Well, I'm taking recapping to a whole new place here. I'm writing this while waiting to see if the stomach cramps I'm experiencing turn out to be appendicitis. To give you an idea of how much it hurts, it's as though my hatred of McManus has manifested itself as physical pain. On the other hand, it's likely to make me more sympathetic to the pain the characters on this show endure regularly. Anyway, it should be an adventure. I just hope McManus isn't too odious -- the stomach-churning he regularly evokes could cause a rupture. Oh, who am I kidding? I'll be in the hospital by the twenty-minute mark.
By the way, I am not making this up.
The first thing we see on the screen is a blue projection of the word "fuck." I guess that answers the question of whether the number of utterances of the word "fuck" was going to diminish after Ortolani's death. Hill's "point" is that "fuck" and "rape" are four-letter words, but so are "wife" and "love." If in my lifetime I hear one more person smugly claim that "love" is a four-letter word, I'm going to throw my appendix at him. If I still have it, of course. Hill goes on that love is a curse, not just romantic love, but also the kind with friends and family. We get a shot of Schibetta slowly walking to the morgue. An attendant unzips a body bag, and we get a full-on shot of the once-hot-but-now-crispy Ortolani. Schibetta slowly nods. I don't get it. Is he identifying the body? Because that seems tough in this case. Maybe he sees a tiny bit of vermicelli stuck in Ortolani's teeth. We flash back to Post dropping the match, and then cut to Glynn asking "what the fuck happened" to Ortolani. I'm going to keep a count and see if the number of times a character uses the word "fuck" in this episode exceeds the number of times I wince in pain and utter the same. Because if it does, this show is pretty fucking profane. Burruano suggests that it was the Latinos, but Healy opines that everyone had a reason to hate Ortolani. McManus agrees, and points out that the hacks did as well, especially since, obviously, one of them had to have done the deed himself or let the murderer into the hole. Healy: "Fuck you, McManus." McManus: "Yeah, fuck me."
Couch Baron's Appendix: Wow, with all this profanity, I guess I'd better flare up to give you a chance in the "fuck" race, huh?
Couch Baron: You do and I'll fucking rip you out myself, you fucking useless organ.
Couch Baron's Appendix: I'm really fucking scared. Try some of this.
Couch Baron: FUCK!
Sorry. Glynn calms them down, saying the enemy's outside the room, and orders Burruano to head up the investigation, saying he'd better find the killer before Schibetta does. As we'll see later, Glynn hasn't a clue where Burruano's loyalties are. Glynn worries that they'll have a "full-scale riot" on their hands. Not until the season finale. Spoiler!
Burruano's office. There's a huge American flag on the wall, in front of which all the prisoners questioned end up standing. It's amusing, but particularly so in the case of Schillinger, our first interviewee. He says that the "niggers" killed Ortolani, because although he doesn't have any evidence, "Who else is there?" Again, the hacks, but we've covered that already. Burruano asks about the Latinos, but Schillinger opines, "Burning isn't the spics' style." Burruano says that Schillinger could have done it, and Schillinger agrees that there was no love lost between him and Ortolani, but, assuming his most patriotic stance, declares that he only kills people when they're standing in the way of his constitutional rights. And how about when you rape them, Vern? Do you sing "America The Beautiful" over the screams? Schillinger's point is that he respects the Sicilians, as they also have a code. "The rest of these fucks'll cut a man for a pair of sneakers, for a fucking cigarette. They are animals." Guess you're into bestiality then, huh Vern?
We see the hacks break up a fight between Markstram and D'Angelo, although if the writers were trying to illustrate Schillinger's point, I don't know why they involved one of the Italians. Upstairs, Diane approaches Beecher's pod as Schillinger watches behind her. She asks a loitering Rebadow if it's true that Beecher hasn't emerged from his pod in days, and gets confirmation of that. I thought you always had to come out for count, but whatever. Diane enters, and Schillinger's right behind her, asking if everything's okay. She coolly tells him to take a hike, and he complies with a "Hope you feel better, buddy. If you keep quiet, I might even use a little Vaseline time." I may have imagined that last part. Quick flashback to Schillinger branding Beecher. Diane starts to tell him how rough an adjustment prison is for anyone, but Beecher interrupts to moan about Ortolani's death and how it proves that no one is safe. Diane agrees, saying Beecher has to be careful, but he might feel better if he set up a conjugal visit with his wife. How? "Go see Sister Pete."
Cut to the sister in question's office. She happily notes that Beecher's married, and suggests that if you're not, you're out of luck as far as the sex goes. Has she met Adebisi? She gives a bit more tough-nun exposition, then explains that the point of a conjugal isn't just sex, but to reproduce some intimacy. I can see where that would be desirable -- Schillinger doesn't seem like much of a cuddler. Pete gives Beecher a form to fill out.
Beecher returns to his pod to find Schillinger lying on the top bunk. We asks, "Where you been, sweet pea?" Hee. Maybe Vern has a tender side after all. Upon hearing that Beecher went to see Sister Pete, Schillinger asks why, and upon hearing the reason, grins that Beecher didn't ask his permission. "When are you gonna learn, prag? You belong to me." He tells Beecher to stand up and ask him if he can fuck his wife. After a little back-and-forth, Schillinger has Beecher screaming, "PLEASE SIR MAY I FUCK MY WIFE?" Hee. Now do "go down on." No, but Schillinger's just as funny as he smiles, "When you ask me like that, I can't deny you anything."
Cut to Genevieve entering the prison. She's got Jackie O hair and looks about as uncomfortable and out-of-place as Penelope did at the police station in Trading Places. It's the old-fashioned picnic basket that really sells the look, though. The hack on duty asks her if she's transporting any contraband, and she says no and asks, "If I was carrying explosives, why would I say yes?" The response: "Lady, I don't know. The state says I have to ask, I ask." Get this guy an airport security job, posthaste! He tells her to put her purse in one of the lockers, and then to go to Room One. At least he didn't tell her to go to Room 101.
Genevieve enters to find Beecher waiting, holding a sadly wilted bunch of flowers. Aw. Beecher's patheticness at the beginning of the series is tough to watch. They kiss awkwardly, and then Genevieve starts babbling about a painting Holly made for him of their house and family. "You're not in it. You're not in the painting." If I were Beecher, the intimacy train would have been derailed right about here. He's unfazed, however. She says she'll cook for him, but he asks if she'll just hold him. Aw. Poor Beecher.
Later, the desk hack knocks on the conjugal room doors, telling Beecher and the random prisoner in the other one to move it. They emerge and go to be strip-searched. They assume a position with which I suspect Beecher has become quite familiar lately, but it's the random guy up whose ass they find some drugs. The desk hack gets a call, and detains Random Prisoner's ostensible wife. Genevieve bails faster than a virgin from a prison rodeo.
Back in the Prag Pod, Schillinger, reading a book, asks how it was. Try as I might, I can't make out the book title, but it's probably safe to assume that it's something along the lines of The Whiter The Better: Racism And You. Beecher manages that it was "good," which I doubt, and Schillinger gets annoyed. He then picks up a stack of photographs, expositing that he found them under Beecher's mattress, and says that Beecher has a lovely family. "I'm amazed you haven't shown me these pictures before. Amazed, and a little hurt." Hee. Beecher looks like he's waiting for an appendectomy. And that, I can tell you, is not a happy face. Schillinger continues that his own wife is dead, but he has two sons, who will do anything he tells them to. That's not all that true, but Beecher doesn't know that. In the same conversational tone, Schillinger suggests that he send his sons to visit Beecher's family. "My sons and your wife. My sons and your daughter." Ew. He passes over the photographs, and Beecher, with a look of such emotional pain that I feel bad for ever having made fun of him, tears them up. Great scene.
Hill talks about prags, and that when you make someone your prag, it holds for life, which is complete bullshit, both in real life and on this show. Whatever, Hill.
Back to Burruano's office. He's got Groves in front of the flag now. It would be cool if Groves made an overblown speech about how he only kills people who taste good with butter and thyme. He can have principles too, can't he? Burruano muses that Groves ate his parents, but Groves corrects him that he only ate his mother. "I was saving my dad for Thanksgiving." I can just picture him lifting the cover off a platter and asking the head, "Dad, would you like to say grace?" Burruano's reply: "That's festive." Hee. He asks Groves about Ortolani's murder, as apparently Groves was in the hole for sneaking into the morgue. I hope he wasn't looking for dessert. Eating long-dead people is probably taboo even among cannibals. They'll look at you like normal people would look at a necrophiliac. Anyway, Groves was in the cell to Ortolani's, but he says that Ortolani didn't scream, which he calls "balls." Aw, is someone hungry? He goes on that he saw Ortolani's corpse carried out, and that he looked like a roasted, broiled chicken. "His flesh was all brown and crispy. He looked good enough to eat." Yeah, I think I've used up all my cannibalism jokes for one recap, thanks.
We get our first shot of the Pernicious Peewee, Governor Devlin. Thankfully, he's on the Oz television, which means we, the audience, can't hear him. A lot of people are taking an interest, and since there are no breasts involved, you can infer that Devlin's got something prison-related to announce. Adebisi asks what he's saying, and Markstram informs him of Devlin's opinion that taxpayers shouldn't have to pay for prisoner perks. Adebisi puts some headphones on, and we suddenly can hear Devlin. I hope we're not going to see everything on the show from Adebisi's viewpoint. The sight of Peter Schibetta's prone ass sliding back and forth in front of me might be a little tough to take. Anyway, Devlin, in a shocking move given the episode title, announces that he's proposing the elimination of conjugal visits for prisoners and their wives. Everyone's outraged, no one more so than Adebisi. Dude, is Adebisi married? That's a prospect that's too scary to contemplate. Any woman who could keep him in line is not someone I'd want to meet even in the most brightly lit alley. Although a henpecked Adebisi has unlimited comic potential.
Anyway, cut to a big line in front of Sister Pete's office. She hands out forms to everyone, and tells them that she wants all the pencils back. Good luck with that, Sister. You can't even get all the pencils back from second graders. We focus on Hill, which means it's his turn in the spotlight flashback. And the spotlight is apparently very blue, in more than one way, as Hill, bathed in blue light from outside, is thrusting and moaning away in some apartment at night. We don't get much of a look at the girl, but I assume it's his wife, so that will be attended to later in the episode. Hill holds the headboard, and rhythmically bangs it into the wall. In time with that rhythm, we see someone using a nightstick to bang on what I assume is the door to the apartment.
Eventually the door breaks down, which makes me wonder if "the door breaking down" is a euphemism somewhere for having an orgasm. It wouldn't surprise me on this show. Anyway, in slo-mo, Hill tosses his wife aside (so that's how it is), grabs a gun, fires a shot at the approaching cops, and hops out the window. He's wearing socks and nothing else, which inappropriately cracks me up. He climbs a ladder from one plateau of the roof to another, then climbs back down the other side. We get our second dick shot of the series, and apparently there's nothing like a bust to get the blood rushing back to your brain. It's worse than hearing, "Is it in?" A cop appears at the top of the ladder and tells Hill to freeze. Hill shoots him. I have to believe Hill was on something here. In a nice touch, the cop's Mag-Lite falls to the ground to Hill. However, another cop quickly apprehends him and cuffs his hands behind his back. Upon hearing that the cop that Hill shot is dead, the arresting officer loses it and, in a shot far more disturbing than I can describe, tosses Hill off the roof. As we see a shot of Hill twitching (only from the waist up; thank you for the attention to detail), narrator Hill intones, "Prisoner Number 95H522. Augustus Hill." Murder two, life, parole in twenty years.
Cut to Hill and Adebisi filling out the conjugal forms. They have a winning, though not the easiest to recap, exchange about what Hill can and can't do in the bedroom. He can get hard and reach orgasm, but he doesn't feel sensation from those occurrences, and needs his wife to tell him when they happen. A number of jokes spring to mind, but given what we just witnessed the character go through, I'm going to take a pass. Adebisi is impressed, and Hill explains that some people in wheelchairs aren't as, er, proficient, needing pumps, drugs, or implants to get it up. Yes, I just crossed my legs uncomfortably. When Adebisi learns that Hill doesn't know when he's hard, he's stunned, perhaps because he's contemplating certain naughty possibilities. He wonders, if Hill isn't getting any pleasure, "What the fuck are you doing it for?" Hill provides the simple answer: "For her."
Narrator Hill tells us that you can't take a man's feelings away. I suppose that's one of the points of the whole series, but still, shut up, Narrator Hill.
Cut to Hill's conjugal visit. His wife helps him out of his clothes, and then removes her bra, revealing ample, if somewhat artificial, boobs. (I'm not averse to using the word "tits," but I don't want to mislead you, given their other meaning in Oz.) Hill VOs about how cruel it is to know that this will be the last time he'll be with his wife, and considering how he's already had to go through a similar thought process with respect to his paraplegia, that really, really sucks.
Burruano's office. His victim is Keane. Burruano exposits that Ortolani used to supervise Keane in the kitchen. Keane says they never had any run-ins, but Burruano brings up Ortolani's battery of Keane Light, and tries to build a rapport by saying that Ortolani was a scumbag. Keane sits silently. Burruano changes tacks, asking if Keane is married, to which the answer is no, but he does have a girlfriend. Burruano: "Does she know you're a lying sack of shit? If I find out you had anything to do with this, I'm gonna bury you so deep in Gen Pop she'll never see your black ass again." Dude, just give the Pernicious Peewee a little time -- he'll do you one better.
Kitchen. Post asks what he should say to Burruano, to which the answer is, predictably, nothing. D'Angelo enters and tells them that he's running the kitchen now, and until they discover Ortolani's killer, they're not moving any more contraband. After D'Angelo leaves, Post mouths off that he'll kill him , but Keane tells him to shut up, and walks off. I need Keane to come with me to the airport the time someone tries to get me to sign up for a credit card.
Cut to a closeup of Said, leading the Muslims in prayer. Keane sits on the stairs and looks out the (heavily barred) window. Adebisi appears and says the cops want to see him about Ortolani, but Keane, never taking his eyes from the window, hushes him, as he's getting a visit from his girlfriend, Mavis. We see the credits shot of the girl holding open a white jacket to reveal that she's wearing nothing else. I can just hear the discussion in the writing room: "What name would be most ironic for a girl who parades naked in front of a prison? Ethel? Frieda? I've got it! Mavis!" Adebisi is impressed, and Mavis walks away waving, but not before flashing her ass. Luckily there are bars between her and Adebisi. We focus on Keane, and we go to our prisoner history flashback. A young black couple emerges from a church, having just gotten married. The receiving guests part to reveal Keane and two cronies. Keane, in half-speed, raises a gun and shoots the groom dead, then does the same to the bride. As the screams fade, he walks off and drops the gun, looking back with no particular remorse. Back to the stairs. "Prisoner Number 97K186. Jefferson Keane." Murder one, life with no parole.
Keane sits down in McManus's office and says he wants to marry Mavis. After a couple of questions, McManus loftily stands up and says he'll make the arrangements. Cut to Glynn: "No. Absolutely not." The pleasure from this moment wraps itself around my aching appendix like a blanket. McManus asks why. "This is a prison, McManus, not the Elvis Chapel." Hee. McManus lamely offers that a wedding might reduce some of the tension around Oz, but Glynn counters that it might also be perceived as a reward for Keane, who doesn't deserve it. He goes on that Keane's crime proves that he has no respect for the institution of marriage, and furthermore, marrying two people who can't be together makes a mockery of the institution. There's more stuff that could, by extension, be interpreted as a slam on gay marriage, but Glynn's on my good side right now, so I'm going to cut him a little slack. McManus tries to pull that I-run-Em-City crap, but Glynn has the trump card: "The lobby is under my jurisdiction. And you try bringing that bride-to-be through the front door." Sell bleeding heart somewhere else, Timmy -- Glynn ain't buyin'.
A shirtless Keane bench-presses as he tells Markstram that the cops don't know anything. Markstram, with Adebisi present, complains that the Wise Guys have shut down all illegal activity. McManus interrupts to give Keane the bad news, and Keane gets in his face. "A man that can't keep his word ain't shit with me." Really? McManus is shit with me no matter what he does.
Balcony. Said tells Keane how happy he is that he's come to him, but his desire to marry Mavis can't come out of ego, jealousy, or fear. Keane satisfies him as to those points, and Said asks how he knows Mavis loves him. Obviously, Said was not looking out the window earlier. Keane struggles to explain, and notes that that's exactly why he needs Said, since he's so much better with words. After a bit more back-and-forth, Said says Keane has to trust in the will of Allah. Keane: "Yo, my girl is pregnant. I screwed her. Now Allah's screwin' me." Keane gets the best lines, yo.
Said has a conference with Glynn on the stairs. We don't get to hear it. This is the HBO equivalent of a commercial, so I'm going to enjoy it.
In his office, Glynn tells McManus that he'll allow Keane to get married at Said's request. McManus predictably gets all bothered (I don't even want to think about him being hot). He accuses Glynn of blowing him off "in a cloud of platitudes." Dude, weren't you applying the Golden Rule to Em City in the last episode? SHUT UP! He whines on that this damages his credibility with the inmates. I'd make the obvious joke, but I don't want to step on Glynn's upcoming line. Glynn informs him that Said is going to help contain the drug and Ortolani situations. McManus sniffs. Glynn asks why he didn't tell him that Keane's girlfriend is pregnant, and McManus says he didn't know. Glynn: "So much for your credibility." Not only is Glynn insulting McManus at every turn, he's also enjoying it. It's the sort of thing that just warms my appendix.
Keane angrily says that "this is some bullshit." He's talking to Mukada. Yay, Mukada! He's one of those characters that you totally expect to hate when you first see him, so it's a really pleasant surprise when you don't. I think I really like him because he consistently avoids scenery-chewing and also isn't sanctimonious. Luke Perry, are your ears burning? ["All of him is burning, dude." -- Sars] Anyway, I'll have plenty of time to explore Mukada's character down the road. Mukada tells Keane that Glynn was very specific about how the wedding would work. Keane will be at the prison, exchanging vows with a proxy, while Mavis will do the same at a local church. Was there any question that the proxy would be Adebisi? Not that I'm complaining -- in fact, I would have complained had it been anyone else. Keane: "Father, don't this seem fucked up to you?" I just put that in to remind myself about the "fuck" count. And in case you're interested, although the pain has been positively excruciating at times, the show is still totally kicking my ass.
Hill sings a verse of what I think is "I Can't See Me Lovin' Nobody But You." Mukada asks Keane if he does, and he says yes. Right before Hill gets to what would be the chorus, they cut to an annoyed-looking Adebisi saying that he does as well while Post, ostensibly a witness, snickers. Hee. What was that you were saying earlier about marriage, Glynn? Markstram asks about the kiss, and Adebisi plants one on Keane's cheek. He playfully says to Keane, "Kiss my ass." And here I was hoping no one would insist on consummating this.
Markstram brings Keane a letter from Mavis. It contains a photograph of her in her wedding attire that's very conservative, both in the style of dress and in the fact that she's not flashing her boobs. There's actually a very touching message written on the card, and Keane proudly goes over to show Said, who smiles and gives his usual blessing. Keane repeats it back to him, and that's about all the foreshadowing my appendix can handle.
Now it's time for the people who haven't committed horrible crimes against humanity to get some screen time. For some unknown reason, McManus is included. This segment features several cuts between a conversation between Glynn and McManus, and one between Diane and Burruano. It's pretty boring overall, so here's the gist: Glynn invites McManus to his house for dinner (why, Leo, why?) but McManus says he has a date (with a bottle of Astroglide). Glynn makes an unflattering comment about McManus's ex-wife (don't knock her till you try her, Leo) and then actually makes a comparison between McManus and Jesus. Well, at least it's not the appendicitis that's nauseating me now. Glynn elicits a promise that Timbo will join him the night. Diane tells Burruano that she's been working double shifts, even though she lives two hours away, because she needs the money. Burruano suggests she move closer to the prison, like, I'm sure that never occurred to her, but she says she can't afford to. Diane exposits how miserable her home life is, and if this whole exercise is to set me up for Diane and McManus's future sex scene, thanks, but that's like tiptoeing into forty-degree water. It's going to be painful no matter what. Glynn leaves, and McManus chomps on some Wise potato chips. Sorry, Timmy, but that's just a brand name, no matter how much you could use the smarts.
I'd now like to interject that I just came back from the doctor, and he's convinced that I don't have appendicitis. Rather, I have a viral infection that's causing an inflammation of my abdominal glands. So, I'm still feeling like I've been kicked in the stomach by a pack of mules, but I don't need surgery. Hooray!
Couch Baron's Abdominal Glands: Hee hee! We had him thinking he had appendicitis!
Couch Baron's Appendix: I know. What a maroon! Although I'm tempted to rupture myself now, just for the irony.
Couch Baron: Fuck all of you, you fucking fucks.
Fucking insides. I'd stab myself repeatedly, if it wouldn't, you know, kill me. I'm making progress on the "fuck" count, though. On top of everything, I have to endure Hill telling me that God's greatest creation is pussy. Hill, you don't know dick. Anyway, perhaps at long last to make up for the amount of pain I've endured so far today, I finally get to recap Alvarez. Yay! Ryan may be my favorite character, but Alvarez is a close second. If those two ever got together onscreen, I think my brain would have completely short-circuited. Whoa. Our boy is looking out the hospital wing window. He flashes back to The Quickest Shanking In History, then hears his name called. It's Mukada, who introduces himself. Mukada exposits that Alvarez's girlfriend is at Parker Women's Prison, and she's about to have his baby. I wince at knowing how this plotline ends, but I've had enough pain for one day, so I'm not going to think about it. Mukada says he can arrange for Alvarez to be there for the birth, but Alvarez turns him down. Mukada says he'll probably be paroled in two years, not yet realizing what a good little actor Kirk Acevedo is, and that he'll want to be a father to his child. Alvarez points out a man working in the hospital wing and says it's his father, and adds that his grandfather is also in Oz. Mukada's all, boo hoo, but you still created the new life, and I'm going to make sure you take responsibility for it. Go, Father Ray.
Glynn's office. He tells Mukada that he's just signed the papers transferring Alvarez to Em City, like, didn't McManus request him in the first episode? Mukada sighs that Alvarez is a classic example of the failure of the prison system, and, after giving us a quick recap of everything we already know about Alvarez, suggests he talk to his kin in Oz. Glynn says that the grandfather, Ricardo, is in solitary, and it'll be tough to converse with the father, Eduardo. Mukada asks if he's belligerent. Glynn: "He has no tongue." Ladies and gentlemen, Leo Glynn! He'll be here all series! Er, almost.
Solitary. Mukada is led in to see Ricardo Alvarez. Mukada gives him some backstory, much of which Ricardo already knows, and asks him to help convince Miguel to be part of his child's life. Ricardo counters that he's never even seen Miguel. Mukada tries that "let's break the cycle of bad dads" argument. Ricardo tells us he was eighteen when he was convicted, and Eduardo was a baby. time he saw him, Eduardo was eighteen, and in Oz. He continues that Eduardo was a hothead, and made a lot of enemies, including a Haitian. "One night, when Eduardo was sleeping, the Haitian cut his tongue out." Mukada says he read the report: "So you found the Haitian, and you cut his heart out." Sounds like a Grimm's Fairy Tale. Mukada asks if the point is that Ricardo was being a good father, and Ricardo nods. Unfazed, Mukada points out that Ricardo won't be able to help Miguel in the same way, and pleads with him just to talk to Miguel. Another thing I like about Mukada: He's not easily rattled.
Cut to Ricardo, looking into a room where Miguel is waiting and doing his best impression of a hyperactive teenager. Ricardo, with a gesture, asks if that's Miguel, and gets confirmation of that. A couple hacks let him in. Miguel is all, "What the fuck?" Ricardo tells him to come to him, and when Miguel doesn't snap to, repeats the command about twenty times louder. Miguel's sardonic smile fades faster than Kelly Clarkson's [deleted], and he complies. Ricardo slaps him, and then grabs his face and shoulders and asks if Miguel knows who he is. Miguel haltingly says yes, and Ricardo embraces him. God, sometimes Alvarez is like this big adorable puppy dog that I just want to take home. Of course, he's not so puppy-doglike at other times, but I still want to take him home for other reasons.
Hill. The speech contains "sex," "jizz," and "egg."
Cut to Alvarez, smoking and picking up a plastic baby in the nursery. The look of uncertainty as he picks up and holds the doll is just absolutely priceless.
Aaand we're done with Alvarez. Damn. Instead, we get Rebadow, which is sort of like taking away filet mignon and serving Spam in its place. Old, dried-up Spam. Rebadow says that Ortolani committed suicide. Burruano looks bored, as well he should, and points out that that's physically impossible. Rebadow says that God told him, and that He appears to him as a strobe light. No, really. He goes on that Ortolani, unconsciously or not, set up circumstances that led to his death. Burruano asks if God told him who killed him. The answer is no, "but He told me to tell you to tell Nino Schibetta not to seek revenge." Burruano asks why he doesn't tell Schibetta himself. "Just 'cause I talk to God doesn't mean I'm crazy." Well, it doesn't mean you're not, either.
Couch Baron's Appendix: Who's the old guy?
Couch Baron: That's Rebadow. He talks to God.
Couch Baron's Appendix: Man, is he useless.
Couch Baron: Well, you'd know, wouldn't you?
Couch Baron's Appendix: Fuck you.
Cut to Nino, visiting with son Peter. Peter tells him that his mother hasn't got long to live. Nino tells him to get a Jewish doctor. Peter starts crying, possibly because he just realized that his hair is just a blow-dry away from belonging in a Monkees cover band, but Nino chides him not to. Peter says that Ortolani's funeral is the day, and Nino asks how his parents are taking it. Peter asks how he thinks they're taking it. Nino: "Paolo is philosophical and Maria wants revenge." Peter is forced to acknowledge that his snitty rhetorical question has been steamrolled. Nino: "Tell her she's got it."
And in the "Things I Didn't Need To See" category, Nino gets strip-searched. If they do that to Rebadow, I'm outta here. Schibetta looks at the camera, cueing another "What Are You In For?" flashback. He and his wife, laughing, come out of a restaurant, where he's immediately arrested and shoved into a police car. His wife wails his name, although we don't hear her over the dramatic music. "Prisoner Number 95S604. Nino Schibetta." Convicted of conspiracy to commit murder, sentence 120 years, parole in 70. Or, in layman's terms, never. Cut to McManus's office, where Timbo is telling Schibetta that he'll arrange for him to visit his wife in the hospital. Schibetta smells a rat, which shouldn't be too difficult in this particular office, and asks McManus what the catch is. McManus asks Schibetta to be patient with the Ortolani investigation. Schibetta admits that he would like to see his wife. McManus: "Then we have a deal." Schibetta: "No." Tom, I know I have and will say mean things about you, but this episode just makes me want to buy you a beer.
Ryan gets escorted into Em City from Gen Pop, flanked by Schillinger. In his pod, Ryan tells Schillinger that he doesn't need a sponsor, thanks. Schillinger introduces himself as the head of the Aryan Brotherhood, and notes that Ryan must have powerful friends to have arranged a transfer into Em City. He offers his hand to Ryan, saying that he's got another friend, and starts to leave. Ryan calls him back to ask who occupied the pod before him. The answer is Ortolani. That might have been more dramatic if I had no memory for a floor plan. Anyway, Ryan takes off his shirt. Mmm, shirtless Ryan. He flashes back to when Ortolani shot him, then traces his fingers along a large scar on his stomach. He leans in the doorway of his pod and surveys the scene. Keane walks by and gives him a look, and then D'Angelo comes up, saying that "Mr. Schibetta" requests his presence. D'Angelo shepherds Ryan into Schibetta's pod. The capo, peeling an orange, invites Ryan to sit. Schibetta Godfathers that Ortolani's death has upset him, and he wants to find the killer. Ryan asks if D'Angelo has to be there, and Schibetta dismisses him. Ryan says he didn't do it, and Schibetta counters that he's not accusing, but extending his hand. Watch it, Nino -- Ryan will shake it with one hand and drive a knife into your heart with the other. And I love him for it. In fact, I think I've got a nickname for him -- Mickey O'Velli. Let's see -- is it clever? Yup. Is it likely to get me hate mail? Oh, yeah. I think I've got a winner here. Only problem is, it's a bitch to type. Oh, well. Schibetta goes on that if Ryan helps find Ortolani's murderer, he'll show his appreciation and forgiveness. Guess Schillinger's not the only one to figure out that Ryan's connected. Ryan says that he's not unhappy about Ortolani being the special at Texas BBQ, but he'd like Schibetta's friendship, so if he hears anything, Schibetta will be the first to know. Schibetta: "That's all I ask." After Ryan leaves, Schibetta tells D'Angelo, "He knows."
Ryan meets with Keane, and suggests they give Post up to get Schibetta off their tails. Keane don't play that, and says to chill. Ryan leaves, and the Sicilians note the meeting. Schibetta says it could mean nothing, but that they should have Burruano haul Ryan in for "a little fishing trip."
Cut to Burruano's office, where Ryan is informing him that the St. Pauli Girl is a hooker. Burruano chuckles, probably envisioning the look that'll be on Ryan's face in a couple of minutes. He tells Ryan that Keane & Co. killed Ortolani, but someone had to have arranged for one of them to get into the hole, someone connected. Ryan suggests Keane & Co. paid a hack, but Burruano demurs. "An inmate arranged it all. And now I know who that inmate is." Ryan doesn't flinch as Burruano says that it was him, but there's more. "Eventually, I'm gonna get the little fuck who killed Ortolani, and he's gonna start singing. And the only name that fucking nigger is gonna rap is the skinny-assed white boy's." Hey, I like his skinny ass! Burruano smiles that Ryan should either give up the killer or shut him up. Nice job getting an impartial investigator, Glynn. Does any staff member ever have a good idea in this place?
Cut to Schibetta's pod, where Ryan busts in and announces that he knows who killed Ortolani. Schibetta beckons him in. Later, Rebadow plays solitaire. Groves leans in like he's going to take a bite out of his ear, but merely offers some card-playing advice. Not sure what the point of that was, but I like Groves, so I'm not complaining. Back in Schibetta's pod, McManus has just broken the news that Schibetta's wife has passed. Schibetta takes it stoically, saying she'd been sick for a year. McManus asks if there's anything he can do. Yeah -- SHUT UP AND LEAVE THE GRIEVING MAN ALONE. Behind McManus, D'Angelo beckons to Schibetta, and Schibetta tells McManus he'd like to be alone, like, tough fucking concept, Timbo. When he's gone, D'Angelo enters and offers his condolences. Schibetta tells him what a good and patient woman his wife was, and that he's not the easiest man to live with. D'Angelo: "Believe me, I know." Hee. Schibetta turns to look at him, and he gives a "hey, just telling it like it is" shrug. Hilarious non-verbal exchange. The conversation continues in the stairwell, where Schibetta details the funeral arrangements he wants, including getting an actor whose name he can't remember to be a pallbearer. "He was in that movie where the thing blew up." D'Angelo: "Oh yeah, I know who you mean. Tall guy." Schibetta: "Yeah, and Lena Horne." D'Angelo: "As a pallbearer?" Schibetta: "To sing a hymn." Hee. I love that exchange. It's partly because you could substitute "Lena Horne" for the punchline of any joke, and it would still be funny. When they get to the bottom of the stairs, Schibetta starts crying, which, given the scene with his son, nicely illustrates how close he is to D'Angelo. Once he's composed himself, they go through a door, where Post is tied to a chair and gagged with duct tape, guarded by two big toughs. Schibetta Godfathers that he's only going to ask once: Who hired him for the Ortolani hit? He rips off the duct tape, which would really hurt, considering that Post has a goatee. Post: "Fuck you, you fuckin' dago! Before I did it, I fucked him up the ass." I'm guessing that's the wrong answer. Schibetta, to his lackeys: "Kill him. Start with his dick." Post looks around even more psychotically than usual, and manages to get in one more "dago" and three more variants of the word "fuck" before we cut away. My stomach's feeling a little better, but even if it weren't, I still would have gotten shellacked in the "fuck" competition.
Hill compares sex and death. Yeah, that's never been done before.
On the Oz TV, the inmates learn of Post's fate. Keane looks over at Ryan. They also find out that the bill banning conjugal visits has been passed into law. We fade out on Keane looking pensive. Do you think he'll be important in the upcoming episodes?
Couch Baron's Appendix: Boy, you think you know everything, don't you?
Couch Baron's Abdominal Glands: Yeah, so fucking smart.
Couch Baron: Fuck you and fuck you and fuck you. Fuck all of you, you fucking fucks.
I still lost. By a lot.