scenes containing all lines spoken by Rawls from his first appearance in Next Stop Valhalla to his final appearance in Exeunt Omnes.
transcripts pulled from Angelfire and SubsLikeScript.
[Cafeteria]
Redding: I heard you got your own little private practice shack. You ready to do a little slinging for me?
White: Slinging? Slinging what? What, you mean like selling drugs? No, no. I can't. I can't. I can't risk that now.
Redding: Ah. See that's not the answer I was looking to hear from you. Now here's how it's going to work. I'm going to give you the stash, and you move it on to my man Reggie and he moves it on over to Unit C, and if you got a problem with that then you going to have a bigger problem with me. So I'm going to ask you one more time. Are you ready to do some slinging with me?
White: Fuck it. Fuck it, fuck it. Fine. Fine.
Redding: Take it. And Omar, if I find out you been using some of that shit there ain't going to be enough left of you to sweep up the floor.
White: Believe me Redding, this time I actually want to stay clean.
Redding: Yeah, well. Miracles do happen.
[Janitors' Closet]
White: [singing] Swing low sweet chariot...Coming for to carry me...Coming...Coming for to carry me home. You Reggie?
Rawls: Who the fuck else you think going to be knocking? Destiny's Child?
White: Yo, that was some rhetorical shit alright?
Rawls: If rhetorical means dumb as fuck you got that right.
White: You ain't too big on the small talk is you, brother?
Rawls: Business is business.
White: Yeah. well, pleasure's better.
Rawls: Later. Fucking rhetorical.
---
[Janitors' Closet]
White: [singing] I want to hold your hand, walk along the sand. Laughing in the sun, always having fun. Whoa, whoa.
Rawls: You sing like shit.
White: I want to hold your hand, walk along the sand. La la la la, I want to hold your hand. Walk along the sand, La la la la la la...
Said: What was Reggie Rawis doing in this room?
White: Reggie? Shit. Big fan man.
Said: He is a major drug dealer in Unit C.
White: Yo, yo man he just gets drawn in and shit.
Said: Omar. Are you selling drugs from this room?
White: No.
---
[Gym]
Rawls: Oh, fuck. There he goes again, going around in circles.
Poet: Hey, yo, Burr, man, you gonna be done soon? We trying to ball.
Rawls: Great, not only ain't he focused on business, he gone deaf, too. I'm telling you, man, that old motherfucker's done. We need young blood to run the tribe. You man.
Poet: I ain't no number 1, yo. I already tried it on, and the shoe does not fit.
Rawls: Then who?
Poet: 'Til we figure that out, bro, we're stuck with old Burr here.
[Redding finally reaches the center of the meditative maze]
Redding: Oh, yes. Yes.
---
[Classroom]
Rawls: I still don't understand why we gave up running the cafeteria.
Redding: We got us some new jobs.
Rawls: Man, kitchen the best detail there is.
Poet: I got the belly to prove it.
Redding: Yeah, well, I found us something better, something that will get us out of the muck and mire.
Kenaniah: Man, we ain't down in no shit.
Redding: Wrong, Kenaniah. We in so much shit you can't even smell it no more.
Poet: So, what's your brainstorm?
Redding: Gonna be telemarketers.
Kenaniah: Tele who?
Redding: I'm serious. Gonna learn you boys some skills, something that'll make you more cash then you're making over there in the kitchen.
Rawls: Not more than slinging tits.
Redding: Ain't gonna be no more slinging.
Rawls: Are you crazy, nigga?
Kenaniah: Yeah, ain't no mother fucking way going-
Poet: Hold up, hold up, hold up, so, what's your angle, Burr?
Redding: There ain't no angle. This is the dawn of a new day, gentlemen. Our charge is to rise up and face it. And rise we shall.
---
Redding: We're in business, gentlemen. Contract got signed today.
Poet: Now, why that put you in such a fine fucking mood? They ain't turning us into working stiffs, man.
Redding: Poet, that attitude is the first thing you gonna get rid of.
Poet: I ain't doing it.
Redding: Funny how you think you got a choice.
Rawls: So, we giving up the tit trade just like that?
Redding: If I am, you are, too. Hey, you don't have to worry about getting on board right away, okay? Just be ready by 9:00 tomorrow morning.
Kenaniah: Come on. Burr, Goddamn, man.
Redding: And you don't have to believe that I'm right because I'm gonna show you how right I am.
Rawls: Whatever, man.
---
Rawls: Mrs. Howard?
Woman on phone: Yes?
Rawls: Good afternoon. I'm calling on behalf of the campaign to re-elect Archibald Lakin to the United States senate. May I have a moment of your time?
Woman on phone: Sure.
Rawls: Thank you.
Kenaniah: Mr. Erickson? Good afternoon. I'm calling on behalf of-- [Erickson hangs up] Mr. Sharif? Good Afternoon- [Sharif hangs up].
Redding: Persevere, Kenaniah, persevere.
Rawls: Senator Lakin's record has been outstanding, especially in regards to education, national security, and anti-crime measures.
---
[Poet's pod]
Poet: It's a good thing we got out now, yo. I'll tell you. Man, that telemarketing, man, that shit short the brain.
Rawls: Yo, no shit.
Poet: Yo, I'll tell you, I've got a plan though. Yo, we're going to work for Arif. McManus and the Sicilians will think we done dealing, right? We lay low for a minute, then we come back double time up underneath the radar without Burr. Know what I mean?
Rawls: Yeah, son.
---
[Bismilla opens the doors and the homeboys try to push their way inside]
Rawls: I want to work here.
Arif: Nasim, close the door.
Bismilla: Hold up for just another minute.
Rawls: What you doing?
Bismilla: Hold up.
Arif: We need to pray, we need to pray.
---
[Book Binding Factory]
Rawls: Fuck, man. All right already. [hits machine] Quit fucking with me!
Yusef: Rawls, take it easy. You have any idea how much this machine costs?
Rawls: I'm doing something wrong.
Yusef: Don't touch it. I'll get Arif.
---
[Hill narrates over flashbacks of Reggie and a friend getting high and beating up a Chinese delivery guy]
Hill: Prisoner #01R394, Reginald Rawls. Convicted January 10, 2001. Aggravated Assault. Sentence: 12 years, up for parole in 4.
[Rawls' pod]
Rawls: First, telemarketing, now bookbinding? Ain't exactly the kind of prison life you hear about on the street.
Redding: All right, game's over. I want you two back with me in Degenhart's company. Poet put you up to this, following him to work for the Muslims. Well, in case you forgot, you answer to me.
Rawls: We do? Kenaniah, we still answer to Mr. Redding, here?
Redding: You two begged like bitches to get a place in my clan. I gave you shelter. I showed you the ropes. And this is the thanks I get.
Rawls: Please. We were your foot soldiers, day and night running tits and shit. Now, you turn around and want us to do work that's just plain fuckin' work? Kiss my ass, old man.
Kenaniah: Preach that shit, Reggie!
Rawls: You know it, nigga. Give me that, give me that.
[Em City laundry room]
Pancamo: So, Redding, you wanted to see me. About what?
Redding: Well, when I told you fellas I was giving up the tit trade, you didn't believe me.
Pancamo: No, we didn't.
Redding: Well, now you can see that my words are righteous. I got involved in this telemarketing business to keep my boys from slinging, but it's not working, and I need your help. If you see Poet, Rawls, or any of the others dealing, I want you to squash them. Squash them hard.
Urbano: You want us to kill your own men?
Redding: Not kill. Demobilize. Weaken them until they have to come back to me.
Pancamo: Looks like you've got yourself a deal.
[Gym]
Rawls: Yo, I am done toting and lifting heavy machinery. We need to get back to slinging drugs.
Poet: I hear ya, Reggie, but the timing ain't right.
Kenaniah: Man, I would love to take that dago down.
Poet: You will, yo, you will. But not yet, though. We got to play this real smooth, real smooth.
White: Hey, guys. You all want to ball?
Poet: Drop dead, Omar.
---
[Bookbinding room]
Poet: Yo, boss man, this be payday.
Arif: Yeah, I--I know.
Poet: Where's my money?
Arif: You're gonna have to wait until the end of next week.
Rawls: What?
Arif: I'm waiting on a check from one of the publishers, and when it clears, I'll have your money for you. Just trust me.
Poet: Trust you? Fuck. Excuse me.
[Em City]
Rawls: I'm telling you, Poet, except for the money I've been stealing, I'm stone cold broke. We can not wait any longer, man. We've got to get back to selling tits.
Poet: I'm way ahead of you, Reggie, way ahead of you. Got a little contact on the outside, my nigga Sky Bar. Shipment coming in today.
Rawls: All right, my dogs.
Poet: All right?
Rawls: A-ha, yes.
Pancamo: Hey, Poet. It's too bad about your friend Sky Bar.
Poet: What about him?
Pancamo: Oh, you didn't hear? He got run over by a Chevy... 37 times.
---
[Poet's pod]
Poet: Hill's book, man, he writes good. Make me a little jealous.
Rawls: You got any tits?
Poet: Nah, I'm all out. Man, I ain't had a taste in so long, I feel like I'm in rehab.
Rawls: Yeah, we ain't got no income. The book binding business went bust, the--the wops block us from slinging.
Poet: Something will come along.
Rawls: You sure?
Poet: I'm like old Billy Clinton, yo. I live in a town called hope.
[Crime Flashback]
Hill: Prisoner #03B563, Stanley Bukowski. Convicted January 16, 2003. Possession and Distribution of Illegal Substances. Sentence: 15 years, up for parole in 7.
[Em City]
Poet: Hey, new guy, got any tits?
Bukowski: No, man, I ain't into the hard stuff.
Rawls: Alright, you got any weed?
Bukowski: There ain't nearly enough weed for the need in this fucking place. But I got a shipment coming in.
Poet: Better watch where you toke, cuz.
Bukowski: No, no, no puffing involved. Only eating. I got a shitload of very green, very kind pot brownies heading this way. Thinking to start a little industry, if you get my drift.
Poet: Huh, well, you see, Burkowski, what you need is partners, or else certain people will find out that you're stepping on their turf. We can make the trouble stay away.
Rawls: This is bullshit. He won't get them through inspection. He don't even know the right hacks.
Bukowski: Yeah, I got that all figured out, all right. The pot is totally I-O-nised. So, it don't reek at all, not even to a mutt's nose. The rest of the recipe, I'm guarding like the coke formula. Suffice to say, the body buzz, oh, is kick ass. You know what? Double fudge, too. With extra thick icing for effect.
Poet: Stanley, you a genius. What's up? Like that? Come on, man.
---
[Rawls's pod]
Kenaniah: Definitely butter in these.
Rawls: Of course there's butter, Kenaniah, it's a brownie. What we're trying to do is figure out Bukowski's secret ingredient.
Poet: Man, we can guess 'till we green. The only answer is get the recipe from Bukowski himself.
Rawls: Yeah, yeah, then we can unload his white ass.
---
[Em City]
Poet: He's dead?
Rawls: I hear his face melted.
Poet: There go our latest enterprise.
Kenaniah: Man, what do you mean? We got Bukowski to spill the secret recipe, right?
Poet: Man, I called in the specifics to my cousin Malcolm, told him to mix up a batch. He said the stuff is shit.
Rawls: Wait, wait, wait, wait, Bukowski lied to us?
Poet: Uh-huh.
Rawls: Fuck, man, you can't trust anybody these days.
Kenaniah: Man, I say it's the wops' fault. Let's just go bust some heads, man.
Poet: Wait, wait, wait, wait. Yo, I got a plan, and it all starts with Burr.
[Shower room]
Poet: Hey, Burr. Yo, Burr, we--we want back in. Whatever you want, telemarketing, whichever.
Redding: For starters, say that again. This time, on your knees.
Poet: You serious?
Redding: Bend them!
Poet: Bend 'em, man, get down, man. Yo, we--we--
Redding: Shut the fuck up. I heard you the first time. Be there tomorrow morning, ready to work them phones.
Poet: Come on, man. Just come on.
[Telemarketing office]
Degenhart: See, Burr, I knew you'd fill these desks again.
Redding: Yeah, well, I finally convinced my boys to follow the straight and narrow.
Rawls: Okay, we're here. Now you gonna tell me your big plan?
Poet: Credit cards. Every time we take a order, we steal the credit card numbers. My cousin, Malcolm, he can sell the list for major dough.
Rawls: Cyber-slinging. I love it.
Poet: All right, all right.
---
Alvarez: Yo, Busmalis, are you really gonna do it again? Getting left at the altar and all?
Poet: Even if the wedding do go through, he gotta play baby daddy to a kid ain't even his.
Busmalis: Some might consider that an act of generosity.
Rawls: I consider is an act of insanity. The brat was conceived on what should have been your honeymoon. That's like, freakier than cloning.
Alvarez: Yo, the Warden's not even gonna let him get a kick off conjugal.
Guerra: Marriage ain't marriage without sex.
Alvarez: That's right.
Busmalis: You gonna step in here, Bob?
Rebadow: You do have some serious issues to resolve.
---
[Stage]
Fitzgerald: Good evening, and welcome to the premier production of the Oswald Players. Before we begin, there are a few changes in the program. The second Weird Sister will be played by Reggie Rawls instead of Chico Guerra. Banquo will be played by Tom Smeeding instead of Agamemnon Busmalis. And Norman Duttweiler will play King Duncan instead of Burr Redding. I would also like to say that Warden Leo Glynn was a great supporter of bringing the arts to Oz, and so, we dedicate tonight performance in his memory, and also to the memory of Cyril O'Reily. Thank you.
[Play starts]
Inmate: They spent some money on this shit.
Poet: "When shall we three meet again? In thunder, lightning, or in rain?"
Rawls: "When the hurlyburly's done, When the battle's lost and won."
Stanton: "That will be the set of sun."
Poet: "Where the place?"
Rawls: "Upon the heath."
Stanton: "There to meet with Macbeth."