Losing Your Appeal
Written By: Teleplay by Tom Fontana and Bradford Winters, Story by Tom Fontana
Directed By: Keith Samples
Original Airdate: August 3, 1998
Transcribed: January 25, 2000. Last Revised: April 16, 2000

Oz is the property of Tom Fontana, Barry Levinson, Rysher Entertainment, and HBO. This page is not authorized by any of the above. Absolutely no copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this page.

(Hill narrating.)

Hill: Some people say the Bible is the greatest story ever told. Uh-uh. The best story is: boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy gets girl. Yeah, boy meets girl. That first moment when every corpuscle in your dick is percolating. Of course, not everybody has the same impulse.

(In Em City.)

Hanlon: What the hell you guys doing in my room?

Mack: Richie boy, where you been hiding all day?

Hanlon: Get off my bunk.

Mack: I want you to suck my dick.

Hanlon: Get lost.

Mack: You're a fag. You suck dick. What's the problem?

Hanlon: I suck the dicks I wanna suck so fuck off.

Mack: Richie, Richie. You shouldn't be talking that way to me. (Hanlon punches Mack and the other Aryans grab him.)

Wittlesey: Is there a problem, gentlemen?

Mack: No. (Wittlesey leaves and Mack punches him.) Better watch it, Richie. What happened to Alexander Vogel, gonna happen to you. You're gonna wake up tomorrow, hanging by your ankles. Yeah.

Hanlon: You killed Vogel?

Mack: Yeah. Me and Schillinger. Now suck my fucking dick.

(Hill narrating, with flashbacks of Hanlon's crime.)

Hill: Prisoner number 98H462, Richard Hanlon. Convicted June 3, '98, possession and distribution of controlled substances. Sentence: 8 years. Up for parole in 5.

(In Em City.)

Aryan: Hey, Richie.

Hanlon: Yeah?

Aryan: Me next?

Hanlon: What?

Aryan: I was watching you play Marky by the horn. Me next.

Hanlon: Fuck! (He punches the Aryan, who flips over the rail and down to the lower level.)

(In McManus' office.)

Hanlon: McManus, I swear, he was coming on to me. I shoved him away.

McManus: You're gonna be charged with murder.

Hanlon: Fuck.

McManus: Officer.

Hanlon: Shit, shit. Wait, wait. If I give you some information, what kind of deal can I get in return?

McManus: Well, that depends on your information.

Hanlon: It's about a murder. A real murder.

McManus: A murder here in Oz?

Hanlon: Alexander Vogel.

McManus: Vogel?

Hanlon: Yeah. I tell you who killed Vogel, can I get a lesser charge?

McManus: Well, that depends on if your information sticks.

(In an interview room.)

Glynn: Here we are again, Schillinger. Only this time I got proof that you killed Vogel.

Schillinger: Proof?

Glynn: Your friend Mack confessed.

Schillinger: Horseshit.

Glynn: He told another prisoner that you and he did the deed together.

Schillinger: Oh, a jailhouse confession? Please. Mack'll deny it. And it's the two of us, our word, against whoever the jabber is.

Glynn: Hmm. Mack's in the other room right now, spilling his guts out.

Schillinger: Like I said, horseshit. And even if he was, do you think I would admit to you that I did it? In your wildest fucking dreams, would I ever give you that satisfaction?

Glynn: No. Take him out.

(In the Hole.)

Hanlon: Yeah?

Metzger: Listen up and listen good. Some friends of mine are very upset you tried to pin a certain murder on 'em. For that you're a dead man.

Hanlon: Oh, Christ.

Metzger: However, they're offering you an alternative. Since you're already in here for one killing, they suggest you also confess to Alexander Vogel's murder. Take your chances with the court. At best, you get life. At worst, you get the death penalty. If you get life, my friends will let you live. If not, you're a dead man anyway. So choose.

Hanlon: Tell Glynn I want to see him. I have a confession to make.

Metzger: Good boy.

(In the showers.)

Said: Augustus.

Hill: Oh.

Said: It's almost time for the hearing.

Hill: I got lost in my head, man.

Said: What were you thinking?

Hill: Thinking that if all goes well, I might actually be rolling out of Oz. By sundown, I could be home with my wife, I could be in my house drinking a cold beer, watching the Yankees and the Orioles. You know what I'm saying? You know, by sundown, I could actually be free, man.

(In a hearing room.)

Bailiff: Formal hearing of case number 966133, Hill vs. the state.

Lima: Mr. Said?

Said: Your Honor, it is already a matter of public record that Richard Kimbler, while serving as a judge on the state criminal court, took money in exchange for giving out more lenient sentences to three convicted murderers.

Fortunata: Mr. Said claims bias against his client because he neither gave bribes nor knew of that possibility, but that in itself is not bias. The defendant has got to show the actuality, not the appearance of bias.

Said: At the same time that Kimbler was accepting bribes, my client came before him. Now, my client was found guilty and sentenced by Kimbler to life imprisonment with the possibility of parole in 20 years.

Fortunata: Your Honor, Augustus Hill murdered a police officer in cold blood.

Said: Objection.

Fortunata: The nature of his crime has direct bearing on his sentence.

Lima: Overruled.

Fortunata: Mr. Said has asked the court for an automatic reversal of Hill's conviction due to the circumstance of Judge Kimbler's conviction.

Said: Due to the circumstances of corruption, my client was denied the fundamental right to a fair trial, presided over by an impartial judge. And that therefore, Augustus Hill is entitled to an automatic reversal of his conviction.

Fortunata: But there is no precedent for the court to make such a ruling. In fact, to do so would in effect create a rule of law that is beyond the court's jurisdiction.

Lima: Mr. Said, call your first witness.

Bailiff: Augustus Hill, do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?

Hill: I do.

(In Em City.)

Busmalis: How's it going?

Hill: I can't tell yet. This guy Fortunata, he's tough. He's good.

Beecher: And Said?

Hill: He gets overruled a lot. I don't know. It's funny. I'm more nervous that I was during my first trial.

Rebadow: Makes sense. Then you'd never seen the inside of a prison, incarceration was really a concept. Now you know the reality. You know the price if the verdict goes against you.

Said: Augustus, we need a smoking gun. We need to find a convicted felon that was asked to give a bribe, didn't, and then was sentenced unfairly.

Rebadow: How do you know that one exists?

Beecher: And if he does, how do you find him? It's a needle in a haystack.

Said: Quickest way to find the needle, burn the haystack.

Hill: What the fuck does that mean?

(In Hill's pod.)

Said: Hello, my brother. A list of names of all the murderers convicted by Kimbler. If one of them testifies that they did not offer a bribe and we show that they were sentenced unfairly, we prove bias.

Hill: We ain't got time to contact all these people. Man, we in the middle of a trial. We should've thought of this a week ago, man.

(In Glynn's office.)

Glynn: I've already told you. No special phone privileges.

Said: Then let me use the fax to contact the men on the list.

Glynn: No. You think I'm gonna help you turn this prison into the People's Court? You win this one, you'll be re-opening the case of every prisoner in here.

Said: Is that wrong? To strive for justice?

Glynn: Justice?

Said: Yeah.

Glynn: Crooked judge or not, Hill shot a cop. Officer.

Said: Whether I win or lose this case, Warden, I am never going to stop helping my brothers fight for freedom.

(In Em City, at a card table.)

Said: He said no. Again. So I'm going to call my publisher and he will contact the lawyers of all the men convicted.

Hill: That's gonna take the one thing we ain't got: time.

Said: Then we create time. If the decision goes against us, I will appeal.

Hill: On what grounds?

Said: The only reason Judge Lima is overruling all my objections is racism.

Hill: Oh. It couldn't be because most of your objections are stupid. Right? No, it couldn't be because maybe you're not as good a lawyer as you think you are.

Said: Do you want to replace me? You wanna get Beecher to take up our cause?

Hill: Our cause? This is not our cause, this is my fucking life! I am not you, man! I don't want to be a martyr or a fucking saint! All I want is to get out of here and be free. Either you can do that or you leave me the fuck alone! Goddammit!

(In a hearing room.)

Lima: Does anyone else have anything to say before I give my ruling?

Said: Yes, Your Honor, I do.

Lima: Make it snappy, Mr. Said. I've got a long ride home. Rush hour.

Said: Because my client and I are prisoners, certain restrictions have been placed upon our time and resources. We do not have the opportunity to obtain further evidence.

Lima: Duly noted.

Said: One more thing, Your Honor. We'll probably never know what Judge Kimbler thought about Augustus Hill. But we have a pretty clear picture about what he thinks about justice.

Lima: Thank you. To the state's argument that because there is no precedent for reversing the conviction, that this court would be ruling beyond its jurisdiction, I say bunk. How do precedents become precedents unless some judge sets one. However, the state's view that the defendant must show more than the appearance of bias reigns true. I have reviewed the transcripts of Mr. Hill's trial thoroughly. At no point did Judge Kimbler, in word or deed, act beyond the limits of the rules of judicial procedure. And the sentencing, given the severity of the conviction, does not appear to be unduly cruel or unusual. Therefore, I rule in favor of the state and deny Augustus Hill's motion for a reversal of his conviction.

(In a hallway.)

Said: Do not lose faith, my brother. This is just the beginning.

Hill: No. It's over.

Said: Augustus...

Hill: No. I can't handle this shit anymore.

Said: I told you before, these things take time. The law is very...

Hill: It's not the law, man. It's not the law I can't handle. It's the hope. It's the hope that's crushing me, man.

Said: Hope? Hope is all we have.

Hill: No. All I have is Oz.

(In a classroom.)

Coushaine: All right, who wants to go next?

Poet: Hey, can I read a poem?

Coushaine: Yeah.

Poet: It's something I wrote.
The inside of my cell
See me be seduced by its serenity
In my search for privacy
Behind the locked cages
The makers of the rules rise
But peace dies
Curses is kisses
And adoration is disses
In this beautifully disgusting place
Where I see my forever
Call it Emerald City...

Wangler: Yo, faggot, you done with your faggotry yet?

Poet: Who you calling faggot?

Wangler: I'm calling you a fucking faggot, you faggot!

Coushaine: Hey, guys!

McManus: Hey, hey, hey! Now, you already started one fight in here. Next one's gonna be in Gen Pop. Step back. Go on, get outta here.

Coushaine: Wangler needs attitude realignment, you know.

McManus: Well, he's pissed off because I'm forcing him to come to class.

Coushaine: I don't get it. He was doing so well, learning how to read, now he's just shut off completely.

McManus: Well, Adebisi's giving him heat so I'm trying to give him room to move. What about Poet?

Coushaine: Kid's got talent.

McManus: Here's a tape recorder. You record five or six of his poems, give this back to me.

Coushaine: Why?

McManus: I've got a plan.

(In McManus' office.)

McManus: Thank you. Have a seat.

Said: What do you want, McManus?

McManus: I finished your book on the riot.

Said: I suppose you want my autograph.

McManus: I want to talk to you about Poet. There's some of his work. I want you to contact your publisher. Show him those poems.

Said: Do you remember the first time I sat in your office, McManus? You told me that my, quote, my celebrity status wouldn't get me any extra advantages inside of Oz. And you reminded me of that last week. And now here we are, with you taking advantage of me, of my status.

McManus: This isn't about you, Said. This is about Poet, his future.

Said: No, it's also about you. Having one of your students published will get you press coverage for your education program. You'd look like a hero.

McManus: You have the opportunity to help someone here, a fellow inmate.

Said: I don't need you to tell me when to help a brother.

McManus: Look, could we just put aside all the bullshit between us for once?

Said: Once.

(In Em City, behind a stairwell.)

Poet: C'mon, give me some tits. Give me some tits, man.

Adebisi: Hey, you haven't paid up in weeks. Fuck off.

Poet: Come on.

Wangler: Yo, yo, go write something, Dubois. A'ight?

(In the cafeteria.)

Said: You realize you've beaten the odds in here? You've held on to your gift.

Poet: Say what?

Said: I spoke to my publisher about you.

Poet: Publisher?

Said: Oh, yes. He's very interested in your work. Don't doubt yourself, my brother. They are alive. Sit. Let them mock you. In the end, they will see.

Poet: Not if I jab them in the motherfucking...

Said: You listen to me. You look at me, Poet. You have a responsibility, you have a calling.

Poet: Man, don't feed me none of that bullshit. You just tell me what the fuck I gotta do.

Said: Nothing. Do nothing, except trust me.

(In Em City.)

Poet: Yo, Kareem, you was right. You was right. I'm about to get published.

Said: Congratulations, my brother.

McManus: Hey, that's great. Where?

Said: It's an anthology of poems called Unheard America. They're giving him a featured appearance.

McManus: Oh, terrific.

Poet: And they're giving me cake.

(In the laundry room.)

Poet: Look at that. I got two. Tit me, man. Tit me, man.

Adebisi: Hey, how'd you get this?

Poet: Poetry.

Adebisi: Poetry. Who the fuck pays for poetry?

Poet: A publishing house put some of my work in their book.

Adebisi: Teach me to write. Teach me to write.

Poet: I can't teach you to write.

Adebisi: I want to write rhymes about Nigeria.

Poet: Don't nothing rhyme with Nigeria.

(In Poet's pod.)

Poet: Yo, what's up?

Said: You know, I have seen Adebisi destroy others with his own self-destruction.

Poet: Man, we was just doing laundry, man. We was doing laundry, man. What the fuck? You know, you're so fucking clean and righteous, man. I got demons crawling up my ass.

Said: So do I, my brother, but they can't take me down. You must learn to fight with your will, that is as sure as Allah.

Poet: They just keep coming.

Said: Illusions. This is your reality. Believe in his power, believe in his power to keep you.

Poet: That's that bullshit, you know. That's that bullshit.

Said: Believe.

Poet: Why?

Said: I have taken it upon myself to rally a network of eminent writers calling for your parole.

Poet: My parole?

Said: I'm telling you, my brother. We're going to turn you in a symbol of justice in America. You're going to be like the Phoenix, rising through your poetry, from the ashes of the crackhouse.

Poet: A symbol? Me? Shit.

Said: Yes.

(In Em City. The inmates are watching TV.)

Reporter: A crowd has gathered outside Oswald Maximum Security Penitentiary, in growing support for Arnold Jackson, an inmate whose poetry has (?) a movement of writers and artists demanding that he be granted a parole review. The campaign to free Mr. Jackson started with Foster Perry, the publisher of an upcoming anthology of marginal literature titled Unheard America. Many critics are saying this is a commercial ploy to create a sensation around the book, but several figures in the arts have committed their efforts to Mr. Jackson's release, claiming he is a rare talent lost inside our country's barbaric prison system.

Wangler: Fuck!

(Hill narrating.)

Hill: Boy meets girl. Boy loses girl. Boy gets girl. And that's the best part, right? After all that shit that's come before, the two lovers finally stare into each other's eyes and bang, the story ends. Only, what happens after boy gets down with girl? Well, he starts to get at her, she starts to get to him, boy makes girl crazy and vice versa.

(In the hospital.)

Ryan: Man, this is great. No work detail, no COs hassling me, no punks up in my face. I'm telling you, there's an upside to dying, Doc.

Nathan: You're not dying. The surgery was successful, the lump in your breast has been removed, the chemo's doing the rest.

Ryan: Yeah, so what are the chances of the cancer coming back?

Nathan: 90% of stage 2 men are alive after 5 years and 63% are alive after 10 years.

Ryan: I'm up for parole in 11 years. The way things go for me, I get released and, boom, the tumor's back.

Nathan: You're young. You're otherwise healthy. You'll be ok.

(Later in the hospital. Ryan notices his hair falling out. He picks up a razor and starts to shave his head.)

(In Em City.)

Rebadow: Ryan O'Reily's coming back to Emerald City today.

Hill: Oh, yeah? He's been in the hospital a long fucking time. Must be something really wrong with him.

Rebadow: I hear O'Reily had surgery at Benchton Memorial and now he's going through chemotherapy.

Hill: That's bad, man. That shit does bad shit to you.

Rebadow: It can also save your life.

(Ryan walks in and everyone stares at him. He goes to his pod.)

Ryan: What the fuck you looking at?

Kirk: Nothing, O'Reily.

Ryan: Get the fuck outta here! (Kirk leaves and Ryan throws up.)

(In the cafeteria.)

Ryan: Hey, I want back in the kitchen.

Peter: Forget about it.

Ryan: Listen, Schibetta, I'm not fucking around.

Pancamo: He said forget about it, cancer boy.

Aryan: Hey, O'Reily, you trying to look like us?

Ryan: Yeah, I'm trying to be ugly.

Aryan: People been wondering what exactly is wrong with you. Scatz here says it's cancer of the balls. Doctor cut 'em off. But I say that can't be it, because you didn't have any balls to begin with. (Ryan hits him and it sets off a fight. The COs drag him off.)

(In McManus' office.)

McManus: You know the rules, O'Reily. You get in a fight, you go to the Hole.

Ryan: So send me to the fucking Hole. I been there before. I ain't afraid.

McManus: Yeah, well, in your condition, you know, you're likely to get a cold, maybe die, and then I got a shitload of paperwork to do.

Ryan: Haha, that's funny.

Nathan: Look, Ryan, you've got six weeks of chemo left. So we decided you can stay in the ward until then.

McManus: Take him to the hospital.

(In the hospital.)

Nathan: Hey.

Ryan: Hey.

Nathan: How are you feeling?

Ryan: Physically, fine. I gotta tell you, ever since riding in the van on the way to surgery, being on the outside, since then that's all I can think about. You know, being free. Doing the things that I miss. Things that I can't do in here.

Nathan: Like what? What do you miss most?

Ryan: Kissing.

Nathan: You miss your wife.

Ryan: I miss affection. Any kind of affection. Like just before the operation, when you took my hand. The heat of your skin, it sent a brushfire through my body. Funny, huh? A simple thing like that, fingers touching fingers. I wanna touch you. I wanna kiss you.

Nathan: Don't.

(In the staff break room.)

Sister Pete: Hello, Gloria.

Nathan: Hey.

Sister Pete: What's wrong?

Nathan: What makes you think something's wrong?

Sister Pete: Well, I'm a psychologist and a nun. Usually between the two there's something wrong.

Nathan: You know, in med school, the one thing they keep pounding into our heads: doctors don't show emotion. Doctors keeps their distance. Doctors don't get involved with a patient.

Sister Pete: Oh, my. May I ask which one?

Nathan: Ryan O'Reily.

Sister Pete: Why him? Why are you attracted to him specifically?

Nathan: I don't know. He's handsome, he's got the bullshit Irish charm.

Sister Pete: And breast cancer.

Nathan: My mom had breast cancer, my aunt, my sister. I'm probably going to get it too. I know what he's going through.

Sister Pete: That's not love, Gloria, that's empathy. Want my advice? Go home to your husband, make love to him, stomp these feelings for O'Reily into the ground, because unless you do, you're gonna have trouble.

(In the hospital.)

Nathan: Well, it doesn't look like there'll be much scarring. How's the nausea?

Ryan: Gone.

Nathan: And your appetite?

Ryan: Back.

Nathan: Fatigue?

Ryan: Kiss me. Kiss me.

Nathan: No.

Ryan: Please? Hey, you know what I know and you feel what I feel.

Nathan: Ryan. (He kisses her.) Ryan! Officer! Take him back to Em City.

Ryan: Fine.

(In Em City. Ryan is in his pod masturbating. Hill, as narrator, is singing.)

(In Rebadow's and Busmalis' pod.)

Busmalis: Oh, you're peeing.

Rebadow: I'm trying.

Busmalis: I have to pee.

Rebadow: You're serious about escaping from Oz by digging a hole?

Busmalis: That's why they call me the Mole. I once dug my way into a bank vault with walls 20 feet into the ground.

Rebadow: And your offer to let me follow you out?

Busmalis: When I go I won't be looking back.

Rebadow: I see. If two people dig, it'll go faster, right?

Busmalis: Sure.

Rebadow: I used to be an architect. I know about structures. Let me help.

(In Solitary.)

Sister Pete: Hello, William. Sorry about the restraints.

Giles: Peter. Peter Marie. Peter. Peter Marie.

Sister Pete: Yeah, that's right. I thought I'd come by so we could talk.

Giles: Broom.

Sister Pete: Broom. Yeah, you said that last time to me.

Giles: Sick.

Sister Pete: You said that too. What's it mean? Sick and broom.

Giles: Amore.

Sister Pete: What are you trying to tell me? Sick. Broom. Amore. Sick.

Giles: No! No! No! No!

Sister Pete: It's ok! It's all right! It's ok. Calm down. Calm down. It's ok. William, shh. Calm down. We'll just take it as slowly as you want. We have all the time that you need, ok?

Giles: Street.

Sister Pete: Street?

Giles: Street.

Sister Pete: Avenue?

Giles: Street.

Sister Pete: OK, street.

(In a conference room.)

Coushaine: All I'm saying is that I don't see why we can't start these meetings with a prayer.

Alvarez: Come on, man.

McManus: Guys.

Coushaine: Said, don't you agree?

Said: A prayer in itself is meaningless unless those who offer it do so from true belief.

Alvarez: Enough of this shit! Can we just talk about sex?

Hill: Yeah, yeah, we wanna bring back conjugals.

McManus: I'm working on it, fellas. We're a long ways away. Next.

Peter: Yeah, I got a grievance. Certain guys stink. I know some people come from far away places where they don't bathe, but in America I think washing should be mandatory, if only for health code reasons.

Adebisi: You wanna bath me up, Little Nino? You'd like that, huh? Soaping me up.

Peter: (He spits on the floor.) There's your fucking bath right there. There's your fucking bath.

McManus: All right, I guess this meeting is adjourned. Back to your pods. Schibetta, to my office.

(In Peter's pod.)

Peter: Miguel.

Alvarez: Yo.

Peter: Sit.

Alvarez: I ain't staying too long.

Peter: You and me, we got a lot in common.

Alvarez: I don't think so.

Peter: Well, we both have Latin blood and we both peddle tits. Me, I'm strictly a street drug guy. Heroin, marijuana. You, 'cause you work in the prison hospital, you sell pharmaceuticals. So, I'm thinking we should combine.

Alvarez: No, thanks.

Peter: I'm willing to divide the pie 60-40, and you know I make a shitload more than you.

Alvarez: Why you wanna be so generous for me, man?

Peter: I want Adebisi dead.

Alvarez: What, do I look like a mook to you? Huh? You offering me 60-40 and alls I gotta do is kill Adebisi? Shit, why don't you have him do it? Huh?

Peter: Everyone knows I hate Adebisi. He turns up dead, no one suspects you.

Alvarez: That's bullshit. That's bullshit. Now I tell you what you're thinking. You're thinking the spic kills el toro, they end up at war. No offense, no offense, but drop fucking dead.

(In the cafeteria.)

Adebisi: Hey, papi, I been thinking.

Alvarez: Yeah? Must be a new experience for you, huh?

Adebisi: About me and you in business.

Alvarez: Shit. I shoulda read my horoscope, you know. Today's my lucky day. Everybody wanna share the wealth. Don't tell me, let me guess, right, you want me to kill him, right? You know the rules. We don't whack wise guys.

Adebisi: Fuck the rules. Schibetta ain't Nino. This one got no balls. Neither do you.

Guerra: Yo, you gonna let him fucking disrespect you like that, man?

Alvarez: Hey, shh. He ain't but two breaths away from going down. Us, we're gonna pull up a lawn chair, we gonna sit back, we gonna relax, and we gonna watch 'em go. You got me? And then we're gonna pick up the pieces of whatever is left over. All right?

Guerra: All right.

(In Em City at night. Adebisi and Peter stare at each other through their pods and Alvarez watches them both.)

Alvarez: Come on, boys. Be all that you can be.

(Hill narrating.)

Hill: Now, you're probably saying, boy meets girl, that's one boring fucking story. It's always ending the same. But there are variations on the theme like boy meets dog, boy loses dog, boy buys new dog. Or girl meets psychiatrist, girl goes to therapy for the next ten years. Or, in Oz, there's always boy meets boy. (Flashbacks to Keller's crime.) Prisoner number 98K514, Christopher Keller. Convicted June 16, '98, felony murder, two counts attempted murder, assault with a deadly weapon, robbery, driving while under the influence, reckless driving. Sentence: 88 years. Up for parole in 50.

(In Em City.)

Wittlesey: Hill, gather your stuff. You're moving to another pod.

Hill: What? Why?

Wittlesey: McManus wants to keep mixing things up. He doesn't want roommates getting attached to each other.

Beecher: Who's moving in here?

Wittlesey: New guy.

(In the waiting area for new inmates.)

Wittlesey: Chris Keller, Tobias Beecher. He'll be your sponsor in Emerald City. He's gonna show you the ropes.

(In Em City.)

Keller: So you a fag?

Beecher: No, you?

Keller: I do what I have to.

Beecher: (Rhyming.) Rats in the garden, catch 'em Towser
Cow's in the cornfield, run, boys, run
Cat's in the cream pie, stop her, now, sir
Fire in the mountain, run, boys, run.

(Outside the phones.)

Mack: You new, prag? It's gonna cost you ten dollars to use the phone.

Keller: What?

Mack: It's gonna cost you ten bucks to get in there.

Keller: Oh, yeah?

Mack: Yeah. (Keller hits him in the face with his cast. Another Aryan attacks Keller and Beecher runs out and pulls the Aryan off.)

Wittlesey: What's going on? What's going on? Come on, I'll take you to the ER.

Keller: I owe you.

Beecher: I didn't do it for you, pal. I hate those Aryan fucks.

(In McManus' office.)

McManus: Come in, Beecher. Sit down. The other day, before Hill's hearing, I met Judge Grace Lima.

Beecher: Oh, really? How is the cunt?

McManus: She asked about you.

Beecher: The cunt put me in here. The cunt gave me the toughest sentence possible.

McManus: She asked me if she could come see you.

Beecher: What a cunt. You know, my trial lasted 28 days. And every single one of those days, I had to stare up at that cunt's face while she banged her cunt gavel and instructed the jury to fuck me over. I didn't have a choice. I had to see the cunt. Now, I don't have to.

McManus: Yes, you do.

Beecher: Are you gonna force me?

McManus: Yes.

Beecher: Why?

McManus: Because I think it'll be therapeutic. Ultimately, you'll thank me.

Beecher: You know what? You're a cunt too.

(In Glynn's office.)

Lima: Mr. Beecher, I appreciate your taking the time to see me.

Beecher: Well, you know, it's a nice break from getting fucked up the ass.

McManus: Beecher.

Lima: It's all right. You can speak freely. I'm afraid in court you never had that chance.

Beecher: Would it have made a difference?

Lima: No.

Beecher: Lady, what do you want?

Lima: I've been a judge for 16 years. I've made over 2500 decision, most of them were good, but only one has haunted me. Yours. You see, I've always prided myself on being fair, that in my court justice was truly blind. But in your case, that little girl, her parents crying, you being a member of the bar, your prior arrest for DUI, the senselessness of it all, it caught up with me. I was quick-tempered and spiteful to the point where I can't tell if I gave you a fair trial. Now, seeing you like this, I think maybe the punishment exceeded the crime. And I'm, well...

Beecher: You're what? You're sorry? Your Honor, you used all your power to crush me. But the truth is, I did kill Kathy Rockwell. And as much as I tried to manipulate the legal system to get off, to get out of it, I took her life. According to the law, each crime is worth a certain number of years. You gave me a maximum of 15 years in this fuckhole. Is that too much? Too harsh? Not enough? I don't know. You say you're haunted by what you did? Well, so am I. If you came here for me to forgive you, you've come to the wrong man. He ceased to exist the day Kathy Rockwell did. And you're not gonna get any more peace out of him than I do out of her. (He stands up to leave and looks at McManus.) Yeah, this was very therapeutic. Thanks. (He leaves.)

Lima: I'm sorry.

(In Beecher's and Keller's pod at night. Beecher is having nightmares and wakes up screaming.)

Keller: Hey! Hey!

Beecher: Don't touch me!

Keller: I just wondered what happened.

Beecher: You keep your fucking hands off me, you fucking faggot!

Keller: All right. All right.

(In the showers.)

Beecher: How's it going?

Keller: Showering with this baby on is a bitch.

Beecher: About last night, calling you a faggot...

Keller: Forget about it. I've had my share of nightmares. Look, when you helped me out the other day by the phones, I told you, I owe you. The way I figure it, you and me, we're not like the rest of 'em. The Latinos, the homeboys, the Aryans, they all got each other. But you and me, you and me are standing out there with our dicks swinging in the wind. We should be able to rely on each other, you know. Trust each other.

Beecher: Well, it's hard for me to trust somebody.

Keller: Me too. We got a long fucking time together so why don't we just see what happens, all right? Yeah?

Beecher: All right.

Keller: Good.

(In the gym.)

Mack: Hey, you cocksucker!

Schillinger: Calm down, Mark!

Mack: He broke my nose. You broke my motherfucking nose!

Schillinger: Hey!

Keller: Give it your best shot.

Schillinger: Back off. We're ok here, Officer. Come on, go work it off. So how goes Operation Toby?

Keller: It'll take some time. But don't worry. Sooner or later, Beecher'll be mine.

(Hill narrating.)

Hill: Boy meets girl. Boy gets laid. What makes us want to fuck somebody? Is it the color of their eyes, the shape of their legs, the spike of their heels? Or is what the poets tell us, that there's something deeper. A shared loss, a longing to find someone who knows the depth of our sadness. Some people search their whole lives for that someone. (Shots of Kirk sweeping on Death Row and Bellinger lifting her dress for him.) Some find them, some don't. Some fool themselves into believing they're in love. And in Oz, most times, the illusion is better than the reality.