Orange Is the New Black (2013–…): Season 5, Episode 7 - Full Bush, Half Snickers - full transcript

Black Cindy concocts a scheme to distract Suzanne when she spirals out of control. Taystee and Piper search for ways to honor Poussey's memory.

Are you wondering how healthy the food you are eating is? Check it -
- I'll let her know.
- All right.

And still no response from the governor

after inmates at Litchfield Prison
publicly burned food and other supplies

sent to them from the governor's office.

Man. Two hours of this shit.

It's like watchin' that Yule
log channel at Christmas,

only taco flavored.

Looks like the log I made this morning.

Too real.

Bet they never thought
we'd last this long.

I love being underestimated.

Like when no one thought I'd
jump off the river bridge.

Did a fuckin' backflip!

Fuck you, Brent Moxley, and
your stupid cousins, too.

Ah, the black is right. This
is kind of boring and... Yuley.

Hey, what else is on?

Deal or No Deal?

- Um, no deal.
- Duck Dynasty.

- I second that.
- Third.


- For real?
- Yeah.

Y'all are some simple bitches.

Well, time for candy.

Nice, ladies.

It's true. If you have
heartburn when you're pregnant,

you'll have a hairy baby.

My cousin had it real bad. Her
girl is like a little monkey.

That's not how science works, though.

Hey. You ladies look like
you could use a drink.

That piss? 'Cause I
don't do that no more.

No, silly. It's yellow drink.

That ain't bad. Let me
get some more of that.

Damn, yo.

Luschek puts mushrooms on everything.

I think those grew in there.


She likes her a special mustard.

Oh, man, all this shit is rotten. Fuck.

The milk's still good.

No, I don't fuck with lactose.
Look, check the cabinets.

All's they got is coffee.

I need to eat something soon, yo.

Your face is startin'
to look like a McChicken.

- Really?
- I'm serious.


Y'all thirsty?

What the hell is that?

Oh, it's my mama's famous yellow
drink. Part of my community service.

Okay, we don't need yellow
drink. We need calories.

This got calories.

It's made from the lemon
candy at commissary.

Exactly like my mama used to make.

You just take the
candies, crunch 'em, right?

And you twirl it around, and
then you get that taste. Here.

- Good, right?
- This shit is tasty.

It's like my mama used to say,

"When life hands you lemons,
make water with a taste."

Mmm. Mmm-hmm.

Thank you so much.

It has that smell.

Can you take three?

That was a good time. We went around...

I'm doing all right now. I'm in prison.

Called in. Mmm-hmm.

Oh, you know I tell a good story.
I like to tell a good story.

And I really started it all,

'cause I didn't tell
stories about princesses.

But I said...


Look like you could use a drink in here.

No, I'm fine.

- Oh! But my guest might be thirsty.
- Oh.

Mmm-hmm. She has ulcerative
colitis, so... makes her dehydrated.

Yeah, growin' up, I used
to have imaginary friends.

- Mmm-hmm.
- Until one of 'em stole the other one's

- imaginary Easy-Bake Oven...
- Mmm-hmm.

... and ran him flat
over in her imaginary car.


So, uh, what's, uh, your friend's name?

Mommy is not imaginary.

She and Daddy are here for visitation.

Oh. I don't think they're
doin' visitation today.

But it's visitation day.

It is visitation day, but all
the doors have been locked.

There's no guards to watch you cry.

I'm not gonna cry in front of Mommy.

That makes her upset.

- And we can't make Mommy upset.
- Hey.

- Then we have a problem.
- Hey, are you okay?

- We don't...
- No?

I am having some of the bad feelings.


like when you're at the swim party and
all the kids are playing Marco Polo,

but you have the menstruation
in your yellow bathing suit.

Those kinds.

Yeah. Those suck.

- All right.
- They suck.

Uh, well, listen, you
stay hydrated, you hear?

Your mama, too.

Yeah, thank you, Grace.

Oh. You are the best sister ever.

Thank you, but my name's Tiffany.

Suzanne, hair is not for eating!
It's for keeping your brain warm!

Are you a child? You're
smarter than that.

You should know better than to eat
your hair. Hair is not for that.

That's supposed to be like
a blanket on your brain

to keep you cozy, warm, and protected.

Instead, you're just
sitting here, eating it!


I told you. You a full-blown Slytherin.

And I'm a lion-hearted Gryffindor
with the intelligence of a Ravenclaw.

But how does it even know
this? I lied for every answer.

They ain't all bad.
Snape was a Slytherin.

It turned out he had that selfless love.

I did have a snake once.

A Burmese python named Krueger.

Technically, it was Cal's,
but Krueger liked me best.

- Did you ever talk to it?
- Mmm-hmm. When I was feeding him.

Epic conversations.
Mostly about the merits

of frozen versus fresh mice and
why Mike Powell never loved me back.

You cold-blooded for sure.

Nobody asked you, Hufflepuff.

White girl hitting you
with some mad expelliarmus!

Yo, T, we got a problem.

Yo, what now?

Suzanne won't leave visitation.
She think her mama is here.

Well, tell her it's cancelled.

Dude, she jabberin' like The
Exorcist. I don't want to get puked on.

Well, I can't play Mama right now.

You see a problem, you deal
with it. I got enough goin' on.

So that's how it is?

Come on. I'll help you.

'Cause Hufflepuffs value
friendship, loyalty and compassion.

Hey, yo. Like, how long it take a bunch
of white people to agree on something?

Our MO is to stop speaking
and harbor resentment,

so this could take years.

Perfect. 'Cause we all hungry in here,

and I just burned a week's worth of
everyone's favorite puffed corn snacks.

You've done everything you could.


All this, uh... waitin' around...

makes me miss her even more.

You know, when Cal and
I would get bored...

we'd make little figures
out of popsicle sticks

and hide them all over the
house for my parents to find.

Well, I'd make the figures.

Cal sniffed the glue, which
was why we got the snake.

- Y'all a weird family.
- Anyway, my point is...

why don't we do something constructive?

Things are finally going well for once.

Why not enjoy the fruits
of our labor a little bit?

Your labor.

The fruits are your fruits.

I mean, um...

we could do somethin' for Poussey.

She never did get a proper memorial.

That's what I'm talkin' about.

There's that Ravenclaw brain.

- Don't get cute.
- I'm sorry.

You woke up.

See? Told you. She full possessed.

That's what you get for
fuckin' with the spirit world.

This is mental illness, not possession.

Man, she need Jesus or... or
Hashem. She needs somethin'.

What she needs is her old routine back.

Yeah. Well...

- we ain't in Kansas no more.
- Mmm.

I got an idea.

- Come on.
- Yeah, all right.

But if she start yelling "cunt,"
I'm callin' me a Catholic.

- So you're looking for painters?
- Not exclusively.

It's really whatever
inspires you. Anything.

It could be sculpture. It could be
mosaic. It could be sand art. It...

But it says "Picasso" and some
other word that starts with a "P."

Picasso wasn't only a painter.

He basically invented constructed
sculpture during his Cubist period.

Not to mention his work with collage.

Why you got to be a bitch?

I used to bang my art
teacher. Don't be jealous.

I'm sorry. I just have to ask.

Why only half the face?

- Well, before.
- Uh-huh.

After. Evening look.

It's for our makeover
channel on YouTube.

We're on YouTube now, so...

Why don't you think of this as,
like, a makeover for the prison?

You're beautifying the
prison in Poussey's memory.

- I see.
- Mmm-hmm.

We can totally do that. Mmm-hmm.

Yeah, this place could totally
use lots of makeovers. I mean...

with all these Picassos
walkin' around...


- Go for it.
- Hmm.

Mmm. I mean, where do we even start?

- So much ugh, so little time.
- I know.

Yes! Yes!

Look at them.

They're like beached
whales, but more sad.

Well, no one's forcing
them to be out here.

Yeah, but we need them
out here, you know?

If we ever want this shit to end,

we gotta have more bitches out
here than there is in there.

What's with all this "we"?

Last I checked, you were leading
the Guards Gone Wild cavity search.

I'm a changed woman.

More like bipolar.

Look, I got my reasons.

Point is...

I want this thing over, just like you.

But we're never gonna get
it done sitting on our asses.

We need numbers.

All of your ideas are welcome.

This is an opportunity
to express yourself.

We want your creativity, your
vision. No idea is a bad idea.

You running for student body president?

More like a student council position.

Well, you seem extra perky today.

What's not to like? There are no guards.

Freedom from the male gaze. Sunshine.

Well, I'm glad you're
enjoying yourself now,

'cause it'll be less fun when
people start getting killed.

You mean more people?

This is not some shiny
extracurricular, Piper.

You're right. This is
actually very important.

Whatever. It's far too
hot to fight with you.

Hot... Come here.

Time out.

When was the last
time you took a shower?


Yeah. Being antiestablishment
does not mean you have to be dirty.

Activism really brings
out your inner bitch.

What? I work hard all day.

I want to come home to somebody who...

takes care of themselves.
What? Is that so much to ask?

Okay, so I'm your new project now?

Go back to your little craft fair.

It's not a craft fair. It's
a memorial installation.

You can install it up your ass.

Could you wash your ass?

Fucking guera trying to steal our
people with this arty bullshit.

I think it could be nice.

- Oh, so you're on their side now, too?
- It's not about sides. I'm just saying.

This place can be so
ugly that it's depressing.

Well, if you want to make art so
bad, why don't you do it out here?

- Don't be a dick.
- No, seriously.

We got to make this
place nice and fix it up.

Like you said, it's
depressing. So come on.

Get your crayons.

I've always been more
of a girth gal, myself.

Don't like them long jobbies
that poke your cervix.

Amen to that.

Ain't nothin' like a Fat Albert.

Those fatties stretch you out.

I like to stay tight.

Ain't yoga good for that?

No, but it does make the
dirty wheelbarrow position

a lot easier.

How 'bout you, Norma?

What's the dirtiest
thing you've ever done?

Let me see. Let me see.

Damn! I didn't know you
ladies got down like that.

They didn't call it the
sexual revolution for nothin'.

Come on, squirt. What you got?

There was this one guy I dated.

He had a foot thing.

Like high heels and all of that?

No. Foot jobs.

Like hand jobs, but with your feet.

Whoa. How does that even work?

Imagine picking up a hot dog...

- Whoa.
- ... with your toes,

and then massaging it with your arches.

It gave me calves like a speed skater.


Lorna? I can't believe
I'm lookin' at you.

What's the matter? You hurt?

I don't know what to do.
I don't know what to do.

Breathe. Right. Just take a deep breath.

- I'm breathing.
- Good.

Now tell me what's goin' on.

I've been watchin' the news.
They're not sayin' nothin'.

They're just showin' this
pile of burnt chip bags.

Is it true somebody's
got a gun in there?

I don't know. I don't know.

Somebody did get shot, and
there was a lot of blood.

And I got nobody in here, baby.

- I got nobody.
- Listen to me.

Go and find someplace to hide.

Someplace safe, away from the
guns, all right? I'm on my way.

You... you're comin' here for me?

Of course I am.

Listen, I got to tell you somethin'.

Vinnie. Vin... Vinnie? Vinnie,
I got somethin' to tell you.

Hon... Hon... Vinnie! Vinnie?

He's coming for me.

Call him back. You forgot
about the Burger King.

That smells good. Smell that.

That's what I'm talkin'
about right there.

Mmm. I miss coffee.

Thanks for the coffee.

I gotta say...

for a bunch of
plantain-loving subhumans,

you Latinos make a
damn good cup of coffee.

Well, if it wasn't for
you soulless white crackers

comin' over and taking
land from us Hispanics...

we never would've had
coffee in the first place.

Actually, that was the Hispanics.

What are you talkin' about?

"Hispanic" refers to people
from Spanish-speaking countries,

which includes the Spanish,

who colonized Latin
America, creating Latinos.

Oh, for serious? Oh,
that's mad interesting.

Have you thought about
expanding your menu?

You know, like, lattes and stuff.
Flat whites, cortados, breves?

Listen to Chock Full
O' Fancy Nuts over here.

I was on the cover of
Barista Magazine twice

before the FBI figured out I was
poisoning Jews and mud people.

Oh, snap. Yo, I know you.

You a subscriber?

Nah, um... from the news.

Yo, that... that black
guy, he got real sick.

Yeah, they all got real
sick. That was the point.

But they enjoyed the drinks going down.

Look, you wanna lend us a hand?

I mean, we could use some help here.

But you gotta promise no poison.

Like I carry around antifreeze.


Got a iced coffee for
Princess Buttercream?

- Hi.
- Hi.

Is it me, or is this prison
beginning to feel like,

I don't know, Club Med Punta Cana?

It does seem oddly peaceful
today. Must be the heat.

Or the absence of a patriarchy.

Is that woman really offering
to braid people's pubes?

Full bush for a half a Snickers.

- Not bad.
- Yeah, not bad.

Oh, that's gorgeous.

- That necklace?
- Yeah.


Hey, chum.

Five orange Starburst for the necklace.

Make 'em pink ones,
we can start to talk.

What fuckin' planet are you on?

I just got a Playtex Gentle Glide
360 Ultra for one yellow. One.

All right, six orange,
or I walk. Final offer.

- No sale.
- Okay.

Six orange, and I won't tear
it apart, rendering it garbage.

That's pretty aggressive.

Come on. This was a lot of work.

Look, I wouldn't be
threatening to destroy it

if I didn't think it was great.

- Six orange, going once...
- No! Fine! Fine.

Pleasure doin' business with you.

- You really shouldn't have.
- Oh, of course I should have.

- Oh.
- Well...

- Thank you.
- Fuck you.

But what about visitation?

Now, we done told you, Suzanne.

You in Bitchfield now, right?

Different name, different
visitation schedule.

But almost everything else is the same.

- Mmm. I see.
- Mmm.

So it's like prison within a prison.

Double prison.


And I'm the trap queen.

Now... First order of bidniss.

I'mma have to confiscate all your candy.

And maybe the Dr. Miracle's.

Mmm-mmm. Aren't you
gonna do a count first?

There's only two of y'all.

Well, I don't know how
things go in your prison,

but in my old prison,

they did a count and then
a search for contraband.

- Fine. One.
- Two.

You're counted.

Now hand it over.

Oh, my favorites.

Uh... come on.


Wait. You can't leave.

- Why not?
- Mr. Cluckles.

He's contraband. That's a shot.

And have you even looked at my bunk?

Easily two shots. Although,
I would argue three.

Mmm-mmm. I can't do this.
Your ass is too damn crazy.

Please, don't call me that.

Maybe Bitchfield...

needs more inmates to make
it feel more like Litchfield.

Quantity over quality.

And where are we supposed
to get inmates from?

We done freed the whole damn prison.

Hey, where are the guards at?
Figured they could use a drink.

Yeah, they... they locked
up in Spanish Harlem.


One, two.

- One, two.
- Come on, jab, jab.

- One, one.
- One, one.

- One, two.
- One, two.

Jab, cross.

Come on, jab, cross. One,
one. Come on, one, two.

Let's go! Come on, pump!
Come on. Work with me.

Oh, thank God! Water.

No, you get water when
I say you get water.

We ain't done yet.

But I'm dehydrated.

Tough shit. Shouldn't
drink all that hooch.

Now I want you to punch this face like
it's the person you're most angry at.

Okay, that is so reductionistic.

I'm not, like, angry at
one individual person.

- You gotta want to punch something.
- Yeah, but it's bigger than people.

I want to punch the
prison-industrial complex.

Well, I can't draw that
shit, so punch the pillow!


And the clams at the bottom of the
mural represent Poussey's past lovers.

So she dives in search of them.

Always reaching. Always searching.

Yearning to unlock

- the mysteries of their pearls.
- Ah.

Thank you.

Hold up.

What exactly do clams
got to do with Poussey?

She from Philly.

Well, they're sort of vaginal,
you know? Because of their shape.

Well, technically, oysters make pearls,

not clams.

But they're
representational here, right?

Do they symbolize pleasure?

Exactly. Yes.

They're orgasms.

- We'll get back to you.
- That means no, doesn't it?

Look, I'm not gonna disrespect Poussey

with some 2,000 Leagues
Under the Vajayjay shit.

Thank you for your effort. Next.

I... I was already up here,

but I really think hair
dolls can work, you guys.

Jab. Jab. Come on, one, one.


Can you wax on, wax off someplace else?

She getting her rage out, T!

Well, she's buildin' mine, yo!

We tryin' to get some shit done here,

and we can't with all
that huffin' and puffin'!

You're wasting your time!

The hell you know?

I know that Poussey wouldn't have wanted

a wall of nautical sex motifs

or death-themed macaroni art.

She would've wanted something special.

Like hair dolls.

Like everybody coming together

to create something
beautiful and memorable.

And what would that look
like, O visionary warrior?

You want to grunt an actual idea, maybe?

So as you can see, it's, like...

way less crowded out here
than it is in the dorms.

And also, we have a
thriving artistic community,

which I know is so
important to you gays.

What do you think, Von Barlow?

- I mean, I do like the sunlight.
- Uh-huh.

Ah. Well, wait until
you see the nightlife.

And over here is our market district...

When in Lesbos, huh?

You told me to blend. I'm blending.

Fucking the prison's lead
stud isn't what I meant.

Well, we're not fucking. We've
agreed to take things slow.

Oh. And what about your other beau?

The one who's in the guard bubble,

probably being sodomized
right about now?

Listen, I told your blonde
friend that Joe and I are over.

Wait. You don't think they're
really doing sodomy, do you?

What do you care? You've got
your new crush to worry about.

Listen, I'm just trying to
keep my head above water, okay?

When's this all gonna be over, anyway?

Once she realizes
you're not gonna put out.

...aromatherapy, and Shih Tzu.

Is this one botherin' you?

No. No, no. She's, uh, trying
to trade something for deodorant.

Gum? Look what I have.

Come on. There you go.

Take a cold shower,
Vause. She's with me.

- Shall we, Amelia?
- Yes.

Hey, you okay?

Who the hell are you?

What? It's me. They brushed my hair.

Your eyebrows. They're plural.

I had three once. Back
in my punk-rock days.

I'm trying to picture that.

- What's that?
- It's Humphrey's.

I thought we'd use it to
lure Piscatella inside,

but I can't figure out the passcode.

You tried 1815? Battle of Waterloo?

Of course. I'm not an idiot.

What about "tits" spelled with numbers?

That, too.

- Oh! Jeffrey Dahmer's birthday.
- I've tried everything! It's useless!

All that hard work was for nichevo!

I'm a failure!

I failed my girls! I failed you!

Ay coño. Pull yourself together. Here.

What is it?

Just a vitamin. Works faster this way.



Oh, my God.

The answer was right under our noses.

So to speak.

Come. I know what we must do.

You look radiant, by the way.

Where you think you're going?

Outside. My husband is coming for me.

You go out there, the pigs
are gonna throw you in Max

faster than you can say,

"Please don't throw me in Max."

Well, I have to talk to him. I have
some very important news to share.

Don't he text?

I'm not gonna text my
husband I'm pregnant, okay?

Oops! You happy now?

Yeah, that's not a good text.

Or is it? I don't know you.

Oh, you should tell him, like,

with one of those
promposal videos online.

My cousin did one where
he jumped out a helicopter.

And it was written on the parachute?

Yeah. But he landed bad
and shattered his pelvis.

Couldn't dance after that.

You know, that's not a bad idea.

I should do something like
that. This is big news, right?


But don't do the parachute
thing. That's copying.

No. No, I wouldn't do that.
Mine is gonna be so much better.

How she even get pregnant?

She didn't. Ain't you
heard of Lorna la Loca?

Oh, that's Lorna la Loca?

She's cuter than I thought.


Ah. Man, didn't anyone
ever teach you to knock?

What, are you tryin' to drown
yourself like a turkey in the rain?

Guess I just needed a soak.

Girl drama?

I'm just having some
serious feelings about, uh...

inmate civil liberties.

Yeah, you're not alone.

Girls are the fucking worst.

- Everything okay over there, boss?
- Peachy, thanks.

Starting a lesbian biker cult?

I guess my invite got
lost in the mail, huh?

It's not funny.

How does one destroy an army of clones?

I missed that movie.

Hey, maybe go blonde.
Throw 'em off your scent.

Yeah, I'll be completely anonymous
around here as a six-foot-tall blonde.

Yeah, well, change is
very important, actually.

When my mom would, uh, catch my
dad cheating, she would just...

get a new hairdo, wax the bush,

try some new eye shadow. Whatever.

- Yeah. And that worked for her?
- Well, no.

But fucking his brother did.

Uncle Ray really
appreciated that kinda thing.


Now your eyes don't
look upside down no more.

This is great.

I miss Heroin Barbie.

You're welcome.

I literally want to go fuck myself.

Like, right now.

All right, Vause. Your idea, your turn.

I'm having second thoughts.


Don't be a chickenshit.


Let us fix your bustedness.

- It's for the community.
- Fine.

- Yay!
- A blank canvas.

I'm thinkin' we go short.
Right off the bat. Mmm-hmm.

Yes, that'll be cute. What do you think?

I don't know. That
seems a little dramatic.

True. And you do have weird ears.

- No.
- The right one's a little...

No. No. No.

No, no, no, no, no,
no, no. No. No. Just...

You need to line the top
hem with the edge of the bed,

then fold and tuck
for maximum crispness!

- You should really listen to her.
- Thank you.

I was in the army for six years.
I know how to make a goddamn bed.

No wonder they use drones.

This is fucked up.

At least they took us out of
that room with the shit bucket.

This whole fuckin'
place is a shit bucket.

Why are we even doin' this? 'Cause
some mental case wants playmates?

Same reason I was born.

Here... here she comes.




Huh? Huh? Huh?

Look at this, huh?

I worked really hard on that.


I'm sorry.

Did you want to go to the Poo?

- 'Cause I can make that happen.
- Oh, God.

Not now. Not now.

Anybody else got
somethin' they want to say?



- You want some, too?
- No. No, I don't.

Yo, this is so...

Enjoying yourself?

It's no Judy King slave, but it works.

How long before we gotta return them?

I paid four bags of mini
Reese's Cups for they asses.

We got time. Shit.

And if they get out of line...

we'll crack that whip
on 'em. You feel me?


- Yes, ma'am.
- Clink.

Now what do we do?

Now we settle into a witty banter

that is insightful but
also comically aloof.

Now you start.

Oh. All right.

Women, am I right?

Or not.

Every generation bucks
the established order.

God knows we did it.

I remember '68,


the first interracial Star Trek kiss.

People thought it was Armageddon.

Yet here we are, 50 years later,

and still fighting over the same shit.

If they want to throw a hissy fit,

it's on them to clean up
the Cheerios when it's over.

Just 'cause we're their elders
don't mean we got to wipe their ass

- every time they take a shit, right?
- Exactly.

When the Helots tried to throw off
the yoke of the Spartans at Laconia,

the Gerousia didn't run out
onto the battlefield, did they?


I think she dated my brother, Sal.

Gerousia Vitti.

From the office-supply Vittis,
not from the pepperoni Vittis.

It means "elder council."

- Point is, we put in our time.
- Yeah, cheers to that.

- Yeah.
- Yeah, cheers.

It's your turn, Footjobs.


Jesus, Gina! The hell
you doin' over there?

It's a signal booster. The
service sucks down here.

Kids, always with the screens.

- Oh!
- Oh! That's game.

♪ Something unpredictable ♪

♪ But in the end it's right ♪

♪ I hope you serve your time for your ♪

♪ Life ♪

Full bush. Half Snickers.

Revolting women. My sisters.

Stand united. Better guards.

Yummy snacks.

Nicer yard.

Maxi Pads. Cleaner showers.

Voices screaming.

Fight the power!

That's my girl.

Get up there.

Um, I can't. It's...
it's too many people.

You got this. Go.


Hey, Litchfield, how y'all doin'?
Uh, it's good to be back here.

Uh, I'm gonna do some
impressions for y'all today.

Holy ravioli.

My husband put his mozzarella

all over my baked ziti, and
he told me that he loved me.

Isn't that romantic?

Lorna la Loca!

Hey, blondie. Does the,
uh, carpet match the drapes?

Hey, uh, let me test the
echo in your love cave.

I promise, you'll only like it a lot.


Oh, what's the matter? I'm
not white enough for you?

Yeah, okay! We get it.

In Russia, we do not have Happy Meal.

We have Unhappy Meal.

Insult my food...

I kill your family.

So, you see, it's not one structure.

It's a living, breathing example

of what Poussey would've
wanted this prison to be.

And who's supposed to build all this?

All of us, as a community.

We'll each do what we can and, together,

create a portrait of Poussey.

It'll be, like, a
monument to her legacy.

Right. And then we all do Thriller.


Okay. I know that it seems crazy,

but when Maya Lin conceived
of the Vietnam Memorial,

people thought she was crazy, too.

And now it's one of the most visited
attractions in Washington, DC.

You know, Larry and I did visit
there once, and it was very moving.

Well, this ain't Washington, DC.

And I don't know who
the fuck Larry is...

- Mmm-hmm.
- ... but I'm guessin'

the demographic in here
ain't very Larry-like.

Fine. Go with the fuckin'
hair dolls, then. I tried.


Just wait. Wait.

Let's at least give her a shot.

I mean, it's this or we have clams.


But don't fuck this up, Maya.

There ain't no justice.

Pushin' a cart like a retard
ain't gonna get my finger back.

Yeah, but if we make
enough money selling coffee,

maybe we could hire
better representation.

Someone like... Oh! Johnnie Cock-hand!

Who is Johnnie Cock-hand?

From The BJ Story, my favorite porno.

He totally got that
black guy off. And off.

The world don't work like
pornos, Angie. I wish it did.

The system's busted. We gotta
take matters into our own hands.

Okay, but can you use your good hand?

Because the other one looks like a
tampon. I'm gonna gag and die. Gross.

Whoa. That's quite a
talent you got there.


Normally, street art, it scares
me, but this is very pretty.

I wasn't goin' for pretty.

Oh. Well, I... I like
how it tells a story.

How love gives you legs to stand on,

and without it, you're just a
disgusting, deformed cripple.

Can I help you with something?

Oh, it's funny you should ask.

Actually, I was wondering if I
could borrow some of your paints.

My husband's on his way, and I...

I want to make him somethin'
special to tell him the good news.

We're havin' a baby.

That's not always good news.

Of course it is.

- Oh, you don't know my Vinnie.
- I don't have to.

They're all the same.

As soon as shit gets real, they run.

Even if they only have one fucking leg.

What Vinnie and me have is different.

We made vows.

"For better or for worse,
in sickness and in health."

He would never do that to me.

Just borrow the blue.

Oh, it's another sign! It's a boy!

Thank you.

The glory of revolt. It's like
looking in a history textbook.

One made possible by
fetal alcohol syndrome.


- I was thinking more shaken baby.
- Hmm.


I had thought about art history,
but it just didn't seem practical.

Yeah, I once thought about art
history, and then I passed out drunk.


That's a real nice necklace you got.

Personally, I think it'd be cuter on me.

- What you think?
- Yeah.

Shit will make your eyes pop.

Whoa, now back the fuck off. Come on.

Oh, look like butchy want to play.


Anybody ever tell you size matters?


Yeah, fuck off.

That's right. And it's Mr. Butch to you!

Oh, my God.

God! Fuck.

Holy shit!

What's wrong with him?

It's like half of him is very sad.

Hey, pudding face. Wake up.

We need your passcode.

Christ. He's a vegetable.

We don't need his
brain. Just his finger.

What are you talking about?

See? It uses a fingerprint.

We are living in the future.

Or they are. Someone is.

Now it's time for the other one.

- What is he doin' here?
- Trying to be a hero.

Quick. Create a diversion
while I get the fingerprint.

- How?
- You're a woman. How?

- Use your sexuality.
- Okay.

Fucking Bond villain.

This side feels a bit tender.

- Is that okay for you?
- Yeah, that... that's good.

- Hey.
- Can I help you?

Do you come often to this place?

I work here, so yes.

I work here, too. I'm an inmate.

What? No, no, no.

I'm not gonna give you drugs.

I don't want drugs.

I want romance.

He isn't interested.

Quiet, grandma.

Okay, I think you need to leave.

That's right. He's my Bollywood prince.

- Psst.
- Fine. You can have him.

- Oh.
- Did you get it?

Oh. Smart.

And then the princess kissed the knight,

and they ran away from the castle

to a place where her parents
could never find them.

And then they lived happily...



Until she got pregnant.

And then it was all "baby"
this and "nursery" that.

She even stopped performing oral
sex. Had to do with the hormones.

And suddenly he realized,
"This isn't where I want to be.

"I'm a fuckin' knight.

I was born to kill."

And in that moment, he understood...

that he had to disappear.

Into the night.

Uh... I got nothin'.

When in doubt, go with dragons.

I'm gonna be honest.

- I think that Josh boy...
- want it.

He got that thirsty look in his eye.

He could also just be thirsty, like...

for water.


Why you gotta throw
salt in my game? Like...

Yo, it ain't that serious.

My daughter used to play that
story game with her friends.

We used to have sleepovers
at my house during summer.

They'd set up a tent in the yard...

beg me to make my famous brownies.

You miss her, huh?

You have no idea.

I'll be back.

You got this?

Yeah, I got this.

So the princess got another abortion.

- What? Ugh!
- And, uh, when the king found out,

he freaked and locked her in a
tower for the rest of her life.

The end.

That's what I would do.

You guys are animals.


This ain't no damn slumber
party. Back to your bunks!

- Aw.
- Now!

- Aw, man.
- Fucking guards, man.

My wife is in there.

I don't care if Taylor Swift is
in there. No one's gettin' in.

- This is bullshit.
- Okay, sir.

What's your name? Hopper? Is
there somebody else I can talk to?

- Somebody in charge?
- No, I'm in charge, sir.


Guys, we got a woman on the roof.

Vinnie, I'm over here!

Look at this.

- Over here!
- Come on. Let's go.

- Vinnie!
- That what I think it is?

It's a surrender.

Oh. Oh, shoot.

There are words on it.

- "Lasagna in the oven"?
- Vinnie!

- Jesus, is that a threat?
- Holy shit.

Honey, do you get it?
It's our hilarious joke!

I don't think he can hear you.

That woman looks mentally ill.

- Jesus fucking Christ.
- Your wife, I take it?

No. Wrong prison. Excuse me.

- Excuse me.
- I love you!



- Where are you going?
- Maybe he got diarrhea.

No, he doesn't have diarrhea.


Where is he go... Vinnie!

Vinnie, honey, I'm here!

Vinnie, where are you
going? I'm right here!

Vinnie! No, don't go!

Maybe you should've went
with another metaphor.

Allahu Akbar.

- I hope it's a book burning.
- Fingers crossed.

Hi, everyone. Um...

Uh, thank you for bringing your books.

In honor of Poussey,

I'd like to welcome you all to the
new Litchfield Community Library.

Now, as you can see, it's
no longer just one room,

but it's everywhere.

Um, so just take your book,
replace it with another.

Kind of like a book swap.

And no, uh, smoking, 'cause,
like, you know, paper.

Um, and no stealing.

And no flash photography.

Just be respectful. Okay.

- Oh, wow. Nice.
- Wow.

So simple.

Maybe I should learn how to read.

You brought her favorite.

Listen, I'm sorry about last night.

I was drunk and insensitive and rude,

and you did not deserve that.

It's okay.

No, it's not.

I know how much she meant to you.

And how much you meant to her.

Look, I get it.

Trust me. I'm pissed off, just like you.

I ain't hungry.

I can't sleep.

And every time I close
my eyes, I see her.

At least you're doing
something about it.

It don't matter.

She ain't comin' back.

It ain't no Dewey decimal system, but...

... it's all right.

Hot, baby!

- Hey. Okay?
- All right.

Another work of art.

You're, like, the Basquiat to my Warhol.

I was gonna say that.

Wait. When is the
last time you showered?

You smell like burnt Cheetos.

Oh, shut up.

Are those braids?


Pothead alert.

- What the...
- Yes! Signal booster's working. I rule.

Who's Benny? Your boyfriend?


My son.

How about the little scared cryin' face?


We have to get inside the man's head.

We need Piscatella to believe
he's actually talking to Humphrey.

I see. So you're sayin'...

knife, gun, bomb, then prayers' hands.

Oh, give that to me.


"it's Humps.

"We need your help.

Are you there?"

See? Simple, clean.

I still feel it's missing something.

Sorry. We're out.

I waited 20 fucking minutes!

What happened to the cold
brew? It was right here.

I don't know. Ask your partner.

Oh, hell no. I know you
ain't calling me a thief.

- I sure as hell didn't take it.
- Never trust a white bitch.

Who you callin' a bitch, spic?

Who you calling a spic, cracker?

- They ain't got no coffee!
- What?

Who was that?



Lourdes, I can't hear you.

Stop crying.

What hospital is he in?


Stop crying. I can't hear you.

Well... well, what did the doctor say?

Lourdes, listen to me!

What did the doctor say, Lourdes?

What are you doing? Let go of me!

What are you doing?

No! It's for the community!

Leanne, no! Please, no!

Let go of me.