[bright tone]
[tense jazzy music]
♪ ♪
- Napoleon Bonaparte-- a poor Italian boy
who grew up to be the emperor of the French
and almost the whole world.
Well, maybe "grew up" is the wrong way to say it,
you know, since he was never taller than 5'2",
but you don't have to be a big man
to make a big difference.
[tense percussive tones]
♪ ♪
- I'm telling you, Metzger's dead.
- What happened?
- Someone cut his throat.
- Who? - Nobody knows.
- Well, then you find out.
- I'm glad Metzger's dead.
- He beat me for no reason.
- You may be glad the fucker's gone
till somebody worse takes his place.
♪ ♪
- Leo, you know the relationship between the unit manager
and his CO supervisor has to be
one of mutual respect and trust.
- Yes.
- So I don't want to promote someone
who's already working here,
someone who already has their loyalties,
their prejudices.
I want to bring in a CO from the outside.
- You know a guy?
- Yes, Sean Murphy. We grew up together.
He's been working the last eight years at Attica.
I trust him with my life, Leo.
- In this job, you'll have to.
- So is that a yes?
- Do I ever say no to you?
- Well, good, because he's already on his way!
♪ ♪
[indistinct chatter]
- I don't get these fucking hacks.
One of their own gets offed, and it's, like, no big deal.
No lockdown. No inquiry.
No memorial service.
- Maybe they knew Metzger was with us.
- Maybe we ought to start an investigation of our own.
Hey, watch your step, asshole.
[men laughing]
- You spit in my food.
- Yeah, no shit.
Now, sit down here and eat it.
♪ ♪
Here we go.
Mmm.
- Ryan, come on. We're late making breakfast.
- I told you.
We're not working the kitchen this morning, all right?
I have to go see my lawyer.
- I'm hungry.
I-I can go myself.
- No, you can't. - I'm hungry!
- Would you quit sweating me, Cyril?
[bell rings]
- Come on, O'Reily. I need some tits.
[tense percussive tones]
- All right, just a sec.
- Hey. Hey, Cyril.
Hey. Hey. Cyril.
- Hello. - Jim Robson.
Remember me?
- No. - I was in--
I was in Unit B when you first came into Oz.
I'm buddies with Vern.
Hey, first time since then I seen you without your brother.
- Ryan's coming. - Oh, he's no fun.
But you and me, huh?
We could have some fun.
Why don't you give me some of that sweet pussy
I've been hearing about, huh?
- Knock it off! Knock it off!
- He started swinging at me first!
- You're both going to the Hole, do you hear?
- Fuck off!
♪ ♪
- Hey, Gloria.
I just met with my lawyer.
Because I confessed to having Cyril kill your husband,
the DA agreed to only add on 40 years to my sentence.
Life plus 40 fucking years, Gloria!
All for you.
[tense percussive tones]
♪ ♪
Cyril.
Cyr...
♪ ♪
- I want to see my brother.
I want to see my brother!
- Timmy, when you called me up about working here, I was--
- Apprehensive?
- Oz doesn't exactly have the best reputation these days.
- Yeah, but Sean, that's why I want you here.
I think you and me together could turn this place around.
- Hey! McManus!
You gotta get my brother out of the Hole, man.
- He hit another inmate.
- Oh, come on. You know what that's about.
These Nazi fucks, they taunt him.
Cyril wouldn't provoke a fight, and you know it.
- Okay.
- This is fuckin' bullshit!
- I said okay. I'll look into it.
Now, get lost.
Jesus Christ.
- Who's that?
- Ryan O'Reily.
- Good Irish mug?
- Well, I don't know about good, but, yeah.
You know, I actually saw that little brouhaha.
Got me thinking.
At Attica, you organized a boxing program, right?
- Yeah.
- Well, maybe we could try something like that here.
- Great.
All we need is time, gloves, and a good insurance policy.
- Each group-- the Muslims, the Irish,
the Italians, whatever-- will promote one boxer,
and then we'll have a series of elimination bouts
until there are two finalists,
and then we have the big championship bout.
- Organized violence.
- It's worked in other prisons, Ray.
- No, he's right.
Whether it's rodeo or baseball,
sporting events focus the inmates' aggression
in a very positive way.
- Well, it's not their aggressions
I'm concerned about, it's the gambling.
You start something like this, the bets are gonna be all over.
- It's already all over the place, Leo.
These guys bet on everything from the Super Bowl
to ticktack-fuckin'-toe.
I mean, it's not like drugs.
It's not hurting anyone.
Leo?
- Well, let's see if the commissioner signs off.
- You know, I've done some boxing before.
- Yeah, me too.
- Yeah, where, the Special Olympics?
My brother Cyril is a Golden Gloves champ.
- Is there gonna be a purse? - No.
- Then what's the point?
- For the greater glory of your tribe.
♪ ♪
- That's right. Hit that fuckin' thing.
Harder! Hit that thing.
- Jab, jab, right. Jab, jab, right.
Jab, jab, right.
- Napoleon once said that men are more easily governed
by their vices than their virtues.
[bell dings]
- One. Two. Three. Four.
Five. Six. Seven. Eight.
That's it.
- He also said
there's only one step from the sublime
to the ridiculous.
Napoleon must've known Tim McManus.
- Yo. McManus.
- Coyle, I got your new work assignment, barber shop.
- Yo, what's up with that, McManus?
Snake working in the kitchen with me.
- Gee, Kenny, I thought I was still running this unit.
- I told you to stop calling me Kenny.
My name is Bricks.
- Bricks, right.
- This is Nappa's doing.
- Think so? - Sure.
Dago's got a hair across his wrinkly ass for me.
[tense percussive tones]
♪ ♪
- Nappa.
Yo, Nappa.
- Get those bottles out of here from...
- Yo. Nappa.
Italiano.
Nappa!
- It's Mr. Nappa.
- Why you take Snake out the kitchen?
- It wasn't me.
McManus had his own plans for the boy.
- Get him to change his mind.
- There are some things not even I am capable of.
- Fuck out of here. That's bullshit.
- Okay, I don't like and I don't trust your little pal, Coyle.
- I do.
- Well, then, the two of you can cuddle in the privacy
of your cell, but he's not working in my cafeteria.
Are we clear on that, Bricks?
- Now get to work.
- So, your father was a barber, huh?
- Hmm? Oh, yeah.
I cut my teeth watching him cut hair.
- Good. I could use some real help around here, you know?
The guys they send me don't know the difference between
a Princeton and a bowl cut.
How's that?
- Nice. - Yeah?
Good.
Anything else?
- I wouldn't mind a shave.
- Oh, well, I wouldn't mind a blow job from Neve Campbell.
- Yo, I'll shave him.
I need the practice.
- Suit yourself, chief.
I'm going up to the roof and have a smoke.
- White folks, man. So dumb.
Daddy wasn't no goddamned barber.
You paralyzed, right?
- Mm-hmm.
- Don't want you running away on me.
Whoa. Sharp.
- Hey, Coyle. - Just call me Snake, babe.
- I changed my mind, man.
- What? Ain't nothing like a clean shave, a close shave.
Ah, ah, ah. Don't squirm.
You're gonna make me nick your neck.
♪ ♪
So what you in here for, Augustus?
- Murder.
I killed a cop.
- Sweet, but I got you beat.
See, I whacked a whole family.
Mama. Daddy.
Two little sweet, adorable kids.
♪ ♪
Sweet old Gramps.
- And what'd this family do to you?
- Not a thing. - They why you kill 'em?
- For fun.
- And how you kill 'em?
- Take a guess.
- You slit their throats.
Why you fucking with me, man?
- I ain't fucking with you.
- You're up in Oz for armed robbery.
- That I am.
See, I never got caught for the murders...
and never will.
- Give me my wheelchair, man.
- Yes, sir. Yes, massa.
We aim to please.
[modem chirping]
♪ ♪
- Hey, you clowns remember a couple of months back,
a family named Ciancimino getting slaughtered?
- Yes. As I recall, the murders were particularly brutal.
- And they never found the killer.
- I think I have.
- Who?
- Never mind who.
He told me he did it, the fuck.
- You know the family? - No.
- Then why you so bent out of shape?
- Listen, I ain't no saint, not even close.
I killed somebody.
I did one wrong thing, taking a life,
and I'm doing time for it, you know?
- What's up? Toss that down here.
- This fuck has got no remorse.
He took those lives for pure pleasure.
He had no reason to kill, and he's getting away with it.
- Ah, kids today.
There's no honor, no ethics, no values.
- That's 'cause no one's willing to stop the erosion.
No one has a vested interest in justice anymore.
- Those two kids, one was only 18 months old.
[gate buzzes]
- Lunch.
[tense percussive tones]
- I got conflicting codes here.
One, I'm not a rat.
And two, I keep thinking about those kids
not having a chance at a life.
If those were my kids, I'd want somebody to speak for them.
- Then you have to be sure.
And are you?
Are you sure that he murdered them?
- Yeah, he...
- Look, I haven't spent that much time around Coyle.
He doesn't strike me as a man that's honest.
As a poser, as a braggart, yes.
A man who's trying to get credit he hasn't earned.
Just like Jiggy Walker, you remember him?
- Then I should what?
- [exhales]
Talk to him.
Get him to tell you the full story.
- And if I think he's telling the truth?
- Ah, that's when it gets hard.
You have to convince him to confess.
♪ ♪
[woman screaming]
[baby crying]
- I'm fucking the wife, right?
Her throat gurgling for air.
The baby over here crying in the crib.
So I gots to pull out the bitch.
Blood everywhere. I mean, all over.
So I go lean in to the little fucker.
[baby crying]
[grunts]
Stabbed it right in the heart.
- Goddamn, you's a sick motherfucker!
- Yo, you should turn yourself in, yo.
- Huh?
- No, no, no, no, think about it, think on it, think on it.
Your shit'd be famous, yo.
You'd be--name in the paper, picture on TV.
You'd be like Manson up here.
- Yeah, yeah, yeah, and I'll be moving straight to death row.
No thanks, homey. Mm-mm.
- Nigga, you full of shit.
- You doubting my word, nigga?
- Yo, remember that nigga used to be up here?
What's his name? Jiggy Walker?
Big-ass talker, came in here talking about, you know,
he sold drugs to the governor, the whole nine,
lying through his gold-ass teeth.
Look at you.
- Yeah, you know what, look, fuck you,
fuck this Jiggy nigga, I don't care, I ain't lying.
- Alls I'm saying, yo, is, you ain't lying, give me proof.
- I got proof. - Right.
- I got videotape.
- Get the fuck out of here.
- Remember my homey Franklin up there in Polo Ground?
He came with me.
Mini-cammed the whole dark deed.
- Sick motherfucker. - When I do it, I do it.
- God damn.
Yo, that's a tape I want to see.
- Yo. Me too, yo.
- Goddamn.
- I'd like to see that shit.
- Your ass need to be in here, motherfucker.
- There's no deal to be made here, Hill.
You'd get nothing out of this.
- He knows.
- Coyle will deny everything.
His word versus yours.
- There's a videotape that a friend of his has.
- Christ.
I'll call the DA.
What you're doing takes balls.
- Yeah, well,
I still hope I have mine after this is over,
you know what I'm saying?
♪ ♪
- Damn.
[gate buzzes]
[tense percussive tones]
- Whoo.
My man Napoleon conquered a lot of places,
created a lot of laws that we still use today.
He made his mark on history, and what does he get for it?
They name a dessert after him.
They named a beef after Wellington.
Fuckin' Caesar got a salad.
But Napoleon?
He's on the tray with sweets
next to the crème brûlée.
- On behalf of the eight inmates
who were killed and the 20 who were injured,
I am filing a class action suit
against the governor, the Department of Corrections,
and the Oswald Correctional Facility.
- Yeah, motherfucker!
[men cheering]
- We believe excessive force was used
by the prison administration,
violating my clients' civil rights.
We are, therefore, looking for damages
at $45 million.
- From the state courthouse,
Rick Dunn for Channel 2 News.
- The ghost of Scott Ross rears its ugly head.
- Nobody knows you shot him.
- Yeah, but if there's a trial,
they're gonna be digging up shit again.
Maybe this time, they're gonna find out.
- Maybe the state will settle out of court.
- Devlin's not gonna settle. That'd be admitting his guilt.
- Well, then maybe it's time to tell the truth.
- Tim, they find out I murdered Scott Ross, I go to jail.
- Maybe.
- Well, yeah, maybe.
Maybe because of the circumstances,
because I got a 10-year-old daughter.
I got a dying mother.
Maybe they only fire me.
And you for lying.
Do either of us want to take that risk?
- Respect. Respect.
- Can you feel it? - Oh, yeah.
- Everyone is recharged.
- Dinner!
- Hey, let's go eat. - Actually, I can't.
I have a visitor.
- Who, the lawyer?
- Tricia Ross.
- Again?
She's already agreed to be part of the lawsuit.
Why do you need to see her a second time?
- She has asked me for spiritual counseling.
- Then send her to a priest.
- Arif-- - Minister Said.
With all due respect.
Schillinger's telling everyone you're attracted to the girl.
Don't you think seeing her again might get misconstrued?
- Then let it be misconstrued.
I know my heart is pure.
♪ ♪
As-salaam alaikum.
- What's that mean?
- It's just a greeting.
- Well, I gotta tell ya,
ever since the announcement, I've become sort of a celebrity.
Yes.
Everywhere I go-- beauty parlor, Walmart--
people I know say they saw me on the news.
I have something for you.
Somewhere.
Oh.
I-I wanted you to have this.
- I can't accept that.
- Oh.
- No, it's-- in Emerald City,
we're not permitted to have such personal items.
- Well, maybe you could...
just hide it under your pillow then.
- "Tell the believing men
"to lower their gaze and guard their sexuality.
"That is purer for them.
Indeed, God is aware of what they do."
- Sexual desire is a powerful part of human nature.
Am I right, minister?
- Yes.
- Such desire needs only the slightest encouragement
to become ignited.
Am I right?
[tense percussive tones]
- Yes.
- In Islam, we believe eliminating temptation
is more effective than trying to resist it.
- Yes.
- That is why men and women
who are not married, or mahram,
are forbidden to interact with one another
or be alone together.
Am I right?
♪ ♪
Am I right?
- Yes, Arif.
♪ ♪
You are right.
We Muslims believe that appetites of the body,
such as food, drink, sex,
they tie us to a dependency on or a preoccupation with
our physical desires.
Therefore, we fast, denying ourselves those needs
while we strengthen our spiritual nature.
- If you're asking me for permission to fast,
I don't care.
Stop eating.
- It's more complex than that. - Hmm.
- According to the revelations of the prophet,
praise be on him,
I am only allowed to abstain during daylight hours.
At sunset, I must break my fast.
I must also have a pre-dawn meal
before resuming my fast the next day.
- But at sunset and pre-dawn, you're in lockdown.
- Exactly.
Which is why I need your consent to have food in my cell.
- This isn't Burger King.
You can't have it your way.
You don't deserve special treatment.
- Of course. - But...
I would be willing to make a trade.
Drop the lawsuit.
- I am not alone in the lawsuit, McManus.
Not up to me.
- Bullshit. You instigated this.
You convinced them to sue. Now tell them not to.
- Now, why do you care, McManus?
You're not even named as a defendant.
- I want to put this riot behind us.
- We must never allow anybody to forget those three days.
- Right now, we're on the edge of oblivion.
We're on the brink of disaster.
Now, before we all join hands and jump...
I want another chance.
Wait. Wait.
- I won't allow you to forget the promise you made.
- I haven't.
- Then you permit me to fast
according to the tenets of my faith.
- No.
- You know, denying me my rights to practice my religion
is unconstitutional.
- Yeah? What're you gonna do?
File another lawsuit?
- No.
You won't permit me to fast?
I will go on hunger strike.
- You were right about Tim McManus.
He's dreamy.
- I don't recall ever saying Tim McManus was dreamy.
- We've been going out. - Oh, yeah?
- Let me guess, first he took you
to Al's Diner on Chisholm.
- Yeah.
- He told you that his dad owned a diner up near Attica,
how living outside that prison changed his life.
- Yeah.
- Second date he cancelled. Too much work.
And then he took you to Ma Plume Blanche
at Top o' the Tower.
The two of you sat watching the city all a-sparkle,
he said he had feelings for you,
and then you went back to his apartment and fucked.
- Actually, we fucked after the diner.
- Oh, speak of the horny little devil.
- Diane, can I talk to you alone?
- Hey, sparkle.
Why the long face?
- I, uh...
I just talked to the hospital.
They've been trying to reach you all day.
Your mother died.
I'm sorry.
- Oh, it's okay. She's been sick a long time.
You know, we've been expecting this.
Oh, boy.
- Is there anything I can do?
- No, I got to go over to the hospital
and start funeral arrangements.
Can you get someone to cover my shift?
- It's already done. - Thanks, Tim.
- Can I drive you? - No, I got my car.
I got to go pick up my daughter.
- I can do that.
- No, I-- I think she should be with me.
I want to tell her.
- All right. Okay.
[Diane crying]
♪ ♪
[gate buzzes]
- Napoleon was a great seducer of beautiful and taller women.
He once said, "In war, as in love,
one must meet in close quarters to get things over with."
There ain't no closer quarters than in Oz, baby.
- Hey. - Hi.
- Hear from Diane? - Yeah.
She called just a couple of minutes ago.
- How's she doing?
- Well, how do you think?
She's a mess.
- Strange, given the fact her mother's been dying for, what?
A year?
Um, well, I found a great restaurant for us.
Ribollita.
It's a new Italian place.
- Look, I'm gonna have to cancel.
I promised Diane I'd come by the funeral home.
- Oh. Okay.
You said it was over between you two.
- It is. We're friends.
- It doesn't seem that way.
Today in the lounge.
- Her mother had just died.
- I saw the way you were holding her.
That was more than comfort.
- [chuckling]
- Hey, don't laugh at me!
- Claire, what the fuck are we talking about here?
- You and Diane. You and me.
- There is no me and Diane,
and to be perfectly honest, there is no you and me!
We went out twice! - No, we fucked twice!
- So what?
- You said you had feelings for me.
- I did, but if you're gonna
turn into some cloying bitch--
- Oh, I'm a fucking cloying bitch, is that it?
Oh, and they're fucking--
[muffled shouting]
Let go of me! - Calm down!
- Let go of me!
- Stop it! Stop it!
- Get off me! Let go of me!
- You gonna calm down? - Let go of me!
Let go!
- You're gonna get yourself fired this way.
- Ah, fuck you!
[men shouting indistinctly]
- Yeah, can I help you?
- We're here to see my son, Carlo Ricardo.
- Okay.
Step through to the admitting office.
- [speaking Spanish]
- Hey, hey, hey.
Hi.
Hey, Papa.
Where's Mami, huh?
She doesn't still have the flu, does she?
- No, no, she's at choir practice.
You know how Father Arnaz is about missing practice.
- You're in the choir.
- I quit.
I've been busy with the baby and all.
Sergio?
- He's-- he's working.
- Sergio doesn't want to come here anymore, son.
- And Mami?
- I'm not gonna lie to you.
She doesn't want to see you like this.
- I understand.
- Hey, come on.
It doesn't mean she doesn't love you, huh?
- I understand.
Hey, Isabella, you got any pictures of the baby?
- Yeah. - [speaks Spanish]
[both speaking Spanish]
- So Cohen says to me with the shank in his hand,
"I stuck it in his head, but I didn't kill him."
[laughter]
- Was there ever a time you were afraid?
- One time? How about every time?
Listen, just because I'm not down there
on the floor anymore with you men and women
doesn't mean I don't whisper a little prayer
every time I walk through the fuckin' gates.
[gate buzzing distantly]
Well, going home.
If I'm late for dinner again, my wife's gonna tan my ass.
- Thanks for the drink, sir. - Yeah.
- Good night. - Everybody travel safe.
- Later. - Night.
- Want something, Clay?
- I should drive you home.
- Ooh, what are you saying?
I had one too many? - Two too many.
There's also something I want to talk to you about.
Since you've got a buzz going, now's my best chance.
- What? You got complaints?
You just started, for Chrissakes.
- No, the salary's fine.
It's being in the lobby all day long.
I didn't train to be a CO
so I could sit behind a reception desk.
I want to be assigned to a cell block.
- No. - Leo, listen--
- Look, what did I tell you when you applied for the job?
I promised your father as he was dying
that I'd take care of you.
I'm not letting you anywhere near the prisoners.
- Then I quit.
I'll go get a job in another prison
where they'll let me deal with the inmates.
♪ ♪
- What the hell you trying to prove, huh?
That you're as tough as your dad?
Clayton, he died in here,
his heart beating in my arms,
and I'm not going through the same thing with you.
- I'm not ten years old anymore, Leo.
You can't stop me.
[tense percussive tones]
♪ ♪
- We'll figure this out tomorrow, okay?
- Hey, give me your keys. - No, I can drive myself.
This conversation just sobered me up.
♪ ♪
- Whoa! Whoa! - [shouting]
- What the fuck you doing?
Hey, step back!
Step back! Step back!
[all shouting]
- Fuck off!
You ain't so bad now, huh?
Huh?
Who's the man, huh?
Fuck you! Who? Who?
[yells]
[shouting]
- Take him to the Hole.
- You okay?
Go to the hospital. Get yourself checked out.
- I'm okay.
- What's this about?
- Motherfuckin' spic is crazy.
Mumbling some shit about his mother, man.
- The fuck you looking at?
[men drumming and singing]
- Napoleon's final defeat came at Waterloo.
It must have been embarrassing.
You're the fuckin' emperor,
you conquered all of Europe, only to lose in a place
with a stupid name like Waterloo,
or Watergate or Whitewater.
Note to politicians: stay on land.
- Well, Larry, ever since we reinstituted
the death penalty, the courts have been clogged
with needless appeals by convicted murderers
trying to escape their rightful punishment.
So the legislature has agreed to reduce fees paid
to court-appointed lawyers in murder cases,
and some of these lawyers,
who are against capital punishment,
have been padding their bills in order to say,
"You see, it's too expensive."
Well, I say, let them take advantage of taxpayers
somewhere else.
- The court rejected our appeal. - Oh.
So what's the next step?
- Well, normally, the next step--
the last step-- is the state supreme court.
- Well, let's do that then.
What's the matter, Lawrence?
- I'm recusing myself as your attorney.
- What?
Why? Was it something I said? Something I did?
- Not at all.
It's just that with these new lower fees
that the state's paying,
I can't afford to work on your defense.
Murder cases are complicated.
They take a lot of time, and I've been neglecting
the rest of my practice.
- What will happen to me then?
- The court will appoint you another lawyer.
- One that won't be as good.
Because the ones that take the jobs with the lower rates
are the ones no one else will hire.
- I'm sorry.
♪ ♪
- Oh, my. - What's the matter, Shirley?
- It just hit me for the first time.
I'm gonna die.
- Hi, Dad.
- Vern, I've got bad news.
- The only kind of news you ever got.
- Andy has been arrested.
- Christ. For what?
- I don't know.
Drugs. Beating up some nigger.
The lawyer's trying to sort it out.
- Which lawyer? Don't use Zanger.
- No, the court-appointed lawyer.
- A public defender?
Hire a real fucking attorney, Dad.
- I don't have the money, Vern.
I talked to the PD on the phone.
She sounds smart.
- She? What's her name?
- I don't know.
I think it's Goldberg.
- Jesus fuckin' Christ, Dad.
I need you to take care of this.
- What the fuck do you think I'm doing?
And I'm gonna tell you one thing.
I ain't throwing good money after bad,
and your two boys are bad.
- Yeah, well, the apple doesn't fall very far.
♪ ♪
- You wanted to see me?
- I gotta get out of this place.
- There's a reason you're in protective custody.
We want you to live long enough to testify against Schillinger.
- Hey, Warden, I stay in here, I die of boredom.
- You wanted magazines. I sent magazines.
- How many times a day can a guy jerk off?
- I don't know. It depends on the guy.
- I got to go back to Em City.
I ain't worried about Schillinger.
I'll take care of myself.
I want that fuck to see that I'm not punking out.
- What the fuck is she wearing for a bra?
- Hey, Keller. Back so soon?
- Ain't no Miss Sally in protective custody.
- Don't.
- Do you realize we've only kissed once?
In all these months, once.
All I've been thinking about is kissing you again.
- Hey, I said don't.
- Beecher, you fuck. I did what you asked!
I ratted out Schillinger and Metzger.
You know what that means.
Toby, you know what that cost me?
- Unless this is just another scheme
you and Schillinger cooked up.
How am I supposed to trust you?
Put myself in that position again?
Be that vulnerable again?
[spits]
- Keller knows if he fucks with me, he's a dead man.
- [faint murmuring]
- Yo!
Well, if you're coming, motherfucker,
come on and bring it!
[grunts]
- I need that crash cart right away.
We need to start an IV.
I need some Vaseline, gauze,
and some combine.
- [wheezes]
- I think he may have a punctured lung.
- Well, Mr. Keller's got about three or four assholes now.
[laughter]
- You asked to be assigned to the kitchen again.
Now you're saying you don't want to work there?
- There's too many bad memories.
Bad feelings.
Nappa, Wangler...
They don't trust me.
I don't trust them.
I'm don't want to fall back into my old ways.
- Well, the dress factory's always looking for new workers.
- No.
If I can, I would like to work in the AIDS ward.
- Well, we don't get many volunteers for the AIDS ward.
- In Africa, AIDS is much worse than here.
I would like to learn something about the disease
so maybe, some day...
I can help my people.
♪ ♪
- Now, these men are in the final stages of the disease.
We can't do much more than make them comfortable
and treat them with dignity.
Now, Robbie Gerth needs his medicine.
Bed seven.
- Who are you?
- Adebisi.
Take these.
- Yummy.
I didn't come to Oz with AIDS.
I caught it like the brass ring.
You ever fuck anybody up the ass?
- Yes.
- You protected?
- No.
- Tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk.
- Dr. Nathan asked me to take some more blood from you.
- She just took my blood a minute ago.
- She dropped it.
[gate buzzes]
- Ow!
Adebisi, you just pinch me?
- No, boss.
- History tells us that Napoleon was the first guy to utter,
"If you want something done right, do it yourself."
But how can they be sure?
I mean, what if ol' Napoleon's butcher said it to him
while slicing up some salami,
and Napoleon, being no dummy, said,
"I got to write that down"?
[men drumming and singing]
- [panting]
[yells]
- Miguel Alvarez is showing increased signs of agitation
since Dr. Garvey took him off Zoloft.
- Well, that's no surprise.
- And I can't say for sure,
but, uh, he really looks thinner.
- I doubt that's a reaction to the withdrawal.
- You don't suppose Dr. Garvey would change his mind
and put Alvarez back on antidepressants.
- No. He's not a doctor.
He's a walking ledger.
Every decision he makes is based on maintaining
the HMO's profit margin.
I have an interview with him in a few minutes,
during which he'll decide whether or not he wants
to keep me on staff.
- What are you saying?
- I'm saying it may be time to go.
- Dr. Nathan, Rebadow's awake.
- Thank you.
- What's going on with Rebadow?
- He went into insulin shock. He's got diabetes.
- Diabetes?
I don't have diabetes.
- You do now.
This happens sometimes later in life.
- The body starts shutting down.
- You'll have to take injections regularly,
go on dialysis weekly, and alter your diet.
- Mom's fudge.
My mother makes the best fudge.
She sends me a batch once a month.
- Well, I guess you'll have to be satisfied
with the food in the cafeteria.
- Now, let's see.
You've worked here at Oswald almost two years.
Do you like working here?
- If you're asking me whether I enjoy myself,
I'd have to say no.
- Then why do you want to stay?
- Because what we do here is important.
There's a real need for proper health care.
- Yeah, "proper" health care, not excessive.
I know you don't support
the privatization of the system here at Oz,
but by paying Weigert a fixed rate,
no matter what care the inmate requires,
the state reduces its costs.
- But because Weigert gets paid the same amount
no matter what treatment we prescribe,
wouldn't you limit my ability to call in specialists
or to use expensive tests?
- This is no different
than HMOs in the public sector.
- There is a difference.
The state has laws
to protect consumers against cuts
in medical services.
There are no such laws for inmates.
Weigert has no incentive to provide quality care.
- Look, we're both doctors.
I mean, I took the same oath you did.
- Then why cut Miguel Alvarez's antidepressants?
- Because, as I told you,
I consider this unnecessary care.
And if you hadn't spent too much money
on unnecessary care,
the state wouldn't have had to bring us in.
- Alvarez is suicidal.
- Well, maybe it's all for the best.
- What?
- Well, God knows he's not doing anyone any good alive.
- Fuck you.
- This interview is over.
I'm hereby giving you two weeks' notice.
- Knock yourself out, asshole.
[knocking]
- Ray. - Hi.
- What's going on? - Nothing.
- Do I look especially gullible to you today?
You hide a sandwich under your vestments,
which you never wear,
and I'm supposed to think it's SOP?
- Pete, I can't talk about it.
- Oh, some confidentiality between you and a prisoner.
- I'm due in Solitary.
- There's four Catholics currently residing in Solitary.
There's O'Brien. There's Bevilaqua.
Hevern. Alvarez.
You're bringing food that he likes to cheer him up.
No, because then there's no confidentiality problem.
You're bringing food to Alvarez because...
Because he's not being fed.
Because of what he did to Officer Rivera,
the COs in Solitary are trying to starve him.
- You should have been a cop.
- Did Alvarez tell you this?
How do you know he's telling the truth?
- Why would he lie? - Some prisoners,
particularly in Solitary, become delusional, paranoid.
- How do I find out if they're feeding him?
If I ask them and it's true, they're just gonna find
another way to fuck with him.
- Yeah.
- I have to give him the benefit of the doubt.
- So, what's with the dress?
High holy day or something?
[gate buzzes]
- Miguel.
Give us some privacy.
Here, eat.
- I'm not hungry.
- What do you mean you're not hungry?
You said you haven't eaten in two days.
Take the sandwich.
Take the damn sandwich!
- You want the fuckin' sandwich?
Fuck you!
Fucking shit!
Oh, fuck!
- Fucker.
- No. Stop!
- Get the fuck out!
♪ ♪
- Stop it!
Open this door!
For God's sake!
- I think Keller will live.
- Well, I'll start an inquiry,
try to figure out who stabbed him.
- Well, I got a guess: Schillinger.
- We need to prove that.
- Leo, excuse me.
We need to do more than that.
We need to deal with the ongoing violence
we have here between inmates
and between inmates and COs.
- Good luck. - Wait a minute.
What if we were to initiate a program
where victims of violence, prisoner or staff,
get to interact with the offender?
- Sorry I'm late. - Interact?
That sounds a little new age, Pete.
- Hear me out.
The process has to be initiated by the victim.
We can't force either party to participate
unless they want to.
If both parties agree, I will meet with them separately
and talk about what they might be getting
out of this eventual interaction,
and only then, when they're both ready,
do they actually get to meet face-to-face.
- And then what?
Talk about their feelings?
- Yeah, the victim expresses his fear, his anger, whatever,
and the offender gets to express his remorse or whatever,
and, hopefully, they can both move on.
- I think it's a great idea.
I just wish that I had thought of it.
- Miguel...
[speaking Spanish]
- Ay, mami.
- [speaking Spanish]
- Alvarez, what?
- Leo, I want Sister Pete's new program
to start with Eugene Rivera and Miguel Alvarez.
- Oh, really?
- She'll talk to Alvarez,
and then she'll contact Rivera,
see if he's interested, and if he is,
I want you to release Miguel from Solitary.
- You know, I heard about what happened today.
I think that'd be enough to convince you
that Alvarez is where he belongs.
Besides, the other COs wouldn't like it.
- You can override them. - I agree with them.
Alvarez blinded a fellow officer.
He should rot.
- The next act of violence that he commits
will be to himself.
We are a heartbeat away from having no heartbeat at all.
- So be it.
- Leo, I know that you and Miguel
had some rough moments
after your daughter was raped.
- He knows who did it, and he won't tell.
- I thought you'd put those feelings aside.
- So did I, Father.
I guess we were both wrong.
- When Napoleon died in exile, the doctors cut off his dick.
They put his dick in an ornate box
and gave it to his priest.
Don't ask me why.
Over the years, Napoleon's dick was sold
and sold again to the highest bidder.
To this day, at least three people claim
to own Napoleon's dick.
But you see, it's not important who owns the real dick.
The big question is, well,
who the fuck do those other two dicks belong to?
[tense jazzy music]
♪ ♪