Episode Report Card Sobell: B- | Grade It Now! YOU GRADE IT Michael and Lincoln -- not dead!
By Sobell | Season 2 | Episode 3 | Aired on 09.03.2006
The boys are tooling along in the Acura, and Michael has to smack Lincoln's hand to keep him from monkeying with the radio. Linc comments, "Man, it's quiet out here. Inside, it was always noise, you know? Someone yelling, guards making rounds. I got used to it -- heh." Michael deadpans, "You're right. We should go back." Then the two of them crack up. Linc confirms that the tattoos contained not only the escape plan, but the post-escape logistics as well. Michael smiles as he says. "Breaking out was just the beginning. Now it gets more interesting." Lincoln wryly says, "'Cause me being strapped to an electric chair wasn't interesting enough?" Michael explains that on the inside, they had the element of surprise because nobody knew that they were planning anything, but now...we begin to get Mahone flashbacks as Michael says, "That guy, the one in the elevator? It's almost as if he e knows where weâre going, what weâre thinking. Itâs only a matter of time before he finds out about the money, Bolshoi Booze, our way into Mexico â everything." The brothers chew on that for a moment, then decide to swing into action. Michael opens his cell phone and begins talking into a voicemail box: "Hey, it's me, and I've got Linc. We're on our way there. If for some reason you can't make it, call me back at 917-454-" and it cuts off, thus dooming the poor people with those first six digits in their phone number weeks of crazed fans calling them in the off-chance that the producers set up a phone number with a super-secret series-related message on it.
Wheeler practically skips over to Mahone's desk with the news that Michael's formerly-dormant rented voice mail account now has a new message. Better still, it's from a mobile phone, and if Michael keeps his phone on, they'll be able to track him by location.
Meanwhile, that bobblehead is still hassling Sucre. And soon, so is The Man, in the form of a motorcycle cop. As the police officer pulls up to the window, Sucre reminds himself, "Don't do anything stupid, don't do anything stupid." Sucre, do anything stupid? What are the odds?
Commercials. I have to admit, I don't quite understand the whole point to air fresheners, even if they do look like lava lamps. Wouldn't it just be cheaper to keep the house clean?
When we get back from the break, Sucre's pulled over for the nice officer. The cop's all, "You know why I pulled you over today?" "Racial profiling?' Sucre replies. Kidding. He does the same thing most of us do: "Um. Speeding?" The cop wants license and registration, and Sucre's all, "I lost my license, but here is the registration." The cop is all, "So. This is your car...Mrs. Miller?" "Haven't you ever seen Transamerica? It's like that, only in reverse -- both geographical and gender, see?" Sucre replies. I WISH. He stammers out that Mrs. Miller is his wife. The cop heads back to his motorcycle to go discuss the issue of Mrs. Miller's expired license plates with HQ. The Virgin Mary continues her baleful head bobbing.