Clark and Lex make their way up the stairs to the barn loft. Oh, just start knocking hay bales already, you two. Clark asks about the voicemail on Chloe's phone that would incriminate Papa Luthor. Lex says it will be for the Grand Jury. Lex says that in order to deny bail, they need eyewitnesses. Oh, that's such bullshit. You mean every murder that wasn't seen by another party automatically means the person gets to go home with no bail set? Way to Bizarro World the criminal justice system, Smallville. Lex says that anyone who's seen Papa Luthor's darker moments is dead or unwilling to come forward. What about Bo Duke? He's not long for this world anyway. "I'll come forward," Clark says. "Then you'll undo my belt buckle. We'll make the rest up as we go along." Lex smirks a bit, but says they need an "eyewitness." Clark reveals that he saw Papa Luthor at Belle Reve, giving the go-ahead to give Lex electroshock treatment even when he knew it might harm his son. Lex asks how Clark saw that. Clark says he snuck in to try to save Lex, but was too late. Lex steps forward, and for once it looks like he wants to smack Clark instead of kiss him. He surmises that Clark knew that Papa Luthor killed his parents, too, but said nothing. Lex interrupts Clark's answer to say he thought there was a "tacit agreement" among friends to share that kind of info. Does "tacit" mean "benefits"? "Not when it can get your friend killed!" Clark whines. Clark says that Papa Luthor locked Lex away and fried his brain. (Clark's words, not mine.) He says that Papa Luthor might have killed Lex this time, and Clark couldn't live with that. The pleading, puppy-dog look in Clark's declaration makes it a shoo-in for the Gayest Look of the Episode. Lex considers it. Clark does more of the puppy dog. Pad, pad, pad. Lex steps forward. "You're a good friend, Clark," he says. Unfortunately, he's also a lousy lay. Lex says that if Clark tells the judge what he just told him, Papa Luthor will be trading in his Armani for an orange jumpsuit. I dunno, Lex. I saw some Armani in France and they put some crazy shit on the racks. I wouldn't be surprised if there's already an orange Armani jumpsuit. "I'll be there. You can count on it," Clark says. Oh yes. The Gay.

A buzzer sounds. A guard opens a metal door and it leads to the most elaborate TV prison I've ever seen. At least on The WB. Papa Luthor is in a huge, white cell that has partitions separated by chain-link fencing. It's brightly lit and not exactly menacing, as far as punishments go. Papa Luthor, indeed in an orange jumpsuit and shackles, is led in by guards and our old buddy Craggy Chris Isaak. Isn't it a bad idea for him to be seen with the guy against whom he's got a pending case? Papa Luthor says he thought they had a deal. Craggy Chris Isaak begins a short, fast monologue that makes it sound as if he just had a root canal for all its slurry doesn't-make-sense-edness: "I tipped you off on your son's wire. I made sure any discriminating [ha! He said "discriminating" instead of "incriminating"!] recordings disappeared into the ether. I can't control some bleach-blonde Pulitzer wannabe from dredging up evidence from a decades-old homicide." Er, Craggy Chris Isaak? You need to lay off the bottle. Seriously. I'm worried about you, man. Let's get you into a program. Papa Luthor disregards the shambling dialogue and asks about "Lex's friend." Craggy scoffs that Papa Luthor is a hop, skip, and a jump from Death Row. He says that no "hick farm kid's secret is gonna be able to save your ass!" Papa Luthor chuckles as he's wont to do, and says he'll be free on bail in a few hours. Papa Luthor expects the info Craggy has gathered to be shipped over. Craggy says Papa will be waiting a long time. Craggy quits! This job is destroying his liver! Papa Luthor warns Craggy that he's venturing into dangerous waters. "I'm a pretty decent swimmer" is the oh-so-witty retort. "Night-night," Craggy adds on his way out, just to add to our nightmarish glimpse into alcoholism in the FBI.