Bodie stalks into the Pit, spitting at Poot, "What the fuck is that?" Poot explains about the junkie's alleged charge as to the poor quality of Death Grip. Bodie, quietly: "Now we're beating niggas' ass over speaking the truth?" Poot explains that he wasn't the one dishing out the beating, and Bodie sighs, "We're stomping niggas over bullshit, man. Somebody gotta pull Stringer up on this." I think Bodie looks forward to a day when he can stomp a nigga for legitimate cause.

Clement Street Café. Ziggy is sitting at the bar, painfully drinking out of half his mouth, when La La and Nick come in. Seeing the shape Ziggy's in, Nick asks what happened, and Ziggy says that "fucking niggers" got him: "Took my money, and they got Princess, too...If I'd had a gun, I swear to God, I would've capped every one of those motherfuckers." Nick, already knowing the answer, asks whether Ziggy called the cops. "Can't," says Ziggy. "It was over some dope." Nick leans forward, sneering, "You bought a fucking package, didn't you?" Dude, what did he just say? Ziggy stares at the bar, and Nick mutters, "Serves you right, you stupid fuck." That can be the second subtitle for the season. Dolores sets a shot in front of Nick, which he quickly slams down before asking Ziggy whether he bought the package from White Mike. Ziggy tells Nick that it was actually Cheese. "Why not White Mike?" asks Nick. Because the white man already gets enough advantages in this world? "Fuck Mike, you know how he be," says Ziggy evasively. "Why the fuck would I know 'how he be'?" snarls Nick. Ziggy, effortfully, tells Nick, "It ain't my fault, all right? It ain't." And insofar as his subcontractors are shorting him, he's right. But in a larger sense, he's...less right. Looking from side to side, Ziggy complains that business has been slow: "Package ain't turned around yet. But the fucking hoodleheads ain't hearing it, so I get jumped." "Hoodleheads"? That's a new offensive euphemism. It might be my favourite totally weird offensive euphemism since I learned last week that, in the olden days, closeted homosexuals were formerly known as "cedarchest sissies." Ziggy winds up his tale of woe: Cheese & Co. are holding "Princess" for ransom, and if Ziggy doesn't get them the money before Friday, they're going to kill him. Nick turns to glare at Nick, who knows what's coming next, and sure enough, Ziggy blurts, "I need twenty-seven hundred dollars," and takes a pull off his beer. "So?" challenges Nick. "You're a drug dealer. Go sell some fucking drugs." When Ziggy doesn't answer, Nick sadly asks, "You fucked up the package, didn't you, Zig?" Staring at the bar again, Ziggy's eyes crumple in distress. Nick lights a cigarette. Ziggy rubs his face. Finally, Nick says, "I ain't giving you the money." "They're gonna kill me," says Ziggy, without any of his usual melodrama. Nick says that he gave Aimee his money for an apartment: "Security deposit and some furniture over at Littlepages." Ziggy nods. Nick says that he doesn't have the money to give Ziggy. He doesn't sound like he thinks that using it for an apartment is a very good bargain, either.