Check out what happened so far in Part One here. At the H50h building, Danno is standing in a pious distance from a new black Camaro and worshipping the pagan god of the car. The Moose struts in and much later, the Moose’s owner himself appears in view. McMoose grabs the keys and unceremoniously gets in the driver’s seat. No question asked. Danno cries a little, wiggles his butt defiantly as he walks to the passenger seat and makes sure that McMoose is really not allowing him to drive his own car. Really and truly, he’s not. Danno gets remains grumpy. I love Grumpy Danno and I want to slap his a$$ lovingly.
McMoose is enjoying the ride in the Camaro like I would enjoy a ride on its driver. Danno wipes the ecstatic expression off McMoose’s face when he brings up the operation Kill Bill. McMoose relies on his ownership of the Moose and on Cat’s soft spot for beasts in bed and naively assumes that Kill Bill is no real threat. Well, about that… Danno, who’s been deprived of a wife, house and daughter, knows better. He cryptically quotes: “Why pass when you can run,” meaning why pass your attractive, beautiful, intelligent, smart etc. etc. etc. girlfriend to her ex-boyfriend when you can keep said etc. etc. etc. girlfriend to yourself? McMoose puckers his face cluelessly and I yell at him to stop, lest he wants these wrinkles permanent.
Show hates FUCUPs, which is why the H50hs have put on their garters and corsets thigh holsters and kevlars off camera and arrive at the scene covered in full gear. McMoose gun-dances into Big Beard’s house, closely followed by Danno and Chinchin. He Who Dances with Guns contends that neither Big Beard nor the Texan are in. Of course not, silly, they’re off to get more peanut butter! Just like I said: The Texan drives into a sugar cane field, pulls BB out of the trunk and starts spreading peanut butter on BB’s bare bodily parts. Dear Texan, this is not your guy, you should’ve caught McMoose and put the peanut spread on him! And then I’d lick the Moose clean. Anyway. The Texan argues that Hawaiian rats love peanut butter, but that he himself doesn’t love rats, hence he’s leaving. Before he can do so, BB calls him back and gives him the location of the persons he’s after.
A nervous man-boy gets in a motel room, scratches himself behind his ear, discovers a cigarette there and attempts to light it with a gun-shaped cigarette lighter. In storms the Texan, waving around a silver revolver, and screams: “Y’wanna play?” The kid just peed a little from fear and is not inclined to play. The Texan demands that the Kid tell him where an unspecified she is, but the Kid is too scared to speak. In storm the H50hs, waving around their means and immunity, and there’s more gun pointing and big-mouth threats. The Texan loses it and gives up, just in time, for the Kid now really needs to go to the loo. The Texan spits: “You’re making a big mistake,” and Danno indifferently comments: “Ahha,” and I do love ironic Danno and want to bite him in his sarcasm. And maybe somewhere else.
In the Blue Room, McMoose examines the Texan’s cowboy hat and finds in it a pic of a pretty woman young enough to be the Texan’s daughter. McMoose expresses his disappointment with the Texan’s failure to cover his tracks as would suit a highly decorated cop. The Texan snorts and swears he killed neither Spock nor Big Beard. In the office, Danno uses subtler interrogation techniques on the Kid, seeing as it is that the Kid could pee himself again anytime. Danno takes the Kid’s phone, updates his status on FB and tweets: “Kids R dumb,” and then finds in the phone a pic of the Kid and She Who Could Be the Texan’s Daughter. Danno waves the photo before the Kid’s eyes while wriggling like a serpent or like Sang Min. McMoose repeats the same waving-and-wriggling routine in the Blue Room with the Texan and it turns out that She Who Looks like the Texan’s Daughter is his daughter.
The silly Kid, sweating profusely, confesses he’s so silly as to have himself hired as a messenger to carry dirty money and even so silly as to take his GF on the trip. Cause he’s silly, he messed up, lost the money, lost the GF and now a bunch of bad-a$$ guys is holding the GF hostage and will exchange her for the money. Or maybe not. To add to his misery, his GF’s less than understanding father is now hunting him, the Kid weeps, and tears and sweat stream down his face. I got a hunch that the GF will soon abandon her kiddo BF and exchange him for the Moose, as any of us would do. McMoose is right now showing why, wiggling his a$$ as he struts towards the Texan to release him and offers that they’ll now hunt together.
Which they do. Their first prey is Big Beard, whose beer-bottle-infested house they revisit to find the owner in the shower, washing peanut butter off his head. In a split of second, McMoose checks for the presence of weapons and satisfied with seeing that his own weapon is larger, from now on he keeps his eyes firmly above Big Beard’s waist level. BB swears to peanut butter that it’s the worst day of his life and tells the Moose all he knows. On this, the H50hs plus the Texan pack their junk and move their highly squeezable a$$es to another set somewhere over the rainbow. They put the Kid in a car and send him to the suspect’s house with the task to drop the money and get the GF back. I’m seriously worried about the Kid, not that he’ll be shot but that he’ll drown in his own sweat before he even gets there.
Do you think the Kid made it? Nope. He screwed up. Again. Cause he’s silly. Good for him, though, his father-in-law-to-be makes a moving gesture of goodwill, emerges at the horizon cool and composed like a Vulcan and shoots the bad guy before the bad guy shoots the Kid. Walking tall like a Rambo, the Texan, measuring his steps, moves in direction of the baddies in a whirlwind of bullets while the H50hs are shooting safely from cover. The Texas Rambo pauses at the battle scene, places his pointed cowboy boot at a fallen baddie’s neck and hisses inquiringly in his ear: “Where’s my daughter, my life, my everything,” meaning really just his daughter. Turns out the girl was sold to the highest bidder. What? Is this the Amazon.com marketplace?
It’s a middle of the night, the H50hs have put the silly Kid away to bed and are up to some serious bad-a$$ business in the docks. McMoose jumps at an extra’s head, hugs him till he’s unconscious and lays him gently on the ground so that he wouldn’t thud and alert his fellows like we FUCUPs do. Danno pokes another extra in his head with his gun, while the angry Moose kicks yet another in his back so that he sends him splashing into the water. The Texan roams around, checking container numbers against the number written in pen on his palm. If you wonder how come the number wouldn’t wash or sweat off, it’s cause he’s a closeted Vulcan who lives long, prospers and never perspires. Of course, the Texan finds the container, opens it, finds his offspring in it, whom he hugs, and she says she’s sorry. I scream at the screen: “Better safe than sorry, y’silly!”
The H50hs are playing baseball. Again. Who’d love so much baseball? Not me. The Moose and the Elk, wearing their red tees, are coaching Monkey and advising her to enjoy herself. I’d normally argue that baseball and enjoying don’t exist in the same galaxy, but now I’m keeping my mouth shut so that I wouldn’t drown my keyboard in my own drool when watching the Moose and the Elk in action. Cause baseball is really boring, Steve turns to Cat and suddenly orders her to take the job with Kill Bill. I sigh in direction of Cat: “The lengths a girl has to go for a good FOY,” and pat her hair in the screen. Cat throws herself in McMoose’s arms, but she doesn’t hug him with her thighs. They give each other a PG12-suitable Eskimo kiss. Something happens in the game, which is probably a good thing, cause Monkey starts running with a victorious face towards the camera and the picture freezes in mid-motion. Finis.