Wangler roots around in Poet's stuff until he finds some of his poems on a little notepad. Poet catches him, and Wangler rips one of the pages off and crumples it. Poet's reaction is somewhere in the range of "angry, but on heroin," which may be just what he was going for, but I think it's just because muMs sucks rocks as an actor. Anyway, the hacks break them up. They're led off, and Said looks concerned as Adebisi dances maliciously in the background. I'd lay good odds that whatever he's listening to has the subliminal message "Kill!" sprinkled liberally through it, with smatterings of "Rape!" as well. Maybe he's listening to GWAR.
McManus lectures Wangler that it's his third incident in as many weeks, and that he's sending him back to the kitchen. Tim, you said you'd send him to Gen Pop the next time he fucked up, so thanks for wussing out again when it really counts. Asshole. Wangler sits there petulantly, and I swear all I want to do is rip that ridiculous pantyhose cap off his head and burn it on a blazing fire. The smell probably wouldn't be too good, but it would so be worth it. McManus also tells him that he won't be allowed to attend graduation, which gets Wangler's attention, as he already invited his "girl" and his mother. Tough beans, dickhead. And stick that cap back in a L'Eggs egg where it belongs. Outside, Wangler and Poet stare each other down, their collective intimidation powers being roughly akin to those of Reichen and Chip (for those of you who don't watch The Amazing Race, that translates as "nonexistent"), and then Poet's in McManus's office. McManus exposits that Poet is indeed going to have his parole reviewed, and that he has to stay out of trouble, even if it means putting up with Wangler. How is it possible that I sympathize with both Poet and Wangler, and yet I can't stand either of them? Sometimes misanthropy can be very trying. (Yeah, I know, you don't care.) McManus goes on that Sister Pete told him Poet hasn't been going to drug counselling, but he'll let that slide too, because "You give this place a good name." You know, vomit isn't the easiest thing to clean off a laptop. Poet agrees to behave himself.
Cut to the hearing. The leader of the panel reads off Poet's number and name in a very meta way. He says that he's going to ask Poet a series of questions, after which they'll make a recommendation to the parole board. He asks if Poet has any questions. Poet shows good judgment by saying no, rather than "Do any of you all have any smack?" which is what he was undoubtedly thinking.