The Wire (2002–2008): Season 3, Episode 2 - All Due Respect - full transcript

Omar continues his bold strikes on the heavily guarded Barksdale stash houses. McNulty launches his own investigation into last year's prison suicide of D'Angelo Barksdale. On the streets ...

Yeah, so we out on Carlton.

This old white motherfucker
and his wife roll up.

He's like, "Young man,
you know where the Poe House is?"

I'm like, "Unc, you kidding?
Look around, take your pick."

So, the old man, he's like, "The Poe House.
The Edward Allan Poe House."

Shit, you back already?

First of the month, yo.

I'm like,
"I don't know no Edward Allan Poe."

The man look at me all sad and shit,
like I let him down.

- I know you know you ain't coming in here.
- What?

Shorty, I don't know you.

You know Miss Elaine
in the back room, right?

This her brother, Earl, from the VA Hospital.
He's supposed to stay with her.

Can you help me inside? I'm Chantal.

So, what's good?

Thank you, young man.

Oh, shit!

Oh, shit.

Now, now, now.

Hey, yo, Omar.
Yo, all due respect, but this right here...

it's a Barksdale joint, man.

Do tell...

When you walk through the garden

You gotta watch your back

Well, I beg your pardon

Walk the straight and narrow track

Walk the straight
and narrow track

If you walk with Jesus

He's gonna save your soul

You gotta keep the devil

Way down in the hole

He got fire and the fury

Fire and fury

At his command

Well, you don't have to worry

Hold on to Jesus' hands

Oh, we'll be safe from Satan

When the thunder rolls


You gotta keep the devil

Way down in the hole

You gotta keep the devil

Way down in the hole

Way down

Way down in the hole

You think this boy woke up
yesterday morning,

sat on the edge of his bed and said,
"Today's my day to die"?

You don't think this can happen to you?

Doc, hold that up.

Look at what that bullet did to his heart.

That's his heart.

What was that, Scared Straight?

More like bored stiff.
What's the deal with this?

I go down to MCI Jessup, hoping to pull up
a fellow with some years on him,

see if he's ready to share his feelings.

Turns out "Barksdale, D'Angelo"
got himself rung up as a suicide.

- DOD of 7/21/03.
- Who worked it?

State Police.

You want me to pull the postmortem on this?

Yeah, he's kind of a made guy down there.

I just want to make sure
nobody did the suicide to him.

It ain't nothing but dust and bricks
over there now.

Shit, all the battling we did
to take them Towers, man.

You're trying to telling me
we back on the street with the rest of them?

We ain't beaten. Now the Towers is gone,
everybody know how it got to go down.

I say we send our people over there early.
Corner chiefs, like, "Yo, we here now,"

you know what I mean,
"but we bringing something to the table."

Lay it out like it's their lucky day.
No flexing, no threats.

Just be like, "This a good thing."

But you know, we gonna need good corners.

That's what we gonna need,
close to downtown. Get the workaday trade.

- Talking about, like, Fremont.
- Fayette.

Yeah, make us like $40,000,
$50,000 a day, easy.

Yeah, I'm on it.

And you know everybody
watching us on this, man.

They wanna see if we gonna fuck this up
now that the Towers are down.

You know what I'm saying?

They measuring us up. They wanna see
if we're gonna be weak or real.

If a fool step to us, man,
we gonna do what we got to do.

But it's them bodies that got you in here.

If we can do this without the bodies,
we should.

Know what I mean?
Especially now we light on muscle.

Speaking of muscle,
you hear from that man I sent you?

Yeah, Cutty from the cut.
Yeah, he rang, we took care of him.

Good, good.

- How you fixed for the hearing?
- It's all good, man.


Levy got everything straightened up
tight for me, man.

I'll be home before it get cold.

Terrace came down.


So, we're coming in.

To my corners? I don't think so.

Hey, hold on now.
This is gonna be good for you, too.

Yeah? Now, how you figure that?

Yo, what you paying now, 37, 38?

Yo, we can go 31, 32, shots, man.

The shit's so John Blaze,
you can step on it seven, eight times...

and still take the cake.

Spider bags!
Got those spider bags!


Yo, y'all seen Marlo?

Y'all ain't seen him? Do y'all know him?


Yeah, yeah, he was here.

Now he ain't.

Get those spider bags!
Spider bags!

Jesus, Tommy. I'd like to shit,

when I looked up,
saw you on the news, giving it to Erv.

- You fucker, you're up to something.
- I'm up to nothing, I'm telling you.

I can help him, he can help me.

A little itch here, a little scratch there.

This is a win-win for you, ain't it?

He won't play. You beat the shit out of him
because crime is up.

Press loves it and you score.

Flip side is that if he caves

you get yourself a snitch
in the mayor's inner circle.


what's my role in your little drama?

I thought you might broker a meeting.

You know, help your fearless leader see
the light about his new friend on the Council.

And I should tell him what?

Make nice or invest heavily in petroleum jelly?

Hey, his ass, his choice.

- You didn't talk to him?
- I couldn't find the motherfucker.

Man, we just walk up, we gonna bump.

There. Middle of the block, right there.

Yo, where that whistle at?

Whoa, h-hold on.

Wait for Marlo.

Yo, Cheese. Where you been at, man?

Nigger, that ain't nothing but bait.

Just soap your bitch.

Who's my Dawg? You my Dawg?
Who's my Dawg? Who's my baby?

You make Daddy some money, all right?

25 large on Dawg!

I'll take that bet!

OK, Cheese!


Anybody I want?


I want more than one.

I want the Olsen twins.

You got them. Slaves.

All they live for is to get you off.

But, so now, who you gonna do for them?

One guy, one act, one time.

Right, and the minute I name a guy,
you're gonna be like,

"I knew you were a cocksucker
from the first time I laid eyes on you.

"Steve McQueen? That's your fantasy?

"You fucking closet-case motherfucker." No.

- Steve McQueen?
- Fuck you. It's a set-up.

Both Olsen twins.

Ashley. Kate.


And, yeah, I admire their body of work.

They're yours.
All you got to do is name a guy.

- I'm not catching, I'm pitching.
- No problem.

Corner men out of the pit.

Release your dogs.

Yeah! I got that!

Break your dogs!

Look at him killing.


Oh, shit, there it is.

Can't it just be like
this unbearable-looking woman?

You know, like that old tune
from The Golden Girls?

The short one with the Coke-bottle glasses.

A guy.

- Hey, yo.
- Huh?

Let me ask you a question.

Where do you get those hats
with the bills over the ears like that?

I go into all the stores and the only ones I can
find are the ones with the bills in the front.

No, it's the same.
Just turn it sideways on your head.

Thanks. Thank you.

That's a knucklehead from the low-rises there.

The Terrace is spreading out.

Got to go somewheres, I guess.

Don't think you all needed to do that.

He turned cur on me, man.

No, I think you got played.

So, I'm guessing from the Terrace...
them being all cute about the property line.

I wanted to wait and see
what you wanted us to do about it.

So, what you want us to do?

Get back to work.

All right.

That's why they spilling drinks
all over your dress...

Your boy really jammed me,
that little prick. It was all over the news.

Hm. You did not look

The mayor told me the same thing.

You can't have that shit every week.

Not if you want His Honour
to give you the job permanent.

Tommy's a good kid, usually.
An ass pain when he wants something.

- But mostly good people.
- I don't give a shit what he is.

Well, you can't have him
pounding on you, Erv.

Throw him a bone.

He'll take care of you.

All right.

But I draw the line
at going behind the mayor for this guy.

You can't sit where I'm sitting
and back-door the fucking mayor.

Sorry I'm late, guys.

The kid had a Little League game.
It started late.

Well, I'll leave you boys to it.

And what I have brought together,
let no man tear asunder.

- He win?
- Who?

Your kid, his team.

Shit, who keeps score?

I mean, yes. It's a little hectic, but
everybody stepping off at the right time.

These corner boys we dealing with,

I don't think they even listen
to their own people.

Yeah, I'm gonna talk to peoples.
Where you at?


I can't find him.

And you told us not to start nothing.
So I set up in the middle of the block.

You know, even that got hard stares. I don't...

It ain't gonna hold, I don't think.

Now, this Marlo,
how hard you looking for him?

Why ain't you out there looking
for this motherfucker right now?

'Cause you called this meeting.

Shut the door.

- What's your good news, man?
- Omar right inside the stash.

Couple ounces of raw, already vialled, 600.

Cocksuckers even took my watch.

Second stash this month they done got to.

I mean, he called you by name, String.

I mean, all due respect,

but, dude, like, unless you step to him,
it's gonna be like this.

All right, man.
Double the muscle on every stash we got.

And if the man coming,
make ready for the man.

It's not personal.
I swear to God, it is never personal with me.

Truth is, I've been a councilman
for almost three years now.

And it's a long fucking time
to be ignored.

In Baltimore, a white boy doesn't
stand much chance running citywide.

Maybe the legislature,
if the right seat opens up.

But until then,
I'm stuck in a job with no power,

except getting potholes filled.

All due respect, Councilman,

you're fucking with me
because, what, you're bored?

A little, yeah.

What the fuck? When it comes to the crime
thing, this city can use all the help it can get.

- If you're looking for dirt, there isn't any.
- There's always fucking dirt.

But right now, I'm just looking to know
how we can do better.

Now you give me that much,
I can try and get you what you need privately.

No hearings, no press, no grandstanding.

And if I don't play ball,

you're gonna have my ass every time
I'm in front of your committee, right?

- One thing comes to mind.
- Shoot.

I can't get my marked units back
from Dickman Street to save my life.

Cars that are shopped for service
don't come back for weeks.

You tell the mayor?

- Not that you heard it from me.
- Of course not.

- How much these?
- 10,000 a set.

A nigger show that on a ride,
he hanging a sign on himself.

"Lock my ass up."

No shit.

So how you gonna play it?

If they from the Terrace, that's Avon.

- I know.
- And Avon, he coming home, too.

Well, if you inclined to work something out,
that's one thing.

If not, Avon can seriously handle up.

I know.

So if you want to hold on to what's yours,
you best be ready.

Remember that Barksdale kid?
The one who took all the weight?

Tied his neck to a doorknob
in the prison library, sat his ass down.

I don't know.

Men of color usually don't do themselves.

I mean, take me, for instance.

Yeah, you got all the reason in the world.

And yet here I am, still standing.

Give or take.

- You looked at the scene photos?
- No, there ain't none.

State Police dogged it.

My turn, Bunk.

Come on. Go with number three.

All right.

You gonna play my song, darling?

- I can make you hit the high notes.
- Hey, Bunk.

- Hey, look, I saw her first, Jimmy.
- Come on, man.

- I got a place here in Camden.
- Come on, be a gentleman.

- I'm being a gentleman, man.
- I'm really not interested, OK?

- Come on, let's go.
- It's all pink, baby.

- I'm really sorry, he's had too much to drink.
- It's OK. Thank you. Thanks.

- You all right?
- Yeah.

- You get yourself home?
- Yeah.

Knock it out.

- No, the baddest nigger of all time?
- Who?

This nigger from New York,
from the olden days, Bumpy something.

He'd do shit like run up
to a police station by hisself.

- No.
- You know, shit like that.

Cops be like hiding, like,
"Yo, Bumpy, we sorry, man, we sorry.

"Please go away. Please, please."


Obtain employment and refrain
from associating with criminals,

and keep us informed of your residence
and any change in residence.

So I gather you're not working at this time.

They still do morning shape-ups
down at the market?

I don't know and I don't care.
Just get a job, any job.

- "Woof"?
- "Woof", like a dog.

Oh, shit, it was like... Blam!

It was Cheese's boy, Tri.

So you gonna hit back or what?

- You got a better shot?
- Yeah. Inside.

Did he hang himself twice?

He could have been leaning forward
till he blacked out, then slid down.

Or how about I come up at him
from behind and...

Then set him down, make it look like,
"Goodbye cruel world."

- What do the scene shots show?
- There were none taken.

Troopers really fucked the pooch on this one.
All I have is a half-assed report.

Reads like the investigator
went off his Ritalin.

- What's a "large ecchy..."?
- Large ecchymotic area, mid-back.


What, mid-back as in...

Or he banged himself a few days earlier
in the shower. But yeah, maybe.

Nothing like a definite maybe.

Tri finally got that M.
Done it on foot, too.


Nigger lying in chalk, but my boy Tri
got that dapple all up his sleeve.

Looks like polka dots. But that's just
something you gotta know from experience.

Know what I'm saying?

I even had to school him on the whistle,
still walking around with it.

"Yo, Tri, stash that shit at Neesey's.
What's wrong with you?"

You know them niggers
is gonna get mad busy over this.

- So we getting busy, too.
- What time you coming over?

Damn, bitch, ain't you even listening?

You still there?


Time out.

- Do that again.
- Do what again?

That thing with your hand. Do it in my face.

What the fuck you talking...

Oh, whoa!

- I ain't done nothing.
- Can't do that.

Got a lot of room in here!

The law think they can do
what the fuck they want.

Yo, he ain't do nothing.

Fuck the police!

- No, man, we was just hanging.
- Just slinging.

How'd you work it out with the corner crews,
you guys from the Terrace coming in?

- I don't know what you talking about.
- Well, you best watch your ass.

'Cause the slingers out here,
they're like the crack babies' babies.

Man, every year everybody's like...

"Yeah, these kids out here,
they're a new breed.

"I ain't seen nothing like this before.
This the end of the world."

Look around you, fuckhead.
This seem like the dawn of a new day to you?

Can I go now?
Or you want to slap me up some more first?

Get the fuck out of here.

How about a hand job?


Man, you don't even get
Weezy Jefferson for a hand job.

Come on.

- Dozerman.
- Wanna call it a day?

They came back on us this time.
Dazz and them. They got Peanut.

- Shit, is Peanut dead?
- No, he's OK.

His brains are all over the sidewalk.
But he's OK.

- What the hell do you think?
- Shit. I'll get back at you.

All right.

- Well, that's two we heard about.
- What the hell's going on?

Drug war, maybe?

- What's up?
- Nothing good, man.

I ain't sleep since I capped his ass.

Close my eyes, see him laying there
all bloody and shit.

Cheese, man,
you did what you had to do.

- What I thought I had to do.
- That's Cheese?

He was my dawg, yo.
Had much love for me, even then.

I ain't never gonna find another dog like that.

- Well, they paying for it now.
- Mos def.

For months these assholes
show perfect phone discipline,

now they're talking murders?

Cheese is only a level below Proposition Joe.

All of a sudden, this case has legs.

- Homicide.
- This is Freamon, Major Case.

- Who's the OIC tonight?
- Hold on for Norris.

Yo, T. T man.

I'm shot! I'm shot!

Oh, shit. Shit!

They coming back!


Who this?


Detective Norris.

Ed, this is Lester.
I hear you're catching bodies on the east side.

You hear it?
Like, "probable cause" hear it?

"I got something concrete" hear it?
Or "gas up my head" hear it?

"I got fucking time to jaw with you" hear it?

- How many bodies you got, Eddie?
- "How many you got, Eddie?"


- You want me to go up to Homicide?
- No, I got it.

You're early man on tomorrow.
So go home. See your kid.

I'm telling you, this kid Berman's
a fucking wizard. I mean, check it out, right?

Six reported auto thefts, two of which state,
"Not impossible car was borrowed."

Making four auto thefts, with two unfounded.

And the prizewinner? Four armed robberies,

two of which complainants state,
"Too dark to ID weapon,

"not impossible knife wasn't a comb."

He might have groomed them to death.

Wine into water.

There he is.

- Abbadabba Berman.
- The Dr. Atkins of crime.

Just doing what I'm told.

- What a beautiful film.
- I couldn't understand a word.

- Honey, you gotta read the subtitles.
- Shit.

Does y'all go to the movies?

And you must be the lovely Mrs. Herc.

How'd you like your movie?


Herc and Carver here,
they try to snatch us up every day,

like, "Where the shit? Who got the shit?"

But they never get nothing.

So y'all go to the movies.


All right, then. See you tomorrow.

Everything OK?

On two.

Pick up. Pick up!

- Ed, you got to help me.
- I can't, not now.

...and a bucket full of worms.

Oh, my God.



Everything good?

How's that fontanette?


Is it closing up?

It won't close for a while.



Well, I'm just... I'm just...

Les hombres! Les hombres!

Les hombres!

Wait up, amigo!

I ain't sleep since I capped his ass.

Close my eyes, see him laying there
all bloody and shit.

- Cheese.
- Cheese on a platter.

He never talks like that.
Now, why would...

Because all good things
come to those who wait.

- Does McNulty know?
- I'll raise his ass.

We'll keep our ear to the wire,
keep gathering string, no problem.

But if bodies keep falling
in the Eastern District,

we might have to give up this wiretap.

Now you coming around?
Been more than a damn year.

Looks just like his dad, huh?

Let me ask you.

When you heard Dee was a suicide,
what'd you think?

Hey, little fella. Come here. Yeah.

Here's the thing, we got a tip.
And the autopsy report backs us up.

Can you put him down, please?


You know, I'm sorry about your loss.

He seemed like a pretty decent guy,
all things considered.

So when I found out about this,
I felt like I...owed him.

The last thing I wanted to do was upset you
if there was no point to it. So...


If there's anything I can help with
or any questions you need answered,

or whatever.

Major, how many people
are under your command?

- 278, sir.
- 278.

And how many felony arrests
did they make last month?

Don't bother.

You made 16.

16 in a month.

Same time period. How many handguns
you pick up? All shifts, all sectors.

Once again, don't bother.
The answer is none.


You had four bodies last night
in how many hours?

Shut the fucking book, how many hours?


Try five.

Tell me about this kid.

- I believe his name is James...
- James Toney.

When's the last time he was arrested?

With who?

Where's he sling?

How about this guy?

Or him? Or him?

You got four bodies,
all within two blocks of each other,

and you can't even start
to connect the fucking dots.

You got eight hours to get a grip on this mess
or you're done. You hear me?



You know I'm with Avon, right?

Stringer Bell?

Can we talk?

I need you to walk back up there
and pack up your people.

I'm being a gentleman
about it for the moment.

You offer up what you have on this,
you start the clock running on yourselves.

The wiretap has to surface in court.

- No way around it.
- She's right.

We finally got something and you're talking
about giving up the wire? Makes no sense.

There's a war going on.

We might have four more bodies tonight.

This is Baltimore, we might have six.

I watched Marvin Taylor from the Eastern

get his asshole ripped today
because he has no clue.

I don't believe this.

We got top lieutenants talking about murders,
and we can't shut up and take notes?

We got bodies on the ground.
That's got to matter for something.

If we're at Cheese, we're close to Prop Joe.

If we're close to Joe, we're close to Stringer.
That has to matter.

Look, I was right there with you when we left
Stringer on the street and it grinds me, too.

But the fact is we didn't create this unit
just to lock up dope dealers.

There's a narcotics unit for that.

We're about the violence.
Have been from the jump.

Barksdale was violent.

But right now, Stringer's quiet
and over on the East side, we got bodies.

We got enough from the tap
to take a real good shot at Cheese.

Put a murder case together, you may roll
someone up at Proposition Joe or Stringer.

As far as bodies go, four's a big number.

OK, then. As of now,
we use the phones to work these murders.

Umm... Yo quiero mucho menos
pastillas de secuoya en eso

y muy masaco un poco. Si? Gracias.

We bracing up, son.

Gather yourself, nigger. We got a bead
on Dazz. Be at Neesey's crib in a hour.

Dazz be with Neesey?
I thought that was your girl.

- Got it.
- We'll hook up and go to the battle.

Bring your whistle, in a hour. One.

Mount up.

Caroline, call QRT with that 20
and stay on the wire.

- We're on channel two.
- All right.

Tri, what size fries you want?



- Police! Search Warrant!
- Freeze!

Hands up! Down on the ground!

- Police!
- Go, go!

Put your hands up! Put your hands up!

Hands on your head!

OK, Mary Tyler Moore, buck naked.

Open the door, here I come,

drop my attache case down, bend her over,

give it to her on the ottoman,
and she's like..."Oh, Rob. Oh, Rob."

- Who's Rob?
- It's from the show. Done.

Mary-Kate and Ashley. I don't want to say.

Just accept whatever pictures
are on my mind now.

Anybody else?

Yeah, Dozerman's girl, what's her name?

She's baking a cake, naked.

White flour splotches
all over her fine brown skin.

I come in, in a chef's hat, nothing else on,

Johnson out to here and say...

"That's no way to stir a batter.
Here, let me try to get..."

Hey, Doze.

- What's up?
- Done, now the guy.

This is a hard one for anybody to understand.
I mean, it's got nothing to do with sex.

It's about sympathy.

- It's about giving a guy a break.
- Yeah, OK.

Gus Triandos.

Who's Gus Triandos?

A catcher with the Orioles back in the day.

Me and my brother had his card.

Sorry-looking motherfucker, man.

I mean, he looked like this little kid
who got left at a bus station by his parents.

You know why?

Because he had to catch
Hoyt Wilhelm's knuckleball.

Five fucking years. The worst gig in baseball.

It was like trying to catch
a greased pig with wings.

I mean, he even told a reporter once,
"Wilhelm nearly ruined me."

Gus Triandos.

Big, slow guy.

- Good choice.
- Go ahead, say it.

- I know you want to say it.
- What? There's nothing to say.

- Nothing?
- You put a lot of thought into it.

- It's cool.
- OK.

OK. Tonight, three things.

Number one.

Keep your incident numbers sequential
or it's gonna be a stone mess tomorrow.

Number two.
We'll be photographing evidence at the scene.

That means don't bag anything
until you get the shot off.

And number three,
don't embarrass yourselves.

Make sure your camera's loaded with film.

OK, mount up.

So Cheese, who's your dawg?

You my dawg.

I just want to know who's your dawg. Dawg.

What's this, some psychology?

Yeah, OK. Yo, please stop, stop.

I'll tell you everything I know.

Come on, Cheese.

Who's your dawg?

Hell, no. Hell, you ain't laying
no bodies on me, man.

Lawyer time.

"He was my dawg, man.

"I ain't sleep since I capped his ass.

"Looking up at me all bloody and shit.

"He had much love for me, even then.

"I ain't never gonna find another." Oh...

Man, y'all some cold-ass motherfuckers, man.

We got you on tape.

So what happened, Cheese?

I thought he punked me, all right?
So I did what I had to do.

Which was?

Lit him up.

Well, he's talking anyway.

Well, what's done is done.

But maybe we can help you on this.

How? You gonna bring him back?

No, on the consequences.

Help us help you.

- What?
- Maybe we can trade up.

Trade up for what, man? For this?

- What the fuck...
- Proposition Joe.

You give us Prop Joe and maybe we look
at this whole thing with Dawg differently.

Now, why would I be talking
about Prop Joe behind...

You know what, man?
I don't even know no Prop Joe.

OK. Dawg.

Which one of these is he? Where's that body?

Where I left it, most likely.

- Warehouse on the East Side.
- And he still there?

Far as I know. Unless the SPCA come around.


Looks like they broke him.

I got to say,
you really showed me something on this.

What can I possibly add to that?
Except, I owe you one, Cedric.

You ever have one of those
"have your cake and eat it, too" days?

I believe this could be my first.

Tell me something good.

We're charging him.

Improper disposal of an animal.
Discharging a firearm in city limits.

Animal cruelty, if you want to run wild with it.

Go ahead, call me a cocksucker.

- You know you wanna.
- Excuse me?

You know, I actually looked up
the stats on Gus Triandos.

Power hitter, right?

Fuck the both of you.

Later, dawg.

Kiss my ass.

- Night, Bunk.
- Night.

Funny day.

I'm the new departmental pet
for shutting down a drug war.

But I blew my wire for a dead terrier.

You remember how you said...

you hoped today would be your first
"have your cake and eat it, too" day?

What about it?


OK, gents.

You see the brake lights pump twice,
you know we got a clean hand-to-hand.

So I get in this morning
and I'm looking at three phone messages

from Buddy Ferraro over at DPW.

All assuring me that I'll have 20 radio cars
back in service at the end of the week.

Buddy and my old man go way back.

Made their first Communion together
at St Leo's.

So, what else do you need?

And you didn't go to the Mayor with it?

Did you get your cars?

Did anyone get fucked over it?
Or did your job just get a little easier?

I got 70 cops retiring at the end of the year
that I know of,

and no money for academy class.

The mayor fucked you, 'cause I know
that money was in the budget.

The mayor delayed it till next summer.

I mean less troops, less salary, less bennies.

I mean, even a six-month delay
saves the city two, three million.

Let me talk to some people.


- Major Colvin?
- Yeah.

This is the Com Center.

I'm sorry to inform you of this, sir,
but we have an officer down in your district.

Which hospital?

I just got the lease, so...

Fucking solo cars.
I should have teamed him. I fucked up.

Dead-ass motherfucker's dead.

If we catch up to him,
he don't come in alive.


Nicked jugular, shattered jaw.

He'll live.

Give me one of those.

I just got back from shock trauma.

You guys saved his ass,
getting him down as fast as you did.

So who we got for a suspect?

Number one male, white T-shirt,
baggy jeans, tennis shoes.

In the wind,
but we're locking it down out there.

So what's this I hear about the gun?

Doze tried to return fire, he dropped his piece.
Some fuck picks it up and books.

I mean, I can't believe this shit.

- I'll take it.
- No.

No, no, no.

It'll be nicer when I fix the place up.

Cedric. I don't care.

No, tell him I'm cooked.
I just got done at the hospital, I'm all in.

He asked
if you could talk to the reporters.

He doesn't want me talking to reporters.
That would truly be unwise.

- All right, all right, I'll tell him.
- All right.

Bunny, you look hellacious.

You got any coffee going in there?

You know what I was thinking?

That tonight's a good night. Why?

Because my shot cop didn't die.

Then it hit me.

This is what makes a good night on my watch.

Absence of a negative.

It was a good night.

Here's the thing.

Six months from now, I'm gone.

I put in my 30 and the only thing
that'll be left of me on that job

is an 8 by 11 framed picture
in the Western hallway.

But you know what?

The shit out there.

The city is worse than when I first came on.

So what does that say about me?

About my life?

Come on, man. You're talking about drugs.

That's a force of nature,

that's sweeping leaves on a windy day,
whoever the hell you are.

You fought the good fight.

Not a call since
we gave it up to Cheese.

What did you expect?



Be seated.

Regarding Officer Dozerman,

his condition has been
upgraded to "guarded".

I'm told he can receive visits,
and he's been moved to a recovery unit.

As of this tour,

all hand-to-hand undercover buys of CDS

are suspended in the Western District.

You're kidding me.


back in the dawn of time...

this district had itself a civic dilemma
of epic proportion.

The city council had just passed a law
that forbid alcoholic consumption

in public places, on the streets...

and on the corners.

But the corner is, and it was,
and it always will be...

the poor man's lounge.

It's where a man wants to be
on a hot summer's night.

It's cheaper than a bar, catch a nice breeze,
you watch the girls go by.

But the law is the law.

And the Western cops rolling by,
what were they gonna do?

If they arrested every dude out there
for tipping back a High Life,

there'd be no other time
for any other kind of police work.

And if they looked the other way?

They'd open themselves
to all kinds of flaunting...

all kinds of disrespect.

Now, this is before my time
when it happened, but...

somewhere back in the '50s or '60s,

there was a small moment of goddamn genius

by some nameless smokehound
who comes out the Cut Rate one day,

and on his way to the corner,

he slips that just-bought pint of elderberry...

into a paper bag.

A great moment of civic compromise.

That small wrinkled-ass paper bag...

allowed the corner boys
to have their drink in peace,

and it gave us permission...

to go and do police work.

The kind of police work
that's actually worth the effort.

That's worth actually...taking a bullet for.

he got shot last night trying to buy...

three vials.


There's never been a paper bag for drugs...

...until now.

If we ain't doing hand-to-hands,
then what the fuck?

And the shit with the bag?

What the fuck is that?