All language subtitles for -Tulsa.King.S03E03.The.G.and.the.OG

Manfredi, right?

- You know me? - Now, what's stopping me

from shutting that distillery down again?

I'm gonna make you an offer.

Dunmire, who's willing to pay

three times the amount.

Do you know something that we don't know?

Bit of a legend in these parts.

My dad's 50-year.

Dunmire suspected it existed,

just didn't know where it was stashed.

50-year-old bourbon?

Big money.

150 million, to be exact.

Dunmire?

He's fucking connected, Dwight.

Dixie fucking Mafia.

It is no joke.

When I call, you need to be ready to move.

Move where?

You'll know where when you need to know where.

So, given your intrusion, I am obligated

to destroy everyone you love.

You're here because

you're scared.

Your empire is in danger, Dunmire.

I'm just getting started.

- Morning. - Morning.

- Everybody here? - Yep.

- Where's Cleo? - She's meeting with a realtor.

The wolves are clawing at the door

left and right for that land, burned house and all.

No, things are heating up, that's for sure.

But we're still in the driver's seat.

We just can't do anything that makes us vulnerable.

Nothing.

'Cause these guys are waiting

for one fucking mistake. One.

So, my advice to you is to keep our eye

on each other, stay close.

And we got to know what the enemy is capable of.

You have to know the enemy.

See, this is just fucked up, man.

Dunmire want to take us all out, one by one.

He took out Montague, jumped Mitch.

And Armand is off the grid.

No, Armand's on his way to the Rockies.

I find him, I'd like to throw him off the Rockies.

So, what we gonna do about Dunmire, huh?

This threat can't go unanswered.

Hey, we're gonna take care of the threat

when we know who we're fighting.

Until then, no. Capisce?

All right, let's focus

on what's in front of us: bottling the 50.

Okay.

Tyson, Grace, care to join me?

- Yeah? - I'm sending you

an address, go to it.

I'll have a car pick you up there.

Look for a white four-door.

You won't miss it.

- It's not a good time, Musso. - What?

Not enough time to find a babysitter

for your adorable gangster squad?

It's called "being on call," Dwight,

so be on fucking call.

You want to keep your crew out of prison?

5220 Hoyt Street, now.

Bigfoot.

I need you to drop me somewhere.

- I got you, boss. - Mm.

- Where you going? - Errand to run.

- Why don't you send Goodie? - Needs a personal touch.

There it is.

I got it from here.

You sure? I can wait.

Call you if I need you.

All right. Let's go.

What the fuck? Hey.

What the fuck?

- Please enjoy the ride. - Enjoy...

Who the fuck is this?

Unlock the fucking door. I'm...

Open the door. Hey!

Would you like to listen to music?

Fuck no!

You've selected Nas.

Nas? Who the fuck is that...

Seriously. God.

I ain't fucking around now. Open the...

Ow, fuck!

My good ear. Goddamn it.

Fuck.

Oh, my God, it's like fucking torture!

How was the ride?

I should put you in a fucking coma.

And then who should I arrest first,

Mitch or Margaret?

Let's move.

Where are we going?

When was the last time you've been to Texas?

Never. What, is this guy Texan?

Transplant.

This fucker. No code.

Kills women, children, anybody, for a price.

Come on, who does that?

A terrorist.

- So, what do you think? - What do I think?

I think you want me to do your dirty work

so you can keep your under-sized hands clean.

Not accurate, but funny.

See? This little road trip's gonna be team-building.

We're no team, pal.

We'll see.

You're gonna like Texas, though.

Guns, thugs.

You'll fit right in.

This is some bullshit, man.

We should pick a fight with them Dunmire bitches.

Where the fuck... where the fuck is Dwight at, anyway?

You heard what he said. We're biding time.

Man, put that on your tombstone.

Biding time avoids the tombstone.

Smart-ass shit to say every fucking time.

- Damn. - Emphasis on "smart."

The skipper says to obey and execute orders,

so that's exactly what we're gonna do.

He also said, "Know your enemy," so let's get to know them,

so when the boss get back, we got some intel to offer.

Dwight is playing chess, and you're playing checkers.

Don't question it.

I got to be somewhere.

I'm saying yes to fact-finding so we know what we up against.

No time wasted.

Let's go.

How long is this gonna take?

Three hours, if I keep it at 100.

Yeah, right. The FBI run out of jet fuel or something?

Oh, this one's, uh, low-rent, low-profile.

What do you hear from Armand?

Out of the blue.

What do you know about Armand?

I got files on everyone in your crew.

You know, I'll tell you what, why don't you just

concentrate on me and leave my crew out of it?

See anything you like in there?

Sounds to me like you got nothing on Armand.

Interesting.

General's lost one of his soldiers.

You know, for the facts,

he's in Colorado with his family.

You sure about that?

Yeah, I'm sure about that.

You know, he's trying to find a new fucking lease on life.

But the more I fucking think about it,

maybe there's no such thing as a second chance.

- Look at you. - No, look at you.

Second chance, second act, second wind. All the seconds.

- World's your fucking oyster. - Yeah?

Is that what this is about? Huh?

Your second chance?

A vindictive fucking federal agent driving about,

giving orders from your shit-box car,

no backup, half a plan.

What's with this fucking music?

I like that.

You're driving too fast, you know that?

Don't worry about it.

All right, tell me about this guy.

Who am I dealing with here?

Dexter Deacon.

Not his real name. Call him the Watchmaker.

Builds and detonates untraceable devices

for the highest bidder.

Comes off like nothing much, but...

he's a monster.

So, you want me to whack him?

No.

Yeah, you do, but I'm an entrepreneur,

I'm not a fucking assassin.

No, I want you to buy from him.

Bait him, set him up and then--

What? Then I'm-a arrest this asshole?

Why do you need me for this lightweight ordeal?

Call an undercover.

No, you see, he's brilliant, this guy.

Crazy, but smart.

My guys will never pass the sniff test.

You, on the other hand, can just be you.

Did 25 without ratting, now you got deep pockets.

Not everybody runs a successful criminal enterprise.

Hey, I was legit until you pulled me back

- into this shit, Musso. - Define "legit."

The point is, you got enemies--

there's a lot of people want you dead--

so it's not much of a stretch

that you might need Deacon's expertise.

So, I guess I won't be blowing this asshole's brains out

and getting home early for dinner.

- That about right? - Now you're catching on.

Speaking of which, how's Quiet Ray?

- Who? - Okay, can we stop

with the "you're surprised I know everything,

and you pretend you know nothing"?

Quiet Ray, boss of bosses.

He know you're in

- the liquor business? - The boss of bosses.

Nobody uses that fucking term anymore.

It's archaic,

- like you. - All right.

- Boss of bosses. - Well, what is it with you,

by the way? You can't leave well enough alone.

Always poking the fucking bear.

Oh, fuck me.

Most important meal of the day.

What, coffee?

Of the Irish variety.

You were up and gone so fast this morning,

I figured maybe I'd find you at the distillery.

- I was making my way. - Yeah?

I covered for you.

I need "cover"?

Look, you got people who look out for you now, Cleo.

All right?

Joanne asked after you this morning.

Joanne was worried about me?

No, I was worried about you.

Did you forget what happened at the cabin? Huh?

We need to move in pairs,

not take off at the goddamn break of dawn

like you're leaving money on the damn dresser.

I don't need a babysitter, Mitch.

Well, fine.

How about you babysit some newbies at the distillery?

We could use your expertise.

I think I've exhausted all my distillery wisdom...

...but I could use some fresh air.

Well, good, 'cause I got you some.

Is this the car you took me to prom in?

Well, let's just say it's one of the perks

of being the former owner of a used auto dealership.

It's a different year, but I'm impressed you remembered.

Oh, I remember.

For a variety of reasons.

Can I drive?

That was the idea.

Come on.

Now, I will say,

just go slow, 'cause...

...it's got a little kick--

Official business.

He don't look official.

He's a consultant.

We're on the same team, though, yeah?

That's a real sweet thought, but you're getting a ticket,

same team or not.

Officer, could we have a word?

No, but you could show me some ID.

My name is Dwight Manfredi. Maybe you've heard of me.

Maybe.

Step out.

How do we even know that Cole is in there?

Well, Mitch told me this is the gym that he works out at.

Plus, that's his truck,

with the goofy-ass vanity license plate over there.

Great.

So now we know: a meathead, goes to the gym, pumps his iron.

- Intel gleaned, we can leave. - No, we stay on him.

I'm number two. I'm-I'm calling the shots here, man.

No, Goodie is number two.

Oh, no. In Dwight's absence,

Goodie's number one, I'm number two.

Traditionally, gangster hierarchy

is dictated by earnings.

Last time I checked, it was my weed shop

and grow op that were filling the fucking coffers around here,

ergo, I'm number two.

What the fuck is a "ergo"?

What... number twos don't say no "ergo."

Number one, number two, you both sound like assholes.

- I'm number two, man. - I'm number two.

- Oh, for fuck's sake. - You know I'm number two.

I'm number two. You know this.

Oh, that's the man of the hour right there.

Yeah, that's him.

Are we sure about this tail vehicle we've chosen?

Bodhi, you lost all your say-so when you pulled up to my condo

in that green-ass Grasshopper, man.

- The fuck? - Okay. All right.

Just saying, the Weinermobile would be less conspicuous

- than this car. - This shit's better

than your toy car, man.

This got EV and it's bulletproof, man.

This how a gangster's supposed to roll.

Yeah, in Blade Runner.

Real life, we don't drive around in a refrigerator.

So, why don't you tell me

what a felon and a fed are riding around for?

I had a feeling that question was coming.

I bet you did.

Let's just say it's a give-and-take situation.

I give him information, and he takes the heat off

of some of my businesses.

So you're an informant.

Yeah. That's about right.

I'm not proud of it, but yeah.

Give-and-take. So, the important thing is,

you're a local cop, right, doing your job.

He's a fed. But I've been riding with this guy,

and his mind is everywhere.

He's going through a divorce because...

he can't do it anymore, his gavache, it's not working.

It's like an assault with a dead weapon.

You know what I'm saying?

What the fuck?

So he steps on the pedal, he lets up.

He's... You know what it is?

He's out of balance.

You got kids?

Yeah, I got two boys.

- You do? - Yeah.

Do they like the Thunder?

The professional basketball team?

Are you kidding me? Of course, they love them.

- Favorite team. - Listen, do me a favor.

I have an associate that has season tickets.

Now, if you could show a little mercy,

cut this guy some slack,

I'll hook you and your sons up, courtside.

You better not be bullshitting me.

Nah.

I've been known to bullshit,

- we all have... - Bet you have.

...but I like kids. This is real.

- Well, thank you. - Oh, thank you.

What the hell'd you say to him?

I told him...

...you're the FBI recipient

of the Meritorious Award and the Shield of Valor.

- And he was impressed? - Very.

Stop right there.

Perfect. That's the spot.

Yep. Totally invisible.

Good job, Tyson.

We definitely won't get caught in this giant,

brushed aluminum dumpster you have us in.

What now?

We go in.

What?

You can't be serious.

We don't even know what's in there. It could be

a-a drug den, an armory, a fucking fight club.

I'm about to start a fight club up in here if you keep

- on yapping. Goddamn! - Enough!

We're going in.

If there's something to see, we'll see it

and bring that information to Dwight.

If not, we'll go back to bottling, which, by the way,

is what we're supposed to be doing anyway.

Okay.

Fuck.

G-58.

- What the fuck? - G-58.

You gonna have to holster that, son.

N-44.

Who's ready to win some money?

I said, who's ready to win some money?

Yeah.

We'll take a stack.

Who's feeling lucky today?

You? You?

- You ready? - Thank you.

Are you ready?

That's what I'm talking about.

We're gonna have a good time today, ladies and gentlemen.

Good luck to you.

Do you think Dwight's committed to the distillery?

What does that mean, exactly?

You heard what he said to your old man.

I heard a sales pitch from a master salesman.

He was stating the upside, Cleo, for all of us.

He meant every word of it.

I don't know.

What don't you know?

I want to trust him like you do.

Look, is Dwight a felon? Yes.

Has he done his time? Yes.

You can go ahead and mark me on both

those boxes while you're at it.

Is Dwight saving what your father built

from his worst enemy?

Yes.

He's a good man, Cleo.

And we're doing this together.

You and me.

God.

Never ends well, does it?

Course it never ends well.

Won't be anything remembering or missing if it did,

but it's damn good while it lasts.

We're doing a road trip.

- We sure are. - We need gas

- and we need snacks. - Aye-aye, Captain.

Where'd you take Dwight?

I don't know.

You don't know, or you won't say?

I won't say, ma'am.

- Don't call me "ma'am." - Yes, ma'am.

Hey.

Where's Manfredi? I want to talk

- to Dwight Manfredi. - Okay. Who wants to know?

I'm Armand's wife, I'm Clara.

Oh, okay. I'm Joanne, Dwight's sister.

- Where is he? - I don't know.

Look, if you got a message for Dwight,

I'll make sure he gets it.

Yeah.

The message is, my husband is missing.

He was coming to see my kids,

he never came.

His car is nowhere to be found,

he's not picking up his phone, his apartment is empty.

What did Dwight do?

Dwight didn't do anything. We've been

- looking for him, too. - Yeah, I bet you have.

Look, if I hear anything, I'll let you know.

I promise.

Yeah. I'm not gonna hold my breath.

Dwight.

Armand's wife was just here.

She doesn't know where he is, either.

Call me.

I've been thinking about this "eye for an eye" bit.

In certain situations, it's very effective.

It does send a message, clear and simple.

Right. Right. Right.

We're not Old Testament here, we're civilized men.

Civilized? Fuck, did you drink the Kool-Aid. Wow.

Rules and regulations, that's what sets us apart.

What, from the fucking animals?

You know what? They have a code of honor.

What the law should do to terrorists, really?

They should take a fuckin' fragmentation grenade,

pull their ball sack up, put it underneath,

pull the fucking pin-- boom!--

and then say, "How did you like it?"

- Yeah? - That's a deterrent.

Uh, yeah. Yeah, I'm gonna stick with the lethal,

legal dose in the arm after being convicted by a jury.

Yeah. Course you would,

but my way is more just and definitely more fun.

N-44.

Hey.

What's going on?

Oh. What the fuck are you doing here, man?

I called him. I thought we were about

to get into something nefarious.

Smartest thing anyone's done all day.

You're actually playing?

- You look like idiots. - Yeah, they're trying

to win the alarm clock.

We're not playing.

We're just, we're watching. It's recon.

Cole and his goons are running this operation.

Looks like Mini Dunmire's running a scam.

- A scam? Here? - Why do you think

Catholics run bingo?

It's a fucking racket.

Cole takes a percentage of the door.

Then he plants a ringer in the room.

Collects the prize money, too.

See, I knew the Dunmires was bad, but scamming old folks?

This redneck's got to be destroyed.

You want to make this right?

Hell yeah.

Watch and learn, children.

Watch and learn.

How may I be of service?

My watch...

keeps losing time.

Hmm.

Could be a... worn mainspring,

or calibration's off.

Even the best pieces need a little fine-tuning

every now and then.

Nice.

This is good estate jewelry,

all these things.

I like that flag.

Very fucking patriotic.

I know.

I want it. How much?

That's 2,000.

Keep it.

And give me my watch back.

It's not worth your fucking time.

I got another one at home.

Very smart.

What's that?

Using your watch shop to clean your money.

Going to estate sales and auctions, paying in cash,

your higher-end clients getting wire transfers

to their off-shore accounts.

Very smart.

We done here?

No, Deacon.

The only way you know that name

is you've friends in high-low places,

or you work for the feds.

Deacon.

In the third century,

there was a guy named Vincent the Deacon,

and they chopped him the fuck up.

He was martyred in Spain.

You think I'm a fucking fed?

I'm here to make a big purchase.

You get that?

I don't do business with people I don't know.

Smart.

But you'll get to know me.

Do your homework.

Learn who I am.

Look up "Dwight Manfredi."

I'll be around.

Okay.

I'll gas up.

- Meet you inside. - Okay.

Ah, Mitch, Mitch, Mitch.

O-61.

Now, something's just telling me you're the lucky lady

of the evening today. I mean, look at your cards.

You know?

You want to share a little bit of that with me?

Come on, now. Look at you.

Come on, now. You let me know.

This is the lucky lady of the evening, right here.

B-14.

N-44.

N-44.

Goddamn it! He can't pull a G to save his life!

Could you get over this? He's waiting for a G.

I can't win this. Could you get over this?

- Shh! - I'm-I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

N-39.

Bingo!

- No. - Bingo.

Hey! Bingo!

Yeah baby.

All right, hey, look, look.

The Lord done shine his little light on me today.

Here we go.

What the hell are you doing here?

What it look like? We winning.

No, you ain't winning.

No, matter of fact, I should make you pay.

Well, you can't relate,

but my friend here won fair and square,

so, in the parlance...

fuck you, pay us.

Nah, you ain't getting shit.

No payout for cheats.

Listen, pally,

you can't cheat a cheater.

You think it's a good idea to stiff one of your winners

in front of all these other potential winners?

Not too smart, huh? What do you think?

Pay him.

But we ain't done.

Bingo, motherfucker.

$20 on one.

Thanks.

Chips?

Oh, no, wait.

You're more of a sweets guy, right?

Cleo.

Put that shit back.

We're not actually on prom night.

You told me I needed to get my mind off things.

That's what I'm doing.

Cleo. Cleo. Jesus Christ.

- Mm. - Act casual.

See you outside, honeybuns.

And she's back.

That was difficult.

What's that?

Not...

tearing that guy's head off.

You're doing a good thing here.

Like I got a choice.

What you're getting is a whole lot of justice

for a whole lot of people. All right?

This guy is pure evil.

Makes you look like a saint.

Why is this guy so important to you?

- That's personal. - Personal?

Let me ask you something, Musso.

Is this operation even sanctioned?

I mean, if he was as bad as you say he is,

why wouldn't you send in a task force?

What happened to all your men, John?

I only need one man for this, and that's you.

Cleo, best case,

you keep this up, you got a hangover.

Worst case, you kill us.

Cleo?

Where are you heading?

Hey. No.

Don't even think about it.

All I've been thinking about, Mitch.

Only goddamn thing. Hold on!

Cleo?

Cleo, stop the goddamn car.

Goddamn it, Cleo, you are done. Out of the driver's seat, now.

- I ain't done. - Hey. Oh, hell, no.

Damn it. God--

Cleo!

Don't fucking do it.

Oh, for fuck's sake.

Cleo. Goddamn it, Cleo!

- Goddamn it. - Message in a bottle, baby.

He burned my home down, Mitch.

- Eye for a fucking eye. - I said stop!

Don't you fucking touch her!

The ever-charming Cleo Montague.

To what do I owe the pleasure?

- You have my attention. - I'm gonna

do to you what you did to my father, Dunmire.

You think I'm gonna forget, let it go?

You got another fucking think coming.

Accidents happen all the time.

Fuck you.

Accept the signs you've been given.

Surrender to them.

No. Fuck.

You know what comes if you don't.

Cleo, let's go.

Take this duly emotional young lady home.

I'll overlook the trespassing and the damages,

this last time.

Young man, you should be careful about the company you keep.

Now, truly,

get the fuck off my property.

We're leaving.

Let's go, Cleo.

In the car.

Come on.

Don't touch me.

Come on.

Oh, did y'all see the look on Cole's face in there, man?

Motherfucker looked like he wanted to kill us, yo.

Wants, Tyson.

Present tense. He wants to kill us.

And now we got something to report back to Dwight.

Dunmire's boy might be a jerk-off,

but he's an organized jerk-off.

Got his hands in more than just booze.

Wait. Is this your first time at a strip club?

No. No, my periodontist took me to one once after a procedure,

but I was heavily sedated.

I don't remember it.

- It doesn't count. - Hey, how about this, though?

You remember that?

You'll remember this, right? Huh?

Don't forget Dwight's envelope. You earn, you kick up.

That's what's right, hey, but look.

I already got that put aside, all right?

Good. Thank you.

Hi.

I'm Serenity.

You sure do look like it, too. I'm Tyson.

- What's going on? - Nah, nah, nah.

Come on. We're wrapping up.

Tyson's already wrapped up.

I'm already wrapped up.

Come on. Let's get you away from these buzzkills.

- Let's get out of here then. - Dwight's gonna

be back. We should really call it a night.

Let's go. I'm following you.

Hey, there's a flag on the play. Other plans have been made.

Get comfortable.

Oh, yeah?

What's this brain-rotting music you got me listening to?

So, what's your, uh... what's your story?

How long you been a...

dancer?

You can say "stripper."

I'm not gonna burst into tears.

Not long. Couple months.

Wait, wait. Wait, wait.

What's-what's your plan?

Hmm?

What's your plan?

You know, outside this place?

Honestly?

Yeah.

There's got to be a life outside of Tulsa.

Got to find it somewhere, right?

Nobody wants to retire in the champagne room.

Yeah.

Cat got your tongue?

I said I'm sorry, Mitch.

You know why you and I never end well, Cleo?

Because of the impulsive shit like that back there.

I thought it was one hell of a date.

No, that was a good goddamn way to get me sent back to Lompoc.

Do you want that?

Of course not.

Well, then you got to stand down

and bide your time.

Goddamn it, Cleo, we got a good thing going.

You got to be safe.

I can't just sit around, waiting for something to happen.

Yeah, well, you got no fucking choice.

You want my help?

You want Dwight's?

Then stop playing fucking games.

This is serious shit, Cleo, life and death.

We go under the goddamn radar, not above it.

Do you understand me?

You want Dunmire? We'll get him.

Somebody starts something, Dwight ends it.

We end it, it's been done before.

But you pull some shit like that back there...

jeopardize all of us and everything?

You and I?

We're strangers.

I don't want that.

Fuck. Oh...

See?

I'm making my lemonade

out of lemons.

What the fuck you want?

Where'd you stash it?

- I don't got your money. - I ain't talking money.

I want the Montague 50.

Now, where is it?

It's nowhere.

The 50 is a myth.

It's a myth, hmm?

Even if it did exist,

I still wouldn't tell you shit.

Fuck him up.

Now, I don't want this

any more than you do, man.

I really don't.

Now, can you tell me now?

Pretty please?

No?

Oh, shit!

You're gonna have to kill me!

I ain't snitching on shit!

I might.

Yeah?

Am I gonna have to kill you?

I don't want to do this,

but they fucking do.

So help me... help you. Huh?

Oh, fuck you.

Now you're putting me in a position.

I'm sorry.

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Whoa, whoa, whoa!

She-she don't got nothing to do with this!

- Leave her out of this! - Now, no more talk.

- It's the final countdown. - What?!

Ten. Nine.

Eight. Seven.

Fuck.

Six. Five.

Four.

Three.

Bingo.

We'll need some dollies.

I'll send a fucking truck back.

I got to tell my old man the good news.

What you want to do with the Black guy?

I don't give a shit.

Oh, fuck!

Fuck.

Bulletproof. Bulletproof.

- Any ammo left? - Nah, I'm out.

All right, let's get out of here.

Let me run something past you.

- Okay. Shoot. - Okay.

I've been thinking about this Thresher campaign,

what he's doing, trying to be governor.

Yeah, that was a surprise.

Nobody likes the guy.

Yeah, but a billion dollars can buy a lot of goodwill

and change people's attitude pretty fast.

Yeah, I don't know.

I can't remember the last time

a confirmed bachelor won a state-wide election

in Oklahoma--

- no wife, no kids. - Mm.

It's not a look the cowboys go for.

See, I got this plan, this, like, grand scheme

for down the road in the future,

but the stumbling block is this Dunmire,

'cause he's got the cops and lawmakers,

even the reigning governor in his pocket.

And I need some of them in mine.

- Okay. I see. - What?

You want me to see which way the wind's blowing.

Yeah, that's it, well put.

If it's not blowing in Thresher's direction,

you need to change the weather.

Well, I can ask around...

- Good. Okay. - ...see how the polling looks.

- Well, do that. - I can do that.

Okay.

Sorry.

Yeah, Goodie.

We got a problem.

Yeah. I got to go.

How bad are you, Tyson?

I'll live.

Dunmire won't.