(no subject)
Title: Prison Break: The Short Version (Part One)
Author: circus_sands
Characters: Everybody
Category: Humor
Rating: R (for obscene language and an overabundance of the word "dude")
Summary: This is a Prison Break parody done in script format. Basically, it's ridiculous. Covers the pilot through the S1 fall finale, with more to come eventually.
Author's Notes: This is such crack, but it was so fun to do. Thanks to alazysod for beta-ing and for being, you know, amused.
Michael: I’m really cool and attractive, and I’m a genius, and that’s pretty much all you need to know right now. So just hang out while I rob this bank.
Judge: Your failed robbery sucks and you suck and you need to get locked up in FOX RIVER PRISON RIGHT NOW KTHX.
Michael: I’m so HAPPY. Now I get to save my innocent brother from execution and bust him out of prison and you are absolutely going to buy every single minute of it or at least I hope you do because otherwise my show will get cancelled. HURRAY!
Int. PRISON
Sucre: Don’t be fooled by the rocks that I got, I’m still I’m still Sucre from the block.
Michael: At least you’re nice to look at.
Sucre: Puerto Rican pride. And no funny business, Fish, I don’t roll like that.
Michael: But you’re really nice to look at. As in really nice to look at.
Sucre: Used to have a little now I got a lot, but no matter what I know where I came from (SOUTH SIDE BRONX)!
Michael: Somebody up there must really like me. My cellmate’s the best-looking guy in here. He’s like my ethnic equivalent.
Sucre: How do you spell ‘Sucre’?
Int. CHAPEL
Lincoln: OMGWTF MICHAEL?
Michael: I’m getting you out of here.
Lincoln: STFU THAT’S IMPOSSIBLE.
Michael: Not if you repeat lines for the previews it isn’t.
Lincoln: THAT’S A GOOD POINT.
Michael: I have conveniently tattooed the blueprints on my body and my elaborate plan can be hatched within two weeks and then we can run away to Panama together and it’ll be AWSUM.
Lincoln: MICHAEL I REALLY APPRECIATE IT BUT YOU’RE GOING TO GET YOUR ASS KICKED HERE, I’M SORRY.
Michael: Haha no I don’t think so.
Abruzzi: Welcome to prison. I am an Italian Mafioso and I have a Swedish accent. I don’t look at people when I speak to them, I cannot explain my hair, and I have a tendency to express myself as though I have a speech impediment. Why am I talking to you again?
Michael: Because I have secret information about the location of the guy who got you sent to jail.
Abruzzi: O rite. We’ll talk later.
Michael: Okay! So I’m sure it’ll be fine if I try to take a nail out of these bleachers here.
Random Inmate: Dude, the hell are you doing. These are T-Bag’s bleachers.
Michael: LMAO T-BAG??
T-Bag: BELIEVE IT. Also, I’m an inbred racist rapist from Alabama and I enjoy killing and raping children and making newcomers my bitches. I also like stabbing people and having sex with their dead bodies. Welcome to prison! Be my bitch? It’ll be fun! We can have slumber parties!
Michael: Thx but no.
T-Bag: WHAT YOU TOTALLY REJECTED ME. But I can’t kill you yet because I’m sure you’ll come around to my side soon enough. Also if I do, this would be one short-lived TV show.
T-Bag’s Bitch: I HAVE ONE LINE AND NOW I AM DEAD. (But fandom will inexplicably obsess over me so I guess I’ll live on in spirit.)
Michael: Oh, I’m sad you’re dead even though I think you just tried to kill me.
T-Bag: HOMG YOU KILLED MY BITCH, SO NOW I’M GOING TO HAVE TO KILL YOU.
Abruzzi: HEY DICKHEAD, YOU WANT TO TELL ME WHERE FIBONACCI IS OR DO I HAVE TO CUT OFF TWO OF YOUR TOES.
Michael: Is there a third option? I think I somehow got the two worst guys in here really mad at me within one day.
Abruzzi: I’ll count to three, and then the toes are gone.
Michael: Well I’m not going to tell you so-OW SHIT!
Int. CAFETERIA
Abruzzi: So the toe thing didn’t work. Want to help me scare him to death?
T-Bag: I’m so there. Can I bring my knife?
Abruzzi: Only if you promise to call me if people start drinking, and remember, NO DRUGS. AND NO SEX.
T-Bag: But Mommmm…
Int. RANDOM SKETCHY SIDE ROOM
Abruzzi’s Friend: [drags Michael in]
Abruzzi: So basically, you really upset me when you wouldn’t tell me about that guy even after I cut off your toes. I cried about it for a while, but then I decided to accept the life philosophy of the Beatles, and now I’ve decided to try one more thing to make you change your mind and tell me where he is.
T-Bag: WHAT’S UP.
Abruzzi: LOLZ HAVE FUN GUYS.
T-Bag: OMG. This is going to be PG and excellent. I think I’ll allude to stabbing you and then I’ll vaguely refer to raping you and then I’ll-
Abruzzi: [punches T-Bag in the face] I changed my mind. You’re gross. Come on, Michael, let’s leave. This is my way of saying I want to be your friend!
Michael: No wonder nobody liked you in high school.
Abruzzi: And I’ll help you out with this escape thing, too. It’ll be fun, we can bake cookies.
Int. CHAPEL
Lincoln: SO YOU’RE MISSING TWO TOES, YOU’VE ALMOST BEEN SEXUALLY ASSAULTED, YOU’VE HELD A DYING BITCH’S BODY, AND YOU THINK IT’S ALL GOING WELL?
Michael: Why yes.
Lincoln: Okay cool.
Michael: Hey, you seem more mellow today.
Lincoln: I’ve been doing some intense thinking about my life. And I’ve discovered something. I only have three emotions: anger, confusion, and emo.
Michael: Just have a little faith.
Lincoln: THAT’S MY LINE!
Michael: And we’re back.
Int. SICK WARD
Sara: Hello, Michael, I’ll be your love interest for the day.
Michael: Make that all season, baby.
Sara: … I’ll forgive you for that because you’re hot. So I’m a little suspicious of you but I’m also intrigued. And I think I might be stalking you. A little.
Michael: That’s okay, baby, you can stalk me all night long.
Sara: You know, I don’t think you normally sound like that. I think there is something fishy going on with you.
Michael: I think it’s because whenever I see you I’m on permanent flirt-mode, baby. Shall we shag now or shall we shag later?
Int. GEN-POP
T-Bag: Can I call a riot? It’s really fucking hot in here.
Michael: Excellent, my plan is working.
Sucre: You want to piss T-Bag off more?
Michael: No, I need to drill through a solid wall and I’m using a picture of the devil to do it. And it needs to be hot in here so that the prisoners riot and I get the time I need to go drill.
Sucre: Ay caramba.
CO Geary: I CALL LOCKDOWN AND GOD HELP US.
T-Bag: Rape, kill, rape, kill.
Abruzzi: Threaten, sweat profusely, threaten, sweat profusely.
Lincoln: GET OUT OF HERE PLZ.
T-Bag: RAPE AND KILL, RAPE AND KILL.
Lincoln: DUDE I GOTTA BREAK SOME SKULLS. [does so]
T-Bag: I’ll give you drugs if you give me the C.O. you’re attached to?
Lincoln: Nothx.
T-Bag: KFINE.
DRAMATIC FIGHT ensues. LINCOLN kicks RANDOM ASS. T-BAG stands around and eventually hits him with a PIPE.
T-Bag: THX FOR THE C.O., SORRY BUT YOU AREN’T MY TYPE.
CO Bob: Fuck.
Int. RANDOM TUNNEL INSIDE WALL
Michael: Come on, Sucre, let’s do this.
Sucre: Right here, Michael? Right now? Don’t you think it’s a little public?
Michael: Sucre, we’re in a passageway inside the prison walls. Do you really think someone is going to walk right by?
Sucre: Well, if you say so. [takes off shirt]
Michael: DRILL. I’ll BRB.
Sucre: … Oh. Right.
Int. CELL
T-Bag: I think I’ll parade around with the C.O. for a while and be inexplicably worshipped by the whole prison-black people too. Come on friend, let’s have some public sex.
CO Bob: WHAT IS MY LIFE.
T-Bag: So this one time, at Hitler youth camp-HEY I FOUND THE HOLE THEY ARE TRYING TO-
Abruzzi: I’m going to do what I do best and invade your personal space in an intense and sexually ambiguous manner. [does so]
T-Bag: I’m disturbed. But it’s okay, since it’s our hole. And our escape and our plan and I was definitely in on this the entire time what are you talking about.
Abruzzi: I think he thinks he’s part of it now.
Michael: Oh holy Jesus.
Abruzzi: And the CO knows about our hole.
Michael: Oh holy Jesus.
T-Bag: SUCKS TO BE YOU.
CO Bob: Oh random con I have never met before, PLEASE DON’T LEAVE ME WITH THIS PSYCHO. HE TIED ME UP WITH MY OWN SHOELACE.
Sucre: I’m sorry dude, I gotta go back down and drill some more.
CO Bob: GODDAMMIT.
T-Bag: RAPE AND KILL, RAPE AND KILL.
Abruzzi: There will be no raping or killing.
T-Bag: I hate you.
Michael: I have to BRB. There’s a certain doctor who needs saving.
Int. SICK WARD
Sara: I am, in essence, screwed.
Scary Cons: RAPE AND KILL RAPE AND KILL.
Black Con: I will now lick your neck and you will flip a shit and this will be in ALL the posters and promos for this show because the people who make them are fucked up. [does so]
Michael: I’M HERE TO SAVE YOU, BABY!
Sara: Oh thank GOD! YET I AM HESITATING BECAUSE I AM JUST THAT STUPID!
Michael: … Seriously, baby. Me or the rapist who just licked your neck?
Sara: Good point. So how did you get up here again?
Michael: Oh uh… Mold, PI, blah blah blah you know, same old same. But enough about me, let’s talk about you. So have you ever been to Thailand? There’s a great beer place in Mexico. There’s also a great party in my pants.
Sara: Shouldn’t we be moving along now?
Michael: That’s a good plan. Here, let me jump out of this tunnel in the ceiling first, and then I can catch you and have a nice and awkward romantic moment with you!
Sara: You think I'm goorrgeous, you want to kiiiiss me, you want to huuug me, you want to looove me, you want to smooooch me...
Michael: Wow, baby, you sure catch on fast.
Int. MICHAEL’S CELL
T-Bag: Why don’t I address in vulgar and uncomfortable terms exactly why I’m in prison. I’ll start with you, Bob.
CO Bob: I HATE MY LIFE.
T-Bag: I’M SKEEVY!
Abruzzi: I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU TO STOP FREAKING THE VIEWERS OUT. DO I NEED TO INVADE YOUR PERSONAL SPACE AGAIN?
T-Bag: I wonder what it says about you if you make me physically uncomfortable.
Int. FRONT YARD
Governor: OMGGZZZ.
Sara: Sob, I’m okay, Daddy. I was locked in a room and I was almost raped by five extremely large convicted felons! But it’s okay.
Governor: THE POINT IS I TOTALLY TOLD YOU SO. OKAY BYE.
Sara: Wow, I hate my life. On the bright side, at least I’m not dead.
Bob: CAN’T REALLY SAY THE SAME FOR ME.
THE NEXT DAY OR SOMETHING.
Michael: So. Paul Newman. How’s it going.
Westmoreland: I’m good, had my Wheaties this morning and then I played bridge with myself for five hours, and then I cleaned my dentures.
Michael: That’s nice. I need you to help me out.
Westmoreland: No.
Michael: Cat?
Westmoreland: OH MY GOD YOU OWN MY SOUL. I MISSED YOU MARILYN! [fondles the cat]
Michael: So. Help?
Westmoreland: Sorry, buddy.
Michael: You fucking suck.
Int. HALLWAY
Veronica’s Apartment: [EXPLODES]
Nick: Well shit.
Int. LJ’S HOUSE
Hale: Hi. I’m your local Secret Service agent posing as some official you don’t really need to worry about right now, since I mean it’s probably pretty clear that I have a gun and I guess I’m sort of conflicted about this whole scenario but I mean, I can’t really do anything right?
Kellerman: Jesus Christ, shut the FUCK up. We still need to murder this kid’s parents.
LJ: I officially have the worst life ever.
Lincoln: Um, excuse me?
LJ: No. Seriously. Worst life ever. Right here.
Lincoln: Okay, you win. For now.
Int. PRISON
Random Con: Damn, that shit’s fucked up.
Random Con #2: What?
Random Con: Dead cat.
Random Con #2: Didn’t you rape and kill a pregnant woman?
Random Con: … That’s not the point.
Westmoreland: IHU BELLICK. MY NAME IS CHARLES WESTMORELAND. YOU KILLED MY CAT. PREPARE TO DIE.
Int. YARD
Guard’s Room: [EXPLODES]
Michael: Well, that worked out nicely.
Int. SHOWER
Seth: Help.
Michael: No.
T-Bag: I’M SKEEVY!
Seth: [hangs himself]
Michael: I am really broken up about this. Like, really broken up about it. I’m really, really broken up about it. I think I’m… oh wait, wait… oh, yes, I do believe that is a tear right there.
Lincoln: Oh shut up, Michael and start breaking me out of here.
Int. YARD
C-Note: It’s hard out here for a pimp.
Tweener: Dag, yo.
C-Note: Shut the fuck up.
Tweener: … It’s cool, yo, I’ll find my own dawgs.
T-Bag: Hi, how are you? You have lovely eyes. Can I touch you inappropriately?
Tweener: NO.
T-Bag: GODDAMMIT WTF IS WITH YOU PEOPLE.
Michael: Excuse me, would it be okay if you-
T-Bag: STOPPED HITTING ON EVERYTHING IN SIGHT? NO. NO THAT WOULD NOT BE OKAY.
Michael: This is going to be an issue.
Int. GUARD’S ROOM
CO Louis: EVERYBODY OUT I GOTTA MAKE WITH THE LOVE WITH THE WHITEST BITCH ON THE FACE OF GOD’S GREEN EARTH.
Lincoln: YOU HORNY DOG, GOTTA LOVE YOU.
Int. PSYCHIATRIC OFFICE
Sara: So you’re telling me Michael’s retarded?
Psychiatrist: Sort of. In the way that being retarded makes you a total freaking genius with mad skills that could aid you in breaking out of a maximum security prison. If you were, you know, so inclined.
Sara: That’s so strange, he never mentioned he was retarded.
Psychiatrist: WELL THEN I GUESS YOU DON’T KNOW HIM TOO WELL. NOW STOP MAKING YOUR CRUSH OBSCENELY CONSPICUOUS AND LEAVE THANKS.
Int. YARD
Sara: So I heard you were the next Gandhi.
Michael: Haha yeah kind of. Be the Angelina to my Brad?
Sara: OKAY!
Michael: Well, I have no use for you at the moment, so off you go. Go on, mush.
Sara: OKAY!
Int. BUS
Kellerman: Well goddammit to motherfucking hell, this kid is smarter than we thought.
Hale: Does this mean I won’t be home in time for pie?
Vice President of the United Motherfucking States: In case you didn’t know who this strange Martha Stewart-esque blonde woman on the phone all the time was… I’m the Vice President of the United Motherfucking States. And I’m really glad you killed that innocent child, because if you didn’t I WOULD HAVE KILLED YOU BOTH. NO WIRE HANGERS!!!
Kellerman: See, I told you lying was a good idea.
Hale: I want my mommy.
Int. GUARD’S ROOM
T-Bag: I’M SKEEVY!
Michael: [crowbars]
T-Bag: FUCK THIS I AM SO TELLING ON YOU.
Michael: Stop raping the children. And I know you won’t say anything because you want to get out of here too, and also if you do try to say anything I’ll probably kill you with my middle-distance stare.
T-Bag: Can’t really argue with that. Alright, no underage children.
Michael: And you have to do everything I say.
Abruzzi: LOL you’re like his bitch now.
T-Bag: WHAT IS HAPPENING TO THE WORLD?
Int. RANDOM HOTEL ROOM
Quinn: Hi, my name is Doctor Quinn, Medicine Woman, and I’m here to fix your problems. I’ll start by breaking your hand, and then we’ll move on to the torturing of the lawyers, and then finally the killing of the innocents.
Kellerman: Fuck you. Sounds good, though.
Hale: I hate my life.
Int. PRISON VISITING AREA
Mob Boss Guy with an Actual Italian Accent™: Fuck your stupid face, fuck your stupid clothes, fuck your stupid lack of hair-
Michael: I’m sorry, I just win at life. I don’t know what to tell you.
Abruzzi: Dude, you’re being snotty with my boss. I’ll cut you?
Michael: Yeah right. Can we please keep to the part about me being awesome.
Mob Boss: Alright, fine. You’re good. But if you screw with me again, I’ll probably eviscerate you.
Michael: Gee, this is like the tenth anniversary of that phrase being directed at me. I’m fucking hardcore.
Int. GUARD’S ROOM
CO Nameless: HEY THERE SCOFIELD, TIME TO BONE YOUR WIFE.
Abruzzi: WHAT.
T-Bag: THAT’S NOT FAAAAIIR!
Sucre: I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU DIDN’T TELL ME!
C-Note: Making us do your damn work, lazy-ass cracker.
Sara: I am so mad at you, if I stare at you long enough it’s just possible your head might burst into flames.
Michael: Baby, let me explain! She doesn’t mean anything to me!
Sara: She’s your wife.
Michael: It was the green card, baby! So I help Eastern European immigrants, that’s just me being generous and philanthropic like always, right, baby?
Sara: Isn’t she like, a stripper?
Michael: … That’s not the point.
Int. RANDOM SHED
Quinn: Hi, I’m here to torture you. I hope that’s okay.
Nick: I’VE BEEN SHOT!
Veronica: [knocks Quinn over with a chair]
LJ: [knocks Quinn into a well]
Nick: I’m so glad I have you both to protect me.
Kellerman: HAHA, SUCKS TO BE YOU QUINN.
Quinn: Dude you are NOT sealing me up in here! NO YOU ARE NOT. OKAY YOU ARE. THAT’S FINE, I’LL JUST ROT DOWN HERE. AND I’LL COME BACK TO HAUNT YOU THROUGH YOUR TELEVISION SETS. THAT’S FINE. SEVEN DAYS, BITCH.
Int. GUARD’S ROOM
Michael: Lincoln, we have too many people, and this needs to be kept confidential.
C-Note: SHIT. HEY EVERYBODY, WE HAVE TOO MANY PEOPLE.
Michael: So much for that…
Abruzzi: Well obviously we know who we want to be out.
Lincoln: Yeah seriously.
Sucre: Who?
[thirty seconds later]
Sucre: OHH T-Bag, I got it. Okay.
T-Bag: Did I miss something? You all look so mysterious. Hey, this is like that time I walked in on Abruzzi trying to bone one of the guards. Boy, was that awkward.
Abruzzi: Shut up, you’re so fucking gay.
T-Bag: Oh yeah? Know how I know you’re gay? ‘Cause you try to kiss everybody when you talk to them.
Abruzzi: Know I know you’re gay? You spend way too much time on your hair.
T-Bag: Know how I know you’re gay? You have a Swedish accent.
Abruzzi: Know how I know you’re gay? You like Barbara Streisand.
T-Bag: OH BITCH YOU DID NOT-
Michael: Guys, can we save this for some other time.
T-Bag: Well I’m not leaving, so. You can figure something else out.
Int. SICK WARD
Michael: Baby, I’m sorry.
Sara: Haha choke and die!
Int. SHED
T-Bag: Know how I know you’re gay? YOU’RE PRAYING TO GOD.
Abruzzi: Know how I know you’re gay? You just burst into tears.
T-Bag: Know how I know you’re gay? You just asked to be left alone with me in a shed and you’re invading my personal space.
Abruzzi: Know how I know you’re gay? YOU FUCK MEN.
T-Bag: FUCK YOU. Oh, I just totally slit your throat, haha oh shit.
Abruzzi: Fuck this, I’m doing Volkswagen commercials. [gurgles]
Int. YARD
Sucre: Holy shit, what happened to Abruzzi?
T-Bag: LOL I HAVE NO IDEA.
Michael: Well, now we have the right number of people, but shit, my brother’s in solitary.
C-Note: We don’t care. We’re LEAVING TONIGHT, CRACKER.
T-Bag: Yeah for serious.
Michael: SHUT UP, ALL OF YOU. LOOK, YOU’RE MAKING ME EXPRESS RAGE. I HATE EXPRESSING RAGE. IT GIVES ME LINES ON MY FACE THAT COULD GIVE ME WRINKLES WHEN I GET OLDER.
Int. MICHAEL’S CELL
Michael: Priest, since I’m so religious and my brother’s about to, you know, die, would you give this cross to my brother. I swear there’s nothing sketchy going on.
Priest: Sure!!
Int. LINCOLN’S CELL
Lincoln: EAT 8:10?? WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN? Hey Guard, what time is it?
C.O. Random: 8:10.
Lincoln: Well shit, it looks like I have to eat the pebble. [does so] ... … HOLY SHIT, MICHAEL, MY INSIDES ARE GOING TO EXPLODE I AM GOING TO BARF AND SHIT AND DO A LOT OF VERY DISGUSTING THINGS RIGHT NOW. HOW THE FUCK DOES THIS HELP ME I’M GOING TO KILL YOU.
Int. VENT ROOM THING
C-Note: So we’re escaping. This is exciting. Now what?
Michael: Now we just have to break through that old pipe and get to the infirmary that way, where Lincoln will be thanks to the Incredible Shitting Pellet I gave him.
Sucre: Papi so smart.
Michael: Uh… you guys. They replaced the pipe. It’s solid metal. We can’t break it.
Westmoreland: NOOOO!
Sucre: NOOOO!
C-Note: NOOOO!
T-Bag: I AM GOING TO SHANK YOUR STUPID ASS RIGHT NOW IF YOU DON’T FIX THIS PROBLEM, SO WE’D BETTER STOP FOR THE MARCH HIATUS RIGHT FUCKING NOW SO THE WRITERS CAN WORK SOMETHING OUT.
To Be Continued...
Author: circus_sands
Characters: Everybody
Category: Humor
Rating: R (for obscene language and an overabundance of the word "dude")
Summary: This is a Prison Break parody done in script format. Basically, it's ridiculous. Covers the pilot through the S1 fall finale, with more to come eventually.
Author's Notes: This is such crack, but it was so fun to do. Thanks to alazysod for beta-ing and for being, you know, amused.
Michael: I’m really cool and attractive, and I’m a genius, and that’s pretty much all you need to know right now. So just hang out while I rob this bank.
Judge: Your failed robbery sucks and you suck and you need to get locked up in FOX RIVER PRISON RIGHT NOW KTHX.
Michael: I’m so HAPPY. Now I get to save my innocent brother from execution and bust him out of prison and you are absolutely going to buy every single minute of it or at least I hope you do because otherwise my show will get cancelled. HURRAY!
Int. PRISON
Sucre: Don’t be fooled by the rocks that I got, I’m still I’m still Sucre from the block.
Michael: At least you’re nice to look at.
Sucre: Puerto Rican pride. And no funny business, Fish, I don’t roll like that.
Michael: But you’re really nice to look at. As in really nice to look at.
Sucre: Used to have a little now I got a lot, but no matter what I know where I came from (SOUTH SIDE BRONX)!
Michael: Somebody up there must really like me. My cellmate’s the best-looking guy in here. He’s like my ethnic equivalent.
Sucre: How do you spell ‘Sucre’?
Int. CHAPEL
Lincoln: OMGWTF MICHAEL?
Michael: I’m getting you out of here.
Lincoln: STFU THAT’S IMPOSSIBLE.
Michael: Not if you repeat lines for the previews it isn’t.
Lincoln: THAT’S A GOOD POINT.
Michael: I have conveniently tattooed the blueprints on my body and my elaborate plan can be hatched within two weeks and then we can run away to Panama together and it’ll be AWSUM.
Lincoln: MICHAEL I REALLY APPRECIATE IT BUT YOU’RE GOING TO GET YOUR ASS KICKED HERE, I’M SORRY.
Michael: Haha no I don’t think so.
Abruzzi: Welcome to prison. I am an Italian Mafioso and I have a Swedish accent. I don’t look at people when I speak to them, I cannot explain my hair, and I have a tendency to express myself as though I have a speech impediment. Why am I talking to you again?
Michael: Because I have secret information about the location of the guy who got you sent to jail.
Abruzzi: O rite. We’ll talk later.
Michael: Okay! So I’m sure it’ll be fine if I try to take a nail out of these bleachers here.
Random Inmate: Dude, the hell are you doing. These are T-Bag’s bleachers.
Michael: LMAO T-BAG??
T-Bag: BELIEVE IT. Also, I’m an inbred racist rapist from Alabama and I enjoy killing and raping children and making newcomers my bitches. I also like stabbing people and having sex with their dead bodies. Welcome to prison! Be my bitch? It’ll be fun! We can have slumber parties!
Michael: Thx but no.
T-Bag: WHAT YOU TOTALLY REJECTED ME. But I can’t kill you yet because I’m sure you’ll come around to my side soon enough. Also if I do, this would be one short-lived TV show.
T-Bag’s Bitch: I HAVE ONE LINE AND NOW I AM DEAD. (But fandom will inexplicably obsess over me so I guess I’ll live on in spirit.)
Michael: Oh, I’m sad you’re dead even though I think you just tried to kill me.
T-Bag: HOMG YOU KILLED MY BITCH, SO NOW I’M GOING TO HAVE TO KILL YOU.
Abruzzi: HEY DICKHEAD, YOU WANT TO TELL ME WHERE FIBONACCI IS OR DO I HAVE TO CUT OFF TWO OF YOUR TOES.
Michael: Is there a third option? I think I somehow got the two worst guys in here really mad at me within one day.
Abruzzi: I’ll count to three, and then the toes are gone.
Michael: Well I’m not going to tell you so-OW SHIT!
Int. CAFETERIA
Abruzzi: So the toe thing didn’t work. Want to help me scare him to death?
T-Bag: I’m so there. Can I bring my knife?
Abruzzi: Only if you promise to call me if people start drinking, and remember, NO DRUGS. AND NO SEX.
T-Bag: But Mommmm…
Int. RANDOM SKETCHY SIDE ROOM
Abruzzi’s Friend: [drags Michael in]
Abruzzi: So basically, you really upset me when you wouldn’t tell me about that guy even after I cut off your toes. I cried about it for a while, but then I decided to accept the life philosophy of the Beatles, and now I’ve decided to try one more thing to make you change your mind and tell me where he is.
T-Bag: WHAT’S UP.
Abruzzi: LOLZ HAVE FUN GUYS.
T-Bag: OMG. This is going to be PG and excellent. I think I’ll allude to stabbing you and then I’ll vaguely refer to raping you and then I’ll-
Abruzzi: [punches T-Bag in the face] I changed my mind. You’re gross. Come on, Michael, let’s leave. This is my way of saying I want to be your friend!
Michael: No wonder nobody liked you in high school.
Abruzzi: And I’ll help you out with this escape thing, too. It’ll be fun, we can bake cookies.
Int. CHAPEL
Lincoln: SO YOU’RE MISSING TWO TOES, YOU’VE ALMOST BEEN SEXUALLY ASSAULTED, YOU’VE HELD A DYING BITCH’S BODY, AND YOU THINK IT’S ALL GOING WELL?
Michael: Why yes.
Lincoln: Okay cool.
Michael: Hey, you seem more mellow today.
Lincoln: I’ve been doing some intense thinking about my life. And I’ve discovered something. I only have three emotions: anger, confusion, and emo.
Michael: Just have a little faith.
Lincoln: THAT’S MY LINE!
Michael: And we’re back.
Int. SICK WARD
Sara: Hello, Michael, I’ll be your love interest for the day.
Michael: Make that all season, baby.
Sara: … I’ll forgive you for that because you’re hot. So I’m a little suspicious of you but I’m also intrigued. And I think I might be stalking you. A little.
Michael: That’s okay, baby, you can stalk me all night long.
Sara: You know, I don’t think you normally sound like that. I think there is something fishy going on with you.
Michael: I think it’s because whenever I see you I’m on permanent flirt-mode, baby. Shall we shag now or shall we shag later?
Int. GEN-POP
T-Bag: Can I call a riot? It’s really fucking hot in here.
Michael: Excellent, my plan is working.
Sucre: You want to piss T-Bag off more?
Michael: No, I need to drill through a solid wall and I’m using a picture of the devil to do it. And it needs to be hot in here so that the prisoners riot and I get the time I need to go drill.
Sucre: Ay caramba.
CO Geary: I CALL LOCKDOWN AND GOD HELP US.
T-Bag: Rape, kill, rape, kill.
Abruzzi: Threaten, sweat profusely, threaten, sweat profusely.
Lincoln: GET OUT OF HERE PLZ.
T-Bag: RAPE AND KILL, RAPE AND KILL.
Lincoln: DUDE I GOTTA BREAK SOME SKULLS. [does so]
T-Bag: I’ll give you drugs if you give me the C.O. you’re attached to?
Lincoln: Nothx.
T-Bag: KFINE.
DRAMATIC FIGHT ensues. LINCOLN kicks RANDOM ASS. T-BAG stands around and eventually hits him with a PIPE.
T-Bag: THX FOR THE C.O., SORRY BUT YOU AREN’T MY TYPE.
CO Bob: Fuck.
Int. RANDOM TUNNEL INSIDE WALL
Michael: Come on, Sucre, let’s do this.
Sucre: Right here, Michael? Right now? Don’t you think it’s a little public?
Michael: Sucre, we’re in a passageway inside the prison walls. Do you really think someone is going to walk right by?
Sucre: Well, if you say so. [takes off shirt]
Michael: DRILL. I’ll BRB.
Sucre: … Oh. Right.
Int. CELL
T-Bag: I think I’ll parade around with the C.O. for a while and be inexplicably worshipped by the whole prison-black people too. Come on friend, let’s have some public sex.
CO Bob: WHAT IS MY LIFE.
T-Bag: So this one time, at Hitler youth camp-HEY I FOUND THE HOLE THEY ARE TRYING TO-
Abruzzi: I’m going to do what I do best and invade your personal space in an intense and sexually ambiguous manner. [does so]
T-Bag: I’m disturbed. But it’s okay, since it’s our hole. And our escape and our plan and I was definitely in on this the entire time what are you talking about.
Abruzzi: I think he thinks he’s part of it now.
Michael: Oh holy Jesus.
Abruzzi: And the CO knows about our hole.
Michael: Oh holy Jesus.
T-Bag: SUCKS TO BE YOU.
CO Bob: Oh random con I have never met before, PLEASE DON’T LEAVE ME WITH THIS PSYCHO. HE TIED ME UP WITH MY OWN SHOELACE.
Sucre: I’m sorry dude, I gotta go back down and drill some more.
CO Bob: GODDAMMIT.
T-Bag: RAPE AND KILL, RAPE AND KILL.
Abruzzi: There will be no raping or killing.
T-Bag: I hate you.
Michael: I have to BRB. There’s a certain doctor who needs saving.
Int. SICK WARD
Sara: I am, in essence, screwed.
Scary Cons: RAPE AND KILL RAPE AND KILL.
Black Con: I will now lick your neck and you will flip a shit and this will be in ALL the posters and promos for this show because the people who make them are fucked up. [does so]
Michael: I’M HERE TO SAVE YOU, BABY!
Sara: Oh thank GOD! YET I AM HESITATING BECAUSE I AM JUST THAT STUPID!
Michael: … Seriously, baby. Me or the rapist who just licked your neck?
Sara: Good point. So how did you get up here again?
Michael: Oh uh… Mold, PI, blah blah blah you know, same old same. But enough about me, let’s talk about you. So have you ever been to Thailand? There’s a great beer place in Mexico. There’s also a great party in my pants.
Sara: Shouldn’t we be moving along now?
Michael: That’s a good plan. Here, let me jump out of this tunnel in the ceiling first, and then I can catch you and have a nice and awkward romantic moment with you!
Sara: You think I'm goorrgeous, you want to kiiiiss me, you want to huuug me, you want to looove me, you want to smooooch me...
Michael: Wow, baby, you sure catch on fast.
Int. MICHAEL’S CELL
T-Bag: Why don’t I address in vulgar and uncomfortable terms exactly why I’m in prison. I’ll start with you, Bob.
CO Bob: I HATE MY LIFE.
T-Bag: I’M SKEEVY!
Abruzzi: I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU TO STOP FREAKING THE VIEWERS OUT. DO I NEED TO INVADE YOUR PERSONAL SPACE AGAIN?
T-Bag: I wonder what it says about you if you make me physically uncomfortable.
Int. FRONT YARD
Governor: OMGGZZZ.
Sara: Sob, I’m okay, Daddy. I was locked in a room and I was almost raped by five extremely large convicted felons! But it’s okay.
Governor: THE POINT IS I TOTALLY TOLD YOU SO. OKAY BYE.
Sara: Wow, I hate my life. On the bright side, at least I’m not dead.
Bob: CAN’T REALLY SAY THE SAME FOR ME.
THE NEXT DAY OR SOMETHING.
Michael: So. Paul Newman. How’s it going.
Westmoreland: I’m good, had my Wheaties this morning and then I played bridge with myself for five hours, and then I cleaned my dentures.
Michael: That’s nice. I need you to help me out.
Westmoreland: No.
Michael: Cat?
Westmoreland: OH MY GOD YOU OWN MY SOUL. I MISSED YOU MARILYN! [fondles the cat]
Michael: So. Help?
Westmoreland: Sorry, buddy.
Michael: You fucking suck.
Int. HALLWAY
Veronica’s Apartment: [EXPLODES]
Nick: Well shit.
Int. LJ’S HOUSE
Hale: Hi. I’m your local Secret Service agent posing as some official you don’t really need to worry about right now, since I mean it’s probably pretty clear that I have a gun and I guess I’m sort of conflicted about this whole scenario but I mean, I can’t really do anything right?
Kellerman: Jesus Christ, shut the FUCK up. We still need to murder this kid’s parents.
LJ: I officially have the worst life ever.
Lincoln: Um, excuse me?
LJ: No. Seriously. Worst life ever. Right here.
Lincoln: Okay, you win. For now.
Int. PRISON
Random Con: Damn, that shit’s fucked up.
Random Con #2: What?
Random Con: Dead cat.
Random Con #2: Didn’t you rape and kill a pregnant woman?
Random Con: … That’s not the point.
Westmoreland: IHU BELLICK. MY NAME IS CHARLES WESTMORELAND. YOU KILLED MY CAT. PREPARE TO DIE.
Int. YARD
Guard’s Room: [EXPLODES]
Michael: Well, that worked out nicely.
Int. SHOWER
Seth: Help.
Michael: No.
T-Bag: I’M SKEEVY!
Seth: [hangs himself]
Michael: I am really broken up about this. Like, really broken up about it. I’m really, really broken up about it. I think I’m… oh wait, wait… oh, yes, I do believe that is a tear right there.
Lincoln: Oh shut up, Michael and start breaking me out of here.
Int. YARD
C-Note: It’s hard out here for a pimp.
Tweener: Dag, yo.
C-Note: Shut the fuck up.
Tweener: … It’s cool, yo, I’ll find my own dawgs.
T-Bag: Hi, how are you? You have lovely eyes. Can I touch you inappropriately?
Tweener: NO.
T-Bag: GODDAMMIT WTF IS WITH YOU PEOPLE.
Michael: Excuse me, would it be okay if you-
T-Bag: STOPPED HITTING ON EVERYTHING IN SIGHT? NO. NO THAT WOULD NOT BE OKAY.
Michael: This is going to be an issue.
Int. GUARD’S ROOM
CO Louis: EVERYBODY OUT I GOTTA MAKE WITH THE LOVE WITH THE WHITEST BITCH ON THE FACE OF GOD’S GREEN EARTH.
Lincoln: YOU HORNY DOG, GOTTA LOVE YOU.
Int. PSYCHIATRIC OFFICE
Sara: So you’re telling me Michael’s retarded?
Psychiatrist: Sort of. In the way that being retarded makes you a total freaking genius with mad skills that could aid you in breaking out of a maximum security prison. If you were, you know, so inclined.
Sara: That’s so strange, he never mentioned he was retarded.
Psychiatrist: WELL THEN I GUESS YOU DON’T KNOW HIM TOO WELL. NOW STOP MAKING YOUR CRUSH OBSCENELY CONSPICUOUS AND LEAVE THANKS.
Int. YARD
Sara: So I heard you were the next Gandhi.
Michael: Haha yeah kind of. Be the Angelina to my Brad?
Sara: OKAY!
Michael: Well, I have no use for you at the moment, so off you go. Go on, mush.
Sara: OKAY!
Int. BUS
Kellerman: Well goddammit to motherfucking hell, this kid is smarter than we thought.
Hale: Does this mean I won’t be home in time for pie?
Vice President of the United Motherfucking States: In case you didn’t know who this strange Martha Stewart-esque blonde woman on the phone all the time was… I’m the Vice President of the United Motherfucking States. And I’m really glad you killed that innocent child, because if you didn’t I WOULD HAVE KILLED YOU BOTH. NO WIRE HANGERS!!!
Kellerman: See, I told you lying was a good idea.
Hale: I want my mommy.
Int. GUARD’S ROOM
T-Bag: I’M SKEEVY!
Michael: [crowbars]
T-Bag: FUCK THIS I AM SO TELLING ON YOU.
Michael: Stop raping the children. And I know you won’t say anything because you want to get out of here too, and also if you do try to say anything I’ll probably kill you with my middle-distance stare.
T-Bag: Can’t really argue with that. Alright, no underage children.
Michael: And you have to do everything I say.
Abruzzi: LOL you’re like his bitch now.
T-Bag: WHAT IS HAPPENING TO THE WORLD?
Int. RANDOM HOTEL ROOM
Quinn: Hi, my name is Doctor Quinn, Medicine Woman, and I’m here to fix your problems. I’ll start by breaking your hand, and then we’ll move on to the torturing of the lawyers, and then finally the killing of the innocents.
Kellerman: Fuck you. Sounds good, though.
Hale: I hate my life.
Int. PRISON VISITING AREA
Mob Boss Guy with an Actual Italian Accent™: Fuck your stupid face, fuck your stupid clothes, fuck your stupid lack of hair-
Michael: I’m sorry, I just win at life. I don’t know what to tell you.
Abruzzi: Dude, you’re being snotty with my boss. I’ll cut you?
Michael: Yeah right. Can we please keep to the part about me being awesome.
Mob Boss: Alright, fine. You’re good. But if you screw with me again, I’ll probably eviscerate you.
Michael: Gee, this is like the tenth anniversary of that phrase being directed at me. I’m fucking hardcore.
Int. GUARD’S ROOM
CO Nameless: HEY THERE SCOFIELD, TIME TO BONE YOUR WIFE.
Abruzzi: WHAT.
T-Bag: THAT’S NOT FAAAAIIR!
Sucre: I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU DIDN’T TELL ME!
C-Note: Making us do your damn work, lazy-ass cracker.
Sara: I am so mad at you, if I stare at you long enough it’s just possible your head might burst into flames.
Michael: Baby, let me explain! She doesn’t mean anything to me!
Sara: She’s your wife.
Michael: It was the green card, baby! So I help Eastern European immigrants, that’s just me being generous and philanthropic like always, right, baby?
Sara: Isn’t she like, a stripper?
Michael: … That’s not the point.
Int. RANDOM SHED
Quinn: Hi, I’m here to torture you. I hope that’s okay.
Nick: I’VE BEEN SHOT!
Veronica: [knocks Quinn over with a chair]
LJ: [knocks Quinn into a well]
Nick: I’m so glad I have you both to protect me.
Kellerman: HAHA, SUCKS TO BE YOU QUINN.
Quinn: Dude you are NOT sealing me up in here! NO YOU ARE NOT. OKAY YOU ARE. THAT’S FINE, I’LL JUST ROT DOWN HERE. AND I’LL COME BACK TO HAUNT YOU THROUGH YOUR TELEVISION SETS. THAT’S FINE. SEVEN DAYS, BITCH.
Int. GUARD’S ROOM
Michael: Lincoln, we have too many people, and this needs to be kept confidential.
C-Note: SHIT. HEY EVERYBODY, WE HAVE TOO MANY PEOPLE.
Michael: So much for that…
Abruzzi: Well obviously we know who we want to be out.
Lincoln: Yeah seriously.
Sucre: Who?
[thirty seconds later]
Sucre: OHH T-Bag, I got it. Okay.
T-Bag: Did I miss something? You all look so mysterious. Hey, this is like that time I walked in on Abruzzi trying to bone one of the guards. Boy, was that awkward.
Abruzzi: Shut up, you’re so fucking gay.
T-Bag: Oh yeah? Know how I know you’re gay? ‘Cause you try to kiss everybody when you talk to them.
Abruzzi: Know I know you’re gay? You spend way too much time on your hair.
T-Bag: Know how I know you’re gay? You have a Swedish accent.
Abruzzi: Know how I know you’re gay? You like Barbara Streisand.
T-Bag: OH BITCH YOU DID NOT-
Michael: Guys, can we save this for some other time.
T-Bag: Well I’m not leaving, so. You can figure something else out.
Int. SICK WARD
Michael: Baby, I’m sorry.
Sara: Haha choke and die!
Int. SHED
T-Bag: Know how I know you’re gay? YOU’RE PRAYING TO GOD.
Abruzzi: Know how I know you’re gay? You just burst into tears.
T-Bag: Know how I know you’re gay? You just asked to be left alone with me in a shed and you’re invading my personal space.
Abruzzi: Know how I know you’re gay? YOU FUCK MEN.
T-Bag: FUCK YOU. Oh, I just totally slit your throat, haha oh shit.
Abruzzi: Fuck this, I’m doing Volkswagen commercials. [gurgles]
Int. YARD
Sucre: Holy shit, what happened to Abruzzi?
T-Bag: LOL I HAVE NO IDEA.
Michael: Well, now we have the right number of people, but shit, my brother’s in solitary.
C-Note: We don’t care. We’re LEAVING TONIGHT, CRACKER.
T-Bag: Yeah for serious.
Michael: SHUT UP, ALL OF YOU. LOOK, YOU’RE MAKING ME EXPRESS RAGE. I HATE EXPRESSING RAGE. IT GIVES ME LINES ON MY FACE THAT COULD GIVE ME WRINKLES WHEN I GET OLDER.
Int. MICHAEL’S CELL
Michael: Priest, since I’m so religious and my brother’s about to, you know, die, would you give this cross to my brother. I swear there’s nothing sketchy going on.
Priest: Sure!!
Int. LINCOLN’S CELL
Lincoln: EAT 8:10?? WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN? Hey Guard, what time is it?
C.O. Random: 8:10.
Lincoln: Well shit, it looks like I have to eat the pebble. [does so] ... … HOLY SHIT, MICHAEL, MY INSIDES ARE GOING TO EXPLODE I AM GOING TO BARF AND SHIT AND DO A LOT OF VERY DISGUSTING THINGS RIGHT NOW. HOW THE FUCK DOES THIS HELP ME I’M GOING TO KILL YOU.
Int. VENT ROOM THING
C-Note: So we’re escaping. This is exciting. Now what?
Michael: Now we just have to break through that old pipe and get to the infirmary that way, where Lincoln will be thanks to the Incredible Shitting Pellet I gave him.
Sucre: Papi so smart.
Michael: Uh… you guys. They replaced the pipe. It’s solid metal. We can’t break it.
Westmoreland: NOOOO!
Sucre: NOOOO!
C-Note: NOOOO!
T-Bag: I AM GOING TO SHANK YOUR STUPID ASS RIGHT NOW IF YOU DON’T FIX THIS PROBLEM, SO WE’D BETTER STOP FOR THE MARCH HIATUS RIGHT FUCKING NOW SO THE WRITERS CAN WORK SOMETHING OUT.
To Be Continued...