Marvel's Luke Cage (2016) s01e06 Episode Script

Suckas Need Bodyguards

1 [theme music playing.]
[Trish.]
If you're just joining us, this is Trish Talk and we are discussing the recent events that have the residents of Harlem confused, and some even frightened.
Line one.
Sophia, you're on the air.
[Sophia.]
Luke Cage is turning the neighborhood upside down and giving it a good shake.
Trust me, no one wants to see what falls out.
[Trish.]
Are you suggesting we turn a blind eye to the problems in our city? [Sophia.]
No, but I seen the news.
The man is so strong, he doesn't have to answer to anybody.
Can you trust a person like that? Let the police do their jobs.
That's what I say.
[Trish.]
Some would argue the boys in blue don't exactly have a sterling reputation these days.
[Sophia.]
Oh, yeah, missy? Well, the next time trouble comes banging at your door, maybe you should call Luke Cage instead of 911.
[Trish chuckles.]
You know what, Sophia? I just might.
Uh, let's take another caller.
Line two.
Hi, Amir.
[Amir.]
Hey, Trish, I want to respond to that lady 'cause she's got it all wrong.
I know Luke.
He comes into the fish fry.
Always treats my wife and me with respect.
Last week, two kids started a fight, Luke took care of it and nobody got hurt.
[Trish.]
I think it's noteworthy that the only people I've spoken to that criticize are the ones who don't know him personally.
So many others have merely read about him or saw him on the news and jumped to conclusions.
[Amir.]
Trish, Luke is good people and he belongs right here in Harlem.
And I think it's important for all of us to realize something.
We are witnessing a massive shift in the boundaries of possibility.
But what is scary to some inspires hope in others.
I, for one, would like to thank Luke Cage for all the work he's doing in Harlem.
Those of us below 110th see the good work he's doing and we hope he's doing well.
I never thought I'd be happy to see your ugly face.
Well, we all can't be as pretty as you.
[laughs.]
Ain't that the truth.
You got the goods? You know me.
I always come correct.
It's all piled up in there, just waiting for you.
- So we're squared up? - Mmm, nah.
We ain't square.
We a few zeroes off.
About $100,000 worth.
[clicks tongue.]
I'm not givin' you another dime.
Good.
I don't need another dime.
I need $100,000.
No cash, no guns.
No guns, no Domingo.
The ghetto CNN is workin' overtime.
If you don't make it straight with Domingo, you're done.
Plus I got all your cash in lockup.
Oops.
Think about how you want to spend the rest of your life, Detective.
[snorts and laughs.]
Shit! Man, your juice is water since Luke Cage punked your peacock ass.
[grunts.]
[both straining.]
[groaning.]
[laughing.]
[grunts.]
[Stokes laughing.]
[breathing heavily.]
You shot a cop! [man.]
Hey, what's goin' on over there? Hey, man, you all right? [Stokes.]
When I catch you, I'm gonna use my hands, bitch.
[engine starting.]
[breathing heavily.]
[man.]
Hey! Hey! [grunts.]
[Mariah.]
I believe in Harlem.
You know, my Harlem is saturated with jazz, and good food, and the pure genius that permeates the streets.
Harlem is risin' like a phoenix out of the ashes.
I mean, that's what all of my various complexes is about, is restoring that luster.
Fantastic.
Uh, you mind if we go in now, Madam Councilwoman? The crew needs to set up for later.
Yeah, of course, of course.
Go on.
- [sighs.]
- Your new VH1 show? Criminal Spinsters? Who you callin' a spinster? I'd wear your narrow ass out.
What's this about? Your cousin.
I'm shutting him down.
You, too.
Are you threatening me? Never that.
Ah! Come on.
Let's go inside.
- I ain't no barber, Bobby.
- [Fish.]
Neither am I, Luke.
But we both agree that Harlem is a better place with the shop open.
As soon as I put Cottonmouth in handcuffs, I'm ghost.
You could make a career out of robbing bad guys.
- [chuckles.]
- Huh! That would be the perfect grind, wouldn't it? You ever think about playing for the Giants? [scoffs.]
You could make that squad easy.
[chuckles.]
Being hood famous is bad enough.
I couldn't be in the public eye on that kind of level.
Nah, man.
Wear a mask.
What for? I ain't no hero.
That's a great slogan.
"I ain't no hero.
Pay me.
" [scoffs.]
You could market that shit.
[chuckling.]
[Mariah.]
What do you mean you shot him, Cornell? Cornell! How could you be so stupid? You didn't have to shoot him.
And just let him stick me for a hundred large? Hell no.
It wasn't like I went to the meeting strapped.
It was his gun that busted off.
But you went there alone because you knew you were wrong.
[scoffs.]
This is insane.
If he lives, everything that you have built will come crashing down.
And you are not dragging me down with you.
You hearin' me? My guys are pickin' up the guns right now.
We'll hand them over to Domingo tonight.
I don't want the details.
I just want results.
You want results? I don't work for you.
Okay, forget the cops.
The cops are bad enough.
- What about Luke Cage? - Isn't your interview today? That's where your focus should be.
Givin' off that Geoffrey Canada vibe, for real.
That's where the money is.
Oh, forget the money, Cornell.
Forget the club.
Sell it! Walk away from all this shit.
People are still talking about how tall you stood at Pop's memorial.
I'm proud of you, cousin.
- [sighs.]
- I really am.
But I can take care of myself.
You need to take his ass out.
It ain't that easy.
Cage is bulletproof.
I've seen it myself.
It's real.
Does the nigga have gills? Excuse me? Drown him.
Can he burn? Can you poison him? What about a woman? You know he got one with his fine ass.
You find his weakness and you squeeze.
You soundin' a lot like Mama Mabel.
Don't worry about Cage.
His days are numbered.
I got something for him.
That's my word.
[cell phone ringing.]
¿Qué pasó? People, uh, are scrambling around here.
My niggas loaded up the stash right before the cops arrived.
[Perez.]
What the hell happened? [exhales.]
Detective Scarfe tried to squeeze me for 100 grand.
You put him up to that shit? Hell no.
Of course not.
Let me, uh, let me speak to him.
Where's he at? Bleedin' and in the wind.
You know what you just did, right? There's no easy way out of this, man.
Why do you think we're talking? This is why you need to learn how to text.
You always think the worst.
- What do you need, Mami? - Not me, you.
Luke? Yes? Oh.
You probably don't remember me, do you? Your girlfriend had me take care of you when you were brought into the hospital? In Hell's Kitchen? Hey.
[chuckles.]
Hey.
[chuckles.]
Bobby.
Bobby Fish.
I'm sorry.
Claire.
Very nice to meet you.
[Fish.]
Well, Claire, you you are far too beautiful to ever apologize for anything.
You remember that.
- May I? - Please.
[clears throat.]
[both sigh.]
You didn't have to do what you did for me.
Have you ever saved anyone's life before? More than once I'm betting.
So? So, the only thing you can think about afterwards is if they're okay.
That's all I wanted to know.
[inhales deeply.]
Well I'm still here.
How? That shotgun blast alone should've turned your brain into mush.
So I'm a freak.
No.
You're amazing.
I don't wanna be different than anybody else.
Why hide it? I mean, what are you gonna do with it? [sighs.]
[exhales.]
I gotta go.
- Text me later.
- Okay.
[indistinct chatter.]
Listen up! I'm hearin' a lot of whispers and rumors concerning Detective Scarfe and what he might've been into.
Kill that noise.
We need him back alive.
There was a trail of his blood at the scene.
His car riddled with bullets.
We don't know what the hell happened.
Focus on that.
I'm putting out an APB.
We're closing streets, tunnels, puttin' up road blocks.
Whatever it takes.
But remember something.
This belongs in our shop.
No one else's.
Now, there's already too many new faces here, far as I'm concerned.
And there're only gonna be more.
We need to be the ones to bring him home.
Let's do it.
How, uh how you holdin' up? I'd be doin' a lot better if people would stop starin' at me like I'm dirty.
What do you know, Detective? Scarfe must have told you something.
There's evidence that guns from the junkyard shoot-out were in that warehouse.
Stolen from our evidence locker? Your partner is my top suspect.
It doesn't mean Scarfe did it.
He probably got a lead, and went to go and check it out.
Alone.
Without pulling you in on a single detail.
Are you sure you don't know where to find him? If I knew, I would tell you.
So is that how we're playing this, Captain? Like Scarfe is a suspect and not a victim? He could be both or either.
We won't know until you guys bring him in.
Us? I need my best on this, Detective.
That was you and Scarfe.
Now I need you and Perez to find our boy.
Yes, ma'am.
[sighs.]
[Luke.]
You can disappear.
The whole point of livin' in New York, no one cares about anybody.
A building fell on you.
People are shooting at you.
And you walk around without a scratch.
Who's gonna ignore all that? What's wrong? It's supposed to be locked.
Bobby? Are you in here, man? [door closes.]
[breathing heavily.]
- Scarfe? - No cops.
- Not even Misty.
- Why me? 'Cause you don't trust us.
We need to get him to a hospital.
No, I can't go to the hospital.
They'll kill me.
[breathing heavily.]
Just like they did Chico.
They found him, they'll find me.
[Claire.]
He's lost a lot of blood.
Help me get him into the chair.
Now.
[Scarfe grunts.]
Just right here, thank you.
Bobby just bought these chairs.
He's gonna be pissed.
[Perez.]
You are a weirdo.
People at the precinct talk about you like you are curandera or some shit.
Like you see things.
[chuckles.]
You remember Where's Waldo? That was me as a kid.
And I could find Waldo faster than anybody.
[camera shutter clicking.]
That's what a photograph does for me.
A photograph freezes time.
It allows you to look at things, slow down, think about what's out of place, and then fill in the blanks.
That's how you find Waldo.
Maybe you should work for Kodak.
That was deep.
[chuckles.]
[Misty.]
Whatever.
- His clothes are still here, right? - Yeah.
So, if he wasn't taken, there's a chance he might come back.
We should stake it out for a while.
Never would have thought Scarfe would be cute as a kid.
That's not Scarfe.
That's his son, Earl.
Never knew he had a kid.
Earl's dead.
Scarfe forgot to lock up his gun one night.
Earl found it and accidentally shot himself.
Scarfe cracks a lot of jokes, but he rarely smiles.
There's a difference.
[clears throat.]
[gasps.]
- [picture frame clatters.]
- Oh! Shut it! Dusty old bitch.
[sighs.]
[Claire.]
Okay.
I can remove the bullet from his thigh but the shot in his side is worse.
If the bullet pierced his liver, he's gonna have internal bleeding, - and I can't do anything about that here.
- [sighs.]
[groaning.]
Give me one good reason I shouldn't dump you at the 29th.
[breathing heavily.]
I told you, man.
They're trying to kill me.
[sighs.]
- No, no, no.
Don't move.
- [grunting.]
Don't get up.
Stay right here.
Hold.
[groaning.]
Who the hell is this? I'm the woman trying to save your life.
Thank you.
Whatever.
[groans.]
[sighs.]
Well, this is gonna sting a lot.
[breathing heavily.]
Ah! God! [whimpering.]
[groaning.]
I think I'm gonna have to stay, lay low here for a little while.
No.
- Not until you tell me what's goin' on.
- I can't tell you anything right now.
[groaning.]
[panting.]
Okay.
It was Cottonmouth.
He was behind everything.
So you've been working for him the whole time? Yeah.
[breathing heavily.]
I got his guns out of lockup for him, and then he turns around and tries to kill me.
Go figure.
What makes you think I can protect you? [breathing heavily.]
You survived a drive-by and a building fallin' on your head.
[grunting.]
I'd say you're overqualified.
You mentioned Chico before you passed out.
What happened to Chico? I told you.
They killed him.
Don't lie to me.
Not now.
[Scarfe grunts.]
[softly.]
Okay.
[sighs.]
I killed him.
[straining.]
[Claire.]
Luke.
[Scarfe gasps.]
Don't.
Please.
[Scarfe choking.]
[Claire.]
You're not a killer.
Are you? [Scarfe gagging.]
[coughing.]
We're done.
- Let's go.
- [panting.]
Hey, Cage! [gasps.]
Cage! Wait! I'm an asshole! There's no disputing that.
I am a despicable human being.
But Cottonmouth is a hell of a lot worse! And I have got what it takes to put him behind bars for the rest of his life! - [Luke.]
What did you say? - [sighs.]
I can take him down.
What do you have? [breathing heavily.]
Notes.
Detailed notes of murder investigations I covered up to save his ass.
How he uses Spurlock's Mortuary to dispose of the bodies.
Why do you think you never found Tone? Or Chico? Plus I've got the name of every cop on Cottonmouth's payroll.
[sighs.]
That ought to be plenty to send him on a nice permanent trip.
[exhales.]
- Where are these notes? - [sighs.]
Tell me.
Now.
[sighs.]
My apartment.
- Alex, no one goes in the back.
- Mmm-hmm.
And make sure these people don't scuff up my floors.
They will stay immaculate, Madam Councilwoman.
So, since this will be a live interview, we'll try to keep things spontaneous.
But are there any topics you want to focus on? Well, Harlem.
How to shape it, how to elevate it, and - how my complexes will help - [sighing.]
Boring.
We've heard that speech from you a million times and a half.
I told you I do not want a fluff piece.
Not fluff, fun.
There's a difference.
Remember when Obama sang Al Green? You wanna watch me whip and nae nae, Thembi? You're a popular man.
Oh, uh the ex-wife.
Took all my money and she still needs the dick.
Glad to see chivalry isn't dead.
[Perez sighs.]
Look, look, look, Scarfe's not comin'.
He's not gonna show up just to get arrested.
- [brakes screeching.]
- [cars crashing.]
- [chuckles.]
Look at these two.
- [man and woman arguing indistinctly.]
- I think she's about to - [laughs.]
She's gonna knock him out.
Maybe you should go arrest them.
[laughs.]
[arguing continues.]
[lock breaking.]
I don't know if you remember me ten years ago, when I first got bumped up off patrol? Yeah.
It didn't seem like you belonged.
No offense.
Mmm.
None taken.
A lot of people wrote me off back then.
But not Scarfe.
He took me under his wing.
He taught me how to police for real.
I have no idea what he saw in me back then, but he has had my front and my back.
[floorboards creaking.]
If he's clean or not I wanna be the one to bring him in, ask him his side of the story.
I owe him that much.
[sighs.]
We're wasting our time.
Let's go.
Somebody's in there.
- No no way Scarfe got past us.
- Well, somebody did.
[dog barking.]
[dog barking.]
[Misty.]
Hey! Hey! [exhales.]
Hey, hey, hey, don't fall asleep, okay? [grunts.]
You need to stay conscious.
We're gonna move soon.
- [footsteps approaching.]
- [door opens.]
- [Claire sighs.]
- The cops just saw me at Scarfe's place.
- They'll be headed here any minute.
- Misty? Yeah it was her.
He can't really walk.
- I'll carry him.
- Where? The only place this evidence makes a difference.
I just need to get a car.
I'll try and grab a cab.
No, no, no, I have a better idea.
- Claire - Mami, ¿cómo estás? I texted you.
Did you get it? Our ride's here.
Yeah.
No, no, no, just come around the back.
[groans.]
- [car honking.]
- No.
Around the back.
Okay.
[groans.]
[panting.]
[groaning.]
[Claire.]
Here's our ride.
- [Luke.]
You gotta be kidding me.
- [Scarfe continues groaning.]
Oh! Careful, man.
The van is one thing.
If my daughter gets scratched, I'll kill you.
I don't care how bulletproof you are.
She's safe with me.
I promise.
- Can we drop you at home? - No, I'm fine.
- Muchas gracias, Mami.
- De nada.
- [Luke.]
You good? - [Claire.]
Yeah.
- I'll drive.
- Obviously.
[groaning.]
He really needs surgery.
How far are we going? - Downtown to One Police Plaza.
- Police headquarters? Yeah, I'm gonna hand him and the evidence over.
The DA can take it from there.
Get him round-the-clock protection until he can testify against Cottonmouth.
I'm dying back here.
You're still thinking about Cottonmouth? Yeah, you should be, too.
If he's got as many cops working for him as you say, he'll have them in the streets looking for us.
Call an EMT you can trust to meet us there.
I want to remind the viewers that we're live.
Call us using the number at the bottom of your screen.
I know the councilwoman would love to answer your questions.
Madam Councilwoman, your home is stunning.
Oh, thank you, Thembi.
That's why people are paying millions of dollars for brownstones like this one on Convent Avenue.
I mean, these buildings must be preserved and protected.
Let's talk politics.
Let's talk Damon Boone.
Yes.
That Stanford-educated carpetbagger has been saying things about my voting record, about campaign finance, that simply are not true.
My complexes will do for black-owned real estate what Geoffrey Canada has done for education uptown.
[scoffs.]
I'm just setting the record straight.
[Perez.]
Someone saw a green van parked around the back.
We got partial plates.
- Well, let's hope we get a hit on it.
- [cell phone ringing.]
Otherwise, I'm not sure where else to look.
And what in the hell is taking those damn unis so long to get here? [cell phone continues ringing.]
Yeah.
I get that.
I get it, but we ran into a problem.
And what the hell was Luke Cage doing with Detective Scarfe? Do I need to remind you? If Scarfe talks, I ain't the only one going down, Lieutenant Perez.
Half the department's coming with me.
Find him! [cell phone clatters.]
[Zip.]
Where's Shades? [exhales.]
I don't know.
Let me step up.
What you need? And how'd that work out last time? You got a choice? [clicks tongue.]
Put the word out on the street.
A hundred large for Detective Scarfe.
I want him dead.
Dead.
Dead.
Look for a green van.
Plate's 69-somethin'.
[door closes.]
[Diontey.]
We're near the barber shop.
We'll head that way.
Bring him to you or Mr.
Stokes? Traffic sucks.
There's a police checkpoint up ahead.
Next couple of blocks, actually.
Scarfe's people are looking for us.
They're probably closing the whole island down.
Bridges, tunnels That's the way I would've done it.
[coughs.]
Don't take 128.
- Which way? - [Claire.]
Make a sharp right.
- [tires screeching.]
- Hang on.
[horn honking.]
Hold on.
You seen that? Hold on.
I think that was it.
[tires screeching.]
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Zip I think I just saw the van.
And the name was right.
What color did Cottonmouth say that van was, though? - Blue.
- Green, nigga.
Yo, I'm on them right now.
Looks like we got company.
[groaning.]
Is it a squad car? [Luke.]
Black SUV.
I'll slow down and see if he passes.
[laughs.]
- [gunshot.]
- [glass shattering.]
[tires screeching.]
[Diontey.]
Back up! Move! - [Luke.]
Hold on back there! - [Scarfe groaning.]
[horn honking.]
- [Claire grunting.]
- [Scarfe groaning.]
[Diontey.]
There he is! Stay on him! [Luke.]
Kill the lights.
There he is! [C-Money.]
Yeah.
Come on, yo.
[indistinct chatter.]
[indistinct chatter continues.]
[Diontey.]
Light his ass up! [tire deflating.]
Shit! I'm gonna circle around.
You three, through the hole.
Go, go, go! [man.]
Yo, man.
[C-Money.]
Yo, through here! [man.]
Yo, here.
Here.
[C-Money.]
Come on, let's go! [sighs.]
What are we doing? - We should just head back to the precinct.
- No.
If we hear something, I wanna be ready to go, not stuck behind some damn desk.
Can we at least go to Wendy's? I dig them Frostys, man.
[chuckles.]
Your stomach can wait.
[dispatcher on radio.]
10-13 near Bowery.
Repeat, shots fired near Bowery.
That's right near One Police Plaza.
If they're running, why would they go down there? Maybe they're not running.
- [siren blaring.]
- [siren stops.]
What the hell are you doing? Why do you wanna rush down there? He might need my help.
Shots fired means he resisted arrest.
They probably lit his ass up.
If he's dirty or not, you don't want to see that.
He's still your partner.
Detective Knight.
[Perez.]
What's going on? Yeah, I'm trying to head down there right now, but Perez is stopping me.
- Who's that? - Okay.
Why? Who is that? Okay.
I'll do that.
Yeah, I'm glad you're okay.
That was Scarfe, wasn't it? [snickers.]
What'd he say? Not to trust you.
That you're in on all of this.
What? Hell no! You can't believe that rat! He's lying.
He's in Cottonmouth's pocket much deeper than I am.
Bet bet you didn't know that, hmm? No one was on the phone.
Microphone check, five-o.
You're too smart for your own good.
You know that? Yeah, I'd rather be a smart-ass than a dumb-ass.
Now give me your gun.
[grunting.]
- [Misty screaming.]
- [gunshot.]
[Perez grunting.]
- [Misty panting.]
- [groaning.]
[grunting.]
[panting.]
Uh-huh.
Okay, okay.
Okay, okay.
Now cuff yourself, you piece of shit! Roll the video.
[Mariah through monitor.]
You know, my Harlem is saturated with jazz, and good food, and the pure genius that permeates the streets.
Harlem is risin' like a phoenix out of the ashes.
I mean, that's what all of my various complexes is about, is restoring that luster.
- This is great.
- I believe in Harlem.
This is great.
Thanks for taping that earlier.
You said you wanted something different.
This is it.
I mean, you can you can see it all right there.
And I don't just represent Harlem.
- I am Harlem.
- And we're live.
Which Harlem is you? - Pardon me? - There are actually two Harlems.
The one shown to us in that video.
Historic, hardworking and hopeful.
But in this next video, we see an entirely different Harlem.
A historically corrupt Harlem.
Your grandmother, the notorious Mabel Stokes, and her brother-in-law, Pistol Pete Stokes, shown here, were major players in it.
The boy in that photo would grow up to be Cornell Stokes, aka Cottonmouth, a man whose name rings out in both legitimate and criminal circles.
Oh, that's a that's a personal photograph.
You you really, uh, have no right to show that one.
Well, how about this one? A somehow brutal assault that took place at the Crispus Attucks Houses didn't make the news.
Even stranger was the millions of dollars in cash found on the premises in your office.
There's some people on the scene even describe a man who, under a barrage of gunfire, managed to beat down a number of criminals, some of whom may have worked for your family.
So you can see how it might be difficult to decipher which Harlem you stand for.
Despite these unwarranted attacks on my character, I have always tried to make clear what I want which I can't say for you, Thembi.
It's very clear what you and the rest of your media friends want.
You want a story.
Not the news.
Not the truth.
Just a story that you will do anything to sell.
Shut it down! Stop.
Alex! Thank you for your time.
You get your ass out of my house.
[panting.]
How long before we get to police headquarters? I think we're near city hall.
Ah, it's cold.
Is it cold, or is it just me? We're close.
They'll warm him when we get there.
[Claire grunts.]
[gunfire continues.]
[man 1.]
Yo, you should've died! [man 2.]
Come on, man.
My shit's dead.
[C-Money.]
Come on! Get it together, man! [man 1.]
Come on, get him! [C-Money.]
Light him up! Now you're just pissin' me off.
My turn.
[men grunting.]
[Claire.]
We're gonna go up, okay? Come on.
[Scarfe grunts.]
[panting.]
[Claire grunts.]
One more step.
- I'm so tired.
- How far is it to One Police Plaza? I gotta I gotta stop now.
Yeah, we can stop as soon as we get there and we're safe.
I gotta see my son.
You can see your son and anyone else you want to when we get there.
[crashing.]
[police sirens wailing.]
[panting.]
You okay? Yeah.
At least I kept one promise.
No scratches on you.
[groaning weakly.]
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.
Hold his head.
Hold my hand.
Look at me.
Look at me.
Breathe.
- [breathing heavily.]
- Breathe.
- Breathe.
- [Misty.]
Hey! [panting.]
Hey.
Listen, Scarfe.
Okay, you've [chuckles nervously.]
You've got a lot of explaining to do, okay? And you're not getting out of it.
[coughs.]
You better You better let me do the interrogation, partner.
- I'm better I'm better at it.
- [laughs.]
[chuckling.]
Oh, you're better at it? No, you're not.
- Huh? - I got rapport.
[crying.]
Yeah, you got rapport.
[softly.]
I'm sorry.
Rafe, no.
Rafe, no.
[crying.]
No.
No, Rafe.
No.
No, Rafe, no.
No, Rafe, please! [sobbing.]
[police sirens wailing.]
[R&B song playing.]
Get the rest of your shit and bugger off.
Councilwoman Dillard, can you comment on the arrest of your cousin, Cornell Stokes, at Harlem's Paradise tonight, on charges of police corruption, extortion and murder? Alex! Is it true that he's responsible for the murder of decorated Harlem police detective Rafael Scarfe? - Thank you for your time! - Councilwoman, can we get a comment? Councilwoman, can we get just one comment? - Councilwoman! Councilwoman! - [door closes.]
Shit! Shit! [Claire.]
You need to get some new clothes.
[Luke.]
I have some stuff back at the crib.
This is beginning to become a habit.
[sighs.]
Swiss cheese shirt.
Car bounces off of you.
Punching through steel and concrete.
Just another day, right? You're safe and your mom's van is insured.
That's all that matters to me.
After all that, you can't say you're not special.
I'm still not sure what I am.
You know exactly who you are.
And what you need to do.
[chuckles.]
Pop used to say the same thing you're saying to me.
I did right by him.
Cottonmouth's in jail and I'm done.
You're moving on? I think so.
It's time.
There's things with your powers you haven't even tested.
There's so many good things that you could still do.
Maybe I could help.
- You have ideas? - Yeah.
Why don't we start by getting some coffee first? - I'm not sleeping with you.
- Whoa! Did I say anything about that? Why can't coffee just be coffee, huh? Okay.
You didn't even touch your coffee this morning.
You drank the orange juice.
Okay? You don't drink coffee.
[telephone rings.]
[sighs.]
[scoffs.]
Cowards.
What's going on? They're afraid of the headlines.
Police corruption.
A crime boss who's related to a prominent city councilwoman.
And the only person to tie it all together is a corrupt cop.
A dead one at that.
Then I'll be the one to tie it together.
[scoffs.]
You're on the wrong side of the glass for that, baby girl.
First Fisk, then Cottonmouth.
This is huge.
But they're over there and we're right here.
[funk music playing.]

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