You know, if they just got rid of all the chicken feet, prison violence would be all but eliminated. Then again, I guess ultimately, chicken feet don't kill people, people kill people.

-Lincoln at the morgue. And a cliche to follow.
-Is it her? Of course not . . . it never is. Moving on . . .
-Whoever the head guy is explains honor to Michael.
-Some guy is hiding in the ventilation . . .
-Superstar.
-Is that Lincoln? He apparently never learned to whistle. Nope, not Lincoln.
-Run an errand for me, and I'll give you more rat (I really hope that's rat).
-Oh, geez. L.J. Do we really need to see LJ?
-Fight to start soon . . .
-T-bag . . .
-Maholm dispensing fatherly wisdom to Michael. "Go to the kneecap"
-Don't throw away the plastic thingy, Belleck. That's currency here.
-I missed that. What did Belleck slip into Michael's pocket? And then the other guy's. I guess a note?
-Why do they all speak English here?
-Fight! Fight! Chicken foot! Fight!
-Oooh, the old fake-a-Ghandi trick! Kneecap!
-Only one man comes out alive. Go for the other kneecap, I guess . . .