You’re playing that spic music loud in your cell.
How many times I got to warn you?
I’m listening on headphones, Virgil.
Why don’t you just go to hell?
I’m gonna write another grievance report on you.
Oh, that’s right. You’re a famous author now.
I seen you on the tube.
Got your liberal lawyers up from New York City.
You’re a goddamn hernia in the prison system.
But me? I’m just a rube. You think the warden’ll support you? You’re crazy.
I got a right to see the warden.
Oh, si. You got rights.
"I sleep with one eye open
Shadows cross my bed.
I’m asking for protection.
My blood is on your head."
There’s a fucking contradiction in the writing that you do.
You treat your crime as fiction when the opposite is true.
Now Sal, you'd better listen.
The department of correction is considering your parole.
You got five months left in this prison
If you don’t lose control.
Take him back to his cell.
I got a Winchester 243.
I like that gun for deer.
Nobody’s asking, but if it comes down to me
I’ll use that rifle right here.
I’m telling you straight, Virgil
This harassment goes on.
You'd better find another brownskin boy to kill
Cause I won’t wait for my parole and I’ll be gone.
You understand that?
Oh, I understand, yeah. Shall I send for your limo, seÃ±or?