Basketball game. Herc and Carver have managed to get all the way up to the fence and have a great view as Air Baltimore-dan gets another basket, and the whole West Side bench leaps to its feet. Across the court, Proposition Joe (Robert F. Chew), all suited up, looks annoyed, though presently one of his guys -- a Marcus Rivera -- makes an impressive play and sinks a basket. Stringer tells Avon that Rivera played in Italy, and Avon gets up to call across to Prop Joe: "Hey, yo, Slim. What's up, man? You gotta go all the way over to Europe to get you a ringer?" "He home now," says Prop Joe smugly. "But I see you pulling boys out the junior colleges. He from Eastside -- went to Dunbar." "What's up, playboy -- how come you wearing that suit?" asks Avon. "For real, it's eighty-five fucking degrees out here and you trying to be like Pat Riley!" "Man, look the part, be the part, motherfucker," Prop Joe shoots back. Avon: "Nigga, please -- you walking around with a fake fucking clipboard! You can't even read a playbook! Be for real! Bunch of bitches." Well, I'm sure the clipboard is real, and that the good folks at Staples would object to the mischaracterization. Anyway, Prop Joe has no response to that, and Avon finally sits back down to watch the action. And picked a good time to do so, too, as Air Baltimore-dan sinks a basket so sweet that even Herc and Carver express their admiration. And then they hear a familiar voice ask, "Ain't y'all on the clock?" "Ain't you?" Herc asks Bodie. "We on break," says Poot. Carver says that he and Herc are on a break, too (oh no, Carver didn't sleep with the girl from the copy place, did he?), and asks what the deal is with the game. Bodie says that the game is an annual tradition, and that the loser has to throw a big party the next weekend. Herc asks who's favoured. Poot reports that Eastside's won the past two years. "My boys," says Carver proudly -- or, as proud as someone who didn't know this game even happened until three minutes ago can be.
Elsewhere, Kima and Lester have brought Shardene down to the morgue to look at Keisha's body. The coroner narrates the details of her discovery in a Dumpster, and the results of her tox report (positive for heroin and cocaine). Shardene covers her eyes and cries, managing to choke, "In a Dumpster?" "Rolled up in a rug," says Lester. Kima dryly says that she ODed, and that whoever was with her "didn't do shit but roll her up and throw her away." "Because that's how they do," says Lester seriously. The coroner adds that Keisha had semen in...well, all three holes, as Poot would say: "Three different blood types, all secretors." "They fucked her and threw her away," says Kima. As Shardene turns away and cries, covering her face, Lester walks around the gurney to tell Shardene, in his gentlest voice, "The only reason we knew who she was or what she was about or what she might mean to someone like you is because we've been keeping an eye on the people who run Orlando's for some time now." On the other side of the gurney, Kima quietly adds, "We got ways of knowing what they're saying. What they're thinking." "You know what they said about this one?" Lester asks Shardene, but before she can guess, Kima tells her: "That the stupid bitch didn't know how good the snort was at Little Man's party. That it was her own fault. That's how they do. They use people. And when they throw them away, they find a way to say it ain't on them." At this, Shardene finally starts sobbing in earnest: "Lying motherfucker! He said they took her to a hospital!" The coroner covers Keisha again.