In Plain Sight

Since 1970,

the federal witness protection program

has relocated thousands of witnesses--

some criminal, some not--

to neighborhoods all across the country.

Every one of those individuals

shares a unique attribute, distinguishing them

from the rest of the general population,

and that is: Somebody wants them dead.

You put on sun block?

I'll put it on when we get to the beach.

No, no, you gotta put it on a half hour before.

Babe. All right.

I'll put the sunscreen on.

Good.

You two are making me carsick.

Oh, yeah?

I can't wait till you have kids and they think

you're a ridiculous old fool.

Sorry to run your fun, but I'm not having kids.

Bite your tongue, you.

You're giving me grandbabies.

Or else...

Why are we stopping?

Well, petey's sick,

and I promised Dominic i'd, uh,

I'd drop off some stuff for him.

All ri--

try and hurry, because if not,

we don't get a good spot, frank.

Don't worry, I'll just be a minute.

Not even.

Tell petey I hope he feels better.

Will do.

And you, don't screw with me.

You're gonna give me grandchildren.

You hear me? Yes, mom.

That's right.

Oh, my god.

How does that fat bastard get up and down

those stairs every day?

Who is it?

It's captain kangaroo.

Frankie, is that you?

Yeah, yeah, it's Frankie.

Come on, come on. I'm in a hurry, petey.

Yo, Frankie.

Hey, petey.

I got a delivery for you from Dominic.

Oh, yeah?

Yeah.

Petey?

Where are you?

Are you dead?

Oh, no.

Oh...

* I can't see me

* lovin' nobody but you

* for all my life

I have no idea how that happened.

* the skies will be blue

all right, get back. Let's go.

God, it's so beyond retarded.

First of all,

we don't say "retarded" anymore.

Don't even think about parking there.

U.S. marshals.

Cars better be here when we get back.

And second,

it's not retarded-- it's marketing.

Then it's retarded marketing.

Look, imagery and metaphor have been used--

oh, thank god.

Hey, what's up?

It seems your sister would prefer

someone else to pick her up.

What? Put her on.

Mary would like a word.

Hey.

Don't "hey" me.

What the hell do you think you're doing?

Nothing, but there's no way in hell

I'm taking a ride from some

rico suave wannabe

I've never even seen before.

Why can't you pick me up?

Because I'm working...

All the way on the other side of town.

But I'm your sister.

Hey, you know what-- you can either

accept my friend's generous offer or start walking.

Fine, I'll take the ride.

You do that.

Here.

Problems?

Brandi got in this morning.

For my surprise party, no doubt.

My condolences.

Now, as I was saying--

imagery and metaphor have been used

to sell products forever.

Please, Jesus, take me now.

Take the Ford mustang, for instance.

Named for a powerful and agile animal,

qualities we also seek in an automobile.

It's called "transference."

Yeah, okay. What about my probe?

Exactly what image is that supposed to transfer?

'Cause all I'm getting is paper dress,

metal stirrups, and legs akimbo.

Exactly what was the thought process

behind that marketing coup?

"Say, Bob,

"what's a metaphor for an invasive,

"somewhat humiliating procedure?

"'Cause we really need something

to compete with the Chevy speculum."

Ugh, why am I eating this crap?

You gonna be like this all day?

What?

Like-- You know.

Guess it depends how long it's gonna be my birthday.

All day.

There you go.

Here we go.

It's a common misconception

that the membership in the fraternity of goodfellas

is a prerequisite for admission

into the federal witness protection program.

God, if only that were true.

Many witnesses are everyday folk who,

through no criminal enterprise of their own,

have come to possess damning info

about some very dangerous people.

These unlucky losers are trouble magnets

and should be avoided whenever possible.

Thanks.

Uh-huh.

Which, in my line of work,

is almost never.

A ticket? Are you kidding me?

Car's still there, ain't it?

Ass-wipe.

It's all right.

We'll take care of you. You're safe.

So this is how we're transporting witnesses now?

It's a metaphor.

Oh, yeah? For what, crap?

Let's go.

Thank you. You're welcome.

So welcome to Albuquerque. Is this your first time?

Da. Uh, yes.

How long you been in the states?

Three years in New York.

Well, this is a far cry from Manhattan.

And a universe from Moscow.

I am from Kiev.

You speak Russian.

A little.

I learned it in the '80s

when you guys were still commies.

In Ukraine, we speak Ukrainian.

Uh...

Shut up.

Hi, Stan.

Hi, Mary. It's Stan.

I know it's you, Stan.

That's why I said, "hi, Stan."

Oh, right.

So did you pick up the witness?

Yeah, we're on the way to the apartment now.

Listen, I just got a call

from Albuquerque P.D. and, uh--

oh, boy.

And "oh, boy" what, Stan?

I know that tone. Something happened.

Yeah, Frankie santoro's kid

might have been shot last night.

What? Where? Is he dead?

I said "might."

All right, might.

They found a body on one of those

development sites out the pan am freeway.

I'm on my way.

That's one choice, but bringing a witness

to the murder site of another witness--

that violates at least six WITSEC codes of conduct.

Stan? I know what you're doing.

You're holding the phone out the window.

What's that? I can't hear you.

You're breaking up.

She's holding the phone out the window.

Mary, you listen-- Stan?

I absolutely for--

change of plans.

Frankie santoro's kid may have been hit last night.

Gotta see for myself.

What about...

She's coming with.

Fun.