03x02 - Bed Bugs and Beyond

[bunniefuu]

I got them when I was 15
and then, like, 19.

And then other times,
but I never got it on my arms,

and I haven't even been putting
them near nobody's cha cha.

Except for, like, once,

and it was a while ago
and by accident.

You don't get crabs
on your arms.

So what?
I got imitation crabs?

sh*t!

It's f*cking bedbugs.

Like scabies?

I thought it was crabs.

Me too.

I miss Ian.

Aww, that's so sweet.

You got some shampoo
or something?

They don't live on you. Just in
your sheets and clothes and sh*t.

So now we got to wash everything.

What, you gave them to me?

Someone gave it to me first!

- f*ck.
- What's going on?

Flaca's got scabies.

It's bedbugs.
It's different.

Cooties are cooties.

I probably got it
from your dirty little sister.

They probably been living
in your hairy Chia Pet poon

since before you got here.

First of all,
I keep my lawn mowed.

Second, weren't no problems till
pocket Daya snuck in last week

to follow
in the family footsteps.

- Eat it.
- Hey.

- They got scabies.
- Bedbugs. And it's Flaca.

Now what?

Ay, Dios.
We're all gonna get them.

You don't have a magic cure
or something?

Hey, hey, hey.

I just walked up.

No. So what?

You hear the one
about the pregnant bedbug?

She gave birth in the spring.

But these are just pads.
We don't got bed springs.

Oh, Jesus. Okay, everybody.
Start stripping the beds!

f*ck.

Red, you're back!

And you're not talking to me.

Now What did I do?

My post-slock resolution

was to stop giving liars
second chances.

When did I lie to you?

"Business is booming.
There's a line out the door."

You were much more convincing
than my husband,

but you were just as stupid.

You could have said
you didn't make your way there.

Instead, you said
you ate my vatrushkis.

I'm sorry.

I...

I thought that I was doing
the right thing.

By lying?

We read
different children's books.

You know, many cultures
value a person's dignity over the truth.

In Korea,
they actually call it kibun.

I heard that on The World
with Marco Werman.

In Russia, we call it bullshit.

Look, there was nothing
you could do about it,

and I thought that
I was saving you some pain.

You thought if you didn't
bring me bad news,

I won't k*ll the messenger.

I said what I said

because I am a nice person
and it felt right.

Nice is for cowards
and Democrats.

You're a selfish little person.

You wanted me to like you.

Now I like you less.

Next.

Powell.
P-o-w-e-double "I."

Ah, here you are. ID?

Oh, Bennett. Good.
You're George's friend.

- Uh, George?
- My son.

He used to work here.
George Mendez.

His father,
my first husband, is Cuban.

I never could resist an accent.

Guess that runs in the family.

I'm sorry.
That was a coping mechanism.

Uh... Thank you.

George, urn...

George says he loves her.
What do you think?

I... I don't know.
M-maybe.

Uh, I'm sorry.
Who are you here to see?

I know I need to apologize,

but "I'm sorry"
feels a little inadequate.

That baby's got my daughter
out to here,

and it's too late
to Dyson it out of her.

So I hope you're here for more
than a clean conscience.

I'm a concerned grandmother,
just like you are,

although you look
nothing like a grandmother.

Hispanic women
have amazing skin.

I just hope
the baby gets my complexion.

What's it getting from you?

I know that...

...nothing can ever undo
what my son did,

but this child
is part of my family.

He's gonna live with my family.

Your... husband?

My domestic partner.

Who's not actually related
to the baby by blood.

No blood. But he's got
the sweat and tears part down.

He's taking real good care
of my babies,

and he'll do the same for Daya.

I want to adopt the child.

I'm up nights, haunted.

I can't bear the thought
of the baby winding up like--

Go ahead. Say it.
Like her mother?

Like George.

So... you want to raise the baby

so it don't turn out
like the baby you raised?

I have two other boys.

One is in dental school,

and the other
is an art historian.

So you raised a sadist,
a dentist, and a h*m*.

Two sadists and a h*m*.

Okay, look.

You have every right
to hate me, and George,

but I can do right
by this child.

I can offer love and attention

and a certain lifestyle.

Money don't mean nothing
to a child.

- No. But I--
- You're not listening.

To a child.

But my daughter
can't be un-r*ped.

And she's gonna suffer bad
emotionals her whole life.

- We all are.
- Well...

I know money
could never make that right,

but, of course, I would want to
help the mother of my grandchild

in any way I could.

Perhaps on a monthly basis.

And the grandmother
of your grandchild?

- Of course.
- That's the team spirit.

Hey. Lady guards only.

Your mom is in visitation
right now with Mendez's mother.

- The f*ck?
- Did you know she was coming?

- What are they talking about?
- I don't know.

Lady p*rn wrote me a
letter. She wanted to meet.

But I said no.

I mean, I didn't say nothing,
which means I said no.

Aleida must've written her.

Relax.

It's my baby. Ours.

Aleida's just probably
trying to shake her down.

Everything's gonna be fine.

I don't usually get to see
this much of you all at once.

You like it?

You're into big bellies?

Listen up, ladies.

Until every uniform in this
prison is washed and re-washed,

you will be wearing
Office Depot's new fall line.

You got to be kidding.

I ain't wearing
that f*cking paper sh*t.

That's my color.
I'm wearing it.

There is one
maternity-sized paper suit.

I suggest you grab it before one
of your plus-sized dorm mates

claims it for her food baby.

I asked you more than once
to stay away from her,

and yet, with the whole dorm
half naked, here you are.

I'm writing you up, Bennett.

Mendez's mother
is meeting with Aleida Diaz.

I don't care.
And neither should you.

That's my kid
we're talking about here.

This is not
Three Men and a Baby.

You and Mendez are not
Guttenberg and Selleck.

You are two morons
and a ward of the state.

Let go.
Let go of the dream.

Mr. Caputo.

One box per dorm.
That's all there was.

I can't walk around in my butt-bag
panties and my granny bra.

There are more paper uniforms
on their way.

And they'll get here when?

S... sometime soon. Hopefully.

Uh, be thankful
the weather is nice.

C.O. Bennett,
make yourself useful.

- Sir.
- Go down to the storage room.

Don't come back
until you find some uniforms

or something uniform-like
and disposable.

Sir, yes, sir.

Where's the S-1?

Corporal John Bennett
reporting as ordered, sergeant.

Care to let me in on the joke,

corporal
whoever-the-f*ck-you-are?

No disrespect, sergeant.
Just ready to get in the sh*t.

Well, look at that, goggles.

Corporal America is here
to save us from the rag heads.

Hooah!

L.A., fall in!

r*fle.

You know, it's always the guy

who thinks
he's John Wayne McCain

who shits his pants
and needs rescuing.

But out here, we prefer to let
the camel cowboys do the dying.

It's their g*dd*mn country.

Look at you.
All nicely starched.

I have a travel iron.

I smell a fobbit.
You know what a fobbit is?

- I'm not--
- Not what I asked!

Army hobbit. Too chicken to leave
his forward operating base.

You think
this sh*t bag's a fobbit?

Maybe. Don't know him.

But he's got the whitest teeth
I've ever seen.

Sergeant! I am not a coward,

and I am sure as sh*t
not sorry I'm squared away!

I'm here to soldier,
save lives, and get some!

Jesus, what a cluster-knuckle.

Could this be our fault?

The new couch.

I did an inspection at the curb.

We're okay, except for the
mystery stain, but we Febrezed.

If anybody asks anything,
it came from JC Penney.

Bell, Hartford jail's
got six boxes of paper suits

they're willing to part with.

Cost me 300 pairs of tube socks
I actually don't have,

but that's a future "me"
problem.

Have Doggett drive
you and Maxwell after lunch.

Roger that.

Looks like it's spreading.

The only thing spreading
is rumors.

It was an isolated event
that's been...

...isolated.

I forgot something
in the office.

Unh-unh.

Walk. That's right.

Just walk away, Renee.

Where'd you...

You smell like Arthur Avenue.

Whatever, okay?
GloNo is making me bedbug-proof.

- GloNo?
- Gloria and Norma.

Oh, hell no.

Hey, look, whatever you want
to call them, they for real.

All right?
Especially Norma.

She got that whole
magic mute thing going on.

Look, and this makes sense, okay?

Bedbugs drink our blood.

They bugs, not Dracula.

And now that you been necklace
shopping in Burritoville,

you getting them for sure.

Man, why are they
still making our food

when they're the infested ones?

Oh, sh*t.

No, man.

Protein. Crunch.

It's all good.

Hey, you're scratching.

It ain't real, man.
It's a ghost itch.

Mm.

Power of persuasion.

Power of you ain't taken
a shower in three days.

That might be
why you're scratching.

What you care?

Poor personal hygiene
can be a sign of depression.

Depre-- man, I ain't depressed!

The line's been long
in the shower

since it started getting hot.

But I been washing my pits,

tits, and naughty bits
in the sink.

Well, thank you for that.

Look, you don't want to be
forced to take a shower

like Asia girl.

Don't get so ripe you go rotten.
All I'm saying.

Okay. Maybe you got a point.

But it ain't bugs.

Man, come on, man.

Unh-unh!

Forrest Gump. Seat's taken.

Yeah. Black kids only.

What? I got just as much of
a right to this seat as you do.

I mean,
this place is full today.

- You discriminating me.
- Yes.

Rosa Parks
could walk through that door,

but she got bedbugs,

bitch, her ass going to the back
of the bus, same as you.

Who's gonna stop me, though?

Now that your
big-haired mammy's in hell

taking Satan's
three-pronged penis up her butt.

Aah!

- No!
- Warren!

Chill out.

Do I need to write you a sh*t?

No,no,no,no,no.
She's good.

She just had
a little too much spicy.

That's all.
Give me the potato.

Now. Give me the potato.

Got you. You good.

Yes.

Sit down.
We good, Suzanne.

We good.

- We good, Officer Bell.
- We good.

We...

I will potato her
at a future time.

I know.

Get your lunch to go, Doggett.
We got van duty.

Bitch, bye.

You not hungry?

I'm not standing in that
parade of tits and ass.

You secretly love this.

Some things
are better left mysteries.

Do you want to borrow
my, uh, paper bottoms?

Because I could rip them off
and just give them to you.

Come on.

Give mama a smile.

Do you remember
what Kubra used to say?

Unh-unh.

"A smile is like
tight underwear."

"lt lifts your cheeks."

He's gonna k*ll me, you know.

Alex.

I really thought
they would put him away.

And I'd be out.

I'm f*cking suffocating.

Alex, you will survive.

Because it's what you do.

Yeah. Like a cockroach.

Maybe that's your spirit animal.

I know that you're trying
to make me feel better,

but really think about
what you just said to me.

You know,
they really get a bad rap.

They were the first animals
to ever mate in space.

They live in tight colonies
because they just love being touched.

And they can carry cigarettes.
They're bad b*tches.

I... can't be here right now.

I mean, seriously,
what the f*ck is going on?

Man, it's like
six early releases this month.

Yeah. Bullshit sentences
for minor drug crimes

just aren't enforced
like they used to be.

Speaking of minor drug crimes...

Our smack scheme
is no minor offense.

Really? You couldn't
come up with a code word

or something like that?

Fine. Getting caught
with that many jujubes

will get our candy asses
kicked down to max for a decade.

No, we have come too close
for you to puss out on me now.

I will smother you
in your sleep.

Red concreted
our shipping route.

All the coke kitties
are getting out.

Maybe, like, the universe

is just trying
to send us a message.

Bitch, please.

All those girls had
no time left on their sentences.

That just ain't you or me, huh?

We need the right oompa loompa

to smuggle our sweets out of here.

You know, now you're
just abusing the metaphor.

This is the last of it.

And if you ask me,

this oatmeal should be
for breakfast, not voodoo.

It's not abracadabra.
It's nature's anti-itch cream.

It's medicine.

So, why you making it
and not the infirmary?

Good f*cking question.

f*ck.

Inmate, there have been
complaints about moldy rice.

I need you to show me
where you store it.

f*ck is this?
An intervention?

What were you doing
talking to Mendez's mother?

We're mutually concerned
grandparents.

She's not the grandmother.

- She might be.
- What is that supposed to mean?

That's for me and my daughter
to talk about.

- He's part of this.
- Yeah, I am.

Yeah?

Okay. Fine.

She wants to adopt the baby.

- What?!
- Shh!

Your job right now is to listen.

To what? The only thing worse
than Mendez raising that baby

is his mother doing it.

That's what I said.

But it turns out
she got two other kids.

One's a tooth doctor,
the other's an artist,

and they turned out real good.

I'm not giving up my baby
to nobody.

That's also what I said.

But then she made
some real good points.

- Nothing--
- Shh!

Daya, you got 37 months left
on your sentence.

He can't do nothing
or he'll go to jail, too.

Abuela's too old, and Cesar's
guaranteed to f*ck up.

You remember
your year in foster care?

You want that for the baby?

- That's not gonna happen.
- Shh! Let her finish.

You're not actually
considering this, are you?

Aren't you?

I'm not saying yes.
It just kind of makes sense.

Except for the part where
the woman who raised

a drug-dealing r*pist named
p*rn adopts our child.

Have you ever even held a baby?

Changed a diaper?

You want to make that kid

live in a sh*t hole
with five other people?

He could have his own bedroom.

Did you ever spend the night
in a room by yourself?

That baby could have a real life

with money
and clean towels and sh*t.

Look, Daya and I are happy.

Okay, you don't need towels
for that.

Right?

God damn it, Farzad.

Look, it's only funny

because the dudes are dancing,
not her.

- Understand?
- No.

Jesus.

Can somebody please get me
a better Muslim over here?

Let's try this again in five,
ladies.

Don't sweat it, man.

This is just how Americans
like to waste time.

Bad work?

You were bad at being stupid.

That is a good thing.

You did good.
You did good.

What's wrong with them?

Them, uh...
you all, uh, boy-kiss-boy.

Yeah, I see that.

Ugh, it's like
ironic divine retribution.

We're stuck
in our own spin cycle.

This paper suit keeps sticking
to my sweaty parts.

Once when my mother forgot
to buy me a Halloween costume,

she taped a bunch
of old newspapers to me

and said I should tell people
I was a newsstand.

You know what we need?

Bean leaves.

I got bedbugs at a sit-in for
a Portland homeless shelter.

The conditions were appalling,

so we used bean leaves to trap
the bedbugs and get rid of them.

I didn't know
beans grew on leaves.

Oh, yeah, take it off.

Ooh. Excuse me, Mr. Luschek.

We would like to make a formal
petition for some bean leaves.

And maybe some extra washers.

People or machines, either one.

But really bean leaves.

If you say "bean leaves"
one more time,

I'm gonna punch you
in the f*ck hole.

One of the f*ck holes.

How about some fans instead?

At least two of them work.

All yours.

Aye, aye, captain.

Yeah, I wouldn't want to see you
strain your ass,

you know, sitting on that table.

I could probably think
of a witty comeback

if it wasn't so hot in here.

Or I cared.

Hey, I hope you're not down here

for any of
that girl f*gg*t sh*t.

Oh, when you talk dirty to me
like that...

I know you've been sniffing
around Angie's tree.

And you should know

the only soggy box
that interests me is mine,

and all that goes in it
are dicks and tampons.

And sometimes other things,
but only guys can put those in.

Noted. Although, when you call
it your soggy box, you know,

it makes it really hard
to resist.

Hey, how come all the guards
get to wear real clothes?

We're exempt.

Do the bedbugs know that?

You wash our uniforms every day.

sh*t!

Whoa! Whoa! Luschek!

It's like undressing
in front of my dog.

I need you
to wash these right now.

Oh, wait!
Wait, wait, wait!

Sleepy-time tea.

Little spray here
Little spray there

Ooh, little spray
in my underwear

Makes the buggies back off

Ooh, makes the buggies
piss off

Make the buggies back
way the f*ck-- tssh! tssh!

Way the f*ck off

Mmmmmm.

This is like
the Titanic of bad ideas.

Like we're steering out the way
of bedbugs

and crashing into an iceberg
of chemical burns and sh*t.

Please, my grammy used to douche
with disinfectant.

The trick is to imagine
the bugs being bugged by you.

You can't give away your power.

Like you almost did at lunch?

Look, you can't be getting
all crazy

every time
that somebody talks about Vee.

But did you hear that slattern?

Look, that business about
a tri-penis. Unacceptable.

That warrants a severe response.

Man, you f*ck up an ofay
with a spork, you angry enough.

Vee would've defended me
if vice were versa.

Okay, even if that was true,
which it definitely is not,

you one sh*t away from being a puddle
of black drool in psych.

You need to check yourself.

Back off.

Did you mean...

- ...to spray that on your skin?
- Yes.

Because in general,
when a bottle reads

"caution" and "warning,"

it might not be the best idea.

Man, see,
I knew this was a bad idea

you telling me to clean
with your grandma's douche.

Someone's grandma douches
with disinfectant?

Man, this was the pill
before there was a pill.

It's cheaper than condoms

and make your cooch cr*ck
smell like lemon fresh.

For real. Look that sh*t up.

I-it couldn't have worked
too well

because, you know,
well, you're here.

Uh, when did our bathroom
become gentrified?

Since the Spanish became
patient zero for bedbugs.

This isn't social hour, ladies.

Unless you're working, out.
Everybody out.

I gave you an order, inmate.

W--

I need permission
to use the toilet?

May I relieve myself, teacher?

- Excuse me?
- Alex.

- That's a sh*t.
- What?

There are girls spraying
themselves with disinfectant

because this prison
is swarming with bugs,

but pissing is a violation?

Great. I'm glad you have
your priorities straight.

- Where are the f*cking fumigators?
- Lower your voice, inmate.

Or are they too worried
to k*ll the bedbugs 'cause

they'll k*ll
the cockroaches, too?

Are you calling me a cockroach?

It's okay. They get a bad rap.

Alex.

You're going to seg, inmate.

Alex. No, no, no, no, no.
Wait, wait, wait, wait.

You know that this isn't her.

She's just back here
after having been out.

You want a sh*t, too, Chapman?

Will it keep her out of shu?

Please. Come on.

Hey, haven't you ever had
a bad day?

Like a...
really, really bad day?

Disobeying a staff member,
insolence to a staff member.

That's two sh*ts, Vause.

Alex.

How am I back here, Piper?

How could I let myself
get back here?

Alex, it's not your fault.

And they call me crazy.

Oh, my God.

We will probably never be rich,

and we'll most likely live
in a place that's not that big,

but we'll work hard
and we'll love each other,

and we'll find
so much happiness

that we won't even know
what to do with it.

We'll share it with our kid.

Our kids.

Will you marry me?

The ring is temporary.

Uh, my leg.

I love you so much.

Still got to be careful.

For now.

Hey, you know, I think you need to be
in an enclosed space for that to work.

I'm blasting the heater
to k*ll any bedbugs inside.

Hey, Luschek, uh,
let me ask you a question.

You like candy, right?

Body by Butterfinger.

I'm speaking allegorically here.

You want to talk about Al Gore?

Oh, Jesus.

Okay.

Hey.

Listen, all right? Focus.

Let's say I happen to have

a Costco-sized
box of candy, right?

And I f*cking love candy,

but I can't eat it anymore

'cause, you know, it ruined
my life, gave me cavities,

and I'm in candy eaters
anonymous now, eh?

So I got to get rid of it, huh?

Like out of the prison
rid of it.

I got a sh*t ton of heroin
I need you to sell.

Are you out of your mind...

- inmate?
- Hey.

You're asking me
to sell narcotics.

I'm a federal
corrections officer.

All right, let's go. We're gonna
go to Caputo's office.

No!

You're gonna tell him
exactly what you told me.

Every word,
even that weird Al Gore thing.

Okay, look, Luschek, you must've
misunderstood me, all right?

I'm f*cking with you.

Of course I'll sell it.

Oh, my God. Jesus.

Man, come on.
You know I got a bad heart.

You can't do that sh*t
to me, man.

I want, uh, 80 percent.

Of the dr*gs or the money?

You're not to supposed to be
back here.

I know, but I got this.

You slept with it?
Said the Lord's prayer?

- Mm-hmm.
- Okay, good. Evil eye is off of you.

Don't you got to break it
or some sh*t?

I'll break it in the morning
when I cook it.

What? You can't feed
somebody my problems.

What-- what if I eat it back?

You as likely to eat
somebody's hormone imbalance,

cheating husband, or diarrhea.

Listen, if it makes you
nervous, skip breakfast.

That ain't right, yo.

I'm-- I'm trying here.

Well, I had to use all
the oatmeal on people's itches,

which means that more people
are eating eggs,

which means
that your egg gets cooked.

I'm literally garbage.

I think I'm having a nervous breakdown.

Oh, chm up, kibun.
You'll think of the right He.

What was that about?

I told her that her restaurant
was a booming success.

And?

And it has been
shuttered for months.

- That's f*cked up.
- I was trying to be nice.

She was so happy when I lied.

Delusion can be very comforting.

Right?

The best part of my time here

was when I thought somebody else
had named me as a co-conspirator.

It was like...

...the universe had just
brought us back together.

And then you realized that
I was the assh*le who named you.

No.

I mean, yes, you did,
and that sucked.

But...

...for a while,
ignorance was bliss.

Getting all of our sh*t
out on the table,

being totally, brutally honest

about all the f*cked-up things
we've done,

and then deciding
to still like each other,

that is an amazing thing.

Resiliency, the human spirit,
and all that.

So much better than ignorance.

Seriously.

What?

What is it, Piper?

I, um...

...had a friend call...

Davy Crocket and tell him that
you had violated your parole.

You called...

...my probation officer?

You kept saying that
you were in danger.

- Bullshit.
- And I was just trying to protect you.

That is bullshit,
and you know it.

Just more bullshit.

I'm so, so, so, so sorry.

But now, see, all of our sh*t
is just right out on the table,

and we can decide
to like each other.

You're a f*cking psycho!

And you can stop blaming
yourself for being in here.

And start blaming you.

Because that's what
I'm supposed to do now, right,

so you can keep control
over whatever this is.

Control, Alex?

You were having
a nervous breakdown!

Which wasn't hot for you,
was it?

Depressives
are bummer f*ck buddies.

Can't have that.

God, you're such
a manipulative c**t!

You're gonna have to burn them.

We're not burning any books.
This is not Nuremburg.

And I'm not that kind of exterminator,
but facts is facts.

Am I allowed
to interact with them?

They are people. Yeah.

Can I see a couple of those?

Hey, that's Rats of Nimh.
It's like my top five.

I cried like a baby when Jenner
d*ed. You can't burn that.

Man, this broke-ass prison
will never replace them.

- You can't do this.
- Calm down.

We're not replacing any books
'cause we're not losing any.

- Isn't that right, Dan?
- Bedbug.

That ain't no bedbug.

That's a muffin crumb.

How you gonna tell the expert
what that is?

Ain't like I'm not an expert
in muffins.

The thing about these bastards
is once they're in,

the only way to get them out

is to wipe out
their nooks and crannies.

What, you can't just
spray some stuff in here,

steam the books or something?

I'm telling you
it ain't a bedbug.

What you think, Mr. Caputo?

You're 100 percent sure?

Seventy-five percent.

How sure are you
that that's a muffin crumb?

Like 90 percent.

Oh? That wins out.

You want to be sure?

Have at it.

Jefferson.

You did not just...

I'm down to, like, 50/50.

sh*t.

Who are you?

Uh, sorry.
I'm looking, uh, for Cesar.

Cesar!

- What?
- Some white boy here.

Baby daddy.

Que paso?
Daya and Aleida okay?

Yeah. Yeah, no, great.
I, um...

You said to stop by sometime,
so, uh, here I am.

Also, I... I brought
this gift for Lucy.

And... I proposed to Daya, actually.

No f*cking way!
Get in here!

Homeboy stepping up
to the plate!

Diablos, este se va a casar!

Margarita, listen to this!

How'd you do it?
Did you get her a ring?

Uh, I made it, actually,
out of, uh, gum wrappers.

Gum was how we met, so...

Babe. Babe. What's up? Dinner.

You need to get her a real ring.

Yeah, no. Definitely. I just, um,
she can't have it in prison, though,

'cause she'll get,
you know, shanked for it.

My boss will ask me
where she got it, or...

But... I think
the gum ring is fine for now.

Hey, who's... who's that?

I'm a daddy again.

And I know you ain't gonna say
sh*t to Aleida, right?

Or do I have to bribe you
with, like, movies and candies

like I do with them?

How many times I--
look. Look what you did.

You broke this sh*t!

Hi. You're Lucy, right?

I'm Lucy.

Oh. Sorry.

Happy Birthday.

Dayanara asked me
to bring you this.

Is it a Barbie?

I guess you'll have to
open it and find out.

No, it's not a Barbie,
but I-it's cool.

Dinner, b*tches.

That was fast.

Yeah. Leftovers from Storky's.

Hey, I should, uh,
probably get going.

I just wanted
to drop off the thing

and tell you the good news.

Nice try, homeboy.
You're staying for dinner.

Oh, Mitch. Good to see you.

Wish it were under
better circumstances.

Well, it could be worse.

Fig could still be here.

I really liked her.

The early releases
should've saved you enough money

to handle
the infestation situation

without any additional funding.

I made several
cost-cutting measures myself,

and that includes
the new mattresses,

which I noticed weren't factored
into your budget.

Because they weren't approved.

They were approved.
They have to be.

We're burning them
right now, Mitch.

Burning, yes. Fine.

But we're not going to replace
hundreds of mattresses

only to get rid of them again
in two months.

Why would we get rid of
the mattresses in two months?

No one told you.

Holy sh*t.

Holy sh*t.

That's the reason
for the early releases?

I'm sorry. I don't know
how you weren't informed.

The warden must've forgot to ring me
in between rounds of golf.

None of this
reflects badly on you.

Your name is actually being
mentioned quite favorably.

There's a good chance
you'll get a transfer.

And everybody else?

How long do we have?

The prisoners should all
be relocated by the 20th.

They're officially closing
the prison the 30th.

Eat your french fries, puto.

I'm not hungry for vegetables.

Hey.

Oh. Listen to you.

Don't you talk to him that way.
He pays your rent.

That's right. So you got to
listen to what I say

because otherwise, there'll be
behavioral consequences.

Man, when you put them
in the microwave, they get disgusting.

I'm not eating them.

Whoa! Hey, now! Hey. Whoa.

Margarita brought you french fries.

You better get f*cking hungry
real quick!

Emiliano, do me a favor.

Get the f*ck out of my face.

I know I look strict, right?

But secretly, deep down inside,

they're just happy that there's
actually an adult in charge.

Sit down. Sit down. Eat. Eat.

Impact target,
30 seconds from flash.

Repeat, impact target
is 30 seconds from flash.

Not a bad first combat tour,
huh, Bennett'?

Yeah. Cleaning porta-johns
and dancing like a rent boy

while Skynet does
all the fun stuff.

Aw, come on, now. You know the
biggest bombs in the whole w*r

get dropped in the porta-john.

Ha-ha.
Yeah. Maybe I'll get a medal

for most excellent sh*t soldier.

Lock it up. Eat your
m*therf*cking ice cream.

We're about to deliver some serious
freedom through their skulls.

We have target confirmed.

Go to fire.

- Oh, shh.
- Two... one... kaboom.

Oh!

- f*ck yeah, bro!
- b*mb! Have b*mb!

b*mb! b*mb! Them!

No! No! It's not him!

No!

Grenade!

Bennett, pick it up!

f*ck!

Yeah. Come in.

I need to add my lawyer
to my visitation list.

You having problems
with your case?

No. And please take
my husband off my list.

Why don't you
have a seat, Red?

I won't be staying,
but thank you.

Please. Sit.

You want to tell me
what's going on?

I married a pillow.

Soft, lumpy,
and always lying behind my back.

Words like "always"
are absolutes.

And using them is a way to
reinforce what we want to believe.

When speaking emotionally,
absolutes can be dangerous.

Good advice. Thank you.

Please add my lawyer
and remove my husband.

You know, Red,
marriage is a two-way street.

And you can't swim
without getting wet.

See? I can say clichés, too. Ha.

You owe it to your younger self

to explore those things that
made you want to marry this man

in the first place.

You may find
that they're still there.

I owe my younger self 23 years
of wild sex with multiple partners,

but I'll settle
for my name back.

You made a lifelong commitment.

That's sacred.

You don't know my story, Healy.

And you don't know
what he's done.

Hey!Language.

I know what that word means,

and it's not okay
to refer to your husband

or any other man that way.

You know, you huff in here
like some put-upon martyr,

like a smile
would break your face,

trivializing a man's emotions.

What is that, some kind of
a Russian thing or something?

- What the hell does that me--
- Hey! Language! Again.

That's the last time that I'm
gonna warn you, Mrs. Reznikov.

You forget where you are?

Just like you forget

that your husband
has a stake in this, too?

Just because
he made some mistakes

doesn't mean
that you can run off

and go sleep
in your mother's room

at the first sign
of white caps on the ocean.

That is a bad f*cking plan.

It's a great f*cking plan.
dr*gs in the tool belt.

Tool belt to Luschek.
Luschek to the streets.

Money. Don't overthink it.

You know, I missed the part
where you contribute.

I am the fairy godmother who watches
over you to make sure that the plan

doesn't go up
your cute little nose.

Great. Finally, I get a mother
who gives a sh*t about me,

and it's
bibbity-bobbity-big-boo.

Boo.

- Huh?
- We got a problem.

- Someone stole our candy.
- Oh!

f*ck!

All right, that's the last

of the E dorm mattresses,
Mr. Caputo.

No books. We're gonna try
to salvage those.

Are you kidding me?

- Doesn't matter.
- What's that?

Doesn't matter.

So, I'm confused.

They're from that bush
in the yard by the greenhouse.

They're not bean leaves, but, uh,
they have, like, pods on them,

so I thought maybe they--

Are you sleeping?

You know, you can't actually
feel the bites.

Bedbug saliva
contains a substance

that acts as a mild anesthetic.

It's in your head.

I should sleep without
a mattress more often.

It's good for my back.

If you feel like
that's the right thing to do,

then you should
absolutely do it.

Still trying to preserve
my kibun?

I told Alex the truth
about something today,

and she told me
that I was a manipulative...

She told me I was manipulative.

I lie.

I get in trouble.

I truth.

I get in trouble.

I can't do anything right.

What are you asking for? Advice?
Here's some.

Stop buying into
your own horse sh*t.

You tell me I'm scratching
is my imagination?

Look around.
The prison is crawling.

You can tell everyone they can't
feel it all night long,

but in the morning,
we've all been a bug buffet.

Stop trying to mold
the real world

into the one
inside your pointy blond head.

Maybe I am manipulative.

From what I've seen,
to get what you want,

while telling everyone
how clean you are,

you play dirty.

You just described my mother.

She's a kibun ninja.

Or whatever the Korean version
of ninja is.

And then the W.A.S.P. version
of that.

Awaken your inner Russian.

No more bullshit.

Na zdarovya.

The world is better
in black and white.

And red.

That's my favorite Daya story.

What is it?

What, you bang her and you don't
know her quinceanera story?

She tells that story
to everybody.

Aleida got wasted,

and she tripped
and fell in the birthday cake,

and the candles
lit her dress on fire.

But you got to hear
the way Daya tells it.

I ain't gonna lie, man.
This sh*t ain't easy.

Yeah. I'm gonna have to
go it alone for a while.

No, no, no. You get yourself
a little side of bacon.

Like Margarita.

That's what women are made for.

That used to be Daya's crib.

And all the other
little scrubs, too.

It's nothing fancy, but, uh,
it's got a lot of good luck.

Buena suerte.

I want you to have it, man.

What about her?

We'll get her something else.

It's for Aleida's family.

Salud.

Margarita!

Yeah.

La nena esta cagada.

Dios mio.

Six months old,
but she shits like a human.

Good morning, ladies.

Additional linen uniforms
are now available.

If you are small
or an extra small,

first come, first serve.

You bitch!

f*ck you, Alex!

f*ck you!