Episode Report Card Sobell: B- | Grade It Now! YOU GRADE IT Out Of The Dust
By Sobell | Season 3 | Episode 10 | Aired on 01.20.2008
Meanwhile, on the outside, we learn two things: Lincoln is buying a bomb, and he needs a new translator because Sofia has the annoying tendency to question everything right at the moment when Linc needs to play it cool. Oh, wait -- we learn a third thing: Linc is very subtly undermining the Whistler/Sofia relationship. Linc, who would have thought you had that kind of strategery?
Then we cut to bar where Susan B. is busy sending an email from one "Gary Miller" to "Edward Guthrie." The text of the message: "Ed, we'll be in contact soon. Sales are through the roof! Hope you're working on your putting." Sucre comes in and sits next to Susan B. She leans in and says, all flirty-like, "Know what I just found out? That 'sucre' means 'sugar.'" Our sweet boy rolls his eyes as he admits that it does. Susan B. purrs, "So every time I'm saying your name, I'm calling you 'sugar.'" Sucre gives her a pained look and grunts, "Basically, yeah." Haaaaaa. These two may be my new favorite uncouple. She could eat him for breakfast without breaking a nail and he knows it. Sucre then lies about how Linc has nothing new cooking. Susan B. asks, "And did he become an Eagle scout last night too?" I love it. When did I begin to like Susan B. so much? This is disturbing. Anyway, Susan B. gives Sucre a long look and he lies, "I could have just made something up to get paid, but I didn't. I'm not trying to get on your bad side either." Susan B. sits back in her chair and says flatly, "You know what? I believe you." Run, Sucre, run! She's on to your lying ways! Sucre tries to run and Susan B. says, "Whoa! Whoa! What am I, a toothless crack whore? Sit down." Sucre reluctantly parks his butt, and Susan B. tells him she keeps her promises, so here's a nice, slim cashier's check for $25,000. Sucre sort of freaks when he looks at the check. Susan B.'s pleased at this response, so she slides off the stool and makes to sashay off, stopping only to whisper, "Keep your ears open, sugar." The minute she leaves, Sucre reaches over, grabs her drink and knocks it back in one gulp. I can see where she'd do that to you.
Back inside the prison -- oh, God, the sand, it's tricking into Whistler and Mahone's faces. Gaaaaaaaah! Hate sand! The guys aren't too thrilled about it either -- they're the ones holding up what looks like the side of a wooden crate against the pressing sand until Michael can screw a bolt in between the side of the tunnel and the makeshift lid. Whistler asks, "That little piece of metal is going to hold all this weight?" Michael does not bother to fill him in on the mighty prowess of a friction coefficient. Mahone asks shakily, "How many more of those are we going to need?" Michael shrugs that they'll want about 20. Whistler says, "Well, that gets us into No Man's Land, and then what?" Michael snaps, "A helicopter would be nice." Haaaaa. The writers had on the funny pants when they were typing this episode. Whistler says sharply, "I was supposed to kill you." "So you're not a fisherman," Michael says. Whistler gives the they-went-after-my-family excuse, and Mahone looks up sharply. Michael and Whistler get progressively more snippy, and Mahone comes over, saying, "Well! It's a crazy world. We all agree on that. We have a lot more work to do." Blessed are the peacemakers, Mahone.