All language subtitles for Accident.Man.Hitmans.Holiday.2022.1080p.WEB-DL.DD5.1.H.264-EVO

No, no, you're not wrong.

That really is
a maniacal killer clown

trying to smash my head in
with a brick on a stick.

So how did I find myself
in this situation? You ask.

Well, for that...
I'm gonna need to take you back.

You ever been on holiday

and you're just trying
to drink in some sunshine,

knock back a beer or 12,

only to have your own little
slice of Shangri-la drowned out

by a gyrating colony
of gurning pillheads?

Well, I have.

I blame those iPod shuffling
DJ dickheads like this one here.

Can I have some noise?

These spirals are fucking shit. Give
me something better, something bigger.

Don't think that's
a good idea, boss.

There's too much gas pressure.
It could be dan...

Do it now. DJ Remy doesn't like
to be kept waiting.

Whatever.

- We're good to go.
- The fucking time.

Who's ready for some big bands?

Can we have a liftoff?
In three, two, one...

So when this particular
DJ dickhead's promoter

decided to put
a bounty on his head

because he signed
with the competition,

I was more than happy to oblige.

Yeah, it's a dirty job.

But in case you've forgotten...

...I'm happy to get my hands

bleeding filthy
for the right price.

And if there's one thing
I think we can all agree on,

is that some arseholes
really do deserve to die.

Needed to keep my head down
after what happened back in London.

So I grabbed my fake passports, and dicky
credit cards, rode straight to Heathrow

and hopped on the first flight
to anywhere,

which turned out to be Malta,

which was great for a bit
of the old soul searching.

I've got to confess, though,

I was a bit pissed off
when I found out

that Maltesers
weren't even from here,

and they don't even
bleedin' sell 'em...

This is Malta!

...which is bullshit.

But, that aside, I bloody love
this little Mediterranean jam.

The sun always shines.
The beer flows freely.

And with the Middle East, Europe,
and North Africa just a puddle jump away,

I can bump someone off in Dubai,

and be back home
before match of the day starts.

Oh, okay.

I had a feeling
it was going to be tonight.

So let's fucking have it!

Good. Yeah.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, Jesus Christ,

it's a brand new TV,
it is still okay! Hold it!

Still got eight episodes
of Bake Off to watch.

- Hiyah!
- Flamingo!

Flamingo, flamingo!

Jesus Christ, Siu-ling!

You're paid to smash me up,
but not the apartment.

I mean, look at the state of
this place. It's a rotten mess.

You need to say
the safe word sooner

if you want me to stop.
You think I can read

your mind or something?

You stupid!

This is Siu-ling.

Now she might look pretty sweet
and innocent at first glance.

But, as you can see, she's got some
serious anger management issues,

and a right bloody sting
in her tail.

Add to this, she's probably

the best martial artist
I've ever tangled with.

Hey, get off me!

I first met her when she was

a waitress
at the local dive bar.

Now, apparently, she grew up

on the main streets of Hong Kong

and is a descendant
of the great Wong Fei-hung.

Skilled in more martial disciplines
than I've had hot dinners.

If she gets out of the wrong
side of bed in the morning,

there's no telling
what damage she's capable of.

Excuse me.

How much they're
paying you here?

Wanna a raise?

I don't speak Cantonese.

What are you saying?
Say it in English.

Motherfucker!

You need to speak up, Fall on.
You know the deal.

You don't say "Flamingo,"
I don't stop.

And I thought we agreed,
right, no nut shots.

Do you remember that?
Well, what did you do?

You tried to put them up into
orbit. And what else did you do?

You smashed the bleeding vase
off my pots.

Look at the bloody TV.
You're out of your mind?

Defense, you idiot! You need
to defend yourself at all times.

Don't touch me.

Well, look, you're going to have
to help me clean this place up,

because I can't do it on my own,
haven't got time...

What? You clean it yourself.

I'm not your maid. I'm not here

to clean your dirty sheets.

I come here to fight. That's it!

Now, where is my money, gweilo?

Fine.

Good, fine.

Probably see you middle
of next week, then, yeah?

Maybe. Or maybe
you'll see me sooner.

You never know. Bye-bye.

I gotta be honest. I
lost my fair share of sleep

over what I did
to my mates back in England.

I sometimes wonder if me taking
a weekly kicking from Siu-ling

isn't just another training session
and more like me paying penance

for all that guilt
I'm holding on to.

Get the fuck out of my pub.

Ah, well, that
was then. This is now.

I'm better off alone anyway.

It's me, myself,
and fucking I from now on.

No mates, no birds,

no disgruntled assassin
father figure,

and no one to let me down
or get in my way.

- Just leave.
- Let go of me!

Ge... get his legs.

Someone... Leave me alone!

Fred?

Fry tonight!

Shit.

Looks like
you pissed down the wrong alley, Fred.

Mike! What are you doing here?

- I think you're right.
- Come on.

Oh!

Lucky you turned up
when you did.

- I was just about to do the other two.
- Yeah, looked like it.

So why don't you tell me
what you're doing in the middle

of Malta, Fred?
Setting people on fire?

Oh, did you clock that cheeky
little gizmo I came up with?

- Yeah, it was all right, that.
- That meat head got toasted.

Yeah. Then the other two started
kicking the shit out of you.

Very smooth that was, mate. So
what are you doing back there?

Getting handsy
with the birds or something?

No, nothing like that.

I was looking for someone.

Looking for someone?
Eh, you're looking for me.

- Did Big Ray send you?
- No!

I didn't even know
you was here. I...

- Don't you be lying to me, Fred.
- No, for good.

I, I don't speak
to Big Ray no more.

Nobody does.

- Ain't you heard?
- Heard what?

Ray lost the Oasis.

No one wanted to hire us after
you killed Milton and all the others.

It's funny,
but people stop calling

when your firm gets a reputation

for lobbing off the heads
of its clients.

Don't guilt trip me on that one.
All right, Fred?

Pete and Milton had it coming.

And, well, the rest of them

didn't give me much choice,
did they?

You... you could have handled it
a little bit better.

Probably right.

- So Big Ray must be fuming then, yeah?
- Well, you could say that.

I don't know where your head
was at that time,

but I think I'm beginning
to understand it a bit better.

Mike...

...I have fallen in love.

- You what?
- Yes.

I'm in love. I met this girl.

She's the most beautiful girl
in the world.

She's like an angel.

Her name is Leylo.

Oh.

Pretty. Where'd you meet her?

Well, that's it. Technically,
I haven't actually met her yet,

but we've been chatting online.

Internet, Fred.
My God, you have changed.

Yeah. Finally plucked up
the courage to go online

and Leylo emails me back
the very next day.

Oh, just out of the blue
like that, was it?

Well, that's
how love works, right?

It's a scam, mate.

That's what Big Ray said,
and you're both wrong.

It's a bloody scam. I bet she
asked you for money, didn't she?

- What makes you say that?
- Because it's a bleedin' scam, you dope.

Tell me you
didn't give her any, please.

Oh, you bloody well did,
didn't you? You stupid tit.

All right, come on.

We've got to get you out of
there before the cops turn up.

Eh, downstairs, mate.

We've got the games room,
Jacuzzi down there,

bedrooms over there,

foosball, pool, satellite TV,

all you need.

Lovely, Mike.

You always did like nice,
shiny things.

Ah, you know me, mate.
I'll tell you what, though.

You should have seen it the other
day. It was a right bloody mess.

God, I really need to invest
in a sponge coffee table.

[And shrieks]

Shitzer, this ain't the time.

What the hell?
You brought backup.

- Stop it!
- Argh!

I will kill you.

Flamingo! Flamingo!

Argh!

Flamingo!

Jesus Christ.

Hasn't been a week already,
has it? Aah.

No, but you did
so poorly last time,

I thought you needed
extra training.

Thankfully, just a coffee table

was the only casualty this time.

Oh! And you're a guest,
eh, Fred?

What the bloody hell
is going on?

Who is this?

Siu-ling, this is
my old mate, Fred.

Fred, meet Siu-ling.

Oh, sorry. I, I thought he
brought you in to even up the odds.

Nice to meet you, Fred.

I'm a bit confused here.

Is she a mate
or is she trying to kill you?

A little bit of both actually.

Um, Siu-ling helps me decompress

after a decent shift,
if you know what I mean.

Fall on is a good martial artist.

He trains with me
and I make him better.

Look, uh,

me and Fred have got a bit
of catching up to do,

so, um, I'll tell you what,

call that one a draw, and I'll see
when it's time for the next ruck, yeah?

Sorry about your face, Fred.

Oh, that's all right.

Nice to meet you.

See you.

Listen,
you can stay here tonight

'cause the police are
probably scouring the streets

looking for a little pudgy
specky tosser

with the pocket flame thrower.

But, after that, you're gone.

There's no need
to be like that, Mike.

I'm looking for Leylo, my lover.

- And I could really do with your help.
- She's a scam, mate, right?

She's a scam which only lonely bastards
like you fall for. How much did you pay her?

Fifty grand, give or take.

Fifty grand, you stupid twit!

She needed it for the visas

and the plane tickets.

She got on a flight from Haiti,

and she hasn't been seen since,

until one of my old stool pigeons
saw her in a club over here.

Luckily, you were there
to help me out.

Lucky, my asshole, mate. I get the
feeling that this is a bad bleedin' omen.

An omen is somewhere in between
opportunity and wisdom, Michael.

Look, I ain't got time
for this, all right?

I'm behind on a job, and I,
I need to get my head around it.

Well, let me have a butchers.

A problem shared
is a problem halved.

I might be able to help you out.

Meet Mr. McEllif.

A self-professed hermit.

Never leaves the house,
nor day or night,

but he does, however,
water his lovely flowers

once a day at noon without fail.

Didn't take Fred long to tap
into his high-tech security system.

Let's see if this works.

Bleedin' hell!

That couldn't have gone
any better.

Did you see the way his head
bounced along, along my balls?

Oh, mate, that was exquisite.

Cheers! It's great
to be back in the saddle again.

- Hmm.
- So, anything else in the pipeline that you need me?

- Well...
- Hang on a minute, Fred.

I didn't say you could stay.

But we make a good team.

Well, I've been
pretty busy lately.

You know what, it turns out
there's more people

that need killing
in this corner of the world

than I can keep up with.

So I can stay then, Mike.

How could I
mind? I mean, look at him.

I wouldn't trust most people
as far as I could frame,

but Fred's as honest
as the day is long.

Well, as honest
as any killer can be.

- All right. You can stay, for a bit.
- Yes!

And don't you
be telling Big Ray.

- Of course not.
- 'Cause you know what's going to happen

if he finds out
we're working together again.

- He wouldn't be happy, would he?
- No.

All right, cool.
It looks like you're gonna have

to get your test pilot cap
on again, mate,

because you're gonna need
to sing for your supper.

- How about poison nuts?
- Mm.

Here we go then, mate.

Yes.

Flamingo! Flamingo!

I need to get
some sleep, don't I?

I can't believe
I'm going to say this,

but for the first time,
in a very long while,

if you saw my face, you might
actually think I was happy.

Life was turning out
to be pretty sweet.

Having Fred around was decent.

We were as thick
as thieves again,

and taking down marks like
they were going out of fashion.

Come on. Just
think of that lovely, happy tingling.

Oh, fuck!

Please, no, Mike.
You cut up on a bit of fun.

I thought I was gonna
actually have to chug him.

He was a very good
kisser, though.

With business booming, and
Fred wanting to test his new game plan

somewhere a bit more private,
we found a nice little pad,

decided to drop
a few quid on an HQ.

Well, kind of.

This is the shambles,
as Fred started calling it

after one too many failed test
runs, which was apt really,

because it's also an English
term for a slaughterhouse.

- This is our lab...
- I think we're rolling.

...where he trials
all of his new techniques

and where I can have
a bash of seeing

if they're actually going
to work in the real world.

Come on, Fred.

Oh, yes! Yes!

Whoa, what a shot!

Nice one, mate.

- Ready?
- I'm ready.

Three, two, one...

Give yourself a bit... Move back.

- All right. Ready, then?
- Yeah.

Three, two, one. Go.

Ooh! Oh!

Ooh.

Oh, shit.

Blow it out, Fred.

Fred, the fire extinguisher's
back here.

Fred, there's
a fire extinguisher.

Just get out of the way!
Move out of the way!

Whoa-ho!

I told you there was
a fire extinguisher over there.

You want to set
the whole place on fire?

Her tits are hanging out.

Oh, yeah.

Yeah, I think that's it.

Yeah?

Filming then, Fred? Yeah?

Ready? This is how you separate
the men from the boys.

Three, two, one

Oh, fuck me.

Now, why is it not working?

The flame's on.
Why is it not working?

Might be all
right on bonfire night,

but as an accident.

Oh, shut up, Fred.

Flipping hell. I'm gonna have
to find the receipt now.

You could always
use it to strip paint.

Fuck off!

One, two,

three...

I told you it wasn't gonna work.

No pain, no gain, eh, mate.

I don't understand it.

I calibrated
that trigger perfectly.

It's slapdash, Fred, right,
like, most of the things

you come up with.
Some of them are good.

Most of them, like this one
over here, they're shit.

It's like those suits over
there. Be honest with me, Fred.

You really think
that they're going to work?

They will work.

I've whittled the detonating
cable down to a fine thread,

and put it into the seams.

I put C4 flakes in the lining,

a blasting cap
in one of the buttons,

and a receiver
in the other button.

- So you have to do is dial it in...
- Fred.

- ...and boom.
- Fred, it's not gonna work, okay?

It's not going to get the yield. It's
gonna singe him a little bit at best.

Come on. Please.

Wait a minute.

I think we got a job coming in.

Oh, yeah?

Wha...

Have a butchers.

Reject that right now.

Why?

Never bite the hand
that feeds you, mate.

And what hand might that be?

You ever heard of the Zuuzer?

- No.
- No? Well, you bloody well should have done.

Mean as fuck.

Old Testament. Cosa Nostra.

Headed up by some nutbag witch

with a reputation
as severe as a hairline.

Proper wrath
of Hades stuff that, mate.

So a mix of Cosa Nostra
and ancient Greek.

- Don't sound ideal to me.
- No, it ain't, but, uh,

pays the bills, doesn't it?
See that lad there?

That is Mrs. Zuuzer's
reprobate kid.

Mm. Talk about making
a rod for your own back.

I'll tell you what.
Whoever accepts that job

has got brass balls
bigger than their brains.

I'd be surprised
if anyone touches that.

So you want me
to reject it then?

Absolutely. Get rid of it.

Flamingo. Flamingo.

Coffee, Fred?

Oh, yes, please.

Can I have one as well?

Did that sort out
your post murder tension?

You know something?

We'd get a lot more jobs done

if you didn't have to have
a ruck after every shift.

Can't you just crack one out
and be done with it?

I tried that, though,
Fred, it doesn't work.

I spit in yours.

Ow.

Thanks.

Pretty girl.

She's the love
of my life, Siu-ling.

She's gone missing.

Missing? Where?

I wish I knew.

Then she wouldn't be missing.

I had a friend like her.
She went missing too.

But she eventually turned up working
in some dirty sex club against her will.

That would never happen to me.

A friend of mine thought
he saw her in a place like that.

I know someone
who helps girls like that.

I will ask around -Really,
Siu-ling? That would be brilliant.

Her name is Leylo,

- and she is...
- A bleedin' scam is what she is.

Oh, bollocks!

I will help if I can, Fred.

Thanks, Siu-ling.

- Nice one.
- See you later, pok kai, guys.

You let her beat you
up then, yeah?

Nah, nah, she's legit, mate,
right? Eyes in the back of her head.

And she knows about eight
different forms of animal kung fu.

It's like having
a scrap in a zoo.

You are allowed to forgive
yourself, you know that.

- What?
- For what happened in London.

You're carrying all that guilt.

You wanna let go of it.

Otherwise you'll drown in it.

Uh, I'll tell you what.

The only thing I'm guilty of
is being stupid enough

to get back
into business with you.

- If that rubber ducky here doesn't pay off...
- It'll work.

Yeah? Well, make sure it does,
'cause we're leaving in an hour.

It's all primed and ready to go.

Good.

Miserable bastard.

- Hello.
- Evening, sir.

Sorry to bother you. I,
I was just wondering if you knew

in which city
King Edgar of England

was crowned back in 973 A.D.

What the fuck was that?

Ow. What the...
the bloody hell's going on?

Where are we?

So you are the famed

Accident Man?

No, mate.

I think you might have me
confused with somebody else.

Where were you
last Thursday night?

Last Thursday night...

Oh, yeah, that's right.

Watching your mom try not
to swallow a tongue, I think.

You fucking mule!

We made you and your
knickyknacky very wealthy.

Show some respect.

Knickyknacky?

Jesus Christ, mate.
Is that all you've got?

Okay.

- This is fun to you, no?
- Yeah, it's pretty funny, mate,

'cause you hit
like a bleedin' Teletubby.

There you go, mate. That's it.

Get stuck in,
why don't you? Come on!

Enough
with this toxic masculinity.

We know exactly who you are,

since one of my loyal soldiers
sacrificed himself

so that we may draw you out.

Hang on a minute.

You let one of your
own team members die

just to get a face-to-face
with me?

I'm flattered.

I have to hand it to you both.

That bathtub ploy was ingenious.

Oh, you liked that, yeah?

Fred's idea that was.

Quite innovative.

Just another day
at the office, Mrs...

Zuuzer.

Oh, fuck. Mike?

- Wrath of Hades.
- That's right, mate. Yeah.

I take it
by your friend's palpitations

that you are aware
of our reputation.

We know who you are.

Good for you.

And how about
this little gentleman?

Do you know who he is?

Spoiled little runt
by the looks of it.

Unfortunately,
you are not far from the truth.

This is my son Dante.

He was raised well,

educated in the finest schools,

tutored in the ways
of the world.

But with all that behind him,
he still managed to spiral

into this pathetic
drug-addled delinquent mess

you see before you now.

- I love you too, Mama.
- Quiet!

So you two
have never seen him before?

Never.

Dante has decided

to rinse his premium breeding,

and doors I've opened
for him into the gutter,

all in the name of following
some quixotic dream

of becoming a pop star.

Something he is adamant
he can achieve,

even though he has
the voice of a snared animal.

Mama, how dare you?

Quiet! Or I'll have you
gagged and whipped.

Every night
he defies me, getting paralytic,

snorting cocaine
out of whores' backsides,

and raping everyone's ear drums.

To salt the wounds of all
of his filthy dispositions,

Dante also smokes.

It was that vulgar addiction,
which last week proved problematic.

Dante's team escorts him
outside the karaoke bar

every 12 minutes,
so he may poison his lungs

along with the rest
of his eroding innards.

I told you smoking would be
the death of you, didn't I?

Yeah, well,
before you said it was

when I kept kissing
the cat on the mouth.

This...

...was no accident.

Although it was played out
to look like one.

Something of your speciality.

Our people look into it.

They tell us the gas pipe
was tampered with in that sewer.

Wasn't me.

That job did come in, but,

- but we rejected it.
- Yeah, we did.

Was it last Thursday, you say?

We got an alibi.

That was your birthday,
wasn't it, mate?

- Twenty-one again.
- That's right.

Actually, I think we were in
one of your clubs, to be honest.

Your security cameras
can probably clear us.

Coincidence, huh?

What's the name
of that club again, Fred?

The Sparkling Clap.

Sparkling Clown.
That was it. Yeah.

Even sounds like
a bloody yeast infection.

You know the one, the one with
the big heifer singing on the stage.

Your missus, I'm guessing

Ow.

You all right, mate?

Hurt yourself, did you?
Bloody hell.

You really are
all flash and no bash.

So I guess that puts you
in the clear.

- I think so, yeah.
- For now.

It would seem that a spineless
corporate CEO out of Scandinavia

has put out
a contract on my son.

We never thought anyone
would be stupid enough to.

And since you are
a very capable contractor,

only someone like you would have the
skills to find out who this assassin is.

I need you to hunt down
whoever that may be,

and I want you to kill them.

I'd rather lick
a crackhead's scabby elbow.

Very well. If you do not,
we will kill your friend.

What?

Go on, kill him then.
I don't give a shit.

Don't test my resolve,
Mr. Fall on.

- Oh, please crack on. I couldn't care less.
- Ah.

This joke's been doing
my head in for years.

You know what?
You'd be doing me a favor.

Go on, mate, do him.

Mike! No. Why?

Armando, on tre.

Uno.

Due.

- Tre.
- All right, fine, fine. I'll do it for triple the faith.

You'll do it for his life.
This is simple.

Intercept and kill whoever is
trying to take my figlio from me,

and you can have
your concubine back.

What the fuck does that mean?

Yeah. Cheers, lads.

Much as I'd like
to cut my losses

and get the hell out of here,

I couldn't do that to Fred.

And, you know, what makes this
whole situation even more weird

is that botched hit
did have me written all over it.

What the bleeding hell
am I gonna do? I need a pint.

How'd you find me, Ray?

- Listen, Ray...
- You know what really twist my knickers?

You put your faith in a foreign
boozer, just like this one...

...who claim to serve a classic
full English breakfast...

...and they end up serving you
pig swill like this.

Take this bugger.

Yeah?

Looks decent enough.

And you trust that it's
gonna be wholesome, nutritious,

tasty as fuck.

But then you dig a little deeper
beneath the surface

and actually take a bite...

...and you realize...

...it's a treacherous,
classless, fucking let down...

...just like you.

But I'm ravenous,
so c'est la vie.

I heard that you've got a nice
little earner guy around down here.

I don't know what you mean, Ray.

Dear, Ray, I hope you're well.

I just wanted you to know
that I'm doing okay.

So no need to worry,
me and Mike.

- For fuck's sake.
- And to be fair to Fred,

he didn't actually say
where here was.

But that numpty
jots his note down on a napkin

from the Black Bull bar,
Valletta.

Oh, it's just a side thing
we got going on down there.

It's not like we're breaking
the bank or anything.

P.S. We are breaking the bank!

Well, you know what Fred's like,
right? He exaggerates.

Nothing we've got
going on down here

- is going to bother you...
- Bother me?

You having a laugh?

You have bothered me.
No, scratch that.

You fucking ruined me.

Do you think anyone would
hire us after what you did?

No need to answer that 'cause
the answer is a fucking obvious no!

You left me
with five fifths of fuck all.

And to think...

...that you had the stones
to start contracting again.

You destroyed
what took me decades to build.

For that...

...you're gonna pay.

Well, I'll pay for your
full English, then, shall I?

You're gonna pay
for more than that.

You brought me
out of retirement.

I'm actually down here
for a gig.

And the fact that here
happens to be Malta

and I can "catch up"
with me mates...

...it's actually a little
brucie bonus.

It was you, wasn't it?

Eh, that botch Zuuzer kid job?

That was you, right?

Not like you to miss, Ray.

Yeah, well,
like I said, a bit rusty.

Made mistakes
like I did back in London.

Should've just shot the cunt.

Old school.

Listen, Ray, you need to bail on
this Zuuzer kid job, right?

They thought it was me that tampered
with that gas line 'cause you tried

to make it look
like an accident.

Now they've got Fred
held hostage.

Anything happens to that kid,
they're going to kill Fred.

Well, that's not
my problem, is it?

He's your mate now, not mine.

- Come on...
- You both made that abundantly clear.

I don't know why you took
the job in the first place.

Anyway, if you've done
your due diligence,

you would've known
why we passed on it.

Why everybody fucking
passed on it.

He's the heir to the Zuuzer
family, for God's sakes.

Well, a mark's a mark,
a job's a job.

And I ain't scared of any crime
family from the arse end of nowhere.

- You should be.
- Well, I fucking ain't.

There was a time...

...when we didn't give two shits
who the mark was?

- Well, that was before your little hissy fit.
- The only thing you need

to give a shit about
right now is Mrs. Zuuzer,

'cause she will slit Fred's
throat if you don't call off this hit.

You haven't heard, have you?

- Heard what?
- Well, the client has upped the bounty by...

...fucking loads.

I ain't the sole contractor
anymore.

What are you talking about?
To who?

Everyone worth their salt.

Criminal crop just
landed on Maltese soil.

- You're fucking joking.
- Called us all in for a briefing.

I can't remember a client ever
being arrogant enough to do that.

But I guess money talks.

Pays 50 grand
just to turn up in person.

One by one, uh, step up,

load our bank details
into the computer.

It's a massive
nine million euros

to the lucky sod
who gets the job done.

That's 7,675,056 pounds sterling
in real money.

We're talking about
who would you say?

Oyumi wasn't there, was he?

Oh, he was there.

Yeah.

So, no need to kill personally
on this one, eh,

'cause Oyumi
is a bona fide fucking ninja.

If he's seen your name,
you won't see him coming.

So... looks like Fred's fucked,

because if I don't do it, you can
rest assured one of the others will.

Ray, please, you need
to help me with this one.

I ain't helping you
with fuck all.

So stay out of my way.

And when I've snuffed out
this little runt,

we'll get back
to what you owe me.

Whatever we've got going
on can wait because...

What's that?

It turns out that little twerp

has already got a fucking
tracking device on him.

Client's sending over
the link now.

So you better get
your skates on.

'Cause there's a proper game on.

You prick!

Oi, turn the music
off. Get him off the stage.

What are you doing here?

Easy, lads. I come in peace.
We're all on the same team.

But you need to get him
out of here quick.

We don't need your help,
you English prick.

Yeah, you do actually, mate, 'cause this
tone-deaf joke's got a tracking device on him.

There's a gaggle of assassins about
to turn up, kill every last one of you.

Of course he has, you idiot a.
It's in his watch.

How else do you think
we keep track of him, huh?

He had it
since he was a bambino.

Look, it's
a burning fuse now, mate.

You need to get rid of it.
Ditch it.

Oh!

Who the fuck do you think
you are, eh, dickhead?

You're the fucking hired help.

This watch, eh,
is a classic, one of a kind.

I would die
before I take it off.

So... you fucking arsehole.

- Take the watch and destroy it.
- What the fuck did I just...

- Good call.
- Who the fuck do you all think you are?

Last shot. I mean, you fucking...

Aah!

Oh! Problem is solved.

Freya Du Preeze,
the Angel of Death.

Recruited in Johannesburg
by Interpol,

and trained in the dark arts by those
who think James Bond is a Muppet.

Freeze.

You got to stop it...

- Freya.
- Fall on.

- Been a while.
- More like five years I reckon.

Russia, wasn't it?

You stole
that dirty politician from here.

I know what it's like.

First come, first served.

Hmm. I've always
respected you, Fall on.

You're a damn good assassin.

But... there was a choice
between killing you...

...or nine million in my bank.

I'm afraid
that's no choice at all.

This one's personal
to me, Freya.

So as a professional courtesy,

I'll need to ask you
to fuck off.

I can't fuck off.

But I can fuck you up.

Okay, Freya.

Really nice seeing you again.

Maybe you should call it a day,
don't you?

I see.

Jesus Christ!

Well, move
your fucking head then.

No, please! Please.

Please. Please!

Oh, fuck.

Oh, fuck!

What the fuck, what...

Oh, God.

What the fuck is going on?

Come here.

Mr. Fall on, do you have my son?

I've got him here. Pretty proper
kicked off back there,

and your entire security team
got wasted.

- Is he okay?
- Oh, he's fine. Yeah.

Apart from the fact he just
decided to swallow his own watch.

So unless I cut it out of his guts,
he's going to be a walking target

till he pinches off
his next loaf.

When was the last time
you took a shit?

None of your business, cafone.

Is that my mama?
I want to talk to her.

Mama...

I need you to protect my son
at all costs. Do you understand?

Listen, right, I ain't
a fucking babysitter, okay?

I'm a professional killer.

And with all due respect,
Mrs. Zuuzer,

your son is an absolute squats.
Me and him ain't gonna jell.

Mama, this asshole just
punched me in the face.

You don't need to get along.

You just need to neutralize
the threats and keep him alive.

You're lucky
I don't kill this prick myself.

If you ever want to see your friend
again, you won't make that mistake.

Bring him back to me
in one piece.

Do we have a deal,
Mr. Accident Man?

All right, fine.

Then it's done.

- Come here.
- What are you doing?

Take me to my mama. She's
the only one who can protect me.

Listen to me, you idiot. Your mummy
just hired me to protect you, okay?

So do as you're fucking told.

You're, you're, you, you,
you are a fucking ugly troll.

Anybody ever
tell you that, yeah?

You like a fucking melted
Ben Affleck.

I'm going to tell my mama
how you treat me.

You're going to pay
for your actions.

She knows exactly
how to treat a man like you.

And if you strike me one more...

Jesus.

What the fuck are you doing here

around the county
to buy a fucking shampoo?

Shut up!

- Laxatives. You got any?
- Yeah.

- Well, give it to me. Come on, let's go.
- Here.

- What the fuck are you doing, you...
- Shut up!

Ugh.

You... What the fuck you...

In one end, out the other,
eh, mate?

Just take me home, boy.

You call me boy one more time, I swear
to God, I'm gonna kill you myself, right?

And I'll worry about killing your old
git of a mother when the time comes.

- You understand?
- Take me to my mama!

Take me to my mama! Take...

- You got a back way out of this place?
- Yeah. There.

Come here. Let's go.

- Keep moving!
- Where's my mother?

Please, just give me
five minutes. I can't breathe.

I've got asthma
probably. Please.

- Hello, are you listening to me?
- Oh, shut up! Shut up!

Now, this is the great Yendi.

Born in Ghana, named after
the town he was abandoned in.

He sells himself
as a soddin' vampire,

but essentially
he's just a fucking butcher.

This is Freya's blood!

Most of it.

B positive.

Always try to be, pal.

Foolish boy,

B-positive is rare.

Only about eight percent,
but not the rarest.

What type are you, Rocky?

Last time I checked,
high bloody octane, mate.

Please, kill him
and my mama will make you rich.

It does not work like that.

It works the way I say it works.

- Ow!
- Stay there.

I'm looking forward
to killing him.

But I will savor that one
till I'm done with you.

- Get up.
- Fuck in...

This way. Here.

Fuck this!

Up there. Get up there.

- Get up there.
- Push me. Fuck it.

Let's do that. Push me.

- Fucking get up, you dum-dum.
- I'm fucking trying.

Push!

- Use your arms, get up.
- I'm using my arms.

Do you think I'm using my teeth?

I'm going to taste your blood.

Help! Help!

Dum-dum, where are you?

There's a fucking maniac
with an ax trying to kill me.

- Somebody get...
- Hey! Oi!

Come here.

All right, get in there.

And you stay in there
if you know what's good for you.

Look, I'm scared of this...
- It's okay.

Let me know how this tastes.

Nice and tasty?

AB negative...

...the rarest
and finest of them all.

What, me or you?

I am unique.

At less than one percent.

You are common dirty boy.

Huh.

Shall I finish you off then?

No.

Go on, then.

Off your pop.

Oh. Is he dead?

He is now.

So what now, eh?

Eh, so what are
we doing now, idiot a?

Idiot a. I guess that
that means idiot.

Why don't we put that
on the same list as "boy"?

I'm handling things. Come here.

Siu-ling, when you get this
message, I need you to do me a favor.

There's a karaoke bar off Strait
Street. I need you to pick up my bike.

This whole place was
drilled into the side of a cliff,

so these walls
are as thick as my skull.

I think it's gonna buy some time
till we figure out what to do

with that homing beacon
you swallowed.

I see.

I like what you've done
with the place.

You sit there.

Right.

That is for puke, piss, shit,

whatever else you feel
like pushing out.

Are you insane?
I'm not going in a bucket.

- I have rights.
- You lost your rights

when you decided to swallow
that classic, you dimwit.

And if you think
I'm letting you out of my sight,

you need to think again.

So anyway...

...I know your mom might think
it's irrelevant to us, laymen,

but you mind explaining to me
why five of the world's best assassins

are all lining up
to take you out?

She must have pissed off some
people in some very high places.

Do you think of my mama
ever tell me anything?

She's a tyrant
with thugs and gangsters.

So imagine what it's like
growing up with her.

It's like being raised
by a fucking scorpion.

Well, you think you had it bad?

You haven't got
a clue, mate, right?

Imagine if the bloody Terminator
was your surrogate father.

You don't know
who you're talking about.

All I know is, nobody
who ever crosses my mother,

crosses her twice.

My mother is so mean,

even the Devil
would send her soul back.

- My mother...
- My mother... Shut up!

Jesus Christ, I wish
I hadn't flaming asked.

Can I... Can I have water please?

No.

Please.

Oh, I'm not safe with you.

You are a magnet for psychos.

Oh, I'm a magnet? No, no, no.

I'm not the one
with a GPS signal

wafting out of my arsehole,
mate, that's you.

You better hope that they don't
get to me. Otherwise, your friend...

...he's going bye-bye.

Look, it's gonna be
a very long day, okay?

And I don't particularly want to
have to listen to you blathering on.

You know what? I hear that
your digestive system works

three times as fast
once you're asleep. So...

Maybe you should get some kip.

It's the middle of the day.

I'm not tired yet.

Oh, okay.

Stunning, isn't it?

It's lovely.

Fantastic...

...color palette.

Saint Anthony.

Performer of Miracles.

Ah. Oh, right.

It is believed
that back in the day

when Saint Anthony was walking
the streets of Padua,

he saw a man
fall from a tall tower.

Saint Anthony
commanded him to stop...

...and the man remained
suspended in the air.

His life was saved.

That's very interesting.

The reason I'm telling you this

is that if today

an annoying,
bespectacled little man,

were to fall
from a great height,

I don't know
if Saint Anthony would be around

to perform such a miracle.

I don't know
quite what you mean.

What she means, little man,
is that we've lost Dante's signal.

This isn't
very good news for you.

Mike'll get the job done.

You don't know him like I do.

Your faith
in your partner is admirable.

I can respect that.

- But if your man does not bring back my boy to me...
- He will.

He will.

You better pray that he does,
my little friend.

This place ain't watertight.
And if this pillar

can't drop the kids off
to the pool anytime soon,

we could get overrun.

Oh, here we go.

Looks like we have
our first guest to the party.

Thought you said it was a Flamingo
situation and then you grabbed me.

- What the hell!
- I thought we said, no nut shots.

And I told you to
protect them at all times.

- I found your bike by the karaoke club.
- Oof.

Dude, did you get hit by a bum?
Was that you?

Hey, hey, where you going?

What is this place?

Just somewhere me and Fred
get a bit of work done.

- Don't worry about it.
- You mean where you kill people?

I'm sorry, what?

You think I am stupid like you?

I know what you do.

- Really?
- Yes.

All right.

That doesn't bother you?

No. I figured you only
kill people who deserve it.

Oh, yeah, yeah. They, uh,
they definitely all deserved it.

Maybe I should join you.

How about it, Fall on?
You think I can kill someone?

You know what, Siu-ling?

With your temperament, yeah,

I think you probably could.

But once you go down that road, there's,
there's no coming back from it, all right?

I don't think you want
to do that. Let's go.

Why?

Are you in trouble?

I'm a better fighter than you.
Let me help.

You're not a better fighter than me.

But you know what?
You're a good friend.

And even though all you seem to
do is scream obscenities in my face

and knee me in the bollocks...

...I don't want to see you
get hurt. So come on.

We need to go.

Well, look who it is. Silas,
The San Francisco Strangler.

Apparently, this Brad Pitt
wannabe used to be a model,

but when a photographer made
the fatal mistake of calling him fat,

Silas strangled him to death
and has never looked back since.

He's as vicious as a viper,
with a grip like an anaconda.

Bravo. That was beautiful.

- Is this pok kai a friend of yours?
- We're not friends yet.

- But it's a lovely day for it, isn't it?
- Lovely day for what?

For choking over privileged
little piggies.

None of those here, mate.

We both know
there's at least one.

And I'm going to huff and puff

and strangle
that little porky pig.

You know what, man? I'm not
sure that's how the rhyme goes.

But why don't you do me a favor?

Take your flash ass mac
and your shit jeans

and piss off before you get
your head kicked in.

Tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk.

- I heard you were arrogant.
- I heard you were a throbbing twat.

So I'm guessing
both rumors were true.

Now, now, there's no need
for language like that.

Which brings us back
to Poco. Poco, The Killer Clown.

Now, they say
he was born in a brothel

and is as tightly wound
as a Jack in the Box...

...just one
handle crank away from snapping.

I thought this guy was supposed
to be an urban myth,

but he looks pretty real to me.

So now there's a clown.

- I don't like clowns, Fall on.
- Uh...

Bum!

- Oh, piss off, mate.
- Oh!

Well, cover me in honey
and release the hounds.

Do you know what I like to do
with pesky little boys like you?

Beat them.

Yeah, I bet you do, you weirdo.

Shut up.

Enough!

Get lost, clown.

This is my prize.

That's it.

Adiós.

And for you, you're dead.

The same
with your little girlfriend.

But it won't be a swift death.

Oh, no. It'll be nice and sexy,

one where I really get
to know her.

You know the type, Fall on.
I'm going to take

a great...

Well, that's one less horse
in the race, eh, kids.

So, where's the birthday boy?

I bet he's so excited
that Poco's at his party.

Ow! Ow! Ow!

You are a sneaky little thing,
aren't you?

I think he broke my septum.

Bitch!

I almost felt that.

Yeah, I heard about
your condition, you freak.

Is that true, then?

You really can't feel any pain?

None whatsoever.

Congenital insensitivity
to pain.

Isn't this one for the archives?

God...

If, if you lick it,
I'll let you squeeze my nerves.

Ooh.

Painful?

Painful?

No.

How about that? Come on.

You must have felt that one.

I did feel that.

- Hmm.
- And it felt...

...good.

Come here.

Is that all
you've got, you dirty pig head?

Oh, mercy.

You witch!

What? Your little pinky hurting?

You're tougher than you look,
you little dragon.

Go... God... Gesù.

I'm sorry for every bad thing
I ever done.

God!

Yeah!

Oh! Ah!

Oh-ho-ho.

Come on then.

You fucking mop!

Mm.

Oh, for fuck's sakes, Fred.

Ooh.

Huh.

Nice.

Now, that...

...that must have fucking hurt.

See you.

Oi, dummy. Get down here.
We need to go.

Siu-ling, you all right?

Where is he?

I choked him.

I think he's dead.

Oh, okay. Okay.

And how did that feel?

Pretty good.

I done it.

I shit it out!

No!

Oyumi.

Bollocks!

I'd think very hard
about your next move, mate.

If you so much as fucking
flinch, I'll torch the both of you.

Why would you do that?

Because I'm a fucking
sore loser. That's why.

So it is true.

The famous Accident Man,
once a great hunter...

...has now become a bodyguard.

- You think you're fast enough?
- Try me.

I could slit his throat
and your little courtesan's

before you could even blink.

This thing spits out napalm like
an 80-year-old man's piss pipe.

No telling where it's gonna go,
but please be my guest.

Come here.

I wonder
if I could kick your ass.

No dirty tricks, no accidents.

Just you and me
in a martial combat.

- I will fuck you in the lungs, you piece of shit!
- Stay out of this, Siu-ling.

Eh, listen, mate.

You want a crack at the title?

Be my guest.

You better
leave him breathing, though.

You do that, we can go round
and round right now, if you fancy it.

Very well.

This one is going nowhere.

- I'll take this fool.
- No.

You're gonna pay for that.

No, I don't think so.

So this is what it feels like...

...to be a loser.

Whoo! Hoo-hoo.

Mike-san...

...are we done?

Disappointing.

Uh, we ain't done, mate.

We ain't done.

You know what?

I never took a kicking
I didn't learn from.

So why don't we
try that again, yeah?

Very well.

Try to keep up this time.

Game over,

Accident Man.

Well, that's enough of that.

Ray.

Ray.

Get out here, you bastard!

Ray, don't do him, please.
What about Fred?

What about him?
Collateral damage, eh.

Just like the other Oasis members
back in London you murdered.

Like you give a fuck.

I said, get out of here,
you little shit.

Look, I don't blame you
for being pissed off at me.

- All right? I don't blame you...
- Pissed?

You ruined me.

Everything I worked
my whole life for

gone because of you.

And once I kill
this little piece of shit,

I won't need anybody because I'll
have my millions to keep me company.

Yeah, maybe.

You'll still be a miserable
old bastard, won't you?

- Yeah?
- Get out of my way

or, I swear to God, I will blow
your fucking head apart here.

No, you won't.
You wouldn't do it in London,

you're not
gonna do it now, are you?

- Don't test me, boy.
- Look,

I'm sorry about
what happened in London, okay?

I'm sorry about that.

But you're gonna have to take
some responsibility for that

because you're the one that
brought me up since I was a kid.

Yet you rioted.

And in the words
of the immortal bard,

"How sharper
than a serpent's tooth

is the scorn
of a thankless child."

Grateful is what you should be.

- Without me, you'd be nothing.
- No, it's because of you

that I'm a fucking asshole,
all right?

It's because of you
that I don't have any mates,

and I keep people at a distance

because you brought me up
to not give a shit

about anyone by myself,
didn't you?

So the only reason I am
the way I am is because of you.

And you know what?

Since I bumped into Fred,

and I found out what it's
like to, to have a real mate

in your life, someone
you actually care about,

it made me realize
that you were full of shit.

- You what?
- Yeah, you heard.

You're wrong to think that having
mates around was bad for you,

and I was an idiot
to listen to you.

Oh, no, no, no.
You're an idiot if you don't.

We're killers, son. That's where
it has to be. That's what it takes.

Is it what it takes, though? Because
I know we're not meant to have

a moral compass
and all that shit,

but even killers
need mates, right?

People that you care about.
You need family.

You need people
that give a shit about you.

Because I'll tell you what,
if you don't have that...

...well, then you're gonna just be a
fucking miserable old bastard, aren't you?

Like you.

You're not gonna shoot me, Ray?

And you're not gonna
let Fred die either.

Get out of here.

God!

Nice speech.

How long have you been working on it?

Since you threw me
out of London.

Hand over that tracking device in
case there's any more Muppets after you.

On second thoughts,
just chuck it out, will you?

That was...

...the only nice gift
my mama ever gave me.

Yeah, I know.

That's what we have to protect
in order to keep Fred alive.

What a parlor wank.

Well...

...we better get this scrote
back to his mommy

and get our little
finicky bugger back, eh?

Yeah.

Yeah.

Now,

we can't send you back
to your old dear

covered in your own shit and

can we now,
you abominable creature?

Get yourself cleaned up
and put on a fucking suit.

Oh, no, those are Fred's suits.

Really?

Fall on?

Shit! Siu-ling?

Siu-ling.

You okay?

My head hurts.

What happened to that pok kai?

That's a fucking horror show.
Did you do that?

Yeah.

Well, kind of.

Not bad. Not bad.

What happened to your face?

Be nice to your mom.

My mom is gonna be so angry

when she finds out
how you treat me.

You and your assassin friends

kicking me around
like a fucking football.

I reckon she'd be
more angry about the fact

that you shit yourself live
on CCTV, don't you?

Show her footage, if you want.

- You wouldn't dare.
- Wouldn't I?

Anyway, calm down.

Don't want you
shitting yourself again.

We feared the
worst after we lost the signal.

Well, your little soldier was a big
boy and, uh, went potty, didn't you?

Can you please
do something about him?

Look at the fucking state of me.

Since we are here, I presume

you have taken care
of all our problems.

Hello? Hello? Can you hear me?

- Ciao, Mama.
- Ciao, Dante.

- Well...
- Mama!

Tito!

Another word from you, figlio,

and I will take care
of you myself.

I'm sure that nine million euros
would help me with my grief.

So?

Well, thanks to me,
he's safe as houses.

Now, we've got rid
of that tracking device,

and those assassins
have popped their clogs.

All of them?

That one we know about, yeah.

What about the others?

I can't worry about things

we don't know about yet,
can I, you stupid book?

I have to say
I'm impressed, Mr. Fall on.

For a man who we only trusted
to crash a car or two,

you have truly outdone yourself.

So bravo to you, signore.

You know what, Mrs. Zuuzer,

hearing you say that
makes everything worthwhile.

Sarcasm suits you,

but your egotism will be
the death of you.

I'll be sure to see to that

if I ever see your face again.

I've heard that one before.

I do not doubt it.

How are we doing, Finicky?

All right, Mike.

Nice weekend?

Not really, mate, no.

So, uh, should we
get on with it?

What, he, what, he
just gets to leave, does he, huh?

This fucking ape?

He, uh, he,
he beat me like a dog.

He abused me,
threatened to kill me.

He said some pretty
fucking terrible things

- about you as well by the wa...
- Basta!

Cuccia!

Come on.

Come on, Fred.

What are you looking at,
you fucking pleb?

You all right, mate?

Yeah?

We'll call it a day, then, yeah?

We had an agreement,
which I'll honor,

but show me the respect
I deserve.

Leave this island,

and go and play with
your little mishaps elsewhere.

Be happy to.

Come on, Fred.

What? That's it? What,
you're gonna let him walk away?

Yeah, yeah bye,
you fucking twat!

Mama...

Ray, what are you doing here?

- Did you get my note?
- Yeah, he got the note.

Glad to see
you made an effort, Fred.

Anyway, first things first.

Let's see
if your Savile Row skills

are up to scratch, shall we?

Oh, is this one of mine?

Fuck you!

- Yes!
- I can't believe that.

I told you it'd work.

Mate, I thought
it was a crap idea,

but that scored
like bleedin' Beckham

I'll never doubt you
again, buddy.

Not just a ha track, eh, Mike.

No, mate.

All right, get in, lads. Get in.

And then she fell off
her bar stool.

Hey, Fred, there's
someone here to see you.

It's me, Leylo.

Is that really you, Fred?

- Oh, my dear, sweet friend.
- Ooh.

Come here.

Oh, fuck me sideways.

So Fred finally
met the love of his life,

and they lived happily
ever after.

Did they? Bollocks!
Lasted about a fortnight.

And when she realized Fred was
a stone-cold killer, she scapered.

He got over it, though. Big Ray
decided to put his differences aside.

And with the nine million
from the Zuuzer job,

we parlayed that
into a new outfit

and the world was our oyster.

So, it was on
to the next chapter,

which, for a guy like me,

is probably gonna be
a fucking belter.

Flaming! Flamingo!

Quiet!