01x04 - The Art of w*r

[bunniefuu]

(theme music plays)

♪ ♪

(indistinct shouting)

You're on your own.

(woman singing in foreign language)

♪ ♪

(cell phone ringing)

Yeah?

It is.

Which prison? Okay, I'll be there.

250 bucks, no personal checks. Don't talk to anybody.

Male reporter on TV: We've got Patricia live out there now. Patricia?

Female reporter: Thanks, Roger. I'm standing outside Nasir Khan's Jackson Heights home.

We understand this is where the m*rder suspect lives with his parents and brother.

Male reporter: Mr. Khan!

(reporters clamoring)

(door buzzes)

Salaam alaikum.

Alaikum salaam.

Check it out. My son's sick, so my wife couldn't make it to put money in my account.

Know what I'm saying? So maybe you do me a solid and front me for a few things.

I'll settle up with you tomorrow, no doubt.

Female guard: Next.

Give me six beef jerkies, six honey buns, a bowl of moisturizer, a box of Q-tips, some Japanese noodle cups, say, six, and that jigsaw puzzle there.

Female guard: Next.

Nasir: Can I please get some, uh, instant lunch chicken noodles?

Man: You know you just got took. You know that, right?

Nasir: Yeah.

What the f*ck is wrong with you, man?

That's gonna happen every day now.

Everybody knows about that girl you r*ped and k*lled.

What you got to do now...

I didn't r*pe and k*ll anybody.

Did I ask you that?

What you got to do now is start walking like a man who's not afraid to look a man in the eye, only don't you ever look him in the eye 'cause you'll regret that.

You know what I'm saying?

So, look and don't look someone in the eye? How am I supposed to do that?

Like this.

Boom, boom... boom.

It's easy. You.

Boom.

Man: Okay.

And when you f*ck that up, and a man want to talk to you for m*therf*cking staring in their eye, you just be polite and respectful 'cause respect's all's anybody's got here.

But if they still want to f*ck with you, disrespect you, then you better stand your m*therf*cking ground, even if you got to get your ass b*at.

'Cause you start backing down in here, you fair game and you done. You hear me?

Yeah.

Man: Good.

I'll make a proper convict of you yet.

I tell the barber, "This ain't the cut I asked for, and I ain't leaving the chair until I get it."

Mm-hmm.

He says, "You want a good cut?"

Next thing I know, he comes out with this machete.

I swear to God, I just went all instinctual on it, you know?

I didn't realize I stabbed his ass until police pulled the scissors out my hand.

So you were in fear for your life?

Hell, yeah. It was like a dream.

In fact, I ain't even sure if it was me.

What's wrong?

Nothing.

♪ ♪

Priest: ...valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me.

(continues indistinctly)

Mourners: Amen.

"And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes, and there shall be no more death, no sorrow, no pain."

My condolences.

Who are you, again?

John.

I'm investigating what happened.

You're a detective?

An officer of the court.

You all were close?

I see you've met Mr. Stone.

Did he introduce himself properly?

He's the attorney for Nasir Khan, or was.

So, whatever he wants from you right now is to help your friend's m*rder*r.

Correct me if I'm wrong.

I'm just offering my condolences as a private citizen.

What are you doing here?

I'm doing what you should be doing.

I'm trying to figure out what happened.

I know what happened. I don't think so.

I don't even think you think so.

You bother any of these people again, I won't be happy about it.

Man: This is family business. Get out of here.

Yeah, mind your business.

What are you even doing here?

What do you mean, what am I doing here? I'm part of the f*cking family.

What are you doing here?

Yeah, sign the papers and send the checks.

Don't f*cking call me anymore.

Call me again, see what happens.

All right? Call me again. f*cking prick!

♪ ♪

(bell tolling)

(camera shutter clicks)

(indistinct chatter)

You want to know who's who in the zoo, who to watch out for, you got to check out those card games, see who got the temper, who got the cool.

Only don't you get in any of those games 'cause what you don't want to wind up is owing somebody money.

That song don't end, my n*gga.

And get some meat on you, man.

Start eating, working out.

But don't just go in there and start pumping, man.

First you got to look around, you know?

You see who's where, which crew got benches, 'cause ain't no crashing that party. Okay.

Okay.

Now, that man right there...

I'm not playing with this dude.

You know who that be?

Yeah, kind of.

Charm a brother, promising this, that, and the other.

Next thing you know, he got your ass by the throat.

With all the muscle he got in here, he don't got to do that any more than a spider need to sweet-talk a fly. You know what I'm saying?

Well, someone else told me I should make a deal with him.

Who?

With him.

Nah. Who told you that?

Some guy.

Who the f*ck guy?

I don't know his name.

He wrong.

He leading your ass down the garden pass with that advice.

(inmate laughs) Yeah, right.

That's bullshit.

Are you taking pictures?

Me? Nah, I was just, uh...

Let me see your phone.

No.

You're invading people's privacy. You need to leave.

No, I was just...

My son. We're trying to find a good rehab facility.

Oh, bullshit.

No, really.

Then call and make an appointment, but you need to get off the block now.

All right.

I'm going.

Hey, it's a free country.

(orchestral music plays)

Woman: Given what's happened, we think it'd be best if Hasan were to take a leave from school.

A leave? How's he gonna keep up if he leaves?

You could hire a tutor to come to your home.

Don't you understand? He fought back because he was provoked.

No doubt. But some parents have expressed concern, too, about his presence in the classroom.

And we have to think of the entire community...

Salim: No. He is on the honor roll. He does his homework.

The police took his schoolbooks, but he still gets A's on his tests.

Do you think I want to do this? Then don't.

I'm sorry.

Yeah, yeah, hang tight, okay?

All right. Hang tight. I'll be there.

I'm heading downtown.

You're welcome.

Hey, good luck with your son.

Thank you.

Lynn thought you were a reporter.

I look like a reporter?

Print, maybe. On camera, no.

She was a patient?

"She," like I'm a mind reader?

Yeah, like you're a mind reader.

Give me your phone. I'll snap her file.

Give me yours. I'll put my number in. You can sh**t it in texts.

So they can trace it back to me? Nope.

Most of the ATMs around here max out at $200, but the one up on 14th by the CVS kicks out $350.

Meet me back here in an hour.

$350?

That's right.

Don't lose that phone!

What phone?

I'm kidding.

(indistinct chatter)

Now, understand, everything in here is a w*apon.

And I mean everything: match, toothpick, thread, ink tube from your f*cking pen.

Even that. Not even boiling, neither.

It's hot enough to mix up your noodles, your Swiss Miss or whatever.

Squirt some baby oil in it, throw that on a dude, sh*t is like napalm.

Take your skin right off.

Where do they get the baby oil?

Commissary. Ain't that some sh*t?

Man: Yo, blood.

Yo, blood, you play Spades? I need a partner.

That's right. You don't want to owe anybody.

Anyway...

(continues, indistinct)

(hip-hop plays on car stereo)

Here you go. From now on, anybody else you want to know about, it's a straight $100 head.

We got a shitload of celebrities this year. All right?

Mm-hmm.

♪ ♪

John: Your Honor, when my client was erroneously picked up in last night's pro sweep, she was carrying a six-pack of formula and a box of disposable diapers.

I mean, what kind of lady of the night are we talking about here?

Are you sure the diapers were for a baby?

(laughter)

They were Pampers, Your Honor, not Grampers.

(laughter)

If the state has no objection to dismissal?

Man: No objection, Your Honor.

Judge: See you next time.

Thank you, Your Honor.

Judge: Next.

Man: The people vs. Daniel Evans Farkas...

John: Ten percent finder's fee.

Man: 2/6 of 2014.

So you got any time tonight?

I got some.

Hey. There you are.

You just saved me from having to deal with your boss.

I'll be out in a minute.

Let me buy you a coffee, huh?

Woman: Yeah, okay.

John: She's been in there three times the last two years, crashed out every time.

And that's not saying she hasn't been other places, too.

I'd definitely check into that if I was you.

This isn't admissible.

Why not? I paid good money for it.

Of course it isn't, not without a subpoena, so you should get one.

You should also check to see if she's got a sheet. A rap sheet.

Yeah, I know what a sheet is, but what does it matter? She's the victim.

What, Naz isn't, too?

If I was still his lawyer, I'd at least pretend I thought so.

It's like having a nuclear arsenal.

You don't want to use it, but if the other side knows you got it, they tend to come to the table sooner.

And you can stop staring at my feet any time you want.

I'm sorry. It's just, um, my father has the same condition, not as bad, but, uh...

You know what I really resent?

Attractive, young women telling me I remind them of their fathers.

So, you want them?

(sighs)

Yes. Cost me 500 bucks.

I prefer a money order.

Nice doing business with you. (groans)

Guard: Take those off. Change into these.

Why?

'Cause Freddy said they match your eyes.

Just do it.

What if I want to keep this one?

Guard: Then you're an idiot.

(door buzzes)

♪ ♪

(singing in Spanish)

(man speaks Spanish)

Thanks, Marcus.

She'll text you, and then you'll pick me up right here.

Driver: Yes, ma'am.

(food sizzling)

Hmm.

Man: Go to two. Go, two.

Man 2: All right. Yeah, yeah.

Male reporter: Mr. Khan! Mr. Khan!

(reporters clamoring)

When's Khan up?

Like 10th.

Bump him to first.

I want these cameras out of here.

(reporters clamoring)

Alison: Hello. I'm here to see Nasir Khan.

Who's Nasir Khan? Yo, who wants to know, man? Where's my aspirin?

Hey, what's up?

(inmate whistles) Whoo! g*dd*mn!

Go on. Go sit with the guards. I need a coffee.

Nasir, hi. Sit down.

Hello, I'm Alison.

Hey.

I'm your new attorney, and I'm here to help you.

Help me! I'm migraining like a m*therf*cker here.

And in order to help you, I need you...

They supposed to get me to get me an aspirin, but they didn't.

Okay, sir.

In order to help you, I need you to trust me like you've never trusted anyone in your life.

I need you to listen to me, everything I say, from this moment on.

You think you can do that for me? Yeah.

Good. One, when we go out there, I do all the talking.

Two, do not smile. Do not scowl. Do not slump.

Keep your head up. Look straight ahead. But don't stare at anybody.

(laughs)

What's funny?

Look, but don't look anybody in the eye.

Yeah, that's right.

Nah, man, that ain't right. You got to make eye contact, show them you're not afraid.

Was I talking to you?

I'm just saying.

Go away.

Three, circus geek is never a winning look.

At least they didn't put you in an orange jumpsuit.

(metal detector beeps)

I know. It looks like two Subway sandwiches.

Go up. Next.

(spectators murmuring)

What are you doing here?

Just getting a feel for what's coming, John.

You? You know, I live here.

Bailiff: The people vs. Nasir Khan, indictment number 4157 OF 2014.

Arraign the defendant.

The grand jury of the state of New York has indicted you for the crimes of possession of a w*apon for deadly purpose, resisting arrest, aggravated sexual as*ault in the first degree, and m*rder in the first degree. How do you plead?

We've got a full dance card today, folks.

Not guilty. Not guilty.

There you go.

Your Honor, at this point, I am filing a copy of the indictment report and the victim disclosure statement report.

Alison: Your Honor, I wasn't here for the preliminary arraignment due to the fact that I wasn't yet retained, but I'm certainly here now. And it is my understanding that when my client was remanded at that first hearing, he was advised the issue of reasonable and affordable bail would be revisited, so that's what we're doing now.

Mr. Khan vigorously maintains his innocence and is intent on fighting these charges until he's exonerated.

He wants to go to trial, and so is not a flight risk.

If we instead would like to see a young man with no criminal record turned into a criminal, then let's have him sit at Rikers as long as the slow wheels of justice take.

Your Honor, it's a felony m*rder. He's facing life.

There's no bail high enough to guarantee he won't take off.

(chuckles) Where? Where is he gonna go?

To Pakistan, where he's never been?

To some al-Qaeda training camp? I mean, what is going on here?

There's nothing going on here.

Well, he doesn't even own a passport, so where is he going to go?

Your Honor, I don't know if it was media pressure or political pressure or just good old-fashioned 9/11 profiling, but I have never seen a grand jury dance so fast in my life, leaving me no time to properly prepare.

Prepare for what? This isn't his trial.

You'll have plenty of time to prepare.

And it's not as if he didn't have professional counsel before.

Excuse me? "Professional counsel"? He had John Stone.

(laughter)

Judge: Ms. Crowe...

Alison: Your Honor?

Not in my court.

I apologize.

Your client seems to have a little trouble looking at me.

Look at the judge.

That's better.

Mr. Khan, I see no reason to change your bail status.

You remain on remand, and we're done here. Next.

Bailiff: The people vs. Luke Waltman, indictment number 6244 of year 2014.

Johnny, that was uncalled for.

This is not a level playing field here.

The victim is an upper-class Caucasian, the accused a striving member of one of the most reviled ethnicities in America.

May I say something?

My client was consciously over-indicted by a D.A.'s office eager to score fast and score big, and we look forward to our day in court. Thank you.

(reporters clamoring)

Next time, don't interrupt me when I'm trying to save your son's life.

(reporters clamoring)

♪ ♪

Guard: All right, keep it moving. Let's go.

Gate!

(door buzzes)

(gasps) f*ck!

Ah!

(door buzzes)

I want to talk to Freddy.

He want to talk to you?

Ask him.

Freddy: Just tell your sister to load up a Green Dot card, text me the account, and we good.

Any chance of an advanced taste?

Let him in.

Why the green one?

Because orange means violent felon.

It kind of predisposes the judge in a way that's not to your advantage.

I didn't ask for it.

But you wore it, didn't you?

Don't worry about it, man. We cool. You don't owe me nothing.

Anything else?

Why me?

That's good enough.

Why you?

Let me show you something.

Out of all of this, what am I most proud of?

That.

Yeah, that's right.

See, most convicts...

I mean, they got any kind of paper at all, it's some "study in your cell at night" GED bullshit.

See, me, I like school, so I did it right.

I mean, life wound up taking me where it took me, but still, right?

Have a seat.

You know what the two most popular books in the prison library is?

"The Art of w*r," for obvious reasons.

And "The Other Side of Midnight," for obvious reasons.

You want to learn what it takes to survive in here...

Read this.

The man can write about dogs and teach you everything you need to know.

Thanks.

But I've read it.

Man: Hey!

That's my money, all of it.

You see that big dude right there, Victor?

I asked him once, "Well, where's the Gaza Strip?"

You want to know what he said? "Vegas."

(both laugh)

And then comes this bright little college m*therf*cker.

Like a care package for my brain.

That's why you.

But you still got to ask, or I can't help you.

Help me what?

Survive.

See, survival in here is all about your alliances, my desert brother.

Those husky dogs knew that.

(rap music playing in passing car)

(John, woman moaning, grunting)

I like it on.

I like it off.

(both moaning)

No, I want it... I... I like it on.

Okay.

I like it on.

Okay. Oh, yeah.

(both moaning)

Oh, that's it. That's it, Johnny.

That's it. That's it. That's it. That's it.

Mmm.

Oh! Ahh!

(sighing)

Oh... Oh, yeah.

Oh... Yeah.

I need a towel.

Okay.

(woman grunts)

Oh, God.

Thank you for today, baby.

John: Thank you for tonight.

(sighs)

Man: So don't you want to know what I'm in for?

I was told never to ask that.

By who?

The "be Freddy's bitch" dude again.

f*ck that n*gga. (laughs)

Man: I had a niece around the same age as your bro.

Got m*rder*d by her fiancé.

Now, how much time he did?

Two years. Why?

'Cause the verdict got overturned on appeal.

Bad instructions to the jury, and the county prosecutor office didn't want to retry.

A month later, he's out.

I see this n*gg*r in a club.

He drinking, dancing, living.

I'm like, "Nah." I go home to get my whistle.

I come back to slaughter his ass.

Boom. Miss. Caught a busboy instead.

So now my niece is dead, busboy's dead, and I'm in here, and that n*gga's out there like a nut-swinging applejack. Ain't that something?

I'm sorry.

Pretty girl, too.

You want to see a picture?

Okay.

Man: Four months pregnant, too.

Man: They're fully in the right to do that.

(indistinct conversations)

If we see any more of these headlines with his face...

(continues indistinctly)

The guy's a Sikh, and he gets b*at half to death.

Offer them low m*rder, and we're done with it.

Doctor: Oh, my God, what the hell is this?

You look like you've been going after yourself with a sharpened pencil or something.

Chopstick.

Well, I had a guy use a knitting needle once.

You could see right through it to the ankle bone with that one.

You wouldn't believe what people do to themselves. I would.

I'm ready to jump out a window.

Yeah, I've seen that, too.

Uh, so what's in the bag? Is that your medicine or your lunch?

What I've been using from another doctor.

Gimme.

Just level with me.

Is there any f*cking hope?

Not with any of this.

And not with you gouging yourself like that, either.

First, you're gonna go to a pharmacy and pick this up.

This is real medicine, not Mickey Mouse medicine, a serious corticosteroid.

Then you're gonna go to a medical-supply place, get a U.V. lamp... they're a little pricey... and some U.V. glasses.

Then you're gonna go to a grocery store, get some Clorox, and bathe in it.

Here's how much to use. Clorox bleach?

Or you can keep hacking away with your chopsticks until you're walking around on your kneecaps.

It's up to you.

(panting)

Yo, Freddy.

Hey, Freddy, man. We ain't got no beef.

Beef? Who said anything about a beef?

Just looking for a big man to spar with.

(grunts)

Come on, Fred.

Freddy: "Come on," what?

Man, I heard you took silver in the Gloves, man.

Show me what you got, baby!

That's what I'm talking about. I like that.

Oh, sh*t.

For real, for real, huh? That's what I'm talking about.

Chill, man.

What's up with that cell phone business, bro?

I ain't got no cell phone business.

I don't know what you're talking about.

sh*t, dawg. I must have heard wrong, then.

(grunting)

Come on, Freddy. I told you, I don't know what you're talking about.

(grunting) Oh, man.

Not one cell phone?

Oh!

(heart b*ating)

(grunting)

We'll knock five years off the max, 25 to life.

He'll be before a parole board in 20.

Before them for what? m*rder is m*rder.

They'll never let him out, and you know it.

You want to talk seriously? Take life off the table.

Oh, I don't think I can do that.

Well, I won't be able to sell him on an indeterminate sentence, so I guess that's it.

m*rder two, no sex as*ault, capped at 25.

Man one, flat 10.

You're kidding. No, I'm not kidding.

High man, 20, serves 15.

Okay. We'll take our chances with the jury.

That's it? You expect me to negotiate against myself?

Yes. Man one, flat 15.

I can try that with him.

I think you'll succeed.

(Muzak playing)

20 milligrams. Wow.

John: What?

Nothing.

What? It's just...

I'm not saying it's gonna happen, but possible side effects from taking steroids this strong...

Like?

Like, you know, hair loss, expl*sive acne, uncontrollable crying jags, shrinking balls.

On the other hand, there's an excellent chance you'll hit 75 homers this year.

(sighs)

Alison: What I say in court is for the judge.

What I say to the press is for the public.

But with you, I have to be honest, and it is not good.

Running away with a Kn*fe from the scene of a brutal stabbing m*rder documented with photos that'll make a jury's heart stop...

But I didn't do it. We are way past, "I didn't do it," Naz.

Here's what time it is. If you are convicted, which you likely will be, you will spend the rest of your life in a cage, waking up every morning wishing you were dead, unless...

Unless?

Unless I can somehow convince the D.A.'s office, and it is a long sh*t, to accept a plea of manslaughter with a max sentence of, say, 15 years.

But I'm not gonna fight for you on this unless you can say, "Yes, I accept that.

It's better than the alternative."

And, Nasir, believe me, it is.

Can I think about it?

Of course.

But when we go before the judge, it has to be "yes" or nothing at all.

You understand?

Where's your associate? My what?

The one who met with my parents.

Oh, she's just... she's in court. Why?

They liked her.

My parents.

(indistinct chatter)

What'd she say?

She said he's going to say he did it.

What?

She told him to say it.

Dennis: So, here's my question, When's the D.A. gonna grow a pair and actually take a k*ller to trial?

You think it was up to me?

I have a boss who has a boss who has a boss.

How does it work with you?

You're so predictable. And you're not?

(rock music plays)

Give me the Saints in the under.

Why don't you just flush it down the toilet, John?

The Saints couldn't b*at Cooley High.

You wanna bet?

Funny, man.

Hey, heard about your kid.

What, my son?

Woman on TV: He was there!

No, man, your kid, your k*ller.

He had her blood on his clothes. He had the m*rder w*apon on him.

John: Ah. That.

He tried to escape police custody.

Listen, I respect the D.A...

What'd you hear?

The deal. Man, 15 for that?

Gift from the gods. I assume you took it.

Jack and soda.

Oh, hey, John.

Heard about your kid. What a gift from the gods.

Man: Small money's gonna tell you, "Take the plea."

I got to say, man, the dude who k*lled my niece, he took his chances with the trial. Next thing, he's walking free.

Now, understood, that's like a freak of justice or whatever, but if he took what they offered, he'd be upstate right now, and I'd be bringing fresh flowers to my niece's grave.

What was her name?

Nah.

I can't even bring myself to say it no more, you know?

You understand what's gonna happen in there? Yes.

And you're ready to do it? Yes.

I didn't like the sound of that "yes." Try again.

Yes.

Guard?

Don't move.

Put it down.

Okay, I need you to do something for me.

Officer, I'm here to see the defendant.

Hi. I'm Chandra.

I'm working with Ms. Crowe.

You okay?

Not really.

You know what's going on here?

I do. And I know it's tough, but it's a good deal.

You think I'm doing the right thing to accept it?

Yes.

Well, why would they accept it if it's good for me?

Trials cost a lot of money.

If they can reasonably avoid it, they will.

It happens every day.

Thank you.

For?

For just talking to me like I'm a person.

What would you do?

She told me to come in here and talk some sense into you, but if I were you, I would ask myself one question: Did I k*ll her?

If the answer is "yes," take the deal.

If it's "no"... don't.

Hey, unless you f*ck it up in there, 15 years is 12 years.

12 years, you still have a chance of walking out a human being.

Any more than that, no.

You'll be 35 when you get out, and you'll still have a life.

Take the deal.

It says that I k*lled her.

No, it doesn't.

It says you don't trust 12 idiots on a jury to get it right, and neither do I.

You want to play roulette? Go to Atlantic City where the odds are better.

My parents will never know I didn't do it for sure.

They don't know that now.

Naz, I'd k*ll to be 35 again.

Take the deal.

Bailiff: All rise.

All right.

I understand that in an exchange for a plea of guilty, the people are offering to downgrade the charge of m*rder one to manslaughter one with a sentence of 15 years.

Is that your understanding of the agreement, Ms. Crowe?

It is, Your Honor. Mr. Khan, is that your understanding?

Yes.

All right.

You're gonna be asked a series of questions by the district attorney.

If at any time you don't understand what's being asked of you or you have any need for clarification, feel free to interrupt and ask any question, okay?

Okay.

Bailiff: Defendant, please rise.

Raise your right hand.

Do you swear or affirm to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?

I do.

Have you spoken with your lawyer before making this application?

Yes.

Have you taken any dr*gs or alcohol or anything else that would affect your ability to understand these proceedings today?

No.

Do you understand that pleading guilty is the same as going to trial and being convicted of manslaughter in the first degree?

Yes. You understand that by pleading guilty today, you are giving up your right to cross-examination or to call witnesses to testify on your behalf in front of a jury?

Yes. Do you understand that by pleading guilty, you give up your right to appeal to a higher court? Yes.

Are you pleading guilty because you are, in fact, guilty?

Yes.

In your own words, then, tell us what happened on the night of October 24th.

I left my parents' house in my father's taxi to go to a party in Manhattan.

I got lost.

And Andrea got into the back of the cab, thinking I was a real cab driver.

We drove uptown. We talked.

She gave me something, some... some pill.

We went back to her place, and we drank.

She gave me something else, some powder.

We, uh... we went up to her bedroom.

We had sex.

And then?

And then...

(soft panting)

Then I fell asleep and woke up in the kitchen.

I went back up to the bedroom to get my clothes and say goodbye.

Then I went to her... and I saw that she was dead.

I... I panicked. I ran.

And?

And, uh...

(floorboards creaking)

That's all I remember.

(whispering) Are you kidding me?

Are you kidding me?

Ask him again.

You drank, took dr*gs, had sex, and... k*lled her.

No. No, I didn't.

Then what the hell are you pleading guilty to?

Okay. What else we got here today?

Alison: You are an idiot. You have f*cked yourself.

Right now, out there, that prosecutor, that sweet lady, is sharpening her Kn*fe, and the judge is gonna help her m*rder you for making them go to trial.

And, frankly, I feel like k*lling you myself.

So quit.

What?

What did you say?

Quit.

I should.

In fact, I do. I quit.

Gate.

Alison: My firm will continue to work for your son's exoneration, but two things will change.

Nasir's primary attorney will now be Ms. Kapoor, and given that we're now facing what will be a complex trial, I can no longer offer you our services pro bono.

Of course, you're free to decline and seek counsel elsewhere.

(rock music playing)

(line ringing)

Man on phone: Westside Animal.

Yeah.

I'm, uh, calling about a cat.

It's an ugly sort of orange thing.

Man: Are you the guy with the feet?

Right. The guy with the feet.

That's me.

Yeah. I'll hold.

(dogs barking)

Man: It's still here.

It's still there?

Man: You want him?

No, I don't want it.

I'm just, you know, checking.

Man: Okay.

Okay? Thanks.

Man: You stuck to your g*ns.

That's good.

That's rare.

Maybe you'll get lucky, and the judge will screw up with you, too.

Well, I didn't take the plea 'cause I didn't do it.

Yeah.

That's what he said, too, my niece's k*ller.

You didn't do it. He didn't do it.

I guess don't nobody do sh*t, huh?

This joint is so chock-a-block with "I didn't do it" m*therf*ckers, they falling from the rafters.

Charlene.

What?

My niece.

Her name was Charlene.

And this... this is for her.

(gasping) f*ck! f*ck!

(groaning)

(inhales sharply)

Who was it?

I don't know. It was dark.

I asked you a question.

I answered it.

(chuckles)

(inaudible)

(keys jingling)

Say the words for me, Nasir.

I need your help.

♪ ♪