Back from the break, Michael is finishing up his oral hygiene regimen when he decides he should just be straight-up with Haywire: "I don't think we're gonna work out. And since I was here first, I think you should go." Haywire's response? "I crapped myself once in junior high." Heh. That's totally the new "My cat's breath smells like cat food." At this moment, Michael realizes there's no point reasoning with the crazy, so he turns his back and starts in on another plan. Haywire's nostalgia trip continues, however, and while he tells the sordid tale of P.E. class and badminton and pretending he had a tail (ew), Michael busies himself by emptying his toothpaste into the toilet and pocketing the empty tube. His story finished, Haywire turns his attention to Michael: "I just told you a secret. Now it's your turn." Michael asks if Haywire wants to know what the tattoos mean. Haywire would. Michael: "Nothing." Okay, that's what we call poking the crazy, Michael. Before Haywire can snap and choke him to death, Michael is called to the front of his cell by a passing Abruzzi, who would like to know if there's been progress on either Haywire or the digging. There has not, but Michael says he knows what to do. Abruzzi snarls, "Problem is, you don't got the stugots to do it." And I'm sorry, but much as I love Peter Stormare, he is so not a mobster, and hearing him try to sound authentic with "stugots" just underlines that point. Oh, and if I told you that Michael's response to this slight was to stare intently at Abruzzi and then gaze meaningfully into the middle distance, you wouldn't believe me, would you? Yet he does!
Driving hip-hop music heralds a scene which is not, interestingly enough, taking place in a dangerous part of town, but rather at the Pet Peeve Pay Phones. We see a reversal of fortune, as this time it's Sucre who needs the phone and Not Wash who's currently using it. Not Wash is asking something about "Aunt Ruth," which made me giggle a bit. See? They're not using the phones for evil! They're asking about Aunt Ruth! Sucre could give a damn about Aunt Ruth; he needs to call his faithless girlfriend. Not Wash looks for a minute like he wants to start beef, but quickly backs down. Sucre dials up Maricruz on her cell phone (see?), and immediately starts with the questions. "What's going on? What's the deal with you and Hector?" Ah, but Maricruz has a question of her own: "Why didn't you tell me that Rita Saldania's been visiting you?" Apparently Hector told her. Sucre goes off on how Hector is a snake and a liar, although he never specifically refutes the Rita Saldania charge, which may or may not be significant. Oh, and not only is Sucre's left eyebrow working overtime in this scene, but Amaury Nolasco is rocking some unholy combination of the Robert DeNiro "You talkin' to me?" nose scrunch and the Al Pacino "Say hello to my little friend!" underbite. It's really quite distracting. His whole face is pinched and not nearly as menacing as he thinks it is. Which, actually, is Sucre in a nutshell: pinched and not at all menacing. Maricruz doesn't know what to believe, although Sucre would rather his "Mami" believe him. Maricruz says she saw her friend Teresa's baby the other day, and since she's "gonna be thirty in a few years," she's been having thoughts. Basically, to paraphrase, her biological clock is tickin' like this, and the way Sucre's sentence is going, she ain't never getting married. Sucre reminds her that she's not almost thirty, she's twenty-five (I keep telling myself this), and if she wants to get pregnant, they can get pregnant "right now." Well, a) you can't get pregnant over the phone, because it doesn't work that way, and b) they took your conjugals away, so unless you're planning on smuggling out a vial of your fastest swimmers, "right now" isn't exactly an option. Maricruz reminds him that she's a good Catholic girl and can't get pregnant before she's married. Because then Jesus would know. Sucre reminds her that it's just sixteen more months before they can get married, but Maricruz counters that Hector told her if something happens in prison, Sucre would have to serve his full sentence. "I can't wait ten years." As Hector approaches behind her, she reiterates how she can't wait that long. She hangs up, and suddenly Sucre looks like he can't wait much longer, either.