And now, as a special added bonus, and also as a way to provide you with a brief opportunity to take your minds off the death of the beloved B/K Love Pod, here are some interesting tidbits about this episode that I couldn't find a home for:
1. Much like almost every episode of The Sopranos, this week featured at least two product placements for Snackwells.
2. The uniform we see Rick Fox wearing is just different enough from his normal Lakers home jersey so as to prevent a trademark infringement lawsuit.
3. Alvarez has what appears to be an entire paragraph of text tattooed on his lower back. Can anyone with HDTV make out what it says?
4. Not counting the montages, there were exactly ninety-one separate scenes in the episode, including nine Augustus Interludes.
5. I've consumed thirty-seven cigarettes, almost two and a half liters of Dr. Pepper, one small bag of Doritos, and twelve Rolaids tablets since I started writing. And there's still five scenes to go.
Meditative maze. Beecher is there with Sister Pete as he dutifully ties up all the loose strands of exposition regarding his ultimate fate. We learn that he still may face the death penalty for "murdering" Chris Keller, and also that the deal offered to him by Agent Melonilust has been taken off the table for good. But at least he knows that Chris really did love him, and that he really did love Chris. "When God was designing the universe," he sadly asks Sister Pete, "why did he make something so wonderful so fucking painful?" "I think he thought we could handle it," she answers, and I think she's right. Little Timmy pops in at this point, warning Beecher that he may be sent to Unit J if the Aryans try to retaliate for the death of Vern Schillinger. Toby remembers that Chris said he took care of the Aryans, and everyone just stands there looking stupid as they ponder what he might have meant by that.
And they could stand there all night and all the next day, and they'd still probably never figure it out. After all, who could have guessed that Keller was a secret chemist, capable of whipping up a mysterious white powder that looks like anthrax, kills like sarin, and coats like Pepto-Bismol, all without leaving the prison? We cut to the mailroom, where a pair of random Aryans open a package to discover a jar of the aforementioned powder. One of them oh-so-gracefully lets it slip out of his hands, and suddenly it's a festival of crappy special effects, as everyone starts gasping for breath and applying low-rent color filters all over the damn place. It's also worth mentioning at this point that Sars and I had a little bet going on what the ultimate death toll would be for the finale. We set the over/under at eight and a half, and she was kicking my ass with the "under" pick right up until Keller saved the day with his little foray into biological warfare. So, thanks to both Chris Keller and Contrivance, I'm now one dollar richer. I'm sure that will console me while I'm soaking my fingers in Epsom salts tomorrow.