Cut to Crazy Weaver asking Maggie how the food was in her previous situation. She says that when she could stomach eating with a bunch of degenerate psychos, the food wasn't bad. And Pope did indeed prepare it. Uncle Scott notes that Pope apparently trained in prison, and says he's an advocate of putting him to the test. Weaver is wary, which is exactly the right instinct, but Uncle Scott points out that he'll be under guard at all times and that everyone is fucking sick of eating oatmeal. Pope enters, guarded by Anthony, and when asked if he'd like to cook notes that they've got 50 cans of lima beans, 32 cans of tuna fish, chicken and rice. He adds, "Rots and rotsa rice," which denotes that he's still a racist asshole, but also would have been more effective if Dai were his guard. With Anthony, I personally would have gone with a chicken joke. Pope is not impressed with the scrounging ability of the 2nd Mass and points out that the Riverbottom Nightmare Band hunted. Anthony, who is seriously sick of the racist bullshit, points out that there were only 12 degenerate psychos and 300 2nd Mass residents. He sticks his gun into Pope's back and screams that maybe he can't hack it. It's so Y chromosome that these dudes get all agro on the subject of a chicken dinner. Pope points out that he cooked Thanksgiving dinner for three entire cell blocks, which is 170 inmates. If they didn't like his food, well...he doesn't say this explicitly, but basically he'd be ass-raped through Christmas Eve. Weaver says that the facilities are substandard, the provisions are meager and right now they have to cook on camp stoves. Nevertheless, Pope accepts the job, adding, "But for the love of God could somebody please get me some olive oil." EVOO only for this gourmand!
Tom goes to see Anne, who's organizing supplies with an assist from fucking Lourdes. (She does nothing blatantly horrible during this episode, but TRUST.) He asks if Anne's talked to the doctor who devised the harness removal theory. She has, briefly, and says that the procedure is simple to the point of elegance. The guy, well, he's very smart, very capable and very sure he's the best man for the job. In other words, a huge dick. Tom supposes he's also good looking and Lourdes guesses he is, for an older man of about 40. Tom gives a flirty, "Ouch," which is really meant for Anne, who in turn giggles, because now the only way these two can flirt is through an intermediary Jesus freak. Post-apocalyptic romance is hard, yo. Anne says that the miracle doctor is none other than Michael Harris and Tom gets a REALLY weird look on his face that, for some reason, makes his nose look super long. She asks if he knows Dr. Harris. And then! It turns out that we ALL know Dr. Harris, because he is Steven Weber from Wings! Trust me, I'm just as excited as you are. Tom gives him a complicated look and says, "Michael. You're alive." And Dr. Wings is all, "Ditto." And then they hug an awkward bro hug and we head to a tension-laden commercial break.