Episode Report Card Sobell: B | Grade It Now! YOU GRADE IT Whoever had "burn" in the office pool wins
By Sobell | Season 1 | Episode 15 | Aired on 03.26.2006
That is not their biggest concern at the moment. What is: the two COs who are reminiscing about sports in some way; the anti-Pope's saying, "Ole Miss, right? Wasn't it Ole Miss?" and Stoltz is saying, "Nah, it was a Midwestern school. Hold on a second. Hey, Bagwell!"
T-Bag's gone to knock on the door. The rest of Team Escarpara is currently shoveling concrete back down into the hole as fast as they can. Stoltz comes in and asks, "You know what school Art Schliester played at?" T-Bag comes walking over and quavers, "Not really sure about that, boss." Inside, Team Escarpara is shoveling like they've never shoveled before. Outside, T-Bag says, "I'm not really not much of a football guy, anyway." Not above the Pop Warner level, he's not. T-Bag continues, "Too much violence." Stoltz does not begin openly snickering. Instead, he prods, "You know the guy I'm talking about, the quarterback, got nailed for gambling." T-Bag doesn't know. Stoltz smirks, "I bet if I asked you what his ass looked like, you'd remember." Oh, now there's no need to get personal. Stoltz decides, "Maybe somebody in the brain trust knows." As he opens the door, Team Escarpara's collective eyes bug out and they all freeze in place. The anti-Pope tells him to drop it and Stoltz is like, "Nah, man, it's been bothering me all day." T-Bag desperately bursts out, "Ohio State!" The guard turns around. Inside, Michael looks like, "Yes. Indeed, Art Schliester did play for the Buckeyes." Stoltz cheers, "That's right! You're not completely worthless after all." Yes -- being a Buckeyes fan more than makes up for a lifetime of raping and killing children. T-Bag's grin lasts for a microsecond before it's replaced by an expression suggesting that come the next riot, T-Bag's going shopping for Stoltz.
Dr. Sara's giving Lincoln a check-up, and he asks if it's possible that he's under so much stress, he's now hallucinating his deadbeat dad. Dr. Sara's not ruling out that possibility.
Michael and Sucre are carrying in a giant drying fan (we are sadly familiar with those following our own pipe-bursting accident and aftermath here at Casa de Sobell), which gives Westmoreland and C-Note some time to bond. Westmoreland fishes with, "I've seen a lot of rackets in my time, but if you're doing what I think you're doing with those postcards, yours definitely takes the cake." C-Note drawls, "How 'bout saving the small talk, old head, 'cause you and I ain't got nothing in common." Westmoreland's undeterred: he asks if C-Note writes them here, then sends them to a pal in Iraq for posting. C-Note snaps, "Why don't you just shut your world-hole, 'cause you don't know nothing about my racket?" Westmoreland presses on that he's seen other guys try duping their family, but he's really impressed by the excuse C-Note's using. Then he asks, "DeeDee -- is that your wife or your kid?" C-Note leans in and whispers, "You listen. I don't even want you to say her name in this prison. You feel me?" Westmoreland says, "A daughter. Definitely a daughter." C-Note flounders before saying, "How would a guy like you know?" Westmoreland tells him, "'Cause I got one myself. You know, after you break outside these walls, that's the first place they're going to look for you." C-Note turns around and asks him with some asperity, "Why is it that you think I'm that dumb that I would go directly there?" Westmoreland grins, "'Cause that's exactly the first place that I'm going to go." He begins laughing, saying, "Maybe we got something in common after all," and C-Note smiles ruefully, acknowledging he's been bested. Oh, Westmoreland. If you were in Mexico, you would be known as "el zorro de plata" and young singers would compose narcocorridos in your honor.
Linc has gone back to thinking about his dad. We flash back to Papa Burrows and Linc at batting practice, and ol' Papa's telling Linc, "See number 11 over there? Keep your eye on him. Watch him closely. Mid-level reliever at best. But he's always working at it -- that's why he's your old man's favorite player. His work ethic." We see young Linc taking in the player's name -- Prall -- and then Linc wakes up in the here and now. Hey -- it turns out that's also the name of the so-called reporter from "Headline News" that was supposed to witness Lincoln's execution. Linc realizes that he's looking at one of two options: either the mid-level relief pitcher made a new life for himself as a reporter, or his dad got into the execution using a false name.