[Axel's eyes the cellmate across the way from him, trying to sell his schtick to the guard and utterly failing. He recognizes the type. Businessman. Entrepreneur, good source of information. Information is what Axel needs.

He stands up to the bars closest to facing the guy and makes a show of chatting to his own guard. Predictably they ignore him too, are already walking away in fact, but Axel continues to talk, seemingly unbothered. He locks eyes with his fellow prisoner instead.]

"Not that this isn't flattering, but what's the play here? Seems like an awfully involved operation for just some fancy lawn ornaments."

[Care to share your thoughts, friend?]