Episode 4: Badlands. Air Date: Aug. 21, 2005
Screen caps of this episode
HERE

Recap of this epsiode:


Lots of smoke, squealing tires. Cole in his black truck with Thumper, chasing an old Mustang down the highway.
Cole: “Hey Eddie?… Follow me.”
Lee on his radio in another car: “Yes sir.” Gives a few directions to Latin Boy who sneers.
More chasing.
Cole: “Any ideas?”
Lee: “None that don’t involve a fatal warning shot.”
Cole: “Bump ‘em.”
Lee, to Latin Boy: “Bump ‘em.”
But Latin Boy doesn’t want to bump ‘em. It’ll hurt his pretty ride.
Lee: “What about your commitment to the job?”
Latin Boy: “I’m committed to the resale value of my vehicle.”
Lee: “You make me sick.” (Us too! Us too!)
Cole hears the commotion: “You getting along?”
Lee: “Yeah… we’re thinking of adopting a kid.”

But the romance is short lived. ‘Cause bad guy chucks his squealing poodle out the window.
Lee: “I’d rather kick my mother than hurt an animal.”
Latin Boy: “You’re so deep.”
Lee: “Shut up.” (Yeah, what he said.)

More footage for the male demographic: Screeching tires, Mustang blowing through a fence, good guys speeding after onto a dock. Mustang veers – headed straight for Lee’s ride.
Latin Boy: “He’s gonna stop, right?”
Lee, bailing: “Sure he is.” And the car T-bones Latin Boy’s SUV. Resale value: Nada.

Guns drawn. Out of the car! And out comes this pitiful, sweaty disgusting tweaker, murmuring apologies. All that effort for him? Seems he’s Cole’s informant, set up with buy money. Literal guy that he is he bought – for himself. Now he’s high with the evidence still in his pants. But they’re not his drugs, or his pants. Cole threatens him with gen pop – or, as they call it in the post-Oz world nowadays, “G.P.”

Meanwhile, Latin Boy is bummed about his ride.
To Lee: “You know you don’t have to say anything.”
But he does. Lee, very snarky: “Look at it this way. Now you’ve got a nice planter for your yard.”

Headquarters. Tweaker’s nearly passed out on the table as Cole questions him. He got $1,000 for a buy. Did he make the buy? Did he snort the buy? (What do you think?) Tweaker tells a sad tale – about going to his six-year-old’s class and puking. Now I’m puking, particularly when Cole continues to play social worker and ends up getting an “I love you man” from the tweaker. Here’s what Cole wants: Owen Vickers, bad guy number 88. And we flash to a biker badass, shooting, beating, whipping a cop. (Yep, tweaker’s gonna rat on him). But Tweaker doesn’t live a multiple choice life anymore or so Cole says. After a little too much bonding, he buys it. Gives up that Vickers hangs at Suaro Cantina. In return, Cole lets him sleep on Lee’s bed (Once again, on the bottom bunk)
Lee: “He wets my bed, I’m beating him.”
Thumper: “How would you know if it’s him or you?”

Command central, they’re tossing around ideas. Bull gives a speech about biker etiquette and Latin Boy reminds them four years ago Vickers chopped up an FBI agent and sent his parts to Washington – all except for his right hand. Pussy that he is, Latin boy has now turned into Ghandi; wants to wait it out, watch for Vickers.
Lee: “What if he keeps killing and ovenighting body parts?” (Atta boy. Let’s go bash some heads).
Mouse agrees with Latin Boy. (‘Cause she’s a real pussy.) But Cole disagrees. They’re bashing heads. Or, as he so articulately put it, “hunting the asshole.”

Biker bar. Lots of leather, long hair and tattoos but apparently not enough Corona (Isn’t that beer from the 80s?) Cole harasses the bartender who grabs him by the throat. Then hell breaks loose and assholes fly. Bartender ends up in the alley, nursing a burnt hand and rolling on Fat Johnny, Vicker’s cook.

Somewhere in the tiring domestic bliss story arc, Cole gets served with divorce papers. He acts like he’s surprised.

Back at headquarters. Lee in his black wifebeater is benching what looks like close to 200 pounds. (Any 200 pounders wish they were the bar?) He’s got just enough pumped muscle and skin sweat to divert from the dialogue. Something about working out with Cole. But Cole’s not interested, too wrapped up in thoughts of slutty mama.
Lee’s upbeat: “I think I met her man.”
Cole: “Who?”
Lee: “The fourth ex-Mrs. Drake.”
Cole: “What happened to that – Giselle you had working at the bar?”
Lee: “I had to put her on waivers. I was deep in that position and the least amount of lip… sends ‘em packing.”
Cole: “You go into a relationship expecting to lose?”
Lee: “Yeah, why not? I have no paternal instinct. I have a crazy libido. I’m no good to anyone I the long run.” (One less wife and it’d be a biography.)
Cole: “I don’t know why I thought talking to you would make me feel better.”
Cole spills it about divorce papers. Lee offers to “spot” him but Cole says he’s good. Good and nauseating as he pictures slutty mama on her wedding day. Next!

Dirt road in the middle of nowhere. Cole’s educating Lee on the hazards of meth cooks: They sample, don’t sleep, hallucinate, cut their kids’ heads off.
Lee: “What a lovely drug.” (As he’ll soon find out.)

Rattletrap house, junkers out front. Lee in Kevlar creeps with Cole around back. Lee tries the door, knocks then kicks it in. “Police!” There’s a meth lab in the kitchen. “We want to talk to you!” Lee trips, falls on his face on a floor filled with snakes. He bolts. Smart boy. The Cooker busts through the front door, trounces Cole. Lee jumps on him, gets his neck in a headlock. Cooker tries to buck him. Lee holds on like he’s riding a bronco. Cole works the midsection but he’s useless and cooker bats him away. “Sonofabitch!” Lee finally rides him to the ground.

Lots of panting. Lee, channeling Danny Glover in “Lethal Weapon”: “I’m getting too old for this shit.”
They drag Fat Johnny toward the car.
Lee: “Fat Johnny ain’t fat but he sure is heavy.”

A bar. Cole sits, staring at the hard stuff and pictures of his kids. A perky bartender on a manhunt comments on his family and his teeth (she buying a horse?) then asks a bunch of personal questions. She smells a nearly-single man and she’s going for it. Gives him all kinds of advice about pain. (Wish she could give me some – like about how to convince Jorge to stop with these domestic scenes.) Good – someone heard me. He gets a page.

Headquarters. DA’s in his office, looking like the wicked witch. There’s lots of nasty banter. She’s mad because Cole didn’t get a warrant before they gang-banged Fat Johnny. (WHAT? Things got slashy and I missed it?) More banter, another flashback of Cole’s domestic past before they’re done.

Pan around the warehouse. The gang’s all there. Cole’s decided to call a sacrificial lamb from his heard. Mouse pipes up. Not her – no way she’s gonna slut up as a stripper whore. (Like anybody asked.)
Latin Boy: “Like you could pull that off anyway.” (She can’t even pull off a simple line of dialogue.)
Cole wants Eddie. (Me too!) They’ll establish him as the new guy in town who’s got dope and needs a distributor. The boys are back-up just in case he blows it (Not gonna happen.)
Lee: “It’s not gonna happen.”
But Bull’s gonna micro-chip him like a dog just in case.

Lee: “I’m gonna need money, drugs, and a bike.”
Thumper: “And how’s that different from your every day?”

Police property office. Clerk smacks down 1 kilo of pure meth, weighing 1000 grams – just in case Lee decides to snort it – and $1,000.

Don’s auto. Lee and Cole survey the bikes.
Lee: “There’s no way I’m riding into Dodge on a sushi scooter… They would pull a pink sock on me in a heartbeat.”
Cole: “What’s a pink sock?”
Lee: “You couldn’t handle the description of a pink sock.”
Then he sees it – a black, Harley low-rider – and it’s love.
Lee: “There she is.” He straddles it, fondles the high chrome handle bars. (The sight of him straddling anything says to me: Rewind.)
Lee, looking pensive: “But all that bullshit aside – cover my back on this, OK? I don’t want to be a hero.” (A little vulnerability from our bad boy. Me likey.)
Cole: “We’ll take care of you.” (After your prowess with the Cooker, I’m a little worried.)

Headquarters. Nice shot of Lee’s crotch in tight leather pants, shades hanging from his waist. He’s standing there in my daddy’s undershirt (only he don’t look like my daddy). Bull’s got a big needle poised at his delt.
Lee: “This gonna hurt?”
Bull: “Oh yeah.” But if he goes missing, they can hunt him down like a stolen Jaguar made by Ford.
Big jab. “Mother! Sonofabitch!” Yep. It hurt. But now he’s chipped and on the move.

Montage of Bad-Ass Lee – the pants, the wifebeater, the leather jacket and shades. And, oh yeah, the funky penis helmet that would make anyone else look like a dick head. Shots of him riding, lounging against a building with every muscle rippling, chatting up beer-bellied guys in tattoos and looking right at home. Some nice choppy jump shots of him holding court, then zooming into –

Headquarters. Cole and his merry band are waiting. A sheriff’s deputy’s been kidnapped. Lee’s gotta push up his meeting with Vickers at some strip club called Bandits. Now, it’s not an arrest issue – it’s a rescue.
Cole: “Eddie, you gotta make him fall in love.” (Like that'll be a problem...)

Night. I’ll spare you the details of another male bonding moment with Thumper over – yes, you guessed it, Le Divorce. It hurts so bad. It drags so bad. It’s ruining the show. Just cut the shit and bring on the silicone!

Strip club. (Yippee.) Lee’s in his element, surrounded by naked asses, pussies on poles. More shots of long legs gyrating on platform shoes. A twitchy guy comes in, very gay with very highlighted hair. (Dude, you’re in the wrong bar!) But he sits with Lee and tells him he’s Little Steven. (Not exactly the best pick-up line for a guy.) Lee is Dean. (Dean! What Dean do we know who’d be sitting in a bar filled with G-strings?) Twitchy says he hears Lee’s got product to sell.

Lee: “Product? What – you been watching Miami Vice reruns all day? Where’s your leisure suit, Asshole?” Lee’s new in town with 40-pounds of meth to unload and no contacts. He wants Owen Vickers. Twitchy wants meth. Lee gives him a little sample, then slams him down on the table for good measure.

Lee: “I promise I’ll hunt you if you don’t come back.”

Outside. Cole and Mouse are in the car, bonding. Cole’s from Chicago. His mom left his drunken asshole father. Mouse is from Miami. Her father was a frustrated, assaultive whoremonger. (Who gives a shit? I’m headed for the fridge.)

Back at the bar, Lee’s watching yet another blond hump a pole, thinking, This gig ain’t so bad.

Headquarters. Everyone waiting around the monitors. Latin Boy suggests they say the locator broke and lose Lee on purpose. (Anyone want to kill him now?) Thumper wants to know why Latin Boy hates Lee.
Latin Boy: “He’s a show-off braggart asshole.” (And Lee says Jorge wrote this part just for him? Hmmm…)
Thumper points out we tend to hate in others what we despise in ourselves. (Stupid, out-of-character philosophical line, but at least it shut him up).

Bar bathroom. Lee’s done peeing. (Now if this were Oz we’d have had a good screencap). He rounds the corner to wash his hands (good boy) and Vickers is standing there.
Lee: “Who the hell are you?”
Vickers: “The guy you’re looking for. I hate that feeling when someone says they’re looking for me.” Wondering if he’s a cop or competition, makes him all dopey and weird. (Yeah, that’s what did it.)
Lee: “I didn’t come here hat in hand. I’m not wired…” Flashes that beautiful belly. “…Or armed” (Rewind. Rewind. Rewind.) “I’m here to make some money…” (Go back in the bar. Get up on the platform and grab a pole.) “… that’s why I thought you’d show up.”

But Vickers wants him to “do a flash.” (Seems the belly wasn’t enough.)
Lee: “Why?”
Vickers pulls a gun. ‘Cause he wants to make sure Lee’s not DEA, FBI, LAPD or sheriff. Then they’ll talk about getting rich.
Lee whistles. “All you had to do was ask.” He snorts a line. “Happy?”
Vickers snorts a line. He’s happy.
Lee hawks some dope into the sink on the way out.

Back in the club, Lee sidles up to a stripper who’s lap-sitting. Vickers hands him a disposable phone. Lee’s draped across the stool in those tight leather pants and that big (AC/DC?) beltbuckle… Just a little sheen of sweat…right… Oh yeah – there was dialogue here. Missed it. Something about a drug buy.

Bar. Yet another maudlin scene with Cole. (Enough already!) The bartender’s practically draped in Cole’s lap, still whining about his wife. He’s just so freakin’ interesting. And she’s Dr. Laura. Fast-forward…

Headquarters. Lee’s sitting on his bike. Cole hands him the phone and says Bull won’t be able to trace it. They’ll have to move in fast.
Lee: “Yep.” He still looks ripped.
Cole: “You look like crap.”
Lee: “Really? You think?”
Cole: “You still blazin’ from the bump you took last night?”
Lee: “Yes, I am…. I tried to spit out as much as a I could, but I still want to die…. This drug’s crazy bad. My heart’s exploding and I haven’t eaten…”
Cole: You had no choice, right? (He’s gotta ask? Are the writers hinting Lee might’ve had a drug problem in a former life?)
Lee snorts, climbs on the bike.
Lee: “In a further effort to bury my law enforcement career, I got whacked on tina just for shits and giggles? You asshole, I was staring down the barrel of a 45. ”
Cole: “You gonna be able to handle this when it goes down?”
Lee: “Don’t worry, I’ll hand it.” (Asshole. Now they got me saying the writer’s favorite word.)

Lee speeds away as Bull arrives. Tweaker’s dead in his apartment with his 6-year-old standing over him. Gun shot to the head. Flashback of Tweaker hugging Cole, saying he loves him. (Barf.) Phone rings – they’re on the move to a phone booth at Hind and Wyandotte.

Lee at a phone booth. Vickers calls. Wants him to leave the bike but Lee says no – it cost $30,000 and he’ll be buried with it. He keeps the bike. Rides it to a junkyard where he’s greeted by Twitchy and Vickers, and the FBI agent’s hand in a pickle jar.

Vickers: “Hey Bro.”
Lee: “Bro…”
He starts feeling Lee up. (Volunteers?)
Twitchy, sweeping him with a metal detector: “He’s clean.” (I’d watch Twitchy if I were Lee.)
Vickers hugs him. Lee hugs back.
Lee: “I got 40 pounds of pure crystal meth. Burns so clean there’s no odor. You can smoke it in church.”
Vickers needs more proof. It’s blood-in and blood-out if you’re dealing with him. And now we see the blood-out part: The hog-tied sheriff’s deputy, face covered, begging for his life.
Lee: “Shut up you pussy… Give me a gun.”
More begging.
Lee punts him in the head. “I said shut your hole.”
Vickers: “Bro. You’re hard core.”
Lee: “Whatever. Just let me blow this piece of shit away so we can get on with our business.”
Vickers starts to give him the gun, throws it to Twitchy in exchange for the wand. The wand beeps over the tracking device.
Vickers: “What’s this?”
Lee: “Bullet – yet to be removed.” (Quick thinking. That’s our boy.)

The action explodes. Good guys shooting up old cars, head butts, wrestling, Lee beating Vickers with the wand. More gunfire. Cole airholes Twitchy, while Lee chokes Vickers into submission. Lee, panting, throws his long hair back and uncovers the human football.
Lee, to the deputy: “You alright?”
Deputy: “Yeah. Are you the guy that kicked me?”
Lee, contrite: “I am.”
Deputy: “Thank you.” (Kick me, beat me, I won’t even squeal.)
Cole: “Nice work there, Dean.” (Now tell me, could Dean have really done all that?)

Bar. (UGH!) The bartender’s making her move: “Well – I’m off. Wanna get a bite…” (…of me?) Sure, no prob. Cole’s game. It’s been a whole week since he banged slutty mama on the lawn. And off they go.

Back at the warehouse. Lee’s rolling out in his Charger.
Cole’s outside.
Cole: “Stuff wear off yet?”
Lee: “Yeah, finally. Thank God. Wanna go get a beer or something?” (Out with the meth, in with the alcohol).
Cole’d rather sulk.
Lee: “You good?”
Cole: “Not really.”
Lee: “I’m sorry about what you’re going through.” (Like he can relate. Next!)
Cole: “Thanks.”
Then Lee’s forced to deliver this really dumb line, so out of character for a guy like Drake: “You know what Churchill said: When you’re going through hell, keep going.” (Beyond bad. Poor Lee.)
Then he’s redeemed: “Let’s go get loaded and hang out together.” (Now that’s more like it.)
Cole: “Can’t. Waitin’ on a jump.” (She must’ve been really bad if he forgot already.) “Battery’s dead.”
And that’s it. Lee drives off. A bit awkward as endings go, punctuated by a flashback of Cole in a red car going in his house then a shot of him looking tortured. Oh well…he could always kill slutty mama and skip the divorce…

THE END