There are only four episodes of Prison Break left after this one. Four! This show is pretty much the definition of a one-season premise, and unless the last four are real stinkers they will have managed a better second season than some of my favorite shows ever (*cough*Lost*cough*). Kudos. Michael, Linc and Sara listen to the big secret conversation all those people died for and Sara got tortured for but we don’t get to hear it yet. LJ’s new mommy Jane (LJ!) gives them the name of a former Administration member Aldo trusted, but much wackiness ensues before they can play him the tape. And afterwards, actually. Included in the wackiness: Linc makes an old man take off his clothes and stand in a fountain, Sucre finds a safehouse, a couple of people are plugged, a couple of people are thwacked, and T-Bag is off to Bangkok. Of course he is. Also, C-Note is put in a really awkward position. Literally.2.18 “Wash.” Michael, Linc, and Sara are poised breathlessly over a laptop, listening to…nothing. I mean, we see oscilloscope type graphics that tell us they’re listening to something but we don’t get to hear it. We know essentially what it is (Aldo reminds us in the Previouslies that it’s a phone call between Steadman and Bitchface weeks after he’s supposed to be dead) but there seems to be more to it than they expected, if Sara’s reaction is any indication. As we all know, Michael’s reaction is rarely an indication of anything. He just looks sort of squinty and hot. Everyone stares at the screen, mouths agape. It should be noted that Sara still looks fantastic in that same sweater, Linc looks quite handsome and even has his shirt buttoned, and Michael is still wearing the absolute least flattering $7 grey sweatshirt ever.
Mahone is briefing his minions. They’re halfway done! Four down, four to go! And Sucre was “almost apprehended ” in Mexico, according to Lang. He narrows his eyes and opens his mouth to snark at her, but he’s interrupted by the sight of Bellick in the doorway. Mahone excuses himself to take care of his Junkyard Dog, who’s all “Bitch better have my money!” Mahone reminds him that Bellick was supposed to stay under the radar, and that barging in to a roomful of federal agents is pretty much the exact opposite of stealthy. Bellick responds by threatening to “drop trou,” cause he’s classy like that. He makes a big show of putting his boots up on Mahone’s desk, and Mahone responds by pausing for a moment then kicking Bellick’s feet right off. Heh. He keeps one loafer grinding down on Bellick’s boot and carefully says that he’ll get his damn reward money for Haywire, but there is some paperwork and it might take more than a couple of days, for heaven’s sake. Also, Bellick might want to study up on “under the radar” if he wants to see that cash, or, for that matter, “another sunrise.” Oooh. Oh, and speaking of cash, would Bellick perhaps like to earn some more?
Linc has his thinking face on, and it looks like it might hurt a little. They can’t take the tape to the press; it’ll just get buried like their last attempt. Michael remembers that Aldo had some people on the inside, so Linc decides to call Jane, you know, the pretty blonde lady from Aldo’s gang who’s been taking care of LJ all this time. Oh right! LJ! Anyway, Linc knows she can help, and Michael hopes so, cause this is their last shot. Honestly, Michael, this is like your 17th Last Shot. I’m sure there will be more.
Kellerman is in a trailer park or something, buying a bigass rifle out of the trunk of a car. Nice. I love how Kellerman is not out of place anywhere – like he buys firearms out of car trunks so much he’s almost bored. The totally legitimate salesman talks it up, careful to mention that the serial number has been shaved off and the barrel sanded down to throw off ballistics, on the off chance that Kellerman plans on shooting anything more felonious than tin cans. Kellerman says he’s hunting bigger game. Bigger, blonder, Bitchfacier game. He’s all “wrap it up!” He’s sort of farting around in the trunk, which the guy doesn’t notice cause he’s counting his giant wad of cash. He also fails to notice that Kellerman is actually loading a handgun with a silencer. And wow, this show has made me a horrible person, because when Kellerman just unceremoniously turns and plugs him right in the heart – Pyyyeoow! – I say “Oh-ho-ho yeah!” out loud. It’s shameful.
It is around this point when I realize the following: My friend Blayne is friends with Danny Strong , who is on Gilmore Girls with Liza Weil , who is married to…Paul Adelstein! So anyone reading this sentence can legitimately claim to be within six degrees of Kellerman. You’re welcome. I’ll give you a moment to let the implications sink in.
C-Note is sitting in front of a laptop too, only instead of an implausibly swanky hotel room, he’s in an interrogation room wearing his prison orange. Aww. He’s on europeangoldfinch.net. He overheard Michael telling Sucre to use the bulletin board there to get in contact with him, so he posted a sad little “My girl is sick” message. Mahone’s all, I get your wife out of jail and your kid into dialysis and all you’ve got is a url you could have emailed us? But no, Michael will trust C-Note. If Mahone sets something up he’ll know it’s a trick. They both know how smart Michael is. Mahone opines that obviously he’s smarter than C-Note, because see above re: orange jumpsuit. C-Note says “Oh yeah?” like he’s ten. Mahone’s like, “Uh, chhyeah.” It’s actually pretty funny. They yell over each other for awhile until Mahone reminds C-Note that he’s the only one trying to help his family. If C-Note doesn’t deliver, Mahone is going to have to kill him, and Mahone is like, so over killing people for the government right now. He gave Dede a damn teddy bear! But yeah, also, C-Note is being a total bitch. He ends the pissing contest with “Now get out my face.” Alas, there is no clear winner. Rematch!
At a cute little suburban cottage in Pullman, Washington, a phone rings, and it’s LJ! Aww. He’s genuinely happy to hear from Linc, but kind of hurt that he hasn’t called before now. And yeah, that does seem kind of harsh, but I guess it hasn’t been as long as it seems – maybe only a couple of weeks? Also, Linc understates, “it’s been dangerous.” LJ, having been hit by several cars this season, gets it. Linc’s all “so we have this tape now and it’s all going to be okay so I’ll be there to pick you up in just a sec!” But LJ has had the absolute worst year ever, and gently says he just wants to do normal kid things like school for awhile.
Now it’s Linc’s turn to be hurt, but yeah, I mean, when any given day has you narrowly avoiding death at least once or twice, maybe you’re not the best guardian for the time being. It’s sad, but I totally buy it. Go on, LJ, drink too much Peach Schnapp’s and make out with a slutty cheerleader behind the bleachers like a normal teenager. Linc will come for you when he’s not being actively hunted by the entire country. Linc’s kind of pouty but he can’t really argue with that logic. He just tells LJ he loves him and asks for Jane.
Birmingham, Alabama. T-Bag, by which I mean “Mr. Webster,” is talking to the back of a head. Get it? Webster? Like the dictionary from last week? Maybe? Probably not the sitcom. We eventually realize this head belongs to a therapist. T-Bag is glad the doctor could see him on such short notice, but the doc says that’s what he’s here for. “Good,” sneers T-Bag. “Cause I got a few things I need to get off my chest.” He goes from “Aw, Shucks” to “Muahaha!” In the time it took him to utter that sentence.
Linc is getting off the phone with Jane. The imaginary offscreen conversation has resulted in a name: Cooper Green. He’s a former Deputy Attorney General. Jane says he’s been an ally of Aldo’s forever. “Cooper Green’s office!” a receptionist chirps brightly. Michael, who I would think would be a bit more discreet, says it’s important: He has information on the sons of Aldo Burroughs. The receptionist gets all shifty-eyed and says she’ll try to reach him. A man we assume is Green eventually answers. Michael breathily asks if he knows who this is, and he says of course, he knew his father. “He was a good man trying to do good things.” Michael says they have something. Immediately he’s all “the tape?” He says everyone’s been trying to get their hands on that thing, and you know, wow, I hope Michael the genius criminal mastermind thought to like, make some copies, for heaven’s sake. Control-S, Michael! Did they teach you that in engineering school?
Anyway, he asks what’s on it, and Michael sets a giant obstacle course in motion by telling him to go to a certain statue in the park across the street from their impossibly posh hotel. Sara wishes him good luck as he leaves. She squeezes his hand but she can’t even make eye contact with him, like she’s afraid she’d be unable to stop herself from just leaping up and climbing him like a coconut tree. I know the feeling, Dr. Sara. “This’ll work.” Says Linc, trying to comfort her. “Ya think?” she snarks irritably, and ha! I’m sorry I ever thought you were boring. She stares dreamily at her dad’s key, and dammit, don’t you dare go…to the cemetery. Sara goes to the damn cemetery, because no one would think to look for her there. No, of course someone’s watching, and it’s Bennett, who Sara called right after she found her dad’s body, and right before she was shot at on a Chicago street corner. He quickly explains that his phone was bugged, he swears he didn’t tell anyone where she was that day and he did not kill her father. Sara: “For what it’s worth, I’ve been tortured already. It didn’t work.” Ha! I love Bitter Sardonic Dr. Sara. If she doesn’t trust him, he says, all he can do is wish her luck. She stares at him, sizing him up.
Poor, poor Sucre’s Doughy Cousin. Once again he’s led in to a cell to be glared at menacingly by Bellick. He starts right away with “I played rat for you once, but I’m not afraid of you, I’ve got protection now, etc.”, but Bellick just starts tossing photos down on to the table of some awesome cushy minimum-security prison with pool tables and plasma TVs. Bellick “I didn’t come here to threaten. Why whip the mule when he’ll work even harder for a sugarcube?” Now would he perchance know where in Mexico one Fernando Sucre would run off to?
Answer: Rio Juárez! A rickety old truck pulls up a long rural driveway. Sucre and Maricruz and their precious, precious fetus are riding on the tailgate, presumably having jostled their way down from Ixtapa, which is probably totally great for morning sickness. Exactly how pregnant is she supposed to be, anyway, if Sucre’s the Baby Daddy? Are we to assume she was impregnated on a conjugal visit? Anyway, he calls her “Mami” and gets all excited about the llamas, which she is pretty sure are alpacas. An incredibly happy woman runs out of the house to greet him. Sucre introduces his Auntie to his Maricruz and their little niño. Her casa es their casa, she beams.
T-Bag is delivering quite the speech to the still faceless therapist. He’s just a penny on a track, and he keeps getting rolled over, but he just won’t flatten! Well, as flowery metaphors go it’s no Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, but A for effort. Dr. Backhead tells Mr. Webster that the good thing about pennies is that they have dates, and his date can be today! He can be a brand new shiny penny! Somebody give this man a call-in show, toute suite! T-Bag grins with genuine mirth, “you know, I had no intention whatsoever of talking to you once I got in this office” he says, like it’s the punchline of a joke about a guy walking in to a bar. “I have to admit, I find therapy…therapeutic!”
Dr. Backhead doesn’t get it. Robert Knepper does that incredibly effective creepy thing where he rolls his tongue around over his front teeth. Well, T-Bag saw the doc’s ad at a bus stop, and “you can’t deny that there’s a certain commonality in our visages.” And kudos to whoever studies hours and hours of E.B. Farnum soliloquies and Johnnie Cochran interviews in order to write his dialogue, because it is just fantastic. Also, kudos for throwing in that whole dictionary/thesaurus aspect to the Evil Daddy plotline last week, so we have some background not only for his murderous pervitude but also his unconventionally broad vocabulary, all in one fell swoop. We finally see the Doc’s face, and I guess they sort of look alike. It’s enough for T-Bag, anyway, who rises to his feet, calmly grabs a conveniently hefty piece of abstract sculpture, and brings it down on the Doc’s head, hard. We cut to a shot of blood and goo splattering on to a coffee cup, and I gleefully say “Thwack!” out loud. What have you done to me, Prison Break?
The wacky obstacle course is just getting started as Green arrives at the statue Michael told him to go to. Linc, watching from the window, calls the pay phone next to the statue. He tells the guy to take off his jacket and put it in the trash can. He obliges with minimum bitchery. Linc then tells him to run across the park where he’s instructed to get in the fountain. He’s annoyed, but he does it. Linc spots a couple of suits hovering around and calls Michael.
It’s what they thought – “He’s being tailed.” The tailers see Green in the fountain and one of them sort of exposits “They want to drown the mikes in case we bugged him.” I’m glad he cleared that up, but it does ruin the fun a little. Once he’s soaking wet he climbs out, and a seriously cute kid walks up to him with a cellphone. Green’s all “get away, urchin!” but the kid says some guy paid him $20 to give this to the first wet white guy he saw. Heh. Immediately it starts to ring and Linc sends him in to a museum and through hallways down to a basement, where Michael is lurking.
The tailers, by the way, are keeping Agent Kim posted on the whole fiasco, who in turn tells Mahone the boys are in Chicago. Mahone is puzzled. Kim: “You’re asking why the deer walked into your crosshairs? Just take the shot!” Mahone grudgingly says he’s on it. Oh, and Alex? About Franklin? Mahone says C-Note’s helping him, but Kim’s like, bitch please, they’re across town, we don’t need his help anymore. What Kim does need is a death with no questions. He probably has a “Why can’t I ever get a death with no questions? Arrrgh! Mondays!” Ziggy poster up in his cubicle.
C-Note’s staring at the laptop. “It’s nothing yet but I’m sure he’ll hit me back real soon” he pleads. Mahone stands there, trying to find words. He’s absolutely churning with guilt. “You know,” he stammers, “if I were in your situation, everything you’ve done, every decision you’ve made, I would have done the same thing.” This disarming sincerity throws C-Note for a loop and he looks up from the computer all “whatchoo talkin’ bout, Mahone?” Mahone just tells him he’s a good man, a good father. He looks like he’s trying not to throw up.
There’s been a change of plans, he says. He’s not going to need C-Note’s help anymore. C-Note is devastated, and it breaks my heart, again! Mahone, gently and mumbly: “I just wanted to let you know I’ll keep my promise to you. I’ll help your family. But I’m going to need your help too. And it’s something you’re really not going to want to do.” The weirder this conversation gets, the more alarm bells go off for C-Note. Mahone is obviously completely furious with C-Note for being such a nice guy. “You’re not going to want to do it, but you have to, and if you don’t…I’ll have Kacee arrested and I’ll have Dede’s treatment stopped, and I’ll hate myself but I’ll do it, I swear to God. I’ll ruin their lives; don’t make me.” This whole speech is way, way sadder than it is scary. Mahone says to expect a package from him later today, and to use it, or he’ll wish he had. C-Note’s all “what’s in the box? What’s in the box?!” like Brad Pitt at the end of Seven, but Mahone can’t handle it anymore and just leaves him sitting there to stew in his own creeping horror and panic.
Meanwhile, Sara has decided to trust Bennett. He and Cooper Green go way back. They walk up to Green’s shady receptionist but before she can fake them out too there’s a voice behind them: “Bruce!” Bennett introduces them: Sara Tancredi, Cooper Green. Who is totally not the guy in a museum basement with Michael right now. Sara shakes his hand: “I trust you’ve met with Michael Scoffield and Lincoln Burroughs?” He’s pretty sure he’d remember if he had. D’oh. If this were an 80s sitcom, we’d get a spit take and a “wahh wahh wahhhhh!” from the soundtrack. Linc and Michael, for all their bug-drowning and surveillance, are at the mercy of a Faux Green.
Sara immediately calls Linc, who takes off running full speed across the park and through the museum. Michael walks out the back door with Not!Green, who’s all “so hey, about that tape! Gimme!” Michael holds up the memory stick and Faux Green salivates. He invents a judge he wants to bring the tape to, but they have to go to him. Faux Green is asthmatic, and his inhaler was in the jacket they made him throw in the trash. He’s got a spare one in his car, though, so let’s just go there! Your mom told me to pick you up! Michael is as suspicious as I am but manages to look sort of chastened. He’s sorry, they’ve been through a lot, and pop quiz: what asthma meds are you on? Not!Green acts all offended: “How many times do I have to prove myself to you?” Michael: “Just one.” He finally answers, and Michael seems satisfied. That is, until he just grabs the dude by the shoulders and slams his forehead in to the nearest Dumpster! Wham! Welcome back, Angry Michael. He also gets in a nice kick to the face before Linc finally catches up to him, out of breath and looking a little disappointed that Michael did all the smashing and kicking without him.
T-Bag, by which I mean Dr. Stammel, is at the check-in counter at the airport. He’s wearing the unfortunate doc’s little round John Lennon glasses. “One way ticket to Bangkok, s’il vous plait!” Of course. I mean, where else would he go besides the world capital of shady surgery AND child prostitution? The only flight today has a few stops, but Dr. T can’t really stick around very long so he’ll take his chances on whatever leaves first. The baggage guy grabs Dr. T’s gigantic sack of cash, but Dr. T makes kind of a fuss about checking it. And I know you’re in a hurry, but maybe pop over to the duty free shop and get a real suitcase right quick? Or at least a duffel bag that stays closed? Dr. T reluctantly allows them to check it for him.
Kellerman and his zippy uppy jacket are sitting in a car, listening to radio reports about President Bitchface’s Chicago appearance. He fondles some seriously impressive ammunition. It’s not quite as dirty as it sounds. We cut to an office, where a woman’s voice is saying “I know you’re new here, but we use both sides of the paper.” I immediately want to punch her, but that might be left over from when she played Maggie on Six Feet Under. (Narm!) “The Comanche used the entire buffalo; so can we.” She’s interrupted by a voice behind her: “Actually, the majority of tribes would farm the land until it was stripped of its fertility…” And it’s totally Kellerman! He’s trying to be cool but a really sincere grin starts breaking through and by the time he’s finished with his speech about white liberal guilt he’s totally beaming at her. “Paul.” “Hi, Kristine.” Aw, it’s his sister he told Linc about last week. She was hoping to see him at Dad’s funeral, but he says the guy was dead long before his heart stopped, and the funeral was just a formality. Yeah, that’s our Kellerman alright! She carefully asks if he wants to know how Mom is, and he responds thusly: “Just because someone spits you out of their crotch doesn’t make them your mother.” Whoa! I hope someone cross-stitched that on to a pillowcase for her.
Anyway, Kristine knows she’s a crazy person. She was there – he’s the one who left, when she was ten and he was all she had in the world. He tells her he’s sorry – if he could have taken her with him, he would have, and he’s thought about her every day. He grabs her face affectionately, but also like maybe he’s kind of forgotten how to be affectionate. Eventually he just says “I’m not the brother you remember. I’ve changed. In a…really bad way.” Ha. You don’t say. He doesn’t know what good or bad is anymore, but he has to do something that a lot of people will think is horrible. She starts to interrupt him but he says “Just remember the brother you grew up with.” And aww. See, he’s a monster, but at least he owns up to it! I’m such an enabler when it comes to Kellerman. “You’re my sister, Kristine. I love you,” he says simply, and walks away.
Faux Green is in the park with Mahone and the tailers from earlier. Mahone verifies that it was their idea, not his, to meet right in the middle of downtown Chicago. He calls Secret Asian Man for guidance. “You brought me in too late,” Mahone says. “They’re gone.” Kim: “Well, find them.” Mahone, because he is a smart cookie and just can’t help putting two and two together, wonders aloud why they would show their faces 15 minutes from Fox River. Kim says duh, cause President Bitchface is there and they’re up to no good. “And of all people, they want to meet with someone from the Attorney General’s office,” Mahone says, genuinely amused by how this fiasco keeps getting more and more fiasco-tastic. “Your point?” Kim snits. “Burroughs is innocent?” Mahone suggests, like he’s guessing a Quiz Bowl answer, but as soon as it’s out of his mouth he realizes he’s right. Kim pretends to give a crap that Mahone’s figured this out, but doesn’t actually confirm, just says that no one is truly innocent, and Mahone of all people should know that. A low blow, but effective. Have I mentioned William Fichtner is awesome? I should make a macro for that sentence.
Michael and Linc are back in the hotel room. They freak out when there’s a knock at the door, but it’s Sara and the real Green. Michael Scoffield, Cooper Green, she says, all business, and what, no “I sure am glad you weren’t captured by nefarious government agents”? Or is that just kind of understood at this point?
The library cart comes around to C-Note’s cell, but instead of a book, he’s handed a cardboard box. He sits down, braces himself, and opens it to find a FREAKING NOOSE. I mean, not some sheets tied in to a noose but an actual lynching rope, and Mahone maybe could be a little more culturally sensitive when it comes to choosing the instruments of his forced suicides. C-Note, unsurprisingly, is horrified.
Blah blah Sucre Maricruz blah blah. All you need to know about this scene is that yes, in case you hadn’t noticed, Sucre loves Maricruzzzzz. I mean wow. They totally love each other, okay? They’re all post-coital and icky and they both claim to feel the baby kicking, which, again with the weird timeline here, but no matter how pregnant she’s supposed to be, with that teeny little stomach the only thing they’re feeling is like, peristalsis. Sucre jinxes them real good by saying they’re safe, they’re in the middle of nowhere, no one will ever find them, certainly not for example Brad Bellick.
Cut immediately to an airplane. The pilot is on the loudspeaker with a comically exaggerated Mexican accent so we know the plane is going to Mexico. And sure enough, shoved quite hilariously into a middle seat between two rather large gentlemen, is Bellick. Ha. I like how the Feds can afford private jets whenever Kim needs to hop over to Chicago, but their Junkyard Dog gets stuck in Coach. Bellick obviously hasn’t flown in awhile, cause he asks when the meal is coming. The flight attendant recites that as part of cost-cutting measures, blah blah, no lunch for you, just pretzels. Bellick grumpily demands his pretzel ration and she grumpily heads off to oblige. As she passes through the special First Class curtain, we see T-Bag, presumably on his way to one of those international stops before Bangkok. He lifts his sleep mask up over his eyes and holds out his champagne flute: “Freshen me up when you have a chance, darlin’?” She’s all smiles for Dr. T. “Sure, Dr. Stammel!” she says coyly. Ha!
C-Note gets a visit from Kacee. Dede’s doing really well, and it’s because of him. I mean, it’s because of him that she got this sick in the first place, but Kacee is a saint and leaves that part out. They then proceed to have the absolute most depressing conversation in the history of ever. C-Note needs to know that she forgives him. He’s sobbing, begging her to tell Dede he loves her, and he’s so, so sorry, and she means everything to him. Kacee doesn’t really understand what’s going on, but she keeps humoring and comforting him. By the time visiting hour is over C-Note is a total fucking wreck. He loves them, please, remember that no matter what happens. She’s kind of freaked out but just tells him not to worry as he falls to pieces on her shoulder.
Yay, the President! Everyone’s assembled for the speech and there are signs and streamers and the sorts of things you see when Presidents are in town. An incongruously bright-eyed, bushy-tailed and clean-shaven Kellerman strolls up to a Secret Service Agent. Kellerman’s wearing a suit, and awww. I love Scruffy Loose Cannon Kellerman as much as the next guy, but I have a genuine touch of nostalgia at the sight of Season One LJ-Mom-Killing Kellerman. Because I am a terrible person. The agent initially freaks out, but Kellerman’s all “whoa, whoa, easy there.” He flashes his multi-agency badge and starts with the “hey, we’re all Secret Service agents here, right?” lingo. “We got a boom Charlie blah blah something shop talk blah blah.” “What’s the MO?” asks our doomed friend. “He’s got an IED strapped to his PYYEOW!” Kellerman just plugs the guy mid-sentence, and I actually honest-to-goodness cackle. I cackle, people!
Meanwhile, Mahone’s figuring out that Michael and Linc chose that park for a reason, namely, so they could watch Faux Green at all times. He looks around for a building with a clear view to all the places on the obstacle course and settles on the totally exact right hotel. Dammit.
The Real Cooper Green has just listened to the mystery tape, and is impressed. All he has to do is get the timestamp and other info from the memory stick so he can get it labeled and put into the proper chain of evidence. Then they all go out for margaritas! No, his face falls as he realizes the timestamp is from the day this copy was made, not when the conversation was recorded. The fact that Steadman can be heard on it is pretty much irrelevant without proof it was recorded after his “murder.” D’oh. I bet Kellerman would be so tickled to know he tortured Sara for no reason! Sara doesn’t seem to appreciate the irony very much.
Mahone runs in to the hotel lobby. The girl at the front desk recognizes Sara’s photo and gives him the room number. Mahone takes the stairs for some reason, even though they’re on the tenth floor.
Michael says this is not over. Evidently the actual content of the conversation is also interesting. More specifically, but not too specifically, the conversation contains proof of a certain blonde Bitchface-in-Chief’s guilt in something she would never want released to the public. It’s enough to use as blackmail to secure Presidential Pardons. See, just as we’re all cheering Kellerman’s assassination attempt, they have to throw in this whole “The President is the one who can save us!” thing and now I’m all panicky. Hey, did anyone get Kellerman’s cell number before we locked him out of the Family Truckster™ and sped away? No? Yeah, probably should have done that, huh.
Kellerman settles down on a ledge looking out over the park where Bitchface is speaking. He’s snagged the little coily earpiece thing from the dead guy, and he crouches down, loading his bigass gun. I am ashamed, ashamed by how hot it is. He locks and loads, baby, locks and loads!
Oh crap. C-Note is standing on his bed with the damn noose around his neck. He is so fucking sad. He says “I love you” and falls forward, and the screen goes black. You bitches! Okay, this very well might be the saddest death of the entire series. But it’s also possible that it’s all a ploy by Mahone to get him on suicide watch, so he can buy himself some time with Kim. Right? Mahone sent the rope, who knows what he did to it? He could have called and tipped off the guards! And C-Note totally didn’t do it the right neck-snapping way, he did it the slow strangulation way, so he’s got like 2 minutes to hang there and have somebody find him. Right? These things are all technically possible! I maintain that this is all totally plausible, although he sure isn’t in the previews. Dag, yo. Between this and Heroes, Monday was a seriously weepy evening in my household.
The previews for next week, once again, are awesome, but to avoid spoiling the spoiler-sensitive, I will say only this: it’s called “Sweet Caroline.” Sweeeet.