Apparently the lunchroom scuffle inspired a yearning for clean clothes; Rebadow removes a load from the dryer as Alvarez walks in with his laundry bag. Rebadow is fascinated with Alvarez's decision to throw caution to the wind; Alvarez asks if Rebadow thinks it'll work, if he'll survive, but Rebadow doesn't know. Alvarez thinks Rebadow should have a pretty good idea, since he's been in Oz for the better part of three decades, has seen it all and more, and knows all the tricks. What, by the way, is Rebadow in for? I started watching too late and have never figured that out, but he's always intrigued me. Definitely an interesting character. ["First-degree murder." -- Sars]
Rebadow says there aren't any tricks -- he's just been himself. Then he goes philosophical, explaining the generation gap to Alvarez. "Young people today," he says (and I groan), have come of age in a world of infinite choice, which is cool, but so many of them tend to battle with themselves over their own identities. In Rebadow's day (and I groan again), things were simpler. No finding-yourself crap. They were just a bunch of teenagers headed to war. Alvarez thinks Rebadow is about to pull the hero card, and asks if they were all he-men (to Alvarez's She-Ra), but Rebadow says no; it was just about accepting who you were, working with what you had, and being ready and willing to accept the blow. Tucked within his nostalgic armed-forces pep rally, Rebadow's got a pretty good rule of thumb: never turn down blow if somebody's offering. Rebadow tells Alvarez that he's "faced plenty of hurdles and moments of fear" in his life, but "coming from an age when men took the blow [see?]," he's always felt comfortable in his own skin. Edified, Alvarez bolts.
Lara Croft's breasts, followed closely by Lara Croft, run and jump; the camera pans back to reveal Guerra playing on a computer. Do these guys really have internet access? That seems like something that would be off-limits to prisoners -- just think of the bomb-building, pedophiliac, and other nefarious opportunities, not to mention the fact that online porn could make the computer room an awfully messy place to spend time. Alvarez wanders in and sits down to Guerra, who's growing increasingly befuddled by the former's brazen behavior. Alvarez rolls his chair over even closer to Guerra and tells him that he wants him to stab him (this sentence is brought to you by the pronoun "him"). More befuddlement. Basically, Alvarez wants Guerra to stab him in the shoulder -- but not to kill him. Guerra gets the satisfaction of a free shot at Alvarez without retaliation, and Alvarez survives. Alvarez demands witnesses (no guards, just inmates), so that if Guerra does kill him, someone will go to the warden and land Guerra on death row. Two guards look at the pair suspiciously, and they smile and look guilty (and Guerra's eye is totally droopy -- I had never noticed that before). So, is this just Alvarez buying his survival, or does he have something else up his sleeve? Discuss.
“ Zen Master Redding then hands something he'd like Hill to place on his mother's grave -- his high school graduation ring. Because nothing says 'gee, sorry you're dead' quite like Jostens. ”
Guerra, whittling and talking to Morales, says he is, in fact, going to kill Alvarez; he'll just place a shank in his hand after he's down and claim self-defense. Morales gets all wiggy because his sister is dead, and since he's heard the news, he's "felt nothing." But Guerra's murderous plans give Morales a little charge in his belly -- his words, not mine -- and he thinks that's a little fucked-up (my words, not his). Morales says that his sister worshipped him, and that Guerra can't kill Alvarez. Guerra's now getting confusing messages from all sides and wonders what the hell is happening. Morales tells him that, because he hasn't shed a tear for a sister who thought so highly of him, and because he's getting all revved up over the possibly slaying of Alvarez, something is wrong. They owe it to themselves -- and to the memory of Annette -- to take a quiet moment and try to figure out what's happening. Okay, time out. Morales is just now realizing that there's something amiss? Like perhaps he's a complete sociopath who's dangerous tendencies have been exacerbated by prison? Are we witnessing the beginning of a turn-around that would make McManus all wet-eyed? Morales just doesn't seem like the introspective type. Guerra tells him it's just a delayed reaction -- that he'll be "crying like a baby" in a week -- and argues that they don't have time to wait. Their best chance to kill Alvarez is now. As my mother never said, don't put off until tomorrow what you can kill today.
Alvarez is doing sit-ups in the gym; Guerra enters, and Alvarez hops up. "Ready?" he asks. Guerra looks around, the one guard in the room conveniently runs out (literally), and Guerra pulls a knife from his pocket. Alvarez starts shouting for all the inmates in the room to look at him, and a series of quick cuts establishes that he's got all the witnesses he could want; as Guerra approaches, Enrique "Papa Conscience" Morales appears, so Guerra sticks to Alvarez's initial terms and stabs him squarely in the shoulder (eliciting appreciative yells from the peanut gallery). Guerra's bad eye goes all googly and he hands the blade to an accomplice as Alvarez goes down, blood seeping from his shoulder; Morales, presumably satisfied, makes a hasty exit. Alvarez gets ample screen time to writhe in agony as he lies bleeding on a gym mat.
Redding's helping Hill get dressed for his mother's funeral, Redding's tie-tying emphasizing his fatherly relationship to Hill; Hill says he wishes Redding could attend the services. Redding agrees that he'd really like to go, but understands because he's not really a relative. Hill still can't believe that his "Moms be dead." I am shocked, simply shocked, by this display of Ebonics from our trusty monologist -- even times of extreme grief do not excuse massacres of the Queen's English. Redding starts reminiscing about meeting Eugenia -- years ago, at about age 14; Redding was hanging with Hill's father when a woman, attached to a beautiful pair of eyes, started across the street. Redding pointed her out to Hill Senior, their eyes met, and the rest (wedding, child) is history. Hill, a close-up of his profile indicating that he's about to utter something important, asks Redding, "You always loved my moms, didn't you?" Redding says of course he did, but Hill turns around and repeats himself, emphasizing and drawing out the word "loved," and making it sound salacious and naughty, so there's absolutely no question what he means. Redding says he loved Hill's father too -- um, okay, TMI, thank you very much -- but that life works out the way life works out. Zen Master Redding then hands something he'd like Hill to place on his mother's grave -- his high school graduation ring. Because nothing says "gee, sorry you're dead" quite like Jostens.
“ Rebadow lowers himself to Busmalis's level and says that there's never enough money to support worthy causes before trundling off to see Dr. Nathan. From subtle to bludgeon in 8.4 seconds. ”
A puppet that looks like a used tampon fills the screen as Ryan asks Busmalis about his disappearing fiance and Poet says something rhyming and dumb. Busmalis points out that Norma's name is still in the credits of Miss Sally (the puppet show, I presume), and Poet says something that doesn't rhyme about the show -- oh, according to Poet it's called Mith Thally's Thcoolyard -- getting cancelled, which upsets Busmalis in exactly the way I imagine he'd be upset by the cancellation of a puppet show. Poet calls him a sad fuck and says he understands why Norma bolted, which quite upsets Rebadow, who tells Poet he knows not of what he speaks and that he's a "stupid fool." Rebadow retreats to his pod; Busmalis follows.
After thanking him for his support, Busmalis warns Rebadow that he's gonna get his ass kicked; Rebadow shrugs it off, and Busmalis wonders what's wrong. Seems Rebadow's son came to visit and delivered the news that Rebadow's grandson -- Alex, Jr. -- is getting worse. He's developed non-lymphocytic leukemia (yikes) and is in desperate need of a bone marrow transplant. Rebadow's no good as a donor -- no family member will do, because, Rebadow explains, "Alex Junior's mother is of West Indian and Guatemalan descent. My grandson's unique mixed-race heritage makes for the most beautiful skin you'll ever lay eyes on. It also makes finding a suitable donor extremely difficult." I painstakingly transcribe these lines because -- in addition to being rather interesting (and something that, if true, poses considerable challenges -- ah, those pesky laws of nature) -- they represent decent dialogue, which is an unfortunate and increasing rarity on the show. I'd like to give props to those lines and ask for more, please. We come crashing back to earth as Busmalis becomes a living, breathing PSA, lamenting the lack of minority bone marrow donors and wailing that doctors should get the word out and find more. Rebadow lowers himself to Busmalis's level and says that there's never enough money to support worthy causes before trundling off to see Dr. Nathan. From subtle to bludgeon in 8.4 seconds.
According to Dr. Nathan, the umbilical cord, like bone marrow, contains cells that can help fight leukemia, although that's still a very experimental procedure. Interesting leukemia-related fact number two. She sympathizes with Rebadow, and says that when she hears stories like Alex Junior's, her Latina heritage kicks in and makes her upset that she's so American (but she can still say "Latina" with an authentic-sounding accent. Like J. Lo, she's real). When Rebadow asks what she means, she explains that in Central and South America there's a widespread belief that certain herbs can be very effective against disease, but she's such a disciple of Western medicine that if it's not manufactured in a lab and guaranteed to cause extreme birth defects, it's no good to her, as she hands Rebadow some pills to swallow. Ah, the irony.
“ Rebadow vows to raise the money to finance the research; though I'd generally be skeptical of such claims, the man did just discover the cure for cancer, so I think he's really got it in him. Never underestimate a man in a neckerchief. ”
Dr. Nathan's words light a fire under Rebadow, who heads to the library and asks for any material dealing with herbal medicine, with an emphasis on R&D for leukemia remedies. As he sits in the cafeteria, engrossed in the Well Being Journal, a dark hand reaches across the table and steals Rebadow's cookie. Then another dark hand reaches across and steals his apple. And then his sandwich. Sayeth the oracle of Oz: if white people bury their heads in books, black people will steal their food. Watch out, honky!
Rebadow is obviously serious (like cancer -- ha ha!) about his research; at lights out, he keeps reading. day, he's online (guess that answers my question about the Web), and, after ingesting a journal and a website -- eureka! -- he's found the cure for cancer. It's lapashel (I refuse so much as an attempt to verify the spelling, so don't get all huffy with me if you actually know it), an herb from the rainforests of Paraguay. Rebadow has huge ears (but not as big as Martha Stewart's -- if you notice, they're always covered in pictures, but I saw a 60 Minutes story on her once; she pushed back her hair and I almost fell over. Bet you're all thrilled with that tidbit), and I love his neckerchief. A small way to make a big statement. Unfortunately, lapashel is an evergreen that boasts over 100 species; identifying the one that actually works takes time and lots of money. Rebadow vows to raise the money to finance the research; though I'd generally be skeptical of such claims, the man did just discover the cure for cancer, so I think he's really got it in him. Never underestimate a man in a neckerchief.
Back in the videopod, Hill lists a few laws which can be found on the books around our fine country, which will lead to punishment if violated: in Rhode Island, it is illegal to throw pickle juice on a trolley; in the state of Washington, all lollipops are banned; in Indiana, no baths may be taken between October and March; in San Francisco, one cannot pick up and throw used confetti; while in North Carolina, it is illegal for dogs and cats to fight. That last one, observes Hill, goes against the laws of nature, since dogs and cats are born enemies. Or have men just created the natural law that they are enemies?
Stanton gets wheeled into the infirmary, kicking and flailing and whining like a baby, after receiving a trauma to the head. He tells Dr. Nathan that he doesn't love her; after getting over her initial sadness, she wonders why. Stanton tells her that Leo thinks he (Stanton) is obsessed with her (Nathan's) tits (while he eyes them), which makes Nathan even more upset that she's not the object of Stanton's adoration. Stanton suddenly starts freaking out and yelling that Nathan has to tell Leo he's an innocent man; he pushes the guard away and grabs Nathan's coat, which freaks her out. Ryan, lurking around the infirmary as usual, sees the commotion and punches Stanton in the head. Nathan says she was handling the situation just fine (Ryan, like myself, doesn't think so) and tells him to get the fuck out of her life. Done. Good. Fine. Bye.
Montgomery, in the food line, tells Ryan he wants some more beets -- oh, yeah, and some more money to keep his mouth shut about lying to the warden. This guy's been in Oz for three years and doesn't know that you don't fuck with Ryan O'Reily? He deserves whatever's about to come his way. Ryan says he'll meet him in the library later to discuss the terms of their deal. Talking to Dotcommer, who looks like someone attacked him with blusher, Ryan laments Montgomery's greed before deciding that he'll miss the library rendezvous and will send Stanton in his place. Ryan tracks down Stanton trying to lift weights; when Stanton jumps up and tells Ryan to leave him alone, the latter muses that they got off on the wrong foot and actually have something in common -- they're both suspects in the Keenan murder. They both have eyewitnesses who claim they saw them do the deed. Now, says Ryan, I'm not sure who's fingering me (can't turn around that far, eh?) but I know who's been talking smack about you. Stanton wants to know, but Ryan professes reluctance to spill the beans, as Stanton might do something crazy. Tell me. No. Tell me. No. Tell me. No. The exchange involved a lot of "fucks," but this is a family site, y'all. Martin Montgomery, says Ryan, and Stanton goes ballistic, calls MM a "cunt," and stalks him to the library, where he plunges a Paper Mate pen into his neck. And Peter Criss and his bad hair go off to prisoner heaven. Wonder if Paper Mate paid for that little product plug.
Leo's questioning Ryan about the Paper Mate incident -- oh, turns out Peter Criss and his bad hair just went to Benchley Memorial. Leo asks about Ryan snitching on MM (just a rumor I was repeating, says Ryan) and then about Keenan's shamrock, which was found in Montgomery's cell. Oh, yeah, says Ryan, I think I recognize that. As usual, Leo's getting nowhere.
TV news anchor says that '60s radical Suzanne Fitzgerald, otherwise known as Ryan's real mother, was released from prison after Governor Diminutive commuted her sentence to two years of community service. Cut to Sister Pete and Mukada (looking completely recovered from the bus accident) telling Suzanne how jazzed they are that she'll be doing her community service at Oz, and what a nifty idea starting a performing arts program is (I, for one, think it's preposterous). Pete worries that it'll be tough to convince the inmates to sign up; Mukada thinks they'll jump at the novelty but that it will be tough to keep them involved. Suzanne says that she's motivated ten-year-old boys, so she can surely manage the prisoners. Great -- a cavalier attitude like that always gets punished. Can't wait to see what happens to Ryan's Moms.