Ask any towheaded schoolboy how many senses we got,
and it's likely they're gonna say five.
Five?
You kidding me?
What about my sense of balance, entitlement, fair play?
The problem is five is about the most our tiny little brains can handle.
But sometimes we have SO many senses cluttering us up,
so many ways to feel about a thing, we blow a fuse.
And what's that lead to?
Senseless violence.
Yeah. Senseless violence.
It comes in all shapes and colours.
For a second day, riots have rocked the east side of the city,
ignited by Governor Devlin's comment
that he would pardon Mayor Wilson Loewen
if Loewen is convicted for his role
in the 1963 murder of two small African-American girls.
In response to the rioting, city schools and offices are closed.
All state correctional facilities are under tight security.
A verdict is expected sometime this week.
Guard. Guard!
No.
Your father was stabbed with an ice pick.
Once in the back, several times in the stomach.
Who? Who murdered my dad?
We're investigating,
searching cells for evidence, for the murder weapon.
Man, this is bullshit.
I wanna go to the funeral.
I'm sorry. We can't permit that. We're in lockdown.
But, warden,
my parole hearing is tomorrow,
and there's a fairly good chance that I'm gonna go free anyway.
Because of the riots your hearing's been postponed.
Guess what we found.
But why would Clarence Seroy kill my father?
I don't know Seroy. It makes no sense.
This is Oz, Beecher. Nothing makes sense.
Maybe it's these riots. There's a lot of racial tension out there.
No. More likely,
the Aryans hired Seroy
or planted the ice pick in his cell to throw Glynn off.
This is fucking Schillinger's doing.
Killing Beecher's father, man, what a rush.
Better than a case of Red Bull.
The fucking hacks haven't a clue who did the deed.
Hey, Clarence. How's it going?
Man, this is bullshit.
They'll never figure out who really did it.
Shut the fuck up.
The jury found Mayor Wilson Loewen guilty of murder in the second degree.
Fuck!
I believe that Mayor Loewen is innocent,
and I believe that this trial was a mockery of justice.
However, due to the volatility of this situation,
I will not pardon him.
I won't pardon him yet.
We'll let the smoke clear, wait a few months,
and then we'll get him out.
Why send him here?
Put Loewen in a nice, cushy minimum-security prison
like Hecht or MacArthur.
That won't placate the mob. They want the mayor to suffer.
The most important thing is to keep him safe.
What's the safest place in this charnel house?
Unit J. Primarily, we put bad cops there
so they don't face retaliation by the rest of the community.
- Who's in that cell block now? - Alvin Yood, Tobias Beecher.
Are either of them black?
No.
Okay.
Well, hear this.
Wilson Loewen is my friend.
Anything happens to him, Leo, anything,
1 will burn this building to the ground.
Mayor Loewen.
Hello, Leo.
The last time I saw you was at the big fundraiser in Morrisville,
back when you were running for lieutenant governor.
We brought in a shitload of cash that night, huh?
I was disappointed when you dropped out of the race.
I always thought you had the makings of a fine politician.
Look, whatever relationship we may have had in the past,
that's over.
You're my prisoner now.
That simple, huh?
Or do you think I actually killed those little girls?
You were found guilty.
Well, as a black man
you ought to know that don't mean dick.
Take His Honour to Unit J.
Thank you, friend.
The streets are once again calm,
though damage to the east side due to the rioting
is estimated at $13.7 million.
- Lockdown is over. - About fucking time.
Phelan, where'd they put Wilson Loewen?
Don't know. Probably Unit J.
- J? Shit. - Let me the fuck out.
- Shut up, Cutler. I'm coming.
Beecher's in J.
He'll try to hurt the mayor to get back at me.
I want you to put the word out, Winthrop. I want Beecher to know
he better not touch a hair on the old man's head.
We were in the Oval Office, and the President says to me:
"Wilson, if it weren't for you, I wouldn't be sitting in this chair."
And he gave me these cufflinks. See? Got the presidential seal on them.
Mr. Mayor, you're the only one I know with a bigger appetite than me.
Appetite. Yeah, for power.
I hear you're not gonna resign.
You're forcing city council to vote you out?
Well, the Honourable James Michael Curley
served the good people of Boston while he was incarcerated.
Hell, he even won reelection while sitting in stir.
I could do the same thing. The people love me.
- I might run for governor. - Hell, why not run for God?
What the hell?
Jesus.
- How're you doing? Can you talk? - Oh, yeah, I'm all right.
- I just choked on... - Just relax, just relax.
He gave him the Heimlich manoeuvre.
- He what? - Beecher saved Loewen's life.
What does Schillinger want with me?
I think it's better if he tells you himself.
I don't wanna hear more of his lies. This is probably just some trap
to fuck with my parole hearing tomorrow.
I'll admit Schillinger has conned me in the past, same as you, but I...
This time it's different.
Beecher.
What do you want?
Wilson Loewen has always been there for my family,
for me.
When my pop couldn't find work, he gave him a job in the parks.
When Martha and I couldn't afford a honeymoon,
he gave us airline tickets.
The man is my hero. You saved his life.
I am now indebted to you.
So I want you to know
that I won't do anything to try and stop your parole.
If you can get out of this fuckhole,
go.
Bullshit.
Whatever you're selling, Vern, I'm not buying.
You grateful to me?
- It's true. - True?
I can give you a list as big as my tattooed ass
of things you said were true.
- Do I have to stay here? - No.
Beecher, if my backing off wasn't what you were after,
why'd you save Loewen?
Because
I saw a man dying.
And my instinct was to save his life,
my gut instinct.
After all these years in Oz,
I still have that instinct.
That's something you don't know shit about.
Due to recent circumstances, the death of your father,
your saving a fellow inmate's life,
as well as your continued outstanding behaviour,
the board has decided to grant you parole.
You're a free man, Mr. Beecher.
The processing takes a few days,
but for all intents and purposes, you are free.
- Thank you. - Good luck.
Pinch me, Sister. I'm dreaming again.
No, Tobias. You are not dreaming.
- Oh, my goodness. - Holy fucking Christ.
Oh, my God!
Oh, my God.
Yo, Lopresti. My lawyer was supposed to be here an hour ago.
Can you call down and find out what's going on?
You haven't heard?
- Heard what? - I got good news, and I got bad news.
The bad news is Beecher's father's dead.
No.
The day we went into lockdown, murdered right down the hall.
I guess that puts a kink in your appeal.
What's the good news?
Your girlfriend got paroled.
That's right.
Beecher's going home.
And from what I hear, he's in such a hurry to leave,
he won't even have time to come say bye-bye.
You know, they say
when one of your senses fails,
the other ones compensate by getting stronger.
Like if you go blind, your hearing suddenly perks up.
Can't smell? Your taste buds bloom.
So, what happens if you lost them all,
if things no longer make any sense?
You've got to rely on others to get you through the day.
And in Oz that could be dangerous.
- Rise and shine, you little fucks! - Come on, come on.
Get up.
- I can't, I'm sick. - Bullshit.
If you think you're taking a siesta in the hospital
just because White did, you're in for a rude awakening.
Now get the fuck up.
- Jesus. - Claire.
We got a problem over here.
What the fuck is this, Ebola?
Fuck you, Martinez.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. "Cha-cha-cha" yourself, Carlos.
Fuck you, all right?
You better calm down, Mr. Martinez, or I will put you in restraints.
What is he, the nurse's pet?
Glynn. Nathan won't give me more painkillers.
So? Call the AMA.
What's the emergency?
Penders, White and Martinez have methylene-chloride poisoning.
- Did someone poison them? - Not someone, us.
- What? - Oz, itself.
Methylene chloride's found in aerosols, paint removers,
metal-cleaning products, polyurethane.
Basically everything that was used to rebuild this place.
And guess where all the residue settled.
In solitary. Shit.
So, what's the prognosis?
Well, when caught early,
treatable respiratory and gastric problems.
But these guys, it's all they've been breathing in 24 hours a day.
Martinez's liver is shot. Penders and White have lung damage,
I mean, to say nothing of the neurophysiological effects.
These guys are gonna get crazy?
Or it may make them sane.
But Martinez needs treatment I can't provide.
I'd like to send them to Benchley Memorial.
- No. - Well, he'll get better care.
For the moment, let's keep this close to home.
- Leo. - I don't think we need
to spread the word just yet that Oz is toxic.
- Well, then I wanna go on record. - You're a good doctor, Gloria.
You saved Pancamo after he caught a staph infection.
We didn't go public with that, did we?
I have faith that you'll pull these guys through too.
- Don't you knock? - Sorry.
Didn't think you'd be doing anything that needed knocking.
I'm here to transfer Martinez back to solitary.
He's not going back.
- That's what the paperwork says. - 1 don't care.
Unless you get Glynn to tell me different, Martinez is going.
I'll be right back.
Excuse me.
So.
What ails you, Martinez, huh?
You gonna die?
Oh, I love it when you go all silent on me.
But I don't want you to die,
at least not till you tell me who paid you to cut my tendon.
And you will tell me, Carlos,
because I have friends in solitary. When you get back, they're gonna--
I have the warden on the phone in my office, Line 3.
Hey. Hey.
You two make a really cute pair.
Jackhammer Miss Sally style. And side, and side, and three.
Add more and do-si-do, and four and five,
and side, and two and three.
This is the best Miss Sally ever.
And jump it out, and work those legs...
Officer Murphy. I got an ask.
- I'm in no mood to be tender, Morales. - I wanna shift jobs.
I've been working at mechanical since I got to Oz. I need a change.
- To where? - I'm thinking hospital.
I got a couple pals who are orderlies. I thought maybe I could do some good.
Some good for yourself, you mean.
What do you think, I'm an idiot?
Your pal Martinez is in the ward,
recuperating from something he caught in solitary.
Carlos is in the hospital? I didn't know that.
I made it a priority of mine to keep you and Martinez
as far away from each other as possible.
That is, until Martinez admits
that you ordered him to attack Dave Brass.
That old song of yours again?
Yeah, and when he does, you're doing down.
You're going down, down, down to the lowest pit with no bottom.
Fine, I'll just ask McManus for the transfer.
- You go do that. - I will.
- Yeah. Bye. - Yeah. Bye.
What if Martinez jabbers on me?
He hasn't yet. He never will.
Well, "now" and "never” is not the same thing, Chico.
Being in solitary can wear a man down.
And if Carlos is sick,
the hacks will withhold the medicines until he turns.
What could we do?
Kill him.
Enrique, no, he's one of us.
Yeah,
but for how long?
Lights out.
A lot of times when a woman gets pregnant,
her sense of smell changes for the worse.
Suddenly, roses are putrid.
And freshly baked bread,
jeez, it's more like ammonia.
Epileptics got something similar.
They can often tell when they're about to do a backflip,
because they start to smell things that aren't there.
So at least they got a chance to sit down before the seizure hits.
With pregnancy and epilepsy,
you've got a pretty good sense of impending doom.
Too bad we've got no sense of how to avoid it.
- I'm here to work, Stella. - Hi, Robert. Give me a hand?
I need you to take the book cart around today.
- William Blake. - That's right.
It's the cover to
- Songs of Experience. - Songs of Experience.
I never expected to find a Blake fan in here.
I'm sorry, I have to ask: Why are you here?
Why would you work in Oz as opposed to some city library
where you wouldn't be surprised to find a Blake fan?
Well, one day about a year ago, I was home taking a shower
and I heard a noise.
I came out of the bathroom,
and there was this kid standing in the hallway
with my DVD player.
There I am, au naturel,
and though I consider my body a beautiful sight,
the kid freaks and jumps out the window.
He twists his ankle.
Couple minutes later, the police pick him up.
It seems he's robbed other people as well.
So I go downtown to testify at some pretrial thing,
and there's the kid, Germaine,
so small, so sweet, sitting next to his mother.
I think, "He's going to jail."
Then I think, "Christ, he can have my DVD player."
- You could have dropped the charges. - 1 did, but everyone else held firm.
I went and visited Germaine at juvenile detention,
and I said to him, "Why aren't you in school?"
- And you know what he told me? - He couldn't read.
It broke my heart.
I went to Plymouth House every week and taught him,
and he took to words like a plant to rain.
His mind was so sharp, so alive, so thirsty.
That's wonderful.
He got stabbed and died.
And even though I knew there were others like him in Plymouth,
I couldn't go back.
I also knew I couldn't stop what I'd started.
So...
You came to a place filled with old books and bad attitudes.
The truth is, Robert, every book on these shelves is new
to someone who hasn't read it.
You know, Blake, he said:
"There is a moment in each day that Satan cannot find."
That's right.
You know what my ultimate goal is?
To make that moment last a lifetime.
Hey, Rebadow, man, I'll take a novel.
- Which one? - 1 don't know.
A long one. I'm out of toilet paper.
Hey. Agamemnon?
Recommend something?
You got any pop-up books? I love pop-up books.
- No. - Then I'm not interested.
Reading confuses me.
Agamemnon.
I know what you're gonna ask. The answer is no.
Come on.
This is the third straight visiting day Norma's come.
Then tell her to stop.
I got nothing to say to the woman who left me at the altar
and then, wham, boom, shows up a couple of months later
carrying some other Joe's child.
Don't you even wanna know if she's doing okay, if the child is?
Well, I'm assuming they are.
Fine, assume away.
Why, is there something wrong?
Stop yanking my chain, McManus. Is Norma all right?
Ask her yourself.
- So Norma was here again today? - So we're both in prison?
Excuse me?
I'm sorry. I thought we were asking questions
that we already knew the answers to.
I think you should see her.
I was talking to Stella about it and--
What's Stella have to do with anything?
She's a very smart woman.
She reminded me of a Blake passage:
Some are born to sweet delight, Some are born to endless night
Oh, I get it, I get it. You're sweet. I'm endless.
No, that's not my point at all.
What Blake is saying is that every day you're born
and it's your choice.
See? This is why I like pop-up books.
There's a condition called synesthesia.
It makes you associate letters with colours,
sounds with touch.
Imagine reading a book
and being constantly awash in a cascade of green and purple,
or hearing a guitar chord
and feeling it like your lover's lips against your neck.
Why they call it a condition I'll never know.
It sounds more like a blessing.
And just goes to prove
that even the most basic reality is totally different for each of us.
Belial.
Bring back the spirits of those who have gone before,
those dark and troublesome souls
that spent the last hours of their lives on death row.
Kirk, you scum fuck, quit that shit.
Praise hell. Praise Satan.
Oh, Mukada.
You gotta get Kirk to stop. He's driving me fucking crazy.
Believe me, that's why I'm here.
Somehow I knew we'd meet again.
You wrote a letter to the cardinal claiming that I sexually abused you.
You touched my penis.
You licked my ear.
That's a lie.
I have a meeting later this week with the archdiocese and the cops.
I'm gonna tell them all the "sin-sational" details.
By lying,
you tarnish the legitimate grievances
of the men and boys who have been abused by the clergy,
and you do harm to the many priests
who have lived celibate and spiritual lives.
According to Nostradamus,
the Roman Church is almost ready to fall.
- I want you to tell the truth. - Let me at him.
I'll squeeze the truth out of his scrawny little neck.
Hoyt, you'd think by now you'd realise that's not the answer.
He's gonna die anyway. What's the difference how?
You asked me to perform an exorcism to free you from the devil's hold.
I don't know how to do that, but I've contacted an expert who's a priest--
Too late, Mukada, as always.
Too late.
When I am executed,
you will be stripped of your ministry,
you will be abandoned by Holy Mother Church,
and you will spend the rest of your days
wandering aimlessly and without hope.
In death,
1 will be triumphant.
- A fashion layout? - Yes.
- With the prisoners on death row? - Yes.
- In Maxim magazine? - Yes.
And why do you think this is such a good idea?
The governor's press secretary believes a photo op
will give a positive spin to the prison system.
It seems, I don't know,
unethical.
Or for the boys on death row, a last hurrah.
The thing is gonna work like so.
Each of you clowns is gonna be photographed individually
in various sets of clothes,
and then a group shot. Questions?
Yeah, when's the magazine come out?
January.
Oh, good, I'll be able to see it. My execution isn't until April.
Great.
Okay, good. Let's see a little smile.
Okay, good.
- That's good. - Hey, ladies.
- Okay, big smile. - Jericho can smile.
That's good.
I need to change the flash tube in that lamp.
Okay. Great.
Let's get this over with.
Okay, we're ready for the group shot.
Let me get you right behind him.
And let's have you in the back.
Let's get you behind them also.
You and me, Jazbo,
captured on film for posterity.
Okay, great, guys. That's good. And look butch.
- Oh, fuck. - Shit.
This time you die, motherfucker!
I just got a call from the vicar general.
Because Kirk is dead, Monsignor Slon has convinced the police
to drop the investigation against me.
- You're back. - Yes.
My prayers have been answered.
Pete.
I prayed for Kirk to die.
I just finished reading Augustus Hill's memoirs.
It's remarkable, isn't it?
You know, the way that he describes people and the way things work,
it's the best book about prison life I've read in years.
I completely agree.
Yeah, so, what do we do with it?
I've just taken the liberty of sending the pages along to my publisher.
He wants to publish.
That's terrific.
Have you told Redding about it?
I tried.
He didn't seem to hear me.
Fuck.
There he goes again, going around in circles.
Hey, yo, Burr, man, you gonna be done soon?
We trying to ball.
Great. Not only ain't he focused on business, he going deaf too.
I'm telling you, man.
That old motherfucker's done.
We need young blood to run the tribe.
You, man.
I ain't no number one, yo.
I already tried it on, and the shoe does not fit.
Then who?
Till we figure that out, bro, we stuck with old Burr here.
Oh, yes.
Yes.
In these tough times,
it's essential for the state government
to work hand in hand with business to create new economic opportunities.
Today I am pleased to announce
that privately owned enterprises will be set up inside our penitentiaries,
employing prisoners full-time on a merit basis.
The first programmes will be set up in the Oswald
and Parker Women's Correctional Facilities.
Oh, shit.
Said.
I've been thinking about what you said,
how I'm a leader who does not truly lead.
I've been dwelling on all the shit that I done caused.
I got Augustus killed.
I got young boys out there slinging tits.
Well, I can't do it anymore, and I won't let them do it either.
I'm very happy to hear that.
I got this idea,
but I need to talk to McManus upstairs.
But Burr Redding, he ain't got much credibility anymore.
Well, what do you want me to do, go see him for you?
I want you to be there with me.
Your presence is gonna give me voice.
Okay.
But what's your idea?
Well, in order to get my boys to stop selling them tits,
I gotta give them an alternative.
We're gonna get real jobs.
The young lady at the other end of the table
is Donna Degenhart.
She's the owner of this new enterprise in Oz. Donna?
Thanks to all of you in advance for helping me create my company.
- What exactly is your company? - Telemarketing.
I'll hire inmates to man phone banks and control databases
for businesses on the outside.
Like who?
Long-distance providers, public-opinion pollsters,
charities, airline reservations. You name it.
You do this, what happens to Kentwell Communications?
- I'm sorry? - The telemarketing company
that's already in town.
Well, we're not putting anyone out of business.
The market can bear two companies.
And you know this through your extensive experience?
I know this because 36 other states have implemented similar programmes,
and the benefits inside
far outweigh any small complications that may arise outside.
Oh, gee. Seems I hear that every time we kick-start something.
And how often does that work out for us?
For chrissakes. What, do you got stock in Kentwell Communications?
No, a brother.
We wanna get involved in this new business that's coming in.
So fill out an application.
Well, we was thinking about something a little more proactive.
Proactive? What, have you been coaching him?
McManus.
I know what you suspect me of doing inside these walls,
and if you believe your suspicions,
you gotta admit I run a business better than most.
- So you'd both serve as foremen? - Exactly.
You know, see, I really don't have the money in my budget
for two positions.
Well, Ms. Degenhart, that brings me to a question that I have.
Your employees,
they make minimum wage?
No. No, not even close.
So they make a pittance.
Well, I mean no disrespect, Minister Said,
when I say it's honest people who deserve an honest wage.
Besides, Said, this is more than the $2.50 a week
you're currently making and receiving at discharge.
That's like telling a slave it's not all bad
because he gets to work with his family,
inside the master's house.
Oh, come on, the woman just trying to get the operation off the ground.
At whose expense?
Look, I have no intention of exploiting anyone.
Sometimes that just comes naturally.
Sadly, the thing about business at its core, it is always just business.
I've decided
the Muslims
will not participate.
Excuse me.
Well, ain't but one thing I got to say:
Fuck him.
I'll work for nothing until you hit your profit's bull's-eye.
Well, my foreman.
Yes.
"And life to me is about living, feelings and all and trying not to fall
into them hard places inside you
created by them hard places around you.
It's a I-don't-give-a-fuck song,
set to the tune of the bullshit that bore you.
The place between dreams is a situation signifying nothing.
So to me, I'm just fixing my mind to just enjoy the dream,
because everything else when I ain't asleep is grey.
And life is about wherever you gonna get to, getting got to."
Man, Augustus, this poem is for you.
The meeting didn't go well.
How can you tell?
Your eyes are filled with rage.
Arif, my heart is filled with disappointment.
How come all good things have to have a bad thing attached to them?
If faith were easy, everyone would believe.
- Those are your own words, minister. - Yeah.
There's gotta be a way, Arif,
to do business without cheating all the workers.
Economics is not my strong suit.
Yeah.
Where you going?
To think.
Just to think.
Man, I wish to Christ I could figure out what Redding is up to.
Rumour is he's walking away from the kitchen,
that he's gonna be foreman of that telemarketing business.
That don't mean he'll stop slinging.
And what we need is some information.
Alvarez.
Join us.
You want me to sit with you?
Yeah, I figure you and Guerra made peace.
You won't be stabbing each other with the silverware.
- Besides, I got a question. - Nine inches, baby.
You friendly with any of the niggers?
No.
- Poet a little bit, maybe. - All right.
He knows you and us have been at war.
I want you to talk to him. Find out what Redding's real plans are.
SPY-
Well, yeah.
I ain't hungry anymore.
Do this, Miguel,
and we'll welcome you back into El Norte.
You know, I'm glad me and Chico aren't at each other's throats anymore,
but that's as far as it goes, man.
I got my parole in three years.
Until that point, I'm Mahatma Fucking Gandhi.
You want the peach cobbler?
Miguelito.
- You look great. - Yeah.
And you look really young.
What's up with the visit after all this time?
Do I need more reason than you're my son?
Yeah. Didn't matter much before, did it?
Well, maybe I haven't been here
because you're always in solitary or in the hole
or escaping and not even coming to see me.
When would I have a chance to visit, huh?
You just came here to make my life more fucked up, right?
Thank you.
Be Mr. Macho Muchacho all you want,
but if you're so tough,
think what that says about the bitch that bore you.
You're a tough bitch.
Yeah.
You do bore me.
Okay, I'm glad you came.
You know, when I escaped,
I didn't come to see you
because I thought that'd be the first place the cops would look.
It was.
How's Maritza doing?
- She's wonderful. - She fucking anybody?
She's working as a travel agent,
sending people to Europe, Japan, Australia--
Ma, I asked you a question.
I speak to her once, maybe twice a month.
I don't think she is.
You tell her that she gotta come visit me.
That would mean a lot more coming from you.
I ain't gonna ask. I ain't gonna beg.
She should just show up.
- Shit. - Hey, it's Maritza.
I'm not home, so please leave a message.
Hey.
Ritz.
Thinking about you a lot lately.
Ma told me how good you were doing, you know,
sending people all over the world and stuff.
You know, I hope you don't forget that I'm still part of yours,
because, baby, you're still most of mine.
I know that I haven't been the best,
you know,
of anything the last couple of years.
But if you could use some of that travel agent,
you know, magic and arrange for a car to go to Oz.
Damn.
I'd make that trip worthwhile,
I promise.
Al right.
And I love you.
And I miss you, Maritza.
Yeah, I really do.
Please come.
Yeah, please come.
Let's say a young man mugs someone,
a young girl steals 20 purses from Sears,
a young mother drowns her daughter.
The one thing they're all said to lack is common sense.
Somewhere along the way, they lost their ability to think correctly.
Well, look at Oz.
Common sense creates the common criminal.
The desire to do right
is probably the most uncommon sense of all.
- Father. Father, what's the matter? - Help. Help!
- Bring in that crash cart! - Help!
- Father Meehan's dead. - Oh, fuck.
Hey, O'Reily.
I heard your pal Father Meehan crashed and burned.
That must be tearing you up inside, huh?
- Yeah, he was a good man. - Yeah.
I guess you got a little taste of what it felt like when you murdered my father.
- We're done talking, bitch. - Oh, okay.
I was just wondering how you're gonna feel when Cyril dies.
We're appealing Cyril's case.
And your ma.
What?
Your ma.
You go anywhere near my mother, I'll fucking skin you alive.
I don't have to touch her. I got the evil eye, remember?
Yeah, whatever.
Okay, that's what killed Meehan, you know?
My wife's grandmother put the evil eye on that fuck. Was dead within hours.
You know, Schibetta, you really do belong in psych, man.
You're fucking nuts.
Meehan gave me his rosary.
That's all you need, a possession of the person you want cursed.
I gave the rosary to my wife to give to her nana, arrivederci, Meehan.
I'm gonna put the curse on every single person you love,
and when you can't stand the grief one more second,
I'm gonna put it on you.
And I'll be smiling when you're twisting in your own shit.
Hey, you fucking dago, you motherfucker!
- You fucking-- - Easy, O'Reily.
It's okay, man. That's just a momentary lapse.
- Yeah. - Yeah.
Okay, come on, let's take them down.
Hey, Chucky.
You got a minute?
For you, O'Reily, I got only 28 seconds.
But the way you double-talk, it should be plenty.
Peter Schibetta.
Now he's walking around saying he can put curses on people?
The evil eye, sure.
Well, he says that his wife's grandmother, she's got the power.
Petey's got two screws loose.
Oh, man, I feel a lot better hearing that,
because not only did he say that he put a curse on me,
he said he put a curse on you.
Yeah, that's what he said.
I think he still blames you for him taking it up the ass, twice.
The fucking little prick.
Maybe you should go talk to Peter, huh?
- Yeah, maybe I should. - Yeah.
You see, when you say:
"Screw your courage to the sticking place,”
what you're saying is, "Have some balls. Keep on track.”
But screw your courage to the sticking place, and we'll not fail.
- Good. - Then I explain the murder plan.
- Right. - All right, that's it.
We start up again tomorrow at 3:00.
All right, thank you very much. We'll see you later.
Suzanne, I gotta tell you, I am having the best time.
I gotta go meet my wife right now, but I can't wait to tell her all about you.
Thanks. We'll see you later.
Have you heard from the lawyer about the exact date of Cyril's appeal?
Well, all Zelman said was sometime this week.
Damn.
What's the matter?
- I can't find my car keys. - What?
Yeah, I was sure I left them right here.
Christ, Mom. I'll bet Schibetta stole them.
He's gonna put a curse on you. I gotta go.
- Oh, Ryan. - No, I gotta go.
- Slow down. - I got an emergency.
- What emergency? - I can't explain. Let me go.
- You ain't going anywhere. - Fuck.
Yo, yo, yo. Petey, baba.
Chucky, boys. Long time, no see.
- Hey, Petey, where you going? - Visit with my wife.
We called and cancelled.
Why?
You and me, we have to have a little chat.
- About? - Life and death.
- My life, your death. - Chucky, no!
Warden, you better come and see this.
Well, can't say I'm sorry Schibetta's dead.
What's that?
His eye.
- Lockdown. Lockdown! - What the fuck is going on, man?
O'Reily, catch.
There's that little prick.
Robson, you shanked me and I almost died.
- You're gonna wish I had. - Officer. Officer. Officer!
You fucking cunt!
Out of here, let's go.
Holy shit.
Yeah.
- Vern, I need your help. - Keep walking.
After all I've done for the Brotherhood, you owe me.
Hey. You heard the man, keep walking.
Watch your mouth, prag.
I'm not a prag anymore, pal, and as for watching my mouth,
you're the one with the nigger gums. Bye-bye.
You know what true boredom is?
True boredom is when you wanna get yourself off
and you don't wanna at exactly the same time.
Listen, Cutler.
The wops have got it out for me. I need your protection.
In return,
I'll steal, I'll shank. You name it. I need your clout to keep my ass safe.
If that's what you want, I'm afraid your ass is the one thing
that's not gonna be safe.
Prag.
- I'm no bitch. - Then ciao, baby.
If you wanna stay alive,
come get Papa out of his boredom.
I don't really have anyone else to talk to in this place.
That's what I'm here for.
You ever been scared of dying?
Oh, yeah.
My first year here,
a man named Warren Sticks,
we were in the middle of a session,
and suddenly, he leaped out of his chair
and started to choke me.
I blacked out,
and when I came to, I was lying in a pool of blood,
his blood.
He had slit his wrists with the edge of my tape dispenser.
I realised he was
attempting to knock me out so he could kill himself.
You remember that sensation,
thinking you were gonna die?
Is that how you feel now?
I've felt that way every day since as long as I can remember.
How far back is that?
Much further than I'd like.
I was Gerald Robson's only child.
Even as a kid,
you do what you gotta do to survive.
Because when you're 6, running away is not an option.
Did he beat you?
Oh, yeah.
And worse.
Did he abuse you sexually?
It's funny.
Here I am 36 years old, and I got nowhere to run.
You know? And I guess what I wanna know is:
Is it okay to do whatever is necessary
to survive?
- Is what okay? - Or should I die?
- No, no, but-- - That's what I figured.
Thanks, Sister.
Sometimes the worst thing,
the worst possible fucking state of being...
--fucking state of being is having all your senses working full tilt.
How can that be bad? Well, there are certain things we do,
when seen, touched, heard, smelled and tasted all at the same time,
that'll make you wish you were dead.
Lick this.
That's right, lick it real good.
Now give it back to me.
Drop your pants.
Now bend over.
- What? - You and me, we're gonna spoon.
Now bend the fuck over.