Kellerman says casually that LJ scared him, then adds, "Put it down, you're not a killer. You don't want to make any rash mistakes here." LJ wings Kellerman, and the agent goes down for a moment, but comes up again in the door. He appears to have been grazed in the ear.
Still cool, Kellerman orders, "Go easy," but LJ listens about as effectively as his old man does. Kellerman says, "LJ, I can help you beat this rap. But if you pull that trigger now, you really will be a killer, and then I can't help you, okay? I'm government. There are a lot of things I can do for you." Instead of snapping back, "Okay -- give me a tax refund like the vice president's," LJ decides he'd rather have Kellerman dead. Oh, LJ, we can't have that.
Fortunately, Chicago's finest agree, as they're all here to haul LJ away. Kellerman sits down. For all that he's stanching the flow of blood, Kellerman looks an awful lot like the cat who ate the canary.
Back inside the prison, Tweener's expression is the exact opposite of Kellerman's. He's carrying his stuff up to a new cell level, and protesting to Bellick that he did everything that was asked of him. Bellick tells him his information was worthless. He adds contemptuously, "You're a waste of my fries." Tweener's still pleading with Bellick even as he's being pushed into the cell. Behind him, Avocado unfolds. The door slams shut and Bellick says, "Have at it." We see Tweener sandwiched between the bars and a wall of hairy human flesh, and it's abundantly clear that the advice "Keep your back to the wall and your feet on the ground" is going to be physically impossible to follow.
Meanwhile, on the outside…the cop is telling Kellerman that "you're lucky -- the kid's got a double warrant for homicide." Kellerman says, "Oh, dear. Are you serious?" It's too bad Brinker can't see this bravura performance. Then she'd have an idea what she's up against. We then move into the part of the conversation where Kellerman -- posing as "Kravecki" here -- shares that he's a regional sales manager for a dehydrated meat company, and generously passes along bags of his product.
Inside, Michael has been shorn and clad in a white tunic. He's just in time for the 11:10 showing of the Despot Monologues: "Today, we celebrate the first glorious anniversary of the Information Purification Directives. We have created, for the first time in all history, a garden of pure ideology. Where each worker may bloom secure from the pests of contradictory and confusing truths. Our Unification of Thoughts is more powerful a weapon than any fleet or army on earth. We are one people, with one will, one resolve, one cause. Our enemies shall talk themselves to death and we will bury them with their own confusion. We shall prevail!" If Michael is lucky, they'll get his meds right and he'll see why 1984 won't be like 1984.