04x14 - Orpheus Descending

[bunniefuu]

[TV static drones]

[bright tone]

[tense jazzy music]

♪ ♪

- Back in the old Greek times,
there lived a man named Orpheus.

Loved his wife.

Took it easy on the ouzo.

Played a mean guitar.

Upstanding guy.

So,
what'd the almighty gods do?

They f*cked with him,
made his life Hades.

Why?

Because that's what
those in power do

to those of us with none.

♪ ♪

[gate buzzes]

[gate buzzes]

- The time for action
has arrived.

Tug, you waste Pancamo.

- We don't like Burr Redding
anymore than you.

- You want him dead,
we want him dead.

- I want Morales.

♪ ♪

[prisoners shouting]

[door hisses]

[door hisses]

♪ ♪

- I was in the hospital
ten days.

I'd like to think that's when
this little brouhaha began,

but I have an inkling it's
been brewing a lot longer.

At any rate,
we narrowly missed

a major w*r with
significant carnage.

The question then becomes:

what happens now?

I'm gonna give you gentlemen
a couple of options.

I could stick you both
in that cage,

where you can maul each other
until one of you's dead

and the other on death row.

I could transfer you both
to different units,

where you could
still k*ll each other,

but not on my watch.

Or we can come to
some kind of truce.

What do you say?

♪ ♪

- Peace.

- It's a beautiful thing.

- Yeah, shake hands where
everybody can see it.

♪ ♪

[bell ringing, doors hissing]

- Burr, Burr, Burr.

- You keep away from me.

- Well, wait a minute, man.

Wait, wait a second.

- Hey, I know it was you
who tipped off them hacks.

You betrayed me.

Me, who raised you
like you was my own.

If you was anybody else,
you'd be dead now.

But I'm gonna let you live.

Live with the shame
of what you done.

Only you and me is through.

♪ ♪

- Whoa, step back, Chinaman.

- Don't push your luck
with me, Guerra.

And just 'cause you
and Redding made nice-nice

doesn't mean I'm not gonna
whack your taco-eating ass.

- I said step back.

- Hey.
- [grunts]

- Jesus, man, you're not out of
the pod ten minutes,

you're already causing trouble.

- [groans]
- Come on.

In the f*cking cage!

♪ ♪

[indistinct chatter]

♪ ♪

- Aah!

[both grunting]

- Supreme Allah.

I heard you were dead.

- Well, that's funny.

I heard the same thing
about you.

Guess you can't believe rumors.

Like the one that says
you fools signed a treaty

with Burr Redding.

- What would you have done?

- Tell you what I will do.

That n*gga's going down.

- We've been trying to
ant hole that m*therf*cker

since he got here.

No success.

- Besides, if he dies now,
the hacks'll be after us.

- Yeah, not if he gets
greased by one of his own.

- Who you got in mind?

- Him.

♪ ♪

Augustus, how come
you ain't chowing

with your old pal, Redding?

- Take a f*cking walk, Ketchup.

[sighs]

- You know Omar White?

He tried to k*ll me.

Tug Daniels...

he tried, too.

But I'm still on my hind legs.

Now that you're on the outs
with old Burr,

you need a friend.

- Yeah, well,
that ain't you, n*gga.

- Look, I want to make right
what I've done to you,

putting you in this chair,

putting you in Oz,

so remember...

From now on...

I got your back covered.

♪ ♪

- Redding meet your
new cellmate, the Colonel.

- I don't want a cellmate.

- Oh, jeez, your reservation
for the single suite

must've got screwed up.

- What the hell is
McManus thinking anyway,

putting me and you
in here together?

- I don't know.

- Why'd he call you
"the Colonel"?

- Because that's what I am.

- You're a Marine.

- Affirmative.

- I was in the Army myself,

Fourth Armored Cav,
First Infantry Division.

Vietnam.

- I was in Vietnam.

Third Battalion,
Fourth Marines.

- You know, McManus might not be
as stupid as I thought he was.

Make yourself at home.

Colonel...

I just might have
a little mission for you,

a search and destroy.

♪ ♪

- Well, physically,
Omar White's fully recovered.

I was planning to send him
back to Solitary today.

- Hmm, Pete,
you had a session with him?

- Yeah,
he's a volatile young man,

but much of that
is fueled by dr*gs.

- So, if we can keep
Omar White clean,

then he's salvageable?

- Tim, what are you--

- I'm bringing him back
to Em City.

- Tim, he stabbed you.

- That's all the more reason

for me to be the one
to make the effort.

Hello, Omar.

- Look, man...

I'm sorry for shanking you.

I just don't know
what comes over me.

- I forgive you.

- You do?

- How'd you like to
come back to Em City?

- Instead of Solitary?

You don't have to
ask me twice, you know.

- Well,
I can make that happen, but...

we gotta go over
some ground rules.

- Yo, man, so how you get
out of Solitary, man?

- [chuckles]
McManus.

He forgave me.

- That m*therf*cker's
on cr*ck.

- Who you telling?
[laughs]

♪ ♪

- So, Orpheus' wife's
strolling along,

gets bitten by a snake
and dies.

Orpheus freaks out
and heads down

into the underworld to demand
that his lady be returned.

Then some Goddess says,
"Okay, on one condition.

"If you look at her
before you get back to Earth,

she'll disappear."

With like ten feet to go,

m*therf*cker turns around,

and wifey's sent
right back to hell.

Orpheus should've
known better.

You don't f*ck with the gods.

[punching bag rattling]

- That's what I told him, Char,
but you know how men are.

Yeah.

- What,
you want something there, kid?

- What kind of name is Yood?

- What do you mean,
what kind of name?

It's a last name.
Jesus.

- Let's deal.

- I meant, what kind
of nationality is Yood,

you dumbass.

- It's American.

- There are no
American names, dumbass.

- Quit calling me that.

- Because there are
no Americans.

- Oh, here we go again.

- We're all from
someplace else originally.

- My name...

is American.

- Your name is Dumbass.

- Officer Howell.

- What?

- Do your job.

- I'll call you back.

Clayton, are you
starting sh*t again?

- I'm just making
conversation.

- Well, shut your trap.

- Basil, you taking
Yood's side against mine?

- Yeah, why shouldn't I?

- 'Cause of what he is
and what we are.

- What you are is a fuckwad.

♪ ♪

[distant gate buzzes]

- Oh.

Oh.

Oh, Johnny.

God, I've missed you so much.

I didn't know
how much till now.

- Shh, don't cry.

Let's sit down.

- [laughs softly]

I want you to come home.

Sweetheart, come home.

- You know I can't.

As much as I want to,
not for at least three years.

- I won't make it
three years.

- Yes, you will.

You'll have to.

For Robbie's sake.

For mine.

You being there waiting

is the only thing
that keeps me whole, Abby.

And someday you, me, and Robbie,
we're gonna be together again.

And we're gonna laugh.

- [laughs softly]

- And we're gonna forget,
okay?

Next week,
I want you to bring Robbie.

I'm finally ready
to face my boy.

[distant gate buzzes]

♪ ♪

- Basil.

- Yeah?

- Your son...

you think he's gonna be okay

growing up without a father?

- What?

[groans]

- Now who's the fuckwad?

♪ ♪

- You crazy son of a bitch!

[grunting]

- What the hell is going on?

Open this f*cking door now!

[both grunting]

[Howell shouting]

You f*cking pieces of sh*t!
Open this f*cking door!

♪ ♪

- [laughs]

♪ ♪

- [sighs]

- I'm headed home.

- I'll walk out with you.

- Ooh, I'll get that.

- Leave it.
- Well, the stain might mess--

- Leave it alone.

The broken glass will
be there in the morning

to remind me
of how drunk I am.

- You can't drive
in this condition.

- What's the worst
that can happen?

Wrap myself around a tree?

- Look, I'll call you a cab.

- No.

- Then I'll drive you myself.

- [sighs]

John Basil and I...

had a lot in common.

Good intentions
that turned to sh*t.

He warned me about Clayton.

I did nothing...

'cause there was
nothing I could do.

- Come on.

Let me take you home.

- [sighs]

♪ ♪

[sighs]

- Well, I just love
snow before Christmas.

And I could tolerate it
in January.

But come February,
snow is redundant.

Well, good morning to you,
too.

- I-I'm sorry.

Good morning, Sister.

- What's the matter?

- I miss Keller.

We can't call each other,
and if he's written me back,

one of the Nazis
in the mail room

probably destroyed
his letters.

[sighs]

Or maybe he hasn't written.

Maybe he's already
found somebody else.

Maybe he's dead.

- I'll contact the Head of
Psychiatry at Cedar Junction

and find out
how Keller's doing.

I'll even try to arrange

a phone conversation
between you two.

- Well,
that would be great, Sister.

Because since he's been gone,
I just...

I feel like...

I don't know,
not dead, not empty.

- Well, you know, Tobias, you
have a lot to be happy about.

Your daughter's finally
beginning to respond normally,

Katherine McClain is setting up
your parole hearing.

- That's part of
all this weirdness inside me.

If I get out...

who will I be?

- So, I've walked Steve Dawkins
through your case.

I have to say,
I'm guardedly optimistic.

- You actually think
there's a chance

the parole board
might let me out?

- Yes, yes, I do.

- My God, Katherine, that--

I can't thank you enough.

- Hey, don't thank me till
you're on the other side

of the wall.

- Okay.

But if I do go free, I'm gonna
take you out to dinner.

Nicest restaurant
in the city,

Dom, everything.

- Hmm, I'd like that.

- Are you married?

- I'm...

- You know what?
You don't have to answer that.

What am I thinking,
asking you personal questions?

You're my lawyer,
for Chrissake.

- Tobias, stop.

It's okay.

I know every detail
of your personal life.

Why shouldn't you know
something about mine?

I'm divorced.

- Any kids?

- One, a son.

He's eight.

- That's the same age as Holly.

- I know.

- Oh, yeah, right.

[bell rings]

- Party's over.

Let's go.

- That's the problem
here in Oz.

You never get to finish
a conversation.

- Well, we're far
from finished, Tobias.

- Okay, here he is.

- Hello?

- Chris?

This is Sister Pete.

I'm with Tobias.

- Hey.
- Hey.

- Now, listen, Warden Glynn

and the fellow
who runs Cedar Junction

have agreed to this phone call
on the condition that I stay

in the room here

and that someone stay
with you there.

So I'm afraid that
this won't be as...

intimate as you might like.

- Thanks, Sister.

Toby, how are you?

- Better now.

You?

- Hey, me, you know.

Making new friends, surveying
the lay of the land.

- Chris,
I might be getting paroled.

- No sh*t?

- Yeah, maybe as soon as
a couple weeks.

I thought if I do,

I'm gonna make the trip
up to Massachusetts.

- Hey, Toby...don't.

You know, if you are
lucky enough to get out,

I want you to turn your back
on all this sh*t and run.

You understand? You gotta
f*cking run for your life.

- You're giving me an order?

- No, man,
I'm on my knees

and I'm begging you,
stay away from me.

I'm hanging up now.

- Chris...

[line clicks, dial tone drones]

[man shouts in distance]

[distant gate buzzing]

[door opens]

- Thank you.

Here we are.
[laughs softly]

- Let me hold her.
- All right.

- I never got the chance to
hold her when she was born.

- You got it?

- Yeah, I got her.

- Okay.

- Say hello to Grandpa, Jewel.

- You named her Jewel?

- Well, she is one,
isn't she?

And Hank loved...
"You Were Meant for Me".

- Jewel Schillinger.

Jewel.

Jewel, Jewel, Jewel.

[baby cooing]

- Yeah, Vern,
she's real cute.

- Her name's Jewel.

- Jewel?

Sure as hell hope the other kids
don't nickname her "Jew."

- Yo, you Schallinger?

- Schillinger.

- Yo, bro,
I knew your son, Hank.

- You knew my son?

- I heard you're
a f*cking pimp.

- And proud of it, boy.

My girls are the finest
on the strip.

- And my son?

- Short on some cash,

wanted to rent out
his girlfriend.

- All right, look...

- Casey, Carrie,
something like that.

Cute little blonde.

- You f*cking liar.

- Wait a minute, chief.

I don't want no trouble.

But, f*ck, I thought you knew
Hank pimped that bitch.

Even a couple of
the brothers hit it.

I'm surprised that baby
ain't come out golden brown.

[laughs]

[distant gate buzzing]

♪ ♪

- There is the possibility that
Curtis Bennett is lying.

- Well, how do I
find out the truth?

- Have you discussed this
with Carrie?

- No.
I can't see her again

until I get visiting privileges
next week.

- She has been talking to
Sarah over at my church.

Now, I'll ask Sarah if the girl
said anything about her past.

In the meantime...

be patient.

- Patient?

Reverend, this thing is
gonna gnaw on me non-stop.

I need to know if this baby
is really my grandchild,

really my blood.

- Why are you still
talking to Cloutier?

- I gotta find out if Bennett's
telling the truth about Carrie.

- And if the n*gg*r's lying?

- Oh, he's dead.

I'll stick him myself, right
between his f*cking banjo eyes.

- James Robson hired
Leroy Tidd to assassinate me,

but then when Leroy
converted to Islam...

Became Salah Udeen.

Robson had to hire Carl Jenkins
to finish the job.

♪ ♪

- Aah!

[prisoners clamoring]

- No!

He d*ed saving me.

- And Jenkins is on trial
for the m*rder.

- But not Robson.

- There's only person that can
corroborate your theory,

and that's Jenkins.

He ain't gonna squeal
on a fellow n*zi.

- I know how to turn
Jenkins around.

You let me speak to the boy.

- No.

You face to face with Jenkins

will only set off
another race w*r.

I pass.

- Glynn, you just do
what you always do...

Nothing.

[knocking]

May we speak alone?

[distant gate buzzes]

- What's on your mind?

- I've been watching you.

I believe you to be
a man of God,

true to your faith,

that you believe
in justice.

- I do.

- Then I have a favor to ask.

♪ ♪

- You here to k*ll me?

- No.

[slides chair]

[sighs]

To help.

To save your soul.

- Jenkins gave you up.

He pinned Leroy Tidd's
m*rder on you.

- What'd you do,

b*at a confession
out of him?

- You're going down,
Robson.

- It's his word against mine.

- You're gonna fry.

- It's his m*therf*cking,
cocksucking word against mine.

[Glynn chuckling]

♪ ♪

- Thanks, Vern.

♪ ♪

[latch opens]

- Carl.

This is for you.

From your friends
in the brotherhood.

♪ ♪

- Is there a problem?

- You've been a comfort
to me, Reverend.

So I'm gonna let you live.

But don't you ever
meddle in the affairs

of the brotherhood again.

- Vern...
- "And I will pour out

"mine indignation upon thee.

"I will blow against thee
in the fire of my wrath

"and deliver thee into
the hand of brutish men

and skillful to destroy."

[bell ringing]

♪ ♪

- Hey, what's up, half-d*ck?

- f*cking Mick!
[spits]

- Hey, hey!
- f*ck!

- Get in there.

- Here you go, Alvarez.

- Stupid f*ck.

- [knocks]

[knocks]

Hey, Smith.

- Yeah?

- Jenkins don't
look so hot, man.

- What do you mean?

Oh, f*ck.

- Guess he won't be
eating his chicken nuggets.

- Ah.
[sighs]

♪ ♪

[rodent squeaks]

- Oh, sh*t!

Bailey!

[billiard balls clacking]

You get on the other phone
in there and call pest control.

I'm sick of sharing my cell
with Mickey and the other rats.

- Mickey is a mouse.

- I'm serious,
God damn it!

- Your sh*t's off.

- There's nothing wrong
with my sh*t.

- No, it's off.

There's no follow-through.

- Give me the ball back.

- Watch, see?

That's follow-through.

- That's follow-through.

- Yeah,
come to think of it,

your jump sh*t was pretty
erratic before you got to Oz.

- Erratic, my ass.

See that last game
I played?

sh*t,
I busted the Bulls for 55.

- Yeah, if I remember right,
your team lost that night.

- Well,
I had no supporting cast.

- It seemed to me that
you were being too selfish.

- You and every other

"come to the game,
live your dreams through me"

m*therf*ckers.

- Hey, I played.

I mean,
I didn't have your gifts, but...

my teams won.

- White boy city league?

That ain't exactly the NBA.

- Hey, winning's winning.

You either know
how to win or you don't.

It's just in a guy.

- So, you're saying if you
and I played, you'd b*at me?

- Under the right circumstances,
ball bounces the right way,

who knows?

- No circumstances
are you b*ating me.

sh*t, I spot you nine
in a game of ten,

I'd b*at you 10-9
every time.

I could take the sorriest
m*therf*cker in this prison

and you take the best,

and I'd still clown
your broke-down,

pushing 50 junkyard ass.

- Well, let's do it.

- Do what?

- You take the worst inmate,
I'll find the best C.O.,

play a little two-on-two.

- You're serious.

- As I stand here.

- You're gonna be pissed
if I say no.

I say no.

- Yeah?
f*ck you.

- If you think about it,
it's really f*ck you.

- Hey, hey!

You say yes, I'll bring
you back to Em City.

♪ ♪

- Basketball tournament?

- More of an exhibition match.

Best of three games.

- Here we go again.

- What's that supposed to mean?

- What if something goes wrong?

- Nothing's gonna go wrong.

- And that's what you said about
the boxing and Hamid Khan d*ed.

- Basketball isn't boxing.

- I'm more concerned
with crowd control.

The gym won't accommodate
the same amount of prisoners

we had attend the fights.

- So, we limit the numbers.

Make good behavior
the price of admission.

- All right.

That's all.

[distant gate buzzes]

- I need a teammate.

- [laughs]

You're looking at
the wrong guy.

- Oh, come on, Leo.

You love basketball.

- Yeah, I love basketball,

but I'm not about to go
against Jackson Vahue.

- Leo, together I think we--

- No, Tim.

Find another sap.

This one is staying
on the sidelines.

- [sighs]

- Hey.
- Hey.

- I need you to play with me
in the game against Vahue.

- Thanks, but, you know,
I don't think so.

- Hey, you're my guy,
I need you.

- Tim, look, I...

I really think
you should call this game off.

- What?

- This is bad for us, man.

I mean, it ain't
just you out there.

All of us hacks are gonna
take a tremendous amount of sh*t

when you lose.

- Well, who knows?
We might win.

- You're not gonna win.

You're gonna get
your ass kicked!

- Look, if I can get the space
to get my sh*t off,

I can score.

And you used to be
all-state in high school.

- That was 20 years ago,

and you just got out of
the f*cking hospital.

I'm not playing.

- Oh, fine,
go f*ck yourself.

- Jesus, Tim.

You know, you can be such
an assh*le sometimes.

- What's the matter?

Timmy can't find anybody
to throw the ball to?

[distant gate buzzes]

♪ ♪

[basketball dribbling]

- Dave.

Hey.
Looks like you're a player.

You're good.

- Oh, yeah?

- All right.

You're better than good.

Did you play
in college?

- Juco.

Had two good years
at a school upstate.

- You didn't go on
to a four-year program?

- No, I did.

University of Iowa.

But I had to drop out.

- Ah.
Grades?

- Got caught scalping my
player comps to football games.

You know, any mini move
bullshit I could think of.

Upside was, I was never
charged for any of it.

- Yeah, but the school was still
forced to run you off, huh?

- Yeah.

I guess
in my heart of hearts

I knew I wouldn't have
lasted there anyway.

- Listen, uh...

I challenged Jackson Vahue
to some two-on-two.

- I heard.

- So you want to be
my running mate?

- Go head to head with Vahue?

- Yeah.

- That'd be a dream.

[distant gate buzzes]

- You wanted to see me?

- Busmalis, come in.

- Sit?
- Stand.

You play basketball?

- No.

- How about when
you were younger?

- No.

- Any sports at all?

- Nah.

I was the guy
with the towel.

- Go introduce yourself
to Jackson Vahue.

You're his new teammate.

[cheers and applause]

[booing]

- As you all know, this is
the best of a three-game series,

and due to the fact
that our court is

smaller than
regulation size,

the games will run
full court.

We'll set the clock,
20 minutes.

Each team will be
given one timeout,

and the three-point line
is in effect.

All right,
let's hoop it up.

[cheers and applause]

[buzzer blares]

[prisoners cheering]

[whistle chirps]

[prisoners booing]

[whistle blowing]

♪ ♪

[cheering]

♪ ♪

[all chanting]
Airball! Airball! Airball!

[cheering]

[buzzer blares]

[cheering]

[all chanting]
Vahue! Vahue! Vahue!

all: ♪ Na, na, na, na ♪

♪ Na, na, na, na ♪

♪ Hey, hey, hey,
good-bye ♪

[cheering]

♪ ♪

- The court has set
next Thursday

as the date of
your execution.

Have you decided
how you want to die?

- I'm not like
my buddy Giles over there.

I'm not...

I'm not going for
anything flashy

like being stoned to death.

Lethal injection will
suit me just fine, sir.

- Good.

- I've contacted
the Organ Donor Association

regarding your willingness
to donate your organs

to people in need.

They were thrilled
by your generosity.

- Well, plenty of folks
are gonna be thrilled

to see me breathe my last.

- The association was resistant
to having you meet with those

who would be receiving
your organs,

but after a little
gentle persuasion,

they have agreed.

But only as long as
the patient does.

- Well, that's fair.

- One already has.

Tomorrow morning, you meet
with one Jiffy Karas.

- Who's that?

- A blind man.

And your corneas will help
restore his sight.

[gate buzzes]

- Oh, don't get up.

I'm Jiffy Karas.

Don't ask why
my dad named me Jiffy.

- Moses Deyell.

- Ah, my hero.

- Nobody's ever
called me a hero before.

- Well, that's what you are.

My children's children
will sing your praises.

- You been blind
all your life?

- No.

Lost my sight
two years ago.

Oh, but thanks to you,

I'll be able to see the faces
of my children again.

- Well, I'm glad my death
could bring about some good.

- Mr. Deyell, would you mind
if I touched you?

- Touch me?

- Your face.

I want to remember
exactly what you look like.

- Yeah, sure.

- All right, Deyell,
we're shipping you over

to Benchley Memorial so that
the transplant doctors there

can do whatever tests
they need to do before Thursday.

- You'll also be meeting
a Deborah Becker,

a 20-year-old
social science major.

She'll be...

receiving your heart.

- You know what's
so crazy about this?

On the brink of my demise,
I feel more alive than ever,

like I got more reason to live.

- Take him out.

- So long, Said.

♪ ♪

- Funny.

He said "so long" like
he was never coming back.

♪ ♪

- You're gonna risk it all
and go for the $1 million?

- Absolutely,
I feel lucky.

- What is the capital city
of Burkina Faso?

Any idea?

- Uh...Burkina Faso City?

- No, I need either
a hint or a...

- What's the answer,
Beecher?

- I do not have
a f*cking clue.

- I dated a girl
named Burkina Faso.

- And the capital of
Upper Volta is Ouagagoudou.

- Are you sure?

- I'm positive.
Ouagagoudou.

- I'm sorry, John.

The answer
is Ouagadougou.

Ouagagoudou is wrong.
[buzzer blares]

- Oh, you've got to be--
- I know.

- We interrupt this program

to bring you
a special news bulletin.

- WYAT has just received word

that convicted m*rder*r
Moses Deyell

has d*ed in
an attempted escape

while being temporarily
transferred from

the Oswald Correctional Facility
to Benchley Memorial Hospital.

Deyell, who had decided
to donate his organs

immediately after
his execution,

was being transported in a van
when he apparently

leapt out of
the moving vehicle.

We'll have more details
on this story as it develops.

♪ ♪

- [sobbing]

- So,
Orpheus returns to Earth...

alone, sad...

and what happens?

Do the townspeople
console him?

f*ck no.

They blame him for his failure
and tear him to bits, literally.

Then they throw his organs
in the river.

All this 'cause
he let his family down,

'cause he took one last look
at someone he loved.

The gods don't
have a sentimental bone

in their bodies.

Prisoner number 0-1-C-9-7-2,

Padraic Connelly,

arrested
February 28th, 2001.

Illegal entry into
the United States.

Being held
pending deportation.

- Padraic Connelly is here?

- Came in this morning.

You knew about Connelly?

- Yeah, from the papers.

Member of the IRA,

British government
wants to extradite him

for his involvement in
the death of a British soldier.

A few days ago, the court
ruled in Connelly's favor,

they granted him asylum.

- The I.N.S.
appealed the decision.

Connelly's been sent here
to wait out the legal battle.

- Why isn't he in
a federal prison?

- He was, but kept
getting death threats.

Almost got himself m*rder*d
by a protestant sympathizer,

so our friends over
at the State Department

asked if we could
hide him in Oz.

- Put Connelly in Em City.

- Why?

- Why not?

- [laughs softly]

You just want him there so
you can study his every move.

- A genuine t*rror1st?

I admit, I'm intrigued.

- Okay.
He's yours.

God help you both.

- Padraic, I'm Tim McManus.

I'm unit manager of Em City.

[speaking Gaelic]

Uh, have a seat.

I've been following
your situation,

and so I know how
f*cked up it is.

So I took the liberty of
calling your lawyer

and I got some
pretty good news.

It doesn't seem like
you're gonna be here long.

Since you're litigating
to stay in the U.S.,

it's presumable you
don't pose any flight risk,

so your lawyer feels
that with the judge

already sympathetic
to your cause,

along with the support of
human rights groups,

bail's gonna get set.

- That is good news.

May I go now?

- Uh, yeah.

Yeah, sure.

[door opens]

♪ ♪

- Who's he?

- It's Padraic Connelly.

- That's all we need
in this place.

Another dumb f*cking
spud-eating Mick.

[laughter]

- Hey, Ryan O'Reily.
- Stand back.

- Huh?
- In the doorway.

- No, I just came--
- Stand back.

- All right.

I like that, Padraic.

You're a soldier,
you're cautious.

This is good.

- How do you know me name?

- Oh, on the TV,
past couple of days,

nothing but you and the IRA

executing that British limey
commando officer f*ck thing.

- That was on the telly, that
we ex*cuted Captain Hurley?

- Yeah.

- That's not what happened.

- Well, hey, it doesn't
matter what happened.

That's what the guys in here
think happened.

And believe me, that's
a good one for the both of us.

- Mr. O'Reily, I've no need
for what you're selling.

- You know, Padraic,

you're starting
to piss me off,

so I'm just gonna
say this once...

You best start treating Oz
like a North Ireland,

because in here,
you walk, talk, sleep,

work, eat, sh*t, and drink

with your own kind.

You f*cking understand me?

- Because your name's O'Reily,
you're one of my kind?

- We got the same color green
running through our veins, bro.

- If that were true,
it wouldn't matter to you.

- What wouldn't matter?

- There was no execution.

- You should be looking at me.

We're being watched.

- Watched?

- I walk out of here,
and on body language alone

everyone's gonna know what's
what between the two of us.

- I won't be here long enough
to need your friendship,

so have a good walk.

♪ ♪

- Connelly?

I'm Timmy Kirk.
This is Jim Burns.

- Why should I care
what your names are?

- We're inviting you
to a bible study

that the Reverend Cloutier
is holding this afternoon.

- Cloutier?

Who's Cloutier?

- Today's your
conversion day, Padraic.

Well, either that,

or we b*at the cat lick
right off you.

Your choice.

♪ ♪

[all grunting]
- Fucker.

♪ ♪

- sh*t.
Burns, Burns, off.

- What's wrong, boys?
Let's not stop now.

- All right.

Who started it?

- We're only boxing.

- Yeah, without gloves?

- He speaks the truth.
Only boxing, sir.

I was demonstrating
the techniques of

the great John L. Sullivan.

- All right, you two get
the f*ck out of here.

Listen, Padraic,

if you want me to put you
in protective custody, I will.

- Sounds very confining.

No, thank you.

Mr. Zelman, what's wrong?

- Uh, sit down, son.

- The bail hearing not happen?

- No, no, it happened,
and it was all set,

but here, take a look.

That's a letter
from the Justice Department,

specifically urging the court
to deny you bail.

- f*cking Christ.

So now what?

- Well, I'm afraid this appeal
may play out all the way

to the Supreme Court.

The fact is, you may be stuck
in Oz for a very long time.

♪ ♪

- Did he--did he b*at you?

- What?

- Dad, did he b*at you?

Is--is that why you left?

- No.

- He cheated on you?

- I was barely 17
and the world was new

and there were people to see

and places to explore and...

- So it was you
who cheated on him?

- I guess...in a way.

- I hate him, you know?

And I would never blame you
for leaving that son of a bitch,

but what I don't get is...

is--f*ck, Jesus,
didn't you even just...

- Miss you?

- Yeah.

- Ryan, from the night
we made you till the day I left,

you are the only real happiness
I have ever had.

I just didn't know that then.

I was a child with
a three-month-old.

It didn't even occur to me
that I'd never see you again.

It's just how things
had to work out.

- No, you...
you're thinking of Cyril.

- What?

- You said "three months."

Cyril would've been the baby.

- No, Ryan,
you were the baby.

- But I'm a year and a half
older than Cyril.

- Your father and I
didn't have Cyril.

- What are you talking about?

- [sighs]

Cyril's your half-brother.

♪ ♪

- Hey, Cyril,
you remember that one time

when Dad made us go spend
the summer in Indiana

on Uncle Bill's farm?

It was you, me, and those
three neighbor kids

in the fields walking beans,

and Uncle Bill had
made me the foreman

and those three kids
decided to quit

because they thought
I was yelling too much.

I think they wanted to go
swimming or something like that,

and they wanted to
take you with them.

But instead...

you decided to stay
with me in the fields

until we were finished.

I've always wondered,

did you stay with me
'cause we're brothers...

Or did you stay
'cause you thought

that if you tried to leave
I'd b*at you up?

- One, two, three, four.

Up, one, two, three,
come on.

- All that time in the cage,
I never got to exercise.

Not enough room to move.

- Hey, Jia, you know we're
trying to work out here, man.

You want to shut the f*ck up?

- I want to try that.

- No, stop.

- Cyril, you know, I could
teach you a lot of things

better than
that bullshit boxing.

- I want to learn.

- Okay.

There's this.

- Hey, m*therf*cker!

♪ ♪

No, Cyril, back!

Back!
- He hit you, he hit you!

He hit you!
He hit you!

- Cyril, back, back!

- No!

- Oh, f*ck.

- Well?

- Jia's in a coma.

We sent him over
to Benchley Memorial,

but I have no idea
when or if he'll wake up.

- Another knockout
for Cyril O'Reily.

- Jia provoked Cyril.

- So says his brother.

But Ryan O'Reily isn't exactly
trustworthy or unbiased.

- What are you saying?

- Well, we've put off
this decision long enough.

I think we should ship Cyril
to the Conley Institute.

- No, I think that would be
a tragic mistake.

- For who?

- Cyril's brother is his only
lifeline to reality.

We separate them, the guy's
gonna spiral into lunacy.

- Yeah, we keep him here,
he gets into more fights,

maybe puts somebody else
in a coma.

I think we should
transfer him out today.

- You're being cruel.

- Rather cruel than blind.

- I have an alternative.

Let's place Cyril in
protective custody for a while,

allow Ryan regular visits,
and...

see how Cyril adjusts.

- That makes sense to me.

- Tim?

- Fine.

As long as
he's out of my hair.

- [sighs]

[distant gate buzzes]

- But I don't want to go.

- Cyril...

trust me.

You have to.

Because if you don't,

they're gonna send you
far, far away from me,

and you and I ain't gonna
see each other no more.

- [sniffles]

- Hey.

Come on.
Come on, man.

It's okay.

Come on, take your bag.

Come on.

[distant gate buzzes]

Come on, let's go.

Let's go.

♪ ♪

Hey, Cyril.

Toughen up, all right?

- Hey, O'Reily.
- Yeah?

- Eliminating Jia?
I owe you.

♪ ♪

- You got a problem,
friend?

♪ ♪

- I have a confession to make.

Several months ago,
I was heading into the gym.

No one was there

but Ryan O'Reily
and Patrick Keenan.

- Aah!

- Because I was so wrapped up
in my own failings,

I just pushed
the incident aside,

but every day,
every time I'm near O'Reily,

I say to myself,
"Do something."

- Do what, exactly?

- Tell the authorities.

The att*ck on Jia Kenmin
only proves

that O'Reily will
continue hurting people.

- Okay.

We'll go to
Warden Glynn together.

Because if O'Reily
finds out that you told...

He'll k*ll you next.

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

Patrick Keenan was my friend.

Whoever told you this bullshit

must have it out for me.

- The informant has
no motive to lie.

- Look, Warden, when those
news people were here,

they asked me all about
Adebisi's videotapes

and I didn't say word one.

- What?

You're expecting
return of the favor?

- Yeah.

- f*ck you!

I'm gonna thoroughly
investigate these charges.

If I find
any corroborating evidence,

you're going to death row.

You got that?

- What happened?

- C.O. said he just collapsed.

- Ryan, are you okay?

- Yeah.

I just--I just
needed to talk to you,

so I faked falling down.

- You scared the sh*t
out of me.

- I'm sorry.

- What's wrong?

- We need privacy.

You realize this is
the first time you and I

have ever been alone?

- I need to get
back out there, Ryan,

so tell me what's so important.

- Everything's turning
to sh*t, Gloria.

There's a pretty good chance
that Cyril's gonna

end up in a loony farm,

and now there's a chance
I'm gonna be convicted

for whacking Keenan.

- What?
How?

- Someone jabbered on me
to the warden.

Hey, it wasn't you, was it?

- No.

- No, those eyes don't lie.

- Go on.

- I also hear there's
a sizable chance

that you're gonna lose
your doctor's license,

which means...

I'll never see you again.

- I know.

- So, I have
a proposition to make.

Don't answer me right away.

I want you to take the time

to really think about
what I'm asking.

- Which is?

- I want you to help

Cyril and me escape.

- Myths are supposed to
teach us something.

But what's the life lesson
in this sad tale of Orpheus?

No good deed
goes unpunished?

f*ck that.

Ain't no such thing
as a good deed.

Love conquers all?

Never has, never will.

Maybe the moral of the story

is that those in power are just
as f*cked up as those who ain't,

and the worst thing
a body can do is give up

his or her own power
to some butt-heads

on Mount Olympus,

because if they're
so f*cking powerful,

how'd they let us get away
with all this sh*t

in the first place?

Answer me that.