Commercials. Why must Diet Pepsi commercials be so consistently tacky? Jay Mohr and Jackie Chan are not imbuing that beverage with anything that can reasonably be construed as cred.
When we get back, Michael's visiting Lincoln again, asking why Linc never told him about the money. Linc shrugs that there's no need to, then moves on to grill Michael about Veronica. Michael merely replies, "You know how she feels about you. It's been the same way since we were kids." Linc restrains himself from asking, "So does that mean she likes me likes me, or just likes me?" Michael finally 'nads up and apologizes: "The night you called, if we talked, maybe I could have stopped you --" "Hey, hey, hey, it isn't your fault," Linc interrupts. He then tells Michael to forget about this and move on. Michael tells him, "I can't do that." Linc says seriously, "Oh, yes, you can. And you will."
As Michael says, "Here's the part I don't understand: all the evidence is lining up in a path that leads directly to you. They say they have you on tape, pulling the trigger. If you didn't kill Terence Steadman, how the hell did someone make it look like you did?" The answer: when you have the resources of a vast government conspiracy at your disposal -- and a copy of Photoshop -- it's easy to send a man up the river. We see all the doctored evidence here.
Sucre and his three cousins are talking a walk on a brisk winter day. Sucre's gushing about Maricruz. The minute he admits that she's not a local girl but from "uptown, Pill Hill," Hector's got his opening. He laughs contemptuously and asks, "You think you can hold on to a girl from the P.H.?" I bet Hector's the relative everyone dreads seeing at family get-togethers because he puts on airs about how he's bettering himself. Sucre says he'll woo Maricruz with a dinner someplace really nice. Hector scoffs, "Come on, Fernando. How are you going to afford someplace like that?" Sucre could start by selling some of the many gold chains around his neck. Or maybe he could reject the fallacy that you have to woo classy women with classy dinners at classy restaurants; if Maricruz is really all that, she'll be fine with whatever Sucre can swing. The question's always been whether Maricruz really is all that, or if her inner life has been furnished solely by Pottery Barn.
Cut to a sprightly sequence playing on the Muzak in a convenience store. The owner's just minding his own business when Sucre comes in, sticks a gun in his nose, and orders him to open the drawer. The owner complies. He is so rattled by the gun that he fails to notice how nervous Sucre is. The convenience store dude cleans out the cash register and holds the messy pile of cash out to Sucre. Sucre looks at it, and pulls off a $100, saying, "Actually, this is all I need." What? Take the whole damn stash, fool! This way you don't have to knock over another convenience store. Sucre is not strong on strategery, is he? (That's okay, papi. It looks like the guy who inspired that portmanteau word isn't either.) He takes off, and the convenience store owner's like, "What just happened there?"