Inside LCF at the newsletter headquarters, the women are preparing the next issue for publication. It appears Flaca's request to do a "Dear Flaca" type of column has come to fruition, and she already has a question from a reader: "My bunkie's lifting my shit. How should I handle the situation?" Being the sage that she is, Flaca responds, "Try to reason with the bitch to lay off the sticky fingers, but if she doesn't listen, you know, drag her to a place where no one can see, and bash her head real good." Oh, good God. From behind Flaca, Sister Ingalls makes a loud "Shhh!" in their direction, but Flaca only gives her a middle finger in response. Not taking it quietly, Sister Ingalls reminds her, "Jesus saw that." Pfft...ha ha ha. Yes. So good. Getting back to the Dear Flaca matter, Piper tells Flaca that her response will not get the administration's approval, so she suggests, "Why don't you tell her to go buy a sturdy lock at
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the commissary?" Flaca: "That's what I'm saying. Buy a lock. Stick it in a sock, and slock the bitch down." Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I would not assign Flaca to anything dealing with conflict resolution. I also am no longer surprised that she is in prison.
Afterwards, Piper notifies the ladies that she won't be here in a few days because of furlough. At this, the women lose their shit in disbelief. Piper tells them she's going to go say goodbye to her grandmother, but Flaca proposes something else, "Yo, get that shit out of the way in, like, in five minutes. You know, say what you gotta say, like, super quick. Then be like, 'Peace, abuelita! I'll be in the club with my Long Island and my fatty, making it clap!'" Yes, what more could you want as your last words from your granddaughter than a Spanish term you don't understand and a reference to alcohol and making one's butt cheeks clap together? Flaca is just a peach. Bringing up a good point, Daya cautions, "Girls are gonna be pissed at you. I kinda wanna punch you right now. You better watch your back." From behind, Sister Ingalls walks up and asks, "You got furlough, Chapman? I've been in the Catholic Church a lot of years and this is my first honest-to-goodness miracle. Use it well." Yes, by |
Lorna Morello - the Gloria Steinem of LCF
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getting wasted and shakin' yo booty in the club. Piper assures Sister Ingalls that she will use her furlough for good, saying she wants to ask her grandmother all the questions she hasn't had the chance to, yet. Well, I would heed Daya's advice, because not everyone's going to be thrilled that the blonde-haired, blue-eyed, white girl received the almost mythological furlough, when no one else ever does. #whitegirlproblems
Elsewhere, while Rosa is receiving her chemotherapy, the accompanying guard, Officer Ford, walks over to the hospital parking garage to check on Morello. Thankfully, she and the van are still parked right where they belong. She tells Ford, "Fischer never came to visit when she had Rosa." Yeah, thank your lucky stars for that, too. "You know what she'd do? She'd bring me a Heath bar and a cold Dr. Pepper at the end of the day. Isn't that thoughtful? Maybe you could do that when you come to check on me." Unswayed, he responds, "I'll see you in an hour, Morello." Swing and a miss.
In Sophia's salon, Piper is waiting her turn, while DeMarco is in the chair. Wait a minute, isn't DeMarco the same person who said she wouldn't ever let Sophia the "he/she" touch her hair? Yes, yes she is. This is either a continuity error or DeMarco has grown as a human being. Let's hope for the latter. In the salon, however, Piper is the focus, with Sophia commenting, "Look at you thinking you're all hot shit 'cause you got furlough. I ought to give you a skullet." Asking the exact question I have, DeMarco: "What's a skullet?" "A mullet with the top shaved," explains Sophia. Oooh boy, Piper would be lookin' slammin' in that. Do it!
Elsewhere, while Rosa is receiving her chemotherapy, the accompanying guard, Officer Ford, walks over to the hospital parking garage to check on Morello. Thankfully, she and the van are still parked right where they belong. She tells Ford, "Fischer never came to visit when she had Rosa." Yeah, thank your lucky stars for that, too. "You know what she'd do? She'd bring me a Heath bar and a cold Dr. Pepper at the end of the day. Isn't that thoughtful? Maybe you could do that when you come to check on me." Unswayed, he responds, "I'll see you in an hour, Morello." Swing and a miss.
In Sophia's salon, Piper is waiting her turn, while DeMarco is in the chair. Wait a minute, isn't DeMarco the same person who said she wouldn't ever let Sophia the "he/she" touch her hair? Yes, yes she is. This is either a continuity error or DeMarco has grown as a human being. Let's hope for the latter. In the salon, however, Piper is the focus, with Sophia commenting, "Look at you thinking you're all hot shit 'cause you got furlough. I ought to give you a skullet." Asking the exact question I have, DeMarco: "What's a skullet?" "A mullet with the top shaved," explains Sophia. Oooh boy, Piper would be lookin' slammin' in that. Do it!
If he puts his grubby little claws on even one bottle of my extensive lotion collection...
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She is so freakin' weird
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DeMarco asks Piper about her plans for her 48 hours of freedom, and Piper explains in a no-big-deal kind of way: "Be with my family...watch my grandmother fade away." The fun never stops with her. DeMarco rejects this answer: "Oh, come on. That can't be it." Sophia questions, "You gonna stay with your husband?" Piper corrects, "No...well, he's not my husband, and I don't even know if we're friends anymore. I mean, when I think of my home, I think of where we lived together, but I don't live there anymore. I don't even know if my stuff is still there. I don't even know if my lotions are on the sink or he took them all and he put them in a bag and they're all just leakin' all over each other. Or if he just left them there. God forbid he should change, or do, or notice anything." Goodness, this conversation drove right into shitville without warning. Piper, all the ladies wanted to hear was just some of the possible fun things you would do with your furlough - not the ramblings of a Larry Bloom ex regarding where her lotions may or may not be. Get a grip!
Bypassing the crazy, DeMarco inquires, "So, how'd you do it, Chapman? Did you give Healy a little reach-around?" "God, no, no.
Bypassing the crazy, DeMarco inquires, "So, how'd you do it, Chapman? Did you give Healy a little reach-around?" "God, no, no.
Aw, man...please don't tell my mom
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No!" denies Piper. I'd be adamant about that, too. She tells them that maybe LCF is just gaining a heart finally. DeMarco calls "Bullshit!" on this, bringing up the two times she asked for furlough and got rudely denied. Sophia brings up her own failed attempt at furlough, "My father had a lung transplant that didn't take. We hadn't spoken since I transitioned. He was a real hardass, but in the end, he started asking for me. He even used my new name, Sophia. (Awwwww) People get soft, you know, when they dying. If I could've seen him, I don't know...may have felt like closure, but we don't get a lot of that in this life now, do we?" Well, there's a nice heaping spoonful of guilt! Wow. Considerately, Sophia adds, "But grandmothers, they important, too." Aw, man, Piper, isn't it nice and convenient that the one time Healy decides to not be terrible is to benefit your silly behind? Lucky girl.
In the auditorium, a newly fired Office Fischer (oh no!) comes across Nichols, who is smoking a cigarette and listening to some music. Yeah, that's pretty much not allowed at all. Seeing Fischer's face above her, Nichols curses herself and then tries to start talking her way out of this mess, "Hey, listen, in the grand scheme of things, I mean, what's a cigarette, really? You know, it's a plant and some paper. When you think |
about all the horrible things I could be doing." Fischer tells her in a sad tone, "Smoke all you want. I don't care anymore. I got fired." Nichols replies to this news, "Hey, good for you."
Shaking her head, Fischer says, "You don't get it. What am I gonna do now? I'm not good at stuff." Trying to comfort her, Nichols says, "Well, for sure, you weren't great at this." Fischer gives her a look of "Hey, that's not helping," forcing Nichols to explain, "But that reflects highly on you, trust me. You're a decent human being. Getting canned from this soul-sucking pit is the best thing that ever happened to you. Go home, take a hot bath, and start looking into technical colleges. Or cosmetology. Learn to wax armpits and vag lips." And it started out so well...Smiling at Nichols' kind words, Fischer takes a moment to ask her, "Like, a while back, were you hitting on me?" Nichols: "We don't dream, we die, right?" Nichols, damn it, you are so smooth sometimes!
Shaking her head, Fischer says, "You don't get it. What am I gonna do now? I'm not good at stuff." Trying to comfort her, Nichols says, "Well, for sure, you weren't great at this." Fischer gives her a look of "Hey, that's not helping," forcing Nichols to explain, "But that reflects highly on you, trust me. You're a decent human being. Getting canned from this soul-sucking pit is the best thing that ever happened to you. Go home, take a hot bath, and start looking into technical colleges. Or cosmetology. Learn to wax armpits and vag lips." And it started out so well...Smiling at Nichols' kind words, Fischer takes a moment to ask her, "Like, a while back, were you hitting on me?" Nichols: "We don't dream, we die, right?" Nichols, damn it, you are so smooth sometimes!
You up for a goodbye hump?
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Luschek: At least a handy-j?
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Curious, Nichols asks, "So, how'd I do?" Fischer admits, "I thought about it." Really?! Nichols, also surprised, questions, "Seriously?" In a bigger smile, Fischer tells her, "Not in a thousand years...but, thank you." Well played, Fischer, well played. With this nice parting exchange, Nichols tells Fischer, "Susan, pack your shit and get the fuck out of here." Knowing she's right, Fischer nods her head and starts to walk out, when Luschek runs in after hearing the news. When she confirms that she was fired, he rolls his head back and merely says, "Lame." Seeing him for the suckfest that he is, she walks past him without another word. Good for you, Fischer! You'll be missed!