Ryan is in confession with Mukada. Ryan tells him a story about a prisoner pathetically begging him for a cigarette, and him turning the guy down. Mukada asks why, and Ryan tells him he did it to help the guy kick the habit. Mukada's confused as to why Ryan came to confession, as that isn't a sin. Ryan half-turns to look at Mukada: "The truth? I figured when I was done I could sneak a smoke." Mukada thinks, "I really, really shouldn't find that sexy, should I?"
Hill, continuing this week's series of Harlequin Crackhead Monologues, blathers about confessionals. I'll confess something for free: Hill really needs to shut up this week. ["'This week.' Interesting." -- Sars]
Library. Beecher is reading when Ryan enters and feys over to join him. Ryan does his patented little chat-up-some-patsy-who-can-do-him-a-favor routine, and asks if Beecher's a lawyer. Beecher says he was disbarred right after he was convicted, and I'll spare you the obligatory lawyers/criminals joke. Ryan asks why he didn't appeal, and Beecher says he did, but they chose to make an example of him. I daresay they're doing a fine job of it, too. Ryan says his attorney totally rolled over in court, and asks Beecher to review his case and see if there's any possibility for appeal. After a little hesitation, Beecher agrees. The two men introduce themselves, and one of the friendships that I really like is born. There's no sex, no gangs, and no master/prag dynamic. Sure, there's a little heroin, but you can't keep it completely clean. This is HBO, after all.
Religious service. We focus in on Beecher praying as Hill, finally having put down the crack pipe, talks about salvation. Beecher returns to his pod to find a towel-clad Schillinger. Schillinger asks "sweet pea" how church was, and tells him to get dressed, as they're taking a shower. Beecher says he already had one. Schillinger smiles: "Oh, that's okay. When I'm done with you, you'll need another one." He winks, and Beecher sighs and takes off his shirt. Geez, Beecher -- you may not have any choice about getting fucked in the ass, but you don't have to willingly set Schillinger up for these bon mots! Of course, they're hilarious, so if you want to throw your conceptual dignity to the same fate as your corporeal one, I'll laugh along with everyone else.
In the kitchen, Sister Pete complains to Beecher that her assistant got paroled. Beecher thanks her for thinking of him. Pete: "When I heard you knew Word and Lotus, I knelt down and praised Jesus." Hey, I know Word and Lotus! I'm not really interested in Sister Pete kneeling down, though. Do you think Ryan would be as impressed? Beecher says he's glad the Lord heard her, as He hasn't been listening to him lately. Pete assures him that God is listening, but His answers might not come in the form he expects. I find it hard to believe that any reasonable interpretation of Beecher's prayers could result in his ass cheeks being spread to different sides of the equator, but I am just a lowly recapper. They've reached Pete's office, and she shows him where he'll be sitting. Beecher gives a speech about how he was a lot of good things on the outside, but as a result of one, albeit huge, mistake, God took everything from him. I see his argument and arguments against him here, but both sides are pretty obvious. Pete suggests that God took away superficial things so he could find his true self through Him. Beecher says that God isn't in Oz, and that Genevieve is divorcing him, the straw that broke the camel's back being the swastika on his ass. In this case, the straw weighed about a ton. "If God is in me, He's a tumor." Pete looks sad. While not religious myself, I respect people who are as long as they're sane, and I always feel bad for Pete and Mukada, because maintaining faith must be hard enough in a place like Oz, but dispensing it to people who have reason to believe that their lives are hopeless has the potential to be beyond bleak.