All language subtitles for Oz.S01E07.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP2.0.H.264-Pawel2006_track3_eng

[TV static drones]

[bright tone]

[tense, jazzy music]

♪ ♪

- "The best laid schemes of mice
and men most often go astray."

That was written by
Mr. Robert Burns

way the fuck back in 1785,
and it still is news.

In Oz, we got
all sorts of schemes

to change our
lousy, lonely lives,

but no matter how much
we plot and plan,

something outside
our control

always comes along
and fucks things up.

You take Tobias Beecher--

six months ago,
if you'd have asked him

where he planned to be today,

he'd have said at his daughter's
fourth birthday party.

Instead he's howling
at the moon,

thanks to some bad angel dust.
- [screaming]

- Old Vern Schillinger--
before he got to Oz,

he wanted to get America
back on the right track,

the white track.

Now Beecher smashed a piece of
glass in his pure Aryan eye.

[intense, percussive music]

Timmy McManus--
he's slowly watching

as his dreams for the perfect
prison fart away.

And then there's
the Reverend Kareem Said.

He was working on a way
to bring the brothers together,

to fight the injustices we
endure in the name of justice.

He was working it
and working it,

till a heart attack
worked him over.

- Huseni Mershah,

this is Kareem Said.

- Maybe Allah sent me
to remind you. Hm?

- Sit down.

Help--help me!

- You must go ahead and die.

[straining, groaning]

Ahh! Ahh!

Male announcer: Black Muslim
leader Kareem Said

remains in critical condition

at Oswald State Penitentiary

after a heart attack
last Thursday.

Said--who is serving
five to 18 years

for burning a
white-owned warehouse--

is an outspoken critic of the
American judicial system.

- Oh, man, it's almost
as if he knew.

Man, like, right before
the heart attack,

Said said to me,
he said, "Huseni,

"if anything should happen,

"I want you to gather up
the true believers

"and carry out my work,
carry out my mission.

"Start a holy war
right here in Oz.

A war that will
set fire on the sky."

He said, "Tell them,
my brother, and guide them."

[exhales] Man.

- Hey, hey, look
who's alive.

You know, Said,
I gotta tell you,

odds were 60-40
you were worm's meat.

Yo, Groves,
go get Dr. Nathan

and tell her Said
finally woke up.

Yo, you're gonna
pull something out, man.

- Said, you shouldn't
be doing that.

- Stupid nigger.

- Groves--groves,
get a doctor!

- You...

get my clothes.

Now.

- Again.

- I'm telling you,
I'm perfectly well.

- You had a heart attack.
You nearly died.

- But I didn't, did I?
Excuse me.

- Yeah, this time
you were lucky.

What if it
happens again?

- Well, believe me, Doctor,

I now know what I must do
to keep alive.

McManus, I'm ready
to go back to Em City.

- Okay, but you have to
start taking the medicine

Dr. Nathan prescribed.

Agreed?

- Agreed.

I know. This way.

- People do terrible things
to people.

That's why we got so many
prisons in the world.

People rape other people,

they rob and beat
and cheat other people.

But the worst crime of all
is betrayal.

And there ain't no
jail terms for that.

- Huseni Mershah!

- Praise Allah, praise Allah.

- You saw that I was dying,
and yet, you walked away?

You wanted me to die.

- No Kareem, come on, bro.

I would never want you--
- No!

This man is not our brother
he is our enemy.

As of this moment,
this man is cast out!

No Muslim will speak to him,

look him in the eye
or acknowledge him.

You wanted the
death of another?

Right now you're
dead to us all.

- Kidnapped the president's wife
without a plan.

Kidnapped the president's
wife without a plan.

Yeah, I got a plan.

It's etched with a knife
in the center of my hand.

So I guess I'm going to have
to keep my fist clenched,

walk around D.C. in the rain
till my 'wears is drenched,

wait for that motherfucker
to take out the garbage

and do a press conference about
what great shape this country in

and when them welfare cuts
going to begin.

When he pat his dog
and kiss his wife goodbye,

that's when I move in.

I throw that silly ho
in a headlock.

I muffle her grill
so her screams stop.

I whisper to her,
"Your man ain't here

to protect you, baby, he gone!"

I dial up my nigga O-North

tell him meet me with the Caddy
on the white lawn.

I toss her in the backseat,

I cover her head
with a black sheet,

put the steel of a grill piece,
be like, "If you don't shut up,

"I'ma let two shots off
in your dome piece,

watch you have fits!"

If she don't understand,
I'ma give her the quick

lesson in Ebonics.

"I'm gonna
shoot you, baby."

I take her to my hideout

in the low-income houses
down the street.

I replace her Joan and Davids
with purple Reeboks on her feet.

I give her four hungry kids,
no job, no ambition,

no family support and
a last welfare check.

I give her crappy-ass Medicaid
and an ill type of growth

growing out the side
of her neck.

I tell her,
"Fend for yourself.

Keep you and them shorties
in proper health."

Then, after sufficient time
on that hype,

I'll introduce her
to the-- [inhales sharply]

Crack pipe!

Yeah. I'll let her feel
its soothing effects

as she tries to forget about
the absence of them checks.

I'll make her sell
her jewels for it.

I'll make her
pay her dues for it.

And then I'll come to her
late at night-- [smacking]

And I'll be like,
"Yo, everything ain't

"gonna be all right.

"You ain't going to be able to
go quietly in that good night.

Peace ain't going to come till
your death be done."

And then I'll lead her
up to the roof, ha.

And I'll show her
all the shit she don't own.

I'll lead her
over to the edge.

And leave her there all alone.

[crowd murmuring]

[laughter]
- You can sit at my table, boy.

- Yo. Yo, yo, want to
play that two-on-two? Huh?

Wanna give
that two-on-two?

- Got it, got it, got it.

- Huh? Can I get a ball?
Can I get the ball?

I can't get the ball?

Why don't you
throw me the ball, man?

Arif, you want to
rock some ball, man?

Want to play
some hoop, huh?

Huh, no?
Hoop, man.

- In the name of Allah,
most gracious--

Oh, man, why you gonna do me
like this now? Come on.

- He is Allah,
the one and only.

- Come on, you know I would
never say that

I wanted Said dead.
- Allah the eternal, absolute.

He begets not...
- He's crazy, you know.

- ...Nor is he begotten.

- No, the medication
gone to his head.

- And there are
none like unto him.

In the name of Allah,
most gracious and most merciful.

- Yo, Said, Said.

Don't fall asleep brother,
you might not wake up.

- [muttering]
- Adebisi, Adebisi.

Adebisi, yo, my
African brother.

How you doing?
I gotta talk to you.

- You and me?
- Yeah.

- Talk about what?

- Uh, it's about Said.

Man, you know he's
responsible

for the death of
Jefferson Keane.

- Jefferson Keane?
Ancient history, baby.

- Look, Said,
he got to die.

- [sighs]

I know what's
going on, holy boy.

And I know they
turned their backs on you.

Now, you think
because we have

the same color skin--yeah--

there's some connection?

Go, go, little man. Go.
[grunting]

Try the man next door.

- I'm telling you, Said wanna
start a riot up in here.

He wanna take over Oz.

- Do you have
any evidence?

- No, just what
he told me.

- We need something
more tangible.

Has there been any
stockpiling of weapons?

- Just the usual jobs, homemade.

- Mershah, why are
you doing this?

Why are you giving up Said?

- I wanna stop the violence.

- That is bullshit.
- McManus!

- Leo, you know as well
as I do why he's here!

You're so fucking transparent,
it's laughable!

Officer,

get him the fuck
out of here.

- Oh, look, look, look,
no wait.

I'm telling you, man.
- Out!

[talking over each other]
Get out!

- His motive for betraying Said
isn't important.

His information is.

- Leo, we're not gonna
get anything out of him.

He's clearly
out of the loop.

I want to move him
to another cellblock.

- Why?
- Because I don't want

the bad blood that's happening
between him and Said

to erupt into
something bigger.

He's out!

- All right.

When was the last shakedown
you had in Em City?

- A couple of weeks ago.

- Well, I think it's
time for another.

- Shakedown.
[alarm buzzing]

[indistinct]

[indistinct chatter]

- Fuck you, skid.
Man, get off me.

- What do you got
in your pockets?

- Shut the fuck up.
- Put it in the bag.

- Look what I have.

- Ah! Ah!

- Gentlemen, I can't
put you all in the Hole

because the Hole
is full right now.

And I can't transfer
you out of Emerald City

because all the cells in Oz
happen to be full, too.

But what I can do is
take away your privileges.

No TV, no gym, no phone calls
for one month.

- Gee, Dad, I hope I can
still make it to the prom.

[laughter]
- Two months!

You happy, Alvarez?
That's all.

[indistinct chatter]

You know,

looks like everybody
but Said has a weapon.

- Oh, he ain't stupid.

- Yo, who was the rat?

- I hear it's Mershah.

[man singing Muslim prayer]

- You know something?

Kareem, you're supposed
to be an Iman,

a teacher,

and all you taught me
was that your God

is full of
hate and vengeance.

So you better
watch out, okay?

'Cause he could turn on you,
just like he turned on me.

[indistinct chatter]

- You wanna kill a man?

Stick a shank in his chest.
[spitting]

You wanna torture a man,

feed his loneliness.

Fiending for friendship,
for peace,

he will search everywhere.

And when he realizes
that he won't find it,

he will destroy himself.

- I have asked you here
because I'm a worried man.

The death of Huseni Mershah
is yet another example of

of the brutality that
we suffer here.

- But his death
was a suicide.

- That is what the
authorities have claimed,

but what I know is,
six men have died

under bizarre circumstances.

Suffocation, fire, mutilation.

And the list continues on.

And Warden Glynn sits
in his office, aloof.

Now, the FBI was brought in
to do an investigation,

but where is
their report?

- Are you saying it's
been repressed?

- I don't know.

I asked the question in the hope
that you, the press,

can find out.

'cause we prisoners
of Oz, I believe,

will sit here waiting for
answers that never come.

- The FBI investigation
into the deaths

at Oswald State Penitentiary
is ongoing.

We're not about to rush it
just to satisfy

the media or the inmates.

We intend to do our work
thoroughly and completely.

- Your little television show
got everybody's attention.

But I'm afraid that was
your last performance.

I'm ordering
a press blackout.

- Warden, can't you see?

Now, why is blackout
a big, bad thing?

You can get White-Out
in a little bottle.

- Don't be smug.
Don't you be smug with me,

you son-of-a-bitch.

From the first day
you got here,

you have tried to destroy
everything that I built

and everything
that I stand for.

- Oh, that is pride!

[sighs]
I know that well.

McManus, you've given yourself
far too much importance.

You see, because this thing
is larger than you.

It's larger than me.

So go ahead,
take the media away.

Give us a blackout.

Censor our letters,
tape our mouths shut.

There will always be
a man to tell the truth.

The truth will be heard.

May I go now?

'Cause it is time
for me to pray.

[singing Muslim prayer]

[bell rings]
- Listen up.

Here are some new rules
from the Warden.

"As of today, no inmate will be
allowed to use prayer beads,

"prayer mats or special oils for
religious or other purposes.

"Inmates will no longer be
allowed to wear

"similar clothing
or head apparel

identifying them as a member
of any group, gang or cult."

- Whoa, whoa!

No, no!

Now, you do realize this is
a violation of our right

to freely practice
our religion.

- You can practice
all you want.

Pray till the
cows come home.

The Constitution does not
guarantee that you,

as a prisoner
have the right to any stuff.

- Easy!

- You're going to
have to hand it over.

Look, this can go
one of two ways.

I vote for no blood.

- This is a meaningless
gesture, brothers.

Our faith is not in kufis,
beads or mats.

It is in our hearts.

- All right, let's go.
- All right, everyone,

can I have your attention,
please?

I've got some news
for you all.

The FBI report will
be released today,

and it will
state emphatically

that Sanchez, Ortolani,

Post, Martinez
and Markstrom

were all killed
by inmates.

[booing and yelling]

Quiet down!

The death of Huseni Mershah
has been ruled a suicide.

[all banging]

Stop it!

Though it is likely that
some correctional officers

may have been involved...

in a secondary manner
with some of the murders.

Knock it off!

People, if you
don't knock it off,

I'm not gonna be able to finish.

[banging continues]

Fine.

[cheering]

- When you stand up,
look in the mirror

and say, like Solomon,
"I am black, but I am humbly--

- [sharp whistling]
- Come on, let's go.

- Go, go, go.

- Mr. Said...

- Hmm?

- I just wanted to
tell you that

the whole thing
with the spoons,

the whole Allah thing,
it's awesome.

The salami, I like him.

- So what's up?

You turning Muslim on me?

- Hm?

He's a great speaker,
that Said.

He says our lives are crap
because of Glynn and McManus

and the rest.

Said says that Glynn's
guilty of worse crimes

than any of us
have committed.

You ever kill anybody?

- Mm-mm. No, I ain't
done nothing.

[sighs] I got a bum rap,
you know?

I'm inn-o-cent.

- I thought it'd be hard
to murder my parents,

but it wasn't.
- Hey, how'd you whack 'em?

- Ah, Ball-peen hammer.

- Prisoner #97G414,
Donald Groves.

Convicted July 3rd, '97,
two counts,

murder in
the first-degree.

Sentence: life imprisonment.

I think I should
kill Warden Glynn.

- What?

- I think I ought to
kill Glynn.

- [chuckles]
All right, look, this is what

you should do, all right?

You know that chick,
Dr. Nathan, all right?

You go to her and you tell her
to write you a prescription.

I'm telling you, she's got me
on these anti-depressants

right now and I'm like--

I'm sailing, man.

- No.

My first idea is best.

Next chance I get,
I'll murder Glynn.

- Look out!
- Oh!

- Ohh! Oh!

[gavel banging]

- Donald Groves,
convicted August 21st, '97,

murder in the first degree
in the death

of corrections officer
Lawrence Smith.

Sentence: death.

This is a genocide.

Killing murderers
is genocide.

- Groves?

- They beat me.
- Who?

Groves, you have been
condemned to die

for the murder
of Officer Smith.

The State gives you
the right to choose

any method you wish to die.

- I shouldn't even be
talking to you.

You should be dead.

You were the one
that was supposed to die.

- How do you
want to die, Groves?

Lethal injection,
electric chair?

- Firing squad.

- Firing squad?

- Isn't that what they
do to assassins?

- Fine.

I'm going to personally paint
the target on your heart.

- Warden,

Warden...

Me killing you
wasn't personal, you know?

It just had to be done.

- When your shift's over,
come to my office.

I want you to tell me why
I shouldn't fire your asses.

- Lawrence Smith
was an outstanding officer.

He was an outstanding
human being.

And he died for what
he truly believed in:

justice.

I think it would be
easier to get angry,

to punish all the inmates

for a crime committed
by one of them.

- [groans]
Uhh...

Ahh...

- But knowing Lawrence,

I don't think that
he would want his death

to bring about more pain,
more suffering.

[overlapping yelling]

I think that he would want
his death to bring about...

peace.

[guard laughing]

- You want to
get a drink?

- No, no, I got
a press conference.

- Oh, that sounds
like fun.

- Warden?
- Yes, Eddie?

- Did I hear right--
Groves wants a firing squad?

- Yeah, the sick bastard.

- Do we have
a firing squad?

- No, I got to
put one together.

- I'd like to volunteer.

- Why?

- Smitty was my friend.

- You know, in this case,
I'm not sure

if that's a good
enough reason, Eddie, I mean...

this isn't about revenge,
it's about the law.

But, uh...

I'll get back to you.

Gloria,
you wanted to see me?

- Yeah. You're done.

Look around--we got
a bumper crop

of officer-related
injuries.

- O'Reily,
what happened?

- He hit me.
I wasn't doing dick,

I swear,
and he just ups and hits me.

- Who?
- Yeah, right.

I tell you, and next time
I get it worse.

- Take that.
Leo, look,

since Smith's murder,
this ER's SRO!

I'm telling you, your officers
are out of control.

- You've gotta do something.
- I know, I know.

I know.

- "You know."
[whispers] Jesus...

- Are you saying that
random reprisals are justified?

- Yeah.

- Well, one person killed
Lawrence Smith...

Groves. The other inmates
are innocent.

- Innocent?
Christ!

I didn't expect you to
understand, McManus.

- What do you mean?
- You were never a guard.

Huh? You didn't come up
through the ranks,

like Leo, me,
the rest of them.

- So I don't understand
the anger, the frustration

that COs go through?

That's fucking bullshit.

- Look, Leo, you cannot keep
suspending these guys

just because they slap
some dipshit around.

- Well, I can't condone it,
either, Lenny.

- We're understaffed as it is.

You took experienced officers
off of the rotation.

What're you
leaving us with?

Newbies who can't
handle a crisis.

- So what do you
suggest I do?

- Just let our guys get through
Groves' execution.

Once he's in a body bag,
this whole thing'll fade away.

- So in the meantime, they
whale on whoever they want?

- Reality's hard for you,
isn't it, McManus?

[bell ringing]

[background chatter]

- Hi.

I'm Officer Gordon Wood,
here replacing Vogelsang.

- Well, hi.

Vogelsang's a good man, but he
can't control his temper.

How long you been
working at Oz?

- Three weeks.
- Ha.

A veteran, huh?
- [chuckles] Hmm.

- Okay, if you got
questions, ask.

It doesn't make you stupid.
It may save both our lives.

- I hear you.

Is that Kareem Said?

- Yep, in the flesh.

- Hmm. He don't look
so tough.

- Yeah, well,
looks are deceiving.

- My laundry
interests you?

- Yeah.
I always wondered, uh,

famous guy like
Kareem Said,

is he a Fruit of the Loom
or a Haines man?

- I don't wear underwear.

- Oh. Ha ha.
I see.

You, uh, you like the
wide-open spaces, huh?

- That's right.
- Oh, well...

Asalaam alaikum.

[dramatic chords]

- It is with enormous
sadness and respect

that I present to
Loretta Smith

the Fleishman Medal of Honor
in memory of her son,

Officer Lawrence Smith,

who died in the service
of this great State.

[reporters chattering]
- Mrs. Smith,

do you feel justice
has been served?

- I would like to be able
to watch the execution.

- Mrs. Smith, I don't
think that's a good idea.

- Besides,
the State doesn't allow

family members
to be present.

If I could help,
believe me, I would.

- Can I see Groves?

- I'm not sure what
good that'll do.

- I'm not sure, either,
but you're going to kill him,

and he'll be dead and buried

and I won't get another chance.

I'm Loretta Smith.

You killed my son.

You're a handsome fellow.

- Thanks.

- You broke God's law,
"love thy neighbor".

I want to hate you,
but I can't.

I feel pity and tears,

but no hate.

I didn't realize that
until this moment.

You are my neighbor,
and I love you...

And I forgive you,

with all my heart.

That's all.

- [sobbing softly]

[footsteps retreating]

- First I want to thank you
gentlemen for volunteering

to serve on
the firing squad.

Since we announced to the press
that Groves chose this method,

we've been swamped with
phone calls from sharpshooters

all over the country
wanting to sign up.

But the warden and I
felt it best

if we handled this internally.

Warden?

- There hasn't been an
execution by firing squad

in this state since 1872.

Fortunately, Lenny Burruano
worked in Utah

before coming to Oswald.
Lenny.

- Thank you, Warden.

Many people will tell you that
firing squads are barbaric,

but in fact,

it's a lot more humane
than the electric chair.

In any case,

the protocol for
a successful execution

is proper lighting,
proper distance.

But you must prepare yourself
for the emotional burden

of actually
pulling the trigger.

You should know that one of
the rifles will carry blanks

so that none of you
will ever know

who actually fired
the fatal shots.

[phone rings]

[ringing]

[ringing]

- Hello?

He what?

I'll be right down.

- Patient's name
is Donald Groves.

- Let's put down an NG tube,
pump his stomach!

- What happened?
- Overdose.

- Is he going to live?
- Ask me again in 20 minutes.

- Save him, Doctor.

Did you strip-search him?
- Yes.

- How the fuck
did he get pills in his cell?

- I don't know.
- Find out!

- We're losing him!
Start CPR!

- Save that little prick.
- What's the difference?

He's scheduled
to die tomorrow anyway.

- The law says that he has to be
aware that he's being executed.

He has to know why
he's being executed.

He has to be alive,
so save him!

Save his God damn ass!

- Rebadow, what are you
doing in here all day?

- Hiding.

- [chuckles]

- Any word on Groves?

- Yeah...

Dr. Nathan brought him
back from the dead.

- A resurrection, huh?

- Yeah. They delayed execution
for a couple of hours.

You miss him, don't you?

- Groves?

No.

I've learned over the years
not to make attachments.

If you do, you spend
all your time grieving.

- You know what?

I think grieving is a helluva
lot better than hiding, man.

- Hail Mary, full of grace,
the Lord is with thee.

Blessed art thou
amongst women

and blessed
is the fruit of--

- Father?
- Yeah?

- I've been thinking a lot
about my final words,

and I've decided
what I wanted to say.

I'd like you to write it down
and give it to Mrs. Smith.

That'll maybe make her
feel better, okay?

Will you do that for me?

- Of course.

I think that she'd
appreciate that.

- It's time.

- It's time.

- The sky's a nice
color of blue.

- Blessed Almighty God,

the Father and the Son
and the Holy Spirit...

Come upon you and
remain with you forever.

[dark chords]

♪ ♪

I just have to
hear his last words.

- You can listen
through this.

- Great.

[slaps paper on]

♪ ♪

- [gasping for breath]

- Do you have
any last words?

- I...just want to say

that I did--
[static]

- What's he saying?
- I don't know, I can't--

Can you fix that?

[taps]
[sound stops]

[gunshots]

- He's dead.

- No, what did he say?
What were his last words?

- I don't know.

I wasn't really
listening.

[gate buzzes]

- Drinking on
the job, Eddie?

- No...I'm off duty.

As of...
ten minutes ago.

Want some?
- No.

I never developed a
taste for Mogen David.

- Snob.

To Lawrence Smith,

a fine man
who died too young.

- Yeah, amen.

- Here's to Donald Groves,

a freak of nature
who lived too long.

- Yeah, probably.

- I killed a man
who killed a man...

I killed a man.

Although, maybe I didn't
kill him, because they--

they put blanks in one of
the rifles, so maybe--

I can never know for sure
if I killed him or not.

Maybe not knowing is
maybe worse than knowing...

'Cause at least
if I knew--

- Eddie...

go home.

Sleep it off.

- Sleep, yeah...
[chuckling]

[murmurs]

Something tells me
I'm not gonna

sleep much tonight,
either.

- "The best laid schemes
of mice and men"...

I don't get the mice part.

Were the mice
back in Burns' time

smart enough
to make a plan?

We've got mice in Oz,
but they don't seem too bright.

It's rats you got to
look out for.

Our rats come in
all shapes and sizes.

[playing classical piece]

♪ ♪

- Who the fuck's that?

- Some hot-shot,
highbrowed cellist.

I guess he's a hot-shot,

'cause McManus
gave him permission

to practice for
an hour every day.

So I gotta stay in here
and listen to him.

- What's he playing?

- I don't know.
I'm a Beck fan, myself.

[melody continues]

♪ ♪

- Prisoner number 97D403,
Eugene Dobbins,

Convicted August 18th, '97,
murder in the second-degree.

Sentence: 22 years.
Up for parole in eight.

- This cello
was made in 1744

by a man named Johannes Cuypers
in Amsterdam.

- That's good, huh?

- Yeah, it's good.
It's priceless to me.

That's why we keep it locked
in the chaplain's office.

- Oh, it sure is
beautiful.

- Beautiful, but lonely.

- Lonely?

How does a cello
get lonely?

- I have no one
to play with.

- You sound great
by yourself.

You don't need
anybody to play with.

- I'm used to playing with
symphony orchestras--

90 to 100 other musicians
making music.

A cello by itself is just...

just not the same.

[suspenseful drumming]

[thudding]

- Kenny...

you got any tits, man?

Hey, where you going?
- I'll catch you later, man.

- Come here,
hit this before you go.

- Naw, man, I gotta go
to the bathroom.

- Come on, man!
- Brother, I gotta pee!

- No, don't be
a pussy, hit it!

Come on.

[tense percussive tones]

Hit it good.

There you go.

- Everything I say
stays here, right?

- You have to ask?

- Jackson Vahue.

- Yeah, the
basketball star.

- When he got to Em City,
I was excited, you know?

I mean, he's always
been my hero.

- And you don't want him
to think you're a wimp,

so when he snorts,
you snort, right?

- Something like that.

But I'm not hooked again,
Sister, I swear.

- Well, you keep doing it,
you will be.

I'm going to
talk to Vahue.

- No!

- No, no.
It's okay.

I'll figure out a way
to confront him

about his drug use
without implicating you.

And you, meanwhile,

you come to the
counseling session on Thursday,

and stop doing heroin,
no matter what Vahue says, okay?

- Yes, ma'am.

- You know,
maybe it's time

you got yourself
another hero,

because to
be honest...

the one
you got sucks.

- You're going to do
what I tell you to do,

or I'm just going to
fuck you up.

- Yo, Jackson,
leave Dobbins alone, man.

- You butt out
of this, all right?

- I'm telling you, man,
leave him--

- Yo, fuck--
fuck you!

Ah!

- Get the fuck
out of here, man.

- Damn, what the fuck
was that about?

- Yo, man, you so high on--you
was hurting him for no reason.

- I don't need
no reason!

- Yo, he got
a gift, man.

- If you fuck
with it, it will go.

- What about my gift?

What about my
fucking gift?

I'm dying
in here, man.

- We all dying, Jackson!

- That ain't
no comfort.

[cello playing]

- We all got problems...

Impossible problems.

And then we
meet someone,

who's got bigger problems
than we have.

Or at least, they can't
handle their problems as well.

And somehow,
their weakness...

gives us strength.

[trumpet joins in with cello]

Simple truth number 62:

you help someone...

You help yourself.

[classical duet continues]

So I did what
Sister Peter Marie said.

I got myself
another hero.

And who'd've guessed...

It's me.

Yeah...

I'm proud,
'cause my plan worked.

I did my best.

But unfortunately
for Dobbins, my best--

it ain't good enough.

- Hey, Nino, you want to
play some pinochle?

- I'm in the middle
of a conversation here.

What fucking bog
did you grow up on?

You stupid
mick bastard.

Now get the fuck
out of here!

- Hey, O'Reily.
- What?

- What do you think those two
are talking about?

- How the fuck
would I know, Ross?

- Seem strange to you,
Nino Schibetta,

fucking mob guy,

chatting with the
nigger of Islam?

- Get lost.

Come here...

I've been
hearing shit.

- Yeah, me, too.

The Muslims are
going to start a riot.

- Yeah.

Rumor has it that they're
armed to the teeth.

I'm talking guns,

they've organized
every cellblock.

- If they take
charge, me and you

can kiss our
white asses good-bye.

- Yo, maybe Schibetta's just
making

some kind of a deal
with Said.

- Then how come we
don't know about it?

Maybe the old wop's saving
himself by giving you up.

- You're right,
we need to get organized.

- Definitely.

You got a card in your deck
nobody knows about.

- Adebisi?

- Yeah.

- He hates Said
as much as we do.

- Wouldn't hurt to have
a couple of homeboys

on our side.

- I'll talk to him.

- You ready?
- Almost.

Look, I saw Said
talking to Schibetta.

You think Said knows about the
two of us putting glass

in Schibetta's food?

- How would he know?

- Listen, Adebisi, you hear
any rumblings

about the Muslims
wanting to start a riot?

Stop that!

- Sure, you know.

- If it happens, where are
you going to land?

- On my feet,
as always.

- Hey, we supply tits to this
whole fuckin' prison, all right?

Those doily-heads are
going to gun for us.

- Don't worry bro,
I got your back.

- That's all I
need to know.

- How long is it going to
take before he dies?

- I don't know, it's not exactly
an exact science,

you know what I'm saying?

- I want him...

Dead.

Bon appetit.

[gate buzzes]

- Here you go, Nino.

What, you
don't like it?

I'll get you
something else.

- No, I'm just not
hungry, that's all.

- Is your stomach
still bothering you?

- Yeah!

- I told you to
go to the doctor.

- We got a huge pair
of tits coming in tomorrow.

Tell your...

Tell your pal Adebisi to
get his boys ready to run.

- You got it.

Say, Nino...

Anything going down
I should know about,

between us
and Said, I mean?

- No...

But you would know,

when you're
supposed to know.

I'm going to
go lie down.

- Hey, Dobbins,
you want a salad?

- Flush and
40-40 jacks.

- I got a marriage
and I got 100 aces.

Nino...

- Jesus Christ.

What the fuck
is that from?

Jesus!

What the fuck?

- Nino, Nino!

- Hey, hey, you don't
look so good, man.

- Christ!

- Hello, Kareem.

- Guess you heard

what happened
to Schibetta.

- Oh, yes...

Now, that was unusual.

The man was hemorrhaging
throughout his body.

Now, I wonder
what caused that.

- Bad diet?

- Too much garlic.

- Is the man
going to recover?

- The doctor says
he's got a chance.

- - So meanwhile...

We are in charge
of his operation.

So any business
you had with him

has to go through us.

- Business? I had no business
with Schibetta.

- You better not
be lying.

- Is that
a warning?

- Yeah.

- Well, I have a warning
for the two of you:

change your ways, or you will
suffer the wrath of God.

- God?

I don't see
any God.

- No God here.

- All I see
is you,

and your
bad heart.

- You have it
so wrong.

- I have a weak heart
and you...

have the
bad heart.

You can
keep my watch.

- Thank you.

- He's right.

You do have
a bad heart.

- What can I say?

I'm a bad-heart
motherfucker.

- I'll take this one.

Hey, Nino.

Remember when you called me
a "stupid mick bastard"?

Huh?

I ain't so
stupid now, am I?

Open up.

Sorry, we're
out of tomatoes.

- If you listen to the poets,
they'll tell you that

a big, bad event in
someone's life changes them.

If you lose the woman
you love or your legs,

you suddenly find a kind of
beauty inside yourself.

That's what they say,
the poets.

Truth is, you don't.

After a big, bad event,

you only become more of the
person you already were.

- Get out,
motherfucker.

- Get a fucking doctor!

- Fucking bitch,
how does that feel, you cunt?

- Beecher, you're
a dead man!

- If you're afraid Schillinger's
gonna kill you,

I'll place you under
protective custody.

- Fuck off! Fuck off! Fuck off!
Fuck off! Fuck off!

- It's after a big, bad event
that you find out

the real person
you always were, inside.

- Look what that
cocksucker did to me.

Turned me into
jolly-fucking-Roger,

only I'm--I'm not feeling
real jolly right now.

- Well, Dr. Nathan says that
there's a chance

they can still
save your eye.

- Always looking for
the upside, huh, McManus?

- Beecher's going to get out
of the hole soon

and it's very clear
that I can't have

both of you
in Emerald City,

so I'm trying to
decide who stays.

- Well, let's see now, he's
the crazy fuck who came at me.

He's the fuck who shattered the
glass that went into my eye.

- Are you saying his
actions were unprovoked?

If I say yes,
would you believe me?

- No.

- You know, the two of you
are the same fucking guy.

- What, me
and Beecher?

- You know what it's like being
able to see out of one eye?

Your point of view
gets twisted.

You can see straight, but you
can't see as far around.

What you see is
not only what's there.

- What's that got to do with me
being like Beecher?

- You eggheads think the world
really is the way you see it.

And then when you finally
figure out that it's not,

that you weren't
even close...

you get a
little bitter,

you get mean.

- I think you better go live
in Gen Pop for a while.

- Fine.

- Well, well...
look who's back.

- Hey, prag, Schillinger
sends his love.

- Fuck off!

- Hey!

Break it up.

[man wolf whistles]

- Beecher, you wanted
to see me?

- I need you to move me
to another cellblock.

- All the cellblocks
are full.

- Then move me to
another prison.

- Do I look like a
travel agent to you?

Beecher.

- What?

- Nothing.

[grunting]

[inmates yelling]

- You're an animal!
You're an animal.

[tense percussive tones]

- You're
going to die.

- Not today!

- That hurt!

Tie that motherfuckin'
Nazi up!

- Beecher, come on, baby.

Come on.

- [screaming]

Hey, motherfucker,
do you remember this?

[all screaming]

- He shitted on him!
- Oh, what the fuck?

[laughter]

- Sieg heil, baby!

Sieg-fucking-heil!

- We think we know
what we need.

We spend our time figuring out
how to get what we want,

who can help us,
who's in the way.

We make our moves
and sometimes we get lucky.

We get exactly
what we want...

And life gets worse.

Simple truth number 22:

be careful what you
wish for, brother.

Be very, very careful.

[tense jazzy music]

♪ ♪

[bright tone]