I have never sat through an entire episode of “24” before, but I felt compelled to watch the sixth season premiere after learning that Kal Penn would be playing a supporting role. So I watched all four hours of it on Sunday and Monday. And afterwards I felt pretty queasy. For those of you who missed any of it, I’ll give a you synopsis of what happens to Kal Penn’s character over those four hours. (If you have watched it, you can skip the next two paragraphs.)

Kal plays Ahmed Amar, a teenager living in suburban Los Angeles. A suicide bomber has just blown up a bus downtown. We meet Amar when the FBI arrives in the suburbs to take his father away for reasons unknown to viewers. A drunk neighbor, Stan, watches Amar’s father being taken away and proceeds to attack Amar, calling him a terrorist. The kind liberal Mr. Wallace, who lives across the street, witnesses the attack and intervenes, gently saying, “Stan, he’s no more of a terrorist than you or me.”

The Wallace family takes Amar in. Ironically, Amar then receives a phone call from (gasp) an evil Muzzie terrorist, Fayed, the cartoonish archvillain of the show. Amar proceeds to hold the family hostage, demanding that Mr. Wallace deliver a package to Fayed. (He can’t do it himself, because he’s injured from the hate crime.) When Mr. Wallace’s teenage son asks, “Why are you doing this? We’re friends,” Amar responds, “We’re friends?! You can’t even pronounce my name. It’s not Aw-med. It’s ACCCCCCH-med.” (And it’s not Kal Penn, it’s Kalpen Modi.) Mr. Wallace later proclaims, “Stan was right. You are a terrorist.” Mr. Wallace then leaves to deliver the package. A little while later, counter-terrorist agents enter, killing Amar and saving the Mrs. and younger Wallace. But it’s too late. The delivered package helps set off a “suitcase nuke,” presumably killing hundreds of thousands of people in the process.

So what are the morals of Ahmed Amar’s story? You can’t trust brown people, even the ones living in posh suburbs who speak with American accents. If they ever correct your pronunciation of their names, call the FBI right away. And if you happen to witness a hate crime against an Arab-looking person, let the attack continue. Don’t interfere. Chances are, the victim was about to help detonate a nuclear bomb anyway.

In addition to the improbable storyline, the characters were poorly developed. We never understand why someone like Amar, a teenager who lives in a ritzy neighborhood, would be a terrorist. All we know is that he’s a brown Muslim and that he’s in cahoots with some very bad people. And that he shouts in Arabic before he fires his gun. When Amar’s hostages ask him why he wants to be a terrorist, he replies, “It’s not because I want to. It’s because I have to.” Well, that still doesn’t tell us anything.

I get that it’s just a television show. I get that Kal Penn is just paying his dues, and doing what he has to do to get paid. I get that it’s very easy for me to sit behind my computer and rail against shows like “24” and go to my cushy job in the morning while some of my college friends have been trying for years to make it into Hollywood with little success. I get it. Nonetheless, I’m not happy about the idea of brown people playing such two-dimensional, hateful roles. My worst fear is that some crazy person will watch this show and think, Hey, if Kumar Patel could be a terrorist, maybe that Desai kid across the street could be one, too. Even though he’s basically a nice guy, I know deep down that they’re all the same. It’s possible. I saw it on “24.”