Six Feet Under
Twilight

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Aaron: A | Grade It Now!
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It's My Body And I'll Cry If I Want To

TWOPSFU/20030518-2100 -- Begin Transmission:

Brenity: I know why you're here, Aaron. I know what you've been doing...why you hardly sleep, why you live alone, and why night after night, you sit by your computer. It's the question, Aaron. It's the question that drives us. It's the question that brought you here. You know the question, just as I did.
Aaron: Is it "Will you marry me, Lauren?"
Brenity: No, you fucking moron. The other question.
Aaron: What is the Natrix?
Brenity: Exactly. The answer is out there, Aaron. And it will find you if you let it.

It just doesn't get any cooler than Sars, does it?

Fade up on an improbably darkened conference room, where a friendly-looking prison guard is explaining the policies and procedures for an upcoming execution to a group of assembled witnesses, lawyers, and family members. Hmm. Prison guards? Executions? Ambient light levels not normally seen outside the event horizon of a black hole? Ack! I'm back in Oz again! Aww, come on, Sars! I take one week off and you throw me back in the hole? That seems a little harsh. Although maybe I can become the Couch Baron's prag, and then no one will mess with me. In any case, Officer Smurphy is explaining that the condemned man's "last statement may be offensive. It may contain expletives or material of a dark nature." Yeah. No fucking duh. This is Six Feet Under, after all. Incidentally, this scene is remarkably HITG-heavy, what with Graham "L.A. Confidential" Beckel as the DGDJ, Jim "Adaptation" Beaver as Officer Smurphy, and that one guy who looks like Scott Glenn but isn't in a non-speaking role as a lawyer. There's also an attractive young woman who's really more blonde than famous per se, but seeing as how she turns out to be important later on, I should probably make a point of mentioning her up front. "You may hear what is known as a death rattle," continues Officer Smurphy. "A snort, or a cough of some sort." Flick…ahh. "Now, I'm sorry if this is troublesome to you folks, but if when this is all over you tell me, 'Officer [Smurphy], it happened just like you said it would,' then I figure I've done my job." Amen, brother. Although I guess you're really more of a precapper than a recapper, but we'll still let you join the union. Kathy Bates directed this week's episode, by the way, and as a veteran of several Oz episodes herself, she must be feeling right at home. That's probably why she's got the camera swirling around like it's attached to Hill's wheelchair and someone just lit his dreadlocks on fire.

Cut to the execution chamber, where our soon-to-be DGDJ lies strapped to a table in an anviliciously Christ-like pose. I mention that only because it's strongly implied later on in the episode that Nate's personal salvation can only be found in the vagina of this guy's daughter. Yeah. God must be so very proud. After ranting a bit about his opposition to the death penalty, the Not-Yet-Dead Guy Du Jour tells the witnesses (who are all crowded against the cell bars a few feet away) that they're "gonna eat shit and vomit blood forever." Wow. This really is Oz. Am I going to have to reinstitute the bodily fluid box scores again? As the warden gives the signal for the lethal injection to begin, the DGDJ stiffens a bit and strains against his bonds. His last words? "You're all fucking pigs slipping out of God's ass, and I would cut all your throats if I could. I hate this motherfucking…" It's the fact that he died on the word "motherfucking" that finally convinces me once and for all that I'm watching SFU and not Oz. Of course, if this were Oz, I'd have to include a famous death row quote in here somewhere. In lieu of that, however, I'll just link you to the Texas Department of Corrections website, where you can read the final words of everyone they've ever executed. Sometimes I worry about the internet. Fortunately, we simply fade to white instead of cutting to the expected Augustus Interlude. Farewell, Carl Desmond Williman. Your death might not have helped anyone, but look at it this way: At least there was no spoon.

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Six Feet Under

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