Oz (1997–2003): Season 4, Episode 15 - Even the Score - full transcript

McManus can't turn his back on White. Beecher tells the parents of the girl he killed that he's up for parole. Howell tries to blackmail O'Reily so she can get to Cyril, but he throws her for a loop--and then O'Reily is thrown himself by a secret.

[bright tone]

[tense jazzy music]

- Ah, competition brings out
the best in people.

That's what they say.

When the game
is on the line,

a true sportsman
wants the outcome

to rest on his shoulders.

The logic being,
you make the winning play,

you walk away a hero.

Of course,
if you fuck up,

you're the goat.



The problem with
competition here in Oz is...

we mostly got goats.

[referee whistles blowing]

male announcer: Please welcome
a new contestant,

Joanie Kennedy.

And you are gonna
be helped by a man

who's done just about
everything, Bill Boggs.

How are you, Bill?
- Good to see you, Gordon.

- Okay, let's play the game
and the category is sports.

The question is this:

in basketball, Joanie,

what does it mean when
a referee makes this motion?

- He wants to do the Hustle?
[laughter]

- [sighs] Sorry,
I don't follow basketball.



I'm more into...
[unintelligible]

[tense music]

♪ ♪

- How you feeling there, Omar?

- [sniffs]

[sighs]
I'm feeling pretty good.

- Really?

I still feel all kinds
of aches and pains

from when you stabbed me.

- Well, you know,
I'm sorry about that.

- Oh, you're sorry?
- Yeah.

I'm sorry you didn't die.

- [laughing]

Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!

[laughing]

Whoa! Whoa!

Whoa!

♪ ♪

- Prisoner #96G522...
- Full of shit, man.

Motherfucker.
- Carmen Guerra.

AKA Chico.

Convicted June 4th, 1996,

murder in the first degree.

Sentence: 53 years.

Up for parole in '17.

- Yo, McManus.
I gotta talk to you, man.

Later.
- It's about your pet project--

Omar White.

- What about him?

- He's still a tit man.

- And you feel compelled
to tell me this

out of some need
to save his soul?

- Look, he shanked you
and he shanked me,

and it's only a matter of time
before he shanks someone else.

You shake him down,
you'll find drugs.

[gate buzzes]

- Shakedown!

[prisoners complaining]

[indistinct yelling]

Lookie, lookie.

- You ain't gonna find shit!

- Ooh!
- There you go.

- You fuckin' rat, Guerra.
- That's what you get.

- Ooh...

- Fucking cabron.
- Ah, fuck.

- Double play.
- Fuckin' asshole...

- Yellow rat,
motherfucking punk!

Bastard!
- Put Mr. Guerra in the cage.

Take Mr. White upstairs.

- Fucking yellow
rat bastard punk!

Pussy!

- Pussies.

- We had an agreement.

No drugs.
- I know.

- So tell me why I shouldn't
FedEx your ass

back to Solitary.

- There is no reason.

It's that when it come--
comes to tits,

I'm just a little shaky,
man.

I mean,
God knows I try.

I try.

But the temptation,

it just grows and grows...

till I can't help it.
I just...

I just gotta
shove that shit

where it don't belong.

- You really think
I'm a bubble head, don't you?

- Sir?
- Well, you make

that sorrowful face,

you say what you think
I wanna hear.

You're full of shit, Omar!

And you can try
my patience only so far.

Now, Sister Pete says
you've been inconsistent

about going to rehab.
- No, I--

- There is a session
at 1:00 today.

Fuckin' be there.

[tense percussive music]

- Let's go.

- The key--the key
is to fill the time

you would use doing drugs
with something else.

- Like busting McManus' ass
in basketball, okay.

[laughter]

- Yeah, well, activities
are good, but, I mean,

that doesn't change
one basic fact, you know.

You're not gonna quit
unless you wanna quit.

You know, you have to hit rock
bottom before you can crawl out.

- Why are you looking at me
when you say that?

- Well, I wasn't
saying it to you.

I was saying it
to the group.

- What, you... [scoffs]

You think you're better than me
'cause you quit and I can't?

- Omar...

- You ain't better than me,
you fucking punk-ass white boy.

Instead of snorting,
you've been sucking cock.

- That's enough, Omar!

- You wanna suck this,
motherfucker?

[indistinct yelling]

- Hey, hey, hey!

- Listen, listen!

[alarm buzzing]

- Got no game...
[unintelligible]

- What you gonna do,

come over here
and scratch me again?

- Yeah, motherfucker.
- Got you. Got you, Chapman.

You piece of shit.
- Poet, the greatest

of all time!

[laughs] Take care.

- As a rule, I don't
give up on people,

but this guy, Omar,
may be the exception.

- White!

- I know.
I fucked up again.

- Mm-hmm.

- All the bullshit aside...

I want...

I want to own my own mind.

- Look...

I don't know why
I think I can help you,

but I'm not giving up
on you, Omar.

You understand?
I'm not giving up.

- Thank you.

- Oh, you fucking bastard!

I hope you die in here,
you motherfucking bastard!

I hope you rot in hell!

You killed my baby!

- The parole board has set
the hearing for next Wednesday.

If all goes
according to Hoyle,

Tobias, you could be out of Oz
by the end of the month.

- Have Kathy Rockwell's parents
been made aware of the hearing?

- Probably not.

In most cases, it's the
responsibility of the victim

or the victim's family
to stay informed.

- Well, I want you
to tell them.

- That's not advisable.

If they ask to testify,
Kathy's parents

could sway the board
away from paroling you.

- Until my son was killed,
I never fully understood

what I've done
to those two people.

I can't go back into the world
knowing that I snuck out.

The Rockwells are as much a part
of my prison term as anyone.

They have a right
to be heard.

- Okay, I'll phone them.

But first,
before the parole hearing,

I'm going to ask them to
have an interaction with you.

- Katherine, I hope you
understand why I'm doing this.

- As a lawyer,
I think you're insane.

But as a mother...

I think
you got balls for days.

- Last time we saw each other,
Mrs. Rockwell,

I didn't say much.

- You didn't say anything.
- Yeah.

Well, that's because
I was on drugs,

and I was confused,

full of self-loathing.

- And now you've
forgiven yourself?

- No. What I did
to your daughter

will shadow me forever,

just as being in Oz will.

What's happened to me
in here...

Well, whether I've suffered
enough to satisfy you,

I don't know.

- When you were
sentenced to 15 years,

I was stunned.

15 lousy years doesn't equal
the lifetime my daughter lost.

You say you've suffered,

and I say I'm glad.

- When the lawyer came to
talk about my being paroled,

she said that because of
extenuating circumstances,

the board...

might look kindly on me.

- Why don't you explain
the circumstances?

- Since I've been inside,

my son was murdered

and my wife
may have been,

both as a result
of things I did in here.

[sighs] It's ironic that

I came to Oz walking across
the grave of your daughter

and I may leave walking across
the graves of my own family.

If they had lived,

I wouldn't have the chance
at going free.

- When I saw you
four years ago,

the pain of Kathy's death
was still so new.

Dave and I...

grieved and grieved
and grieved.

We still do.

But the sorrow
is balanced with joy.

We have another child,
Richard,

and he's growing up
to be remarkable.

We've come to believe
that even though

we don't understand
why Kathy's gone...

We accept her death
as part of some...

Wise plan.

I don't know
if you've suffered enough.

That's not up to me
to decide.

Only God can.

We will not interfere
with your parole.

- [inhales sharply]

- Vince Lombardi
once said that,

"Winning isn't everything,
it's the only thing."

But the one thing Lombardi held
in higher regard than winning

was character.

In fact, without character,
there'd be no victory.

Now, don't get me wrong.

Some of his players
would miss curfew,

cad around, get jiggy,

but they always knew
where to draw the line.

That's right.

A good man knows
where to draw the line.

Mm!

- Robson, you are
one ugly motherfucker.

- I don't see you modeling
in Milan, you black bitch.

- Hey, shut the fuck up,
I'm trying to masturbate!

- Fuck you, Alvarez!

- Quiet!
Warden's on deck.

- Yo, yo, Glynn.

Yo, I need an appointment,
motherfucker.

- Glynn,
you get me excited!

Why don't you hold my dick?

- We need to talk alone.

- Did you frisk him?
- Yes, sir.

- Okay.

- You actually think
I'd shank you?

- I have no idea what
you're capable of anymore.

- I'm stunned.

I mean, here you are,
a man feared by

all the prisoners in Oz,
afraid of me.

Wow.
- What do you want?

- I've decided to confess
to the murder of John Basil,

and I intend to ask
for the death penalty.

- So that you can die
a martyr.

- I've written
a manifesto...

I want published
the day I'm executed.

- Where'd you get the paper?
Officer Smith!

Under no circumstances
is this prisoner

to be allowed paper.
- Leo, it's--

- You wanna destroy
yourself, fine.

But I'm not gonna
make it easy for you.

- Goddamn motherfucker!

[laughing]

Oh, don't go away,
Uncle Tom.

Don't go away.
Don't leave me like this, baby.

Don't leave me like this!
Don't leave me like this, baby!

- Carl Jenkins is dead.

You got no case against me.

I want out of here,
Glynn.

I want out of here, Glynn!

I want out!

I want a fucking lawyer!

Get me fucking Said!

That's the lawyer I need!

You motherfucker!

Get me out of here!
[barking and growling]

- I don't want to release
Robson from Solitary

any more than you do,
but I got no choice.

Carl Jenkins
committed suicide.

A good defense attorney

could shoot holes
through his testimony.

And without his testimony,
we got no case against Robson.

- So you're gonna put him
back into Gen Pop

even though he masterminded
the death of Salah Udeen

and he has vowed
to kill me too?

- I'm afraid so.

Since we can't prove
Robson's guilt,

keeping him in Solitary
would be unjust.

- Now why is it
that justice

only works in
somebody else's favor?

[tense jazzy music]

♪ ♪

[gate buzzes]

Arif, help me.

I have such rage
inside of me,

rage unlike
I've ever known.

- You've always been able
to control such emotions.

- I don't think
I can do that much longer.

I feel like I'm possessed.

- Pray to Allah.
- Pray?

I pray and I pray
and nothing.

- Yo, sorry about what
happened to Leroy Tidd...

or Ooga Booga,

whatever the fuck
you call him.

- [screams]

Say nigger! You want to see
the nigger in me?

You want to see
the nigger in me? Ah!

[tense music]

♪ ♪

[screaming]

[tense percussive music]

♪ ♪

- Fucking... [unintelligible]
Motherfucker.

Fucking cock--motherfucker.

Fucking nigger!

- The Aryans
must be punished.

We will no longer
tolerate their actions.

From this moment on,
we are all on point.

Nobody goes anywhere
alone.

- Said's nigger ass
is in the hole.

Looks like Arif's in charge.
[men muttering]

These fuckers are more
pissed off than ever.

I want you guys to watch
each other's back.

Carry weapons
whenever you can.

- Payback time.
- This shit's gonna go down

real soon.

The fuck is this all about?

- Father Mukada
loaned me his office.

The Warden wants me
to speak with you.

He fears that there will be
an escalation of hostilities

between your people
and the Muslims.

Sit down, please.

- The hacks have good reason
to fear, Preacher.

So do you.

- [sighs] You feel that
I have wronged you

by getting Carl Jenkins
to testify against Robson.

But I assure you,
what I did,

I did in
the name of justice.

- No, what you did you did
'cause Robson got pissed

when you tried to turn me
into a psalm singer.

- Ohh, I never imagined
that you would convert.

I simply wanted you to know
a little joy in your life,

the birth
of your grandchild.

- Yeah, if she is
my grandchild.

You ever talk to that woman
in your congregation?

- Sarah, yes.

She and Carrie have had
numerous conversations,

and at no time did Carrie
say anything about

having been a prostitute.

- Sarah ask her directly?

- No.

- Well, then you've proved
nothing either way.

- When are you gonna
see this girl again?

- In an hour.

- Unless the Warden puts
the entire prison in lockdown.

If I could assure him that
at least for the time being

there will be
no immediate trouble,

maybe Warden Glynn
will reconsider.

- Got yourself a deal.

- Hi, Mr. Schillinger.

Ooh, what happened
to your face?

- Oh, nothing, it's fine.

- There we are,
all nice and dry.

Hey, you ready to
play with Grandpa? Huh?

- Yeah, that--that's okay.

- Something wrong?

- I'm gonna ask you
some serious questions,

and I want you to talk true.

- Okay.

- Put the baby down.
[baby cries]

- It's okay.

It's okay, Jewel.

Oh, sweetie.

- It's come to my attention
that you worked the streets,

hooking.

I can see it's true.

- Hank said we needed money--
- All right, I don't

wanna hear that part.

What's important is,
whose child is that?

She's not Hank's, is she?

You knew that the day
you showed up here!

- Mr. Schillinger,
I swear...

when the doctor told me
I was pregnant,

I counted backwards,

trying to figure out
who the father was.

On the day
the baby was conceived,

I had sex with
three different men, okay?

Two out-of-town
salesmen and Hank.

So the truth is,

I don't know
which one was the father.

I'm not sure.

Except, stare at her face...

Don't she look like Hank?

Don't she?

[tense jazzy music]

♪ ♪

- It's okay.

- Okay, Cloutier's
gotten Schillinger

to agree not to retaliate,

so he's gonna keep
his boy Robson in check.

I need your assurance that
the Muslims will cooperate.

- No.

- No. No, what?
You won't cooperate?

- No, I can't assure you
of anything, McManus,

least of all the good behavior
of my people...

or myself.

'Cause, you see,
what's been going on

has been going on
and will go on

till long after you, me,
and Schillinger are all dead.

- My only concern
is right now.

- Yeah, well,
that's not surprising

because you always
did take the short view.

- Ah, maybe you need
another couple days in here!

- Yeah, maybe I do!

- Fuck you.
- Go ahead, get out!

[crunching]
Oh!

- If athletes learned
to control their tempers,

to control their rage,

then hockey players wouldn't
do time in the penalty box,

basketball players wouldn't
draw technical fouls,

football players wouldn't
be penalized 15 yards.

Of course, if athletes
did control their rage,

nobody'd be interested
in sports.

The punching, choking,
kicking, biting, screaming.

That's what
the fans go to see.

[man screaming,
bone cracking]

- What are you doing?

It's 7:00 a.m. Game two
is not till this afternoon.

- Yeah, I wanted
to work on my shot.

I'm still haunted by
those fucking air balls

I threw up last game.

- Don't beat yourself up.

I mean, I couldn't
get much going, either.

- Yeah.

What do you think of Vahue?

- The guy's a stone bitch.

A strong, tough,
talented player.

- That's funny.

That's what I said about you.
- Huh?

- Well, maybe not
in those exact words.

A friend of mine's a scout
with the Sacramento Kings.

I told him about you.

Says he wants to take a look.

- A look?
- Yeah, today.

- Hey, yo, you got
them two dunks off the bat,

I was, like, oh, shit,
the fat lady's singing.

[laughter]

- Hey, yo, man, seconds.

And...
special stash.

- Oh, shit.

- [laughs] All right?

Hey, yo, man,
this guy Brass, man,

he's some fucking talent,
huh?

- Oh, fuck that.
- Nah, uh-uh,

that motherfucker can play.

I'm too big for him, though.
- Yeah, yeah.

- You know game two
gonna go like game one.

It'll stay close...

as long as I let it.

[laughter]

- You hearing this?

- Yeah, it's true.

Vahue's a wide body.

There's no way
to guard him.

There's no way for McManus
and Brass to win.

[indistinct chatter]

Hey, Vahue.

Go back and get your tray.

- Oh, I got that.
- Oh, no, no, no.

He buses his own tray.

- Yo, fuck that.

- Oh, shit!
- Back the fuck up!

Back the fuck up!

Back the fuck up!
Back the fuck up!

- Damn, you broke my knee!

- Well, say something.

- Vahue brought
the situation on himself.

We were by the book,
McManus.

- All right, let me know
if it's too tight.

- Is it my ACL?
- No, your ACL is fine.

It's just,
your knee's badly swollen.

You should stay off it
a few days.

- We'll push the game
back a week.

- Oh, 'cause you care
about me, right?

- No, I just want
your best game.

- What, you still think
you gonna win?

- You know, like I said,

the ball bounces
the right way, who knows?

- So you're telling me
I ain't got any damage?

- None that I can see.

- Then I'ma see you
in the gym, then.

Tell your boy,
bring his A game too.

[crowd cheering]

[Kid Rock's
"I Got One For Ya"]

- ♪ People always talkin'
what they gonna do ♪

♪ They must want their face
to maybe taste my shoe ♪

♪ I can't understand
all the push and shove ♪

♪ And what the f--- happened
to the peace and love ♪

♪ Who planted that glove,
man, I don't care ♪

♪ I'm too busy running fingers
through your mama's hair ♪

♪ I got no time for
the fakes and the phonies ♪

♪ The crooks and the creeps
and the cops and the cronies ♪

♪ Am I the only one
on my side ♪

♪ Test my pride, I bet
you'll run and hide ♪

♪ You think I'm weak, so
you're looking for the kill ♪

♪ But there's 16 shots
in my nine mil ♪

- ♪ I got one for ya ♪

- ♪ Uh-huh
- ♪ This is your shot ♪

- Yeah!
- ♪ I got one for ya ♪

♪ This is your shot ♪
- ♪ Jimmy-jimmy, jimmy-jimmy ♪

♪ Don't want to hear me cuss,
don't want to hear me brag ♪

♪ So I'm grabbing on my thingy
while I let my pants sag ♪

♪ Never been what I've written,
just writin' what I'm doing ♪

♪ They say they like my records
but they're still boo-hooin' ♪

♪ My joint's always tight,
my rhymes will floor you ♪

♪ Hey, Slime,
you wanna hit money? ♪

[laughs]

- ♪ I got one for ya ♪

♪ This is your shot ♪

♪ I got one for ya ♪
- ♪ Here it is ♪

- ♪ This is your shot ♪

[crowd chanting]
Bullshit! Bullshit!

[indistinct yelling]

- I like that.
[gate buzzes]

- Hey, Vahue.

Yeah, not.

- You fucking
let us down, Vahue.

- I had a lot of money
bet on that game, cocksucker.

[bell ringing]

- Tug, let me get the chair.

- Nah, man. I'm using it.

- No, for real, dude.
I need to sit down

and elevate this leg,
man, come on.

- [sucks teeth]

- Yo, I'm out, man.
- I'm with you.

- Hey, yo, Poet.

Look, man, at dinner,

how about I get some more
of that Gatorade?

- Man, I don't know,
Jackson, I don't know.

- I'm dehydrated, man.
I lost a lot of water today.

- I'll see what I can do,
but it's a tall order.

- Look, it's simple.

In three weeks,
I want you to come out

to our rookie camp.
- Oh, Jesus.

- No guarantees, but I think
you can make our club.

- Congratulations.
- Ohh.

- I gotta go.
Somebody from player personnel

will contact you.

And one last thing.

I don't want to tell you
not to play pick-up games

and, you know, this thing
you and Tim got going,

but use your head, all right?

All right, stay strong.
- [laughs]

I'll still play.
- I can't ask you to do that.

- I know how much you wanna
win that last game.

- I'll find someone else.

- Tim.
- I'll find someone.

- [grunts]

- Fuck.

- There he goes now,
the luckiest man on the planet.

- Lucky?
- Correction: formerly lucky.

The word's out, McManus.

That scout today
came to scoop up your boy.

He's on his way to the Kings.
- Mm-hmm.

- And without Brass,

you're gonna look
pretty fucking foolish.

I bet you'd lose by...

50, 60 points.

- Well, who says
I'm without him?

- I thought Dave Brass
wasn't playing.

- He's not.
- So what was that all about?

- I couldn't stomach
giving Morales the satisfaction.

I'll get it soon enough.

- Hey, Martinez.

- Hola, mi hermano.

- Hey, the Warden still
got you over in Unit B?

- Yeah.
- Excellent.

I need an ask.
- Ask.

- They said deep-baller Brass...
[whispering]

- Okay.

[shouting]

[blade slicing]

- [screaming]

Oh, shit! Fuck!

[all shouting]

Fuck!
- Easy, easy, easy!

Stay there. All right,
all right, I got you.

Easy, easy! God damn it,
I said--why's he still there?

- Where's Brass?
- The ambulance just left.

He needed surgery.
- Aw, fuck!

How bad was he?

- On the big scale of things,
he's gonna be just fine.

- But?
- But Dave's done

with basketball.

His Achilles tendon
wasn't just severed.

A chunk of it was missing.

He'll be walking funny
the rest of his life.

- [sighs]

[gate buzzing]

- What you want?

- How does it feel?

- How does what feel?

- Being the one who
snitched to the hacks,

who kept us
from greasing

Morales, Pancamo,
and the rest,

who kept us from
taking over the drug trade?

Oh, no, no, no, no.

Come here, come here,
come here.

Listen, Burr Redding
says you get to live

'cause you and he
got history.

But he ain't gonna
be around forever, bro.

And when he die...

you die.

- Let the man go, son.

- Oh, you want something?

- What's up, nigga?

- You know,
much as I'd like to watch

the two of you
whack each other,

the smart thing to do
is walk away.

- Yeah. Later.

- Oh, you know it.
[bell ringing]

This is all I'm saying,
Augustus.

You ain't got no friends...

Except me.

[tense jazzy music]

♪ ♪

- The plan's working?

- Yeah.

Morales and Pancamo
think I'm their slave.

- Burr Redding thinks
I'm his most loyal soldier.

- When we're done,
they'll all be dead.

And we'll be
running things our way.

I have to admit, Tug...

I was kind of surprised
when you tapped my shoulder,

me being the one that greased
your brother and all.

- When I shanked you
and you didn't die,

I knew you had balls.

- It doesn't take a genius
to figure out

that Tug Daniels
is a traitor.

- Mm, I always had
my suspicions.

- What are you gonna
do about him?

- Well, I believe that every man
deserves a fair trial...

Before he's executed.

[tense jazzy music]

♪ ♪

This court
is now in session.

- Fuck you!

- Tug Daniels, you're being
accused of the three disses:

disloyal, dishonest,
disrespectful.

- How do you plead?

- Man, if y'all gonna
take me out,

just fucking
take me out, man.

Stop the bullshit, all right?

- You've been seen fraternizing
with Supreme Allah.

- Man, I only let that fool
think I was with him, man.

Soon as I killed you,
him and Hill was dead meat.

- The prosecution rests.

- You got any defense?
- Yeah, I got a defense.

You're killing me for the same
crime you let Hill walk on.

You're getting old, Burr.

Getting soft.
Can't go the distance no more.

- Silence!
- Yo, with me in charge,

you motherfuckers
would be running Oz.

- Pay attention to what
I'm fixing to tell you.

It is the decision
of this court

that you have
been found guilty.

- Man, kill this old pussy,
not me!

- Therefore,
I hereby sentence you...

- [gagging, struggling]

- To death.

Throw his ass back there
behind the cafeteria.

Stick him in
the garbage dumpster.

Move it!

[gate buzzes]

- What the fuck?

Oh, shit!

Hey, Officer Robinson, yo.

You might wanna
come check this out.

Ouch!

- Central, this is 16.

We got a 44 in the cafeteria.

Lockdown!
Lockdown!

- Tug Daniels is dead.

- Move it, move it!

- Our days
are numbered, bro.

Me and you ain't careful,

we're gonna end up
like Tug Daniels.

[alarm buzzing]

- Let's go. Let's go!

- More and more these days,
you pick up a newspaper

and some athlete's name
is in the headline.

Not on the sports page,

but for getting into trouble
with the law.

I'm never surprised.

The adrenaline it takes
to be a superstar

is the same as the rush
you feel committing a crime.

When the game's over,
it's hard to put a cap on that,

hard to go back
to being ordinary.

- I am so sick of hearing
about fucking death row.

- Governor.
- I see you're fully recovered.

- And I can see
how much that pleases you.

All right, let's get
down to business.

I've had extensive talks
with the attorney general,

and here's how
the situation lays out.

According to the law,
Giles is within his rights

asking to be
stoned to death.

The fucking anti-death
penalty group

that's suing us
will probably win.

We'll appeal.

The case will eventually land
at the State Supreme Court,

where God knows what
those buttheads will decide.

- You appointed half of them.

- Thanks for reminding me.

So, instead of plodding
through all that muck,

we've decided that it's simpler
if you, Sister Peter Marie,

declare Giles
mentally incompetent.

- What?

- I'll commute
his sentence to life

and we'll ship his ass over
to the Connelly Institute,

where he can blubber
till he dies.

Meanwhile, I'll have
the legislature

rewrite the capital
punishment law,

limiting
the prisoners' options

to lethal injection
and electrocution.

- I won't do it.

I won't say that
William Giles is insane.

- Why?
- Because he's not.

- Leo, now would be a good time
for you to jump in.

- Peter Marie, this solution
would make the problem go away.

- The problem will go away

when the death penalty
goes away.

Now that there's DNA,
every other week--

every other week--

there's another horror story
of some innocent man

almost being put to death.

The Governor of Illinois
has put a moratorium on--

- George Ryan is an asshole!

And if I wanna
debate this issue,

I'll go on
"Meet the" fucking "Press"!

You're not the only shrink
in town, Sister.

If you won't say he's crazy,
I'll get someone who will.

[gate buzzes]

- Hello, William.

- Peter--Peter Marie.

- How you doing?
- Moses...

Dead.

Lonely.

- I'll bet.

You know, it's lonely
out here too.

Your life,

the lives of hundreds
of other men and women,

in the hands of
lawyers and politicians.

I feel so...

[sighs] Powerless.

- Noisemaker.
- Yeah, that's me.

Blowing horns
and banging pots.

And yet,
nothing has changed.

[bell ringing]

- Us...

pray...

God.

- Well, we do have that,
don't we?

Yes, William.

Us, pray...

God.

- The State Supreme Court,
in a 5-4 decision,

declared the four-year-old
capital punishment law

to be unconstitutional
based on the case

of an inmate at the
Oswald Correctional Facility

who asked to be
stoned to death.

The justices declared
such an execution

would be cruel
and unusual punishment,

[cheering]

- Governor, they said that
you're going back and forth.

- My support for the
death penalty is unwavering.

However, the public's reaction
to this incident

indicates that we should take
this opportunity to step back.

We must consider not only
the means by which

we determine
such a sentence,

but the ways in which
we implement it.

I am, therefore,
putting together

a non-partisan committee

to re-examine all aspects
of the death penalty.

[reporters shouting questions]

- Hey, Giles, what's going on?

I thought
you were halfway to dead.

- No, alive, alive!

[softly] Alive.

[gate buzzing]

- Hey, Officer Murphy,
I don't feel so hot.

- What's the matter now?
- Throat's sore.

- Jeez, you know, you been
getting sick a lot lately.

- Yeah, this winter weather,
it's killing me.

- Uh-huh.
Well, I got news for you.

Dr. Nathan's not in today.

- No?
- How do you feel now?

- I want to go see my brother
in protective custody.

- What a shock.

- In my opinion, calling someone
a deadbeat dad is unfair.

I mean, I would have sent
the money to my kids,

but I knew that bitch would
spend my hard-earned cash

buying clothes for herself
or that cocky kike asshole

she's been living with.

- Ryan!

- Hey, Cyril.

How you doing, brother?

Okay?

- When--when
can I leave here?

When can I come back
to Emerald City?

- I don't know.
You know, Dr. Nathan promised

that she'd help us out,
but she's gone.

So as soon as
she gets back,

we're gonna work on
getting you out of here.

God, this place sucks, man.
I know you're lonely.

- Not so lonely.

Now that Henry's here.

- Hiya.

My name's Stanton,
Henry Stanton.

You're Ryan, right?

Cyril's told me
all about you.

- [chuckles]

What'd you say?
- Oh, nothing incriminating.

- Well, that's good,
you know,

'cause I figure a guy's
in protective custody,

then, well,
he must have, what?

Ratted out his friends?

- No. No.

Some Aryan threatened to
separate me from my genitals.

So the Warden
thought a time-out

might ease the tensions.

- Don't be telling
nobody our business, okay?

- I don't. Henry's nice.

- I like your brother--
- Hey!

Henry, do you mind?

I'm trying to have a
private conversation over here.

- Hey, knock yourself out!

[gate buzzes]

- Oh, Jesus.

What do you want?

- Just because
we're not fucking anymore

doesn't mean
we can't still be friends.

- Yeah, right.

- I hear they're shipping your
brother off to the looney bin.

- Yeah, because
of you accusing him

of attacking you
without provocation.

- I was being neighborly,
he hit me with a tray.

- Neighborly?

Yeah, right.

- Here's the deal:

I'll tell the Warden
not to send Cyril away

if you tell Cyril
he should let me fuck him.

- What?

- I wanna fuck your brother.
- Uh-uh, no chance.

I don't want you going
anywhere near my brother.

- Okay.

But if I don't
get anywhere near him,

you won't get
anywhere near him either.

- You know what, Howell?

You're one sick,
fucking bitch.

- [kisses]

- Deputy Dawg.
[howling]

- O'Reily.

It's about time.
I'm famished.

- Things are pretty quiet
in Unit J these days, huh, man?

- Well, Basil dead,
Hughes in Solitary,

just me
and Her Highness.

- You don't like Howell?

- It's like being shackled

to the Bride of Frankenstein.

- Hey, Alvin, old pal.

How'd you like
some extra vittles?

I'm talking
chocolate bars,

Newman's Own popcorn
for that microwave of yours?

- Sure.
- All you have to do is

just, you know,
make sure that Howell

has a little accident.

- Oh, I'm no killer.

- No, no,
I'm not saying kill.

I'm talking
a busted leg, arm,

just something to
take her out of commission

for a week or two.

- You about done, O'Reily?

- Oh, yeah, I'm done.

[howls]

[tense music]

♪ ♪

- Ah!

Maybe I got lucky
and she's dead.

Help. Help.

Help! Help!

Help!

- What's up?
- Howell broke her pelvis.

- Oh, sweet.

- Yeah, she'll be
laid up for a while.

- Oh, I'm just crying
invisible tears.

[gate buzzing]

How's your new cellmate?

- Oh, Connolly's an ass.

Says I'm not true Irish.

- He tried to pull that
same line of shit with me.

Don't worry,
he'll come around.

- Yeah.
- Hey, Liam,

check out a guy
named Henry Stanton.

He's down in protective
custody with Cyril.

- No problem.

- [grunting]

- Stay down.

Stay down!
- Hey!

What the fuck
is going on here?

- Keep away, O'Reily.
It's none of your concern.

- I see two pussy Bible belters
wailing on a fellow Catholic?

Yeah, it's my concern.

- Hey, come on,
motherfucker.

- I'm not gonna swing on you,
Burns, not yet.

I got God on my side.

- Kirk, you meet me
in the library.

Burns, I will
talk to you later.

My apologies, sir.

- I'm beholden to you.

- First you had
Samuel Gougeon beaten,

now Padraig Connolly,
both against my wishes.

- I am doing the Lord's work
in the best way I know how.

- When you came to me
and you asked to convert,

I thought you meant you wanted
to put those ways behind you.

But I can see now
that I was wrong.

You are no longer a member
of my congregation.

- What?
- I cast thee out.

- You can't.
- Let me go.

- Please.
- Let me go!

[gate buzzes]

- 1972, 14 Catholics
were slaughtered.

- What did they do?

- They committed the hideous
crime of walking down a road.

My mother ran out
onto the street

and grabbed the neighbor's son
out of the stampede.

The entire time,
a British soldier

was holding an L1A1
to her head,

yelling at her
to get back.

But she didn't.

And he fired.

- Oh, shit.

- We call that day
Bloody Sunday.

[gate buzzes]
- Well, it's visiting time.

I gotta go.
- Who's coming?

- My mom.

- You treat
your mother right, Ryan?

- We've been separated
since I was a baby.

We only just
found each other.

But, yeah,

I treat her right.

- I know you wonder
why I left,

and each time
I've come to visit you,

I've wanted to tell you
the whole story, but...

- I mean, tell me now.

- The '60s
were a mixed-up time.

We were living in a cold water
flat near the university.

And while I did what
wives did in those days,

outside, the streets
were on fire with protests.

- The Vietnam War.
- Yeah.

I would carry you
out into the crowd

and listen
to the speeches.

And then one day,
something just clicked

and I had to join.

So I had to leave.

- Yeah, but why didn't you
take me with you?

- Well, because my friends
fought for peace.

We armed ourselves.

We were militant.

- And someone got killed.

- Yeah, and I ran,
and I kept running.

- Jesus.

- And so,
now after 35 years,

I've decided to stop
the marathon.

I'm gonna turn myself in.

- But what'll hap--

- I don't know
what'll happen to me,

and I don't know
if I'll go to prison.

But I wanted
to see you again

and spend a few hours
with you

and get to know you
a little before

whatever happens
does happen.

- No, no!

No, I--no.
I can't lose you now.

Not after all these years.

Fuck that!

Don't give yourself up.

- I have to, Ryan.

I'm no good to you unless
I'm true to who I am.

- Fuck.

Look...

I wasn't gonna tell you this,

at least not yet.

What if I told you I can fix it
so we can be together?

- What do you mean?

- A friend of mine is gonna
help me and Cyril escape.

- No, Ryan, don't do that.

- Why the fuck not?
- Because...

you'll have to spend
the rest of your life

doing what I've done.

Hiding and lying

and living in fear
and denying who you are.

And that's a life
without meaning.

And a life without meaning
is no life at all.

[gate buzzes]

- Visit's over, O'Reily.

- Mom.

- You called me Mom.
[laughs]

I love you, Ryan.

I always have and...

I always will.

both: Bye.

[tense music]

♪ ♪

- Bad news.

The Attorney General
has circumvented

the law of asylum.

- You saying
we've lost the fight?

- Your deportation
has been ordered.

A week from today, you'll be
standing before a British judge.

- Once I get there,
I'll not get a fair trial.

I'll hang.

- I know.

- [screaming]

- You admit
to murdering him

even though you know
I could tell the Warden

that you confessed,
and you'd probably

end up on death row?

- Yes.

both: Hey.

- How's Cyril?
- Oh, he's a little anxious

to get out
of protective custody,

but he's okay.

Hey, did you...

did you give
any more thought to--

to what we talked about?

- Any thought?
Your little proposition

had me sleepless
for three nights.

- And what
have you decided?

- Here.

- Why are you
giving me this?

- Ten minutes ago,
the Warden asked me

if I knew anything
about Keenan's death.

- What?
- I lied and said no.

- Oh, man, thank Christ.

- Ryan, as we speak,
the medical board

is deliberating whether or not
I'm qualified to hold this job.

They're questioning
my ethics, okay?

My initial reaction was,
how can they do that?

But you know what?

Now I'm questioning
my ethics.

- Look, love is more
important than ethics.

- Well, now, how would
you know that?

I mean, your ethics--
what few you have--

are completely screwed up.

- Whoa, why the fuck
are you doing this?

- I should tell Leo

that you beat
Keenan to death.

I should do it...

But I won't.
God help me.

- Hey, Gloria--

- I am not gonna
help you escape.

Do you understand that?

I will not do it.

And if you
ask me again,

I will tell the Warden
everything.

Officer,
we're done here.

- I do have ethics...

and they're not screwed up.

[tense jazzy music]

♪ ♪

[gate buzzes]

- What do you want?

- I've been on the computer
reading about the troubles.

It's not at all about God.

It's about the money.

It's about the Protestants
taking Catholic land.

How could you
not hate the British?

I mean, if you got
any balls at all,

then you'd better be IRA.

You know, fighting
for what's rightfully yours.

- And what good does
your newfound knowledge

and all this enthusiasm
do for either of us?

- I wanna be part of something,
something that matters.

Don't laugh at me, Connolly.

Hey, everyone knows
I get things done.

That's my talent.

Let me help you do
something for the cause.

Hmm?
Something for Ireland?

- All righty.

I know what we should do.

[bell ringing]

- Hey.

Two gallons of bleach.
- Good.

All your whites
are clean.

So you gonna tell me now

why you needed this stuff
so bad?

- Can you get me
a wristwatch?

- A wristwatch?

Why?

[yells]

Connolly, what the fuck
are you doing?

- Would you be willing
to die with me?

Would you?

The bleach and the wristwatch
are part of my grand scheme.

- Which is what?

- To make a bomb.

You and me, O'Reily,

we're gonna
blow up Emerald City.

- What?

- In any sport,
to experience victory,

the one element you need more
than any other is teamwork.

But teamwork is also
the scariest notion

a person can face.

Joining a team means giving up
part of your individuality,

being willing to make whatever
sacrifice is necessary

for the greater cause.

If you're willing to do
these things,

to truly become
a team player,

then success will follow.

But a word of caution:

be sure that the success
you go after...

Is the success you need.

[referee's whistle blows]