The Writers' Room

The Writers' Room
ReCape: “Kozmo”

Elizabeth Grunewald | 18 Jan 2011 22:30
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Vince is still wandering the back streets, looking for Gregor. He overhears a street vendor describing, "a real bloody mess," and goes to investigate. Gregor, meanwhile, hits up the same vendor for a hot dog "with extra kraut." Now he has a snack to enjoy while watching Vince examine the crime scene! Everything's coming up Molotov.

Meanwhile, back in Vince's lair, Rollo the little person comes in to find not Vince, but Orwell. He offers to show her around the circus, as everyone's getting ready for tomorrow's performance. "You'll get to meet all of Vince's freaky peeps," he promises. Orwell takes him up on his offer, and the two of them buzz around the grounds on a little motorcycle, which gives Rollo an opportunity to growl, "Hey, you clowns, get out of the way," to a pair of clowns. Yes, Cape, that is indeed a most amusing witticism.

Hold on just a second.

So these folks are the Carnival of Crime, right? They're not just a particularly theatrical group of thieves, though, they're an actual circus. No one considers that, perhaps, the people behind the fantastical bank robberies of last week's episode might be the very same group of fantastical folks parked right outside town, getting ready to put on a show? Headdesk.

Orwell and Max meet face to face, and the former introduces herself as Julia. Vince bursts into the tent, brandishing a bottle of vodka and insisting they show Gregor off in style. At the resulting party, Gregor decides it'll be fun to dislocate his fingers and try to make me vomit from a distance through the magic of television. Gregor thinks it's funny, and boasts, "straitjackets call off me as easily as a prom queen's dress." Prom dresses fall off you easily, huh? He asks to read Orwell's palm, mentioning that he used to do this "in the old country," (of course he did!), and says she has daddy issues, an identity crisis, and jail time in her past.

Now's a good time to cut away from this to revisit Dana, don't you agree? She's in jail, interviewing the client who was in the Palm City Freight Yard, and yes, the man did witness Vince's framing, start to finish. There are more crazy angles here, which tell us about Dana's inner turmoil and such. She leaves her client and runs into Marty, asking him to help her find the witnesses. If her client saw it, other people must have, too, and Marty's just the person to help. Right?

Back to the circus. Things are getting tense at this little goodbye party, as Gregor tells the ancient history of the cape. Egyptian priests used it for sacrifices, alchemists used it to muck around in people's minds. Some think Merlin wore it, others think Jack the Ripper, as he was known for his cape-snapping style. Vince starts talking about the murder at the poker table, noting that the playing cards were an awfully magician-y weapon to use. Pardon the pun, but Vince is showing his hand here, and it's just odd. Gregor comes back, arguing that as a cop, Vince is, "just me with a badge." Vince vows to return Gregor to Russian prison, which pisses Gregor off so much he straight disappears. Well done, Vince. Allow the villain with the dislocate-tastic bones to escape, so he can regroup, and attack again.


Vince is in his lair, getting ready to suit up as The Cape. Orwell warns him that Gregor is likely setting a trap somewhere, and drops the bombshell that her palm reading was totally accurate. Gregor "knows things." Vince belatedly realizes that, if Gregor knows very much at all, he knows about Trip and Dana. Well, crap.
Dana's walking alone through a parking garage, which is a scary situation sometimes, but a whole lot scarier if the camera keeps following you right over the shoulder, because then you just know someone's there. Luckily for Dana, that someone is her boss, who hits on her a little and offers enthusiastically to take Trip to a ball game. Vince, who is watching, is very sad, and hopefully a little worried that this man we all just met is so eager to take his kid out for the day.

Back at the circus, Orwell is watching Raia, the circus performer who really never speaks so I had to look up her name to write this, performing with aerial silk, which is actually pretty cool. Max walks up behind our mysterious blogger friend and comments on how beautiful Raia and her performance are. He then asks Orwell to join the act, inquiring whether or not she has any special skills. Orwell says she can hotwire a car and burn through a firewall in under a minute, which gives Max the perfect opportunity to say, "I thought I was mysterious."

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