All language subtitles for The-Wire-Season-3-Episode-02-All-Due-Respect

Cleaned, corrected & sync adjusted by Tronar.

Yeah, so we out on Carrollton,

this ol' white motherfucker
and his wife roll up,

he's like, "young man, you know
where the Poe House is?"

I'm like, "Unc, you kiddin' me?

Look around, take your pick."

So, the old man,

he's like, "the Poe House.

The Edward Allen Poe House..."

shit, you back already?

First of the month, yo...

I'm like, "I don't know no
Edward Allen Poe."

The man look at me all sad
and shit like I let him down...

I know you know
you ain't comin' in here.

What?

Shorty, I don't know you.

You know Miss Elaine
in the back room, right?

This her brother,
Earl from the V.A. Hospital.

He supposed to stay with her.

Can you help me inside?

I'm Chantal.

So, what's good?

Thank you, young man.

Oh shit.

Oh shit.

Nah, nah, nah...

Hey, yo, Omar.

Yo, all due respect,

but this right here,

this a Barksdale joint, man.

Do tell.

All Due Respect.

You think this boy
woke up yesterday morning,

sat on the edge of his bed

and said:
"Today's my day to die?"

You don't think
this can happen to you?

Doc, hold that up.

Look at what that bullet
did to his heart.

That's his heart.

What was that, scared straight?

More like bored stiff.

What's the deal with this?

I go down to M.C.I. Jessup hoping
to pull up a fella with some years on him,

see if he's ready
to share his feelings.

Turns out Barksdale D'Angelo
got himself rung up as a suicide.

D.O.D. of 72103.

Who worked it?

State police.

You want me to pull
the postmortem on this?

Yeah, he's kind of
our made guy down there.

I just want to make sure
that nobody did the suicide to him.

Ain't nuthin' but dust
an' bricks over there now.

Shit, all that battlin'
we did to take them towers.

You're tryin' to tell me we back
on the street with the rest of 'em.

Anyway, b, now that the towers is gone
everybody knows how it gotta go down.

I say we send our people
over there early.

Corner chiefs like:
"Yo, we here now,

"you know what I mean,
but we bringing something to the table."

Lay it out like
it's their lucky day.

No flexin', no threats.
Just be like, this a good thing.

But you know
we gonna need good corners,

that's what we're gonna need.
Close to downtown.

Get the workaday trade.

- Come out like Freemont.
- Fayette.

Yeah, like 40,
$50,000 a day, easy.

Yeah, I'm on it.

You know everyone
watchin' us on this, man.

They wanna see if we're gonna fuck this up
now that the towers are down.

You know what I'm sin'?
They measurin' us up.

They wanna see
if we're gonna be weak or real.

If a fool step to us, man,
we gonna do what we gotta do.

But it's them bodies
that got you in here.

If we can do this without the bodies,
we should.

You know what I mean?

Especially now
we light on muscle.

Speakin' of muscle, man,
you heard from that man I sent you?

Yeah, Cutty from the cut.
He rang, we took care of him.

Good, good.

How you fixed for the hearing?

It's all good, man.

Shit.

Levy got everything
straightened up tight for me, man.

I'll be home
before it get cold.

Towers came down.

So?

So, we're comin' in.

To my corners?

I don't think so.

Hold on now.
This is gonna be good for you too...

Yeah?

Now, how you figure that?

Yo, what you payin' now, 37, 38?

Yo, we can go 31, 32 shots.

Man, this shit's so John Blaze

you can step on it seven, eight times
and still take the cake...

Spider bags!

Spider bags!

Damn!

Yo, y'all seen Marlo?

Y'all ain't seen him?

Y'all know him?

Marlo?

Yeah, yeah, he was here.

Now he ain't.

Get those spider bags,
spider bags!

Jesus, Tommy, I like to shit

when I looked up and saw you
on the news, givin' it to Erv.

You fucker,
you're up to something.

I'm up to nothing,
I'm telling you.

I can help him, he can help me.

A little itch here,
a little scratch there.

This is a win-win
for you, ain't it?

He won't play? You beat the shit
outta him because crime is up.

Press loves it and you score.

Flip-side is that if he caves,

you get yourself a snitch
in the Mayor's inner-circle.

So um...

what's my role
in your little drama?

I thought you might
broker a meeting.

You know,

help your fearless leader see the light
about his new friend on the council.

And I should tell him, what?

Make nice or invest heavily
in petroleum jelly?

Hey, his ass, his choice.

You didn't talk to him?

I couldn't find
the motherfucker.

Man, we just walk up,
we gonna bump.

There.
Middle of the block, right there.

Yo, where the whistle at?

Hold on.

Wait for Marlo.

Yo, Cheese.
Where you been at, man?

Nigger, that ain't
nothin' but bait.

Just soap your bitch.

Who my dawg?
You my dawg.

Who's my Dawg?
Who's my baby?

You make daddy some money, alright?
Yeah.

25 large on Dawg.

Cheese!

Yeah.

Anybody I want?

Anybody.

I want more than one.

I want the Olsen twins.

You got 'em.

Slaves.

All they live for
is to get you off.

But so now who
you gonna do for 'em?

One guy, one act, one time.

Right.
And the minute I name a guy

you're gonna be like,
"I knew you were a cocksucker

"from the first time
I laid eyes on you.

Steve McQueen, huh?
That's your fantasy?

You fuckin'
closet-case motherfucker.

Steve McQueen?

Fuck you, it's a set-up.

Both Olsen twins.

Ashley.

- Kate.
- Mary-Kate.

And yeah, I admire
their body of work.

They're yours.

All you gotta do is name a guy.

I'm not catching, I'm pitching.

No problem.

Cornermen out of the pit.

Release your dogs.

I got that!
Yeah! I got that!

Break your dogs!

Bait...

Oh shit, there it is.

Can it just be like...

like this unbearable-looking woman?

You know like that old tune
from "The Golden Girls"

the short one with
the coke-bottle glasses...

A guy.

Hey, yo.

Huh?

Let me ask you a question.

Where do you guys get those hats
with the bills over the ears like that?

I go into all the city stores
and the only ones I can find

are the ones with
the bills in the front.

Naw, it's the same.
Just turn it sideways on your head.

Thanks. Thank you.

That's a knucklehead from
the low-rises, right there.

Terrace's spreading out.

They got to go
somewhere, I guess.

Don't think you ought
needed to do that.

He turned cur on me, man...

Nah.

I think you got played.

So, I'm guessin' from the Terrace
being all cute about the property line.

I just wanted to wait and see
what you wanted us to do about it.

So, what you want us to do?

Get back to work.

Alright.

Your boy really jammed me,
that little prick.

It was all over the news.

You did not look particularly
commissioner-like.

Mayor told me the same thing.

You can't have that shit
every week,

not if you want His Honor
to give you the job permanent.

Tommy's a good kid, usually.

An asspain when
he wants something,

but mostly good people.

I don't give a shit what he is.

Well, you can't have him
pounding on you, Erv.

Throw him a bone,

he'll take care of you.

Alright,

but I draw the line at going behind
the Mayor for this guy.

You can't sit where I'm sitting
and backdoor the fucking Mayor.

Sorry I'm late, guys.

My kid had a little league game.
It started late.

Well, I'll leave
you boys to it.

And what I have brought together,
let no man tear asunder.

- He win?
- Who?

Your kid, his team.

Oh shit, who keeps score?

Yeah, it's a little hectic,

but everybody steppin' off
at the right time.

These corner boys
we dealin' with?

I don't think they even
listen to their own people.

Yeah, I'm gonna
talk to peoples.

- Where you at?
- Marlo?

I can't find 'im.

And you told us not to start nothin',
so I set-up in the middle of the block.

You know, even that got hard stares.
I don't know.

It ain't gonna hold, I don't think.

This Marlo.

How hard you lookin' for him?

Like, why ain't you out there
looking for this motherfucker right now?

'Cause you called
this meeting here.

Shut the door.

What's your good news, man.

Omar right inside the stash.

Couple ounces of raw
already vialed, 600.

Cocksuckers even took my watch.

Second stash this month
they did got to.

I mean, he, um,
he called you by name, String.

I mean, all due respect, but
do like unless you step to him.

It's gonna be like this.

Alright, man.
Double the muscle on every stash we got.

And if the man comin',

make ready for the man.

It's not personal.

I swear to God,
it's never personal with me.

Truth is,

I've been a councilman
for almost three years now.

And that's a long
fucking time to be ignored.

And this being Baltimore,

a whiteboy doesn't stand
much chance running citywide.

Maybe the legislature,
if the right seat opens up.

But until then, I'm stuck
in a job with no power

except getting potholes filled.

All due respect, Councilman,

you're fucking with me because,
what, you're bored?

A little, yeah.

And what the fuck.

I mean, when it comes
to the crime thing,

this city can use all
the fucking help it can get.

If you're looking for dirt,
there isn't any.

There's always fucking dirt.

But right now, I'm just looking to know
how we could do better.

You give me that much.

I can try and get you
what you need privately.

No hearings, no press,
no grandstanding.

And if I don't play ball?

You're gonna have my ass

every time I'm in front
of your committee, right?

One thing comes to mind.

Shoot.

I can't get my marked units
back from Dickman Street to save my life.

Cars that are shopped for service
don't come back for weeks.

You tell the Mayor?

Not that you heard it from me.

Of course not.

- How much these?
- 10,000 a set.

Nigger show that on a ride,
he hangin' a sign on himself.

Lock my ass up.

No, shit.

So how you gonna play it?

If they from the Terrace,
that's Avon.

I know.

And Avon, he comin' home, too.

Well, if you inclined to work
something out, that's one thing.

If not?

Avon can seriously handle up.

I know.

So if you want to hold onto what's yours,
you best be ready.

You remember
that Barksdale kid?

The one who took
all the weight?

Tied his neck to a doorknob
in the prison library and sat his ass down.

I dunno.

Men of color usually don't do themselves.

I mean, take me,
for instance...

Yeah, I mean.
You got all the reason in the world...

And yet here I am,
still standing.

Give or take.

You looked at the scene photos?

Nah, there ain't none.

State police dogged it.

My turn, Bunk.

Come on, come on.
Go with number three.

You gonna play
my song, darling?

Huh?

- You play the right song...
- Hey, Bunk.

I can make you hit
the high notes, baby.

Hey, Bunk.

Hey, look,
I saw her first, Jimmy...

Bunk, man, what are you doing?

I got a place
right here in Canmden.

Be a gentleman, come on.

I'm bein' a gentleman, man.

I'm really
not interested, okay?

Come on, let's go.

You're all pink, baby.

I'm really sorry, he's had a bit
too much to drink, you know?

It's okay, thank you, thanks.

- You alright?
- Yeah.

You get yourself home?

Yeah.

Knock it out.

Naw, the baddest nigger
of all time?

Who?

This nigger from New York
from the olden days,

- Bumpy something...
- Bumpy?

Yo, he do shit like, run up
to a police station by himsself.

Nah.

You know what I'm sayin'?
Shit like that. Cops be like hidin', like,

"Yo, Bumpy, we sorry, man, we sorry.
Please go away, please, please!"

Woof.

And obtain gainful employment

and refrain from associating
with known criminals,

and keep this office
informed of your residence

and any change in that residence.

So I gather you're not working
at this particular time.

They still doin' the morning
shape-ups down at the market?

I don't know and I don't care.
Just get a job, any job.

- "Woof"?
- "Woof", like a dog.

Oh shit, it was like blaow!

It was Cheese's boy, Tri.

So you gonna hit back or what?

You got a better shot
of the ligature?

Yeah, inside.

What he do, hang himself twice?

He could have been leaning straight forward
until he blacked out then slid down

which would give you the vertical.

Or how about I come up
at him from behind...

and then set him down, make it
look like goodbye cruel world.

What do the scene shots show?

None taken.

The troopers really fucked
the pooch on this one.

All I have is some
half-assed report

reads like the investigator
went off his ritalin.

What's a large eckee...

No, large ecchymotic area,
or mid-back.

Bruising.

What, mid-back... as in...?

Or he banged himself a few
days earlier in the shower.

Yeah, maybe.

Nothing like a definite maybe.

Tri finally got that m?

Done it on foot too.

Caroline?

Nigger lyin' in chalk but my boy Tri
got the dapple all up his sleeve.

Looks like polka dots.

But that's just something
you got to know from experience,

You know what I'm sayin'?

I even had to school him on the whistle,
still walkin' around with it.

"Yo Tri, stash that shit up at Neesey'S.
What's wrong with you?"

Aw, you know them niggers
is gonna get mad busy over this

so we gettin' busy too.

So what time you comin' over?

Damn, bitch,
ain't you even listenin'?

You still there?

Time-out!

Do that again.

- Do what again?
- Do that thing with your hand.

Do it in my face.

Fuck you talkin' about?

Got a lot of room in here.

Fuck the police!

Naw, man, we was just hangin'.

Just slingin'.

How'd you work it out
with the corner crews,

all you guys from the Terrace
coming in like this?

I don't know
what you talkin' about.

Well, you best watch your ass.
'Cause the slingers out here?

They're like the
crack babies' babies.

Man, every year
everybody's like:

"Yeah, these kids out here,
they're a new breed."

"I ain't never seen
nothing like this before."

"This the end
of the world now."

Look around, fuckhead.

This seem like the dawn
of a new day to you?

Can I go now?

Or you want to slap me up
some more first.

Get the fuck out of here.

How about a handjob?

Huh?

Aw, man, you don't even get
Weezy Jefferson for a handjob.

Come on.

Dozerman.

Wanna call it a day?

They came back on us this time.

Dazz an' them.
They got Peanut.

Oh, shit, is Peanut dead?

Naw, he's okay.

His brains all over
the sidewalk but he's okay.

What the hell do you think?

Ah, shit, I gotta call Tony.
I'll get back Atchya.

Alright.

Well, that's two
we heard about.

What the hell's going on?

Drug war maybe?

S'up?

Nothing good, man.

I ain't sleep since
I capped his ass.

Close my eyes, see him layin'
there all bloody and shit.

Cheese, man,
you did what you had to do.

What I thought I had to do.

That's Cheese?

He was my Dawg, yo.

Had much love for me,
even then.

I ain't never gonna find
another Dawg like that...

well, they payin' for it now.

Mos' def.

For months, these assholes
show perfect phone discipline.

Now, they're
talking up murders?

Cheese is only a level
below Proposition Joe.

All of a sudden,
this case has legs.

Homicide...

This is Freamon, major-case.

Who's the O.I.C. tonight?

Hold on for Norris.

Yo, T., T., Man.

S'up?

I'm shot, I'm shot.

Aw shit, shit,
they comin' back.

Motherfucker!

Who this?

Damn.

Detective Norris.

Ed, this is Lester.

I hear you're catchin'
bodies on the east side.

You "hear" it?
Like what, "probable cause," hear it?

Like, "I got something
concrete," hear it?

Or just,
"gas up my head," hear it?

Like, "I got all the fucking time
in the world to jaw with you," hear it?

How many bodies you got, Eddie?

"How many you got, Eddie?"

Asshole.

- You want me to go up to homicide?
- No, I got it, I got it.

You're the early man
on tomorrow, so go home.

See your kid.

I'm telling you, this kid
Berman's a fucking wizard.

I mean check it out, right?

Six reported auto thefts,

two of which state,
"not impossible car was borrowed"

making four auto thefts,
with two unfounded.

And the prizewinner?
Four armed robberies,

two of which complainants state,
"too dark to I.D. weapon,

not impossible
knife wasn't a com.."

- He mighta groomed 'em to death.
- Yeah...

Wine into water.

There he is.

Abbadabba Berman.

The Doctor Atkins of crime.

Just doing what I'm told.

God, what a beautiful film.

I couldn't understand a word.

Oh, honey,
you gotta read the subtitles.

Oh shit.

Y'all go to the movies?

And you must be
the lovely Mrs. Herc.

How'd you like your movie?

Okay.

Herc and Carver here?
They try to snatch us up everyday like...

where the shit, who got the shit...

but they never get nothing.

So y'all go to the movies.

Damn.

Alright then. See ya tomorrow.

Is everything okay?

On two.

Pick up!

Pick up!

- Ed, you gotta help me.
- I can't, now now.

So.

So?

Everything good?

How's that fontanette?

Fontanelle.

Is it closing up?

Won't close for a while.

Good.

Good?

I'm just, I'm just sayin'.

Seis hombres, seis dolares.
Seis hombres...

I ain't sleep since
I capped his ass.

Close my eyes an' see him layin'
there all bloody and shit?

- Cheese.
- Cheese on a platter.

He never talks like that.

Now, why would...

because all good things
come to those who wait.

Does McNulty know?

I'll raise his ass.

We'll keep our ears to the wire
keep gathering String, no problem.

But if bodies keep falling
in the Eastern District,

we might have to give up
this wire tap.

Now you comin' around?

Been more than a dam year.

Looks just like his dad, huh?

Let me ask you.

When you heard Dee was
a suicide, what'd you think?

Hey, little fellow.
Come here.

Here's the thing: we got a tip.
And the autopsy report it backs us up.

Can you put him down please?

Sure.

You know,
I'm sorry about your loss.

He seemed like a pretty decent
guy, all things considered.

So when I found out about this,

I felt like I owed him...

the last thing I wanted to do was upset you
if there was no point to it, so...

if there's anything I can help with
or any questions you need answered...

or whatever.

Major, how many people
are under your command?

278, Sir.

278.

And how many felony arrests
they make last month?

Don't bother.

You made 16.

16.

In a month.

Same time period.
How many handguns you pick up?

All shifts, all sectors...

once again, don't bother.
The answer is none.

None.

You had four bodies last
night in how many hours?

Shut the fucking book,
how many hours?

Seven.

Try five.

Tell me about this kid.

- I believe his name is James...
- James Toney.

When's the last time
he was arrested?

With who?

Where's he sling?

How about this guy?

Or him? Or him?

You know what?

You got four bodies, all within
two blocks of each other

and you can't even start
to connect the fucking dots.

You got eight hours to get a grip
on this mess or you're done. You hear me?

Done.

Marlo?

You know I'm with Avon, right?

Stringer Bell?

Can we talk?

I need you to walk back up
there and pack up your people.

I'm being a gentleman
about it for the moment.

You offer up what you have on this,
you start the clock running on yourselves.

The wiretap has to surface in court.

No way around it.

She's right.

We finally got something
worth listening to

and you're talking
about giving up the wire?

Makes no sense.

There's a war going on.

We might have
four more bodies tonight.

This is Baltimore,
we might have six.

I watched Marvin Taylor
from the Eastern

get his asshole ripped today
because he has no fucking clue.

I don't believe this.

We got top lieutenants
talking about murders,

and we can't figure out just
to shut up and take notes?

We got bodies on the ground, Jimmy.
That's gotta matter for something.

Look, if we're at Cheese
then we're close to Prop Joe,

and if we're close to Joe,
then we're close to Stringer.

That has to matter.

Look, I was right there with you
when we left Stringer on the street

and it grinds me, too.

But the fact is, we didn't create
this unit just to lock up dope dealers.

There's a narcotics unit
downtown for that.

We're about violence.
Have been from the jump.

Barksdale was violent.

But right now, Stringer's quiet,
and over on the eastside, we got bodies.

Jimmy, we got enough from the tap
to take a real good shot at Cheese.

You put a murder case
or two together,

you may be able to roll someone up
at Proposition Joe or Stringer.

As far as bodies go,
four's a big number.

Okay then.

As of now, we use the phones
to work these murders.

Yo quiero mucho menos
pastillas de secoya en eso.

Y muy mas ancho un poco.

Si?

Gracias.

Yo, we bracin' up, son.

Hanh?

Gather yo'self, nigga.
We gotta bead on Dazz.

Be at Neesey's crib in a hour.

Dazz be with neesey?
I thought she was your girl.

Neesey, huh?
Got it.

We just hook up there,
then goin' to battle.

Bring your whistle,
in a hour, one.

Mount up.

Caroline, call qrt with
that 20 and stay on the wire.

- We're on channel two.
- Alright.

Yo, Tri,
what size fries you want?

What?

Go!

Police! Freeze! Hands up!

Put your hands up!

Put your hands up!
Hands on your head!

Okay, Mary Tyler Moore.
Buck-naked.

Open the door, here I come,

drop my attache case down,
bend her over,

give it to her on the ottoman,
and she's like,

"Oh Rob, oh Rob..."

Who's Rob?

From the show. Done.

Mary-Kate and Ashley...
I don't want to say.

Just accept whatever pictures
are on my mind right now.

Anybody else?

Yeah, Dozerman's girl,
what's her name?

She's baking a cake.

Naked.

White flour splotches all
over her fine brown skin.

I come in, in a chef's hat,
nothing else on,

johnson out to here and say,
"that's no way to stir a batter.

Here, let me try to get..."
Hey, Doze,

what's up?

Done, now the guy.

This is a hard one for
anybody to understand.

I mean it's got
nothing to do with sex.

It's about... sympathy.

- It's about giving a guy a break.
- Yeah, okay, okay.

Gus Triandos.

Who's Gus Triandos?

A catcher with the Orioles
back in the day.

Me and my brother had his card,

sorry lookin' motherfucker, man.

I mean, he looked
like this little kid

who got left at a bus station
by his parents.

You know why?

Because he had to catch Hoyt
Wilhelm's knuckle ball.

Five fucking years,
the worst gig in baseball.

It was like trying to catch
a greased pig with wings.

He even told a reporter once
"Wilhelm nearly ruined me."

Gus Triandos.

Big slow guy.

- Good choice.
- Go ahead, say it.

- I know you want to say it.
- Say what? There's nothing to say.

- Nothing?
- You put a lot of thought into it.

It's cool.

Okay.

Okay.

Tonight, three things.

Number one.

Keep your incident numbers sequential
or it's gonna be a stone mess tomorrow.

Number two.

We'll be photographing
evidence at the scene.

That means don't bag anything
until you get the shot off.

And number three,

don't embarrass yourselves...

make sure your camera's
loaded with film.

Okay, mount up.

So Cheese,

who's your Dawg?

You my Dawg.

I just wanna know
who's your Dawg, Dawg.

What's this some psychology, huh?

Yeah, okay, uh, "yo, please stop, stop.
I'll tell you everything I know."

C'mon, Cheese.

Who's your Dawg?

Aw, hell no.
You ain't layin' no bodies on me, man.

Lawyer time.

"He was my Dawg, man."

"I ain't sleep since
I capped his ass."

"Lookin' up at me
all bloody and shit?"

"Had much love for me
even then."

"I ain't never
gonna find another..."

Man, you all some
cold-ass motherfuckers, man.

We got you on tape.

So what happen, Cheese?

I thought he punked me, alright?
So I did what I had to do.

Which was...

Lit him up.

Well, he's talking anyway.

Well, what's done is done.

But, maybe we can
help you on this.

How?

You gonna bring him back?

No, on the consequences.

Help us help you.

- What?
- Maybe we can trade up.

Trade up for what, man?
For this?

- The fuck...
- Proposition Joe.

You give us Prop Joe and maybe

we look at this whole thing
with Dawg differently.

Now, why would I be talkin'
about Prop Joe behind...

You know what, man?
I don't even know no Prop Joe.

Okay, Dawg...

which one of these is he?
Where's that body?

Where I left it most likely.

- Warehouse on the east side.
- And he still there?

Far's I know.
'Less the SPCA come around.

What?

Looks like they broke him.

I got to say.
You really showed me something on this.

What can I possibly add to that
except I owe you one, Cedric.

You ever have one of those
have-your-cake-and-eat-it-too days?

I believe this could be my first.

Tell me something good.

We're charging him.

Improper disposal of an animal.
Discharging a firearm in city limits.

Animal cruelty, if you
wanna run wild with it.

Go ahead.
Call me a cocksucker.

- You know you wanna.
- Excuse me?

You know, I actually looked up
the stats on Gus Triandos.

Power hitter, right?

Fuck the both of you.

Later, dawg.

Kiss my ass.

Night, Bunk.

Funny day...

I'm the new departmental pet
for shutting down a drug war,

but I blew my wire
for a dead terrier.

You remember how you said you
hoped today would be your first

have-your-cake-and-eat-it-too day?

What about it?

Okay, gents.

You see the brake lights pump twice,
you know we got a clean hand-to-hand.

So I get in this morning and I'm
looking at three phone messages

from Buddy Ferraro over at D.P.W.

All assuring me that I'll have
20 radio cars back in service

at the end of the week.

Buddy and my old man go way back.

Made their first communion
together at St. Leo's.

So...

what else do you need?

You didn't go to
the Mayor with it?

Did you get your cars?

Did anyone get fucked over it?

Or did your job
just get a little easier?

I got 70 cops retiring
at the end of the year.

That I know of and no money for
an academy class.

The Mayor fucked you 'cause
I know that money was in the budget.

The Mayor delayed it
till next summer.

Less troops, less salary,
less bennies.

Even a six-month delay saves the city
two, three million.

Lemme talk to some people.

Yeah.

Major Colvin?

Yeah.

I'm sorry to call you this late,

but we have an officer
down in your district.

Which hospital?

I, ah, just got the lease, so...

Fucking solo cars!

I shoulda teamed him.
I fucked up.

Dead-ass motherfucker's dead.

We catch up to him,
he don't come in alive.

Right?

Nicked jugular, shattered jaw.

He'll live.

Hand me one of those.

I just got back
from shock-trauma.

You guys saved his ass getting
him down as fast as you did.

So what we got for a suspect?

Number one male, white t-shirt.
Baggy jeans, tennis shoes.

In the wind, but we're
locking it down out there.

So what's this
I hear about the gun?

Doze tried to return fire,
he dropped his piece.

Some fuck picks it up and books.

I mean I can't
believe this shit.

I'll take it.

No, no, no...

It'll be nicer when
I fix the place up.

Cedric...

I don't care.

No, tell him I'm cooked.

I just got done at
the hospital, I'm all in.

Well, he was askin' if you could
maybe talk to the reporters.

He doesn't want me talking
to reporters right now.

Alright.

That would truly be unwise.

Alright, alright,
I'll tell him.

Alright.

Bunny.

You look hellacious.

You got coffee going in there?

You know what I was thinking?

Tonight's a good night.

Why?

Because my shot cop didn't die.

And it hit me...

this is what makes
a good night on my watch:

Absence of a negative.

That was a good night.

Here's the thing.

Six months from now?

I'm gone.

I put in my 30

and the only thing that'll be left of me
on that job is an

eight-by-eleven framed picture
in the western hallway.

But you know what?

The shit out there,

the city,

is worse than
when I first came on.

So what does that say about me?

About my life...

Aw, c'mon, man.
You're talking about drugs.

That's a force of nature.

That's sweeping leaves on a windy day
whoever the hell you are.

You fought the good fight...

Not a call since
we gave it up to Cheese.

What did you expect?

Attention.

Be seated.

Regarding officer Dozerman,

His condition has been
upgraded to guarded.

'Till he can receive visits,

he's beemoved to the recovery unit.

As of this tour,

all hand-to-hand
undercover buys of C.D.S.

Are suspended
in the Western District.

Somewheres

back in the dawn of time

this district had
itself a civic dilemma

of epic proportions.

The city council
had just passed a law

that forbid alcoholic
consumption in public places.

On the streets

and on the corners.

But the corner is, and it was
and it always will be

the poor man's lounge.

It's where a man wants to be
on a hot summer's night.

It's cheaper than a bar,

catch a nice breeze,
watch the girls go by.

But the law's the law

and the western cops rollin' by,

what were they gonna do?

If they arrested every dude out there
for tipping back a high life

there'd be no other time
for any other kind of police work.

And if they looked
the other way?

They'd open themselves
to all kinds of flaunting,

all kinds of disrespect.

Now, this is before
my time when it happened but,

somewheres back
in the 50s or 60s,

there was a small moment of

goddamn genius by some
nameless smokehound

who comes out
the cut-rate one day

and on his way to the corner,

he slips that just-bought
pint of Elderberry

into a paper bag.

A great moment
of civic compromise.

That small wrinkled-ass paper bag

allowed the corner boys
to have their drink in peace

and gave us permission

to go and do police work.

The kind of police work
that's actually worth the effort,

that's worth actually
taking a bullet for.

Dozerman,

he got shot last night
trying to buy...

three vials.

Three!

There's never been a paper bag...

for drugs.

Until now.

If we ain't doing hand-to-hands,
then what the fuck?

And that shit with the bag?

What the fuck is that?