02x04 - For Blood or Money

Previously on Justified...

Y'all stay down and quiet.

Cutter: Hoo-hoo!

Looks like Christmas come early.

[ Police radio chatter ]

Doyle: Good day, gentlemen.

Raylan: Doyle.

Tom: Chief.

Doyle: I know you two don't hold the local PD in the highest regard, but y'all find anything or need a hand, y'all let me know.

Tell me who hired you to hit that bus.

Cutter: It was your brother Dickie.

Doyle: I just found out you two are responsible for hijacking a shipment of oxy, and I got to kill two morons to keep your asses out of jail?

You know who that bus belonged to?

Dickie: The boys up in Frankfort.

Doyle: Yeah, that's right.

Dickie: I ain't afraid of Frankfort.

Doyle: What about if mama found out? You afraid of mama?

Kyle: I came here to offer you something.

I should have come clean at the mine.

I know who you are.

Boyd: You don't know anything about me.

Kyle: Wait a second, will you?

Turn that engine off.


Jesus Christ!

Boyd: Jesus Christ.

We can talk about him, pal.


[ Indistinct talking ]

[ Music slows ]

Dickie: Looks like we got company.

[ Music stops ]

Raylan: Loretta McCready.

What brings you up this way?

Loretta: Might ask you the same question.

Doyle: Raylan, what's this all about?

Come up for a little Sunday dinner?

Raylan: Well, you know how the job is, Doyle.

Doyle: Yeah.

Raylan: Nights and weekends is when all the good stuff happens.

Doyle: [ Chuckles ]

Raylan: Task force never rests.

Doyle: Task force?

Raylan: What, they didn't, uh...

Well, I'm sure they'll be contacting you directly.

Doyle: Well, task force or no, you're stepping outside yourself, showing up at my family home, aren't you?

Raylan Givens, uninvited don't mean unwelcome, Doyle.

You missed lunch, can I fix you a plate?

Raylan: Oh, no, I'm fine.

But I did bring you something.

Mags: Ooh! Apple pie.

Raylan: Of course, it don't compare to your home brew.

Mags: Be a new batch soon.

I'll set you back a jar with your name on it.

Raylan: I appreciate that.

I also got some things here for the kids, if it's all right.

Oh, come here, guys.

Marshal's service is big on trinkets.

Go ahead and take one.

There you go.

And that there is Eastern Kentucky's official marshal's coin.

Loretta: How much is it worth?

Raylan: It's not for spending, just collecting.

Doyle: "Justice is coming."


Mags: Uh, Doyle, you take Loretta on, and you entertain the kids.

Grown-ups need to chew the fat here.

Go on now.

Loretta: Yes, ma'am.

Mags: Go on, all of you.

You too, Doyle.

Way she tells it, you saved her life.

Raylan: Well, looks like there's a lot of us looking after her these days.

Mags: What's that they say?

Takes a village?

Raylan: Something like that.

Might we have a word, Mags?

Of course you're all welcome to listen.

Don't mind them.

What's on your mind?

Wondering if you know of a man with the name of Bobby Lawton?

Name doesn't ring a bell.

Fellow who got killed on that Oxy bus few days back.

Turns out he was a foot soldier for the Dixie Mafia out of Frankfort.

Dixie Mafia, Lord... That sounds like a mighty dangerous outfit.

And they've been known to be, yeah...

Such that, hittin' their drug pot line ain't something we imagine that these hijackers would have undertaken on their own initative.

I believe your boy Doyle inquired as to who they work for.

Yeah, I asked them... They drew down on me.

Right, had no choice but to put them down.

That's about right.

Well, one of the hijackers, named Elrod Platt, we got his cellphone records.

Week before the hijacking show he had numerous conversations with Dickie.

Yes he did speak to Dickie, I spoke to Elrod about buying an ATV for the business.

Raylan: We may never be able to prove otherwise.

But I want you to know that I know what's going on... out of respect.

Dickie: Mama, I swear...

Mags: Shut it!

Marshal, you know I deal a little weed.

Raylan: Mm-hmm.

Mags: And man of your age, you can't tell me you hadn't smoked a little reefer.

Raylan: I can't.

Mags: And you know my position on oxy and meth and the rest.

Raylan: As you've stated it, yes, ma'am.

Mags: And yet you find it acceptable to come in here and bust in on my family dinner, asking if I've had a hand in robbing a bus full of sh1t from a bunch of Frankfort peckerwoods.

Raylan: Mags, I never asked if you robbed that bus.

Mags: No, no, no.

You're just being all clever, insinuating without asking.

Trying to stir things up... that it?

Raylan: You tell me, Mags.

Is it working?

Mags: Let me ask you something, Raylan.

Raylan: Fire away.

Mags: Why do you care so much?

Raylan: I'm sorry?

Mags: Come on, now, child.

Gonna sit there on my lumber and tell me this has got nothing to do with the history between our families?

With why my boy there hasn't walked right for the past 21 years?

Raylan: Frankfort mob gonna come over that hill bringing hell with them because of that bus.

They'll stay till they've bled this county white.

Whatever our family history, Mags... that's why I care.

Mags: Sure I can't fix you a plate?

Raylan: No, thank you.

Mags: How about some dessert?

Raylan: Nice of you to offer.

You all enjoy the rest of your supper, hmm?

Mags: Why didn't you tell me?!

Doyle: I had nothing to do with it.

Mags: Oh, other than shooting a couple of assholes to keep them from talking!

Doyle: Yeah, well, that.

Dickie: Look. I thought this was a good deal. I did.

And I know how you feel about Oxy, but the thing is...

I don't give a sh1t what you think!

What I do give a sh1t about are our bigger plans, which do not need a federal marshal snooping around!

Dickie: So... what are we gonna do about Raylan Givens?

Doyle: What do you mean?

Dickie: Wha... what do I mean?

I think she wants us to kill him.

Doyle: Have you not been listening?

Coover: Yeah.

She said she didn't want him snooping around.

Dickie: That's right.

Doyle: You have any idea the federal shitstorm we'd bring down if we killed a marshal?

We're talking black hawk-helicopter time.


[ Sighs ]

I don't want either of you two doing sh1t or even contemplating doing sh1t until you run it by someone who can think.

[ Sighs ]

♪ On this lonely road ♪
♪ trying to make it home ♪
♪ doing it by my lonesome ♪
♪ pissed off, who wants some? ♪
♪ I'm fighting for my soul ♪
♪ God get at your boy ♪
♪ you try to bogard ♪
♪ fall back, I go hard ♪
♪ on this lonely road ♪
♪ trying to make it home ♪
♪ doing it by my lonesome ♪
♪ pissed off, who wants some? ♪
♪ I see them long, hard times to come ♪

[ Knock on door ]

Boyd: It's open.

Is the music too loud?

Ava: Little bit.

What are you reading?

Boyd: "Of Human Bondage."

Ava: I don't know that.

Boyd: Yeah, I just started.

Ava: Little stuffy in here.

Boyd: I don't mind.

Ava: It's nicer out on the porch.

Wigs are popular again.

Starting to cut into business, although there was this one woman yesterday... She wanted me to add curls to hers.

She brought it in on a foam head, put it up in my chair, like it was a real person.

You believe that?

Boyd: That's something.

Ava: She didn't tip for sh1t, either.

I hate doing wigs.

Boyd: You know, I always wondered what I'd look like with long hair.

Ava: [ Chuckles ]

That is a funny image, Boyd.

Boyd: I'm serious.

I thought if I had long hair, I might be the lead singer in a rock band.

Ava: [ Chuckles ]

Boyd: I love music.

Ava: Well, can you sing?

Boyd: No.

No, I can't sing... not a lick.

But my grandmother, she could sing.

She would sing out in the backyard, and I'd sit and listen to her.

It calmed me.

Ava: Well, life is long.

Boyd: Yeah.

Boyd: Ava, you best go inside.

Ava: Friends of yours?

Boyd: Go on in and lock the door.

Stop right there.

I'm afraid I owe you an apology.

What I did to you was uncalled for.

It's just that I get confused in my head whenever I think about such painful things.

Kyle: [ Laughs ]

It's all right, Boyd.

It ain't what we're here for.

Boyd: What are you here for?

Kyle: You know my buddy Pruitt.

Feels real bad about how he talked to you at the mine.

This is Marcus.

Here you go.

Hey, thanks.

Later's got a hard-on for you.



You know what this chart is dawg?

Service law.

You were scheduled to service the main bathroom last night.


Nobody likes to mop up piss and sh1t homes, think I don't know that?

I must have misread, I did kitchen duty instead.

Well that's one hell of a screw up.

Ok, I'll get on it right now.

No sit down.

But if you want me, We're not done til I say we're done.


You're a good homeboy, so I'm gonna walk it out.

I snorted, shot, drank, grundled, and douched more junk before I was 30 than Rick James did in his lifetime.

And I'm still kicking.

You want to know why?

Because I am the stair master.

Yeah, I climb all 12 steps dozens of times, every day.

Clinton: And that's admirable.

Olander: You skipped out on your responsibilities.

And now there's a price to pay.

You need to make an inventory, and I want you to make amends.

Clinton: Okay, all right.

There are no excuses, all right?

Olander: Oh, I know.

And that's why I canceled your day pass.

Now, I want you to go upstairs, work on your self-appraisal, and be at the 3:00 meeting.

Clinton: Don't do that. I got some real big...

Olander: I know about your plans.

You'll have to reschedule for next week.

Clinton: It won't be his birthday next week.

Olander: This is a baby bitch slap.

If I was really upset, I'd yank your chain all the way back to correction.

Clinton: Bullshit!

Olander: Ding-dong!

You just earned yourself a 30-day-pass suspension.

You can use the month to work on your lack of respect!

Now get out of my office.


Mr. Arnett, this is Deputy Marshal Raylan Given.

Not our first tango.

Raylan, you just have a seat.

How do you take your coffee?

Oh, no nothing for me thank you.

Well, the usual for me Yvette, make two in case the Deputy changes his mind.

You want a Locké? Mr. Arnett likes Locké.

Oh, he'll have a nudge...


Is that Piper Van Winkle?

Yeah, Frankfort's own.

This particular concoction is a private single barrel made especially for me.

Takes the edge of those bitter beans.

Thank you.

You're welcome.

Just give me a buzz if you need anything.

Oh you know I will.


Raylan: Are you wearing pants?

Arnett: I like to maintain my creases.

Stay sharp.

Raylan: Oh.

I suppose there's no reason to get up.

Hoping to have a civil discussion, avoid the gunplay that erupted last time I saw you.

Arnett: Yes, that was unfortunate.

But, you know, it's because of that wild day that I agreed to this meeting.

Raylan: Is that right?

Arnett: Quite frankly, I owe you one.

You advised Gary to sign over that mall property to me.

Raylan: That's not why I'm here.

Arnett: I sold that property, and I took the money, and I invested in foreclosures.

So when the market bounces back, I'm gonna be managing a multimillion-dollar fortune in Kentucky bluegrass.

Raylan: So you are legitimate now.

The Frankfort branch of the Dixie mafia has lost its best wheeler-dealer.

Arnett: You believe in the Dixie mafia, I got me a toy factory in the North Pole you should invest in.

Raylan: Mmm.

Does Yvette know about any of the sh1t you did before real estate?

Arnett: Oh, Yvette has no interest in my past.

Makes her so special.

Raylan: Oh.

And what about the new associates?

Do they know your résumé?

Arnett: Are you blackmailing me?

Raylan: No, this is just good, old-fashioned leverage.

Arnett: Well, putting aside that you've jumped to some rather scandalous conclusions about me, I can absolutely assure you you're talking to the wrong guy here.

Raylan: Who should I be talking to?

Arnett: You might try the guy who tried to kill me on that wild day.

Raylan: Wynn Duffy?

Arnett: I hear he's taken over some management responsibilities with a certain organization I have no interest in being affiliated with.

Raylan: That doesn't even exist, anyway.

Well, if you talk to him... and I'm gonna assume you will... will you tell him that oxy bus he lost down in Harlan?

He should just write that off.

If he goes down there, chopping off limbs, I'm gonna personally turn him inside out.

Would you tell him that for me?

Arnett: Well, as I said...

Raylan: Would you tell him that for me?

Arnett: If I talk to him.

Roxanne: Oh, dear lord!

Olander: [ Moaning ]

[ Coughs ]

Roxanne: Was it Vinnie?


Olander: Clinton.

Roxanne: Do I call the police or the marshals?

Olander: No, we're not calling anybody.

Roxanne: What?

Olander: I'm gonna bring him back.

[ Groans ]

I know where he's going.

[ Telephone rings ]

[ Knock on door ]

Gary: Hey.

Winona: Hi.

You still do that before you show a house?

Gary: What, vanilla on foil? Of course.

Ten minutes at 350, smells like fresh cookies baking.

[ Chuckles ]

You know, every room in the Biltmore mansion was connected to the kitchen, so anyone staying there would wake to the smell of...

Winona: Fresh bread, yeah. I know.

Gary: Told you that before, huh?

Winona: Once or twice.

Gary: [ Chuckles ]

Well, thanks for coming by.

Winona: Listen, Gary.

Raylan told me that you talked and what you said.

Gary: Huh.

I didn't think he'd do that.

Winona: I just want you to know that anything that happened with us happened after you moved out, okay?

Gary: Thank you for that.

But the truth is, you wouldn't have gone back to Raylan if I hadn't screwed up.

Winona: Yeah, why did you do that, Gary?

Why did you tell him that you were gonna try and get me back?

Gary: I wanted him to know.

Oh, it wasn't because you wanted me to know?

Well, I was hoping you already knew.

Winona, I love you.

I have never stopped.

And I do want you back, simple as that.

Well, how you plan on doin' that Gary?

You know, fixin' everything that happened. Restoring that trust, cause I tell you what, it's gonna take more than foyle and vanilla.

Yeah well, that's why I asked you to come over.

Now I know, the only way to restore trust is to be dead straight honest.

Not hide anything I might wanna hide.

Alright, so what is it?

We need to get a divorce.

Hey, what's goin' on?

A call came in from a receptionist at the half-way house where my brother-in-law Clinton was assigned for parole.

Apparently Clinton beat the sh1t out of his program manager and took off.

Raylan: Your brother-in-law is on parole?

Rachel: Long story.

Art: The receptionist sat on her ass for over an hour before she called it in.

Tim: The program manager told her not to.

He said he knew where Clinton was headed, and he wanted to bring him in himself.

Raylan: Does the receptionist know where he's headed?

Tim: Nope.

Rachel: It's my nephew, Nick... Clinton's son... it's his birthday.

I'm guessing he'll make a beeline toward Nick's school.

You already put a BOLO out on him?

Art: Nah, I figured since he's your brother-in-law, I'd just let it slide.

Rachel: We'll need a team to lock down Nick's campus.

Art: Absolutely, but you won't be taking lead.

Rachel: Chief...

Art: No.

You just get Nick, and you bring him back here.

Raylan, you set up and wait.

Raylan: Hey, how much of a bad guy is her brother-in-law?

"Heads in a duffel bag," or just an asshole?

Art: He killed her sister.

[ Engine stops ]

Clinton: Flex.

Flex: Ahh!

You look good.

Clinton: Been a long while, bro.

Flex: Better than last time I saw you.

Clinton: Can we spit?

Flex: Get in.

Clinton: Cool.

[ Clears throat ]

Flex: You better not be looking to score. I'm out of the trade.

Clinton: Okay.

Flex: I'm becoming a magician, like that "Mindfreak" guy.

I'm gonna be the first big, badass black magician.

Learning all the basics on YouTube.

I can do sh1t with a coin would make your eyes pop out.

[ Laughs ]

Clinton: You got a name for your act?

Flex: Just Flex.

Not "The Amazing Flex" or none of that sh1t.

Just Flex.

Got muscle and attitude.

How you been?

You look clean.

Clinton: I quit after I copped to the truth.

Flex: You ain't looking to score, what you out here for?

Clinton: I got this here for my little man.

It's his birthday.

Flex: What is that?

Clinton: Before I went in, this here is all he ever wanted.

That and go to Billy the Kidzone.

It's like Chuck E. Cheese... Pizza, games... only with cowboys.

Flex: How old's your boy?

Clinton: 12 today.

[ Laughs ]

Anyhow, I got to go pick him up from school today.

Catch a ride?

Flex: No can do. I got errands.

Clinton: Okay. Spot me $100.

I got to be at man o' war before 3:00.

Won't make it fooling around on that bus, you know.

Flex: Strict policy, chief.

I don't loan out money.

Clinton: $75... I get you right back.

Flex: This conversation's done.

Get out.

Clinton: Do me a solid, man.

I'm trying to go get my boy.

This is bullshit, man.

It's real bullshit!

Since when did you become such a pussy?!

Flex: Since you became a bitch. Get your ass out.

Get yo hands off me!

Get yo hands off me!

Flex: Hey, hey! Aah!



Come back here!


You hurt my hand!

[ Door creaks ]

Boyd: Can I leave the door open?

Ava: Open's good.

What are you gonna tell them?

I heard the whole thing. Don't even bother lying about it.

Boyd: Well, I wasn't gonna lie to you about it.


I'm gonna tell them no.

Ava: That's not what you said last night.

Boyd: Well, I said I'd think about it.

Ava: You know I won't tolerate criminal activity.

Boyd: Well, I have no interest in that.

Ava: Then why didn't you just say no when they asked?

Boyd: I was being polite.

Ava: Polite?

Boyd: Polite.

Ava, you have my word.

You have a good day.

Suspect approaching... black Chevy Chevelle with racing stripes.

Raylan: U.S. marshals!

I work with your sister-in-law, Rachel Brooks.

Your son is in a safe place.

Clinton: Just came to give my boy a gift.

Raylan: Give it to me. I'll see he gets it.

Now I need you to shut off your car...

[ Gunshot ]

Nice car.

[ Indistinct talking ]

Nick: Here's one for you.

Rachel: Huh?

Nick: I found you a husband.

Rachel: Are you on a dating site?

You were supposed to be playing solitaire.

Hmm. It's funny.

I know, he's old and he's white, but he get's out in three years.

Raylan: Hey, Winona.

Winona: Raylan.

Raylan: You okay?

Winona: Yeah, I'm fine.

Why, do I not look okay?

Raylan: Well, you look, uh...

It's just. I got to...

Winona: I'm not okay.

Raylan: I'm sorry.

Winona: For what?

Raylan: Whatever I did or didn't do.

Winona: Why do you assume that when I'm upset, I'm upset with you?

Raylan: You're usually upset with me.

Winona: That's true.

Raylan: Hmm.

Winona: Gary asked me to his office.

He said we need to get a divorce.

Raylan: Wonderful.

I mean, I'm so sorry.

Winona: He only said it because our mortgage is upside down.

We owe more on the house than what it's worth.

Raylan: I know what "upside down" means.

Winona: Okay.

I guess he figures that if we get a divorce, then I can give him the house in the agreement, and then he's the only one who's gonna be dragged under in all this, and that would make me feel guiltier than sh1t, because the only reason we have this great, big house is because I wanted one.

Raylan: He's a damn genius.

He suggests divorce, knowing you'd feel too guilty to follow through.

Well-played, Gary.

Winona: What are you talking about?

Raylan: He's just trying to show you he's a good guy.

Winona: And somehow being a good guy is underhanded?

Raylan: He's just trying to win you back.

Winona: I still don't see why that's such a big problem.

Raylan: How much you need to keep the house?

Winona: Why?

Is that gonna be your big play to win me?

Raylan: I have savings.

Winona: Oh.

How much?

Raylan: $800, $900, easy.

Winona: [ Laughs ]

Raylan: I really should go.

Winona: Okay.

Raylan: What's up, Nick?

Nick: I have a bunch of these already.

Raylan: Well, now you got one more.

What are you doing?

Nick: Finding Rachel a husband.

Rachel: Nick, go get a soda.

Nick: You're gonna end up bitter and alone.

Rachel: You let Clinton get away.

Raylan: You take this call?

Rachel: Five minutes ago.

Raylan: What's he want?

Rachel: I don't know.

I took down the number. Be grateful for that.

Anything on the partial?

Art: The only Chevelle with those letters belongs to a drug dealer...

Rachel: Look no further.

Art: ...By the name of Ralph Beeman.

Goes by the name of Flex.

I put out a BOLO on him.

Anything from your mother?

Rachel: No. I tried calling. There's no response.

I'm heading there now.

Art: Do you want to go there?

Or do you need to go there?

You honestly think I wanna cap my brother-in-law?

Art: Raylan, go with her.

Raylan: You want me to shoot him?

Just reading his file here.

How did he, uh...

Rachel: Kill my sister?

Raylan: Mm-hmm.

Rachel: Driving while high.

Wrapped their miata around a telephone pole.

Shawnee went through the windshield.

[ Doorbell rings ]

Rachel: Ma, open up!

[ Doorbell rings ]



[ Muffled shouting ]

Diana: He kept saying he wanted my car.

I said I flushed the key.

Rachel: Did you?

Diana: No, but it sounded good.

Rachel: And then you started shooting.

Raylan: You should spend time at the range.

Rachel: She has.

Diana: Almost clipped his arm a couple times, just trying to keep him from leavin'

Raylan: He took your gun?

Diana: And my extra clip.

Rachel, honey, I want you to promise me, you catch him, you won't shoot him.

Rachel: You just tried to shoot him yourself.

Diana: I was just trying to keep him still.

You're the one who wants to kill him.

Rachel: Why does everyone think I'm so hell-bent on killing him?

Diana: I know you blame him, but he...

Rachel: Of course I blame him.

Diana: He wanted to help her.

Rachel: [ Laughs ] Help her?

Diana: Clinton tried to save Shawnee's life.

Raylan: Okay.

Diana: She overdosed.

Rachel: This man tied you down in your own home, and now you're defending him.

Diana: I am not defending him!

I'm trying to explain him!

[ Cellphone rings ]

He was taking Shawnee to the emergency room when they crashed.

Raylan: Okay. Givens.

Diana: Clinton's got problems, but he loved your sister.

Raylan: Where?

Rachel: Loved her enough to pump her with poison.

Raylan: On our way.

Diana: She was addicted before she met him.

You know that.

Raylan: [ Clears throat ]

Clinton called the office looking for you.

Wants to make a deal.

Clinton: [ Groans ]

Sophie: Another coke?

Clinton: Why stop at four?

Sophie: Want me to bring this back in the kitchen, warm it up?

Clinton: Sure. I should have waited to order, anyhow.

Sophie: Oh, someone's running late, huh?

Clinton: Yeah. He and his aunt better hurry up, or he ain't getting his birthday present.

Ain't that right Furbat?

I don't know why this thing speaks Chinese.

[ Singing in Chinese ]

Clinton: [ Laughs ]

Olander: Clinton!

What are you doing?

Billy the Kidzone.

Olander: Come on. We're going.

Clinton: I don't think so.

I told you it's my boy's birthday.

Olander: Well, he ain't here.


Can I see I you for a moment?

Sophie: Just a second.

Can I get you anything? Right now or you're fired!

Sophie: Okay! Mr. Cranky Pants needs a chocolate bar.

I'll be right back.

Olander: Let's go.

Clinton: You didn't get the impression I was serious this morning?

I'd kindly give you another go-round, that's what you want.

Olander: You want to threaten me, smart guy?

Beat me down again?

I'm here to help, asshole.

I'm giving you another chance.

Clinton: Why?

Olander: I don't run the house for the fun of it, Clinton.

It's what I believe in. It's what I do.

It's why I didn't call the police.

Clinton: That's all right, 'cause I just did.

Olander: What?

Clinton: Oh, sh1t.

Flex: Who is he?

Olander: Who am I?

Who are you?

Flex: I'm an associate of none of your goddamn business.

You gotta be kiddin' me.

Yeah, that's right we got some sh1t to talk about.

And that piece you got underneath, just put it up on the table, slow...

I conversate best when I'm nice and relaxed.

Let me tell you something slick, whatever this is about, we can do it the easy way ain't that right Clinton?

Shut up Olander.

Yeah man shut up, go play Donkey Kong.

I'm an officer of the law, put the gun down.

You moved to the top of my list real fast.

We're adults, we're gonna talk this through. We dont need guns.

Do you have any idea of the ramifications of what you did?

I was gonna be a Magician, you dick!

How the hell am I supposed to do magic with this hand now?

I'm not!

That's the answer!

I'm not.

Your punk ass could'a gave me a ride.

Flex: This is my fault now?

Olander: He's right, Clinton.

We don't blame other peo...

Flex: Where's my car?

Clinton: I ain't got it, bro.

Flex: See, Clinton, that's the wrong answer.

What you're supposed to say is, "of course you don't see it out front, Flex, since I parked it in the back."

But you... you didn't say that.

Clinton: I ditched it.

Flex: Where?

'Cause I had a whole shitload of dope tucked into the panels of that car.

Which hand you jack off with?

Tim: U.S. marshals! No one move!

[ Gunshot ]

Rachel: Don't shoot!

Clinton: Get back! Get back!

Rachel: Clinton.

Clinton: [ Panting ]

Where's my son?

Rachel: You honestly thought I'd bring him here?

Clinton: I need to see my son!

[ Panting ]

I just... I just wanted to give him his gift.

[ Distorted singing in Chinese ]

Clinton: sh1t.

Get back!

Rachel: Don't shoot.

Clinton: You don't come any closer.

Rachel: Don't shoot.

Is this how you want Nick to remember his 12th birthday?

His father shooting an innocent man?

Tim: Get up!

Clinton: I loved your sister.

Rachel: So did I.

Art: Why do I have the office where the deputies shoot people?

Raylan: Nothing wrong with this one.

Art: Meaning that there are things wrong with the other ones you've done?

Raylan: Tell you the only thing wrong with this shooting.

She reacted faster than I did.

Art: You're getting old.

Raylan: Not as old as you.

Art: And you're a dick.

I'll talk to her tomorrow.

But you're gonna have to walk her through the process. - Okay. I will.

I hope this doesn't affect her ambitions.

Art: I do, too.

She's the best marshal I've got.

Raylan: You realize I'm sitting right here?

Art: I do.

How'd it go in Frankfort?

Raylan: Arnett swears he's out of the game.

Pointed me to the man who used to be his gun thug, Wynn Duffy.

I also got a call from Dewey Crowe's lawyer.

Art: Concerning?

Raylan: Says Dewey knows about some sh1t going down in Harlan that might be worth our while.

Art: And what do you think?

Raylan: Knowing Dewey? Bullshit.

Clinton: Look at you, boy.

Growing all tall and getting muscles.

You shaving yet?

Nick: I'm 12.

Clinton: [ Sighs ]

I got this for you.

Nick: Thanks.

[ Door closes ]

Clinton: You know what that is?

Nick: A Furby?

Clinton: Furbot.

It's a cheap knockoff.

It only spoke Chinese.

Nick: Chinese?

How's it work?

Clinton: It doesn't.

Somebody shot it.

Nick: Who would shoot Furby?

What did he ever do to anybody?

Clinton: [ Laughs ]

Nick: Can I keep it?

Rachel: If you want.

Nick: What's this stain here?

Is that chocolate?

Clinton: No. That's...

That's blood.

Rachel: When I was Nick's age, before my father's cancer, I thought we were the Cosbys.

My parents had good jobs.

There was a feast on the table, after church on Sundays.

Shawnee and I would ride our huffys around the neighborhood.

We had good hair and made straight A's.

Except, as my mother reminds me, that wasn't reality.

The jobs weren't all that good, and my father was never a happy man, even before he got sick.

And Shawnee was smoking pot at 9 and running away to smoke heroin at 15.

Raylan: I never bore any illusions that my family was the Cosbys.

Art: Your family wasn't funny.

Tim: At least you got to shoot your father.

Mine had the nerve to die before I got back from basic with skills and a loaded weapon.

Raylan: You didn't miss much.

I thought it was gonna be way more fun than it was.

Raylan: You heading out?

Rachel: In a minute.

Raylan: I'll wait.

Rachel: Don't.

Raylan: You having any second thoughts about the shooting?

Rachel: Not really.

Raylan: You will.

But if you ever have any serious doubts, ask me.

I'll tell you. You did what had to be done.

[ Keyboard clacking ]

[ Door opens and closes ]

Rachel: [ Sniffles ]

[ Buzzer ]

Boyd: Hey, Ezekiel.


Kyle: You didn't think you'd get to leave without seeing me, did you?

Boyd: I thought about your request and must politely decline.

Kyle: What are you talking about?

Boyd: Well, as I've made myself abundantly clear, I'm no longer in that line of work.

Kyle: You ain't even heard the scheme yet.

Boyd: Right now I know nothing about anything and I'll stick to that.

Your share alone, is $40.000.

Boyd: You're wasting your time.

Kyle: That doghole pays people in cash at the end of every shift.

Boyd: No more than $20,000 at any one time precisely for this reason.

Kyle: Oh, you notice, huh?

[ Clears throat ]

Well, what would you say if somebody had a friend who worked for the armored-car company who could provide engine trouble four days running, stalling deliveries so there would be $80,000 cash at one time?

Boyd: Then I'd say there's still no way to get down off this mountain without getting caught.

Kyle: What if there's a way not only you not get caught but get treated like a hero...

Like one of those miners down in Chile?