Justified (2010–2015): Season 3, Episode 10 - Guy Walks Into a Bar - full transcript

Previously on Justified...

So you get me that money,

or life in here will take a turn
for the disastrous.

How am I gonna get my hands on that money,
you think, while I am inside here?

Nap time's over, Gimpy. Come on.

What the hell, Dickie?

Well, you know, the thing is,
I really had no choice, Raylan.

They forced me into it. You see,
the escape, the money, the whole thing.

To be very clear, Raylan, I am the victim here.

Yeah, that much is clear.

What's this about, Boyd?



Well, how would you like a change
in occupation?

What do you got in mind?

There's an election coming soon,
Office of County Sheriff.

- Tillman Napier's job?
- He wasn't elected for life.

Now, he serves at the pleasure
of the good people of Harlan County.

And I think you might be just the man
for the job.

When I was young, I could sleep like a baby.

Not so much anymore, unfortunately.

Better lower that gun, Shelby.

Well, first off, how about you tell me

what you're planting inside my truck there,
Deputy Mooney?

We got a tip you've been dealing.

Well, how about you go ahead
and take it out right now?

Slow.



Putting a gun
on two uniformed sheriff deputies.

We shot you down right now, Shelby,
we'd be within our rights.

It wasn't two months ago
my doctor told me I got cancer in my liver.

Two years to live, if I'm lucky.

So if this is the way
the good Lord wants it to end,

I consider myself prepared. How about you?

Now, you're loyal to your sheriff,
and I appreciate that.

I hope you're just as loyal to me
when I'm in his spot.

Rest assured I won't send you
on no errands like this one.

Like hell. Everybody knows
that you're in Boyd Crowder's pocket.

Well, you believe what you like.

The way I see it, this is my last chance
to make something of myself

before I head to the wrong side of the grass.

You gonna just let us leave?

I'd say that sounds like a solid idea.

Two guns against one.

Well, that's impressive
you got them to stand down.

Well, I told them I have liver cancer

and I didn't mind taking one of them with me
if that's the way it had to go down.

Of course, that's bullshit.

Hell, I even told them
I'd keep them both on after I won.

You tell Jimmy until this election's over,
I don't want him leaving Shelby's side.

- Now, Boyd, I don't need...
- Shelby, please, this is bigger than just you.

Now, we all got skin in this game.

I'm gonna go get me a soda or something.

Napier goes at our man like that,
we got to strike back hard.

Let him know that he cannot push us around.

You got any ideas?

Napier's got a sister.

I haven't seen her in a long time.
As far as I know, she's still breathing.

I got a guy who could find her,
put the fear of God in her.

No, I believe I'm gonna
take care of this one myself.

So, the sheriff's sister, huh?

I trust she wasn't too difficult to locate.

Of course not. I'm just surprised, is all.

Going after the man himself is one thing,
but going after his kin,

now, that's awful nasty,
even in the midst of an election this fierce.

Well, I appreciate your input.
What about that other thing?

You sure do ask a lot of your banker,
Mr. Crowder.

Given the fact that you are
a far cry from my best customer.

Well, I admit my deposits
have been lower than I expected.

That's one way to put it.

Another way is you ain't gave me shit.

Well, I was hoping you might see
past our balance sheet,

look at the ancillary benefits
gonna come from this relationship.

Such as?

When every decision the Harlan County
Sheriff's Office makes goes through me.

So you want someone
from the County Clerk's Office.

But someone I can trust, now. implicitly.

Implicitly.

Would the county clerk himself fit that bill?

Now you're talking.

Beach towels?

There's 3 inches of water
down here, asshole!

All right, what do you
want me to do about it, Terry?

This never would have happened

if you weren't too damn cheap
to keep this place up.

Yeah, I got to go. You call a plumber.

- I'll get back to you.
- Don't you hang up...

God, woman takes my house,

then she calls me up to complain
about a goddamn busted pipe!

I'm still here, asshole.

Oh, man.

What's your excuse?

- I already seen it, Raylan.
- It's gonna happen?

Yep. You know it is, or you wouldn't be here.

He already got out once
under unjust circumstances.

We gonna let it happen again?

Yeah, well, sometimes,
you can flush all you want,

but there's just that one floater
that just won't go down.

You're the presiding judge.
Just make it go down.

I'm bound and gagged by this one, son.

Every ambulance-chasing lawyer in Kentucky
wants to take this case

and sue the shit
out of the federal government

for what happened to him at Tramble.

Cry me a river. He got out of jail.

- At gunpoint.
- So he says.

- And Dewey Crowe backs him up.
- Angling for his own release, no doubt.

Yeah, well, maybe we could ask
the crooked guards and nurses.

No, wait, we can't. You killed them.

I just shot the one nurse, the woman.

Look. Just push it back a little while.

Let me have some time
to find a reason to keep him in.

Look, I know what he did to you
and I'm sorry but I can't help you.

Now, you can try and convince the AUSA
to change their position.

If you can't,
Dickie Bennett's gonna walk free.

Hello, Hanna.

Well, I've just been sitting here
admiring your tablescapes.

I know who you are.

Is that so?

You're running that man
against my brother, Tillman, for sheriff.

Well, for a woman who's been
off the beaten path for as long as you have,

you certainly stay well-informed.

Not from talking to Tillman. Okay?
We ain't talked regular going on 15 years.

Well, you had a falling out, did you?

I was laid up three months last year,
medical bills piling up sky high.

Man wouldn't even return my phone calls.

Well, a man who doesn't
take care of his family

ain't much of a man in my book.

So, you think he's gonna give a shit
if you slap me around?

Hanna, you got me all wrong.

I come here to offer you a job.

- Mr. Vasquez.
- Raylan, I wish I could help, but I can't.

- Dickie Bennett killed a woman.
- That's not what he's in for,

and I can't keep him in prison
for the rest of his life

because he whupped your ass.

- First, I don't think that's a fair assessment.
- Regardless.

Second, what if I give you a reason
to at least push the hearing back?

Okay, what are we talking about?

Thinking I go see Wade Messer,

offer him leniency
for setting me up the way he did,

and see what else he can finger Dickie on.

Messer's not gonna talk to you.

We're old buddies.

- I offer him a reduced sentence...
- There's nothing to reduce.

The only reason Messer's on the inside
is because he helped Dickie.

- If we drop the charges against Dickie...
- Messer walks, too.

Yeah, you've got no leverage
to make him tell you anything.

Oh, shit.

Look, Raylan, I'm not in the business
of letting assholes out of jail, okay,

so if you got something real,
bring it to me and I'll listen to you.

But otherwise,
the judge is gonna pardon Dickie.

Always good to see you.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.
You taking actual shot glasses?

No, put those back and
pull the goddamn Dixie cups that I bought.

Good Lord.

Shot of the cheap stuff for every vote,

and a shot of the good stuff
if they bring a friend.

Now, make sure you water down
that cheap stuff enough so it lasts.

The boys I hired,
they know what they're doing.

All right. Arlo's got a guy
hauling folks out of Paden Holler.

That's good. And Emmett Holler?

Well, Arlo's gonna make that run himself.

Arlo's driving a bus?

Oh, shit. Well, there's some folks
might not make it to the polls.

Ava, baby, how are things on your end?

The girls, they're excited to practice
their constitutional right to vote

and to give a free hand job
for every vote cast for our man, Shelby.

They already gave out blowjobs

to a couple boys
Napier was counting on to haul for him

and convinced them to take the day off.

I'm not sure I ought to be listening to this.

Well, Shelby, now,
this is the nature of Harlan County politics.

Now, the people of Harlan County
are ready for a change.

They deserve a change.

And we gonna win this thing.

- Yes, we are.
- Damn straight.

Yes, we can.

Hello? It is.

You sure about that?

You absolutely certain?

No, of course not.
I appreciate the phone call.

What is it?

There's a chance that Dickie Bennett
might get out of Tramble this week.

You don't think he's stupid enough
to come back to Harlan?

Well, to answer your question,
cousin Johnny, yes, I think he is that stupid.

But one victory at a time.

Marshal.

Jed, how was the drive over? Scenic?

Seems like you guys
maybe took me the long way.

They drove me over
through Masterson Station Park.

Well, that was nice of them.
How are things at the Federal Inn?

About what you'd expect.

Yeah. Federal system's no picnic, is it?

You get less rec time.
There's no chance of getting your own cell.

Just got to hope
your roomie doesn't have IBS.

Food's about the same grade of shit
everywhere, though, so there is that.

Why am I here, Marshal?

You saw Dickie Bennett pull the trigger,
so much as said so,

then you changed your tune.
I need you to change it back.

Well, in that case,
you better just put me back in that car.

It's a pepperoni from Vitello's.
That's what your wife said, right?

You saw her?

I just spoke to her on the phone,

but she became very upset,
so it was difficult to understand her.

And you have a daughter, right?

- Claire.
- Yeah.

Yeah, she was crying, too.

All I'm asking you to do is tell the truth, Jed.

Then you can go home
and be with your family.

I got an uncle, big man.

Call him Stink.

Look, I don't know the details,
but the story goes,

some years back, Stink got involved
with Mags' cousin Gracie,

got her knocked up, decided
he didn't want anything to do with that.

Well, Gracie's brothers
didn't like that shit one bit.

They was gonna kill him.

So, Mags and my granny brokered a peace.

You're saying your family
owes some debt to the Bennetts.

Jed, there are no more Bennetts.

Just Dickie.

Yeah, what good
is that gonna do me now, huh?

We're gonna need your granny to step up
and say Mags put the screws to her.

Good luck.

I get her to say it, you'll back her play?

If she talks, I'll talk.

Now...

It's good.

Ma'am, I am Deputy US Marshal
Raylan Givens.

Now, she's getting better
at using this every day.

See, now, how it works is

she puts her fingers on the letters,
and then you write them down,

- and so that's to...
- Okay. I think we'll manage.

We're gonna talk about your grandson,
aren't we?

Well, you know she can't talk, don't you?

Yes, that's clear.

Well, she had a stroke
couple weeks back, so...

If you'll just give me a minute with her,
we'll be fine.

All right, then.

I understand Mags Bennett
called in an old debt.

Why your Jed is wasting away behind bars
and not her Dickie.

That's a milkshake.

You want a milkshake?

Two milkshakes?

They did not have vanilla, just strawberry,
but it is made with real ice cream.

How about that, huh?

Okay. Now, as I was saying,
this debt you feel like you owe the Bennetts

is no reason
for your grandson to rot in prison.

You just have to...

Oh, my...

Funny. You know, before his stay at Tramble,

I didn't think Dickie Bennett
had ever been out of Harlan County.

Surprised me, too.

All the way to Seattle.

Fella's name is Corby Bennett,
but he goes by "Dickie."

Just need a couple of days,
make sure it's not the same guy.

Plus, Chief Deputy Sturm's
a good friend of Art's.

Yeah, just trying to do him a favor.

This guy's black.

He looks black in the picture, but
you never know till you find him. Come on.

He's not Derek Jeter black.
He's Wesley Snipes black.

- This is a black man.
- Come on.

You're mixing your metaphors there,
going from athletes to actors.

Yeah. Next time,
go Derek Jeter to Sammy Sosa.

More like Deron Williams to...

Doesn't matter. This is not gonna happen.

Fine. I'm gonna give him the tour.

Raylan, please.

No, I'll go over there first thing
tomorrow morning. I'll do it myself.

When they show up to get him,
he's not there. It's no one's fault.

It happens all the time.

The answer is no. Ship has sailed.

You know what?
I bet if he had killed one of your loved ones,

you'd be trying a little harder.

Raylan, we're all on the same side here.

Now, I know you're frustrated,

but delay tactics will only dismantle
all the work I've done to prevent a lawsuit.

If that happens,
all of our asses are in a sling.

Great. So, that's it, huh? He walks?

Yeah. He walks. Unless you get on the stand.

- Who can take the stand?
- You could take the stand.

Tell the judge all the things you told me.

I don't know. Maybe he goes out on a limb.

Maybe he takes your side on it.
Either that, or this little shit's gonna walk.

You know, that's not a bad idea.

What?

The victim,
a highly decorated Deputy US Marshal,

makes an impassioned plea before the judge.

Tell him Dickie Bennett tried to torture you.
Maybe the judge will see it your way.

No.

What's the matter? You've testified before.

It's never gone well.

Well, try picturing the judge in his Speedos.
That's always worked for me.

I haven't won yet. Haven't won yet.

Well, from the looks of it,
you're gonna need one either way, Shelby.

We better win.

I never handed out
so much pineapple juice in my life.

Pineapple juice?

It makes... It makes the taste
a little more tolerable.

Hello? I'm sorry. I can't hear you.

Hey, everybody, shut up!

Well, that's it? That's the official count?

Napier won.

Shit.

From what I hear, the prime spots
for the Oxy clinics are by bridges

or, of course,
any place where two hollers intersect.

What exactly is the origin of that word?
"Hollers."

It's meant to denote "hollows,"
I would imagine,

but it's not like those are actually
hollowed into the mountains, are they?

Hell if I know.

You know, Tillman, it's gonna start
to get a little crowded in here,

for the both of us, I mean.

And I've noticed that you have
an empty office down the hall

that you're using for storage.

You think you could have your shit
moved in there by the end of the week?

What?

Your shit, moved by weekend.

Just a damn minute.

I can't give you an office.
You don't work here.

Well, I'd imagine you could
find me a nice job on your staff,

non-deputized, of course.

I mean, I have to keep my eyes on things
if we are gonna make this work.

- Whoa.
- "Whoa"?

Come in.

Tillman.

- What can I do for you, Harvey?
- Harvey.

Sir.

I'm afraid it's bad news.

- What the hell's he doing here?
- Well, now, yeah, see, that's the thing.

There's a problem with the election results.

A problem?

Well, it seems

your sister, Hanna, is on my office payroll.

Now, it's minor administrative position,

but state of Kentucky's nepotism laws
being what they are,

well, it makes you
ineligible for county office, so.

Now, just a goddamn minute, Harvey.

You know I hadn't seen Hanna
since she stole from Mama.

Well, now, calm down, Tillman.
Now, I know. And I fired her.

I fired her as soon as it come down,
but law's law, so.

All right, then.
Void the election. Call a new one.

Now, but see, the problem, though, is,

according to the statute,

the runner-up now serves as sheriff,
effective immediately,

until we can hold another vote, so.

Okay. Fine. When's the new election?

Well, probably not for three months at least.

Bullshit, Harvey!

Well, now, I did not write this law, Tillman.

- And how much he and Crowder paying you?
- Now, it ain't like that.

You shaking us down for more money?
Is that what this is?

I'm personally offended by that.

- Excuse me.
- You're welcome, sir.

Now, my hands are tied.

You're a lucky man, Mr. Quarles.

You get to come all the way down here,
a place you got no right being.

You get to eat our food.

You get to drink our whiskey.

You get to look at our women

as you try to take it all for yourself.

Why, you know what you are?

You're a conquistador.

Only we are not your savages.

And now you get to leave with your life.

Well, I'm hard-pressed to remember the last
outsider in your line of work could say that.

I hope you've enjoyed your stay

and you never forget who packed your bags.

How long have you been taking those?

Mr. Quarles, maybe it is time
you leave Kentucky.

I got nowhere else to go.

It's some kid.

See what he wants.

May I help you?

- Good call.
- Yeah.

Sit down. Over there.

There's a young man with a gun
in our trailer, Wynn.

Yeah, I noticed.

- Did you do something to upset him?
- I don't even know him.

- You and me got a friend in common.
- Oh, yeah?

Brady Hughes.

Who's Brady Hughes?

Go ahead. Tell him.

You're friends with Brady?

Friends enough to know that the last person
anyone saw him with was you,

getting into a car together.

- Brady is a beautiful soul.
- I don't want to hear your bullshit.

What would you like to hear?

The truth.
I want you to admit that you killed him.

But that's not the truth.

Then where is he?

I don't know.

Yes, you do.
You killed him. And I want to hear you say it.

And then you're gonna kill me?

Say it.

- How old are you, son?
- Old enough.

Nineteen? Twenty?

I was 14 years old when I killed my first man.

I was given a choice. I could do it myself,
or they would do it for me.

You took him from me.

No. I didn't.

My father was a heroin addict.

He wasn't necessarily an evil man,

but he couldn't kick his addiction,
couldn't hold a job, either.

But to feed his addiction,
he used the resources at his disposal.

I don't care about your shit!

Luckily for my father,
he had a very pretty little boy.

And plenty of men were willing
to pay for my company. What is your name?

Donovan.

That's what it was like for me, Donovan.

For many years.

And then one day, a man named Theo
realized what was happening.

You see, Theo believed deeply in family.

And one afternoon, an associate of Theo's
picked me up from school,

and we took a ride in his Cadillac
to a warehouse.

Theo ushered me in,
where inside, on his knees, was my father.

I was 14 years old.

And I remember how it felt
to suddenly be free.

You see, Donovan,
I understood your friend Brady.

I knew him without really knowing him.
Do you understand?

Then why'd you hurt him?

Hurt him?

No, son. I never hurt him.

I did everything I could to help him.

And then I set him free.

I set him free.

So, did you screw up or something?

No. Actually, this time, I did everything right.

So, what's the problem?

Were you not listening when I said
the part about the murderer going free?

Watch your tone, trouble.

You know what I think the problem is?

You have performance anxiety.

I can assure you, Lindsey, I do not.

Although, I will admit, public speaking
is not my favorite part of this job.

You need to buck up, sadness.

You are sounding like
a glass-half-empty kind of guy.

Right now I'm
a glass-completely-empty kind of guy.

You know what I think?

I think you ought to let me help you.

Help me make my statement?

What do you got so far?

"I am Deputy US Marshal Raylan Givens."

- That's a strong opening. What's next?
- That's it.

The rest is bullshit.

I mean, the whole thing is bullshit.

Getting up, talking.
Telling folks shit they already know.

Trying to say it in a way
that gives them permission

to make a decision
they should've made already.

You're not much of a bullshitter, huh?

I'd like to think not.

I used to have that same problem.

I got to the age
where all my friends were getting married,

and seems like I had to give a different toast
at a different wedding every weekend.

Marriages I knew
weren't gonna last more than a month.

I would get a migraine
until the moment I stood up.

Did you know
this is not a very encouraging story thus far?

I know. What I figured out was,

don't bullshit.

I mean, sure, they would give me nasty looks

when I stood up and didn't say the
same old shit that everybody wanted to hear.

I would get the stink eye
even after I sat down,

but it stopped the migraines,
and I could respect myself in the morning.

You know what I think?

I think you should give my statement.

See, I thought they'd probably
rather hear it from

somebody who's actually
in law enforcement.

Yeah, well, I can fix that.
I could deputize you.

Shut up. You can do that?

I sure can. If you'd like me to.

And I could arrest people, carry a gun?

Well, probably start you off with handcuffs,
more basic activities.

Well, shit. I'm ready. Let's do it.

- Right now?
- Right here.

You don't think we should wait
for these people to leave?

Well, I feel like if we wait for that,
you'll be face down on the bar

and no good to me at all.

I might surprise you.

- You know those two?
- Yeah, I do.

One looks like an albino deer.

He's been in here before, right?

Yeah, he has.

Knock yourself out. I'll be back.

Hi.

Bourbon, please. Neat.
Duffy, how do you take yours?

- I'm sorry. We are closed.
- Sure doesn't look closed.

- Yeah, well, we are. We're closed.
- That's right. He's the bouncer now.

Wynn, take him out of here.

I voiced my concerns,
and they fell on deaf ears.

You got two minutes.

Marshal, aren't you gonna ask me
what I want?

I don't think I will, no.

There was an election today
in Harlan County.

And your man Boyd Crowder
pulled a fast one on me.

He slipped that hillbilly rug
right out from under my feet.

I'm just gonna file that under,
"Who gives a shit?"

Well, now, usually, I'd be in a position
to handle something like that

because that's what I do.

But then I got to thinking

I'd still have to worry
about incurring your wrath.

I'm sorry. My wrath?

You don't need to worry about that.
You guys can take each other out.

- And your father?
- Sure. Him, too.

Take them both out.

And that's why you are
the way you are, Raylan.

'Cause your daddy's a criminal.

That's it. Your two minutes are up.

I understand you've been snooping around
about my friend Brady Hughes.

Brady Hughes?
Who's that? That the street kid you killed?

Gentlemen, everything okay?

Everything's okay.
Just stay behind the bar, will you?

You know, I decided upon
something tonight, there, Jim Bob.

- Did you?
- I did.

But I wanted to come down here
and tell it to you myself,

right out of the horse's mouth.

Sure that wasn't necessary.

I'm gonna kill you, Raylan.

Maybe not tonight, maybe not tomorrow,

but some day
you'll be walking down the street,

and I'm gonna put a bullet
right in the back of your skull,

and you're gonna drop.

US Marshal. I want everybody
out of the building right now.

Get your stuff and get out.

Why wait?

Okay. You had your fun. Let's go.

I'm not going anywhere. Neither are you.

So, how long you think it'll take
before the cops get here?

They may not even come.
I did show my badge.

And how do we do this?

You draw. I put you down.

- What are you doing?
- Shut your goddamn mouth.

Marshal, it seems like
I'm a little outnumbered in this situation.

I want you and your friend out of here.

Lindsey, I want you to put that gun down.

Raylan, don't talk to me like I'm a waitress.
This is my bar and I want them out.

She just sassed you, son.

You think I can't paint that wall with you
from here, you are sorely mistaken.

So if I pull on your gal there...

No, don't do that.
I'm really starting to like her.

Don't forget what I said, Marshal.

Night-night.

Ma'am.

Well, now what?

You know, you're welcome to stay
if you want.

That's sweet of you to offer,
but you got a lot going on.

You got that statement to write,

baby on the way.

You got a sonogram picture
taped to your bathroom mirror.

I'm sorry.

I'm not married,
if that's what you're wondering.

- She kicked you out?
- Why would you say that?

You just moved in above a college bar.

You got men trying to kill you.

It's complicated.

I mean, no, it's not. Yes, she left me.

Does that happen often?

Women leaving me?

No, men coming in bars, trying to kill you.

One of the hazards of being a marshal,
I guess.

Sure it's not just one of the hazards
of being you?

Is this all part of the pep talk again?

- How is that speech going?
- It's pretty good.

"I'm Raylan Givens.
I've been a marshal 19 years.

"Currently, I'm based
out of the Lexington office."

There's gonna be more. I'm gonna work on it.

Later.

- Cowboy junkies.
- Yeah, I've heard of them.

Hey, there he is.

Oh, no. Now what?

Am I about to be sentenced
to be Dickie's manservant?

No, I got a good feeling about today.

And it's just a feeling
'cause no one actually spoke to the judge.

- Hell, no. That'd be collusion.
- Right.

But I got a feeling if you give your testimony
and it's in English,

that Judge Reardon's gonna be inclined
to keep Dickie Bennett behind bars.

Great.

- You worked on your testimony, right?
- Yeah.

Make some grown men cry.

Your Honor, what I'm saying is, I just...

I do not want my fellow prisoners to have to
go through what I went through, you see?

'Cause these gentlemen,
they ain't just convicts to me.

They are my family, okay?

They're my new family. You understand?

So, what I'm trying to say is,
I've changed, Your Honor. I've changed.

I mean, my new family has changed me.

I have dedicated my life
to make sure this kind of

Abu Ghraiby bullshit don't happen again
up inside here.

Okay, I think we get the point, Mr. Bennett.

So, I've changed. Believe me.

You've changed.
Thank you for saying it one more time.

Amen.

Take a seat, Mr. Bennett.

Now, before I make my ruling,

the victim of the very transgression
that landed Mr. Bennett in Tramble

has asked to make a statement,

and I see no reason
to deny him that opportunity.

Marshal.

Can I just make my statement
from here, Your Honor?

I am Deputy US Marshal Raylan Givens.

I've been a marshal for 19 years.

I'm currently assigned
to the Lexington office.

I am here today
on behalf of the Marshals Service

because we feel strongly

that Dickie Bennett is not worthy of
the pardon being considered by this court.

I'm not gonna talk about his entire rap sheet.

It's so extensive, I think it'd be just
a waste of the court's time.

And I won't talk about his family, either.

I can only tell you that
none of them are here today

because they have all been
killed in the commission of crimes

or otherwise incarcerated.

I'll just talk about the incident
that led Dickie to his current stay in prison

and that which caused me

great pain and suffering.

I mean, all things considered, I'm fine.

And, quite honestly, this might be
a waste of the court's time, as well.

We all know what's gonna happen
if we release Dickie Bennett.

More blood's gonna be spilled.

If not his, someone else's.

He's a thug

who is trying to convince us he's a victim.

A victim of a flaw in the system.

Well, I think he's a flaw in the system.

But then again,
what the hell do I know, right?

I just mostly chase fugitives.

And I enjoy it. So...

What the hell? Let him out.

Release him back into the wild.
He's just gonna screw up again,

and when he does,
law enforcement will be there,

and we'll just haul his ass
right back to prison.

Assuming he's not killed in the process.

Thank you, Your Honor.

Did that go the way you rehearsed it?

You got anything more to add, Counselor?

In that case, I have no choice
but to grant Dickie Bennett early release

based on the terms and conditions
of the deal set forth today.

Mr. Bennett, once the paperwork
is processed, you're a free man.

Yes... I'm...

Session is adjourned.

Amen.

- Really?
- Yeah.

Figured this way, it would just
save the taxpayers a lawsuit,

and maybe Dickie leads us
to that Bennett money.

Win-win.

Next time you tell me you're not
good at something, I'm gonna believe you.

- You know when he's getting out?
- Next day or two, from what I understand.

That damn Dickie Bennett.

Released to be a thorn in my side yet again.

That is one lucky, squirrelly,
little son of a bitch.

You know, they used to call this
hog-killing weather.

Back before refrigeration,
you could not kill a pig in the summertime.

No, that meat wouldn't last you long enough
to be worth your while.

Yep, sweet spot is late autumn,
just before the cold sets in.

Nearly impossible to butcher that meat
when it freezes up on you.

If Dickie sniffs around long enough,

he's gonna figure out
where his mama's money's at.

And with that much cheddar on the table,

plenty of people
gonna be willing to help him go after it.

Now, you want,
we put Bernard on the bridge.

Ain't nobody gonna miss Dickie Bennett.

You think people who buy their meat
in cellophane packages got any idea

what it's like to see an animal born,
raised up and selected to be killed?

I imagine most people
try not to think about that.

When he shows up, you bring him to me.

What if he don't like what you have to say?

- Roger.
- Yes, Mr. Limehouse.

- That one.
- Yes, sir.

People will conspire to keep you down.

You will reach for the edge, and they will
lean the heel of their boots on your fingers,

and you just keep fighting
and scratching and pulling,

and just when you think
you've reached the top of the mountain,

they changed the rules.

And then you have to start
from the beginning, so what do you do?

I know what you don't do.

You don't quit. You don't run.

You don't stick that gun
in the back of your throat.

You realize that you were wrong.

You were wrong in thinking
that you had already won.

You claw your way back into the fight.

True victory is when
you crush your opponent so completely

that he realizes that he was wrong
in opposing you from the beginning.

And you stand on the top of the mountain.