Boardwalk Empire

Arriving passengers!

Please have your passport or naturalization papers handy.

Ladies and gentlemen...

- Passport? -...welcome to Belfast.

And you?

Good to be home, mate.

Purpose of your visit, Mr. Thompson?

To bury my father in the land of his birth.

Repatriation document and death certificate.

Accident, was it?

Natural causes.

Your hand.

Got caught in the wrong cookie jar.

They have cookie jars here, don't they?

Welcome to the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland.

God save His Majesty George V.

Passport.

Thank you, ma'am.

Mr. Thompson arrived safely.

It's almost miraculous, isn't it?

Meg your pardon?

He was standing right here and then six days later...

They're called steamships, Katy.

Beg pardon, ma'am, but Emily refuses to get out of bed.

- Did you draw the bath? - Yes, ma'am.

Get Teddy started, please.

You can't be Sleeping Beauty with your eyes open.

I can't move.

I'm afraid you must. All the fair princes are out of doors today.

Are you still not feeling well?

I can't move my legs.

- Can you feel that? - I don't know.

Wiggle your toes, sweetheart.

- Emily, wiggle your toes! - I am.

Lilian! Katy!

- Katy! - Ma'am.

Call Dr. Surran. Have him come straightaway.

What are you staring at? Go!

- Mommy. - It's nothing, cushla.

- Mama. - It's nothing now.

- It's nothing at all. - Mama.

Jimmy Darmody,

George Remus.

How do you do, sir?

How are you?

- You always meet out of your home? - For now.

I'm looking for an office.

Remus enjoys a trip to the shore.

I understand you have government-bonded whiskey to sell.

- You speak for the group? - In Atlantic City he does.

Then, yes.

Strictly for medicinal purposes.

It turns out we've got a lot of sick people in this town.

Practically an epidemic.

Remus has permits that allow him to sell this alcohol

to legitimate drug companies only.

However, once the alcohol is sold to a sanctioned buyer,

what happens when it's on the truck is not Remus' responsibility.

So how might we learn where to find Remus' trucks?

That'll cost you.

The five of us are willing to kick in 60 grand apiece.

To start.

300 grand for 5,000 cases?

But it's gotta be the bona fide.

Remus needs the money upfront.

And this weekend's on you, correct?

Yeah. You're an honored guest. Whatever you like.

- You'll get word from my associate. - All right.

Remus is finished.

Just give us a minute.

300 big ones' worth of out-of-the-crate liquor.

We do things right, it'll be worth 3 million.

So we don't do things wrong. (LAUGHS)

At the risk of being a fly in the ointment.

Manny Horvitz in Philly,

still cafone, is still noodging us for his money.

- Yeah, fuck him already. - Or pay him what you owe.

You could cut him in as a partner.

And what's second prize for being an asshole?

- I'll take care of it. He's no milksop.

I said I'd take care of it.

You're the Grand Poobah.

Then it's settled. Jersey City.

Dempsey? Me, too.

Yeah? We got the good seats.

He'll plow afield with that Frenchy. Blood all over the canvas.

Why don't you come along? We booked a suite at the Fairmont.

- Two nights in Jersey City? - A.R.'s taking a lot of side action.

- I'm gonna listen on the wireless. - What the hell for?

Darmody wants to see what all the fuss is about.

Might as well read a book.

You're an American.

Yes.

May I ask you a question?

Where do you put Carpentier's prospects?

Dempsey's got 13 pounds on him.

Ah, but the Frenchman, he's a puncher. Knocked out Britain's best in 74 seconds.

Beckett? He's a bum.

There's no call now to be casting aspersions.

Mr. Thompson.

Mr. McGarrigle. Thanks for coming here.

I understand misfortune's caught up with you.

Doesn't it with everyone?

A long way to come to bury the dead.

Bleeding Jesus!

Thompson submachine guns.

One of these can finish off an entire platoon in the time it takes to fry an egg.

My donation to the rebellion.

How many do you have there?

A dozen, plus a drum magazine for each.

Don't say you don't need them.

A hundred might make a difference.

There are 3,000 sitting in the cellar of the Atlantic City armory.

And what do you want for them, Mr. Thompson?

Irish whiskey, all I can get.

And that's the kind of man you bring me?

I was good enough for you in Atlantic City.

- I'll present it to the leadership. - I thought you wanted weapons.

It's naught but truth, Mr. McGarrigle.

- Are you interested or not? - It'll have to be discussed.

Then bring me to the man in charge.

We'll tend to our affairs in our own way, if it's all the same to you.

You'll be sent word.

What the fuck was that about?

He's a flinty old geezer, make no mistake.

Close it up.

Grant this mercy, O Lord,

we beseech thee, to thy servant departed,

that he may not receive in punishment the requital of his deeds

who in desire did keep thy will,

and as the true faith here united him to the company of the faithful,

so may thy mercy unite him above

to the choirs of angels,

through Jesus Christ, our Lord.

- Amen. Amen.

Eternal rest grant unto him, 0 Lord.

And let perpetual light shine upon him.

- May he rest in peace. - Amen.

May his soul, through the mercy of God, rest in peace.

- Amen. - Amen.

See how I'm moving your foot?

Now you do it.

Are you trying?

Very good, Emily.

Does Teddy also sleep in this room?

Yes.

Take him out. Quickly.

I'll need to examine him, too.

- What's the diagnosis? - Do as I say.

Lilian, take Teddy downstairs.

No! Take him out of the house.

- Where? - It doesn't matter. The porch.

Now.

It's polio, isn't it?

There's no point in speculating.

Is that meant to soothe me?

She has all the symptoms.

We'll need to quarantine her at the children's hospital immediately.

Mrs. Schroeder?

I can't drive.

You'll have to take us, please.

Easy with those plates.

Boy, I'm talking to you.

I have a name.

And I don't have to remember it. Now do as you're told.

Lunch, 10 minutes!

Thanks.

I ever bite you, friend?

Huh?

- No. - Then why are you feeding me dog food?

-(MEN LAUGHING) - I serve what they tell me to serve.

I seen room-service leftovers come back all day,

chicken, mashed potatoes, chocolate pudding.

- Why don't you serve that? - Now you been here near a week, Purnsley.

- You know the rules. - I surely do.

Rules say we ain't good enough to eat what some cracker throw in the trash.

Taste good to me.

Look at you.

Uncle Toms, gobble up this slop and say "Thank you, sir, for the privilege."

- Be thankful you've got a job, friend. Right.

Twelve hours a day? Six days a week?

I been in jails don't work you this hard.

- He's right about that. And they feed you better, too.

I bet he right about that, too.

- You boys have a problem? - No, sir.

Just discussing what passes for food around here.

- Your name is Purnsley. - That's right, chief.

Mr. Purnsley, Lord Purnsley,

Your Great Celestial Majesty,

one more word out of you and you're fired.

Now finish your lunch, or don't, and get back to work, all of you.

You heard the man.

Eat it up.

Iodine is prepared, Doctor.

Very good. Now just hold my hand.

You're going to feel something a little bit cold.

It's nothing. They're just preparing you.

- Is he going to give her an injection? - Syringe is set.

She can't stand needles.

It's called a spinal tap.