Oh, the wackiness that is sure to ensue with this zany duo!
So remember how Self turned out to be a total bastard? Yeah, turns out he’s a real piece of work. Not one of those conflicted, desperate villains this show is so fond of, just a plain old bastard. So surely his boss at the DHS will be totally eager to rectify this situation and get the Superfriends the immunity they were promised, right? Right?2.13 Deal Or No Deal. So everybody’s still kind of reeling from the whole Self thing, and by “whole Self thing” I mean “the thing where he totally played them and made them do his dirty work and then left them holding an envelope full of blank paper, and by the way, Michael’s brain is about to explode.” Sucre’s response is denial: “They’re just late!” Linc’s response is – wait for it – smashing things. LINC HATE OFFICE SUPPLIES! Meanwhile, Self drags poor dead Booberella off to hide her away in the scrapyard, and you know, this isn’t some conflicted desperate kind of evil, this is serious hardcore evil. The transformation is rather impressive, and hooray for Michael Rapaport being able to do his patented “obnoxious bastard” thing. Anyway, so he calls his boss Herb Stanton back at the office and puts on a little show. “It was…Scofield and Burrows! **gasp** I’m shot! **groan** Burrows, no!” then he fires a couple of shots in the air and hangs up. Wow. That is a dick move of the highest caliber, Don Self. You should be proud. T-Bag is still handcuffed to the back of Booberella’s car, listening to all this and freaking out. Ha. I like T-Bag best when he’s comic relief, which is a weird thing to say about a one-handed pervert murderer. Self tells him he can either help him find Gretchen, or he can shoot him in the face. “H-hh-help!” T-Bag responds.
At the saddest conference table in the world, Sucre wonders if Self really was Homeland Security after all, but Mahone says they were given guns and flown out on a C-130, so he probably was. Mahone and I are both remembering how Self was so insistent on doing everything off the books, and all the other little things that are adding up to a totally plausible plot twist that works beautifully in retrospect, to the point that I feel stupid for not seeing it coming a mile away. That is the difference between a stupid plot twist and an awesome one. Are you paying attention, Heroes? One thing is certain: Homeland Security knows where they are, so they should probably have this conversation elsewhere.
The conference room of Muahahaha & Associates, Inc. is bustling. Baldy keeps trying to take control, but one of the Cardholders whose name I can’t remember is all smirky, interrupting him and telling him to cut to the chase: do they know where Scylla is? “It’s a yes or no question, Jonathan. We don’t need a soliloquy.” Smirky McSmuggypants obviously didn’t take any theater classes in college or he’d know that what he interrupted was in fact a monologue. Sheesh, someone should shoot this guy. Baldy tells him to shut up and go away, but old Snarky Sneerington says no, he’s here to make sure this operation isn’t botched like the last one. He’s very pleased with himself, right up until the moment Baldy just stands up calmly and shoots him in the gut right in front of everybody. (The gut seems to be the gunshot wound location of choice on this show.) Well. You’ve certainly made your point, General! It’s sort of a messy point, though, so I hope somebody has a ShamWowâ„¢ or something. Lisa looks like she’s about to throw up. So make that two ShamWowâ„¢s.
“Nobody misuses dramaturgical vocabulary in my boardroom!
In the Warehouse bathroom, Michael shoves a ceiling tile out of the way and hides a tiny little nub of some kind. You see, while he was fidgeting around with Scylla at the General’s desk, waiting for Sara to call, Michael, because he is awesome, dislodged a little connecty thing of some kind and slipped it in his pocket. Leverage! Linc walks in as he’s having another one of his seizures, and yeah, that’s gonna be a problem soon. Linc says he promised LJ yesterday that this would be over soon, and he’s going to keep his word. LJ shoutout! Gotta throw one of those in every 6-8 episodes to appease the Continuity Gods.
So sure enough, Stanton and some other Homeland Security guys raid the warehouse looking for the escaped cons who allegedly killed the totally upstanding and noble Agent Don Self. Michael et al are watching from the wharf. Stanton calls Michael and tells him to surrender, because dude, you think you can steal a zillion dollar thingamabob and kill two DHS agents and still get your immunity deal? And this is the point at which they realize that Self fucked them over even more thoroughly than they thought a few minutes ago.
So everybody’s back in a cheap crappy hotel room, which despite the lack of stylish Scandinavian office furniture is still probably more comfortable than the warehouse. So hey! That’s something! I hope Sara gets a bubble bath. Things are rather tense, with Linc all yelly, furious and annoyed that the others aren’t as furious and annoyed as he is. Sara’s like “Linc. You can’t take down all of Homeland Security,” but Linc figures he might as well try. Michael says it’s okay, all they have to do is flush out Self, which sounds kind of gross. Sucre thinks they’re all on crack, because duh, Mexico is like two hours from here, problem solved! Justice Schmustice, let’s get the hell out of Dodge! Michael says he can’t go back to constantly looking over his shoulder. Although it’s a very nice shoulder. The point is they finish what they started. Michael’s righteousness is interrupted by Alternate Universe Fox News: Some guy named Cole Pfeiffer went batshit nuts at work and killed a nice man.
Speaking of shooting people at work, Lisa is still pretty freaked out about her daddy shooting Smug Smirkyton, Mayor of Snarktown earlier just to make a point. I don’t want to go back and look up his name, folks. The point is he wasn’t just some guy, he was their colleague in evil, one of the six cardholders even. General Daddy says hey, this is how we roll, if you don’t have the stomach for it, there’s the door.
Ha. T-Bag, riding shotgun to a genuinely scary Self, sums it up for us: “Tell me when I’m getting warm: You handpicked Michael Scofield and the bunch, trucked em all the way out here on Uncle Sam’s dime to do your bidding, and now they’re standin right in the crosshairs for something you did.” Yep, that’s pretty much the first half of Season 4! Sounds pretty cool when you put it that way.
“You know, I can’t help but notice all the hot sweaty intercourse we’re NOT having in this empty hotel room.”
Sara gives Michael another anti-seizure injection. She tells him he’s sick, this is dangerous, you’ve been taking care of all of us, now let us take care of you. But Michael says it doesn’t matter, because if he doesn’t take the Company down, he won’t be able to live with himself anyway.
Gretchen finds the Chinese gangster massacre Self and Booberella left behind, and gets a surprisingly civil call from Linc (see a couple episodes ago re: my lack of objection to an unhealthy hate-based Linc-Gretchen hookup). Neither of them know where Scylla is, but Linc has the pleasure of telling her who it’s with. Gretchen thinks they should start by looking for Self’s new buyer. Linc responds with “If you’re playing me I’m gonna split you in half.” Ooh, settle down now you two! Get a room! They agree to meet, and Gretchen’s phone rings again. It’s her sister, ashen-faced, saying that her kid’s been in an accident. Gretchen just frowns and says “tell whoever’s pointing that gun at you to grow a pair and get on the phone.” Heh. New Evil Self takes the phone and tells Gretchen it’s time to come home. This is all Booberella’s fault, by the way, for giving T-Bag access to Gretchen’s real live rap sheet with her real live sister’s real live address.
Sucre doesn’t like the idea of trusting Gretchen, and also realizes that hey, why the hell did she and T-Bag have machine guns in that office in the first place? Linc says she’ll do anything to get what she wants, and right now they want the same thing. Mahone, because he is awesome and smart, knows that they have a real advantage with Homeland Security – it’s too sensitive a story to leak, so they’re not doing a full-scale manhunt, and that buys them some time.
Stanton meets with Senator Dallow to discuss Operation: Clusterfuck. They agree with Mahone that their secrecy is working against them. Stanton points out that very few people even know this little plan existed. There’s a knock on the door – it’s a guy from the US Marshall Service who says he needs to sort out this Scofield-Burrows “Imaginary Supermax prison” situation. Stanton and Dallow look at each other and decide hey, why the hell not. “How strong is your stomach?” asks Stanton, who is getting scarier. Meanwhile, Baldy adds Stanton’s headshot to the Company’s “People We Really Should Have Killed By Now” collage.
The Scooby Gang is scattered around the park where they’re supposed to meet Gretchen, and boy are they ever paranoid. Everybody’s got a walkie talkie even, and they’re all super suspicious and totally prepared for anything! Even, for example, a Homeland Security ambush!
Oh, Emily. You are going to need SO much therapy.
Gretchen is not at the park yet because she’s at her sister Rita’s house, which is also her daughter’s house, which is also the house where T-Bag and Self are waiting for her with big scary guns. Self is pissed off because it’s Gretchen’s fault he doesn’t have a buyer. Well technically it’s Booberella’s fault since she’s the one who shot Feng, but Gretchen’s the one who set them up, so she’s gonna help him sell Syclla. He grabs her phone and sees she’s been talking to Linc. She says yes, the boys are rather angry, and no, she doesn’t know where they are, she’s not their mother. Oh, but someone whose mother she is is sitting over at a table scared shitless, and in waaay too close proximity to T-Bag for my taste. Gretchen says she’s supposed to be meeting them soon and gives T-Bag the location so he can totally tattle on them to Homeland Security. Michael is on a park bench, remembering all the the suspicious bullshit Self pulled that’s completely obvious once it’s edited together in blue flashback form. He calls Stanton: If they get him Self, and Scylla, will they hold up their end of the deal? Before he can get a real answer, he notices that the siren he hears over Stanton’s phone is driving right by him. It’s a trap! Everybody runs but the Feds manage to collar, of all people, Linc. Noooo, Linc, don’t go back to prison! I’m sorry I made fun of your Hulkish rage! But it’s okay for now – he’s not in prison, he’s back at the familiar Warehouse of Justice, at the Conference Table of Truth, being grilled by Stanton and a couple of his minions. And this is where I love Linc’s constant, unrelenting, impatient annoyance with absolutely everything, because he keeps interrupting them mid-threat to yell at them, “Oh my god, why are you even talking to me? It’s Self you want, just spend ten seconds looking into it, for fucksakes!”
Michael calls Gretchen, and she hands the phone over to Self, who smugly asserts that he really does think Michael is a smart guy, but he himself is just a little bit smarter. Oooh, them’s fightin words. Also, Michael Rapaport gets an A+ for his sudden shift from slightly dicky Fed to thoroughly sadistic bastard. Gretchen has an idea of someone who might be interested in Scylla, so she agrees to take Self to him, but T-Bag stays behind with Rita and little Emily. Rita responds to this turn of events by smacking Gretchen upside the head. Ha. Gretchen knows she had it coming, and calmly tells Rita that everything will be fine, she promises they won’t hurt her. Rita retorts with another smack in the face. Right on, Rita.
And oh, thank Christ for this development: Linc’s exasperated rantings seem to have resonated with Senator Dallow, who confirms that a cursory check of Self’s records revealed some sketchy behavior, like for example a bank account in the Caymans, AKA the World Capital of Money People Aren’t Supposed to Have, and a fake name and a one-way ticket out of the country. So whew, I was not looking forward to six more episodes of trying to prove their innocence. Dallow actually apologizes to Linc, and says that when they do get ahold of Self, it will be paramount to get his help. Linc makes a “whatchoo talkin bout, Senator?” face that looks like he probably doesn’t know what “paramount” means.
“LINC NO UNDERSTAND WHY OLD MAN TALK ABOUT MOVIE PRODUCTION COMPANY! LINC HURT HIS BRAINBONE!
The point is, Homeland Security needs their testimony to cover their asses. If the whole gang comes back to the Warehouse to tell their story, they can have their immunity. “What if they won’t? We got a whole bunch of trust issues,” Linc understates hilariously. It’s either this or prison, Dallow says. A familiar dilemma. Linc calls the rest of the Superfriends to discuss this, and Dallow promises Michael his troubles are over if he’ll just testify. Sadly, they are too far apart to seal it with a pinkie swear. Michael gives Sucre and Sara an address where they’ll meet up with the Senator, he and Mahone have some recon to do and they’ll be right behind. Before they leave, Sara tells Michael that this whole “chasing justice at any cost” tendency is what ultimately made her mom leave her dad. Aw, Governer Tancredi, you were hands down the least evil political figure in the entire Prison Break universe. Anyway, she says that won’t happen with her. He can have his little savior complex and when he’s done she’ll be right there waiting for him.
Oh, and just in case you hadn’t noticed Self is an evil piece of shit: they’re sitting in his car waiting to hear from her dealer guy, and Gretchen gets a little smart with him, saying that once he’s done patting himself on the back from his Tahiti beachhouse, he’ll look around and realize he’s just as alone as he is now. That’s the real Don Self. In response, Don says nothing, just calls T-Bag and instructs him to put the gun to Rita’s head and pull the hammer back. T-Bag is creepily compliant. Self’s point is this: He wants his money. Gretchen should be quiet and find him a buyer or her family will get to know “the real Don Self.” Gretchen gets a text message from her guy just in time to calm him down.
Sara and Sucre pull up in a taxi to the address Michael gave them for the meetup with the Senator. It’s a parking lot by the bus depot. Mahone pops out and apologizes for the deception, but says that if they want to get his done, they’re all going to have to do their part, and right now their part is to get far far out of the way and let Michael do his. Mahone gets on a bus and Sara and Sucre just stand there all slack-jawed.
Michael’s part, of course, is to stroll into the warehouse and sit next to Linc, blowing off Dallow’s bullshit “your country thanks you!” handshake attempt. He means bidness. Let’s do this thing.
“Look, we don’t have time for the ‘who loves Michael more?’ conversation right now!”
Sara and Sucre still don’t have any idea what to do. Well, Sucre’s pretty okay with leaving, actually, but Sara isn’t. Michael wants them safe, but he might need help too, dammit. If they leave now, they’re leaving Michael behind. This strikes a nerve in poor, loyal Sucre. He can’t leave his Papi behind!
Dallow and Stanton are outside the warehouse discussing their options. The crooked DHS agent story is even more damaging than the wanted felon contractors story. There might be jail time involved. The Superfriends, like many unfortunates before them, simply Know Too Much.â„¢ Stanton figures “this doesn’t have to be about containment anymore. It can be about excision.” “Muahahahaha,” he fails to add, failing to twirl his mustache and stroke a fluffy white cat. But he might as well have. Dallow doesn’t say “That’s a great idea!” but he doesn’t say “You’re a crazy asshole!” either. So Stanton wants to kill them all, and the Senator just wants to go home so he’s not going to argue.
Back inside, Stanton’s sitting down with a couple of other agents and the US Marshall from earlier, all “so I thought you said your friends were coming? Cause you know, I just want to make sure we have enough cookies and I’d really love to meet everybody and totally not kill them at all.” Michael says nope, he and Linc will talk and that’s all they need. Everybody else stays out of it. Stanton says that’s not what the deal was, and Michael’s like, ptthbbt, there never was a deal, was there? Stanton I guess has had a long day so he doesn’t even bother feigning innocence. When they won’t give the others up, he pulls out a gun and tells the Marshall and the other agents to step out a moment. He has the gun at Michael’s head, counting to five. One, two, three, POW POW POW! It’s Stanton who gets shot. Michael and Linc turn around to see that their hero is the US Marshall guy. “You have an appointment with the General,” he says. Well, shit.
Sucre and Sara are back at the warehouse. Sucre goes in to check it out, and Sara stays behind cause she’s the girl. Or she’s the only one who’s not an experienced criminal, that works too. Anyway, Sucre hears the fake (or real but evil?) US Marshall ordering Michael, Linc and Senator Dallow out, and sneaks up behind him. Linc is able to swipe his gun, and immediately shoots him – wait for it – in the gut. I mean, that’s self defense, sure, but man, he did not hesitate, and he does not stop to think about it. In fact, he turns the gun on the Senator, who’s all “it was Stanton who was going to kill you! I was just going to watch! No hard feelings!” Michael talks Linc down ([dog whisperer] Tssschhh! [/dog whisperer]) and the Senator is all “Christ on a cracker, can’t I just go home?” He says look, it’s way less complicated now that one less person knows about it. And he’s not saying a word. So, change of plans! Nobody kills anybody and I go home and eat some Cheerios, for fucksakes. He tells them where to find the only surviving evidence of this whole thing, and if they destroy it then poof, it never happened.
“Okay, yes, so I was going to just sit there and let him kill you. But I was totally bummed about it, I swear!”
So now we’re back without a deal. Linc’s all “so does this mean we can run away now please?” Sara runs up and tells Michael she’ll kill him herself next time he pulls that crap.
“Where’s Mahone?” Linc wonders. Sucre says he’s gone. Wait, what? He is not! He better be hitting up Agent Lang for a big favor, again, and coming back toute suite. I had to come to terms with losing Kellerman, but I don’t know if I’d survive without Mahone.
Self meets up with Gretchen’s Scylla buyer hookup guy. Turns out he’s eager to piss off the General. He asks to see it. Self hands it over and eventually the dude says yeah, he’ll buy it, as soon as he gets the rest of it. [nelson muntz] Ha ha! [/nelson muntz] The rest of it! It’s missing that teeny little nubby thing Michael snagged and hid in the ceiling! Awesome. When Gretchen hears this, she smiles just a teeny bit. Michael, you rascal! Who wins the smartypants contest now, Don? He calls Michael, “I believe you have something that belongs to me.” “Come and get it!” Michael snarls theatrically.
Awesome. This is getting fun. I mean, it gets boring when Michael et al are always behind the 8-ball, so I like that they’re sort of evenly matched now, and might even get an advantage if Mahone can pull some strings at the FBI. And I like how the alliances keep, um, realigning. Gretchen’s reaction to T-Bag and Self’s little hostage situation will certainly be very entertaining to watch!