Mike's Synopsis

We open in a very nice Los Angeles restaurant, the kind I doubtless can't afford to buy the clothes that are needed to get into. Wes, Cordy and Gunn are sitting, talking amongst themselves, and a disembodied voice comments on how open and well-lit the room is. Yep, it's the mirror thing, as we pan away from the reflection on the wall to the table, revealing Angel sitting with them, nursing a slight case of agoraphobia. Cordy and Gunn are mildly amused; Wes changes the subject, and we find out the reason they're there; they're celebrating Cordelia's casting in a national TV commercial. She gloats a little, natch, but she makes it clear that she's not going anywhere, particularly while she's the possessor of the less-than-pleasant visions. She then mentions that she feels guilty about something. Angel immediately assumes it's about the very expensive plate he's trying hard not to show that he wished she hadn't ordered, but that really doesn't bother her. Angel then proceeds to launch into reminiscence about the good old days of Irish tavern crawls, which creates awkward silence all around.

Cordelia mercifully returns to the topic; they're in the midst of locating a Hacklar demon she saw in a vision. The others assure her it's in hand; Angel's got an informant that'll give up the demon's whereabouts, then Wes and Gunn will proceed to hack said Hacklar. Gunn brings up the prospect of obtaining a flamethrower, and Wesley is less than decisive on the issue; meanwhile, Angel's using reverse psychology to keep anyone from ordering more wine. Except, wait a minute, now he's on the other side of a room, accosting a woman and shouting about how her shawl is made from dead infant flesh. The shawl, of course, is perfectly ordinary--though don't tell that to Cordy--and the gang is left to pull Angel away and make excuses. As they sit back down, now simply hoping to get through the dinner without a visit from the Highway Patrol, Cordy begins to make ominous noises, and is suddenly wracked--with stomach cramps. In short order, Cordy, tablecloth, and pre-digested appetizer all end up on the floor. Some people you just can't take anywhere.

Post-credits, we're back in the office, and Wes is on the phone with Father Wyndham-Pryce. It's a less than happy conversation; Wes's dad apparently has a knack for finding the dark cloud in every silver lining, and Wes's boasts of his recent accomplishments as AI's leader don't make much headway in his father's mind against the 50-car-pileup that was his Watcher career. Come hangup, Wes's mood is about as dark as Angel's wardrobe. He does his level best to put it away when Gunn comes in, however.

Speaking of the man in black, he's in a place where he paradoxically looks out of place as ever and right at home; a movie set. He stops in front of a ocean beach mock-up, and the bikinied blonde standing in front of him assumes too much; he's drawn not to her, but to the imitation sunlight and sand behind her. He basks for just a minute. His reverie, however, is broken by Cordelia, who is in pre-shoot bathrobe, and not entirely happy to see undead co-worker. He starts to ask her a question about her vision, but she cuts him off with panic whispers; the director of her shoot is making his entrance.

Let's pause to say a few words about this lad. Truly a man of sunkissed fortune, he; apparently the labor he must perform for his bread involves the placement of scantily clad girls in front of cameras. Something of a step up from, say, coltan mining in the Congo, but for all that, he seems to be afflicted with a right melancholy disposition. Cordelia eagerly thanks him for casting her; we haven't seen her this eager to please since the fraternity party in _Reptile Boy_. He responds by asking her to "lose the bathrobe," and for those of you playing at home, he does in fact neglect to use the magic word. A surprised exclamation from Cordelia leads to a second request, also lacking in a certain gentility. Cordy, feeling like she's just been taken prisoner of war, dazedly complies. She's left standing in a seashell-embedded bikini that would make the shawl of last night look chaste and unrevealing, even all by itself. Angel gapes.

The director now requests she turn around, and makes approving noises about--well, you can guess. Cordy is really feeling the validation, and Angel's ready to bite through his coat collar. What the director does not approve of, however, is the circles under Cordy's eyes, the result of a night-long bout with food poisoning. He treats us all to the knowledge that in her present condition, Cordy does not come up to his standards of a woman he finds acceptable to engage in the beautiful act of procreation with. Cordy closes her eyes and takes comfort in the fact that she's sunk as low as she can go.

"You're out of line," Angel says to the director.

Oh no, here's a lower place.

Now it's a cockfight, so to speak. Angel moves in on the director, who is really unimpressed. He pointedly ignores Angel and directs all his venom at Cordy, who has far more to lose at this point. Cocooning herself in the bathrobe, Cordy pulls Angel away and apologizes, a desperation in her tone that we have heard far from frequently. The director sniffs superiorly and strides away. Angel offers to do things to the director that the WB will never show, but Cordy lays into him, hitting him with all the fury she would otherwise be forced to direct at herself, and orders him off the lot. But Angel still needs information, and for all her anger, Cordy can't disregard him when the subject is work. Unless, of course, he's asking about whether demons eat people whole or organ by organ. "I hate my whole life," Cordy sobs, and stomps off.

Wes is in mid-brood, and Gunn is bemused by it. He tries to pry Wes out of it by asking about the case, and Wes begins reciting demon facts that he probably learned by rote years ago. Gunn just wants to know how to kill it; the usual way, as it turns out. The debriefing is interrupted as two figures make their way into the lobby; they turn out to be Rondell and George, Gunn's old buddies from his vamp-hunting days. Wes remembers them as well, and the three of them greet each other like old war buddies who nevertheless are from vastly different stations in life. The fellahs have come on business, however; vamps are feeding on homeless in a city park. Gunn offers to plan a strategy, but that's already done, to his surprise; all they really need is his truck. Disguising his disappointment, Gunn offers to go with them, but is refrained, first by Wesley, who Gunn attempts to shrug off, and then by a just-entering Angel, who has a lock on the demon's whereabouts. Gunn expresses his dismay to his mates and urges them to wait until he's free. They don't appear to take his suggestion to heart.

As they gather weapons, Angel is noticeably perturbed, and Wes pries the story of Cordy at the shoot out of him. He tells the story with more than a little pique; indeed, perhaps too much for someone holding an axe. Regardless, Wes and Gunn get the gist enough to be equally puzzled. And of course they're all thoroughly revolted at the description of her wardrobe. Just don't polygraph them on it.

It's Motown night at Caritas; Lorne (oops, we don't know that's his name yet, do we?) is having a grand time laying into "Superstition." The crowd is reacting well, though it's hard to tell if it's the demon's performance or the snazzy, swirly CGI stuff happening behind him. Oblivious, Lorne keeps hitting those high notes, until a blast of wind and light from what's obviously an interdimensional portal upstages him good and proper. Then a big green clawy thing makes its way out of the mist, and it's the first of what will be many early closings for Caritas. Lorne is only thoroughly freaked.

I, on the other hand, am only mildly freaked by the smarmy sales-pitch commercial dialogue Cordy is forced to recite while rubbing lotion on a guy who looks like he's having far more fun than she is. The director is unhappy; he's got some pretext, but does it matter? Cordy protests, and the director has one more go at completely obliterating her self-worth. He does a fairly adequate job.

The men return from the hunt, to find a decidedly subdued Cordelia in the lobby. Angel attempts to apologize, and nearly gets cut off at the knees for his troubles. He presses on, however, and soon Cordelia relents; she's more angry with herself than anyone else. She just thought it would be neat to act for a living. What happened today didn't feel neat, though. She asks about the fightness, and as we learn, the demon is dispatched, and Gunn fled to meet his friends, but before that, they were accosted by a bunch of fitness fanatics who took the demon's side. Context is everything, peoples. "This town sucks," Cordy sighs, and nobody offers a counterpoint.

At that moment Lorne enters; he's decidedly the most animated person in the room, and not just because he's dressed like a big Pokemon. He knows what kind of demon attacked his club, and he really, really wants it dead. The demon in question is, as it turns out, busy bringing others to the same condition; suffice to say, it's not vegetarian. Angel and the others are nonplussed by the complete lack of information Lorne can give them about what Lorne insists is called a Drakken, but Angel comes up with a search-and-destroy plan, then hastily retreats as he realizes he's usurped Wesley's role as decision-maker. Lorne is apprised of Wesley's new role in the AI hierarchy, and gives him sincere congratulations. But he then asks for a decision, and Wesley takes a little too long to agree with Angel's plan. Nevertheless, they're ready to mobilize, when Cordy's all Wracked Girl again. The Hyperion's carpet is safe, however, as we're treated to Cordy's vision of...

It's Fred! Uh, wait, I mean, I don't know who that girl is. She's in a library, and she opens a book, and there's white light and screaming, and suddenly the girl, who we've absolutely, positively never seen before, disappears. Recovering from her vision, Cordelia takes a moment to yell at Angel again, then begins relating the details to Wesley. Lorne is unimpressed, and tries to return the subject to his crisis, only to be roundly ignored. When she gets to the "portal" part, however, Lorne's insides start turning to water. They agree to head to the library, and Lorne dejectedly follows.

We flash to a less nice part of town. I like the old-fashioned lampposts. Gunn strides into a graffiti-laced building and finds a lone kid where he obviously expects a lot more people to be. Inquiries get him nodded into the back room, where a gathering of his old crew mill around silently at what turns out to be an ad hoc wake. Stretched out for visibility is the body of George. "What--" Gunn croaks, and is wordlessly answered by turning George's head so that the vampire bites are visible. "Did they make him drink?" Gunn asks, his voice full of intent. "We don't know," Rondell replies, in a voice that indicates how well he knows the importance of this part of the equation. Gunn gets ready for a long wait.

Meanwhile, at the library, Lorne is trying to talk Angel into going to an Elton John show, and Angel doesn't seem to completely hate the idea. Slashfictioners, start your engines. But before they can exchange class rings, Lorne inadvertently scares the socks off a passing librarian. He quickly passes himself off as a method-actor version of a children's reading room reader-type person, and charms the pants off her. Meanwhile, the others begin asking about that girl whose name, quelle suprise, turns out to be Fred, of all things. She used to work in the library while in training to be a physicist, but she hasn't been seen in five years. Combing the racks of the area Cordy remembered seeing her, they come across the book she was reading. It's all vowelless gibberish (hey, betcha people from Pylea would clean up on Wheel of Fortune) but as Cordy starts reading it aloud, Lorne grows ever more agitated. Then another portal opens up behind them, and Lorne leaves agitated back at that last tollbooth.

And thanks to the portal, the world now has a big green hairy guy to share itself with. He's no slouch with a sword, however, and is giving Angel some fair sampling of trouble. Before anyone can place a bet, however, Lorne recognizes the new arrival, calling him Landok. The AI gang take a minute to process that Lorne knows the strange arrival from another dimension. Landok appears to recognize Lorne as well, calling him "Krevlornswath of the Deathwok Clan." Lorne tries to shrug it off, but reluctantly admits to his given name, saying he prefers Lorne, but doesn't even prefer that due to associations with skin color and a certain long-running Western series star. The other two don't get it, Angel is tickled by the reference, and everyone continues to stare at him as if he were a slightly senile great-uncle. Landok is rather disoriented, and offers to fight what he presumes are Lorne's captors, but Lorne assures him that they are friends. Landok then introduces himself as "Landokmarr of the Deathwok Clan", Cordy finds the common thread and Lorne relents; they're cousins, turquoise-skinned cousins from far away (to the tune of the Patty Duke Show theme). Landok offers to help Lorne return home, Lorne looks as though he's been offered Korean War surplus chipped beef, and suddenly it's a family spat; Landok accuses Lorne of shaming his family by deserting them, and Lorne starts looking for any possible exit. He gets no help from Cordy and Wesley, who are having the most fun they've had all day. Finally Lorne hits on using the Drakken hunt as the perfect smokescreen, but Landok hears the word Drakken and it's like holding a steak out in front of Marmaduke. He wants to come along on the hunt, and Angel et al. really don't have a problem with that, particularly since Landok can track the demon. Lorne is feeling slightly overshadowed at this point, but he follows along.

Back with the less fun bunch. Gunn and Rondell are now safely out of earshot of the others, and Gunn takes the opportunity to lay into him. "You should have waited for me!" he thunders, taking a good fistful of Rondell's jacket. "We been waiting on you for months, bro," Rondell replies cooly. With nothing resolved, Gunn and Rondell begin to set up a furniture-fueled funeral pyre.

The gang has found a Drakken victim, but it's helping Landok bloodhound his way to the demon. Angel watches, fascinated, and Lorne complains about how he has the same talents, but just uses them for different ends. Apparently his choice to use his powers for other people's benefit rather than merely aiding pillage is looked down upon back home. Angel half-listens to Lorne's description of "a world of only good and evil, black and white, no grey, no music, no art, just champions roaming the countryside fighting for justice...No one ever admits to having actual feelings or emotions, let alone talks about them." Actually, all that's starting to sound pretty good to Angel.

Wes is anxious about Gunn, but Cordy tells him not to worry in her own inimitable way--"the last time we went chasing after him on a hunt, you got shot." She's preoccupied, though-- there's something bothering her about this whole situation, but she can't put her finger on it. Landok has found the Drakken's trail, Lorne's unimpressed, and another verbal fusillade erupts between the cousins, interrupted only when Landok realizes the Drakken's carrying around live prey. They adjourn.

The Drakken has been tracked to a big labyrinth of stacking pallets. The gang spots him, and Wesley again is lagging on the planning. While he's paddling to keep up, Landok rushes the demon, followed by Angel, much to Wes's dismay. Landok attacks, and promptly gets himself hurt. Worse, according to Lorne it's a poisoned wound, and the antidote is only available back in Lorne-world. Angel and Wesley, lit flares in hand, are staking out the Drakken, but it's watching them from above. Finally Wesley finds the girl who the Drakken had kidnapped, who actually looks a lot like Darla (there's a fight I'd pay to see). The demon pounces, Wesley tries to fight it off with the flare, and instead gives it a nice hot meal. Fortunately, Angel finds them and makes short work of the demon.

Lorne is helping a weakened Landok to the car, trying his best to ignore Landok's requests for what must be fairly elaborate post-death rituals. Meanwhile, Cordy's having the Eureka moment. She realizes her vision and the Drakken's arrival are connected; the book opens them, and people can pass through both ways. She's sure that the book is the key to sending Landok back to his world. The gang is skeptical, but ultimately they're swayed by Cordy's conviction.

Further downtown, the pyre's all set, and there's little Gunn can to except watch his friend's body burn, surrounded by people he's not sure he can call friends anymore. As he watches, something stirs in his eyes.

Back at Caritas, the gang helps Landok to a seat, and Angel gives him the book to read. Landok expresses his admiration for Angel's skill in fighting, which Angel doesn't hate. Landok and Lorne have a less-than-bittersweet goodbye: "I feel we will meet again someday." "Oh, God, I hope not." Landok then reads, there's the shaky swirly swish, and he's gone. Worked like a charm, apparently. Except for that odd moan at the end. Their business concluded, the gang makes to leave, but Cordy's not on the seat she'd been. In fact, she's not in the room. Hmm. She either had a really unscheduled bathroom break, or...

...she's in the middle of a big forest with not altogether promising growly sounds, unnaturally lumpy vegetation, and no sign of human life anywhere in sight. Oh yeah, and there's double the usual amount of suns.

"Oh, crap," she summarizes concisely.

Lizbet's Review

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