Fargo

Previously on Fargo...

You need me.

I ain't just muscle.

- The doctor's dead. - Say his name again!

- Boss! - Say his name again!

- Enough! - Say his name!

This is Happy's cousin!

Hey! We're gonna need Happy

if we're gonna win, man!

- Dear dr. Harvard... - Mmm.

...I am writing to inform you

of the actions of one of your nurses.

Attempted murder,

the authorities think.

Dead patients,

misappropriated personal items,

stolen medication.

No.

I suppose you have to ask yourself...

Is this the kind of nurse you trust

around patients in your fine establishment?

Your business is mine now.

You'll sign over the deed this afternoon.

Satchel is dead.

Boss.

If you can't run,

just do like we practiced.

And remember, if I don't come back,

I'm dead or in jail.

Hey.

Salute, huh?

Salute!

Police! Dinner's over.

Come on. Hey, hey, hey.

All right, all right. Let's go.

He's gonna try and get your goat.

Whatever brings him to yes.

You just remind that boy who bailed out his papa.

Hey, hey, hey. Hey, hey, hey, hey.

How long I been doing your hair?

I ever cut you?

He's gonna try to take over.

Maybe.

But he's a country boy.

Why's he want a big-city headache?

Power.

First off,

what happened with your cousin Leon,

that deserves a conversation.

Meant to care for him,

show him the ropes.

Yeah, but...

How many strikes is a strikeout?

This kid can't tie his shoe.

Should've called.

My cousin, my problem.

You're right.

No excuse.

Losin' this war, is you?

You're always losing,

till you win.

That's why it's called an underdog.

Where I'm from...

...We mind our forefathers.

Take stock in their wisdom.

Like a rock knows the river.

And we think your head's getting too high.

Who thinks?

Fathers, grandfathers.

Sharecroppers.

Men born to bondage...

Who escaped the chain gang and the hangman's noose.

Decades that tell us

the only thing worse than livin' in darkness

is steppin' into the light.

So, what,

born on the bottom,

die on the bottom?

You get your picture in the paper,

you think it's just a picture of you?

We all in there,

crowded together.

Cops decide to bust a head, they don't care which head,

long as the color's right.

We need your help, Happy.

The family.

He ain't my family.

My mama and yours,

like sisters,

which means his kids are your family.

His wife is your family.

That makes him family.

I got a cousin on death row.

You want me to do what?

Sit in the chair with him when the switch get throwed?

I need leverage.

Short-term.

Just some muscle from the country to puff me up.

Show people I'm here to stay.

That's the Cosa Nostra, boy.

This ain't no Podunk thuggery.

You think you gonna, what,

drive 'em out of town?

Don't need 'em gone,

just in their place.

There's pressure from New York.

None of us can afford a war much longer.

You got all the slaughterhouse boys on your side.

Texas cousins.

Smugglin' from Oklahoma.

Shit.

You make me sound like a big deal.

Maybe you should be helping me.

I told you this was a mistake.

Lionel Halloway,

stop messin' around.

You want to talk about all boats risin',

that goes both ways.

It don't matter if you think we should be in this war...

We're in it.

They killed my son.

Ten years old.

What did he ever do to anyone?

And they killed him.

And now they want to snuff us out.

Us.

'cause after they string me up,

they comin' after you.

Two weeks.

We put our strength behind you,

let it be known.

City hall and on the streets.

But you got to make things right with my cousin.

How much?

Tell your mama I miss her greens.

Two weeks.

It'll be enough.

But we got to end this quick.

If I kill the brothers,

new york's just gonna send two more.

Don't care about them.

I want justice for my boy.

And then we make a deal.

Congratulations.

You're the flavor of the month.

Mayor called, saw your picture in the paper.

Said he liked the cut of your jib.

Just trying to keep the streets safe, captain.

Uh-huh.

You watching your back?

For what?

You bite the hand that feeds you,

you're gonna feel the burn.

Excuse me.

Weff.

I wrote your name on a bulle.

Want to meet up so I can give it to you, personal-like?

I'm sorry.

It's against police policy to accept gifts

from the chain gang.

Which is ironical,

since I can give you all the bullets I want.

I miss you, kid.

When are you coming home?

I'm home now.

You think I don't got records of every dollar you took from me?

Maybe I send 'em to city hall, see what the mayor thinks

of his hero cop then.

Kid?

Son of a bitch.

- Twitchy piece of shit! - Hey.

One, two, three, four, five!

What's this?

You going steady now?

Boss...

We need to put the squeeze on this cop.

Hit him where it hurts, turn the city back to our side.

Boss, we got word from new york.

They want this thing wrapped up.

It's too...

Oh, I'm sorry. Is our fighting

for our lives keeping people up at night?!

Hey, J. Hey. Come here.

Yeah?

You make it personal.

Can't be personal.

Come on.

We need another Mulignan.

- Yeah. - Someone waiting in the wings,

thinks they can run things.

Somebody weak, thinks they're strong.