1 Buck Page #3

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You ain't seeing a f***ing

dime from me, how bout that?

Why don't you go

back to sucking dick?

- F*** you.

- He's such a f***ing a**hole.

- Sam?

Sam?

You all right?

(clock ticking)

Look, I see this all the time.

If you don't do something,

it never ends good.

- It'll be fine.

Thank you.

Can I get you something?

A drink?

- No, I'm good.

I gotta go-

Can I drop you somewhere?

- Yeah, home.

- You call me anytime.

- When you gonna pitch a tent?

(laughing)

- Mom.

- What?

I'm old, not dead.

Need have a man

around the house.

- I love you.

(foreboding music)

(police radio mumbling)

(car engine starting)

(cash register ringing)

(ominous music)

- Hey, did you hear

what the town's

doing to the school kids?

Making them wear

the same uniforms.

- Oh, I know.

You know what, I think

it's a good idea.

Who knows, they might

even study a little more.

(chuckfing)

You know what,

I gotta get going.

My mom's at home.

- All right, see you, Sam.

' [Sam] See you.

(door ringing)

(foreboding music)

(intense music)

- Honestly, Jay, I'm

just so sick and tired

of sneaking around like this.

It's been two years now.

I mean, how much more

time do you need?

- I just need a

little more time.

Listen, your brother's not

in a good place right now.

I just have to be

careful with him.

- I understand that my brother

is not doing well right now,

but what does that have to do

with us and our relationship?

- Amara, your brother

is addicted to drugs.

Prostitutes,

gambling, everything.

The Feds are on to him.

They're probably out there

following him right now.

I don't think I can

protect him anymore.

- How long did you

know about this?

Why didn't you say

anything to me about this?

I mean, he's my brother.

I need to do something

about this, okay?

- I know. I know.

- I can't just let...

I can't just watch him

fall apart like this.

- Listen, I just need

you to be prepared

if sh*t hits the fan.

Okay?

Look, let's just

hope for the best,

but we need to

prepare for the worst.

I love you.

You know that, right?

- Yeah.

- I'll do the best for us.

Okay?

(somber music)

Come here.

(knocking)

I think the pizza's here.

(laughing)

Go pay for it.

- Hi.

- $9.75, ma'am.

- How did you get here?

- Oh, I'm just two blocks away.

It's not a big deal.

- You know what, here you go.

- Okay, thank you.

- Thank you.

- All right, have a good night.

(food sizzling)

- Where you been at?

Don't take no hour

to do one delivery.

Huh?

Been out getting

some air, Jordan?

You do that ghetto sh*t

on your time, okay?

Your job is simple.

I give you food and

you give me money.

Simple sh*t, boy.

- So you think it's ghetto

that I just did 27

deliveries today?

You know, yesterday

I was this close

to doubling that amount?

But I guess that sh*t's

ghetto two, right?

- You want a f***ing medal?

- Yeah, I do.

- You know how much

this place costs me?

Now I gotta do

twice as much work,

doing damage control on

everything you f*** up.

I'm supposed to clean

up after your sh*t?

I don't think so.

- F*** that sh*t, man.

'Quit!

Now you can cleanup

after my sh*t.

. Okay-

Obama's America.

- Yeah.

- See,

y'all don't wanna work.

Now pick that up

and do your job!

- This ain't slavery days, man.

And you don't pay me enough to put up

with your racist, redneck bullshit.

So you can kiss my

motherfucking black ass.

- I ain't kissing

your black nothing.

You just a lazy ass n*gger.

(thudding)

He hit me!

- You piece of sh*t n*gger.

I'm calling the cops.

- What the f*** you say to me, white boy?

Call the cops.

You better run.

- Give me my money.

- Oh, you want your money?

Huh?

This little lousy ass

f***ing chump change?

Here!

Take that f***ing money.

Shove it up the pasty

white ass of yours.

B*tch!

- Yo, that n*gger hit me.

(somber music)

(police sirens)

- [Cop] See those hands!

See your hands! Hands up!

Keep them up!

- Okay, okay! Just don't shoot.

- [Cop] Turn around and

get against the wall!

- Okay, okay!

- [Cop] Put your

hands on the wall.

- Just please, don't shoot me.

- You have any guns on you?

- Please, can you tell

me what this is about?

Why?

(slapping)

(groaning)

(dramatic music)

- Stop resisting.

Stop resisting.

Don't you resist.

Stand up.

(dramatic music)

In route to the jail.

- [Female Dispatcher]

Detective Magio.

Be advised,

suspect Jordan Cox,

booked on battery charges.

Matches prints from two

of your recent homicides.

Be advised.

Suspect Jordan Cox is known

to have had a relationship

with recent homicide

victim, Maria Cooper.

- Look at these pictures.

You recognize those girls?

(distant police sirens)

- I don't know them people.

- Maybe you oughta

take another look.

- I just looked at it.

Like I told you

before, I don't know.

- You're the prime suspect.

- Really?

- Yeah.

We know you did it.

What I wanna know is why.

- Why what?

- Why did you kill these girls?

- I didn't kill nobody, man!

Look, I swear to God...

- Don't you swear.

- Oh, okay.

I promise to God.

- Let me help you out.

- Oh, you wanna

help me out again.

- Yeah, I'll help you out.

- What you got for me this time?

- You go over to her house

because you wanna f*** her.

You ring the doorbell.

She answers and she says no.

Who knows why.

Maybe you do.

She says no.

You get mad, lose your temper.

Next thing you know, she's dead.

- What do you want me to say?

I don't even know what

you're talking about!

God damn.

- We know you were f***ing

at least one of these girls.

And the sooner you admit it

sign a confession!

You admit you did it.

We'll be able to plea bargain.

We can help you out.

Now you keep this sh*t up,

get dragged in front

of a jury for murder,

they will chew you up and

spit your black ass out.

You'll be lucky to get life.

- Like I told you before,

I didn't have sh*t

to do with these

white women getting killed.

How many goddamn ways

I can tell you that?

(ominous music)

Seriously?

The only suspect you can

find was my black ass,

because of a fingerprint?

Give me a break, man.

(thudding)

(ominous music)

(thudding)

- Harry.

- You need to think

about your attitude.

- What the hell is

going on with you?

- What?

- This.

- I got an admitted

violent offender

with prints all over my case.

- Really? Prints? Prints?

He's a f***ing delivery boy.

His prints are on

every doorknob.

You know, I can't

deal with you anymore.

I am so tired of picking up

your reckless detective work.

Picking up the pieces.

You're a mess out there.

I'm just so done

with you, Harry.

You need to take some time off.

- F*** you.

- You're free to go.

Harry, take time off.

Go.

- You don't tell me what to do.

- Harry.

- Stay the f***

out of my business.

- [Officer] Come with

me and get your stuff.

(somber music)

- Hey, come here.

Come on.

Sorry.

Listen.

I know we said some

shitty things before,

but we're always

gonna love each other,

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