Testimonials

T-Bag finds out from Mr. White that Trishann/Booberella was sent over from a temp agency about a week before he arrived. Interesting! Mr. White also tells Cole he's going to have to step up this afternoon, covering Andy's presentation to a bunch of fancy new franchise people. Robert Knepper's panicked "hoo boy, can't wait!" reaction face cracks me up. Before he can start studying up on, you know, what the hell this company even sells, Gretchen stops by to tell him Scylla's moving, but they'll stick to the plan. And the plan is that if Michael et al do find Scylla, they take it and sell it to the Chinese gang who initially paid Whistler to do it. If Michael gets captured/killed/maimed, well, not their problem. I should mention that Gretchen uses a colorful Southern metaphor to explain this. ("What the hell kind of hillbilly are you?" She wonders, when T-Bag doesn't know what "noodling" is. I didn't know either, but to be fair, I'm a coonass, not a hillbilly.) Sucre and Linc arrive, annoyed to find Gretchen there. "Where's Pretty and the Fat Man?" T-Bag demands, and when Sucre snaps that Bellick's dead, T-Bag seems genuinely abashed. But just to be on the safe side, Sucre advises that if he makes a joke about it he'll rip his tongue out. Aw. So cute. I forget that between seasons it was Bellick and Sucre who teamed up to get out of Panama, so I guess they were kind of special pals.

Lisa has some bad news - dismantling the security system around Scylla is trickier than they thought, so they'll need more time. Baldy has a better way: David Baker. Popular guy today. As a matter of fact, Mahone is approaching his front door as we speak. He says the magic word, "Scylla," and Mrs. Baker lets him in.

Linc and Sucre wiggle through the Brad Bellick Memorial Tunnel and onto the other side, where they run smack dab into a huge cement wall. There's a subtle little clicking noise and they realize that Sucre has stepped onto one of the little land mines that are neatly lined up in front of the wall. D'oh.

At the hospital we get Dr. Sara, who is second only to Crafty On-the-Run Sara on my list of favorite Saras. She requests a neurologist for her "husband." In the waiting room they both giggle like teenagers about that, which is both sort of out of character and also adorable. Sarah Wayne Callies has some nice subtle little couply mannerisms that sell their relationship for me. Michael's trying to get an update but cellphones don't work so well underground so he just has to sit and fret. And Sara, for no real reason, flashes back to when she first met Bellick, not at Fox River but at AA, where he attempted to woo her with the greatest pickup line ever: "I got a gift card to the Red Lobster off the Interstate." Ha. She never thought they'd be so sad for Brad Bellick, she says. None of us did either! Michael reminds her that a lot has changed since Fox River. "You know you can't control this," she cautions, referring to the large cancer-shaped elephant in the room. He grins and says he was about to say the same thing to her. She can handle this once they know what they're dealing with, but Michael's not so sure he wants to find out.

"Hospitals remind me of the good old days, when I was a junkie prison doctor and you were a fake diabetic burning escape holes into the infirmary floor. Young love!"

So Mahone is making friends with Baker, who thinks Mahone's with the Company. He's working on a miniature self-sustaining city and doesn't look up much during the conversation. He says he likes to freelance, work on a project then move on. "You always leave your name behind?" Mahone asks, and yeah, good point, what's up with the Reclusive Weirdo act when you're the one who put your name right in the plans? Mahone says they're considering modifications but can't understand the blueprints. "Didn't you read the legend?" Baker asks. (Ding ding! Episode title! That's a fun game to play.) Mahone says sure, but they're still having trouble. This seems to confirm it for Baker: "You're not Company," he grumbles, and resumes pruning his tiny trees. That is not a euphemism in this case, but feel free to imagine what it might mean if it were.

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Posted in Prison Break by Loula at 7:10 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)
Last Comment: baymenxpac on Nov 17, 2008 01:36 PM.