Elsewhere, Murphy is being berated by Claire in the guards' lunch room. She's obviously pissed about getting disciplined by Leo, but even though her little spiel includes the hilarious phrase "Justice? Justice my pink ass!" I'm still having a hard time understanding how their punishment for performing unauthorized surgery on an inmate is only the loss of a single week's vacation. For God's sake, if you take out a tendon on a football field, even the NFL will suspend you for longer than that. Especially if you pull out a Sharpie and sign it when you're done. Claire stomps off to go buy some pig's blood in anticipation of the big awards banquet, and then McManus comes in to subject us all to a long touchy-feely where he tries to come to grips with the fact that his best friend has opted to eschew the healing powers of meditative mazes and instead apply a more direct form of rehabilitative therapy. Sensing that perhaps Officer Murphy hasn't been penalized enough for his crimes, Timmy demands that Murphy buy him dinner that night as further punishment. Oh, yeah. That'll learn him.
Back in the hospital, Nurse Nasty finds Morales looking groggy in his bed. She cheerfully explains that she's sedated him so that he can't struggle, and after telling him that he's a "nasty man" who deserves to die, she pulls out his pillow and suffocates him with it. Or does she? It never gets mentioned again in the episode, which you'd think it would, but that's true of so many other murders here in Oz that I'd actually be more surprised if someone DID notice.
Sigh. Norma and Busmalis. Yawn. She's brought the baby. He likes the baby. She wants to get married. He says yes. She calls him "Agamemnon" three times in five seconds. He smells the baby a lot. Whatever.
And the hits just keep on coming! Rebadoze goes to see McManus, and begs to be switched out of the library. After ascertaining that he hasn't "forgotten the fucking alphabet," McManus promptly denies his request. From there we cut to Patti, reporting that neither Rebadow nor the neck string have been into work the past few days. I have to wonder who it was that sat around in the writer's room and decided that what this plotline needed was a big dose of Timbo to liven things up. It's like I'm in subplot hell over here. Somewhere out there, Jean-Paul Sartre is laughing at me. And as if Timmy's mere presence alone wasn't enough to send me screaming into the night, we're now also forced to listen as he delivers a big steaming pile of exposition about Rebadow's dead grandson. This is stuff even I already knew, mind you, and I don't even watch this show unless I'm getting paid for it. So why are we wasting time on it? Who knows?
The next day, Patti sits smugly in the library and listens as Pablo gushes over his latest reading assignment. Now it is possible that my mainstream education may be somewhat incomplete, but I have to admit that I'm not immediately familiar with any literary classics that feature a scene in which baseball players drill holes in a wall so they can watch stewardesses fuck. Although it does sound like something Sars might know. Any thoughts? (Oh, please. She's a baseball fan, people, not a peeping tom. Get your minds out of the gutter.) ["Bouton's Ball Four is one of those books every adolescent boy reads because there's cursing and sex and whatnot. Actually not a bad call on Patti's part to recommend it to Pablo." -- Sars] And speaking of minds in the gutter, Patti's next recommendation is Fear of Flying by Erica Jong. Yeah, right. Like a prison library would even have that book, and if they did, I'm sure some intelligently onanistic inmate would be hoarding it under his pillow by now. Shut up, Slutty. Rebadoze wanders in at this point, and Patti jumps up to go annoy him for a while. She pleads with him to understand that her breast cancer isn't fatal, and that he's missing out on a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to "experience the joy" and go "piping down the valleys wild" with her. Then she offers him a "zipless fuck," and they run off to the nearest storage closet. When they return, reeking of Viagra and Ben-Gay, Rebadow displays some of that wisdom old people are always supposed to possess and chooses to ignore her completely. This doesn't sit well with Pablo, who obviously doesn't like to see anyone mess with the patronizing white lady who provides him with soft-core porn on a regular basis. He jumps up and throws Rebadow against the wall, threatening him with unspecified violence unless he treats Patti with respect. Oh, Pablo would just looooove me, wouldn't he? Patti sends Pablo on his way, and Rebadow stands there silently for a minute, looking dazed. You can tell he's depressed because he doesn't have the neck string cocked at a jaunty angle anymore. Ahh, the perils of the office romance. One day you're reading Blake in your birthday suit, and the next you're getting yelled at for being insensitive to cancer patients and assaulted by wayward bibliophiles. But still, something tells me these two crazy kids will work things out in the end. It's just too bad the prison is doing Macbeth instead of Romeo & Juliet.