Oz, Season Six

Arnold "Poet" Jackson:
Yo, what'd you call me? Yo, fuck you, you greasy old bitch.

Burr Redding:
Hey, Poet.

Arnold "Poet" Jackson:
Oh, what you think? I don't know where 122 Wayne Street is? Think again, bitch.

Burr Redding:
What the fuck's wrong with you, son?

Arnold "Poet" Jackson:
Man, she said she wasn't about to give up her credit card number to some strange spook. How the fuck did she even know I was black?

Burr Redding:
That's irrelevant. You hang up and calmly move on to the next call.

Arnold "Poet" Jackson:
No, man, fuck that, I ain't putting my pride on the line so some bullshit Senator can get re-elected.

Burr Redding:
Well, in that case, you're fired.

Arnold "Poet" Jackson:
What?

Burr Redding:
You heard me. Carry your lazy ass and that bad attitude off the premises! Move it.

Arnold "Poet" Jackson:
Fuck you, Burr. Fuck you.