Cue the Fabulously Gay White Supremacists, who catch Michael trying to extract that bolt from the back of their bleachers. T-Bag drawls, "Ah thought we had an undahstahnding. This heah's for the fam'ly. You made it pretty clear you ain't blood. How 'bout you hand that ovah?" Michael mentally weighs whether he'd like another prison-yard beatdown courtesy of the Fabulously Gay White Supremacists, and decides against it. He hands over the screw. T-Bag drawls, "Naaaahce lookin' piece of steel. Bit o' work. You could do some serious damage with it. The question is, who was it you was plannin' on damaging?" Oh, T-Bag, get over it. This is the closest you'll get to a screw from Michael. But before T-Bag can work out his feeling in re: unrequited love on Michael's chest, a guard comes over and tells everyone to break it up. T-Bag passes the screw back to Adam behind him. Michael is staring. Which...seems to be the default action, but in this case, there's a definite slump to his shoulders.
While Michael's getting hassled by the Fabulously Gay White Supremacists, Bellick is tossing Michael's cell. He does note the pad of paper upon which Michael wrote his tattoo notes. So he does a little rubbing with his pencil and sees the inscription "SCHWEITZER ALLEN 11121147."
Commercials. Eugene Levy, if you needed the money, all you had to do was say something. But Samuel L. Jackson, you have no excuse.
When we return, Michael is still out in the yard and still staring. This time, however, he's shifted his attention to Abruzzi, who is standing outside the "Yard Department" and overseeing some work. Michael visibly psychs himself up, and walks over to ask Abruzzi, "What's it take to shake down another inmate, get something he's taken from you?" Abruzzi replies, "It would take Fibonacci." Michael's all, "Yeeeeeah -- no. You get Fibonacci once we're standing outside these walls." His sales pitch fails to impress. After Abruzzi walks off, Michael's got an expression like, "I'm 0-for-2 today. Can this day get any worse?"
And then Abruzzi's day gets worse: he has a visitor named Philly Falzone, accompanied by Gavin. The two of them lay it out for Abruzzi: if someone knows where Fibonacci is, and that someone is not Abruzzi, then there is the possibility that Fibonacci will testify at a Congressional hearing next month, thus putting them in jail. So if Abruzzi would like to see his kids alive and well, it behooves him to find out where Fibonacci is, and fast. After the visit, Abruzzi is visibly nervous. Oh, this is going to roll downhill.