MAN: Congratulations on passing
the detective's exam and welcome
to the Special Investigation Unit.
Yeah, whoop-de-fucking-do.
We won't be working together, that is, directly.
You'll be working for Captain Ellerby,
but I like to see everybody.
You're a worker.
You rise fast.
Like a 12-year-old's dick.
Thank you, sergeant.
My pleasure.
Thank you, sir.
Good luck.
Congratulations.
Thanks, hon.
You can go in there now.
[DOOR OPENS, CLOSES]
You can sit.
[CLEARS THROAT]
So...
Do you know what we do here, my section?
Sir, yes, sir. I have an idea.
Whoa, whoa, whoa.
Let's say you have no idea
and leave it at that, okay?
No idea.
Zip, none.
If you had an idea about what we do,
we would not be good at what we do,
would we?
We would be cunts.
You calling us cunts?
Staff Sergeant Dignam has a style of his own.
I'm afraid we all have to get used to it.
So...
you got family connections
down in Southie, right?
Through your father?
Why don't you tell us about your Uncle Jackie?
He was a carpet layer for Jordan Marsh.
Uncle Jackie was a small-time bookie
who tended bar at the Vets in Somerville.
He got popped by Nicastro in '95.
We found his body out by the airport.
That's right.
I remember his funeral.
Well, good.
Closed casket?
That's right.
So...
tell anybody up at Deerfield--
Before you got kicked out
for whaling on a teacher with a chair.
--how your uncle met his demise like that?
I got a question.
How fucked up are you?