Oz (1997–2003): Season 5, Episode 7 - Good Intentions - full transcript
Hill's recovery leads to renewed friction between Redding and Morales, Alvarez gets his wish as the 'Man's Best Friend' program is finished and Meehan presents some revolutionary ideas to help Cyril.
[TV static drones]
[bright tone]
[tense jazzy music]
♪ ♪
- The road to Hell is
paved with good intentions.
Now, there's a mind fuck
if I ever heard one.
The good side of my will
is the road to damnation.
Fuck, why even
try being good?
And if good intentions
take you to the Lake of Fire,
where do
bad intentions lead?
Oz.
- Nino, please,
you don't understand.
I didn't mean it,
I did the best I could.
- Hey, Doc,
Dr. Nathan.
Can't you shut him up?
He blabbed all night,
I couldn't sleep.
- You're well enough
to be discharged.
Transfer Shupe
back to Em City
and give Pancamo five milligrams
of Haldol twice a day.
- Hey, Gloria.
- Hey.
Chucky Pancamo's
delirious.
- So what else is new?
- That's not funny, Tim.
- Hey, the paperwork
said that Augustus Hill
was being transferred
back here today.
I'd don't see him.
- Yeah, he's still
in pretty bad shape.
I put him
in a private room.
- Okay, thanks.
[machinery beeping]
How you feeling?
- Like shit.
- Yeah, you came pretty close
to killing yourself.
You wanna
tell me why?
- I wasn't trying
to kill myself.
- You had massive amounts
of heroin in your system,
which made you get a little
sloppy with your catheter
which resulted
in renal failure.
You may not have been trying
to consciously kill yourself,
but the result was
pretty much the same.
- My mom's died,
wife deserted me.
All of a sudden the walls in Oz
got too high and too thick.
- Augustus,
who gave you
the drugs?
- It don't matter.
- It does to me.
- Look, what I did,
I did.
Ain't nobody else
gonna suffer.
- Salvatore DeSanto is brain
dead from a drug overdose.
I suspect Burr Redding
is responsible.
I suspect he thinks
DeSanto sold you the drugs.
- He didn't.
- That's all the more reason
for you to tell me who did.
- I want to talk to Burr.
- No.
- McManus, please.
- No.
- You got a message
for Burr Redding,
I'm your AT&T.
Salvatore DeSanto didn't
sell Augustus the drugs.
- What?
Then who did?
- Well, he wouldn't
tell me.
- He'll tell me.
- Why, so you can feed
that guy LSD?
See, I don't
have any proof,
but I got a feeling you're
the one that fucked DeSanto up,
and I'm not gonna
give you an opportunity
to fuck
someone else up.
Officer!
Escort this
gentleman out.
[tense percussive tones]
- Where's Busmalis?
- Why?
What's up?
What's up, man?
- You said DeSanto
sold those drugs to Augustus.
- Yes.
- You lied.
- No.
- Why'd you lie,
Busmalis?
- Well, I...
- Who you protecting?
Guerra?
- Guerra.
Yeah, Guerra
made me lie.
- Why?
- I don't know.
Maybe he sold the drugs
to Augustus.
- All right,
get out of here.
- We need to have a sit-down
with Morales.
Morales...
Did Guerra
give Augustus those drugs?
- No.
- You lying.
- Know what, Redding?
You and me,
since we made peace,
we've had
a good thing going.
Don't blow it
by being an asshole.
- Motherfucker.
Who the fuck you think
you're calling an asshole?
- What the fuck do you
think you're doing?
[both struggling]
[tense percussive tones]
- John and Jane Doe
decided to go on a diet,
eat better, get healthy,
live longer.
What could
be wrong with that?
Well, studies now show that
the stress John suffers from
trying to lower
his cholesterol
can do as much harm
as cholesterol itself,
that the stress can actually
raise his cholesterol.
And take those low-fat,
no-fat products.
Shit's loaded with sugar
to make it taste better.
So while Jane's trimming down,
she's jacking up her blood sugar
and risking diabetes.
Bottled water.
What the fuck could
be wrong with that?
The bottles,
my friend.
1.5 million tons of plastic
are used for them each year,
which means more toxic gases
in the air we breathe.
So by going all natural,
we're actually
killing ourselves,
killing the whole
fuckin' planet.
[gate buzzes]
- Look at O'Reily,
he's been there all day.
- He's waiting for the
verdict on Cyril's murder trial.
The jury's still
deliberating.
- Think he'll
get convicted?
- I hope not.
I like Cyril.
I'd hate to see him
sent off to death row.
- Ryan, what news?
- Nothing; the lawyer says it
could be a couple of days
before the jury comes back
with a verdict.
I just--
you know,
I just wish I was
with Cyril in solitary,
because I know
he's scared,
and I don't think he's got
a clue as to what's going on.
- Good.
- What's good?
- Well, the less aware
he is of things,
the better chance we have of
overturning a guilty verdict.
- I don't follow--
what?
- I'm not going to
let Cyril die,
not without
one hell of a fight.
- What do you care
about my brother for, huh?
What fuckin' business
is it of yours?
- Just because
I'm a prisoner
doesn't mean I've stopped
being a priest.
Cyril is one of God's kids.
Therefore it's--
- Hey, Meehan, yo, yo,
you know what?
Stay the fuck
away from me, all right?
The last thing
I need right now is hope,
so just fuckin' beat it.
Get the fuck
out of here.
What are you, deaf?
[gate buzzes]
- O'Reily, come with me.
- Where?
- Jury's in.
- Oh, take that.
- Ryan.
- Oh, Christ.
- I'm sorry.
We're going to appeal.
- A lot of fuckin' good
that'll do.
Hey, you okay?
- Sure.
- Kiss Jericho.
- Yeah, Cyril, I--
- Kiss him.
He misses you.
- When's sentencing?
- It's Thursday.
I'll plead for clemency
because of his mental state.
- Don't.
- Why not?
The judge--
- I'm responsible
for his decisions, right?
I say no appeals,
no clemency.
Now leave us alone.
- Is there a problem,
Ryan?
- No...
Just the opposite.
You're getting
out of here, kid.
You're gonna be free.
- Why would you want
your brother to die?
- Look at our lives.
- We were beaten as kids,
ignored,
in and out of juvie
all the time.
Then Cyril gets his brains
smashed in,
and we're stuck in this shithole
for the next 90 years.
- Nothingness
is better
than a lifetime in Oz.
- Once he's gone,
he's gone forever,
and you will have to live
every day with the part
you played in that.
- Believe me, I accept
everything I've done
to screw up
Cyril's life.
I can carry this.
- No.
No, you won't
be able to.
- And what makes you
say that?
- Because I know you,
Ryan.
- What?
You think you know me?
Because we sit around
and we jaw,
you got me
all figured out?
Is that it, huh?
Well, let me
tell you something, Ma,
even if you'd been
in that house my whole life,
you wouldn't have
a fuckin' clue
who I am!
- Ryan.
- Let me out of here.
- Ryan?
- The only way
to win this case on appeal
is in the court
of public opinion.
- In 1989, the Supreme Court
ruled that executing
the mentally retarded
was not a violation
of the Eighth Amendment,
because there's no
national consensus
against such punishment.
- So we have to demonstrate
in court now
that there is
a consensus
that even Americans who
believe in the death penalty
find these
particular executions
to be cruel
and unusual punishment.
- We need to get
the media aroused.
- Sister, can you get out
a press release
to the effect that
it's impossible to determine
the extent of Cyril's
culpability?
I mean, he knew he did
something wrong, but he--
he has no sense
of the gravity.
- Okay, but a press release
isn't enough.
We should hold
a press conference.
I want to make it clear
that I was never able
to discuss the specifics
of the case with Cyril,
that he did not actively
participate in his own defense.
- Father Meehan...
Do you really think
we can pull this off?
- The law is like
God Almighty himself,
it moves
in strange ways,
so we have to keep nudging it
toward a more merciful outcome.
[gate buzzes]
- Hey, everybody,
check it out, Shupe's back.
Let's give him a hand.
[applause]
- You're a regular
Chris Rock there, O'Reily.
- What can I say?
It's a talent.
- Speaking of talents,
you made a deal with us.
We'd hurt Shupe if
you'd airhole Jia Kenmin.
- Well, I never said
I'd do the deed myself.
- I'm gonna find someone to do
it who the COs can't blame.
- Who?
- The COs themselves.
- I hear justice
has been served.
Your brother's gonna die
for whacking Li Chen.
My only wish...
is that you'd been in court
the day I testified.
Li Chen,
he was a good man
who wouldn't hurt a flea.
I even choked back
a fuckin' tear.
I was brilliant.
- Hey, Wonton.
[both grunting]
- Get off him.
Get off him now.
- Fuckin' cocksucker.
- Back off.
[yelling, indistinct chatter]
- Son of a bitch!
[gate buzzes]
[all yelling at once]
- You're gonna
be fine.
How you feeling?
- Sore.
How's Jia?
- I didn't even
get to see him.
The COs threw him
directly into solitary.
- It's not nice
to hit the hacks.
- Well, given his
previous concussion,
I'm a little
worried.
- Don't be.
It's better for all of us
if Jia goes back
into another coma.
- I'll get someone
to take you back.
- I'll take him.
Appreciate what you
did today, O'Reily.
- If you guys hadn't
gotten there when you did,
that Chink would've
snapped my fuckin' neck.
I was just
returning the favor.
Yeah, Jia, man,
he's got some set of balls.
He's always talking about
what pussies you hacks are.
- Yeah?
Well, he's got
a lesson coming.
He'll learn.
Hey, Jia.
How's the head?
- Fuck you.
- See, I would call that
an act of aggression.
- Ow, Jesus!
[all struggling, grunting]
[gate buzzes]
- You happy with
what you did?
- What'd I do?
- Got your revenge
on Jia Kenmin.
- That motherfucker
came at me.
- I saw otherwise.
- Hey, keep your
fuckin' mouth shut.
- You wear that
cross of gold.
Why?
Do you believe
in the Risen Christ,
or is it
just a bobble?
What happened to you
when you were a child?
What made you walk away
from the church?
- I didn't walk away.
I ran.
- Why?
- When I was a kid
and all this shit was
going down in our house,
my dad was wailing
on us non-stop,
so I went
to our pastor.
I had a welt on my back
the size of this fist,
so I asked the good Monsignor
if he could please
talk to my dad and ask him
to stop beating on us.
He said if my dad hit us,
it was because we were bad
and we deserved
to be punished.
Then he told me
to go home
and "honor thy father".
- There are bad priests,
but there are lots
of good ones too.
Your priest wasn't there
for you, but I am.
I'm here for you,
and I'm here
for your brother.
- No, it's too late,
Father.
It's too
fuckin' late.
[tense percussive tones]
- John and Jane Doe,
both looking slim and sexy,
meet, fall in love,
decide to get married.
John buys a nice fat diamond
for Jane's finger.
Sweet,
except for the fact
that people in Africa
are living in shit because of
those precious little stones.
Men are dying every day
in dangerous mines.
Men are dying every day
in civil wars
fought to control
the diamond trades.
Anyway...
John and Jane
get married,
start pumping out
the kids.
Shit, even God told
Adam and Eve
to be fruitful
and multiply,
but now we've multiplied
to the point of plague,
6 billion
and counting.
Suddenly, my cell
don't seem so cramped.
[gate buzzes]
- I don't know how
I'm gonna give Julie up.
Huh?
I had a kid once,
died.
It fuckin'
nearly crippled me.
I ain't felt love
since then...
until now.
- You know that CO
that you blinded?
- Eugene Rivera?
- Yeah, is he gonna
get your dog?
- Well...
He said he don't
want any part of anything
that had
to do with me.
- Have you ever seen these
babies fight for sport?
[growls]
- I've seen roosters.
I haven't
seen dogs, though.
- It's fuckin' brutal,
man.
Three rounds of
absolute mayhem.
Dogs are just rippin'
each other apart.
- Jesus Christ,
fuckin' stop!
- [chuckles]
I'm sorry.
[gate buzzes]
- Hey, Penders,
Alvarez,
what's this?
- Beats me.
- It's dog shit,
dickhead.
- How can you be sure
that a dog did that?
- Who else shits
on the floor?
- Guerra.
- That's funny.
Clean it up.
- No.
- No?
- No.
- Clean the fuckin'
shit up.
- Lopresti, why you always
on my fuckin' ass?
- Because I'm tired of you
and your fuckin' pooch.
- At least Chester
doesn't have bad breath.
- [chuckles]
- [grunts]
[tense percussive tones]
men: Ohh!
- Shit.
[all yelling at once]
- Chester, now,
Chester!
[dog snarls, barks]
[all shouting at once]
- Yes. Yes, Chester.
- Damn!
- It's a shame
what Penders did,
teaching Chester
to attack.
He put a shadow
over the whole program.
- Yeah, you know,
he really loved the dog.
He just
fuckin' hates people.
- Let her take you
up the stairs.
- What else?
- Have her sit.
- Julie, sit.
Good girl, and?
- Now take off
your blindfold.
- I pass?
- Yes, A+,
gold star,
great job.
- Thanks, she did
all the work, you know?
- And she'll continue
to do so, thanks to you.
- You know what I wish?
I wish I could
just see
whoever's gonna
get her, you know?
- Well, Miguel...
You're gonna
get your wish,
because that person is gonna
be here in just a second.
- Who's that?
- McManus has been working
the phones all morning, and--
- Oh, shit.
I thought
he didn't want her.
- Tina didn't.
Well, neither did I
at first.
Look, I love my wife
and everything
she's done for me,
but she deserves
her life back.
I mean, I know this dog
would be great for me,
but I think...
Over time it would
be great for her too.
- That's good.
Cool.
This is Julie,
and I trained her
special for you, man.
- Special?
- What do you normally
speak at home?
- Spanish.
- Now make believe
you're at home right now
and ask for her.
- Julie?
Ven aca.
[tense percussive tones]
- You taught the dog
Spanish?
- Yeah, yeah.
Every command,
she's fuckin' bilingual.
Tell her to sit down.
- Julie...
Sientate.
[tense percussive tones]
- She's all yours.
Te voy a echar de manos.
- Come on,
I'll drive you home.
- Let's go.
[tense percussive tones]
- Well, congratulations, Tim,
you're two for two.
Both the music program
and the man's best friend
has had tangible
and positive results.
- Hear, hear!
- Thank you.
You know, I just want
to tell you both
that I appreciate
your support,
as guarded and as
half-ass as it's been.
- Ouch.
I was wondering what happened
to that backhand of yours.
Oh, I gotta go.
I'm due over
at Lardner.
Leo, Timmy.
- Well...
There certainly has been
a thaw in your icy relationship
with the governor's office.
- Huh?
- If I didn't know better,
I'd say you had a liaison
with the state liaison,
if not last night,
then very recently.
- Yeah, I gotta go too.
- Okay, Timmy.
- 51.
- Yeah, Jesus Christ,
I fucking won!
- That winning
ticket was mine, damn it!
Have I got
any legal recourse?
- No, no.
I mean, even if
we could find him,
it's Dave Brass' word
against yours.
I mean, he's a CO injured
in the line of duty,
you, a prisoner,
known to talk to God.
- That bastard!
He should be arrested
for killing my grandson.
- Alex Jr.'s only chance to beat
the leukemia is to find a donor,
someone willing
to give his bone marrow.
- I know.
But I thought because of
his unique ethnic mix,
a match was difficult.
- The difficulty is
that no one is looking.
There must be
someone out there.
- Or here.
I'll bet if you
search the computer files
of every prisoner in Oz,
past or present,
you'd get a match.
- Well, why don't I?
- What?
- Search the files.
- You'd do that for me?
- For you,
for your grandson,
for Dave Brass,
for my own
peace of mind.
[gate buzzes]
- Martinez.
I hear they're shipping your ass
back to solitary.
- Yeah.
- Listen, I could
help you out.
A word from me
and you're sitting in Unit B,
maybe even
Emerald City.
- Yeah?
And why would
you help me?
- You douced Dave Brass
for no apparent reason.
Only I'm thinking
you had a reason,
and I'm thinking
if you tell me,
that's maybe when
I can step up for you.
- I got nothing to say.
- You attacked a CO,
Carlos.
Where you're going,
you've got no friends.
- [grunting]
- If you don't get smart,
you're gonna fuckin' hurt
a lot more than you do now.
[tense percussive tones]
Martinez is cracking.
We're so close to him
jabbering all the names
of everybody involved.
And my guess is
Enrique Morales tops the list.
- Yeah, good, none of that's
gonna do much good
for Rebadow,
though.
I mean, even if we find Brass
and tell him who cut him,
he's not going to give
that lottery money back.
Yes.
Yes, yes.
Got it.
- Got what?
- Salvation.
Farai Gyrobile is
a Rastafarian from Unit C.
Now, it turns out
that him and Bob Marley
have more in common
than just reggae.
Both of them
have white fathers.
- And was his mother
half West Indian,
half Guatemalan?
- Yeah, so he appears to be
the perfect match
for your grandson.
Now all you've gotta do
is convince him
to be the bone marrow
donor.
- May I talk
to this man alone,
prisoner to prisoner?
- Of course.
Good luck.
- Farai,
Bob.
Bob Rebadow.
- The guy who got aced
out of the 2 million
Mightyball dollars.
- Yes, you see...
I needed to win that money
on account of my grandson.
He's dying
of leukemia.
- Pity.
- Which is why
I need your help.
Alex has a...
Very specific racial makeup
which you match exactly.
- How the fuck you know
what makes me up?
- McManus told me.
And I was hoping
you might be willing
to donate your bone marrow
to my grandson.
- McManus has no right
sharing that shit with you!
Everyone here thinks my blood
be black, 100%.
I fuckin' donate,
and they all
know different.
And if you tell a soul,
you're as dead
as your grandboy.
- No, wait.
- I'm sorry, Alex.
I tried.
[tense percussive tones]
God spoke to me
last night.
- He told me that
the missing element
in Alex Jr.'s recovery
is faith.
- Uh-huh.
- Not money,
not science.
I want to find
a faith healer,
someone who will go
to my grandson in the hospital,
lay hands on him,
flush out the leukemia
once and for all.
- I see.
- You're wary.
- What little I do know
of faith healers
gives me pause.
A lot of people
expecting a miracle...
get deception instead.
- Okay.
So you don't
choose the bruised fruit.
You look carefully.
- For whatever
it's worth,
the kind of people
you're talking about
are not typically
sanctioned by any church.
- Sister Pete,
I didn't say
religious healer,
denominational healer.
I said faith healer,
the faith that
alone transcends all
cultural divisions and systems.
Aren't you sick of
the club mentality
surrounded by members
of other clubs,
who belongs to what
and which one
has the upper hand on God?
I mean no offense,
but I don't want to belong.
I just want
to believe.
- So what happens next?
- I wait for
instructions.
I wait for the word.
I am an arrow
in God's bow.
[tense percussive tones]
[gate buzzes]
- How long has he got?
- What?
- Your grandson,
how long has he got?
- Who are you?
- A.R. Whitworth.
How long has he got?
- I don't know,
only God does.
- Good answer.
Now we're talking.
- About what?
- Faith healing,
right?
- How do you know that?
- Would you believe
that last night
I dreamt that your grandson
was restored to perfect health?
- Maybe.
- Go on.
- All right.
I was born a gimp,
spinal shit,
impossible to fix.
When I was
in high school,
found out that my neighbor's
a faith healer,
born with
X-ray vision.
She denied it for years,
said it embarrassed her.
Then she goes
and heals a friend
and the word spreads.
All this time,
right next door to me.
I was pissed off at first,
to tell you the truth.
But she's the real deal.
No showbiz shit.
- But you still
limp a little.
- Just started
bothering me again.
But still, it's better
than what it used to be.
God may hold the key
to your grandson's health,
to heal him,
but he's holding a key
inside the boy.
Regina can turn it.
- Absolutely not.
- Sarah, listen to me.
- I have listened to you.
There will be no strange woman
doing some sort of séance
or voodoo
over Alex Jr.'s bed.
I will not
have it.
- Put aside your prejudices
for a moment,
take Mother
and go meet her.
- No.
There is no way I'm going
to dangle that kind of carrot
in front of a terminally ill
10-year-old.
The boy is
too fragile.
Say it doesn't work,
Robert.
What then?
We tell him that God
didn't love him enough?
- I don't want
little Alex to die.
- We're waiting
and praying
for a bone marrow
transplant.
- Waiting and praying,
waiting and praying.
What about doing,
God damn it?
- Cool down, Rebadow.
- Step back,
this is a family matter.
I want to stand on a mountaintop
and curse our idiotic,
modern small-mindedness,
our lame,
civilized methods
of surviving sickness.
Hospitals are the summit
of human potential?
Bull-fucking-shit!
- Are you finished?
- No.
I'll find someone else
to visit Regina for me.
- Who?
The only reason you called me
instead of Alex or Sophie
or Mother is because you knew
that they would need convincing.
No, there is no one
in our family
who is going to let that strange
woman into Alex Jr.'s room.
- You can't do this.
- Yes, I can.
You know what I see?
I see a man trying
to redeem himself
in the eyes
of his family,
making a last-ditch effort
after decades of absence.
See?
Sometimes I have
X-ray vision too.
- Why?
Why open this door
just to close it in my face?
Be healed...
In the name of God.
- Our Lady of Fatima Church
and its rectory next door
were burned to the ground
this evening,
killing two priests.
Also injured was
Father Raymond Mukada,
who suffered
from smoke inhalation
and is in serious condition
at Benchley Memorial Hospital.
- I don't want
to hear anymore, Seroy.
You're going
to solitary.
- Warden, wait.
What if I give you
some intel?
Will you give me
a reprieve?
- What kind of intel?
- About Father Mukada.
What if I tell you the fire
at Mukada's church
was requested
by a prisoner
here at Oz?
- Who?
- Uh-uh.
Not till
we have a deal.
- Clarence Seroy is
a lying sack of shit.
- Funny, that's what you said
when Jaz Hoyt implicated you
in Jim Burns' murder.
- I'm innocent.
- No, you're a guilty
little prick
who's finally gonna
take responsibility
for the shit storms
you created.
- You've got
no hard-core evidence
that either
I set up the arson
or was involved in
Hoyt killing Burns.
It's still their word
against mine.
- Think you got
the system beat, huh?
Well, I've been around
a lot longer than you, Kirk.
Ray Mukada is
a friend of mine.
He's lying
in a hospital
and that's
pissing me off.
Pissing me off royal.
It's your testimony
vs. Kirk's.
He claims to have had nothing
to do with Burns' murder.
He says you're lying.
- I'm on death row
for chrissake.
Why would I lie?
- What we need
is another witness.
One of your biker buddies
has got to come forward.
- They do that,
they end up here.
- Not necessarily.
If they didn't participate
in the crime,
I give him
a free pass.
All your buddy's
got to say
is he heard Kirk
propose the murder to you.
- Done.
[tense percussive tones]
- Timothy Kirk,
you are hereby charged with
the murder of James Burns.
- What?
- My friend Max here
just corroborated
Jaz Hoyt's version
of the truth.
Put Kirk in solitary
until the trial starts.
- No.
- Murder one, death row.
- No, I didn't--
he who comes in with vanity
shall go out in darkness.
I'm sorry.
- And his name shall be
covered in darkness.
He shall
never see the sun.
- No!
- And finally, I'm happy
to announce that Ray Mukada
will be released
from Benchley Memorial
tomorrow afternoon.
[applause]
- When's he coming
back to work?
- Well, the doctors aren't
sure yet, but we hope soon.
Okay, that's all.
Peter Marie...
You haven't said a word to me
since our little discussion
about Peter Schibetta.
- "Little discussion"?
You know, Leo, when you
decided not to resign,
I was thrilled.
But since then,
you've become
intransigent.
Keller can't
see Beecher,
Schibetta, Alvarez.
It seems like when you get
an attitude about some guy,
boy, you just don't
want to hear anything else.
And I don't
work that way.
- Speaking to Dr. Nathan
really helped me.
Hearing her thoughts about
being raped helped me
to feel not so alone.
- Oh, that's great.
That's good.
- So what's the next step?
- That's up to you.
I would like to schedule
a session with your wife.
- I'm--I'm not ready
to face her yet.
- All right.
And perhaps you should
think about interacting
with the men
who attacked you.
How do you feel
about that?
- No.
No way.
I'm no rat.
I'm not gonna
give up any names.
- Why would you want
to protect them?
- I didn't say
I'm protecting them.
- You're going
to get revenge?
- I didn't say that,
either.
- Peter--
- Just let it go.
- Okay, for now.
I want to ask you
one more thing.
What's your relationship
with Warden Glynn?
So there is bad blood
between you.
- Maybe we need to let
that go too, Sister.
Yeah, let that go too.
[tense percussive tones]
- Hey, Petey...
Nice ass.
[tense percussive tones]
- John and Jane
raise their kiddies
to be decent citizens,
teach them the laws
of political correctness,
teach them
to respect other races,
genders, body shapes,
beliefs.
But think about it.
Doesn't making our children
too aware of the differences
plant the same seed
of separateness?
Are we blinding
little Jane and John Jr.
so that they only see
what makes us different
and not what
makes us alike?
- Hey...
Feeling better?
Those painkillers are
fuckin' with your brain.
You've been sitting
there for two days.
You don't talk,
you don't eat with us.
Not to mention you got me
worried about this gum shit now.
Can't tell if
they're recessive or not.
- Take a hike, girls.
- Yes, sir.
- Vern.
- Yeah.
- I don't know
who the donor was,
where that fuckin' dentist
got the gum tissue from,
whose cadaver.
Could be anyone's.
- Get the fuck
out of here.
- The shit's anonymous,
stored in some fuckin'
freezer somewhere.
How am I supposed
to know to ask?
Don't look at me
like that.
- When exactly
did this come up?
- When I was whacked on gas
and under the knife.
That scum-sucking
towelhead,
he's fuckin' with me
in the middle of surgery.
- Christ Almighty.
Is it normal color at least,
the gum tissue?
- I don't know.
I haven't looked.
- You haven't looked?
You haven't paid a
little follow-up visit
to Dr. Faraj
to find out?
- He won't be in again
until Thursday.
Listen, nobody
hears about this,
especially not
in the Brotherhood.
[tense percussive tones]
- So, Vern, am I right
in deducing
that the reason
I drove 80 miles
to hear this
pathetic story
is because you don't know
what effect James Robson's
little dental dilemma
is going to have
on his standing
in the Brotherhood?
- Yes, sir.
- And because you care
about this Robson,
he's your friend.
- Yes, sir.
- Well, let's see
if you can answer
some of your
own questions here,
and we'll see if my trip
was worth the time.
Define purity
for me, Vern.
You see, I'm not concerned
about James Robson.
I never did care
much for the boy.
His type joins us
more out of
an identity crisis
than true faith.
- Sir, with all
due respect,
Robson has
proven himself.
- With all due respect,
Vern, I don't give a shit.
What does concern me is you,
that your convictions
will falter in this
embarrassing situation,
that you will overlook
Robson's infection
because the two
of you are...
close.
- We don't know
anything for sure yet.
Robson's gonna find out
the truth as soon as he can.
- Just remember,
a little leaven
leavens the whole loaf.
That goes
for you as well.
And next time,
spare me the road trip.
Use the fuckin'
telephone.
- Yo, by the way,
I got James Robson
over in Unit B.
Last night he was asking me
if I can get him a copy
of your schedule
this week.
There...
some sort of nastiness
going on between you two?
- What did he say?
- Nothing.
He was just
all on edge,
in a darker mood
than most days.
You look kind of
freaked out yourself.
- Shit.
Shit, shit, shit.
[tense percussive tones]
- Quitting?
As of when?
- Today.
- Today?
Jesus, Tariq
a little advanced notice
would have been nice.
- Leo, I didn't
see it coming, really.
- You can't give me the rest of
the week to fill your slot?
- Look, I'll finish
out my shift,
and then that's all.
Here, these are
some contacts
that could probably
help you out.
- First Cochern,
now you.
Why can't I hold onto
a dentist around here?
- I'm sorry, Leo.
- Bullshit!
- Yeah, I guess so.
Do me a favor.
Spread that around.
And don't tell anyone
where you heard it,
okay?
- [laughing]
- Faraj should
be in by now.
I'm gonna corner
him after lunch.
I guess you don't wanna
talk much until then,
is that the deal?
- Hey, I'm not handling
this any different
than the next guy would,
so just give me
a fuckin' break, all right?
- Just soup.
- Sure you don't want no
chitlins and gravy
to go with
that?
[laughter]
- What?
- Shall we?
[pots and pans banging]
Everyone, listen up.
Robson here
went to the dentist
and got himself a nice pair
of dirty ghetto gums.
[laughter]
- Thanks, Vern.
- I didn't
say a fuckin' word.
Shut up,
you goddamn nigger.
Just give him
some soup.
- Whoa, you gonna
take that, G,
man calling your brother
a nigger and all?
Hey, don't get stupid.
Don't want me to Sammy Sosa
that jaw with this here spoon.
- Keep it moving, girls.
[tense percussive tones]
- I need to see
Dr. Faraj.
My mouth
is killing me.
- You poor baby.
- Follow me.
[gate buzzes]
- Dr. Faraj, hi.
Now, who's the fuckin'
donor, huh?
- I have a wife.
I have kids, please.
- Don't make me
fuckin' slip.
- No, no, he was white.
He was like you, man.
He was just your age.
- Prove it.
Call the fuckin' lab
or whatever.
- I'll prove it.
I'll prove it.
Okay, just please
go get--
get me my address book
from--
from other there, okay?
[blow lands]
- [grunts]
- He wasn't white,
I made sure of that.
- Fuck!
- What's done is done.
Officer!
He attacked me.
Must be his gums
acting up.
[tense percussive tones]
- [moaning]
- Now, you all know
how highly I've esteemed...
James Robson,
but the past,
unfortunately,
is nothing more
than the past.
Satan has scored
a very ugly victory,
and it pains me that
Robson is a casualty.
We must, nevertheless,
abide by our principles,
not our feelings.
As of today,
James Robson is no longer
a part of the Brotherhood.
[tense percussive tones]
- [heavy breathing]
- Hello, Chris.
- Sister.
You're gonna have to
talk in this ear.
This other one doesn't
work too good anymore.
- Yeah, Dr. Nathan
says the hearing loss
may be permanent.
- Eh, that'll give me a real
excuse for ignoring people.
- She also says
you'll be sent back
to protective
custody tomorrow.
- Just in time
for my trial.
- How do you
like your new lawyer?
- I think I'm gonna lose.
- How do you
feel about that?
- Angry.
I don't wanna end my days
on death row.
- I'll pray for you.
- Do you think
Jesus was a fag?
- What?
- You think Jesus
was a fag?
It's a legitimate
question.
- Are you trying
to provoke me,
mock my religion?
- No, just looking
for a role model.
Jesus was divine
and human,
simultaneously, right?
Did the divine part
control his sexual appetites?
And if so,
what chance have I got?
I'm not divine,
far from it.
I mean, all my life,
anytime I've
gotten the urge,
I've stuck my cock
into any cavity
that was open
and available.
That's what's led me
to this point in time,
this precipice of death.
If I'd have
been celibate,
do you think
I'd have been happier?
- We fight our natures,
Chris.
- Why?
God gives us natures,
why?
What, for us
to fight them?
- It proves
we're better than animals.
- I guess I failed
that test.
- You shouldn't
think that way.
- What, sister?
I can't hear you.
[gate buzzes]
- I see the Aryans have
snatched your friend Adam.
- Yeah.
It's my fault.
- How so?
- I...
I don't want to go into
all the gory details, but...
I delivered Adam
into Schillinger's hands.
- Why?
- Because Schillinger could
arrange for me to see Keller.
- Beecher...
- The irony is
I didn't see Keller.
He was sent to
Benchley Memorial
before I could get
to protective custody.
- So to satisfy
your desires,
sexual or otherwise,
you...
sacrificed a boy.
- I was convinced that
Adam deserved to get raped.
You know, he raped that girl,
he attacked me.
But when I saw him
in the gym, I...
[tense percussive tones]
I realized that no matter
what Adam had done,
no one deserves that.
[sighs]
My guilt is
devouring me.
- So it should.
- What can I do to make
peace with myself?
- [chuckles]
Well, I could
tell you,
but you wouldn't
want to hear it.
- Go on.
- This calamity was brought on
by your need to see Keller,
so the only way for you
to punish yourself
is by you denying
yourself Keller.
- You mean
don't see him.
- That's right.
- Ever again?
- That's right.
- Christ.
- If you are
truly sorry, Beecher,
that's what
you must do.
[gate buzzes]
- I want to transfer
to another work detail.
- You transferred to the
mailroom not even a week ago.
- Yeah, I'm not enjoying it
as much as I thought I would.
- Is there trouble
with Schillinger?
- No, I just realized
that pushing a cart around
isn't the best use
of my talents.
- Well, Sister Peter Marie's
already replaced you.
- I know.
- The only opening's
in the women's dress factory.
- Fine.
- So wait a second.
Sewing hems on women's dresses
is a better use of your talent?
Don't fuckin'
bullshit me.
What's going on?
- Nothing.
- All right, all right.
This is a prison,
not an employment agency.
We try
to accommodate people,
but we can't always.
Now, you asked to work
in the mailroom.
Until you give me
a legitimate reason
why you can't,
you stay
in the fuckin' mailroom!
Go!
[tense percussive tones]
- I have a special delivery
for Dr. Nathan.
[tense percussive tones]
[knocking]
- Can I help you?
- Where's Sister Pete?
- In a staff meeting.
- You're that sheriff
from Unit J, right?
- Alvin Yood, yeah.
- Yeah, I'm Tobias Beecher.
- Hey.
- I used to have this job.
- And you gave it up?
Nothing personal,
but you're a dolt.
- Look, when Sister Pete
gets back from her appointment,
can you give her this note
and tell her to make a meeting
with Adam Guenzel?
He's in Unit B, and I think
he needs somebody to talk to.
- About what?
- She'll know
when she sees him.
- Okay, I'll give her
your message.
- Thanks, so long.
- Hey, Beecher,
don't take any wooden nickels.
[gate buzzes]
- How you doing, Adam?
- What do you care?
- Look, I'm sorry
I let them rape you, okay?
But it's this place,
you know.
It got my head
all fucked up.
- [sighs]
Mine too.
- We gotta be there
for each other, bro.
- Why?
You want to borrow
my lipstick.
- Guenzel, Sister Peter Marie
has requested your presence.
- What for?
- My guess: to Saran wrap
your brain.
- Hey, prag, come here.
You listen up.
You don't jabber
one fuckin' word to her
about what
we done to you.
- Yes, sir.
- And clean that shit
off your face.
- So that's it.
You have nothing
else to say.
- No, ma'am.
- Tell me about your
relationship
with Tobias
Beecher.
- I don't have a relationship
with Beecher.
- We shared a cell in Em City,
that's all.
- What about when
you were both outside?
- Our families were friendly,
but he's, like,
10 years older than me.
We never hung out
or anything.
- What if I told you
that he's very
concerned about you?
- I'd tell you
he's a lying cocksucker.
I'm sorry for swearing.
- I've heard worse.
Why is he a liar?
- He knows why.
- You don't want
to tell me?
- Ask him.
- Normally, my role in these
sessions is to mediate,
to referee, but...
Today I'm gonna be
a little more aggressive.
Our subject
is Adam Guenzel.
I had a meeting
with Adam Guenzel
when he first
came to Oz.
Since then,
his behavior patterns
have changed significantly.
Clearly he has
been abused sexually
and I suspect that the three
of you know the details.
Tobias?
- He was raped,
gang raped
about a week ago.
- By whom?
- [coughs]
- I'm not investigating
this as a crime.
I just want
to help the boy.
Vern.
- I don't know what
you're talking about.
- Said,
can you shed
any light on this?
- No.
- Fine.
But I want you to know
that I am not
letting this pass.
I'm going to be seeing
Adam Guenzel every single day
until I can get him
to open up,
until he can tell me
exactly what happened.
This session is closed.
I am sick
of sitting
in the same room with you.
- Adam Guenzel has
become a liability.
- You think he'll blab
to the nun?
- Uh-huh.
Hey, prag,
get in here.
[tense percussive tones]
- Yes, sir?
- I've got good news.
We're gonna
help you escape.
[gate buzzes]
[tense percussive tones]
- Beecher,
I've got some news.
Adam Guenzel is dead.
- What?
- They just
found his body.
Evidently he was
climbing the fence,
he was attempting
to escape.
He got
past the barbed wire,
but then the fence...
- He was electrocuted.
- 4,000 volts,
straight through him.
- Fuck.
- I'm sorry.
[tense percussive tones]
[laughter]
- So...
that road to Hell that's
paved with good intentions--
I'm not saying
to make a detour,
only that before
you make your first step,
consider the consequences.
Because good
can turn to bad
in the blink
of a fucking eye.
[tense jazzy music]
♪ ♪
[bright tone]
[bright tone]
[tense jazzy music]
♪ ♪
- The road to Hell is
paved with good intentions.
Now, there's a mind fuck
if I ever heard one.
The good side of my will
is the road to damnation.
Fuck, why even
try being good?
And if good intentions
take you to the Lake of Fire,
where do
bad intentions lead?
Oz.
- Nino, please,
you don't understand.
I didn't mean it,
I did the best I could.
- Hey, Doc,
Dr. Nathan.
Can't you shut him up?
He blabbed all night,
I couldn't sleep.
- You're well enough
to be discharged.
Transfer Shupe
back to Em City
and give Pancamo five milligrams
of Haldol twice a day.
- Hey, Gloria.
- Hey.
Chucky Pancamo's
delirious.
- So what else is new?
- That's not funny, Tim.
- Hey, the paperwork
said that Augustus Hill
was being transferred
back here today.
I'd don't see him.
- Yeah, he's still
in pretty bad shape.
I put him
in a private room.
- Okay, thanks.
[machinery beeping]
How you feeling?
- Like shit.
- Yeah, you came pretty close
to killing yourself.
You wanna
tell me why?
- I wasn't trying
to kill myself.
- You had massive amounts
of heroin in your system,
which made you get a little
sloppy with your catheter
which resulted
in renal failure.
You may not have been trying
to consciously kill yourself,
but the result was
pretty much the same.
- My mom's died,
wife deserted me.
All of a sudden the walls in Oz
got too high and too thick.
- Augustus,
who gave you
the drugs?
- It don't matter.
- It does to me.
- Look, what I did,
I did.
Ain't nobody else
gonna suffer.
- Salvatore DeSanto is brain
dead from a drug overdose.
I suspect Burr Redding
is responsible.
I suspect he thinks
DeSanto sold you the drugs.
- He didn't.
- That's all the more reason
for you to tell me who did.
- I want to talk to Burr.
- No.
- McManus, please.
- No.
- You got a message
for Burr Redding,
I'm your AT&T.
Salvatore DeSanto didn't
sell Augustus the drugs.
- What?
Then who did?
- Well, he wouldn't
tell me.
- He'll tell me.
- Why, so you can feed
that guy LSD?
See, I don't
have any proof,
but I got a feeling you're
the one that fucked DeSanto up,
and I'm not gonna
give you an opportunity
to fuck
someone else up.
Officer!
Escort this
gentleman out.
[tense percussive tones]
- Where's Busmalis?
- Why?
What's up?
What's up, man?
- You said DeSanto
sold those drugs to Augustus.
- Yes.
- You lied.
- No.
- Why'd you lie,
Busmalis?
- Well, I...
- Who you protecting?
Guerra?
- Guerra.
Yeah, Guerra
made me lie.
- Why?
- I don't know.
Maybe he sold the drugs
to Augustus.
- All right,
get out of here.
- We need to have a sit-down
with Morales.
Morales...
Did Guerra
give Augustus those drugs?
- No.
- You lying.
- Know what, Redding?
You and me,
since we made peace,
we've had
a good thing going.
Don't blow it
by being an asshole.
- Motherfucker.
Who the fuck you think
you're calling an asshole?
- What the fuck do you
think you're doing?
[both struggling]
[tense percussive tones]
- John and Jane Doe
decided to go on a diet,
eat better, get healthy,
live longer.
What could
be wrong with that?
Well, studies now show that
the stress John suffers from
trying to lower
his cholesterol
can do as much harm
as cholesterol itself,
that the stress can actually
raise his cholesterol.
And take those low-fat,
no-fat products.
Shit's loaded with sugar
to make it taste better.
So while Jane's trimming down,
she's jacking up her blood sugar
and risking diabetes.
Bottled water.
What the fuck could
be wrong with that?
The bottles,
my friend.
1.5 million tons of plastic
are used for them each year,
which means more toxic gases
in the air we breathe.
So by going all natural,
we're actually
killing ourselves,
killing the whole
fuckin' planet.
[gate buzzes]
- Look at O'Reily,
he's been there all day.
- He's waiting for the
verdict on Cyril's murder trial.
The jury's still
deliberating.
- Think he'll
get convicted?
- I hope not.
I like Cyril.
I'd hate to see him
sent off to death row.
- Ryan, what news?
- Nothing; the lawyer says it
could be a couple of days
before the jury comes back
with a verdict.
I just--
you know,
I just wish I was
with Cyril in solitary,
because I know
he's scared,
and I don't think he's got
a clue as to what's going on.
- Good.
- What's good?
- Well, the less aware
he is of things,
the better chance we have of
overturning a guilty verdict.
- I don't follow--
what?
- I'm not going to
let Cyril die,
not without
one hell of a fight.
- What do you care
about my brother for, huh?
What fuckin' business
is it of yours?
- Just because
I'm a prisoner
doesn't mean I've stopped
being a priest.
Cyril is one of God's kids.
Therefore it's--
- Hey, Meehan, yo, yo,
you know what?
Stay the fuck
away from me, all right?
The last thing
I need right now is hope,
so just fuckin' beat it.
Get the fuck
out of here.
What are you, deaf?
[gate buzzes]
- O'Reily, come with me.
- Where?
- Jury's in.
- Oh, take that.
- Ryan.
- Oh, Christ.
- I'm sorry.
We're going to appeal.
- A lot of fuckin' good
that'll do.
Hey, you okay?
- Sure.
- Kiss Jericho.
- Yeah, Cyril, I--
- Kiss him.
He misses you.
- When's sentencing?
- It's Thursday.
I'll plead for clemency
because of his mental state.
- Don't.
- Why not?
The judge--
- I'm responsible
for his decisions, right?
I say no appeals,
no clemency.
Now leave us alone.
- Is there a problem,
Ryan?
- No...
Just the opposite.
You're getting
out of here, kid.
You're gonna be free.
- Why would you want
your brother to die?
- Look at our lives.
- We were beaten as kids,
ignored,
in and out of juvie
all the time.
Then Cyril gets his brains
smashed in,
and we're stuck in this shithole
for the next 90 years.
- Nothingness
is better
than a lifetime in Oz.
- Once he's gone,
he's gone forever,
and you will have to live
every day with the part
you played in that.
- Believe me, I accept
everything I've done
to screw up
Cyril's life.
I can carry this.
- No.
No, you won't
be able to.
- And what makes you
say that?
- Because I know you,
Ryan.
- What?
You think you know me?
Because we sit around
and we jaw,
you got me
all figured out?
Is that it, huh?
Well, let me
tell you something, Ma,
even if you'd been
in that house my whole life,
you wouldn't have
a fuckin' clue
who I am!
- Ryan.
- Let me out of here.
- Ryan?
- The only way
to win this case on appeal
is in the court
of public opinion.
- In 1989, the Supreme Court
ruled that executing
the mentally retarded
was not a violation
of the Eighth Amendment,
because there's no
national consensus
against such punishment.
- So we have to demonstrate
in court now
that there is
a consensus
that even Americans who
believe in the death penalty
find these
particular executions
to be cruel
and unusual punishment.
- We need to get
the media aroused.
- Sister, can you get out
a press release
to the effect that
it's impossible to determine
the extent of Cyril's
culpability?
I mean, he knew he did
something wrong, but he--
he has no sense
of the gravity.
- Okay, but a press release
isn't enough.
We should hold
a press conference.
I want to make it clear
that I was never able
to discuss the specifics
of the case with Cyril,
that he did not actively
participate in his own defense.
- Father Meehan...
Do you really think
we can pull this off?
- The law is like
God Almighty himself,
it moves
in strange ways,
so we have to keep nudging it
toward a more merciful outcome.
[gate buzzes]
- Hey, everybody,
check it out, Shupe's back.
Let's give him a hand.
[applause]
- You're a regular
Chris Rock there, O'Reily.
- What can I say?
It's a talent.
- Speaking of talents,
you made a deal with us.
We'd hurt Shupe if
you'd airhole Jia Kenmin.
- Well, I never said
I'd do the deed myself.
- I'm gonna find someone to do
it who the COs can't blame.
- Who?
- The COs themselves.
- I hear justice
has been served.
Your brother's gonna die
for whacking Li Chen.
My only wish...
is that you'd been in court
the day I testified.
Li Chen,
he was a good man
who wouldn't hurt a flea.
I even choked back
a fuckin' tear.
I was brilliant.
- Hey, Wonton.
[both grunting]
- Get off him.
Get off him now.
- Fuckin' cocksucker.
- Back off.
[yelling, indistinct chatter]
- Son of a bitch!
[gate buzzes]
[all yelling at once]
- You're gonna
be fine.
How you feeling?
- Sore.
How's Jia?
- I didn't even
get to see him.
The COs threw him
directly into solitary.
- It's not nice
to hit the hacks.
- Well, given his
previous concussion,
I'm a little
worried.
- Don't be.
It's better for all of us
if Jia goes back
into another coma.
- I'll get someone
to take you back.
- I'll take him.
Appreciate what you
did today, O'Reily.
- If you guys hadn't
gotten there when you did,
that Chink would've
snapped my fuckin' neck.
I was just
returning the favor.
Yeah, Jia, man,
he's got some set of balls.
He's always talking about
what pussies you hacks are.
- Yeah?
Well, he's got
a lesson coming.
He'll learn.
Hey, Jia.
How's the head?
- Fuck you.
- See, I would call that
an act of aggression.
- Ow, Jesus!
[all struggling, grunting]
[gate buzzes]
- You happy with
what you did?
- What'd I do?
- Got your revenge
on Jia Kenmin.
- That motherfucker
came at me.
- I saw otherwise.
- Hey, keep your
fuckin' mouth shut.
- You wear that
cross of gold.
Why?
Do you believe
in the Risen Christ,
or is it
just a bobble?
What happened to you
when you were a child?
What made you walk away
from the church?
- I didn't walk away.
I ran.
- Why?
- When I was a kid
and all this shit was
going down in our house,
my dad was wailing
on us non-stop,
so I went
to our pastor.
I had a welt on my back
the size of this fist,
so I asked the good Monsignor
if he could please
talk to my dad and ask him
to stop beating on us.
He said if my dad hit us,
it was because we were bad
and we deserved
to be punished.
Then he told me
to go home
and "honor thy father".
- There are bad priests,
but there are lots
of good ones too.
Your priest wasn't there
for you, but I am.
I'm here for you,
and I'm here
for your brother.
- No, it's too late,
Father.
It's too
fuckin' late.
[tense percussive tones]
- John and Jane Doe,
both looking slim and sexy,
meet, fall in love,
decide to get married.
John buys a nice fat diamond
for Jane's finger.
Sweet,
except for the fact
that people in Africa
are living in shit because of
those precious little stones.
Men are dying every day
in dangerous mines.
Men are dying every day
in civil wars
fought to control
the diamond trades.
Anyway...
John and Jane
get married,
start pumping out
the kids.
Shit, even God told
Adam and Eve
to be fruitful
and multiply,
but now we've multiplied
to the point of plague,
6 billion
and counting.
Suddenly, my cell
don't seem so cramped.
[gate buzzes]
- I don't know how
I'm gonna give Julie up.
Huh?
I had a kid once,
died.
It fuckin'
nearly crippled me.
I ain't felt love
since then...
until now.
- You know that CO
that you blinded?
- Eugene Rivera?
- Yeah, is he gonna
get your dog?
- Well...
He said he don't
want any part of anything
that had
to do with me.
- Have you ever seen these
babies fight for sport?
[growls]
- I've seen roosters.
I haven't
seen dogs, though.
- It's fuckin' brutal,
man.
Three rounds of
absolute mayhem.
Dogs are just rippin'
each other apart.
- Jesus Christ,
fuckin' stop!
- [chuckles]
I'm sorry.
[gate buzzes]
- Hey, Penders,
Alvarez,
what's this?
- Beats me.
- It's dog shit,
dickhead.
- How can you be sure
that a dog did that?
- Who else shits
on the floor?
- Guerra.
- That's funny.
Clean it up.
- No.
- No?
- No.
- Clean the fuckin'
shit up.
- Lopresti, why you always
on my fuckin' ass?
- Because I'm tired of you
and your fuckin' pooch.
- At least Chester
doesn't have bad breath.
- [chuckles]
- [grunts]
[tense percussive tones]
men: Ohh!
- Shit.
[all yelling at once]
- Chester, now,
Chester!
[dog snarls, barks]
[all shouting at once]
- Yes. Yes, Chester.
- Damn!
- It's a shame
what Penders did,
teaching Chester
to attack.
He put a shadow
over the whole program.
- Yeah, you know,
he really loved the dog.
He just
fuckin' hates people.
- Let her take you
up the stairs.
- What else?
- Have her sit.
- Julie, sit.
Good girl, and?
- Now take off
your blindfold.
- I pass?
- Yes, A+,
gold star,
great job.
- Thanks, she did
all the work, you know?
- And she'll continue
to do so, thanks to you.
- You know what I wish?
I wish I could
just see
whoever's gonna
get her, you know?
- Well, Miguel...
You're gonna
get your wish,
because that person is gonna
be here in just a second.
- Who's that?
- McManus has been working
the phones all morning, and--
- Oh, shit.
I thought
he didn't want her.
- Tina didn't.
Well, neither did I
at first.
Look, I love my wife
and everything
she's done for me,
but she deserves
her life back.
I mean, I know this dog
would be great for me,
but I think...
Over time it would
be great for her too.
- That's good.
Cool.
This is Julie,
and I trained her
special for you, man.
- Special?
- What do you normally
speak at home?
- Spanish.
- Now make believe
you're at home right now
and ask for her.
- Julie?
Ven aca.
[tense percussive tones]
- You taught the dog
Spanish?
- Yeah, yeah.
Every command,
she's fuckin' bilingual.
Tell her to sit down.
- Julie...
Sientate.
[tense percussive tones]
- She's all yours.
Te voy a echar de manos.
- Come on,
I'll drive you home.
- Let's go.
[tense percussive tones]
- Well, congratulations, Tim,
you're two for two.
Both the music program
and the man's best friend
has had tangible
and positive results.
- Hear, hear!
- Thank you.
You know, I just want
to tell you both
that I appreciate
your support,
as guarded and as
half-ass as it's been.
- Ouch.
I was wondering what happened
to that backhand of yours.
Oh, I gotta go.
I'm due over
at Lardner.
Leo, Timmy.
- Well...
There certainly has been
a thaw in your icy relationship
with the governor's office.
- Huh?
- If I didn't know better,
I'd say you had a liaison
with the state liaison,
if not last night,
then very recently.
- Yeah, I gotta go too.
- Okay, Timmy.
- 51.
- Yeah, Jesus Christ,
I fucking won!
- That winning
ticket was mine, damn it!
Have I got
any legal recourse?
- No, no.
I mean, even if
we could find him,
it's Dave Brass' word
against yours.
I mean, he's a CO injured
in the line of duty,
you, a prisoner,
known to talk to God.
- That bastard!
He should be arrested
for killing my grandson.
- Alex Jr.'s only chance to beat
the leukemia is to find a donor,
someone willing
to give his bone marrow.
- I know.
But I thought because of
his unique ethnic mix,
a match was difficult.
- The difficulty is
that no one is looking.
There must be
someone out there.
- Or here.
I'll bet if you
search the computer files
of every prisoner in Oz,
past or present,
you'd get a match.
- Well, why don't I?
- What?
- Search the files.
- You'd do that for me?
- For you,
for your grandson,
for Dave Brass,
for my own
peace of mind.
[gate buzzes]
- Martinez.
I hear they're shipping your ass
back to solitary.
- Yeah.
- Listen, I could
help you out.
A word from me
and you're sitting in Unit B,
maybe even
Emerald City.
- Yeah?
And why would
you help me?
- You douced Dave Brass
for no apparent reason.
Only I'm thinking
you had a reason,
and I'm thinking
if you tell me,
that's maybe when
I can step up for you.
- I got nothing to say.
- You attacked a CO,
Carlos.
Where you're going,
you've got no friends.
- [grunting]
- If you don't get smart,
you're gonna fuckin' hurt
a lot more than you do now.
[tense percussive tones]
Martinez is cracking.
We're so close to him
jabbering all the names
of everybody involved.
And my guess is
Enrique Morales tops the list.
- Yeah, good, none of that's
gonna do much good
for Rebadow,
though.
I mean, even if we find Brass
and tell him who cut him,
he's not going to give
that lottery money back.
Yes.
Yes, yes.
Got it.
- Got what?
- Salvation.
Farai Gyrobile is
a Rastafarian from Unit C.
Now, it turns out
that him and Bob Marley
have more in common
than just reggae.
Both of them
have white fathers.
- And was his mother
half West Indian,
half Guatemalan?
- Yeah, so he appears to be
the perfect match
for your grandson.
Now all you've gotta do
is convince him
to be the bone marrow
donor.
- May I talk
to this man alone,
prisoner to prisoner?
- Of course.
Good luck.
- Farai,
Bob.
Bob Rebadow.
- The guy who got aced
out of the 2 million
Mightyball dollars.
- Yes, you see...
I needed to win that money
on account of my grandson.
He's dying
of leukemia.
- Pity.
- Which is why
I need your help.
Alex has a...
Very specific racial makeup
which you match exactly.
- How the fuck you know
what makes me up?
- McManus told me.
And I was hoping
you might be willing
to donate your bone marrow
to my grandson.
- McManus has no right
sharing that shit with you!
Everyone here thinks my blood
be black, 100%.
I fuckin' donate,
and they all
know different.
And if you tell a soul,
you're as dead
as your grandboy.
- No, wait.
- I'm sorry, Alex.
I tried.
[tense percussive tones]
God spoke to me
last night.
- He told me that
the missing element
in Alex Jr.'s recovery
is faith.
- Uh-huh.
- Not money,
not science.
I want to find
a faith healer,
someone who will go
to my grandson in the hospital,
lay hands on him,
flush out the leukemia
once and for all.
- I see.
- You're wary.
- What little I do know
of faith healers
gives me pause.
A lot of people
expecting a miracle...
get deception instead.
- Okay.
So you don't
choose the bruised fruit.
You look carefully.
- For whatever
it's worth,
the kind of people
you're talking about
are not typically
sanctioned by any church.
- Sister Pete,
I didn't say
religious healer,
denominational healer.
I said faith healer,
the faith that
alone transcends all
cultural divisions and systems.
Aren't you sick of
the club mentality
surrounded by members
of other clubs,
who belongs to what
and which one
has the upper hand on God?
I mean no offense,
but I don't want to belong.
I just want
to believe.
- So what happens next?
- I wait for
instructions.
I wait for the word.
I am an arrow
in God's bow.
[tense percussive tones]
[gate buzzes]
- How long has he got?
- What?
- Your grandson,
how long has he got?
- Who are you?
- A.R. Whitworth.
How long has he got?
- I don't know,
only God does.
- Good answer.
Now we're talking.
- About what?
- Faith healing,
right?
- How do you know that?
- Would you believe
that last night
I dreamt that your grandson
was restored to perfect health?
- Maybe.
- Go on.
- All right.
I was born a gimp,
spinal shit,
impossible to fix.
When I was
in high school,
found out that my neighbor's
a faith healer,
born with
X-ray vision.
She denied it for years,
said it embarrassed her.
Then she goes
and heals a friend
and the word spreads.
All this time,
right next door to me.
I was pissed off at first,
to tell you the truth.
But she's the real deal.
No showbiz shit.
- But you still
limp a little.
- Just started
bothering me again.
But still, it's better
than what it used to be.
God may hold the key
to your grandson's health,
to heal him,
but he's holding a key
inside the boy.
Regina can turn it.
- Absolutely not.
- Sarah, listen to me.
- I have listened to you.
There will be no strange woman
doing some sort of séance
or voodoo
over Alex Jr.'s bed.
I will not
have it.
- Put aside your prejudices
for a moment,
take Mother
and go meet her.
- No.
There is no way I'm going
to dangle that kind of carrot
in front of a terminally ill
10-year-old.
The boy is
too fragile.
Say it doesn't work,
Robert.
What then?
We tell him that God
didn't love him enough?
- I don't want
little Alex to die.
- We're waiting
and praying
for a bone marrow
transplant.
- Waiting and praying,
waiting and praying.
What about doing,
God damn it?
- Cool down, Rebadow.
- Step back,
this is a family matter.
I want to stand on a mountaintop
and curse our idiotic,
modern small-mindedness,
our lame,
civilized methods
of surviving sickness.
Hospitals are the summit
of human potential?
Bull-fucking-shit!
- Are you finished?
- No.
I'll find someone else
to visit Regina for me.
- Who?
The only reason you called me
instead of Alex or Sophie
or Mother is because you knew
that they would need convincing.
No, there is no one
in our family
who is going to let that strange
woman into Alex Jr.'s room.
- You can't do this.
- Yes, I can.
You know what I see?
I see a man trying
to redeem himself
in the eyes
of his family,
making a last-ditch effort
after decades of absence.
See?
Sometimes I have
X-ray vision too.
- Why?
Why open this door
just to close it in my face?
Be healed...
In the name of God.
- Our Lady of Fatima Church
and its rectory next door
were burned to the ground
this evening,
killing two priests.
Also injured was
Father Raymond Mukada,
who suffered
from smoke inhalation
and is in serious condition
at Benchley Memorial Hospital.
- I don't want
to hear anymore, Seroy.
You're going
to solitary.
- Warden, wait.
What if I give you
some intel?
Will you give me
a reprieve?
- What kind of intel?
- About Father Mukada.
What if I tell you the fire
at Mukada's church
was requested
by a prisoner
here at Oz?
- Who?
- Uh-uh.
Not till
we have a deal.
- Clarence Seroy is
a lying sack of shit.
- Funny, that's what you said
when Jaz Hoyt implicated you
in Jim Burns' murder.
- I'm innocent.
- No, you're a guilty
little prick
who's finally gonna
take responsibility
for the shit storms
you created.
- You've got
no hard-core evidence
that either
I set up the arson
or was involved in
Hoyt killing Burns.
It's still their word
against mine.
- Think you got
the system beat, huh?
Well, I've been around
a lot longer than you, Kirk.
Ray Mukada is
a friend of mine.
He's lying
in a hospital
and that's
pissing me off.
Pissing me off royal.
It's your testimony
vs. Kirk's.
He claims to have had nothing
to do with Burns' murder.
He says you're lying.
- I'm on death row
for chrissake.
Why would I lie?
- What we need
is another witness.
One of your biker buddies
has got to come forward.
- They do that,
they end up here.
- Not necessarily.
If they didn't participate
in the crime,
I give him
a free pass.
All your buddy's
got to say
is he heard Kirk
propose the murder to you.
- Done.
[tense percussive tones]
- Timothy Kirk,
you are hereby charged with
the murder of James Burns.
- What?
- My friend Max here
just corroborated
Jaz Hoyt's version
of the truth.
Put Kirk in solitary
until the trial starts.
- No.
- Murder one, death row.
- No, I didn't--
he who comes in with vanity
shall go out in darkness.
I'm sorry.
- And his name shall be
covered in darkness.
He shall
never see the sun.
- No!
- And finally, I'm happy
to announce that Ray Mukada
will be released
from Benchley Memorial
tomorrow afternoon.
[applause]
- When's he coming
back to work?
- Well, the doctors aren't
sure yet, but we hope soon.
Okay, that's all.
Peter Marie...
You haven't said a word to me
since our little discussion
about Peter Schibetta.
- "Little discussion"?
You know, Leo, when you
decided not to resign,
I was thrilled.
But since then,
you've become
intransigent.
Keller can't
see Beecher,
Schibetta, Alvarez.
It seems like when you get
an attitude about some guy,
boy, you just don't
want to hear anything else.
And I don't
work that way.
- Speaking to Dr. Nathan
really helped me.
Hearing her thoughts about
being raped helped me
to feel not so alone.
- Oh, that's great.
That's good.
- So what's the next step?
- That's up to you.
I would like to schedule
a session with your wife.
- I'm--I'm not ready
to face her yet.
- All right.
And perhaps you should
think about interacting
with the men
who attacked you.
How do you feel
about that?
- No.
No way.
I'm no rat.
I'm not gonna
give up any names.
- Why would you want
to protect them?
- I didn't say
I'm protecting them.
- You're going
to get revenge?
- I didn't say that,
either.
- Peter--
- Just let it go.
- Okay, for now.
I want to ask you
one more thing.
What's your relationship
with Warden Glynn?
So there is bad blood
between you.
- Maybe we need to let
that go too, Sister.
Yeah, let that go too.
[tense percussive tones]
- Hey, Petey...
Nice ass.
[tense percussive tones]
- John and Jane
raise their kiddies
to be decent citizens,
teach them the laws
of political correctness,
teach them
to respect other races,
genders, body shapes,
beliefs.
But think about it.
Doesn't making our children
too aware of the differences
plant the same seed
of separateness?
Are we blinding
little Jane and John Jr.
so that they only see
what makes us different
and not what
makes us alike?
- Hey...
Feeling better?
Those painkillers are
fuckin' with your brain.
You've been sitting
there for two days.
You don't talk,
you don't eat with us.
Not to mention you got me
worried about this gum shit now.
Can't tell if
they're recessive or not.
- Take a hike, girls.
- Yes, sir.
- Vern.
- Yeah.
- I don't know
who the donor was,
where that fuckin' dentist
got the gum tissue from,
whose cadaver.
Could be anyone's.
- Get the fuck
out of here.
- The shit's anonymous,
stored in some fuckin'
freezer somewhere.
How am I supposed
to know to ask?
Don't look at me
like that.
- When exactly
did this come up?
- When I was whacked on gas
and under the knife.
That scum-sucking
towelhead,
he's fuckin' with me
in the middle of surgery.
- Christ Almighty.
Is it normal color at least,
the gum tissue?
- I don't know.
I haven't looked.
- You haven't looked?
You haven't paid a
little follow-up visit
to Dr. Faraj
to find out?
- He won't be in again
until Thursday.
Listen, nobody
hears about this,
especially not
in the Brotherhood.
[tense percussive tones]
- So, Vern, am I right
in deducing
that the reason
I drove 80 miles
to hear this
pathetic story
is because you don't know
what effect James Robson's
little dental dilemma
is going to have
on his standing
in the Brotherhood?
- Yes, sir.
- And because you care
about this Robson,
he's your friend.
- Yes, sir.
- Well, let's see
if you can answer
some of your
own questions here,
and we'll see if my trip
was worth the time.
Define purity
for me, Vern.
You see, I'm not concerned
about James Robson.
I never did care
much for the boy.
His type joins us
more out of
an identity crisis
than true faith.
- Sir, with all
due respect,
Robson has
proven himself.
- With all due respect,
Vern, I don't give a shit.
What does concern me is you,
that your convictions
will falter in this
embarrassing situation,
that you will overlook
Robson's infection
because the two
of you are...
close.
- We don't know
anything for sure yet.
Robson's gonna find out
the truth as soon as he can.
- Just remember,
a little leaven
leavens the whole loaf.
That goes
for you as well.
And next time,
spare me the road trip.
Use the fuckin'
telephone.
- Yo, by the way,
I got James Robson
over in Unit B.
Last night he was asking me
if I can get him a copy
of your schedule
this week.
There...
some sort of nastiness
going on between you two?
- What did he say?
- Nothing.
He was just
all on edge,
in a darker mood
than most days.
You look kind of
freaked out yourself.
- Shit.
Shit, shit, shit.
[tense percussive tones]
- Quitting?
As of when?
- Today.
- Today?
Jesus, Tariq
a little advanced notice
would have been nice.
- Leo, I didn't
see it coming, really.
- You can't give me the rest of
the week to fill your slot?
- Look, I'll finish
out my shift,
and then that's all.
Here, these are
some contacts
that could probably
help you out.
- First Cochern,
now you.
Why can't I hold onto
a dentist around here?
- I'm sorry, Leo.
- Bullshit!
- Yeah, I guess so.
Do me a favor.
Spread that around.
And don't tell anyone
where you heard it,
okay?
- [laughing]
- Faraj should
be in by now.
I'm gonna corner
him after lunch.
I guess you don't wanna
talk much until then,
is that the deal?
- Hey, I'm not handling
this any different
than the next guy would,
so just give me
a fuckin' break, all right?
- Just soup.
- Sure you don't want no
chitlins and gravy
to go with
that?
[laughter]
- What?
- Shall we?
[pots and pans banging]
Everyone, listen up.
Robson here
went to the dentist
and got himself a nice pair
of dirty ghetto gums.
[laughter]
- Thanks, Vern.
- I didn't
say a fuckin' word.
Shut up,
you goddamn nigger.
Just give him
some soup.
- Whoa, you gonna
take that, G,
man calling your brother
a nigger and all?
Hey, don't get stupid.
Don't want me to Sammy Sosa
that jaw with this here spoon.
- Keep it moving, girls.
[tense percussive tones]
- I need to see
Dr. Faraj.
My mouth
is killing me.
- You poor baby.
- Follow me.
[gate buzzes]
- Dr. Faraj, hi.
Now, who's the fuckin'
donor, huh?
- I have a wife.
I have kids, please.
- Don't make me
fuckin' slip.
- No, no, he was white.
He was like you, man.
He was just your age.
- Prove it.
Call the fuckin' lab
or whatever.
- I'll prove it.
I'll prove it.
Okay, just please
go get--
get me my address book
from--
from other there, okay?
[blow lands]
- [grunts]
- He wasn't white,
I made sure of that.
- Fuck!
- What's done is done.
Officer!
He attacked me.
Must be his gums
acting up.
[tense percussive tones]
- [moaning]
- Now, you all know
how highly I've esteemed...
James Robson,
but the past,
unfortunately,
is nothing more
than the past.
Satan has scored
a very ugly victory,
and it pains me that
Robson is a casualty.
We must, nevertheless,
abide by our principles,
not our feelings.
As of today,
James Robson is no longer
a part of the Brotherhood.
[tense percussive tones]
- [heavy breathing]
- Hello, Chris.
- Sister.
You're gonna have to
talk in this ear.
This other one doesn't
work too good anymore.
- Yeah, Dr. Nathan
says the hearing loss
may be permanent.
- Eh, that'll give me a real
excuse for ignoring people.
- She also says
you'll be sent back
to protective
custody tomorrow.
- Just in time
for my trial.
- How do you
like your new lawyer?
- I think I'm gonna lose.
- How do you
feel about that?
- Angry.
I don't wanna end my days
on death row.
- I'll pray for you.
- Do you think
Jesus was a fag?
- What?
- You think Jesus
was a fag?
It's a legitimate
question.
- Are you trying
to provoke me,
mock my religion?
- No, just looking
for a role model.
Jesus was divine
and human,
simultaneously, right?
Did the divine part
control his sexual appetites?
And if so,
what chance have I got?
I'm not divine,
far from it.
I mean, all my life,
anytime I've
gotten the urge,
I've stuck my cock
into any cavity
that was open
and available.
That's what's led me
to this point in time,
this precipice of death.
If I'd have
been celibate,
do you think
I'd have been happier?
- We fight our natures,
Chris.
- Why?
God gives us natures,
why?
What, for us
to fight them?
- It proves
we're better than animals.
- I guess I failed
that test.
- You shouldn't
think that way.
- What, sister?
I can't hear you.
[gate buzzes]
- I see the Aryans have
snatched your friend Adam.
- Yeah.
It's my fault.
- How so?
- I...
I don't want to go into
all the gory details, but...
I delivered Adam
into Schillinger's hands.
- Why?
- Because Schillinger could
arrange for me to see Keller.
- Beecher...
- The irony is
I didn't see Keller.
He was sent to
Benchley Memorial
before I could get
to protective custody.
- So to satisfy
your desires,
sexual or otherwise,
you...
sacrificed a boy.
- I was convinced that
Adam deserved to get raped.
You know, he raped that girl,
he attacked me.
But when I saw him
in the gym, I...
[tense percussive tones]
I realized that no matter
what Adam had done,
no one deserves that.
[sighs]
My guilt is
devouring me.
- So it should.
- What can I do to make
peace with myself?
- [chuckles]
Well, I could
tell you,
but you wouldn't
want to hear it.
- Go on.
- This calamity was brought on
by your need to see Keller,
so the only way for you
to punish yourself
is by you denying
yourself Keller.
- You mean
don't see him.
- That's right.
- Ever again?
- That's right.
- Christ.
- If you are
truly sorry, Beecher,
that's what
you must do.
[gate buzzes]
- I want to transfer
to another work detail.
- You transferred to the
mailroom not even a week ago.
- Yeah, I'm not enjoying it
as much as I thought I would.
- Is there trouble
with Schillinger?
- No, I just realized
that pushing a cart around
isn't the best use
of my talents.
- Well, Sister Peter Marie's
already replaced you.
- I know.
- The only opening's
in the women's dress factory.
- Fine.
- So wait a second.
Sewing hems on women's dresses
is a better use of your talent?
Don't fuckin'
bullshit me.
What's going on?
- Nothing.
- All right, all right.
This is a prison,
not an employment agency.
We try
to accommodate people,
but we can't always.
Now, you asked to work
in the mailroom.
Until you give me
a legitimate reason
why you can't,
you stay
in the fuckin' mailroom!
Go!
[tense percussive tones]
- I have a special delivery
for Dr. Nathan.
[tense percussive tones]
[knocking]
- Can I help you?
- Where's Sister Pete?
- In a staff meeting.
- You're that sheriff
from Unit J, right?
- Alvin Yood, yeah.
- Yeah, I'm Tobias Beecher.
- Hey.
- I used to have this job.
- And you gave it up?
Nothing personal,
but you're a dolt.
- Look, when Sister Pete
gets back from her appointment,
can you give her this note
and tell her to make a meeting
with Adam Guenzel?
He's in Unit B, and I think
he needs somebody to talk to.
- About what?
- She'll know
when she sees him.
- Okay, I'll give her
your message.
- Thanks, so long.
- Hey, Beecher,
don't take any wooden nickels.
[gate buzzes]
- How you doing, Adam?
- What do you care?
- Look, I'm sorry
I let them rape you, okay?
But it's this place,
you know.
It got my head
all fucked up.
- [sighs]
Mine too.
- We gotta be there
for each other, bro.
- Why?
You want to borrow
my lipstick.
- Guenzel, Sister Peter Marie
has requested your presence.
- What for?
- My guess: to Saran wrap
your brain.
- Hey, prag, come here.
You listen up.
You don't jabber
one fuckin' word to her
about what
we done to you.
- Yes, sir.
- And clean that shit
off your face.
- So that's it.
You have nothing
else to say.
- No, ma'am.
- Tell me about your
relationship
with Tobias
Beecher.
- I don't have a relationship
with Beecher.
- We shared a cell in Em City,
that's all.
- What about when
you were both outside?
- Our families were friendly,
but he's, like,
10 years older than me.
We never hung out
or anything.
- What if I told you
that he's very
concerned about you?
- I'd tell you
he's a lying cocksucker.
I'm sorry for swearing.
- I've heard worse.
Why is he a liar?
- He knows why.
- You don't want
to tell me?
- Ask him.
- Normally, my role in these
sessions is to mediate,
to referee, but...
Today I'm gonna be
a little more aggressive.
Our subject
is Adam Guenzel.
I had a meeting
with Adam Guenzel
when he first
came to Oz.
Since then,
his behavior patterns
have changed significantly.
Clearly he has
been abused sexually
and I suspect that the three
of you know the details.
Tobias?
- He was raped,
gang raped
about a week ago.
- By whom?
- [coughs]
- I'm not investigating
this as a crime.
I just want
to help the boy.
Vern.
- I don't know what
you're talking about.
- Said,
can you shed
any light on this?
- No.
- Fine.
But I want you to know
that I am not
letting this pass.
I'm going to be seeing
Adam Guenzel every single day
until I can get him
to open up,
until he can tell me
exactly what happened.
This session is closed.
I am sick
of sitting
in the same room with you.
- Adam Guenzel has
become a liability.
- You think he'll blab
to the nun?
- Uh-huh.
Hey, prag,
get in here.
[tense percussive tones]
- Yes, sir?
- I've got good news.
We're gonna
help you escape.
[gate buzzes]
[tense percussive tones]
- Beecher,
I've got some news.
Adam Guenzel is dead.
- What?
- They just
found his body.
Evidently he was
climbing the fence,
he was attempting
to escape.
He got
past the barbed wire,
but then the fence...
- He was electrocuted.
- 4,000 volts,
straight through him.
- Fuck.
- I'm sorry.
[tense percussive tones]
[laughter]
- So...
that road to Hell that's
paved with good intentions--
I'm not saying
to make a detour,
only that before
you make your first step,
consider the consequences.
Because good
can turn to bad
in the blink
of a fucking eye.
[tense jazzy music]
♪ ♪
[bright tone]