Original subtitles

- A blizzard is coming, y'all.

Heaps and heaps of snow will fall from the sky

and bury everything:

sidewalks, cars, houses.

The ground will grow frozen and slippery.

Dangerous.

But here in Oz,

we're oblivious to the weather outside.

Here in Oz, we're all toasty,

cozy, and warm.

- Fuck.

Cyril, hey, you okay?

- My hair is changing back.

- Oh, shit.

Look at that.

- And my skin.

I'm not wrinkled.

- Let's go, let's go.

- Well, none of the other nine prisoners

show any long-term or adverse effects

when taking the drug.

Since we've stopped the testing,

their bodies have been reversing back to normal.

- Oh, thank God.

- Morning.

- Morning. - Coffee ready?

- Yeah.

- Great.

Hope we're not running low.

Weather Channel says a big storm's a-brewing.

With our luck, we'll get snowed in with no java.

Any word on how McManus is doing?

- Yeah, I stopped by the hospital on my way here.

Uh, he's in great spirits.

Dr. Nasca says he's doing well, and he should be back next week.

- Good.

- Wow, great news all around.

- Dr. Nathan.

Jeffrey Seitz.

- What can I do for you, Mr. Seitz?

- I'm an attorney at Downing, McNally, Adema.

The Weigert Corporation has retained my firm

to handle all the litigation

regarding the so-called aging pill.

- Litigation?

- The family of the prisoner who died, Fred Wick,

is suing for $25 million.

You're named as a co-defendant.

- Wait, I am?

- Relax.

I'm confident that the Wicks will settle out of court.

The more serious problem

is the State Medical Board of Ethics,

a decidedly less-predictable group.

They want to hold a hearing

to determine if there was any malpractice on your part

during the drug testing.

- You mean--

- Yes, you could lose your medical license.

- The Weigert Corporation says you mishandled the experiment.

- 15 inches of snow over the next three days,

with a temperature below zero and winds at 30 miles per hour,

the morning commute will be havoc...

- O'Reily...

- A travel advisory has been issued...

- You got a visitor.

- Who?

- I don't know, some broad.

- Who are you?

- My name is Suzanne Fitzgerald.

- Do we know each other?

- Yes, but we haven't seen each other

since you were a very small child.

- Look, lady, I'm not real big on nostalgia, so...

what do you want?

- Ryan, I came because I have something to tell you,

and it's something I think you're gonna find

impossible to understand.

- Try me.

- I'm your mother.

- My mother's dead.

- No. I'm your real mother.

The woman that you thought was your--

- My mother's dead!

- Well, finally!

- Jesus, damn it.

- I feel like you've been in there since Halloween.

- Hey, I got a lot on my mind.

- Like I give a shit.

- You know, Howell, you are such a cunt.

- Look at us arguing like an old married couple.

You know, O'Reily, that's the problem.

The thrill is gone.

- Meaning what?

What, what, we're-- we're through?

- Yep, time for me to move on to greener pastures.

- Oh, I'm just heartbroken.

- About time.

I'm starving.

- Alvin, all you do all day is eat.

- So, what?

I'm supposed to preserve my girlish figure?

- Hughes, food's here.

- Fuck you.

- Hello there, blondie.

You afraid of me?

You don't need to be afraid of me.

I'm good friends with your brother.

I'd like to be good friends with you, too.

- You can't do that to me!

Get off me!

- Officer Howell says that your brother,

without provocation, hit her.

- She's a lying cunt.

- In any event, I've sedated him.

He'll sleep in the ward tonight.

- We seem to be coming back to the same problem.

I'm not sure what else we can do.

- I don't understand.

- We're thinking Cyril should be transferred

to the Connelly Institute.

- The insane asylum?

Uh-uh, no fucking way!

- We won't decide anything until McManus gets back.

John, take him out of here!

- Gloria, don't let them do this.

You know he won't survive in there.

Gloria, I'm serious!

Hey, Dad.

- It's snowing like a motherfucker.

They say we're getting maybe 15 inches by Thursday.

- I appreciate you making the effort.

- What's wrong?

- The hacks are talking about sending Cyril away

to the state looney farm.

- So?

- So?

So, if he goes to that shit hole by himself,

then he's gone forever.

- What's the difference?

This shit hole, that shit hole.

- Yeah, but at least here in Oz, he's got me.

- And you've been such a force for good in his life, huh?

- Fuck you.

- That's my boy.

You didn't call me about Cyril.

You got some other nonsense going.

Now, out with it,

because I want to get back before the roads get worse.

- Suzanne Fitzgerald.

She came to see me.

She says she's my real mother.

- She's a lying cunt, a miserable lying cunt!

You hear me?

- Fuck, it's true.

- I gotta go.

- It's true, isn't it, Dad?

It's true!

A son's obligation is to protect his mother,

no matter from who, even his own father.

The woman who I thought was my mother,

I knew she never loved me.

Now I see why.

- And Suzanne Fitzgerald?

- I-I think she's my mom.

You know, only I chased her out,

and I have no idea how to reach her.

- Well, maybe I can find her.

- Would you? Wow.

Would you do that for me?

And this bullshit about sending Cyril away,

you'll take care of that, too?

- Ryan...

I can't make any promises.

This isn't my decision.

- But you'll plead my case, right?

- Ryan...

- Please.

Don't let them separate us.

- Ryan?

- Hey, how you doing, champ?

- Better. - All right?

I know you'll do what's right.

- So, how are you getting along, Clayton?

- I'm fine.

- And the men in your cell block, who are they?

- They're cops, one was an undercover narc,

the other's some yokel from a small town mid-state.

- So, at least you're safe.

- You've got to stop worrying about me.

I'm not a little boy anymore.

- I know that.

- My entire life, you and Leo treated me

like I was some fragile piece of china,

afraid I'd break at the slightest touch,

because Dad was stupid enough to get himself shanked

when I was seven years old.

- Clayton, don't speak that way of your father.

- All I'm saying is, you are too protective of me.

- You'd rather what?

That I'd let you run with the gangs?

- Yes.

At least then it wouldn't have taken me this long

to find my balls.

- Oh, and you found them by shooting at the governor?

- For the first time, I know who I am...

my true self...

the thing I was born to do.

I can change the world.

But tucked away in Unit J, I can't do anything...

At least not yet.

- What do you mean, "not yet"?

Clayton...

what are you planning?

- Nothing.

Don't worry.

- Mail!

Hmm, another letter from your wife, Basil.

She sounds worse and worse.

I think you ought to let her come visit.

- Always grateful for your input, Robson.

- My pleasure.

A couple of magazines for you.

"Newsweek", "Field and Stream",

"Swank".

- I like my reading to be well-rounded.

- Check out the pussy on page 15.

Ooh, hey, nothing for you today, tough guy.

- Bite me.

- Where?

- Fucking cocksucker!

- Oh, fuck, Christ, not again!

Take off, Robson, now!

- Yes, sir.

Bye-bye, baby.

- Fuck you, you fucking dickless Nazi fag!

- Clayton, Clayton, if you keep this up,

I'm gonna have to spank you.

- Careful, he might enjoy it.

- You fucking cocksucker! - Hey, hey!

- Put Hughes in his cell!

- Fucker! - Get the fuck in there!

- Uncuff me!

- First, you got to learn not to run with scissors!

- We've got to do something about Hughes, Alvin.

We've tried being friendly.

Now we gotta do something else.

- Like what, boil him in oil?

- We should talk to the warden,

have Hughes transferred to Solitary.

- Eh, that guy's like a son to Glynn.

Would you put your son in solitary?

- My son.

You got to...

Here, let me show you.

- Thanks.

- John, come on in.

- Office looks great.

- Oh, I hope you're not here to ask for a new microwave.

- Clayton Hughes.

- Look, I've been meaning to come down to J

to talk to Clayton.

I've just been so goddamn busy.

- How's your wife?

- She's...

Okay. How's yours?

- I haven't seen Abby since my trial.

- Why not?

- I'm too...mortified.

John, look...

I'm the last one to be counseling on marriage.

But trust me, you don't want to push her away.

You push once too often,

and she won't be there when you need her.

- Abby?

Please come...

and soon.

- ♪ Oh the weather outside is frightful ♪

♪ But the fire is so delightful ♪

♪ And since we've no place to go ♪

♪ Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow ♪

- ♪ Let it snow ♪

- It's cold in here.

You guys cold?

- Put on a fucking sweater.

- When is Busmalis getting married?

- Tomorrow.

- That's what I thought.

Shouldn't we be doing something?

- Like what?

- I don't know. Bachelor party.

- A bachelor party here in Oz?

- Bachelor parties are one part alcohol,

one part strippers.

We're in short supply of both.

- Okay, fine, I just thought...

tomorrow's a big day for Busmalis...

Forget I brought it up.

- He misses Keller.

- I don't.

So, Rebadow, you're the best man, huh?

This marriage is doomed.

Let's go, Cyril, come on.

- Just think, by nightfall tomorrow,

I'll be an old, married man.

You don't think I am, do you?

- Am what?

- Too old to get married.

- No.

- You don't think I'm crazy doing this, do you?

- You gotta be a little crazy to tie the knot,

but it's a good crazy.

- Sure.

Well, like you said when I first told you...

how's it gonna be,

her outside, me inside?

I mean, we can't even consummate the vows.

- I've been saving this as a surprise.

I've arranged with Sister Pete

for you and Norma to have use,

on the evening of your nuptials only,

of one of the old hospitality suites.

- But conjugal visits aren't allowed anymore.

- Sister Pete pulled a string or two.

- Wow.

Norma and I are gonna romp through Cupid's grove.

There's only one thing.

- What's that?

- You're gonna have to tell me what to do with Norma...

in bed.

You see, I'm a virgin.

- O'Reily's right.

This marriage is doomed.

- I'm sure she'll be here any minute.

- Yep, any minute.

Any second.

- She's not that late.

- No. 45 minutes is not late late.

It's fashionably late.

- Plus, I'm sure that with snow flurries,

the traffic's-- it's just gotta be snarled.

- The snow flurries, of course.

- She might have even gotten a flat tire.

- Or a faulty carburetor.

She told me she's been hearing a strange ping in her engine.

- Well, see, there you go.

Pete, did you reach her?

- I called Norma's home and got the voicemail,

so I called the studio where they make

"Miss Sally's Schoolyard,"

and a very nice man there said...

that he hadn't seen her all day.

- My sweetie took off from work to marry me.

- I'm sure she'll be here any minute.

- Right.

- But with the snow and--

- Pete, we've been there.

- Ah-ha.

Well, you look very nice.

- Thanks.

This is the happiest day of my life.

- Are you sure you want to convert to Catholicism?

- Yes, Father.

- I don't want you or anyone else

to think that I'm rushing you into this decision.

- Does it matter what anyone else thinks?

Father, I know in my heart

that I want to be baptized a Roman Catholic.

- The Reverend Cloutier--

- I no longer care what the Reverend Cloutier says or does.

- Okay.

All right, Samuel, we'll have the ceremony...

Next Saturday.

- Thank you, Father.

- Thank you, Samuel.

- "So, Daniel was taken up out of the den,

"and no manner of hurt was found upon him

"because he believed in his god.

"And the king...

"Commanded that

"they brought those men which had accused Daniel,

and cast them into the den of lions."

- Reverend?

- Yes, Father?

- I hope you're not upset that Samuel Gougeon

has decided to become a Catholic.

- Well, if by "upset" you mean angry, no.

But I am fearful for his soul.

- His soul will be fine.

Believe me.

- Believing.

That's the bottom line, isn't it?

- You are one cool customer.

I will give you that.

- How would you have me behave,

red-faced with anger, gripped by jealousy?

No, that's your game.

My game?

- When Timmy here left your church to join mine,

you started keeping a tally

whoever saves the most souls wins?

- That is not true.

- I think that your head hasn't accepted

what your heart already knows.

You're baptizing Samuel Gougeon to get back at me.

- Robson.

I need you to take care of a little something for me.

- You got cash?

- Uh-huh.

- Start talking.

- The patient's name is Samuel Gougeon.

- What happened?

- He's been severely beaten, possible head trauma.

- Frankie, I'm gonna need you to get me some combines.

- Right away.

- Turn to me. Let me see.

- How could you?

How could you have Samuel Gougeon beaten?

- Mukada, I would never do such a thing.

- What has happened to Samuel, it's anathema to me.

- Are you saying this attack is a coincidence?

- I pray that it is.

But if not, and a member of my congregation is responsible,

he will be punished.

- Yeah, well, do me a favor.

You leave the punishment to me, you understand?

- Of course.

- Tim, tell me the truth.

Tell me if you are involved.

- Yes, yes, I am.

- Why?

Why would you have him beaten?

- Matthew 26:24. "Woe onto that man by whom

"the son of man has betrayed.

It had been good for that man if he had not been born."

You told us those very words.

- But you are misconstruing their meaning.

- Gougeon had to be punished for turning his back on the Lord.

- I just wanted to give you the schedule that I worked out,

clearing the cafeteria for Ramadan.

- You came just to give me the schedule?

- Yes.

- And there's nothing else?

- I made an assumption about the Reverend Cloutier,

that he was a phony.

- But he's not.

- This all started when Timmy Kirk decided to convert.

I thought that Kirk should be celebrating Christ

through the...one true church.

But if he finds his bliss somewhere else,

should I fight to keep his soul in my corner,

believing as I do,

that the faith that he's choosing is wrong...

Or should I just be happy that he's found God's love...

no matter where?

- The Prophet says, "Let there be no compulsion in religion."

Each soul journeys alone.

So you must lead...

And you must follow.

- That's impossible.

- If serving Allah were easy, everybody would.

- Reverend, I've been thinking,

this might be a good time for an ecumenical service.

- Extraordinary.

I was thinking exactly the same thing.

Father, I-I accused you of being consumed with envy.

- I was.

- But I was, too.

- Our sins are our bond.

The house of God has many rooms.

If a person chooses to move from one room to another,

we who are left behind must rest assured

that the room that we're in is not empty.

God's presence fills every room.

God's love shines through the entire house.

Let us pray.

- Currier and Ives. Norman Rockwell.

They created images of America in winter,

ice skating on a lake,

sleigh rides along a country road,

fluffy white crystals of new fallen snow.

Maybe there was a time when life was idyllic

and children didn't go to school and kill other children.

We see the paintings now and we grow nostalgic,

nostalgic for a place we've never seen.

We long for a time that we've never actually been part of.

- I feel like I've hit rock bottom

and another trap door opens

and I plunge further into despair.

- God only gives us as much suffering as we can endure.

- You mean he piles on the shit to see if we'll break?

Why?

- To test our faith, and to make us appreciate

the good that we do have.

- Well, forgive me for saying so, Reverend,

but God is a sick fuck.

- Vern...

- Hank's wife, Carrie, is about to show up.

She's been to see me regular since the day Hank disappeared,

since the day she told me I'm gonna be a grandpa.

Every visit, I tell her,

"Don't worry, Hank'll be home soon."

Well, now, I get to tell her

that he's coming home tomorrow...

in a box.

There she is.

- Hi.

- No, no. - Oh.

I'm sorry I'm late.

I had to scrape ice off the windshield all by myself.

- You feeling okay?

I'm feeling fat.

- What does the doctor say?

- Oh, that I might deliver earlier than my due date.

- Carrie, I got some news...

and it's not good.

But I need you to be strong, for the sake of the baby.

Okay?

- Okay.

- Hank...

was killed.

- He's...

he's dead?

- Yes.

- Fuck.

Oh, fuck.

Jesus, no!

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!

No, no, no, no!

No, no! Oh, God!

- It's gonna be okay.

- It's not gonna be okay!

How's it gonna be okay?

You tell me, huh?

How am I gonna live with a baby and no fucking husband?

Oh, God.

Fuck, fuck...

Oh, God!

Ow!

- What's the matter?

- I don't know.

- Get a goddamned doctor down here fast!

- Central, this is 41.

We need a 68 in the visiting room.

- Oh, fuck, ow, ow!

- Carrie...

- Oh, it fucking-- it hurts!

- Come on, Carrie, keep breathing.

Remember your breathing, just pant, keep breathing.

- It's not coming out!

- No, it's coming out, I can see the head.

On three, I need you to give a big push, okay?

One, two, three, push!

- Ow, fuck, it hurts!

- Keep pushing, keep pushing. - Fuck you!

- I can see the head, Carrie, I can see the head.

- Oh, here it comes,

here it comes, here it comes.

- Here we go.

- No, no, no!

No!

Please get off of me!

No! No!

- Prisoner number 0-1-G-3-5-9,

Colonel Edward Galson,

convicted February 16th, 2001.

Rape, assault.

Sentence: 15 years.

Up for parole in seven.

- This is Tobias Beecher.

He's gonna help you acclimate yourself to your new life.

Beecher, this is Edward Galson.

- Hey.

- Which way?

- This way.

- So, I saw a thing about you on the news.

You raped a fellow officer at a military convention?

- I've been in the Marine Corps since I was 16,

and I have lived by its code of ethics.

One night, I failed that code,

and I'm being properly punished.

- Yeah, well,

you may not feel that way after a couple of days in Oz.

- I'm used to being in the company of men.

I'm used to a strict regimen.

I won't have any trouble adapting.

- Okay, then.

- Do you like to be called "Ed," "Edward," "Eddie"?

- Actually, I prefer "Colonel."

- All right...Colonel.

You want to tell us about your addiction?

- I don't think it's an addiction, really,

because I don't drink that often.

- I see.

But when you drink too much,

what happens?

- This one time I lost control.

It won't happen again.

- That's easy to say. It's harder to do.

- For a weak man, yes.

- Okay, yeah, I was weak,

and for more than one time.

I probably still am a weakling,

but at least I got the balls to admit it.

- That's enough, Tobias.

Okay, everybody, see you next week.

- John Carpenter is back, playing for $100,000.

John, welcome.

- Thank you.

- Well, we've got somebody here to help you,

whose character, Miles Silverberg,

in the sitcom "Murphy Brown,"

defined the word "overachiever"...

- "Murphy Brown," funny show.

- Ladies and gentlemen, Grant Shaud.

Grant, welcome.

- I loved Candice Bergen's tits, man.

- The other girl was cute.

- Lily Tomlin?

- So the question is...

what country has the most number of people who speak English?

- America!

- No, England, dummy.

- But for $100,000 it can't be that simple.

Grant?

- My hint is this:

Redbook gave this country a rave review.

- China.

- I didn't know that.

- I'm a big believer in fake TV newsmen, Gordon.

So, I'm gonna have to go with China.

- Well, John, it may not surprise you

that more Chinese people

than Americans will understand when I say

you've won $100,000!

- Yeah! Yeah!

- Fucking Beecher always gets the answers.

- Maybe you should go on the show.

- Yeah, right.

"Hey, I'm Tobias Beecher.

I'm in prison for killing a child."

Okay, let's play "Up Your Ante."

- Tobias, I'd like you to meet Katherine McClain.

- Hello. - Hello.

- She's a lawyer with the Alliance for Prisoners Rights,

and she'd like to discuss something with you.

Come in, sit down.

- Mr. Beecher, are you aware that you're up for parole?

Well, when I was sentenced,

I knew I had to serve minimally four years.

But all things considered, I figured my record

would pretty much cancel out

any chance of getting released early.

- Well, you may be right.

But...I've reviewed your case,

and I think the extenuating circumstances--

I mean, the death of both your wife and son,

your daughter, her genuine need for you,

your improved behavior over the past six months,

the commendations from Sister Peter Marie

and Dr. Nathan...

might motivate the parole board to look highly on you.

They'll let you go free.

- I...

- Tobias?

- I'm okay.

What do I have to do?

- Give me permission,

and I'll set the wheels in motion.

And in the meantime, keep out of trouble.

- I hear you're a faggot.

- Whether I am or not, what's it to you?

- Lights go out, I don't want you getting any ideas.

- Trust me, Colonel.

I'm never gonna get that horny.

- As long as we understand each other.

Fucking faggots are ruining the military.

"Don't ask, don't tell", my ass.

- I agree.

You know, I think the military should stay

the way it's always been,

a bunch of redneck he-men who murder children and rape women.

- You making a joke of me?

- It seems like you're doing a pretty good on your own.

- You son of...

- Fuck. Wait.

Fuck, no.

- Wait, no, no, no.

You don't understand.

Wait, look, I'm sorry.

Will you just fucking let me explain, you fucks!

God fucking!

Oh, fuck!

God damn it, motherfucker!

Oh, fuck!

- Fahrenheit and Celsius,

two ways of measuring the same thing.

Of course, most of the world is on Celsius,

but we Americans remain defiantly committed

to Fahrenheit!

We'd like to learn the other way.

We'd like to change.

But we just can't seem to accept that zero degrees

is actually warmer than we think.

Woo-hah!

- So, Jackson, why were you sent to prison?

- The file's right in front of you.

- You don't want to say the words?

- Assault.

- What else?

- This is bullshit.

- It's not easy to verbalize, is it?

- So?

- So, that's good.

That means you're not proud of what you did.

- No, it means I didn't do what the bitch says I did.

I didn't try to rape her.

She came on willingly.

- Okay...I want to schedule you

for another appointment tomorrow.

- Why? This shit is not helping me.

- Well, it's helping me.

You see, Jackson, I have quotas to fill.

And I have to see a certain amount of prisoners

every day or the state just won't pay me.

Jackson...

you were tested for drugs

just before the parole hearing, and you came out clean.

Do I need to have you tested again?

- Nah.

- I believe you...

for now!

Hey, Redding, I got a complaint.

The tits Poet sold me yesterday, they been cut with something.

Shit, I can't even get my usual high.

- The problem ain't with the product, nigga.

It's with the consumer.

- Am I talking to you?

Yo, I need some better shit.

- What Poet's trying to tell you in his own surly style

is that you've been snorting so much every day,

combined with the size of your body,

you're gonna develop yourself a tolerance.

- At least he's tolerant about something.

- Oh, shut up!

Yo, give me some more.

- More is only gonna kill you.

No...

you need a better way to, um...

what's that word?

- Ingest. - Ingest.

Only be careful where you stick it.

You don't want to be leaving yourself any marks.

- So, what, in my tongue?

- Or behind your knee.

- Lights out!

- Number 17, Jackson Vahue!

- As a basketball player, my legs are what made me.

I know I'm never going to see another pro game,

so...fuck it, right, what's it matter?

But it does matter.

These legs took me out of the projects.

I made something out of myself.

I don't want to forget that.

I'm proud of these legs.

- Prisoner number 0-1-D-2-5-1, Carlton Daniels,

AKA Tug Daniels,

convicted February 20th, 2001,

attempted murder in the first degree.

Sentence: 28 years.

Up for parole in 14.

- The time for action has arrived.

Tug,

you waste Pancamo.

- Done.

- I want Morales.

- Why are so hell-bent on killing him?

- I made a promise

to avenge the death of Bian Yixue.

- Augustus, I want you to get word to Omar White

in the hospital ward

that he's to finish off Supreme Allah.

- Hey, Burr.

Listen, I've been thinking about

this little war we activating.

A lot of good men will die.

- A lot of them going to die in any case.

- But assuming you win, what you gonna gain?

The hacks will lock down this whole prison.

- Can't keep a lid on it forever.

- Warden finds out you're the ringleader,

he gonna send you to Solitary.

- Augustus, what the fuck's your problem?

- You were my father's best friend, right?

You and him went off to Vietnam together,

and you came back alone.

And since then, I have followed you.

I have done your bidding, never questioning, right?

- So, now you got questions.

- When I was ten years old, I wanted a real job.

- You wanted a paper route.

- Right--instead, you had me selling smack.

- Well, you got to learn the business.

- Why?

Why did I need to learn how to sell drugs?

- Because we didn't have any other options back then.

Let me tell you something.

I ain't going to apologize for who I am or what I done.

All right?

Do I wish things had of been better?

Sure.

Do I wish we'd been born in one of those fancy mansions

up there on Kellogg Boulevard, sure.

But I don't hope and I don't dream.

I take a shit in this world,

I see reality,

and I make the best of it.

- You ain't got to tell me about reality.

I live in Oz.

I live in this chair.

And I wouldn't be here if you'd let me have the goddamned,

motherfucking paper route.

The man is like a father to me.

- Well, there comes a time for every son

to leave his father's house.

Make his own way.

- Even so, I can't betray him.

- Do you believe what he's instigated is wrong?

- For the most part, yes.

- And do you believe that many people will suffer as a result?

- Yes.

- You know, I've always admired you, Augustus,

for being your own man,

for keeping, especially in this place--

a sense of decency and honor.

- What good has it ever done?

- You get to sleep through the night.

- I need to talk to you.

- So talk.

- In private.

- Yo, bro.

- What you want?

- Sip of water.

- I ain't no nurse.

- Come on, I'm so thirsty, man, please.

- Up, baby!

- Mmm, it's so good.

It's so good.

- Up! Up, baby!

Up, baby!

- Yo, throw the ball.

- Aah!

- Judgment day, motherfucker.

- Do not resist! - Okay, okay, okay.

- Lockdown!

- What? - Fuck that!

- Fucking breaking my balls, Murphy.

- Bullshit!

- When I was a kid, I used to love reading Jack London.

You know, "Call of the Wild", "White Fang."

I remember one story

where a man was in the middle of Alaska,

or somewhere, isolated and cold.

He lost his dog team, his legs were broken,

he realized he was gonna freeze to death.

So, he buried himself in the snow

and simply went to sleep.

Terrifying,

and yet beautiful.

Acceptance of one's fate,

the way any man should die.

- Giles, get up.

- We're a month away from the date set

by the court for your execution.

You'll have to decide which way you want to go.

- Die old...

Sleep.

- Yeah, well...

that's not an option.

- Peter--Peter Marie.

- I'll ask her to see you.

- Hey, don't you be crying, man.

Your crying's gonna bring me down.

- Stop your fucking crying!

- And then there's gas.

They put you in a little room

and...and drop a pellet of sodium cyanide...

Your lungs fill up and that's the end.

- Stoned?

- Gee, I don't know if that gas makes you high.

- No.

Rocks.

- I don't understand.

- Throw.

- Wait a minute.

You want to be stoned to death?

- Shirley Jackson.

- Moses, listen to me.

As your lawyer, I have to tell you,

there's a very good chance

that you're looking at another death sentence.

- So, we'll appeal that one, too.

- Yes.

But Congress has placed a lot of limitations

on death row appeals.

- Which means?

- Which means that you will probably be executed

for one or both of these crimes.

You have to prepare for what might be coming.

- Hmm.

You see, I ain't thought through that part of the situation.

Because I haven't given up hope.

I'm a man of principles, you understand?

And I believe down to the bottom of my soul

that a man with principles will be exonerated.

- It's always good to hope.

But just in case, you might want to make some plans.

You know?

Get your house in order.

- The state attorney general has refused your request

to be executed by being stoned to death.

- Law.

Right, mine.

- An anti-death penalty group has decided

to take up your cause.

They're going to sue the state on your behalf.

- This mess will probably drag out for decades.

- Peter--Peter Marie.

- Lights out.

- Giles?

Psst! Giles?

This whole time I thought you were a damned idiot

talking in flash cards,

but now I see you're a fucking genius.

- No, genius, no.

- Yes, genius, yes.

You were supposed to die in two weeks.

All your appeals dried up.

But by asking to be stoned to death,

you threw a wrench in the works.

Everybody's suing everybody.

And like the warden says,

this could take years to sort out.

- Die old.

Sleep.

- Oh, Giles, you are an inspiration

to us all, brother.

- I'm curious as to why you asked the warden to see me.

- I just finished reading your book.

It's awesome.

- Thank you.

- The section on Jefferson Keane,

being on death row and giving his kidney to his sister,

it really got to me.

- I still hear from Grace.

She's very happy, very healthy.

- Well, I want to do the same thing,

give my organs away,

let others make use of my insides

when I'm done with them.

The only thing is...

I want to meet the people I'm gonna help.

- I'm not sure that's allowed.

- You can make it happen, Said.

I know you can.

Power through faith.

- I'll see what I can do.

- Little brother, I stood where you are now.

And, yo, I know the need to be a man.

But being a man ain't fueled by drugs or fists

or banging your bitch.

Being a man starts here.

- Brother Salah's making another convert.

- Yes.

He has a way of talking to people on their level.

- You did a great job guiding him.

- Le-roy.

- What you want, Robson?

- I'm a patient man, a tolerant man.

But my friend Jaz here is not.

- He's right.

- We had a deal. Half the cash in advance

for you to whack Kareem Said.

But Said's still walking.

You said you had a long-term plan to get close to him.

Well, Jaz is feeling the clock has run out.

- Tick-tock, Leroy.

- First, my name ain't Leroy Tidd no more.

My name's Salah Udeen.

- Second,

I know I said I promised to kill Said,

but I've changed my mind.

- First, in order to change your mind,

you gotta have a mind.

And Le-roy...

you got shit for brains.

Second, you don't back out on the brotherhood.

- As-salaam alaikum.

- Don't give me that fucking hocus-pocus bullshit.

- Robson, you looking for jerk-off time in the Hole?

- Uh, no.

- Then goose-step your butt outta here.

- This shit ain't over.

- Salah...

you seem troubled.

- My soul is heavy, minister.

- So talk to me.

- I'm afraid.

Afraid to speak the truth.

- Never be afraid of the truth, my brother.

- I lied to you.

You see, when I first approached you

saying I wanted to become a Muslim,

I had vengeance in my heart... 'cause of what you did

killing Adebisi.

But then the bliss of Allah replaced the vengeance,

and now I'm a true believer.

- I knew the day that I embraced you,

that you were lying.

- You did?

- Mm-hmm.

- Then why?

- The ways of the Almighty are wondrous, indeed.

He brought us together at this time and this place

so that we could learn from each other.

- You learn from me?

How?

- That day I went to Adebisi and I swore my loyalty to him...

Since his death, I've been struggling with my demons.

Still do.

But you've taught me the world has many possibilities.

- Robson and Hoyt want you dead.

- I know.

- What are we gonna do?

- As with everything else...

We'll leave this in the hands of God.

- If you take care of this,

I'll bring you into the brotherhood.

- Fuck you, nigga!

- If you don't... I'll feed you to them.

- I'm ready to do whatever you need.

- No! No!

- Imam.

Salah is dead.

- I killed him, you know.

I killed him just like I killed Adebisi.

I might as well have had the knife in my hand...

In these bloody hands.

- Kareem...

- No.

Say nothing.

- But you can't blame yourself.

- Leave me,

because my demons need feeding.

Leave me!

- They say that every snowflake is different,

but how can they really be sure?

I mean, think about all the snowflakes that have fallen

all over the world throughout Earth's history.

Law of averages dictates that at least two of them

had to be similar.

Like human beings, like the men in Oz,

even if they start out unique,

they end up the same.