All language subtitles for Oz.S04E15.AC3.DVDRip.XviD-MEDiEVAL.en

Ah, competition brings out
the best in people.

That's what they say.

When the game is on the line,
a true sportsman

wants the outcome
to rest on his shoulders.

The logic being:
you make the winning play,

you walk away a hero.

Of course, if you fuck up,
you're the goat.

The problem
with competition here in Oz

is we mostly got goats.

Please welcome a new
contestant, Joanie Kennedy.

And you are going
to be helped by a man

who's done just about everything,
Bill Boggs.

- How are you, Bill?
- Good to see you, Gordon.

Okay, let's play the game. The category
is sports. The question is this:

ln basketball, Joanie, what does it mean
when a referee makes this motion?

He wants to do the hustle?

Sorry, l don't
follow basketball.

l'm more into
deep-sea fishing.

Okay, an assist
from you then, Bill.

When the referee does that,
it's also known as ''walking.''

How you feeling there, Omar?

- l'm feeling pretty good.
- Really?

l still feel all kinds
of aches and pains

from when you stabbed me.

Well, you know,
l'm sorry about that.

- Oh, you're sorry?
- Yeah.

l'm sorry
you didn't die.

No, no, no!

Prisoner number 96G522,

Carmen Guerra,
aka ''Chico'';

Convicted June 4th, 1996;
murder in the first degree.

Sentence: 53 years,

up for parole in 17.

- McManus, l got to talk to you, man.
- Later.

lt's about your pet project,
Omar White.

- What about him?
- He's still a tit man.

And you feel compelled to tell me this
out of some need to save his soul?

Look, he shanked you
and he shanked me,

and it's only a matter of time before
he shanks someone else.

You shake him down,
you'll find drugs.

Shakedown!

Hey!

- Lookie, lookie.
- Look at my shit.

Double play.

- You yellow rat motherfucking punk!
- Fuck you, man.

- You bastard!
- Put Mr. Guerra in the cage.

- Take Mr. White upstairs.
- Fucking yellow rat bastard punk!

Pussy!

We had an agreement.

- No drugs.
- l know.

So tell me why l shouldn't FedEx
your ass back to solitary.

There is no reason.

lt's that when it come--

comes to tits, l'm just
a little shaky, man.

l mean,
God knows l try.

l try.

But the temptation--

it just grows and grows

until l can't help it.
l just--

l just got to shove that shit
where it don't belong.

You really think
l'm a bubblehead, don't you?

Sir?

You make
that sorrowful face,

you say what you think l want to hear.
You're full of shit, Omar!

And you can try my
patience only so far.

Now Sister Pete says you've been
inconsistent about going to rehab.

- Nuh-uh.
- There is a session at 1 :00 today.

Fucking be there.

Let's go.

The key-- the key
is to fill the time

you would use doing drugs
with something else.

Like busting McManus' ass
in basketball. Okay.

Well, activities
are good, but l mean,

that doesn't change
one basic fact, you know.

You're not going to quit
unless you want to quit.

You know, you have to hit rock bottom
before you can crawl out.

Why you looking at me
when you say that?

l wasn't saying it to you.
l was saying it to the group.

What? You-- you think
you're better than me

- because you-- you quit and l can't?
- Omar.

You ain't better than me,
you fucking punk-ass white boy!

lnstead of snorting,
you've been sucking cock!

- That's enough, Omar!
- You want to suck this, motherfucker?

Hey, hey,
hey, hey!

- You got nothing!
- You think l'm fucking here?

You got no game, Vahue.

What you gonna do, come over
and scratch me again?

l got you.
l got you, Chapman.

- You piece of shit.
- Poet's the greatest of all time!

Take care.

As a rule, l don't
give up on people,

but this guy, Omar,
may be the exception.

White!

l know.
l fucked up again.

- Mm-hmm.
- All the bullshit aside,

l want-- l want
to own my own mind.

Look,

l don't know why
l think l can help you,

but l'm not giving
up on you, Omar.

You understand?
l'm not giving up.

Thank you.

You fucking bastard!

l hope you die in here,
you motherfucking bastard!

l hope you rot in hell!

You killed my baby!

The parole board
has set the hearing for next Wednesday.

lf all goes
according to Hoyle,

Tobias, you could be
out of Oz by the end of the month.

Have Cathy Rockwell's parents been
made aware of the hearing?

Probably not.
ln most cases, it's the responsibility

of the victim or the victim's family
to stay informed.

Well, l want you
to tell them.

That's not advisable. lf they ask
to testify, Cathy's parents could

sway the board away
from paroling you.

Until my son was killed,
l never fully understood

what l'd done
to those two people.

l can't go back into the world knowing
that l snuck out.

The Rockwells are as much a part
of my prison term as anyone.

They have a right
to be heard.

Okay, l'll
phone them.

But first,
before the parole hearing,

l'm going to ask them to have
an interaction with you.

Catherine.

l hope you understand
why l'm doing this.

As a lawyer, l think
you're insane.

But as a mother...

l think you've got
balls for days.

Last time we saw each other,
Mrs. Rockwell,

l didn't say much.

- You didn't say anything.
- Yeah.

Well, that's because
l was on drugs

and l was confused,

full of self-loathing.

And now you've
forgiven yourself?

No.

What l did to your daughter
will shadow me forever,

just as being
in Oz will.

What's happened
to me in here--

well, whether l've suffered
enough to satisfy you

l don't know.

When you were sentenced
to 15 years,

l was stunned.

15 lousy years doesn't
equal the lifetime my daughter lost.

You say
you've suffered,

and l say
l'm glad.

When the lawyer came to talk
about my being paroled,

she said that because
of extenuating circumstances,

the board might
look kindly on me.

Why don't you explain
the circumstances?

Since l've
been inside,

my son
was murdered

and my wife
may have been,

both as a result
of things l did in here.

lt's ironic
that l came to Oz

walking across the grave
of your daughter

and l may leave
walking across

the graves
of my own family.

lf they had lived, l wouldn't have
the chance of going free.

When l saw you
four years ago,

the pain of Cathy's death
was still so new.

Dave and l...

grieved and grieved
and grieved.

We still do.

But the sorrow
is balanced with joy.

We have another child, Richard, and he's
growing up to be remarkable.

We've come to believe
that even though

we don't understand
why Cathy's gone

we accept her death
as part of some...

wise plan.

l don't know
if you've suffered enough.

That's not up to me
to decide.

Only God can.

We will not interfere
with your parole.

Vince Lombardi
once said

that winning isn't everything,
it's the only thing.

But the one thing Lombardi
held in higher regard

than winning
was character.

ln fact, without character,
there'd be no victory.

Now, don't get
me wrong.

Some of his players would
miss curfew, cat around, get jiggy,

but they always knew
where to draw the line.

That's right.

A good man knows
where to draw the line.

Robson, you are
one ugly motherfucker.

l don't see you
modeling in Milan, you black bitch.

Hey, shut the fuck up.
l'm trying to masturbate.

- Fuck you, Alvarez!
- Quiet!

- Warden's on deck.
- Yo.

Yo, Glynn. Yo, l need an appointment,
motherfucker.

Hey, Glynn,
you get me excited.

Why don't you
hold my dick?

We need
to talk alone.

- Did you frisk him?
- Yes, sir.

Okay.

You actually think
l'd shank you?

l have no idea what
you're capable of anymore.

l'm stunned.

l mean, here you are, a man feared
by all the prisoners in Oz,

- afraid of me. Wow.
- What do you want?

l've decided to confess
to the murder of John Basil,

and l intend to ask
for the death penalty.

So that you can die
a martyr.

l've written
a manifesto

l want published
the day l'm executed.

Where'd you get the paper?
Officer Smith!

Under no circumstances
is this prisoner to be allowed paper.

- Leo!
- You want to destroy yourself, fine.

But l'm not going to
make it easy for you.

Goddamn motherfucker!

Oh, don't go away,
Uncle Tom.

Don't go away.
Don't leave me like this, baby.

- Don't leave me like this.
- Warden!

Carl Jenkins is dead.
You've no case against me.

l want
out of here, Glynn.

l want out of here, Glynn!
l want out!

l want a fucking lawyer!
Get me fucking Said!

You motherfucker!
Get me out of here!

l don't want to release
Robson from solitary

anymore than you do,
but l got no choice.

Carl Jenkins
committed suicide.

A good defense attorney could shoot
holes through his testimony.

And without his testimony we got
no case against Robson.

So you're going to put him
back in the Gen Pop

even though he masterminded
the death of Salah Yudin

and he has vowed
to kill me, too?

l'm afraid so.
Since we can't prove Robson's guilt,

keeping him in solitary
would be unjust.

Now, why is it
that justice

only works in somebody
else's favor?

Arif, help me.

l have such rage
inside of me.

Rage unlike
l've ever known.

You've always been able
to control such emotions.

l don't think
l can do that much longer.

- l feel like l'm possessed.
- Pray to Allah.

Pray?

l pray and l pray
and nothing.

Yo, sorry about what happened
to Leroy Tidd,

or Ooga Booga or whatever
the fuck you call him.

- You fucking nigger!
- You want to see the nigger in me?

You want to see
the nigger in me?

Fucking spade.
Motherfucker.

Fucking cock--
motherfucker.

- Fucking nigger!
- The Aryans must be punished.

We will no longer
tolerate their actions.

From this moment on,
we are all on point.

Said's nigger ass
is in the hole.

- Looks like Arif's in charge.
- All right.

These fuckers are
more pissed off than ever.

l want you guys to watch
each other's back,

- carry weapons whenever you can.
- lt's payback time.

This shit's gonna
go down real soon.

What the fuck
is this all about?

Father Mukada
loaned me his office.

The warden wants me
to speak with you.

He fears that there
will be an escalation of hostilities

between your people
and the Muslims.

Sit down,
please.

The hacks have good reason
to fear, Preacher.

So do you.

You feel that l have
wronged you

by getting Carl Jenkins
to testify against Robson,

but l assure you what l did,
l did in the name of justice.

No, what you did you did
because Robson got pissed

when you tried to turn me
into a psalm singer.

Oh, l never imagined
that you would convert.

l simply wanted you
to know a little joy in your life,

the birth
of your grandchild.

Yeah, if she is
my grandchild.

You ever talk to that woman
in your congregation?

Sarah? Yes.

She and Carrie have had
numerous conversations,

and at no time did Carrie say anything
about having been a prostitute.

Sarah ask her directly?

No.

Well, then you've proved
nothing either way.

When are you going to
see this girl again?

ln an hour.

Unless the warden puts
the entire prison in lockdown.

lf l could assure him that
at least for the time being

there will be
no immediate trouble,

maybe Warden Glynn
will reconsider.

You've got
yourself a deal.

Hi, Mr. Schillinger.

Ooh, what happened
to your face?

Oh, nothing.
lt's fine.

There we are,
all nice and dry.

Hey, you ready to play
with Grandpa? Huh?

- That's okay.
- Something wrong?

l'm gonna ask you
some serious questions,

and l want you
to talk true.

- Okay.
- Put the baby down.

lt's okay.

lt's okay, Jewel.

- Oh, sweetie.
- lt's come to my attention

that you worked
the streets, hooking.

l can see it's true.

- Hank said we needed money.
- l don't want to hear that part.

What's important is
who's child is that?

She's not Hank's, is she? You knew that
the day you showed up here!

Mr. Schillinger, l swear when the doctor
told me l was pregnant,

l counted backwards trying to figure
out who the father was.

On the day the baby
was conceived,

l had sex with three
different men, okay?

Two out-of-town salesmen
and Hank.

So the truth is l don't know
which one was the father.

l'm not sure...

except--
stare at her face.

Don't she look
like Hank?

Don't she?

lt's okay.

Okay, Cloutier's gotten Schillinger
to agree not to retaliate,

so he's gonna keep
his boy Robson in check.

l need your assurance
that the Muslims will cooperate.

- No.
- No? No what? You won't cooperate?

No, l can't assure
you of anything, McManus,

least of all the good behavior
of my people or myself.

Because, you see,
what's been going on has been going on

and will go on till long after you, me
and Schillinger are all dead.

- My only concern is right now.
- Well, that's not surprising

because you always did
take the short view.

Well, maybe you need another
couple of days in here.

- Yeah, maybe l do!
- Up to you.

Go ahead, get out!

lf athletes learned to control
their tempers, to control their rage,

then hockey players wouldn't
do time in the penalty box,

basketball players wouldn't
draw technical fouls,

football players wouldn't
be penalized 15 yards.

Of course, if athletes
did control their rage,

nobody would be
interested in sports.

The punching, choking,
kicking, biting, screaming--

that's what the fans
go to see.

Oh, shit.

What are you doing?

lt's 7:00 a.m. Game two's
not till this afternoon.

Yeah. l wanted
to work on my shot.

l'm still haunted by those fucking air
balls l threw up last game.

Don't beat yourself up. l mean,
l couldn't get much going, either.

Yeah.

What do you think
of Vahue?

The guy's a stone bitch.

A strong, tough,
talented player.

That's funny. That's what
l said about you.

- Huh?
- Well, maybe not in those exact words.

A friend of mine is a scout
with the Sacramento Kings.

l told him about you.
He says he wants to take a look.

- A look?
- Yeah, today.

Hey, yo, you got
two dunks off the bat,

l was like, ''Oh shit,
the fat lady's singing.''

Hey, yo, man, seconds.

- And... special stash.
- Oh, shit.

All right?

Hey, yo, man,
this guy Brass, man,

- he's some fucking talent, huh?
- Yeah.

- Oh, fuck that.
- Uh-uh, that motherfucker can play.

- l'm too big for him, though.
- Yeah, yeah.

You know game two
gonna go like game one.

lt'll stay close...

as long as l let it.

- Are you hearing this?
- Yeah, it's true.

Vahue's a wide body.
There's no way to guard him.

There's no way for McManus
and Brass to win.

Hey, Vahue.

Go back
and get your tray.

- Oh, l got that.
- Oh, no, no, no.

He busses his own tray.

Yo, fuck that.

- Oh, shit!
- Back the fuck up!

Back the fuck up!
Back the fuck up!

- What the fuck is that? Come on, man?
- Damn! You broke my knee.

Well, say something.

Vahue brought the situation
on himself.

We were
by the book, McManus.

All right, let me know
if it's too tight.

- ls it my ACL?
- No, your ACL is fine.

lt's just your knee's badly swollen.
You should stay off it a few days.

We'll push the game
back a week.

- Oh, because you care about me, right?
- No.

- l just want your best game.
- Oh, you still think you're gonna win?

Like l said, the ball bounces
the right way, who knows?

You're telling me
l ain't got any damage?

None that l can see.

Then l'm going to
see you in the gym then.

Tell your boy
bring his A game, too.

?? People always talkin'
what they gonna do ??

?? They must want their face
to maybe taste my shoe ??

?? l can't understand
all the push and shove ??

?? And what the -- happened
to the peace and love? ??

?? Who planted that glove?
Man, l don't care ??

?? l'm too busy running fingers
through your momma's hair ??

?? l got no time
for the fakes and phonies ??

?? The crooks, the creeps,
the cops and the cronies ??

?? Am l the only one
on my side? ??

?? Test my pride,
l bet you run and hide ??

?? You think l'm weak,
so you're looking for the kill ??

?? But there's 16 shots
in my nine mil ??

?? l got one for you,
this is your shot... ??

Yeah!

?? l got one for you,
this is your shot ??

?? Jimmy Jimmy,
Ji-- ah, Jimmy, Jimmy ??

?? Don't want to hear me cuss,
don't want to hear me brag ??

?? So l'm grabbin' on my thingy
while l let my pants sag ??

?? Never think what l've written,
just write what l'm doin' ??

?? They say they like my records,
but they still boo-hooing ??

?? My jeans always tight,
my rhymes will floor you ??

?? Hey slime, you want
to hit money? ??

?? l got one for you,
this is your shot... ??

?? l got one for you ??

- ?? This is your shot ??
- Bullshit!

?? l like that. ??

Hey, Vahue.

Yeah, not.

You fucking
let us down, Vahue.

l had a lot of money bet
on that game, cocksucker.

Tug, let me
get the chair.

No, man, l'm using it.

No, for real, dude.
l need to sit down

and elevate this leg, man.
Come on.

- Yo, l'm out, babe.
- l'm with you.

Hey, yo, Poet.
Hey, man, at dinner,

how about l get some
more of that Gatorade?

l don't know, Jackson.
l don't know.

l'm dehydrated, man.
l lost a lot of water today.

l'll see what l can do,
but it's a tall order.

Look, it's simple.

ln three weeks, l want you to come out
to our rookie camp.

- Oh, Jesus.
- No guarantees,

- but l think you can make our club.
- Congratulations.

l got to go. Somebody from player
personnel will contact you.

And one last thing. l don't want to tell
you not to play pick-up games,

this thing you
and Tim got going,

but use your head.
All right?

All right.
Stay strong.

- l'll still play.
- l can't ask you to do that.

- l know you want to win that last game.
- l'll find someone else.

- Tim--
- l'll find someone.

Fuck.

There he goes now,
the luckiest man on the planet.

- Lucky?
- Correction: formerly lucky.

The word's out,
McManus.

That scout today came
to scoop up your boy.

- He's on his way to the Kings.
- Mm-hmm.

And without Brass, you're gonna look
pretty fucking foolish.

l bet you'd lose
by... 50, 60 points.

Well, who says
l'm without him?

l thought Dave Brass
wasn't playing.

- He's not.
- So what was that all about?

l couldn't stomach giving
Morales the satisfaction.

He'll get it soon enough.

- Hey, Martinez. Hey.
- Hola, mi hermano.

- Warden still got you over in Unit B?
- Yeah.

- Excellent. l need an ask.
- Ask.

Easy, easy, easy!

Stay down! All right, all right!
Easy, easy! God damn it!

- Where's Brass?
- The ambulance just left.

- He needed surgery.
- Oh, fuck! How bad was he?

On the big scale of things,
he's going to be just fine.

- But?
- But Dave's done with basketball.

His Achilles tendon
wasn't just severed,

a chunk of it
was missing.

He'll be walking funny
the rest of his life.

What you want?

How does it feel?

How does what feel?

Being the one
who snitched to the hacks,

who kept us
from greasing Morales,

Pancamo
and the rest,

who kept us from taking
over the drug trade?

No, no, no, no. Come here,
come here, come here.

Listen...

Burr Redding
says you get to live

because you and he
got history.

But he ain't going
to be around forever, bro'.

And when he die...
you die.

- Let the man go, son.
- Oh, you want something?

- What's up, nigger?
- You know, as much as l'd like to watch

the two of you whack each other,
the smart thing to do is walk away.

- Yeah. Later.
- You know it.

This is all
l'm saying, Augustus.

You ain't got
no friends except me.

The plan's working?

Yeah.

Morales and Pancamo
think l'm their slave.

Burr Redding thinks
l'm his most loyal soldier.

When we're done,
they'll all be dead.

and we'll be
running things our way.

l have
to admit, Tug,

l was kind of surprised
when you tapped my shoulder,

me being the one who greased
your brother and all.

When l shanked you
and you didn't die,

l knew you
had balls.

lt doesn't take
a genius

to figure out
that Tug Daniels is a traitor.

l always had
my suspicions.

What are you gonna do
about him?

Well, l believe that every man deserves
a fair trial...

before he's
executed.

This court is
now in session.

- Fuck you!
- Tug Daniels...

you're being
accused of the three disses:

disloyal, dishonest,

- disrespectful.
- How do you plead?

Man, if y'all
going to take me out,

just fucking
take me out, man.

Stop the bullshit,
all right?

You've been seen fraternizing
with Supreme Allah.

Yo, l only let that fool
think l was with him, man.

Soon as l killed you,
him and Hill was dead meat.

The prosecution rests.

- You got any defense?
- Yeah, l got a defense.

You're killing me
for the same crime

you let Hill walk on.

You're getting old, Burr.
You're getting soft.

- You can't go the distance no more.
- Silence.

Yo, with me in charge, you motherfuckers
would be running Oz.

Pay attention to what
l'm fixing to tell you.

lt is the decision
of this court

that you have been
found guilty.

- Man, kill this old pussy, not me!
- Therefore...

l must sentence you...

...to death.

Throw his ass back there
behind the cafeteria.

Stick him
in a garbage dumpster.

Move it!

What the fuck?

Oh, shit.

Hey, Officer Robinson.

Yo, you might want to come check
this out. Ouch!

Central, this is 16.
We've got a 44 in the cafeteria.

Lockdown! Lockdown!

Tug Daniels is dead.

Move it. Move it!

Our days
are numbered, bro'.

Me and you
ain't careful,

we're going to end up
like Tug Daniels.

Let's go. Let's go!

More and more these days,
you pick up a newspaper

and some athlete's name
is in the headline.

Not on the sports page,

but for getting into trouble
with the law.

l'm never surprised.

The adrenaline it takes
to be a superstar

is the same as the rush
you feel committing a crime.

When the game's over,
it's hard to put a cap on that,

hard to go back
to being ordinary.

l am so sick of hearing
about fucking death row.

- Governor.
- l see you're fully recovered.

And l can see how
much that pleases you.

All right,
let's get down to business.

l've had extensive talks with
the Attorney General,

and here's how
the situation lays out.

According to the law,

Giles is within his rights
asking to be stoned to death.

The fucking anti-death penalty
group that's suing us

will probably win.
We'll appeal.

The case will eventually land
at the State Supreme Court,

where God knows what those
buttheads will decide.

You appointed
half of them.

Thanks for reminding me.
So...

instead of plodding
through all that muck,

we've decided that it's simpler if you,
Sister Peter Marie,

declare Giles
mentally incompetent.

- What?
- l'll commute his sentence to life

and we'll ship his ass over
to the Conley lnstitute

where he can blubber
until he dies.

Meanwhile, l'll have
the legislature rewrite

the capital punishment law

limiting
the prisoner's options

to lethal injection
and electrocution.

l won't do it.

l won't say that William Giles
is insane.

- Why?
- Because he's not.

Leo...

now would be
a good time for you to jump in.

Peter Marie, this solution would make
the problem go away.

The problem will
go away

when the death penalty
goes away.

Now that there's DNA,
every other week--

every other week--
there's another horror story

of some innocent man
almost being put to death.

The governor of lllinois

- has put a moratorium on--
- George Ryan is an asshole.

And if l want
to debate this issue,

l'll go on
''Meet the Fucking Press''!

You're not the only
shrink in town, Sister.

lf you won't say he's crazy,
l'll get someone who will.

Hello, William.

Peter.
Peter Marie.

- How you doing?
- Moses...

...dead.

Lonely.

l'll bet.

You know, it's lonely
out here, too.

Your life
and the lives of hundreds

of other men and women
in the hands of lawyers and politicians.

l feel so...

powerless.

Noisemaker.

Yeah, that's me.

Blowing horns
and banging pots,

and yet,
nothing has changed.

Us.

Pray.

God.

Well, we do have that,
don't we?

Yes, William.

Us.

Pray.

God.

The State Supreme Court,
in a 5-4 decision,

declared the four-year-old
capital punishment law

to be unconstitutional
based on the case of an inmate

at the Oswald Correctional Facility
who asked to be stoned to death.

The justices declared
such an execution

would be cruel and unusual punishment,
well outside the boundaries--

My support for the death
penalty is unwavering.

However, the public's reaction
to this incident

indicates that we should
take this opportunity

to step back.

We must consider
not only the means

by which we determine
such a sentence,

but the ways
in which we implement it.

l am therefore
putting together

a non-partisan committee...

to re-examine all aspects
of the death penalty.

Hey, Giles,
what's going on?

l thought you were
halfway to death.

No, alive.
Alive!

Alive?

Hey, Officer Murphy,
l'm not feeling so hot.

- What's the matter now?
- Throat's sore.

Jeez, you know,
you been getting sick a lot lately.

This winter weather,
it's killing me.

Uh-huh.

Well, l got news for you.

- Dr. Nathan's not in today.
- No?

How do you feel now?

l want to go see my brother
in protective custody.

What a shock.

ln my opinion, calling someone
a ''deadbeat dad'' is unfair.

l mean, l would have sent
the money to my kids,

but l knew that bitch would spend
my hard-earned cash

buying clothes for herself or that cocky
kike asshole she's been living with.

Ryan!

Hey, Cyril.
How you doing, brother?

You okay?

When-- when can
l leave here?

- When can l come back to Emerald City?
- l don't know.

Dr. Nathan promised that she'd help
us out, but she's gone,

so as soon as she gets back, we're going
to work on getting you out of here.

God, this place sucks, man.
l know you're lonely.

Not so lonely...

now that Henry's here.

Hi, my name's Stanton,

Henry Stanton.
You're Ryan, right?

Cyril's told me
all about you.

- What'd you say?
- Oh, nothing incriminating.

Well, that's good,
you know,

'cause l figure a guy's
in protective custody,

then well, he must have--
what, ratted out his friends?

No. No, some
Aryan threatened

to separate me
from my genitals,

so the warden thought a time-out
might ease the tensions.

Don't be telling nobody
our business, okay?

l don't.
Henry's nice.

- l like your brother.
- Hey!

Henry, do you mind?

l'm trying to have
a private conversation over here.

Hey, knock
yourself out!

Oh, Jesus.

- What do you want?
- Just because we're not fucking anymore

- doesn't mean we can't be friends.
- Yeah, right.

l hear they're shipping
your brother off to the loony bin.

Yeah, because of you accusing him
of attacking you without provocation.

l was being neighborly,
he hit me with a tray.

Neighborly?

- Yeah, right.
- Here's a deal.

l'll tell the warden
not to send Cyril away

if you tell Cyril

he should
let me fuck him.

What?

- l want to fuck your brother.
- Uh-uh. No chance.

l don't want you going
anywhere near my brother.

Okay, but if l don't
get anywhere near him,

you won't get
anywhere near him, either.

You know what, Howell?

You're one sick,
fucking bitch.

Deputy Dawg.

O'Reily.

lt's about time.
l'm famished.

Things are pretty quiet
here in J these days, huh, man?

Well, Basil dead,
Hughes in solitary,

it's just me
and ''Her Highness.''

You don't like Howell?

lt's like being shackled
to the Bride of Frankenstein.

Hey, Alvin,
old pal,

how'd you like
some extra vittles?

We're talking
chocolate bars,

''Newman's Own'' popcorn
for that microwave of yours?

- Sure.
- All you have to do is just, you know,

make sure Howell
has a little accident.

- Oh, l'm no killer.
- No, no, no.

l'm not saying kill.

l'm talking a--
a busted leg, arm.

Just something to take her out
of commission for a week or two.

You about done, O'Reily?

Oh, yeah.
l'm done.

Maybe l got lucky
and she's dead.

Help.

Help.

Help!

Help!
Help!

- What's up?
- Howell broke her pelvis.

- Oh, sweet.
- Yeah, she'll be laid up for a while.

Oh, l'm just crying
invisible tears.

How's your new cellmate?

Oh, Connolly's an ass.
He says l'm not true lrish.

He tried to pull that
same last shit with me.

- Don't worry, he'll come around.
- Yeah.

Hey, Liam... check out a guy
named Henry Stanton.

- He's in protective custody with Cyril.
- No problem.

Stay down.

Stay down.

Hey! What the fuck
is going on here?

Keep away, O'Reily.
This is none of your concern.

l see two pussy Bible Belters wailing
on a fellow Catholic?

Yeah, it's my concern.

Hey, come on,
motherfucker.

l'm not going to swing
on you, Burns. Not yet.

l've got God
on my side.

Kirk, you meet me
in the library.

Burns, l will talk
to you later.

My apologies, sir.

l'm beholden to you.

First, you had
Samuel Gougeon beaten,

now Padraig Connolly,
both against my wishes.

l am doing the Lord's work
in the best way l know how.

When you came to me
and you asked to convert,

l thought you meant you wanted
to put those ways behind you,

but l can see now
that l was wrong.

You are no longer a member
of my congregation.

- What?
- l cast thee out.

- You can't.
- Let me go.

- Please.
- Let me go!

ln 1972, 14 Catholics
were slaughtered.

What did they do?

They committed the hideous crime
of walking down a road.

My mother ran out
onto the street

and grabbed the neighbor's
son out of the stampede.

The entire time...

a British soldier
was holding an L1A1 to her head,

yelling at her
to get back.

But she didn't...

and he fired.

Oh, shit.

We call that day
''Bloody Sunday.''

lt's visiting time.
l got to go.

- Who's coming?
- My mom.

You treat your
mother right, Ryan?

We've been separated
since l was a baby.

We only
just found each other.

But yeah,
l treat her right.

l know you wonder
why l left,

and each time l've come to visit you,
l've wanted to tell you the whole story.

Hey, tell me now.

The '60s were
a mixed-up time.

We were living in a coldwater flat
near the university.

And while l did what wives
did in those days,

outside, the streets were
on fire with protests.

- The Vietnam war.
- l would carry you out into the crowd

and listen to the speeches,
and then one day,

something just clicked,
and l had to join.

So l--
l had to leave.

Yeah, but why did-- why didn't you
take me with you?

Well, because my friends
fought for peace.

We armed ourselves.
We were militant.

- And someone got killed.
- Yeah.

- And l ran, and l kept running.
- Jesus.

So now after 35 years,
l've decided to stop the marathon.

l'm gonna
turn myself in.

- But what'll ha--
- l don't know what'll happen to me,

and l don't know
if l'll go to prison.

But l wanted
to see you again

and spend a few hours
with you

and get to know you a little before
whatever happens does happen.

No. No.

No, no,
l can't lose you now.

Not after
all these years.

Fuck that.

- Don't give yourself up.
- l have to, Ryan.

l'm no good to you
unless l'm true to who l am.

Fuck.

Look...

l wasn't going
to tell you this,

at least not yet.

What if l told you
l could fix it

so we could be together?

What do you mean?

A friend of mine
is going to help me and Cyril escape.

No, Ryan,
don't do that.

- Why the fuck not?
- Because...

you'll have to spend the rest
of your life doing what l've done,

hiding and lying
and living in fear...

and denying
who you are.

And that's a life
without meaning.

And a life without meaning
is no life at all.

Visit's over, O'Reily.

Mom.

You called me Mom.

l love you, Ryan.

l always have,
and l always will.

- Goodbye.
- Bye.

Bad news.

The Attorney General
has circumvented the law of asylum.

You're saying
we've lost the fight?

Your deportation
has been ordered.

A week from today, you'll be standing
before a British judge.

Once l get there,
l'll not get a fair trial. l'll hang.

l know.

You admit to murdering him
even though you know

l could tell the warden
that you confessed,

and you'd probably end up
on death row.

Yes.

- Hey.
- Hey.

How's Cyril?

Oh, he's a little anxious to get out
of protective custody,

but he's okay.

Hey, did you--

did you give any more thought
to what we talked about?

Any thought? Your little proposition
had me sleepless for three nights.

And what have
you decided?

Here.

Why are you
giving me this?

10 minutes ago,
the warden asked me

if l knew anything
about Keenan's death.

- What?
- l lied and said no.

Oh, man.
Thank, Christ.

Ryan, as we speak,
the medical board is deliberating

whether or not l'm qualified
to hold this job.

They're questioning
my ethics, okay?

My initial reaction was,
''How can they do that?''

But...

you know what?

Now l'm questioning
my ethics.

Now look.

Love is more important
than ethics.

Well, now how would
you know that?

l mean, your ethics,
what few you have,

are completely
screwed up.

Whoa. Why the fuck
are you doing this?

l should tell Leo
that you beat Keenan to death.

l should do it...

but l won't.
God help me.

- Hey, Gloria--
- And l am not going to help you escape.

Do you
understand that?

l will not do it.

And if you
ask me again,

l will tell
the warden everything.

Officer,
we're done here.

l do have ethics,

and l'm not screwed up.

What do you want?

l've been on the computer
reading about the troubles.

lt's not at all about God.

lt's about the money.

lt's about the--
the Protestants taking Catholic land.

How could you not
hate the British?

l mean, if you've got any balls at all,
then you'd better be lRA

You know, fighting for what's
rightfully yours.

And what good does
your newfound knowledge

and all this enthusiasm
do for either of us?

l want to be part of something,
something that matters.

Don't laugh at me,
Connolly.

Hey, everyone knows
l get things done.

That's my talent.

Let me help you do
something for the cause.

Hmm?
Something for lreland?

All righty.

l know what
we should do.

Hey.

- Two gallons of bleach.
- Good.

All your whites
are clean,

so are you going to tell me now
why you needed this stuff so bad?

No. Can you get me
a wristwatch?

A wristwatch?
Why?

Connolly, what the fuck
are you doing?

Would you be willing
to die with me?

Would you?

The bleach and the wristwatch
are part of my grand scheme.

- Which is what?
- To make a bomb.

You and me, O'Reily,

we're going to blow up
Emerald City.

ln any sport,
to experience victory,

the one element you
need more than any other...

is teamwork.

But teamwork is also the
scariest notion

a person can face.

Joining a team means giving up
part of your individuality,

being willing to make
whatever sacrifice

is necessary
for the greater cause.

lf you're willing
to do these things,

to truly become
a team player,

then success
will follow.

But a word
of caution:

Be sure that the success
you go after...

is the success you need.