The camera switches from T-Bag's contemplative face to the stylized devil on the wall, because this show is so subtle like that. Sucre says, "I was raised to believe the devil's got some crazy power, but I don't think shining him on this wall is going to bring it down. Not unless he's got a sledgehammer with him." Michael wipes his face with his arm, thereby hiding any Good God, why must I explain EVERYTHING exasperation. He tosses Sucre his homemade drill -- the eggbeater and the bit he was working on earlier.
Things are not looking good for Dr. Tancredi. The security guard is currently handcuffed to a pipe, and Tall, Dark & Ugly is holding a broken bottle to his throat: this provides sufficient motivation for the CO to lie and say everything in sick bay is peachy.
Back in the tunnels, Michael's looking up toward the ceiling and listening to the noise; he's wearing his "maybe this wasn't such a good idea" expression. Sucre bitches some more about the alleged insurmountable nature of the task ahead, and Michael snaps out of his second-guessing and returns to the safe world of engineering. He explains, "We just need a few small holes… You ever hear of tensile strength? Hooke's Law of Elasticity? … We drill holes in strategic locations, we compromise the load-bearing capacity of the wall…we'll be able to break through the part of the wall that covers the pipe opening…we go in through the tip of the horn, the eyes, the end of the nose, the bottom of the fangs, the end of the braids. It makes a kind of 'X.' Let's get to it." Sucre's all, "Why for you talk in first-person plural?"
Ah, the riot police have finally showed up. What, were they detained on the set of Blues Brothers 2006? Outside, Bellick's nipping at Pope's heels, offering helpful strategies for dealing with the mess. I have a suggestion too: don't goad a boatload of pissed-off prisoners unless you're sure you can take it, Bellick. Pope's day immediately gets worse when Governor Tancredi rings in to inquire as to the general safety of his daughter. Pope assures the governor that Dr. Tancredi's fine, as she's in B-wing and that's locked off from the rest of the facility. I like how Bellick hasn't bothered to tell anyone that his team left behind a set of keys; nothing says "professionalism" like covering your own ass at the expense of your colleagues' lives.
Meanwhile, the sick bay inmates have effected a miraculous recovery: all of them are well enough to bash on the windows of the doctorquarium. Damn ungrateful patients. Tall, Dark and Ugly screams, "I'm gonna dance with you, Doc!" Dance? Well, why didn't you say so? Dr. Tancredi comes out, you two do a quick foxtrot, everything's cool. Oh, wait. You meant something else, didn't you?