Incredible stuff last night, as this guy, Quaid, had a strange obsession with Mars, despite his wife, Sharon Stone, trying to push him away from thinking about it — mostly out of jealousy of his recurring dream about another woman — and his coworker warning him not to follow-through on a whim to go to a memory implanting clinic called Recall. But he totally did it anyway and, of-fucking-course, had a schizoid embolism in the process! Or did he??? Quaid lost his shit during the procedure, but before the memory of his secret agent voyage to Mars was actually implanted — at least according to the sassy Recall doctor lady — and started yelling about his cover being blown, and “the agency,” and people chasing him, before escaping, nearly being killed, having to deal with reality, having a heart-to-heart with his phony wife, running from Michael Ironside, learning that he’s actually Hauser, fucking up a Johnny Cab, removing some huge-ass glowing homing-beacon implant from his nose, and then heading to Mars — for reals! — for “two weeks.” And then shit really got crazy!
WHAT A GAME!
Gibbers… start the reactor! (Feel free to get anyone who didn’t stop that damn kid from interfering with a ball Jose Bautista needed to catch in the top of the ninth thrown the fuck out of the stadium, too, while you’re at it.)