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♪
Because when it comes to finishing
ghosts' unfinished business,
our business is "boo-ming."
Ahem, and with the help of your investment,
we can take this thing all the way to the top.
But how? B-but how?
Very good question.
We're going to invest your money
using a very robust
three-point business plan.
Point number one,
-matching uniforms. -Obviously.
Number two,
-spend money to make money! -Spend money to make money!
[imitates explosion]
-And number three... -[sighs]
-...marketing. -We all know
that skywriter planes
are the most effective marketing tool
in the sky today.
You put something in the air,
-I'm gonna see it. -But, dang it, Clyde,
planes are so expensive!
Ah, if only there were a way
to make airborne messaging more affordable.
What if I told you there was?
-[coos] -"Pigeonvertising"!
Birds in T-shirts.
Guys, you want my honest opinion?
-Yes, please. -You're beating off
the wrong tree, all right?
I mean, even if I saw the bird wearing the shirt,
I don't think I'd care
'cause it's-- it's fucking stupid, you know?
Uh-huh. Yeah. No, I had that thought.
No, you said you liked the T-shirts.
Well, no. I said that I liked tank tops.
It doesn't have shoulders. It's a fucking bird.
Clyde, how many times do we have to go over this?
Are you kidding me?
Where are the fucking shoulders?
Guys, guys.
I'm sorry.
I'm out.
-Ah. -But...
I will give you my best business advice.
-Go bigger. -That's good. Do you have a pen?
That's the motto for my new dildo line.
It's the way I live my life.
All right. I've had over 97 casts taken of my dick
in the past three days, and I'll be honest with you,
the first one was pretty damn near perfect,
but I said go bigger.
You wanna play the game at my level?
You gotta get your dicks out and show the world
-how you fuck. -[unzips]
And by that, I mean get a high-profile case
-that makes headlines. -Oh.
Yeah. Shit. Yeah.
Okay, yep. No, good call.
That's another way to go.
♪
♪
Mr. Pacalioglu, welcome to San Damien Prison.
You didn't have any trouble getting here, did you?
No, no, no, no. No, the, uh--
the guards made quite the spectacle
of my arrival at the front gate,
but my pants are back on now
and I'm, uh-- I'm feeling good.
Listen, as I mentioned in my email,
I don't have a lot of money in the budget.
-Mm-hmm. -But I'm hoping this case
could be some decent exposure for you.
I don't wanna say we're "the" celebrity prison,
but any rapist or murderer whose name you would know
has come through here at some point.
That is exactly the kind of case I'm looking for.
So, uh, do you mind telling me what's going on?
Cell doors opening on their own.
Mm-hmm.
Floating markers drawing penises
on my guards' faces.
Got it. Okay.
Very interesting.
Okay, do you mind showing me
where the haunting has occurred?
Mm-hmm. I see.
I'm not sure if it's meant to be threatening
or sensual.
Hush, hush, hush, hush.
Okay, now we can clean it off.
Oh. [clears throat]
Excuse me. Hi.
What is a beautiful woman like you
doing in a place like this?
-Uh, you can see me? -Yeah.
I can. What-- what do you got there?
You got a hummingbird on your boo-- your breast?
I'm dead, dude, and hard-core lesbian.
Oh! No, no, no. I'm not-- I'm not hitting on you.
I'm not even sure how to do that, really.
I just-- just admiring
your hummingbird tattoo, honestly.
Um, I have 67 tattoos on my body.
You like the one generic one on my tit?
Okay, I feel like
maybe we got off on the wrong tit here,
so I'm just gonna-- I'm gonna take it back.
I'm trying to figure out what you're doing here,
if you have any unfinished business
that I can help you with of any kind.
I was in the middle of inking someone when I died.
I can't leave that canvas unfinished.
Okay, tattoo. Easy-peasy.
-Got it. Let's go. -It's a very special tattoo.
A windmill.
Owen, my canvas,
he grew up by a windmill on the shores of Cape Cod.
He played by it every day with his brother.
He wanted that tattoo to commemorate
the happiest time of his life
before things got tough.
Before he ended up here.
Cool.
Windmill. Got it. Let's go.
I guess I saw a piece of myself in that tattoo.
Sure, I've said that about a lot of tattoos,
but this one was...
-different. -Still talking?
-Innocent. -Fine.
-Pure like... -Come on.
...Mozart or Shakespeare
or Patti Smith.
Are you still talking?!
Well, she's a bit of a motormouth, inked-up dink,
but, uh, the job seems pretty straightforward, fortunately.
All I have to do is get this Owen guy out,
finish his tattoo, she'll go into her light,
and Bob's your uncle, we're back in business.
-Oh, perfect. -Yeah.
-One small problem. -Okay.
We can't just take an inmate out,
give them a tattoo, and then stick them back in
because he's gonna look like a rat.
Oh, okay. Well, you know,
the tricky thing about ghosts
is that they wants what they wants.
Mm, can't take him out,
so we'll just send you in.
That seems more complicated than the words made it sound.
Damn it.
[door opens]
And this is where you'll be staying.
And this is Giovanni.
He is as non-violent as they come.
Just a very mediocre bank robber.
Hi, I'm Pac.
Pac, pleasure to meet you.
-Yeah. -And what else?
Uh, oh, gym time's in 10.
And I think that's everything.
-[chuckles] -Holler if you need me.
-Yeah, yeah. Oh, shit. -[door buzzes]
First time? You seem nervous.
Uh, yeah, I've, ahem,
been in holding cells, for sure,
but, uh, you know, this is definitely more...
full-on incarceration than I'm used to.
Well, the good thing about prison
is you have all the time to figure it out.
Look at me, 42,
-learning how to read. -Good for you, man.
That's, uh-- that's a good attitude.
Attitude's all we got.
Now, if you'll excuse me,
I'm just under a month away
from finishing chapter two.
Yeah, okay. Yeah, don't let me stop you.
-[clears throat] -Chapter two is the best.
Ah! What the fuck are you doing?
What? I was just--
-Huh? -I was just gonna take a pee.
No! Don't pee in the toilet.
That's where I make my toilet wine.
Pee in the sink like a normal person.
Jesus, what the hell's wrong with you?
They arrest you for being stupid?
No!
Just kidding.
But seriously, pee in the sink.
Okay.
"Pant-i-yes.
Panties. Pa..."
"Panties. Pulled down my panties."
Let's go, let's go, let's go!
Yeah, I mean, that's basically it.
Yeah, it's a windmill.
I know what a windmill looks like.
Okay, but that's not really...
-Oh, whatever. Where's the guy? -Over there.
See? I barely even got those fan blades started.
It's just an unfinished mess.
Is that a windmill?
Yeah! See, I mean, you can't even fucking tell.
It's humiliating.
Way to go, baby. Give it to him.
-Hurry up. -The fuck are you looking at?
Oh, no. Don't worry.
He's a really gentle guy.
It's just the system has changed him.
Pussy.
I'm just saying that maybe your unfinished windmill
is his finished swastika.
What? Swastika?
No, those are the sun-soaked fan blades
of a happy windmill-- innocent and pure.
Okay.
I mean, if you don't finish it,
yeah, it looks a little... swastik-y.
All right.
I'm just saying.
Whoo. Hello, hey, brothers. What are you watching, huh?
-Oh, shit! Whoa! -[TV turns off]
I'm sorry. Oh, shit!
I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry about that.
That is my bad and I am gonna fix it.
Look at this. Oh, shit, it's that thing
where the prong is bent in the wrong direction.
Bend it back and I-- I'll plug it in.
Just give me a couple seconds here. I can do it.
Shit! No, that's gonna break.
[exhales]
How-- how fucking white are we, right?
So fucking white, man!
You could shut off the lights in this room
and everything would still glow.
[laughs] You know what I mean?
I should go. I should probably go.
You fuck with me time, you live on borrowed time.
-White power. -White power!
[clangs]
Back in your cells. Let's go.
-Back through here? -Yep.
Okay, cool. Wow, that escalated quick, huh?
-Yeah. Yeah. -[sighs]
That's kind of the way it works in here.
Yeah, I'm getting that.
Yeah, you want my advice,
you lay low, you be your own best friend.
Oh, it's just I need to get to Owen somehow, you know?
He's surrounded by his Nazi buddies
and I just-- I don't think they like me very much.
-Nah, they don't. -Fuck.
Gotta get him alone, you know,
or send him a message.
Can you send people messages in here?
Well, you know, I might be able to help.
-Really? -Mm-hmm.
Of course, in here we trade favors for favors.
Oh, sure, sure, sure! Yeah, anything.
[stammering] Well, I mean, not anything,
but, you know, within reason.
What did you have in mind?
Read to me?
Read to you?
-So I will just read. -Mm-hmm.
Do you have anywhere in particular you want me to start?
-No. Anywhere is fine. -Okay.
Just snuggle in and read. Here we go.
Okay.
"Mr. Green unlatched the velvet strap from her heels
and quietly removed the shoes from her feet.
-[bed squeaking] -He was"-- what's that noise?
Hmm? Nothing.
Keep reading.
You're a really good reader.
-I am? -Yeah.
-Awesome. -Thanks, man.
-Yeah. -[chuckles] Okay.
-Mm-hmm. -"sniffing at her toes
as he bit his lip and quietly removed his pants."
It's that. That sound right there. Do you hear that?
-Huh? I don't know. -You don't hear that?
No. It's jail. Sounds like jail.
-Just read. -Jail sounds crazy.
Okay.
-[cooing] -See? Bird shirts
is a good idea, Danny.
[thuds]
Uh...
oh, wing holes!
Fuck me, wing holes!
Sorry, bird.
[chatter]
Oh, he's alone.
Uh, hey. Hi, sorry.
I just-- I'm-- excuse me.
Sorry, diabetic coming through.
[stammering] I just need-- I have low blood sugar.
I gotta-- I gotta talk to this guy.
Excuse me. Hey. Hey, man.
What's up? It's Owen, right?
Better back the fuck off, man.
Hey, so listen, I'm really sorry about earlier.
I ain't looking for no friends,
you fake-white doughboy motherfucker.
Okay, I'll cut the small talk.
I'm here about a tattoo.
I-- fucking shit! [groans]
Windmill. Windmill. Shores of Cape Cod.
You used to play with your little brother.
Happiest time of your life. [groans]
Where the fuck did you hear that?
If you remove the fork from my hand,
I'll gladly tell you.
Ah, thank God.
-Okay, so-- -Shh, shh, shh, shh.
Go eat lunch.
Wait for my signal, then meet me in the bathroom.
If anyone asks, we're talking about raping you, all right?
Fantastic. Okay. Is that pudding?
[chatter]
He gets fucking pulled over by the cops.
I mean, the guy's dead.
Are you sure you're even white, dude?
[groans]
That was for you, Pac!
Riot!
No.
[men chanting]
You're fucking dead!
All right, bunk check!
Everybody back in their fucking cells!
Yeah, that's good. How do we get back?
This way? Okay. Excuse me.
-Why did you shank him? -You wanted to send a message!
-Yeah, not that message! -W-what kind of message?
I'd like to finish your tattoo.
-I don't have a tattoo. -No, that was the message!
Oh. You could've just told me that.
No shit.
Hey there. Don't let it scare you.
These things are like rain in Miami.
-Okay. -It'll pass.
So, here's what we're gonna do--
[grunting, groaning]
-Oh, God! -Oh, shit! Oh, my God.
-[yelling] -No, no, no, no, no!
Jesus! Can one of you open the door, please?
A little help over here!
A little help. Hey, buddy, a little help?
-[screams] -Mr. Warden?
Sir, can you hear me?
I need your keys so I can go home.
Hey! What about my tattoo?
Oh, you know what? I would love to finish your tattoo,
but I'm right smack-dab
in the middle of a race riot right now, so--
unless you know of a better way to get out of here.
I know a way out.
So I'm gonna need you to dig around
in those pockets of yours and hand me
whatever keys I need to get going.
I never bring my keys to a riot.
That would make me their first target. [scoffs]
-Yeah. [blows raspberry] -But don't worry.
-I got a better plan. -Uh, I bet you don't.
Prison break. It's the only way for me
to finish the job I started when I came to this place.
We've been underfunded for 25 years
and the politicians don't give a damn.
But if an inmate were to escape,
especially one as out of shape and unimpressive as you,
well, now that sends a message they can't ignore.
-Oh, I bet it would. -I feel like this plan
is a little bit more insulting than the last one.
As long as it gets me to that tattoo,
-I'm in. -Are you serious?
You know what? Fuck you guys.
Fuck your tattoo. Fuck your stupid plans.
You make it sound so simple
and then it's Nazis and neck stabs all day long.
-Pac! -What? Oh!
Snap out of it! You're talking to empty hallways, man!
You're letting prison get to you!
Giovanni, I appreciate where you're coming from,
but right now, I really need you to let me do my thing, okay?
Fuck you! I'm in. Break me out.
Perfect. We'll do it all with simple household objects.
♪
[screams]
Who's Allen?
Oh, an Allen wrench.
♪
Here you go. Get that scent.
Now go to Pac.
♪
Hey, I'm having a little indigestion.
[exhales] The carrier pigeon is in flight.
Great. What's next?
Next, we wait for nightfall.
Help! There's something wrong with him!
[moaning]
He just started vomiting at the puss.
[grunts]
I'm sorry! I'm sorry.
Thank you for your service.
Okay, okay.
You sure you don't wanna come with me?
No. I belong here.
But you keep up your end of the deal.
I will.
Promise me, Pac.
-Promise me! -I promise!
-Oh, shit, it worked. -[cooing]
Like a Swiss fucking watch.
Fuck, shit!
Fuck.
Hey. Hey.
[cooing]
Psst, psst, psst, psst. [clicks tongue] Come here.
Fuck.
God, I wish I had something to feed you. I--
Hang on a tick.
Hey, hey, hey, hey.
You like Seltza-Fizz?
-Huh? -[coos]
Want a little Seltzy? A little Fizzy? Huh?
Yeah. It's kind of like a shitty Halloween candy, right?
Go for it, come on. Oh.
Oh, something's--
-[explosion] -Oh!
[spits]
Right. That's what happens
when you feed Seltza-Fizz to a bird.
Shit. Oh.
I'm sorry. Thank you for your service.
[kisses]
Hey, here comes the easy part.
Use those keys to get into the guards' bathroom.
Go to the second stall under the floor bolts
-and remove the toilet. -Wait,
I'm going through a toilet?
It's the biggest pipe we have
and it's our best chance
of squeezing this pig through the straw
-if you know what I mean. -Yeah, the fat comments
are coming through loud and clear, thank you very much.
-Oh, shit! -I'm gonna fuck you
-through these bars! -I don't consent to that!
-[grunting] -[yelling]
-[grunting] -[panting]
Get back here, you fucking cocktease!
[exhales]
Let's do this.
[bolt squeaking]
♪
[bolt squeaks]
Hello?
Huh.
Must be hearing ghost farts.
-[farts] -[bolt squeaks]
-[farts] -[bolt squeaks]
-[farting] -[bolt squeaking]
[exhales]
[toilet flushes]
♪
[grunts]
Oh, sure,
I'll take a high-profile case.
Ah, yeah.
Prison sounds like a great fucking idea.
[groans] And then can I crawl through tunnels
full of human shit
while white people try and kill me?
Oh, yeah, who doesn't fucking love that?
This guy! I--
Oh, oh, shit! [spits]
Oh, God! Oh, I got shit in my mouth.
Oh, that's definitely shit. [spits]
Oh, fuck.
[exhales]
♪
[sniffs, sighs]
Hey, guard, there's a prison break!
Uh, we got a situation.
Check the security of your cell block.
[urinating]
♪
[alarm blaring]
Hey, I know that guy.
Dump the body in the hole. Get in the bag.
Oh, right. Yeah, okay.
What hole? Dump it in what hole?
Hey, asshole! I asked you for one thing.
Okay, you know what? I'm just gonna
make my way to freedom first
-and then we'll talk next steps. -Oh, really?
What if I make a bunch of noise?
Don't, don't, don't, don't! Stop!
Okay. Shh. Stop, stop. Okay.
I'll finish the fucking tattoo.
Wait a second.
We don't have a tattoo gun.
How were we gonna deal with that originally?
It's a prison tat. You make it work. That's art.
You start with an idea, you work with the reality,
and where the two meet, beauty is blossoming
like a-- like a tiny tangerine--
Shh, okay, shut up. You're not even
making sense anymore.
-Well... -I figured it out.
-Make a little incision here. -Oh...
-Oh, fuck. -See, I wouldn't have
done it that way.
That's a lot more blood than I thought.
-Okay. -Yeah...
-You're like a five-year-old. -Hold on. Stop talking, please.
Okay, look at that. Boom. Windmill.
That looks like a penis with a fan on it.
What? You clearly have not seen very many penises in your life.
Look at it, it's a windmill!
Ah.
Okay, fine. Shut up. I'll make a door.
Here we go.
There we go. One door.
Oh, yeah, yeah, now I see it.
-Yeah? -It's different.
I like it.
-I love it. -Really?
You guys like it?
I mean,
I usually consider myself more of a colorer than a drawer,
but, you know, once you lock into a theme, it's like--
Oh, I'm sorry.
Was I talking too much?
What a cunt!
Uh, eyes on the prize, fat boy.
[radio chatter]
Oh, shit.
Uh, sorry, buddy.
[alarm continues]
[sneezes]
I'm alive?
I'm alive! [laughs]
I just wanna say sorry for the mix-up.
We have no record of your arrest or why you're here,
so we're legally required to let you go.
-Oh. -But the good news is
this little snafu has ruffled enough feathers
that we're finally gonna get the funding we need
to ensure a safe and secure prison moving forward.
Guess it worked out after all, huh?
[clicks tongue]
-Ahem. -After all,
if someone as unathletic and mentally dull as yourself
broke into our prison and then got out--
Yeah, all right, I don't need the whole explanation, okay?
I just wanna go home, have a hot toddy,
put this high-profile case on my website.
Uh, no, we can't let you do that.
Testimonial?
Sorry.
-Can I get paid? -No.
-Ah. -But thank you for your service.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, sure, sure, sure, sure.
Yeah.
-Inmate, package! -[door buzzes]
Hey, G. As promised, my end of the bargain. P.
"50 Shades of Green" by S.E. Tabernacle.
Audio recording by Kevin Pacalioglu.
Chapter One: Seduction.
-[zipper unzips] -"Anastasia was
a painfully shy girl.
She always had been.
At times in her life, she'd often mistaken"...
♪
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