Tulsa King

I know you.

Not like you're going to.

I got the call from Quiet Ray. It's time.

What you're doing now out in Tulsa.

It's time to share.

An old girlfriend of mine...

her and her father are having

a problem with their distillery.

It's being strong-armed by a guy named Dunmire.

That son of a bitch is the tyrant of Tulsa.

Let me handle him.

One of your fucking idiots

pulled some weird shit

with my man in the fucking weed shop,

put a gun in his face.

Because your man shot his best friend.

You get what you were owed?

That's not the point.

Actually, it is.

But when I shook Dunmire's hand,

I tied my own.

When I partner with someone,

their enemy is my enemy.

So, what do you say?

Dunmire will react.

- Oh! No! Wait. - Get in there!

It's beyond a bad way to go out.

You think this punk

had something to do with this, alone?

What the fuck was his name?

Cole?

Yeah. Cole.

I don't know.

But I do know that boy don't take a piss

without his daddy telling him whose lawn.

Man, I've made some threats in my life,

like "I'll burn your house down with you in it,"

but it was just idle bullshit.

This is sick.

Dixie Mafia boys don't fuck around.

Like we do?

Excuse me.

Pardon me. Excuse me.

Excuse me. Pardon me.

- Hey, sorry I'm late. - Good...

- What the hell is that? - Eh...

- That's a horseshoe. - I know it's a horseshoe.

He wasn't a fucking jockey, you idiot.

They're running the Georgia Classic.

This is all they had.

A-And listen, uh, not to change the subject,

but, uh, we got a problem.

Armand's gone on a fucking tear,

doing amends with that AA bullshit.

And that little backstabbing weasel talking amends

is him talking about shit he shouldn't.

And I'm telling you, if New York hears about the distillery...

Enough with the New York. Where's Armand now?

Radio silence. Little shit's gone off the grid.

Well, you can't have him stringing along.

- You got to pick him up. - Of course.

What were you thinking? Seriously?

Why don't you take this outside and bury it?

It's embarrassing, man.

It could've been pink.

You don't feel foolish?

A little bit.

Margaret.

You look beautiful.

And of course, you do, too, Joanne.

Yeah. Yep, yep.

There's a big crowd here. I didn't expect that.

Mm, well, Montague was popular.

Family goes way back. Generations.

Shall we pay our respects?

- What? - It's just that ever since

I saw my brother in the box, it's hard for me to get close.

Maybe it's subconscious.

I get it.

Shit. Dunmire.

The balls on this guy.

Tough way to go out.

It hurts just to burn your finger.

Imagine your whole body.

Manfredi, right?

You know me?

Yes, I know who you are.

And I concur. It is a genuine tragedy.

I heard you and their family were pretty tight.

Close.

That's not your concern.

No, but you are.

I'm not the type of man that you want to fuck with.

We have that in common.

And if you think you're gonna do to me

what you did to your friend over there,

it's gonna be really

fucking difficult.

That's slanderous talk, Dwight.

Unless it isn't.

Now, what's stopping me

from shutting that distillery down again?

So, I'm gonna make you an offer,

take it off your hands.

- Not interested. - I'll give you three times

what you paid that dead man.

Three times?

Still... not interested.

This business requires sound judgement.

Not the foul hand of a bottom-feeder.

You ain't no distiller, Manfredi.

What are you doing here?

Get out of here. Leave!

I know it was you, you bastard!

I know you don't mean that, darling.

Hey.

Don't fucking touch her.

That'll cost you, cowboy.

Let's go.

Oh. You want me to do that?

I know how to do this.

- Oh, yeah? All right. Okay. - Yeah.

Cigar at eight o'clock in the morning?

Hey.

Did you get the goods on Dunmire?

Yeah, I was up all night.

I found the title for the distillery.

- Yeah? And the P&Ls? - Yeah.

This guy hasn't made a profit for ten years.

What about the back stock?

Maybe 100 grand of the 12-year.

Which they couldn't sell, either, you know?

'Cause there's no distributor.

Did you happen to know it's illegal

for a distiller to sell direct?

- Yeah, I did know. - No, you didn't.

- Yeah, I fucking knew. - No, you didn't, Joanne.

Come on. Alway... "I always know everything."

You don't know everything.

Well, anyway, we're stuck with

all these cases that we can't put on the shelves,

plus, a lot of new enemies, so what's going on?

Maybe we take the money that Dunmire offered.

- Mm. - and we build

our own distillery.

Mm-mmm. No, there's no way. No way.

I don't have enough time. I'm too ancient.

Plus, this guy offered me triple for what I paid

after I insulted the hell out of him,

so it tells me it's got to be worth more.

That's what it tells me. What do you think?

Tells me we should've gone into the funeral parlor business.

- Funny. - Coffee?

Why not? Take a shot at it.

That poor man.

This is tragic.

Yeah. Mitch, who's the guy in the hat?

Insurance adjuster.

- Mm. - Said a log

rolled out of the fire, caught the rug.

- Mm-hmm. - Human error.

Yeah, give me a break.

Well?

They're not gonna pay.

Dunmire's got the whole county in his pocket.

Cops, fire inspector, that asshole,

the goddamn governor. Pathetic.

Yeah, but he couldn't buy your father.

Look at the results.

Cleo, can I ask you to, like,

dig down, memory-wise?

Dunmire... I don't think he cared about buying the distillery,

but he was willing to pay three times the amount,

which is food for thought.

I'm curious...

I'm just asking...

do you know something that we don't know?

Damn.

Whoa.

These ain't bodies.

My dad's 50-year.

Came of age this spring.

50-year-old bourbon made by a master distiller?

It doesn't get any rarer

- than this. - Nope.

My father made this with his father and grandfather,

and this vintage was the best of the best.

Bit of a legend in these parts.

Dunmire suspected it existed,

just didn't know where it was stashed.

That's planning ahead.

I only just found out about it when my dad's lawyer

sent me his will.

You know, a 50-year-old bourbon

can go for five grand a bottle.

What do you say you have in here, a hundred barrels?

- Two hundred. - Two hundred?

And there's a 150 bottles per barrel, so that's...

- Big money. - $150 million, to be exact.

Holy shit.