Original subtitles

(siren blaring)

("Bad Boys" by Sean Paul and Trueno): ♪ Rapapam ♪

♪ Los wachos fumando como un rastaman ♪

♪ Las wachas posando pa las cámaras ♪

♪ Yo dejo el bajo sonando ♪

♪ Uh, yo tengo una vaina distinta, mai ♪

♪ Sé como hacerlo, como nadie te va a tratar ♪

♪ Deja que toda esta vibra te pase en el cuerpo ♪

♪ Así baila desacata ♪

♪ Bad shorty, good body... ♪

(Marcus screaming)

(gasping)

Hey, slow down, Mike.

Okay? You're making me sick.

I would slow down if you hadn't already made us late.

(engine revving)

♪ Están llegando en móvil ♪

♪ Toda argentina con Sean Paul... ♪

W-We're not late, okay?

You're just anxious.

No, I'm anxious 'cause you made us late.

And I'm not doing this with you in the next phase of our lives.

You're gonna respect my time.

(tires squealing)

(Marcus groaning)

My stomach. My stomach.

Hey, Mike, look.

Pull over at that store right there.

I need a ginger ale.

Look, we don't have no time to get no ginger ale, man.

Come on, Mike, I'm sick.

You're freaking me out, okay?

I feel like I'm gonna throw... (gags) throw up.

-I dare you, Marcus. -(suppressed retching)

(engine revving)

-(Marcus yells) -(song ends)

You got 90 seconds, all right?

Ginger ale and nothing else.

I am a grown-ass man.

-Mm-hmm. -Okay? Just be nice.

Oh, okay. 85 seconds.

(entry bell jingles)

(watch ticking)

Ooh-ooh!

(sizzling)

Are those dogs fresh?

I put 'em on yesterday.

Well, give me one and, uh, put some relish

and some mustard on that motherfucker.

Hook it up. Come on, hurry up.

Yeah, no, that one right there.

Yeah. Yeah, that right there. Hurry up.

Got to go, got to go.

Don't be taking your time.

Yeah, my man. Oh.

MAN: Hey, open the register.

-No, no, no. -Now!

Sir, today is not the day.

-(gun cocks) -Shut the fuck up!

Look, if I'm not in that car

-in 15 seconds... -(watch ticking)

there's a very surly man

that's coming in here, and we both are fucked.

-Marcus. -Hey, don't fucking move!

Get the fuck over there!

Hey, Mike, I told this guy I had to go.

Mm-mm. Is that Skittles on the counter, Marcus?

Well, he was taking a long time w-with the ginger ale.

That is incorrect. He grabbed that ginger ale

the second he came in here.

A hot dog, Marcus?

You're not supposed to be eating that shit.

-This is not mine, Mike. -Yes, it is.

Mind your business with your tattletaling ass.

Everybody, shut the fuck up!

Sir, I'm gonna need you to lower your weapon.

Come take my weapon, then, motherfucker.

Don't antagonize him.

Marcus, get in the car.

Mike, he has a gun to my head.

Want to deal with him or you want to deal with me?

Sorry, sir, but I got to go.

-(gun fires) -(screaming)

(slow, distorted ticking)

You didn't have to shoot him, Mike.

Get in the car.

Call 911.

CLERK: Aren't you the police?

Other people look at you and see the tailored suits,

the cars, the watches.

I met you without any of that--

stripped, basically naked--

which is 90% of why I'm marrying you.

(both laughing)

I met you at your lowest.

You'd been shot.

But there was a fire in you that was extraordinary.

And I vow to spend the rest of my life fanning that flame.

I now pronounce you husband and wife.

You may kiss the bride.

-Yes. (chuckles) -(guests cheering)

("Coma Droga Poderosa" by Hanny playing)

KELLY: You know, it kind of makes sense

that he married his therapist after he got shot.

-I love that for him. -Mm-hmm.

Mental health is super important.

Well, it was his physical therapist.

Congratulations, Michael.

Rita. Thank you, thank you.

Mr. Mayor.

Oh, not yet. Don't jinx it.

I'm still just a lowly U.S. Attorney.

(laughs) Uh, I've been watching what you're doing.

-You got my vote. -Aw, thank you.

Congratulations to you.

-Well... -I mean,

the definition of a power couple right there.

(laughter)

-I'll, uh, grab you a drink. -Okay.

Can I get you anything?

No, I'm good. Thank you.

And all this time, I thought you were a terminal bachelor.

(chuckles) I-I, uh...

I even surprised myself with this one.

Yeah, I guess you just hadn't met the right one.

I had some growing up to do.

-You were 50. -(laughs)

-(song ends) -MARCUS: Uh...

-(cheering and applause) -Whew.

Okay, uh...

I'm gonna pre-apologize for whatever he says.

(sniffling)

-MIKE: Uh-uh. -Mike.

-Uh-uh-uh. Don't sta... -No.

-Marcus. -You know how it is.

-Marcus. Come... -Let me get it out.

Come on, man.

-Everything you done been through, man. -Okay.

The witch, the Bruja.

The prostitute.

My sister.

Remember? You could've told me about my sister, Mike.

You could've told me that.

I would've embraced you if that's who she was feeling.

-I love you, Mike. -MIKE: No doubt.

You know, Cap would've loved to been here to see this.

But you know what, we got his daughter Judy

and his granddaughter Callie.

She wants to say something.

Um, my granddad loved you guys,

and if he were here,

he would've told you not to eff this up.

(laughter)

That's what he would've said.

Yeah, he would've said, "Don't fuck it up." Oh!

(laughing): Exactly.

Oh, excuse... excuse me.

Hey.

Mike, you been my partner a long time.

Yes, sir.

Now he's gonna be your partner, Christine.

(exhales sharply)

To Mike and Christine Lowrey...

-for life! -ALL: For life!

("Wobble" by V.I.C. playing)

♪ Get in there ♪

♪ Yeah, yeah, get in there ♪

♪ Yeah, yeah ♪

♪ Get in there ♪

♪ Yeah, yeah, get in there ♪

♪ Yeah, yeah ♪

♪ Hey, big girl, make 'em back it up ♪

-♪ Yeah ♪ -♪ Make 'em back it up ♪

-GUESTS (chanting): Go, Marcus! -♪ Wait a minute now ♪

-(chanting continues) -♪ Wait a minute now ♪

♪ Wait a minute now ♪

-♪ Wait a minute now ♪ -♪ Wobble, baby ♪

♪ Wobble, baby, wobble, baby, wobble ♪

♪ Wobble, baby, wobble, baby, wobble, baby, wobble ♪

-♪ Get in there, yeah, yeah ♪ -(chanting continues)

♪ Get in there ♪

-(music distorting) -♪ Yeah, yeah, get in there ♪

-♪ Yeah, yeah, get in there ♪ -(chanting fades)

-♪ Yeah ♪ -♪ Make 'em back it up... ♪

(song fades)

-What happened? What happened? -(clamoring)

Marcus. Marcus!

-Sir, what's the address? -Let me in. Let me in.

-Let me in. Let me in. Back up! -What's the address?

RITA: This is Captain Rita Secada.

I have an officer in cardiac arrest.

(heartbeat thumping)

(muffled, distorted chatter)

-MIKE: Come on, man. -(beeping, clacking)

-(clacking) -(thunder crashes, rumbles)

♪ ♪

(whooshing)

(giggling)

(thunder crashes)

(squawks)

It's not your time.

(indistinct whispering)

(medical monitor beeping)

(whooshing)

(beeping continues)

("Somos Latinos" by Play-N-Skillz playing)

♪ Gente de Zona ♪

♪ Dale Pututi ma-ma-mami ♪

♪ Lo mejor que suena ahora, Play-N-Skillz ♪

♪ Soy latino de sangre, yo salí de la calle ♪

♪ Vengo de un barrio humilde y el corazón sigue grande ♪

♪ Un pasito p'aquí, un pasito p'allá ♪

♪ Todos mis latinos ♪

-♪ Ahora vamos a rumbear ♪ -♪ Uno, dos, tres, vamos ♪

♪ Tremenda rumba que se ha formado ♪

-♪ En el party de los latinos ♪ -(elevator bell dings)

♪ Estamos todos desacatados... ♪

Marcus!

♪ Hacer esto no para hasta mañana ♪

-(button clicks) -♪ Repite, repítelo ♪

♪ Hoy vamos a hacer lo que nos dé la gana ♪

Marc...

♪ Oíste pana ♪

This guy.

(song ends)

(horns honking)

Hey, buddy.

What you doing?

I spent my whole life being scared, Mike.

I wasted so much time.

Wh-Why don't you, uh... why don't you just, uh,

step back from the edge a little bit, please.

What year is it?

It's Tuesday.

Same year your ass was wobbling in.

Oh, wow. Felt like it was five years.

I was in the basement of the ocean.

All my bullshit was gone.

Just freedom.

And full-body love, Mike.

-Full-body love. -All right. Okay.

Wh-Why-Why don't you, uh,

love your full body back from the-the ledge, please?

MARCUS: Nothing to be scared of.

It's not my time, baby.

It's not my time.

-(door opens) -NURSE: Mr. Burnett!

MIKE: Uh, uh, hey, uh, I got him.

He-he-he's just, um...

(sighs)

I don't know what the fuck he's doing.

Uh, but I got it.

I-I got him. We're good. We are good.

-We are great! -Hey.

-MARCUS: Miami! -MIKE: Whoa.

MARCUS: 305 for life!

Kakow!

-All right, just... (stammers) -Kakow!

You gonna put somebody's eye out with that thing, man.

I'm bringing the thunder, Mike.

-I get it. -Bringing the thunder.

-Yeah, all right. There you go. -(Marcus hollers, laughs)

Oh, man.

Bring it in.

Thought I lost you, brother.

Couldn't lose me if you tried.

You know your ass is out, right?

Everybody's ass is out, Mike.

Hey.

There's a storm coming.

(wind whistling)

No, not that kind of storm.

You're gonna be tested.

Things are gonna get bad,

and you're gonna have to make a really hard choice.

Just know you're good.

♪ ♪

(thunder crashes)

This is my private time, Mr. McGrath.

How may I help you?

I need you to move some money.

-Your money? -Your boss's, actually.

I need it to be cartel cash.

Just under 20 million.

Backdated series of transfers--

beginning 2004, ending January 2020--

into that account

in the name of the late Captain Conrad Howard.

I have people who can handle logistics.

I really just need your log-in credentials.

And why would I give you those?

Oh, my God! (whimpers)

Shh.

(quiet whimpering)

McGRATH: Come here, darling.

-Come on. -(whimpering)

Come here.

You can't transfer funds from a phone.

Hey, honey. What's going on?

Do... do... do they know each other?

(whimpering)

Honey, who's there with you?

-All right, all right. -Honey...

-(typing) -Here we go.

They'll kill you for this.

They're not even gonna know this happened.

Your girlfriend heard you on the phone with your wife

and realized you were never gonna divorce her.

And in a fit of passion, she shot you.

(girlfriend whimpers)

Your bodyguard tried to step in,

but he was too late.

(quiet whimpering)

And realizing the horror of her actions...

-...she took her own life. -No!

(gunshot)

("Flores Pa Ti" by Becky G, Luísa Sonza, Papatinho playing)

♪ Si me ven mandando... ♪

THERESA (over phone): Honey, what are you doing?

-You had a heart attack two weeks ago. -Exactly.

They call it a widow-maker for a reason.

You need to be in the hospital, baby.

Hey, I tried to... Told his ass, T.

He... Yeah, uh, apparently, he's an adult.

He was allowed to sign hisself out.

(groans) Hey, babe, look.

Come on. I couldn't take one more second away from you.

All these stents in me got my blood flowing.

I'm on "D" way.

-All right, now. -(growling playfully)

Oh, hey, hey.

-Come on, man. That's my phone. -(chuckling)

-I love you, Marcus. -MIKE: We'll be there in ten.

All right, babe. All right. Love you.

(engine revving)

Hey, Mike, I wasn't even gonna tell you this,

but this ain't the first time we done this.

We ride together all the time. What you mean?

No, I'm talking about our souls.

You know, we've ridden together,

but I saw it all, Mike.

We're bound, and we have been for lifetimes.

We haven't always been Mike and Marcus,

but we've always been us.

Um...

What you talking about?

(whispers): We're soulmates.

(laughs)

-Yep. -Yeah.

Nah.

Yeah, I kind of... I-I saw my soulmate looking

a little different than that.

See, see, see, Mike, you stuck in the physical.

Souls don't have dicks.

I'm pretty sure my soul has a dick, Marcus.

See? That's that shit right there.

That's why we're stuck.

You know, I wasn't gonna tell you this shit, either...

-Mm-hmm. -...but, uh, my soul is

more advanced than your soul.

Mm. Mm-hmm.

It's not that your soul is stupid.

-Mm-hmm. -You know?

It's just that you're more like a...

-a baby soul, you know? -Mm-hmm.

And I'm more like a mother soul.

-Mm-hmm. -And I just got to suckle you.

(chuckling): You know?

-Put you on that titty, okay? -Oh, yeah.

(laughing): You know?

Hey, how long you think your brain went without oxygen?

(sighs) Daddy's home.

-(laughs) Where my family? -Honey, you're back.

-My family. -Oh, baby.

-MARCUS: Hey, baby. -MIKE: Hey.

(grunting, laughing)

-Look. Granddaddy. -Oh! Little Marcus!

Say hi to Pop-Pop.

-Hi. -Say hi to Granddad.

-Yes. -Aw. I missed you so...

-MARCUS: Look at you, woman. -Look at...

-No, come on. Look at me, baby. -Mm, mm.

(both moaning softly)

("Dagombas en Tamale" by Residente playing in Spanish)

We're gonna have to hose them down.

All right. All right, we get it.

-We get it. -(laughter)

Put some ice in your drawers or something.

-Aw, that's funny. -(laughter)

Are you feeling good, Marcus?

I never felt better in my life.

Oh, Marcus.

I missed you so much, honey, but you need to get some rest.

-Oh, no, baby. I need you. -(chuckles)

Just let me get some electrolytes.

-Okay, baby. Give me a kiss. -All right. (grunts)

So, what's going on with my dad?

Um, well, he-he was on the roof, uh, naked.

(faintly in other room): And, uh, he said he had been

at the basement of the ocean.

"Amazing Chickpeas"?

Uh, oh, and he said, uh, I have a stupid baby soul

-with no penis. -Hmm. Mm.

(stammers)

Hey, Reggie!

-Yes, sir. -Did you eat my snacks?

No... no, sir.

I was looking forward to my snacks, Reggie.

-THERESA: Honey. -Ah...

(gunfire, screaming on video game)

You know what? You need to get a job.

I'm a U.S. Marine, sir.

Well, then you need to deploy.

We just got back from Yemen.

Thank you for your service.

-You thought I was dead, didn't you? -Dead?

One thing you don't know, Reggie:

I got a camera up in here.

Yeah.

Theresa!

It's the doctor's orders, Marcus.

You're on a strict diet: no salt, no sugar, no fats.

No stress, no loud noises, no physical exertion.

Just sit your ass down somewhere, man.

Tell him, Mike.

And, honey, I'm doing it with you.

We're now vegetarians.

Vegetarians? Look at me.

Look at all this man, baby.

I'm brand-new.

I need animal sugars to survive.

Well, baby, I have a salad for you.

-A salad? -MIKE: Hey.

Uh, T, looks like you got this under control.

Uh, my tour of duty is done.

Bye, Christine. Bye, Mike.

-(chuckles) Bye, guys. -MARCUS: H-Hey, Mike.

Wait up. Wait up, wait up.

-Yeah, yeah. -What you about to do?

Can you run a quick-quick for me?

What... Yeah, what you need?

Um, I'll give you a thousand dollars for some Skittles.

Marcus, I am not buying your ass no candy, man.

Okay. 2,000, Mike, for some Ding Dongs.

And that's my final offer.

I think you're gonna be Ding Dong-less.

Like my soul.

♪ ♪

(thunder crashes, rumbles)

MIKE (voice-over): You always take whoever I love.

-(bullet whizzes) -(grunts)

MIKE (voice-over): This is Detective Mike Lowrey.

Captain is down.

He's my son.

MARCUS (voice-over): You got a fucked-up family, Mike.

(distorted grunt)

♪ ♪

(cell phone vibrating)

Department of Justice has been investigating

the corruption in the Miami Police Department,

and we now have credible intelligence

that Captain Conrad Howard was directing these elements

in coordination with the cartels.

(reporters clamoring on video)

GRICE: No, I'm not interested in approximately what time.

I need to know exactly what time.

Do you understand?

You knew about this?

I found out two weeks ago.

A press conference? Really?

I'm sorry about the way you had to find out,

but given your closeness...

Our closeness?

Neither one of y'all would have a job

if it wasn't for Captain Howard.

Rita, you know this is not true.

Honestly, I don't.

The investigation has turned up new evidence.

GRICE: Miami law enforcement's been

a leaky ship for years now.

Witnesses turn up dead.

Informants disappear.

Events appear random until you aggregate them

over a period of years.

Then a pattern emerges.

Who is this?

Bud Grice, FBI, heading up the JTF on this show.

That's who I am.

Now, we knew someone was providing intelligence

to a cartel moving product into South Florida.

We just didn't know who.

LOCKWOOD: A cartel banker turned up dead

two weeks ago, shot by his girlfriend.

They found a phone with Howard's contact on it.

Years of communication with the cartel,

account references offshore.

Millions in Howard's name.

Final piece we needed to nail that dirty motherfucker.

-LOCKWOOD: Grice. -Oh, whoa.

Hey, hey. Let me holla at you.

Um, you know I was with him when he went down, right?

Call him dirty one more time.

I dare you.

We know he had others who were with him.

We're gonna find them, too.

I was with him. Put the cuffs on me right now.

-I was with him. -Mike.

No, these motherfuckers think that just 'cause he's dead

and can't defend hisself,

they gonna dump all this shit on him, burn his legacy.

Not on my watch.

This is Judy Howard, U.S. Marshals.

I realize I have no jurisdiction here,

but as a professional courtesy, I'd like to request visibility

into the sources of the allegations against my father.

Judy.

We're gonna figure this shit out, all right?

How's Callie?

How do you think, Mike?

We're on the same team here, Judy.

Like hell we are, Mike.

My dad would still be alive if it weren't for

-your bastard son. -Judy.

If I ever catch him out on the street,

I swear on my father I will put him down.

MARCUS: Come on. Come on, man. Come on.

So, what's our next move?

They said he was working with the cartel.

Let's ask the cartel.

How you doing?

It's prison.

MIKE: Yeah.

Look, we need your help.

They're saying that Captain Howard was dirty.

Do you know anything about that?

How much time I get off for this one?

MIKE: I'm still working on that.

This is me telling you that I need you.

Mm.

I need to know if Captain Howard

was working with the cartels.

No.

He was onto the ones that were.

So he got green-lit.

Wait, no. No, Captain Howard was killed

because he was on your mother's hit list.

He was added to it.

Your people wanted it to look like us.

Your people wanted him dead.

What you mean "our people"?

You should be careful.

You're playing a game when you don't even know the rules.

There's dirty players on your side.

-That's bullshit. -Wait, who?

I saw him one time.

-Can you I.D. him? -Sí.

Give me a name.

I don't know his name.

My mother.

(voice-over): She's the one who dealt with him.

(scoffs) I knew we should've kept that damn witch alive.

Marcus.

May she rest in peace.

Dude.

♪ ♪

(quiet chatter)

LINTZ: Hey, boss. Our man on the inside

got all of Howard's records in the JTF file.

Computers, phones, files, all of it.

Well, we know Howard was onto our operation.

We just don't know how much he had.

We need to make sure we got every trace.

That's beautiful.

Hey, boss.

It's all the paper files. They're clean so far.

NICOLE: Two phones had nothing.

His office computer was empty.

-He was careful. -But?

NICOLE: But his old personal laptop

had weak encryption.

-Here... we go. -(computer trilling)

Shit.

We tripped a fail-safe.

The fuck you mean, "we"?

Something was sent.

To who?

NICOLE: Tracing the phone now.

(cell phones vibrate and chime)

What the hell?

He's texting us from the other side.

No, he's not, Marcus.

If you're seeing this, I'm probably dead.

Fuck. Fuck me.

Before I begin, I want to say one thing:

I'm putting you in mortal danger.

Boys, we got rats in our walls.

But I-I got to make sure you're my bad boys.

The Coke bottle giant is the key.

What?

Don't trust anybody.

What's that? What does that mean?

"The Coke bottle giant."

(snapping fingers)

Fletcher.

Oh, shit.

NICOLE: These are the guys.

We should put a bullet in these motherfuckers.

Be done with it once and for all.

Lintz, I love you.

I'd like nothing more than to let you loose on them,

but extra dead cops doesn't do us any favors here.

(voice-over): Keep them under constant surveillance

and see if they make a move.

Fletcher's warehouse is right down that alley.

Mike, I wasn't even gonna tell you this...

Ugh. Then don't tell me.

No, you got to hear this.

This is big.

I can't die.

What?

I cannot die.

Motherfucker, you did a pretty good job of dying

at my wedding a couple weeks ago.

But I didn't.

Watch.

Hey, Marcus.

("Look at Me Now" by King Flexx playing)

-Hey! -(horns honking)

♪ Yeah, I was born to be the greatest ♪

Hey!

♪ Yeah, I was born to be your favorite... ♪

Hey! Marcus! Marcus!

Hey, stop, stop. Hey. Hey!

Marcus!

DRIVER: What are you, some kind of moron?

MIKE: Stop, stop.

(engines revving, tires squealing)

Please stop!

(tires screech)

-Hey! -Bro!

Slow down!

Crosswalk!

-(tires squeal) -Ah... (laughs)

-♪ You cannot stop me ♪ -(song ends)

Talk to me.

-You got to trust, Mike. -Mm-hmm.

Trust yourself.

Trust the universe.

Stop that shit, Marcus.

It's not my time, Mike.

Oh, okay, so you're saying

that if I shoot you in your face,

you're saying that you won't die?

Fate dictates that you won't shoot me in the face.

I'm saying... I'm-I'm saying that you saying

that if I shoot you in your face,

are you saying you won't die?

Fate doesn't deal in hypotheticals, Mike.

¡Oye! ¿Qué estás haciendo?

I'm going to call the police!

They're already here, ma'am.

Mind your business.

Just go to the beach.

Stop that shit, Marcus.

(Marcus chuckles)

See? You're putting your gun away. (chuckles)

He's putting his gun away.

(chuckling)

-(mellow music playing) -(quiet chatter)

Ooh. Mike.

Focus, man.

Yeah, I call this place, you know,

Creative Space for Black Imagination, you know.

-That's... -MIKE: Fletcher.

Oh, my God.

Thank you.

What the hell is this place?

This is my studio gallery.

I'm an artiste now.

Please, you ain't no damn artist.

(inhales sharply, clicks tongue)

-What do you guys want? -Captain Howard.

Yeah, I was sorry to hear what happened to him.

He helped turn my life around.

He told us to talk to you.

Okay. Talk to me.

I just talked to you.

Then say what you're supposed to say.

-I said what I'm supposed to say. -You didn't.

Then tell me what I'm supposed to say.

I've said all I can say.

You fucking with us, beanstalk.

Marcus!

Come on.

Captain Howard saved my life. I'm not messing this up.

I can't say what I supposed to say

until you say what you supposed to say.

Fletcher, just tell us what you supposed to tell us.

Dumbasses. Look.

Captain Howard was onto something big.

He didn't trust that you dumb fucks would figure it out,

so he contacted me.

Because you're stupid and I'm a genius.

So I protected the information in something.

In something beautiful.

(sighs)

Flex your face one more time. Flex it again!

I will blow your fucking head off.

Would you stop? Come on.

In something that will live forever.

(silenced gunshot)

-Did you shoot him? -(people screaming)

(sniffs) I don't think so.

(panicked chatter)

♪ ♪

Freeze!

Marcus. Marcus!

("Can't Get Enough of Your Love, Babe" by Barry White)

♪ I've heard people say that ♪

♪ Too much of anything is not good for you, baby ♪

♪ Ah, no, no ♪

♪ But I don't know about that ♪

-(spits) -(song slows and distorts)

-(yells) -(song stops)

You hit?

Nah. Black jelly bean.

Nobody likes that shit.

-Whoa. -(song resumes)

♪ My darling, I ♪

♪ Can't get enough of your love, babe ♪

Hey! Stop that stupid shit!

♪ Girl, I don't know, I don't know why ♪

♪ I can't get enough of your love, babe ♪

I'm not fucking with you! Stop!

(bullets ricocheting)

(song fades)

(distorted roaring)

No! No, no!

-No! No! -(yells)

I don't give a fuck!

Marcus, stop! No!

(gunfire continues)

(breathing heavily)

-What are you doing?! -I got this!

But you don't, though!

No. No!

Marcus!

(grunts)

Let's go! Let's move!

(grunts) Marcus!

Burnett and Lowrey are moving north on 11th.

(engine starts)

(panting, grunting)

(horns honking)

(grunts, yells)

Miami PD! Go!

(tires squeal)

What are you doing?!

I'm fighting crime, baby.

Freeze!

(gasps)

(distorted yelling)

(groaning)

(breathing heavily)

-Mike! -(engine revving)

(tires squeal)

♪ ♪

Have you ever had a panic attack before?

What?

Ain't nobody have no damn panic attack.

You're at 165 over 90.

Sweaty, nauseous.

Look, there's no shame in getting counseling.

-All right. Thank you. -Mike.

Appreciate you, brother.

Mike, let the man do his job.

-What... -MIKE: Okay.

Good... good job, man.

Hey, Mike.

What the hell you panicking about?

I'm not speaking to you.

What'd I do?

(indistinct radio chatter)

You two all right?

Mike had a panic attack.

He didn't. Mike is fine.

What happened?

Rita, you ain't gonna believe this shit,

-but we got a text from... -A tip.

We got a tip that Fletcher had violated his parole,

so we came down here, and...

obviously, he was into some shit he ain't have no business.

Is that true, Marcus?

Uh, um...

(laughing)

You know, well, you know, I... I was with Mike.

How could you, of all people, think Captain Howard was dirty?

I don't want this to be true, but it would benefit all of us

to do our jobs and follow the evidence.

And you think he was stupid enough

to put accounts in his own name?

-He's being framed. -By who?

That's what we're trying to find out.

Rita, come on, you're smarter than this.

Michael, please do not forget you're talking to your boss.

I'm trying to protect you here.

I got no footage for a two-block radius.

What?

They must have killed all CCTV, all security cams.

I got nothing.

(laughing): At least they ain't film your panic attack.

(Mike laughs mockingly)

Hey, guys.

-You had a panic attack? -MIKE: No.

If you want, I can recommend a good counselor.

I'm good, Dorn. Thanks.

Look, I shot this, went frame by frame.

Check it out.

All right, not here.

-Dorn, shut it down. -Yeah.

Hey. Let's go.

So, what is this?

MARCUS: We're not exactly sure.

(typing)

-Whoa. -MIKE: Wow.

There you go. There you go.

All right, you fucks.

Now that I know it's you, here it is.

I don't know how high up it goes,

but there's corrupt officials on our side,

and they're working with the cartel.

This all started smelling funny about nine years ago.

That shipment of coke we were about to raid went missing.

You know, I-I kept getting shut down from above.

So I... I pulled Sanchez and Ruiz out of retirement.

I had 'em working on the outside, you know?

They were killed in a car crash a week later.

That shook me up.

And it's why I never brought you two in.

Well, shame on me for worrying about your asses

when you could've saved mine.

But now it's up to you.

Remember the bust back in 2003?

314 pounds of ecstasy?

Well, I held on to the storage unit, off the books.

That's where the real files are.

Everything you need to exterminate

these rat fucks, it's in there.

You're gonna have to finish what I couldn't.

Please.

Please, boys.

You're my last hope.

(Dorn sighs)

2003, um...

that was the-the Haitian, Zoe Pound.

Where was their storage locker?

I have no idea. All right.

We need you guys to go down to the station

and pull our original case files.

That'll tell us where the locker is.

Do it quietly and be careful.

We don't know who we can trust.

DORN: Shit, this is heavy, man.

Um... (clears throat)

I just got something important to say.

I'm just gonna come out with it, clear the air.

Uh, the rat is not me, so...

Thanks for that, Dorn.

(sighs) I feel safer.

(quiet chatter)

(grunts)

♪ ♪

(exhales sharply)

(gate closes)

(grunts)

(exhales slowly)

(speaking Spanish)

(grunting and groaning)

(excited chatter)

(groans)

(alarm blaring)

(frantic chatter)

(groaning)

MIKE (voice-over): They just tried to kill my son

because Armando can prove that Captain Howard was innocent.

Cap was onto these dirty players.

Armando told you that?

Yes. It's the reason they wanted Captain Howard dead.

Armando can I.D. the guy that ordered the hit on Cap.

He have a name?

No.

But a face.

Listen, I know y'all can do this, all right?

Just transfer Armando. Get him to Miami.

Get him to a secure location.

We'll-we'll debrief him. We'll get his testimony.

We'll get some pictures in front of him.

But please do it now.

These guys are trying to cover their asses,

and they are not gonna stop.

Do it for Captain Howard.

(sighs) Look, the evidence against Captain Howard

is overwhelming.

If I'm doing this, I'm doing it for you.

All right. Let's transfer Aretas.

You'll accompany him,

get him to igloo here in Miami, do a debrief.

But I'm sticking my neck out and I'm trusting you.

If he turns out to be bullshit, then it's gonna be my ass.

So... don't screw me, Mike.

(cell phone vibrating)

MIKE: All right.

Thank you. Thank you.

Yeah?

DORN (over phone): We found Zoe Pound's storage unit.

We'll go get the files, then take them

to my houseboat for safekeeping.

All right. Stay on it.

Let me know when you got it.

(siren wails)

Please surrender your firearms.

They will be returned to you upon touchdown.

You good?

Never been better.

It's about 45 minutes.

Mike, I wasn't even gonna tell you this,

but in one of our previous lifetimes together...

Mm-hmm?

...you were a donkey, and I owned you.

(chuckles) You were a stubborn ass, Mike.

-Mm-hmm. -You used to bite and spit.

-You were nasty. -Mm-hmm.

But I-I was a terrible owner, you know,

-because I used to beat you. -Mm-hmm.

Because you wouldn't listen for shit.

And maybe I beat some kind of shame into you, Mike.

And now I realize I was scarring your soul.

You miss your nap?

(sighs)

Mike, I'm trying to apologize to you.

We don't have your blankie,

but you could just rest your eyes.

That's exactly how you was as a donkey.

-Okay. I get it. -That's that shit there.

You need some help with your seat belt?

No, donkey.

McGRATH: Hey.

Bryant, this is Bronson.

The other guys are on turnaround.

BRYANT: Take a seat.

(engines powering up)

-(thunder crashes) -(rattling)

MIKE: What's up?

(thunder crashes)

-(beeps) -McGRATH: Read the lines.

(voice shaking): "U.S. Marshal flight 724.

"We have an emergency.

"Our prisoner has escaped custody

"with the aid of Miami PD-- Lowrey and Burnett.

"There are officers down.

"Mayday. Mayday. They are coming for the cockpit.

-(tool whirring) -"I repeat,

"they are hijacking the CH-47.

All ground units, please respond."

(gasping)

♪ ♪

-McGRATH: Give me Lowrey's gun. -LINTZ: Copy.

(grunts)

LINTZ: Go, go! Get Lowrey.

(beeping)

-Let's go! -(Mike grunting)

(grunting and groaning)

-(groans) -(alarm blaring)

(screams)

We welcome the storm, motherfuck...

(grunting)

(yelling)

(alarm blaring)

(grunting and groaning)

(straining)

Get me out of this fucking cage!

MIKE: Marcus!

(groans)

Mike!

(straining)

(grunts)

(grunting)

(straining)

-MARCUS: It's too heavy! -MIKE: Don't let go!

-(rattling) -(gasping)

(gasps)

(straining)

(groaning)

(groaning)

♪ ♪

(groaning, panting)

ARMANDO: Grab the stick!

(straining)

Where the hell you learn how to fly?

I'm a drug dealer, man. To the right!

(straining)

(metallic creaking)

(breathing heavily)

(grunting)

(groaning, breathing heavily)

He was using my gun.

How the hell did they get on a federal transport?

We need to split up.

We're gonna stay together.

Says who?

I'm not asking you.

I'm telling you. We're staying together.

-Fuck out of my way. -Hey. Where...

-MARCUS: Hey! Hey! -Get the fuck off me.

-Hey! Hey! -Listen!

Look, you are the only person

who can identify whoever is doing this.

The only way that any of us stays alive

is if we get them before they get us.

There's no us. There is no us!

Damn.

That Lowrey DNA is a bitch.

Y'all some strong motherfuckers.

Okay. Now, look, everybody unflex on three.

One. Two.

There you go.

Captain Howard left us files

that's gonna tell us who's doing this.

Dorn has them.

We just have to get back to Miami.

You better not slow me down.

Lose your phones.

You keep up with me, or I leave you in the dirt.

You're in my world now.

♪ ♪

Hey, Mike.

Look, we got to think about this.

I know you want to move with him,

you know, because he's your "son."

Whoa. Whoa. Don't air-quote that.

No, I-I didn't. I'm just saying

I know why you trying to protect him--

'cause he "family."

Hey.

Moving the air quotes down to your hips

doesn't un-air-quote them.

Just-just say he's my son.

-He's your son. -No, no.

Palms up is like you trying to say,

oh, he's not really my son.

Oh.

Well, your son's getting away.

MIKE: Shit.

♪ ♪

HIRSHBERG: If your men are on some kind of op,

you might want to pull us in.

Otherwise, it doesn't look good for them.

Yeah.

-Judy. -You I.D. the bodies?

Roger. We got three unaccounted for:

Lowrey, Burnett and Aretas.

Motherfuckers.

-Fucking... Shit. -(siren wailing)

All right. Listen up!

We have three suspects, armed and dangerous, out there.

And I want them back.

-Let's go. -(busy chatter)

RITA: Hold on. Judy.

Three suspects?

What do you think is happening here?

Wh-What do you think?

Play the audio.

BRYANT (recorded): U.S. Marshal flight 724.

We have an emergency.

Our prisoner has escaped custody

with the aid of Miami PD-- Lowrey and Burnett.

There are officers down. Mayday. Mayday.

Come on, you can't possibly believe

Mike and Marcus would do this.

Nah, you said it.

Lowrey was obsessed with getting his son out of prison.

Slow down, Judy.

This isn't Miami, Secada.

These are my fugitives,

and right now the whole world is my jurisdiction.

You've known them your whole life.

How can you even suggest...

Do I think that Mike and Marcus planned this?

Probably not.

But people do things they wouldn't normally do

when family's involved.

In my experience, innocent men don't run.

Can we stop and think before...

Are you capable of doing your job?

'Cause I need to move on.

They survived.

The fuck you mean, they survived?

No bodies on site.

U.S. Marshals are treating it as a manhunt.

These guys just refuse to die.

They're wanted men.

(voice-over): Law enforcement and media are our friends now.

REPORTER: A manhunt for three fugitives

is sending shock waves across South Florida.

REPORTER 2: Ballistic reports have matched the bullets

recovered from the bodies at the...

Are you planning on dropping out

of the mayor's race in light of the recent events?

GRICE (on TV): The manhunt is currently underway.

The FBI is assisting U.S. Marshals

in bringing these men in.

Lowrey, Burnett and Aretas

should be considered armed and dangerous.

These are individuals who have killed

fellow law enforcement professionals.

If you see something, say something.

Put a bounty on the streets.

(voice-over): Get it to every gang in the city

-and let them fight for it. -(cell phones chiming)

Five mil.

(sucks teeth)

(voice-over): Let's go get these motherfuckers.

♪ ♪

MARCUS: The universe is crazy, ain't it?

Look at us.

I bet none of us thought when we woke up today

this is where we'd be.

You out of jail.

We going to jail. (chuckles)

This shit is special.

Mike, is there anything you would like to say to Armando?

Fuck you talking to me like that? No.

Mike, this is a moment.

Express with your son.

I'm sorry.

That's what I'm talk...

That's what I'm talking...

For what?

MIKE: For everything, man.

Seems like bad shit happens to anybody I love, so...

starting to think maybe I'm cursed.

I just feel like...

maybe I cursed you.

You ain't fucking curse me.

Bad shit happens to everybody.

Ain't always about you.

MARCUS: Hey, Armando.

I don't know if I told you this,

but I died a couple of weeks ago.

-Sorry to hear about that. -MARCUS: Oh, no.

(chuckling): Best thing that ever happened to me.

Shit's wild.

But y'all...

y'all the reason I came back.

Hey.

Everybody, bring it in.

Come on, bring it in.

Come on.

-Dude. -MARCUS: Bring...

-(sighs) -MARCUS: There you go, Armando.

There you go. There you...

Y'all are some terrible fucking fugitives.

So, what-what are you, fucking Marcus Winfrey?

-What? -What you... See?

-I'm just trying... -You making us look soft,

like we don't know how to be on the run.

♪ ♪

(dog barking in distance)

We got to get you out of this.

Hey.

That boy hardheaded.

Chip off the old block.

♪ ♪

Well, what we got here?

Hey, Cain, come take a look at this!

-(gun cocks) -What are you boys doing?

"Boys"?

Are y'all stealing our clothes?

(chuckling): Looks like it.

Fucking racism.

Y'all think just because we Black

we stealing your shit?

Now, these are my own Black clothes

that I put on today from my own Black closet.

-Marcus. -What?

Look at your shirt.

Hey, man. (chuckles)

How'd this get in my Black closet?

Why don't you boys sing us a little Reba song?

(men chuckling)

-MARCUS: Uh, Reba? -MIKE: Reba?

Oh, yeah.

-Oh, please. (sputters) -Uh... which...

That's, um, 'cause he put... he put me on to...

Whi-Which one? Which y'all... Which one?

Sing your favorite.

Oh, she got plenty of them, um...

-'Cause she got hits. -Yeah, she got hits.

-Was it the up-tempo song? -Yeah, yeah, remember the one?

You know, where she... or the...

-or-or the slow jam? -Uh...

-It was the slow one, man. -Oh, okay, uh...

-♪ You hurt me in the morning ♪ -You hurt me...

Yes, 'cause she was hurt. She was, yeah, uh...

-♪ You hurt me at night ♪ -♪ You hurt me at ♪ Yes, yes.

-MARCUS: ♪ But I've changed ♪ -MIKE: ♪ Changed ♪

-♪ And I'm strong ♪ -I'm a...

-I'm a woman. -I'm a woman.

-I'm a strong Black wo... -A strong...

-♪ I'm a strong woman ♪ -Woman, yeah, 'cause

-she not Black, but... -Yeah, she... But...

BOTH: ♪ Ooh-ooh-ooh ♪

(chuckling): Yeah. And, um, um...

♪ Whatcha gonna do? ♪

-♪ Whatcha gonna do... ♪ -Mm-mm. Mm-mm. Mm-mm.

That ain't no Reba song.

It's from her mixtape.

("Bad Boys" country version): ♪ Bad boys, bad boys ♪

♪ Whatcha gonna do? ♪

-♪ Whatcha gonna do... ♪ -(horn honking)

(gasping, shouting)

♪ Bad boys, bad boys... ♪

MAN: Goddamn it!

♪ Whatcha gonna do when they come for you? ♪

We're sorry! We'll bring it back!

We're not stealing your shit because we Black!

♪ Whatcha gonna do when they come for you? ♪

♪ Bad boys ♪

♪ Ah, whatcha gonna do? ♪

Did you ever love her?

What?

My mother. You ever love her?

(whispers): He's expressing.

I definitely loved her.

And then you sold her out.

I made some mistakes.

Like me.

Now, you know that is not what I was trying...

Now, wait a damn minute, Armando.

He's trying to make up for it.

He don't owe you a damn thing.

All right, ho-hold on. Hold on, Marcus.

You're-you're just... you're being aggressive.

I've been a dad a long time.

He needs to hear this, Mike.

He needs some tough-ass love.

Armando, maybe he does owe you something, okay?

Your mom being deceived by him,

you being born in prison,

in a web of lies

that turned your ass into a stone-cold fucking killer.

Yeah. You're a killer.

(scoffs) But this man, through it all,

has been nothing but solid.

That's some father-of-the-year shit right there.

-Is it? -Yeah.

(engine sputtering)

(steam hissing)

Your wack-ass parenting broke the truck.

My bad.

(engine whining)

Yeah, nah, that's dead.

We're not far from Tabitha's.

Nah, Mike. You know that woman's crazy.

Yeah, but she likes me.

I don't think she likes you as much as you think.

The Pony's about two miles from here.

What's The Pony?

♪ Because tonight, tonight, tonight ♪

-(lively chatter) -♪ Oh-oh ♪

(whooping)

♪ I'm gonna make it right, tonight, tonight... ♪

TABITHA: I need my Instagram. I need my Friendster.

I need more sex.

I need more men in this club.

You all look beautiful.

Now, get back to work. (clicks tongue)

Mike Lowrey. Damn.

What up, Tabitha?

So y'all in trouble, huh?

Yeah, uh, we need some help. Um...

-Well, we need some clothes. -No shit.

-A ride and some phones. -MIKE: Mm. Yeah.

Yeah. Guns, too.

Uh, that's my son. That's Armando.

You got you a little Spanish son?

Yeah. (sighs) Yeah, it's a long story.

Um, can you hook us up?

I mean, I got all that, but what you gonna do for me?

What you mean? We good for that.

You were.

But you guys are men on the run now, so...

Well, what you need?

-What I need? -Mm-hmm.

I need you to eat this pussy.

-(gasps) -(Mike chuckles)

I'm not doing that, all right?

Whoa. Hold on, Mike.

Hold on. Think about this.

Now, you say guns and phones, right?

-Mm-hmm. -Okay, well, look,

-you know Mike's a married man. -So?

So he's gonna need some plausible deniability.

So I'm-a have you lay down and, uh, stick out your tongue,

and you gonna have to do the rest.

I can fuck with that.

-Oh, yeah. Go on and lay down. -No, Marcus.

All you got to do is close your eyes, Mike.

-No. -Ooh, I'm-a need pictures, okay?

-You know how to take pictures, right? -Tabitha, hey.

-What? -We don't have a lot of time.

I need you to stop fucking around.

Oh, I'm not fucking around.

All right. Hey, let's go.

W-Wait. Hold up.

Sit your motherfucking ass down.

Hey, Tabitha, what is you doing?

What is you doing? Sit your married ass down!

You get y'all asses down, too!

-Shit. -Everybody, sit down!

Hey, I got the bad boys right here.

Let's get that money.

-Hey, Tab. -Shut the fuck up.

MARCUS: H-Hold up. I'm confused.

You didn't want him to licky-licky?

There's a $5 million bounty on your head.

I need that money. I was just stalling.

That's-that's cold.

He almost did that shit.

He did not, Marcus.

-I told you she didn't like you. -(guns cocking)

Get the fuck up.

(Marcus sighs)

The bounty is dead or alive.

Don't be stupid.

Hey, Armando.

If you live, I'll let you... (moans)

What?

I said, if you live, motherfucker, holla at me!

He was kind of cute.

-Nah. -(laughter)

(phone chimes)

JUDY: We got a tip.

Positive I.D. on our fugitives.

-Let's do this. -(siren blaring)

Ooh. Mike, I'm about to make my move.

Oh, no, the fuck you're not.

You 'bout to go wherever these men are taking us.

Oh, I'm not going.

Now, I'll take the three in the front.

You take the six in the back.

Marcus, we do not have any weapons.

-In five, four, three... -Marcus.

-(heavy gunfire) -(men yelling)

♪ ♪

(tires squeal)

-(bullet ricochets) -(gasps)

(muffled hip-hop music playing)

Ah, shit. This motherfucker.

♪ Fuckboy, fuckboy, whatcha gonna do? ♪

Hey, yo, Mike.

Ain't no fun when the rabbit got the gun, huh?

Wait, you know this guy?

Yeah, I hit him with a hammer a couple years ago.

You think I forgot about that fucking ho shit

you pulled off at Manny's Prime Rib?

How the fuck did I let you two catch me?

MANNY: Mike, I want my five million.

MIKE: Marcus!

You see I got the fam with me-- the streets!

We can do this nice and easy or we can go to war.

'Cause I'm fucking war-ready!

MIKE: What are you doing?

-(engine revs, tires squeal) -MIKE: No!

(groaning)

(grunts)

-Go, go, go, go! -(Marcus groaning)

-(screaming) -Back up! Back up! Back up!

(tires squealing)

MIKE: No! No!

Windshield wiper fluid is flammable!

How the hell am I supposed to know that?

I ain't no damn scientist.

(frantic yelling)

Everybody, relax.

The fire's on the outside.

(gasps)

MARCUS: Oh, shit.

Now it's on the inside.

(gasping, whimpering)

Shit! Okay.

(gasps) Okay.

(sirens blaring)

(panting)

-(bullet ricochets) -(tires squealing)

-Shit! -(horn honking)

Everybody, out! Everybody, out!

(grunting)

(heavy gunfire continues)

(indistinct radio chatter)

(groaning)

Shit.

(panting)

♪ ♪

(banging)

MARCUS: Open the damn door!

MIKE: We can feel you right there, boy. Open the door.

DORN (sighs): Shit.

(laughs): Hey.

-Open up, Muscle Milk. -Come on, man.

-What the fuck is you doing? -Nothing.

It's just not a great time for me right now, guys.

It's not a great time for us, either.

Okay, let's reconvene in like an hour or so.

Babe, we're out of body wash.

-MIKE and MARCUS: Whoa... -Whoa! What the hell?

(chuckles) We found you guys.

(muffled laughter)

We're in a relationship, okay?

-Oh, okay. -All right, yeah, that's...

Sneaking around has been destroying me.

It started about a couple months ago.

It will not affect our professional lives.

Except for that one time in that van.

-I am not sorry. -Nothing to be sorry about.

Yeah, you know, I-I mean, people do that shit.

Are you guys okay?

MIKE: Yeah, we're good. (stammers) Oh.

KELLY: What the fuck?

MIKE: Okay. Whoa, whoa.

Hey, Kelly, Kelly. (stammers)

I asked you to wait outside for a second.

All right. Kelly, he's with us.

He can't be here.

This is my son Armando.

I know who he is, and that's why he can't be here.

I trust you with my life, Mike,

but I sure as shit don't trust him.

I trust him.

Then take him to your house.

(clears throat) Hey, Mike.

Uh, can I have a second with her?

-Yeah, yeah, yeah. Please. -Okay. Hey, sweetie.

Relax. Relax.

DORN: Come here for a sec. Come over here for a sec.

MIKE: I asked you to wait outside.

("Only You (1twofeel Reprise)" by Jay Glavany playing)

KELLY: We could both end up in jail.

♪ Burning in my soul... ♪

DORN: Why don't we give them a chance?

KELLY: Yeah, give them a chance to kill us all? Hmm?

This is some dysfunctional shit.

-DORN: She's fine. -MIKE: All right.

-MARCUS: She don't look fine. -I'm fine.

Yes, you are.

-Hey. All right. -The fuck you say?

-All right. All right. -It's the language barrier.

It was English.

-Uh... -It was definitely English.

Thanks for the drip.

Yeah.

Okay, we're aggregating all the data.

There's over a hundred hours of video, 200 units of audio.

We're indexing all audio, video and geo-located IP network data

to create a sight picture and develop a target package.

Basically, you-you sifting through all this shit to find

-the guilty motherfucker. -Bingo.

Hey, Dorn.

-Yeah. -Can you safely get me into my Ring app?

-Yeah. -I want to see my family.

Yeah, we got our own VPN and router.

-Uh, what's your username? -Marcus37.

And password?

Snickers89.

Almost home, baby.

Hey, let's get to work.

We got a lot to get through here.

So, what exactly are we looking for?

MIKE (voice-over): We're looking for the guy

who ordered the hit on Cap.

Armando can I.D. him.

♪ ♪

HOWARD (voice-over): This fucking bastard

has been my white whale.

For the last nine years, I've been trying

to harpoon the son of a bitch.

But now it's up to you.

♪ ♪

DORN: Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey.

Do I walk into your house and show you how to make cocaine?

Blow it up.

♪ ♪

It's him.

You sure?

ARMANDO: That's the guy that ordered the hit.

Bam. Got a name.

James McGrath.

Army Ranger School, counterintelligence.

(voice-over): Deployed in Mexico until 2005.

Worked with the DEA, Defense Attaché's Office.

Oh, shit. He was taken hostage by...

your friends, the cartel.

Gave up his entire squad "under duress."

It's called torture, man.

DORN: He was the only survivor.

MIKE (voice-over): Cap had him the whole time.

-DORN: Yeah. -He just didn't know it.

Hey.

(cell phone ringing)

Hello.

Hey. It's me.

Damn it, Michael.

Where are you?

Rita, we're coming in.

We got proof that Captain Howard is innocent.

What proof?

We got the guy that had Captain Howard killed.

Armando I.D.'d him.

Same dude that attacked us on the chopper:

James McGrath.

Rita, we got ten years' worth of files.

Cap was investigating these dudes.

We got 'em all. It's a whole network.

We'll surrender to you tomorrow.

Hey, look, we got to go.

Michael, what... (sighs)

You okay?

Uh... (sighs) they're coming in.

What?

Michael says they have proof that exonerates Howard,

explains everything.

-(sighs) -Do you still love him?

What?

No.

-But I believe him. -(sighs)

Just be careful, babe.

-Still going to dinner? -Yeah.

(sighs)

McGRATH (voice-over): They have the files.

We need to make this look like cartel business-- Spanish only.

(busy chatter)

(man in Spanish)

Shit, shit, shit!

We need some sleep.

Hey, guys, we got a problem.

DORN: Miami Central, Miami Central.

29 in progress at 3878 Sunshine Avenue.

MARCUS: Oh, shit. That's my house.

MIKE: Shit.

DORN: Please advise, MOS residence.

Respond forthwith.

Fuck. Fuck.

Come on, Christine.

(vibrating)

Oh, shit. Get a unit over to my house.

-Come on, Reggie. Pick up! -DORN: Miami Central, we have

-another 29 in progress. -Pick up. Pick up.

DORN: Please send units

to Detective Lowrey's home address.

(cell phone ringing)

VIDEO GAME CHARACTER: Enemy's down!

MARCUS (over phone): Reggie.

You got incoming.

Get the family to somewhere safe.

-What? -Now!

Yes, sir.

-Come on! -Hey, what's happening? Is anybody...

-REGGIE: There's people coming in the house. -Okay.

-(frantic chatter) -I got to keep y'all safe. Come here.

(beeping)

-Please be careful. -Okay, Reggie, what's happening?

-Trust me. I love you. -Okay, honey.

Fuck. Fuck.

(vibrating)

(grunting and groaning)

Behi... Behind you, Reg!

-Oh! Sh... -Oh, damn!

(grunting and groaning continue)

Who the fuck is this guy?

That's my boy! That's my boy.

Ooh.

Damn. (exhales sharply)

Come on, come on, come on.

-(gunfire continues) -(both screaming)

Ooh.

No, no, no.

-Whoa! -Oh, shit.

(yelling, grunting)

Come on, come on.

(screams)

(grunting)

-MARCUS: Whoo! -DORN: Holy shit.

(shuddering breaths)

-(both screaming) -(gunshot)

MARCUS (voice-over): Oh!

Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, motherfuckers!

Me snacks is your snacks, Reggie!

-REGGIE: All right, come on. -(panicked gasping)

(gasps) Mike, did you see that shit?

MIKE: Pick up the phone.

Whoa, Mike. Mike! Mike!

-(cell phone vibrating) -(knocking on glass)

CHRISTINE: One second.

-Callie. -I saw it on TV.

My mom is after Uncle Mike.

There is no way that he did everything that they're saying.

Sweetheart.

Everything is going to be okay.

-Okay. -Okay?

Okay?

(cell phone vibrating)

Hello?

It's me. Get out of the house.

I've got Callie with me.

Take her and go. Get out now!

(whistling)

CHRISTINE: Callie, get behind me.

Mike.

(heavy, shuddering breaths)

(Callie yelps)

Christine!

(groaning)

Mr. Lowrey.

Who am I speaking to?

I think you know who you're speaking to.

I need your boy.

And whatever evidence your beloved captain

had squirreled away.

And for that, you can have your wife.

I'll call you back with instructions.

-(phone beeps) -Ah, shit.

(groans)

Goddamn it.

-(Mike groaning) -I'll go.

Let my life be worth something.

Never.

Never.

(ragged breathing)

(heavy, ragged breathing)

MARCUS: Mike.

He knew.

What do you mean?

He knew we were coming in.

He knew we had Captain Howard's files.

He knew we had I.D.'d him.

How?

Only person you spoke to was Rita.

It's not Rita.

Damn, she got bad taste in men.

-(ringing) -TV REPORTER: ...Justice has been

investigating the corruption of

the Miami Police Department with reports suggesting

the late Captain Conrad Howard...

-Hello? -...directed these elements

in coordination with the cartels.

Allegations against Howard, which look to include

Lowrey and Burnett in the operation,

range from helping cartels move product

into the state of Florida

as well as giving up key witnesses,

destruction of evidence

and even the murder of fellow officer...

-What's going on? -I don't know.

There's been a breakthrough in the case.

I need to get down to the station.

I'm gonna head down there.

I'm coming with you.

(elevator bell dings)

(Rita sighs)

(Lockwood takes deep breath)

Who are you texting?

Ah, just, um, just...

just got to get in touch with the office, JTF.

Got to let everybody know.

Hey. Honey. Come on.

(laughing): Honey, what are you doing? Stop that.

What are you doing? Stop it.

-Let go of me. -Come on. What are you doing?

Give it back to me. Give it back!

(both breathing heavily)

(grunting and groaning)

(both straining)

-(muffled thump) -(Rita yelps)

(gasping)

(screams)

(Lockwood grunting)

(elevator bell dings)

KELLY: Fuck.

-(Lockwood groans) -DORN: Hey, hey, hey, come on.

-Come on. Come on. -(Kelly grunting)

You okay?

RITA: Look at the phone.

(Rita coughing)

♪ ♪

You know you done fucked up, right?

You all right?

(Rita sighs)

I'm sorry.

Ain't got nothing to be sorry for.

(indistinct chatter)

We'll find her, boss.

I don't trust anybody

that's not standing right here right now.

Every extra person that we involve

increases the likelihood that they know we're coming,

which increases the likelihood

that Christine and Callie don't make it out of there.

That means no SWAT,

no Marshals, no backup.

It's just us.

(sighs)

I never meant for it to go this way.

How did you mean it to go?

After 9/11, nobody cared about drugs coming into this country.

So, to secure the borders,

we started to work with the cartels.

And they kept us informed about

any terrorist activity coming our way.

And it worked.

We haven't had an attack since.

We were protecting this country.

You were killing cops and getting rich

putting drugs into this country.

(chuckling): Rita.

That's why you killed Howard.

He was onto you.

You wanted to cover your tracks.

No. That was McGrath.

He's out of control.

Rita, just take a second.

I never meant for any of this to go this way.

I guess I just need to know if it was ever real.

It was always real.

I panicked.

I lost control.

Did you love me?

Yes.

I swear.

Well, that means...

MIKE: We're good. We got it.

99% voice match.

...absolutely nothing to me, you piece of shit.

-(tape tearing) -(muffled grunting)

♪ ♪

(busy chatter)

LOCKWOOD (over phone): Hey. It's me.

McGRATH: What the hell's going on?

You screwed up is what's going on.

MIKE and LOCKWOOD'S VOICE: We've been compromised.

I'll explain when I get there.

LOCKWOOD'S VOICE: We're moving the hostages.

Cuba, long-term hold...

MIKE and LOCKWOOD'S VOICE: ...to keep Lowrey, Burnett

and Aretas quiet while we sort this out.

I'm bringing a seaplane.

I'll be there at first light.

All right, pack this place up.

All equipment and personnel, prepare to move.

We're moving the hostages out of the country.

(busy chatter)

What happened to your hand?

They call that a Colombian manicure.

(yelling in pain)

McGRATH: What's so great about it

is it's the maximum amount of pain, but you don't die.

(shuddering, breathing heavily)

So now you've decided to be the one holding the pliers.

Everybody breaks.

Everyone.

Your husband is gonna kneel down in front of me

and beg for your lives.

And then you're gonna watch me kill him.

You don't know my husband.

Well, not officially, but...

I look forward to seeing him again.

♪ ♪

MARCUS: ♪ Bad boys, bad boys ♪

("Bad Boys" by Inner Circle): ♪ Bad boys... ♪

Mm-mm.

Come on, Mike.

-♪ Bad boys, bad boys ♪ -♪ Bad boys... ♪

♪ Whatcha gonna do? ♪

Yeah.

BOTH: ♪ Whatcha gonna do when they come for you? ♪

(scatting)

That-that's enough, dawg. That's enough.

Okay, well, we'll circle back on that one.

♪ Bad boys, bad boys, whatcha gonna do? ♪

♪ Whatcha gonna do when they come for you? ♪

♪ Bad boys, bad boys, whatcha gonna do... ♪

All right, the plane is ready. We roll in 20.

(voice-over): It's an abandoned amusement park.

There should be no civilians.

Plane is gonna land from the south

on the one side.

Marcus and I will be on the plane.

Armando's gonna make his way in the water-- the two side.

Kelly, Rita, this road is one way in, one way out.

You're holding that road.

Dorn, you're gonna control the air.

DORN (voice-over): Drones in the air.

Jamming is active. Comms are secure.

As far as they know, Lockwood is on his way with the plane

to move the hostages to Cuba.

The second they get close to the plane with the hostages,

it's quick kills.

Neutralize all threats.

These motherfuckers killed a lot of good cops.

They have my wife. They have Callie.

They attacked our families.

We're not losing today.

♪ Bad boys ♪

MIKE: Hey.

We get on the ground, you even flinch,

you'll be dead in .24 seconds.

I concur.

PILOT: I got one lookout on the platform outside.

I got one sniper on the roof of building two.

Tee those up.

Everybody, keep moving.

-What are those? -Gators.

I thought it was an abandoned gator park.

Abandoned by humans.

DORN: It's actually an old amusement park.

It sat on ten acres.

Abandoned in 2017 after Hurricane Irma.

DORN (over radio): Their main attraction was

an albino alligator named Duke,

who was 16 feet long, 900 pounds.

"And legend has it he's still there"?

Fuck that.

Armando's at his QTH.

♪ ♪

DORN: Hostages are coming out now.

McGrath plus three.

Everybody, stay calm.

MIKE (sighs): All right.

(Mike breathing heavily)

-Mike. -(heavy breathing continues)

Mike, do you have the shot?

MIKE: Negative. I do not have a shot.

I do not have a shot. (continues breathing heavily)

-Mike, he's right there. -I don't have it.

I don't have it.

(breathing sharply)

They stopped. Why'd they stop?

(growling)

(wood creaking)

(growling)

Shit.

Let's go.

(growling)

Armando, they're closing in on you.

-Do they see him? -I don't know.

Mike, now. Your chance is now.

(over radio): They can see him. They know we're here.

(Mike breathing sharply)

MIKE: I don't have it. Negative. Negative. Negative.

You got to take the fucking shot.

♪ ♪

(groaning)

(alligator snarling)

Armando's burnt.

Shit.

Full green! Engage!

Kelly, get us there. Go, go, go!

(gunfire)

Contact, west dock side.

(grunts) Sh...

(gasps)

-(gunfire continues) -(gasping, grunting)

-Dorn, take out that sniper! -Shit.

Sending the drone.

Got him.

(breathing heavily)

(muffled, distorted gunfire)

(heavy breathing continues)

(distorted): Not now, Mike!

Not now!

-(gunfire continues) -(pained grunting)

(heavy breathing continues)

It's okay.

Not your fault.

MARCUS: Cut that bitch-ass shit out, Mike!

I need Nasty Mike. Nasty Mike!

Bad shit happens, but that doesn't mean you're bad.

-Do that donkey shit, a'ight? -(growling)

That's what I'm talking about. That shit right there.

That's that shit right there.

Bad boy! Bad boy!

Bad Boy Mike! All right?

♪ You're the Big Bad Wolf in the neighborhood ♪

BOTH: ♪ Not bad meaning bad but bad meaning good ♪

(both yelling)

("Peter Piper" by Run DMC): ♪ There it is... ♪

(yelling continues)

-Mike! (grunting) -(projectile whistling)

(grunts, yells)

MIKE: Dorn, take out the vehicles on the four side.

Copy.

♪ There it is ♪

-♪ There it is ♪ -(song ends)

-Go! Go! Move! -(urgent chatter)

NICOLE: Sir! We're taking heavies.

We lost the trucks and three guys outside.

Goddamn it!

(Christine and Callie grunting, whimpering)

Set firing positions, both sides.

-Let 'em in. -Go.

MAN (over radio): Marshal Howard, heat signature

at the site of the AMMO van is showing explosions.

ETA 15 minutes.

MIKE: Dorn, we need cover, and we need eyes inside. Go now.

Here comes the smoke.

DORN (over radio): I got your six.

♪ ♪

(frantic shouting)

-Move, move, move! -Eyes up!

Oh, shit!

It's like redneck Jurassic Park in here.

♪ ♪

Let's get out of here now.

Kelly, go.

Dorn, back up Kelly inside.

I'm going after Lockwood.

Babe, I'm coming.

(gunfire)

Armando, go for Callie!

CHRISTINE: Let go!

Mike!

MIKE: Marcus!

(groans)

(yells)

(men groaning)

MIKE: Go!

(men groaning)

MARCUS: I'm out!

(screams)

(grunts)

(groaning)

(panting)

(Christine panting)

(pained grunting)

-Nice to meet you, Mr. Lowrey. -(whimpering)

Grenade!

(groaning, panting)

♪ ♪

LOCKWOOD: Holy shit!

PILOT: Hang on!

(groans)

(airplane engine buzzing)

(screams)

(distorted grunting, yelling)

CHRISTINE: Stop! (groans)

MIKE: Christine!

(whimpers)

MIKE: Christine!

Shit.

(grunts)

-Oh, shit. -(glass crackling)

Mike, I got this!

-No. No, no. -Here I come, baby!

-Here I come! -No, no, no!

(groaning)

(gasping)

(grunting, panting)

Marcus!

-What? -Behind you.

Oh, shit.

I got this, Mike. (chuckles)

It's just Dukey, baby.

(growls)

Marcus, my gun. I dropped my gun in the water.

-It's by your foot. -I don't need no gun, Mike.

Begone, gator.

This is not your place, Duke.

I rebuke you.

See, Mike?

That's how you command the universe.

-(vicious snarling) -(Marcus screams)

(grunting)

-(gasping) Oh, shit! -The gun. Where's the gun?

(Marcus groaning)

Go, go, go, go.

That motherfucker racist, Mike.

-Go. Go. -That motherfucker racist.

(grunting)

Mike sent me.

I need you to trust me.

(Callie panting)

(Callie yelps)

(groans)

(Callie yells)

(grunting and groaning)

Run. Run!

(grunting and groaning continue)

(Callie squeals, groans)

(screams)

(gasping)

(groaning)

(screams, whimpers)

(panting)

(grunts)

(breath trembling)

(breathing heavily)

Come on. Come on. Get up.

(Callie panting)

(Marcus breathing heavily)

(groaning)

-(panting gruffly) -CHRISTINE: No!

(grunts)

(Christine yells)

Go. I'll slow you down.

Eyes on location.

(groaning)

(grunting)

Oh, shit.

You alive?

(grunts, groans)

Shit. Okay. Hey.

Rita, stop this.

You don't want to shoot me.

You're right.

(breathing heavily)

(grunts, yells)

(grunting)

(gasping)

(screams)

(muffled screaming)

-Ow! Ow. -Come here.

-Okay, okay. It's okay. -Ow.

-I fucking hate politicians. -Shh.

(siren blaring)

-JUDY: Let's move! -SOLDIER: Go, go!

♪ ♪

(indistinct chatter)

(sighs)

CALLIE (panting): Okay. Okay, here.

-ARMANDO: Put me down. -Okay.

-It's okay. -You okay?

-Yeah. Yeah. -Okay.

Hey.

Thank you.

(panting)

(thunder crashes)

I've been here before.

Oh, shit.

(Christine breathing heavily)

(McGrath whistles)

MIKE: How did you let him catch you?

He's sneaky as hell, Mike.

McGRATH: Your wife and I were having a debate.

She seems to have an inflated impression of you.

-Mike. -Hey, bae.

Nevertheless, this is the end of the road.

One of them is about to die.

-(whimpers) -You choose.

What you don't know, Mr. McGrath,

is one of 'em can't die.

Who you talking 'bout?

A wise man told me I was gonna have to make a hard choice.

You need to check with that motherfucker

before you out here choosing shit.

McGRATH: You have five seconds, Mr. Lowrey.

We gonna need some more time, sir.

Four, three...

Mike, don't you do no dumb shit.

...two...

(groans)

(grunts)

(groaning)

(sobbing)

-Mike. Mike. -Hey. Hey. I'm here.

Motherfucker done shot me.

-Oh, damn. -Here.

-No, Mike. -Okay. Just let me check it.

-Let me see. -Your donkey ass shot me again.

-Let me look at it. Just... -Don't touch me

with your donkey hooves, Mike.

-Just... Look, what you... -Damn, man.

Listen, I had to fucking take the shot.

-No, Mike. No. -Marcus.

Let me take a look, Marcus.

You see that shit, Christine?

Look, I shot you in your vest.

-Stop bitching. -It don't matter, okay?

You see what you done devoted your life to, Christine?

JUDY (over radio): I've got eyes on Aretas.

-Moving in. -Shit. That's Judy.

Armando, do you copy?

(over radio): Armando, do you copy?

Shit.

CALLIE: Mom!

Mom, don't.

Get away from her.

-CALLIE: Mom. -Now!

Mom, listen to me. You don't understand.

Callie, I need you to listen to me.

I want you to step slowly to your right

and walk towards me.

Mom, Mom, I'm fine, okay?

Callie, I need you to move out of the way.

Mom.

Mom, don't shoot! Don't shoot!

Mom, he saved me. Stop!

Judy! Judy!

-Back off, Mike! -Judy. Judy.

Put the gun down!

He saved my life.

Please, Mom.

(breath trembling)

(sniffles)

(Judy exhales sharply)

(gasping)

Are you hit? Are you hit?

I'm good.

You good?

You did good. You did good.

HIRSHBERG (over radio): Howard, where are you?

Howard, do you copy?

Howard, what's your location?

Go.

Before I change my mind.

Let's go. Let's go. Let's go.

(both grunting)

Here. You good? You good?

Hey. Take this.

Head south.

-Don't look back. -Hey.

I got it.

Be good.

It's not up to you, Detective.

♪ ♪

(engine starts)

♪ ♪

Come on, come on. We got injured cops here.

And you, I need you to bring the writ to me now.

-(Dorn groaning) -KELLY: I know, I know, I know.

-How is he? -You know, pulling through.

DORN: Ow.

(busy chatter)

♪ ♪

Don't kiss him, Christine.

Mike, in our next life,

you coming back as a pair of my shoes.

And I ain't gonna wear no socks,

and I'm-a step in all kind of shit.

REPORTER (voice-over): Miami DA and mayoral candidate

Adam Lockwood and former Army Ranger James McGrath

were killed this morning in a firefight in the Florida Keys.

REPORTER 2: It is believed that Lockwood and McGrath were

the key links between Miami law enforcement and cartels...

REPORTER 3: The late Captain Howard

has been fully exonerated.

Coconspirators are currently being rounded up

by the FBI and the Miami PD.

REPORTER 4: The search for convicted killer

Armando Aretas continues.

The fugitive remains at large.

("Salsa" by BLKCITY playing)

♪ How I always end up in the same club... ♪

-MIKE: Hey, hey, hey. -DORN and CHRISTINE: Hey.

-MIKE: My people. -CHRISTINE: Where's Theresa?

She's with Little Marcus by the swings.

Hey. I'm about to hook y'all up.

-I'm about to hook you up. -Please. We're starving.

Watch this.

Partner.

What's all this?

What... Why you got on an apron?

Work on my grill skills.

No, Mike, you got to earn the grill.

This takes seasonings and temperatures.

You can't just be cooking on my grill.

Your grill? Joker, this is a public park.

You don't own every grill you see.

You know what, Mike?

Why don't you go make some potato salad and set the table.

Oh, you talking dirty.

Now, look, I-I don't know what you got going on

with your barbecue dictatorship in your mind,

but I ain't the one.

I'm cooking on this grill whether you like it or not.

-Hey, Mike... -Excuse me, sirs.

You're not...

Why you... What you doing, Reggie?

Request permission to cook my chicken.

(Mike and Marcus laughing)

Permission denied, Reggie. Go ahead somewhere, man.

Take your smock off and go play with the kids.

Listen, this is the... this is the man area

of the-the barbecue.

-Yeah. -Look, you know what?

All due respect, we appreciate

that you did save people that we love.

-We appreciate that, right? -Yeah, we appreciate that.

-We appreciate that from here, Reggie. -Yeah.

-Now, back the fuck up. -Yeah.

All right, look, I'm-I'm willing to compromise with you.

You can work that half of the grill-- it's small--

and I'll work this half, but...

Is he still standing there?

Yes, he is.

Huh. That's weird.

Yeah.

He think he hard now.

You need to let that motherfucker know

he ain't cooking no chicken out here today.

Mike, he killed 15 people at the house.

So you not gonna handle this shit?

Yeah, I'm gonna let that motherfucker cook the chicken.

Yeah, there's something weird in his eyes.

Uh, so I'm-a make the potato salad.

-I'm-a set the table. -Yeah.

Permission granted, Reggie. There you go.

♪ But you would've been madder if I changed up ♪

♪ ♪

(song ends)

("Tonight" by Black Eyed Peas, Becky G and El Alfa playing)

♪ Because tonight, tonight, tonight ♪

♪ Oh-oh ♪

♪ I'm gonna make it right tonight, tonight ♪

♪ Oh-oh ♪

♪ Because tonight, tonight, tonight ♪

♪ Oh-oh ♪

♪ I'm gonna make it right tonight, tonight ♪

♪ Oh-oh ♪

♪ Uno, dos, go ♪

♪ Tonight, tonight ♪

-♪ Tonight, tonight ♪ -♪ Whoo, whoo ♪

♪ Tonight ♪

♪ Oh-oh ♪

♪ Dale, dale, go ♪

♪ We about to take flight ♪

♪ Like Hubble Telescope satellite ♪

♪ Insomniac, we gonna work it all night ♪

♪ Maniac, nah, we don't party light ♪

♪ Hit 'em hard like a heavyweight fight ♪

♪ Knock 'em out kinda like Iron Mike ♪

♪ We stay bad boys for life ♪

♪ Don't worry about a thing 'cause it's a'ight ♪

♪ Yo quiero una modelo pa' tonight, tonight ♪

♪ Que en la cama la pasamos nice ♪

♪ Conmigo ella grita guay, pero no somos unos nai ♪

♪ El dominicano que la pone loca, que le va a gustai ♪

♪ Yo tengo la cone que a ustedes les hace falta ♪

♪ El baja panty, el que los tigres espanta ♪

♪ Rodando en el Lambo soy la volanta ♪

♪ Todos los culos que yo tengo son una planta ♪

♪ Because tonight, tonight, tonight ♪

♪ Oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh ♪

♪ I'm gonna make it right tonight, tonight ♪

♪ Oh-oh ♪

♪ Dale, dale, go ♪

♪ You only live one life, never two ♪

♪ Shoot your shot, don't miss when you do ♪

♪ Esta noche nadie nos para ♪

♪ Tonight is the night, you know that I'm ♪

♪ Buscando algo to get into ♪

♪ Juega bien las cartas y serás tú ♪

♪ Tenemos varios en el to-do ♪

♪ Tryin' to ride topless like my favorite coupe ♪

♪ Here we go again, 'bout to get it, get it in tonight ♪

♪ No offense, only messin' with the ten tonight ♪

♪ Baby, me and my friends 'bout to win tonight ♪

♪ Pray for me, forgive me for my sins tonight ♪

♪ No need to pretend tonight ♪

♪ Authentic, go 100% tonight ♪

♪ And tonight we gon' make it right ♪

♪ And do it better than we did last night ♪

♪ Because tonight, tonight, tonight ♪

♪ Oh-oh ♪

♪ I'm gonna make it right tonight, tonight ♪

♪ Oh-oh ♪

♪ Because tonight, tonight, tonight ♪

♪ Oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh ♪

♪ I'm gonna make it right tonight, tonight ♪

-♪ Oh-oh ♪ -(song ends)

("Lights Out" by Bia and JID): ♪ When the lights out ♪

♪ Still can see me shining, I'm a lighthouse ♪

♪ Lights out, are you ready? ♪

♪ Are you ready, are you ready? ♪

♪ When it's dark out ♪

♪ I'll show you the way 'cause I'm a lighthouse ♪

♪ Lights out, are you ready? ♪

♪ Are you ready, are you ready? ♪

♪ Uh, I'm as ready as I'll ever be ♪

♪ Doing things that better me ♪

♪ How you supposed to make it out the block ♪

♪ If you don't never leave? ♪

♪ How you supposed to make it out the job ♪

♪ If you don't never see big? ♪

♪ Picture all those wolves out here made of sheepskin ♪

♪ French tips to my toes down to the cuticle ♪

♪ Life's hard, but it's beautiful ♪

♪ I've been letting go of people ♪

♪ I done made excuses for ♪

♪ I'm just human, though ♪

♪ I think I need more light than usual ♪

♪ When the lights out ♪

♪ Still can see me shining, I'm a lighthouse ♪

♪ Lights out, are you ready? ♪

♪ Are you ready, are you ready? ♪

♪ Lights out ♪

♪ ♪

-♪ Lights out ♪ -(song ends)

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

(audio slows to a stop)

(audio playing in reverse)

(birds chirping)

(donkey braying)

Come on.

Bring your ass on.

It's too hot out here for this shit.

Wish I had a horse.

At least I could ride that motherfucker.

All this free air out here,

and I still smell your stinking ass.

I curse you, donkey.

I curse you for all lifetimes.

-(braying loudly) -Oh!

You mother--

MIKE'S VOICE: Fuck you, Marcus.