Johnny, totally fucking terrified, runs along a path and out of the courtyard, Poot hot on his heels. "Stop that white motherfucker!" calls Poot, and a handy bystander sticks out his leg to trip Johnny. Bodie rejoices, calling to everyone within earshot that Johnny was the one passing bad bills, and they start beating him up, but just a little, until D'Angelo arrives with Wallace. Johnny denies the scam at first, but then starts crying and apologizing. Bodie says that, Johnny having burned them for $30, they need to take him down to Franklin Avenue and throw him onto the expressway. For...$30? Six Happy Meals? Really? All right. No one disagrees with Bodie, anyway. Poot hauls Johnny to his feet, as Johnny continues apologizing. D'Angelo quietly asks what Johnny's got on him. "Just the $10 I dropped, man," says Johnny. "The real one." D'Angelo gazes at Johnny in silent disappointmen, and picks up the real $10. "Well, what's UP?!" screams Bodie. D'Angelo takes the bill and walks off, leaving the rest of the crew to kick Johnny's ass.
Back in Narcotics, Daniels is briefing his team -- Kima, McNulty, Herc, Carver, and a barely-visible Det. Michael Santangelo (Michael Salconi), as Asst. State's Attorney Rhonda Pearlman (Deirdre Lovejoy) and her unflatteringly too-short hairdo take notes. McNulty and Santangelo are to work the murders, while Kima et al do Terrace buy-and-busts: "We put some years over top of some of these low-level people, we'll roll a few, no problem." Daniels is already on his way back to his office when McNulty argues, "You're not gonna get Avon Barksdale or Stringer Bell, or anyone else above the street -- not on street rips." "You don't know that," says Daniels, naïvely. McNulty says that Stringer and Avon are deep and organized, and have everyone on the Terraces running scared. Daniels, tolerantly, asks what McNulty suggests. "Surveillance teams, DNRs, asset investigation," he says. "Keep gathering string till we can find a way in -- either a wired CI or a Title III [by which I assume he means this]. That's what makes this case." "Is that what you told the judge?" says Daniels. Oooooooh. "Okay, so I'm an asshole for that," sighs McNulty. Hee. "But I'm right about this much." Daniels nods briefly, but concludes, "No mics, no wires. We do this fast and clean and simple." He starts to head back to his office again, but McNulty can't shut up: "Then you don't do it at all." Daniels turns back to smack a bitch, but Ronnie defuses the tension (a little) by saying, "Seems to me you all could've had this fight between yourselves before calling in the State's Attorney's office." McNulty turns to Kima to ask what they know about Avon Barksdale: "The guy's owned all of Franklin Terrace for a year. What do we have on him now? A DOB? A sheet?" Kima looks to Daniels. "A B of I photo?" McNulty presses. Daniels exhales. "We don't even have a fucking photo of the guy!" says McNulty. "Two days ago, no one on this fucking floor knew this mope's name," offers Santangelo. "Now he's some kind of criminal mastermind." "Shit, I say we go down to the Terrace and fuck some people up," says Ronnie. Just kidding! Of course that suggestion comes from Herc. Everyone but McNulty chuckles. "You all don't need a prosecutor, you need a fucking referee," says Ronnie as Daniels looks up at the ceiling and prays for the serenity not to tear out McNulty's spleen through his armpit.