Prison. Brianna is telling D'Angelo, "You leave it to Avon. He's gonna get some years off your sentence." "No doubt, knowing Avon," says D'Angelo ruefully. Brianna, getting distressed, leans closer to the glass, imploring D'Angelo to "show up" and say whatever Levy tells him to. D'Angelo knits his brow, looking askance, and stays silent so long that Brianna has to demand, "What the hell is wrong with you? I'M ASKING YOU." A con a couple of seats down eavesdrops watchfully as D'Angelo tells Brianna, "Those hot shots -- that was Avon." Brianna bites her lip, but doesn't actually seem especially concerned about all the guys who had their prison experience go even worse, thanks to her brother, as she plaintively tells her son, "I want you home." D'Angelo squints as he replies, "You asked me to carry this. I'm carrying it. This is mine, right here, right now." "Boy, you ain't listening to me," snaps Brianna. She starts to rant on, but D'Angelo cuts her off, and asks whether she remembers when they used to live on Linden Avenue. D'Angelo was six or seven years old, playing on the porch. "Them twins" showed up and started bullying him: "Remember that?" Clearly, Brianna does remember, and looks down in shame. D'Angelo: "I'm banging on the door, trying to get inside, and you standing right there to open the door. Except you ain't letting me inside. You told me to go back out there and fight them, whether I lose or not. Remember?" He's smiling a little as he ends his recitation, but Brianna's voice breaks as she recalls, "They beat the shit out of you." D'Angelo: "Yeah. Then you say to me, 'Boy, I might have brung you into this world, but you the one who gonna have to live in it.' Well, Ma: I'm still here. Me. You gotta let me live like I need to live." A single tear rolls picturesquely down Brianna's cheek, but she actually seems to get it as D'Angelo concludes, "You tell Avon, Stringer, and Donette, all of them, to leave me be." He presses his hand to the glass, his brow not just knit but practically crocheted as he waits for Brianna's response. After a long moment, she lefts her own hand and touches the glass on her side. His point made, D'Angelo quickly hangs up -- don't overclose! -- and heads out of the room; the other con who'd been giving him the hairy eyeball takes off after him, at an unobtrusive distance. I don't think he's interested in discussing Tender Is The Night, either.
Detail office. Now it's Bunk's turn to work while Lester bounces a ball off the wall, except that Lester's aim is bad (or Bunk ruined the ball), because instead of coming back to Lester, it keeps veering off toward Bunk's head. Finally, Bunk loses it, and announces that he needs a drink. Beadie protests that they're almost through 2002, but Bunk insists, "No. Tomorrow is another goddamn day, right?" As Bunk picks up his coat and makes for the door, Lester hurls the tennis ball at him. Little does Bunk know, Beadie and Lester are totally going to have a margi-marti pedi party right there in the office as soon as he's gone.