Oz (1997–2003): Season 3, Episode 8 - Out o' Time - full transcript

Brace yourself for the explosive Season Three finale! As the new millennium approaches, things are heating up in Em City as racial tensions mount. Glynn fires Hughes, but before leaving, Hughes delivers a millennium gift to Adebisi: a gun.

[bright tone]

[tense jazzy music]

♪ ♪

- 'Twas the night
before Christmas,

and all through the house,
not a creature was stirring,

not even a mouse.

The rats, on the other hand,

is a whole different story.

[tense percussive tone]

- [praying indistinctly]

- Hey, Said,



I got a little gift
for you here.

♪ ♪

- Okay, what do we got?

- I was bitten by a rat.

- Jesus.

Can you take that?

[sighs]
Lie back.

- Christmas Eve.

[door buzzes]
- Yeah.

I think it's snowing.

- When I was a boy, this
was the best night of all.

Our house was full of music,
lights, food, cousins.

Em City is so empty.

- Sure, it is.



We're in the middle
of a lockdown

'cause the Aryans
attacked the Muslims.

- I'm getting a premonition
like I used to

when God would talk to me.

- God would talk to you?

- He would tell me what
was going to happen.

- And is he talking
to you now?

So, what's he saying?

- He says, "be afraid."

- Eugene, Miguel asked
you a question.

Can you forgive him?

- [Miguel moaning]

- No!

No! No! No! No!

♪ ♪

- Miguel...

I, uh--

I talked to Eugene
and Tina yesterday,

and, um,

they've decided...

they don't want to continue
with the program.

- Oh.

Too bad.

You know, I had a lot of things
that I wanted to say to him.

- Well,

you could say them to me.

- Not the same thing.

- Of course not.
I understand.

There are certain things
you should only say

to certain people...

Like...

the warden.

He's expecting you to tell him
who raped his daughter.

- [chuckles]

- Are you prepared
to do that?

- No.

- Miguel, do you want to
go back to Solitary?

- No.

- Then my advice is...

that you take this day,

pray to God,

look within

and make a choice.

- May Almighty God bless you,
in the name of the Father,

the Son,
and the Holy Spirit.

The mass has ended.

Go in peace to love
and serve the Lord.

Alleluia, Alleluia.

[together]
Thanks be to God, Alleluia.

- Merry Christmas, everybody.

[together]
Merry Christmas, Father.

[indistinct chatter]

- Yo, hermano,

I hear Glynn
is letting Hernandez,

Guerra, and Ricardo
back into Emerald City.

- Yeah.

- If I was you,
I'd watch my ass.

- Why is that?

- I saw how when they got
busted, you walked away.

That's not too cool, bro,
deserting your amigos like that.

- Why don't you leave
me the fuck alone?

- Hernandez is gonna be
in a nasty-ass mood,

looking to take it out
on someone.

That's all I'm saying.

- My sister'll be here
to see me.

- Are you sure?

- Yeah, she knows how much
I love Christmas.

[door buzzes]

- Miguelito,
feliz navidad!

- Where'd you
disappear to, man?

- What do you mean,
disappear?

- All four of us are together,
only three of us are cuffed.

- Come on, guys, back up.

You got to forgive them,
Miguelito.

They had a lot of time
to themselves

to wonder about things.

But me,
I don't wonder.

I know.

You're not one of us.

You never will be.

[tapping on door]

- Why is it I get nervous seeing
the four of you

huddled in this pod together?

Huh?

Whoever don't live here,
come on.

Vamoose.

Let's go.

Hernandez, for Christ's sake,
it's Christmas, huh?

Take a break from
being a tough guy.

- He's right.

Enjoy the day.

[eerie tones]

It'll be your last.

- I made up my mind.

I'm not gonna tell
the warden anything

about his daughter's rape.

- Are you sure
about this?

Have you really
thought it through?

- Yeah.

I want to go
back to Solitary.

- Okay, I'll make
the arrangements,

transfer you out of here
first thing tomorrow.

- No, not tomorrow.

I want to go right now.

- Transfers take time.
- Fuck that.

I want to go right now.
- Why, Miguel?

Are you in danger?

Because if you are, we can
put you in protective custody.

- What difference does
it make, you know?

Alone is alone.

That's the way I've been
my whole fucking life.

I just don't belong
in the world.

I belong by myself.

Solitary.

- Whoa, whoa. Is she coming?

- She's not on the list.

- Well, check it again.

- Ricardo,
I double-checked it.

Your sister didn't
schedule a visit.

Nobody in your family did.

[tense percussive tones]

- Carlo, it's time.

- You leaving us,
Alvarez?

- Before you go, we want
to give you something.

♪ ♪

[groans]

- Fuck.

- My first day I got here,
I got stuck.

No more,
you fucking cocksucker.

- Drop it!

I said drop it!

Get out.

- Ricardo's dead.

- Lockdown!

[doors buzz]

Let's go, come on.

Move it.

[alarm blaring]

- Season's greetings,
fuckwad.

[door slams shut]

- Well, Alvarez is
back in solitary.

I guess the circle
is complete.

- Ray,
I am so sorry.

- Sorry?

Is this an official
confession?

- I should never
have excluded you.

Maybe if you had attended
the sessions with Alvarez

and Rivera, things might
have ended up differently.

- I doubt it.

Well, there goes
the baby Jesus,

back in the box
for another year.

And the wise men,

Larry, Curly and Moe.

- [laughs]

- Pete,
have you absolutely decided

to stop being a nun?

- Well, you know,
the process of getting out

is just as hard as getting in,

so by the time I'm done,
who knows?

- I admire your courage.

- Sometimes, it takes
just as much courage

to stay as to go.

- Maybe,

but if the magi
had stayed in Persia,

did what they were supposed
to do, followed all the rules,

they never would
have seen God.

- Thank you.

- I got word at home
that you wanted to see me,

that you wanted to talk
about Ardeth's attacker.

- So you want to know
who raped her, right?

- Yes.

- Why?

- So they can be punished.

- What if I told you
that the one who did it

has already been
punished?

- The name.

I want the name.

- Carlo Ricardo.

[tense percussive music]

He's been here
the whole time.

[laughing]

[continues laughing]

- I'm sorry about
your brother.

- Did you know him?

- No.

- Carlo could
never rest.

Maybe finally now...

[sobs]
He'll get some.

- ♪ God rest
ye merry gentlemen ♪

♪ Let nothing you dismay ♪

♪ Remember Christ the savior ♪

♪ Was born on Christmas day ♪

♪ To save us all
from Satan's power ♪

♪ When we were gone astray ♪

♪ Oh, tidings of
comfort and joy ♪

♪ Comfort and joy ♪

♪ Oh, tidings of
comfort and joy ♪

- I was supposed to die
this Thursday,

the last execution
of the millennium.

But the governor heard
that I'm pregnant,

and an hour ago,
he issued a temporary stay.

- Well, knowing Devlin,

he's, uh, just trying
to sort through

the political ramifications
of putting to death a woman

who got pregnant
while in prison.

You--you do know
who the father is?

- Why, yes. Of course.

- But you won't tell?

- No.

- The list is easy
to pare down.

- The father doesn't matter.

I want you
to go to the governor

and tell him to go forward
with the execution.

- Y-you want to die?

- I have to die.

- Why?

- I did kill my first born.

Oh, I've said it.

Some things aren't real
till you say them out loud.

- I know.

- My daughter,
my precious.

When she was born,
she was a joy,

but bit by bit, I began to see
that there was something

not quite right
about her,

something
not quite human...

Otherworldly.

I'd go into her room

and above the bassinet,
there'd be flashes of fire.

- Fire?

- Or she'd speak
in tongues.

One day, she even made
a plate levitate.

That's when I began to see

she was possessed
of the Devil.

- Did you, um,

ever talk to anyone
about this?

- Who could I tell?

My mother?

The child's father,
that lying bastard?

- Uh, well, your minister,

pediatrician.

- They would have thought
I was crazy.

No, I knew the only way
was to kill her myself.

But every time I went to strike,
I didn't see the devil.

I only saw my daughter's
sweet face.

So I put her in the car

and drove into the lake

and let her drown,

half hoping, half expecting
to see her rise up

out of the water
on Lucifer's back.

- Hmm.

All right.

I'll see what I can do.

Oh, God bless you.

- In three hours,
I'm hosting a party

at the mansion
for close to 400 people.

Now, what's all this
about Shirley Bellinger?

- She wants to
be executed.

- Well, good.

That solves
all my problems.

A little something
extra under the tree.

- Excuse me, Governor,
but there's one hitch.

She's insane.

- She drowned her daughter.
We knew that.

- The woman does not belong
on death row.

She should be in
the state asylum.

- But if she wants to die,

who are we to stand in her way?

- Governor, she is not fit
to make that decision.

She is certifiable
and she is pregnant,

and if you execute her,
you will be committing murder.

Two murders.

- Transfer Bellinger.

And, Warden,

I want you to end
this lockdown.

- We don't have the situation
under control.

- It's Christmas and I'm
getting heat from the clergy,

including the Cardinal,
who will be at my party tonight.

Let the inmates out!

And so, in the spirit of
this blessed holiday season,

I commute Shirley Bellinger's
sentence to life imprisonment

without the possibility
of parole.

This action in no way affects
my long-standing support

for the death penalty.

- You betrayed me.

- I protected you,
and your baby.

- I want an abortion, and if
you all won't give me one,

I will kill this monster
inside me myself.

- You are being sent to
the Connelly Institute,

where you will be on
24-hour watch.

- You're making a mistake!

Mark my words,
next year at this time,

you won't be
celebrating Christmas.

You'll be bowing
down before Satan.

The next millennium
belongs to him.

Satan is the father,
and I'm the virgin mother!

[tense music]

- There's only one thing that's
gonna make this all okay...

You, dead.

[both grunting]

- No!

[indistinct shouting
and grunting]

[bell ringing]

[tense percussive music]

♪ ♪

- Hey.

- Hey.

- You're back.

- Yeah, so are you.

- Yeah.

Feeling better?

- I'm alive,

thanks to you.

Keller...

I just asked McManus to let
you be my roommate again.

- Oh, boy,

Schillinger's home.

- He's not such
a bad guy, Diane.

- What drugs
are you on?

- He's a shitload
better than them.

- "Them" as in niggers?

- Yeah.

- Hey, Diane,
wanna go to lunch?

- Sure.

[tense jazzy music]

♪ ♪

[pool balls rattling]

- That's the thing
about an accusation

like sexual harassment.

There's nothing
I can do.

I can't prove it,
I can't disprove it.

It just hangs there
in the air.

- It becomes
its own reality.

[tense percussive music]

♪ ♪

- Cream puff?

♪ ♪

- Hey, Howell.

- Diane, don't!

- Fucking bitch!

- Come on, you cunt.
Come on, come

What's the problem, huh?

Huh? Come here!

[indistinct shouting]

- Come on,
you fucking bitch!

- Come on.

Come on, stop it!
Stop it!

- Tell me if this
is too tight, okay?

[monitors beeping]

- What the hell
happened?

- Howell and Diane got
into a fight

over me.

- Christ.

- Look...
- [sighs]

- Don't, okay, Leo?

I don't want to hear any of
your sanctimonious bullshit.

- I don't care what
you want to hear.

It's time you started
taking responsibility

for the shitstorms
you create.

- What?

That's all I do all day,
every day

is take responsibility, Leo,

for every fucking thing
in Em City.

And all I've ever looked to
you for is a little support.

- I've supported you.

- Yeah, like with
the thing with Wangler?

You took his side right away.
- I did not.

- Yeah, you took
his fucking side,

like you always do,
like you do with Hill,

like you do with Said

and even Clayton Hughes,
all the brothers,

no matter which side
of the law.

- Are you saying I do that
because they're black?

- Well,
read the score card, pal,

and add it up for yourself!

- Fuck you, McManus.

- Yeah, fuck me!

- Guys, guys,
everybody's listening.

[tense music]

♪ ♪

Okay, you've healed sufficiently
for me to remove the bandages.

Now, I want to remind you both
that there are gonna be some

changes in your pigmentation,
but they're only temporary.

Your skin should return
to its normal appearance

in six months
to a year, okay?

Go ahead.

- Damn!

- I might be able
to get a cab now.

[bell ringing]

- Oh!
- Oh!

- What up? What up?

Aight?

- What up, dog?
- Aight?

Look at y'all.
Y'all fucked up.

- Yeah, yo, son,
you believe this shit, yo?

- So what you doing out
of Em City, yo?

For real.

- Yo, what the fuck is we
all doing out of Em City?

That's what
the fuck.

- It's only temporary,
you know what I mean?

Adebisi got a plan.

- Adebisi? Man, fuck him.

- I'm telling you, Adebisi gonna
pay for what he did, for real.

- Yo, look,
I'm with you.

He's gonna pay, but later.

See, right now
y'all need to listen

and let me tell
you what's what.

[buzzer sounds]

♪ ♪

- In England, the day after
Christmas is called boxing day.

I'm not exactly sure why,

but in Oz,

every day is a boxing day
of sorts.

Ooh.

- Hey, Murphy,

I just heard a rumor
that Glynn's thinking

about canceling
the championship boxing match.

- Not canceling,
postponing.

- For how long?

- Indefinitely.

- Oh, man, that sucks.

- Life's full of
disappointments, O'Reilly.

You'd think you would
have grasped that by now.

[buzzer sounds]

- Hey, listen up.

I need to talk
to your men.

[buzzer sounds]

- You got two minutes.

- Warden, people have been
looking forward

to this final bout for months.

- If you postpone this,
there will be unrest.

- I know.

But last week,
we had a major confrontation

between the Muslims and the
Aryans, which you were part of.

- Schillinger
attacked Said first.

- Look, I don't want to get
into who's responsible.

You're all fucking
responsible.

- Schillinger attacked Beecher,
too, and he's white.

- You trying to tell me it had
nothing to do with race?

- Nothing? No.

But there were
other things at play.

This is just two fighters
fighting,

right, Hamid?

- The best man
should win.

- All right.

I'll let the bout take place,

but without an audience.

- What?

Just the fighters, the sidemen,

the referee and the judges.

- Mm-mmm, no way.

- Take it or leave it,
gentlemen.

[indistinct chatter]

- Yo, Khan.

Khan, check it.

Even though you beat me down,

you know what I'm saying,
we betting on you to win.

- That's right, baby.
Represent, son.

- Yes, yes. Break that
pretty white boy's face.

[laughs]

- Kick his black ass, Cyril.

- He ain't gonna
let us down, man.

He's the king.

Show him.

- He better win, O'Reilly,

or you're up shit's creek
with no paddle.

- Hit that fucking
bag, Cyril.

Harder. Come on.
Hit that fucking bag.

[tense music]

♪ ♪

- Thanks, brother.
- You got it, man.

[buzzer sounds]

- Eh, Officer Murphy,

I was wondering, do you know
where Ryan O'Reilly is?

- Uh,

he's at the gym.

- Ah.

Funny how he always asks for
permission to go to gymnasium

just before a fight.

- Why is that funny?

- Forgive me.

We Russians, we are
suspicious of everyone.

- O'Reilly.

Hey, hey, hey,
what are you doing?

- Goddamn!

Fuck!

- Chlorohydrate?

Spiking Khan's spritzer
with this shit?

Huh?

You been doing this all along,

drugging whoever Cyril boxed?

- I had to make sure
he didn't get hurt.

I had to show the rest of
the fucks in here

that the Irish
still matter.

- The others find out
about this,

there'd be a fucking riot.

- So who says they have
to find out, huh?

Maybe you never
saw me.

Maybe you never
even came in here.

- But I did,
all right?

Now, you could wave the flag
of Ireland all you want,

me brother, that fact
does not change.

- So what happens next?

- The fight goes on,

fair and square,
no drugs.

Cyril wins or loses
by his own hands.

♪ ♪

This I'm gonna keep a secret,

but if I find out you fucked
with Khan,

you're going to Solitary,
you hear me?

- How the fuck is Cyril
gonna beat Khan?

- That's not
my problem.

Come on, let's go.

♪ ♪

- [sharp exhales]

- How you doing, bro?

- I feel good, Ryan.

I feel good.

- All right.

Look, those, uh,

those other guys you fought,
they were, um...

they were kind of pussies,
you know?

- Pussies?

- Yeah.

But this Khan kid,

he's tough.

- I'm tough.

- Yeah, I know you are.

But, uh,

you're gonna have to be
extra special tough

when you fight
him tomorrow.

- Bam!

- Cyril, I got
a surprise for you.

- A surprise?
- Yeah.

- Um...

Dad's coming to visit.

- [breathing heavily]

[bell ringing]

- God dammit!

Fucking piece of shit.

This goddamn thing
just ate my quarters.

Well,

I'm here.

What's so
fucking urgent?

You told your Aunt Brenda
it was life and death.

I don't see
anybody bleeding.

- Been a long time, Dad.

I've been at Oz for
over three years.

You've never
come to see me.

- What's to see?

I've been inside.

I know what it's like.

- Yeah, but even so,
after Cyril got thrown in,

you could have come.

- What good's me being here
gonna do any of us?

- I'm boxing.

- What?

Talk English.

[laughing]

- Why are you laughing?

- Who's he boxing,
another 'tard?

- No, he's in the finals
to be the champion.

- Oh, Jesus.

I thought
Oz had balls.

If a stooge like you
can be a champion--Christ.

- Why do you always got to shit
on everything that we do?

- Maybe because everything
you do is shit.

- Yeah, well,
look who taught us.

- Don't start with that.

I provided a good
life for you.

I gave you a good home,
and you fucked it up.

Couple of two-bit wiseass punks,
drinking and whoring,

just like that bitch,
your mother.

- Shut up!

- Fuck you.

- Shut up,
shut up, shut up!

♪ ♪

- Thanks, Dad.

You came through for me,
just like always.

♪ ♪

[bell dings]

[indistinct shouting]

Come on.

- Come on now.

That's it. Stick the jab.

Stick the jab.

- Cover up, Cyril,
cover up.

- Finish him off.

- That jab--
- [grunts]

- One, two, three, four,

five, six, seven...

- He's all right. Come on.
- Seven, eight.

- Take a breath, Cyril,
come on, take a breath.

Let's go. Come on. You got it,
come on, let's go.

Let's go, baby. Keep it up.

Put your hands up.
Keep your hands up.

- Keep working the body.

[indistinct instruction]

- Cyril!
- Yes!

- Three, four, five...
- Breathe. Breathe.

- Six, seven...
- Take your time.

He's all right.
- Eight.

He can fight. Let him fight,
let him fight.

Let's go, come on.

[blows landing]

- Stay on him,
stay on him!

[bell dings]
- That's it. That's it.

- Yeah!

- Sit down. Look at me.
Sit down.

- I want to stop.

- No, no, there's no way you're
fucking stopping, all right?

- Nothing. Stay to the body.
Come to the head.

- You gotta--
- Stop, all right?

- You're not stopping.
Look, look, look, look.

Don't think of him as Khan,
all right?

Look at me.

Think of him as Dad.

- This guy's
got nothing.

He's got nothing.

- Dad?
- Yeah. All right.

Fucking serious.
Okay, you got it?

You're thinking
of Dad, right?

- Yeah.
- That's right.

You got it, let's go.
[bell dings]

- Round two, gentlemen.
- You got it, Cyril.

- Come on.
- Get him, baby.

[indistinct chatter]

- Dad!

Dad!

- [indistinct shouting]

- Come on, now.
Hamid, watch your feet.

- Come on, Cyril, Dad!

Come on, Cyril.

Dad!

- You little shit!

- That's it. That's it.
Come on.

- Look what you did!

- Dad! Dad!

- Told you to watch this,
didn't I?

- Keep your hands up!

- Clinch!
- Come on, now!

- What did I tell ya?

- Come on!

♪ ♪

- Come on now!

- Dad!

Dad, Cyril!

♪ ♪

Yeah!

You did it!

You fucking did it!

You fucking did it!
Come here, baby, come on.

- I'm a champion!

- You fucking did it.

- There's something
wrong with his leg!

He's not moving! Get somebody!

Get somebody!
- Khan!

Khan.
Khan, can you hear me?

Come on, Hamid.

Get somebody! Get somebody!

Khan, can you hear me?

Come on.

- Khan, can you hear me?

- What happened?
- Get back, get back.

- Get a doctor.
- Hamid.

♪ ♪

- I hurt that man.

- Nah, he'll be fine.

- No.

I hurt him bad.

Why, Ryan?

Why'd you make
me hurt him?

- You just get
ready to go to bed.

Please, Cyril?

Come on, man.

- Tell me, why'd I
have to hurt him?

- Would you just shut up,
please, and get ready for bed?

I'm tired.

- No.

You answer me now.

Why'd you make me
think of Dad...

And Mom?

Why?

- To survive.

Don't you fucking
get it yet?

To survive in
this fucking hellhole.

You want
the goddamn truth?

Khan's brain damaged.

[tense music]

- No.
- Yeah.

I saw it when
he went down.

His eyes went all
vacant and shit.

- You mean
I made him

just like me?

- No...

Worse.

What?

No, Cyril, no!

- [screams]

[sobs]

[sobbing]
Ryan!

[sobbing]

[sobbing]
Ryan!

- Is there any chance of
my husband coming out of this?

- We had a specialist from
Benchley Memorial verify

Dr. Nathan's diagnosis,

and he agreed Hamid is
irreversibly brain dead.

- He's on
life support now.

- My husband wouldn't want to
be kept alive by a machine.

Please take him off
life support.

- Well, unfortunately,
we can't do that.

State law requires us
to maintain treatment.

- But I'm his wife.

- Ma'am,
in this particular case,

because he's a prisoner,

your wishes, his wishes,

would not be taken
into consideration.

- You're the one who
molested a young,

black inmate, aren't you?

- I've been accused.

It's not true.

- I find it unseemly

to talk about my husband's life
with him present.

- Mrs. Khan--

- It's all right.

I'll go.

Again, I'm very sorry
about what's happened.

- Oh, you're gonna be
more than sorry, sir.

[door slams]

I intend to
sue this prison,

first to get Hamid
off life support,

and second for negligence,

for allowing this boxing match
to happen at all.

- Mrs. Khan,

your husband knew the risk.

He agreed voluntarily.

He pushed for the fight.

- So you say.

We'll let a jury
decide what's true.

[tense percussive music]

- [sighs]

[door slams]

[monitors beeping]

♪ ♪

- [speaking indistinctly]

- Everybody's worried
about this Y2K problem.

Come 2000, computers are gonna
have a nervous breakdown.

Planes'll fall from the sky,
the water supply'll dry up

and the Pentagon'll start
shooting nuclear warheads

at Canada.

Some predict that prison doors
will automatically spring open.

Well, I got the solution...

A do-over.

At the stroke of midnight,

it's 1900 again

and we get to do the whole
fucking century over,

I mean, 'cause, you know,
let's face it,

we didn't do such a hot job the
first time around.

[explosion]

- New year's Eve.

- Can you smell that?

- What?

- Hatred.

There's hatred
in the air.

- It's just an ordinary
day in Oz.

- No, my friend,
this is much worse.

Look.

Adebisi's sitting
with Arif.

And all those white faces

just clumped together.

I'm very afraid of
what might happen.

- Then do something
about it.

- I can't.

Three years ago,

I made the riot happen

and all those deaths.

I can accept my guilt
in that,

now, finally.

But this...

I don't want
any part of this.

[tense music]

♪ ♪

- You fucked up Khan.

We're gonna
fuck you up.

- Yo, Bricks,
back off, bitch.

That was a fucking accident,
all right?

- You better back the fuck up
and get out of my face.

- You feeling tall,
huh, little man?

Bring it on.

- Fucking honkey.

Get the fuck out of here.

♪ ♪

- My father was also
killed in this room.

- Keep moving.

- Last year,
I found my guide.

He found me.

Taught me my life,
my soul, my heritage.

And just like your father,

they cut him down
like an animal.

Right over there,
Jara died.

- Walk away, Adebisi.

- Yes, be angry.

Be angry, because these things
are no coincidence.

The waters run deep.

I know who killed
your father.

- What?

- Yeah, you send
Mukada to find answers.

You get what they
want you to hear.

- I got my answers
from Glynn.

- I ask around,
I get truth.

- Which is?

- Whose prints
were on the shank?

[indistinct yelling]

You have to wise up,
my brother,

because they want you, too.

[bell ringing]

♪ ♪

I watch yours

and you watch mine.

♪ ♪

- Adebisi, move your ass.

♪ ♪

- Man, I wish I'd been there
to see fucking Khan go down.

- Yeah.

- Maybe Allah
was out of town.

- I told you, the best boxers
aren't always negro.

- Fuck you both.

- I'm concerned about
the agitation

that's out there
since Khan got flattened.

- I know what
you mean, man.

I hear that shit coming
out of your mouth.

- It's no shit.

- Look, man, I understand you
cocolos have been fucked over

all your lives.
I have been, too.

But all these noises
you're making

will fuck things up around here.

- You can't move tits if
you're on lockdown 24/7.

- There are some things
more important than tits,

more important
than money.

♪ ♪

- More important
than money?

He's in his
loco mode again, man.

[bell ringing]

[indistinct chatter]

[buzzer sounds]

- What do you want?

- The niggers are
up to something.

- The niggers are always
up to something.

So are you.

- Now, look, I know there's
been a lot of shit between us

all over the years,
and we got to put that aside,

at least for now.

We got to be bound by
the one thing that joins

us all together:

the color of our skin.

- I am not gonna
listen to this shit.

Come on, Chris.
- Wait a second.

I want to hear what
he has to say.

- I'm Russian and I'm a Jew,

but I'm also white.

So, Schillinger, do you accept
me as a part of your group?

- Yes.

- Aw, fuck.

- Hold on, man.

Hold up. Here.

- Wangler,
what's up with you?

I mean, first you're
all buddies with Adebisi

and now you being
nice to me?

You been wanting to stick me
since Coyle got killed.

- Coyle is history,
you know what I'm saying?

I'm living in
the right now.

And what now is telling me

is that if we don't
get together,

we're gonna die apart.

♪ ♪

- All is going well.

- Things are bad.

- So what do we do next?

- So what do we do?

- We wait.
- We act first.

- An opportunity
will arise.

- At the first opportunity,

we let everyone know
that we're still in charge.

- Are you sure?

- I don't know.

- Yes.

- Trust me.

[tense percussive music]

♪ ♪

- Look, Schillinger,
would you tell those jerk-offs

in the mail room not to go
through my magazine?

- Part of the job.

We inspect everything
that comes into Oz.

- Look, inspect
is one thing.

Beating off
is another.

I pay top dollar
for "Hustler".

I don't want my pages
all stuck together.

- Keep moving.

[buzzer blares]

- Line up.

[inmates grumbling]

- What are we doing now?

- It's the holiday season,

so I try to be nice
and what do I get?

Place turns
into a shithole!

Garbage everywhere,
unmade beds,

turds in the toilet.

No more.

No fucking more.

You clowns
know the rules.

Emerald City is
supposed to be spotless.

Cleanliness is
next to godliness.

And so until this place
is up to my standards,

I'm gonna have to clear your
minds of the clutter.

I'm confiscating
all skin magazines.

- Get the fuck out of here.
- What?

[inmates arguing]

- Gentlemen. Hey, gentlemen,
you got a choice.

You can either
clean up your act

or you can kiss
the girls good-bye.

- Not that one, man.

- Hey, come on.
- Goddamn.

- This is what
I'm talking about,

what they do to us.

- Adebisi, what you
after, man?

You want another riot?

All it's gonna do is
get more brothers killed.

- See, we are
the majority.

- Yeah, but we
don't have guns.

- Some who wear uniforms
are still our brothers

and may be willing
to help.

- I'm gonna say this now.

You fucking crazy.

♪ ♪

- You're either one of us

or one of them.

♪ ♪

- Will he do it?

- I think yes.

[buzzer blares]

- What you got
there, Hill?

A trip to the Hole?

- I want a little
fucking skin.

It's bad enough the Governor got
rid of conjugals, and now this.

This is shit.
You are shit.

- All right, that's it,
in the Hole.

- What? Take me to the Hole!

- Again, and again,
and again!

First it's Wangler,
then Khan, and now Hill.

How many more of you
before you wake up?

We must not let this
brutality go unchallenged.

- The Koran tells us so.

"Permission is given
to those who fight

because they have
been wronged."

And, indeed, God is able
to give them victory.

- Why don't you finish
the quote, Arif?

The Koran is a book
of love, not hate.

It speaks to what is good
in all of us.

Allah knows no color.

You are using the words
for your own needs.

- My needs?

I suppose I
made up racism.

- Arif, I lived on
the same street you did.

I know what prejudice
tastes like.

I know what it is to walk into a
room and be the only black man.

Yes, you must right the wrongs
that have been done to us,

but not this way,
my brother.

- Then how?

- We try and
understand them.

- [laughing]

No white man
can truly understand

what it is
to be black.

- Nor us them.

The Koran says--

- Ah!

I don't give a shit

what your Koran says.

- What exactly do you give
a shit about, Adebisi?

- Justice,

just like you.

Set him free!

[all chanting]
Set him free!

Set him free! Set him free!

Set him free!
Set him free!

Set him free! Set him free!

Set him free!
Set him free!

Set him free! Set him free!
[alarm blaring]

Set him free! Set him free!

Set him free! Set him free!
- Shut the fuck up!

[all chanting]
Set him free! Set him free!

Set him free! Set him free!
- Shut the fuck up!

[competing chants continue]

- The SORT team is
in full readiness.

I've decided to keep
the entire prison in lockdown

for the immediate future.

I ask you to be careful

and be ready
for any possibilities.

That's all.

- I can't go through
this shit again.

- It's gonna
be all right.

- No.

I'm gonna take
my vacation time,

and if they don't let me
do that, I'm gonna quit.

- Diane...
- No.

I'm serious.
I will quit.

- You afraid, Murph?

- Yeah, sure.
- Yeah, me, too.

- Leo?

- Yeah?

- We can't hide behind
the badge anymore.

- What do you mean?

- All these years,
you've been in the system.

All these years,
you've worked for them,

caging in your own kind.

Don't you ever feel sometimes
like you've betrayed

your own people?

- No.

- No?

- [sighs]

The men who are locked in here,
they're not my people.

My people are the ones
who obey the law.

Go home, Clayton.

You're fired.

♪ ♪

- There's lots of folks who
think the world's gonna end

come the dawn of
this new millennium.

They think we'll see
the second coming of Christ,

the Apocalypse,
Armageddon, doomsday.

They've tied it all
to God's great plan.

But ask yourself, does
God know it's January 1st?

Does he have his watch
set for midnight?

And if he does,
which time zone is he in?

Man invented hours,
days, and minutes.

Man invented
calendars and clocks.

God's got his own timetable,
and it's stupid for us to think

that we can set it for him.

All we can do is
watch the clock run out

and hope for the best.

[buzzer sounds]

- Happy New Year.

- Yeah.

♪ ♪

- Happy New Year.

- Happy New Year.

- [speaking Russian]

- Happy New Years,
motherfucker.

- Eat me, you little prick.

♪ ♪

- [grunting]

- Happy New Years,
little brother.

[monitors beeping]

[reciting prayers quietly]

[dramatic tones]

♪ ♪

- A bunch of men sit in cells

on the brink of a new year,

a new century,

a new millennium,

1,000 years.

They stare into the future,

and all they see is themselves

in those same cells.

Black or white, here we are,

on the precipice.

We either hang on
or we fall off,

together or separately.

It's our choice.

It's up to us.

It's up to you and me.

[noisemaker blows]

Happy New Year!