Fargo (2014–…): Season 4, Episode 3 - Episode #4.3 - full transcript
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Antecedently on Fargo...
JOSTO:
Doctor!
Doctor! Doctor.
We need a doctor.
I'm the hospital administrator,
Dr. Harvard.
We serve only a certain class
of people.
That guy put my family
on the street
like we were shit on his spats.
He lost his breathing license.
‐(gunshots)
‐(shouts)
(woman screams)
ODIS:
I‐I can find a patsy
to frame up.
But you got to lay off
this Dr. Harvard.
(snorts)
Holy Christmas.
Will you take care of him?
(grunting)
ORAETTA:
I shall attend him
faithfully
until the Lord arrives.
SNEET:
I'm saying you're fired.
Me and Donatello were talking
about us
taking over the slaughterhouse
before he died...
is our position.
(screaming)
Swanee and me got prospects.
What kind of prospects?
Bank robbin'.
(mimics gunshots)
(orchestra warming up)
(baton tapping)
♪ ♪
(dogs barking in distance)
(sniffing)
(dogs barking)
(sniffs)
(barking)
(siren wailing)
(panting)
(indistinct chatter)
(dog barks softly)
♪ ♪
(sniffs)
(indistinct chatter)
Jesus on a stick!
‐Language.
‐What?
Keep a civil tongue, I'm saying.
Who the hot Christ are you?
You always take the Lord's name
in vain with this much gusto?
You're fuckin'‐A right.
Flannigan!
You want a cup of coffee?
Yeah, Chief.
Black, two sugars.
Thank you, no.
In my faith we abstain
from caffeinated beverages,
both hot and cold.
In your...?
There were 12 tribes of Israel.
Ten were lost.
Lost who, what, now?
Ten were lost.
Two of those made their way
across the sea
to this great and sacred land.
The Nephites and the Lamanites.
Once here,
the rebellious Lamanites
were cursed by God
with skin of blackness
so they would not be attractive
to my people.
The...
What do you‐‐ Nephites?
Mormons.
You asked my faith.
I'm a priest
of the Mormon Church
and a member
of the Quorum of Seventy.
Do you mind? I haven't eaten
since last evening.
Last time I checked,
there's still a kill order
on the books
for all Mormons
in the state of Missouri.
Sadly, the people of Missouri
are not sympathetic
to our faith.
And yet here you are.
And yet here I am,
solid in my beliefs
and unafraid.
And for why?
I'm sorry?
I'm saying, with all due respect
to Your Holiness,
what the slippery fuck
are you doing in my office
at 8:00 a. m.
on a Wednesday morning,
Mormon or no?
U.S. Marshal Dick Wickware,
in pursuit of two cons
escaped the night previous
from Our Lady of Regret
Women's Prison.
(exhales)
For shit's sake, son,
why the Christ didn't you
just say so when I walked in?
Captain Hanhuck,
I can safely say
you blasphemy more than any man
I've ever met.
And I've been to Cleveland.
Two cons, you said?
Yes, sir.
One Zelmare Roulette,
one Swanee Capps.
What kind of cockeyed names
are those?
Uh, the first is
a descendant from slaves.
The other's an Indian.
And you think they came here,
to Kansas City?
And I was hoping
you might assign me
a local yes‐man
to aid in my pursuit.
Hmm.
(chuckles softly)
(door opens)
Weff!
Cap?
I'm assigning you
to the marshal here.
Help track down
a couple loose cons.
Okay. Just‐‐ I‐I caught the...
I'm working the homicide
from yesterday, the...
society matron
and her man Friday.
Is that why you drove out
to see the Faddas yesterday?
(stammers)
That's...
Yeah, we spoke.
HANHUCK:
How about we kick that case
to Manlin,
and you help the deacon here?
The deacon?
Dick Wickware,
but people call me Deafy.
(loudly):
You're‐you're deaf?
I could see how you'd leap
to that conclusion, but, no,
they call me Deafy on account
of I hear what I want to hear.
And what I want to hear
right now is,
you've got an address for
the sister of one of my runners.
(grunts)
♪ ♪
(exhales)
(quietly): One little, two
little, three little Indians.
Four little, five little,
six little Indians.
♪ ♪
(cow moos)
(Oraetta humming)
ODIS (quietly):
Ten little Indian boys.
(sniffles)
One little, two little,
three little Indians,
four little, five little,
six little Indians,
seven little, eight little,
nine little Indians.
(sniffles)
Ten little Indian boys.
(sniffles)
You got Satan in your heart,
don't you, Palomino?
What?
I'm saying, here's you,
a host of ticks and tells,
which‐‐
either the devil's got you
or you got yourself
a nervous condition.
Is that it?
Do I make you nervous?
Why don't we step outside
and see who gets nervous?
How's that?
(Odis exhales sharply)
So, you been hunting fugitives
a long while now?
Since I was in short pants.
Christian, Jew, Negro.
Male, female, hermaphrodite.
Makes no difference.
Tracked a one‐eyed Mexican
all the way to the ocean once.
Caught him trying to paddle
to China.
Which‐‐ Can you picture a Mexico
man washing up in China?
(scoffs)
(sniffs) And you think this
Zelmare fled to her sister's?
We got a saying back
in Salt Lake.
‐Only God knows the true truth.
‐(sniffling)
But at the risk
of sounding prideful,
I'm a pretty good judge
of character.
Plus, we got skells
on the inside saying
our girl spent
the last few weeks jawing
about how her sister's
in trouble.
So, makes more sense to me
than clam chowder.
Yeah, well, get it done.
I got a real case to work.
This socialite murder
you mentioned.
And who's this Fadda family
your captain spoke of?
Just some local Italians.
(crunching)
(door opens)
(crunching continues)
(Oraetta sighs)
(humming)
‐(doorbell rings)
‐DEAFY: We had some
spaghetti eaters in Salt Lake
before the war.
Caught 'em trying
to map a beachhead.
Put an end to that right quick.
You know,
not everyone darker
than a Norseman's
running around
with sin in their heart.
Well, look at you.
Mr. Boy Scout.
(stammers)
Go fuck your aunt and uncle.
How's that?
(exhales)
(lighter opens, flicks)
(lighter shuts)
(door closes)
We're moving.
♪ ♪
Hands in the air, citizen.
Secure him.
ODIS:
Move.
(scraping, shuffling)
Ladies.
ODIS:
Here.
Sit down. Sit.
Might one of you be
Dibrell Roulette?
We're just cleaning, sir.
I count five place settings
and three of you.
MAN:
Might be behind some kind
of paneling or something.
I'm guessing you're the niece.
She's a minor.
And I don't consent
to her questioning.
DEAFY:
Where's your sister?
Harboring a known fugitive
is a felony.
You want your mom to go to jail?
Don't look at her.
Look at me.
Where's your aunt?
Prison.
(sighs)
Start a search.
Residence is upstairs.
They run a mortuary
in the basement.
Show me.
(stammers)
Put down the damn pie.
Jesus Christ.
♪ ♪
(exhales) Step back.
Get out of here. Jesus.
(grunts)
(grunts)
(grunts)
(grunts)
(grunts)
(panting)
(door opens)
(panting)
(murmurs)
(whispering): One little, two
little, three little Indians.
‐Four little, five little,
six little Indians.
‐What?
(exhales)
Ten little Indian boys.
(panting)
♪ ♪
(Baxter retches)
‐Jesus.
‐(gags)
(Odis muttering)
(exhaling)
(Baxter retching)
(Odis exhales)
The basement's clear.
‐I got to...
‐Thank you.
(both panting)
DEAFY:
I'm gonna ask you
one last time.
Where's your sister?
We told you.
Zelmare is in Our Lady of Regret
Women's Prison
serving five years
for armed robbery.
Was in the women's
correctional.
She escaped last night.
DIBRELL:
I‐I told that girl.
I told her.
This is His will.
He is sending you a message,
and you better listen.
You know who I mean
when I say "His will"?
Yes, ma'am, I most certainly do.
Well, I told her,
you stay in that place
and get your head
screwed on right.
Give up the sinning.
Renounce your lawlessness
and appropriation of spirits.
We were put on this Earth
to toil in His name.
Not to sow oats.
‐So you haven't seen her?
‐Seen her?
Officer, if I ever see
my sister again,
I'm gonna wring her neck.
♪ ♪
(inhales, exhales quietly)
You all have a nice night.
Sorry for the disturbance.
(door closes)
Just...
give me a moment.
(exhales)
Well, let's go check the damage.
Ethelrida, stay down here
and see about cleaning up.
(entry bell jingles)
‐You had a close call.
‐Hmm?
‐Is what I heard.
‐Oh.
Yet cooler heads prevailed.
‐Here you are.
‐I think
some flapjacks
this morning, Nadine.
You got it.
‐I'll take this.
‐No, that's all right.
‐Okay.
‐You're not eating?
I'm not saying
it wasn't a smart play,
moving on the slaughterhouses.
But you must've knew
it wouldn't stick.
Well, he gave permission,
the old man.
Last week at the playground.
(scoffs)
Well, you tell me one thing
ever got given to you
in this world
that you didn't have to take.
Hmm?
And I'm saying...
...respect the deal.
‐Thank you.
‐Mm‐hmm.
You didn't serve in the war,
did you?
(grunts)
I was in the legal corps.
Army. Pushing papers.
After the cease‐fire,
they send me to Nuremberg
for the trials.
Last Negro in Germany,
I'd imagine.
Mm‐hmm.
You ever heard of the Double V?
Hmm.
It's what they sold us.
Mm‐hmm.
Fight for our country,
and we get two victories.
One for America and one
for we sons of servitude.
No more lynchings.
No more blackjacks at the polls.
Hmm? Okay.
So, they send me to Nuremberg,
and this colonel tells me
he's got a big job for me.
Says, "You're gonna interview
Hermann Göring,
the Reichsmarschall himself."
Says, "Days, weeks,
however long it takes
to get him to talk."
Says, "I need you,
Doctor Senator, Esquire,
"to use your training,
your skills
to build the People's case."
Well, now,
what is that
if not the double victory?
Hmm?
So I sit with the man
for six weeks,
eight hours a day,
six days a week,
and we get into it.
The first two weeks,
he just stares at me,
murder in his eyes.
But I use my wiles.
You know, appeal to his ego.
Get him talking.
Ah. Soon he won't shut up.
Bragging
about every little thing,
and I type it down
and write it up for the colonel
word‐for‐word.
I spend two weeks
crafting my conclusion,
my analysis
of international law.
Then, one Sunday morning,
after services,
I knock on the colonel's door
and I give him my report.
You know what he does?
Throws it in the trash.
Yeah.
400 pages with footnotes.
Throws it in the trash
and says...
"I just wanted to make
that old Nazi squirm..."
"...having to answer
to a Negro."
So... you say respect the deal?
(silverware clatters)
Excuse me if I say
our word is exactly
as good as yours.
The slaughterhouses,
they belong to us.
Deal or no deal.
You can call it the cost
of transition.
I'll pass it on.
MILLIGAN:
There's no mystery to it.
Everything breaks, and there's
a right way to fix it.
Are you Jewish?
No.
Then how come
they call you Rabbi?
Isn't rabbi a Jewish priest?
You ever play poker?
But you know there's a game
called poker, played with cards.
Well, there's this saying
in poker:
you play the hand you're dealt.
You and me, we're proof of that.
You see, when yours truly
was a boy,
he had the same thing happen
to him, what happened to you.
SATCHEL:
You got traded?
What?
From baseball.
That's what my daddy said.
I got traded to another team.
Exactly.
I got traded twice.
Except, well, for you,
you get to go back
to your original team one day.
Is this your original team?
No.
My team was shite.
(door opens)
What are these words?
Team, traded?
It's nothing.
Doesn't matter.
Say it again.
I want to, I want to hear.
‐Yeah.
‐We'll get out of your way.
(Gaetano laughs)
This was our home in Italy,
my country.
Yeah.
(chuckles)
The fascists knock it down,
and so I live in the trees.
(chuckles)
(sighs)
(chuckles)
So... you're Irish, hmm?
American.
I'm American.
(sighs)
But you came to us
when you were just a boy.
And you killed
your own father...
for us.
What's that like?
(gunshot)
Who remembers?
"Who remembers?"
I like it.
(Gaetano chuckles)
What the fuck is this?
I got it.
A trade, yeah?
You, Rabbi, for you.
Hmm.
Come on, kid.
Get out of my chair.
No.
I like it.
It's too big for you, no?
Up.
Did you make trouble at
the slaughterhouse last night?
Who, me?
I take care of things.
I'm the boss, I'm the one
who takes care of things.
(Gaetano laughing)
You?
You can't even take care
of this doctor
who kicks our family
out on the street.
What'd you say to me?
‐You can't even take care of...
‐(Satchel sneezes)
Why is he in here?
‐This is my office.
‐My mistake.
Your man asked me
to fix the radiator.
I...
There's secret stuff here.
And he's a...
Think.
Retard, use your head next time.
And you.
You think I can't take care
of some piece‐of‐shit
pencil pusher?
Is that what you think?!
Mm‐hmm.
Get out.
All of you.
You follow orders.
You hear me?
Or go home.
What are you doing?
Put that back.
(clicks tongue)
(whispering):
Look at this fucking mess.
It's not too big.
It's just right.
(sighs)
You were at St. Bartholomew's.
Yes, sir, three years.
Good souls all, but...
(sighs)
I like to go where I feel
I can be most useful,
and I heard
you might have hardship.
Three of our older nurses
retired last month.
(sighs)
Experience‐‐ it can't be bought.
Now, I myself have
over ten years' service,
starting as a candy striper
and delivering treats
to the tots.
You worked for Allen Sneet?
Yes, sir, he's a fair boss,
considerate but firm.
He'll give you
a good recommendation?
Hmm, well, I should hope so.
I used to bake him
cookies once a week.
We are shorthanded right now.
Well, you can't have that,
what with cold and flu season
coming on.
Can you start next week?
I'll be here with bells on.
Fine.
Go see Mrs. Meeker
in the office.
‐She'll start the paperwork.
‐Oh. (chuckles)
If‐if there is one thing I love,
it's a man of action
who just knows what he wants
and goes for it.
Y‐You won't regret this, sir.
(stammers)
Just so I'm in the know,
what's your favorite sweet,
baked or otherwise?
That won't be necessary.
Come now.
Everyone's got a birthday.
I am‐‐ hmm‐‐ partial
to the macaroon.
Mmm. Challenge accepted.
(laughs softly)
Ta, for now.
(in distance):
Apparently I got the job.
(Harvard snorts)
♪ ♪
(quietly):
Bang.
‐(knocking on glass)
‐Whoa!
I'm on to you, mister.
Spying on a chaste and proper
woman in the course of her day.
What...?
What would the preacher say?
I'm not spying on you.
Your face.
I'm kidding.
(laughs)
But you're a cheeky devil.
Dollars to doughnuts.
Don't get me wrong‐‐ I've had
my fair share of suitors.
None that are worth the paper
they're printed on.
But after our encounter
the first,
and then again at the funeral,
I said to myself,
I said, "Oraetta,
this one's different."
Who are you?
(laughs)
Very funny, you.
Trying to play coy
after tracking me down
to my new place of work.
Maybe this'll
refresh your memory.
Keep talking.
See, I was thinking about you
after the chapel,
looking so sad,
and I said to myself,
I said, "Oraetta,
aw, this fella,
"he is carrying a heavy load,
"what with the death
of his father‐‐
the paterfamilias‐‐"
(sniffs)
"and him now
responsible for it all."
Go on. Ease the pain.
Fuck it.
(sniffs)
(sighs)
(sniffling)
‐Okay. Whoa.
‐(zipper opens)
‐Jesus Christ.
What are you doing?
‐(shushing)
You think too much.
(shushing)
♪ Mine eyes have seen the glory
of the coming of the Lord ♪
♪ He has trampled out
the vintage ♪
♪ Where the grapes of wrath
are stored ♪
♪ He hath loosed
His fateful lightning ♪
♪ With His terrible
swift sword ♪
♪ His truth is marching on ♪
‐(grunts)
‐♪ Glory... ♪
(panting)
(exhales)
(car door opens)
Wait.
What is your name again?
(laughs softly)
You're such a kidder.
(sighs)
But I'm serious.
Call a girl on the phone
next time, ask her out proper.
♪ ♪
DWAYNE:
Mr. Cannon.
Please, Mr. Cannon,
let‐let me just
barber with you for a minute.
‐Whoa‐whoa‐whoa.
‐Just a moment of your time.
Let him through.
What you need, son?
Just rub some coins together‐‐
that's all.
Just‐just a cup of joe.
Cup of joe?
That's why your eyes so runny?
Too much Sanka?
Let me see what I got for you.
You see that?
What happened to his face
when I pull out my roll.
What do we call that, Doctor?
‐We call that the blight.
‐The blight.
See, five seconds ago
this young hustler
was fingering the holes
in his pocket, living the now.
But then he sees this
and he starts to dream.
"With that much cash,
I can make plans.
Turn my shit around."
Right? So now he's planning
months into the future‐‐
sees himself all cleaned up,
fine girl on his arm.
Then, what do you know?
He ain't even colored no more.
He's J. P. fucking Morgan.
An American success story.
But watch this.
‐Hey, hey, hey, hey. Hey.
‐Mm‐mm.
You see that?
I just stole from that man.
Forget it weren't his money.
Just seeing that much scratch,
he made a future for himself.
And I took that from him.
S‐So, am I getting paid or...?
Get the fuck out of here.
That ain't right.
That ain't right!
♪ Well, it's oh, lordy me ♪
♪ Yes, it's oh, lordy my ♪
‐Ain't that a bitch.
‐♪ Who's gonna be your man? ♪
Ain't right.
‐♪ Oh, lordy me ♪
‐Ain't right.
♪ Yes, it's oh, lordy my... ♪
I count ten in, five out.
You know what that means.
We're gonna have to reload.
‐(laughs)
‐♪ Who's gonna glove
your hand? ♪
♪ Who's gonna kiss
your red ruby lips? ♪
♪ Who's gonna be your man? ♪
♪ Who's gonna be
your man? ♪
♪ Oh, lordy me, yes,
it's oh, lordy my ♪
♪ Who's gonna be your man? ♪
♪ Papa's gonna shoe
my pretty little foot ♪
♪ Mama's gonna glove my hand ♪
♪ Sister's gonna kiss
my red ruby lips ♪
♪ I won't need no man... ♪
I got it.
What'd you get?
The lesson, what you told
the boy‐‐ I listen.
I want to let you know, these
other boys‐‐ they're muscle.
But my head's in the game.
I want to learn. I'm smart.
You copacetic?
Kid's trying to tell me
he see himself as managerial.
‐Oh, is that right?
‐Yes, sir, whatever you need.
‐Mm‐hmm. How old are you?
‐26.
‐Hmm.
‐You like jazz?
Yes, sir.
‐Big band or Dixieland?
‐Bebop.
There's a new cat,
Dizzy Gillespie.
He burn it up.
How about this?
My son's trying to drop out
of community college
so he can smoke reefer
and blow spit through metal.
I'm gonna make you his driver.
You're gonna pal up to him
and keep him on the path.
That managerial enough for you?
Leon'll get it done.
You still think
the slaughterhouse
‐was the right play?
‐Oh, yeah.
Mm‐hmm. Hubris to think
that you can control things.
That's why God created tornados.
To remind us.
Yeah.
But you can raise the odds.
♪ I wanna be your man ♪
♪ I'm gonna be your man ♪
♪ I'm gonna be
your man. ♪
What?
He went out. Josto.
(man whistles)
ANTOON:
Boss said no killing.
I'm just saying.
Shh.
Ah.
Calamita.
(sighs)
‐Hmm?
‐PAOLO: Boss.
Take Irish. Hmm?
(chuckles)
(exhales)
(humming softly)
Hmm?
(Paolo chuckles)
We fight...
or we die.
Yes?
‐Yes.
‐(speaks Italian)
(laughs)
(Paolo laughs)
(whispers):
The fuck...
(billiard balls clatter)
(sighs)
(baseball game playing
indistinctly on radio)
SATCHEL:
Marco.
Polo.
Marco.
Polo.
We got business.
I don't come back,
I'm dead or in jail.
Do your lessons.
(door closes)
(bell clanging)
MILLIGAN:
You thinking of signing up
for some courses?
(Calamita chuckles)
History of the Roman Empire?
Introduction to
Animal Husbandry?
Chuckle up, sneezy.
Your time is coming.
Meaning?
Meaning you know.
Same side, you and me,
last I checked.
Mm. Is that right?
You gonna tell me the play?
You'll put it together
once you see.
See what?
The oldest?
We're just scaring him, right?
Oh, yeah, he's gonna be scared
all right.
If we kill him, they'll hang
Zero from the nearest tree.
It's not my problem.
♪ ♪
Roll your window down.
It's a bum play, I'm saying.
Think about it.
We do this, it's war.
So I want to make sure
we got this on good authority.
That it's cleared.
Get your heater out.
Josto gave the order?
The boss?
He said kill the kid?
(sighs)
Answer me.
Gaetano said make it personal.
And Josto knows?
(scoffs softly)
They'll carve Zero up.
They'll send him home in pieces.
Get ready.
(dog barking)
(bebop jazz playing)
Do it.
♪ ♪
‐(gunshots)
‐(tires screeching)
(horn honking)
(gunshot)
Stop! I won't ask twice.
You're dead, you Irish fuck.
Maybe.
Or maybe I tell Josto
his brother's giving orders
like he's boss
and you're taking 'em.
And then maybe it's you
pushing daisies.
I'll walk home.
♪ ♪
It true your family's cursed?
‐Who told you that?
‐Your sister.
In the hoosegow.
You know how people
get to talking.
She says the devil followed you
all straight out of Mississippi
and into Kansas City.
Says you've seen him.
‐Mom?
‐That's not‐‐
she's just telling tales.
Looking for attention.
Maybe, but...
I seen this land,
from Bozeman to Little Rock.
My daddy built the railroad.
He was a Chinaman,
heard voices on the breeze.
He ended up living in a cave
with a coyote
who tricked him in his sleep.
He had two shadows, my daddy.
‐One for him...
‐(lighter flicks)
...one for the devil.
(coyote howling)
He used to hug me
around my neck,
just a little too hard,
late at night.
See, people think
it's houses get haunted.
But it ain't.
ZELMARE:
I'm borrowing some things.
Clothes.
(heavy thud)
Clothes?
I said "things."
‐That's Thurman's daddy's gun.
‐What's he need it for?
Nobody breaks
into a funeral home,
and everyone downstairs
already dead.
(Dibrell scoffs)
You sawed it?
Pie? It's apple.
We're not shooting birds.
You better not be
shooting anybody.
Well, in my experience, folks
don't just hand over money.
You got to convince 'em.
‐Ethelrida...
‐I know. Go to my room.
Zelmare Roulette,
just who you planning to rob?
Let's just say,
if you like the setup,
‐you're gonna love
the punch line.
‐(chuckles)
THURMAN:
You ready?
Cops could be watching, maybe.
Gonna drive 'em out
in the hearse.
Y'all are gonna have
to share a coffin.
We accustomed to tight quarters.
Well, don't get emotional.
Come on, Swan Lake.
I'm‐a pinch this, too.
Leave that.
But...
♪ ♪
Just what the devil
are you two up to?
Being outlaws.
All right, make haste.
♪ Oh, men of dark
and dismal fate ♪
♪ Forgo your cruel employ ♪
♪ Have pity on
my lonely state... ♪
‐(thumping)
‐THURMAN: Comfortable?
ZELMARE (muffled):
Nope.
♪ An orphan boy... ♪
(grunting)
♪ How sad ♪
♪ An orphan boy ♪
♪ These children
whom you see are... ♪
You smell like dessert.
♪ Poor fellow ♪
♪ Take them away from me ♪
♪ And I shall be indeed alone ♪
♪ Poor fellow ♪
♪ If pity you can feel,
leave me... ♪
(stomach gurgling)
Think I ate too much pie.
‐(prolonged flatulence)
‐Oh!
‐♪ Your hearts
you cannot steel... ♪
‐Sorry.
(flatulence)
♪ Against the sad, sad tale ♪
♪ Of the lonely ♪
♪ Orphan boy ♪
♪ Poor fellow ♪
‐(groaning)
‐♪ See, at our feet they kneel ♪
♪ Our hearts
we cannot steel... ♪
(flatulence)
You up for this?
(spits)
I can go.
♪ Orphan boy... ♪
(laughs)
(kisses)
♪ The orphan boy ♪
♪ See, at our feet they kneel ♪
ZELMARE:
Click, clack.
♪ Our hearts we cannot steel ♪
♪ Against the tale
of the lonely ♪
(clattering nearby)
♪ Or... ♪
♪ ...phan boy. ♪
(gunshot)
‐Freeze, scoundrels!
‐(screaming)
All y'all get down
on the ground.
(laughs)
(Swanee coughs)
‐(retches)
‐(flatulence)
(Swanee spits, gasps)
(Swanee retches)
‐(spits, groans)
‐I'll take those greenbacks,
slick.
Girl, you got a panty
on your head.
I gotta go.
ZELMARE:
Hold your horses.
We're going as soon
as we get the dough.
‐No. I gotta go.
‐(flatulence)
Double‐time, rookie.
(Swanee retches)
(coughs)
Hey.
(gasps)
Please...
‐(flatulence)
‐(groans)
(coughing)
LO
No. They shot up the car,
but we slipped through.
Boss, they lit us up here, too.
Not now.
Did you see the hitters?
The skeleton was driving‐‐
Calamita‐‐
and Rabbi rode bitch.
He pulled the shots.
They charged in my blind spot,
but I handled it.
Now do you get it?
The cost. What it means
to be in this family.
‐Do you feel it?
‐They weren't shooting at me.
Boy, you clinically stupid?
They were shooting at you.
I was a proxy.
What?
A proxy, a stand‐in.
I know what a proxy is.
What's your name?
‐Your name.
‐Lemuel.
No, your family name.
Cannon.
You see these boys?
They got their own name.
That would make them proxies.
But you?
Your brother, your sisters,
your mama?
You're me.
Like it or don't like it.
Don't matter.
It ain't my business.
I'm a music man.
Now you're choosing
to be ignorant.
No. You're making the choosing.
But you can't have both more.
More power, more safe‐‐
you can't have both.
It's less power, more safe,
or this.
What I choose don't matter.
20 Gs... it's what they
shotgunned out of here.
Three dead.
The Italians?
OMIE:
Two broads.
One of 'em threw up everywhere.
DOCTOR SENATOR:
You got to see
the whole picture.
That's the point.
I'm saying, a coordinated action
implies planning. Hmm?
Maybe this is the Night
of the Long Knives, huh?
Lock it down.
Everything.
I want six guys
in front of the house.
Already done.
You sure it was Rabbi?
Yeah.
What does it mean?
Should I wake up the white boy
and bloody his fucking face?
Turn up the flames,
you're saying?
Hmm, bring this thing to a boil?
They're holding my son.
He could be swinging from a tree
right now, for all we know.
What I want to know is...
who gave the order?
Was it the boss
or was it the brother?
Could be they're fighting
with each other.
Hmm?
Yeah. Tail wagging the dog.
So?
Well, I'm saying,
once we start shooting back,
it's to the death.
So...
we better be sure.
♪ ♪
MAN:
Now I get it.
(rooster crows)
---
Antecedently on Fargo...
JOSTO:
Doctor!
Doctor! Doctor.
We need a doctor.
I'm the hospital administrator,
Dr. Harvard.
We serve only a certain class
of people.
That guy put my family
on the street
like we were shit on his spats.
He lost his breathing license.
‐(gunshots)
‐(shouts)
(woman screams)
ODIS:
I‐I can find a patsy
to frame up.
But you got to lay off
this Dr. Harvard.
(snorts)
Holy Christmas.
Will you take care of him?
(grunting)
ORAETTA:
I shall attend him
faithfully
until the Lord arrives.
SNEET:
I'm saying you're fired.
Me and Donatello were talking
about us
taking over the slaughterhouse
before he died...
is our position.
(screaming)
Swanee and me got prospects.
What kind of prospects?
Bank robbin'.
(mimics gunshots)
(orchestra warming up)
(baton tapping)
♪ ♪
(dogs barking in distance)
(sniffing)
(dogs barking)
(sniffs)
(barking)
(siren wailing)
(panting)
(indistinct chatter)
(dog barks softly)
♪ ♪
(sniffs)
(indistinct chatter)
Jesus on a stick!
‐Language.
‐What?
Keep a civil tongue, I'm saying.
Who the hot Christ are you?
You always take the Lord's name
in vain with this much gusto?
You're fuckin'‐A right.
Flannigan!
You want a cup of coffee?
Yeah, Chief.
Black, two sugars.
Thank you, no.
In my faith we abstain
from caffeinated beverages,
both hot and cold.
In your...?
There were 12 tribes of Israel.
Ten were lost.
Lost who, what, now?
Ten were lost.
Two of those made their way
across the sea
to this great and sacred land.
The Nephites and the Lamanites.
Once here,
the rebellious Lamanites
were cursed by God
with skin of blackness
so they would not be attractive
to my people.
The...
What do you‐‐ Nephites?
Mormons.
You asked my faith.
I'm a priest
of the Mormon Church
and a member
of the Quorum of Seventy.
Do you mind? I haven't eaten
since last evening.
Last time I checked,
there's still a kill order
on the books
for all Mormons
in the state of Missouri.
Sadly, the people of Missouri
are not sympathetic
to our faith.
And yet here you are.
And yet here I am,
solid in my beliefs
and unafraid.
And for why?
I'm sorry?
I'm saying, with all due respect
to Your Holiness,
what the slippery fuck
are you doing in my office
at 8:00 a. m.
on a Wednesday morning,
Mormon or no?
U.S. Marshal Dick Wickware,
in pursuit of two cons
escaped the night previous
from Our Lady of Regret
Women's Prison.
(exhales)
For shit's sake, son,
why the Christ didn't you
just say so when I walked in?
Captain Hanhuck,
I can safely say
you blasphemy more than any man
I've ever met.
And I've been to Cleveland.
Two cons, you said?
Yes, sir.
One Zelmare Roulette,
one Swanee Capps.
What kind of cockeyed names
are those?
Uh, the first is
a descendant from slaves.
The other's an Indian.
And you think they came here,
to Kansas City?
And I was hoping
you might assign me
a local yes‐man
to aid in my pursuit.
Hmm.
(chuckles softly)
(door opens)
Weff!
Cap?
I'm assigning you
to the marshal here.
Help track down
a couple loose cons.
Okay. Just‐‐ I‐I caught the...
I'm working the homicide
from yesterday, the...
society matron
and her man Friday.
Is that why you drove out
to see the Faddas yesterday?
(stammers)
That's...
Yeah, we spoke.
HANHUCK:
How about we kick that case
to Manlin,
and you help the deacon here?
The deacon?
Dick Wickware,
but people call me Deafy.
(loudly):
You're‐you're deaf?
I could see how you'd leap
to that conclusion, but, no,
they call me Deafy on account
of I hear what I want to hear.
And what I want to hear
right now is,
you've got an address for
the sister of one of my runners.
(grunts)
♪ ♪
(exhales)
(quietly): One little, two
little, three little Indians.
Four little, five little,
six little Indians.
♪ ♪
(cow moos)
(Oraetta humming)
ODIS (quietly):
Ten little Indian boys.
(sniffles)
One little, two little,
three little Indians,
four little, five little,
six little Indians,
seven little, eight little,
nine little Indians.
(sniffles)
Ten little Indian boys.
(sniffles)
You got Satan in your heart,
don't you, Palomino?
What?
I'm saying, here's you,
a host of ticks and tells,
which‐‐
either the devil's got you
or you got yourself
a nervous condition.
Is that it?
Do I make you nervous?
Why don't we step outside
and see who gets nervous?
How's that?
(Odis exhales sharply)
So, you been hunting fugitives
a long while now?
Since I was in short pants.
Christian, Jew, Negro.
Male, female, hermaphrodite.
Makes no difference.
Tracked a one‐eyed Mexican
all the way to the ocean once.
Caught him trying to paddle
to China.
Which‐‐ Can you picture a Mexico
man washing up in China?
(scoffs)
(sniffs) And you think this
Zelmare fled to her sister's?
We got a saying back
in Salt Lake.
‐Only God knows the true truth.
‐(sniffling)
But at the risk
of sounding prideful,
I'm a pretty good judge
of character.
Plus, we got skells
on the inside saying
our girl spent
the last few weeks jawing
about how her sister's
in trouble.
So, makes more sense to me
than clam chowder.
Yeah, well, get it done.
I got a real case to work.
This socialite murder
you mentioned.
And who's this Fadda family
your captain spoke of?
Just some local Italians.
(crunching)
(door opens)
(crunching continues)
(Oraetta sighs)
(humming)
‐(doorbell rings)
‐DEAFY: We had some
spaghetti eaters in Salt Lake
before the war.
Caught 'em trying
to map a beachhead.
Put an end to that right quick.
You know,
not everyone darker
than a Norseman's
running around
with sin in their heart.
Well, look at you.
Mr. Boy Scout.
(stammers)
Go fuck your aunt and uncle.
How's that?
(exhales)
(lighter opens, flicks)
(lighter shuts)
(door closes)
We're moving.
♪ ♪
Hands in the air, citizen.
Secure him.
ODIS:
Move.
(scraping, shuffling)
Ladies.
ODIS:
Here.
Sit down. Sit.
Might one of you be
Dibrell Roulette?
We're just cleaning, sir.
I count five place settings
and three of you.
MAN:
Might be behind some kind
of paneling or something.
I'm guessing you're the niece.
She's a minor.
And I don't consent
to her questioning.
DEAFY:
Where's your sister?
Harboring a known fugitive
is a felony.
You want your mom to go to jail?
Don't look at her.
Look at me.
Where's your aunt?
Prison.
(sighs)
Start a search.
Residence is upstairs.
They run a mortuary
in the basement.
Show me.
(stammers)
Put down the damn pie.
Jesus Christ.
♪ ♪
(exhales) Step back.
Get out of here. Jesus.
(grunts)
(grunts)
(grunts)
(grunts)
(grunts)
(panting)
(door opens)
(panting)
(murmurs)
(whispering): One little, two
little, three little Indians.
‐Four little, five little,
six little Indians.
‐What?
(exhales)
Ten little Indian boys.
(panting)
♪ ♪
(Baxter retches)
‐Jesus.
‐(gags)
(Odis muttering)
(exhaling)
(Baxter retching)
(Odis exhales)
The basement's clear.
‐I got to...
‐Thank you.
(both panting)
DEAFY:
I'm gonna ask you
one last time.
Where's your sister?
We told you.
Zelmare is in Our Lady of Regret
Women's Prison
serving five years
for armed robbery.
Was in the women's
correctional.
She escaped last night.
DIBRELL:
I‐I told that girl.
I told her.
This is His will.
He is sending you a message,
and you better listen.
You know who I mean
when I say "His will"?
Yes, ma'am, I most certainly do.
Well, I told her,
you stay in that place
and get your head
screwed on right.
Give up the sinning.
Renounce your lawlessness
and appropriation of spirits.
We were put on this Earth
to toil in His name.
Not to sow oats.
‐So you haven't seen her?
‐Seen her?
Officer, if I ever see
my sister again,
I'm gonna wring her neck.
♪ ♪
(inhales, exhales quietly)
You all have a nice night.
Sorry for the disturbance.
(door closes)
Just...
give me a moment.
(exhales)
Well, let's go check the damage.
Ethelrida, stay down here
and see about cleaning up.
(entry bell jingles)
‐You had a close call.
‐Hmm?
‐Is what I heard.
‐Oh.
Yet cooler heads prevailed.
‐Here you are.
‐I think
some flapjacks
this morning, Nadine.
You got it.
‐I'll take this.
‐No, that's all right.
‐Okay.
‐You're not eating?
I'm not saying
it wasn't a smart play,
moving on the slaughterhouses.
But you must've knew
it wouldn't stick.
Well, he gave permission,
the old man.
Last week at the playground.
(scoffs)
Well, you tell me one thing
ever got given to you
in this world
that you didn't have to take.
Hmm?
And I'm saying...
...respect the deal.
‐Thank you.
‐Mm‐hmm.
You didn't serve in the war,
did you?
(grunts)
I was in the legal corps.
Army. Pushing papers.
After the cease‐fire,
they send me to Nuremberg
for the trials.
Last Negro in Germany,
I'd imagine.
Mm‐hmm.
You ever heard of the Double V?
Hmm.
It's what they sold us.
Mm‐hmm.
Fight for our country,
and we get two victories.
One for America and one
for we sons of servitude.
No more lynchings.
No more blackjacks at the polls.
Hmm? Okay.
So, they send me to Nuremberg,
and this colonel tells me
he's got a big job for me.
Says, "You're gonna interview
Hermann Göring,
the Reichsmarschall himself."
Says, "Days, weeks,
however long it takes
to get him to talk."
Says, "I need you,
Doctor Senator, Esquire,
"to use your training,
your skills
to build the People's case."
Well, now,
what is that
if not the double victory?
Hmm?
So I sit with the man
for six weeks,
eight hours a day,
six days a week,
and we get into it.
The first two weeks,
he just stares at me,
murder in his eyes.
But I use my wiles.
You know, appeal to his ego.
Get him talking.
Ah. Soon he won't shut up.
Bragging
about every little thing,
and I type it down
and write it up for the colonel
word‐for‐word.
I spend two weeks
crafting my conclusion,
my analysis
of international law.
Then, one Sunday morning,
after services,
I knock on the colonel's door
and I give him my report.
You know what he does?
Throws it in the trash.
Yeah.
400 pages with footnotes.
Throws it in the trash
and says...
"I just wanted to make
that old Nazi squirm..."
"...having to answer
to a Negro."
So... you say respect the deal?
(silverware clatters)
Excuse me if I say
our word is exactly
as good as yours.
The slaughterhouses,
they belong to us.
Deal or no deal.
You can call it the cost
of transition.
I'll pass it on.
MILLIGAN:
There's no mystery to it.
Everything breaks, and there's
a right way to fix it.
Are you Jewish?
No.
Then how come
they call you Rabbi?
Isn't rabbi a Jewish priest?
You ever play poker?
But you know there's a game
called poker, played with cards.
Well, there's this saying
in poker:
you play the hand you're dealt.
You and me, we're proof of that.
You see, when yours truly
was a boy,
he had the same thing happen
to him, what happened to you.
SATCHEL:
You got traded?
What?
From baseball.
That's what my daddy said.
I got traded to another team.
Exactly.
I got traded twice.
Except, well, for you,
you get to go back
to your original team one day.
Is this your original team?
No.
My team was shite.
(door opens)
What are these words?
Team, traded?
It's nothing.
Doesn't matter.
Say it again.
I want to, I want to hear.
‐Yeah.
‐We'll get out of your way.
(Gaetano laughs)
This was our home in Italy,
my country.
Yeah.
(chuckles)
The fascists knock it down,
and so I live in the trees.
(chuckles)
(sighs)
(chuckles)
So... you're Irish, hmm?
American.
I'm American.
(sighs)
But you came to us
when you were just a boy.
And you killed
your own father...
for us.
What's that like?
(gunshot)
Who remembers?
"Who remembers?"
I like it.
(Gaetano chuckles)
What the fuck is this?
I got it.
A trade, yeah?
You, Rabbi, for you.
Hmm.
Come on, kid.
Get out of my chair.
No.
I like it.
It's too big for you, no?
Up.
Did you make trouble at
the slaughterhouse last night?
Who, me?
I take care of things.
I'm the boss, I'm the one
who takes care of things.
(Gaetano laughing)
You?
You can't even take care
of this doctor
who kicks our family
out on the street.
What'd you say to me?
‐You can't even take care of...
‐(Satchel sneezes)
Why is he in here?
‐This is my office.
‐My mistake.
Your man asked me
to fix the radiator.
I...
There's secret stuff here.
And he's a...
Think.
Retard, use your head next time.
And you.
You think I can't take care
of some piece‐of‐shit
pencil pusher?
Is that what you think?!
Mm‐hmm.
Get out.
All of you.
You follow orders.
You hear me?
Or go home.
What are you doing?
Put that back.
(clicks tongue)
(whispering):
Look at this fucking mess.
It's not too big.
It's just right.
(sighs)
You were at St. Bartholomew's.
Yes, sir, three years.
Good souls all, but...
(sighs)
I like to go where I feel
I can be most useful,
and I heard
you might have hardship.
Three of our older nurses
retired last month.
(sighs)
Experience‐‐ it can't be bought.
Now, I myself have
over ten years' service,
starting as a candy striper
and delivering treats
to the tots.
You worked for Allen Sneet?
Yes, sir, he's a fair boss,
considerate but firm.
He'll give you
a good recommendation?
Hmm, well, I should hope so.
I used to bake him
cookies once a week.
We are shorthanded right now.
Well, you can't have that,
what with cold and flu season
coming on.
Can you start next week?
I'll be here with bells on.
Fine.
Go see Mrs. Meeker
in the office.
‐She'll start the paperwork.
‐Oh. (chuckles)
If‐if there is one thing I love,
it's a man of action
who just knows what he wants
and goes for it.
Y‐You won't regret this, sir.
(stammers)
Just so I'm in the know,
what's your favorite sweet,
baked or otherwise?
That won't be necessary.
Come now.
Everyone's got a birthday.
I am‐‐ hmm‐‐ partial
to the macaroon.
Mmm. Challenge accepted.
(laughs softly)
Ta, for now.
(in distance):
Apparently I got the job.
(Harvard snorts)
♪ ♪
(quietly):
Bang.
‐(knocking on glass)
‐Whoa!
I'm on to you, mister.
Spying on a chaste and proper
woman in the course of her day.
What...?
What would the preacher say?
I'm not spying on you.
Your face.
I'm kidding.
(laughs)
But you're a cheeky devil.
Dollars to doughnuts.
Don't get me wrong‐‐ I've had
my fair share of suitors.
None that are worth the paper
they're printed on.
But after our encounter
the first,
and then again at the funeral,
I said to myself,
I said, "Oraetta,
this one's different."
Who are you?
(laughs)
Very funny, you.
Trying to play coy
after tracking me down
to my new place of work.
Maybe this'll
refresh your memory.
Keep talking.
See, I was thinking about you
after the chapel,
looking so sad,
and I said to myself,
I said, "Oraetta,
aw, this fella,
"he is carrying a heavy load,
"what with the death
of his father‐‐
the paterfamilias‐‐"
(sniffs)
"and him now
responsible for it all."
Go on. Ease the pain.
Fuck it.
(sniffs)
(sighs)
(sniffling)
‐Okay. Whoa.
‐(zipper opens)
‐Jesus Christ.
What are you doing?
‐(shushing)
You think too much.
(shushing)
♪ Mine eyes have seen the glory
of the coming of the Lord ♪
♪ He has trampled out
the vintage ♪
♪ Where the grapes of wrath
are stored ♪
♪ He hath loosed
His fateful lightning ♪
♪ With His terrible
swift sword ♪
♪ His truth is marching on ♪
‐(grunts)
‐♪ Glory... ♪
(panting)
(exhales)
(car door opens)
Wait.
What is your name again?
(laughs softly)
You're such a kidder.
(sighs)
But I'm serious.
Call a girl on the phone
next time, ask her out proper.
♪ ♪
DWAYNE:
Mr. Cannon.
Please, Mr. Cannon,
let‐let me just
barber with you for a minute.
‐Whoa‐whoa‐whoa.
‐Just a moment of your time.
Let him through.
What you need, son?
Just rub some coins together‐‐
that's all.
Just‐just a cup of joe.
Cup of joe?
That's why your eyes so runny?
Too much Sanka?
Let me see what I got for you.
You see that?
What happened to his face
when I pull out my roll.
What do we call that, Doctor?
‐We call that the blight.
‐The blight.
See, five seconds ago
this young hustler
was fingering the holes
in his pocket, living the now.
But then he sees this
and he starts to dream.
"With that much cash,
I can make plans.
Turn my shit around."
Right? So now he's planning
months into the future‐‐
sees himself all cleaned up,
fine girl on his arm.
Then, what do you know?
He ain't even colored no more.
He's J. P. fucking Morgan.
An American success story.
But watch this.
‐Hey, hey, hey, hey. Hey.
‐Mm‐mm.
You see that?
I just stole from that man.
Forget it weren't his money.
Just seeing that much scratch,
he made a future for himself.
And I took that from him.
S‐So, am I getting paid or...?
Get the fuck out of here.
That ain't right.
That ain't right!
♪ Well, it's oh, lordy me ♪
♪ Yes, it's oh, lordy my ♪
‐Ain't that a bitch.
‐♪ Who's gonna be your man? ♪
Ain't right.
‐♪ Oh, lordy me ♪
‐Ain't right.
♪ Yes, it's oh, lordy my... ♪
I count ten in, five out.
You know what that means.
We're gonna have to reload.
‐(laughs)
‐♪ Who's gonna glove
your hand? ♪
♪ Who's gonna kiss
your red ruby lips? ♪
♪ Who's gonna be your man? ♪
♪ Who's gonna be
your man? ♪
♪ Oh, lordy me, yes,
it's oh, lordy my ♪
♪ Who's gonna be your man? ♪
♪ Papa's gonna shoe
my pretty little foot ♪
♪ Mama's gonna glove my hand ♪
♪ Sister's gonna kiss
my red ruby lips ♪
♪ I won't need no man... ♪
I got it.
What'd you get?
The lesson, what you told
the boy‐‐ I listen.
I want to let you know, these
other boys‐‐ they're muscle.
But my head's in the game.
I want to learn. I'm smart.
You copacetic?
Kid's trying to tell me
he see himself as managerial.
‐Oh, is that right?
‐Yes, sir, whatever you need.
‐Mm‐hmm. How old are you?
‐26.
‐Hmm.
‐You like jazz?
Yes, sir.
‐Big band or Dixieland?
‐Bebop.
There's a new cat,
Dizzy Gillespie.
He burn it up.
How about this?
My son's trying to drop out
of community college
so he can smoke reefer
and blow spit through metal.
I'm gonna make you his driver.
You're gonna pal up to him
and keep him on the path.
That managerial enough for you?
Leon'll get it done.
You still think
the slaughterhouse
‐was the right play?
‐Oh, yeah.
Mm‐hmm. Hubris to think
that you can control things.
That's why God created tornados.
To remind us.
Yeah.
But you can raise the odds.
♪ I wanna be your man ♪
♪ I'm gonna be your man ♪
♪ I'm gonna be
your man. ♪
What?
He went out. Josto.
(man whistles)
ANTOON:
Boss said no killing.
I'm just saying.
Shh.
Ah.
Calamita.
(sighs)
‐Hmm?
‐PAOLO: Boss.
Take Irish. Hmm?
(chuckles)
(exhales)
(humming softly)
Hmm?
(Paolo chuckles)
We fight...
or we die.
Yes?
‐Yes.
‐(speaks Italian)
(laughs)
(Paolo laughs)
(whispers):
The fuck...
(billiard balls clatter)
(sighs)
(baseball game playing
indistinctly on radio)
SATCHEL:
Marco.
Polo.
Marco.
Polo.
We got business.
I don't come back,
I'm dead or in jail.
Do your lessons.
(door closes)
(bell clanging)
MILLIGAN:
You thinking of signing up
for some courses?
(Calamita chuckles)
History of the Roman Empire?
Introduction to
Animal Husbandry?
Chuckle up, sneezy.
Your time is coming.
Meaning?
Meaning you know.
Same side, you and me,
last I checked.
Mm. Is that right?
You gonna tell me the play?
You'll put it together
once you see.
See what?
The oldest?
We're just scaring him, right?
Oh, yeah, he's gonna be scared
all right.
If we kill him, they'll hang
Zero from the nearest tree.
It's not my problem.
♪ ♪
Roll your window down.
It's a bum play, I'm saying.
Think about it.
We do this, it's war.
So I want to make sure
we got this on good authority.
That it's cleared.
Get your heater out.
Josto gave the order?
The boss?
He said kill the kid?
(sighs)
Answer me.
Gaetano said make it personal.
And Josto knows?
(scoffs softly)
They'll carve Zero up.
They'll send him home in pieces.
Get ready.
(dog barking)
(bebop jazz playing)
Do it.
♪ ♪
‐(gunshots)
‐(tires screeching)
(horn honking)
(gunshot)
Stop! I won't ask twice.
You're dead, you Irish fuck.
Maybe.
Or maybe I tell Josto
his brother's giving orders
like he's boss
and you're taking 'em.
And then maybe it's you
pushing daisies.
I'll walk home.
♪ ♪
It true your family's cursed?
‐Who told you that?
‐Your sister.
In the hoosegow.
You know how people
get to talking.
She says the devil followed you
all straight out of Mississippi
and into Kansas City.
Says you've seen him.
‐Mom?
‐That's not‐‐
she's just telling tales.
Looking for attention.
Maybe, but...
I seen this land,
from Bozeman to Little Rock.
My daddy built the railroad.
He was a Chinaman,
heard voices on the breeze.
He ended up living in a cave
with a coyote
who tricked him in his sleep.
He had two shadows, my daddy.
‐One for him...
‐(lighter flicks)
...one for the devil.
(coyote howling)
He used to hug me
around my neck,
just a little too hard,
late at night.
See, people think
it's houses get haunted.
But it ain't.
ZELMARE:
I'm borrowing some things.
Clothes.
(heavy thud)
Clothes?
I said "things."
‐That's Thurman's daddy's gun.
‐What's he need it for?
Nobody breaks
into a funeral home,
and everyone downstairs
already dead.
(Dibrell scoffs)
You sawed it?
Pie? It's apple.
We're not shooting birds.
You better not be
shooting anybody.
Well, in my experience, folks
don't just hand over money.
You got to convince 'em.
‐Ethelrida...
‐I know. Go to my room.
Zelmare Roulette,
just who you planning to rob?
Let's just say,
if you like the setup,
‐you're gonna love
the punch line.
‐(chuckles)
THURMAN:
You ready?
Cops could be watching, maybe.
Gonna drive 'em out
in the hearse.
Y'all are gonna have
to share a coffin.
We accustomed to tight quarters.
Well, don't get emotional.
Come on, Swan Lake.
I'm‐a pinch this, too.
Leave that.
But...
♪ ♪
Just what the devil
are you two up to?
Being outlaws.
All right, make haste.
♪ Oh, men of dark
and dismal fate ♪
♪ Forgo your cruel employ ♪
♪ Have pity on
my lonely state... ♪
‐(thumping)
‐THURMAN: Comfortable?
ZELMARE (muffled):
Nope.
♪ An orphan boy... ♪
(grunting)
♪ How sad ♪
♪ An orphan boy ♪
♪ These children
whom you see are... ♪
You smell like dessert.
♪ Poor fellow ♪
♪ Take them away from me ♪
♪ And I shall be indeed alone ♪
♪ Poor fellow ♪
♪ If pity you can feel,
leave me... ♪
(stomach gurgling)
Think I ate too much pie.
‐(prolonged flatulence)
‐Oh!
‐♪ Your hearts
you cannot steel... ♪
‐Sorry.
(flatulence)
♪ Against the sad, sad tale ♪
♪ Of the lonely ♪
♪ Orphan boy ♪
♪ Poor fellow ♪
‐(groaning)
‐♪ See, at our feet they kneel ♪
♪ Our hearts
we cannot steel... ♪
(flatulence)
You up for this?
(spits)
I can go.
♪ Orphan boy... ♪
(laughs)
(kisses)
♪ The orphan boy ♪
♪ See, at our feet they kneel ♪
ZELMARE:
Click, clack.
♪ Our hearts we cannot steel ♪
♪ Against the tale
of the lonely ♪
(clattering nearby)
♪ Or... ♪
♪ ...phan boy. ♪
(gunshot)
‐Freeze, scoundrels!
‐(screaming)
All y'all get down
on the ground.
(laughs)
(Swanee coughs)
‐(retches)
‐(flatulence)
(Swanee spits, gasps)
(Swanee retches)
‐(spits, groans)
‐I'll take those greenbacks,
slick.
Girl, you got a panty
on your head.
I gotta go.
ZELMARE:
Hold your horses.
We're going as soon
as we get the dough.
‐No. I gotta go.
‐(flatulence)
Double‐time, rookie.
(Swanee retches)
(coughs)
Hey.
(gasps)
Please...
‐(flatulence)
‐(groans)
(coughing)
LO
No. They shot up the car,
but we slipped through.
Boss, they lit us up here, too.
Not now.
Did you see the hitters?
The skeleton was driving‐‐
Calamita‐‐
and Rabbi rode bitch.
He pulled the shots.
They charged in my blind spot,
but I handled it.
Now do you get it?
The cost. What it means
to be in this family.
‐Do you feel it?
‐They weren't shooting at me.
Boy, you clinically stupid?
They were shooting at you.
I was a proxy.
What?
A proxy, a stand‐in.
I know what a proxy is.
What's your name?
‐Your name.
‐Lemuel.
No, your family name.
Cannon.
You see these boys?
They got their own name.
That would make them proxies.
But you?
Your brother, your sisters,
your mama?
You're me.
Like it or don't like it.
Don't matter.
It ain't my business.
I'm a music man.
Now you're choosing
to be ignorant.
No. You're making the choosing.
But you can't have both more.
More power, more safe‐‐
you can't have both.
It's less power, more safe,
or this.
What I choose don't matter.
20 Gs... it's what they
shotgunned out of here.
Three dead.
The Italians?
OMIE:
Two broads.
One of 'em threw up everywhere.
DOCTOR SENATOR:
You got to see
the whole picture.
That's the point.
I'm saying, a coordinated action
implies planning. Hmm?
Maybe this is the Night
of the Long Knives, huh?
Lock it down.
Everything.
I want six guys
in front of the house.
Already done.
You sure it was Rabbi?
Yeah.
What does it mean?
Should I wake up the white boy
and bloody his fucking face?
Turn up the flames,
you're saying?
Hmm, bring this thing to a boil?
They're holding my son.
He could be swinging from a tree
right now, for all we know.
What I want to know is...
who gave the order?
Was it the boss
or was it the brother?
Could be they're fighting
with each other.
Hmm?
Yeah. Tail wagging the dog.
So?
Well, I'm saying,
once we start shooting back,
it's to the death.
So...
we better be sure.
♪ ♪
MAN:
Now I get it.
(rooster crows)