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Our scene opens with Naevia, sparring with everyone’s favorite horse whisperer, Diotimos. Naevia quickly gets the upper hand, and Diotimos realizes that he is much better wrestling with dead horse innards than with empowered women. He wishes he could return to his former job: hamburger cook at McDonald’s.
Billy Ray Crixus (seriously, Crixus: Cut. Your. Hair.) arrives for Diotimos, who is being summoned by none other than Spartacus himself. Gulp. Is Diotimos finally getting his comeuppance for mouthing off about Spartacus acting a little too big for his britches (well, in Spartacus’ case, too big for his peplum) in the previous episode? Nope—Spartacus and his advisors want intelligence on Diotimos’ home city. Camp Runaway Slave is looking for a new location, and Spartacus feels that Diotimos’ hometown may have everything the slaves need: stunning ocean side vistas, good resale potential, and excellent local school districts. Oh, yes, this is House Hunters International, only with a twist: when Spartacus goes looking for new digs, the previous owners tend to get their heads chopped off in the process. Talk about motivated sellers!
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Everyone has a thought about the potential move. Crixus is concerned that the main gate sounds too fortified. Gannicus is worried that the local brothel population may not have enough variety to support his interests. And Agron, thrilled by the prospect of being so close to the Tyrrhenian, just delightfully claps his hands and tries to get his leader to sing along: “By the sea, Sparty-T, That’s the life I covet, / You and me, Sparty-T, Oh I know you’d love it.” Well, he is the gay one, after all. Of course he’d know show tunes.
Diotimos assures Spartacus that the city is well suited for their needs, but getting access to the gate might be a problem. Gannicus proffers that he knows a blacksmith in the city, name of Attius, who, with proper motivation (i.e. big fat bribe,) might be inclined to help them. Diotimos tells Spartacus that if he has problems getting through the gates, then dropping the name of his former dominus, Laurus, might help grease the wheels. Spartacus sniffs and says, “My good friends Hercules and Perseus say that it is terribly gauche to name drop.” Diotimos is duly chastised.
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Making their way to the city, Spartacus, Crixus, and Gannicus manage to talk their way past the guards at the main gate (do I dare ask why Agron is always being left to bring up the rear, or is the answer just glaringly obvious?) The trio are now safely inside, though they had to check their weapons before they were allowed in—is this like valet service in Los Angeles? Will they even get their own weapon back? (“Hey, I checked in a broadsword and you’re giving me back a butter knife.” “This is what matches your ticket, sir.”)
Once inside, they come across a slave market where Laurus, Diotimos’ former master, is punishing a treasonous slave by tying him to a wall and having everyone hurl insults at him. While the inflamed crowd throws barbs about his eight dollar haircut and obvious cankle issue, the slave responds with a quick rejoinder of, “Sticks and stones may break my bones but names will never hurt me.”
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Thanking the slave for his keen advice, the crowd quickly turns to throwing actual stones, at which point the slave starts to scream out Spartacus’ name and says that Spartacus will bring death to all the Romans there. Spartacus is a bit put off by this—and not just because he heard Nasir holler the same thing from Agron's tent the night before. (What, it’s healthy to experiment with roleplay in a committed relationship).
Spartacus is also trying to keep a low profile here, so he ends the poor slave’s suffering by hurling the final blow. Considering his knack for beaning the guy so accurately in the head, I expect Sparty to get scouted for the Yankees next year.
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Meanwhile, in Rome, Tiberius reports to his father about all his various busy bee activities in gathering together the necessary arms and materials needed in order to properly outfit his army. Crassus seems less than impressed, and even when Tiberius presents a sample of the weapons and the boffo discount he got for buying them in bulk, Crassus only shrugs. Oh, poor Tiberius. We’ve all been there, trying to please our parents. Look, Tibby—may I call you Tibby?—I’m going to give you some advice a wise old drag queen once gave me: never tuck to the left. I don’t know what it means, and it’s not remotely applicable to just about any situation in life, but look at it this way—you’re the young, handsome, rich scion of the wealthiest family in all of ancient Rome—you want sympathy, don’t call me, call Oprah-cus. I’m nearly twice your age, definitely twice your debt, not quite twice your weight (but closer than I’d care to think,) and definitely twice your level of bitterness. In short, you suck. Call someone who cares.
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Crassus may be distracted because a hot blond with bulges in all the right places has recently arrived. I don’t know about you, but casting Todd Lasance as Julius Caesar has certainly put an “et tu” in my “Brute.” Those biceps. Those glutes! That scraggly goatee that makes him look like a Occupy Wall Street protestor! (Well, it can’t all be a hit…) Anyway, our new resident hottie is a cocky, scruffy blond who looks a little miffed that he has been summoned to Crassus’ abode. But, as Crassus points out, he has money, but no name; and Caesar has plenty of “fancy” lineage but is as cash poor as a Lohan (just pick one: Dina, Michael, Lindsay, Ali—at this point it’s like shooting fish in a barrel, really.) Perhaps, Crassus suggests, if they join forces to take down Spartacus together, they can both mutually benefit from the arrangement. Caesar seems intrigued by Crassus’ offer of a quid pro quo, which I’m pretty sure is Latin for quid pro quo…
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Back in the city whose name I never caught except that it is quite lengthy and probably hard to spell, Spartacus and crew find Attius, who is unsurprisingly not ecstatic when he discovers that Gannicus has brought the actual Spartacus to his home (“Spartacus—the bringer of piss and shit!” he says. At which point Billy Ray Crixus nudges Spartacus and whispers, “Your reputation precedes you.” Classic.) Spartacus tells Attius that they want him to make two swords for them, and that they will pay him well for his troubles. He eventually agrees, but Gannicus stays behind to keep an eye on him anyway.
With Crixus returning to the join Agron, Spartacus is left scout the city on his own. He runs across Laeta, the wife of a local grain merchant, whom we have seen before, in the square with the slave. Laeta is kindly and considerate, so either she will die horribly and we’ll feel sorry about that, or she is going to end up boinking one of the gladiators (or, knowing this show, both, and at the same time.)
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Laeta shows Spartacus her wares—her grain wares, that is—and the two seem chummy. Later, while still trying to find any place to get a cup of coffee that isn’t a Starbuckius, Spartacus runs across Laurus, who challenges why Spartacus is visiting his fair city to begin with. Laeta intervenes, saying that he has business with her man, and Spartacus learns that the city is under curfew at night. Oops! That’s going to put a monkey wrench in their whole “running amok” scheme! Confronting Attius, Spartacus suggests they will need more help from him, and will be sure to pay him well for his troubles. Attius is not keen on the idea, but he figures, hey, in for a sestertii, in for a denarii…
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In Rome, as Caesar relaxes in a bath, Kore arrives with wine, and Caesar stands to attention (and when the camera pans to his beautiful backside, we all pay attention.) Caesar gives a speech about how he misses his wife and how Kore can be his wifely substitute.
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As a slave, she can say nothing, but clearly she is not pleased about being the aspartame in Caesar’s low-fat frozen yogurt. Crassus arrives in time and Kore is saved. Crassus clearly does not like Kore being pawed by Caesar (uhh, Crassus, if you’re looking for volunteers willing to be pawed by Caesar, I’ll ask eager participants to sign up in the comments section below,) but he overlooks it for now. The two men discuss strategy and Spartacus and war and Tiberius cannot help but overhear and feel left out. I’m with you on that one, Tibby. It’s like when I visit home and my father and brother discuss farm implements and crop rotations and everything John Deere and I pretend to know what they’re talking about, but I don’t because Sondheim never did a musical about it.
Mrs. Crassus—who I have finally learned is named Tertulla, which just automatically makes her sound like a total shrew—Mrs. C. is all packed and ready to accompany her man and her eldest boy on their big trip. Uhh, they’re not going to Wallyworld, Mrs. C.! Crassus says that she would have to be in the follower’s camp, where the slaves and whores hang out, and Mrs. C. says, “Sounds like the Friday night Lifetime movie viewing at Kathy Griffin’s house.” But her husband says no. Tiberius asks his father what his position will be in the army, and Crassus replies that if Tiberius wants to know about positions he should ask Sabinus. Snap! Oh yes, I did go there! No, Crassus says he is still pondering the matter and Tiberius will have an answer in the morning. It just seems that Crassus is hoping that, by putting it off, Tiberius won’t have a total B.F. (bitch fit) when he finds out that he is the low man on the totem pole.
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Kore, however, intervenes. Demonstrating her influence over her dominus, she argues that Crassus still looks at Tiberius as a boy when the rest of the world sees him as a man (and don’t worry, afterelton.com readers, I checked—the actor playing Tiberius is 20 years old, so you can see him as a man, too.) Crassus ponders why his wife doesn’t give such sage advice, and I imagine it’s because he's going through a mid-life crisis, and Mrs. C's more mature beauty can't compete with Kore’s youthful pertness. Crassus asks Kore to accompany him on the expedition, and she happily accepts.
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Back in the city of whatever, Attius sneaks out after dark and approaches two guards, telling them that Spartacus is here, in the city, and he isn’t out collecting donations for UNICEF. Has Attius turned traitor? No, it’s all just a ruse as he locks a goodly number of guards into the weapons shed while Spartacus and Gannicus make hey with the rest. Gannicus muscles open the gates as the guards break down the door of their temporary prison. But it is too late. Crixus leads the rebels into the city.
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Carnage ensues. Diotimos finds his former slave companions but before he can rescue them Laurus stabs him from behind. Gannicus repays his comrade and Laurus is left smiling ear-to-ear—forever. Seriously, with a grin like that he is ready for his close up, Mr. DeMille. School picture day will never be the same once they see how wide Laurus is smiling. Hold on—I got one more: it’s nice to see a grouch like Laurus die with a smile on his face.
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Laeta desperately searches for her husband, while the city’s citizens scramble madly for safety. But the small guard is no match for Spartacus’ army. The city falls, and only a tiny fraction of Romans remain. Spartacus delays killing them, though. It appears that Laeta’s husband is spreading pitch all over the granary, threatening to burn it down, which would not suit Spartacus’ purposes. He tells Laeta he will spare the lives of everyone left if she can talk her husband into not setting it on fire. She attempts to do so but Spartacus, Crixus, and Gannicus use her pleas as a distraction to kill the man and his guards. Spartacus tells her plainly that he felt the death as much as she did, then orders her bound up in chains. Umm, is anyone else starting to think this guy might have trouble relating to the opposite sex?
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At casa du Crassa, we find Caesar getting a very unusual spa treatment. There’s a slave woman with both her face and a knife in his crotch. Like, really, what the hoop-de-woo-revue is going on down there? I’m not sure I want to know. Seriously, if I wasn’t gay before, that scene might have turned me. Tiberius, ever watching, tells Caesar that he sure indulges some “strange pleasures.” You think? Understatement much?
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Tibby is sulking because he knows Caesar will get the command position, which leaves Tibby the literal and figurative stinking pile of number two. However, Crassus surprises them both by naming Tiberius his second the next morning. Caesar fumes, but Crassus privately promises him even bigger rewards in the future.
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So, wowie! Now Spartacus has his own city to govern. First order of business: banishing all soft drinks over sixteen ounces. Can’t have the slaves getting soft in the middle! And Tiberius and Caesar will be making their way south to find where Spartacus is hiding (umm, the guy just commandeered an entire city—that’s not really hiding.) And then…it’s Sparmageddon time!
