[bright tone]
[tense jazzy music]
♪ ♪
[ominous music]
[tense percussive tones]
[keys rattling]
- Oz...
The name on the street
for the Oswald State Correctional Facility,
level four.
[alarm blaring]
You may have heard on the news
that we've been having a little, uh,
tension around here.
Well, after 14 fun-filled days
of sitting in your cells,
smelling your roomie's farts,
a man is ready to forgive everybody
for everything,
just to come up for air.
[tense percussive tones]
♪ ♪
- Attention, the following will step out of their pods:
93A234, Adebisi;
978622, Arif;
97S444, Said;
99P334, Pinkerton;
95B327, Bismilla;
85T612, Tyrell;
95W856, Wolf;
and 88A578, Hamad.
Get in line behind officer Howard.
- All right, that's it, move it along.
Let's go. Move it along.
- What the fuck is going on?
- What do you mean?
- They're taking all the niggers.
[loud chatter]
- All right, quiet.
I said, quiet!
Shut up, now!
♪ ♪
For the past two weeks,
we have been in 24-hour lockdown.
Now, I'm not gonna go into the specifics
as to what caused this situation.
You know it.
I've brought you together to say this:
when the lockdown ends depends on you.
It is my intention to put this prison
back on a routine schedule.
But, hear me good.
If there is one single incident
of race-related violence,
I will lock you away again,
black and white,
24-7,
for the rest of your fucking lives.
- See?
All that shit you talk ain't gonna do nothing.
- Be patient, Kenny, I have a plan.
- Is Glynn fucking crazy?
This ain't over.
- I know, the niggers are up to something.
- And so with order restored,
warden Leo Glynn has ended the lockdown.
In a related story,
the wife of inmate Hamid Khan
has won a state supreme court ruling
to have her husband removed from life support.
Khan, who was serving a 10-year sentence
for aggravated assault,
went into a coma after being hit in the head
during a prison boxing match.
- McManus wants to see you.
- The family's in with khan now,
saying their final farewells.
And they've asked that you say a prayer over the body,
just before the end.
- Bearing in mind
what happened between Khan and I?
I'm honored they asked for me.
[alarm beeping]
- With brother Khan gone,
we'll need someone to lead us.
- I bet I know who you have in mind.
Yourself.
- Yes.
But, I need to know, Said.
Will you oppose me?
- No, Arif.
I've lost the taste.
- The taste?
- For power.
I hope you use yours more wisely than I did.
- Let's go.
- [chanting prayers]
- The man I hit,
is he getting better?
- Yeah, he'll be fucking fine in about 10 minutes.
Now go to sleep, Cyril, now.
[Said chanting]
Oh, Allah, forgive him and have mercy upon him.
Give him peace and pardon him.
[slow beeping]
[rapid beeping]
[flatlines]
[tense percussive tones]
[bell chimes]
- What do you want?
You killed me, Cyril.
- I didn't mean to.
- Then what about him?
- Who is that?
- It's Preston Nathan, Gloria's husband.
[bell chimes]
We're never gonna leave you, Cyril.
We're gonna be right here inside your head forever,
for all eternity.
[bell rings louder]
- [screaming]
Ahhh!
Cyril, Cyril, shh, hey, hey, hey!
Wake up!
Shh... Shh.
Shh, it's all right, shh.
[Cyril sobbing]
- My brother Cyril, you know,
he keeps on having those terrible nightmares.
- The valium is not helping him to sleep?
- No, we gotta try something else.
- As I said before,
the nightmares are rooted in his guilt
for causing those deaths.
- Yeah.
- And the cure for your brother
is to alleviate his guilt.
And, in the case of Hamid Khan,
I'm not even sure that's possible.
However, with Gloria Nathan's husband...
- I'll do anything. Anything.
- You heard about the interaction program I started?
Victims and/or victims' families
sit down with the person who hurt them and talk.
- Talk about what?
- Their feelings, their anger, whatever.
And the guilty person gets a chance
to express remorse.
- Yeah, okay, yeah.
Sign Cyril up for that program.
- Wait a minute, both of you.
- What?
- I am not about to ask Gloria
and Preston's parents to join us
unless you both participate.
- Hey, I got no problem with that.
- No, absolutely not.
I can't even be in the same room
with the O'Reilly brothers.
It makes my skin crawl.
- This is a chance to put the past to rest.
- I could give a shit about Cyril O'Reilly
sleeping better.
Hell, I'll quadruple his dosage of valium,
maybe he'll sleep permanently.
- Gloria, this is not about Cyril and you know it.
This could give Preston's mom and dad
a chance to have closure.
You could have closure.
- Closure?
People always think I'm a nurse.
No matter how many times
they hear me referred to as "Dr. Nathan",
they call out to me, "hey, nurse."
Now, I don't know if that's because
I'm a woman or Latina.
Maybe I'm just too goddamned nice to be a doctor.
- Does this mean you'll do it?
- It means I'm not taking shit from anyone anymore.
- Damn!
[tense percussive tones]
- Hey, Sister P., hey.
What did Gloria say?
- She says, no, Ryan, I'm sorry.
Maybe in time, she'll change her mind.
- Yeah, but what about Cyril?
I mean, come on.
- I guess we increase his dosage.
- What?
- Ahh!
- Ryan!
- [chuckles]
- What happened?
both: O'Reilly cut himself.
- There you go.
Now, how's that feel?
- Tight.
- You rest here for a while.
- Yeah.
[tense percussive tones]
- You know I asked Said to tell me about last night,
about Hamid Khan's death.
Said told me that you wrapped Khan's body
in a clean white cloth
and then added perfume and prayed.
- O'Reilly, you don't care about Hamid Khan.
- No, I do, I don't know.
I just wanted to make sure the fucking thing
got done right.
Hey, my brother won that fight fair and square.
- Congratulations, America.
This year, the prison population
has reached an all-time high,
two million.
Two million people are, what do you call it?
Incarcerated.
Two-fucking-million.
That's the population of Vienna.
That's the population of Houston, Texas.
The U.S. Of A has five percent
of the world's population,
yet it has 25 percent of the world's prisoners.
Whoopee!
- Bevilaqua.
Alvarez.
Giles.
McCullum.
Fuck me!
Command, this is C-11.
We have a 74, cell 23.
- [yelling]
- What happened?
- Is he dead?
- Yeah, but, Christ Almighty,
look at his arms and his legs.
- They're all chewed up.
- He ate himself.
- That's disgusting.
- Yeah, I'm gonna be filling out paperwork
for a month.
You goddamn piece of shit!
- The M.E. Has ruled McCullum's death as suicide.
He bit into his skin, chewing off chunks of muscle
over the course of a week or so,
causing himself to bleed out.
- Sweet Jesus!
- Like a cannibal.
- A cannibal eats somebody else's flesh.
- So, what do you call a guy who eats his own flesh?
- Inventive.
- How he did it
is not as important as what he did.
This is the third suicide we've had in solitary
in two years.
- Well, not to mention Alvarez's almost successful attempt.
- What's your point?
- We've got to do something about the conditions in there.
- Conditions?
It's solitary, for Christ's sake!
What do you want us to do?
Serve high-fucking-tea?
- There's no reason to talk like that.
No reason for the attitude.
- I'm sorry, I wish life in solitary
was all peaceful and rosy
like it is in Emerald City.
But, we get the dead-enders
you other units can't handle.
- I agree with Claire.
The only way to deal with these types of criminals
is to sit on them.
- Well, you got no arguments out of me, warden, but,
I think there is a compromise.
- Let's hear it.
- A lot of other maxs,
they give the dinks in solitary
one hour of rec time every day or so.
Very controlled.
- That's right.
So, if they get a chance to walk around,
they have more incentive to behave.
- It's worth a try.
- As long as it's my ass on the line,
any of you wanna volunteer to serve as escort?
Okay, Claire, enough.
Like Gloria says, it's worth a try.
- Bevilaqua!
[tense percussive tones]
[Jamaican music blaring]
♪ ♪
- Prisoner number 99B521,
Louis Bevilaqua.
Convicted, April 2, 1999.
Murder in the second degree,
illegal possession of a firearm.
Sentence: 25 years.
Up for parole in 12.
- Hey, Alvarez,
why you in solitary?
- This time, it's for killing Carlo Ricardo.
- Carlo's dead, you killed him?
- Well, yeah, I had to, El Cid sent me.
- Carlo was my cousin.
- You're supposed to be exercising your legs,
not your mouths, shut the fuck up.
[tense percussive tones]
[buzzer sounds]
- Bevilaqua says he just found out
Alvarez killed Carlo.
Bevilaqua wants to know, man,
if you want him to finish the job on Alvarez.
- Tell him, yes.
Tell him I want him dead already.
- Alvarez!
Bevilaqua.
- Hey, Aqua, man,
I got a funny story to tell you, bro.
You know, Glynn started giving me a hassle
about who raped his daughter,
so, he put me in solitary.
I told him Carlo did it.
- Carlo wasn't there.
- Yeah, I know.
What do you think will happen
when Glynn finds out you raped his kid?
- Command, this is C-11.
We need backup in the gymnasium, now!
I repeat, backup in the gymnasium!
- Bevilaqua's dead.
- What about Alvarez?
- Intensive care.
- Is he gonna live?
- Unfortunately.
- I hope this puts an end to rec time.
- Yeah,
but, I'm also transferring you to another unit.
- 'Cause I was right?
- Open the goddamned door.
- Peter... Peter Marie.
- Yeah, that's right.
William, why?
- I, little shaver, cookie jar,
mama mad, George Washington,
cherry tree, chop-chop.
- So, you told your mother the truth
about stealing the cookies?
- Chocolate chip, yum-yum.
- But, what has that got to do with
your attacking Bevilaqua and Alvarez?
- Liars, liars.
I kill, but, never lie.
Never, ever lie.
- Fucking Alvarez, man, he's got more lives than a cat!
- Yo, man, he still alive?
- He's barely, in the hospital ward.
- Well, you make sure that fucking scumbag
don't make it out of there, okay, pendejo?
[tense percussive tones]
♪ ♪
- This one's for me.
Shit!
- What's up?
Your sons?
- Yeah.
A cousin of mine sent it.
She heard about Andrew.
- Hard to get over losing a kid.
- Makes me miss my other son, Hank, that much more.
- You haven't heard from him, right?
- Not since I came to Oz.
When they're this young,
all you see is the possibilities.
[bell ringing]
Let's go.
- Oh, time to renew my subscription to "TV Guide."
- Hey, Beecher, this one's for you.
- It's empty.
- Yeah.
We had to confiscate the contents.
- A letter from my grandmother?
What could have possibly been in here
that you had to confiscate it?
- Well, if I told you, then you'd know.
[tense percussive tones]
♪ ♪
[buzzer sounds]
- Hello, Tobias.
- Father M.
- Is Pete around?
- Ah, no, she went into town to see her psychiatrist.
- She's seeing a psychiatrist?
- Yeah, ever since she started thinking about
not being a nun, I thought you knew.
- No.
- Well, it's really none of my business.
- How are you doing, Tobias?
- You know.
- Yeah.
Any more trouble with Vernon Schillinger?
- Well, there's always gonna be trouble,
at least until one of us ends up in the morgue.
- Oh, now, I don't believe that.
I know that the two of you
caused each other massive amounts of pain
over the years,
but, there's gotta be a way to call a truce.
- You've got to forgive Schillinger.
- I tried that and I ended up bleeding internally.
If it wasn't for Chris Keller, I'd be dead.
- Well, how did you let him know that you forgave him?
- What do you mean, how? I told him to his face.
- Well, maybe this time, you don't tell him.
Maybe this time, he just knows.
- So, any ideas?
- You must do something absolutely extraordinary
for Schillinger,
but, you must never tell him that you did it.
- Well, then how's he gonna know?
- All these things have a way of revealing themselves.
But when Schillinger does find out,
he'll see your gesture for exactly what it is.
An act of kindness, reconciliation.
- This is bullshit. - Chris.
- No, you're not going anything.
You got that?
- What, are you giving me an order?
- Fuck, yes.
♪ ♪
- Hello, Dad.
- Toby...
Oh, god, son, you look terrific.
- Well, better than the last time you were here.
- I've put some more money in your account.
- Thank you.
- There's not much else I can do, is there?
- Well, actually, Dad, there is.
One of the other prisoners,
Vernon Schillinger,
had two sons.
His oldest, Andrew, was...
died recently.
The other, Hank,
well, Vernon's lost track of him.
They're estranged.
I was hoping one of the PIs from the law firm
could do some digging.
- You wanna locate the boy.
- This is all the information
I've been able to pull together so far.
- Mm-hmm.
Well, I'll put Swanny on this.
He's the best private investigator we have.
- Thank you, Dad.
- Toby, I'm very proud of you.
- Proud?
- Well, here you are living in hell
with your own problems,
and you're trying to help a fellow inmate
to reunite with his last surviving son.
You are a remarkable human being.
- Yeah, I'm remarkable all right.
[indistinct chatter]
- Hey.
How's daddy?
- Good, great.
- You smell sexy.
- It's my father's aftershave.
- Mm-hmm.
- Hey, don't.
- What?
- I need to talk to you.
- So, what's so fucking important?
- Look, I know how you'll react.
- Jesus, what?
- I asked my father to locate Schillinger's other son.
- We discussed this, yeah, we agreed.
- No, we didn't agree.
- Oh, so, now all of a sudden,
you wanna help that fuck, Schillinger, huh?
- No, I wanna help us, you and me.
I wanna stop living every fucking day in fear.
- Hey, that's what being alive is all about, pal.
- It doesn't have to be.
Chris, sometimes, most times,
I wish I could wipe away the past.
I wish I could wipe away everything I've done,
everything I've said that hurt the people I love.
I wish I could look at people
and not see all the hurt they caused me.
And maybe, maybe this is the way
to start making that wish come true.
- Are you listening to yourself, man?
What are you, Tinkerbell?
You wishing upon a star?
- I'm partially responsible for Andrew Schillinger's death.
I need to atone for that.
So should you.
- You know what?
Oz didn't make you a bitch.
You were born one.
- Yeah, okay.
♪ ♪
- Shit.
- [screaming]
- Come on, you bitch!
- Hey, who started it?
- I fucking started it!
I'm nobody's bitch!
You know what a fucking bitch, you cunt!
- All right, guys, break it up.
♪ ♪
- I'm nobody's bitch.
- Now, most citizens would say, "two million inmates?
I got no problem with that because crime is down."
But, California,
which increased its prison population
at a much higher rate, than, say, New York,
had a smaller drop in crime.
Cause and effect?
I don't think so.
- Shirley Bellinger,
who sat on death row for a year
awaiting execution for the murder
of her young daughter,
will be returning to Oswald State
Correctional Facility today.
Bellinger's death sentence had been commuted
when she became pregnant while serving time.
But, after she miscarried under suspicious circumstances,
Governor Devlin revoked his decision.
- Here you go, Shirley.
- Well, can't I have my old cell back?
- As you can see, it's occupied.
- Well, maybe he'd switch with me.
Would you switch with me?
- Sorry, sister, I'm all spread out.
- I'll make it worth your while.
- Honey, there's nothing you've got that I want.
- You'd be surprised.
- Get inside.
- How do you do?
My name's Shirley, what's yours?
- Suck my dick, you fucking cunt.
- Well, that's not polite.
How about you?
You got a kind word for a stranger?
- Yeah.
Moses Deyell.
- Moses?
Well, maybe you can lead us out of Egypt
to the promised land.
- I wouldn't count on it.
- How'd you end up here?
- ♪ Oh, mercy, mercy me ♪
♪ Oh, things ain't what they ♪
♪ Used to be ♪
- Ahhh!
- Prisoner number 00D718.
[gunshot]
Moses Deyell.
Convicted February 3, 2000,
on two counts of murder in the first degree.
Sentence: death.
- She was cheatin' on ya?
- Yeah...
With her husband.
- They were married?
- The bitch told me they was through.
I don't fuck with another man's wife.
I got principles.
- Oh, I love a man with principles.
[tense percussive tones]
- You know, when I was first elected governor,
crime was out of control,
but, we went to work,
fighting for three strikes and you're out...
- That bastard's running for another term
after all the crap he's pulled?
- I'm voting for him.
- What, why?
- Well, things are better now
than they were four years ago.
- Better for who? Not for us.
- Well, in general,
life has improved across the state
since Devlin took office.
The economy's up, crime is down.
- You'd actually vote for that asshole?
- Yes.
- You can't vote.
You were convicted of a felony.
You are no longer eligible to vote.
- Really?
- Really.
- Oh, well, that's okay.
I never used to vote anyway.
- Let's finish the job.
The courage to lead.
James Devlin, governor.
- Welcome.
- Thanks for seeing me.
- I get a call that
the governor's campaign manager wants to chat,
I'm intrigued.
Please, have a seat.
- You'll find that I'm not the type to dance around.
Frank Feeley won't be running for re-election
as lieutenant governor.
We haven't announced this yet to the press,
but, he has cancer, throat cancer.
- Pity.
- I know.
He was a great draw for the upstate vote.
Governor Devlin has asked me to make a short list of people
to replace frank on the ticket.
I'd like to add your name to the list.
- Me? Run with Devlin?
- I know that you and the governor
have had your differences in the past,
but, I also know you're as conservative
as he is on most issues.
- This wouldn't have anything to do with
Alvah Case announcing he's running against Devlin?
- Well, I'll be honest, sure.
This administration's reputation
with the African-American community is a bit tarnished.
But, deeper than that,
I think you'd make a great lieutenant governor.
- You're offering me this?
- No, you're on the list.
The convention is two months away.
Between now and then,
you'd need to increase your public profile.
- How?
- Well, that's what I'm here for,
to walk you through the steps.
I'm glad you're interested, Leo.
- I haven't said that I am.
- Oh, yes, you have.
- Hey, Andrea.
- McManus,
what brings you downtown from Emerald City?
- Well, have you seen Diane?
- No.
- Wasn't she due back from vacation today?
- Yeah, but she didn't show up for her shift,
so, they asked me to stay,
which is a royal pain in my ass
because I think I got the flu.
- Oh, no, look, don't breathe on me.
I can't afford to get sick.
- And I can?
Please, I got three kids.
My husband's been puking for the past two days.
- Oh, shit, well, listen,
if you hear from Diane,
will you please tell her to call me?
- Sure.
- And feel better.
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 again together.
[knocking]
- You busy?
- Oh, no, no, no, come on in.
What's the problem?
- No problem.
Hey, I just got off the phone with Diane.
- Where is she?
- Well, she's still in London.
- I just called her hotel.
They said she checked out.
- Yeah...
- No, her two weeks are up.
She was supposed to come back to work today.
What's she still doing in London?
- Well, you know, she and Dee-Dee
were standing in front of Buckingham Palace
and she got into a conversation with
a guard.
- I thought they didn't talk.
- He was on break.
Anyway,
one thing led to another,
and...
They're going to get married.
- [laughs]
Right.
- I'm serious.
- She's getting married?
- Yeah.
- To a bobby?
- No, no, not a bobby, Tim; he's a guard.
He guards the queen.
- Yeah, well, then I can see
how they've got a lot in fucking common!
Oh, fuck!
Jesus-fucking-Christ!
Did she leave a number?
- She doesn't want to talk to you.
- Well, I got a helluva lot I wanna say to her!
- Which is why she doesn't wanna talk to you.
She really feels very badly.
- Oh, really?
- Now, listen, Tim.
Diane Whittlesey has not had an easy life.
Poverty, spousal abuse, single motherhood,
her mom dying after a very long illness.
And just now, on the phone,
her voice, she sounded so happy.
- Happy?
Sure.
- If you need to talk...
- What I need is a drink.
- Tim. - Don't worry, sister.
This is what guys who've been dumped do
in order to move on.
[sighs]
Cheerio.
[buzzer sounds]
- Adebisi, you still got the gun?
- Lower your voice.
- You still got it?
- Yes.
- And when you gonna use it?
- I'm not.
- Then what the fuck is the point of having a gun
if you don't use the shit?
- If I use the gun,
I end up in the hole, solitary or death row.
No, our goal was to get rid of McManus, remember?
To have a black man running Emerald City.
- Yeah, like you can make that happen?
- I can, depending on who I get to shoot the gun,
and who gets shot.
- I don't understand, man.
- Of course you don't, Kenny.
Of course you don't.
- All right, time to go back to your cages.
Line up!
- Andrew said you was gonna get me, Poet, and Pierce
sent back to Em City, what's up with that?
- I will.
- When?
- Patience, Kenny, patience.
- Fuck patience, man,
That's all you ever say, is patience!
Patience!
I've got too much time in this motherfucker to be patient!
- No, I won't do it.
- Why?
- Look, Wangler accused me of sexually harassing him.
I don't want him anywhere near me.
- Wangler admitted he exaggerated his claim.
- Exaggerated?
- Look, Tim,
Adebisi came to me requesting that Wangler,
Poet and pierce get transferred back to your unit.
Now, I'm trying to put a lid on the racial tension.
And if giving Adebisi this one small thing
helps do that,
I don't see what your problem is.
If you say no, I'll transfer him anyway.
- Fine.
[buzzer sounds]
[indistinct chatter]
- What's up?
Same old shit.
What's up, baby?
- Welcome home.
- Yo, let me see the gun.
Let me see the gun.
Damn.
Let me hold it.
Let me hold that piece.
- Come and get it.
- You three have been chosen to do your time
in an experimental unit we call Emerald City.
In Emerald City,
you're given a lot more leeway than the rest of Oz,
but, the leeway has a price.
We've got rules.
There's no yelling, no fighting, no fucking.
You're expected to keep yourselves
and the common areas pristine.
You obey the rules, we get along fine.
You don't, we drop-kick your ass to 'gen pop.
Now, these guys,
these guys are gonna be your sponsors,
help you acclimate to your new life.
Augustus hill, that's Desmond Mobay.
Chuckie Pancamo, that's Ralph Galino.
And Gilliam Tarrant, that's Jazz Hoyt.
- You've gotta be kidding me, man.
[tense percussive tones]
- Yo, peep them shoes right there.
- Where you from, man, Jamaica?
- Yes.
- How long you been in the states?
- Six months.
- What got you sucked into Oz?
- Are you writing my life story?
- I don't know you.
- It's like the man said, my name is Ralph Galino.
- I don't know you or where the fuck you came from.
- Well, I'm a contractor.
I built a housing complex that collapsed,
it killed two people.
But, it wasn't my fault.
- So, you're not connected.
- Connected? You mean...
- Yeah, anybody got their arm around you?
- Oh, god, no.
Until this little brouhaha,
I never even gotten a parking ticket.
- Oh, yeah?
- No offense, Mr. Pancamo,
but not every Italian-American is mobbed up.
- Is that so?
- Yeah, most of us live normal, law-abiding lives.
The Guido gangster is an ugly and unfair stereotype.
- So, who is he?
- Just another fucking asshole.
- Yo!
- You got money?
Gimme it.
Fuckin' pussy.
♪ ♪
- Everybody in Oz has a job,
which can range from maintenance to food service,
to machinery.
You have secretarial skills,
so the warden has requested that you work in his office.
- Okay.
- You also have a history of drug abuse.
- History.
I'm done with drugs.
- Uh-huh, just in case,
I'm gonna have you take part in our rehab sessions,
at least for a few weeks.
You keep your nose clean,
both figuratively and literally,
and we'll get along.
Go see the warden.
Next!
[knocking]
- Yeah.
- Warden, this is Desmond Mobay.
- Okay, you can leave him, Armstrong.
- Yes, sir.
- Detective Basil.
- Hello, warden.
- Have a seat.
- Nice little prison you run here.
- Little?
Oz is the largest correctional facility in the state.
- And, yet, the place feels so intimate, so friendly.
- Now, I have to tell you
the drug problem here is substantial, but,
I'm not sure how effective
an undercover operation will be.
Several years ago,
we had another narcotics detective come in.
- Paul Markstrom. - Yeah.
- I knew Paul; he was a good man.
- Then you also know he was executed,
hung by the neck.
- Those are the risks.
- Well, I intend to keep a close eye on you.
That's why I wanted you working here in the office.
I want to be updated constantly.
- No problem.
- All right, let me show you your desk.
The place might be a mess.
My last secretary left in kind of a hurry.
- Very nice.
I can use this to e-mail my lieutenant,
my partner.
By the way, I type 85 words a minute.
- Shit, I might hire you as my secretary for real.
- If I don't make this bust, I'll need the job.
My lieutenant, he wants results.
- What's your first step?
- [Jamaican accent] Making good friends with the bad guys.
[buzzer sounds]
Yo, man, how's it going?
Some cultural reading, eh?
- What, all of a sudden,
you wanna be my yaga-yaga?
- I stray wronged.
People say you're cool.
- Do they?
- They also say
you know where a man can get some relief.
- Some relief or some reefer?
- Same thing.
Though I could use something stronger.
- Well, whoever you jawing with,
they misinformed, I don't do drugs.
- No? - No, not no more, no.
- Oh.
So, who do I talk to?
- Just stand still, they'll come to you.
[tense percussive tones]
♪ ♪
[bell ringing]
♪ ♪
- Hi, honey, it's me.
How am I doing?
How the fuck do you think I'm doing?
Listen, call Dan Bosey,
tell him to get his ass in gear.
I want that appeal signed and sealed.
I've gotta get out of here.
I love you, too, babe.
All right, bye.
What do you want?
- Permit me to introduce myself.
Nikolia Petrovic Stanislofsky.
- Okay, what do you want?
- That cell phone.
How did you get it into Oz?
- My brother brought it to me, why?
- They're not allowed.
- Really, no one mentioned that.
- The prison,
they want us to use the pay phones,
first, because they monitor calls randomly,
and second,
because the state gets a cut from the phone company
of all the long-distance calls we make.
- Shit, I guess I better turn it in.
I don't need any more trouble than I already got.
- You know, if you like,
I will take care of it for you.
I can say I found a cell phone
and no one will be the wiser.
It's up to you.
- Thank you.
What's your name?
- Nikolia.
- Ralph.
I owe you one.
- No, no problem.
Better take the charger, too.
♪ ♪
[speaking Russian]
♪ ♪
- Prisoner number 00T416, Guillaum Tarrant.
Convicted January 2, 2000.
Destruction of private property,
concealment of a deadly weapon.
Sentence, 10 years, up for parole in three.
- Yo, what's up, yo?
Welcome to Em City.
Nice shoes.
Your mother give you those
before they shipped you off to summer camp and shit?
- Leave me alone.
- What kind of accent is that?
Where you from? - Leave me alone.
- Yo, man, I'm just trying to start a conversation, dog.
I'm just being friendly and shit.
- Where you going?
Huh, where you going?
- Yo, just sit your ugly white ass back down.
- Check this.
Your shoes, offer 'em to me.
- What?
- Offer 'em to me.
- Do it.
- Would you take my shoes?
- Louder.
- Would you take my shoes?
- Louder, motherfucker, louder, louder...
- Take my shoes, please!
- Oh, damn, cool, a gift for me.
Word, hey.
Let me take these shoes.
Let me see these, oh, these the real deal.
My size and everything, hook me up.
Yo, real... Thank you.
All right, damn, good looking, cuz.
My love, appreciate it,
see ya, all right?
♪ ♪
- And then they took them.
- Here you go, blow your nose.
Guillaum, here's the problem.
If I go to Wangler and tell him what you just told me,
he's gonna deny it.
His word against yours.
Well, he's got Poet and Pierce to back him up.
What you need is evidence or a witness.
- He's wearing the shoes, that's evidence.
- But, then you have to find somebody
that says that they saw you wearing the shoes earlier.
Can you do that?
- No.
- See, any witness I find is gonna say that
they heard you offer the shoes to Wangler.
- So, what do I do now?
- Call your family.
Have them send you another pair of shoes.
- Wangler will just steal those, too.
- Probably.
Look, ummm...
I don't like those three being around here
any more than you do.
So, if you ever see or hear anything I can use
to hang their balls out to dry,
let me know.
And in the meantime, go to the infirmary,
tell them I sent you,
get a pair of slippers that will tide you over until...
- Yo, Frenchy!
How about a game of one-on-one?
Me and you.
- No, thanks.
- I'm not asking.
♪ ♪
[laughter]
[indistinct chatter]
- That's why we say it like that, baby.
[laughter]
- It must be the shoes, baby.
Both: It must be the shoes.
- Good game. [laughter]
- Hey, McManus.
- I got no time for you today, O'Reilly.
- Hey, you ought to transfer Frenchy out of Em City, man.
- Hey, since when do you tell me
who lives here and who doesn't?
- You don't do something, there's gonna be trouble.
- Yeah, thank you for the advice.
Hey...
Oh, man.
I heard what those niggers did to you.
- Go away.
- Hey, this is for you.
- Marijuana?
- Yeah, plus a little something extra
we call a "duster."
Oh, no, why don't you wait a few minutes?
If the hacks see you,
they're gonna eat your ass for lunch,
so, all right?
Look, life in Oz, it sucks.
The only way for you to survive
is to teach Wangler and his crew
that they can't bully you around like this.
- How, how do I do that?
- Well, I don't know.
But, if an opportunity presents itself, grab it,
because you're not gonna get a second chance.
♪ ♪
- The scariest part is, all those criminals
that were locked into all those prisons in the '80s,
you know, the good, old Reagan years,
all those criminals, their sentences are up.
Those bad men who are more dangerous now
than when they went in,
they're getting out.
And coming to darken street corners near you.
- Lights out!
♪ ♪
- Beecher.
- Who are you?
- Tarrant, Guillaum Tarrant.
- You the guy who destroyed that statue?
- Oui.
- Fucking-sicko-bastard.
- Damn, your mom work quick.
She send your shit air mail?
- Get the fuck away from me.
- Tough talk.
- You know you shouldn't swear,
your mama'd be PO'd.
- I'm warning you to back off.
- What the fuck, son? You trying to get tough now?
Huh?
What the fuck you gonna do, huh?
Huh, huh?
[indistinct chatter]
[gunshot]
- Stay down, stay down...
[alarm blaring]
[gunshot]
- Ow, godammit!
- Chris!
- Ahhh!
♪ ♪
[alarm blaring]
♪ ♪
- Come on, put the gun down.
There's no way out, put the gun down.
There's no way out.
[bright tone]