The trash bag is for the clothes you're wearing. Every stitch goes in. Jewelry, too. Spurlock will incinerate them. The towels you use, the rugs... they all go in that trash bag. Get dressed from the clothes in the garment bag.
I need you to hear me. I want you to win. Do what I say... and when you get away with this... you can go back to being the sexy, domineering bitch, that we all hate to love. Now go.
My cousin Cornell Stokes was a complex man. Conflicted, but underneath all the bluster was the soul of a musician. He was a true Harlem original. [stammers] But what about this stranger? That's the garbage. But in your media rush to anoint a savior after the explosion at Genghis Connie's, no one asked the crucial question. Who the hell is Luke Cage? You label Cornell Stokes a gangster, a thug. But as many people recently witnessed at Mount Olivet, Cornell was a repentant man dealing with his violent past. Making amends for his wrongs. He had every intention of cooperating with the police. Goddamn vigilantes who call themselves heroes, like Luke Cage, they are dangerous. They are a menace to the safety, the security, and the sanctity of our community. You know what? People have used a lot of words to describe my cousin, but one word they have never used is "coward." And only a coward would hide in the shadows and kill an innocent man. [stutters] That's it.
No, I mean Carl, Misty. "Your adversary, the devil, walks around like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour." First Peter, chapter five, verse eight. See, my daddy was a preacher. Oh, come on. Aren't you gonna beg? Not even a little bit?
Work what out? My life? [loads bullets into his gun] My mother destroying herself? Being away for so long? Nah, there's nothing left to work out. "I did not come to bring peace, but a sword." Ain't that what the great Reverend James Lucas used to scream at us? Preached peace and prosperity, every Sunday on the pulpit, but come Friday night on the sideline? Nothing but fire and brimstone. Guess he saved the sin for Saturday night like everybody else. And everybody else caught hell but you. All the world's a stage for the preacher's son, and I was a quarterback. And no matter how many passes I threw, he was all about running the ball. Because he wanted the game in your hands. [Luke steps out into the orchestra section, right below Diamondback, up in the balcony] Hello, Carl.
The crimes you went to jail for? The torture you endured once you were inside? All me! I'm afraid. Well, not Reva's death. I just like saying her name just to watch you squirm.
