"This is me, yo, right here." -- Wallace. Oh, kid. Another disadvantage of your upbringing is that no one taught you how to win at hide and seek.
We open on a super-duper-close close-up of D'Angelo. And I mean it's like it's the pores on his right nostril discussing, with an unseen Bodie, the fact that no one's getting back to them, presumably about the supply. D'Angelo -- now seen from a reasonable distance (like, his chin's almost in the frame), says that they're going to "tap out" by midday. Poot says they've got "two hundred, maybe." D'Angelo sighs, and then Bodie finds a canister on the couch, asking what it is. D'Angelo impatiently tells him it's fish food. Hee.
At this point, up stomps Stringer, trailed by a couple of henchmen, and our Mr. Bell does not look happy. Normally he has that kind of steely equanimity; this is definitely the angriest he's looked in the series to date. Bodie puts out a hand to shake, but Stringer leaves him hanging, telling D'Angelo and Bodie he needs their pagers: "All of y'all. The whole crew." Bodie and D'Angelo hand them over without question, the latter reporting that Sterling, Cass, and Manny also have them. Stringer tells someone to go get those, too. "How'm I gonna talk to my girl?" whines Poot, divesting himself. Bodie tells him to talk to his hand: "That's the only girl you got." Stringer impatiently sends Poot away, telling Bodie and D'Angelo, "No more pagers...Off the air, all right?" Stringer gives the senior staffers each a cell phone, saying that they're the only ones who'll use them: "And y'all don't say shit on these cell phones, you understand me? We got the numbers, and we the only niggas that need them numbers -- not your moms, not your girl, nobody. You feel me?" D'Angelo knits his brow, but doesn't argue. Stringer says that they're to use the phones to set up a meet, go to it, and "talk face to face. Period." "So no more pay phones," D'Angelo tries to clarify. "Nigga, you deaf?" snaps Stringer. "I said no phones. No phones." D'Angelo deferentially asks how he's going to reach Stringer, then. A henchman hands Stringer a piece of looseleaf, which Stringer unfolds, telling D'Angelo, "Top number's for re-ups, second number's for muscle." I assume that, with Wee-Bey and Little Man off the service, the muscle position's going to be filled by executive search committee? "You need me, hit me on the third number," Stringer concludes. "Learn them shits, then throw that shit away." D'Angelo asks whether they're following this procedure in the Towers, too, like he's still got a chip on his shoulder about his fucking demotion. "Doing it every goddamn place," says Stringer curtly. "Pagers, pay phones is dead. All right?" D'Angelo says yes, and Stringer takes that as his cue to leave without a goodbye, but D'Angelo follows him, saying that they need a re-up. "Re-up from where?" asks Stringer. "You niggas ain't heard?" Well, this did take place before the era of the RSS feed. "Narcos took the main stash," Stringer explains -- fairly calmly, under the circumstances. "Why the fuck you think we changing up?" D'Angelo is apparently too shocked to reply, so Stringer stomps off, henchmen in tow.