Brooklyn's Finest Page #3

Since you're the oldest here...

Hey, look,

if it's all the same to you,

I've got seven days.

I'm no one's teacher.

I'm not a role model.

God knows you're not, Eddie,

but your name came up

in the computer, pal.

This thing's been kicked up

by two months

and all eyes are on it.

Just do the best you can, okay?

Come on, Dugan.

Don't you want to do something useful

with your last two minutes on the job?

Not really.

What the f***, Clarence?

I've been nursing this seat for 15 minutes.

Don't call me Clarence.

You order for me yet?

Yeah, pancakes, eggs and bacon.

- I told you...

- I know. I remembered turkey bacon.

I know that you don't eat the swine.

All right.

The drugs are in play.

All the principles are accounted for.

I haven't made contact

with the connect yet.

Again with Jersey, huh?

F*** those racist crackers, man.

You know how they do, Bill.

Black man, black car,

profiling sh*t.

What am I supposed to do?

Just cave into them?

I played that sh*t perfectly.

In all fairness there was

20 bricks of raw in the trunk.

Yeah?

Well, they didn't know that.

It's called tact.

You know what tact is, right?

I don't wanna play games

with you, Bill, all right?

Now you need to push harder

about me making grade.

- Talk to the chief.

- I know.

It's not like you haven't earned it.

You've earned it.

But it's just, I've told you,

these things, they take...

Time.

You keep saying that sh*t,

but you know that

I've put in more than e-f***ing-nough.

What's happening?

What's going on? Why is this

all of a sudden so urgent, huh?

When that trooper

pulled us over last night...

...he gets me out of the car

and he's doing

his whole Gestapo bit, right?

My man and thems

in the car are ready.

Shotgun, he's on high alert.

Kid in the back, he's locked,

cocked and ready to rock.

- I ain't going back to jail.

- No, man, hold it. Hold it.

- No no no.

- I'm dying to bust my guns, man.

You know I can't stand

these motherfuckers.

This guy has no f***ing idea

what's about to go down.

You know what I'm thinking?

"F*** it."

"Let it be."

And then we get back to the Ps,

and I see the young brother

laid out on the concrete

and I find out how...

Next time you're on my road,

knock the speeding off.

I don't give a damn who you are.

...I start thinking, "We should've just

deaded them motherfuckers on the road.

It'd have been two to one,

but so what?

I'm good with those odds.

F*** it."

You see what I'm saying?

I'm f***ed up in the game, man.

You've got to get me out of here.

I'm gonna keep greasing the wheel

for you, see what we can do, okay?

Desk, suit, tie.

It's just something I need, okay?

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