Ozark (2017–…): Season 2, Episode 4 - Stag - full transcript

Someone needs to stop Clearway Law.
Public shouldn't leave reviews for lawyers.

Ladies and gentlemen,

the story you're about to see is true.

Their names have been changed
to protect the innocent.

This is the city. Los Angeles, California.

Like other great cities,
it is home to all kinds of schools

where you can get
most any kind of education.

All these schools are accredited.
There's one that is not.

It holds its classes
in the cracks and crevices of the city.

Because of it, I have a job.
I carry a badge.

It was Wednesday, December 17th.



We were working the day watch out
of Burglary Division.

My partner is Frank Smith.

The boss is Captain Barnard.
My name is Friday, and I'm a cop.

...back to normal, okay?

- All right?
- Marty.

Hmm?

They're gonna find you.
They're gonna...

They're gonna find you.

They're gonna lock...

- Yeah?
- People are complaining.

You mean
the one other person that's here?

There's people in here yappin' all night.

Well, look,
there's no one here but me.

Keep it down, okay?



...lock you up.
Or they're gonna kill you.

"No, there's nothing inconspicuous here.

We're all just gonna walk in together.
Is that okay?"

"Oh.

Yeah, well, we all shop at the same store,
but that won't tip them off."

Dead.

Dead, dead, dead.

What's up?

- You tell me.
- What?

Get the fuck out of here.

- Go on, beat it. Get the fuck out of here.
- Kickers.

- What?
- Kickers, cotton, Percs.

- Whatever the fuck you got.
- Yeah, well, I don't got shit.

- Oh, really, motherfucker?
- Yeah.

Nothing?

- Get out of there.
- All right. All right!

Piece of shit.
You don't have shit?

- Shit.
- No, I bet you fucking don't.

Fucking... Come on.
Where the fuck are they?

- I ain't got shit.
- You fucking piece of...

Fucking asshole.

You heard his story.

You can't arrest a man
just because he doesn't talk.

I'm afraid that was the trouble.

What do you mean by that?

Maybe he loved you too much.

You're late.

I'm sorry about that.

That's the...

letters. Compliance or some shit.

- I don't really understand.
- It's things they asked for.

This should get it done. What you doing?
Ow! Ow! What the fuck are you doing?

I'm just trying to see
if Marty Byrde has some feelings.

Look, I need to know
what the plan is with Byrde.

Dude, what's your deal?

My deal is I want to stop wiping
other people's asses, finally.

Wyatt is smart, you know.
He could go to college.

You want him saddled with that debt?

You barely care
if he goes to high school.

He can miss a few days
with that brain of his.

If you want that cash so bad,
you do it.

But you were the one
who learned to clean it.

That was the whole plan.

- Get out of my way.
- No.

Just say you'll try it again.

You're acting fucking weird.

I just wanna make sure
you're holding up your end.

Kill Marty Byrde and get his money.

What are you guys doing?

Maybe they'll get hungry.

You think PETA came here
and let them roam free? They were stolen.

Who's coming here
to steal bobcats?

I don't know, maybe someone with male cats
that can actually breed them.

They were Dad and Uncle Boyd's.
It's bullshit.

You might feel alone in the world.

But you just gotta ask yourself,

why do you feel depressed?

Because I'm here.

Okay, sir, just bear with me, okay?

Why do you feel like a loser?

Well, you know what?
It's a one-word answer. You.

See, all that self-pity,
it just doesn't exist.

It's all in your head.

Now, see, he left because he couldn't take

reality hitting him
with a cold smack in the face.

Well, I'm that cold, hard smack
in the face.

You have really found your calling.

- You think?
- Mm-hmm.

Well, I don't know what Mom would say.

Man, the audience is growing.

Hey, sorry about that heckler jerk.
That's rare.

I know
your business is really growing,

but I was just wondering
how you might feel

about making some supplemental income.

For when you take the show on the road.

Well, I don't want to be a "no" person
without hearing the offer first.

As you say, "no" people miss out.

You've been reading
my pamphlet.

Who's better? Biggie or Tupac?

I don't know. Tupac, I guess.

No, it's Biggie.

Did you know his parents are from Jamaica,
and he didn't write down his raps?

- How do you know this stuff?
- From Ruth and Wikipedia.

What's Charlotte doing out there?

Uh, she is working here again.

- It's the off-season. Not much to do.
- Mm-hmm.

Well, better than the alternative,

which consisted
of her quitting the swim team

so she could smoke weed all day.

So you thought it'd be better
to include her in your family business?

- What are those?
- It's for the gaming commission.

Everything's gotta be reviewed
before they can make a recommendation.

You worried?

Why should I?

All right.

How you doing?

Can I get a Corona when you get a chance?
No lime.

Did you know he was coming in
this morning?

No.

From now on,
you're wearing a wire all the time.

- What?
- Yeah.

I need verbal evidence
that he's laundering

so I can get a search warrant.

- And have no privacy? Fuck that.
- Fuck you and your privacy.

I'm coming at him from all sides.

So if you're not part of the solution,
you got big fucking problems.

So don't stand there
and pretend like you have any choices.

What are you doing? What the hell's that?

It's a bug detector.
Charlie gave it to me.

Charlie, huh?

Yeah. He thinks it's the feds
that are shutting down our businesses.

The feds? It could be any number
of senators or special interests.

Why would he lie?

Maybe because he's attracted to you,

and he wants to keep
the stench off himself?

Oh, please.

Yeah, well, I mean, how do you know
it's not Wilkes talking to the feds?

How do you know he didn't just
give you a device with a bug in it?

Look, all I know is the person
who planted that bug Ruth found

is still out there.
I don't think we should trust anyone.

But if what he says is true,

what is the endgame
of shutting down our businesses?

And how did your partners
acquire their assets?

A ceramic tiling business, initially.
And then they were contracted

for nearly half the condominium projects
in Chicago.

And real estate.

Mm-hmm. They made a killing
near Wrigleyville.

- Ugh. Cubs fans.
- Mmm-hmm.

Well, to each his own.

I have to say,

it doesn't look good that all of your
operations were cited on the same day.

Well, I can't imagine that everyone's
happy about us opening a casino.

It's not open yet.

All right. A Ms. Rachel Garrison
runs the Blue Cat.

As for the Lickety Splitz,
who's in charge there?

Might as well get Mr. fucking Rogers
to play the boss.

- You ever even been in a strip club?
- A couple times.

- You ever tend bar?
- Well, no.

So then, what did you do?

Well, I was a real estate agent,
and now I give motivational speeches.

Can you say something
to motivate me to train your ass?

Um...

- Oh, okay. Uh...
- I'm kidding. Please don't.

So, here's the register.

And we just got
a new computer system installed,

so we're not stuck in the Stone Ages.

Who's the cutie?

- You working here now?
- I'm Sam.

Jade.

I'm sorry. Is it break time?

Because that stage
looks fucking empty to me.

You like her, don't you?

- Yeah, she seems nice.
- Hmm.

That chord change
always did fuck with you.

Just the opening.

Here.

It was D minor...

to A...

to F.

You try.

Fuck, man.

I really wish you were here.

Yeah, me, too.

How's Three doing?

Okay.

Better than me, probably.

You always did kind of let shit fester.

With Three, you give him a Ho Ho
and a firecracker and send him on his way.

I'm here now, dude. Okay?

I wanted to ask you something.

Shoot.

That night,

when you were going to the Blue Cat
with Boyd...

Were we going to hurt Charlotte's dad?

No, sir.

I'm not in the business of hurting people.

So what happened, then?

I don't know.

I grabbed the thing, and...

Maybe somebody was out to get us.

Maybe it's like you said in your paper.

We're just fucking cursed.

Jesus Christ, ever heard of knocking?

Just drink it.
I had a shitty day.

You really think that what happened
to Dad and Uncle Boyd was an accident?

Yeah, a shitty fucking accident.

I reread your essay.

Oh, yeah? To throw out more criticisms?

First of all, I don't know fuck shit

about what constitutes a good essay
from a bad essay.

It's your story.
Just tell it how you want.

Just get some rec letters and send it.

Wait.

This.

- This.
- What is it?

Don't need rec letters to go there.

Well, no shit.

What about Mizzou?

Fuck Mizzou.

Besides, when I went to my counselor
to get a rec, she gave me those.

It's easier, I guess.

- Hey!
- Hey.

- Thanks again for accommodating Charlotte.
- Oh.

You bet.

So...

where'd you end up going?

New Orleans for a bit. Then Vegas, Keys.

Wow. Back and forth.

What made you come back?

You know why I came back.
Marty called me.

Business was in trouble.

Hey, look. I get that you're pissed
I took your money, okay?

I was scared when that guy came.

No, I'm not mad about anything.

But, you know, Marty must have
called you 30 times to come back.

So, why now?

I felt bad abandoning Tuck.

Oh, oh. Of course.

But you didn't feel bad
about that when you left.

I guess people are entitled
to a change of heart.

Like, at first, I thought you
and your husband were cool.

And now I think you're pieces of shit.

Oh, God-fucking-damn it.

Look, I know the feds are the ones
that are shutting us down. I know that.

And it just... I don't know. It just...

It feels coincidental...

that you're back.

Hmm.

Do you want to get
into the litany of reasons

why the cops might be messing with you?

Charlotte!

- Hi. Come on.
- Bye.

- See ya.
- Have a good one.

Mm-hmm.

What was that?

Rachel stole packs of money out
of the wall when she left.

How much?

Six figures.

Do you want me
to keep an eye on her?

Okay.

They are onto me.

She was fishing.
You're being paranoid.

Look, I told you what he does, okay?

He comes in every night
with his blue fucking mesh bag,

he locks himself into the office,
and he doesn't say shit about anything.

What do you know about
the Byrdes' marriage?

Not much. She had an affair.

Well, that seems
like a vulnerability to me.

So?

So fuck him if you have to.

Why? So you can listen?

Is that your thing?

You're some fucked up dude
who likes to listen to strangers?

Start to work Charlotte.
Be her confidant.

Give her booze if you have to.
That usually works.

You forgetting something?

Hey, I was just about to order a pizza
and watch the game. You hungry?

You're a fucking dick.

Suit yourself.

Well, I'm certain you'll excel
wherever you decide to go.

Thanks, Miss Jacoby.

Ruth. I never expected
to see you here again.

I came here about Wyatt Langmore.

Okay. Come on in.

Wyatt came to you for a rec,
and you just gave him this.

Yes, I did.

Look, I'm not one to tell someone how
to do their job,

but it feels a little like a blow-off.

I mean, it would be great
if you can write a letter for Mizzou.

Well, I didn't blow him off at all.

On the contrary, I was introducing Wyatt
to legitimate options.

What does that mean?

Well, especially since Wyatt's already
missed a number of days this year,

which any university will take
into account.

His dad died.

What, is he supposed to miss the funeral?

Look, I'm sorry. There's just been...

There's been a lot going on.

Could you just cut him a break this once
and write the letter?

Mizzou only accepts
so many people from each school.

Wyatt is better off at LOTC for two years
and, if he can handle it, transferring.

Look, I get that being a puppet master
for kids' lives

is doing wonders for your ego,
but put the bias aside.

Wyatt isn't like the other Langmores.

He's better than me, my daddy,
my daddy's daddy put together.

He understands shit about the world

that most people
never even have to think about.

I think Wyatt has a chance for success
at LOTC.

Now, if you'll excuse me.
I have another appointment.

- Are you touched in the head or something?
- Excuse me?

- Please leave. Now!
- No!

I'm not leaving
without that fucking letter!

It is my responsibility, Miss Langmore,
to pick the winners.

I'm not about to take advice from someone
who couldn't get past the tenth grade.

Fuck. Fuck. Oh, fuck, fuck.

So, you pick a spot
about 20, 30 feet away.

Then you pick up the binoculars quickly
and try to hit that spot. See?

- Where are you going?
- Studio 54.

- What do you think?
- Just a walk, Mom.

Do you understand what I'm saying?

You take that spot, and then
you pick up the binoculars really...

Mom!

Oh, my God.

I don't understand
why people tell you

someone's "in a better place"
when they die.

That's bullshit.

People should just shake your hand
and say, "It fucking sucks." You know?

What else is there to say
when someone dies, you know?

It just fucking sucks.

You know, I talk to him sometimes.

- Your dad?
- Yeah.

It's good that you talk to him.

Sometimes, it's, like,
full-on conversations.

It's so weird. Like, I'm so focused.
It's like he's actually there.

I just can't stop thinking about...

you know, if there was something I...

Or anything I could have done
to help stop it.

I'll never forget that night
at the Blue Cat,

when the power went out.

It really fucking sucks, Wyatt.

Wait, you were there?

Um, yeah, but I wasn't near the docks.

I was with my dad, working.

Stop staring.

Sorry.

Oh, fuck.

You know what, Jonah?
Yeah, screw this place.

I'm getting out of here.

Take the bag.

The chair.

Well, how's Jonah?

He's okay,
all things considered.

Can you get down here?

I will get there as soon as I can, honey.

Marty, I think you really need to be here.

They say he could go at any second.
Hold on.

- What are you doing?
- I want to die in my bed.

Get me the fuck out of here!

- Go!
- Was that Buddy?

Yeah, he's checking himself out,
apparently.

It's a good thing
I didn't show up, then, huh?

Not helpful.

Honey, I'll be there as soon as I can.
I'm getting another call.

Hello, Mr. Beecher. How are you?

I'll make this brief, Mr. Byrde.

I don't know that I'll be able
to make the recommendation for the bid.

Why's that?

The application feels incomplete.

If you can provide
any additional financial information,

I'll be at the Golden Ridge. Goodbye.

Now what?

You do what you always do.
You take the bribe.

Only this time,
it'll be to keep you out of jail.

Hey, Wendy, so you know,

Beecher said he needed more info
before he could recommend.

Is that code for bribe?

Yeah, I don't know,
but if it's not and we try to bribe him...

Well, I'll call Charlie.

How's Buddy?

Stubborn as hell.
The doctor said he should not have left.

He might not make it through the night.

Jonah's down there with him now.
He asked him to read to him.

Yeah, well, we knew this was gonna happen.

Jesus, Marty.

"...and all the other stuff
she guzzled between times,

what to warm herself,

and what to summon up
strength and courage,

but the fire of it penetrated her,

it glowed down there between her legs
where women ought to glow..."

"...there was established that circuit

which makes one feel the earth
under his legs again.

When she lay there
with her legs apart and moaning,

even if she did moan that way
for any and everybody,

it was good,
it was a proper show of feeling.

She didn't stare up at the ceiling
with a vacant look..."

Jonah, what are you reading?

I asked him to.

Yeah, okay. It's time for bed.

See you in the morning.

Thanks.

Well read.

You're an asshole.

What? I learned a lot from Henry Miller.

Like how to get divorced?

No, that was one of my regrets.

And anyone who says they have no regrets
is saying, "I'm an asshole."

But for the record,
literature frees the mind,

but smut tethers you to the earth,
and don't you forget it.

Don't worry.
I don't think I could even if I wanted to.

You okay?

Well, no.

Don't make me laugh.

Well, what about you?

- You doing all right?
- Yeah.

Yeah.

"She didn't stare up at the ceiling
with a vacant look

or count the bedbugs on the wallpaper.
She kept her mind on her business..."

Mm-hmm.

Thank you.
The last guy played Smash Mouth.

All I know,
this helps keep the bile out of my mouth.

People think this song is played out,
but I say fuck 'em.

You don't feel like someone who cares
too much what others think.

Where you from?

Dayton. I'm here for work.

I'm John.

Hi, John.

I'm someone you want no part of.

Come on, now I'm even more attracted.

Oh, you're one of those, huh?

Fuck off!

I'm falling into the sink!

- I'll call you "Marty."
- What?

- Your name is Marty.
- All right.

Fuck me. Fuck, Marty.

Oh, Marty.

Fuck, Marty. You're so fucking good.

Stupid door.

Did you get all that...

you fuck-knob?

Yeah, sure, just hit the doorbell
and go right on without a search warrant.

Who the hell jumped my song?

I did. That must have been
a hell of a shit.

Were you the one knocking?

It might be more sanitary
to fuck behind the dumpster out back.

- Just saying.
- You know...

you play badass bitch
all the fucking time.

"Don't fuck with me. I'll cut you."
All that shit.

- You think I'm playing?
- I think it's partly an act.

Yes, I do.

And I say more power to you.
Whatever works.

- Well, then, you don't know shit.
- Okay.

Well, I know that Tuck listens to
this rap shit all the fucking time,

and you worked there, what, about a week?

He thinks the sun rises for you,
so I'd say you can't be all that bad.

That's 'cause Tuck is cool.

You still working for Marty?

Managing the best fake tits
on this side of the lake.

You like working for him?

He has his moments sometimes.

Yeah, I guess he's cool.

But sometimes he can be...

- A fucking prick?
- A fucking goddamn prick.

So fucking particular
about every goddamn little thing.

I bet, when he fucks, he just pulls out
a chart with the best positions and says,

"These are what we need to do
for optimal success."

"Wendy, I will predict a 30% chance

that doggy style
will make you come this week."

- Hey, you want another round? On me.
- Sure.

What did Jesus say to the rednecks?

- What?
- What?

Don't do anything
till I come back.

Well, if it isn't Slappy McGee.

Who you gonna hit next,
the lunch lady?

Shut up, Three.

- Can I talk to you, Wyatt?
- You can talk right here.

I fucked up, okay?

Hey, it's cool.
Now I don't have to worry about it.

Damn it, Wyatt. I just...

Ruthie. Him goin' to college
ain't gonna make up

for all your failures at the titty bar.

- What the fuck you talking about?
- I stopped by the club.

They got some tweed-looking
motherfucker running things.

Just the title's changed.
I'm still in charge.

- Yeah?
- Yeah.

Byrde tell you that?

If he told you he shat gold bullion,
would you believe him?

Hey.

You still hanging with blondie?

Yeah. You know, she...

She told me that her family was
at the Blue Cat

the night that my dad and Uncle Boyd died.

Yeah? If you got questions...

you go get some answers.

Hey, Wyatt, what's up?

- Your dad here?
- For what?

- Is he?
- Hey, Wyatt.

Surprised to see you here.
Can I help you with something?

You were, uh...
You were here the night it happened.

Why wouldn't you talk to the police?
I read the report.

Um...

Uh, well, you know,
Rachel had it pretty much taken care of,

and I wanted to get the family out of here
before they saw something, you know?

So you saw the bodies?

I saw the bodies, yeah.

What did you do with their guns?

I don't know that they had any guns.

- What do you mean?
- Look, were they...

Did you give them a job to do
or something? Is that why they were here?

Hey, I can't imagine
what you're going through,

- but clearly...
- Just answer me!

I don't have those answers.

Um, can I talk to you
for one second real quick?

Let me talk to Charlotte,
and we'll pick this back up, okay?

Just excuse us for one second.

Hey, hey. What did you say?

What? Nothing.

Did you tell him
that we were here that night?

- Yes, but it wasn't a big deal.
- Jesus.

Charlotte, you can't see him anymore.
Do you understand me?

Why?

Why? He thinks that I killed his dad
because of something that you told him.

Do you not see that as a problem?
It seems pretty clear to me.

It's only a problem if you did it, right?

Charlotte, do you think that I'm capable
of doing something like that?

Do you?

You can't physically stop me
from seeing anyone.

Yes, I can. I can ship you off
to boarding school in China

if that's what it takes.
Don't test me on that.

Why the fuck did we come back?

He's dirty.

- At what price?
- 50K.

- Come in.
- Yeah.

- Want a cup of coffee?
- I'd love one. Thanks.

Oh, but it's not the money
that's the key to his heart.

Or his recommendation, I should say.

I'm almost afraid
to ask what it is.

"Dead & Company"?

Mm-hmm. Members of the Grateful Dead.

They have four shows upcoming
in Missouri and Nebraska.

You are kidding me.
Tweedledum is a Deadhead.

Mmm-hmm.

Last four bribes he took
all included backstage passes.

What were you and Marty gonna offer?

- I wanted to talk to you about that first.
- Really? I'm flattered.

Now, after he pockets them,
just leave the briefcase behind. Walk out.

The passes are simply so he knows
you're there to play ball.

Hmm. Kinda like visiting you
at the lake house.

Yeah. Only difference is
I never told anyone that myself.

Others do it for me,
so I'm not on the front lines.

For you, who should be out running
gubernatorial campaigns, you're exposed.

Hey, Wyatt.

I know you were pretty upset earlier.
I just wanted to talk to you about stuff.

Call me back. Okay, bye.

Hey, Charlotte.

I know you got a lot of shit going on.

And I just wanted to say
you can talk to me if you wanted to.

Want a sip?

Don't tell your dad.

You know, I dated this guy in high school.

My grandma forbid it.

- So, naturally, I saw him more.
- I know you stole from us.

I'm sorry.

I took it 'cause of everything going on.

I was scared
about what your dad was involved in.

I don't care.
And I'm not talking to you about shit.

I'm helping by being here.

Yeah, I know.

Want to tell that to your family?

What are you talking about?

Charlotte just basically told me
to get bent.

Wendy came in here in interrogation mode
'cause the cops are in your shit.

Like I might know anything about that.

Like you guys didn't hijack my business
and almost get me killed.

Well, you love to play the victim card,
don't you?

Sorry, "the victim card"?

Yeah, just a constant "woe is me."
It's the same old song, Rachel.

Because I don't like your harpy wife

and your fucking entitled daughter
treating me like I'm the enemy?

Well, maybe they should be suspicious.
I mean, tell me. Why should we trust you?

Are you fucking serious?

After the businesses
were shut down,

the only thing that changed
is you were back in the loop.

- You remember who called who, right?
- Yeah, sure, I do.

But can you honestly say
that your past actions

give you any credibility
at all whatsoever?

- Can yours?
- I'm not in question here.

Right, because it is clear how fucked
your moral compass is.

You think I'm a rat.

Are you?

You are a fucking first-class prick.
You know that?

You're worried about me?

You got Russ Langmore's fucking friend
hanging out,

watching everything you're doing,
and you're worried about me?

- What are you talking about?
- The guy, he's tall, brown hair.

He was just sitting here yesterday
when you were getting your books.

I didn't know that he knew Russ.
What are you talking about?

Well, he was here the day after Russ died,

and he was asking
a whole heap of questions.

And then that Mexican guy, he was here.

And then this guy
was just fucking sitting in his car,

chilling and watching
the whole fucking thing.

And you're worried about me?

You're trying to figure out
who the thin blue line is,

and you're not thinking
about that fucking asshole?

How come you never said
anything about this before?

Because I left, Marty.

Because I don't want to be dealing
with any of your fucking bullshit.

I'm here to protect Tuck, and that is it.
I just want you out of my fucking hair.

Shit.

Shit!

Fuck.

Give your blood money
to somebody else.

- Mason?
- There it is. Take it.

I don't know what this is.

Have you ever in your life
told the truth?

I got a message saying someone started
a fund-raising page for me.

And nobody in my congregation did it.
So who else does that leave?

It wasn't me. But whoever did it,
this can help you, right?

Are you deaf? I don't want it.

- Ah, what about your son?
- Oh, my son is none of your business.

- You got a lot of nerve bringing him up.
- Take it easy.

Is this supposed
to resurrect his mom?

No, but it can feed him.

We'd rather die in the gutter
than live off of this money.

The wage of sin is death. Remember that.

And he decided heroin was more important
than our kids.

- So...
- Jeez.

Well, anybody who leaves you hanging
like that sounds like a real loser.

Hey, um, if you're not working one night,
maybe I could take you out to dinner?

And your kids. Or just you.

You gotta work
a little harder than that.

All right, I'll be right back.

- There it is.
- Don't touch me.

- Look at that...
- Pay me right now!

Then do something good.

- Come here...
- He owes me 30 bucks.

For that dead fish impersonation?
My pillow is far more arousing.

Okay. Mr. Langmore, what's the problem?

The problem is you need to eat a dick
and get the fuck out of my face.

Now, where were we, honey?

No, don't touch me.

Hey, Ruth,
your dad's causing trouble.

So? People think you're in charge.
Deal with it.

- Just do that twirly thing.
- You know what? Just...

Okay, I understand
you weren't satisfied with your dance.

But I think we can both agree

that sometimes our expectation
exceeds reality.

Fuck that!

So, when you look at it like that,
understanding that it's not personal,

the anger can dissipate, and you can see

that she deserves her money
for services rendered.

That's mighty persuasive, I must say.

But I think I'm gonna take a page
from my baby girl on this one.

Okay, Dad, you gotta pay her and go.

Yeah right. Look at him.
He's fine. It was funny.

No, I'm not joking.

You don't think I'm in charge here?

Mike!

Make sure he finds his way out.

Back the fuck off, Mike. I'm going.

Fuck off me.

Thanks.

You always have to cause some shit, huh?

Do it somewhere else.

I'm taking you off the fucking schedule.

Get the fuck up.

Get in.

Get in!

Hurry up.

No. No, I'm not going.
Look, you gotta understand.

- Please. Please. Oh, my gosh.
- Start walking. Now!

You don't understand.
Please don't.

They thought I was a rat.

If they knew for sure, I would be dead.
You know that that's true.

You know that that's true. Please.

- Please. I just wanted them to trust me.
- Get the fuck up.

Please. Please.

I have been working this fucking case

- for two years undercover.
- Please.

- Two years of my life, you fucking CI!
- Please don't.

- It's all blown now.
- He's gonna trust me now.

I swear to God he's gonna trust me now!

I have a target
on my back now, Rachel.

I will get you something.
I will get you something. I swear to God.

Oh, my God, please! Oh, my God, please!

I swear to God.

I swear to God, please.

Goodbye, Rachel.

Please. Please.

Next time,
there'll be a hole here waiting for you.

- What's that?
- That's from Mason.

While you were saying goodbye to Wilkes,
he threw that at me in the driveway.

Oh, God.

Why didn't you tell me
you were giving him money?

Because you wouldn't have approved.

Really?
You think I'm just heartless?

No, no. But you can
put the blinders on sometimes.

- You know that's true.
- I know that's true? That's not true.

Have you been down to see Buddy?

What did Wilkes want?

- Wanted to talk about Beecher.
- Were you gonna tell me?

It wasn't a secret.
Is that what this is about?

It's about you
making unilateral decisions, Wendy.

Well, that's a broad generalization.

- What else, other than Mason?
- What about you questioning Rachel?

I don't trust her.

- And then you turned Charlotte into a spy?
- I asked her to keep an eye on things.

Why do you trust Rachel?

I don't think it's smart to alienate

one of the very few people
that are helping us with this.

- And plus, we screwed her over.
- Oh, please, we've screwed over everybody.

Stop!

- Why are you arguing?
- We're not, honey. We're not.

Everything's fine.

We're okay.

- Good night.
- Well, it's not good for Buddy.

I had a...

- I had a stressful day.
- So did I.

Uh...

Charlotte told Wyatt
that we were at the Blue Cat

when the Langmores died.

So I told Charlotte
she can't see Wyatt anymore.

All right? So, there's that, too.

I'll talk to her.

Good night.

I've heard they have a great spa here.
How long are you staying?

Oh, just a couple days.

Wendy and I
heard through the grapevine

that you are a Grateful Dead aficionado,

and we are, as well.

We've got a couple of tickets
to their upcoming show,

with two backstage passes,

and unfortunately, we can't use them.

And we were wondering if you can.

Would you like to go to that?

Oh, yeah, sure.

Dynamite. That's great. Great. Um...

Let us comb through our records,
and we will get right back to you.

- Uh, Wendy?
- So nice seeing you, Mr. Beecher.

- Thank you so much.
- Honey. Honey.

Gotta go. You enjoy that.

What was that?

I had a bad feeling.

"A bad feeling"?

That room, it was too clean.

It was immaculate.
There was no luggage anywhere.

- He was acting very nervous.
- The room was too clean?

Maybe the guy's luggage was in the closet.

Did you ever think about that?
And so he's not Mr. Gregarious.

Didn't Wilkes tell you this guy's
taken bribes, like, multiple times?

- Yes.
- Okay. Why is today different?

I know you think
I made a unilateral decision here.

But with everything going on,
I'm not willing to take the chance.

Well, I hope you're right, Wendy, because
without his recommendation, we're fucked.

You starting a trend?

So, what's the word? Other than the end
to another shitty fucking week.

Kinda getting sick of it,
to be honest.

Can I try my luck?

Fucking hell. This fucking cunt.

So, how'd you get involved with Byrde
in the first place?

Easy. I just stole some of his cash,
and he wanted me to keep quiet.

Who knew we had so much in common?

I wonder if it's the same cash he hid
in my wall.

At the Blue Cat?

It's gone, though, now.

Has he ever tried to fuck you
with his overt-act shit?

Yep. Fucker.

Does he roll in
with that lame blue mesh bag,

lock himself in the office like
he's working out or some shit?

No, not unless he's benching
a flash drive and a bulk of cash,

like a cat burglar's utility bag.

- There you go.
- Home to office, office to home.

There you fucking go.

There you fucking go!

We're his little worker bees
while his ass gets rich.

You're terrible at this.

Yeah.

Buddy.

Buddy.

Boo.

That's not funny.

You're kind of a dick. You know that?

I love you, too.

May I help?

Sit down.

I understand why you didn't come down.

Yeah?

Everyone handles it differently.

Well, Jonah says you're gonna live, so...

You know, well, I figured...

You know, he gets that from me.
I did the same thing when my dad died.

It was pancreatitis, too.

I don't know why I couldn't just accept
he was gonna die.

We weren't even that close.
I knew the percentages of pancreatitis.

Stop.

Hmm?

Analyzing. You're exhausting.

Sorry.

It is what it is.

It's like watching
the Detroit Lions sucking.

My fucking beard...

it itches.

It's gonna feel better.

Shit. Sorry.

It's fine.

Maybe, uh...

Leave the mustache.

Good idea.

FBI! We have a search warrant!
Coming in!

Good morning.

Someone needs to stop Clearway Law.
Public shouldn't leave reviews for lawyers.