All language subtitles for Tulsa.King.S01E08.Adobe.Walls.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.H.264-NTb-eng

So, is this a one
off or one of many?

Too soon to tell.

- Pike's cut.
- Fucking bullet holes.

Oh, no. No!

- I can't go back there.
- But you gotta do it one more time.

Okay? Just get me something.

He has a
laptop. I saw it.

I read the book.

We partner up.
You, me, and Mitch.

- Put a casino in the back.
- How much does that cost?

Maybe a half a million
bucks to grease the wheels.

Did you really think you were
the only criminal in Tulsa?

There he is. The General.

How's it
going? How's Tulsa?

Listen, did you fuck
up Dwight's son-in-law?

I dunno what you're
talking about.

You think Dwight is a
better man than I am?

- What?
- It's what you said.

Enough with this
Dwight bullshit.

I got a call.

Pete had a heart attack.

All right,
fellows and ladies...

You hold the gun in your
hand, bend your knees,

use the other hand to steady it.

You place the target
in between the sight,

and then you slowly and calmly
pull back on the trigger.

You do not fucking jerk it.

Let's go again.

Oh, I suck at this.

Ah, practice makes perfect.

Why are we
practicing, again?

- What are you doing?
- Nothing.

I... look, I... I feel
very uncomfortable

with the idea of
shooting somebody.

You know what's
more uncomfortable?

Someone shooting you.

You know, before you came along,

I had never even
held a gun before.

I'm trying to save your ass.

I appreciate it.

- What the fuck are you doing?
- I got my own style, man.

Didn't you hear what
Mitch said to you?

Got your own style? You
know what your style is?

You're gonna hit
everything except

for what you're aiming at.

Look.

The gun is not made that way.

You hold it sideways,

the physics will
take it that way.

- Basic physics.
- What's up, motherfucker?

Yeah, what's up?

What's up?

What's up? What's up?

What's up? What's up?

What's up is you look like
an idiot, and a dead one.

Dwight.

What are we doing here, man?

I'm dealing with the
bad news fucking bears.

Yeah, tell me about it.

I'm looking for some
evil-doing buddies here.

Your friends need some money?

I got a couple boys in the rodeo
that are gunning for some cash.

This ain't a rodeo.

They're ex-cons if that
makes it any better.

Definitely helps. Get them.

- Jane Wayne.
- What?

There's a cowboy
named John Wayne.

I'm saying Jane Wayne, it's
kind of a takeoff on it.

Who taught you to
shoot like that?

My dad.

Yeah? It's nice.

So, you had activities
together. Nice.

Yeah. Not really.

- Well, I understand that, too.
- No, you don't.

He shot himself two years ago.

Shit. I'm sorry.

Can I ask why we're
doing all this?

Are there people after
us? Just very curious.

'Cause the last thing I wanted
to do was shoot a gun again.

It's important to learn
how to defend yourself.

Of course. But what
the fuck did we do

to get dragged into your shit?

You didn't do anything.
This is all on me.

Except it isn't. It's
on all of us, too.

Whether we like it or not,
we're living the Dwight life.

Look, I don't know what
else to say, Grace.

How about you're
really fucking sorry

for turning our
lives upside down?

I'm sorry.

- I mean it.
- Fine. Thank you.

Listen, we're all adults, okay?

We know what happens
when you play

with other people's toys.

So, we're not going anywhere.

That said, you're a
smart guy, our leader.

So, lead us out of this shit.

And next time, just take
a moment and think about

being careful with our little
just regular lives, okay?

Okay.

Will you put this
fucking gun down?

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Hey!

Where'd you bury her?

I... I
beg your pardon?

Are you begging my pardon?

Roxy Harrington.

I'm afraid I don't
know who that is.

Really? Surprising.

Well, maybe let me
refresh your memory.

Carson Pike's girlfriend.
You murdered her?

Yeah. Her.

Yeah.

No, I haven't seen her.

Haven't seen Mr. Pike
either, come to think of it.

Huh?

I'm not done with you, asshole.

Yeah, but I'm done with you.

So, your involvement
in the casino will be obscured

by an anonymous trust structure.

So, I won't have to
file with the state.

Exactly. There'll be nothing
to associate the assets

with your name,
shielding you from many

potential legal problems,
you know, whatever.

Okay. I understand me
getting the casino license,

but how does this bar qualify
for a Native American exemption?

Well, it's situated
on Cherokee land.

We just transfer
ownership to your name.

- Or Bad Face's.
- Fuck no.

Bad Face would never
get a liquor license.

He's got way too many
arrests. As a matter of fact,

he's a guest of the
government as we speak.

- Come on. What happened?
- He hit a cop,

broke three knuckles
on his right hand.

How'd that happen?

Well, the cop was
standing on the other side

of a glass door
when he smashed him.

- That's how I'd do it.
- I miss that guy.

I took the liberty

of putting our
business plan together.

So, all you gotta do
is put your name on the license

and we'll take care
of all the finances.

And in exchange, I get what?

20% and full-time
access to the buffet.

Jimmy, changing subjects.

I need some really tough, like,
maybe Bad Face Indigenous types.

You know any guys like that?

Well, there are a couple of
guys I dealt with in the past

that are some pretty
badass fucking cowboys.

Well, they're cowboys
or they're Indians?

Well, you can be both, you know.

Right. Anyway,
send them my way.

Yeah, sure thing.

You didn't bring any
of that apricot jelly

by any chance?

As a matter of fact, I did.

- All right.
- Apricot jelly?

You're gonna like
this. Trust me.

- Oh, it's so good.
- First thing in the morning.

- Who is that?
- Louis Refedori's kid.

Yeah. You
know him, from around.

The fucking stress he caused my
dad from the day he got back.

That's what gave him
the heart attack.

Who? You mean The General?

- Yeah. How's he doing out there?
- Put it this way.

Some of the people in this room

could be expecting to
replace him shortly.

Carry the torch, so to speak.

- Pass the torch.
- Carry the casket.

- Whose casket?
- Who do you fucking think?

Dwight?

He's a made man. He's
a fucking legend.

- And?
- Nothing, man.

He's just... what Vince said.

I mean, you can't talk
flippant, like you're gonna...

Gonna whack a made man.

Johnny, what the fuck you
think we're talking about here?

Wait. You gonna take
out The General?

Fuck you been?

Johnny, catch up, please.

The decision's
already been made.

Thank you.

- Where was I?
- Sending people out to Tulsa.

Hey, can... can I
interject one more thing?

What?

Dwight, he's like
your dad's brother.

Whatever the issue, isn't
there another solution here?

Actually, there is.

How about I take you out?

You stupid motherfucker!
You disloyal fuck!

Hey. Hey.

Not here. Not here.

Party's over. Go home.

How many
bikes do you count?

Eight. That's a lot of them.

So, you gonna tell
me what's going on?

What do you mean?

You coming back from New
York, your hands all bruised.

- The bar is shot up.
- Mm-hmm.

You and me checking
all squirrelly.

I mean, obviously
something went down.

Look, it's not that
I don't trust you,

but sometimes the less
you know the better.

Okay. So, it's for
my own good, right?

It is for your own good.

Why are you acting
like a fucking child?

It's 'cause you fucking treat
me like a child. What you mean?

Do you know what accessory is?

Accessory after the fact?

- Not really.
- No? Okay.

Well, if you know about a
crime and you don't report it

to the cops, you're
part of that crime.

You get it? Or do you need me to
paint a bigger fucking picture?

Look, I'm just saying, how
am I supposed to stand guard

if I don't even know what
I'm guarding against?

They're the same
cops that arrested me

before right there.

Well, there's your answer.

So Dwight
Manfredi, as far as we know,

he ain't just passing through.

He and an ex-con,
Mitchell Keller,

have been selling nitrous, but
that led to a clash with...

Black Macadam. We know.
We've been tracking them

for months for guns
and explosives.

It was actually one
of their girlfriends

that brought Manfredi
to our attention.

- Our informant.
- Our murdered informant.

- What happened there?
- Well, there's no body

- so we don't...
- Caolan Waltrip killed her.

Waltrip's head of the gang.
Tail turn up anything?

Manfredi? Couple of stops
at Keller's bar, Bred2Buck,

and the weed store
he's partnered in.

He also seems to be dating
someone, a Margaret Devereaux.

Took her to dinner
the other night.

She owns a horse
farm, Fennario Ranch.

There's also some other
woman he's been seen with,

- but we haven't been able to...
- Okay.

So, basically what you're saying
is the FBI has nothing, right?

I'm sorry, am I wrong?

Why are we wasting our
time on this bullshit

when the fact is there's a
war brewing on the streets

between the most vicious
biker gang in Tulsa

and a fucking nobody
New York gangster?

Manfredi's not
even an ATF target.

We should be focused on Waltrip.

Okay? The fucking
murderer who's trafficking

- in drugs and stolen weapons.
- Stacy.

No. No. He's got money.

- Like serious money.
- What do you mean?

Roxy, our informant, told
me before she was killed.

- How much we talking?
- I don't know.

But I'm sure he's not
paying taxes on it.

So, let's go that route.

Could be something there.

Guys, it's
all we've got.

Let's get this fucking
shit head off the streets

before more people get killed.

Moss Wheelwright,
a pleasure.

- How you doing? Dwight.
- All right.

Moss is a bullfighter these
days. Distracts the bull.

Wrangles him when
the rider falls off.

Man, sorry I'm late, brother.
Had to sneak out of work.

- Howdy. Ben Hutchins.
- Hey, Ben. Dwight.

Pleasure. Don't
mind the blood.

- I work at a slaughterhouse.
- You're all right.

Look, I told the boys
what we're looking for.

- You guys okay with that?
- I Will kill without remorse.

Amen to that.

You guys start
whenever you want.

Hey, so, you're in the mafia?

Nah, there's no such a thing.

Fucking idiot.

This is the last
of it right here.

- Ma ain't gon' come say bye?
- She, uh...

She can't. She's crying.

Why it's gotta be like that?

You'll understand
when you have a kid.

If you have a kid.

Of course I'm gonna have a kid.

You know the hardest thing
about being a father?

Standing by, watching
your kid get hurt.

We take you to the playground,

you... you be high up
on that jungle gym,

10 feet in the air, and my
heart would be in my throat.

- That was fun, right? Dad?
- Yeah. You were, son.

What you doing now, this
ain't no playground.

What you talking about?
I'm too old for playground.

But still young enough
to make bad choices.

- Dad.
- But we don't have to debate this, Tyson.

You made your decision.

We did our best.

I'm gon' be all right.

God bless you, son.

- Thanks a lot, my friend.
- See you tomorrow, cuz.

Cuz?

- Tina.

So, I've been thinking about
what you said, you know,

about us coming to
Oklahoma, and...

I think a change of
scenery would be nice.

Yeah. No,
it's exciting.

But I think we gotta put
a pin in it at the moment.

Is everything okay?

No, it's not that.

Every... everything is fine.
It's just that I gotta get

things together. I wanna
get the right room.

I want the kids
to be comfortable.

Maybe we should slow
things down anyway

because, for all intents and
purposes, we did just meet.

Yeah.

Yeah. Maybe you're right.

Tina, I really wanna
meet my grandkids.

Yeah, you will. When
the time is right.

Okay.

That's good. Please call me.

And stay safe.

Will do. Bye.

I love you. Bye.

Where's Caolan Waltrip?

Fuck do I know?

How about Robbie Trucotte?

- At his house, I guess.
- Yeah. Where's that?

Trailer park off Elwood.

Kyra. I'll take that.

Thank you.

Glad
someone's riding him.

Hey.

- Dwight Manfredi.
- Yeah.

Brian Gillen, the
former Mr. Devereaux.

Yeah. It's a nice animal.

Could be good for
PATH certification.

That's therapeutic horsemanship.

You mean like a service animal?

Yeah, that's
what I meant. Yeah.

That'd be a tough thing to get
on an airplane, wouldn't it?

That's for sure.

Hey, Peg,
Javier's looking for you.

I'll be right back.

Yeah. That Peggy, she's
a... she's quite a gal.

Yeah. She's a lovely lady.

And I trust that you're
being respectful.

'Cause I know your, um,
type, really big on respect.

Is there a problem?

Yeah. Let's just cut
the crap, shall we?

I know what you're up to.

You found a woman of means and
you're fixin' to fleece her.

Not for nothing.

But you don't know
nothing about me.

You don't think I
don't know who you are?

You... you... you... you...
You're a fucking relic.

I mean, you... with all
your... your tough talk

and your shiny shoes.

But here's the thing.

That dog, it just
don't hunt down here.

Maybe it don't hunt,
but it fucking bites.

You are funny, Manfredi.
You are. You are.

You know, I've... I've
faced down carpetbaggers,

wildcatters,
cattlemen, the Klan.

So, you'll forgive me
if I don't exactly quake

at the prospect of being
at loggerheads with you.

Hey.

Well, I'll leave
you two to catch up.

- Nice guy.
- Ah, you think so? Hmm.

Here I thought you were a
good judge of character.

Actually, he's an asshole.

I mean, I understand that
love can be a temporary form

of insanity and I
don't want to embar...

I mean, you know
what? I don't care.

Wanna say that you had to
be out of your fucking mind

to marry that bum, just saying.

- Really.
- Yeah. Maybe.

Well, I'm thinking
quite clear now.

Would you care to
stay for lunch?

I'm starving.

Jesus.

- Holy shit.
- How in the hell

did this guy get so much money?

He's flushing profits through
the global financial market.

I mean, this
fucker's into everything.

Internet party platforms,

crypto, credit
cards, real estate.

We need
to freeze these accounts.

That means a court order.

Yeah. That
could take days.

Can we get a rush on that?

Can't hurt to try.

I take it you heard
about the raid?

I have.

I'm sorry.

Well, your pity
doesn't really do much

for me now, does it?

The
ATF's federal, Caolan.

There's nothing
we could've done.

Well, it's not what
you could have done,

it's what you're gonna do now.

I want Manfredi.

We're on the clock, Caolan.

All right. You listen to
me, you fucking shit stain.

You're not gonna need that job
once I slit your fucking throat.

Arrest Manfredi, get
him into a jail cell,

somewhere I can get to him.

Arrest him for what?

You're a corrupt fucking cop.

Think of something.

Man, why I gotta get in
this casino racket, huh?

With Dwight?

Well, since throwing
in with Mr. Manse,

I have been co-opted,
abducted, raided by the Feds.

But?

He's a force
multiplier, no question.

So, I gotta go to the
Great White Father?

For what, a fuckin' grubstake
in the minestrone mint?

I mean, you're already doing
business with him. Right?

In for a penny, in for a pound.

Fuck it, in for a pound.

Hey, let's
swing by the buck.

- I wanna talk to Mitch.
- Oh, that's cool.

Well, I'mma... I'mma
go by Starbucks.

I wanna get me a... Oh,
what the fuck is that?

Same cops again.

I got this.

Dwight Manfredi?

Take your fucking hand out
from under your jacket.

Do it.

All right. Listen
up, carefully.

My hand is wrapped around
a fucking. 357 Magnum

with 158 grain hollow points
that will leave a hole

you could put your
fucking fist through.

You wanna see your
loved ones tonight?

I want you to rethink
whatever stupid, ill-conceived

idea that moronic biker
is putting you up to.

Get in your car, put it in gear,

and drive the fuck away.

We know where to find you.

That goes both ways.

So, what was that about?

Broken taillight.

I forgot my gun
back at the hotel.

You're a nice guy.

But if I wasn't
mandated to be here,

you would never
fucking see me again.

Well, forgive me for stating
the obvious, but that sounds

like someone who wants to avoid
discussing their problems.

No. I'm handling my problems.

With alcohol?

By getting shit done.

Care to elaborate?

Not really.

Paco Rabanne man?

The one who reminded
you of your father?

Have you seen him again?

Please tell me that's
not in my personnel file.

It's not.

But it sounds like you're
veering into behavior

that could cost you your career.

I appreciate your concern.

That's over. It is done.

- How you doing?
- Uncle Dwight?

You there?

Thank you for picking up.

- Of course.
- So, listen.

You probably know

we buried my dad yesterday.

Yeah. I'm sorry for your
loss and condolences.

But I'm not a hypocrite
either, Chickie.

Man tried to have me
killed on the inside.

- Dwight.
- 25 years of my life, gone.

Dwight.

I get it.

I'm calling because I
wanna move past all that.

We have to for the
sake of our future.

Okay. I'm listening.

The infighting, the
arguing, all the bad blood.

I mean, what kind of message
are we sending in-house?

Not to mention it
makes us look weak

in front of the other families.

If we're gonna survive,

you and me, we
gotta make amends.

And how do you
suggest we do that?

Along with my dad,

we bury the hatchet, all
this nonsense between us.

Vince, Nico, whatever you
got going on with Armand.

Honestly, I don't give a shit.

That's all behind
us as of right now.

Yesterday, watching them
lower my father's casket

into the ground, you know
what I realized, Uncle Dwight?

You are the last vestige

of my father that I got left.

I'm coming to visit.

Me, Vince, Goodie.

We have dinner, we break bread.

We show everybody
that we are unified.

I don't know if
that's necessary.

No, no. I... I... I want to.

We need closure here.

Okay. You know
where to find me.

You take
care of yourself.

I'll see you soon.

And the Oscar goes to...
Chickie Invernizzi.

Fuck that piece of shit.

Did you get him?

We couldn't find him.

The fuck does that mean?

Didn't
happen. He's not around.

You told me you
know where he lives.

He wasn't there. What do
you want me to tell you?

Incompetent piece of shit!

We'll
keep looking, Caolan.

- I'm sorry.
- Fuck it! Don't bother.

Fuck!

Well?

- Are these sardines in here?
- It's Sicilian.

You like it?

It's good. Yeah.

It's interesting.

Why were you so late tonight?

- Just work stuff.
- Yeah. How is work?

You haven't talked
about that lately.

Fine, you know.

Roxy quit.

- What?
- She's gone. I don't know.

Just stopped showing up.
Nobody knows where she is.

Peggy's a little freaked.

Hey, have you talked to that...

That friend of yours
recently? That one in Boise?

Del Holland? No. Why?

Just wondering if that job
could still be available.

We talked about this,
Clara. We're not moving.

I know. But I've been
thinking about...

- Stop thinking!
- Just listen to me.

This isn't what I already
know happened. Okay?

This... this is about not knowing
what is gonna happen tomorrow.

Nobody knows what's
gonna happen tomorrow.

- Stop yelling.
- I'm not... they can't hear me.

They got their VR headsets on.

Better a virtual
reality than this one.

Oh, your life's
so bad? Really?

I don't know. You tell me.

You know, when I came through
the living room earlier

and our two beautiful children
were sitting there watching TV,

I actually stopped

and I made sure that the
shades were pulled down.

Why? There's
nobody watching us.

- Nobody's... no?
- No.

No? That monster
wasn't watching us

before he came into our house

and put a fucking
gun to your head?

That's over. Okay?

Why? What? 'Cause
you're buddies now?

Jesus, Manny, you come home
at all hours of the night.

Now you're carrying
a fucking gun.

Your... your coworkers
are going missing.

Clara, I said enough!

Okay? We're not moving.

We're not fucking
running. You hear me?

Who the fuck are you?

I should never come
here in the first place.

That's who the fuck I am.

I should have
stayed in Brooklyn.

Well, that's very
nice. Thank you.

You know what I mean. It's
nothing to do with you.

It's just, there
comes a time, Clara,

you gotta stand up for
yourself, you know?

Fine.

Yeah. Great. Okay.

Yeah, you are absolutely right.

So, this is me
standing up for myself.

We either leave here
or we get divorced.

What?

I married a decent man, I
did not marry a criminal.

And I will not raise
my children with one.

Find another place to
sleep tonight or we will.

Ten o'clock tomorrow morning.

You got it, boss.

Dwight.

Hey, what are you doing here?

Just wanna let you know

that we raided
Waltrip this morning.

What? You're bringing him in?

No, he wasn't there.

- So, where is he?
- I don't know.

But there's a warrant out
for him and his lieutenant,

Robbie Trucotte.
They're in the wind.

- Hmm.
- Listen to me.

All right? It's over.

Wherever the fuck he is,

just let him stay there
and go on with your life.

I'll do my best.

Yeah. I'm not sure your
best is good enough.

I finally got the FBI to get
off this, so just move on.

So, how you doing?

How am I doing?
What does that mean?

Would you like to come
upstairs for a drink?

The balls on this guy.
Are you fucking serious?

I'm seriously
serious. Why not?

Why not? 'Cause you
and I are not a thing.

Do you not remember when I
told you to fuck off last time?

- You didn't mean that.
- Yeah, I did.

- Not to mention the... huh.
- Mention what?

- But what?
- Nothing.

Nothing? What were
you gonna say?

- I heard you have a girlfriend.
- You jealous?

- No, I'm not.
- A little bit?

- Hmm? No.
- Are you sure?

You're so full of yourself.

- Not full of myself.
- Yes!

Is there anything wrong

with being a little human here?

- I mean...
- I don't know.

I guess that's up for debate.

Listen, I don't
wanna be with you.

I just wanna move
on with my life.

Fuck.

Put
pressure, pressure.

Get an ambulance!
Someone get out here!

Hold on, hold on.

- Are you a doctor?
- I'm a doctor.

Okay.

Yo, what the fuck just happened?
I was just up the road.

The fucking thing, just hide it.

I'm gonna fucking annihilate
that motherfucker.

Blood on your hands.
You involved in this?

- What's your name, sir?
- Manfredi.

You leave town
Mr. Manfredi

Who'd want to leave
this paradise?

There's a bounty on
this Waltrip's head.

Anybody see him, anywhere,
anytime, they take him out.

And there's something
else. Chickie's here.

We're fucking done.

You know, I should
drop all of you,

right here, right fucking now.

We're going to war.

We're gonna put this fire
out once and for all.