Elevator up. Gedrick calls up Wahlberg and says the cop's on Netter Street. Hold up. Gedrick's got cell service in a freight elevator in East L.A.? Nuh-uh. In an old grocery store called Clark and Sons, they'll find their cop.
Chronic. 11:25 PM. Chronic apparently can make wide, establishing crane shots outside San Quentin in his POV. Impressive.
"Thirty-five minutes," Chronic says. McNorris asks him if he killed Jellybean. Chronic says he "never smoked nobody that didn't deserve it." He says he killed Jellybean's punk ass, and he'd do it again. He asks if McNorris is surprised. "No," McNorris says with defeat. "Nothing surprises me anymore." God, this show. It really needs to get over itself a little, don't you think? McNorris laughs. "What?" Chronic asks. "It's funny," McNorris says, forcing my eyes to roll all the way to the back of my head, so I begin recapping my rods and cones. "You and I have something in common." "You trippin'," Chronic scoffs. "No, no, no, no," McNorris says, stuck on repeat. "You see, my father, he was a uh...he was a boxer." Lordy. MAKE WAY FOR THE SCHMALTZ. "Big hands. Southpaw. Threw a vicious hook. I was on the receiving end of that a few too many times when I was a kid." No, he's not done. "My father...just didn't know how to show...emotion. He showed it by yelling or throwing things, like punches. But I took 'em. It was the only time I ever felt...close to him." Chronic and I laugh. He says this heart-to-heart isn't going to change anything, and he's surprised it took "Mickey D" so long to figure out they had something in common. He says he knows McNorris can play him better than that.
McNorris says Chronic deserves to rot in hell, but McNorris fought to keep him alive. "A little boy sees his dad gunned down in the streets," he says. You know the rest. The dad was killed for someone else's crime. "The horror. The random unfairness of that." We're in extreme close-up here as McNorris is looking right at us to say that the crime stays with the little boy, having seen his daddy gunned down for no good reason. He grows up and vows to avenge his father's death, makes it his mission to take to the same streets: "Join a gang. Carry a gun. Try to right some of those wrongs from so long ago." "So you studied my life story," Chronic says. "No," McNorris breathes. "That's not your life story, Daryl. That's Samuel Norville's." He says the difference is that Samuel put on an LAPD uniform and carried a service revolver: "Huge difference between his gang and yours." McNorris shouts that he'd never be able to be Samuel Norville because Samuel's willing to trade his life for Chronic's. "That's his job. That was his mission. He's not the enemy. He deserves to live. Come on, Chronic. LET HIM LIVE." And my dick shrivels into my body and becomes a nice pretty pussy again. Me, my pussy, Boomtown, and the Lifetime network, bringing you all the crap dialogue you can handle. Chronic says he would have punished McNorris on the street for what he did to his nose. "But you've got balls. You've got balls, Counselor." Chronic says he can have his cop back. They say it's time for Chronic to go. McNorris asks how he'll know that his cop's going to be safe. Then he asks again. And again. "My last words," Chronic says calmly. "They're waiting for them. It's a code. I'm gonna tell 'em that they need to squash him." We see that Chronic and McNorris are now holding hands, caressing each other's fingers. What? Don't look at me like that. They are. McNorris, in a close-up I hope they never repeat again for the rest of this show's short life, asks if there's anything he can do. Chronic says it's all covered. It's all covered. Covered. Cov. Ered. Over. Covered. Over.