In Leo's office, McManus reveals that Alvarez is up for parole again. Leo thinks he's got no chance, but McMuffin thinks Alvarez is a changed man. He's even going to write a letter on Alvarez's behalf. Miss Dog will as well. And, says McManus, Mukada would do the same thing. If he weren't away on the touring production of Evita. Oh, really, says Leo, because "six months ago the dink was in solitary smearing shit on his cell wall." McManus clearly doesn't want fact to intrude on fantasy, so he ignores Leo's well-made point and instead attributes Leo's party-pooping attitude to "bad blood." In another well-made point, Leo says, "Fuck you." Undeterred, McManus urges Leo to talk to Alvarez, "not warden to prisoner, but man to man." After vomiting all over his desk, Leo tells McManus to scram.
Alvarez thanks McManus for arranging the parole hearing as he cleans up his laundry. McManus explains that parole hearings aren't always easy, but Alvarez brushes off the advice and fantasizes about being free, since he knows he will be, hooking up with his lady (who's also apparently a criminal) and perhaps having a baby. Now that's a zany sitcom I'd like to see -- I Love Parole, about Alvarez and his woman trying to make it in today's crazy world. Get me Lea Thompson! I'm so glad to know for sure that soon Alvarez will be able to put his experience in Oz behind him and have a normal life.
There's a rave in Em City, as the COs speedwalk around, waving flashlights. More swervy, swoopy cameras; more edge, more pathos. Just more. In his cell, Alvarez practices answering basic questions like "Aren't you the third-generation Oz inmate in your family?"
Clap on -- the lights come up for morning line-up. Alvarez takes lots of ribbing for his boyish jacket and rep tie before Guerra and a go-go dancer sidle up and begin tormenting him, threatening his chica with an accident. Alvarez gets very serious and says he'll Really And Truly Kill Guerra if anything happens to the petite flower, but I'm not worried, because Alvarez will be out of prison in plenty of time to protect her from harm.
After Alvarez's opening remarks, the parole management firm of Blazer, Blazer & Pantsuit begins the real hearing. Alvarez kindly gives them permission to ask him whatever they want. Each board member tackles a different Alvarez incident in a manner meant to rankle (and rankle it does) -- the culmination being the probing question, "What the fuck makes you think we should set you free, you little prick?" Of course, "Why Yes, I Do Have Rage Management Issues" Alvarez lunges for the offending questioner, which triggers a Madonna-style retrospective of Alvarez in action. As Alvarez is led into solitary, bitching and moaning, McManus stands and glares, clearly disappointed, looking very stern. Then Kirk starts pleading. Then Cyril. Then Stanton. Then Penders. Then Martinez. McManus, overwhelmed by the outpouring of support, puts his hands to his ears, yells, "Calgon, take me away!" and walks out as the pleading swells to a roar.