Mayans M.C. (2018–…): Season 2, Episode 1 - Xbalanque - full transcript

The Reyes family is divided and the M.C. uncovers an internal leak.

- Last season on
"Mayans M.C."...

- He ever talk to you
about Mom or any of that?

- Mom! Mom!

[siren wails]

[echoing]
- Drop it! Drop it!

- [coughing]
- Hold it right there!

- Get down on your knees!

- You killed a cop,
and it was a gift.

- What I signed up for was
fitting you into la Galindo.

The day the DEA has
enough to move on that cartel

is the day that I walk away.



[both grunt]

- You lied to me!

My own baby brother
fucking betrayed me!

[car engine rumbles]

- My real name
is Ignacio Cortina.

My partner and I, we
did some very bad things.

With some very bad people.

- Pop.

- The U.S. Attorney's Office

coerced me into
the same type of deal

they made my father
sign nearly ten years ago.

- Here's the deal:
we reinstate balance.

We'll also supply
manpower and weapons

to crush Los Olvidados.



- What the U.S. and
Mexican authorities don't know

is that someone else
offered me a deal.

- Please sit.

- My organization is no longer
at odds with Los Olvidados.

- Galindo will continue
doing business with them,

keep it looking real.

- And Sam Crow
can supply the cartel.

- Through us.
Feds'll have no idea.

- Primo, need to talk to you.

Galindo and I
discussed a lot of things

on the way back last night.

- Marcus...
[speaking Spanish]

- Thank you.

- I come here with
an opportunity.

You help with this, and
you will be free and clear.

- We'll do whatever
this thing for Potter is,

put it behind us.

- You tell Bishop you're done,

hand in your cut, and you leave.

- Fre...
- Oh, no!

[gunshot] Ugh!

[metal clatters]

- Execute command 9-2-9.

[computer chirping]

- That's it?
- That's it.

- My brother talked to you.
- Yeah.

Your brother asked
me to sponsor him.

Said the family shit was
fucking with both of you.

- We had a deal, and
you're gonna fucking do it.

- No. This shit,
this shit I've earned.

[gunshots]
- Drop it! Drop it!

[paint can rattling]

[spray paint whooshing]

- [speaking Spanish]

Vámonos.
- Vámonos!

[motorcycle engine rumbling]

[light rock music]

[laughter]

[siren blaring]

- [singing in Spanish]

♪ ♪

[chickens clucking]

[thudding]

♪ ♪

[all speaking Spanish]

- Lighten up, Boy Scout.

Ain't no fun if
it can't kill you.

- [scoffs]

- [chuckles]

[sighs]

[knock on door]

- [speaks Spanish]

[door squeaks and groans]

- Vamos, vamos.

[doorbell buzzing]

[doorbell buzzing]

[both shouting in Spanish]

[dramatic musical sting]

- Angel, no!

- EZ?

Let's go.

[indistinct chatter]

[murmuring indistinctly]

- How was the trip?
- It was good.

- Good.

- [murmurs]
- Hey.

♪ ♪

- These are the last of them.

Contractor just
walked me through it.

- [sighs] Jesus.

Why so many change orders?

- We didn't know how much
of the plumbing was destroyed.

Fire ruined all of
it. Had to be gutted.

All new copper.
- [sighs]

- Like a phoenix.

- Creating a mythical
bird probably be cheaper.

- I'll get these to
the business office.

- Mm.

- Are you late?

- More than likely.

- Mexico?

- Not sure.

- Can you let me know, please?

- Yes.

You'll check on Mom?
- Mm-hmm.

[both speaking Spanish]

- Who took the bad shots?

- Three white dudes, same block,

State Prison Tucson,
only one affiliated.

- We pulled the product.

It was stepped on a
lot: fentanyl, speed.

Whatever killed those
junkies came from us.

- 80% of the heroin
Galindo's pushing

from this rebel shadow place

feeding this new
Arizona pipeline.

We lose it, it fucks
up everything.

That can't happen.

- Ah.

- Give us the room.

[distant music plays]

Internal shit like this,

wish Alvarez was
still in this seat.

- [chuckles]

- I'm sure he'd
weigh in if we asked.

- It's not his problem anymore.
- No, it's not.

It's ours now, so
let's not fuck it up.

Tucson, Sahuarita, and
Tempe, we make the drops,

see who turns blue.

- Agreed.
- Agreed.

[gavel bangs]

- Reach out to the school.

Have the prospect do his thing.

- Yeah.

We hear from Angel?
- Yeah.

They already set
up the generators,

and now they're
handing out supplies.

Saint's on her way.

- Good.

Another village
that's got a shot.

- I think Angel's getting off on
his own Mother Teresa thing.

- [chuckles softly]

- Put EZ on the
next Adelita relief run.

- Angel will shut that down.

- Angel doesn't fucking decide.

The only way these Reyes
brothers work out this beef

is in each other's face.

Make 'em run together.

- Yeah.

[cell phone buzzes]

- Alvarez.

- I'll call Coco.

[cell phone rings]

- Yeah.

- Let the prospect do his thing.

- He knows.
- Good.

- Three kings make
a decision yet?

- Yeah, they just finished up.

Coco.

- Tell him we
heard from Alvarez.

Hobart's running with
the intel on the LO.

Have him pick us
up, sewer hatch.

- You want me with?
- No.

Need you to help Ramos
and Contry set up the AZ play.

- I just talked to Bishop.

He wants you and the prospect

to pick him up in the Bronco.

- Cool.

[phone beeps]

- You and Creep
stay on the transport.

Let me know
when it's in the air.

- Heading there now.

[gentle acoustic guitar music]

- [speaking Spanish]

[baby cries]

[rooster crows]

- Gracias. Sí.

- Gracias.

- Damn, haven't seen this
kind of poor and wretched

since Afghanistan, bro.

- Well, brother,

you've never been to Fresno.

- Yeah.

[indistinct chatter]

- That the Saint?
- Yeah.

- Hey, I know I'm
the real Mexican,

but on this side, it doesn't
mean I do all the work.

Come on.

- Yeah. [laughs]

[intriguing music]

♪ ♪

- As soon as Potter's
mercs kick down that door,

we follow fast,
destroy any data,

find a place to plant this shit.

- They gotta think
they just slaughtered

a rebel command post.

- Who will they be slaughtering?

- Human traffickers, scumbags.

[dramatic music]

♪ ♪

- These the guys Potter hired?

- Hobart's ex-Green Beret.

Most of these guys
were in his unit.

- Stone fuckin' killers.

- Every T.O.D. is a C.O.D.

[dramatic music]

♪ ♪

- Those your guys?

- Partners, M.C.
from Santo Padre.

A lot of them are ex-military.

Primo.

- Gentlemen.

All right, intel
puts the rebel HQ

at the blue building,
northeast corner, first floor.

Looks like nine, ten targets.

We'll breach the front.

The rest of you
guys cover the exits.

- Riz, go with.

Watch your six, huh?

- Locals?

- La policía knows we're here.

They'll stay clear.

We got a guy working recon

checking the high rocks
for scopes or spotters.

Time to shut down Los Olvidados.

Gear up. Let's go.

[tense music]

♪ ♪

[rooster crows]

[dog whines]

♪ ♪

- Move in!

[indistinct shouting]

[gunfire]

[both shout]

[gunshots]

[gunshots continue]

- [groans]

[dramatic music]

♪ ♪

- [gasping and moaning]

[gunshot]

- [screams] [gunshots]

♪ ♪

[gunshots]

[electricity zapping]

- We got two runners.

[gunfire]

[shouting]

[gunfire]

- Oh, shit.

[shouting]

[gunfire continues]

- Ugh!

[bullets pinging]

[ominous music]

♪ ♪

[tense music]

[dog whining]

- [breathing heavily]

[dog barking]

[ominous music]

♪ ♪

- Kitchen's clear.

♪ ♪

- Bedroom's clear.

- Second bedroom's clear.

- All clear.

- Pull any tech, anything
that might be intel.

Go.
- Copy.

- You recognize any of 'em?

- Yeah.

Looks like Pablo.

Might be Adelita's second.

- There's more outside.

No one got away.

- Got these off the
guys we dropped.

- Good work, gentlemen.

- Won't get much
info out of these.

- Hobart, these'll
help, hard drives.

Found them in the bread box.

- Found some LO
propaganda, bedroom dresser.

- We'll let Potter know.

This might be the deathblow
to your rebel problem.

- This is recon.
Spot a little bird.

- Go.

- It's Mini.

It all went down.

[both speaking Spanish]

Hola?

Mini?

Hola?

Mini? [phone beeps]

[melancholy guitar music]

♪ ♪

[dramatic music]

♪ ♪

- ♪ Mother of exiles ♪

♪ The torch of hope ♪

♪ In the toss of the tempest ♪

♪ Threw us Madison's rope ♪

♪ But the brazen giant ♪

♪ With limbs astride ♪

♪ Blocks the golden door ♪

♪ To the U.S. of Lies ♪

♪ Damn your huddled masses ♪

♪ Scrub our floors ♪

♪ Cut our grasses ♪

♪ I am a wolf ♪

♪ A wild cur ♪

♪ Cut from the pack ♪

♪ With blood on my fur ♪

♪ Every howl ♪

♪ Marks a debt ♪

♪ 'Cause a beaten dog ♪

♪ ♪

♪ Never forgets ♪

♪ Every howl ♪

♪ Marks the debt ♪

♪ 'Cause a beaten dog ♪

♪ Never forgets ♪

♪ Never forgets ♪

[pounds on door]

- Coming in!
- Come in.

[door rattles]

- Found Delgado.

- Who's this?
- Our little bird.

- She was watching from
the rocks on a sat phone.

Gotta be a scout.

- She's just a kid.

- Kid with a KG-9 in her bag.

- Tie her up. See
what she knows.

- Soldier. Remember,
she's not a kid.

She's a killer.

♪ ♪

[Spanish chatter on radio]

[door slams]

[upbeat Latin
music plays quietly]

♪ ♪

- Not many butcher shops
with a classic literature section

in case I want a little
Márquez with my...

My ribeye.

- I know who you are.

- Obviously, a meat-eater.

Of course you know who I am.

I wouldn't expect anything less

from a man with your experience.

- This about my son?

- Actually, it's
about you, Ignacio...

And your days as an inspector
in La División Entre Torres.

I have so many questions.

I... I...

I truly hope that Ezekiel gets
his eidetic memory from you.

[bell on door jingles]

- Heard from our team.

- Hmm.

- I look forward
to our reminiscing.

[bell on door jingles]

[indistinct chatter]

- What the hell was
the kid doing here?

- LO rebels have been keeping
tabs on the human traffickers

waiting for the right time.

- Kids are always
the best scouts.

A place like this,
they're fucking invisible.

- They're gonna fuck her up.

- Let's move.

- She could tell 'em everything.

[car engine rumbling]

- We gotta do something.

- It's not that simple, Primo.

These mercs report
directly to the DOJ.

- It is simple.

They're gonna
torture a little girl.

[mysterious guitar music]

- Sorry, brother, my
guy lost his cell phone.

Mind if we take a look?

- I didn't see
anything, but go ahead.

♪ ♪

- You have any kids?

- No phone in here, man.

- Damn, how'd
you miss this shit?

- Y'all need to get
the fuck outta here.

- [muffled whimpering]

♪ ♪

- [sighs] What?

[gunshot]

- [muffled yelling]

[meaty thud]

[gurgling]

- The fuck?

[both grunting]

- [groans] Fucker.

[muffled groaning]

[blows landing]

- [gurgling and screaming]

[muffled screaming]

[gasping]

[sputters]

- [breathing heavily]

- [muffled crying]

- [groans]

[gentle acoustic guitar music]

♪ ♪

- ♪ All the way
down I was hoping ♪

- Yay!
- [laughs]

[speaking Spanish]

- ♪ All the way
down I could see ♪

♪ ♪

- How's our boy?
- He's happy today.

Thank you.

Will Miguel be home
for dinner tonight?

- I don't think so.

- He's been away so much lately.

The boy should have his father.

- Cristobal's fine, Dita.

- [babbles]
- How you doing, my love?

- [laughs]
- What are you playing with?

- [speaking Spanish]

- No other territories are
showing rebel activity?

Nothing near the riots,
the farm belt strikes?

- No, our satellites and drones

forced most of the cells
out of the open desert.

And after today,

we've wiped out
three encampments,

a dozen weapon caches,
six communication hubs,

pretty much shut down the
entire propaganda machine.

- And what of our mother-to-be?

- Other than that
security camera footage

a few months ago,
Adelita is still off the grid.

Guess getting knocked
up has shifted her priorities.

- Perhaps.

Keep Hobart on the dime
for another month or so.

Let's be certain Los
Olvidados are indeed olvidados.

- What's wrong?

- Are those real fingernails?

- Yeah, it's a French tip.

It keeps me from biting them.

- Oh, functional beauty.

Alas, my alpha-keratin
is a bit diminished as well.

Bad habit, nail-biting.

- Yep.

- At least my nocturnal enuresis

is no longer a problem.

I was a bed wetter.

- Glad that cleared up.

- Small victories.

- Killing these mercs.

- How fucked are we?

- Very fucked.

- Fuck.

- You okay, mi'jo?

- Yeah.

- I owe you one, Ezekiel.

- Just do what I
had to do, el padrino.

- I thought maybe you did it

'cause you didn't
want to see me dead.

- That too.

- Good.

That makes me happy.

- [chuckles]

- Four dozen.

- 4 times 12 is 48.

- Yeah, thanks, Rain Man.

[all chuckle]

- You're most welcome.

- We miss you, Chucky.

- Can I ask a question, Hap?

- You got to talk to Chibs.

- Not about the bet.

I thought Jax wanted you
guys out of the gun business.

- Transition's taking
longer than we thought.

It's a lot at stake.

[car engine rumbling]

[foreboding music]

- EZ around?
- No.

- Angel?
- No one's here.

I'm not sure when
they're back, sorry.

- All right, tell EZ I
need to talk to him

and stay off his cell phone.

- Yeah, okay.

♪ ♪

[car door slams]

[car engine turns over]

- Who's the old man?

- Felipe?

Oh, EZ and Angel's pop.

- His sons are Mayans?
- Yeah.

Why?

- Got a long drive ahead of us.

Let's go.

- Something wrong, Hap?

- Shut up.
- All right.

[upbeat music playing]

♪ ♪

- How did it all go?

Okay.

- Table.

[indistinct chatter]

[cell phone buzzing]

- Hey.

[gentle music playing]

♪ ♪

- The numbers don't
add up differently

the more you look at them.

- Just pulling some of
the infrastructure costs.

Martin is bringing over

his public utility
guy this afternoon.

It's just so many
variables with the wildfires.

- You know...
[clears throat]

You're allowed to enjoy this.

- I'll enjoy it tomorrow after
it's submitted and approved.

- Mm.

This was all you.

- That's ridiculous.
- [chuckles]

You know, I married
you for your brains, right?

It's so sexy.

- Just make sure
sexy is home by 4:00.

You have to take
her to Dr. Cayman.

I've got Martin. You promised.

- I know.

I will.

- She's getting worse.

- We don't know that.

- You're not with
her as much as I am.

I love her, Miguel,

but she makes me
so fucking anxious.

- We'll figure it out, querida.

- Mm-hmm.

- Mr. Alvarez is here.

- [clears throat]

- My cousin's a
trooper in Alameda.

Pulled anything
the state had on him.

- Thank you, Franky.

- You wanna give me a clue yet?

- Just curiosity.

- A Google search is curious.

Having me run background checks,

pull local and state records?

That's something else.

- I know it's a lot,

but I wouldn't
ask if this wasn't...

- I know, a family thing.

Don't make me part of
something I'm gonna regret, EZ.

- I promise.

If it lands on you,
nothing happens here.

- Stay safe, dirtbag.

- You too, pig.

[distant train horn sounds]

[mysterious
acoustic guitar music]

♪ ♪

[knock on door]

- Sorry.

- Bad time?
- No.

What's going on?

- Potter came by
the shop last night.

- Why?

- Didn't say,

just made a comment
on needing information.

Shit from my past.

Probably just fucking with me.

- Nothing Potter does is random.

It means something.

- As long as he
doesn't hurt you.

You've never asked anything
about what was in the lockbox.

Ignacio Cortina.

I know you saw it.

- It was on you to bring up.

- Yeah, I will,

when it makes sense to hear it.

Angel?

- He doesn't know anything.

- Mm.

- They reached out at all?

- Not a word.

Almost eight months.

Things any better around here?

- He deals with
me what he has to.

Club stuff.

- Club stuff give you that?

- [quietly] Yeah.

- You wanna talk about it?

- When it makes sense to hear.

- You think this merc
fuck-up can blow back on us?

- Padre still thinks he
has Galindo by the balls.

Doesn't know about
our deal with the LO.

Makes no sense for the
cartel to off the mercs.

- So best-case scenario,

this all comes crashing
down on Adelita?

- It's a possibility.

- How the fuck
they find the kid?

Why wasn't someone
watching the recon?

What the fuck
was the prospect...

- EZ was where I told him to be.

- He saved el padrino
from taking a bullet, carnan.

- Course he did.

[speaking Spanish]

- We're all set with
the AZ chapters:

Tempe, Tucson, Sahuarita.

They'll be down this afternoon.

- Pulling the prison drops?
- Yeah.

- Yuma's handling it.

- And the problem,

if it ends up being
an internal one?

- It falls on the charter.

They decide how it goes away.

[gavel bangs]

[chairs scraping]

- Biggs,

Jonas,

and Delgado.

Dead.

Three of my best men.

- And the kid was gone?

- Yeah.

- That's a very
dangerous 12-year-old kid.

- You think this shit is funny?

- No, I think the child is
the reason they're dead.

Mm.

- The rebels?

- Well,

I can't imagine it was locals.

- These were seasoned
warriors, Mr. Potter.

Whoever did this was
trained and had a plan.

- You think the kid was a trap?

- Split up our unit.

It's what I would have done.

- Why now?

Rebels have been
pushed back for months.

Hard drives you
brought confirm it.

No movement in other cells.

No active recruitment.

They're dead.

- And perhaps
waiting to be reborn.

How far along would
you say she is here?

- I don't know, five
months, maybe more.

- Perhaps her water has broken

and el bebé is now safely
swaddled in a Mexican manger.

- And Mama's making
up for lost time?

- Or a nasty case of postpartum.

- I want that bitch,

and I don't give a shit if
it's on your dime or mine.

- Let's facilitate the
major's hate, agent.

It is the American way.

[tense music]

- [speaking Spanish]

[speaking Spanish]

[rooster crows]

[grunts]

[sighs]

- No.

[cat purring]

♪ ♪

[speaking Spanish]

[hard rock music playing]

♪ ♪

- What's up?

- Brother.

- Good to see you, brother.

[overlapping chatter]

- Hey, ese, you're the one
with the memory shit, right?

- I guess so.

[hard rock music continues]

♪ ♪

Just talked to Pop.

Potter was in the
shop last night.

- Maybe he wanted a good steak.

- Show up like that,
can't be anything good.

- Then it's the old
man's problem.

- That we fucking created.
- No.

That you fucking created.

- Hey, come on, Angel.

[door slams]

- No.

♪ ♪

[door slams]
- Need anything else?

- Think we're good, Chucky.

- We know anything
else about this beef?

Starting to feel like
their fucking mother.

- Man, Angel says it's
old shit, family wounds.

- Family or not, been going
on way too fucking long.

It's bleeding all
over the table.

[chuckles]

- We're back.

[hard rock music swells]

[overlapping chatter]

- Under the building inspection,

but, actually, I've added
it as an extra fee already.

- Okay.

- Excuse me.

We should leave soon.

- No, I'm not taking
you today, Dita.

- Why not?

- Sorry. I'll be right back.

Miguel, he's taking
you to Dr. Cayman,

and he should be
here any minute,

so why don't you just sit down?

- Why is Miguel taking me?

I'm sure he has more
important things to do.

- So do I.

- Oh, yes, of course.

You go back to your meeting.

And I'll be in the
car with Nestor.

Hope we don't miss
the appointment.

I think I might
be getting worse.

[somber guitar music]

[door clicks]

♪ ♪

[keypad clicking]

[line trilling]

[cell phone buzzing]

- Your call is
being forwarded...

[rooster crows]

[rooster crows]

[rock music playing]

[guns thump]

- Want to tell us why
the shot callers are here?

- Yeah, we thought
this was about

picking up guns and
making a progress report.

- It'll all make sense.

- Weapons, gentlemen.

♪ ♪

- We've hit an ugly bump in
our Arizona prison pipeline.

[bricks thud]

That's why you're all here.

- And it's the
reason we're here.

- Tempe, Sahuarita, and
Tucson, the heroin that you sent

to your respective
prison drops this morning,

my charter pulled
before they got there.

- The fuck for?

- One of your last
shipments was cut so deep,

three inmates OD'd.

I don't have to tell you what
that does to our business.

It can't happen again.

- You putting this
shit on one of us?

- No, carnan, we just need

to take that
possibility off the table.

- Get the prospect.

- Yeah.

[indistinct whispering]

[dramatic musical sting]

- Charter ID's in
a different place.

- Huh.

Tucson.
- This is bullshit.

- If this stays
clear, it's pure.

It turns blue, it's been cut.

- [whispers] Shit.

- What the fuck?

- You do the pickup
from the airdrop?

- You think it was me?

- You're the only one who
was alone with the package.

- This is crazy.

- Is it?

- Answer him.

- There's stupid,

and there's really
fuckin' stupid.

[speaking Spanish]

- Sorry, brothers.

We had no idea.

[tense music]

♪ ♪

- We know that.

- You'll handle the problem.

- Yeah.

- Do it before you leave.

♪ ♪

- I'm gonna head
out, if it's cool.

- Sit down.

[gentle guitar music]

- [sighs]

- This shit with you and Angel,

haven't pressed it.

Knew it was blood.

Figured it would correct itself.

- It hasn't.

- Your patch vote is coming up.

Judging by the vibe I get,

we don't have a unanimous table.

- Angel said he'd vote no.

- He don't say shit.

Neither do you.

That's the problem.

- It's gone on too long.

I don't care how you do
it. Work it the fuck out now.

♪ ♪

- Yeah.

Okay.

♪ ♪

♪ Señor ♪

♪ Señor ♪

♪ Can you tell me
where we're headin' ♪

♪ Lincoln County
Road or Armageddon ♪

♪ Seems like I been
down this way before ♪

♪ ♪

♪ Is there any
truth in that, señor ♪

♪ ♪

♪ Señor ♪

♪ ♪

♪ Señor ♪

♪ Do you know
where she's hidin' ♪

- [muffled whimpering]

♪ How long we gonna be riding ♪

♪ How long must I keep
my eyes glued to the door ♪

- [muffled pleading]

♪ Will there be any
comfort there, señor ♪

- [muffled screaming]

[grunts]

♪ There's a wicked wind still
blowing on that upper deck ♪

- [moans]

♪ There's an iron cross
still hanging down ♪

♪ From around her neck ♪

♪ There's a marching
band still playing ♪

♪ In that vacant lot ♪

♪ ♪

♪ Where's she held me in
her arms one time and said ♪

♪ "Forget me not" ♪

♪ ♪

- Listen, I am so
sorry about today.

- Where were you?

- There were some complications,

the rebels.

I was on the other side.

- You were with Adelita.

- Yes.
- This whole time?

- Alvarez and me.

♪ ♪

- You should get some sleep.

You look exhausted.

- Yeah, I am.

- Okay.

♪ ♪

- Has she told you
who the father is yet?

Adelita.

- No.

I don't think she's told anyone.

♪ ♪

♪ Señor ♪

♪ ♪

♪ Señor ♪

♪ ♪

♪ I can see that painted wagon ♪

♪ Smell the tail of the dragon ♪

♪ I can't stand the
suspense here anymore ♪

♪ ♪

♪ Can you tell me who
to contact here, señor ♪

♪ ♪

♪ Well, the last
thing I remember ♪

♪ Before I stripped
and kneeled ♪

♪ ♪

♪ Was that trainload of fools ♪

♪ Bogged down in
a magnetic field ♪

- Mom!
- All right, come on.

[indistinct chatter]

- Mom! Angel!

- Boys.

No dessert if you're
fighting, okay?

♪ It's the real thing ♪

♪ ♪

♪ Señor ♪

♪ ♪

♪ Señor ♪

♪ You know their hearts
is as hard as leather ♪

♪ Give me a minute,
let me get it together ♪

♪ Just gotta pick
myself up off the floor ♪

♪ ♪

♪ I'm ready when
you are, señor ♪

♪ ♪

♪ Señor ♪

♪ ♪

♪ Señor ♪

♪ ♪

[distant dog barks]

[siren wailing]

[knock on door]

[knock on door]

[knock on door]

[lock clicks]

- What are you doing here?
- We have to talk, Angel.

- There's nothing to talk about.

- Yeah, there is.

- What, your, um,
sponsor sent you here?

Worried his golden boy
didn't get the votes he needs?

- I don't give a
fuck about the vote.

- Well, if this is about Pop,
man, then stay out of it.

It's none of your
fucking business.

- It's not about Pop.

It's about Mom.
- What?

[gentle Latin music playing]

♪ ♪

I know who killed her.

[dramatic music]

♪ ♪

[baby giggles]

[typewriter
clicking, bell dings]