Capital P

Think happy thoughts. Think happy thoughts.

That is so not going to work.

We see a flashback of Keane's showdown in the gym as Hill tells us that we have certain inalienable rights. He goes on that the state, however, can take all our rights away by killing us, as we get a montage of more shots of the aforementioned scene and ones of Keane at his new trial. Hill tells us that the Pernicious Peewee has brought back capital punishment in the state, and that he's decided that Keane, a person he's never met, should die. Cut to the PP in a press conference, saying that the mood of the country has changed, and that people need a sign that something is being done about crime. A reporter asks if he thinks so in spite of the fact that, as has been amply shown, capital punishment has "no effect" on crime. The PP: "Especially if it has no effect. These days murders are random, senseless. Maybe the punishment should be too." Wow. It's a good thing you're so teeny, Pernicious Peewee, because no one else could get away with standing on a platform that shaky. To his credit, Glynn, standing to him, looks like he doesn't even know where to start with that statement. The PP goes on that Jefferson Keane will be the first person executed by their state in thirty-four years. "He's the first because he deserves to die."

The Ironic Segue Fairy, who got held up through the first few episodes by a strip-search gone horribly awry, finally appears as Sister Pete bites out, "Jefferson Keane is the first because he's black and he's young. The public is not gonna feel safe if we execute a seventy-year-old white guy." Really? That Rebadow looks awfully shifty to me. See how I cleverly got a Rebadow execution reference in there? See? See? You guys never see. Glynn asks if she's going to turn this into a racial thing with him. Rather than get into the obvious socioeconomic discussion, Pete simply responds, "Oh, please." Diane asks about all the protesters Keane's execution will inevitably draw. Glynn says they won't be a problem, but Pete informs him that she'll be standing with them. This provokes a tte--tte until Glynn lets her know that if she goes through with joining the protesters, she'll be singing "I Like To Be In America" on a street corner, or doing some other activity that is not her current job. Everyone flinches, and Pete, after a pause, dramatically walks out of the room, but not before telling them there's no need to wait for any kind of resolution, as they won't be seeing her sassy ecclesiastical ass again. No wonder they call her Pete -- she's got balls.

On the main drag, we get a montage of different conversations, the topic of all of which is Keane's impending execution. Schillinger says he'd choose to be hanged were he in that situation, as Groves wonders how they know that lethal injection causes no pain to the victim. Rebadow comes scampering into Beecher's pod with the news about Sister Pete, which Beecher already knows thanks to his position as her assistant. He says he's against the death penalty, and Rebadow gets a small wry smile as he says, "Me too." Me three -- without it, we would have been spared all your boring blather about talking to God. Beecher asks who the last person executed in the state was, and Rebadow reveals that it was he. If only, Bob, if only. We get a black-and-white flashback, complete with "Jailhouse Rock," of a young Rebadow -- looking like a shorter, younger Richard Moll -- strapped into an electric chair. A blonde bombshell winks cheerily at him, and then the hacks fasten the mask around his face. Someone gives the nod, the switch is pulled, and Rebadow starts to do the seated version of the Spandau Ballet. However, the lights start to flicker, and the execution is aborted. Back in the present, Rebadow says that the '65 blackout killed power in five states, and he's not sure if he caused it or was merely saved by it. He goes on that that's when he first met God, like, WE KNOW, and says that God told him to play the oboe, but he doesn't have the lips for it. I'd make a Patti Lupone joke here, but that would just be painful for all involved, and this episode is going to be tough enough as it is.

Ryan's looking into a Viewfinder. Beecher pops into the picture. How'd that get in there? Ryan's smoking a joint, and Beecher takes a puff as Ryan says that he thought Schillinger had forbidden Beecher to get high any more. Beecher: "Yeah. Fuck him!" I think he just can't resist your wily charms, Ryan. Ryan asks about his appeal, but Beecher tells him his meager skills are no match for all the eyewitnesses they have lined up against him. Ryan sighs that at least he's not on death row like Keane, and opines that Keane should have just let the Latinos kill him. The Lord Of The Dance just caught his toe shoe on a nail! Beecher tries to get more information, and says that Keane shouldn't be executed if he was indeed set up. Ryan grabs Beecher's face and yells, "Fuck that! Don't make trouble or you'll be !" He storms out. So, no sex, then?

In the library, Beecher asks for a faxed copy of the transcript from the Keane trial. Soon after, he's coming up the steps reading the transcript when Schillinger yells to him. He stuffs the papers down the back of his pants and hurries in. Schillinger: "That laundry's not gonna wash itself." Aw, that sounds just like something Jonathan Kent would say! Which makes me very, very scared about what Jonathan might be doing to those cows at night. Schillinger did call Beecher his livestock, after all. Beecher asks Schillinger if he's heard anything about Keane being set up, and Schillinger jauntily tells him that the hacks made him a gladiator, and I pray that Beecher KEEPS HIS FAT FOOL MOUTH SHUT HERE FOR ONCE. Schillinger goes on that they've even got it on videotape, and Beecher excitedly says he'd love to see that, as it could stop Keane's execution. Schillinger, with his feet resting in Beecher's lap, mildly says he wouldn't want to do that, and Beecher must have given him a really good blowjob recently, because he sends him off to the laundry room without further ado. There, Beecher's telling Rebadow that he's going to go to McManus. Rebadow suggests he might not want to do that, as they'll kill him. Beecher: "'They' who?" Rebadow: "Exactly." Listen to Old Man Moll, Beecher. Ryan appears, and apologizes for getting testy earlier. He slips an arm around Beecher and asks him if he wants to get high, and I think an effective counter to the Say No To Drugs slogan would be a poster of Dean Winters holding a baggie filled with white powder, with the tagline, "Say yes to Ryan." They'd have to legalize through sheer force of demand in that case. Amazingly, Beecher turns him down, saying he's trying to keep his head clear. Ryan leaves. Beecher says that he should represent Keane and appeal his conviction, and if he did that, I think we'd have Murder On The Orient Express right here in Oz, as just about everybody would try to kill him. I'd bet the corpse would be in a lot worse shape in this version, though. Rebadow suggests he talk to Keane, but Beecher points out the difficulty of getting into death row. Groves, who's been on the scene for a while: "I have a way." It doesn't involve eating anyone, does it? Just checking.

Keane Light visits Keane in his cell, and offers to braid his hair. I guess they made up, because Keane Light still looks as gay as the day is long. Keane declines at first, but can't resist this: "I'll make your hair look so nice they won't want to kill you." Keane laughs for the first time in memory. Aw. Keane Light tells Keane that he saw their father on TV the day before, and that he's sorry he's not who Keane wants him to be, but he likes being queer. A tear drops onto Keane's forehead, prompting Keane to look up and say, "I love you, Billie. Allah loves you." Keane Light says that their dad doesn't. Damn. I find Keane's extended storyline very moving. This season may be depression in a box set, but it's certainly beautifully written. McManus interrupts this touching scene, and his timing is as bad as Said's is good. Jerk. He tells the boys the news about their sister, and that she's waiting for a transplant, but organs are scarce. Keane immediately volunteers one of his kidneys, and charges McManus with making it happen. I'm actually rooting for Timbo to come through here. Shocking, isn't it?

Outside, Sister Pete is leading the protesters in cries of "No justice, no peace." McManus watches through an open window, and Glynn finds him to break the news that the Pernicious Peewee won't grant a stay of execution, as he thinks Keane is too dangerous to be released to a hospital. I think they need to hoist the Pernicious Peewee on his own public-opinion petard (alliteration, whee!), as it's one thing to execute criminals, but it's quite another to let an innocent person die because they couldn't wait an extra day or two to execute someone. McManus begs Glynn to fight, but Glynn says that if they go public, it'll only fuel the protesters, with which I frankly don't see the fucking problem. McManus says the PP thinks he's God. "Maybe it's time we got some help from the real one."

Cut to Mukada's office, where he incredulously parrots, "You want me to call the Cardinal to intercede?" McManus says yes. Mukada tries to tell him that the Cardinal is more conservative than Jesse Helms and Bill Buckley combined. Well, we'll see if you get invited to the Lido Deck the time the Love Boat sails, mister! McManus tells him to make the call anyway, and this is one time his reputation as the bloodiest-hearted liberal is an asset, because if he doesn't have a problem with it, it's hard for anyone else to. Mukada gives us some of his own backstory, namely that he was a favorite of the Cardinal's until he worked in his office and asked a few too many questions. "I defied him instead of deifying him." McManus: "So Jefferson Keane's sister dies because you and the Cardinal had a tiff?" Well, Billie Keane got sent out of Em City because you were in a snit with his brother, McManus, so blow it out your self-righteous ass. And that's about as mild an insult as I can come up with for old Timbo, so you can tell I'm on his side here. Mukada says he'll make the call, but it probably won't do any good. Oh, I don't know about that. "Cardinal Stubing? Remember that night you plied me with just a few too many pia coladas in the hot tub? Well, I'm calling in that favor. No, not like that."