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You can't spell "Team Escarpara" without T-Bag and C-Note. Since Michael spends much of this episode in crafts class, the non-tattooed, un-SHU'd contingent has to take over the heavy lifting. They have to make sure someone from the Team gets Michael and Sucre's cell, which the guards are putting up for "auction." Raising the money involves getting beaten up (C-Note), handing over a precious pocket watch with a daughter's picture (Westmoreland), and playing a high-stakes game of prison poker (C-Note and T-Bag). When Geary the pilfering CO pockets the capital, Team Escarpara then engineers a way to frame him for Michael's burn, thus A) firing Geary, and B) springing Michael from the Whack Shack.
Speaking of Michael's adventures in the mental health system, thanks to some strategic finger-work, he soon has Haywire off the meds and high on life again. Haywire supplies artwork detailing the missing piece of the tattoo, and then Michael out-manipulates him so that Haywire won't be coming with Team Escarpara. (However, the team does get a new member in Sucre's cousin, Captain Calories.)
In conspiracy updates: Brinker verbally bitch-slaps Kellerman around and tells him he's uninvited from the scheme. Kellerman promptly swings the VP around to his side by pointing out to her that Brinker's setting the VP up to take the fall if anything happens to Lincoln. And in the last five minutes of the episode, something does: he's in a car accident.
Meanwhile, Nick and Veronizzzzzzzzzzzzâ¦sorry. Dozed off. Apparently Nick's about to sell Veronica down a river. Yawn. Want more? The full recap starts right below!
Well, it's Sobell's birthday, so what better gift to give her than a week where she no longer has to just willingly suspend disbelief, but lure it into a dark alley where she knee-caps it, kicks it in the head, and takes its wallet just so that it doesn't get any ideas about ratting her out to the cops? I'm assuming my husbandly duties and pinch-hitting for her while she celebrates her 19th birthday. So long as this episode doesn't feature excessive amounts of vomiting, things should go just fine.
We begin right where the last episode left off, with Michael trying to refresh Haywire's memory: "I have a tattoo? And you're one of those dudes who can see the patterns in anything? And also freakishly smart? And crazy as a shithouse rat? Why don't you recall the tattoo without also remembering that I framed you for assaulting me in my cell?" Haywire is all, "Are you the guy who stole my toothpaste?" Indeed! The guy who stole your toothpaste! And not the guy who framed you for assault -- we can't stress that part enough.
Just then, the penal system's equivalent of Nurse Ratched waddles over with paper cups of medication, which Haywire receives gratefully. Michael proves to be a more finicky psych ward patient; "No, thank you," he demurs, apparently forgetting that he's in prison and free will ain't exactly on the menu. After telling the nurse he'd prefer to talk to Dr. Tancredi about whether or not he has to take a mild sedative, he helpfully adds, "I'm feeling better." "That's great," the nurse snaps back. "Now take the pill." Haywire chimes in, "Take 'em. They're good." He's cuckoo for Quaaludes, apparently. Still not grasping that he isn't just stuck in a day spa with really indifferent service, Michael resists, and the nurse hollers for reinforcements. Not that she needs them -- she's just messing with Michael's head.
Inside the former HQ for Team Escarpara, Geary (the sticky-fingered CO) is tossing the cell just in case there's anything of value he can pilfer. Bellick comes over and cheerily says, "Scofield went J-cat?" Geary sagely opines that he saw the crackup coming from Day One. Bellick is practically giddy at the idea of Michael over in the Whack Shack. Geary is practically giddy for reasons of his own: "Middle cell, middle tier. Prime piece of real estate. You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'? We can promise to keep it a single for a few months, auction it off." Damn, you can't even escape real estate speculators in jail!
Back in the Whack Shack, an orderly -- think Scatman Crothers after six straight months with Bowflex -- explains to Michael that there's more than one way to get a pill into one's digestive tract, should someone be unwilling to swallow. That convinces Michael to down his pills, saving us all the riveting "Look out, Tummy, here it comes" scene. After popping open Michael's mouth to see that the pill is well and truly swallowed, the orderlies disperse…just as Michael removes the pill from where he's been stashing it between his cheek and gums. Why, that sneaky sneak who sneaks! On the bright side, Michael was able to carry out an elaborate plan of deception without having to first get a full-body tattoo this time.
Now, it's off to make sure that Haywire gets off the junk. Michael reminds Haywire that he once drew Michael's tattoo from memory and please, pretty please, could he do it again? The lewd, mind-altering drugs seem to already be taking their effect on Haywire, who stares back glassily. Michael gives a grim look, prepping himself to get all Nancy Reagan on Haywire's drug-using ass.
Geary is in the midst of conducting his prison-cell open house. "Middle cell," he tells a con who looks suspiciously like James "Scotty" Doohan. "Cold in the summer. Warm in the winter." Scotty inquires about asking price; Geary informs him that it's a seller's market. Scotty offers him $200 and an autographed copy of Shatner's "The Transformed Man." And we have a deal -- Geary advises Scotty to get back to his cell so he can work on transferring title and handling all the other messy paperwork that's endemic to real estate transactions.
Ah, but upon close inspection, Scotty notices the toilet's leaking -- not surprising, what with there being an escape tunnel behind it and all. Nevertheless, that's not the sort of thing the cautious home buyer should let slide without first making a counter-offer. Geary assures his client that he'll put in a work order and that the toilet will be replaced in 24 hours -- because Team Escarpara doesn't have enough on their plate these days.
T-Bag has been eavesdropping all this time. "I heard you was moving some real estate," he drawls to Geary, who tells him that the transaction has been completed. Foolish Geary -- this is your chance to start a bidding war, thus driving up the property values for all the surrounding cells! Geary stomps off, leaving T-Bag to stare mournfully at the toilet that might have been his gateway to a new life of depravity and turpitude. Which is sad. I guess. Sort of.
Commercial break: You know when the producers of The Sentinel realized they needed someone to play a grim-faced federal agent who waves around a gun a lot and looks incredulous at every single plot twist, how long do you think it took Kiefer Sutherland's phone to ring? Forty seconds? Twenty? I have a bet with the missus.
Back in the cell block, Westmoreland is showing off a pocket-watch containing a baby picture of his daughter to C-Note and talking sadly about the heartache of outliving both your spouse and daughter. The latter has a week, maybe two to live, Westmoreland reminds us. Since no scene of human suffering is complete without T-Bag, in saunters the man himself to utter this show's recurring catchphrase: "We've got a problem." T-Bag informs his fellow team members that Chateau de Scofield is about to get a new resident who, sadly, doesn't find the leaky toilet to his meticulous standards. "They move that toilet," T-Bag begins. "They find the hole," Westmoreland says. These two must really clean up in those prison-wide Password competitions I hear so much about.
C-Note scoffs when he learns that the cell has commanded a $200 asking price. "You had me scared there for a second," he says, before seeking out Geary to make a counter-offer of double the price. Geary tells C-Note he's getting $250 -- wasn't that $200 before the commercial break? -- making the going rate $500. "Ain't a problem," C-Note replies confidently.
It's crafts time in the Whack Shack, where Michael is busily working on something at a table, keeping one eye on Haywire and the other on the guards. When the guards take a well-timed powder -- Fox River Prison: We Never Let Down Our Guard Except for When We Do -- Michael beats feet over to Haywire and begins to lead him away. Haywire understandably wants to know where he's being led off to; "It's a surprise," Michael replies. And boy howdy, is it ever -- I'd say being shoved into a supply closet and forced to vomit is the very definition of a surprise, though not exactly a pleasant one (for Haywire or the home viewer). I guess the craft Michael was working on was ipecac. But at least that nasty pill is out of Haywire and shimmering with the other contents of his stomach on the supply closet floor.
Linc is lounging about in solitary when a guard informs him that he's got a phone call -- it's L.J. and it's an emergency. That rouses Linc out of his stupor -- or, since this is Dominic Purcell, into a less noticeable state of stupor than we're accustomed to seeing. L.J. is not exactly a ray of sunshine over the phone: "I don't care what happens to me anymore, okay? They won. They'll always win. I just wanted to take one of them down with me." And a bang-up job you did, too, there, kid -- Kellerman must have gone through two, maybe three dish towels stopping the bleeding from that surface wound you inflicted on him.
Linc decides he'd rather talk to Veronica, which really isn't an endorsement of L.J.'s conversational skills. "Lincoln?" she says. "No -- the Birdman of Alcatraz," he replies. "Who do you think it is, Professor?" Or maybe he just asks her what the charges against his no-account son are. Attempted murder -- as the great Sideshow Bob once observed, do they give out a Nobel Prize for attempted chemistry? Oh, and also the murder of L.J.'s mother and stepfather that the feds have so thoughtfully framed the li'l scamp for.
"I guess bail is out of the question," Linc says, marking the first time in recorded history that Veronica is the legal eagle in a conversation about the law. Veronica posits that the only chance L.J. has is to get tried as a minor, and that he needs to show some remorse. Considering the fact that she's delivering this theory to one of her most recent clients while he sits on Death Row, I'm thinking L.J. might want to make a call to the public defender's office, just to see if there's some intern hanging around who might want to handle his case. L.J.'s apparently thinking the same thing, as Veronica complains that he won't listen to her. "He'll listen to me," Linc says, adding, "If he gets tried as an adult, he may as well sit on my lap in the chair." Well, the family that fries together… Veronica offers to petition the Department of Corrections, cheerfully adding that "it's a million-to-one shot that they'll let you out to see him." Which means it will happen, since the opposite of everything Veronica says comes true.
The Music of Impending Gang Violence plays, which is Fox's signal that it's time for America to watch black people talking. Specifically, C-Note is telling his associates to round up all his savings, as there's this nice little property back in the cellblock that he has his eye on.
Kellerman favors some lighter FM fare than The Music of Impending Gang Violence -- he's listening to The Guess Who as he uses the rearview mirror of his car to check out the shaving nick L.J. inflicted upon him. But before Kellerman can drive off to enjoy more conspiratorial misadventures, several SUVs screech in front and behind his car, blocking his path. Out pop half a dozen men in black -- the secret-agent type, not the Johnny Cash-impersonator type -- along with Agent Brinker. "Are you insane?" Kellerman asks. Quite possibly -- but Brinker isn't there to talk about her. It's Kellerman who's the topic of discussion today, specifically the fact that "a 16-year-old pothead managed to track you down and shoot you." Kellerman insists he can still do his job; Brinker finds this suggestion laughable, if she was, in fact, capable of summoning laughter. "You are not to make a move on Burrows under any circumstance. We make that call," she snarls. "You know what, Trixie?" Kellerman shoots back. "There are actually higher agendas here." Brinker agrees. "And they don't belong to you," she sneers. Kellerman has received his dismissal from the Secret Service, reduced to leading the life more ordinary of Owen Kravecki, jerky salesman. Hope the conspiracy offers a lucrative severance package.
Back in the Whack Shack, Haywire is watching a documentary about penguins not narrated by Morgan Freeman, and Michael is watching Haywire. "I need you to focus. I need you to remember what you drew," Michael begs of Haywire. Haywire responds by blinking. Michael encapsulates the frustration of an entire nation by putting his hand on his head and sighing audibly. The beefed-up version of Scatman Crothers leads Haywire off to his group therapy session while Michael stares purposefully at…well, whatever he normally stares purposefully at. But he's taken out of his purposeful reverie by this sudden observation from Haywire: "It's a path." "Yes," Michael agrees. "It is a path." And then he smiles the smile of a man who's suddenly realized that his plan to intentionally get sent to the psychotic ward of a federal penitentiary isn't going to go for naught, after all.
Back in the yard, C-Note is receiving the news that he's been turned down for his loan. "You got nothin' comin'," says Imposing Prison Thug No. 2, by way of explanation. "All your outstanding markers, they're mine now." And if C-Note doesn't like that, Imposing Prison Thug No. 2 informs him, "go cry to your new crew." It seems C-Note's one-time associates do not care for his mingling with the white crowd. C-Note becomes so engaged in defending his position -- "I can have tea with the Grand Wizard of the KKK if I want," he says -- that he fails to notice the other Imposing Prison Thugs hastily shoving D-cell batteries into handy socks. "Out of respect for what you once were, I'm going to let you walk away," Imposing Prison Thug No. 2 says. C-Note makes a counter-offer -- a right hook to the jaw that sounds like someone slapped a frozen tri-tip against a kettle drum. That unleashes the fury of a dozen sock-wielding men who, with help of their batteries keep going and going and going and…okay, you get the idea.
After the commercial break tries to convince us that Taco Bell's Value Menu fills you with "great taste" as opposed to "horrible, distending gasses," Haywire is getting his fill of the goofy pills, much to Michael's visible displeasure. Michael signs the weary sigh of a man who has to go and make someone else upchuck…until he walks into the supply closet to find Haywire doing the deed himself. "You were right," Haywire says. "The pills don't let me see the pathway." So have Michael teach you that trick where you only pretend to swallow them, my man -- I'm trying to enjoy some snack cakes here.
Haywire's sudden insight is Michael's cue to start stripping and posing for Uncle Crazy. "It's a pathway to hell," Haywire concludes. "It's just the opposite," Michael reassures him. Haywire ogles Michael a bit longer -- save it for your LiveJournal, dude -- and has his epiphany. "I remember," he says.
A visibly bruised C-Note limps over to Westmoreland and T-Bag in the cafeteria. "Looks like the Bank of Africa wasn't allowing any withdrawals," T-Bag says. Well, it's all those Nigerian businessman, generously sharing their bounty with us American emailers, obviously -- there's been a run on funds. C-Note concludes that Team Escarpara will have to find another way to raise the necessary funds. T-Bag suggests that this would be a task best left to the member of the group who may in fact be a notorious skyjacker, while staring pointedly at Westmoreland. "A) I'm not D.B. Cooper," says Westmoreland, none too convincingly. "And B) there's no visitation today, which means none of us can get any money from the outside world." The problem having been spelled out in painful detail for those of us at home, T-Bag offers up a possible solution: "The kitchen game." No, not Iron Chef. Besides, the only prize there is the honor of humiliating Bobby Flay. What T-Bag has in mind is the high-stakes poker game conducted in the prison kitchen. "When I play cards, it ain't gambling," T-Bag boasts. "There's maybe five people in this country that can do what I do with a deck of cards." Westmoreland speaks for all of us when he wonders why T-Bag waited until now to bring it up. Because it wasn't germane to the plot up until this point, would be my guess. ["Or that the writers hadn't had the opportunity to rip it off ofLost yet." -- Sars] Though T-Bag's explanation is that, up until now, he preferred not to be sliced, diced, and julienned should anyone catch him cheating. What's more, Team Escarpara needs $50 for the buy-in, which it decidedly does not have -- though, judging by that look on Westmoreland's face, he seems to have a pretty good idea of how to get it.
In the Whack Shack, Michael and Haywire are recreating the scene from Titanic where Leo DiCaprio sketches Kate Winslet. Only without the Celine Dion soundtrack. And the sex. Presumably. Haywire is a bit thrown by the fact that a large chunk of the tattoo -- not to mention Michael's shoulder blade -- has gone missing. "That's why I need you to fix it. That's why I need you to remember what was there before," Michael says with growing urgency. Haywire responds with some mumbo-jumbo about how you can't break a path because it doesn't lead anywhere. Michael suggests to him that he do a little less freaking out and a lot more remembering. At this particular point, Haywire is not up to the challenge.
Appearing in the hallway is Sucre's cousin, a character that has been the subject of a fierce debate in the Sobell household. The wife has dubbed this character Captain Calories. Me, I favor calling him False Hurley. And since I'm the one typing this particular recap, False Hurley he shall be. "I need you to give Sucre a message," Michael informs False Hurley. "Tell him I'm okay, and that I'm trying to fill in the blanks. He'll know what that means." "You're trying to fill in the blanks?" False Hurley repeats, as if Michael has just asked him to pour a gallon of yogurt down his pants. Michael suggests that False Hurley deliver the message as stated. Between him and Haywire, it's so hard to find good help in prison these days.
Of course, seeing a shirtless Michael clues False Hurley in to the burned-guard-uniform-sized hole on Michael's back. To drive home the point, we are treated to a flashback of false Hurley eyeballing the burnt uniform, followed by another shot of Michael's burnt back. Then a banner proclaiming, "The burn on his back matches the burn on the guard uniform that you lent Sucre!" is unfurled. Or maybe it isn't. The point is that False Hurley has put two and two together.
Meanwhile, land baron Geary is busy showing off his hot property to another interested buyer -- Westmoreland. Ah, but this is all a ruse to get Westmoreland inside the cell so that he can flip through the Bible he once gave to Michael. You remember that Bible, don't you? The one containing the $100 bill that Westmoreland used to prove his D.B. Cooperness? You don't? Well, perhaps another flashback will help. Or maybe not putting the show on hiatus for four months -- that might help us remember plot points, too. Anyhow, Westmoreland makes off with the Bible, and T-Bag has his buy-in for the poker game.
T-Bag saunters over to C-Note's cell to share the news of his good fortune. C-Note is understandably wary of having a prolonged conversation with T-Bag, lest any battery-stuffed socks be in the vicinity. But T-Bag needs to talk business: "You and I are going to have be partners in this endeavor," he explains to a reluctant C-Note. "All you need to know is this: every time I deal, you bet big and never fold. You see, if I'm winning every time I deal, I end up with a Colombian necktie. You know what I'm saying?" And if C-Note wins every time T-Bag deals, that diverts suspicion how, exactly? "Say, I couldn't help but notice the guy on your P-I crew wins big each hand you deal. Ah well, probably just a coincidence." Yet T-Bag seems confident that very few people would ever assume an unrepentant white supremacist pedophile and a street-smart African-American would ever work together. Except on a UPN sitcom, maybe.
On the outside, we catch up with Nick, who's trying to find a charger for Dead Quinn's cell phone at a local electronics shop. Suddenly, a mysterious man pops up to menace Nick over by the cell phone accessories. "You have a lousy calling plan, Savrinn," the mysterious man says. "The overages will break you!" Or perhaps he just asks Nick where Veronica is. Nick tells our mystery man that Veronica is filing petitions at the courthouse, and that she'll be back at his apartment in an hour. "See? That was easy," Mystery Man says. "I shouldn't have to chase you down to get that information." Nick's request that the mysterious stranger respect his personal space goes unheeded. "Why don't you remember who you're talking to, who I work for," says Mystery Man, as he suddenly gets all handsy with Nick. "You need to keep an eye on Veronica Donovan. Not some of the time. All of the time. Because pretty soon, we're gonna call in our favor. Unless you want to go back on our deal." Nick reluctantly agrees that there will be no give-backs. And personally, this excites me because I have Episode 20 in the "Nick Sells Out Veronica" office pool, and it's looking like I'm about to finish in the money.
Back in the Land of the White Smocks, Michael is trying to remind Haywire that users are losers. When that fails to get a response, it's off to the supply closet for the round of Upchuck Theater. Ah, but it turns out that Haywire was just playing possum and is not at all the blissed-out, doped-up weirdo he appeared to be -- instead he is righteously pissed. "You should be careful when you tell people to remember things, Michael," Haywire says, as he grabs Michael by the throat. "Because I remember everything now. I remember how you set me up." Oh, and judging by the sketch Haywire has just revealed, he also remembers what the missing chunk of Michael's flesh looks like: "Your pathway. Your map. Your escape." So that's the good news for Michael -- too bad he remembered that other thing, too. Haywire threatens to tear up his drawing unless Michael agrees to clue him in on the escape plans. Fortunately, Michael has the entire commercial break to mull over this dilemma.
When we return, Michael is showing Haywire where the map leads -- from the basement to a hatch in the coal room to the pipe system to the infirmary. "I just need to get out of psych ward to set things up," Michael says. "But three days after I'm gone, I'll come back up through the basement and get you out." This seems like just another empty campaign promise to Haywire, who's been let down so many times in the past by people with escape plans tattooed on their bodies. "I need you to trust me," Michael says, reaching for the map. Haywire hands it over, on one condition: "If you try to screw me over again, I'll kill you." Seems like a fair trade-off.
Back at his apartment, Nick sits on his couch trying not to look guilty. He fails -- he might as well be holding a bag with 30 pieces of silver in one hand and an "Ask Me About My Part in the Global Anti-Linc Conspiracy" pamphlet in the other. Naturally, this is all too subtle for Veronica's keen powers of observation, as she returns to the apartment blathering on about her efforts to spring Lincoln so that he can visit L.J. in the hoosegow. She does notice that Nick found a charger for Dead Quinn's cell phone, however. "Why didn't you plug it in?" she asks. "Because I was too busy selling you out," he replies. Or maybe he just makes up some story about how he was thinking. "About what?" Veronica asks. "About how I've doomed you," he says. Or "nothing." He could have said "nothing." Anyhow, the charger works, and they have all 322 numbers in Quinn's phone book. What do you want to bet that 321 belong to mysterious men who menace people in electronics stores?
Speaking of betting, we follow a long Scorsese-esque shot through the maze of hallways leading to the Fox River kitchen, where the poker game in which our heroes hope to win the necessary $500 is in full swing. It's five-card draw, and the game's organizer, Jesus, is encouraging C-Note to bet with greater alacrity. To keep the suspicions of Jesus and his cohorts at bay, T-Bag directs some light-hearted racial taunting C-Note's way. C-Note shoves a wad of bills into the pot, calling the bet. Jesus reveals that he's holding a set of queens, only to discover that C-Note's beaten him with a full house. "That's a concept a Mexican should be familiar with," T-Bag says. Yep, that light-hearted racial taunting is really going to throw them off your scent there, my man.
Back at the heart of the World's Largest Conspiracy (motto: Not in on it? You will be soon), Kellerman is tattling on Brinker to Madame Vice President. "Whatever their agenda is with Burrows, it is not the same as ours," Kellerman sniffs. "This whole business with his father -- it interferes with the one thing we set out to do in the first place: put Lincoln Burrows in the ground." That's the problem with most widespread conspiracies reaching the upper echelons of power -- they tend to lose focus. That's why I prefer that my conspiracies are limited to a handful of tight-knit cohorts that I can really trust. The Vice President suggests the same thing: "Maybe it's time we broke ranks." "You do that, they'd pull support for the campaign," Kellerman warns. "That is, if they know, Paul," the Vice President retorts. And then she and Kellerman laugh sinisterly and twirl their mustaches and finish tying up the damsel to the railroad track.
Or maybe we just cut back to the poker game, where T-Bag is busy sniffing all the money. The money immediately demands to be steam-cleaned. As T-Bag shuffles the deck, Jesus declares that this will be the last hand: "I'm tired of losing all my money today." Then, you're going to be really unhappy in a scene or two, bub, since T-Bag is dealing C-Note what looks to be a 10-high straight. Or it would have been a 10-high straight had T-Bag not accidentally flipped over the 10 of diamonds when trying to deal it to his compatriot. The other players call for a misdeal, burying the card and finishing up the hand -- "house rules," Jesus says with menace, which is why I usually choose to do my poker-playing in a reputable casino with honest dealers instead of in a prison kitchen with a white-supremacist pedophile card shark. Unless, you know, the action's good. Anyhow, T-Bag deals C-Note a two of diamonds, giving him a handful of nothing.
While we wait to see how T-Bag and C-Note are supposed to win a hand without, you know, cheating, Pope pokes his head into Lincoln's cell to let him know that the petition requesting that he be allowed to meet with L.J. has been approved. This keeps Veronica's perfect record intact and illustrates more vividly than ever why her clients would be better off putting their legal fates in the hand of disbarred shysters who got their degrees from unaccredited off-shore law schools. Pope marvels about this turn of events -- he's never seen it happen. "Good lawyers," Linc says. "No lawyer's that good," Pope counters. You got that right.
Back in the big game, the camera over Jesus's shoulder reveals that he's holding three sevens, which is much better than the non-straight that C-Note has. Jesus bets all he has -- $82. C-Note hesitates -- we call that a "tell," folks -- before raising Jesus another $74. "I said I only got $82 left," Jesus says. "Then I guess you're out of luck," C-Note retorts. And with that, Jesus folds, making C-Note the winner. Except…that's not how poker works, at least not in any game that I've played. Once a player goes all in, you can either call the bet or fold -- you can't raise someone money they don't have. Maybe prison poker works different. Whatever the rationale, it gives what should have been an engaging scene a phony-baloney feel.
While we contemplate a world where people can make up rules to card games as they go along, Haywire is trying to show he's not so crazy after all. He's kept a whole sketchbook full of drawings of Michael's tattoo. And he's going to use them to sneak out on his own. It's a brilliant plan, and it would have worked, too…provided Haywire didn't set off the alarm trying to get into the basement. Haywire quickly realizes that he's been set up by Michael -- again -- and flies into a rage. That's nothing a taser blast to the small of your back won't fix, and soon, a subdued Haywire is being lugged back to his room while Michael watches from a window. Check and mate, old friend.
Out in the yard, C-Note hands a thick wad of bills to Geary, only to find that the price of the cell has jumped another $200 to $700. Where is this prison cell -- Northern California? C-Note is outraged at this trickery, which is a funny posture to take for a guy who acquired his $500 stake largely via a rigged poker game. Geary is predictably unsympathetic, so C-Note turns to Westmoreland and proposes they use Westmoreland's prized watch. They're going to charge 200 cons a dollar each just to look at Westmoreland's watch? Oh, silly me -- C-Note wants to use the watch to make up the difference between the initial $500 investment and the $700 Geary's asking for now. Westmoreland reluctantly agrees. So that makes C-Note landed gentry now, doesn't it? Well, not exactly. "Your problem is somebody already gave me $700 for the cell. So you're SOL," Geary says. "So you're just going to take my money and walk?" an incredulous C-Note asks. "Well, write your congressman," Geary replies. Won't have to -- the way Tom DeLay's been running things lately, C-Note's cellmate will probably be his congressman.
Commercial break: It's nice to know that Patch Adams will no longer be the most disgraceful entry on Robin Williams's résumé once RV hits theaters.
Michael is waiting for Dr. Sara, hastily shoving Haywire's sketch under his smock when she enters. "Hey," he says. "Hi," she counters. A regular Hepburn and Tracy, these two. Michael presents Dr. Sara with an ashtray -- "They only let us make these and jewelry, and I didn't figure you for the macaroni necklace type" -- which she accepts, even though she doesn't smoke. But arts and crafts aren't the only reason Michael's called Dr. Sara here today. He wants to point out how totally sane he is, now that he's got that sketch again, so would she mind springing him from the loony bin? Sure, Dr. Sara says -- but the problem is that if Michael doesn't tell Pope who burned him, then it's back to solitary for our hero.
While Michael chews that over, False Hurley is busy passing along Michael's message to Sucre. When Sucre request return service, False Hurley refuses -- "I'm done with your little secrets and messages, bro," he says. "I saw Scofield's back. He's got a burn in the same spot as that guard's shirt. I don't know what you're doing, but I have an idea. And I'm through helping you until you tell me what's going on." Sucre demurs, and False Hurley prepares to exit stage right when Linc speaks up from his cell. "I think we can work something out," he says. And Team Escarpara has just added the light-hearted comic relief to the squad.
And not a moment to soon, as C-Note, Westmoreland, and T-Bag are in the cafeteria, cursing the cruel turn of events fate has dealt them. Geary's got all their money. The magical portal behind their toilet is about to be discovered. And the brains behind the operation is still in the psych ward with no apparent plan for getting out. Fortunately, False Hurley has a plan -- which he'll happily divulge just as soon as C-Note finishes using his face to polish up the table. T-Bag tells False Hurley to get lost, but Westmoreland, ever the voice of reason, suggests that maybe they all hear what False Hurley has to say. Let's hope that whatever this scheme is, it does not, in any way, involve inducing vomiting. I think we've had enough of that for one evening.
And here's how the gang put right what once was wrong: False Hurley pushes a cart of laundry past Westmoreland, transferring the contents into the garbage can Westmoreland's pushing. Westmoreland wheels the can into the guard's room and, once the last guard exits, digs inside the trash. While all this is going on, Michael is having a chat with Pope. The subject: the guard who burned Michael and how his name is Geary. Under the tale spun by Michael, Geary shakes down cons for cash: "When I couldn't pay up, he held me down with one arm and burned me with the other. I don't know what he used, but it was hot as hell."
Before we can find out how Henry Gondorff and Johnny Hooker are going to take all of Doyle Lonnegan's money and avenge Luther's death, we cut to Veronica and Nick are tracking down the numbers in Dead Quinn's phone book. The vast majority of them seem to have been disconnected. "Two hundred and fifty businesses, 72 residences covering all 50 states," Veronica says. "London, Martinique, Jakarta, Dakar…as soon as Quinn disappeared, they must have erased the paper trail within days." Well, if anyone can unravel this complex web of deceit, Veronica…it probably isn't you. Maybe you could let L.J. take a crack at it. He's not doing anything these days. Instead, Nick suggests turning over all their data to a private investigator friend of his in Washington. Veronica thanks him profusely for hanging in there and keeping her calm during all this. Nick tries to distract her from the giant neon arrow flashing "Judas!" that's pointing directly at him.
Pope storms into the guard's room, where Geary is about to get served up a heaping dose of prison karma. "What brings you to our little clubhouse?" Bellick asks. But Pope is in no mood for idle chitchat. He storms over to Geary's locker and begins tossing it, only to find C-Note's wad of bills, Westmoreland's watch…and the burnt guard's shirt that Westmoreland obviously planted in his locker.
Cut to Geary in street clothes, being led out of Fox River as he protests his innocence to a contemptuous Bellick. "Don't look at me like I'm some con. You're as crooked as scoliosis," he snaps at Bellick. "I don't get caught," Bellick snarls back at him. And when Bellick can look down his nose at you, you have really hit rock bottom professionally. At the same time Geary departs center stage, the van carrying Lincoln off to meet his son drives by. I'm sure that will go smoothly -- things so often do on this show.
Back at the law offices of Dullard, Dimwit, and Donovan, Veronica is working late into the night, as Nick peers at her from around a doorway. Since this is not suspicious in the least, he then picks up a cell phone and simply says, "She's here. I've got her." Then he hangs up the phone and gets to work burning the filmed footage revealing who's actually responsible for the Kennedy assassination.
Meanwhile, Michael returns to his cell, where a smiling Westmoreland welcomes him home. That reminds Michael -- "Pope wanted me to give you this," he says, handing back the pocket watch to Westmoreland. Presumably, the heart-tugging scene where C-Note is reunited with his Benjamins will be shown week.
Sitting in the van as it speeds toward Chicago, Linc is enjoying the desolate Midwestern scenery; apparently, solitary confinement really can play tricks on a man's mind. Linc is so busy enjoying the view, in fact, that he barely has time to notice the semi-truck that comes blaring down a cross street, just in time to T-bone the van, sending it and its contents spinning wildly toward the side of the road. Why do I have a feeling this show suddenly turned into a remake ofThe Fugitive?