Original subtitles

Yeah, well, somebody better take him down...

before that skeezer artist out there...

covers up our whole damn sign.

Yo, Picasso...

That's your stuff he's pissin' on, dog.

You going out?

Screw it. I'll hurt this bitch myself.

No. No, no.

I'll do it.

You good?

Yeah, I'm good.

I can do this.

Deuces wild, baby boy.

Show him he can't mess with the Deuces.

Marcus Fisher is a tagger...

an advance man, if you will...

for the "A" Street Deuces...

a gang armed with the usual vices...

and willing to do anything to show the world...

just who rules.

Marcus is about to get schooled...

in a little thing called consequence.

Because tonight, just down that alley...

he'll make his own mark in the Twilight Zone.

Yo!

Hey, you!

You're painting over the Deuces' tag, man.

Know what you doing? Huh?

I come by this wall...

seen it take a beating my whole life.

I figure it deserves a little better.

Better? Better than what, man?

That.

That's my sign. I threw that.

Oh, yeah?

It's not bad.

You like it better than this?

I mean, for everybody to see?

Hey.

I need you to stop.

You ready to die for that?

Come on.

Stop! Turn around, man.

'Cause that's what's coming...

you put your talent with them killers.

Jeez. Turn around!

You're a big, freakin' man, huh?

What you doing? Give me that, huh?

Whoo whoo!

That's off the chain, baby boy.

You see that little punk drop, Dex?

Boom! Cleanup on aisle 3, dog!

Oh, I know he be way past dead!

That was hard-core. Give me some, Picasso.

Hey.

Crazy, son.

Hey, you did good.

You stepped up.

First one's always the hardest, though, you know?

No sin.

Yeah, yeah. Come on through, man.

Just let me know what time.

They all waitin' for you right here.

Yo, don't start trippin' on us, Picasso.

You're traveling to another dimension.

A dimension not only of sight and sound...

but of mind.

A journey into a wondrous land...

whose boundaries are only that of the imagination.

You're entering...

Don't move!

Yo, what-- what did I do?!

Get down!

Ow! My arm don't go in that direction!

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

You're the good guys, remember?

I know this kid. I'll vouch for him.

He's all right. I got him. Thanks.

Thank you.

Hey, Marcus.

So, where have you been, amigo?

You know, got the new girlfriend and all.

Yeah? Did you forget? You owe me a burrito.

I was gonna call you, man.

Oh, yeah? Well, what, she wants you all to herself?

Heh. Hey, you know how that goes.

No, I don't. You kidding me?

I been married for 100 years.

The only thing my old lady wants all of...

is my side of the bed.

Heh heh. No, I don't buy that, Rosas.

You a lover man, through and through.

But, yeah, like I said, um...

I was just...jogging--

Hey, hey. You OK?

� Todo tranquilo contigo?

Are you good?

Yeah, yeah. My arm hurts!

Yeah, well, cops are edgy right now because--

You heard what happened, right?

Nah. Hear what?

Last night, somebody got shot dead.

They got no witnesses.

Ho, oh. What a surprise.

Yeah? It happened over there by the wall.

You just jogged right by it.

You sure you didn't see nothing?

No, man.

His name was Henry Santos.

You know, he was an artist like you.

Everybody loved this guy.

Hey, that sucks.

Come here.

Let me see-- look at you!

You're still tagging, Marcus.

Writing, writing, man.

That's what I do... and I'm not gonna stop.

I hear that all the time.

I've been a gang counselor for 15 years.

You all say the same thing.

You're right. Since you got it all down...

I don't know what you need me for.

I need you not to wind up dead like Santos!

That's a tonto way, man...

and that's through and through.

Go on.

Finish your jog.

Stop! Turn around, man!

You ready to die for that?

That's my sign.

Where'd you go so early?

You went back to the wall, didn't you?

Look, I wasn't tripping.

Come on. Help me flip it.

I got lumps in the mattress...

you've got him in your head.

The picture of his body-- it was still there.

OK? I--I just wanted to cover it up, that's all.

Yeah, and now you're all down and frown material.

Baby, I told you last night, OK...

it's somebody, maybe one of the guy's people...

but somebody's trying to lay down...

a guilt trip on you and play with your head.

Look, I didn't want to shoot that man.

I couldn't.

He asked for trouble...

the second he started fooling with the tags.

Look, it was an accident! OK? String and the brothers...

they treating me like I'm a hero or something...

and, hell, l--I didn't even wanna do it.

Yeah, and that is gonna stay our little secret.

You wanted to join the Deuces--

now you're in.

You have to stop your mind...

from turning to the things that can't be, OK?

OK?

OK.

A Deuces man. Now you're in.

First one's always the hardest, though, you know?

Last night, this one here became the real deal.

Mad props, Picasso.

To Marcus, y'all.

-Deuces wild! -Deuces wild, boy!

Deuces wild, baby.

Yeah, Marcus.

You the man.

Now you're a deuce.

Yeah?

It's me.

Shi...

Yo, hang on!

How you doing, Marcus?

Ha. Look, I'm all right.

Thought we'd go for a ride.

Ohh. Yeah, look.

If I hear another ex-gangbanger speech again...

I might shoot myself, so I'm just gonna...

Oh, no. I give you my word.

No, look, maybe another time, man.

I'm not...

Let's go.

I wanna show you something.

You seen this?

"Urban Artist's Digest. " What's this?

You read that, don't you?

Tsh. Yeah, once.

Just before I got a flu shot. Why?

Guess who's in that issue?

Henry Santos.

You know, the, uh, guy that--

Yeah, yeah, yeah, man. I know already, all right?

Did you know how good he was?

Apparently this young man had a great future.

He was a--a rising young street artist.

They say all that.

Yeah, all that, huh?

Now, don't ask me what's art.

Victoria's Secret's catalogue...

That's art.

Look, man, is this what you wanted to show me?

Huh? OK. I seen it. Let me out.

Can you let me out, please?

Damn.

In a sec.

Whoa. Now, that ain't good.

So, what happened last night, Marcus?

I don't know. Yesterday turned into today?

Tsh. I don't know, all right?

Are you sure?

Go on.

Go ahead. Take a look.

You think someone's trying to show me something?

Marcus.

-Marcus-- -I destroyed it.

I destroyed it...

and a minute later, not even...

It was all back. Heh.

Telling more.

I saw it. I saw it.

Baby, you're just feeling guilty.

Feeling?

Feeling?

I am guilty.

No. No, no. See, you have to stop thinking like that.

You have to!

They saw you with Rosas.

Yeah? And?

They think he might try to get you to confess.

What?

And then start snitching on everyone.

No. Don't--Do not--

And if they think...

that you are snitching to the cops through Rosas...

kin ain't gonna mean much...

even if my cousin String is the leader of the Deuces.

I gave up nothing.

They will deal hard with you, Marcus.

Yeah! I know.

Where are you going, baby?

Goin' to mind my business.

You tired of running?

I mean, I see you taking the bus now.

By the way, the police showed me...

the coroner's report on Santos' death.

He had powder burns on his right hand...

and up his right arm.

He probably had a grip on the barrel.

Yeah, that takes brains.

Yeah.

Or else he was pretty sure that the dude holding the gun...

wasn't gonna shoot.

But then, bang!

The gun went off by accident.

Is that what happened, Marcus?

How am I supposed to know?

'Cause I saw the wall, and that's you, bro.

Is that what happened?

Is that the way you're gonna tell everybody...

how it went down?

'Cause you know something...

but you're afraid of what the Deuces will do, huh?

You are so wrong, man.

You're afraid of the truth, aren't you?

I ain't afraid of nothin'!

Oh, yeah. You're proud of that?

Is that you?

Is that how you're gonna live?

Snap the freakin' picture, man.

That's how you're gonna die!

That's not a tattoo.

That's a brand.

You're their slave. They own you.

You think that String and that bunch care about you?

You're damn right they care.

Well, they don't. They care about the wrong things.

The only reason they're keeping you around...

is just to keep you down.

Because they know what I know--

that you can be something else...

and they can't.

Hey, Rosas.

When you got out of the gang life, right...

what got good?

First, I mean.

Not having to look over my shoulder.

I'll see you around.

He's a gang counselor.

Let me drop some knowledge on you.

He ain't counseling you on how to be in a gang.

You understand that, huh?

Yeah. Yeah, man.

Then what the hell you doing yapping and ride-sharing...

with your new best friend...

who wanna teach your ass to be out of a gang?

No, he's dogging me, man. You don't understand--

Is that what you want? Huh?!

No, String.

To be out of a gang?

Look, it won't...

He won't leave me alone, all right?

Yeah? Askin' about our business?

Huh?

What we got? Where we go?

Who we done?

No, man. L-look. I gave up nothing.

I swear it. Look, I came here on my own...

to show you that I'm with you. I'm good now.

Well, you don't look so good.

Hmm?

Mm-mm.

He don't look so good.

You know, man, like that cat...

that shot the canary.

Swallowed, you fool.

You hiding something, Picasso?

No, man.

Don't hurt him!

Shauna?

Please, he's just--

he's just a little messed up right now, and...

He's gonna be better. He'll fix it.

What you saying, girl? You all is playing so much.

Fix what?

The wall. I just saw it.

I thought you all saw the wall...

and I came here for Marcus.

Let's go, man.

You gotta be kidding me.

No freakin' way.

That takes balls, Picasso.

Yeah. Cool.

You're a deuce now, Picasso.

That's all there is to it.

Sweet, baby boy.

Dumb, but sweet.

I don't know how you did it...

but you did it, baby.

You're a superstar now. Can you feel it?

Oh. No, baby.

It's all wrong.

Nothing's wrong, Marcus. Nothing.

I gotta fix it.

Just leave me alone.

No!

Rosas!

Marcus!

I shot him. I did it! I shot him!

Whoa, whoa. Easy, easy, easy.

I can't get free of it, man. I did it, OK?!

OK? Look, look. J-just look! Look!

I shot Santos.

I know.

I didn't--I didn't mean to do it, man.

I know that, too.

You're not a killer, Marcus.

I'm good now. I'm good now.

A mark on a wall, ink under the skin...

Easy enough things to remove...

with enough pain and effort.

But only an act of contrition...

could erase the tag on Marcus Fisher's soul...

in the Twilight Zone.