[TV static drones]
[bright tone]
[tense jazzy music]
♪ ♪
- The road to Hell is paved with good intentions.
Now, there's a mind fuck if I ever heard one.
The good side of my will is the road to damnation.
Fuck, why even try being good?
And if good intentions take you to the Lake of Fire,
where do bad intentions lead?
Oz.
- Nino, please, you don't understand.
I didn't mean it, I did the best I could.
- Hey, Doc, Dr. Nathan.
Can't you shut him up?
He blabbed all night, I couldn't sleep.
- You're well enough to be discharged.
Transfer Shupe back to Em City
and give Pancamo five milligrams of Haldol twice a day.
- Hey, Gloria. - Hey.
Chucky Pancamo's delirious.
- So what else is new?
- That's not funny, Tim.
- Hey, the paperwork said that Augustus Hill
was being transferred back here today.
I'd don't see him.
- Yeah, he's still in pretty bad shape.
I put him in a private room.
- Okay, thanks.
[machinery beeping]
How you feeling? - Like shit.
- Yeah, you came pretty close to killing yourself.
You wanna tell me why?
- I wasn't trying to kill myself.
- You had massive amounts of heroin in your system,
which made you get a little sloppy with your catheter
which resulted in renal failure.
You may not have been trying to consciously kill yourself,
but the result was pretty much the same.
- My mom's died,
wife deserted me.
All of a sudden the walls in Oz got too high and too thick.
- Augustus,
who gave you the drugs?
- It don't matter.
- It does to me.
- Look, what I did, I did.
Ain't nobody else gonna suffer.
- Salvatore DeSanto is brain dead from a drug overdose.
I suspect Burr Redding is responsible.
I suspect he thinks DeSanto sold you the drugs.
- He didn't.
- That's all the more reason for you to tell me who did.
- I want to talk to Burr.
- No.
- McManus, please.
- No.
- You got a message for Burr Redding,
I'm your AT&T.
Salvatore DeSanto didn't sell Augustus the drugs.
- What?
Then who did?
- Well, he wouldn't tell me.
- He'll tell me.
- Why, so you can feed that guy LSD?
See, I don't have any proof,
but I got a feeling you're the one that fucked DeSanto up,
and I'm not gonna give you an opportunity
to fuck someone else up.
Officer!
Escort this gentleman out.
[tense percussive tones]
- Where's Busmalis?
- Why?
What's up?
What's up, man?
- You said DeSanto sold those drugs to Augustus.
- Yes. - You lied.
- No.
- Why'd you lie, Busmalis?
- Well, I... - Who you protecting?
Guerra?
- Guerra.
Yeah, Guerra made me lie.
- Why? - I don't know.
Maybe he sold the drugs to Augustus.
- All right, get out of here.
- We need to have a sit-down with Morales.
Morales...
Did Guerra give Augustus those drugs?
- No.
- You lying.
- Know what, Redding?
You and me, since we made peace,
we've had a good thing going.
Don't blow it by being an asshole.
- Motherfucker.
Who the fuck you think you're calling an asshole?
- What the fuck do you think you're doing?
[both struggling]
[tense percussive tones]
- John and Jane Doe decided to go on a diet,
eat better, get healthy, live longer.
What could be wrong with that?
Well, studies now show that the stress John suffers from
trying to lower his cholesterol
can do as much harm as cholesterol itself,
that the stress can actually raise his cholesterol.
And take those low-fat, no-fat products.
Shit's loaded with sugar to make it taste better.
So while Jane's trimming down, she's jacking up her blood sugar
and risking diabetes.
Bottled water.
What the fuck could be wrong with that?
The bottles, my friend.
1.5 million tons of plastic are used for them each year,
which means more toxic gases in the air we breathe.
So by going all natural,
we're actually killing ourselves,
killing the whole fuckin' planet.
[gate buzzes]
- Look at O'Reily, he's been there all day.
- He's waiting for the verdict on Cyril's murder trial.
The jury's still deliberating.
- Think he'll get convicted?
- I hope not.
I like Cyril.
I'd hate to see him sent off to death row.
- Ryan, what news?
- Nothing; the lawyer says it could be a couple of days
before the jury comes back with a verdict.
I just-- you know,
I just wish I was with Cyril in solitary,
because I know he's scared,
and I don't think he's got a clue as to what's going on.
- Good.
- What's good?
- Well, the less aware he is of things,
the better chance we have of overturning a guilty verdict.
- I don't follow-- what?
- I'm not going to let Cyril die,
not without one hell of a fight.
- What do you care about my brother for, huh?
What fuckin' business is it of yours?
- Just because I'm a prisoner
doesn't mean I've stopped being a priest.
Cyril is one of God's kids. Therefore it's--
- Hey, Meehan, yo, yo, you know what?
Stay the fuck away from me, all right?
The last thing I need right now is hope,
so just fuckin' beat it.
Get the fuck out of here.
What are you, deaf?
[gate buzzes]
- O'Reily, come with me.
- Where?
- Jury's in.
- Oh, take that.
- Ryan.
- Oh, Christ.
- I'm sorry.
We're going to appeal.
- A lot of fuckin' good that'll do.
Hey, you okay?
- Sure.
- Kiss Jericho. - Yeah, Cyril, I--
- Kiss him. He misses you.
- When's sentencing?
- It's Thursday.
I'll plead for clemency because of his mental state.
- Don't.
- Why not? The judge--
- I'm responsible for his decisions, right?
I say no appeals,
no clemency.
Now leave us alone.
- Is there a problem, Ryan?
- No...
Just the opposite.
You're getting out of here, kid.
You're gonna be free.
- Why would you want your brother to die?
- Look at our lives.
- We were beaten as kids, ignored,
in and out of juvie all the time.
Then Cyril gets his brains smashed in,
and we're stuck in this shithole for the next 90 years.
- Nothingness
is better than a lifetime in Oz.
- Once he's gone, he's gone forever,
and you will have to live every day with the part
you played in that.
- Believe me, I accept everything I've done
to screw up Cyril's life.
I can carry this.
- No.
No, you won't be able to.
- And what makes you say that?
- Because I know you, Ryan.
- What?
You think you know me?
Because we sit around and we jaw,
you got me all figured out?
Is that it, huh?
Well, let me tell you something, Ma,
even if you'd been in that house my whole life,
you wouldn't have
a fuckin' clue who I am!
- Ryan.
- Let me out of here.
- Ryan?
- The only way to win this case on appeal
is in the court of public opinion.
- In 1989, the Supreme Court ruled that executing
the mentally retarded was not a violation
of the Eighth Amendment,
because there's no national consensus
against such punishment.
- So we have to demonstrate in court now
that there is a consensus
that even Americans who believe in the death penalty
find these particular executions
to be cruel and unusual punishment.
- We need to get the media aroused.
- Sister, can you get out a press release
to the effect that it's impossible to determine
the extent of Cyril's culpability?
I mean, he knew he did something wrong, but he--
he has no sense of the gravity.
- Okay, but a press release isn't enough.
We should hold a press conference.
I want to make it clear that I was never able
to discuss the specifics of the case with Cyril,
that he did not actively participate in his own defense.
- Father Meehan...
Do you really think we can pull this off?
- The law is like God Almighty himself,
it moves in strange ways,
so we have to keep nudging it toward a more merciful outcome.
[gate buzzes]
- Hey, everybody, check it out, Shupe's back.
Let's give him a hand.
[applause]
- You're a regular Chris Rock there, O'Reily.
- What can I say? It's a talent.
- Speaking of talents, you made a deal with us.
We'd hurt Shupe if you'd airhole Jia Kenmin.
- Well, I never said I'd do the deed myself.
- I'm gonna find someone to do it who the COs can't blame.
- Who?
- The COs themselves.
- I hear justice has been served.
Your brother's gonna die for whacking Li Chen.
My only wish...
is that you'd been in court the day I testified.
Li Chen,
he was a good man who wouldn't hurt a flea.
I even choked back a fuckin' tear.
I was brilliant.
- Hey, Wonton.
[both grunting]
- Get off him.
Get off him now.
- Fuckin' cocksucker. - Back off.
[yelling, indistinct chatter]
- Son of a bitch!
[gate buzzes]
[all yelling at once]
- You're gonna be fine.
How you feeling?
- Sore.
How's Jia?
- I didn't even get to see him.
The COs threw him directly into solitary.
- It's not nice to hit the hacks.
- Well, given his previous concussion,
I'm a little worried.
- Don't be.
It's better for all of us if Jia goes back
into another coma.
- I'll get someone to take you back.
- I'll take him.
Appreciate what you did today, O'Reily.
- If you guys hadn't gotten there when you did,
that Chink would've snapped my fuckin' neck.
I was just returning the favor.
Yeah, Jia, man, he's got some set of balls.
He's always talking about what pussies you hacks are.
- Yeah?
Well, he's got a lesson coming.
He'll learn.
Hey, Jia.
How's the head?
- Fuck you.
- See, I would call that an act of aggression.
- Ow, Jesus!
[all struggling, grunting]
[gate buzzes]
- You happy with what you did?
- What'd I do?
- Got your revenge on Jia Kenmin.
- That motherfucker came at me.
- I saw otherwise.
- Hey, keep your fuckin' mouth shut.
- You wear that cross of gold.
Why?
Do you believe in the Risen Christ,
or is it just a bobble?
What happened to you when you were a child?
What made you walk away from the church?
- I didn't walk away.
I ran.
- Why?
- When I was a kid
and all this shit was going down in our house,
my dad was wailing on us non-stop,
so I went to our pastor.
I had a welt on my back the size of this fist,
so I asked the good Monsignor if he could please
talk to my dad and ask him to stop beating on us.
He said if my dad hit us, it was because we were bad
and we deserved to be punished.
Then he told me to go home
and "honor thy father".
- There are bad priests,
but there are lots of good ones too.
Your priest wasn't there for you, but I am.
I'm here for you,
and I'm here for your brother.
- No, it's too late, Father.
It's too fuckin' late.
[tense percussive tones]
- John and Jane Doe, both looking slim and sexy,
meet, fall in love, decide to get married.
John buys a nice fat diamond for Jane's finger.
Sweet,
except for the fact that people in Africa
are living in shit because of those precious little stones.
Men are dying every day in dangerous mines.
Men are dying every day in civil wars
fought to control the diamond trades.
Anyway...
John and Jane get married,
start pumping out the kids.
Shit, even God told Adam and Eve
to be fruitful and multiply,
but now we've multiplied to the point of plague,
6 billion and counting.
Suddenly, my cell don't seem so cramped.
[gate buzzes]
- I don't know how I'm gonna give Julie up.
Huh?
I had a kid once,
died.
It fuckin' nearly crippled me.
I ain't felt love since then...
until now.
- You know that CO that you blinded?
- Eugene Rivera?
- Yeah, is he gonna get your dog?
- Well...
He said he don't want any part of anything
that had to do with me.
- Have you ever seen these babies fight for sport?
[growls]
- I've seen roosters.
I haven't seen dogs, though.
- It's fuckin' brutal, man.
Three rounds of absolute mayhem.
Dogs are just rippin' each other apart.
- Jesus Christ, fuckin' stop!
- [chuckles] I'm sorry.
[gate buzzes]
- Hey, Penders, Alvarez,
what's this?
- Beats me.
- It's dog shit, dickhead.
- How can you be sure that a dog did that?
- Who else shits on the floor?
- Guerra.
- That's funny.
Clean it up.
- No.
- No? - No.
- Clean the fuckin' shit up.
- Lopresti, why you always on my fuckin' ass?
- Because I'm tired of you and your fuckin' pooch.
- At least Chester doesn't have bad breath.
- [chuckles] - [grunts]
[tense percussive tones]
men: Ohh!
- Shit.
[all yelling at once]
- Chester, now, Chester!
[dog snarls, barks]
[all shouting at once]
- Yes. Yes, Chester.
- Damn!
- It's a shame what Penders did,
teaching Chester to attack.
He put a shadow over the whole program.
- Yeah, you know, he really loved the dog.
He just fuckin' hates people.
- Let her take you up the stairs.
- What else?
- Have her sit.
- Julie, sit.
Good girl, and?
- Now take off your blindfold.
- I pass?
- Yes, A+,
gold star, great job.
- Thanks, she did all the work, you know?
- And she'll continue to do so, thanks to you.
- You know what I wish?
I wish I could just see
whoever's gonna get her, you know?
- Well, Miguel...
You're gonna get your wish,
because that person is gonna be here in just a second.
- Who's that?
- McManus has been working the phones all morning, and--
- Oh, shit.
I thought he didn't want her.
- Tina didn't.
Well, neither did I at first.
Look, I love my wife
and everything she's done for me,
but she deserves her life back.
I mean, I know this dog would be great for me,
but I think...
Over time it would be great for her too.
- That's good.
Cool.
This is Julie,
and I trained her special for you, man.
- Special?
- What do you normally speak at home?
- Spanish.
- Now make believe you're at home right now
and ask for her.
- Julie?
Ven aca.
[tense percussive tones]
- You taught the dog Spanish?
- Yeah, yeah.
Every command, she's fuckin' bilingual.
Tell her to sit down.
- Julie...
Sientate.
[tense percussive tones]
- She's all yours.
Te voy a echar de manos.
- Come on, I'll drive you home.
- Let's go.
[tense percussive tones]
- Well, congratulations, Tim, you're two for two.
Both the music program and the man's best friend
has had tangible and positive results.
- Hear, hear!
- Thank you.
You know, I just want to tell you both
that I appreciate your support,
as guarded and as half-ass as it's been.
- Ouch.
I was wondering what happened to that backhand of yours.
Oh, I gotta go.
I'm due over at Lardner.
Leo, Timmy.
- Well...
There certainly has been a thaw in your icy relationship
with the governor's office.
- Huh?
- If I didn't know better,
I'd say you had a liaison with the state liaison,
if not last night, then very recently.
- Yeah, I gotta go too.
- Okay, Timmy.
- 51.
- Yeah, Jesus Christ, I fucking won!
- That winning ticket was mine, damn it!
Have I got any legal recourse?
- No, no.
I mean, even if we could find him,
it's Dave Brass' word against yours.
I mean, he's a CO injured in the line of duty,
you, a prisoner, known to talk to God.
- That bastard!
He should be arrested for killing my grandson.
- Alex Jr.'s only chance to beat the leukemia is to find a donor,
someone willing to give his bone marrow.
- I know.
But I thought because of his unique ethnic mix,
a match was difficult.
- The difficulty is that no one is looking.
There must be someone out there.
- Or here.
I'll bet if you search the computer files
of every prisoner in Oz, past or present,
you'd get a match.
- Well, why don't I?
- What?
- Search the files.
- You'd do that for me?
- For you,
for your grandson,
for Dave Brass,
for my own peace of mind.
[gate buzzes]
- Martinez.
I hear they're shipping your ass back to solitary.
- Yeah.
- Listen, I could help you out.
A word from me and you're sitting in Unit B,
maybe even Emerald City.
- Yeah?
And why would you help me?
- You douced Dave Brass for no apparent reason.
Only I'm thinking you had a reason,
and I'm thinking if you tell me,
that's maybe when I can step up for you.
- I got nothing to say.
- You attacked a CO, Carlos.
Where you're going, you've got no friends.
- [grunting] - If you don't get smart,
you're gonna fuckin' hurt a lot more than you do now.
[tense percussive tones]
Martinez is cracking.
We're so close to him jabbering all the names
of everybody involved.
And my guess is Enrique Morales tops the list.
- Yeah, good, none of that's gonna do much good
for Rebadow, though.
I mean, even if we find Brass and tell him who cut him,
he's not going to give that lottery money back.
Yes.
Yes, yes.
Got it.
- Got what?
- Salvation.
Farai Gyrobile is a Rastafarian from Unit C.
Now, it turns out that him and Bob Marley
have more in common than just reggae.
Both of them have white fathers.
- And was his mother half West Indian,
half Guatemalan?
- Yeah, so he appears to be
the perfect match for your grandson.
Now all you've gotta do is convince him
to be the bone marrow donor.
- May I talk to this man alone,
prisoner to prisoner?
- Of course.
Good luck.
- Farai, Bob.
Bob Rebadow.
- The guy who got aced
out of the 2 million Mightyball dollars.
- Yes, you see...
I needed to win that money on account of my grandson.
He's dying of leukemia.
- Pity.
- Which is why I need your help.
Alex has a...
Very specific racial makeup which you match exactly.
- How the fuck you know what makes me up?
- McManus told me.
And I was hoping you might be willing
to donate your bone marrow to my grandson.
- McManus has no right sharing that shit with you!
Everyone here thinks my blood be black, 100%.
I fuckin' donate,
and they all know different.
And if you tell a soul,
you're as dead as your grandboy.
- No, wait.
- I'm sorry, Alex.
I tried.
[tense percussive tones]
God spoke to me last night.
- He told me that the missing element
in Alex Jr.'s recovery is faith.
- Uh-huh.
- Not money, not science.
I want to find a faith healer,
someone who will go to my grandson in the hospital,
lay hands on him,
flush out the leukemia once and for all.
- I see.
- You're wary.
- What little I do know of faith healers
gives me pause.
A lot of people expecting a miracle...
get deception instead.
- Okay.
So you don't choose the bruised fruit.
You look carefully.
- For whatever it's worth,
the kind of people you're talking about
are not typically sanctioned by any church.
- Sister Pete,
I didn't say religious healer,
denominational healer.
I said faith healer, the faith that
alone transcends all cultural divisions and systems.
Aren't you sick of the club mentality
surrounded by members of other clubs,
who belongs to what
and which one has the upper hand on God?
I mean no offense, but I don't want to belong.
I just want to believe.
- So what happens next?
- I wait for instructions.
I wait for the word.
I am an arrow in God's bow.
[tense percussive tones]
[gate buzzes]
- How long has he got?
- What?
- Your grandson,
how long has he got?
- Who are you?
- A.R. Whitworth.
How long has he got?
- I don't know, only God does.
- Good answer.
Now we're talking.
- About what?
- Faith healing, right?
- How do you know that?
- Would you believe that last night
I dreamt that your grandson was restored to perfect health?
- Maybe.
- Go on. - All right.
I was born a gimp,
spinal shit, impossible to fix.
When I was in high school,
found out that my neighbor's a faith healer,
born with X-ray vision.
She denied it for years, said it embarrassed her.
Then she goes and heals a friend
and the word spreads.
All this time, right next door to me.
I was pissed off at first, to tell you the truth.
But she's the real deal.
No showbiz shit.
- But you still limp a little.
- Just started bothering me again.
But still, it's better than what it used to be.
God may hold the key to your grandson's health,
to heal him,
but he's holding a key inside the boy.
Regina can turn it.
- Absolutely not.
- Sarah, listen to me.
- I have listened to you.
There will be no strange woman doing some sort of séance
or voodoo over Alex Jr.'s bed.
I will not have it.
- Put aside your prejudices for a moment,
take Mother and go meet her.
- No.
There is no way I'm going to dangle that kind of carrot
in front of a terminally ill 10-year-old.
The boy is too fragile.
Say it doesn't work, Robert.
What then?
We tell him that God didn't love him enough?
- I don't want little Alex to die.
- We're waiting and praying
for a bone marrow transplant.
- Waiting and praying, waiting and praying.
What about doing, God damn it?
- Cool down, Rebadow.
- Step back, this is a family matter.
I want to stand on a mountaintop and curse our idiotic,
modern small-mindedness, our lame,
civilized methods of surviving sickness.
Hospitals are the summit of human potential?
Bull-fucking-shit!
- Are you finished?
- No.
I'll find someone else to visit Regina for me.
- Who?
The only reason you called me instead of Alex or Sophie
or Mother is because you knew that they would need convincing.
No, there is no one in our family
who is going to let that strange woman into Alex Jr.'s room.
- You can't do this.
- Yes, I can.
You know what I see?
I see a man trying to redeem himself
in the eyes of his family,
making a last-ditch effort after decades of absence.
See?
Sometimes I have X-ray vision too.
- Why?
Why open this door just to close it in my face?
Be healed...
In the name of God.
- Our Lady of Fatima Church and its rectory next door
were burned to the ground this evening,
killing two priests.
Also injured was Father Raymond Mukada,
who suffered from smoke inhalation
and is in serious condition at Benchley Memorial Hospital.
- I don't want to hear anymore, Seroy.
You're going to solitary.
- Warden, wait.
What if I give you some intel?
Will you give me a reprieve?
- What kind of intel?
- About Father Mukada.
What if I tell you the fire at Mukada's church
was requested by a prisoner
here at Oz?
- Who? - Uh-uh.
Not till we have a deal.
- Clarence Seroy is a lying sack of shit.
- Funny, that's what you said when Jaz Hoyt implicated you
in Jim Burns' murder.
- I'm innocent.
- No, you're a guilty little prick
who's finally gonna take responsibility
for the shit storms you created.
- You've got no hard-core evidence
that either I set up the arson
or was involved in Hoyt killing Burns.
It's still their word against mine.
- Think you got the system beat, huh?
Well, I've been around a lot longer than you, Kirk.
Ray Mukada is a friend of mine.
He's lying in a hospital
and that's pissing me off.
Pissing me off royal.
It's your testimony vs. Kirk's.
He claims to have had nothing to do with Burns' murder.
He says you're lying.
- I'm on death row for chrissake.
Why would I lie?
- What we need is another witness.
One of your biker buddies has got to come forward.
- They do that, they end up here.
- Not necessarily.
If they didn't participate in the crime,
I give him a free pass.
All your buddy's got to say
is he heard Kirk propose the murder to you.
- Done.
[tense percussive tones]
- Timothy Kirk,
you are hereby charged with the murder of James Burns.
- What?
- My friend Max here just corroborated
Jaz Hoyt's version of the truth.
Put Kirk in solitary until the trial starts.
- No. - Murder one, death row.
- No, I didn't--
he who comes in with vanity shall go out in darkness.
I'm sorry.
- And his name shall be covered in darkness.
He shall never see the sun.
- No!
- And finally, I'm happy to announce that Ray Mukada
will be released from Benchley Memorial
tomorrow afternoon.
[applause]
- When's he coming back to work?
- Well, the doctors aren't sure yet, but we hope soon.
Okay, that's all.
Peter Marie...
You haven't said a word to me since our little discussion
about Peter Schibetta.
- "Little discussion"?
You know, Leo, when you decided not to resign,
I was thrilled.
But since then,
you've become intransigent.
Keller can't see Beecher,
Schibetta, Alvarez.
It seems like when you get an attitude about some guy,
boy, you just don't want to hear anything else.
And I don't work that way.
- Speaking to Dr. Nathan really helped me.
Hearing her thoughts about being raped helped me
to feel not so alone.
- Oh, that's great.
That's good.
- So what's the next step?
- That's up to you.
I would like to schedule a session with your wife.
- I'm--I'm not ready to face her yet.
- All right.
And perhaps you should think about interacting
with the men who attacked you.
How do you feel about that?
- No.
No way.
I'm no rat.
I'm not gonna give up any names.
- Why would you want to protect them?
- I didn't say I'm protecting them.
- You're going to get revenge?
- I didn't say that, either.
- Peter-- - Just let it go.
- Okay, for now.
I want to ask you one more thing.
What's your relationship with Warden Glynn?
So there is bad blood between you.
- Maybe we need to let that go too, Sister.
Yeah, let that go too.
[tense percussive tones]
- Hey, Petey...
Nice ass.
[tense percussive tones]
- John and Jane raise their kiddies
to be decent citizens,
teach them the laws of political correctness,
teach them to respect other races,
genders, body shapes, beliefs.
But think about it.
Doesn't making our children too aware of the differences
plant the same seed of separateness?
Are we blinding little Jane and John Jr.
so that they only see what makes us different
and not what makes us alike?
- Hey...
Feeling better?
Those painkillers are fuckin' with your brain.
You've been sitting there for two days.
You don't talk, you don't eat with us.
Not to mention you got me worried about this gum shit now.
Can't tell if they're recessive or not.
- Take a hike, girls.
- Yes, sir.
- Vern.
- Yeah.
- I don't know who the donor was,
where that fuckin' dentist got the gum tissue from,
whose cadaver.
Could be anyone's.
- Get the fuck out of here.
- The shit's anonymous,
stored in some fuckin' freezer somewhere.
How am I supposed to know to ask?
Don't look at me like that.
- When exactly did this come up?
- When I was whacked on gas and under the knife.
That scum-sucking towelhead,
he's fuckin' with me in the middle of surgery.
- Christ Almighty.
Is it normal color at least, the gum tissue?
- I don't know.
I haven't looked.
- You haven't looked?
You haven't paid a little follow-up visit
to Dr. Faraj to find out?
- He won't be in again until Thursday.
Listen, nobody hears about this,
especially not in the Brotherhood.
[tense percussive tones]
- So, Vern, am I right in deducing
that the reason I drove 80 miles
to hear this pathetic story
is because you don't know what effect James Robson's
little dental dilemma is going to have
on his standing in the Brotherhood?
- Yes, sir.
- And because you care about this Robson,
he's your friend.
- Yes, sir.
- Well, let's see if you can answer
some of your own questions here,
and we'll see if my trip was worth the time.
Define purity for me, Vern.
You see, I'm not concerned about James Robson.
I never did care much for the boy.
His type joins us
more out of an identity crisis
than true faith.
- Sir, with all due respect,
Robson has proven himself.
- With all due respect, Vern, I don't give a shit.
What does concern me is you, that your convictions
will falter in this embarrassing situation,
that you will overlook Robson's infection
because the two of you are...
close.
- We don't know anything for sure yet.
Robson's gonna find out the truth as soon as he can.
- Just remember,
a little leaven leavens the whole loaf.
That goes for you as well.
And next time,
spare me the road trip.
Use the fuckin' telephone.
- Yo, by the way,
I got James Robson over in Unit B.
Last night he was asking me if I can get him a copy
of your schedule this week.
There...
some sort of nastiness going on between you two?
- What did he say?
- Nothing.
He was just all on edge,
in a darker mood than most days.
You look kind of freaked out yourself.
- Shit.
Shit, shit, shit.
[tense percussive tones]
- Quitting?
As of when?
- Today. - Today?
Jesus, Tariq
a little advanced notice would have been nice.
- Leo, I didn't see it coming, really.
- You can't give me the rest of the week to fill your slot?
- Look, I'll finish out my shift,
and then that's all.
Here, these are some contacts
that could probably help you out.
- First Cochern, now you.
Why can't I hold onto a dentist around here?
- I'm sorry, Leo.
- Bullshit!
- Yeah, I guess so.
Do me a favor.
Spread that around.
And don't tell anyone where you heard it,
okay?
- [laughing]
- Faraj should be in by now.
I'm gonna corner him after lunch.
I guess you don't wanna talk much until then,
is that the deal?
- Hey, I'm not handling this any different
than the next guy would,
so just give me a fuckin' break, all right?
- Just soup.
- Sure you don't want no chitlins and gravy
to go with that?
[laughter]
- What?
- Shall we?
[pots and pans banging]
Everyone, listen up.
Robson here went to the dentist
and got himself a nice pair of dirty ghetto gums.
[laughter]
- Thanks, Vern.
- I didn't say a fuckin' word.
Shut up, you goddamn nigger.
Just give him some soup.
- Whoa, you gonna take that, G,
man calling your brother a nigger and all?
Hey, don't get stupid.
Don't want me to Sammy Sosa that jaw with this here spoon.
- Keep it moving, girls.
[tense percussive tones]
- I need to see Dr. Faraj.
My mouth is killing me.
- You poor baby.
- Follow me.
[gate buzzes]
- Dr. Faraj, hi.
Now, who's the fuckin' donor, huh?
- I have a wife.
I have kids, please.
- Don't make me fuckin' slip.
- No, no, he was white.
He was like you, man. He was just your age.
- Prove it.
Call the fuckin' lab or whatever.
- I'll prove it. I'll prove it.
Okay, just please go get--
get me my address book from--
from other there, okay?
[blow lands] - [grunts]
- He wasn't white, I made sure of that.
- Fuck!
- What's done is done.
Officer!
He attacked me.
Must be his gums acting up.
[tense percussive tones]
- [moaning]
- Now, you all know how highly I've esteemed...
James Robson,
but the past, unfortunately,
is nothing more than the past.
Satan has scored a very ugly victory,
and it pains me that Robson is a casualty.
We must, nevertheless, abide by our principles,
not our feelings.
As of today,
James Robson is no longer a part of the Brotherhood.
[tense percussive tones]
- [heavy breathing]
- Hello, Chris.
- Sister.
You're gonna have to talk in this ear.
This other one doesn't work too good anymore.
- Yeah, Dr. Nathan says the hearing loss
may be permanent.
- Eh, that'll give me a real excuse for ignoring people.
- She also says you'll be sent back
to protective custody tomorrow.
- Just in time for my trial.
- How do you like your new lawyer?
- I think I'm gonna lose.
- How do you feel about that?
- Angry.
I don't wanna end my days on death row.
- I'll pray for you.
- Do you think Jesus was a fag?
- What?
- You think Jesus was a fag?
It's a legitimate question.
- Are you trying to provoke me,
mock my religion?
- No, just looking for a role model.
Jesus was divine
and human, simultaneously, right?
Did the divine part control his sexual appetites?
And if so, what chance have I got?
I'm not divine, far from it.
I mean, all my life,
anytime I've gotten the urge,
I've stuck my cock into any cavity
that was open and available.
That's what's led me to this point in time,
this precipice of death.
If I'd have been celibate,
do you think I'd have been happier?
- We fight our natures, Chris.
- Why?
God gives us natures, why?
What, for us to fight them?
- It proves we're better than animals.
- I guess I failed that test.
- You shouldn't think that way.
- What, sister? I can't hear you.
[gate buzzes]
- I see the Aryans have snatched your friend Adam.
- Yeah.
It's my fault.
- How so?
- I...
I don't want to go into all the gory details, but...
I delivered Adam into Schillinger's hands.
- Why?
- Because Schillinger could arrange for me to see Keller.
- Beecher...
- The irony is I didn't see Keller.
He was sent to Benchley Memorial
before I could get to protective custody.
- So to satisfy your desires,
sexual or otherwise,
you...
sacrificed a boy.
- I was convinced that Adam deserved to get raped.
You know, he raped that girl, he attacked me.
But when I saw him in the gym, I...
[tense percussive tones]
I realized that no matter what Adam had done,
no one deserves that.
[sighs]
My guilt is devouring me.
- So it should.
- What can I do to make peace with myself?
- [chuckles]
Well, I could tell you,
but you wouldn't want to hear it.
- Go on.
- This calamity was brought on by your need to see Keller,
so the only way for you to punish yourself
is by you denying yourself Keller.
- You mean don't see him.
- That's right.
- Ever again?
- That's right.
- Christ.
- If you are truly sorry, Beecher,
that's what you must do.
[gate buzzes]
- I want to transfer to another work detail.
- You transferred to the mailroom not even a week ago.
- Yeah, I'm not enjoying it as much as I thought I would.
- Is there trouble with Schillinger?
- No, I just realized that pushing a cart around
isn't the best use of my talents.
- Well, Sister Peter Marie's already replaced you.
- I know.
- The only opening's in the women's dress factory.
- Fine. - So wait a second.
Sewing hems on women's dresses is a better use of your talent?
Don't fuckin' bullshit me.
What's going on?
- Nothing.
- All right, all right.
This is a prison, not an employment agency.
We try to accommodate people,
but we can't always.
Now, you asked to work in the mailroom.
Until you give me a legitimate reason
why you can't,
you stay in the fuckin' mailroom!
Go!
[tense percussive tones]
- I have a special delivery for Dr. Nathan.
[tense percussive tones]
[knocking]
- Can I help you?
- Where's Sister Pete?
- In a staff meeting.
- You're that sheriff from Unit J, right?
- Alvin Yood, yeah.
- Yeah, I'm Tobias Beecher.
- Hey.
- I used to have this job.
- And you gave it up?
Nothing personal,
but you're a dolt.
- Look, when Sister Pete gets back from her appointment,
can you give her this note and tell her to make a meeting
with Adam Guenzel?
He's in Unit B, and I think he needs somebody to talk to.
- About what?
- She'll know when she sees him.
- Okay, I'll give her your message.
- Thanks, so long.
- Hey, Beecher, don't take any wooden nickels.
[gate buzzes]
- How you doing, Adam?
- What do you care?
- Look, I'm sorry I let them rape you, okay?
But it's this place, you know.
It got my head all fucked up.
- [sighs] Mine too.
- We gotta be there for each other, bro.
- Why?
You want to borrow my lipstick.
- Guenzel, Sister Peter Marie has requested your presence.
- What for?
- My guess: to Saran wrap your brain.
- Hey, prag, come here.
You listen up.
You don't jabber one fuckin' word to her
about what we done to you.
- Yes, sir.
- And clean that shit off your face.
- So that's it.
You have nothing else to say.
- No, ma'am.
- Tell me about your relationship
with Tobias Beecher.
- I don't have a relationship with Beecher.
- We shared a cell in Em City, that's all.
- What about when you were both outside?
- Our families were friendly, but he's, like,
10 years older than me.
We never hung out or anything.
- What if I told you
that he's very concerned about you?
- I'd tell you he's a lying cocksucker.
I'm sorry for swearing.
- I've heard worse.
Why is he a liar?
- He knows why.
- You don't want to tell me?
- Ask him.
- Normally, my role in these sessions is to mediate,
to referee, but...
Today I'm gonna be a little more aggressive.
Our subject is Adam Guenzel.
I had a meeting with Adam Guenzel
when he first came to Oz.
Since then,
his behavior patterns have changed significantly.
Clearly he has been abused sexually
and I suspect that the three of you know the details.
Tobias?
- He was raped,
gang raped about a week ago.
- By whom?
- [coughs]
- I'm not investigating this as a crime.
I just want to help the boy.
Vern.
- I don't know what you're talking about.
- Said,
can you shed any light on this?
- No.
- Fine.
But I want you to know that I am not
letting this pass.
I'm going to be seeing Adam Guenzel every single day
until I can get him to open up,
until he can tell me exactly what happened.
This session is closed.
I am sick
of sitting in the same room with you.
- Adam Guenzel has become a liability.
- You think he'll blab to the nun?
- Uh-huh.
Hey, prag,
get in here.
[tense percussive tones]
- Yes, sir?
- I've got good news.
We're gonna help you escape.
[gate buzzes]
[tense percussive tones]
- Beecher, I've got some news.
Adam Guenzel is dead.
- What?
- They just found his body.
Evidently he was climbing the fence,
he was attempting to escape.
He got past the barbed wire,
but then the fence...
- He was electrocuted.
- 4,000 volts, straight through him.
- Fuck.
- I'm sorry.
[tense percussive tones]
[laughter]
- So...
that road to Hell that's paved with good intentions--
I'm not saying to make a detour,
only that before you make your first step,
consider the consequences.
Because good can turn to bad
in the blink of a fucking eye.
[tense jazzy music]
♪ ♪
[bright tone]