Then, Michael strolls out to Becky and tells her, "Um, he's getting an earful from someone at the D.O.C." Becky looks over and sees a light, so she's satisfied with that explanation. Michael adds, "It's turning into a conference call, and he said he didn't want to be disturbed." Becky nods. As Michael turns to leave, she casually calls his name. Michael turns around, and Becky says, "You know, he can be a big ol' grump sometimes, but I hope you know how highly he thinks of you. There was no way he could get that Taj Mabadiea done in time for his anniversary without your help." Michael tries not to look too remorseful and guilt-wracked.
Down in his spiderhole, Bellick is still grunting and writhing and rubbing things, and honestly, Prison Break, I didn't think you were that kind of show. ["...you didn't?" -- Wing Chun]
Michael heads back into his cell. Sucre is a big ball of nerves, obviously staying silent only because some survival mechanism has clamped his jaw shut lest he scream out, "GOSH. EVERYONE, I SURE HOPE OUR ESCAPE WORKS THIS TIME!" Michael notes that it's one hour to the next count, and betrays his own nervousness by rubbing his hands together as he says, "One hour to get over that wall and as far away from this prison as possible." Sucre resumes rocking back and forth, and Michael settles for trying not fidget.
And now, such a sad scene with Westmoreland. He's sweating profusely and looking a little ashy, and he's shaking in pain. Before he changes the dressing on his wound, he bites down on what seems to be a leather billfold of some sort, and then pulls the blood-soaked rags from the gash. Oh, it's awful-looking. It's like Sid And Nancy awful, like that scene when she stumbles out of bed and into the bathroom and there's all this bright red blood smeared everywhere, and you can tell Nancy's on the verge of dying because instead of shrieking "Siiiiiiiid!!!" at the top of her lungs, she can manage only one adenoidal, bleated "Siiid..." before collapsing. Who'd have thought the old man would have so much blood in him?
We see all the other cons waiting. T-Bag and Abruzzi are making eyes at each other through their bars, Tweener's trying desperately to get his jumpsuit white and bright enough for the caper, and C-Note is noticing that Trumpets has just threatened to kill him. As if C-Note needed more incentive to escape.
Michael asks Sucre, "You unscrewed the toilet, right?" Sucre makes the universal uh-oh face, and Michael snaps, "That's five minutes we don't have!" Sucre goes into a fit of apologizing. These two are so married -- that exchange takes place in households all over America every day, with everything from "You locked the door, right?" to "You sent my mother a birthday card, right?" Except that for most married people, the exchange doesn't end with one spouse vomiting into the toilet the other one's trying to unscrew. Michael is like, "Couldn't you have done that when you were busy not-unscrewing the toilet?" To his credit, he asks Sucre if he's okay, and Sucre emotionally says, "If we get caught...I can't do ten more years, bro. I can't."