Mercifully, we then cut to Geary retrieving the key. He only rinses it, as opposed to dunking it in boiling alcohol for an hour or twelve like I would -- wait. I would no more be the stool-processing stooge in any torturing-for-fun-and-profit scheme than I would actually be in a torturing-for-fun-and-profit scheme. Anyway, now that the Bozo Fetts have their key, they're off. They've handcuffed T-Bag to a radiator. Bellick dances over to show T-Bag how they're now calling 911 on his battered ass, and for the first time in this ordeal, T-Bag breaks. He begs, "No, no, no, don't do that now -- come on. Come on, please don't do this. Just don't leave me like this, okay? I'm begging you, don't do this -- please." As the Bozo Fetts depart, T-Bag screams, "Please!" one more time. Then he begins to work on his bonds. We see that Bellick handcuffed T-Bag to the radiator by his re-attached hand. Frankly, that seems like sloppy work to me, but I think this whole plotline has demonstrated that Bellick and Geary are merely overgrown schoolyard bullies who are too cowardly to face the prospect of actually thinking through how to best use pain to get what they want from another human being.
Back in the maze-cum-factory in New Mexico. Given how most industrial processes are all about efficiency, it's clear to see how any business would have failed if it were saddled with this spatial boondoggle. Mahone ends up in a little cul-de-sac, and the minute he notices it, Michael's locked him into what appears to be a fenced-in cage. The yell he emits while slamming the door shut is kind of hot. Mahone pulls his gun on Michael, and the fugitive says, "I wouldn't do that if I were you, Alex. You smell that? It's propane. It's filling the room, and if you pull that trigger, we both die." Mahone snarls. That is also kind of hot. ["Seconded." -- Sars]
Fortunately, I have a commercial break filled with depressing movie promos to recover from all the sexy, smoldering antagonism.
When we get back, Mahone is still waving his gun around and shouting, and he's still kind of hot. He rasps, "I'll do it! I'll do it!" Michael is giving him a contemptuous Blue Steel. He then says, "Before you do, let me ask you a question, Alex. Do you still think you're one of the good guys? Fighting the good fight? Because I think we both know you've crossed over." It's worth noting that Michael is bathed in unearthly white light as he says this, while Mahone's face is covered in shadow. Michael continues -- his face now half in shadow, because the lighting director is nothing if not a keen student of symbolism -- by saying, "You're on the wrong side, chasing the wrong guys. My brother is innocent. He never killed anyone." Mahone leans back into the light as he says sarcastically, "Thanks for opening my eyes." Michael taunts him: "Okay, Alex. Shoot. We both know what'll happen." Mahone makes an inarticulate, disgusted sound before pointing out that the propane's going to kill him anyway, so why wouldn't he want to take Michael out so long as he's at it? Michael concedes his point. So he breaks a few windows, then slams the fence with his little crowbar as he says, "There. There!" Now that he's had that little fit of pique, Michael can regain his cool. He leans in to tell Mahone that he should think about what he's doing, and adds, "But first, a word of advice: stop. Because when you get close, I will win, every time. And I will look really, really hot doing it." Or maybe that last part is silent. Mahone is unmoved by both the verbal and the unspoken sentiments. He says derisively, "You think?" Michael points out, "I'm not the one in the cage." Mahone replies, "There's one big difference between you and I, Michael, and you just proved it." That Michael hasn't recognized how you two are Mind Mates and you have, Mahone? ["That Michael can use the objective case in a prepositional phrase correctly?" -- Sars] No -- it's that Michael can't kill. Mahone points out that only the sweet embrace of death will keep him from dogging Michael's trail all the way to Panama. Michael stalks off-screen, irked by the thought that even the Panama part of the plan's been made plain. Mahone says, "I will get you," and then whispers, "I don't have a choice." Poor baby!