And speaking of Crusty McSplitEnds, Ryan gets to spend his very last scene in Oz telling Pops that his other son has been executed. Sheamus uses this news as an excuse to run down his tale of woe, explaining that nothing has ever gone his way in life, and now he's afraid of dying alone. "Don't leave me, Ryan," he whispers, before wiping the Soul-Glo off his hand and extending it to his son. "Don't worry," answers a melancholy Ryan. "I'm not going anywhere." Aww. How meta. And also sad.
Fade to the cafeteria, where Sister Pete and The Prison Rape Players are gathered for a support group meeting. Robson has asked for and received permission to address the entire group, and he leads things off by announcing that he's HIV positive and getting transferred to the AIDS ward. "Initially I blamed Cutler," he tells them, "but the truth is that this is my fault. Because of all the times I had unprotected sex thinking I'd never be the one to catch my dick in the zipper." Yeah. If by "zipper" you mean "Beecher's overbite." "Anyway, I'm glad I got to spend some time with you guys," he concludes. "To see through the window both ways." And as much as I'm saddened to see Robson go, he has caused me to ponder an interesting question: Do you think it would be possible to assemble a Frankenstein-like creature from all the body parts that have been severed in Oz? I mean, you've got Shupe's arm, Robson's dick, that one guard's eyes, and that's just what I can think of off the top of my head. Now there's a fun science project for you. Fade to black.
And now, at long last, we've reached the final segment. It's all Beecher, Keller, and Schillinger from here on out, so strap yourselves in, heat up the paper clips, and get ready for thirty minutes of butt-fucking, back-stabbing, and The Bard from Stratford on Avon. It's go time. ["By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes." -- Macbeth (Act IV. Scene i.)]
But first, a nice familial interlude. The long-lost Schillinger sister (last seen mothering a clan of freaks and geeks) has come to visit Oz, and also to tell Vern that their father is on his deathbed. "It's lung cancer," she explains. "All those Chesterfields finally caught up with him." Flick…ahhh. The sister, who's named Greta and married to a nice Jewish man named Irv, hands over some pictures from baby Jewel's first birthday party, and did I just see a flicker of genuine emotion pass across Vern's face? Nah, couldn't be. "What I did," he says, with just a tinge of regret, "shutting you out after your wedding? I had to." "And I despised you for decades," she replies. "But now all I can say is, 'Shalom.' Shalom, Vern." Oh, that is totally my new motto in life! Next time someone cuts me off on the freeway? "Shalom, Vern!" Next time my boss dumps another project on my desk at 5:30? "Shalom, Vern!" When I find out this year's Six Feet Under finale is 140 minutes long? "Shalom, you motherfucking, cocksucking, overly verbose, carpal-tunnel-causing assholes! Shalom."