Orange Is the New Black (2013–…): Season 4, Episode 10 - Bunny, Skull, Bunny, Skull - full transcript

The movie night selection becomes controversial. Aleida makes an adjustment. Piper worries the prison punishments are getting too medieval.

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♪ The animals the animals ♪

♪ Trapped trapped trapped
till the cage is full ♪

♪ The cage is full the day is new ♪

♪ And everyone is waiting
waiting on you ♪

♪ And you've got time ♪

♪ Think of all the roads ♪

♪ Think of all their crossings ♪

♪ Taking steps is easy ♪

♪ Standing still is hard ♪

♪ Remember all their faces ♪

♪ Remember all their voices ♪



♪ Everything is different ♪

♪ The second time around ♪

♪ And you've got time ♪

♪ And you've got time ♪

Let's go, Diaz. It's time.

Party bus is leaving.

I left you my nail polish kit, 12 colors.

And none of them got
melted skittles mixed in.

Nails are more your thing.

So? You ain't got to do nails.

Paint little pictures
or decorate a vase or some shit.

I don't know. Aren't you supposed to be
the creative one?

All right. Thanks.

And for you,
I left all my thermals and my good hat.



You don't want to take that?

It gets cold in the Bronx, too.

It's itchy. Plus, it got bird shit on it.

Can I get someone down to processing?
Door's locked.

Seriously?

Last week, we released
this other Hispanic girl at midnight.

She didn't have a ride, so she was just
walking on the side of the road.

I guess she was trying to hitchhike.

But a towny thought she was a prostitute
and called the cops.

And?

She got picked up
brought right back to prison.

Or, jail, actually.

Started in prison, ended in jail.

You don't got another story
you could tell her today?

Shit. This is it.

Stay focused.

Buy yourself a good pair of shoes
and get to work.

You got this.

Okay.

All right. I'm not dying.

Come on. Dry it up.

Come on, come on.

This is how you want me
to remember you? Huh?

Hmm?

Shit. I got something for you.

It's back in my bunk.
Is there time to go get it?

You can put it in the mail.
Everyone likes getting mail.

I have a pen-pal in Guam.

You have an address, right?

'Course I do.

All right, bitches.

I'm out.

Mwah!

Eyes open, inmate!

This look like a bed to you?

I'm up, ogre man.

You are on this table till
you physically cannot stand.

Good.

I'm going for the world record
so I can be in that book.

Usually it's the short ones
that need to act like that Piscatella.

He's practically a building.

So you tell me what he's compensating for.

Must be a button down there.

I thought she'd buckle
after a couple hours, not two whole days.

Don't apologize.

You made a tough call.
Now we all got your back.

That's how the brotherhood works.

We can't take her down?
She pissed herself twice already.

It's a game of chicken. She'll break.

- And Caputo's cool with all this, right?
- Don't worry about Caputo.

If he wants to leave that oak desk of his
and join us here in the trenches,

he knows where to find us.

Back to it.

You got this, Flores.

Just like that poster kitten
or Jesus on the cross.

You hang in there.

Like Jesus ever went around slinging drugs
and rubbing fish sauce on himself.

And he was white.

- Wasn't he Middle Eastern?
- No.

He was just really tan.

Shit, shit.

Oh!

Oh.

Gross.

Enjoy.

I've created a monster.

You didn't create white hate.

But I gathered the haters together,

and then I angled them
towards the Dominicans.

This Flores shit is medieval,
and she's right...

they are targeting the Dominicans.

Uh, you mean the people who branded you?

Now that it's a window, I kind of like it.

It's not a window.

It's a reminder to stay out
of other people's shit.

This is not other people's shit.

This is all of our shit.

This prison is turning into some kind of
grotesque social experiment.

I'm gonna talk to Piscatella.

He likes me.

He's semi-reasonable.

Next person who hands Flores a beverage
is crawling back to her bunk!

Let this be a lesson.
Flores is not a martyr, people.

She is a regular, normal criminal.

Yeah, he's... so reasonable.

You're late.

Uh, you're welcome?

Diaz, right?

Yeah. Why?

From your kid.

Thanks.

You gonna drive or what?

Cesar says to tell you hi,
and to not act like a bitch.

Let's go. It's exercise time.

Sophia.

Sophia?

It's a nervous tick.

Sophia.

Come on. Speed it up, inmate.

I'm sorry. I have plantar fasciitis.

Sister
Is that you?

Oh.

Sister.

I'm here to help.

I even have rubber bands
to put into your big hair

for when you puke.

Actually, Red, I got this.

You got this? What does that mean?

It means that, after our talk,

I took a hard look
at how pathetic my life had become

and decided to just go cold turkey.

With the help of my friends,
Advil and Imodium, of course,

and candy...

and, uh, crossword puzzles.

My... my guts and my asshole
are like raw meat.

Uh, my veins are pulsing.

But other than that, man, so far so good.

Oh, and lucky you...
you missed the puke phase,

so you can save those elastics.

What about cravings? Triggers?

This is my seventh time
getting clean intentionally,

and I find that the best way
to avoid shit is to avoid shit.

So I'm gonna go to work
and just distract myself

with good, old-fashioned manual labor.

Thank you.

It means a lot to me.

See?

Hi ho, hi ho.

So, your moms got out today.

She's probably sunbathing
on the stoop already

or having oysters at Cosenza's.

Well, for what it's worth,
I liked her, even though she's a bitch.

My dad, he's that way, too...
he sucks up all the oxygen in the room.

How do you deal with that,
the oxygen thing?

Ran away.

And I got my nipple pierced.

Mm.

I was thinking of shaving my head
or dying my hair crazy colors.

That's a better idea.
My nipple got infected.

Ooh.

Feels like the first day in prison,

or, like, before doesn't count
'cause my mom was here.

Now I'm actually alone.

You don't got to be alone.

You could come hang out
with me and my girls.

You're in the salon, right?
My mom said.

Oh, yeah.
It smells like burnt hair,

but those chairs are comfy.

Hey, Daya, you want to come over here
and help me with some bags in the fridge?

Comfy chair sounds nice.

Any available C.O.'s
to the admin building.

We could still go for oysters.

No, this is fine.

We're close to the highway,
so we'll get back faster.

Some coffee to start?

- Huh?
- Some coffee?

Uh, sure.

So, what's the first thing
you're gonna do?

Probably take a shower.

Oh. 'Cause y'all had to shower together.

No.

We had curtains and stuff.

But you're worried you got TB germs
or, like, Hep C on you?

No.

I just...

I want to take a shower,
feel like myself again.

And then, tomorrow, I'm gonna wake up
and try to see all my kids.

Walk across all five boroughs
if I have to.

I'ma tell them I'm gonna get them
the fuck out of foster care...

once I figure out how.

I heard that, in prison,
if you got big tits,

you could hide stuff under there.

Like Botox needles,
pills that don't melt too easy.

You get some kind of big-tit newsletter?

My cousin Trina got let out last month.

We took her to City Island
and then clubbing.

She kept asking for Big Red.

'Cause they don't even got gum in there.

You want to know what prison is like?

It's hard, and it smells like old farts.

But I got people in there.

I got nobody out here.

I got $40 and an old bus map.

You don't got to make this weird.

It's not weird. Why would it be weird?

Maybe 'cause we fucked the same guy,
and he put a baby in me?

You had a baby from that motherfucker?

Not on purpose.

But, yeah.

She's got his ass but, like, little.

What?! You think I'm gonna steal
your stupid-ass waffles?!

Sorry.

I just feel like I got a sign on me.

It's these stupid clothes.

Correctional officer
to "C" block for prisoner escort.

Hey.

You got any of that special shampoo?

You Nichols?

Yep. Why? We got friends?

Been told not to do business with you.

The fuck?

Just sell me some fuckin' heroin.

I was referencing
the Lou Reed hit single, obviously.

And come on.

Lookit, this isn't right.

I want to talk to the boss lady.

She's busy.

What's going on?

What, some kind of discrimination
against people with frizzy hair?

Something like that.

Man, who the fuck is blackballing me?

I don't know what poison

you and your hillbilly friends
are peddling,

but if you sell any of it to Nichols,

you will never know
what's really in your food,

and I assure you,
I can slip in untold horrors.

I'm not doing that no more.

Morello and the bug-eyed black girl
found out about the poop thing, and...

Truthfully,
I was really starting

to gross myself out,
anyway, not to get too graphic.

Yes. Spare me the details.

Well, then again,

once a businesswoman,
always a businesswoman.

So, what are you gonna give me
in return for my cooperation?

Right. She's dead to me.

Yoohoo!

Yes.

Autograph time, Mr. C.

Why does this week's menu say
"truffle cheesesteak" and "surf and turf"?

I thought I'd pimp up the words
to boost morale.

It's still slop.

- Change it back. What's next?
- Uh...

tonight's movie-night pick.

- The Wiz?
- How'd that get in there?

Isn't that the one where Diana Ross
plays a 12-year-old?

Well, Tom Hanks plays
a 12-year-old in Big.

Yeah. Well, that was part of the premise.

But, man! The costumes.

People in the '70s
were just more creative.

And not to get all political with you,

but the past 11 movies
have all been romantic comedies

starring white people.

Because the past 11 movies
came from a box of VHS tapes

that Fig pulled out of her basement.

Do we even have a copy of The Wiz?

Yeah. I found one in the library
under "ethnic."

People need positive role models
around here.

Take Dorothy, for example.

An inner-city schoolteacher

who learns how to ease on down the road!

Makes friends with lions and robots

and frees a bunch of slaves
using peaceful resistance,

i.e.

- dance!
- If you can live with the fact

that everyone's gonna blame you
when they're miserable tonight,

you can have The Wiz.

- Thank you.
- Now ease on out of here.

Yes, sir! I'm out of this bitch.

You know, I saw Humps taking her
to the guardhouse yesterday, alone.

It's too soon to be pregnant puking.

I didn't say he fucked her.

Well, why else?

Dude's weird.

Came over to my place last week,
had a couple drinks,

and this cockroach crawls out,

but instead of stepping on it,
he... put it in the blender.

He's probably fucking Ramos, though.

You boys are all teenagers.

Hey, I didn't do anything.

It's like when a dude date-rapes a girl
at a frat house.

- It's everyone's fault.
- Exactly.

'Cause we're in a brotherhood.
Even you, McCullough.

And, Humps, he's just our weirdo,
roach-liquefying kid brother.

Maybe Ramos was causing trouble, right?

Or... or Humps was having a bad day.
We don't know.

All we do know is,
we're the ones on the ground

making the tough calls every day.

I mean, it's not like we have any proof.

Yeah. He could've been making her
a sandwich for all we know.

Yeah.

I don't know about this time machine,

but in my experience,
people travel through wormholes.

I thought your book was fictional.

No.

The emotions were fictional,
but the science was real.

Well, I know where I'd wormhole back to.

My wedding day.

Oh, I would live that over and over again.

Especially the love-making part.

Oh, we were so connected for that hour.

Our skin was touching.

And our brains weren't distracted
or suspicious.

Nothing.

Did I tell you that he's been spending
time with my sister?

I... I told you that already? No?

- Mnh-mnh.
- Oh, yeah, they're friends now.

Yeah. Yeah, that's the thing, you know?

Just them,
hanging out together all the time.

Oh, my. I'm sorry. I...

What about you?
When would you go back to?

I think I'd go back
to that night outside the broom closet.

Oh.

With the ex?

Yeah. Yo.

We were supposed to do
the dance with no pants,

but
chickened out.

Oh. Well, you weren't ready.

That's okay.

Turns out, she's crazier than me.

I.

Than I.

Yeah.

I caught her once making a portrait of me
out of hair,

and I'm pretty sure it was my hair.

Like, she stole my hair.

Isn't that kind of flattering, though?

What if I missed my only chance
to get physical with another person?

You don't need a time machine for that.

That closet is right where you left it.

I forgot what my hips looked like.

You could borrow my wedges
when we get home.

Oh, I'm not staying with you.

I only wrote that for the paperwork.

Oh.

Okay.

You can't send clothes in care packages.

C.O. will send them back.

Please.

Like I would ever shop for Cesar.

So picky.

You got a brother or something?

No.

Cesar got like ten years.
I'm supposed to be a nun?

That's fucked up.

That man did good by you.

Why are you so mad?

It's not like Cesar was ever straight
with you, even before you went away.

But suddenly, you're his big defender?

Men are stupid.

And their peckers all got ADD. What?

For the record, if you hadn't gone down,
I probably wouldn't be in the picture.

I went away because I took
the heat for him,

because that's what you do
when you love somebody.

But I guess you wouldn't get that.

Hey. I love Cesar.

But I also love myself,
and I love my baby,

and it don't do me, nor her,
no damn good if my ass is in prison.

You're a fucking bitch!

A fucking bitch who borrowed a car

to come and get your ungrateful,
old-school, low self-esteem ass

from upstate and bring her to my home?

You know what?

I'm out of here.

Miss.

You got to pay for that.

Shit.

- It's a musical?
- Mm-hmm.

Yeah!

That's why I don't know it.
'Cause it's gay.

You gay now... with Judy.

Ooh.

Correction... I'm fake gay
with a beautiful human

who's making it rain for all of us.

Mnh-mnh, ain't raining in my world until
I see money in my commissary account.

Janae, it's coming.

In the meantime, feel it.

Wealth is a state of mind,

not some number in a bank account.

Money talk. Ah, it's so boring.

Mm-hmm.

Oh, you know, it's cool.
Ain't nobody looking.

Oh, no, it's not for the guards.

It's about my chocolate love.

Mm.

Oh, come on, y'all. I was just kidding.

Good lord.

All right, so,
what are we all talking about?

How Caputo did me a solid and let me pick
movie night tonight!

- No.
- I hate The Wiz. Sorry.

- Am I allowed to say that?
- Mm. It's cool.

- Me too.
- Oh, my gosh.

Come on. The beginning is so boring.

Like, when they're all eating ham,
and Diana Ross is just complaining

about how she's never been
below 125th street.

Hold up, hold up.

You're telling me
the premise of The Wiz is,

some bitch ain't never gone below
125th street?

Diana Ross, not some bitch.

- Right?
- Respect!

I mean, ain't there like
dancing subway pillars

and, like, weird,
glow-in-the-dark graffiti everywhere?

I mean,
the production values are so cheap.

Look, I'm sorry, T, I'm gonna have to side
with my girl on this.

The Wiz is kind of lame.

I like The Wiz.

See?

- Somebody's on my side.
- Mm-hmm.

What about that part when
Glinda the Good Witch

comes floating in on her magic bubble,
and her skin's all white and sparkly?

That's the white-people version...
The Wizard of Oz.

Oh.

Well, I like that one.

Damn this arthritis.

It helps if I take little steps.

Don't I get some privacy?

Got to cuff you first.

Oh. Of course.

Shackle away.

Our poop is gonna go down there?

Beats me.
Everything I know about plumbing

I learned from playing Mario Bros.

It was that black girl
who works in Caputo's office.

The terrorist one with the turban?

- No.
- Cocoa puffs?

No, no, the one with the fancy watch.

I heard her bragging about
it in the cafeteria.

First, the Dominicans take the TV room.

Now the blacks are controlling the movies.

We should host our own film festival

that celebrates the accomplishments
of white people.

But that'll be hard, though,

because Morgan Freeman's in,
like, everything.

Fuckin' Morgan Freeman.

I think I owe you an apology.

For enabling you out in the corn.

What happens in the corn
stays in the corn, right?

I can't stop thinking about it.

Oh, that's what
you can't stop thinking about?

How about Vause chop-sueying the guy?

It seems like that's
a much bigger headline

than my short fall off the wagon.

I'm trying to say I'm worried about you.

Are you, or are you attempting

to assuage some of that guilt
you've been carrying around?

Can it be both?

Look...
man...

I screwed up long before
our time in the corn, Chapman, all right?

It's not on you.

The really fucked-up thing is,
I had three years clean before that,

and now I'm back to zero, like
the whole thing never happened.

No, three years clean is something.
That's not nothing.

How do I forgive myself for doing that?

That's my million-dollar fucking question,
right?

Back it up.
You know you're not allowed to be in here.

And you're not allowed to eat soba noodles
without a little scallion.

Fresh from the garden.

Added a little ginger, too.

Thanks.

I've noticed you always bring
home-cooked lunches. Good for you.

Most of the guards eat Hot Pockets
or s'mores Pop-Tarts.

But you're a gourmet.

Yeah, I used to eat like them.

Then I started watching those cooking-
competition shows and got obsessed.

- Now I can't stomach that crap.
- Me neither.

Something else I can't stomach,

watching friends of mine
succumb to certain... temptations.

Chemical temptations.

I wouldn't know what inmates do
in private.

Of course. Neither does Piscatella.

In fact, he has no idea
about this curious cycle of redistribution

going on behind his back.

One little baggie frisked
from this inmate, resold to that inmate.

Out against the fence. Now.

- All right.
- Let's go.

All right.

Who the fuck you think you are, old lady?

Walking around here like
you own the place, threatening me.

Well, I know you can't threaten me...

at least not with the SHU.

I've been trying

to get reservations down there for weeks,
but it's all booked up.

Who told you that?

Old ladies know.

We have bad hearing,
and yet, we know all the gossip.

What is this?

- Are you looking to buy?
- No.

I don't want to buy. I want to embargo.

I was thinking.

There are certain physical experiences
on this planet

that every living person should have.

And I know I freaked out in the woods,

but real dinner is better
than fake gingerbread and wood rot.

That said, I will admit
that sometimes at night,

I do touch the inside of my arm
and the soft part of my earlobe,

and I get this... tingly feeling.

And, okay, I did suspect you
of pooping in the shower,

which is way worse than peeing outside
a bunk, for the record,

but you didn't leave me poop.

You left me gifts.

Like hair portraits.

Anyhow, I'm...
really confused about all this, but...

if you might maybe perhaps

want to try the broom-closet thing again,

I...

might...

maybe...

perhaps...

be open to it.

That's it. Okay. Bye.

I was thinking during movie night.
Okay. Bye.

Hey! I have been meaning to ask
you about your wormhole theory.

See, on paper, it's sound, right?

But in real life, that is flawed.

You might be using too much tin foil...
on the time machine.

Messes with the electromagnetic radiation.

- Next time, try wax paper.
- Oh, thanks for the tip.

Wow.

Can I have a seat?

No, you can talk to me while standing.

Okay. Well, speaking of standing, um...

I feel obligated to voice...

to voice my concern...
over some of the practices

that have been happening
around here lately.

You know, not my concern.

My outrage.

My moral outrage, to be honest with you.

Okay. Please, be honest.

This Flores thing, for example.

It is cruel and gross and humiliating.

It's like putting somebody in the stocks.

Plus, standing
for prolonged periods of time

causes irreversible joint and back pain.

Well, maybe her "noble heritage"
gives her extra-strong joints.

I get the irony of the situation.

Next, you're gonna tell me
that gangs help provide order and safety?

Look, I know what it's like to fuck up.

I know what it's like to cross a line

and then wish, retroactively,
that you hadn't.

And it's a shitty, shitty feeling.

And I wish that somebody had told me a
very long time ago

that it's okay to just stop,
to just back down...

to not be so stubborn
or worried about appearing weak.

You're right. I did mess up.

I allowed you to think you have some sort
of special privilege around here,

which you don't.

In fact, the next time you care to express
something to me,

you can write me a letter...

and then shove it up your tight,
little heinie.

Get out of my office.

Out!

And after you got the camera to Burset,
how were you gonna get the photo out?

That ten-year-old Motorola
didn't even have internet.

I have my ways.

Yeah.

Well, don't ever become a spy.

Sophia is falling apart down here.

At least I didn't stand by idly.

So if you want to punish me
for having a conscience, then fine.

I am not punishing you
for your conscience.

I am punishing you because you assaulted
another inmate,

you smuggled contraband,

and you conspired
to leak private information.

You made your bed, Sister.
Now you're gonna lie in it.

Any idea how long, exactly?

Burset!

Yep.

Oh, that is so true, yo.

My moms is in love with him.
Like, in love.

- Hey.
- Hey.

Hey, we were just talking about
how all Latinas love Morrissey.

Yeah, that's funny.

Maybe it's the hair.

Totally! The pompadour.

Wow. Oh, shit. You do nails.

My mom did.

I think I could do more like designs,
patterns,

little bunnies, things like that.

Oh, could you do mine,

but like, alternated
with like bunnies and skulls

so like every other finger's like bunny,
skull, bunny, skull?

Yeah, that should be cool.

Sorry. Should I just come back later?

You can stay.

Unless it's gonna be a problem.

Nah. It's fine.

Rodriguez to processing.

So, what do you want first,
like a bunny or a skull?

Psht. Skull, obviously.

Yo, Jazmina!

Open up! It's me!

You a ghost all of a sudden?

I had to get Cesar's baby mama
to pick me up

'cause my own damn cousin
too busy to pick up her phone?

I've been calling you for weeks.
Where the fuck you been at?

Uh-huh.

Yo, Jazmina.
What the hell you talking about?

You ain't even making any sense.

I'm just happy to see you.

You know,
we should get some of that champagne soda!

Right? Celebrate!

Yeah, no, I ain't got no time
to celebrate right now.

Where's my sock?

I already used up all the cash
they gave me.

All right, here's the thing.

My asthma been acting up.

I had to go to the ER, which wasn't cheap.

And then last month, KK got arrested.

It was some stupid D.U.I., but they took
him all the way up to Riker's

and claimed that he had, like,
all these other charges.

Bail was real expensive, you know?

We weren't expecting you
for another few more months.

You spent it.

Borrowed. I borrowed it.

You stupid, selfish cunt!

- Hey! We family.
- Yeah, we family.

That's why I gave you everything
I fucking had!

What about my clothes? My shoes?

You sell those, too?

No.

Not your shoes.

How fucking stupid can you be?

I'm getting out of prison.

You think I wouldn't need any cash?

You think I wouldn't need clothes?

I'm gonna pay you back for everything.
I swear.

Yo, if you want,
I can hook you up with Domingo.

You know, get you back on your feet.

Meantime, you know you can crash here
as long as you need.

We can share the bed,
you know, like old times.

So, when are we gonna make a move

on the water fountains
between "B" and "C" dorms?

I mean, if we wait too long,
the Dominicans are gonna grab it.

Also, we need to talk
about where to stand in the yard.

I found this spot over by the dumpsters,
but I know Sankey thinks

we should stand somewhere
with more visibility.

- Sankey is so driven.
- I know, right?

Sankey?

- She on construction?
- Yeah.

She's actually a lot like you used to be...

all in charge and stuff,
but also, really, um... charisma.

And she has amazing hair,
like, gold.

And she's, like,
the funniest person you've ever met.

Wait a minute.
Did we talk about this?

I used to collect troll dolls.

Hey, schnookums.

Looking for something?

Uh, yeah, man.

I'm looking for those letters I wrote you.

I'm hoping to recycle them
into "fuck you" origami.

Oh, you can't fool me.
Origami doesn't have words.

Hi, by the way.

Come on, man.

Just don't make this any more humiliating
than it has to be, all right?

My blood sugar's crashing.
I need some sweet relief.

I thought you were sober.

Yeah... well, things change.

Jesus Christ.

I brought you back here
like two minutes ago.

What do you mean,
you brought me back up here?

What does that mean?

You had a hand in me coming up the hill?

Uh, well, not a hand

so much as, uh, other body parts.

No comprende.

I, uh, I fucked Judy King.

The old chef lady?

It was very Harold and Maude.

Except you're 30 and broke.
Has she killed herself yet?

We are talking about Judy King,
the celebrity, right,

not some scabby,
toothless crack whore by the same name?

Celebrity chef. My lover.

And afterwards, uh,

she paid off some fancy lawyer
who called Caputo

and some other back-door politics thing
that I don't fully understand.

What'd you do that for?

You in love with me or something?

No.

- ...You could say "Thank you."
- For what?

Ruining my life then un-ruining it?

Why do you think I'm back on this shit?

Well, if I'd never gone to max,
I'd still be sober.

I wouldn't have to crawl back here
searching for crumbs.

Oh, by the way,

only a shit-for-brains, fucktard alcoholic
falls for a card-carrying lezbo.

If you want to get high so badly,

admit that it's your fault that you went
back down to max.

All right? Own your shit.

Fine.

It was my fault.

Yeah, and we'll revisit this
if you decide to ever get sober again.

Can't wait.

Please.

I didn't ask for weed.

Right. Thanks.

You're welcome.

Psst! Fuck you.

Hey. It's movie night. Let's go.

I'm gonna skip it.

I'm too bloated.

We're on the same cycle, dummy. Come on.

Why you sitting there like you got a call
from your boyfriend's wife, huh?

I can't tell you. It's too humiliating.

You pee your pants or something? What?

You know that new guard?

White dude, looks like a mailman?

Yeah, I think so.

Okay.

Yesterday,
he took me into his little house

and he gave me a cup with, um...

with, um...

What?

What did he bring you?

Did he slip you a roofie?

What? Tell me.

A mouse.

Like, from the ground?

I don't know.

It was a baby...

and it was small and slippery.

And not like a jelly bean at all, Flaca.

And when I swallowed it,
I felt its little feet,

with toes.

Oh, my God.

That's so fucked up.

That's like some Hannibal Lecter shit.

We got to tell somebody.

I don't want to have to tell nobody.

Please don't tell nobody.

God damn it.

These guards, they think they can get...

can do whatever the fuck they want.

God, I feel so gross.

No, you're okay. You're not gross.

Come here.

You probably don't even have
the plague or nothing.

I've never killed nothing in my life!

Save it for the judge!

Killed this movie. This movie sucks!

- Can you be quiet, please?
- Yeah. I heard that.

Isn't that what you do? Call and response?

It's a Christian thing.
It ain't a black thing.

You sure about that, darkie?

- Seriously.
- What?

You're ruining the film.

What she say?

I thought you didn't even like it.

Well, I love it now.

Is it okay if I stand here?

Yeah.

Yeah, of course.

Do you ever feel like a person
without a country?

All the time.

Have you seen Nicky?

We invited her, but she's not here.

Piscatella told me to shove
my moral outrage up my ass.

I thought you were gonna stay out
of other people's business.

You smell like reefer.

Who the fuck sold to her?

I, um...

do you...

or should I...

Shh.

Relax.

Oh.

Do you like that?

Yeah.

Describe it.

A gl... glowworm.

Gli... glitter dots.

Lightning bolts.

More lightning bolts.

Warm squiggles.

Are you getting close?

- Uh, to what?
- A climax.

Maybe?

Oh, shit.

Oh, shit.

Oh. Sweet troll.

I'm close.

I'm close.

I'm cl...

Why'd you stop?

So you know what it feels like

to be abandoned
in the middle of the woods.

You hurt my feelings, Suzanne.

What?

News flash... Dorothy was from Kansas,
not Harlem.

News flash...
Judy Garland was from Minnesota,

and Diana Ross was from Michigan,
so nobody is from Kansas.

It's a movie.

No one asked you, nigger-lover.

- What did you say?
- What?

What the fuck?

Yo, can you shut the fuck up?

- Hey, guys! Quiet down, please, okay?
- Shut the fuck up, honky!

Your boo.

She's not only fair-skinned,
but she's fair-weathered.

Yeah, she not my boo.

It's all for show.

It's called appropriation...

black people stealing white people's art.

I think the black girls
and the white girls are having a thing.

- No, you dumb cracker.
- Who you calling a cracker?

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Back it up, Nazi.

Or what? You'll tap-dance on over here
and beat us up?

Everyone chill out, all right?
It's a movie.

If this escalates, we're screwed.

Remember? The SHU is full.

- Whatever.
- I'm ready.

Shit.

Everybody back to your bunks.

Movie night is over.

Man!

It's for your own safety. Let's go.

Man, are you kidding me?
They didn't even meet the Wiz!

The titular character.

He's played by Richard Pryor, people!

These bald, white, racist fucking bitches
ruined it for everyone.

Hell, yeah.

Yo, no.

You think that's a job?

Like painting pictures
for scenery and stuff?

Sure, why not?

Hey. Can I talk to you?

Sure. I'll catch up with you guys later.

Honey.

You got to be careful.

Ruiz is playing a dangerous game.

- It's fine. She's my roommate.
- Oh, you don't think

Al Capone had a roommate
when he was in prison?

Oh, my God. I'm not stupid.
I know she's getting into other stuff.

I'm not gonna get involved in any of that.

You hang out with that crew
in that salon, you involved.

You want to rebel against your mother?
That's fine.

That's fine, because I'm the first person
to admit she wasn't perfect,

but that don't mean that you got to go
and screw up your own life.

I want to have friends.

I want to hang out with people my own age,

not people trying to be my mom
all the time.

I'll see you around.

Yeah?

I got no place else to go.

I already set up the couch.

Shh.

Come on.

Okay.

Okay. Shh, shh, shh.

Okay.

Shh.

Shh.

Shh.

Look!

Sorry. I forgot to set an alarm.

First, you make me meet you in Oneonta.

Then you're 45 minutes late.

You know, one of us has an actual job.

Oh, I see. You think I run
a 501 out of my bed?

I have three employees.

Now, let's see
this Pulitzer-winning photo.

You wrapped it in a t-shirt?

Yeah. It was up a nun's vagina.

You didn't... you didn't rinse it?

Yeah, I sprayed it with Windex,

especially the microchip part
with all the information on it.

Get in touch with Crystal Burset.

She's got an open case against MCC.

Danny, do not mention my name to anyone.

Big J finally joined the resistance.

I've done no such thing.

In fact, this meeting
never fucking happened. Okay?

It's a cool shirt. Can I...

No.

Tell Linda the sea witch I said hi!

Sorry.

You think I'm blind?

It's a granola bar.

You heard Piscatella. No food.

I am not gonna stand by
while somebody starves to death.

So give me four shots

or whatever will make me crawl back
to my bunk.

Fuck the shots.

Get up on the table.

Excuse me?

You heard me.

Up there with her.

What do you do when you have to go
to the bathroom?

You go.

Your scent is... strong.

Breathe through your mouth.

Sir, we, uh, got a situation here.

I have a situation myself.

You're gonna have to hold down the fort,
big man. Out.

I'm sorry, what "snag"?

Well, we wanted to run the sewer line
straight out to the street,

but there's a massive shelf of bedrock
sitting in the way.

So what does that mean?

Well, we can dynamite the whole thing.

Or we could run the line
the other way around

and connect it to the outtake over here.

Of course, that means going

straight through the garden
and the greenhouse,

which we've been trying to avoid.

What did Caputo say?

He hasn't picked up his phone all morning.

Okay.

All right, I'm calling it, then.

No more garden and greenhouse. Do it.

Hold up!

Hold up! There's something there!

This ain't gonna be pretty.

♪ Put your hand in mine
it will entice you ♪

♪ Put your hand in mine
it'll do the trick ♪

♪ Put your hand in mine
it will entice you ♪

♪ And you can cross me off your list ♪

♪ I won't leave you standing
in the rain again ♪

♪ I won't leave you standing at all ♪

♪ So if you come right here ♪

♪ And if you hold me dear ♪

♪ I won't leave you standing in the rain ♪

♪ If you hold me dear ♪

♪ I won't leave you standing in the rain ♪