Then we cut back to Sucre not-so-quietly freaking out. Linc tells him to be calm, and Sucre points out at the top of his lungs, "Calm? You just said I'm standing on top of a bomb!" Then he asks, more quietly, "You think Gretchen set us up?" That gives Linc an idea, and he races off.

Speaking of bombs, guess what T-Bag's doing as he prepares for his meeting? Gretchen rolls her eyes at the GATE talking points and asks if people actually buy this nonsense. Alas, we don't find out, because Linc picks that moment to come in and grab Gretchen for emergency bomb squad duties. T-Bag's left alone in his office, whispering, "GATE allows us to find the pathway ..."

"... to personal freedom!" he finishes exultantly in front of the new franchisees. Going by how they're all reacting, I'm guessing each of them is considering their back-up career plans. T-Bag realizes he's whiffing and begins riffing: "I'm going to tell you a better story about captivity than the regular spiel. Years back, I was providing volunteer leadership in a local penitentiary. I worked with the head guard, a big, burly bull named Brad. Mean as the devil -- all the prisoners were afraid of him, even the murderers. Then one day, Brad said to me, 'Cole, I want you to get out of here. I want you to get out of here right now, 'cause I can tell you're a man who loves freedom.' I said, 'Well, what about you, Brad?' He says, 'Oh, yeah, I'm going to be free, someday. When I retire.' I recently got the news that he had passed away. And where was he? Still in that prison. Still in the captivity of negativity! [chokes back a sob] [has a flashback to an inexplicably mirthful Bellick in his police get-up] Old Brad. As my pappy used to say, 'Stand by, your glasses steady, and drink to your comrades' eyes. Here's a toast to the dead already. And hurrah for the next to die.'" Well, insofar as eulogies go, it's not a bad one, if filled with tremendous lies. But I suppose that's better than "He fed me tobacco until I pooped, so I framed him for murder later."

We cut to Mahone pointing out that once you lay down with the One World Conspiracy, you have, metaphorically speaking, a case of the crabs that lingers for life. Baker's in denial that this will ever happen to him, and Mahone is all, "Unless you have led a blameless life with no human attachments whatsoever, the One World Conspiracy is coming for you, chump. Also, isn't your conscience bothered by their murder and mayhem?" Baker's answer to that last question: "No." But the eavesdropping Elaine seems to think otherwise. Mahone also shrewdly figures out that deep down inside, Baker wishes he had never taken the Scylla gig, and that's why he does all the do-gooder work. Baker's like, "This is all in the past, la la la la la," but the two black armored cars that have just pulled up and the disgorged mess of Conspiracy stooges would seem to argue otherwise.