Best scene of the night, right here: Sheamus approaches Vern in Unit B, saying "Hey, Skillenger. I've got a job that needs to be done." Uh-oh. Anyone who reads our forums knows you never call Vern "Skillenger." Schillinger (Shill-Lin-Grrrr) corrects him once, and then refuses to kill Jahfree Neema for him, even though Neema is black and Sheamus is offering to pay. It's not until Sheamus says "Skillenger" a second time, however, that Vern gets really pissed off. And rightly so, I would think. After all, wouldn't you assume that a man with a superfluous "H" in his own name would know better?
Having failed to enlist the Aryans, Sheamus resorts to Plan B and simply bribes a guard for the chance to kill Neema himself. In what is likely the most pathetic display of knife-fighting acumen since Michael Jackson's seminal "Beat It" video, Sheamus soon ends up hoisted on his own petard. Or stabbed with his own shank, if you prefer. He gets rushed to the hospital. Neema gets rushed to The Hole, complete with the only live-action full-frontal shot we'll see all night.
Later on, Ryan spends most of his first day as a hospital orderly taunting Dad about all the many ways in which his life is fucked up. Gloria catches him in the act, however, and calls him into her office for a little chat about why it isn't nice to taunt convicted murderers who haven't washed their hair since 1973. "I watch you care for your brother," she tells him. "And you're so warm and so sweet with him. And then you get this look in your eye, this dangerous, terrifying, incredibly sexy and alluring look." Gloria goes on to say that she wants to forgive him for having her husband murdered, but she can't as long as he's unwilling to forgive his father. She forces him to promise that no harm will come to Sheamus, and as the scene ends, you can totally see Ryan trying to figure out how he can Lord of The Dance his way out of this one.
The Miseducation Of Augustus Hill. Here's a story, and it's Sorkinized: All the people (including Supreme Court justice Antonin Scalia) who support the death penalty but not abortion are obviously hypocrites, right? Oh, and Republicans are yucky.
Yeah. Okay. So if you really want to know what happens in these next few scenes, I highly recommend you just click here and read my recap of "A Day In The Death," because we've seen all this before. We once again kick off the execution pre-show with Ryan and Cyril up on death row, sharing superficial banter that appears to be about nothing, but actually contains far, far more than the recommended USDA daily allowance of subtext. It's all very touching and fraternally sweet, but I'm still bitter about the bait-and-switch from last time, and there's no way I'm falling for the old "banana-in-the-electric-chair" trick twice in two weeks. From there we recycle the same old montage sequence, complete with the Em City inmates pounding on their cells, Cyril being led to the execution chamber (now with added cheek-swishing!), and Ryan pacing pensively in the meditative maze. Things are at least a little bit different this time, however, because we've got Querns running the show instead of Leo, and because Gloria suddenly shows up to join Ryan in the maze. When the red phone fails to ring, Querns gives the signal to start the execution. As we hear the electricity sizzle, and Cyril's body begins to give off smoke, we finally cut away to Ryan and Gloria, who are marking this tragic and life-altering moment by…making out? Well, that seems a little weird. Now I'm proud to have hooked up with a few girls under some very strange circumstances in my day (including once on the altar of a church, and once with a girl who'd been making out with a television personality just a few hours earlier), but I can't imagine that I'd ever get the urge swap spit at the exact moment that my only living sibling was getting fried in the electric chair. I know you love her, Ryan, and I know you're running out of time in the episode, Tommy, but that's just wrong. And then, with one final shot of Cyril's body contorting in agony (accompanied by the unforgettable image of Martin Querns losing his lunch right on the execution chamber floor), it's finally over, and the deed is done. Farewell, Cyril O'Reily. If nothing else, you've finally proven that bad hair isn't genetic.