Episode Report Card Sobell: B+ | Grade It Now! YOU GRADE IT "You're a Waste of My Fries"
By Sobell | Season 1 | Episode 17 | Aired on 04.09.2006
Ah, it turns out that Brinker's drop-in wasn't expected. Madame Evil says irritably, "And to what do I owe this honor?" Brinker says she's just there to tell Madame Evil how to vote on the Senate floor later. Madame Evil says caustically, "Look, I get it. The vote comes down to me, I vote no, it gets done." Brinker's all, "Actually, we want you to vote yes." Madame Evil is horrified to contemplate the idea of voting on the side of the environmentalists. I love how "environmentalist" is an epithet here. What I do not love is the Syriana-ization of this show, because A) that movie was convoluted enough, and B) the odds of George Clooney trotting into the prison as a new inmate are very small, and C) I will stroke out on my couch as I contemplate the idea that more people are busy watching a show about Those Darn Oil Cabals than they are in reading a newspaper and noticing that nearly three-quarters of a million dollars flowed from oil lobbyists to our own elected officials last year. Anyhoodle, Brinker explains that Madame Evil can continue to shampoo baby seals in raw crude on her own time; the point to this vote is to make her appear more moderate so America's idiot electorate can justify voting for her in the next presidential go-round. Besides, Brinker adds, it's not like the president isn't going to veto the bill anyway: "Then we'll get precisely what we always wanted anyway, won't we?"
Back inside the yard, Avocado's pitching sweet woo at Tweener: "You probably don't have a hair on your body, do you?" Bellick calls for Tweener and says, "Looks like Avocado's taken a shine to you. I can set you up as cellies, if you want." Tweener finally passes on some useful information: "Scofield and his boys are up to something. Whatever it is, it's got something to do with that room they're fixing. Something to do with the carpet."
Bellick takes off and begins tearing through the room. He upends a table, whips up the rugs…and sees nothing wrong with the floor. That is most miraculous hasty-repair job ever!
Were Sucre able to see it -- and he can't, as he's rotting in solitary -- no doubt he'd be relieved. Lincoln, meanwhile, is beside himself with worry for Michael. At this point, Dr. Sara's dragged Pope down here to make the case that the boy needs out of solitary. Lincoln begins screaming for his brother, and rather than say something that'll actually calm Lincoln down -- if not shut him up -- some CO merely slams the little window on Lincoln's door closed. We then go to a shot of Michael's face; he's Blue Steeling at nothing in particular. Perhaps his face has finally rusted that way.