This program may contain scenes of violence, strong language, adult situations, and nudity and therefore may be unsuitable for children under seventeen. Viewer discretion is advised. I know when I see that warning, all I can think is, "Hell, yeah! Bring it ooooooon!"
Tommy Gavin (I'm not going to pretend not to know the character names) walks into his bathroom, which is fairly grimy and features some God-awful teal and turquoise tile. It's kind of funny that the first time you see Tommy, he's about to pee, since Glark is so obsessed with Denis Leary's pee-colored hair. ["Not just Glark. Denis Leary's hair is the exact colour of morning urine! It's freaky!" -- Wing Chun] As Tommy prepares to do his business, smoke starts coming out of the showerhead behind him. Smoke fills the toilet bowl. Smoke comes out of the sink. Smoke comes out of the heat vent. Tommy starts coughing, and tries to open the door of the now smoke-filled room, which is locked. He yells at someone to check the bathroom.
Tommy wakes with a start on his couch. He lets go a nice smoker's cough. He makes his way to the kitchen and swigs some orange juice from the container.
Cut to Tommy addressing a probie class of firefighters, who are all standing at attention in front of the Manhattan skyline. I'm just going to transcribe this speech, which I won't do that often, but it really sets the tone. Plus, there's not much more to the scene than the speech, and why describe what he's saying when I could just transcribe it? Tommy says, "You want to know how big my balls are? My balls are bigger than two of your heads duct-taped together. I've been in the middle of shit that would make you piss your pants right now. Uptown, downtown, Harlem, Brooklyn. But there ain't no medals on my chest, assholes. 'Cause I ain't no hero. I'm a fireman. We're not in the business of making heroes here. We're in the business of discovering cowards. 'Cause that's what you are if you can't take the heat. You're a pussy. And there ain't no room for pussies in the FDNY."
One of the probies turns and looks at someone behind him, making a face like he's about to crack up. Tommy gets right in the kid's face and asks what he's laughing at, and when the kid tries to answer, Tommy tells him not to speak unless he's spoken to. Um, didn't Tommy just ask him a direct question?
Tommy continues, "You pussies better pray you don't get assigned to my firehouse, because I have seen it all. I knew sixty men who gave their lives at Ground Zero. Sixty! Four of 'em from my house." Tommy turns and gestures to some photos sitting on a table in front of him. "Vito Costello. Found him almost whole. Ricky Davis. Found him almost whole, hugging a civilian woman. Bobby Vincent. Found his head. And my cousin, Jimmy Keefe. My best friend. Know what they found of him? What I was able to bring back, give to his parents? A finger. That's all. A finger. These four men were better human beings and better firefighters than any of you will ever be." The probies looks down, humbled. Tommy walks off without looking back as the instructor orders the class to thank him.