Stone Page #2

but I'm just saying I prefer Stone.

Gerald Creeson.

So what's Stone, like a nickname?

That's something from here?

No. Oh no, man.

F*** ail these a**holes.

Yo, that's what my people call me.

You know, people who know me.

Look, are we just gonna, like-- are you

just gonna tick the boxes and sh*t?

I mean, can we-- can we talk straight?

I mean, you gonna help me out or what?

'Cause I, you know, I don't think

- I deserve to be up in here no more.

- Let's just slow down. Slow slow down.

I've done a long bid, man.

Three more years ain't gonna--

Slow down. Let's~let's talk

about what got you here.

~ You want to tell me about that?

- it's right there in front of you.

~ Why you want to talk about that again?

- 'Cause now you're mine.

You moved up.

And just 'cause I like to chat.

All these scrubs in here, you know,

these short-timers and meatballs,

they're like,

they're all innocent, right?

Yeah. But at least I admit it.

You know, I copped

to what I did right away,

and-and now

I'm lookin' forward, man.

I got a job lined up

and I'm sayin',

why I got to talk about that sh*t

every f***in' time?

'Cause I want to hear

your side of it, that's why.

You know what? Just f*** this sh*t.

F*** you too.

~ I ain't got time for this bullshit.

- Hey, son--

No, you're just settin' them up

so they can flop me, man.

So you write what you're gonna write

and let's just get on with it, man.

~ 'Cause I'll take the flop.

- Hey, son. Stone.

- Go ahead, max me, max me.

- Son, calm down.

You don't think I'll do it,

I'll see that max standing

- on my f***ing head, man.

- Stone!

I'll see you outside

before you see me, b*tch.

Stone! In about

two f***ing seconds you're gonna

go in the hole, and your file is

gonna go to the bottom of my pile.

You understand?

You see that door in front of you?

You know where it goes- back.

You want to go back?

Be my guest.

You want to go forward,

you want to walk out of here,

you want to find that door?

Me, I'm that door.

And you will go through me. If I ask

you a question about the weather,

you better f***ing answer it or go back

and I'll see you in three years.

- You got it?

- Yeah.

~ Then sit the f*** down.

- All right.

Well, we just shootin' the sh*t.

(Stone chuckles)

I like her, man. She's hard.

Okay. All right, look,

look, this is a process.

We talk.

We're not friends,

but just pretend we're friends, okay?

Relax, just-just talk, that's all,

and then maybe we both get

what we want, okay?

~ Okay, let's pretend.

- Okay.

You're married.

Yeah.

Okay, that's good.

How long are you married?

Nine years, man--

eight of it up in this sh*t.

It's right in the file, man.

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