Our justice system sucks.
You know, there are over two million Americans behind bars.
That's a little larger than the population of Houston.
Every year, there are enough children
born in prison to fill 250 Little League teams
and enough people are raped in prison
to fill a stadium more than three times.
Can you picture that?
Three stadiums full of people raping each other?
I know I can.
My name's John Lyshitski. I just got out of prison.
I don't know. Do you have anything bigger?
Yeah. That's more like it.
If I had a nickel for every time I've been incarcerated,
I'd have 15 cents.
It all started when I was eight years old.
I stole the Publishers Clearing House prize patrol van.
Thought there'd be a million bucks inside.
Where's the check? Where's the check?
Wait!
They caught me when I tried to cash the giant check.
That was the first time I met Judge Nelson Biederman,
who changed my life with the magic word.
Guilty.
You see, Johnny,
the reason we have all these laws and rules to live by
is so that we can help guide
all the little boys with big dreams
and a chance for a bright future,
and so that we could help protect them
from worthless scum like you.
Seven years, juvenile detention.
And with that, Judge Biederman
began my trip through the justice machine.
The machine works.
It took me, a confused child,
and turned me into a for-real, no-shit felon.
Hey!
Hit the ground, motherfuckers
or I'll fill you full of more holes than the Asshole Day parade.
There's an Asshole Day parade?
Motherfucker.
Guilty.
Four years, and if being a moron were a crime, Mr. Lyshitski,
you would never see the light of day again.
I got out again when I was 24.
Then that same ass-wipe, Judge Biederman,
sent me back when I was 24 and a half.
Four to seven years.
The next time you steal a car, Mr. Lyshitski,
check to see if there are lights on the roof.
You liked that one?
I'm out again, and I intend to spread the pain around.
Starting with His Honor himself.
Take him down piece by piece.
Kick off his dog, strangle his cat,
shit in his pillowcase, burn down his garage.
Then I'll get really creative.
Hello?
Hi. Is this the municipal courthouse?
Great. My name is Ken Kennedy.
I'm calling from the Chicago Tribune.
Yes, we're doing a story down here
on some of the city's longest-serving public figures
and we would love to see Judge Nelson Biederman III at work.
So could you tell us which times this week that he will be on the bench?
Uh-huh.
And how long ago did you say that he died?
Three days! Fuck!
Who's got a six-letter synonym for "deprived of"?
Robbed.
Anybody want to buy me a champagne drink?
How about a fancy beer?
15 bucks for a lap dance.
Yeah, I'm not that horny. I just got out of prison.
Holy shit!
"Nelson Biederman the IVth."
I guess when one door slams shut, another one swings open.
Well, look out, Nelly. You're about to meet
the other man your father helped raise.
Crimes are everywhere.
They're in our parks, they're in our streets, and they're in our schools.
That's why I need you to be part of...
Where the hell are you guys?
Well, why the hell do I have to be here if you don't?
Yeah, I know he was my father.
Thanks for the fucking newsflash.
Don't give me that shit, Duane.
Hello, Nelly.
I give you now the new chairman of the Biederman Foundation
whose generosity has made this all possible,
Nelson Biederman IV.
I want to thank you all for attending this honorarium
for my dear, departed Daddy.
Now, boys and girls, are you ready to have your minds blown?
Well, what you got, Nelson?
A lot of people didn't think that this neighborhood needed
a $7-million, original Yoko Ono.
Well, those people didn't grow up on these streets.
And maybe I didn't either,
but I am forced to drive through here on my way to the airport
and I believe that anything that I can do
to make your lives and my drive more beautiful is worth doing.
That's why I, Nelson Biederman IV,
in honor of my late father, officially declare
Judge Nelson Biederman III Park open.
- Biederman Foundation. - Duane.
- Oh, hello? - It's me, Nelson.
- Who is this? - Nelson. Listen to me, Duane.
That is the last time that I go to
one of those goddamn events with Sergeant Barker.
- Excuse me, who? - Sergeant Barker,
the dog that hates crack and stuff. Listen to me, Duane.
I'm gonna be in the office in half an hour.
When I get there, there better be a Fresca waiting for me
and when I say Fresca, I mean Fresca.
It better not be a Fanta or a Sprite or a Bubble Up or a 7Up.
I want it to be a fucking Fresca! Do you understand me?
Yes, sir.
Oh my. Look at this.
Okay.
No! No!
We have no money.
Look at this.
Old Nelson IV's got his pinky caught in the same machine his daddy threw me into.
The boys in the legal department think
the best course of action would be for you to plead guilty,
plea bargain to keep this as quiet as possible,
and step down as chairman of the Foundation.
Well, then, you tell the boys in the legal department
that they are a bunch of dipshits,
because I am innocent.
Well, apparently, the police have a videotape of you committing the crime.
You, or one of those other cadaverous bag-of-bone a-holes
sitting at that table,
better strap on a goddamn piss-bag,
get down here and get me out of here
or you're all gonna be replaced! You got it, Duane?
I'll buy this place and have it burned to the ground.
Well, should we call the governor?
He owes us one.
That would get him out.
Does anybody here want him out?
Okay. How about this?
I will represent Nelson with the help of our dipshit department.
Super!
Case number 9741,
State of Illinois v. Nelson Perth Biederman IV.
The Honorable Judge Eva Fwae-Wan presiding.
"Just tell her what you think"?
Just tell her what you think.
Okay. Shit.
Permission to approach, Your Honor.
What is it, Mr. Biederman?
Look, I'm gonna be frank.
Off the record, you knew my father.
I've assembled the finest legal team that money can buy.
Those guys.
You got better things to do, I got better things to do.
We both know all I'm gonna get is a slap on the old wrist
and a formal apology
and a case of champagne from the governor.
Why don't we all just try to move this thing along
as quickly as possible?
Well, Mr. Biederman, off the record,
I am going to hurry this along,
but it's because people like you make me sick
and I don't want your Drakkar Noir stinking up my courtroom.
Prosecution, present your case!
The three scariest words in the English language.
"Trial by jury."
Juries are made up of 12 people who are so dumb
they couldn't even think up an excuse to get out of jury duty.
I'm just proud to be a part of the American judicimal system.
I mean, uh, judaical.
I was so happy to be picked for jury duty.
It's like watching Court TV,
except I'm in the TV,
just like the boy from Willy Wonka.
Before my daddy died, he taught me one thing.
See the thumb goes away, comes back.
Judaical system?
No. Jewidecimal system.
That ain't right.
Mr. Hinkley?
Oh, yeah?
You may proceed with your defense.
Watch this.
Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,
you've all seen Jurassic Park
and yet you're aware that Jeff Goldblum has
never actually been attacked by dinosaurs.
Even though you've seen it with your own eyes
on a TV not unlike that one.
I rest my case.
Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,
have you reached a verdict?
Yes, we have, Your Honor.
We, the jury, find the defendant, Nelson Biederman,
quilty.
Do you mean guilty?
Oh, yeah. Well, it kind of looked like it was a "Q."
Nelson Biederman, you've been found guilty of felony assault.
I sentence you to three to five years
in the Rossmore State Correctional Facility.
This court is adjourned.
Fuck. Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Fuck!
Nelson Biederman IV
is gonna get beaten, tortured, raped,
psychologically abused and raped some more
by the so-called justice system.
So why am I not happy?
I feels like it's prom night
and everyone else is porking my date.
I'm gonna have a heart attack if you don't give me my medication...
You see this all the time. Ma'am, please, we need to talk to Derek right now.
Oh, fuck you. I don't even know where he could be...
Can we talk to him?
You pissed me off because... I mean I went to my own...
Do you own this house? I mean...
And you know what? I need my medication.
Silverman took my medication away from me! I could have a heart attack.
Hey, John, you okay?
You seem sort of...
Clinically depressed. Yeah.
I don't know, guys.
Don't you ever wonder if there's more to life than smoking grass
and watching guys get arrested on TV?
I got some coke.
Hey. You John?
We're here to buy some pot.
Yeah, my friend said you'd hook us up.
My friend Ben Franklin?
Any felon worth his salt
can smell undercover cops from 20 paces,
and there's no way in hell he'd do something crazy like sell pot to them.
Unless he actually wanted to go to jail.
You guys should probably take off.
What for?
Those two clowns I just sold grass to are cops.
You didn't buy that whole Cheech and Chong routine, did you?
I can't believe they fell for the Cheech and Chong bit.
Police! Open up!
Come on, John!
Open the door or we're coming in.
I guess sometimes when fate knocks on your door,
it has a search warrant.
I'll go to jail.
I'll get bunked up with Nelson Biederman IV
and I'll make sure he gets the full treatment.
Yup. My whole life's been leading up to this.
Guilty as hell. Guilty?
Now if we could discuss sentencing?
Save it, Lyshitski.
How does seven-to-ten work for you?
Not as good as one-to-three.
Five-to-seven?
I'll settle for three-to-five, but wait. There's more.
What's that? I want to do my time in Rossmore.
You actually want to go to Rossmore Penitentiary? Why?
Three words, sister. Location, location, location.
Hey. John Lyshitski.
What's your name?
Nelson Biederman IV.
Where you heading?
Prison.
Me, too.
Tell you what, we should be cellmates.
I don't snore and I'm a pretty quiet masturbator.
Hell, I'll even give you the top bunk.
Thanks.
Thanks for talking to me.
Last couple days in the holding cell,
some of these gang members
were really giving me the cold shoulder.
It's inexcusable.
That's what I thought.
I mean, why be that way?
Welcome to your new home.
Let me start off by saying that if any one of you is innocent,
just raise your hand.
You'll be free to go.
Come on, baby! You gonna be mine!
Yeah, we're tossing salad! That's what I'm talking about!
Put your little finger up, baby! Yeah!
You gonna be my bitch up in here!
That was my little joke.
I have a notoriously dry sense of humor.
All right. Here's how it's gonna work.
If you make my life difficult,
I will make your life exponentially more painful.
Yeah!
If you have a complaint,
all you have to do,
write it down on a piece of paper,
put it in an envelope
and stick it up your asshole.
Give me some brown sugar! Tell them how we do it, boy!
If you feel that you've been treated unfairly,
write it neatly on some paper, fold it up real good,
pull your cheeks apart and stick it up your asshole.
If you have comments or suggestions about how I run my prison
or, let's say, maybe the cuisine is not to your liking,
please write a letter to my office.
Just make sure that under "return address," you write the word "asshole,"
so that my head guard, Mr. Shanahan, can assist you
in pulling your cheeks apart
and sticking it up your asshole.
He's got some pretty eyes. Pretty lips.
Come on, that was funny.
All right! Move it out!
Cell 433. I want you to sign right there.
Move off, Biederman.
Lyshitski, John Q.
Hello, Johnny. How you doing?
Rooney. No glasses. You got the surgery.
Yes, I did.
One Metallica t-shirt, Master of Puppets.
One money clip.
I'd like to room with Biederman.
Empty. Cell number 433.
Sign right there.
Can I get my old shit?
Give it to him.
So fate, with a little help from every last nickel I had,
threw me into a cell with the esteemed Nelson Biederman IV.
Today is the first day of the rest of my beautiful life.
People think they can't imagine
what it feels like to be in prison.
It's easy.
You know that bolt of fear you get
when you see a cop's flashing red lights in your rear view?
It makes you dizzy and kind of sick to your stomach.
Now imagine feeling that 24 hours a day
while you're surrounded by convicted killers who feel the exact same way.
It'd kind of put you on edge, huh?
Well, that's life in the machine.
Nobody's here to relax, and once you're in,
there's only one quick way out.
In a body bag.
- Dead man rolling! - Dead man rolling!
Wait...
Well, be it ever so humble.
I'll just take the top.
It doesn't seem like they cleaned this toilet up.
It's disgusting.
Hey, bro, hold it. You got two minutes.
You want in on it? Come on. What we got here?
Look, amigo, if you're gonna make it in here, you better smarten up.
Those pricks out there see you like this, you won't make it a week.
You don't wanna die in your first week, do you?
No.
Right.
So you got to trust me. Do what I do.
Just keep your mouth shut and try not to cry.
It's all right to cry.
Crying takes the sad out of you.
"Crying takes the sad out of you"?
Hey, that shit may have flown back when you were a human being,
but you're not now. You're a piece of meat and you're in the grinder.
The softer you are, the more it's gonna grind you up,
and the more them animals are gonna wanna eat you.
All right, you gotta toughen up.
Show me your tough face.
Show me Nelson's tough face.
Jesus, you look like you're going to take a shit, or something.
Hey, John. How you doing?
Same Lyshitski, different day.
Got some mail for you.
Bit backed up. Couple weeks.
Who's the new guy?
That is Nelson Biederman IV.
He got to take a shit or something?
- No, he's trying to look like bad meat. - Yeah.
Okay.
Now keep it quiet down there.
Look at this, we can order out.
I need some toilet paper, what's up?
Well, we got to you.
So now what do we do?
Hmm?
What do you mean?
What do I mean?
I mean, what are we... What are we supposed to do?
We're doing it, man. This is it.
We're right in the thick of the action.
We hang out here, go to lunch,
come back, hang out some more, go to dinner.
You know how someone might describe a situation
that's unpleasant or confining as being "like a prison"?
Yeah. This is what they were referring to.
Cállate la boca!
It costs $54 a day to keep a person in prison,
which comes out to $75 million a day nationally.
That's $28 billion a year.
When you think about it,
wouldn't it be cheaper just to let us keep your goddamn car stereos?
What's on the menu today, good sir?
That's meat. That ain't meat.
Ain't meat.
Hit me with some meat.
Hey, come on, hurry up.
Great American melting pot.
You know, 20% of all prisoners aren't even US citizens?
About 10% are Mexican, 2% Colombian.
I can't tell the difference.
How do you know all this stuff, John?
I'm on a lot of weird mailing lists.
See those bad asses over there?
They're the White Kingdom.
They pretty much run the roost.
He who controls the smack, controls the joint, and by "he," I mean him.
Lynard. Don't be fooled, though.
Underneath all those swastikas he's a real prick.
Hey, hey. You ain't gonna eat that, right?
At exactly 12:15, stand up.
Why?
Just do it. It's kind of a prank.
Oh.
We used to do this sort of thing all the time at prep school.
A couple of the boys wanted to put one over on old Professor LaRoche.
At exactly the appointed minute,
all the boys would push their books down onto the floor.
Old LaRoche almost had a heart attack... Oh, shit. Not the face.
Not the face!
Break it up! Break it up!
You, fish, who started this shit?
Leave it alone.
He did.
All right, Lynard, you're going to the hole.
Lunch is over, ladies, hit the showers! Move it!
That's gotta be the stupidest goddamn thing I've ever seen.
Never narc on somebody.
I mean, haven't you seen any prison movies?
You told me to.
Yeah. I didn't mean for you to tell the truth.
You're dead, and I'll probably gonna get kicked in the teeth just for talking to you.
I'm sorry.
Okay.
Listen, from now on you do exactly as I say. Exactly.
Okay? Okay.
Just remember, number one rule in prison,
always look out for your cellmate.
Remember, the number one rule in prison,
never trust anybody.
Of all the fears men have about prison,
loss of liberty, eating bad food,
claustrophobia, loneliness,
none of them compare to the prospect of being fucked up the ass.
So, what's a beautiful white boy like you
doing in a place like this?
Three to five.
Soft time, huh?
Yeah.
I like soft things.
You know, like, soft music,
maybe a soft little baby duck on Easter morning.
You like little baby ducks?
Hey, back the hell off, Barry.
He's my bitch.
Hey, Lyshitski, how's it hanging?
Little to the right, I see.
Hey, he's my property, dickmonster.
You guys got that?
This little filly's all mine.
You can look, but don't touch.
Juliet's asshole's got one name stenciled on it. Mine.
Romeo. Romeo Lyshitski. Capisce, amigos?
No rear entry.
That goes for you.
That big bastard's the head of the Black G-Lords.
I don't mean to sound ungrateful, John,
but did you have to stick your finger up my ass?
No. Probably not.
But it happened.
You've gotta get me out of here. Now!
Before I become bitch du jour for one of the G-Lords.
I don't care how much it costs. I want out.
Well, that's just it, Mr. Biederman,
you don't have any money.
What're you talking about? I have millions.
Well, the Foundation does, yes,
but legally, you have no access to the Foundation's funds
unless you are chairman, which you are no longer.
My father started the Biederman Foundation.
My name is Nelson Biederman! You can't fire me!
Actually, according to the Foundation's charter, we were required to.
So, without Foundation funds, you don't have a dime.
Unless you've been working a paper route on the side.
I'm so sorry.
That's why I brought you a Fresca.
Hey, hey. Sit down.
After all, we are a charity.
So here. Just lean in. Go ahead.
- No food or drinks! - Oh.
Ouch. I'm sorry, Mr. Biederman.
Hurry it up. A lot of people waiting.
Duane!
Thank you for the pencil, John.
No problem. Found it in the shitter.
All right, Johnny, how much for real?
Well, he's a really good friend of mine.
I couldn't possibly let you have him for anything less than, say,
half ounce of grass, four cartons of smokes?
Shit. Honky, please. You out your mind?
Hey, you want to break off a piece of that white chocolate,
it's going to cost you.
Well, shit.
Your name must be Monty Hall, motherfucker,
'cause we just made a deal.
You gonna say it to my fist!
Come on, man!
What's with the robe, John?
Well, if you wanna keep getting the catalog,
you got to order something every now and again.
Figured I'd get more use out of this than a Miracle Bra.
Lyshitski, garbage detail!
Wait, you're not gonna leave me in here by myself, are you?
I'll be back in 20 minutes. Just remember your tough face.
Oh, spooky.
Looks like he has to take a shit. Come on!
Hold the fort, amigo.
Hey, thanks, Shanahan.
Don't thank me, asshole, just pay me.
I'd like to apologize for the crassness of my associates.
I doubt very much if they've even cracked the binding on Emily Post.
Would you like some merlot?
I make it in the toilet.
Are you Pisces?
Yeah, I knew it.
How do you do it, Barry? How do you do it?
So what shall we drink to?
Oh, I know.
Serendipity.
What a delightful force of nature, serendipity.
Yummy.
Look here, Nelson, can I ask you a question?
Does my ass look big to you?
No? Liar!
I ought to cut your stinking-ass, lying throat for lying!
I'm a cow! A big-hipped, fat, nasty, gelatin-assed, buttermilk-making cow!
You wear it very well.
Oh.
Well.
Thank you, sweet thing.
But look here, now,
don't you ever lie to Barry again, you hear me?
'Cause if you do,
I'm gonna have to remove your genitals and put them in a shoebox.
You understand?
Yeah. So now I'm going to tell you a little secret, Nelson.
Boy, I go apeshit for Chuck Mangione.
But enough small talk.
You're new here, so let me tell you how this shit go.
You see, I own you, little Pisces.
You are my property, to do with as I please,
but we don't have to do everything tonight. Hell, we got three to five.
So for now
what say you just give Barry a little Eskimo kiss?
Eskimo kiss ain't never hurt nobody, right?
Sorry.
I can't.
Oh, baby.
Don't make me go get no shoebox, now.
Come on. Eskimo.
- Eskimo! Eskimo! - Eskimo! Eskimo!
Oh, come on now.
You didn't think old Barry was going to
just take advantage on the first date, did you?
If you did,
then I guess you just don't know Barry.
No, no.
Prepare to be wooed
by the master.
Hell, yeah.
"Dear new pen pal,
"my name is Nelson Biederman IV.
"I'm 30 years old,
"and I've been in prison for three months.
"In this hell-hole,
"I've had my ass kicked so many times
"my shit has footprints in it."
"But you know what? I think I'm going to make it.
"At least I can rest assured
"it can't possibly get any worse.
"Anyway, thanks for listening.
"I'll have to sign off now, as someone is pissing on me.
"Your new friend, Nelson."
That's a message from Lynard. He gets out of the hole today.
He can't wait to see you.
Sleep tight.
I'm dead. Not necessarily.
He might just kick your ass.
Really? Yeah.
I mean, every day.
For months or years,
till you're dead.
Man, I'm hungry. You wanna go grab some lunch, bud?
Dead man walking.
He's not gonna kill me here, is he?
Oh, no. All the smart money's bet on the rec yard.
Wait, people are betting on when I'm gonna be killed?
Of course. Prison's a boring place. They'll bet on anything.
Shanahan's the bank.
Hell, I lost four cartons of smokes
on how much one of Jesus' turds weighed.
Look, this is ridiculous.
I'm gonna go talk to Lynard,
reason with him as one adult to another,
apologize to him, and put this entire thing behind us.
I can't see how you can go wrong.
Thanks.
That's the one over here, fool. What I'm talking about.
Hey, come on, hurry it up.
Mr. Lynard.
Mr. Lynard,
I know that we did not start
under the best of circumstances,
so I just want to say how sorry I am for the misunderstanding...
Okay.
I deserved that.
I deserved that. I...
Well, we're even.
I have done you wrong,
and twice, you have stabbed me with forks.
So let's just try to put this whole thing behind us
and carry on about this business of living.
Sit.
Well, I should really get back to my friends.
Sit.
It took a lot of guts to do what you did.
Nobody's ever stood up to me before,
except my old man.
I'm sure he's a great man.
I killed him.
I'm gonna kill you the same way.
You didn't kill him with kindness? Did you?
With a hammer.
Like the Beatles song.
Don't scream.
Now, give me my eating utensil back.
Your mama! That's what I'm looking at.
Hey, bud, how'd it go? Super.
All right. So he's not going to kill you?
No, he is, just not right now.
Not here, fellas.
Thank you.
Thanks for playing.
Hey, don't sweat it, compadre.
The way I see it is you still got three options.
You could kill yourself, you could fight him,
or you could just let him kill you,
which honestly might be your best solution.
Or you could always move out to the boondocks.
Get a little place of your own, private cell.
Private cell?
How do I do that?
Well, just stand right here. Okay?
Hey!
- Watch it! - That ain't mine. It's cool.
Hi.
When you're already in jail
and you break the rules you think,
"What the hell are they gonna do, throw me in jail?"
The answer's yes.
It's called isolation. The hole.
In the hole, it's impossible to tell the difference
between five minutes and forever.
Your mind plays tricks on you,
you get depressed, you get disoriented,
but most folks just suffer from extreme panic
and vivid, horrifying hallucinations.
Nelson. Nelson.
- Who's there? - It's me, Nelson, Sergeant Barker.
The dog that fights crack.
Please! Please open the door!
Had enough of yourself already?
I don't blame you. Let's go.
- How long was I in there? - Two days.
Hey. Look who's back.
How are you, killer?
Nice stubble. Very Miami Vice.
Get out of here.
Looks good.
Looks beautiful. Looks beautiful.
How you holding up, Nelson?
I'm not going to make it.
What do you mean?
You're not thinking about doing yourself in, are you?
My friend, I'm all out of smack today,
but you may be in luck.
Because I've got some very nice alternatives.
Paprika.
That's right. Paprika.
A mere two, three pounds of this stuff, boom! To the moon.
Only side effects may be some mild-to-uncontrollable shitting.
I need something that will kill me.
Oh, it's like that.
I don't condone that, my friend,
but pretty much any of this shit'll kill you.
Oh yeah, I got old standard drain cleaner.
Brass cleaner.
Oh!
Eureka. Oh, yeah.
This is something called boat cleaner.
I think it's used to clean boats with.
Give me the boat cleaner and a needle.
"Dear Pen Pal.
"Well, I'm beaten. It's all over for me.
"I have to do whatever I have to do
"to get away from the evil, soulless douchebags
"who populate this filth-infested shit hole."
"I dream about lining up the ass-wipes
"who run this place
"and cutting off their dicks.
"Pardon my fucking French. I guess they win.
"They've made me into one of them.
"From one vicious motherfucker to another.
"Good luck with the rest of the second grade and stay free.
"Your pal in the pen, Nelson."
I'm sorry I missed your letter, Billy.
Okay. Jane, you're next.
Hey, Nelson, I'm gonna take a quick walk.
See you later.
You know, it's times like this
when I think about something my dad once said to me.
He said, "Oh, God, please don't kill me
"with the hammer, Lynard, please."
Hey! I don't need any help here.
Back off or you're next.
You're not part coon, are you?
I'd have a lot more fun doing this if you were part coon.
Hey, let's hold it down in here.
Sorry, no coon.
Mostly Dutch.
Well, I'm gonna kick you in the face anyway, I guess.
Ring around the rosy.
Well, hee-haw. What have we here?
That's mine.
You're holding out on your old pal Lynard.
No, Lynard, it's not that, it's... It's my last fix.
Oh, yeah.
Please. Kill me if you want, Lynard,
but please don't make me face it sober.
Screw yourself, dickhead.
You don't need this where you're going.
I'm begging you.
Don't do it.
Don't throw me into the briar patch.
Do what?
If you weren't such a white-supremacist asshole,
you would have read up on your Uncle Remus.
I did what I had to do.
You heard the man. Back up, boys.
Well, that was pretty goddamn weird.
You know, you're gonna get another 20 years for that.
For what? I didn't do anything.
He shot himself up.
I got the needle right here.
Fuck.
So the plot fucking thickens.
What did you say? Hmm?
Nothing. Did I say that out loud?
Oh shit, John.
They're all staring at me. What do I do?
Just play it cool, amigo.
Hey, I got something for you.
No, man, I don't want any Biederman action.
What do you want?
I just wanted to say I owe you one.
Lynard was the kind of dickhead who gives Nazis a bad name.
So anyway, from now on, White Kingdom's got your back.
Yeah. Brother. White Kingdom.
- White Kingdom. - White Kingdom. Yeah.
What the hell is going on?
I think you're tippy-top dog now.
That's ridiculous. No one's scared of me.
Well, let's see.
Yo, cueball.
Your fat ass is stinking up Biederman's seat.
Pop up.
Look, I don't want no trouble.
Well, that's good to hear, you...
Pussy. Pussy.
So are you gonna move or do my friends have to move you for me?
Good, because I don't take no crap from no
Lucian Freud-looking pussies like you.
Hey. Get your fingers out of my plate! You crazy?
Wow. I really, really can't believe that worked.
Of all the bathroom stalls in all the correctional facilities in all the world,
he walks into mine.
Haven't you heard the news, Barry?
The news? Oh, yeah.
Barry finally pitches, Pisces catches,
home team wins.
Don't even think about it, Barry.
That hurt, Nelson.
Not physically,
but I thought we'd gotten past
this point in our relationship.
What are you talking about?
Well, over the last few months
I've started to like you a lot.
Grown accustomed to your face, if you will.
Thought you felt the same way, but I see now.
I've been living in a fool's paradise.
Look, I should really get back to...
Uh-huh? Uh-huh?
Is this how you treat someone you love?
Choking them in a men's room?
No.
I don't know.
Maybe.
Oh, shit!
Maybe I was thinking you'd forget all about me
if you wasn't scared I was gonna cut your nuts off.
Maybe behind the facade,
there's just a scared little boy
who didn't never get enough love.
Look, Barry...
I never thought...
Oh, just leave me alone.
Go to him.
Barry.
Pisces.
Get him!
Kick his ass. Let's go!
Stop!
Did he touch you, boss? We'll gut him, right here.
Yes, he touched me.
Sorry. That was me. Keep going.
But not like that.
I'm giving him a pass this time.
What are you ladies up to?
You, Lyshitski, in the hole!
Are you kidding me? I didn't even do anything.
They're over there. I'm over here.
Don't you have eyes?
In the hole!
The system is one shifty prick.
You dodge right, it shifts left.
You think you're on top of it, suddenly you're underneath it.
The ass end of the punch-line.
During my retreat, Nelson had become king of the crapper,
and nobody seemed to flinch.
Just the opposite.
They're eating up his fancy-ass rich-boy act
like he was Ben & Jerry's Heroin Chunk.
So at exactly the appointed minute
when old LaRoche's back is turned,
all the boys shoved their books onto the floor.
Old LaRoche almost had a heart attack.
He didn't know what hit him.
Can't wait to see your grand premiere, baby.
From the tippety, cocksuckers!
Five, six, seven, eight...
Go, John. Go, John.
Phillips head.
Hey, John. Hey.
Didn't see you there.
It's good to see you. Yeah.
You know, I've been meaning to talk to you about something.
What's that? Remember when I first got in here?
I had the balls of a soufflé, I'll be honest with you.
But you changed that, John, you really did. Did I?
Yeah.
I owe everything that I am today to you, John. I really do.
I mean, you gave me my self-esteem back.
I've got the love of a man. Wow, good!
All the things that you could want.
I found myself and I just feel like I really wanna
give you something, John, I do. Perfect! Yeah.
Can I get you some cigarettes? No. I'm good.
What about porn? Cigarettes and porn? No. I'm good.
John, you're the greatest.
I wanna say, from the bottom of my heart... Yeah?
Thank you. Okay.
Hey, have some tea. Hey, thanks.
Made it for you. Okay.
All right, have fun.
Come on!
How did this happen?
A few months ago, I had his balls in a vise.
Now with his parole hearing just around the bend,
it looks like he might be taking his balls and going home.
Hold still. You got to look good for court.
There you go.
You wanna go out tonight?
Me and some of the guys were thinking about
going down to the laundry room,
drinking some toilet wine,
and beating up some of the new guys.
Or we could just stay in and drink toilet wine here.
We never go out anymore.
Well, I've got to hand it to you, buddy.
You're a bigger man than I thought you were.
They beat you up,
they robbed you of your dignity,
they pissed in your food,
but they didn't break you.
And with the revolving-door policy of today's prison system,
you're probably gonna get paroled tomorrow.
They pissed in my food?
What difference does it make?
You're getting out tomorrow and I'm proud of you.
Really? Really.
In fact, I snuck you in a going-away present.
Good luck at your hearing. I'll see you in 1-to-3.
Thank you, John. Okay.
Couldn't have made it in here without your help.
Why is it already opened?
I opened it for you. What for?
'Cause I'm a great guy
and I know you had a real tough day.
You don't trust me?
After all we've been through?
One friend can't give another friend a soda
without that friend thinking
the second friend put a roofie in it?
Wow. Well, that hurts, pal.
That hurts.
I've been looking out for you for almost a year now,
and then I bust my nuts getting you this goddamn fruity soda
and you think I'm up to something?
Well, screw you, pal.
I thought we were friends.
I'm sorry, John.
God, this place has really done a number on me.
It has.
We are friends.
In fact, you might be the best friend I've ever had.
That's it. Get it all. Go for it.
The taste of freedom.
Oh, John, what would this world be like without...
All right, maestro, come on, let's get him out of here.
We got to put his new face on.
Wake up, Biederman. Parole board's waiting.
Let's go.
So, Mr. Biederman,
do you feel you're ready to re-enter society?
Absolutely.
Prison's made me a new man.
When I get out of here,
I intend to stand up for what I know is right.
When the parole board gets through with der Führer,
two things are going to happen.
One, they're gonna file his early release form
right in between Charles Manson and the Unabomber's.
And two, Nelson's going to be pissed as hell at me.
Why'd you do it, John?
Amigo, I did it for your own good.
Now hear me out on this one, all right?
Listen, you got to sandbag your first parole hearing, because...
Okay, you want to know why? I knew your dad.
What? Yeah. The judge.
The man who made me who I am today.
The same man who's going to kill you right now.
What would you call that?
I'd call that pretty crazy, isn't it?
No! It's ironic!
The word you want is "ironic"!
All right, cut the shit! Get up, you mothers. Get up, get up now!
Get him up against the wall! Go, go, go!
Get up! Get up!
You two pussies gonna have a cage match
and I don't even get an invitation?
Wow, that's selfish.
That's selfish.
'Cause goddamn it, I want a front-row seat to that catfight.
You two want to kill each other? Great, stupendous.
Save everybody else around here the hassle. But this is my prison.
I schedule the extra-curricular activities.
And if you two are going to fight,
I need some time to get some action going.
So, how's...
How's Friday sound, huh? Friday good? Say, rec yard?
Fight to the death?
Does that work for you two dickheads?
Sounds like a yes to me.
Sounds like a yes.
Wait.
What do I win if I win?
If you lose, you die. If you win, you die.
The difference is I kill the winner. It'll be quick.
In one year, I've proven that the machine
can warp a law-abiding, spineless sack of shit like Biederman
into a totally violent, psychopathic and lethal sack of shit.
The only flaw in my plan was now I'm locked in a cage with him.
Friday, the yard. John versus Nelson. Fight to the death.
Yeah, fight's gonna takes place on the cistern.
Uh-huh.
That's awesome. Hey, how much does brain damage pay?
Brain damage? I don't know.
You gotta ask Shanahan. He's taking the bets.
I'll put two cartons on Richie Rich taking Lyshitski down.
And this, too, fool.
Brain damage, three to two, ear bit off, even money,
ear cut off, seven to five.
Damn, you can cover all that action?
Sure.
Only took me a second to get the cash.
Second mortgage.
Biederman, you got a visitor!
You're really getting liberal with the Taser.
Congratulations, Barry. I'm glad they let you out.
Parole board say I seem like a new man.
I told them it was all because of you.
Baby,
you the Ashford to my Simpson.
The Peaches to my Herb.
The Shields to my Yarnell.
Barry, you should be happy. Barry, you're free.
You know I can't be happy without you, baby.
I was just thinking about going postal over at the Popeye's Chicken
so I can get locked back up in here with my sweet little Pisces.
I got to get you out.
That's very kind of you, Barry,
but you've got to listen to me.
The only way that I'm getting out of here is in a body bag.
It had better be a body bag for two, goddamn it,
'cause I wanna be sewn right in there with your ass.
That's very sweet, Barry.
I wish there were something I could do for you.
You're the closest thing to family I've ever had.
Family...
Actually, Barry, there is something I can do for you.
Damn it.
Damn it!
Mr. Hinkley, you have a telephone call on line one
and there's a gentleman here to see you.
He doesn't have an appointment.
Well, tell him to wait. Hello.
Hello, Duane.
Nelson, is that you? You allowed to make phone calls now?
Only to my lawyer. I want out. Now.
I'm sorry, sir.
There's nothing we can do.
Our hands are tied.
Well, in that case, I'll just have to turn control
of the Foundation over to my son
and, in accordance with the Foundation's charter,
he'll be the one running things for me until I'm out.
I'm sorry, did you say your son?
Oh, I adopted a young man I met in prison. He's out now.
Everything's nice and legal, Duane.
I think you'll enjoy working for him.
He's a real sweetheart.
What the hell are you doing in my office, biatch?
Mr. Shanahan. Sir.
If you have knowledge of anything untoward
happening amongst the inmate population,
I will not hesitate to put your ass in a grinder!
I'm just tugging your nuts.
Oh.
Give me 50 bucks on that preppy asshole.
Oh, Warden, that is my sense of humor right there, Warden.
All right! You both know the rules!
Whoever dies first loses!
Nelson! Nelson! Nelson! Nelson!
- Get your ass up! - Get him!
Get him, man!
Laotian-style. Yeah?
I like Cambodian rules.
Wow, that is so cool.
I saw a dress made out of credit cards
in Vanity Fair a couple of years ago.
That's what gave me the idea.
I like it. I got one for you.
What is that? Industrial disinfectant.
They got a shit load in the workroom.
See you in hell, Lyshitski!
You bet, bud.
Don't do it, John.
I won't if you won't.
You know, you taught me a lot of things, John.
The most important thing you taught me,
never trust anybody.
All right, ladies, we're on lockdown!
Dead.
All right, get them out of here before they start stinking.
Here's the rest of the necessary paperwork.
As Mr. Biederman's only heir,
you're entitled to the entire trust.
Well, money can't fix a broken heart.
Okay. Well, it's $8 million.
Well, I guess that will take out a little of the sting.
The only way that I'm getting out of here is in a body bag.
Pigeon saliva mixed with bat guano, and tar as an emulsifier.
It won't kill you, my friend,
but it will put you in a stupor.
More of a coma, really. Up to three days.
Trust me, that'll do the trick.
What took you so long?
Hey, come on. Give me a break, baby.
I had to wait for all those white people to leave.
All right.
Let's go. Hey, wait a minute now. Deal's a deal.
If you lose, you die. If you win, you die.
The difference is I kill the winner. It'll be quick.
We're fucked. We got to work together.
Okay, but don't fuck me on this one.
Yeah. Trust me, that'll do the trick.
Thanks, amigo.
Well, hold on, now, baby duck,
there is such a thing as karma.
We don't want to get on the wrong side of that.
We got the rest of our lives to live.
I don't think so.
Hey, wait a minute, now.
If it wasn't for this asshole, we would've never met.
Oh, thank God.
I got to drop a deuce like no one's business.
All right, so that's it, John.
We're even. All right?
Yeah.
Let's go, Barry.
You know, there aren't a shit load of prison stories
you'd wanna tell your grandkids,
but this one definitely falls into that category.
Hey, you think I could grab a ride from you guys?
Can you believe this guy?
Well, Barry and I
are big fans of Wine Aficionado magazine
and I have to confess that we are very eager to hear your opinion.
Be careful for what you wish for, gentlemen.
That first sniff unlocks the door.
Oh, and that second sniff invites you in, sits you down,
and gives you a foot massage.
Watch yourself.
What is it that I detect?
A trace of ammonia or some other sort of disinfectant?
No, it's ammonia.
I see. Well, then I'm done with it.
You haven't even tasted it yet. Precisely.
Well, at least let us introduce you
to our head vintner. He came up with...
Gentlemen, I don't need to taste your wine nor meet your head vintner
to confidently proclaim
that this wine is a piece of shit...
A little piece of heaven?
Ken Kennedy, head vintner.
See, we're a family here
and our grapes are a part of that family.
And they know that we'd do anything for them.
For instance, if some outsider,
say, some shit-eating fruit fly were to come in here
and mess with them in any way whatsoever,
we, and by "we" I mean
me and my brothers over there,
would stop at nothing to protect them,
and they know that.
So that is why I think
you're gonna score Baby Duck wine 100 out of 100
on your next review.
Because you can taste the love in every sip.
Okay?
Yes, I...
Of course. 100 it is.
- Do you hear that? - Drink up, bitches.
Goddamn, is that sweet.
Come on!
Come on, John.
John, isn't this great?
Shake that body for me, Johnny.
Come on, Lyshitski.