Testimonials

Self is let into Baldy's office, but before he can get a word out, Baldy starts monologuing, all "How did this moment play out in your head when you rehearsed it? Did you think you would be this nervous?" Oooh, scary mindgames. Whatever. Self says he didn't think much past giving him these files. The General thumbs through them and is unimpressed. "Berlin, Nigeria, The Comrie Group," he reads. He says this is all old news. Self explains that sealed copies of these files, plus a letter summarizing his investigation of the General in these matters, were mailed to five lawyers around the country. So if anything happens to him they'll be opened. The General blows him off, saying they'll find cold trails, nothing linking him to any of it. But Self is all, ha, it doesn't matter, because if a government agent is found floating in a river somewhere and you're the guy he was investigating, there will be surveillance and media coverage and you'll have way more trouble conducting your nefarious dealings with all that attention, so how about you back off. Awesome. He even mentions Laos, and Baldy can't hide a quick "aw crap!" expression. He gathers himself and tells Self he's not the first person to come to him like this. Most of the people who have are now his colleagues. Self says thanks but no thanks, and Baldy's all "we'll see."

So back at Chez Booberella, Gretchen reads aloud from the resignation letter she's written on Andy's behalf. Andy, whose face is all kinds of fucked up, signs it and says he doesn't even know who she is, so she could just let him go. She tells him to shut up and he starts crying like a little girl. And for good reason! He's saying "I'm sorry!" as Gretchen grabs a cool piano-wire garrote and tells Bellick and Booberella to consider this a warning. We don't see her strangle him, but we hear it, but also, that's piano wire, so she very well could be slicing his neck instead. Luckily, or perhaps not, they leave that to our imagination.

T-Bag takes Michael into the Gate office, blah blah top salesman in the Northeast, blah blah. Michael ignores him completely and looks for the 8x10 room that was supposed to be Whistler's point of entry. "That's a closet," T-Bag says. "No," Michael smartmouths, "it isn't."

Poor Sara. She's sent over to the poolside bar to try to get into Cardholder #5's room, and she's all hot and cleavagey and smiley. She tells him that omg, she's so embarrassed to ask this, but she's at a bachelorette party and there's a scavenger hunt and she's supposed to get her picture taken in a "whale's suite." He's all "I'm a whale! But no, you can't come to my room, sorry." Ouch! How many undercover missions are going to involve crushing Sara's ego? The bartender tells her not to worry about it, she's not his type; apparently, before she showed up, Card Guy asked him if he wanted to party. Immediately we cut to Sucre, telling Linc "No, absolutely not!" Roland encourages him to take one for the team; Maricruz never has know! Ha. Sucre is not as amused as Roland and I are, but Linc says all he has to do is get to his room and stay there for two minutes, no funny business necessary. They don't have any other option. Sucre reluctantly takes the Data Sucker Upper and heads to the pool.

Michael digs around the storage closet, and T-Bag's like, duh, there's nothing back there, I checked. But of course Michael finds a hollow spot in the floor right away. He rips up the carpet and ta da! A trapdoor. "You and me in a dark hole," T-Bag muses. "Just like old times, pretty!" Yuck.

Damn, you make it out of Fox River with your virtue intact, and now this.

Speaking of yuck, Card Guy is laying out by the pool, wearing entirely too little clothing for a gentleman of his advanced years. Sucre puts his game face on and takes the chair next to his, removes his shirt, and starts with the small talk. Oh dear, he's broke in Vegas, whatever will he do? But hey, Card Guy might be able to help him make an easy thousand bucks. Well that was quick! He invites Sucre up to his suite for some cognac.

« Dancing with the Stars: You Started Like a Twinkling Twinkie! | Main | Heroes: I Can Has Death? »

Posted in Prison Break by Loula at 9:30 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)
Last Comment: crapslover on Mar 6, 2009 09:53 AM.