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Narc Page #5
They're thin.
What you don't f***ing do
is talk to her
without notifying me in advance!
That's not the way we do things!
Why is that?
What's the problem
with me speaking to her?
Because the problem is
every f***ing question you asked her,
she's already answered!
She's been badgered and bothered
by cops and cop questions
for two f***ing months now,
and the biggest f***ing problem is
her husband is f***ing dead!
You understand?!
- I understand that.
- Great.
Don't let it happen again.
It's the meanest crowd ever tonight.
It's like the Roman Coliseum in here.
No to babies.
Are you insane?
It's burnback.
that they stew in a freebase
and then shoot.
It killed this guy Dandridge
I told you about.
Well, I think they were trying to sell
the same sh*t to Calvess.
Yeah?
Tellis? Mason in Records.
Hey, what's going on?
Hey, I got the stuff.
Looked for matches, looked for hits...
No, no, I just want hits.
How many hits?
Okay, I got four,
and they're a little bit vague.
You want the names?
You got something to write with?
Yep, go.
All right... R. Evans...
Yeah?
R. Mosley...
Mosley.
G. Parks, E. Sheps.
Yeah?
The last one, Sheps.
He got brought in ten months late,
and they booked him in the E.R.
I got that.
Yeah, okay.
You got an address on that?
Yeah, Madison...
For the last guy,
I got 443 Grashid, Unit 2.
I don't know how good it is,
but that's the last address we got.
"Unit 2," that's good enough.
- All right, man, thanks.
- All right, appreciate it.
They ran the comps through,
an overdose was
brought into the E.R.,
and this guy Sheps...
Wait a f***ing minute.
Eugene Sheps... Jesus Chri...
I know f***ing Eugene Sheps.
I know this f***ing guy.
When your mind's
playing tricks on you...
You been doing this all week, man.
I need my money.
I ain't messin' 'round
with you this time,
but I need my dough.
I'm gonna let you off where you are,
and when I get down there,
you better have my...
whatever. Later.
You know, you left the door unlocked.
What the f***?!
You shouldn't do that,
'cause anyone can walk in.
What the f*** y'all doing
in my house, man?
Ah, no need to get up.
We just want to ask you a few...
What the f***
y'all doing in my crib, man?
Yo, hold up, man. Hold up, man.
Get the f*** off of me!
Get the f*** off of me!
Get off!
Huh? Huh? You want the bottle?
Here.
Anymore bottles?
What the f*** is?
F***, man! Oh, f***!
My f***ing arm!
There you go.
You're a spicy little burrito,
aren't you, there, Eugene?
How are you, my man?
Take a seat.
Take a f***ing seat.
How you been, Deacon, good?
Oh, f*** this, man!
Oh, Jesus.
Are you still sniffing glue, Deacon?
Isn't this sh*t a little dated, dawg?
F***ed with a bottle
of modeling glue a few years back,
and you sealed your sinuses shut.
You had to have them drilled,
you remember that back then,
back in the day?
cans of hair spray.
Oh, f***, man!
How you making your paper
these days, Eugene?
Six months on, huh?
Titan Auto, Titan Auto.
and cutting them up, or what, boss?
Oh, f***, now I know
your snitch and b*tch ass now, man.
You're that motherf***er,
Grimmy, dirty into some sh*t.
Wrong answer.
F*** that, man!
I seen you, man.
You that motherf***er hanging
around Endo Joe and sh*t.
That's right, that's right.
You know what happened to him, right?
He up in Jackson, man.
No, no, no, no, he was.
- He's dead now.
- Oh, f***!
And he died f***ing dumb,
talking sh*t to some Aryans, you know?
So they peeled him back
and they shanked his b*tch ass
We got a lot of pals like that,
don't we, huh?
About to ask you about another
dead junkie...
a guy name of Dowd.
You know him?
No? No?
Hey, you listening to me?
- Are you listening to me?
- Yeah, man.
Huh? No?
You see, I do.
I know Dowd, I know Endo Joe,
I know what happened
to that little punk
you used to roll with,
J. Reed.
I know your daddy nicknamed you Deacon
after Deacon Jones,
'cause he had a little thing with him.
F***, man...
You know how I know that, don't you?
- How, man?
- 'Cause I was
and I still am a cop.
A f***ing cop?
You're trying to tell me
you a f***ing cop?
- Word.
- If you a cop,
why you ain't bust me back then?
'Cause you way too little
to bust, acorn.
Yo, f*** that sh*t, man.
You forgetting something.
I used to smoke blunts with you,
Mr. Cop, man.
I don't give a sh*t
what you think, a**hole.
It doesn't matter to me in the least,
but I'm about to tell
you what does matter,
and you're about to f***ing listen
like your life depended on it.
F***.
What the f***, man?
A month ago, an undercover officer
was murdered... pedestrian tunnel
off Houston and West Grand.
They beat him up,
they put a gun to his f***ing head,
I don't want to hear any sh*t
about what you don't know
or what you didn't do,
because we both know
you ain't got the nut sack
for something that size,
so, I'm f***ing positive
you didn't kill him.
His name was Michael Calvess.
Take a gander, there, buddy.
Hold on a minute, man.
Y'all motherfuckers come up
in my f***ing crib, and sh*t,
want to throw f***ing hot sauce
and blind my f***ing ass,
and now you want me to help you?
Street name Jimmy Fredricks.
- F***ing crazy?
- I know you know.
- Oh, my bad.
- You know you know.
My bad.
I know this motherf***er.
I think I might've let him
suck on my dick once or twice.
Come here, come here.
You want to be bounced
back to County, keep it up!
I'll have you wearing
half-shirts and halter tops,
braiding some n*gger's hair!
Piece of sh*t!
Oh, f***, man,
I think I'm bleeding, man.
You going to act like a punk,
you're going to get played like one.
Now, listen very, very carefully.
They found smack at the murder scene.
A mean f***ing mix.
Now, you took
some of this exact same stuff
about ten months ago,
and it nearly killed your dumb ass.
You don't have the chemistry
or the sense God gave goats,
which means you didn't do the cook.
Now, Dowd is dead,
so, who sold to you?
Whatever, man.
You going to tell us? No?
You think you're a real
f***ing smartass, you know that?
We're tossing every
inch of this place.
Every inch!
I didn't do it, man.
I don't know, man.
Where is it?
Where is it?!
Oh, my God, this must be one
of those new refrigerator safes!
What a laugh, you dumb f***!
What's all this, huh?
What's all this?!
Oh, bagels and guns.
What do you know?
You're going to prison.
You're deep lock now.
Now, tell us who sold you.
Deep lock found, deep lock found.
Come on, man, f*** all this sh*t, man!
Unbelievably so f***ing dumb!
Are you kidding me?
This is the last time
I'm going to ask you!
- Who sold you?!
- Get off me, man!
- Who sold you?
- Darnell, man!
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"Narc" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 29 Aug. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/narc_14490>.
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