All language subtitles for [SubtitleTools.com] Tulsa.King.S01E02.Proper.WEBRip.x264-N10.Hi

♪ MTV ♪

CHICKIE: Dwight "The
General" Manfredi.

Tulsa, I want you to go there.

Are you serious?

After everything I've
done for this family.

You don't understand
how this fucking works.

I don't understand?

But I'm gonna overlook
this for old time's sake.

You'll kick up five
grand a week to start.

Name's Tyson.
Welcome to Tulsa.

Where to?

DWIGHT: This is how
it's gonna work...

You make the money and
I make sure you keep it.

- Do I have a choice?
- Absolutely not.

You drive for me now.

My gangsta, ha-ha!

[women chattering]

- I'm Mitch, by the way.
- Dwight.

We're gonna invite
you to the party.

I wouldn't really
call that a party.

What do you call a party?

[cheering]

- I had a good time.
- Maybe I'll see you around.

A high-ranking Mafia
capo who has decided

to grace Tulsa
with his presence.

Oh, fuck me.

[electricity buzzing]

[sighs]

MAN: There you are.

- How you doing?
- Good.

I need to send this
to New York overnight.

And any perishables,
lithium batteries,

flammable liquids or firearms?

In the box? Nah.

Looks like it'll be $28.32.

- Visa or Mastercard?
- Cash.

- Oh.
- Oh?

Yeah, we don't
accept cash anymore.

You know, not for nothing,

and I know you don't
make the rules...

What the fuck is going
on with the world, huh?

Cash is king. You ever
hear that expression?

- No, I'm sorry.
- It's a great expression.

Excuse me, sir, I
forgot my credit cards

back at the hotel,
and I was wondering,

if I give you cash, could
you put it on your card?

Sure.

You're a freaking hero.

[theme music]

WOMAN: Dwight?
Double espresso?

Young lady, do you have
a glass coffee cup?

Super cool you're green, but
we don't use glass anymore.

So, no real cups no more?

Sorry.

GIBSON: Dwight David Manfredi.

Born Brooklyn, New
York, July 1947.

Long-time member of Cosa nostra,

first-generation American,

dad was a barber,
mom, a homemaker.

- Any kids?
- Daughter Cristina, early 30s.

- Nothing on the ex-wife.
- Okay.

Can I ask what
you need this for?

We got a tip that he's in town,
so, you know, following up.

- Honey, please.
- What?

How long do we know each other?

He bought me a drink.
Nothing happened.

- He bought you a drink?
- Yeah.

I got a rap sheet in front of me
goes back to before the Beatles,

including two murders.

I just said nothing
happened, okay?

Who'd he kill?

First, a guy named Richard
McLeevy, aka Ripple.

Second, a self-defense
in prison.

- Huh.
- What?

They tried to flip him
six different times.

Did a 25-year stretch
rather than talk.

Well, you gotta
admire that, right?

Do you? He's a
fucking gangster.

I'm just saying, at least
he's got some integrity.

Nothing sexier than
a cold-blooded killer

with principles.

I'll see you next
time I'm in town.

Thank you. [phone beeps]

VOICE: Wait.

Wait.

Wait.

Been waiting my whole life.

Wait.

Wait.

[boy laughing] WOMAN:
Can you believe that?

[train whistle blowing]

WOMAN: Center of the universe!

Is that what this is?

Not really, it's just
what they call it.

- Oh.
- You stand in that circle,

and nobody outside
it can hear a sound.

- No shit?
- Try it.

What do I say?

It won't matter, I won't
be able to hear you anyway.

All right.

[echoing] Horse.

[echoing] Hey,
did you hear that?

Did you hear that?

I told you, nobody
can hear anything.

People talk to God in there.

Hold up.

Here you go.

What's that?

Get yourself
something good to eat.

I don't want any of
your scuzzy money.

So, how goes the battle?

Good days, bad days.

How's the drinking?

Really good. I think
I am nailing that.

Edward?

- You guys talking?
- Not much.

He's... he's dating a lady.

How 'bout you?

Been over a year.
You're entitled.

I wouldn't say that
I'm dating anyone.

Slept with someone?

Yep. I did.

- What was he like?
- Old.

- How old?
- Really fucking old.

Like, he's 75.

And he's also a criminal.

Are you planning on
seeing him again?

No. I'm not.

Okay. Good.

There he is. How you feeling?

Fucking mandible's
broke in three places.

- Sorry, bro.
- That's it?

That's all you gotta say?

What do you mean?

I'm a made fucking guy,
that's what I mean!

A fucking capo!

What do you want me to do?

- Fucking bullshit, Chickie!
- Hey.

- This cock...
- Calm the fuck down.

You're gonna get hurt.

This fucking cocksucker
raised his hands.

So, what do you wanna do?

- You wanna kill the guy?
- Yeah.

The fuck you think?

My dad's friend,
Vince. You know that.

And he's a capo too.

Do we got rules in
this family or not?

Of course we do.

All right. I'll
talk to my father.

Thank you.

You getting in?

You would think for
two grand a week,

you'd get out and open the door.

Seriously? You want
me to do that shit?

No.

But it would have been
nice if you offered.

So, where to, boss?

I need a credit card.

Like a legal one, or a fugazi?

- No, legal.
- Well, you need to fill out

an application and shit,
and show some income.

Well, can't really
do that, can I?

Well, you can get a debit
card, it's just as good.

- How's that work?
- You go to the bank

and you, uh... fill
out some paperwork,

and deposit some cash,
and they give you a card.

Well, there's the
answer to your question.

- To what question?
- "Where to, boss?"

Let's go see Bodhi so
I can get some cash.

[music]

[coughing] Oh, shit's fire.

Ooh, that Grape Milkshake slaps.

And buzzkill.

The fact that it's
barely 11:00 a.m.

and you got a buzz to kill

makes me question
your work ethic.

I'm selling weed, not
operating a nuclear reactor.

- Morning, Fred.
- Morning.

Second of all, call
me buzzkill again,

I will rearrange your kidneys.

- Yeah.
- I need some money.

Uh-huh.

Morning, Spooky.

That's some real cornball
stuff right there, man.

- What?
- The dreads.

There's a lot of
cultural appropriation

going on in here.

So, at the risk of you
rearranging my internal organs

or some other creative
way of inflicting pain,

is there some sort of structure
to you taking my money?

It's 20% a week.

I'm sorry, what do
I get out of this?

'Cause I'm still missing that.

It's what you're not
getting, which is hosed.

Speaking of which, I need
to talk to your supplier.

- Jimmy?
- Yeah.

- Why?
- So I can cut a better deal.

And by the way, I got a line
on a new investment for us.

We'll be making
money hand over fist,

and the Feds won't
be able to touch it.

When will all of
this start happening?

You know, for a guy that's
stoned at 11:00 in the morning,

you're pretty
freaking impatient.

Okay, and current address?

Mayo Hotel.

Do you have a
permanent residence?

- Same place.
- And where's that located?

- You're on.
- West... West Fifth...

115 West Fifth.

Okay, I'll just
need to see some ID.

New York. I've
been there once.

Times Square.

Do you happen to
have a passport?

I haven't been doing a
lot of traveling lately.

Is there a problem?

I can't accept
this. It's expired.

Look, I don't wanna
borrow your car.

You asked for ID.

I know, it's just,
it expired in 1998.

This is why people
break the law,

because they make
everything legitimate

so freaking complicated.

It ain't all that complicated,

we just get you a new license.

You're such a good citizen.

- Can I ask you a question?
- Sure.

Why'd you go to jail?

I didn't go to jail,
I went to prison.

Jail's like a five-star
resort they put you in

before they send you to prison.

So, what'd you do?

I tore the tongue
out of this guy

who kept asking so
many stupid questions.

It's a bit excessive,
don't you think?

I'm impressed.

MANNY: Red Sox are even
6, Yanks are 6 to 7.

MAN: How 'bout the Braves?
- 9-11.

- Put two on the Braves.
- You got it.

I'll be back
tomorrow when I win.

Yeah, I'll be
waiting right here.

Manny? Got a call.

Oh, thanks, Roxy.

This is Manny.
EDDIE: [laughing]

Manny's the name
for a Jew tailor.

What do you got for me, Eddie?

You're right. It's him.

- It's Ike.
- Fuck me.

I knew it. [banging wall]

- What's he doing here?
- That, I don't know.

Oh, who am I kidding? He's
here to fucking kill me.

Maybe he's on vacation.

Yeah, yeah, and the Bahamas
were probably booked.

Where's he staying?

How many nice hotels
you got down there?

I don't know, one?

Then maybe look there, stunad.

Fuck you. And thanks.

MAN: Face front, please.

[camera beeps, clicks]

Sir, what are you doing?

Next in line.

Good afternoon.

You're gonna need
to take a road test.

I've been driving
since I was 13.

Those are the rules.

Next appointment is in...

in five weeks.

[typing] Well,
this is strange.

Looks like there's an
opening early next week.

Mm. [printer whirring]

That's a learner's permit.
You can use that to practice.

Is this good for ID?

It's just like a
regular license.

[chuckles]

And we're all set.
I put a rush on it.

You should receive
your new debit card

within 24 to 48 hours.

And if you need an
extra card for your...

- Colleague.
- Colleague.

One can never assume these days.

Assume all you want.
I work for him.

- That's true.
- Well, thank you

for choosing the Bank of Tulsa.

Ow.

Did he think we was...

[phone ringing] I think so.

Yeah?

How you doing, Chickie?

- How's Tulsa treating you?
- Are you kidding me?

It's like the Paris
of the Southwest.

There you go, that's the spirit.

So, how's your old man?

He's good, he's
here with me now.

- Chickie, send him my love.
- Yeah, of course.

So listen, I gotta talk to you.

That thing with Vince.

- What thing?
- Seriously?

You're gonna play
Mickey the Dunce?

Let me tell you
something, Chickie.

If there was ever a guy
that had a crack in the jaw

coming to him, it was that kid.

Dwight, he's a made guy.

You made a beef.

What's he want, a duel?

Come on, we're rational people.

That kinda shit
don't solve anything.

But you gotta make amends.

All right, I'll get
him a Get Well card.

Dwight, I'm serious.
He's fucking pissed.

You gotta make this right.

And how do you
suggest I do that?

100 grand would do it.

- Are you kidding me?
- Dwight, it's a tax.

His jaw's wired shut,
he can barely talk.

Then you ought to be paying me.

You embarrassed
him. He's in pain.

Dwight, you gotta
make this go away.

- And 100 grand will do that?
- Yes.

All right, I'll
send him something.

But if you hear it
ticking, don't open it.

[knocking]

[knocking] STACY: Hello?

Okay, okay, okay.

- Who is it?
- It's Stacy Beale.

- Who?
- We met a few nights ago.

No.

- Hey.
- Hi.

- How you doing?
- Do people call you Dwight?

Is that what I should call you?

Sure. Do you wanna come in?

Sure.

Really good seeing you.

- I just wanted to talk to you.
- Sure.

I'm an ATF agent.

I should have told
you the other night,

but it didn't come up.

You know, when high-level
felons relocate,

the FBI sends out a bulletin.

Your picture came
through my office.

- I'm an ex-felon.
- Great.

What's an ex-felon,
former Mafia capo

doing in Tulsa?

Maybe if you're here in
your official capacity,

maybe it's none
of your business.

What does your family
think about you being here?

I'm an ex-felon, how many
times do I have to say it?

No, not your mob family.

Your real family.
Your daughter.

I haven't seen my
daughter Tina...

That's her name, but I'm
sure you already know that.

I haven't seen her or
the rest of my relatives

in 18 years.

It was hard for her to
see me all locked up.

She was only a kid, so I
said, don't come back no more.

Save her the pain.

So basically, there's nothing
left for me in New York.

So, you just decided
to move to Tulsa?

Why not?

Listen, I need you to know
that if you get jammed up here,

there's nothing I can
do to help you out.

I don't expect you to.

We done, Stacy Beale?

[door opens and closes]

You know, John Lewis
didn't get his head broke

on the Edmund Pettus Bridge

so you could spit-shine
some gangster's Lincoln.

Oh, you right about that.

He did it so you can unplug
them white folks' toilets.

- Hey.
- [chuckles]

You better be smiling.

When I was your age,
I had mouths to feed.

I know, Dad, I'm just...
I'm just kidding.

You should be in college.

Come on, Dad, we gonna do this
this early in the morning?

Dude a businessman, you know,
I can learn a lot from him.

[dog barking]

[fly buzzing]

Larry!

What the hell, man?

Your dog crapped on my lawn.

How do you know it was my dog?

Because I just saw him.

Good for the grass. Fertilizer.

Well, let him fertilize
your grass, huh?

That's it?

[music]

So, what's this
guy's name again?

Jimmy. Creek Indian.

Jimmy the Creek? That's rich.

Wait till you meet
his cousin Bad Face.

Speaking of members
of the Tribe,

I read the name on
your grower's license.

Lawrence Geigerman?

That's your name?

Are we on some
anti-Semitic tip now?

No, come on, I love the
Jews. I love Jewish food.

So, what's with this Buddhist
Bodhi bullshit nickname?

Come on, you never had a
handle in your line of work?

Mm.

What did they used to call you?

I was named after General
Dwight Eisenhower,

so they called me Cinque Stelle.

Five Star.

[music]

Bodhi, where the hell are we?

Sorry for the inconvenience,

but no one puts a 100-acre grow

and a shatter lab on
the side of U.S. 85.

Smells good.

How you doing? I'm Dwight.

This is Jimmy's
cousin, Bad Face.

This a staring contest?

You got a last name, wasicu?

What's that mean?

Literal translation is a
greedy non-Indian person

who steals the fat.

That's a first.

You got a last name?

You got a problem?

I got serious
problems, motherfucker.

Okay, so we got off to
a really bad start here,

but I think we can
turn this around.

You ever been on a horse?

You ever been on life support?

JIMMY: Whoa, whoa,
whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!

Hey, take it easy,
guys, come on!

- Hey, Jimmy.
- Easy, easy now.

[sighs]

Nothing a little bit of
the fine Chiba won't fix.

DWIGHT: You don't even
need a sauna suit.

Maybe I went to hell and
I don't even know it.

Help yourself.

I negotiate with a clear head.

I'll stick with this.

There'll be no negotiating.

[sighs] It's $1,200
a unit for the buds

based on a 10-unit order.

Let's go. There's
other weed farms.

And... I'll throw in a case
each of CBD Doggie Droppers

and Rapture Patch
personal lubricant.

Lubricant?

You gotta do better
on the price, Jimmy.

But for the glut, you're
gonna be paying over a deuce.

You won't do better than
$1,200 unless you're into DEPs.

Light-deprived, forced ripe.

So, how many units you want?

I'll ask the questions,
if you don't mind.

This is delicious, by the way.

So, is your operation
vertically integrated?

You're a cultivator.

You got DEPs, BHO,
CRC, blast concentrate.

I know a trans-shipment
station when I see one.

So, what do you got here?

500 acres? Maybe more?

Probably see this place
from the fucking moon.

It's big.

Big enough that you wanna
sell me bruised fruit

from your bumper crop, and
I'm supposed to be touched

by your generosity?

I'll take 300 units.

$1,200 for the first 10
units, $1,100 for the next 10,

$1,000 for the 10 after that,

and $750 each for the
remaining 270 units.

I'll have to do the math.

Well, do it fast because
the offer expires

when I swallow this cracker.

[crunching]

You drive a hard bargain.

- But fair.
- Deal.

When are we gonna
smoke the peace pipe?

- Do we need to?
- Yeah.

Me and Fuck Face got
off to a bad start.

[chuckles] Bad Face.

And I'm sorry about that.

You kidding? I could
use 10 like him.

Mm, and... I should
probably tell you...

that apricot preserve
you're eating?

Perfecto.

It's infused with THC.

How infused?

Heavily, man.

It's a weed farm.

I was wondering why I
was feeling so good.

[laughing]

Gee.

- Let me try one of these.
- Hey.

Damn.

[blues music playing on radio]

Hey, Dwight, you feeling it?

There's a possibility.

[chuckles]

Want some? No.

- Okay.
- Want some?

Here. Beep.

Are you just gonna
pull it away again?

No, of course not. Trust me.

- Yeah.
- Boop.

[laughing]

Okay.

I want you to get
a little nuts too.

You know, I feel
like Rip Van Winkle.

You wake up after 25 years,

GM has gone electric,
Dylan's gone public,

a phone is a camera.

Coffee, five bucks a cup!

And the Stones,
bless their heart,

- they're still on tour.
- Word?

[blues music playing]
Now that, that's music.

Turn it up. Turn it up.

[volume increasing]

- Turn it up, Bodhi.
- I understand,

but I don't have
control over that.

- Turning your brain up.
- That won't do it.

Let me ask you guys something.

Seriously, I mean, seriously...

what's going on
with this country

in general nowadays?

I mean, like, your generation,
seriously, come on.

And these pronouns,

what the fuck is
with the pronouns?

He, she, him, they, the,
boom, bang, ba, fa, foo.

You know what my
pronoun is? Guess.

- Uh...
- Time's up. "It."

As in, it can't take
this shit anymore.

I'm all for change,
I am. I really am.

But somebody keeps
moving the goalposts.

When I was a kid,
in my neighborhood,

at least I knew who I was.

Or I thought I did.

But truthfully,
nobody knows nothing.

You had any brothers in
your neighborhood, OG?

I'm not done.

Did you ever hear of Arthur
Miller, the playwright?

Of course, you haven't,
what am I doing?

Arthur Miller wrote a
play about my neighborhood

called "View From the Bridge."

Not Henry Miller.

Henry Miller wrote
"Tropic of Cancer."

Which was okay, not bad.

But Arthur Miller,
who banged, whacked,

tick-tapped, double-whap-packed
Marilyn Monroe,

and married her, and won
the freaking Pulitzer Prize.

But in my opinion,
him getting to bang

and sleep nightly
with Marilyn Monroe

is by far his greatest triumph.

Wow, this stuff is potent.

[laughing]

[laughing, coughing]

[blues music continues playing]

[dog barking]

[dog continues barking]

[line ringing]

MAN: Mayo Hotel.
- Yeah, hi.

I'm looking for a friend,

I believe he's
staying at your hotel.

Name of the guest, please?

Manfredi.

Okay, just one sec. [typing]

I'm sorry, sir, there's no
one here under that name.

How 'bout an Ike?
You got an Ike?

- Is that a first name?
- Dwight.

Oh, Mr. Manse.

From New York, right?

Yeah, that... that's
right. That's him.

Okay, hold on.
I'll connect you.

No, no, you know what?
Somebody just walked in.

I'm gonna have to
call you back, okay?

Sounds good. Thank you, sir.

Sure thing. Thanks.

[car approaching]

[car engine turning off]

MAN: Sir?

- This came for you.
- Oh, right.

[typing]

[phone beeping]

[line ringing]

MAN: Hello?

Hi, is Tina there?

Who's this?

- It's her father.
- What?

It's Dwight Manfredi,
it's her father.

Can I ask who this is?

I'm her husband,
Emory. Hold on.

[children laughing
in background]

Listen, I'm sorry, but she...
She doesn't want to talk to you.

Are those your kids?
Yours and Tina's?

Guys, be quiet.
I'm on the phone.

What's that?

Um, can you just tell her
I wanna hear her voice?

Hold on.

TINA: Hello.
- Tina.

- You wanted to hear my voice.
- Yeah.

There. You happy?

Can I see you?

[phone clicking]

[phone beeps]

VOICE: Wait. Wait.

[echoing] I stopped
seeing her...

because it was too hard on her.

[echoing continues] No.

I stopped seeing her...

because it was too hard on me.

I love you.

I quit on you.

And I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

- We made it.
- Got you some Barolo.

[deep voice] We're
on nitrous, dude!

Man down.

Where do you see
me in five years?

You realize I'm a
criminal, right?

I got a guru.

I'm not here to get you killed.

Down!

Am I being charged with
almost getting shot?

'Cause I don't think
that's a crime,

even in Oklahoma.

Somebody tried to kill me.

WOMAN: Who might want you dead?