In this week’s BN episode, Life gets a touch complicated when a (former) old friend causes Michael all sorts of headaches by pretending to be him. Understandably so. As I learned firsthand many years ago, stealing a buddy’s identity is not a game for the faint of heart.

I should elaborate. A few BN blogs ago, I recounted the time I pulled an Ocean’s 11-style heist in Montreal to nab the answers to a much-needed summer French exam. What I neglected to mention was why getting a decent grade was so vitally important: I was attending the course under my pal Cory’s name, and he’d kick my ass if I failed it.

This scholastic bait and switch wasn’t the most well-thought-out moment of our friendship. But hey, it was 1993: people were full metal idiots in those days.

                        Hi, it’s 1993 and we’re Ugly Kid Joe. Folks sure do love us back now.

You see, a few weeks earlier, Cory was set to fly to Quebec from British Columbia to take said French class. But he nabbed a high-paying summer job at the last minute and didn’t want to pass on the serious coin involved. So he sent me in his stead. Cory needed the credit to finish off his university degree, and I dug the idea of spending six drunken weeks in Montreal with free room and board. It was win-win. (*)

• (*) Local ordinances state it’s illegal to be sober in Montreal between the months of June and August. 
  

Of course, there was no chance we’d ever get away with such a devious plan. The Canadian post-secondary educational system had strict measures in place to prevent this sort of roguish behaviour. Checks and balances. Photo identification. A series of no-nonsense deans, each more by-the-books than the last.

Yet got away with it we did. The first day of class, I simply said “Bonjour, je m’appel Cory” to my instructor and that was kind of that. I was him. Most impressively, nothing bad whatsoever happened as a result of this scheme. I got Cory his French credit (a C-minus, but screw you, French is hard) and he made a zillion dollars at his job in BC. Then he graduated university and is now extremely successful. Well, I’m assuming. We haven’t really spoken since that summer.

Shit, I wonder if he’s been hiding out all these years, waiting for me to tell him the coast is clear?

Shit shit shit.  

                                                 Ladies and gentlemen: the internet!

BN Season 3, Episode 13: ‘Enemies Closer.’ We start off poolside again this week, with Michael sharing a cranked-too-high hot tub with the sociopath you love to hate, Mason Gilroy. Gilroy has a new task for our Mr. Westen: track down six weeks’ worth of flight data from every private plane flying in and out of Miami. Knowing he can’t take Gilroy down unless he plays along, Michael plays along. He’s going to need Sam’s help though, and spoiler alert: things get a little testy between the two best buds. More on that later though. (*)

• (*) I’ll tell you when I feel like it – you’re not the boss of me.

‘Cause right now Michael has some equally sociopathic fish to fry in the form of Larry, his former spy partner who turned heel a while back. You see, Larry’s just pulled a bit of a no-no: he killed a hitman (who’s currently lying on Michael’s floor) and stole two million dollars from a Colombian drug cartel. Worse still: he did it under Michael’s name. Hey, what are friends for?

                      This uh, also happens in the episode. Long story – just go with it. 

So Larry – again, not a nice fellow – has our hero against the ropes. As such, let’s think of Michael being his own client this week. The goal: clear his name before he’s persona non grata with the Colombians, and maybe teach his old mentor a thing or two about not being a grade A douche. (*)

• (*) You know, like Kathy Griffin. That’s right, I said it.

Hey, did you ever see Weekend at Bernie’s? I’m pretty sure Michael did. Which would explain why he pins the crime on the dead hitman, then tries to convince his boss the dude’s still alive. You know, create some eyewitness sightings around town, then prop his body up inside a car as if he’s taking a siesta. The awesomeness writes itself. Alas, when the Colombian boss machine guns our deceased hitman and pulls the two million bucks from his trunk, it turns out to be a heaping pile of forgery. (*)

• (*) Not unlike Kathy Griffin.  

Fortunately, Michael tracks down the real money (Larry hid it in Mikey’s loft, inside the punching bag), then pledges to blow Larry’s cover if he doesn’t leave town for good. Goodbye Larry. Oh, and the dough gets returned to its rightful owners. The, uh, Colombian drug cartel.

• (*) I’m sure they’ll use it to build hospitals and orphanages.

Which brings us to the Gilroy stuff and those six weeks’ worth of flight schedules. Sam does a huge solid for Michael by pulling strings with his Coast Guard buddies to nab them all. And using his super Sam skills, he deduces which of the hundreds of flight paths is the one Gilroy wants his mitts on. When Michael insists on delivering all the data to Gilroy – not just the one flight – Sam gets mega pissed. He doesn’t want to risk Senor Sociopath selling the rest of them to some anonymous bidders. As such, he storms out and severs the friendship. Gotta say: I ain’t never seen Sam this fired up before!

                        Well, except here. But that was a whole ‘nother mission.  

Fortunately, cooler heads prevail and Michael apologies. In the end, he gives Gilroy the deets on the one singular flight, which seems to placate the charming ol’ psycho. The question is, what’s Gilroy got planned? For the moment, he’s keeping his cards close to his big ol’ shirtless chest. (*)

• (*) Seriously, that dude like, never wears a shirt.

AfterBurn:

-- Badass Voiceover Goodness: MICHAEL (V.O.): “Preserving a corpse is not a frequent job requirement for a spy. But if you must, stashing a body is a lot like storing high explosives: air, water, and heat are the enemy.”
-- I’m listening to Bjork as I write this. That still makes me a manly chick magnet, right?
-- The episode’s C story has Michael’s younger bro Nate paying a visit to Madeline. With his hot new Vegas wife in tow! And let’s just say she and Maddie get along about as well as Boleslaus III of Poland and the Pomeranians. Hey 12th century European war buffs: can I get a ‘what-what’?!
-- Kathy Griffin. I’m not a fan.
-- Showcase’s Burn Notice YogurtWatch©: There was no yogurt in this week’s episode. Zero. Perhaps the chart below can explain this anomaly in better detail.