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?