Episode Report Card Sobell: B+ | 1 USERS: B+ YOU GRADE IT Let the Water Wash Away Your Sins
By Sobell | Season 4 | Episode 9 | Aired on 11.03.2008
We cut to GATE, where T-Bag is clucking for everyone to hustle inside before anyone can ask "Cole Pfeiffer" what he's doing with a bunch of beefy, bald guys. While he's opening up the trap door in the storage room off T-Bag's office, Michael snaps at T-Bag to stay in his office and keep people away from the entrance to the underworld there. T-Bag says, "I'll stay in my nice, air-conditioned office, Pretty, and you can crawl down into your little hole now." As Michael heads down the ladder, T-Bag dramatically intones, "Go ahead, craaawl!" I realize the odds of this ever happening are tiny, but wouldn't it be awesome if some amusement park did a Prison Break ride and we had an audioanimatronic T-Bag head pop out intoning, "Go ahead, craaaaawl" as a roller-coaster car plunged into blackness? You know -- like Pirates of the Carribean, only with less eyeliner. The other cons follow Michael down.
And just as T-Bag comes out of the storage closet, he runs into his big boss, White, who asks, "Cole? What the hell is going on here?" One presumes it's because White just heard his crack salesman channeling Gollum and croaking, "Go ahead, craaaaaawl" to nothing in particular, but it turns out that White is exercised over Andy's resignation fax. White continues that he's so worried, he's contacted Andy's fiancée, and she hasn't heard from him, and T-Bag dissembles, "He's probably on a bender somewhere." White protests, "[Andy's] a boy scout! None of this makes any sense, Cole. But I tell you what -- I'm going to look into it." Cut to T-Bag looking as if he wished Gretchen and her piano wire were standard equipment in any office.
We then cut to the subterranean nest of tunnels below GATE, and I see that the showrunners have saved on production costs by filming this scene in total blackness. Seriously, we see an occasional flash of Michael's head, a few flashlight beams bobbing around like fireflies, and nothing else. There's a dull roaring sound; Sucre is the only one who asks what it is.
We don't find out just yet, because we cut to Gretchen in a hotel room, primping herself. By the by, she's wearing a very nice, silky blouse in a sort of dusty cocoa -- it's really working on her, and it matches her residual bruises. I love a good, multitasking wardrobe item. Her phone rings; it's T-Bag and he's panicky: "While you're nowhere to be found, there's sleuthin' going on here regarding the whereabouts of one Andrew Blauner." Gretchen does not even stop applying mascara as she drawls, "And?" "And if I'm going down for this little homicide, I'm not going alone. We're going together like traffic and weather," T-Bag says. Gretchen tells him to chillax, as nobody will ever find a body. As she puts on some painfully high heels, Gretchen asks, "Where are Scofield and Burrows?" T-Bag points out that they're upholding their end of the bargain -- "Which begs the question: what the hell are you doing?" Gretchen picks up a gun and plays with it as she coos, "Me? I'm getting ready for a meeting." And I hate to throw props to Gretchen here, but having sat through my share of meetings lately, I'm beginning to think that maybe, there's a place for firearms as a means of effective agenda management. One can only endure so much PowerPoint, after all.