Tear Jerker: Bressant's speech about the time he planted evidence gets me when he gets to the part about the kid.
Bressant: Now, this place was a shithole, mind you? Rats, roaches, all over the place. But the kid's room, in the back, was spotless. No, I mean, he swept it, mopped it; it was immaculate. The little boy's sitting on the bed, holding onto his Playstation for dear life. There's no expression on his face, tears streaming down. He wants to tell me he just learned his multiplication tables. I mean, the father's got him in this crack den, subsisting on twinkies and ass-whippings, and this little boy just wants someone to tell him that he's doing a good job.