Over in his own cell, Jack can hear Sawyer's screams crackling through the supposedly broken intercom.
Back in the torture chamber, Jason is correcting the other underling's technique, telling him he's got to go through the sternum, "like in the movie," he says. Hee. The Others count to three, with Sawyer yelling "WAIT!" as best as he can through the bit in his mouth.
Paulo is on the beach, knocking guava or mangos or whatever into the ocean. Oh, Paulo! At it again! Everybody drink! Desmond strolls up and says he's going to borrow one of this clubs, and Hurley said it would be okay. "Does that mean you're off to save the day?" says Paulo, whatever the hell that's supposed to mean. He tells Desmond to take the five-iron, as he never uses it. Which is true. We've certainly never seen him use it. "That way, when you die in the jungle, doing whatever you're doing, I don't have to go looking for it," he adds, like JUST WHAT IS HIS PROBLEM? Desmond watches Paulo top his next shot and suggests squaring his shoulders. "You play golf?" says Paulo, as though hitting tropical fruit into the ocean has anything to do with golf, and Desmond points out that he's Scottish. Nice, Desmond. Similarly, I'm Canadian, therefore I play hockey. No wait, that's true. Okay: similarly, I'm Canadian, therefore I say "eh" a lot. Okay, bad examples. Let's just move on.
Sawyer's still strapped down, but the Others might want to consider gagging him, too, because he's waking up, and it's when he's awake that he likes shooting off his mouth the most. He lifts his head as best he can and sees a Band-Aid on his chest, and next to it a much larger gauze bandage with a bloodstain in the middle of it. He's barely had time to contemplate this, when in walks Zeke, carrying a cage with a rabbit with a spray-painted "8" on its hindquarters in it, and Ben.
Zeke sets the cage down on Sawyer's chest. This is, as you might expect, somewhat vexing to Sawyer, who seems to think, as I did, that this was obviously some mutant rabid rabbit. Instead, Ben picks up the cage and starts rattling it, yelling, "Hey! Come on!" at the bunny, which I guess understands English. Sawyer wants to know what he's doing, but Ben ignores him in favour of yelling "hippity-hop!" at this poor creature, which has started shaking and cowering in a corner of its cage. After several frantic, confusing seconds, the rabbit keels over in the cage. "Did you just kill that bunny?" says Sawyer. Ben puts the cage down and asks Sawyer if he knows what a pacemaker is. Sawyer doesn't answer, which is just as well, because Ben explains that they're inserting in the chests of people who've had bypass surgery. It gives the heart a little "kick-start" when it needs it. But the rabbit had a pacemaker set to deliver its kick-start if it got too excited, or anxious, or frightened... "or tried to escape." So... it's a pacemaker that makes your heart blow up? Do they provide rubber crutches for physical therapy patients too? Seriously, what the hell? Anyway, Ben's got a watch-style heart-rate monitor, which he straps onto Sawyer's left wrist. Ben says that, assuming Sawyer was telling the truth about his height and weight (and you should always assume Sawyer's telling the truth), his resting heart rate should be about 70 beats per minute, and his active rate 140. "Which is the point at which your pacemaker" -- he nods at Sawyer's chest -- "will cause your heart to explode." Seriously, does this company's investors know about this? Sawyer lays his head back down on the table, as the Others loosen his straps. "Which is how I know that you're gonna start behaving now."