Gang Related

What?

I keep thinking about Hawaii, right now.

My heart's in Hawaii.

How the hell can your heart be in Hawaii when you've never been there?

You mean there's no place you'd rather be than here?

I'm just saying I don't know how you can think about Hawaii right now.

If I was in Hawaii right now, I wouldn't think about being here.

- See the difference? - No.

I'm not in Hawaii. I'm here, right?

I don't want to be here. I want to be in Hawaii.

But I can't be in Hawaii.

Therefore, I think about it so as not to get depressed about being here.

- But I'm here. - Right.

- I don't want to be here. - Right.

But I can't be anyplace else, 'cause all I see is this shit.

Now, how do you get around that? That's what I'm asking you.

Focus.

"Focus."

It's time.

No more Hawaii. Focus on this.

Yeah?

- Aloha. - Aloha my ass, Divinci.

Left at the corner.

What's up?

Hope you don't mind me checking for weapons.

- Yeah. I do mind. - Yeah.

What the fuck do I want a man's hands on my body for?

Hold it.

Okay, check him.

Check good.

There's a lot of good hiding spots on this body.

- Watch out. That's the loot. - He's got nothin'.

So, what you got?

Not bad at all.

Any more where this came from?

Maybe.

Then maybe we talk again.

Maybe.

Yeah.

Told you there was a lot of good hiding places on this body.

Bet you got a lot of good hiding spots on that body, too.

Come on, man, hurry up!

Let's go! Let's go!

Joe.

Wake up.

Get out of the street before you get run over.

Other way, Joe.

Forget it. I don't think you'd feel it anyway.

- What the fuck? - Keeping some late hours?

Come on, man! What the fuck are my neighbors gonna think?

I apologize. I understand your concerns.

You must also understand that, unlike a bank...

I cannot rely on a late fee as sufficient encouragement to repay one's debts.

Therefore, I am forced to hire the likes of Mr. Cutlass Supreme...

whom, I might add, contributes significantly to my overhead.

I'm the real loser here, and I'm concerned about your sincerity...

in repaying the $27,942 gambling debt...

that is one week past due.

What can you do to reassure me of your good intentions?

I can make your life fucking miserable, that's what I can do.

Look at me.

Do I have a wife and three kids?

Do I have a good job at IBM? Am I a handsome guy?

No, no and no.

I loan money at excessively high interest rates...

to pricks like you who can't control their urge...

to lose big money playing cards. Then I have to stay up all night...

trying to convince them that I have needs, too.

The point of which is, I already have a fucking miserable life...

so don't threaten me, you lousy bag of cat shit.

You fuckin'...

All I'm asking is that you be responsible.

Is that unreasonable?

That's $4,000.

That's all I got.

I'm proportionally reassured.

You purchased yourself an extension.

Another day, another body. Where do you want to start?

- A hit? - Yeah. It looks like it.

Could be gang related.

Happened some time last night. 2:00, 3:00 in the morning.

Got an African-American male.

Looks like he's in his 30s, but even that's a guess.

Half his head is on the upholstery.

- Got any witnesses? - Sure. Hundreds.

Fucking animals!

- Shotgun shells, 12-gauge. - Three shotgun shells, 12-gauge.

Hey, Divinci. Heard you got a gang related, you lucky guy.

- Yeah, one less drugstore on the street. - The world's a safer place.

- Thanks. - No problem.

Brown?

Blond?

Blond like Mel Gibson?

Want to go for a ride?

Why, did you get it?

As of last night, partner, I have enough to make the down.

Picture me under some swaying palms, sipping on a Mai tai.

You got primary on the drug related this morning on 27th?

We're working on it right now.

- Who's your second? - Rodriguez.

- In my office, both of you. - Why?

Now.

Let me finish this.

No, no, no. Come on. Come on!

Detectives Divinci and Rodriguez...

this is Richard Simms. He's with the DEA.

He wants to ask you some questions about your case.

- What's the occasion? - You get an ID on the victim?

- Still waiting on the prints. - Car was registered to...

Anchor Imports. '81 El Dorado, black.

- If you got this, what do you want with us? - The man in the car was Lionel Hudd.

How does he know that? What the hell's going on here, Captain?

Hudd was DEA, undercover.

He was working a case on syndicate distribution of narcotics...

but every dealer we tagged kept getting killed.

We finally got a lead on a girl.

Hudd was a friend of mine, and I'm gonna nail the son of a bitch who killed him.

Look...

we're gonna do everything we can to help you.

- A cop's a cop, right? - That's right.

Shit!

- Fucking dumb fuck. What a dumb fuck! - All right, just calm down.

Why didn't you fucking frisk him?

- Calm down for a second. - You didn't think to fuckin' search him?

Just calm down! You hear me?

- You killed a fucking cop! - Calm the fuck down!

Calm the fuck down! Goddamn son of a bitch!

Get your fucking hands off me, fucker.

You just calm the fuck down! You understand me?

You fucking understand me?

I want you to shut up and fucking listen to me for a second.

They could be watching us right now, you asshole.

Let me go.

Get in the fucking car.

Now look, there's no fucking reason to panic.

No fucking reason to panic? This ain't no fucking reason to panic?

Stop being an idiot. All right?

We're the cops on this case. This is our case.

- We're gonna find the fucking killer. - We are the fucking killers!

Since when does that matter?

All they want is someone to go down for the crime. Right?

Do we care who goes down for the crime? Fuck, no.

As long as someone goes down for the crime.

It's a slot that's gotta be filled.

"Slot to be filled."

Frank, we killed a fucking cop.

- That doesn't bother you? - Of course it bothers me.

What the hell you want me to do? Turn myself in? I'm not gonna do that.

Look, this is a risk we take every goddamn day.

Somebody might pop us, especially undercover like that.

So somebody got popped. He got popped. It happens.

"It happens." He's a fucking cop!

You don't get popped by cops when you're a cop!

I patted him down. He had no badge. He had no gun.

What the fuck was I supposed to do? How was I supposed to fucking know?

You patted him down? You couldn't feel a fucking wire?

No. He had no badge, nothing. I'm telling you, he was a fucking idiot.

But we got to start thinking about us here, man.

The important thing is not to lose control of this case.

Yeah.

Whatever evidence there is, it's got to go through us.

We lay down a trail, we make it nice and logical.

We're the teachers and two and two can add up to five if it's our classroom.

So what are you saying?

- You're saying we stick this to somebody? - Yeah.

Evidence points to wherever the fuck we want it to point.

Too fucking weird.

We can provide so much fucking evidence...

that even the asshole we pick will think he fucking killed him.

- So you got an asshole in mind? - Don't worry.

"Don't worry."

We'll find a killer. There's lots of them out there.

Come on.

What the fuck did I do now?

What the fuck is all this for?

Do we look like fucking track stars to you? We're here to fucking run?

- Yo, man, that ain't my gun. - Never is, is it?

- It ain't my fucking gun. - It's got your fucking prints.

Know somethin'? You know what? Whatever.

Where were you last Friday night?

Friday night?

- Last Friday night? - Come on, am I fucking talking to myself?

Where were you last Friday night?

Whatever the hell I was supposed to have done happened last Friday night?

You better have a good alibi, James, or it's good Ali-bye-bye.

I was in jail all night. Check it out.

Y'all ain't got nothin' on me! So y'all can just let me go right now.

What's up?

Freeze! Police!

Shut the fuck up!

Get down! Get on the fucking ground right now!

Down on the fucking ground!

- Shut the fuck up! - Here, take them!

God damn it! My fucking shoulder!

That's the last motherfucking time I open the goddamn door!

Ain't my gun.

That's funny, it's got your fingerprints on it.

- Fuck! I never seen that gun... - Get the fuck down!

Where were you Friday night?

Fuck you. I wanna talk to a lawyer.