02x07 - Chuck Versus the Fat Lady

[bunniefuu]

Chuck: Hi, I am Chuck. Here are a few things that you might need to know.

Jill!

Ellie: There's no scenario in which you should be going to dinner with the girl that dumped you, broke your heart and slept with your best friend.

Jill: What about your cover girlfriend?

Won't she be jealous?

Chuck: Our relationship's a cover.

You know, there's nothing to be jealous about.

Jill: Chuck this is my boss, Guy LeFleur.

Chuck: Hi. Nice to meet you.

Beckman: MI-6 has reports that he may have developed a bioweapon which he plans to sell to the highest bidder.

The assassin Agent Walker sh*t was a member of FULCRUM.

If Jill knows something, they may make a play for her.

Chuck: The sensor will be blind for 20 seconds.

Welcome to the world of international espionage.

Very handy for picnics.

Jill: I have to say, I still can't wrap my head around the idea of you as a spy.

You never told me how that happened.

Chuck: Uh... well...

You don't choose your profession, Jill.

The right job chooses you.

Jill: Still-- never would've guessed it.

Chuck: Well, how about you soak up this romantic view.

Jill: Yeah, real romantic.

Chuck: What? This is the Buy More roof.

You smell that?

You smell what you're smelling right now?

That is rarefied air, that very few people ever get to experience.

Not to mention the fact that there aren't a lot of places I can go that aren't under constant surveillance.

The government finds me very... very valuable.

Jill: Well, I can't say that I blame them.

You've got to be kidding me.

Wait, hold on.

Give me a break.

Are you kidding me?

I've got her here. We're having some food.

Casey; Amateur.

Sarah: Casey, is that necessary?

How much trouble can he get into on a date?

Casey: It's Bartowski.

You're pretty nonchalant about your supercomputer boyfriend trying to browse someone else's network.

Sarah; Well, I am just his cover girlfriend.

.chuck: .. with your bank of monitors.

You get off on this, don't you?

Sarah; Chuck's entitled to a real one.

Beckman; Major Casey, Agent Walker.

I have the intel on your new mission.

But it's going to require some unorthodox reconnaissance.

Turns out our deceased doctor, Guy LeFleur, obtained a list of CIA code names for the agents he worked with.

We have reason to believe it's a list of FULCRUM operatives. This may be our only chance to find the corrupt agents within our ranks.

Sarah: Great. And where's the list now?

Beckman: Intel thinks it's hidden in Guy's hotel room at the Waldron.

We have to get that list before FULCRUM does.

You need to take the Intersect in off-the-record and see if he can flash.

Perhaps Chuck can find out where the list is hidden.

Sarah: You want us to break into a government-controlled crime scene?

Casey: It's the FBI. How hard can it be?

Sarah: Bogie at 5:00.

I'll handle this.

Chuck: Really? A camera on the roof because of what?

All the t*rror1st activity on top of the Buy More?

Sarah; Okay, Casey may have been a little aggressive, but we just received our new mission.

Chuck: Already?

Sarah; Tomorrow we're going to break into Guy LeFleur's hotel room.

We think he might have a list of all the FULCRUM agents that were blackmailing him.

Chuck: Wow. Okay.

Can we talk about this tomorrow?

Because I have Jill waiting for me in the car.

Sarah: Of course.

Chuck: Okay, thanks.

Sarah: Uh, Chuck... is everything all right?

Chuck: Yeah... yeah, I'm fine. Why do you ask?

Or is this some spy thing?

Some psych evaluation or something like that?

Sarah: It's a friend thing.

I just want to make sure you're okay.

Chuck: Yeah. Yeah, I'm great.

Being with Jill, is... is...

It's like having my old life back, you know?

And not to bash on our cover, but I'd forgotten what it's like to be with someone who knows the real me.

Sarah: Well, from everything I've seen, she seems like a great girl.

Chuck: Well, if you could see a little less.

Maybe ease up on the whole Chuck Bartowski 24-hour surveillance.

Sarah: Yeah, I'll talk to Casey.

You deserve your privacy, Chuck.

Chuck: Thank you.

Okay.

So Sarah said there's going to be an easing up of the Chuck surveillance.

Casey: You're a government asset, Chuck.

Sometimes your personal life has to take a backseat.

Chuck: We tried the backseat.

You have a camera in the car, too.

Come on, how many... how many second chances do you get with the one who got away?

Plus, she already knows I'm a... you know.

Casey; I'm not even interested in my own feelings, Bartowski.

Keep your mind on the mission.

We leave in ten.

Morgan: Hey, Chuck. Morning.

Canada has just delivered its most delightful gift since Shania Twain.

Behold the Q-36 game copier.

Check it out-- now all we have to do is rent a game, rip it, and we never have to pay for our entertainment again.

Chuck: Yeah, Big Mike's going to be thrilled seeing as how we sell video games.

Morgan; Come on, dude, this thing can ignore all forms of copy protection.

It can copy anything.

Highly illegal.

Emmett; What's illegal, gentlemen?

Oh. Going to smoke some weed on your lunch break?

A little reefer?

Ganja?

I have heard the loading dock is like a Five for Fighting concert.

So fierce.

Chuck, can I see you in my office, please?

Chuck: Uh, sorry, Emmett, can't.

Got to go.

Emmett: Oh, really? Where?

Chuck; Uh... it's an off-site install.

It's probably going to take a while, so...

See ya.

Jill: You're going to a hotel tonight with your cover girlfriend?

Chuck: Well, uh, you know, I mean, if it's any comfort... overnight missions normally involve Casey and a whole lot of firearms.

So, nothing romantic about it.

Jill: So what is this Sarah like?

Is she pretty?

Chuck: Um, well... I could understand how a typical heterosexual male might find her aesthetically pleasing, you know.

And if someone were to ask me, "Chuck, technically, objectively, do you find your CIA handler Sarah attractive? "

Then I might say, "Technically, objectively... Sure. "

Jill: Uh-huh.

And all those missions you go on, it's not exciting and romantic?

Chuck: Look, you got it all wrong.

There is nothing about this job that's glamorous or sexy.

All right.

Hi-oh.

Was it absolutely necessary for you to dress up like a... ?

Sarah: An escort?

Chuck: Yeah, yeah, an escort.

And why exactly is Mr. Carmichael paying you to have sex with me... him?

Sarah: The Waldron is notorious for its high-end businessmen and their trysts.

It's our cover, so sell it.

Bellhop: Wonder how much that costs?

Casey: I've got the security feed.

It looks like the FBI has Guy's room on lockdown.

We won't be asking permission before we slip in.

We'll just enter through the ventilation system.

Chuck: Hey, hey... how long is this going to take?

Casey: What's the matter, Bartowski, you got a date?

Chuck: Actually, yes.

Ow!

Sarah: You okay?

Casey: Why don't you just call ahead and let them know we're coming?

Chuck; Sorry.

Casey: Idiot.

I'm just trying to figure out what time I'm going to be home.

Sarah: Well, just do the cover math.

How long would it take for a businessman to have sex with a prost*tute?

Chuck: Stupid phone.

Jill: Hello?

Chuck: Sarah, you think this shouldn't take us more than an hour to have sex from start to finish?

Sarah: Uh-huh.

Chuck: And... begin.

What... what am I...

What am I doing wrong here?

Sarah: Well, just move your hips a little to the left.

Chuck: Okay... okay.

This is way more exhausting than I thought it would be.

Sarah: Well, we can't just race right through it.

Chuck: Your knees aren't hurting?

What, did you go to a school to learn how to do this?

Emmett; Hey, how are you?

Morgan: Hello, Emmett.

I was just coming in here to get a snack.

Emmett: Oh, you do not need a snack. Please.

Morgan: Okay.

Emmett; Morgan, I want you to imagine, for a moment, that Buy More is a country.

Morgan: Ah, BuyMoria.

Emmett: Yes.

How did you know that?

Morgan: I've thought about it for years.

Emmett: This is fantastic.

Now, imagine that all its employees are the states that make up this great nation.

Morgan: Yeah, I can dig it.

Emmett: And, if you will, one of these states is looking to secede from the union.

Chuck.

Morgan: Whoa.

Okay, wait a minute.

You're questioning Chuck's patriotism towards BuyMoria? No.

Emmett: Where does he go all the time?

I don't see receipts for all the off-site installs he does.

What is he into, Morgan?

Uppers? Glue?

A baby mama?

Morgan: Dude, you are out of your mind.

Emmett: Maybe I am.

Maybe I'm so far out of my mind that I've gotten myself all crawled up inside of yours.

Let's see.

Oh.

This could be grounds for deportation from BuyMoria.

Morgan: You wouldn't.

Emmett: Help me, Morgan.

Help me help Chuck.

Morgan: Chuck doesn't need our help.

Don't matter what she said.

Afternoon guard duty is boring.

Here.

Sarah: What are you doing up there?

Chuck; Help!

Casey: Shh! It's the FBI.

They're dumb, not deaf.

Chuck: Thanks.

Sorry.

Hey. Hey.

Guard; And then she shoves him in the pool.

I swear, if it wasn't for the Xanax, she would have ripped his...

Hey, man.

I didn't expect to see you today.

Well, never a day off when you need it.

Ow!

Shh! Shh! Shh!

Casey: Does the word "silent" have a different meaning in geek that I'm not aware of?

Chuck: Look, I'm sorry.

I thought it was on vibrate.

At least I got the list.

It's a Venetian Puzzle Box.

Very popular with Renaissance spies.

Sarah: It's locked.

Chuck; Hey-- beh, beh, beh.

The running, jumping, sh**ting people part of the job, that's all you guys.

But the puzzles, that's all me.

I think it would be numerals one through 12 in a row.

But these boxes used a complicated Fibonacci sequence.

Let's see what we got.

Sarah: Oh, Casey, gas!

Casey:,Be right back with a containment unit.

Chuck: Well, is it off? !

Get it off me!

Sarah: Take your clothes off!

Get in the shower now, quick!

Chuck: Off! Get it off!

Sarah: Pants off, come on!

Chuck: I'm trying!

Sarah: Hurry up!

Get in, get in, get in.

Chuck: Oh, cold! So-so-so cold!

Sarah: Use the soap!

Wash it!

Chuck: Oh! Oh!

Sarah: Get the--

Chuck: Oh, sorry, sorry!

I'm trying to-- I'm not trying to... !

Sarah: Wash your face properly.

Chuck: Tastes like soap! Tastes like soap!

Sarah: In your hair.

Chuck: Oh! Oh, God.

Sarah: Get the door. That's Casey.

We have no time to waste; quick.

Chuck: Jill.

Jill: Chuck.

Chuck: How'd you...

Jill: The bellman sent me to your room.

I knew it.

Chuck; Jill, wait!

Wait, wait! It's not what you think!

Jill, please!

I could be dying!

How long... how long does this thing take?

How-how does Jill pick that exact moment to walk in on us?

I mean, what-what- what are the odds?

Does-does this, does this give us the antidote?

Because I think I feel my throat is closing up on me right now.

What is it?

What is it, flesh-eating bacteria or anthr*x?

Am I gonna die?

Casey: Nope. But you can add ice and give it to little kids to sell on street corners.

Chuck: I knew it.

dr*gs.

Casey: It's powdered fruit punch, dumb ass.

Chuck: Wait...

So not only did we not get the FULCRUM list, but Jill's never gonna speak to me again because she caught me naked, rinsing off fruit punch with another woman?

Casey: Common spy problem.

Chuck: Really?

lester: I don't know what to tell you.

I don't know anything.

Emmett: Oh, of course you do, Lester.

You've worked very closely with Charles for years.

Perhaps I've overstated the nature of our relationship.

Lester: We don't socialize much.

In fact, I've felt slighted on more than one occasion.

Emmett; Oh, good.

Then you won't have a problem ratting him out.

Lester: I have no ethical dilemma.

I meant I just don't know anything!

Emmett: Then who does? !

Lester: Jeff! I would ask Jeff.

Jeff: I don't rat.

Only thing my mother taught me from the joint.

You want answers, talk to the Injun.

Lester: "Injun" is a highly derogatory term referring to Native Americans, not East Indians, you cretin!

Jeff: Grab a shiv and make your move.

Lester; We should run now. He's in "prison mode. "

Emmett: Shut up.

I guess I haven't made myself clear.

You both host an unsanctioned card game in this break room.

You give me something on Bartowski or no more poker night.

Jeff: Chuck's cheating on his lady.

Lester: Yeah, we saw him and this brunette bird leaving some fancy, real-silverware joint a couple of nights ago.

Jeff: She's not as well-endowed as I would like.

Emmett: Come on.

What's her name?

Who is she?

No more poker No...

Lester; Morgan!

You got to break Morgan.

Chuck tells him everything.

Jeff; His beard holds so many secrets.

Emmett: Morgan.

Chuck; Hey, Jill.

It's-It's me again-- Chuck.

Lucky message number four.

Listen, I just wanted to say, I totally understand why you're not calling me back.

Because, look, if I saw what you saw, then I'd be thinking what you're thinking, you know.

Not that I presume to know what you're thinking.

It's just a logical deduction to think what you saw would be what you think, if that's in fact what you're thinking.

Actually, I can explain a lot better than that, if you just call me back.

Please.

At your earliest convenience.

Bye.

Lester: Grimes.

You got to give Milbarge something, man.

If you don't, he's not gonna let us have our weekly poker game.

Jeff: Yeah, don't do it for us, Morgan.

Do it for BuyMoria.

Emmett: So, Grimes, have you thought any more about our chat this morning?

Are you ready to help me help BuyMoria?

Morgan: Yeah, okay, Emmett.

Okay.

You want to know where Chuck goes on these... service calls?

Emmett: Yes, please.

Morgan: He goes and he fixes computers and computer- related software.

Emmett: Why do you protect him?

What does that Charles have over you?

Morgan: Um, 23 years of best friendship.

Emmett: Oh, please.

Morgan: I know everything there is to know about the man, but you're not gonna hear it from me. And if you're looking for dirt, well, nothing to say, dude, 'cause Chuck Bartowski is the straightest sh**t I know.

Emmett: Really?

Morgan: That's right.

Emmett: You have a bizarre sense of straightest.

Since your besty has two girlfriends.

Morgan: What are you talking about?

Emmett; I mean, isn't Bartowski's bimbo a blonde?

Morgan: I don't know if Sarah's a natural blonde.

I mean, it's kind of impolite to ask, you know.

Morgan: Oh, my God, it's Jill.

Emmett: Thank you. I didn't know its name.

Morgan: That's, that's Chuck's old college girlfriend.

Emmett: Thank you again.

You're a font of information.

Twice the intelligence I had before.

Morgan: How could he not have told me?

Emmett: Oh, you can have your poker game now.

And do not worry.

I will not tell Bartowski that his best buddy was the weak link.

Cheers.

Sorry. Okay.

Chuck; Jill, thank you, thank you, thank you so much for-for coming, Jill.

I appreciate it.

Jill: You have three seconds to convince me what I saw wasn't what I saw.

Chuck: That's gonna be a little tough, because I can't get into specifics without you having to know, like, really high-level, top-secret government...

We broke into Guy's room trying to find some of his research, and we found this box, but when we opened it, it sprayed this stuff all over Sarah and I, so when you saw the two of us in our underpants what you really saw was two people trying to wash off what we thought was poison but really turned out to be powdered fruit punch.

See? There. Simple. Do you believe me?

Jill: What kind of fruit punch?

Chuck: Okay, now you're just messing with me.

Jill: No, no. Chuck, I believe you.

Chuck: Really? Becau--

I-I was listening to what I just said right now, and I sounded completely ridiculous.

Jill: Guy was crazy paranoid.

You couldn't open an e-mail without solving a puzzle first.

If he cared about something, he would have hidden it.

Maybe the fruit punch was a clue.

Chuck: We have to go somewhere.

But before we do, how do you feel about blindfolds?

Casey: You brought her here?

Um... Bartowski, it's not a secret location if you invite people over.

Chuck: Okay, but Jill here, Jill knows about Guy's puzzles.

Casey: They just found two dead FBI agents in LaFleur's room.

Now's not the time to be planning game night with your girlfriend.

Chuck: Jill, would you please tell them what you told me, about how the fruit punch might actually be a clue.

Jill: Guy's paranoia manifested itself in obscure ways: odd literary references, mathematical proofs.

The log-on for his computer was a randomly selected word from a piece of Vogon poetry.

Chuck: So what do you think the fruit punch might mean?

Jill: What kind of fruit punch was it?

Sarah: Uh, I guess, traditional fruit punch.

Jill: You guess?

Please tell me you got the exact formula.

Okay, um, is there a mass spectrometer around?

Chuck: Casey, get the spectrometer.

Do we have one of those?

Casey: I can see what the boy sees in her, huh?

Jill: Now we compare the crystalline powder's chemical composition with a list of known products.

Chuck: It's, um, it's Rootin' Raspberry-flavored Hi-C.

Jill: Rootin' Raspberry?

Maybe... Maybe it has something to do with a football team or cheerleaders?

Sarah: What about international waters?

Jill: High seas.

That's good. That's good.

Chuck: Wait, guys, guys, this is a music box.

It's a music box.

It's not high sea-- S-E-A.

It's high "C, " like a musical note-- high "C. "

Where's a pitch pipe when you need one?

Hey! What?

Casey: Choir boy.

What? I wasn't hatched.

Chuck: Ha-ha-ha!

Check it out!

Jill: Those are opera glasses.

Chuck: Oh! No... actually, they're not.

Um, this is a key.

A key to a very super secret lock box.

The Culper Ring used to use stuff like that to pass information during the Revolutionary w*r days.

Jill: Wow, Chuck, that's impressive.

Casey; Yeah, nice going there, brainiac.

But before you go getting all full of yourself-- if this is the key, where's the lock?

Chuck: The question, my dear Casey is: Where's the opera?

Sarah: You're not concerned to involve a civilian in a covert government investigation?

Casey: Ah, the girl's personal knowledge of Guy LaFleur makes her of use to us.

You sure you're not just jealous Bartowski's found himself a new piece of asset?

Now where is that doofus?

Jill: Guy loved the opera. Here's his family's box.

Chuck: Whoa! Not bad.

You really feel like you're on top of the action.

Jill: How do you know what you're looking for?

Chuck: Oh, well... it'll match the end of this key.

You know, something... something... like this.

Shall we see what we got?

Bingo.

Hey, we got it!

Mr. Kolfi, we'll be out of your hair in a minute, okay?

I don't have a minute.

We are trying to rehearse.

Chuck: This is a quick, quick, quick minute.

You know, government stuff.

Watch out.

Sarah: Casey, that's a b*mb.

Casey: All right, rehearsal's over. Everyone out of here!

Sarah: Come on, Chuck, let's go! We gotta go!

Jill: Wait! This doesn't make any sense.

Guy wanted to help people, not hurt them.

This isn't a b*mb, this is a clue.

Sarah: Jill, if it looks like a b*mb and it ticks like a b*mb, then generally it's a b*mb.

Jill: No, this is a puzzle we need to solve before the timer runs out.

Sarah: And what if you're wrong?

Jill: That doesn't happen.

Chuck: Look, it's a music thing. What's the opera?

Jill: Verdi's La Traviata.

Chuck: Well, how does that go?

You play violin, right?

Mm-hmm.

Your dad made you play the flute.

Let's not bring that up.

Casey: Come on. Come on. Get 'em all out!

All of 'em! Go, go!

Sarah: It's not happening.

Let's go. Chuck, come on!

Chuck: Look, look, Jill has yet to be wrong, okay?

She says it's not a b*mb, I believe her.

Sir, we're sealing this place off.

Chuck: It's a flash drive. This must be it.

That's how we do that, huh?

Jill, it was all you.

Jill: No, you. It was all you.

Chuck: Okay, all right, all right.

Casey: I love love.

Beckman: The flash drive containing Guy's list is encrypted using a 512-bit AES cipher.

Right now, the computer is trying every possible key against the encrypted data.

When it finds a match, we'll have the identity of every FULCRUM agent with whom Guy was in contact.

Sarah: How long will that take?

Beckman: Could be hours, could be days.

Excellent work, you two.

Please thank the asset for his service.

By the way Where is Chuck ?

Casey: My guess would be rounding second base.

Jill: You were brilliant tonight.

Chuck: No, you.

Jill: Mm-mm, all you.

Chuck: Mm-mm-mm! No, no, no, I can't, I can't, I can't do this.

Jill; You don't have to do a thing. It's gonna be all me.

Chuck: I... mm, that's very gracious of you, but no, that's not what I'm saying.

I mean, I can't do this.

I can't, I can't do this.

Hey, come here.

Come here. Come here. Look...

Buy More. Tomorrow.

Jill; What time?

Chuck: Take the latent heat of aquatic fusion...

Jill: Is that in calories per gram?

Chuck: Of course.

And then subtract the atomic number of thulium.

Got it?

Jill: Mm-hmm.

Chuck: Okay, I'll see you then.

Casey: Nerd code.

Hm.

Chuck: Hey, hey, buddy, listen, I need you to cover for me with Emmett today.

Gotta cut out early.

Morgan: I see-- big night with the lady, huh?

Chuck: Actually, uh, yeah.

We're sneaking off for a little romantic getaway.

Morgan: Oh, how sweet.

So you and Sarah are taking a little trip together, huh?

Chuck: Yeah, we're, uh...

Morgan: Just save it, Pinocchio. I know you're seeing Jill.

Chuck: You what? You... How?

How do you-- you know about Jill?

Morgan: Apparently, I'm the last one to know, too.

Milbarge knows about it.

This is Jill.

I spent months helping you get over her.

Look, Chuck, we're best friends, but if you're not telling me about this, what else aren't you telling me?

Chuck: Morgan, I'm so sorry, buddy.

I really am. And-And trust me, there is so much that I wish that I could tell you, but I, you know, can't.

Morgan: Dude, you've never lied to me before.

Chuck: Exactly, so just trust my judgment on this, okay?

I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I gotta go.

Can you cover me?

Morgan; Of course, I can cover for you, man, because we're best friends and that's what best friends do-- they lie for each other.

But they don't lie to each other, that's all.

Got it.

Chuck: Trust me. And thank you, thank you.

I'm gonna grab some turkey jerky inside.

Do you want anything?

Jill: Uh, a water and some Gummi Bears.

Chuck: Okay, coming right up.

Sarah: Have you heard from Chuck?

Casey: No. I'll do a GPS search on his watch.

Little twerp's gone off grid.

Chuck: Hey, no Gummi Bears, so I hope you like sour...

Jill; Chuck, help!

Chuck: Jill!

That's close enough.

Fulcrum agent; You have something that belongs to me.

Chuck: What? No. This?

No, no, no. See, I paid--

I paid for this. But you can have it.

Why don't you just let the girl go and then you can tell me what it is exactly that you've lost, then maybe I can help you find it?

Fulcrum agent: Bring me LaFleur's list or the girl dies.

Opera House.

Midnight.

Chuck: They took her!

Casey: The hell you been?

You deliberately went off grid.

Chuck; Some guy just took Jill!

He said if I didn't bring him Guy's list of FULCRUM agents, he's gonna k*ll her.

Casey: That's not gonna happen.

Chuck: Yeah, of course not.

I'm gonna bring him the list, and I'm gonna get her back!

Casey: No, you're not.

They'll k*ll her either way.

Chuck: What? No. That can't happen.

Please, Casey, will you please help me?

Casey: No.

I gotta call Washington and report it.

You stay right here. Don't move.

You've done enough damage already.

General, we have a situation.

Stop!

Walker, sh**t him! Chuck, freeze!

Sarah: Don't.

If you try to take that, I have to stop you.

Chuck: Please, let me go!

Casey: This is treason, Bartowski.

Chuck; Please, just let me go.

Cassy: sh**t him, Walker.

sh**t him in the knee

Take him down

Chuck: I'm sorry.

I have to.

It's Jill.

Casey: You could've sh*t him.

Sarah: He's the Intersect.

Casey: Is that all he is?

You could've at least kneecapped him.

Sarah: I have a trace on Chuck. He's heading downtown.

Casey: You get the car, I'll get the g*ns.

Chuck: Jill!

Jill: Chuck.

Fulcrum agent: Can we dispense with the pillow talk and just do this?

Chuck: Yeah, yeah, okay, okay.

Let her go.

Fulcrum agent: Not so fast.

You've seen mine, now show me yours.

Chuck: That's fine, but first I need to know that she's gonna be safe.

Fulcrum agent; That's not how this works.

You hand over the list, or I sh**t you both.

Casey: That's not how this works either!

Go wait in the car, Chuck.

Fulcrum agent: Don't move, Chuck.

Stay right where you are.

I've got a sharpsh**ter trained on you.

Casey: Now I have the sn*per.

Fulcrum agent: I-I still have the advantage.

Somebody give me the list, or I sh**t Chuck.

Casey: Yeah, go ahead and sh**t him.

You know, I was thinking about sh**ting him myself.

Chuck; That's a great-- Why would you-- What, what? !

What are you, crazy? !

How about nobody, how about nobody sh**t Chuck? !

Casey: I'm not Sarah, Chuck.

Give him that list, and I will end your miserable existence. It's your choice.

Fulcrum agent; Would you rather I sh**t the girl?

Chuck: Please don't. I would rather you not sh**t the girl-- just point the g*n back at me, please.

No!

Casey: No, go ahead, sh**t the girl.

Some situations, collateral damage is unavoidable.

Chuck: No. It's always avoidable.

Look, I have it, okay? Here it is.

Right here, here's the list.

Casey: Bartowski!

Chuck: Look, you got a better plan?

'Cause I'm not okay with collateral damage right now.

Here you go.

Here's your list of all the FULCRUM agents.

Fulcrum agent; Well, Mr. Casey, FULCRUM would rather you not know who we have inside government.

Show must go on.

Casey: Now, Sarah!

Chuck: Okay. Hey, hey. You're okay.

You're okay...

Oh, I'm so sorry.

I'm so sorry. You okay?

You okay? You okay? You okay? You okay?

Jill: I am now.

Morgan: Ah, poker night. And all I had to do was rat out my best friend.

Emmett: I saw that, Grimes.

Oh, don't worry.

What's a card game without a couple of brewskis?

Jeff: And by "couple, " do you mean 14?

Emmett: Oh, God.

Mmm. Mmm!

I won't forget the loyalty you showed, Grimes.

Tonight, we drink.

Tomorrow, Bartowski gets his.

Morgan: Whatever, dude.

Beer?

Emmett: Oh, no.

I brought my own. Whoo!

Mmm.

Mmm.

Mmm.

Tastes like high school!

Lester: Donkeys wild.

Let's go-- who's gonna put the "poker" in "strip poker. "

Let's play it out, boys, let's play it out.

Sarah: Are you sure you're okay?

Jill: I think so.

Is this a normal day at the office for you?

Sarah: Yeah, except Casey doesn't usually sing.

Casey: Okay, first I'm gonna have you arrested for crimes against your country.

Then I'll take you down to Club Gitmo, hang you up by your fingernails with the boys...

Chuck: Hey! I appreciate the threats, I really do.

But can I please explain myself?

Casey: Explain what? You gave away classified intel to the enemy.

Now we're never gonna know the identities of those FULCRUM agents.

Chuck; Ye of little faith.

Casey, come on, buddy.

Do you really think that I would give that guy the list to destroy before I made myself a copy?

Casey: Hey.

Chuck; Q-36 game copier.

Thankfully, Morgan is too cheap and unethical to pay for his own video game entertainment.

Canada's greatest gift since Shania Twain.

Jill: Thank you for saving my life.

Sorry for not trusting you with Chuck.

Sarah: You want to pay me back?

Don't hurt him again.

Jill: I won't.

I wouldn't.

I care about Chuck.

Sarah: Me, too.

It's my job to protect him.

From anything.

Morgan; Hey, Emmett.

Emmett: Stop screaming.

Morgan: Wow.

Little too much fun last night, huh, pal?

Emmett: I should never have gone for that second Fuzzy Navel.

That wine cooler had four percent alcohol.

Morgam: I know. I know.

I tell you what, though, let's talk about it, in my office.

Yeah, come on. This way.

You know, I wanted to talk to you today about a little technique that we developed around here.

It worked wonders during the Harry Tang years.

Emmett: Can we talk about this some other time, Grimes?

Morgan: You see, BuyMoria is a country governed by law.

But occasionally, a vigilante hero has to rise and take that law into his own hands to protect the country that he loves.

This is from last night.

After poker.

Emmett: I'm Big Mike!

What you doing here, Emmett? !

Morgan: Is that you in Big Mike's office after hours?

That's weird, because I thought that was off-limits.

Even to you.

Emmett: I didn't go six years to community college to assistant manage a bunch of register jockeys!

Morgan: Oh, man, you do not look good.

Now, I know that we're... countrymen and all.

I hate to have to run this up the flagpole.

Emmett: You wouldn't.

Morgan: Damn right I would.

If you don't call off this witch hunt for Chuck Bartowski, this goes public.

Do we understand each other?

Good.

Viva BuyMoria.

Emmett: Tastes like high school.

Casey: Okay, computer's back up.

It's decoding the list. Just a matter of time before we learn the identities of FULCRUM's agents.

Chuck: Ooh.

Oh!

Hey. Hey, yeah, hey.

That's fine, I wasn't gonna pack that one anyway.

Oh, wait. Hey, no.

The hotel's booked, so... we should probably go if we're gonna b*at traffic!

Jill: Or we could just get the weekend started right now.

Chuck; Uh, what-what about, what about the...

Jill: Hm... I have some spy moves of my own.

Casey: We're gonna do this again?

Sarah: You know what?

He had a big day today.

How about we give him a little break, huh?

Casey: Encryption key's been found.

Chuck; Safe at last.