Episode Report Card Sobell: B- | Grade It Now! YOU GRADE IT Escaping from the prison of love
By Sobell | Season 1 | Episode 19 | Aired on 04.23.2006
Speaking of Blackfoot, Montana, it's time for that town's resident crank caller to put in his dentures and call the vice president of the United States to ask her if her refrigerator's running. Madame Vice President's not having it today; she clicks on the phone and says in the tones reserved for dealing with recalcitrant idiot siblings, "I thought this was clear, Terrence: if you want to talk, we set up a meeting, at home, in person." Terrence ignores this and skips straight to the sibling button-pushing: "I saw the latest tracking. Your polls are headed south. The Burrows thing's finally starting to gain some traction with the swings. It could hurt." "Goodbye, Terrence," Madame Vice President sing-songs, and Terrence continues petulantly, "You said it was almost over...are we talking about Lincoln Burrows, or your candidacy?" Madame Vice President reminds him, "The only reason you're still alive is because I won't let them kill you." She and Kellerman have similar rhetorical styles with the whole I-get-to-pick-if-you-live-or-die thing. Terrence is all, "Yeah, but the thing I can't quite figure is, with the crap storm this thing's become, why they haven't killed you." Wow, that is the most humorless prank call EVER.
Michael flings himself around the yard, having a good sulk in the rain. He's distracted from his pity party by the beatific vision of Dr. Sara floating toward the prison. Nurse Gossipson is attending her like some umbrella-wielding cherub. Michael Blue Steels until Dr. Sara's compelled to return his gaze, but their ocular tryst is interrupted by Sucre coming over to ask if Michael's maybe figured out how to get into the infirmary. He has not. Sucre asks Michael if he's working a game on the lady doctor. Michael sighs and says unhappily, "I don't know."
Cut to T-Bag shaving in his cell. Yes, alone. Yes, unsupervised. Why in the Sam Hill did he have to turn to that extra and make a big fuss about getting a razor blade when apparently all he had to do was wander back to his cell? Abruzzi skulks in a doorway and announces in a regionally confused accent, "Uh've hid tahm ta thaynk." T-Bag's eyes bug out, possibly in fear but more likely in confusion. Abruzzi assures T-Bag that all that thinking was not directed at how T-Bag tried to kill him, but rather at pondering the mysteries of Jesus. Abruzzi tells T-Bag, "I didn't come here to inflict any more pain. Take my hand, so we can put this behind us, please." T-Bag's twin fears -- being shivved or being forced to sing "Jesus Wants Me For A Sunbeam" -- paralyze him. Eventually, he croaks, "Show me the palm of your other hand." Abruzzi lurches into the cell, his one arm behind him. He groans, "Don't. Insult me. After all that you've done. Don't. Insult me." It's like Frankenstein is reciting blank verse. T-Bag finally gives him the world's most cautious handshake. Abruzzi asks him, "Does not a warm hand feel better than a cold shank?" T-Bag smiles nervously and says, "You got a point there, John." Abruzzi claps his other hand over their linked hands. T-Bag spits out, "Truce." Abruzzi says simply, "You got it." Then Abruzzi leaves. T-Bag sighs, rolls his eyes, and looks for a clean set of britches to wear.
In another part of the prison, Pope is unloading all over Bellick. I love how they're all, "You mean a convict on Death Row just disappeared into the vast rural acreage and your friend couldn't find him?" Pope tells Bellick, "You've got two hours to find him. After that, I have got to talk to the press." Again -- surprised no reporters in the prairie state actually listen to police scanners, because otherwise there'd be media crawling all over the place now. Pope adds, "There's an escaped killer outside our walls, and some things are more important than careers." Bellick stares uncomprehendingly. I can see where he'd have difficulty grasping that idea.