[bright tone]
[tense, jazzy music]
♪ ♪
- "Know thyself."
That's what Socrates said or Aristotle
or one of them dead white men.
To know yourself is the hardest thing any one of us can ever do.
- Except that I felt very guilty.
So that was very much a Catholic thing.
[edgy music]
♪ ♪
[soft moan]
Ohh... [gate buzzes]
- Hey, Keller. - Yo.
Yeah, I got you scheduled for a 10:00 a.m. session
with Sister Peter Marie.
- Yeah...yeah.
Well, it's almost 10:00 now.
- Aw, yeah. You know something?
I don't wanna go.
I wanna check in some gym time.
- Suit yourself. Take him.
- [sucks teeth]
[edgy music]
♪ ♪
[gate buzzes]
- Keller gone?
- Never came.
Second appointment he's missed.
Is he okay?
- Yeah. He seems okay.
We don't really talk much.
[folder slaps on table]
- When you do talk,
has he ever...said anything about our sessions?
- Nope.
Sister Pete, are you all right?
- Yeah.
- You're lying. - I swear to God.
- [laughs]
- What's going on with you and Sister Peter Marie?
- Going on?
- You missed two appointments, and she's a mess.
- Mmm.
I don't know what you're talking about.
- If you're gonna fuck with her, Keller,
I'm gonna fuck with you.
Fuckin' bitch.
- What was that about?
- Ah, it's his time of the month.
- All right, let's go.
- Miguel's on his way.
Hello, Miguel. Thank you, Officer.
[door closes] Eugene and Tina Rivera,
Miguel Alvarez.
All right, everybody.
Our purpose here today is to, uh,
provide an environment for discussion.
Sit down, Miguel.
To ask and answer questions...
to share experiences.
Now, a few ground rules.
Allow me to lead the meeting,
refrain from interruptions,
tell the truth, no profanity,
and most importantly, listen.
Okay.
Why don't you begin, Eugene?
- I can't see you, Alvarez.
I'm looking right at you, and I can't see you.
Can you see me?
What?
- Yeah.
- Can you see my wife?
- Yes.
- You're a lucky man.
I asked Tina to marry me,
'cause I wanted to wake up every day
for the rest of my life
and see her face, first thing.
But instead, 'cause of you,
I'll never see her face again.
Do you know something about me which I don't,
a reason I deserve this?
- No. - Miguel,
have you thought about
what this might be like for him?
- Kinda.
- Kinda?
- So why go after me, huh?
Not Metzger, not Wittlesey,
not Glynn, or McManus or Sister Pete.
Me, Alvarez. Why?
- Answer him, God damn it!
- Tina! - No! He's asking why.
- All right. - Why do we
have to live with this?
Why do we have to argue about having a kid?
We shouldn't have to argue about having a fucking kid!
- Tina, please. Please sit down.
- Yeah, honey, sit.
- You see, Miguel, that's why Eugene and Tina are here.
Tell them why it happened.
- I can't.
- Was it a gang thing?
Did you do it 'cause of Hernandez?
You earned your cajones by blinding me?
- Started out that way, yeah.
But, uh, this place...
I hate this fuckin' place,
what it did to my grandpa,
my dad and me.
I don't know you, you know?
I had nothing against you.
It's your uniform, bro.
It was an hermano in that uniform, man.
- I want my eyes back.
- I know.
Sorry. - You're what?
- I'm sorry. - No!
I said, I want my eyes back.
Give 'em back to me.
- I can't. - Why not?
You took 'em.
- Forgive me?
- Fuck you.
Eugene,
Miguel asked you a question.
Can you forgive him?
[die clatter]
- Not today.
- All right, but let-- let's leave the door open
for the possibility of another meeting, okay?
Eugene?
- Maybe.
[distorted sound wind-down]
[dark chords]
♪ ♪
- Clark Kent is the secret identity of Superman.
I never understood why Superman needed a secret identity.
Listen, if I'm invulnerable, right,
all the chicks want me.
Why would I disguise myself as a four-eyed wimp?
The truth?
Superman is schizophrenic. Mm-hmm, yeah.
Superman's id is fuckin' with his superego.
The man's conflicted, no doubt about it.
[gate buzzes]
- Hey--
- Hello, Chris.
- How are you, Sister?
- Can I talk to you?
- Yeah, sure.
Let's go in here.
You won.
Sorry about this.
- You missed our last two sessions. Why?
- Ever since our last time together,
when you got me to open up, I've been afraid to come back,
afraid to expose any more of myself to you.
I mean, you know, the reality is, Sister, I hate myself.
- All the more reason why you should have come to me.
- [sighs]
You're probably right.
Do you know what it's like to want somebody,
to...long for them,
and I'm not talking about sex, I'm just--
Just to touch them?
- Yeah.
- Of course you do.
You're a psychologist, you're a nun,
but you're a woman first.
You know about desire.
[pounding on glass]
- Everything all right in there, Sister?
- I'm fine.
I can help you, Chris.
- I know you can. Talk to Beecher.
Counsel him.
Convince him.
- Tell him that you love him, and that he loves you.
- Mm-hmm.
- And that's what this has all been about, hasn't it?
The sessions, the questions about my personal life,
getting me to care...
so I can help you reach Beecher.
- You can do it. He trusts you.
- You still don't see it, do you?
That's the whole problem, Chris.
He trusted you. You broke his trust.
Now he can't trust you again.
- Yeah, but I've changed.
- Have you?
You manipulated me the way you did him...
And I don't trust you... anymore.
- Wait a minute, Sister. Wait a minute.
- Chris... [dark chords]
let go of me.
- Hell hath no fury, huh, Sister?
Ah...ha ha.
- Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.
I had lust in my heart.
- You...haven't acted on this lust.
- No.
But, uh...
- You may.
- No.
- Then...
- Well, it's, uh...
it's--it's opened up all of these feelings in me,
feelings that I thought I had paved over years ago,
and, uh...
now that I'm back in touch with these feelings, I--I--
Well, i-it seems wrong to shut them off again.
I owe it to my soul
to be all of the things that I am,
all of the parts of myself.
- And so...
- I've decided to leave the convent...
[edgy music]
♪ ♪
To stop being a nun.
♪ ♪
- Come on. Help yourself out.
We found the heroin on you, in your pocket.
Where'd you get it?
- Que?
- Don't fuck with me, Hernandez.
I could tack on another five just for obstruction.
And think what I could do with a possession charge.
- Que?
- Okay.
I got two more of your compadres to talk to,
and I'm willing to bet at least one of them
values his ass over yours.
Get him the fuck outta here.
Carlo, wanna help me out?
Help? How?
- I know you think you're a bad ass
like Hernandez and Guerra,
but I've been watching you-- you're not.
Your family visits regularly.
You come from a better place than those two other fucks.
Now, I could make life a lot easier for you.
Where is Hernandez getting the drugs?
- Que?
- Take him back to the Hole.
Till you talk, you will not see an inch of daylight,
and if I find out what I need to know from anybody else,
you'll never see it again.
"Que."
- I'm here to see my brother, Carlo Ricardo.
- Ricardo...
Uh, sorry.
- Well, it is visiting day, isn't it?
- Yes, but your brother's in Ad Seg.
- What's that?
- It means he's been segregated from the other prisoners.
He's had all his privileges taken away,
including visitation rights.
- But I have to see him.
- Sure. Not today.
- You don't understand.
- If I had a nickel for every time I didn't understand,
you'd be talking to an empty chair.
- Where's your superior?
- Miss, I'm really trying to be pleasant.
- I am not leaving until I talk to someone in charge.
- In Oz, see, we don't really take too well to demands.
- I have to see my brother.
- Well, he got caught dealing drugs,
and he refuses to talk,
so we don't have any choice but to keep him in the Hole.
- Well, can I see him in there?
- No. You'll come back when he gets out.
- But you don't understand.
I am all he's got.
- Well, I-- - Luis is disappearing,
days at a time.
Isabella-- fuckin' baby crying.
Juan is an asshole.
Mama goes between the apartment and work and the hospital...
- I'm sorry, but-- - I got a job in Oakland.
It's good money.
I have to take it to support my family.
I leave tomorrow.
I can't get there and right away say,
"I gotta go home to see my brother in prison."
Course, they don't even know I have a brother in prison.
I don't want him to think that I've abandoned him,
that he's dead to me.
Just for one minute, to tell him--
just one minute, I promise.
- [exhales]
- I'm sorry.
I can't.
There's just no way. Uh...
But you can write him a note, and...
I'll see that he gets it.
- This'll kill him.
[dark chords]
- Lopresti, I gotta split. Do me a favor.
Take this to Carlo Ricardo in the Hole.
- Okay. - Thanks a lot.
See you tomorrow.
- Hey, Lopresti,
since when do you take messages to that fucking spic?
- Yeah, fuck that.
[intense chords]
♪ ♪
- [indistinct yelling]
Fuck off!
You ain't so bad now, hack, huh?
- Hello, Roger. - Lenore.
- Long time, huh? - Look at you.
You look great. - Thank you.
You know, I'm just dropping Clayton off,
and I wanted to say hi to Leo.
He was supposed to meet us down here.
- My car's still in the shop.
- Clayton's embarrassed.
- I am not, Mom. - It's all right.
- Well, it's good to see you,
and it's good to have Clayton with us.
- Oh, my! Oh, my!
- [chuckling] - Oh!
- Well... - It's so strange
being back in here.
- Yeah, I can imagine.
- You know, I told your wife this morning
that I didn't think I could come in this door,
but Clayton's never been happier.
He loves his job.
- Mom.
- I have something for you.
Found it in the attic.
You and Sammy were so young.
- Yeah, we were.
Thanks, Lenore.
- Keep him there, close to your heart.
And this one, too, keep him safe.
- Of course.
Don't you worry.
- Bye.
Happy birthday, Clayton.
- Happy birthday.
- I got it. - I can't find 'em.
- It's the, uh... drawer on the right.
- Right. [clattering]
Nope.
- Well, we can't have a birthday cake without candles.
- Oh, I'll go into town and I'll buy some.
- No, Hughes' shift starts in ten minutes.
I got everybody meeting at the library at 12:00.
- You know, this was a really great idea, Diane,
throwing Clayton a surprise party.
- Yeah. Well, my heart goes out to the kid.
One, because I know what it's like starting work here,
everybody thinking you don't have the balls for the job.
Two, his dad...
- You know, I've been checking into that,
the circumstances surrounding his dad's death.
- Did you find anything out?
- I talked to William Giles, who was in the cafeteria
when Hughes got stabbed, and...
he claims...
and I don't even know whether to believe him or not,
and if I do believe him, I don't know what to do about it,
and if I do do something about it, who knows what'll happen?
- Ray, you're raving.
- He says that Sam Hughes was stabbed by Leo.
- Leo who? DiCaprio?
- Glynn.
- Leo Glynn? - Yes.
- Giles is delusional.
- I know.
You know, and I dismiss it, and then I think,
well, maybe...
maybe that's why the murderer was never identified.
Something tells me that Leo has never told the whole truth.
- What about a votive candle?
- What? - For the cake.
Can't we steal some of those candles you use at mass?
- Yeah, I guess. I'll go get some.
I'll go meet you in the library.
- Ray, if you seriously doubt Leo,
you owe it to the man to tell him.
[dark chords]
[overlapping cheering]
- Hey, Leo, you got a minute?
- Sure. Walk me to my office.
- Okay. Look, like I told you,
I'm talking to people about Sam Hughes.
- Yes? Well, let me guess, you came up with something.
- Well, maybe. William Giles--
- Who's looney tunes. - Look, I don't think
that he's so much crazy as just afraid to be sane,
and he claims--
Well, he says... - What?
- That you killed Sam Hughes.
Leo, you have talked to Clayton about what happened that day.
You have told him the truth,
but if there's more to that truth,
then he has a right to hear it,
however hard it is for you to say.
- God damn it, Ray.
I don't have to explain myself to you.
- No, you don't.
But you do to Clayton.
It's like a confession.
It needs to be made once...
And only to the person who can absolve you.
- Get the fuck out of my office.
[tense music]
♪ ♪
- Hey, it's time to open up. - Go ahead.
We're almost done.
- Thanks for this, Diane. - Oh, sure.
Promise me when my birthday comes, we don't celebrate it.
- [ chuckles] - Hey, O'Reily.
- Hey what? - Your brother
fight like a girl, man. - Oh, yeah?
You wanna go a couple rounds with him, homey?
- Bitch, I'll take you and your brother.
- You and what fuckin' army, motherfucker?
- Hey, knock it off. - Hey, don't talk to me, man.
Talk to the brother, here. - Sit down.
- I didn't come here to sit down.
- Sit the fuck down. - What're you gonna do?
You gonna spank me, huh? - You got a problem...
Get your fucking hands-- [thud]
- Oh, fuck!
- Yo, beat it, beat it, beat it.
- Get the fuck outta here.
- Oh...
- Don't--Don't-- Don't move.
- She gonna be okay?
- A few stitches, mild concussion.
- What the fuck were you thinking?
- I was trying to maintain order.
- Way I hear it, wasn't much to maintain.
I've warned you before...
- So what, are you gonna fire me?
- Sit down.
[sighs]
I want to tell you about the day your father died.
Your dad and I were both on duty.
I made up my mind that when I first walked into Oz,
that I was going to treat each situation
as a worst-case scenario.
Sam knew better.
He tried to hold me back.
Tried.
But I was... I was too young,
too...determined,
Too stupid.
Broke the fight up all right,
but I tripped or slipped on the slop on the floor,
and I was stunned,
losing control,
and then all my wind left me.
Your dad had to get involved.
You okay?
Okay.
He fell right next to me.
I didn't know what the fuck was happening.
By then, other officers responded.
I just held him
till he died
in my arms...
At the hands of my stupidity.
[inmates shouting]
- [exhales]
- Are you okay?
- Yeah. Yeah, I'll be fine.
It's just I have to go home
to my daughter looking like this now.
- Diane, when I heard you got hurt, I went crazy.
- Tim, don't. - Don't what?
Don't be honest?
Look, I...
I've been thinking-- or feeling--
I know I've been all over the place and back with this thing,
but maybe we could try it again,
together.
- If I didn't have this golf ball on my head right now,
I would think that was more political than romantic.
- What do you mean by that?
- Oh, if it isn't the lovebirds.
[edgy music]
♪ ♪
- I knew a man, worked on Wall Street,
wore a bra and panties under his Brooks Brothers suit.
Every day, he'd sit in meetings,
making harsh decisions and cold business deals.
Yet underneath, he felt pretty.
Oh, so pretty.
- Done. - And?
- And I'm telling you, Mr. Nappa--
and I'm not prone to hyperbole--
but this may be the greatest true-crime book
since "In Cold Blood".
- Really?
I never read that.
- It was chilling. This is better.
We're going to send this to that literary agent right now.
- Uh, be careful. If any of the other wise guys
find out I wrote a book about the Mob, we're dead.
- Oh, I'll be careful.
And to celebrate, I wanna make dinner.
And I think we should get dressed to the nines.
- Well, I... - Aw, come on.
Please. - We'll see, we'll see.
- Officer, I'm not feeling very well.
Would it be possible for me to go to the E.R.?
- Give him a carton.
Yo, your friend's gonna take care of
that other matter for me, right?
Fuckin' rat.
[cracking]
- Did I overdress?
- Oh, Jesus.
- Ta-da!
- Ya know, you look a lot like my ex-wife.
- Thanks.
- That's not a compliment.
- Sit. - [softly] That's nice.
- Pour this. - Wine!
- [chuckling]
- You're not the only one who can move merchandise.
- There you go.
- To your book,
to your life,
and the successful completion of both.
- I ain't dead yet.
- No, you're not.
- Pretty good.
- In his day, Antonio Nappa was a great man.
He was like a father to me.
Well, more like an uncle.
- Lights out!
- Mr. Nappa?
[intense music]
♪ ♪
- Good citizens of Gotham City
have to be the dumbest fucks on the planet.
They got Batman and Robin saving their asses
from the Riddler and Joker and such.
They also got millionaire Bruce Wayne
and his ward, Dick Grayson, in the headlines every day.
Batman and Robin, Bruce and Dick--
now, you mean to tell me nobody ever put two and two together?
[gate buzzes]
- I want to see the Warden.
- What for?
- My business.
- Adebisi, you oughta know by now
that your business is my business.
- I wanna file a complaint.
- About?
- Tim McManus.
- You're accusing McManus of sexual harassment?
- That's right.
- What'd he do to you?
- Not me.
Kenny Wangler.
Yesterday, he touched Kenny's penis.
- Officer.
Bring Wangler in.
Sit down.
This is a very serious charge.
And if I find out you're lying...
- I ain't-- I ain't lying.
- The burden of truth is on you.
- Look, it ain't like I ain't had to deal
with guys in here groping on me.
I just been all fucked up lately,
sad about my life and whatnot.
And McManus puts his arm around my shoulder like a friend.
Only it's not like a friend.
I was gonna just blow it off,
but Adebisi was, like, "don't."
He says, "What goes on with us prisoners is one thing and...
what goes on with McManus is...something else."
- He said what?
- That you fondled him.
- That is complete horseshit. I tried to comfort him.
Leo, you're not taking any of this seriously, are you?
- Claire Howell accuses you of sexual harassment, but...
she's full of shit, too.
- Yeah.
- I'd like to know when it stops--
when it stops being everybody else's problem.
- You make it sound like I'm a sex addict.
- Maybe you are.
Since the day you came to Oz, I've watched you
jump in and out of beds, and I held my tongue,
even though I thought what you were doing
was pretty disgusting.
- Wangler's lying.
- Probably. But then again,
maybe there are other inmates who never stepped forward.
You know what? I don't know.
And I don't know how to find out.
But if this is true, you're finished here.
[dark chords]
[bell rings]
- Rick Donn? - Yes.
- I'm a big fan of your news program.
Very hard-hitting.
- Thank you.
You said on the phone that you have a story for me?
- Yes. It's all about sex.
♪ ♪
[not audible]
[intense percussive music]
♪ ♪
- Mr. McManus, can we get a comment from you about these
sexual harassment charges? - Get out of my office!
- In an exclusive, Channel 2 News has learned
that Tim McManus, the unit manager
at Oswald Correctional Facility
has been repeatedly accused of sexually harassing
both inmates and correctional officers.
McManus was initially accused of harassing a female officer,
Claire Howell.
The state's attorney has confirmed that the Howell case
was settled out of court.
- Oh, boy, Miss Sally.
Do you think her boobs are real?
[TV music plays]
- Taking Wangler to Gen Pop now.
Call your lawyer? - Yep.
- And she said?
- Be patient.
Go about your life.
Act normal.
Acting normal's what got me into trouble in the first place.
- It's gonna be all right. - Yeah.
- Hello. I'm Tim McManus.
- Yes, hello.
I really appreciate your coming, taking time out
of what I know is a busy, busy schedule.
- Well, to tell you the truth,
I'm very curious as to why you asked me here.
- Please, be seated.
Would you like some tea?
- No.
- May I call you Tim? - Sure.
- Well, Tim...
in the past few weeks,
I've suffered a series of stunning blows.
Richie Hanlon's murder...
- Yeah, we're still investigating.
- And yesterday, my new lawyer, who is court-appointed
and who I do not like at all
told me that the state supreme court
rejected my final appeal.
Next Thursday is the date set for the...
execution.
That's the first time I've said that word out loud--
the execution.
My execution.
Well, the Warden informed me that I may choose the means
in which I will die.
And I was hoping you might help me pick one out.
- Me?
- Richie always spoke so highly of you,
said you were a good man.
- Did he?
- If you were going to die, which way would you choose?
- Well, I'm, uh...
I'm... [laughs]
I'm not sure, uh...
They say that lethal injection is the least painful.
- Oh, pain is definitely part of the consideration.
- I would say the only consideration.
- No.
The style in which I die must have a sort of...
lyricism, if you will, some significance.
- Ah.
There's the gas chamber.
- Oh, they say the gas turns your skin green.
- Well, how about a hanging?
When you die, your feet do a little dance,
a little... dance of death.
- Well, Richie was right about you.
A hanging, that's perfect.
I wanna go out of this life dancing.
Thank you, kind sir.
You know, Richie had a little crush on you.
- Did he?
- Uh-huh.
And I can see why.
- Officer.
- You mustn't despair over this sexual harassment thing.
- You know about that?
- Even on death row, rumor lives.
- Next item, puncture-resistant vests.
Diane? - Well, we all know
that attacks on COs are on the rise.
- 1 every hour. 10,000 a year.
- These vests, they're similar to the Kevlar ones
worn by the cops on the street, except these are shank-proof
as well as being bulletproof.
- They also cost $400 apiece.
I don't have that kind of money in the budget.
- Are you ready for this?
Gloria Nathan just examined Shirley Bellinger.
She's pregnant.
- [whispers] Holy fuck.
- Cyril, would you please settle the fuck down?
- Well, I'm boxing. - Yeah, I know.
- O'Reily.
Oh, yo, whoa, slugger.
- Cyril, Cyril, Cyril, Cyril, isn't it about time
for "Miss Sally's Schoolyard"?
- No. - Cyril.
Go outside and wait, all right?
Cyril, please.
- Hey, O'Reily, yo,
who you betting on in today's fight,
Khan or the faggot? - Neither.
I'm sitting this one out.
- You've bet on the winner every match so far.
How come you decide to sit this one out?
- Because whoever wins today's fight
has to fight my brother next week for the championship.
I don't wanna bring on a jinx.
- Never took you for superstitious.
- Hey, I'm a man of logic, I'm a man of planning.
I consider every detail, I factor in every possibility.
Then I flip a coin. - Okay.
But if you were gonna bet, who would you bet on?
- All right.
Khan. He's got the power and the discipline.
- So you're saying the Muslim.
- Well, Cramer's got the speed and the style.
- So you're saying the faggot.
[male yelling]
- Yo, Cyril.
Cyril.
Cut it out, man. Whoa, whoa, hey, hey!
- Get the fuck away from me. - Hey, hey, hey!
- Fuck off! Fuck off!
- Hey, hey... - Fuck off!
- Cyril, stop it.
- Fuckin' fruitcake.
- I'm boxing. - Stop!
- I'm boxing.
- Sorry about that, Officer Murphy.
Ever since he beat Pancamo,
my brother's been a little frisky.
- You, save your fists for the ring, all right?
- Yes, sir.
- Watch your brother, O'Reily, okay?
You don't want him disqualified from the championship
because he ended up in the Hole.
- What the fuck are you thinkin', huh?
- When I fight, people cheer, right?
- Yeah. - I like when they cheer.
- I'm not scared anymore. That's good, Cyril,
but you don't have to fight all the time, okay?
- I don't? - No, you don't.
- But, Ryan, you do.
- The man you're boxing today
represents all that's repulsive
to our faith regarding sexual desire.
Your victory over Jason Cramer will be a victory for purity,
for righteousness,
for Allah.
- Hello, boys.
- Go away, Adebisi.
We're in the middle of our study group.
- How do you know I don't
want to learn about Islam? - Be serious.
- Stranger things have happened.
Beecher, Said.
- Adebisi, get to your point.
- My point is simple.
We all share the same skin.
They don't.
Don't beat Cramer because he likes boys.
Beat him because he's white.
- Hey.
- What do you want, Schillinjer?
- Schilling-er.
What I want is for you to focus on something
other than your dick.
- You know, all this time we've been in Unit B together,
you've never given two shits about me.
Now that I'm boxing that Muslim, you're my best pal.
Musta been kind of hard deciding who to root for, huh?
Let's see, the fag or the nigger?
But then again, you know a lot more about
what it's like having your cock sucked
than having an afro.
- You better watch your mouth, Tinker Bell,
or Khan's going to win by default.
[overlapping shouting, jeering]
- Fruit! Fruit!
[overlapping shouting]
[bell dings]
- Kill that white bitch! - Fucking punch him!
[voices chanting] Kill the white bitch!
Kill the white bitch!
[overlapping shouting]
[bell dings]
- C'mon, man, you ain't tired.
- [wolf whistle]
[bell dings]
- Way to work the jay, baby.
That's right!
- Allah Akbar! - Allah Akbar!
- All right. All right.
Ho!
From the judges scorecard,
we have from judge one, 30/29 khan.
- Yeah! [inmates cheer]
Hell, yeah!
- Ho!
Judge two--
judge two has it
29/28 Cramer.
- Yeah!
[overlapping boos]
- And judge three--
judge three has it 30/29,
the winner by split decision,
Amid Khan.
[commotion]
- You see that, huh?!
- People live their whole lives thinking they know who they are:
husband, mother, son,
lawyer, doctor, pizza delivery boy,
Baptist, Jew, Muslim,
Italian, Irish, WASP,
black, white, yellow,
male, female.
Then something comes along
and blows all those illusions to shit,
and you're left with the truth--
the lonely, terrifying truth.
- Allah Akbar.
- Beecher, you are Said's bodyguard.
- Well, sorta.
Not really.
- I wanna see him.
- Yeah.
- Up and down--life in Oz.
First I was king, then I was looney.
Now, I'm king again.
- Congratulations.
- You and me, we come at the world from different paths.
But there's something about I've always admired.
- And me, you.
- You are alone.
But it doesn't have to be that way.
Join me.
- I am very honored.
- But you refuse.
They will kill you, you know.
- Probably.
- Beecher can't protect you.
- [small laugh] Probably not.
But I'm ready to take whatever journey Allah has chosen for me.
- We could never hurt Said
'cause he always had goddamn bodyguards.
Now we get to kill him and Beecher.
- Can I sit here? - No.
- Well, that's kind of stupid.
You need firepower.
- No.
- Fuck you both.
- Beecher,
you came to me wanting to learn how to get closer to God
because of your part in the death of Andrew Schillinger.
The guilt you carry can only be lightened by forgiveness.
- I want to be forgiven.
- So you must forgive
Schillinger and Keller.
- I can't. - Beecher, you must.
- Well, what about you?
Don't you have to forgive Hamid Khan?
[dark, edgy music]
♪ ♪
- You are to stay here.
- Peace be unto you.
- Asalaam alaikum, my brothers.
- Nacim, let him in.
So what do you want, black man?
- Oh, Khan...
five years ago, I was a very different man--
selfish, ambitious, manipulative, arrogant.
One day, I'm in Mecca,
and the words of the Prophet, praise be unto him,
filled me with the grace and the glory of Allah.
I wanted nothing more than to show others
the visions I had seen, the possibilities.
I studied, became a teacher, a leader.
But despite all my righteous intentions,
I was still selfish, ambitious, manipulative
and even more arrogant.
What's happened over the past few months
has humbled me.
I have been humbled,
but not by you.
By God.
Stripped of everything else.
I have nothing left but Allah.
And that is more than enough.
Peace be unto you, my brother.
[tense, jazzy music]
♪ ♪
- What the hell was that?
- Ya Allah!
In the name of Allah, the magnificent merciful,
have I witnessed that there is but one God...
Allah.
I confess my faults.
Guide me to the right path.
My prayers, my life, my death,
are all for Allah.
Allah Akbar.
- Fuck, fuck.
Fuck. [pounding keyboard]
Fuck!
- That's not how you do it.
- Oh, ho, fuck.
Hey, I, uh...
I loved Said's floor show out there.
- I want to talk to you.
- All right. What?
- Said has helped me see things a lot more clearly,
Chris, and... - Chris?
Chris.
[chuckles] Chris.
- I forgive you.
And I ask that you forgive me.
- I love you.
- Kiss me.
- Asalaam alaikum.
- Let's go. Faster, come on.
Stop fucking around. This is important.
Faster, Cyril. Faster.
- O'Reily, come here.
- I'm busy. Faster.
- There's money in the air.
- Keep working.
- I want you to help me kill Said.
- Said? He's nobody anymore.
- Even so, I got to think of a way to bring him down.
- Without Beecher suspecting, right, Keller?
Truth is, bro, you don't got to do nothing.
Rumor has it the Aryans are going to whack Said.
- Yeah, when?
- I'd say right now.
- I know you're gonna think this is bullshit,
but I feel badly about my part in Andy's death.
I'm so sorry.
Losing a kid... there's nothing worse.
And I want to make it up to you.
- How?
How the fuck will you ever make that up to me?
- You have another son. You don't know where he is.
Through the private investigators
at my old law office, I could find him.
- And that's supposed to even the score?
Make everything okay between us?
- It's a start.
- Beecher, you're crazier than I thought.
There's only one thing that's gonna make this all okay.
You...dead.
- No!
- Cyril, Cyril, Cyril--no!
[alarm blaring] [men shouting]
- Aah! - Beecher!
Beecher!
[alarm blaring] Beecher!
- Ah...fuck.
Lockdown! [guard shouting]
Come on, come on, come on. Move it.
Let's go. Move it.
- People are defined by three things:
[gate buzzes] their heads...
How they think...
Their hearts...
what they feel...
their dicks...
who they fuck.
At the end of the day,
each of us has to answer one question...
One not so simple question.
Who am I?