All language subtitles for Oz.S06E07.DVDRip.XviD-TOPAZ

movie info: XVID 512x384 23.976fps 699.8 MB
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Junk is the stuff that
was once valuable to us,

but that we now
have no use for.

Some junk is put away in storage
in the hopes of possible reuse.

Some junk
is discarded.

Either way, it's never really gone.
It's only out of sight.

Junk is still
and always somewhere.

Hill's book, man,
he writes good.

Make me
a little jealous.

- You got any tits?
- Nah, I'm all out.

Man, I ain't had
a taste in so long,

I feel like
I'm in rehab.

Yeah, we ain't
got no income.

The bookbinding
business went bust.

The wops block us
from slinging.

- Something will come along.
- You sure?

I'm like old
Billy Clinton, yo.

I live in a town
called Hope.

Prisoner #03B563:

Stanley Bukowski;

convicted January 16,
2003;

possession and distribution
of illegal substances;

sentence: 15 years;
up for parole in 7.

Hey, new guy.
Got any tits?

- No man, I ain't into the hard stuff.
- You got any weed?

There ain't nearly
enough weed for the need

in this
fucking place.

But I got
a shipment coming in.

Better watch
where you toke, cuz.

No no,
no puffing involved.

Only eating.

I got a shitload
of very green,

very kind pot brownies
heading this way.

Thinking of starting
a little industry,

if you get my drift.

Huh, well you see, Bukowski,
what you need is partners,

or else certain people
will find out

that you're stepping
on their turf.

We can make
the trouble stay away.

This is bullshit.
He won't get them through inspection.

He don't even know
the right hacks.

Yeah, I got that
all figured out, all right?

The pot
is totally i-o-nized,

so it don't reek at all.
Not even to the mutt's nose.

The rest of the recipe
I'm guarding like the Coke formula.

Suffice to say, the body buzz,
oh, is kick ass.

You know what?
Double fudge, too,

with extra thick icing
for effect.

Stanley,
you a genius.

- What's up?
- I like that.

Come on, man.

Mail call!

- That's all?
- Yeah.

Bukowski, you got
a box of brownies.

Here you go, cuz.

- Enjoy.
- Thank you.

Welcome back
to "Sallycize."

We're gonna play some volleyball
today, so get your balls out

and make sure
they're firm and round,

'cause we're gonna
bounce them high.

And side and up.
That's right.

Keep your wrists
stiff and stiff...

This is the best
"Miss Sally" ever.

And stiff, jump, and stiff, jump.
Good, everybody.

Jump. Work your arms,
stiff, stiff and hard.

Yeah, hard,
pump it up!

Ganja brownies.
Why didn't we think of that?

That punk is gonna
suck off our profits.

He could hurt us,
that's for sure.

That bastard
needs a funeral.

Pena di morte.

There's definitely
butter in there.

Of course there's butter,
Kenaniah, it's a brownie.

What we're trying
to do is figure out

Bukowski's secret ingredient.

Man, we can guess
till we green.

The only answer is get the recipe
from Bukowski himself.

Yeah, yeah, then we can
unload his white ass.

Look, you fucks better leave me alone
or my home boys are gonna...

- What, they're gonna come after us?
- Yeah.

Call them,
go ahead.

Oh, I feel
like Custer.

Come on, Custer,
let's take a walk.

- He's dead?
- I hear his face melted.

There goes our
latest enterprise.

What you mean? We got Bukowski
to spill the secret recipe, right?

Nah, I called in the specifics
to my Cousin Malcolm,

told him to mix up a batch.

- He said the stuff is shit.
- Wait wait wait wait.

- Bukowski lied to us?
- Uh-huh.

Fuck, man, you can't
trust anybody these days.

Man, I say it's
the wops fault.

Let's just go bust
some heads, man.

Wait. Yo, I got a plan,
and it all starts with Burr.

Hey, Burr.

Yo, Burr,
we want back in.

Whatever you want,
telemarketing, whichever.

For starters,
say that again.

This time,
on your knees.

- You serious?
- Bend them!

Bend 'em, man.

Get down, man.

Yo, we... we...

Shut the fuck up.
I heard you the first time.

Be there
tomorrow morning

ready to work
them phones.

Come on, man,
just come on.

See, Burr, I knew you'd
fill these desks again.

Yeah, well, I finally
convinced my boys

to follow
the straight and narrow.

Okay, we're here.

Now, you gonna tell me
your big plan?

Credit cards.
Every time we take a order,

we steal
the credit card numbers.

My Cousin Malcolm,
he can sell the list for major dough.

Cyber-slinging.

- I love it.
- All right, all right.

10 months ago divers
swimming deep in the Pacific

discovered two pieces
of the P.T. 109.

That's the boat JFK was
commander of in World War II

when it was sunk
by a Japanese destroyer.

In the past they've also found
the Titanic, the Hunley,

and hundreds of thousands
of other ships lost at sea.

Makes you wonder
how much is down there.

How badly have we littered
the ocean floor?

The best part is
sea life adapts.

They take our naval junk
and make it their own,

make it their home.

Rebadow, where's Stella?
I need to talk to her.

Today's the day
of her lumpectomy.

Oh God, yeah,
I forgot.

Stella said she'd have her friend
call as soon as she was out of danger.

I'm sure
she'll be fine.

Yes, hello?

I'd like to send
some flowers.

- Any word from Stella?
- No.

I thought she'd be done
with the surgery by now.

Sometimes hospitals
get backed up.

Hey, bookworm!
Bookworm!

You gonna read
another book, fag?

- Ignore him, Pablo.
- Fuck that.

Get back in the cell!

Time for final count.
Let's go.

I still haven't heard from Stella.
Five more minutes.

It's now or the hole.

Bob, don't be worried.

Stella's indestructible.

No one's indestructible.

Funny, I got all
caught up in thinking

she needed me
to beat the cancer,

but in truth,
she didn't need me.

And that hurts
all the more.

Oh, thank God.

Score is love-love,
everybody.

There's gonna be a lot
of squatting down.

It's gonna be a lot
of quick moves, thrusting...

Oh, good.

Time to exercise
the old fantasy muscle.

Hit those balls,
hit 'em!

They ought to do a Miss Sally marathon
and bring the schoolyard back.

Especially
since Busmalis

didn't learn his lesson
of the day the first time.

Miss Sally says, "Don't try
and marry my slutty secretary."

They're jealous.

The two oldest guys in the joint
are the only true Romeos.

Yo, Busmalis, you really
gonna do it again?

Getting left at
the altar and all?

Even if the wedding
do go through,

he gotta play baby daddy
to a kid ain't even his.

Some might consider that
an act of generosity.

I consider it
an act of insanity.

The brat was conceived on what should
have been your honeymoon.

That's like freakier
than cloning.

Yo, the warden's not even gonna let him
get a kick-off conjugal.

- Marriage ain't marriage without sex.
- That's right.

You gonna step
in here, Bob?

You do have some
serious issues to resolve.

Great.

Well, to all you lonely,
horny naysayers

with no one but Rosie Palm
and her five sisters

to love you,
I say this.

Right here, baby.

Right in my
big blue balls,

coming back to life
'cause I'm going to the chapel

and I'm gonna
get married, yeehaw!

Better get
your Viagra ass out.

Stop that.
She'll be here.

She's more than
an hour and a half late.

Do you have any idea
how little time that is

to a man
serving 10 years?

We'll wait
a little bit longer.

Agamemnon, you may want
to consider the possibility that...

Never! She'll be here
in three seconds.

One, two...

Two and a half.

Oh, Aggie,
I'm so sorry!

Please tell me
that you got the message.

- What message?
- I called,

told some guy
who answered the phone

that the sitter was late.
He promised to pass it along.

Promises don't mean
a whole hell of a lot in Oz.

Well mine certainly does.
Marry me!

Hit it, Father!

In 1957, the first satellite
was sent into space.

Since then 4,186 satellites
have followed.

300 of them
are still up there,

defunct, abandoned.
Some the size of Volkswagens.

Occasionally you hear
that one of them

is gonna fall out of the sky,
gonna hit the Earth.

The experts say,
don't worry.

Most likely it'll
crash into the ocean.

Most times they're right,
but, brother,

I don't want
to be standing around

the one time
they're wrong.

I asked to be placed
in Em City for one purpose

and one purpose only,

to find someone
to kill me.

Good morning.

Have you figured out
a way to kill me yet?

No.

Can't fuckin'
concentrate

with you
sweating me 24/7.

Could we at least
discuss a timetable?

Count!

Yo, I need
to see McManus now.

Of all the ridiculous things
that you've said and done,

and there have been plenty,
this is the most ridiculous.

Okay, it's crazy, I know,
but look, it's true.

Idzik wants me
to whack him.

Yeah, right.

You know, this is just your feeble
attempt to cover your tracks.

You've been threatening to kill
that man ever since he got to Oz.

I know I did,
but I don't now, right?

I mean, there's something about the man
begging me to do the deed,

I don't know, makes it so...
makes it so wrong.

Like I said,
ridiculous.

Get the fuck out
of my office.

- McManus...
- Now!

Well?

Look, Idzik,

you gotta look at this thing
from my perspective, okay?

You're asking me
to commit a criminal act,

and yet you refuse
to tell me why.

I killed Kareem Said.

Why isn't that reason
enough for you?

For me, yeah, yeah,
that's... but still,

that don't tell me
why you wanna die.

Okay.

But not here,
follow me.

Light. That's what
this is all about.

That's what makes
everything happen.

Not just
in this room,

but everywhere on the planet,
in every corner of the universe,

light generates life.

But that's coming
to an end.

What are you
talking about, how?

When suns
and stars explode

they create new suns,
new stars.

And each time,

these new entities
are smaller,

containing less energy.

And so when they too
explode, as they must,

the next stars and suns

are even smaller,

even weaker.

Eventually all the gas,
all the heat,

all the light
will dissipate.

The galaxies will
grow cold and still.

What happens to us then?

Without light
we cease to exist.

We could maybe, um...

build a rocket ship,
right?

Omar, there'd be no energy

to fuel the rocket to space.

Besides, there'd be
nowhere to go.

There's nowhere to hide
from the inevitable.

All life will stop.

Damn.

So don't you see?
Everything that we do,

the plans we make,
the hopes we have,

they're futile.

Being good at a job,
which I was,

building a home, which I did,
raising a family...

which I had,

none of it
means anything.

Because no matter
how we try,

how much we strive
and struggle,

it'll all come
to naught.

Life is a waste of time.

So that's why
I'm counting on you

to kill me.

You will, won't you?

Look look look,
I need some more time.

I need some time
to think, all right?

I'll give you
my answer by noon, okay?

Yo, Reb,

you got any literature
on, um...

the end of the world?

Nebuli, neb... nebuli.

Galaxies and quasars,
it's awesome.

Heat.

Heat and...

gas.

Simple.

It's noon, and you said
you'd have an answer by now.

I do. Come here.
Come here, look.

I been doing a lot
of reading

about doomsday scenarios.

From the apocalypse

to, uh,
the Crunch Theory,

um, black holes,

meteorites bombarding
the Earth.

It's just
like you said.

You know, no matter
what we do, someday,

light, heat

and gas

will be
extinguished forever.

But there's one thing,

one thing you didn't mention.

It won't be a void.

You know, there won't be
just nothingness.

You see, the weakest
force in nature

will become dominant,

and that's
g-r-a-v-i-t-y,

- gravity.
- So?

So? So?

Something will
still exist.

There'll still be
an energy in the universe.

I mean, maybe our physical
bodies won't be here, but...

we will still be part
of that new dynamic.

Who knows?
Maybe it'll be better.

I very much
doubt that.

Yeah, but if there's just even just
the slightest chance...

Are you trying
to tell me

that you won't
kill me?

I'm sorry, I can't.

Don't you understand?
I'm finally onto something here.

And if I just,
just keep digging,

maybe I'll...
maybe I'll find an answer.

I'm very disappointed
in you, Omar.

Well, I know, but wait,
but this is Oz.

It's full of murderers.

Maybe you can convince
somebody else.

No no,
that's all right.

I have
an alternative plan.

Count!

What the hell?
Murphy, get down here!

Cuff him.

Holy fuck.

Jesus fucking Christ.

They say one man's trash
is another man's treasure.

Like fish
in the sea,

we take something someone else
doesn't want and repurpose it.

We go to antique stores
and auction houses paying top dollar,

proud to have
captured the prize.

But when someone you love dies,
the stupidest object,

their keychain,
a torn sweatshirt,

suddenly becomes
very special.

An icon
to be venerated.

- You wanted to see me?
- Yes.

Have a seat, James.

What is it?

The physical you
took last month.

I got the results back,
your blood test.

Oh, shit.

I think you should
have a seat, James.

Don't tell me.
I got AIDS?

You're H.I.V. positive,

which does not necessarily
mean you have AIDS.

Jesus Christ!

The treatment
available today

do wonders for people
fighting H.I.V.

Thousands of patients
are leading normal lives.

Are you hearing me?

Promise you
won't tell anyone.

- Not anyone.
- No, of course I won't.

Files...
destroy the files.

I can't do that.

I can.

Lunch,
little brother.

Is it Fluffernutter?

Not this time, sport.

- He's doing fine.
- Yeah.

You know, he's still
completely unaware

that he was
almost executed.

I don't know if we can get away
with the charade the next time.

Cyril's gonna be fine.
He's not gonna die.

Ryan, the court didn't
overturn the death sentence.

One justice ruled for a stay,
and that's all.

No.

I prayed,
God listened.

- He saved Cyril's life, that's it.
- Ryan.

Hey, Ma, have a little
faith, all right?

I will.

Look, fuck stick,
I don't make the food.

All right,
I just serve it.

Ryan?

If you're finished,
I'd like to see you.

I don't know
if you're aware

that I was
the attending doctor

for your
brother's execution.

No.

Well, I agreed to be there
in case Cyril needed something.

- I appreciate that.
- Then as they were strapping him in,

I suddenly had this
flash of my husband...

And the horrible way that
he died at Cyril's hands,

and I thought, "Good,
I'm glad that I'm here to watch."

I can appreciate
that, too.

Well, I can't.

Revenge is not justice.

You know,
I'm a doctor.

I heal people.
I save lives.

I shouldn't feel happy
at the moment of...

of another person's
death, anyone's.

Not even the man
who killed my husband.

You know, Gloria,
I've been thinking,

I really need
to do something

to balance out all the...

all the shit
that I've done.

And I'd really like
to come work

in the hospital.

Ryan.

No.
Not to be near you.

Or just
to be near you.

Ever since I washed
Father Meehan's body,

I've...

I don't know.

I've spent
so much time

trying to stay alive
here in Oz.

All my energy has been
focused on my survival.

And I'm fucking
good at it.

So I'm thinking maybe
it's time for me to help others survive.

It's no scam.

I swear to you,
on my brother's life.

I believe you.

You do?

I'll request
the transfer.

Thank you.

Prisoner #03P138:

Seamus O'Reily;

Convicted
February 3, 2003,

murder in
the first degree;

sentence: 34 years;

Up for parole in 16.

- Yo.
- Dad's coming to visit?

Well, not visit,
exactly.

That's one sad-looking
plant there, McManus.

Well, it's supposed to survive
without natural light,

but, aw, fuck it.

Look, I'm here
about my dad.

I don't want Seamus O'Reily
in Em City.

- I don't want him here, either.
- You don't?

No. I just came up here
to make sure that

you weren't gonna do the right thing,
try to reunite us

or some kind of
bullshit like that.

I don't want that old
bastard anywhere near me.

- Welcome to Oz.
- Fuck you.

Forget about having
too much garbage,

too many bottles, cans,
watermelon rinds,

disposable baby diapers
and such.

What's really terrifying

in terms of the long-term
health of the planet

is toxic waste.

Toxic waste.

You can't put two worse words
together except maybe...

nuclear war.

"It will have blood,
they say.

Blood will have blood.

Stones have been known
to move and trees to speak.

Augurs and understood relations
have by maggot-pies

and choughs and rooks
brought forth

the secret'st man
of blood."

That's very good, Vern.
You have a natural gift.

Acting is often about
making a lie ring true.

- So do I get the role?
- Sure.

I'm just a little surprised that you're
so enthusiastic about it,

considering that we've had
so much trouble with people dying.

Taking this part now proves I've got
bigger balls than anybody in Oz.

I've come
to audition.

Too late, Beecher.

Yeah.
I got the part.

Oh, all right.

Oh, no, wait. My Macduff
got sent to solitary yesterday,

so how'd you like
to try out for that?

Sure.

Read this.

So, this is where Macduff
learns that Macbeth

has killed
his wife and son.

"Sinful Macduff,
they were all struck for thee!

Naught that I am,

not for their own demerits

but for mine fell slaughter
on their souls.

Heaven rest them now."

How'd the audition go?

You're looking at
the new Macbeth.

Still a couple of roles open.
You ought to try out.

No, I don't like
wearing makeup.

I like being backstage,
though.

I'm gonna help out
with props.

Oh, wow,
wish I had my camera.

This is
a Kodak moment.

Keep walking, Beecher.
No one's talking to you.

You know, Schillinger,
I am really surprised at you,

associating
with this fuck.

After all, he killed one
of your Aryan brothers.

What are you
jawing about?

Franklin Winthrop.

Killer Keller
snapped his neck.

- He's lying.
- Of course he is.

Why would Keller
want to whack Winthrop?

He did the deed
for me,

out of love,

to avenge
my father's murder.

Guard! Guard!

Any of this ring
a fucking bell, huh, Vern?

God damn you.

Look at that,
I can still cry.

You know what?
I'm proud of that.

You pussy ass bitch.

- Shh.
- Don't shush me, motherfucker.

Chris, you did
kill Winthrop.

Yeah.

That's okay.
He was nothing.

But Beecher knows
too much about both of us.

He's gotta die.

Yeah.

I'll deal with it.

No, I'll kill Beecher.

You?

Before I whack him,

I just want to fuck him
in the ass one more time.

Hello?

Suzanne told me to tell you
to wait for her here.

I love props.

What looks
real, isn't.

Like this shank.

Hah! See that?
It's fake.

At least I know I got
your attention now, though.

I'm trying
to learn my lines.

He speaks and yet he says nothing.
What of that?

Shut up.

Oh, okay.

You know, I've always thought
actions speak louder than words anyway.

Now, this one's real.

By the way,
these are real, too.

- Hey, Suzanne. Late for rehearsal?
- Hey.

Well, no, doesn't
start till 3:00.

I got a note from you
asking me to let Beecher out early

for a catch-up
rehearsal.

I didn't write
any note.

Time to wake up, Toby.

You fucking cocksucker!

Shh.

It's just like the old days, huh?
You as my bitch.

- Fuck you.
- Fuck me.

Fake... real.

Or did I get them
mixed up?

Let's see.

Hope I got your
attention now.

Toby...

Schillinger
wants you dead.

That's no secret,
right?

I told him that
I would do it.

Ask me why.

- Why?
- To keep you alive.

That's right.

I've been pretending to be
Schillinger's butt buddy

to keep you safe.

So that you and I
would know of his plans.

But I know how...

bullheaded you are.

I knew that if I had told you,
you wouldn't believe me.

I concocted this
whole goddamn thing

just to convince you that
I'm on the up and up.

Now, if I was really siding

with Schillinger, Toby...

you'd be dead
already.

But instead...

all I really want...

is for you
to love me again.

What the fuck
is going on here?

Just a little harmless fun
between two consenting adults.

So does Beecher believe
you're betraying me?

Motherfucker doesn't
know what to believe.

I'll fill in the rest
as we go along.

He's so proud of his tears.
We'll give him something to cry about.

Junk is garbage.

We Americans dump
400,000 tons of garbage

every day in over
6,000 landfills.

Problem is, as the population
keeps growing,

the amount of
available space diminishes.

Remember
a few years ago

that barge that kept
sailing around

'cause no one wanted to accept
its decaying cargo?

Imagine a future
full of ships,

detritus stinking
to high heaven

trying to find a port.

How'd it go?

They rejected
my parole.

Yeah, my wife and I are
retiring to Sarasota, Florida.

- Nice.
- Luis,

can I have a moment
of your time, please?

- Sure, um...
- We'll wait for you in the lobby.

- Okay.
- Um, Miguel Alvarez,

- I want you to have a meeting with him.
- Why?

Well, so that
he can apologize to you

for hitting you
at the last hearing.

Does this have anything
to do with me taking over

as head of the parole board
when Steve retires?

No, this has to do
with a guy

who's making a genuine
attempt to be rehabilitated.

Look, I see Miguel
every day.

You see him once
every three years.

I believe
he's changed.

Give him a chance
to prove that to you.

- I'll think about it.
- Please!

I'll think
about it, Tim.

He said no?

He said maybe.

Oh. I guess
that's something.

The key, Miguel,
is keep on track.

Don't get sucked up
in all this shit.

- I'm trying.
- I know.

- It's fucking hard.
- I know.

Hello, Miguel.

Hey, Cathy Jo.

How are you?

I'll be better when
we finish this legal stuff.

The lawyer says
once you sign these,

all of Wolfgang's
property is mine.

You look beautiful.

Thank you.

You know, I didn't...
I didn't know Cutler that well,

but he's gotta
be a dope

for treating you
the way he did, you know?

If it was me,

I'd worship
at your feet.

I guess we should
deal with this.

Then again,
what's the rush?

None.

None fucking at all.

I heard Cathy Jo
visited again.

That mean you signed all
the property over to her?

Not exactly.

It's either yes
or no, Alvarez.

Or it's not exactly. She isn't sure
that she wants everything.

- What the fuck does that mean?
- I don't know.

Says she wants
more time.

Give her time.

All right,
just get it done.

Hey, I'm just doing what the widow wants.
It's just like you asked.

Jesus, you guys
gotta calm down.

I don't trust
that little spic.

Next time she comes,
I want a mole in that room.

I don't think
I trust her, either.

Prisoner #03T323,

Alonzo Torquemada.

Convicted
February 6, 2003,

assault in
the first degree;

sentence: 10 years;
Up for parole in six.

Who the fuck
is that?

It's Torquemada,
a club owner.

The king
of the night.

Miguel Alvarez.

I hear you're
the man to know.

Whoever told you
that was an idiot.

Quieres festejar?

No, thank you.

I hate heroin.

Oh, I ain't talking about
that street shit, sweetie.

I'm talking the latest
in synthetics.

You ever done destiny?

D-tabs.

Like a 6-month
Mardi Gras.

I'm up for parole
in a couple.

I'm gonna keep my record
and my head clean.

I like you.

You're smart.

You can be
my numero dos.

That's funny.

Of the drag queens?

Oh, no.

I intend to run
all of Em City.

You want Em City?

You gonna beat the wops?
You gonna beat the niggers?

That's right.

Taken one too many
of them d-tabs, baby.

Trust me, Miguel,

once the boys get their
hands on this shit...

every con in Oz
will be mine.

Mmm.

Junk is also classic slang
for narcotics,

usually heroin.

The people using
are junkies,

and as a result,
lives can be destroyed.

Junk bonds cause
financial disaster.

Junk food brings
nutritional ruin.

Junk mail is just
plain irritating.

Our lives are
filled with dreck.

But the hardest dreck
of all to clear away

is the one of
our own making.

Yood...

I'm gonna ask you again,
and this time I want the truth.

Did you see who murdered
Willy Brandt?

No.

It happened right here.
You were somewhere in the area.

How could you
not have noticed?

What I saw, I saw.

What I'll say
is another matter.

I could force you.

Warden,

I'm smart enough
to know that what happened here

is a small thing that's tied
to the tail of a dragon.

My advice is to forget about
who killed Willy Brandt

and who killed
Mayor Loewen.

Move on before
that dragon comes out

and bites you
in the ass.

Officer Johnson,
what can I do for you today?

- Another job.
- Oh, Jeez.

Last one, Lionel.

That's what you said
when I killed Willy Brandt.

Brandt was small potatoes
compared to this.

Yeah? Who?

Oh, Jeez.

Guess what,
I found out

who's getting the Correctional
Officers Association's

lifetime achievement award
at tonight's banquet.

For 34 years dedicated service,
courage and calm,

the award goes
to Leo Glynn.

Congratulations.

No one deserves this
recognition more than you.

Yeah, right.

You know as well as I
the only criterion

for the lifetime achievement
award is survival.

Ooh, we've gotta get you
to loosened up for tonight.

Well, I'm not
gonna loosen up

until I put Wilson Loewen's
murderer behind bars.

Brandt murdered Loewen
and now Brandt's dead.

He's dead because someone
didn't want Brandt testifying

as to who paid him
to kill Loewen.

Oh.

Hey, Leo, I need to
ask you a couple of ques...

Wow.

Tim, come back here.

Ha-ha.

Last time I wore
this getup was...

was at your
40th birthday party.

Oh, jeez, thanks for
reminding me, Sean.

I wasn't
feeling lousy enough.

I was thinking of
heading over, you know,

have a couple of belts
before all the droning.

Huh?

Rumor is Leo's gonna get
the lifetime achievement award.

Ceremony's in a half-hour,
you know that, right?

Yup.

So, what's the problem?

Little Tim need help
with his clip-on?

Come here.

I think there's gonna be
trouble in Em City tonight.

Sure, but no more
than usual.

Yeah, but, you know,
maybe I should stay here

just in case.

Do you not want
to go to the party?

Well, what the fuck
do you think?

I think you must
really love your job

or hate your boss.

Count!

I'm gonna party.

98A498,

92M220,

97 A413...

Listen, shouldn't we...

shouldn't we get
the show on the road?

Not without Leo.

- Yeah, where is he?
- I'll get him.

You should slow down.

Oh, boy.

Leo?

Leo?

Leo?

Jesus.

Leo!

Officer,
call code one!

Turn off that music!

Turn off that
fucking music!

Get that gurney here!

Leo, can you hear me?

I can't feel
his pulse.

Oh my God,
he's dead.

You know how to get out
of any labyrinth?

No, Tim, I don't.

Well, the second
that you go in,

you just put
your hand on the wall

and then you walk.

And as long as you keep
your hand on the wall,

you'll get out.

But this maze,

the one that I designed,
it doesn't have any walls.

I don't understand
why you and Leo

being together
bothered me so much.

I mean, the whole point
of our divorce

is so we could
both be happy, right?

Now neither of us is.

You know what I miss most
about being married to you?

You always knew
how to comfort me.

I loved him so much.

According to statistics

from the United States
Bureau of Justice,

the prison population
has grown

by almost 550,000
since 1991.

That's an increase of 69%.

Junkyard, prison,
same difference.

Only in prison,
the junk we're discarding,

the flotsam and jetsam,

are human lives.

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