02x06 - Strange Bedfellows

[bunniefuu]

[bright tone]

[tense jazzy music]

♪ ♪

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

Can anybody tell me
what the f*ck that means?

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

smoothing out the sheets,
fluffing up the pillows,

just to ruin it all
by lying down.

The phrase should be,

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

The point being,

you got to be responsible
for your actions.

[grunts]

Responsible.

[indistinct chatter]

[bell ringing]

[tense percussive tones]

♪ ♪

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

- You're
the boss, Vern.

- But why are you
talking to that n*zi?

- That n*gg*r?

- Like it or not,

that man is
a child of God.

Now I have made
a commitment to Allah

to defend the rights
of all prisoners inside of Oz,

not just the ones of color.

Not just the ones
who believe what we believe,

or who pray as we pray.

- That n*gg*r's gonna
get me out of here.

- Said is representing
Vern Schillinger?

- Mm-hmm.

- Didn't Nostradamus
predict this?

Doesn't this mean
we're two steps closer

to the end of
the f*cking world here?

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

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

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

- So what happens next?

- You and Tim will have
to give another deposition.

- Great.

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

and he's also gonna
bring up Scott Ross.

So be ready.

- That doesn't worry you

that we're gonna be
questioned about Ross?

- No, why should it?

- Diane, the last time
I was asked

if I knew anything
about the sh**ting, I said no.

- Yeah?

- Well, this time
I can't.

- Why not?

- Because now
I know the truth.

- So?

- I'll be under oath.
- So?

- You want me
to perjure myself?

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

- I just--

- Look, can we just
cut the sh*t?

You are gonna say you have
a conscience, right?

A moral code.

Seepage in
your cerebral cortex.

And I am
gonna say, lie.

If you love me,
if you ever loved me,

then lie.

Schillinger approached me
outside the library.

He told me he would
pay me to k*ll Beecher.

- And you agreed?

- Yes, in order to stop him.

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

Vern:
So last night?

- You wanted
Beecher dead, right?

- Yeah,
I wanted him dead.

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

- Yeah.

- This was your second
conversation about Beecher.

- Yes.

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

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

- No.

- You never asked him

how much he'd pay you
to k*ll Tobias Beecher?

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

- You say he offered
to pay you money.

Did he offer you
anything else?

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

he would tell people
I k*lled Scott Ross.

- Did that factor into your
decision to trick him?

- No, because
it's not true.

No matter what Schillinger says,
or thinks he saw,

I k*lled no one.

♪ ♪

- So officer Wittlesey's,
in general,

a trustworthy person.

- Yes.

- She's never
lied to you.

- I didn't say that.

- So she has
lied to you.

- Mm-hmm.

- Did she lie to you regarding
Vern Schillinger?

- You mean him wanting
to k*ll Beecher?

- Yes.

- No.

- So she told you
the absolute truth

about her reasons
for accepting his offer.

- I assume so.

- You assume so?

- Yes.

- So was one of
those reasons

the fact that Schillinger knew
Wittlesey m*rder*d Ross?

- You mean
did she say to me

that was one of
her reasons?

- Yes.

- No.

- McManus, did Wittlesey
m*rder Ross?

- m*rder?

- Yes.

To the best
of your knowledge,

did Diane Wittlesey
sh**t Scott Ross

with the intention
of ending his life?

♪ ♪

- No.

♪ ♪

[door slams]

- Well?

[muffled hip-hop music]

- You don't
have a case.

- Will you
turn that down?

- They have evidence,
witnesses,

and the tape recording.

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

- You will be convicted of
conspiracy to commit m*rder,

and you will be sentenced
to ten more years.

- f*ck, might
as well be life.

I'll never see my kids.

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

What about Wittlesey
k*lling Ross?

- Your word against theirs.

And without proof,
your word is meaningless.

- They got you, baby.

- Will you mind your own
g*dd*mn business!

- Schillinger,

I'm withdrawing
from your case.

- No, you are not.

You pull out, that only
compounds my guilt.

- I will not fight
your lost battle.

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

To set me up.

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

knowing that'd
make things worse.

- Things couldn't
be worse.

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

You are guilty, truly guilty.

- You used me.

- And you used me.

Life is balance.

- f*cking n*gg*r.

- As-salaam alaikum.

- [laughs]

You just lost
the balance, baby.

- Billy Shakespeare,
in his last will and testament,

left his wife, Anne Hathaway
his, quote,

"second best bed."

Now Shakespeare had abandoned
Anne and the kids years before

and had only come
back home to Stratford

when his bones
had started to creak.

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

or was it Shakespeare's
ultimate "f*ck you"?

[tea kettle whistling]

- Hello.

Did you
need something?

- No.

- Oh, I do.

I need a friend.

- That ain't
gonna be me.

- Of course.

I'm a convicted m*rder*r,
you're not.

- Let me
ask you something.

Do you sleep
at night?

- Yes.

- How is that possible?

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

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

I tell them
it was an accident.

But it wasn't
an accident.

It was what
had to happen.

It was what had to be.

And so I sleep.

I sleep good.

[tense percussive tones]

♪ ♪

- Hey, Diane.

Here, Shirley.

- Thanks, sweetie.

[bell ringing]

♪ ♪

- Peter Schibetta
was definitely poisoned.

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

- Did the test results
come back from the lab?

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

was found in
his digestive system.

- What did he eat?

- He says that immediately
before he got sick

he was eating
a chocolate bar

that had been given to him
by Adebisi.

It's pretty clear
that Adebisi did it.

- Why's it so clear?

Anybody could have put
the poison on the chocolate bar

before Adebisi
took it out of the box.

- Everybody knows

that Adebisi has
a problem with Schibetta.

- A problem
is circumstantial.

A lot of people
work in the kitchen.

A lot of people
hate Schibetta.

- All right, all right.

Lenny,
keep investigating.

You get any solid evidence
that Adebisi was involved,

we'll deal with him.

- And if not?

- Then this one goes in
the unsolved mysteries file.

[monitors beeping]

- Hey.

- What do you want?

- To tell you that Glynn ain't
doing d*ck about what happened.

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

- How?

- Wait and see.

- Peter...

The family
is embarrassed.

- They got no reason
to be embarrassed.

- They're unhappy
with the way

that you're
running things in here.

- They blame me
for getting poisoned?

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

Now whoever did that,
probably Adebisi,

took the time because they knew
that Nino was watching.

Nino was smart.

- And so because I got
one quick sh*t of poison

instead of ground glass,

I'm not as good
as pop, right?

- This is what they say,
the family.

- Christ.

You tell them that
I'm gonna handle Adebisi.

I'm gonna get
my honor back.

By the end of today,

either that f*cking moulie or me
is gonna be in a body bag.

♪ ♪

- Look at that,
Poet on TV.

- In a f*cking tux!

- I tell ya some serious
sh*t's going down, yo.

- Hey, Schibetta,

today's lunch special
is arsenic.

- Yo, you got
agita, bro?

Diane: Knock it off, guys!

♪ ♪

[gate buzzes]

- A new day dawns.

- What's on
the breakfast menu?

- Ham and eggs.

- Eggs again?

- Yeah, again.
- sh*t.

Yo, come into
the freezer.

- [babbles mockingly]

f*cking
chocolate sauce.

[singing softly]

'Morning, Chucky.

You don't
work here anymore, baby.

- Wrong.

I got a job to do.

- It's payday, pal.

- [laughs]

♪ ♪

- Stay down.

♪ ♪

Hey, hey, baby.

[singing]

- [screams]

- [singing]

- Pancamo and Schibetta
were found unconscious,

Schibetta's rectum bleeding.

Could've been r*ped.

- What do you mean,
could have?

- He says he doesn't
know what happened;

he won't
talk about it.

- He knows.

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

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

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

♪ ♪

- Peter.

Peter.

I just talked to the family.

You're out.

Somebody else is gonna be
taking over

operations here in Oz.

- Lenny...

Don't tell
my father, okay?

- Huh?

- Don't tell my father.

♪ ♪

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

Pancamo,
out for the count.

Schibetta's eyes
wide open.

His mind is sh*t.

- He got r*ped?

- [snickers]
- Off who?

- What's up, partner?

- Hey...
"Partners", huh?

- Yeah.
- You and me?

[chuckles]

We ain't
f*cking partners.

Hey...

I said if you
help me k*ll the dago.

You didn't do sh*t.

Come on.
- [laughs]

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

You afraid of him, esse?

- Yo, f*ck you.

I ain't afraid of nobody,
all right?

♪ ♪

- Break it up,
break it up.

- Move it.
- g*dd*mn it!

- I'm gonna k*ll
that m*therf*cker.

- No, you're not.

- Miguel...

- When we k*ll, we k*ll
for a reason, all right?

- I got a reason.

- Man, you got sh*t.

It's your f*cking fault.

I ain't going to w*r over
your f*cking bullshit, man.

- Oh, yeah?

So when do
we go to w*r?

Hmm?

What's it take,
huh, Miguel?

- No, no!

Hill: Prisoner number
98H498,

Raoul Hernandez,
AKA "El Cid."

Convicted July 10, '98,

m*rder in
the second degree.

Sentence, thirty-six years.

Up for parole in twenty.

- Raoul Hernandez,
Miguel Alvarez.

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

- You Latino?
- Si.

- They lied
to you, man.

You too f*cking white
to be Latino.

Get the f*ck
out of my face.

♪ ♪

[indistinct chatter]

- Rumor mill says the President
of the United States

gets people to donate cash

in return for spending a night
in the Lincoln bedroom.

But Lincoln never slept
in the Lincoln bedroom.

Lincoln never even
slept in the bed

that's in the
Lincoln bedroom.

Now how dumb
do you got to be

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

and it's false advertising?

sh*t.

You want to pay
to snooze in my room?

Jeffrey Dahmer
lived there.

Al Capone, too.

f*ck, for a couple
of extra bucks,

I'll get the ghost of Jesse
f*cking James to float on by.

[imitates g*nsh*t]

- Uh-oh.

- What "uh-oh"?

- Water pipe.

I almost
busted it open.

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

- Busmalis,

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

- Second thoughts?

Well, have
third thoughts.

- If we get caught--

- We're not gonna
get caught.

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

We're gonna get caught.

- Shh, she'll hear you.

-She?
She who?

- The hole.

I treat every hole I dig
like a lady,

a very special lady.

I never married,
you know.

I could never
find a real woman

who could satisfy me
the way she does.

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

who are broken-hearted
losing you.

♪ ♪

Hill: Prisoner number
98W504,

Jiggy Walker.

Convicted July 12th, '98,
m*rder in the second degree.

Sentence,
twenty-eight years.

Up for parole in twenty.

- What are you
in for?

- What's it matter?

The charge
is trumped.

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

- Too much
about what?

- Shh.

[gate buzzes]

- Rebadow will
show you the ropes.

Behave yourself,
we'll get along fine.

- Too much
about what?

- Governor Devlin.

- What about Devlin?

- He's a major league
cr*ck addict.

- No, no.

- Yeah, oh, yeah.

- cr*ck addict?

How would you know
that he's a cr*ck addict?

- How you think, bitch?
I sold him the sh*t.

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

- [whispering]

- Dealer takes two...

- Well, looky, looky,
four beautiful aces.

- f*ck.
- [laughs]

- Wait a minute,
I got a f*cking ace.

- You cocksucker.

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

- Mr. Walker,

as-salaam alaikum.

May we talk
privately, please?

I understand you have
some information

regarding the governor,
James Devlin.

Information of
a damaging nature.

- Damaging?

Depends on how
you view cr*ck.

- Well, my guess is
the voters would frown upon

their chief executive
doing street dr*gs.

- I want this information
to go public.

- I don't know, Said.

What's in it
for me?

- What's in it
for you?

- Yeah.

- If we create
a tidal wave

and we sweep Governor Devlin
right out of office,

you might find yourself
released.

- How?

- I have connections
within the media.

This time
tomorrow morning,

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

- Me...

A celebrity
like Oprah.

- Oh, yes,
my brother.

But what I need
from you is this:

dates, times, places
of your business transactions

with Governor Devlin.

- I can't be exact.

It's not like we kept
records and such.

- Are there any other witnesses
to corroborate your story?

- Scat'll do that.

- Who's Scat?

- My cousin.

Works post office,
priority mail division.

- Okay.

I'll make some calls.

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

- Bring 'em on, baby.

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

- Arif, can I see you,
please?

- My n*gga.
[chuckles]

What's up, n*gga?

[indistinct chatter]

- You seen this?

- I just spoke
to Ekdahl.

The monitoring office
says that

Walker did five
phone interviews yesterday

to press
across the state.

- I saw it on the local news
this morning.

- It heard it on
the radio driving in.

- Devlin's finished.

- Assuming he actually
bought the cr*ck, yeah.

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

- He's innocent until
proven otherwise, right?

- ABC, NBC, CNN,

they all want
on-camera interviews.

- Let them,
let them.

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

until Devlin resigns.

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

- On the contrary.

I just got off
the phone with him.

Devlin wants Walker
to talk to the press.

He wants
full disclosure.

- Well,
I'll be f*cked.

Devlin: No truth
to these allegations.

I do not know
Jiggy Walker.

I have never bought dr*gs
from him or anyone,

not now or ever.

It's another
in a long series

of false,
partisan accusations

that have been perpetuated
by a scandal-hungry press.

I intend to go
to Oswald today

and confront Mr. Walker
face to face.

I invite the media
to accompany me.

- Monitoring office says
you placed the calls

to the newspapers
for Walker.

- Is that a crime,
McManus?

- I hate Devlin
as much as you do.

I only wish
you would have told me.

- I have here the records of
the two physical examinations

performed on me
since I came into office.

Included in the report
is the drug testing

that I instituted as mandatory
for all state employees.

There is no indication

of any illegal chemical
substances in my system.

I say to you now...

Bring me Jiggy Walker.

Bring me my accuser!

- Mr. Walker,
do you have any other names

of people in this administration
taking dr*gs?

- Mr. Walker, how long have
you been selling dr*gs?

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

- Mr. Walker,

you claim that you sold me
two grams of cr*ck cocaine

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

in the state capital.

- That's right.

- I have here plane tickets
and a guest list,

proving that on May 3rd,

I was attending a reception
for our nation's governors

in the Blue Room
at the White House.

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

at the same time?

- Okay, so that night I sold
the sh*t to one of your aids.

- Which one?

- Sam Berlinghoff.

- Sam Berlinghoff
was with me in D.C.

- Cat said he was
Sam Berlinghoff.

How was I to know
he was lying?

- How indeed.

You claim your cousin,
James Dyson Walker,

will back up your story.

I have here a sworn statement
from James Dyson Walker

denying any participation
in any drug transactions

between you and me.

- Okay, so you
paid him off.

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

and now
I'm asking you.

Admit you lied,
show's over.

Mr. Walker,
for once in your life,

do the decent thing
and admit it.

- Okay...

I lied.

♪ ♪

So, m*therf*cker? So what?
You been lying all your life.

sh*t,
still Jiggy.

sh*t.

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

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

and one thing I've learned is

that when you come through them
gates,

you got to have props.

You got to be somebody
to get respect

so the brothers and the others
don't f*ck with ya.

- Okay, but
why go public?

- That was his idea,

making all sorts of noise
about me getting released.

I figured it was
worth a sh*t.

- That's stupid.

You must have known
that you'd be exposed.

- I knew there was
a good chance.

- Then you tell me why,
brother!

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

I was seventeen.

My family came
to visit me regular,

and Latonya, my fiancé,
and my friends.

They all came
the first year.

Then Latonya
married Beau,

so she stopped coming,
stopped showing up.

Then Ronnie
didn't come no more.

My cousin Scat, my sister,
my dad, he d*ed.

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

Then they put her
in an old folks home.

Six years in,
I had no visiting days.

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

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

Maybe they'd
come for longer.

Maybe they wouldn't
forget about me.

♪ ♪

Fight the power, baby.

[laughs]

He's a little hostile.

- I'm transferring you
to Gen Pop.

- I hear that.

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

Thank you,
Mr. President.

[sighs]

All in all,

it was a good day.

- Governor...

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

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

- No, no.

I simply took advantage
of the situation.

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

that when I realized
I could actually

prove my innocence
in this one...

Well, it tinges
all the other charges

with a wonderful
veneer of doubt.

Mm.

Do me a favor,

give these
to Jiggy Walker.

I owe him.

♪ ♪

- Giles was on the corner
of Sycamore and Broome

on the day
my husband was k*lled.

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

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

- Aim.

- Aim?

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

- So what's next?

- I'm gonna talk
to Augustus Hill.

Before Em City opened,

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

Before he got sent
into solitary,

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

- I guess so.

- What do you mean
you guess so?

- I never really listened
to what he was saying.

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

I finally just
tuned him o-u-t.

- What about
two years ago

when he k*lled
his roommate, Ron Beebe?

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

♪ ♪

Sister Pete:
Ron Beebe was k*lled

because he was trying
to steal Giles' stuff.

Well, the files
show the opposite.

- I don't know
about no files,

but I remember
Williams Giles

was very conscientious
about his teeth.

The guy brushed like
a thousand times a day.

Seriously, he guarded his
toothpaste like it was gold.

- His toothpaste?
- Yup.

- Augustus...

What brand
did he use?

- Brand.

Same as mine, Aim.

- Ron Beebe
k*lled my husband.

Can you tell me
about it?

- Gingivitis, bad.

Beebe, worse.

Eye.
Eyes, Beebe.

Beebe, eyes.

I...

- He saw you see him

push Leonard off the truck.

Do you know why Ron Beebe
m*rder*d my husband?

- Sorry.

- He never said to you

why he pushed my husband
off that truck?

- Sorry.

Sorry.

Sorry.

- Shh, it's okay.

- I'm sorry.

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

- So Giles m*rder*d the man
who m*rder*d your husband,

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

- Yes.

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

Maybe he
made it all up?

- I believe him, Leo.

- Even if he did
what he said he did,

he's still
prone to v*olence.

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

- Well, still,

I feel like I should do
something special for him.

- From Sister Peter Marie.

- Hey, Dr. Prestopnik,
how ya doing?

- My back
is k*lling me.

My house needs
a new sewage system.

My wife wants to spend our
30th wedding anniversary

in the Virgin Islands.

Talk about
living in the past.

Other than that,
I'm hunki-dory.

You?

- Eh.
You know, I saw on TV

that pot helps b*at
the after effects of chemo.

- Yeah.

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

- You want me
to give you marijuana.

- Yeah.

For, what do you call it?
Medicinal purposes.

- Nice try, kid.

Looks like you got
the cancer on the run,

your hair's
coming back.

This'll probably be
your final treatment.

- Thank f*cking Christ.

Hey, how's
Dr. Nathan doing?

I haven't seen her
around lately

and I heard about her husband
getting m*rder*d and all.

♪ ♪

- The funeral's Thursday.

She says she's coming back
to work tomorrow.

- That's an
amazing woman.

- Yeah.

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

- I will, O'Reily,
I will.

- Hey, baby.

- Dr. Prestopnik,
my wife, Shannon.

- Pleasure
and a half.

- You haven't been
to see me lately.

- Yeah, I know.

I've been busy.

- Doing what?

- Taking care
of your brother.

He's a little out of control
these days.

- Yeah, I called my cousin,
Matthew.

He's gonna
take Cyril in.

You and I, Shannon,
we're done.

- What?

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

- Why?

- I found
someone else.

- [laughs] Oh, God.

- Shannon...

- Gloria, what
are you doing here?

- I've gotta work, Tim.

I got nothing else
right now.

- You should
take a vacation.

- Where?

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

You know...

we didn't have
the best marriage,

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

too much pride,

but...
we really loved each other.

We really did.

He was a good man.

Why'd he
have to die?

[brakes squeal]

Hill: prisoner number
98P284,

Cyril O'Reily,

convicted July 1st '98,
m*rder in the first degree.

Sentence, life.

Up for parole
in sixty years.

[indistinct chatter]

♪ ♪

- No!
- No!

Preston is dead
because of me.

♪ ♪

[bell ringing]

- Hey, Gloria,
you're back.

Hi.
- Don't!

- What?

- I became a doctor
to help people.

Now I know that
that sounds like a cliché,

it sounds naive,
but it's true.

I could have a fancy
practice anywhere,

but instead
I chose to work at Oz.

I saved your life,
O'Reily.

And in return
you destroyed mine.

- Your brother, Cyril,
confessed.

- sh*t.

- Cops want
to interrogate you,

although he's refusing to
implicate you in the m*rder.

He's gonna take
the rap himself.

- McManus...

You gotta see
that I love her, man.

- Love? What the f*ck
do you know about love?

- What do you know, huh?

What do
any of us?

- I know I's not a reason
to commit m*rder.

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

♪ ♪

- Life is no
bed of roses.

Then again,

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

You'd never get any rest.

Every time
you toss and turn,

you hit another thorn.

[tires screeching]

- Ahh!

- Hey, hey,
hey, hey.

You all right?

Same nightmare,
huh?

- Yeah.
- Wow.

- I'm soaked.

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

Jesus.

- Thanks.

- We need to do something
about that tattoo.

- Oh, yeah?

What are we
gonna do?

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

You all right?

- Yeah.

♪ ♪

- Good morning,
Tobias.

- Good morning.

- What's the matter?

- Nothing.

- Tobias, I see you
almost every single day.

I know the difference
between nothing

and nothing.

- Two men shouldn't
love each other.

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

I mean, if a guy has a lot
of bad sh*t happen to him

and another guy
comforts him,

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

I mean, that's
not love, right?

- Well, some men in here are
h*m* and some need sex--

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

I had sex
with Schillinger.

It was brutal,
unloving.

This is different.

- Tobias, are you in love
with another man?

- I think so, yeah.

[gate buzzes]

- 98B242,

65R814,

97B412,

98K514.

- All right, everybody,
into your cells.

[bell ringing]

- Got a surprise
for you.

- A surprise?

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

They said because yours was
b*rned on instead of inked,

it can't be removed.

- I could've told you that.

- You hate
the swastika, right?

- Yeah.

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

- [scoffs]

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

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

- That's crazy.
- Why crazy?

- As much as I want to get rid
of the f*cking thing,

I remember how painful
it was going on.

Both of those, it's a lot
of b*rned flesh.

- Which leads

to the second part
of my surprise.

- What's that?
- Moonshine.

101% pure alcohol.

It's like
the old west,

cowboy gets sh*t,
you gotta remove the b*llet.

You take a couple of snorts
of this sh*t,

you're not gonna
feel anything.

- There's only
one problem with that.

I've been sober
for over a year now.

- So what?

- I'm an alcoholic.

Every bad thing that's
ever happened to me

has been as
a result of booze.

I'm just now feeling like
I'm b*ating my heroin addiction.

To go back home
to alcohol?

- Okay.

- Don't be mad.

- I'm not mad.

- Yeah, you are.

- No, it was
a stupid idea.

I just didn't
think things through.

That's my problem.

I don't think anything
all the f*cking way through.

- I hate when you're
self-deprecating.

It's so cute.

Hey, where'd you get
that stuff anyway?

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

♪ ♪

man: [screaming]

[thud]

[faucet running]

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

- So he didn't drink
the moonshine?

- Nope.
- f*ck.

- He was close.

- Close?
f*ck close.

The whole idea here,
the whole beauty of this plan

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

all the sh*t that Beecher's
got inside of him

until he can't
live with himself,

until Beecher
destroys himself.

The alcohol's
the key.

- No, Vern,
I'm the key.

Beecher loves me.

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

I'll get him
to drink.

- I win.

- f*ck you,
you f*cking redneck!

- Eat me, jizzball!

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

f*cking assh*le.

- What the f*ck
was that about?

- Who the f*ck knows.

I hate what
that cocksucker did to you.

- Come on.

- Cocksucker!

I don't understand,

your parents decide

whether or not you get
to see your own kids?

- No.

They think,
all things considered,

I shouldn't spend time
with them yet.

Seeing me like this might do
more harm than good.

- Seeing you like this,
what the f*ck does that mean?

- You know.

- Beecher,
you're their father.

For Chrissakes, everything
that they've been through,

finding your wife,
their mother, dead.

They need you,
not their grandparents.

You.

- You think?

- Despite everything
that you've gone through,

one thing
hasn't changed.

They are your blood.

- Hey.
- [gasps]

Daddy,
Daddy, Daddy!

I miss you, Daddy.

- I love you, Daddy.

- [laughs]

- You're doing
laundry?

- Yeah.

- You hate
doing laundry.

- Yeah.
- Chris.

- I'm celebrating
your reunion.

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

- I don't care!

- All right.

- You look good
without a beard.

- What happened?

- Ah...

- What? What?

- Remember I told you I got
married three times?

Four times,
if you count...

Bonnie,
who I married twice.

- Uh-huh.

Why did you get married
so often?

- Call me old-fashioned,

but before I f*ck them,
I marry them.

- [laughs]

- The problem is...

The sex.

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

and once
the sex sucks,

I realize I got nothing
in common with them.

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

- Bonnie just
got married again.

I shouldn't care, right?

I divorced her twice,
right?

I got no claim on her.

Bitch.

- Come here.

Get the f*ck over here.

I love you.

- I love you, Toby.

♪ ♪

f*ck you!
f*ck you!

[screams]

♪ ♪

m*therf*ckers!

m*therf*ckers!

Ah!

[screaming]

♪ ♪

[muffled alarm buzzing]

♪ ♪

- [panting]

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

♪ How she gnawed it,
how she clawed it ♪

♪ When she found
herself alone ♪

♪ ♪

[coughing]

- At the end of the day,

a bed is
the best friend you got.

Sure, the mattress
may be lumpy,

the springs may have sprung,

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

But the bed...

It beckons you.

It comforts, it cradles
until you sleep.

And if you're
lucky enough

to have the right person
lying next to you, sh*t,

there ain't a reason you got
to get out

of that bed come morning.

Good night.

Sleep tight.

Don't let
the bed bugs bite.

[tense jazzy music]

♪ ♪

[bright tone]