The episode opens with cleavage. A last-ditch effort to lure in viewers? Or to retain them? I like to imagine someone watching and grousing, "I have given FOX an hour of my Monday night and they have given me -- whoa! Hey! Cleavage! Thank you, FOX!" Anyway, the episode begins with Dr. Sara in a "hel-lo, Nurse!" outfit of halter top, Wonderbra, jeans and shades. She ascends an escalator at a racing track and walks across the betting lobby. As she passes Michael -- who is dressed like my grandfather in a baggy oxford and near-shapeless bucket hat -- he smirks appreciatively. She chides him, "Don't get used to it." Michael strides off all Surely, you're not planning on wearing a burqua on the high seas? and walks by Linc, handing him a ticket and tells him, "SparkleKid, gate eight." Oooh, is it a vampire horse? One that can read minds and see the future? Oh please, oh please, oh please! (For those of you who have no idea what the hell I'm talking about: be grateful. Or do a search online for "Twilight" and "dazzle" and "vampires." But don't blame me for what you find.)
Ahem. Michael continues his walk and leans over at a table. Mahone comes up -- also dressed in a baggy blue oxford, not looking like anyone's grandpa -- and settles next to Michael. The two stare around. Dr. Sara walks up to the betting counter, channels one of the Girls Next Door and announces she would like to place some bets. Next to her, Bellick places an exacta on Captain Brody and Mr. Hooper in the first race. Nice shout-out to Jaws, writers. Please tell me that later in the season, Michael will say to Dr. Sara, "We're going to need a bigger boat." Anyway, Bellick places his exacta, then throws a huge, inappropriate, completely-in-the-wrong tantrum about how he asked for a quinella instead. (Apropos of nothing: a quinella does not sound like "I'm betting on two horses to finish first and second in no specific order." It sounds like a very formal dance, one that would show up in a Regency romance.) I can't bear to watch this poor woman being abused for doing absolutely nothing wrong, so let's move on.
Dr. Sara shares my sentiment. She leaves. Across the hall, Michael and Mahone give the nod to the waiting Sucre -- also resplendent in a blue shirt, also wearing a hat (this one straw) -- and Sucre summons a security guard to go see about the ruckus Bellick is making. Having dispatched the guard, Sucre gives Linc the go-ahead to enter the paddock. So help me, if Linc gingers up a horse, I will have to cut him dead.