Tralk: Can you handle some girls looking to party?
D'Argo: I am a full-blooded Luxan -- and ladies, I have so much cash in my pockets that I can assure you that all three of us will be out of here on our hands and knees come sunrise tomorrow morning. And I've been arrested for saying exactly the same thing on four different planets.

Crichton: Um, D'Argo? You're gonna kill her.
D'Argo: At the moment, I do not have a problem with that.

Crichton: It's a weird universe, man; you don't know that because you spend all of your time indoors!

Crichton: Harvey shows up now and then to give me bad advice.

Raxil: Two guns? I mean, I thought you were the great Crichton and D'Argo! I mean, you blew up a shadow depository! I mean I thought you'd bring pleshfer charges and a plasma gun and a really big gun ship! But no, you bring nothing! Two little weapons that wouldn't kill a negnek!
D'Argo: You... have heard of us?

Raxil: Please don't hit me, please don't hit me!
D'Argo: WHAM
Raxil: All right, you can hit me just once, just once!

Crichton: How long have we known each other?
Pilot: Approximately two and a half long cycles.

Pilot: And why does he not look that way now?
Crichton: .... Metabolism?

Crichton: Does this guy just scream 'Vegas' or what?

Chiana: How's your neck?
Crichton: It's fine. I don't mind sticking it out for you.
Chiana: carefully removes ocular You don't want these broken.
Crichton: You okay?
Chiana: ...Yeah.
Crichton: Good. She takes off Weird.

Chiana: Sad thing is, he's gonna die happy.

Crichton: You know, your eally should get out more. These things do happen.

D'Argo: What he didn't believe you?
Crichton: No.
D'Argo: Then what was that thing about a slim duck?
Crichton: Slam dunk.
D'Argo: Whatever, it doesn't matter. He's throwing us off Moya!
Crichton: Yeah, well, you want to give it a go?
D'Argo: looks at Pilot
Pilot: growls
D'Argo: ...No.
Crichton: See? I did my best.
D'Argo: Your best was to blow it.
Crichton: I did. My best.
D'Argo: Well, you blew it!
Crichton: D'Argo, he's kicking us off Moya because we argue.
D'Argo: He's kicking us off Moya because you argue!
Crichton: We!
The fight degenerates from there...

Crichton: What, you're a girl, I'm gonna to open the door for you? open the door!
D'Argo: I'm older than you, show some respect!

Seriously, this is another episode that belongs to the crew; the utter surrealism of the whole experience had very little to do with what any of the actors were doing. Telling a story in retrospect is a hallowed tradition, with its own special quirks and, as usual, Farscape manages to push every single one of those quirks to the breaking point. The insane rotating, speed-up/slow-down directing, the in-and-out flashes and speed-ups of the editing, John's narration, D'Argo dancing like a white boy, the disjointed plot with lots of little swiss-cheese holes in it that could equally be due to us not supposed to be noticing because everything's moving too fast or because John is just that bad of a liar (or that wasted)..... If you can't keep track of what's going on, don't worry about. Just kick back those raslaks and try not to worry too much.

Once again, our jolly crew's growing reputation bites them in the butt (and can I just say that, of all the editing turns in this episode, I think I liked the perfect quick cuts in Raxils' pissed-off 'the great Crichton and D'Argo!' riff the best?) John and D'Argo, on the loose together -- K'halaan help us all.... < g > The Boyz's constant bickering is amusing as hell, as usual, although I can totally see where Pilot would have had more than enough of it at this point. No referees in the form of Zhaan and Aeryn anymore; if I had to live with them, I'd have done a lot worse than kick them off the ship! < snicker > But they continue to be intensely cute by putting almost all of the macho crap aside in order to save their girls. D'Argo's reaction to meeting Harvey was also very cool, and wow, is he picking up John's slang! But guys, when trying to sell a story.... leave the drinks planetside.

(Oh, and D'Argo's older than John? Since when?)

And the weird competitive bonding thing Jool and Chiana had going (and yes, we did catch the subtext < rolling eyes >) was also amusing as hell. Jool's little athletic display was pretty impressive, but not as impressive as Chiana's continuing off-hand precognition (she saw that punch coming. What's up with that?). And I can't say I'm thrilled with Jool's new do -- her hair really does look better down. But she does a good job with what she's given, although Gigi has much more of a chance to strut her stuff, and is terrific. Gotta love Fe'Tor getting taken down by his own drug; just gives me this warm, fuzzy feeling all over....

Francesca Buller does her usual wonderful job -- it takes talent to play three completely different small people in elaborate (and awesome) makeup. < g > She manages to deliver an entirely different breed of psycho this time around, the really annoying kind, no less! It was certainly fun to try to figure out what side she was on (besides her own), especially since there was no way in hell to predict her actual motivation. Hangi was also damned neat; scientifically hugely unlikely (so, what -- merged minds through the tentacle things?), but so cool , who cares?!? Major kudos to the Creature Shop for this one.

Unfortunately, I think they financed the makeup on Raxil and D'Argo (pheromones as a disguise? huh?) and the cool critters by not spending any money on anything else. The club is done well, but can we talk about the beach scenes, with the plastic blow-up chairs, and the IKEA-furnished condo? And the alien women made alien by dying their hair funky colors? And the big molded plastic milking chair? Oy.

As for the structure that may loosely be described as a 'plot'.... Well, it was certainly interesting. < g > I'm with Pilot; I don't know how any species could lose that much liquid and not be extremely dead, and they neatly wriggled out of explaining that little point. Or how species as divergent as Nebari and whatever the hell Jool is can produce the same substance upon 'milking', but whatever. The Rohypnol/Ecstasy parallel is blatant, of course, and enough to give a very uncomfortable overtone to several scenes; taken seriously throughout the episode, they would have been severely uncomfortable. < shudder > The auction is saved from equal (albeit cheesy game-show) discomfort mostly by the sight of Our Boyz storming to the rescue in their own inimitable (and hilarious) fashion. An awesome caper, thank you very much.

By the way, my instincts say Crichton isn't lying -- he just doesn't have the imagination to come up with this silliness, no matter what drugs he was taking, even with D'Argo's help. < rolling eyes > But I'm not by any means in love with that theory -- John and D'Argo together could be just dumb enough to try to sell this story. Regardless, far too much fun was being had by everyone backstage, and those of us in front of the screen appreciated it! But we do advise liberal application of popcorn -- to your brain or to the screen, whichever you choose. Obviously, they're softening us up for the angst-fest that 'Infinite Possibilities' will almost certainly be, but who are we to object?