- Vikings!
The word alone conjures up images of drunken hordes
attacking and pillaging defenseless villages
from the shores of Britain to the steps of Russia.
But we've got a lot of misconceptions
about the Vikings.
Example: they never actually wore these stupid helmets,
and because they had a limited amount of land on which to farm,
they only pillaged to survive.
- I want to follow you.
You're the next wave and I want to be your lieutenant.
- Kill Guerra.
- What the fuck you doing, Jaime?
- Sorry, bro, you gotta die. That's just how it is.
- Wait, at least do me in the front.
Let me die like a man.
That's how it is, right, bro?
- Hey, father, I need to make a confession.
- Saturday, 3:00.
- I need to make one now.
- Close the door, Officer.
What's up?
- You know, ever since I've been let out of solitary,
I've just been going right and left, you know,
up and down.
I'm just trying to prove to everyone that I'm no pussy.
- I know what you mean.
I should have died in that bus crash,
and now the Reverend Cloutier has disappeared,
which I think is supposed to mean something,
but I can't figure out what that something is.
- So, what do you do?
- Pray.
- Yeah, well, you know,
toss in a couple of extra for me.
- I always do, Miguel.
- Yeah, well, I need just a little bit more
than my usual amount.
Someone died because of me.
- Jaime Velez?
- Yeah.
This kid was innocent, you know?
- You and I have had a long and battered relationship,
but I continue to believe that you have a good soul,
and that you'll find a way to right
whatever wrong you've committed.
- And if I don't?
- Then you really are a pussy.
- The problem is in our state,
there are more visually-impaired people
than there are guide dogs, but there are more dogs
than there are people to train them.
That's why I created this program, "Man's Best Friend",
where prisoners do the training.
- And it's worked elsewhere, huh?
- Oh, better than we'd hoped.
- Sorry, am I late?
- Well, she got here early, so we just kind of dove in.
- Sure, why wait for little old me?
- Alicia Hinden, Eleanor O'Connor,
the governor's liaison.
- Nice to meet you.
- Please, continue.
- Having inmates care for and train these pups
has been a perfect match.
60% of the dogs qualify for placement,
90% of the prisoners demonstrate a better attitude
after their participation in the program.
- Aren't there certain skills necessary to train a guide dog?
- Of course, but the skills are teachable.
- And the prisoners don't harm the animals?
- Well, we were worried at first,
but what's happened here is the dogs
bring out the best in their trainers.
Inmates go from having nothing to nurturing a life.
It means more to them than you can know.
- You'll pardon me, Ms. Hinden, if I'm skeptical.
I think we should start small.
- Sure, the less people, the less chance of success.
- I'm not saying the program will fail.
- No, you're just trying to guarantee it won't last.
- I'm trying to save time and money.
- Yeah, right. - Fuck you, Tim.
- Actually, I prefer to start small.
- Oh.
- So, I'll just need three good volunteers.
- If you're interested let me know, but remember,
this isn't a few weeks of playing fetch.
You gotta be strongly motivated to participate.
Now, the woman running the program
will interview each potential candidate, review your files,
and then make her final decision, that's all.
- Shit, man.
I don't want no dogs in here, man.
You know, where I grew up, man,
there was this rott-pit bull mix, mean motherfucker.
I'm sure he had some Schillinger in him.
Fucking took a chunk outta my leg, man.
- Something tells me you deserved to get bit.
- Yo, maybe a dog would take my mind off my problems.
I'm signing up.
- You know what, I think I'm gonna apply.
- I bet these mutts are drug sniffers.
- Undercover dogs?
- Hey, you never know, man.
- Fuck it, you know what? I'm in, man.
- Me, too.
- Ryan? - Yo.
- Can we get a doggie?
- Not a chance.
- Come on in and sit down.
- Hey, girl.
Yeah, yeah.
What'd you do to get in here with us bastards, huh?
- Miguel, I've looked through your file,
and I gotta be honest with you,
you're not really suited for this program.
- Why's that?
- You've got quite a history of violence.
- You read in there about the C.O. I blinded,
Eugene Rivera?
- Yeah, that kind of jumped out at me.
- Well, that's why you gotta let me do this.
It's what I owe.
Just a good thing to even out all the bad,
you know what I'm saying?
Check this out.
She already picked me.
Yeah.
Yeah, good girl.
- Oh, that's my bitch, right there.
- Step back a second, Penders.
You don't get your "bitch" just yet.
This isn't the city pound,
so, I'll be assigning you your dog,
which is how you'll refer to them.
- You the bitch.
- First let me run down what we're going to accomplish here.
The goal is to teach them, and you, basic obedience.
- So, if we step out of line,
then you hit us on the nose with a rolled-up newspaper?
- If I have to.
- Now, you'll teach the dogs
come, sit, stay-- the basics.
But more importantly, you'll show them love and trust.
For these dogs to be useful to the visually impaired,
they have to be comfortable not just with their owners,
but with all people,
and if we don't accomplish that,
then all you've raised is a pet, just like any other schmo.
Yes?
- These dogs, they stay with us?
- Yes, in your pods.
- How do you keep them safe from the other prisoners?
- Like I said, love and trust.
- Shit, now that's like conjugals and cigarettes.
- Meaning? - Those are two things
that don't exist in Oz.
- Check it out, the boys brought their dates home.
- So, has your little mongrel learned about pain yet?
- You stay the fuck away from her.
- Oh, you afraid I'm gonna hurt your little poochie-woochie?
- I'm afraid she might hurt you, bro.
C'mon, girl.
C'mon, get inside.
This is your new home.
Yeah, come over here.
Got you, girl.
- All Vikings were not stupid brutes.
They had moments of brilliance.
They were such great shipbuilders and sailors,
that Leif Eriksson and his crew landed in America first,
some say traveling as far south as New York harbor.
Here's where the true brilliance comes in.
They took a look, turned around and went home.
- You sent 200 letters to the station,
protesting the cancellation of "Miss Sally's Schoolyard"?
- I wanted the programmers to see
there's a groundswell of support,
a grassroots demand for the show to continue.
- All from the same address?
- I just got this letter from the station manager today.
"Thank you for writing," blah, blah,
"the exceptional educational value of the program,"
blah, blah, "unfortunately,
'Miss Sally's Schoolyard' has ceased production."
- Oh, I'm gonna miss "Miss Sally".
- Wait, "I'm happy to announce Whitney Allen will be appearing
"in a new exercise series called, 'Sallycise.'
We hope you enjoy it, sincerely," blah.
I wonder if my Norma will have a job on the new show.
- You still haven't heard from her, huh?
- No, but I live in expectation.
Did you get ahold of your son?
- Yes.
- And?
- And, there is no and.
- But, Bob, did you tell him you plan to win the lottery,
that you're gonna use the money to save Alex, Jr.
from the leukemia?
- No.
- Isn't that why you phoned him?
- Midway I decided I shouldn't get the family's hopes up.
- You're starting to doubt you picked the winning numbers.
- Of course not.
My concern is I don't know whether Officer Brass
actually bought the ticket for me.
Officer Brass!
Officer Brass?
Officer Brass!
- What? What is it, Rebadow?
- Did you buy my Mightyball ticket?
- What?
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Hey. - Dave, what are you doing here?
I thought the Warden had you assigned to cafeteria.
- He does, I'm on a break.
Just wanted to see how you guys are doing.
I've got PMS. I'm doing like shit.
- Officer Brass, good to see you.
- Yeah, why's that?
- Glynn's bringing more and more nigger COs in here every day.
In my book, any pale face is a good pale face.
- Let me ask you something.
Were you around the day I got cut?
- No, me and Robson were on work detail.
Believe me, if I'd have been here,
I'd have pulled that monkey off you.
- So, you know which monkey it was?
- Who exactly? No.
I guarantee you this, though,
it wasn't a white man.
- Hey, Brass.
- Yeah?
- You drink?
- Why, you want to go grab a couple of beers?
- How about a blood, piss, shit, puke cocktail, motherfucker?
- Ah! Ah!
- Fucker!
- Ah! God! Son of a bitch!
- How you feeling, Dave?
- I'm fine, can I go?
- Sure, just come back in a week or so,
and we'll do all your blood work.
It's important that we check for everything, you know,
hepatitis, TB, HIV,
you know, just to be safe.
Dave...
I always feel it's not my place to say this,
but when I think of what can happen if I didn't,
I know I'd hate myself.
- Say what?
- Do you have a girlfriend or a sexual partner?
- Kate.
- You should mention what happened.
Just so she knows.
- You're right, it's not your place.
both:
- Stop that.
Officer?
- Problem?
- He really should be in the hospital.
- No can do.
- Look, I know he attacked one of your own,
but I can't treat him properly here.
- I have to check with the Warden.
- Then go check.
Hurry.
both:
I said, stop it.
I said, stop it!
Stop it, stop it! Stop it, stop it!
I said, stop it, don't touch me!
Don't touch me! What's the matter with you?!
Martinez kept touching me,
and I had these flashes back to the rape,
and then I just lost control.
- Or maybe at the moment, you were actually in control.
- Peter Marie, I beat an injured man.
- Yes, I know, but by beating him,
you were finally in charge of the situation.
Look, you've told me on any number of occasions
that since the rape, you feel adrift.
Well, maybe this incident today was an attempt to
regain control of your life.
- Well, all I keep having are incidents like these.
Are you saying I antagonize these men on purpose?
- No, no, no, no.
But I do think you have to answer a question
I asked you when you first returned to work.
Why?
Why, after being beaten and violated,
did you choose to return to a place filled with brutal men?
- Oh, I still don't know.
- Well, I think if we work on it and if we figure it out,
you'll finally start to heal.
- According to Norse mythology,
man was made from an ash tree and woman from an adder.
The great god Odin gave them both life and souls
and a place to live called Midgard,
which Odin created from the eyebrows of a giant he slew.
Sounds almost true, don't it?
All of us...
Living on the edge of an eyebrow.
- Homosexuality?
It's a perversion against God's will.
- I agree.
- And yet, you've practiced sodomy yourself.
- I'm no faggot.
- You've raped Beecher and Cyril O'Reily,
and God knows how many others.
- I never touched anybody.
- You lying, cocksucking fuck. - Tobias--
- How can you deny what you did?
Get the fuck up! - Tobias! Officer!
- Get your fucking hands off me!
- Stop it! - Come on!
- You fucking lying bitch! You lying fucking sack of shit!
- Hey there, Petey.
You having some shrink time? That's good.
After a trauma like you went through,
getting gang raped and all...
- It's healthy to talk about the experience.
You probably shouldn't get too specific in the details, though.
That might not be so healthy after all.
- Leave me alone.
- Sure.
For now.
Keep your sunny side up.
- Hello, Chris.
How are you?
- Well, I'll tell you, being alone
gives you an awful lot of time to think.
I'm sitting here thinking about irony,
the irony of my life.
- I'm sorry I can't convince the Warden to let you see Beecher.
He's not even allowing an exchange of letters.
- I'll tell you, it was easier being apart
when I was in Massachusetts.
Knowing he's in this building...
Knowing that maybe he's behind that wall...
You said you were gonna talk to a lawyer,
get a defense lawyer for me.
Because I'll tell you, the only way I'm seeing Beecher
is if I beat this murder rap.
- I'll know something shortly.
Meanwhile, keep the faith.
- Keep it where?
- Hey.
What a nice surprise.
- My cell phone never seems to work in here,
so I asked Sister Peter Marie if I could use her phone.
I was talking to Freddy Rudolph about his hearing
when Sister asked if I could speak with another prisoner...
Chris Keller.
- What?
Don't.
- Why?
- Just don't.
- I've heard so many legends about Keller,
I'm curious.
- Catherine...
I love you.
- And you love Keller, right?
I mean, you still love Keller, don't you?
- If you meet him...
He's very seductive.
You--you're gonna fall in love with him, too.
- I'm willing to take that chance.
Besides, I can't pass up the opportunity
to meet my boyfriend's boyfriend.
- Here you go, Keller.
Bag of atomic fireballs, per your request.
- Thanks, Claire.
You know, I always need a little something to suck on.
- Warden finds out I smuggled them in for you,
and he'll have my ass.
- Mmm, what a great ass it is.
- You're bad.
- So, spank me.
- You got a visitor, Keller.
- Hello.
- I'm Catherine McClain from the Alliance for Prisoner Rights.
Sister Peter Marie asked me to stop by.
Can we be alone?
- We'll be right outside.
- Did you kill those three men?
You get right to the point, don't you?
- You don't have a lot of time.
- I've got nothing but time.
- Maybe not.
You're facing the death penalty.
- I'm not afraid to die.
I just want to die for the right reason.
- And the right reason would be...
- Love.
- We have a mutual friend.
- Yeah, who?
- Tobias Beecher.
- Oh, wait.
I know who you are.
You're the one who tried to help Toby with his parole.
- Yes.
- And he wrote me about you.
- Yeah, what did he say?
- He loves you.
- Well, you understand my dilemma now.
You see, if you fry,
you're a memory.
If I get you off, you and Toby will be reunited.
- So now I know you'll do everything in your power
to get me off.
- And why's that?
- Because if you love Toby as much as I do,
then you'll want him to be happy.
Reuniting us will make him happy.
- Yeah.
- Counselor?
- Did you kill those three men?
- No.
- No, no!
- Shut the fuck up!
You fucking cunt!
Come on! You want it?
- Let me go!
- Prisoner numbers 0-2-G-5-6-1 and 0-2-W-5-6-2,
Adam Guenzel and Franklin Winthrop,
convicted January 14th, 2002,
rape, attempted murder in the first degree.
Sentence, 28 years, up for parole in seven.
- Okay, let's go!
Come on.
- Come on over here, boy!
- That one's yours.
- This'll be the first time I ever had to make my own bed.
- Adam, take my word, nothing you experienced
growing up in Broun Park has prepared you for life in Oz.
I know it's hard,
but I'll be here for you, I promise.
Your dad was my scoutmaster, for God's sake.
- You have to understand something.
That girl Franklin and I raped,
we were drunk,
all three of us, partying.
I blacked out.
I never meant to hurt her.
- Yeah, but you did.
That's why you're standing where you're standing.
Don't forget that, ever.
The guilt may keep you sane.
Get settled,
and I'll introduce you around.
- Yo, you need a helping hand there, pretty boy?
You ever suck cock before?
- Back off, Clarence.
- Alright, Vern, no need to get testy.
- You okay?
- He was gonna rape me.
- Fucking nigger.
- We'll protect you from now on.
You'll be safe.
- Jesus, thanks.
- But, like everything else in life,
it's gonna cost.
- You've got an alcohol problem,
so you should join Sister Pete's therapy.
- Fucking Christ.
- What?
- Remember that friend, Franklin Winthrop,
I was telling you about? - Yeah.
- That's him.
Franklin.
- Your boy's next.
- Fuck!
- I need your help.
I need you to protect Adam from the Aryans.
- I can't.
- What do you mean, you can't?
- Beecher, when I stabbed
Schillinger and Robson defending you,
I put a lot of my Muslim brothers in jeopardy.
- I know.
- So, I can't do that again,
certainly not over some boy who rapes and beats women.
- I know Adam's no angel,
but I've known him since he was a child.
I know his family.
I can't justify what he did, but I--
- Beecher, stop.
My answer is no.
- Well?
It's not gonna work.
- Shit!
- Okay, here's what we're gonna do.
As a temporary stopgap, you're gonna go to McManus
and request a stay in Protective Custody.
- Until when?
- Until I can figure something else out.
Fuck.
- He's mine.
Clean him up.
- Prisoner number 0-2-U-6-7-2,
Francis Urbano, AKA Frank the Fixer,
convicted January 7th, 2002,
murder in the first degree.
Sentence, life.
Up for parole in 25 years.
- Sister Peter Marie wanted me to drop this off for Dr. Nathan.
- Pancamo, you look like shit.
- I got a fever or something.
Can you hand me some water?
- Yeah, sure.
You know, I know you hate the Aryans as much as I do, right?
- More.
Those Nazi fucks shanked me and raped Petey Schibetta.
- Well, I got a friend who they've threatened to rape, too.
I was wondering if you could do something to protect him.
- Beecher, what are you doing?
- Nothing.
- Do it somewhere else.
- Yes, sir.
What do you say?
- Done. - Thank you.
- Ooh, I like a man who sweats.
- Leave him alone.
- Stay out of this, prag.
So there's two ways this could go, precious,
kick or kiss.
They both end the same,
with my dick up your ass.
- Not necessarily.
- Oh, who the fuck are you?
- Who the fuck am I?
- You guinea piece of shit.
- Fuck you!
- How's the wound, you fuckin' guinea? Huh?
- Lockdown!
- Man, oh man, I was so fucking terrified.
- I know.
- I mean, there were arms and legs and knives everywhere.
- Yeah, well, it's over now.
- Damn, Jesus, I didn't know which way to turn.
I mean, I was so pumped,
part of me wanted to jump right in and kick some ass.
- Adam... - I could've, you know.
I could've kicked some royal ass.
Fuck!
- The Vikings had a code of behavior
which they followed religiously.
Honor and valor on the battlefield
were the values that a warrior strived for.
But much like the men in Oz,
they had no concept of good and evil.
They couldn't tell the difference.
They didn't know there should be one.
- Hey, Gloria, I heard what happened.
Are you okay? - I'm fine.
- That's good.
- Come in.
I met your mother.
- Yeah, I know, she told me.
- She seems nice.
- She's so completely different than the woman I grew up
thinking was my real mom, my other mom,
Cyril's mom, Tessie.
That was her first name, Tessie.
Growing up, Tessie was always sobbing.
She had good reason, you know, Cyril and I,
we never gave her any cause to smile.
It's crazy, though.
- What?
- Now that my mom is here,
you know, doing this community service,
well, she and me and Cyril,
it's like we're a family, you know?
It's fucking great.
- Ryan, have you
told her anything about
what went on
between you and me,
Cyril, my husband, Keenan?
- No, uh-uh.
Uh-uh, I mean, she's been asking, but...
- Don't you think you should?
- Why?
What good would it do her knowing that shit?
- You can't just present the good son
side of yourself to her.
- Look, Gloria, I'm in Oz.
You know, I don't think my mom thinks
I'm up for any sainthood.
- If you want to have a real relationship with her,
you have to tell her the whole truth.
- Uh-uh, I can't tell her the whole truth.
- Why not?
- Because then she'll stop loving me.
- I don't think so.
In my experience,
you don't love Ryan O'Reily by choice.
- ♪ Old McDonald had a farm ♪
♪ E-I-E-I-O ♪
- Relax, relax.
- ♪ And on that farm he had some cars ♪
- Cars? - ♪ E-I-E-I-O ♪
♪ With a vroom, vroom here ♪
- That's not bad, kid.
- Don't laugh, at least I'm trying.
- Yeah, he's right.
I don't see you making any effort.
- I got a little something-something
I might bust out at the variety show.
- Oh, really? - Yeah.
- What's that? - You'll see.
Hey, Ma, I want to ask you something.
Do you think families need to be 100% honest with each other?
- Yeah.
Well, I mean, if your father and I had been honest,
if we'd been open,
and if we'd worked through our problems
and all our fears,
maybe I wouldn't have left.
- I think about how different my life would've gone,
if the two of you'd stayed married.
- Yeah, well, don't romanticize it, honey.
It still would've been really difficult.
- No, I know that.
But, you know, we would've been,
you know... Together.
- Yeah.
- After we're done fucking around here...
I want to tell you about some of the things
that I've done, you know...
Since I've been in Oz.
And I just... I want to warn you, Mom,
it's not pretty.
- Well, I wouldn't expect it to be.
But that's good, because maybe if you tell me about it,
it'll start to make some sense to you.
- Yeah.
- So, what do you got?
- Just a little somethin'-somethin'.
- Let's see it.
That's great.
- Today's the day.
- Yeah.
- Kill 'em both.
But if you could only get one, get Ryan.
We can always whack the 'tard once the older brother's dead.
- There's Schupe.
- Hey, O'Reily. - Not now, Schupe.
- It's important.
- Okay, you got 10 seconds, what is it?
- I overheard Li talking to Jia.
They were arguing about your mom.
- What?
- Li was saying he's gonna rape her.
- Fuck.
- You got any tits, man?
- Yeah.
- Ryan, is that man gonna hurt Ma?
- No fucking chance, Cyril.
Whoa, so your boy's gonna hurt my mom, huh?
- He's out of control, O'Reily. I don't know what to do.
- Yeah, well, I do.
Hey!
I'm telling you, he was gonna rape my mother.
- You have proof of that?
- Ask Jia, he knows all about it.
- I will.
- Meanwhile, I want Cyril in solitary.
- No.
- Li's just the latest in a long line of people Cyril's hurt.
I want him somewhere he's not gonna hurt anybody else.
- Hey, he's all yours. - Ryan?
- It's gonna be okay, Cyril, it's gonna be okay.
Be gentle with him, man, come on.
It's gonna be okay. It's gonna be okay.
- I'm sorry! - You cocksucker!
- Save your anger, O'Reily.
This time we're gonna go the distance.
Cyril either ends up in the insane asylum or death row.
- And you're going to the cage, come on.
Come on, O'Reily, let's go.
- Sister, come on!
Sister, you gotta believe me!
- You know, it's just possible he's telling the truth.
- O'Reily, the truth? I doubt it.
- Please!
Please! I'm sorry!
I'm sorry, please, I don't want to go in there.
No, no, please!
I'm sorry, please!
No, please, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!
I'm sorry, I'm sorry.
- Hey, Jia, Jia, Jia, come here, hey, come here.
Hey, look, you gotta go to McManus
and tell him that Li was gonna rape my ma, okay?
- I got nothing to say, O'Reily.
- Whoa, whoa, Jia, Jia, come on.
Come on, come on, you gotta do that for me, man.
You gotta tell him.
- Your brother's gonna die.
They're gonna fry his white ass,
and I'm gonna be sitting in the front row,
laughing my balls off, you fucking mick.
- What, you fucking chink motherfucker!
You fucking kidding me? You're fucking dead, Jia!
You're fucking dead, you rice-eating,
little fucking bitch!
You're fucking dead!
You're fucking dead, you fucking chink motherfucker!
- You wanted to see me?
- Yeah, Warden.
Nice place you got here.
- What do you want, Redding?
- Control of the cafeteria.
- The Sicilians run the cafeteria.
- Yeah, but Chucky Pancamo's still in the hospital,
Pete Schibetta, psycho ward.
The place is out of control.
- Hmm, you think you can pull the operation back together?
- Well, most of those guys are friends of mine.
Most of them are black and they don't take too kindly
to kowtowing to the dagos.
- I let Adebisi call the shots in the cafeteria.
It was a disaster.
- I ain't Adebisi, am I?
- The truth is, there have been a lot of fuck-ups
all the way back to the gas explosion.
Alright, Redding, I'll give you a chance.
Officer!
- One other thing...
I'd appreciate it if you got them Sicilians out of there.
- Sure.
- Much obliged.
- Augustus, Augustus.
- Augustus, where's your dog?
- She's in my pod.
I don't feel like playing with her right now.
- Thinking about your mother?
- Yeah, believe it or not,
it's gonna take more than a few weeks for me
to get over her death.
- That's not what I meant.
- I just keep picturing her, trying to figure out
which way is up as the fucking bus rolls.
She hated closed spaces, being trapped,
freaked her out.
Now she's trapped forever in some cheap-ass coffin.
- You gotta move beyond that.
- Fuck you, Beecher.
- I know what you're feeling, I buried my son.
You know, this may sound strange,
but you gotta work those images.
Your mind's already taken your mother
from the bus to the grave.
Now keep going.
You gotta picture her body under the ground rotting away.
- Get the fuck out of my f-- - Listen to me.
You have to imagine your mother decaying,
the maggots eating away at her flesh,
leaving nothing but the bone.
You gotta hear the coffin splinter.
You gotta smell the dirt falling through the cracks.
- And why the fuck would I want to do that?
- To let your mother go.
Right now she's defined by her death.
This is the only way to lose the horror of what happened,
and to move on to everything good about her.
- I can't, you fuck!
All I can see is the fucking bus!
Just take a walk, Beecher! - Augustus--
- Take a fucking walk!
Jesus!
- Give me that shit, man.
Yeah.
Yeah, let him in.
- Give me something.
- Some of this?
- Yeah.
- Word. Why the change of vein?
- I need a consolation prize.
- Yeah, welcome back.
- Yo, this motherfucker ain't done tits in like years.
There he go, go get it, yeah.
- ♪ Swing low ♪
♪ Sweet chariot ♪
♪ Comin' for to carry me ♪
♪ Home ♪
♪ Swing low ♪
♪ Sweet chariot ♪
♪ Comin' for ♪
♪ To carry me ♪
♪ Home ♪
- You, uh...
you somehow expect me to sing like that?
- No, no, Omar, I-- I just--
I want you to enjoy it as much as I do.
- I never thought I'd say this, but I do.
I think I really do.
- Good, good.
- I mean, you know, the last couple of lessons,
they were slammin', I mean, they rocked.
- Well, it looks like time's up.
- I'll catch you later, Teach.
- Okay.
Practice.
- Yo.
How's it hangin', boss?
How'm I doing?
♪ Swing low, sweet Harriet ♪
♪ Bustin' my nut to the bone ♪
♪ Swing low, swing low, sweet chariot ♪
- Omar, Omar, Omar, your lesson's over.
- Hey, I got a song in my heart.
You ain't gonna begrudge me of that?
- All I'm asking you, Omar,
is to keep the song in your heart.
- Yo, White, you take requests?
- Yeah, sure, motherfucker, what you want to hear?
- Shut the fuck up.
- I will not fight, I will not fight.
- See if you can sing now, motherfucker.
- Leave him alone, Guerra. - Or what?
- All right, break up the square dance,
Come on, as in right fuckin' now!
- Tell Mr. Bojangles, keep his fuckin' trap shut!
- Get the fuck out of here now.
Move it.
- That's pretty good looking out, man.
- Stay out of trouble, Omar.
- Yo, hey, wait, wait, let me tell you something,
for the first time in my life,
me and trouble ain't even on speaking terms.
- Then what was up with Guerra?
- He stepped to me, you saw that.
- Stop the finger-pointing, Omar.
All blame lies with you.
And, therefore, on me, and I am not gonna have it.
- Mr. Said, I gotta practice.
I mean, practice is gonna make me perfect.
- Then when trouble comes, run away.
- That ain't gonna help my reputation up here at Oz.
- The only person your reputation matters with is me!
And the moment you forget that,
you go straight back to solitary,
now, do you understand me?
Do you understand me?!
- ♪ Swing low ♪
♪ Sweet chariot ♪
♪ Comin' for to carry me home ♪
- What's up?
- Omar White.
He's following instructions without too much whining.
I have managed to keep him clean.
The singing...
Seems to have focused him, it's just...
- He's driving you crazy.
- No, the problem is he's catching a lot of flack
from the other inmates.
They're harassing him, and he may get hurt, McManus.
There's only so much that I can do.
He doesn't have anywhere else to practice except in my pod.
- Which is when he drives you crazy.
- Yes.
I don't know if there are any other options.
I want to support him as much as I can,
but I need to pray in silence, McManus.
- Okay, okay, let me do some math, okay?
- Thank you.
- ♪ Comin' for to carry me ♪
♪ Comin' for to carry me home ♪
♪ Swing low ♪
- Omar, let's take a walk.
- Did I fuck up?
- No, nothing like that.
So, I hear you're singing up a storm.
- Yeah, I know, I mean, who'd have thunk it, right?
I'm the motherfuckin' Omar "Barry" White.
Yo, you want to hear a few bars and shit?
- No, not right now.
And as a matter of fact, Omar, neither does anybody else.
- Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, hold it.
First you encourage me to do this shit, right?
Now you want me to stop?
- Follow me.
- Where we going, man?
Oh, you ain't sticking me in Gen Pop and shit--
- Calm down. We're almost there.
- Where the fuck is "there"? Man, shit.
Hey, yo, McManus, I ain't with this shit at all, alright?
Oh, no, man, you ain't gonna make me mop and shit again.
- Omar, Omar, if you would just shut up a fucking second,
I think that you'll be pleased.
- Holy shit.
Damn, boy.
- You'll practice in here for an hour each day.
- Damn, you all right, McManus.
You a straight up motherfuckin' humdinger, boy.
- Yeah, yeah, that's me, humdinger.
- I heard you got your own little private practice shack.
You ready to do a little slinging for me?
- Slinging? Sling what?
What you mean, like selling drugs?
No, no, I can't-- I can't risk that now.
- Now, see,
that's not the answer I was looking to hear from you.
Now here's how it's gonna work.
I'm gonna give you the stash,
you move it on over to my man Reggie,
and he moves it on over to Unit C.
And if you got a problem with that,
then you gonna have a bigger problem with me.
So, I'm gonna ask you one more time,
are you ready to do some slinging with me?
- Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it. Fine. Fine.
- Take it.
Omar,
if I find out you been using some of that shit,
there ain't gonna be nothing left of you
to sweep up off the floor.
- Believe me, Redding,
this time I actually want to stay clean.
- Yeah, well, miracles do happen.
- ♪ Swing low, sweet chariot ♪
♪ Comin' for to carry me ♪
♪ Comin' for to carry me home ♪
You Reggie?
- Who the fuck else you think is gonna be knockin'?
Destiny's Child?
- Yo, that was some rhetorical shit, all right?
- If "rhetorical" means dumb as fuck, you got that right.
- You ain't too big on the small talk, is you, brother?
- Business is business.
- Yeah, well, pleasure's better.
- Later, fuckin' rhetorical nigga.
- Yo, man.
- Good work.
Never let it be said that I ain't a patron of the arts.
- Whoo, boy.
Tough day at the office, Jack.
How was yours?
What--what you doing?
- Omar...
Please.
- What?
- Be quiet.
- Yeah, I'm just trying to wind down and shit,
you know what I'm saying?
- Then wind down in silence.
- What the fuck? What's eating you, huh?
Something I did or something, what?
- Omar, now you may be my biggest concern,
but you are certainly not my only one,
so please, please, please!
Leave me in peace.
- Good morning, Imam.
Preparing for tomorrow's lecture?
- No.
- Music appreciation and theory?
- That's right.
- What about us, minister?
I understand our faith does not discourage against
the improvement of others,
but it also mandates that our leader lead.
We're concerned that Omar white
is becoming too much of a distraction.
- "We"?
Lalar, you concur?
- Look--
- Ahmad, do you feel spiritually adrift,
now that I've taken somebody else under my wing?
- Imam, I-- - Oh...
Lookie here.
Huey, Dewey, and Jigabooey
are having a little lesson.
- Lalar, step back!
Now...
Sarif...
Let's go.
- I hope it was something I said.
Out on the Serengeti, where these nigs are from,
you know how you send a message to the leader of the pack?
You kill the youngest and the weakest of the herd.
- I seen that on those wildlife shows.
- Well, I think it's time we do a little big game hunting.
- The Vikings eventually got civilized,
became Christians.
They're now the Danes, the Norwegians, the Swedes.
What's ironic is...
Despite all them war-loving genes in their system,
Norway now gives out the Nobel Peace Prize.
I guess a people can change
if they put their collective minds to it.
- Pretty cushy gig for a jig.
Trusting you around all of this merchandise.
I mean, how are we to know that you're not stealing shit?
- Guess we better open you up and check.
- Nope, nothing there.
- Maybe in his arm.
- Maybe.
Oh, strike fuckin' two.
Well, Lalar,
I recommend you get comfortable.
This could take a little while.
- Oh!
- Oh.