Episode Report Card Aaron: B- | Grade It Now! YOU GRADE IT Stool Pigeon
By Aaron | Season 6 | Episode 5 | Aired on 02.01.2003
I can't believe there's only three episodes left. And they say time passes slowly in prison. Ha!
As always, we open with an Augustus Interlude. Forgiveness, it seems, is more exciting than bachelor parties and bungee jumping. But not nearly as exciting as black-and-white flashbacks of Schillinger peeing on Robson, apparently, because that one ranks right up there with Keyser Soze and Kevin Costner's water-purifier as one of my all-time favorite cinematic urination scenes. What?! Doesn't everyone have a favorite urination scene?
The episode proper begins in the weight room, with Schillinger quizzing Robson on the details of Cutler's death. James gleefully exposits that everyone from Sister Pete on down thinks Wolfie offed himself, and before I even get a chance to express my joy that Vern actually has lines this week, Robson is already back in The Brotherhood. Hell, he even earns the honor of spotting Schillinger, who's hitting the bench press pretty hard here. Although if Vern has eyes in the back of his head, does he really need a spotter? And while we're at it, this now makes two former prags Schillinger has gone soft on this season. I wonder what that portends for Tobias? Nothing good, I would assume.
Over in McManus's office, Alvarez is shocked to discover that he was listed as the sole beneficiary in Cutler's will. Since this is all just set-up for a probable future plotline where Alvarez gets over Maritza and finds true love with the bitter yet repentant widow of a white supremacist, we don't really need to go into a lot of detail yet. Just know that among other things, Alvarez has inherited Cutler's "house, car, [and] his 1942 Indian motorcycle."
He also seems to have inherited a few of Cutler's more recent acquisitions as well, because Miguel's visit to a mercifully LuPone-less library suddenly brings him face-to-face with Robson. And also Schillinger, who demands that Alvarez immediately sign all of Cutler's possessions over to his widow. "I already thought of that," replies Alvarez, confirming my suspicions as to where this plot is going while simultaneously affording Robson the opportunity to answer, "Don't think, [racial epithet deleted], just do." "Maybe I should give all his assets to you, Roby," replies Alvarez, in an early Line-Of-The-Week. "Being that you already gave him your ass." Hee! It's the quasi-lisp and gratuitous butt-scratching Kirk Acevedo throws in on that last part that really sell the line.
And then the editor does him even one better, by cutting from Robson calling Miguel a "cunt" to a Basic Instinct beaver-shot of Robson's girlfriend waiting in the visitor's lounge. Heh. Robson comes in to join her, and after confessing that things have gotten a wee bit "hectic" for him recently, he quickly tries to reassert his manhood by shoving his tongue down her throat and his fingers into her, uh, Sharon Stone. So to speak. The girlfriend, however, is either strongly opposed to public displays of affection, or simply unable to become aroused when her partner isn't wearing a control-top stocking on his head, because she struggles to pull away and loudly describes Robson as a "cocksucker" for all the world to hear. Oops. That probably wasn't a good idea. Our intrepid ex-prag flips out and shoves her against the wall, shouting, "I! Am not! A cocksucker!" as he does. Then the guards haul him away, and we're treated to one of those patented Oz "throwing a guy into the hole" shots where you never know if you'll get to see his dick or not. For the record, this time we don't. And I'm not sure what it says about me as a Jewish heterosexual that I just watched this scene three times in slow motion so as to accurately confirm or deny the visibility of the mangled hemi-penis of a known anti-Semite for you. I do know what it says about R.E. Rogers, though, which is that he's got excellent fine motor control. And also shapely calves. He stands up, grabs a handy nearby bucket, and proceeds to smash the room's only working light fixture, thereby plunging us into the murky blackness that is Oz's natural state. Maybe that's what happened to all the light bulbs.