Original subtitles

[bright tone]

[tense jazzy music]

♪ ♪

- "You made your bed, now lie in it."

Can anybody tell me what the fuck that means?

You don't go to the trouble of making your bed,

smoothing out the sheets, fluffing up the pillows,

just to ruin it all by lying down.

The phrase should be,

"you laid in your bed, now make it."

The point being,

you got to be responsible for your actions.

[grunts]

Responsible.

[indistinct chatter]

[bell ringing]

[tense percussive tones]

♪ ♪

- Kareem, you know, we never doubt your wisdom.

- You're the boss, Vern.

- But why are you talking to that Nazi?

- That nigger?

- Like it or not,

that man is a child of God.

Now I have made a commitment to Allah

to defend the rights of all prisoners inside of Oz,

not just the ones of color.

Not just the ones who believe what we believe,

or who pray as we pray.

- That nigger's gonna get me out of here.

- Said is representing Vern Schillinger?

- Mm-hmm.

- Didn't Nostradamus predict this?

Doesn't this mean we're two steps closer

to the end of the fucking world here?

- You faced Said in Hill's hearing, didn't you, Pat?

- Yeah, and I won, but this is gonna be a jury trial.

Said's a powerful speaker; he could move those jurors.

- So what happens next?

- You and Tim will have to give another deposition.

- Great.

- He'll want to know how you set up and trapped Schillinger,

and he's also gonna bring up Scott Ross.

So be ready.

- That doesn't worry you

that we're gonna be questioned about Ross?

- No, why should it?

- Diane, the last time I was asked

if I knew anything about the shooting, I said no.

- Yeah?

- Well, this time I can't.

- Why not?

- Because now I know the truth.

- So?

- I'll be under oath. - So?

- You want me to perjure myself?

- Tim, what I want and what you do are usually not even close.

- I just--

- Look, can we just cut the shit?

You are gonna say you have a conscience, right?

A moral code.

Seepage in your cerebral cortex.

And I am gonna say, lie.

If you love me, if you ever loved me,

then lie.

Schillinger approached me outside the library.

He told me he would pay me to kill Beecher.

- And you agreed?

- Yes, in order to stop him.

- We have a tape recording of you and Vern Schillinger.

Vern: So last night?

- You wanted Beecher dead, right?

- Yeah, I wanted him dead.

- You'll pay me, right? Two grand?

- Yeah.

- This was your second conversation about Beecher.

- Yes.

- We don't have a recording of the first one.

Isn't it true at that time you approached Schillinger?

- No.

- You never asked him

how much he'd pay you to kill Tobias Beecher?

- No, that would be entrapment and against the law.

- You say he offered to pay you money.

Did he offer you anything else?

- He implied that if I didn't help him,

he would tell people I killed Scott Ross.

- Did that factor into your decision to trick him?

- No, because it's not true.

No matter what Schillinger says, or thinks he saw,

I killed no one.

♪ ♪

- So officer Wittlesey's, in general,

a trustworthy person.

- Yes.

- She's never lied to you.

- I didn't say that.

- So she has lied to you.

- Mm-hmm.

- Did she lie to you regarding Vern Schillinger?

- You mean him wanting to kill Beecher?

- Yes.

- No.

- So she told you the absolute truth

about her reasons for accepting his offer.

- I assume so.

- You assume so?

- Yes.

- So was one of those reasons

the fact that Schillinger knew Wittlesey murdered Ross?

- You mean did she say to me

that was one of her reasons?

- Yes.

- No.

- McManus, did Wittlesey murder Ross?

- Murder?

- Yes.

To the best of your knowledge,

did Diane Wittlesey shoot Scott Ross

with the intention of ending his life?

♪ ♪

- No.

♪ ♪

[door slams]

- Well?

[muffled hip-hop music]

- You don't have a case.

- Will you turn that down?

- They have evidence, witnesses,

and the tape recording.

- There's gotta be some legal loophole, some technicality.

- You will be convicted of conspiracy to commit murder,

and you will be sentenced to ten more years.

- Fuck, might as well be life.

I'll never see my kids.

Come on, there's gotta be some way out.

What about Wittlesey killing Ross?

- Your word against theirs.

And without proof, your word is meaningless.

- They got you, baby.

- Will you mind your own goddamn business!

- Schillinger,

I'm withdrawing from your case.

- No, you are not.

You pull out, that only compounds my guilt.

- I will not fight your lost battle.

- You did this on purpose, didn't you?

To set me up.

You agreed to be my lawyer knowing you were gonna pull out,

knowing that'd make things worse.

- Things couldn't be worse.

I wasn't sure before, but now I know.

You are guilty, truly guilty.

- You used me.

- And you used me.

Life is balance.

- Fucking nigger.

- As-salaam alaikum.

- [laughs]

You just lost the balance, baby.

- Billy Shakespeare, in his last will and testament,

left his wife, Anne Hathaway his, quote,

"second best bed."

Now Shakespeare had abandoned Anne and the kids years before

and had only come back home to Stratford

when his bones had started to creak.

Was the second best bed a joke between a husband and wife,

or was it Shakespeare's ultimate "Fuck you"?

[tea kettle whistling]

- Hello.

Did you need something?

- No.

- Oh, I do.

I need a friend.

- That ain't gonna be me.

- Of course.

I'm a convicted murderer, you're not.

- Let me ask you something.

Do you sleep at night?

- Yes.

- How is that possible?

Given what you did, that you sleep through the night?

- When people ask me about my daughter's death,

I tell them it was an accident.

But it wasn't an accident.

It was what had to happen.

It was what had to be.

And so I sleep.

I sleep good.

[tense percussive tones]

♪ ♪

- Hey, Diane.

Here, Shirley.

- Thanks, sweetie.

[bell ringing]

♪ ♪

- Peter Schibetta was definitely poisoned.

He's getting out of the hospital ward sometime today.

- Did the test results come back from the lab?

- Yeah, same poison used on the rats in the cafeteria

was found in his digestive system.

- What did he eat?

- He says that immediately before he got sick

he was eating a chocolate bar

that had been given to him by Adebisi.

It's pretty clear that Adebisi did it.

- Why's it so clear?

Anybody could have put the poison on the chocolate bar

before Adebisi took it out of the box.

- Everybody knows

that Adebisi has a problem with Schibetta.

- A problem is circumstantial.

A lot of people work in the kitchen.

A lot of people hate Schibetta.

- All right, all right.

Lenny, keep investigating.

You get any solid evidence that Adebisi was involved,

we'll deal with him.

- And if not?

- Then this one goes in the unsolved mysteries file.

[monitors beeping]

- Hey.

- What do you want?

- To tell you that Glynn ain't doing dick about what happened.

- That's fine, I'll take care of it myself.

- How?

- Wait and see.

- Peter...

The family is embarrassed.

- They got no reason to be embarrassed.

- They're unhappy with the way

that you're running things in here.

- They blame me for getting poisoned?

- Your father got fed ground glass over the course of months.

Now whoever did that, probably Adebisi,

took the time because they knew that Nino was watching.

Nino was smart.

- And so because I got one quick shot of poison

instead of ground glass,

I'm not as good as pop, right?

- This is what they say, the family.

- Christ.

You tell them that I'm gonna handle Adebisi.

I'm gonna get my honor back.

By the end of today,

either that fucking moulie or me is gonna be in a body bag.

♪ ♪

- Look at that, Poet on TV.

- In a fucking tux!

- I tell ya some serious shit's going down, yo.

- Hey, Schibetta,

today's lunch special is arsenic.

- Yo, you got agita, bro?

Diane: Knock it off, guys!

♪ ♪

[gate buzzes]

- A new day dawns.

- What's on the breakfast menu?

- Ham and eggs.

- Eggs again?

- Yeah, again. - Shit.

Yo, come into the freezer.

- [babbles mockingly]

Fucking chocolate sauce.

[singing softly]

'Morning, Chucky.

You don't work here anymore, baby.

- Wrong.

I got a job to do.

- It's payday, pal.

- [laughs]

♪ ♪

- Stay down.

♪ ♪

Hey, hey, baby.

[singing]

- [screams]

- [singing]

- Pancamo and Schibetta were found unconscious,

Schibetta's rectum bleeding.

Could've been raped.

- What do you mean, could have?

- He says he doesn't know what happened;

he won't talk about it.

- He knows.

He's too ashamed to admit he took one up the ass.

He won't talk; he'll just get even.

I'm gonna fire the C.O. that let this happen.

♪ ♪

- Peter.

Peter.

I just talked to the family.

You're out.

Somebody else is gonna be taking over

operations here in Oz.

- Lenny...

Don't tell my father, okay?

- Huh?

- Don't tell my father.

♪ ♪

- Yo, you should've been there, man.

Pancamo, out for the count.

Schibetta's eyes wide open.

His mind is shit.

- He got raped?

- [snickers] - Off who?

- What's up, partner?

- Hey... "Partners", huh?

- Yeah. - You and me?

[chuckles]

We ain't fucking partners.

Hey...

I said if you help me kill the dago.

You didn't do shit.

Come on. - [laughs]

- Yo, man, you always let him dis you, man.

You afraid of him, esse?

- Yo, fuck you.

I ain't afraid of nobody, all right?

♪ ♪

- Break it up, break it up.

- Move it. - Goddamn it!

- I'm gonna kill that motherfucker.

- No, you're not.

- Miguel...

- When we kill, we kill for a reason, all right?

- I got a reason.

- Man, you got shit.

It's your fucking fault.

I ain't going to war over your fucking bullshit, man.

- Oh, yeah?

So when do we go to war?

Hmm?

What's it take, huh, Miguel?

- No, no!

Hill: Prisoner number 98H498,

Raoul Hernandez, AKA "El Cid."

Convicted July 10, '98,

murder in the second degree.

Sentence, thirty-six years.

Up for parole in twenty.

- Raoul Hernandez, Miguel Alvarez.

- El Cid, it's an honor, man.

- You Latino? - Si.

- They lied to you, man.

You too fucking white to be Latino.

Get the fuck out of my face.

♪ ♪

[indistinct chatter]

- Rumor mill says the President of the United States

gets people to donate cash

in return for spending a night in the Lincoln bedroom.

But Lincoln never slept in the Lincoln bedroom.

Lincoln never even slept in the bed

that's in the Lincoln bedroom.

Now how dumb do you got to be

to give hard or soft money for a decent place to crash

and it's false advertising?

Shit.

You want to pay to snooze in my room?

Jeffrey Dahmer lived there.

Al Capone, too.

Fuck, for a couple of extra bucks,

I'll get the ghost of Jesse fucking James to float on by.

[imitates gunshot]

- Uh-oh.

- What "uh-oh"?

- Water pipe.

I almost busted it open.

Imagine, a geyser of water spouting up out of the floor.

- Busmalis,

I'm beginning to have second thoughts about this excavation.

- Second thoughts?

Well, have third thoughts.

- If we get caught--

- We're not gonna get caught.

- We have a hole the size of the Holland Tunnel in our cell.

We're gonna get caught.

- Shh, she'll hear you.

-She? She who?

- The hole.

I treat every hole I dig like a lady,

a very special lady.

I never married, you know.

I could never find a real woman

who could satisfy me the way she does.

- Yeah, I'll bet there are a lot of women

who are broken-hearted losing you.

♪ ♪

Hill: Prisoner number 98W504,

Jiggy Walker.

Convicted July 12th, '98, murder in the second degree.

Sentence, twenty-eight years.

Up for parole in twenty.

- What are you in for?

- What's it matter?

The charge is trumped.

The truth is I'm here 'cause I know too much.

- Too much about what?

- Shh.

[gate buzzes]

- Rebadow will show you the ropes.

Behave yourself, we'll get along fine.

- Too much about what?

- Governor Devlin.

- What about Devlin?

- He's a major league crack addict.

- No, no.

- Yeah, oh, yeah.

- Crack addict?

How would you know that he's a crack addict?

- How you think, bitch? I sold him the shit.

I'm the Governor's drug dealer of choice.

- [whispering]

- Dealer takes two...

- Well, looky, looky, four beautiful aces.

- Fuck. - [laughs]

- Wait a minute, I got a fucking ace.

- You cocksucker.

- Hey, hey, gentlemen, don't get testy now.

- Mr. Walker,

as-salaam alaikum.

May we talk privately, please?

I understand you have some information

regarding the governor, James Devlin.

Information of a damaging nature.

- Damaging?

Depends on how you view crack.

- Well, my guess is the voters would frown upon

their chief executive doing street drugs.

- I want this information to go public.

- I don't know, Said.

What's in it for me?

- What's in it for you?

- Yeah.

- If we create a tidal wave

and we sweep Governor Devlin right out of office,

you might find yourself released.

- How?

- I have connections within the media.

This time tomorrow morning,

you might find yourself the most famous man in the state.

- Me...

A celebrity like Oprah.

- Oh, yes, my brother.

But what I need from you is this:

dates, times, places of your business transactions

with Governor Devlin.

- I can't be exact.

It's not like we kept records and such.

- Are there any other witnesses to corroborate your story?

- Scat'll do that.

- Who's Scat?

- My cousin.

Works post office, priority mail division.

- Okay.

I'll make some calls.

Be prepared to do a lot of interviews, my brother.

- Bring 'em on, baby.

I got plenty to say and plenty of time to say it.

- Arif, can I see you, please?

- My nigga. [chuckles]

What's up, nigga?

[indistinct chatter]

- You seen this?

- I just spoke to Ekdahl.

The monitoring office says that

Walker did five phone interviews yesterday

to press across the state.

- I saw it on the local news this morning.

- It heard it on the radio driving in.

- Devlin's finished.

- Assuming he actually bought the crack, yeah.

- Come on, Diane, you doubt he's guilty?

- He's innocent until proven otherwise, right?

- ABC, NBC, CNN,

they all want on-camera interviews.

- Let them, let them.

Let them all talk to Walker all day, every day,

until Devlin resigns.

- The governor's not gonna give the media that kind of access.

- On the contrary.

I just got off the phone with him.

Devlin wants Walker to talk to the press.

He wants full disclosure.

- Well, I'll be fucked.

Devlin: No truth to these allegations.

I do not know Jiggy Walker.

I have never bought drugs from him or anyone,

not now or ever.

It's another in a long series

of false, partisan accusations

that have been perpetuated by a scandal-hungry press.

I intend to go to Oswald today

and confront Mr. Walker face to face.

I invite the media to accompany me.

- Monitoring office says you placed the calls

to the newspapers for Walker.

- Is that a crime, McManus?

- I hate Devlin as much as you do.

I only wish you would have told me.

- I have here the records of the two physical examinations

performed on me since I came into office.

Included in the report is the drug testing

that I instituted as mandatory for all state employees.

There is no indication

of any illegal chemical substances in my system.

I say to you now...

Bring me Jiggy Walker.

Bring me my accuser!

- Mr. Walker, do you have any other names

of people in this administration taking drugs?

- Mr. Walker, how long have you been selling drugs?

- Mr. Walker, is there a deal in the works?

- Mr. Walker,

you claim that you sold me two grams of crack cocaine

on May 3rd at an apartment house on Spring and Vine

in the state capital.

- That's right.

- I have here plane tickets and a guest list,

proving that on May 3rd,

I was attending a reception for our nation's governors

in the Blue Room at the White House.

Now, Mr. Walker, how could I be in two places

at the same time?

- Okay, so that night I sold the shit to one of your aids.

- Which one?

- Sam Berlinghoff.

- Sam Berlinghoff was with me in D.C.

- Cat said he was Sam Berlinghoff.

How was I to know he was lying?

- How indeed.

You claim your cousin, James Dyson Walker,

will back up your story.

I have here a sworn statement from James Dyson Walker

denying any participation in any drug transactions

between you and me.

- Okay, so you paid him off.

- No, Mr. Walker, I asked him to tell me the truth

and now I'm asking you.

Admit you lied, show's over.

Mr. Walker, for once in your life,

do the decent thing and admit it.

- Okay...

I lied.

♪ ♪

So, motherfucker? So what? You been lying all your life.

Shit, still Jiggy.

Shit.

- I don't understand why you'd lie.

- Man, I've been in and out of prison all my life,

and one thing I've learned is

that when you come through them gates,

you got to have props.

You got to be somebody to get respect

so the brothers and the others don't fuck with ya.

- Okay, but why go public?

- That was his idea,

making all sorts of noise about me getting released.

I figured it was worth a shot.

- That's stupid.

You must have known that you'd be exposed.

- I knew there was a good chance.

- Then you tell me why, brother!

- Man, My first prison stay was over at Lardner, 18 years.

I was seventeen.

My family came to visit me regular,

and Latonya, my fiancé, and my friends.

They all came the first year.

Then Latonya married Beau,

so she stopped coming, stopped showing up.

Then Ronnie didn't come no more.

My cousin Scat, my sister, my dad, he died.

By year five, it was just me and my mama.

Then they put her in an old folks home.

Six years in, I had no visiting days.

I had no one to come to see if I was still breathing.

So I said, hey, get on TV, become a superstar.

Maybe they'd come for longer.

Maybe they wouldn't forget about me.

♪ ♪

Fight the power, baby.

[laughs]

He's a little hostile.

- I'm transferring you to Gen Pop.

- I hear that.

- Yes, yes, I know it's shocking what some people will do.

Thank you, Mr. President.

[sighs]

All in all,

it was a good day.

- Governor...

You didn't set all this up, did you?

You didn't hire Walker to lie, did you?

- No, no.

I simply took advantage of the situation.

I've been accused of so many things in the past year or so

that when I realized I could actually

prove my innocence in this one...

Well, it tinges all the other charges

with a wonderful veneer of doubt.

Mm.

Do me a favor,

give these to Jiggy Walker.

I owe him.

♪ ♪

- Giles was on the corner of Sycamore and Broome

on the day my husband was killed.

He saw whoever pushed Leonard off the back of that truck.

- Hmm, but he won't say who it was.

- Aim.

- Aim?

- That's all he'll say now, over and over again "aim."

- So what's next?

- I'm gonna talk to Augustus Hill.

Before Em City opened,

he was in Unit B in the cell right next to Giles.

Before he got sent into solitary,

did Giles ever say anything about his life on the outside?

- I guess so.

- What do you mean you guess so?

- I never really listened to what he was saying.

You know, He'd just go on and on, dot-dash, dot-dash.

I finally just tuned him o-u-t.

- What about two years ago

when he killed his roommate, Ron Beebe?

- The day wasn't different than any other day.

♪ ♪

Sister Pete: Ron Beebe was killed

because he was trying to steal Giles' stuff.

Well, the files show the opposite.

- I don't know about no files,

but I remember Williams Giles

was very conscientious about his teeth.

The guy brushed like a thousand times a day.

Seriously, he guarded his toothpaste like it was gold.

- His toothpaste? - Yup.

- Augustus...

What brand did he use?

- Brand.

Same as mine, Aim.

- Ron Beebe killed my husband.

Can you tell me about it?

- Gingivitis, bad.

Beebe, worse.

Eye. Eyes, Beebe.

Beebe, eyes.

I...

- He saw you see him

push Leonard off the truck.

Do you know why Ron Beebe murdered my husband?

- Sorry.

- He never said to you

why he pushed my husband off that truck?

- Sorry.

Sorry.

Sorry.

- Shh, it's okay.

- I'm sorry.

- It's all right. It's okay.

- So Giles murdered the man who murdered your husband,

and now you want me to let him out of solitary.

- Yes.

- Did you ever consider the idea that maybe he's playing you?

Maybe he made it all up?

- I believe him, Leo.

- Even if he did what he said he did,

he's still prone to violence.

He'd be a menace to the rest of the prison population.

- Well, still,

I feel like I should do something special for him.

- From Sister Peter Marie.

- Hey, Dr. Prestopnik, how ya doing?

- My back is killing me.

My house needs a new sewage system.

My wife wants to spend our 30th wedding anniversary

in the Virgin Islands.

Talk about living in the past.

Other than that, I'm hunki-dory.

You?

- Eh. You know, I saw on TV

that pot helps beat the after effects of chemo.

- Yeah.

- So what do ya say? Wanna hook me up?

- You want me to give you marijuana.

- Yeah.

For, what do you call it? Medicinal purposes.

- Nice try, kid.

Looks like you got the cancer on the run,

your hair's coming back.

This'll probably be your final treatment.

- Thank fucking Christ.

Hey, how's Dr. Nathan doing?

I haven't seen her around lately

and I heard about her husband getting murdered and all.

♪ ♪

- The funeral's Thursday.

She says she's coming back to work tomorrow.

- That's an amazing woman.

- Yeah.

- If you see her, you tell her I'm sorry for her loss.

- I will, O'Reily, I will.

- Hey, baby.

- Dr. Prestopnik, my wife, Shannon.

- Pleasure and a half.

- You haven't been to see me lately.

- Yeah, I know.

I've been busy.

- Doing what?

- Taking care of your brother.

He's a little out of control these days.

- Yeah, I called my cousin, Matthew.

He's gonna take Cyril in.

You and I, Shannon, we're done.

- What?

- I don't want to be married to you anymore.

- Why?

- I found someone else.

- [laughs] Oh, God.

- Shannon...

- Gloria, what are you doing here?

- I've gotta work, Tim.

I got nothing else right now.

- You should take a vacation.

- Where?

How far do I need to go to get away from what happened?

You know...

we didn't have the best marriage,

Preston and I, too many games, too many tests,

too much pride,

but... we really loved each other.

We really did.

He was a good man.

Why'd he have to die?

[brakes squeal]

Hill: prisoner number 98P284,

Cyril O'Reily,

convicted July 1st '98, murder in the first degree.

Sentence, life.

Up for parole in sixty years.

[indistinct chatter]

♪ ♪

- No! - No!

Preston is dead because of me.

♪ ♪

[bell ringing]

- Hey, Gloria, you're back.

Hi. - Don't!

- What?

- I became a doctor to help people.

Now I know that that sounds like a cliché,

it sounds naive, but it's true.

I could have a fancy practice anywhere,

but instead I chose to work at Oz.

I saved your life, O'Reily.

And in return you destroyed mine.

- Your brother, Cyril, confessed.

- Shit.

- Cops want to interrogate you,

although he's refusing to implicate you in the murder.

He's gonna take the rap himself.

- McManus...

You gotta see that I love her, man.

- Love? What the fuck do you know about love?

- What do you know, huh?

What do any of us?

- I know I's not a reason to commit murder.

- Yeah, well, then maybe you've never really been in love.

♪ ♪

- Life is no bed of roses.

Then again,

which of us really wants to sleep on a bed of roses?

You'd never get any rest.

Every time you toss and turn,

you hit another thorn.

[tires screeching]

- Ahh!

- Hey, hey, hey, hey.

You all right?

Same nightmare, huh?

- Yeah. - Wow.

- I'm soaked.

- Yeah, let's get you out of those.

Jesus.

- Thanks.

- We need to do something about that tattoo.

- Oh, yeah?

What are we gonna do?

- I don't know. Let me think of it, huh?

You all right?

- Yeah.

♪ ♪

- Good morning, Tobias.

- Good morning.

- What's the matter?

- Nothing.

- Tobias, I see you almost every single day.

I know the difference between nothing

and nothing.

- Two men shouldn't love each other.

They can't feel the same things a man and a woman feel.

I mean, if a guy has a lot of bad shit happen to him

and another guy comforts him,

I mean, that's, that's all it is, right?

I mean, that's not love, right?

- Well, some men in here are homosexual and some need sex--

- I'm not talking about sex; I'm talking about love.

I had sex with Schillinger.

It was brutal, unloving.

This is different.

- Tobias, are you in love with another man?

- I think so, yeah.

[gate buzzes]

- 98B242,

65R814,

97B412,

98K514.

- All right, everybody, into your cells.

[bell ringing]

- Got a surprise for you.

- A surprise?

- I talked to a couple of guys who know about tattoos.

They said because yours was burned on instead of inked,

it can't be removed.

- I could've told you that.

- You hate the swastika, right?

- Yeah.

- Okay, so then we fill it in like that.

- [scoffs]

- Oh, okay, wait, you don't like that?

We'll be PROCEDURE. We'll just do that.

- That's crazy. - Why crazy?

- As much as I want to get rid of the fucking thing,

I remember how painful it was going on.

Both of those, it's a lot of burned flesh.

- Which leads

to the second part of my surprise.

- What's that? - Moonshine.

101% pure alcohol.

It's like the old west,

cowboy gets shot, you gotta remove the bullet.

You take a couple of snorts of this shit,

you're not gonna feel anything.

- There's only one problem with that.

I've been sober for over a year now.

- So what?

- I'm an alcoholic.

Every bad thing that's ever happened to me

has been as a result of booze.

I'm just now feeling like I'm beating my heroin addiction.

To go back home to alcohol?

- Okay.

- Don't be mad.

- I'm not mad.

- Yeah, you are.

- No, it was a stupid idea.

I just didn't think things through.

That's my problem.

I don't think anything all the fucking way through.

- I hate when you're self-deprecating.

It's so cute.

Hey, where'd you get that stuff anyway?

- A friend of mine in Unit B rigged up a still.

♪ ♪

man: [screaming]

[thud]

[faucet running]

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

- So he didn't drink the moonshine?

- Nope. - Fuck.

- He was close.

- Close? Fuck close.

The whole idea here, the whole beauty of this plan

is that we keep digging up all the guilt and shame,

all the shit that Beecher's got inside of him

until he can't live with himself,

until Beecher destroys himself.

The alcohol's the key.

- No, Vern, I'm the key.

Beecher loves me.

He won't admit it yet, but he loves me.

I'll get him to drink.

- I win.

- Fuck you, you fucking redneck!

- Eat me, jizzball!

- You'd like that, wouldn't ya?

Fucking asshole.

- What the fuck was that about?

- Who the fuck knows.

I hate what that cocksucker did to you.

- Come on.

- Cocksucker!

I don't understand,

your parents decide

whether or not you get to see your own kids?

- No.

They think, all things considered,

I shouldn't spend time with them yet.

Seeing me like this might do more harm than good.

- Seeing you like this, what the fuck does that mean?

- You know.

- Beecher, you're their father.

For Chrissakes, everything that they've been through,

finding your wife, their mother, dead.

They need you, not their grandparents.

You.

- You think?

- Despite everything that you've gone through,

one thing hasn't changed.

They are your blood.

- Hey. - [gasps]

Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!

I miss you, Daddy.

- I love you, Daddy.

- [laughs]

- You're doing laundry?

- Yeah.

- You hate doing laundry.

- Yeah. - Chris.

- I'm celebrating your reunion.

- Are you nuts? They're gonna see you.

- I don't care!

- All right.

- You look good without a beard.

- What happened?

- Ah...

- What? What?

- Remember I told you I got married three times?

Four times, if you count...

Bonnie, who I married twice.

- Uh-huh.

Why did you get married so often?

- Call me old-fashioned,

but before I fuck them, I marry them.

- [laughs]

- The problem is...

The sex.

It's never as good as it is in the beginning,

and once the sex sucks,

I realize I got nothing in common with them.

- Genevieve and I had everything in common until...

- Bonnie just got married again.

I shouldn't care, right?

I divorced her twice, right?

I got no claim on her.

Bitch.

- Come here.

Get the fuck over here.

I love you.

- I love you, Toby.

♪ ♪

Fuck you! Fuck you!

[screams]

♪ ♪

Motherfuckers!

Motherfuckers!

Ah!

[screaming]

♪ ♪

[muffled alarm buzzing]

♪ ♪

- [panting]

♪ Hannah Bantry in the pantry gnawing at a mutton bone ♪

♪ How she gnawed it, how she clawed it ♪

♪ When she found herself alone ♪

♪ ♪

[coughing]

- At the end of the day,

a bed is the best friend you got.

Sure, the mattress may be lumpy,

the springs may have sprung,

the bed itself may be in some seedy motel or in Oz.

But the bed...

It beckons you.

It comforts, it cradles until you sleep.

And if you're lucky enough

to have the right person lying next to you, shit,

there ain't a reason you got to get out

of that bed come morning.

Good night.

Sleep tight.

Don't let the bed bugs bite.

[tense jazzy music]

♪ ♪

[bright tone]