Prison! It's depressing, but at least it looks clean. Papa Clark is walking down some stairs and gingerly steps out of the way of a scary-looking convict in his way. He asks Nebbishy Ned how he might be able to make a phone call. Ned says they are permitted a phone call once a week, unless they know how to work the system, which he says he does. Papa Clark asks for help with, you know, working the system. Ned asks what he'll get in return. Papa Clark promises to get him out of prison. Ned is dubious: the real Papa Luthor couldn't even do that. Ned says that Papa Clark has no money or power. "I have a lot more power than you think," Papa Clark whispers.
Some scary convict who looks like Rob Zombie in about another fifteen years comes in with his crew of wife-beater clad prison homies. "It's time to play Who Wants to Beat a Millionaire!" the scary dude calls out grandly. This is awesome. Ned hides. All the prisoners gather together for something that will either be very dirty or very violent. Dudes are cocking their heads, rubbing their beards, circling. The guards take off, allowing the situation to handle itself. Old Rob Zombie asks if Papa Clark has his "five large." Is that like a handjob from a basketball player? Papa Clark says he doesn't know what he's talking about, and Zombie -- one of whose eyes is all cloudy blue -- says that the senile act won't work. Zombie calls him "Trump." I wonder if he accepts the Trump Card. Papa Clark insists that he has no money. Seriously! Check his anus! There's nothing there but old memories! Zombie swings a punch at Papa Clark. Clark dodges and tries to throw a punch of his own. Old Rob Zombie catches it in his fist and squeezes. Ouuuuchie! Papa Clark winces and falls to his knees. I really think that a requirement for writing a script for this show is figuring out an elaborate way that Clark can find himself in a situation where he'll get his ass kicked. "Don't play me, Trump," advises Old Zombie. "I'm doing three life terms for murder. What's one more?" He slugs Papa Clark across the mouth. Then he kicks him in the stomach. Papa Clark has until tomorrow to come up with the money. Papa Clark rolls over, head bloody, sad. Prison stops being fun really fast.