All language subtitles for Accident.Man.Hitmans.Holiday.2022.1080p.WEB-DL.AAC2.0.H.264-en

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 an "oi-oi"?

Oi-oi!

These pyros are fucking shit.

Give me something better,
something bigger!

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

There's too much pressure.
It could be dangerous...

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

Whatever.

We're good to go.
About fucking time.

Who's ready for some big bangs?

Yeah, we have a lift-off!

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.

And yeah, it's a dirty job.
But in case you've forgotten,

I'm happy to get my hands

bleedin' filthy,
for the right price.

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

it's that some assholes
really do deserve to die.

I needed to keep my head down

after what happened
back in London.

So I grabbed my fake passport,
some 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 gotta confess, though,
I was a bit pissed off

when I found out Maltesers
weren't even from here

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

This is Malta!

...which is bullshit.

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

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 gonna be tonight.

So let's fucking have it.

Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Jesus Christ!

It's a brand-new TV,
and it's a AK OLED!

Christ!

Still got eight episodes

of Bake Off to watch.

Flamingo!

Flamingo! Flamingo!

Jesus Christ, Siu-Ling,
I pay you to smash me up,

but not the apartment. I mean,
look at the state of this place.

It's a right 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
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 mean 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 on the wrong
side of bed in the morning,

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

Excuse me. How much
are they paying you here?

Want 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. Don't say
"Flamingo," I don't stop!

And I thought we agreed, right?
No nut shots.

Do you remember that?
But what did you do?

You tried to put them up
into orbit.

And what else did you do?

Smashed the vase off my bonce.

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.

You're gonna have to help me
clean this place up.

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

What?! 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 fight.

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.

- Ah, just leave!
- Let go of me! Oi!

- Get his legs.
- Just leave me alone!

Bastard!
Fred?

Fry tonight!

Shit!

Looks like you pissed
down the wrong alley, Fred.

Mike? What you doing here?

I think you're right.
Come on.

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,
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.
What were you doing back there?

Getting handsy with the birds
or something?

No, nothing like that.

I was looking for someone.

Looking for someone?
Hey, you looking for me?

Did Big Ray send you?
No!

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

Don't be lying to me!
...you'd gone 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 lopping off
the heads of its clients.

Don't guilt trip me on that,
all right?

Pete and Milton had it coming,
and...

Well, the rest of them didn't
give me much choice, did they?

You could have handled it
a little bit better.

Probably right.

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

I don't know where your head
was at 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 did you meet her?

Well, actually, 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 emailed 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 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 gotta get you out of here
before the cops turn up.

And 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, heh.

Ah, you know me, mate.
Tell you what, though,

you should've seen it the other
day. It was a right bloody...

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

Oi, you!

Shit, Siu-Ling,
this ain't the time.

Aah! What the hell?!
You brought in back-up?

Stop it.

I will kill you both.
Flamingo. Flamingo!

Flamingo.

Jesus Christ.

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

No, but you did so poorly
last time,

I thought you needed
the extra training.

Thankfully, just a coffee table
was the only casualty this time.

Oh, and you, I guess. Eh, Fred?

What the bloody hell's going on?

Who is this?

Siu-Ling, this is my old mate,
Fred. Fred, meet Siu-Ling.

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

Nice to meet you, Fred.
I'm a bit confused here.

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

so, um, tell you what,
call that one a draw

and I'll see you when it's time
for the next ruck, yeah?

Sorry about your face, Fred.

No, that's all right.

Nice to meet you.

See you.

Listen, you can stay here
tonight.

Police are probably
scouring the streets

looking for a specky tosser
with a pocket flamethrower.

But after that, you're gone.

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

I'm looking for Leylo.

I love her. 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.

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

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

Well, let me have a butcher's.

A problem shared
is a problem halved.

I might be able to help you out.

Meet Mr. Micallef,
a self-professed hermit.

Never leaves the house,
not day or night.

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.

Bleeding hell. That couldn't
have gone any better.

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

Oh, mate, that was exquisite.

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

Hm.
So...

anything else in the pipeline

you need me to work with...?
Hang on a minute, Fred.

I didn't say you could stay.

But we make a good team.

Well, I have been
pretty busy lately.

Know what? Turns out
there's more people 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 throw 'em,

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

Well, as honest
as any killer can be.

All right, you can stay...
Yes!

...for a bit. And don't you
be telling Big Ray.

'Course not.
You know what's gonna happen

if he finds out
we're working together.

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

All right, cool.

You're gonna have to get
your test-pilot cap on again,

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

What about poisoned nuts?
Hm.

Here we go then, mate.

Yes.

Flamingo, flamingo!

It's 3:00 in the morning.
I need to sleep, don't I?!

I can't believe
I'm gonna 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...

Oh, fuck! Bleeding hell, Mike!

You cut that one a bit fine.

I thought I was gonna
actually have to chug him.

He was a very good kisser,
though.

Nice one.

With business booming

and Fred wanting to test
his new game plan

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

and 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
his new techniques

and where I can
have a bash at seeing

if they're actually gonna
work in the real world.

Go on, Fred.

Whoa, yes! Yes! Wow,
what a shot. Nice one, mate.

You ready?
I'm ready.

Three, two, one.

Give yourself a bit of room.
Move back.

Right. Ready, then?
Yeah.

Three, two, one. Go.

Ooh, whoa!

Ooh.

Oh, shit.

Blow it out, Fred.

Fred, fire extinguisher
back here.

Fred!
There's a fire extinguisher!

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

I told you there was
a fire extinguisher over there.

Wanna set
the whole place on fire?

Her tits are hanging out.
Oh, yeah.

Ah, 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, fucking hell.

Why's it not working?

The flame's on,
why's it not working?

Might be all
right on Bonfire Night,

but how's that an accident?

Oh, shut up, Fred.

Flippin' 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 are good. Most of them,

like this one over here,
are shit.

It's like those suits
over there.

Be honest with me, Fred.
You really think

that they're gonna work?

They will work.

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

and put it into the seams.

I've put C4 flakes
in the lining,

a blasting cap
in one of the buttons

and a receiver
in the other button.

So all you have to do
is dial in and boom.

Fred, it's not gonna work, okay?
It's not gonna get the yield.

It's gonna singe him a little
at best. Come on, please.

Wait a minute.

I think we've got a job
coming in.

Oh, yeah?

Get up.

Have a butcher's.

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've done.

Mean as fuck,
Old Testament Cosa Nostra,

headed up by some nut-bag witch

with a reputation
as severe as her 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.

Oh.
Talk about making a rod

for your own back.
I tell you what,

whoever accepts that job has got
balls bigger than their brains.

I'll 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?

Tried that, though, Fred.
It doesn't work.

I spit in yours.

Ow! Ooh...

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 bleeding scam is what she is!

Oh, bollocks!

I will help if I can, Fred.

Thanks, Siu-Ling.

Nice one.
See you later.

You let her beat you up,
don't you?

No, no. She's legit, mate.

Right? Eyes in the back
of her head.

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.

Look, I 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 hit
doesn't pay off.

It'll work.
Yeah? Well, make sure it does,

because 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 was just wondering if you knew

in which city King Edgar
of England was crowned

back in 973 AD?

Bath!

What the fuck was that?

Oh, what the bloody hell's
going on?

Where are we? Who are you lot?

So you are the famed
"Accident Man"?

No, mate, 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 her tongue, I think.

You fucking mule.

We made you and your Nicky-nacky
very wealthy.

Show some respect!

Nicky-nacky?

Jesus Christ, mate.
Is that all you got?

Oh, okay.

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

cause you hit like
a bleeding 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? Whew, 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.
The 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's 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 eardrums.

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.
Ha-ha, that's right.

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?

The Sparkling Clam.

Sparkling Clam,
that was it, yeah.

It even sounds like
a bloody yeast infection.

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

Your missus, I'm guessing.

You all right, mate?
Hurt yourself, did ya?

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? Aah!

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.

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

You'd be doing me a favor.
Go on, mate, do him.

Mike! No way!

Armando. On tre...

Uno...

Due...

Tre...
Fine. Fine!

I'll do it, for triple the fee.

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.

As 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 the 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... Do you know

what really twists my knackers?

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

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

and they end up serving you
pig swill like this.

Take this banger, 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 letdown.

Just like you.

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

I heard that you've got
a nice little earner

going on 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...

Oh, fuck's sake!
I mean, 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 Boar Bar,
Valletta.

Look, 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,
Ray. He exaggerates.

Nothing we got going on
down here is gonna bother you...

Bother me?! You havin' 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's
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 the hit
happens to be in Malta

and I can "catch up"
with me mates

is actually
a little brucey bonus.

Was you, wasn't it? Yeah,
that botched Zuuzer kid job.

That was you, right?

Not like you to miss, Ray.

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

Make mistakes,
like I did back in London.

Should have 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 gonna 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.

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

If you'd 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.

I ain't scared
of any crime family

from the ass 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.

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. It's opened up.

What are you talkin' about?
To who?

Everyone worth their salt.

The cream of the crop have
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.

Paid us 50 grand
just to turn up in person.

One by one, we had to step up

and load our bank details
into the computer.

It's a massive 9 million euros

to the lucky sod
who gets the job done.

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

Who we talking about?
Who'd you see?

Oyumi wasn't there, was he?

Oh, he was there.

Yeah. So no need

to gild the pissin' lily
on this one, eh?

'Cause Oyumi's
a bona fide fucking ninja.

And if he's sent your name,
you won't see him coming.

So looks like Fred's fucked.

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.

Look, whatever we've got
going on can wait because...

What's that?

It turns out that little twerp

has only got a fucking
tracking device on him.

Client's sending over
the link now.

So you'd better
get your skates on

'cause it's a proper game on.

Hey!

Are you crazy?!
Freak!

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, mate,
'cause this tone-deaf joke's

got a tracking device on him.

A gaggle of assassins
are about to turn up,

kill every last one of you.
Of course he has, you idjota.

It's in his watch. How else do
you think we keep track of him?

He's had it
since he was a bambino.

It's a burning fuse now. You
need to get rid of it. Ditch it.

Who the fuck
you think you are, huh, dickhead?

You're the fucking hired help.

This watch, yeah,
it's a classic.

One of a kind. I would die
before I take it off.

So up your fucking asshole.

Take the watch and destroy it.

What the fuck did I just say?
Good call.

Who the fuck do you all
think you are? You fucking...

Oh, problem 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.

Move!

Freeze!

Freya.

Fall on.
Been a while.

More like five years, I reckon.
Russia wasn't it?

You stole that
dirty politician from me, eh?

Ah, you know what it's like.
First come, first served.

I've always respected you,
Fall on.

You're a damn good assassin.

But if it's a choice
between killing you

or 9 million in my bank,

yeah, baba, I'm afraid
that's no choice at all.

This one's personal to me,
Freya.

So as a professional courtesy,

I'm gonna 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.

I think we should call it a day,
don't you?

I see.

Jesus Christ!

Well, move
your fucking head then.

Oh, please, please, please.
I'll make you rich. Please!

Holy... Oh, fuck.

Oh, fuck! Aah! Aah!

Fucking out of order. Oh, God!

Aah! What the fuck is going on?

Come here!

Mr. Fall on, do you have my son?

I've got him, yeah. But it
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 decided
to swallow his own watch.

Unless I cut it out of his guts,
he'll be a walking target

till he pinches off
his next loaf.

When was the last time
you took a shit?

None of your business!

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, all right.
I ain't a fuckin' babysitter.

I'm a professional killer.

And with all due respect,
your son is an absolute twat.

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'll be lucky if 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 mommy just hired me
to protect you.

So you do
as you're fucking told.

You... You... You...
You are a fucking ugly troll.

Anybody ever
tell you that, yeah?

You look like
a fucking melted Ben Affleck.

I'm gonna tell my mama
how you treat me.

You're gonna pay
for your actions.

She knows exactly
how to treat a man like you.

And if you strike me
one more time...

Oh, Jesus... What the fuck
are you doing here?

We haven't got time for you
to buy fucking shampoo!

Shut up!

Laxatives, you got any?
Yeah.

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

Here.

What are you doing?
Shut up.

Oh, you... What the...?
You...

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

Just take me home, boy.

Oi, you call me "boy"
one more time,

I swear, I'm gonna
kill you myself.

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...

Oh, I'm gonna...

Got back way out of this place?
Yeah. There.

Come here. Go. Keep moving.
Get the fuck off me.

Please, just give me
five minutes. I cannot breathe.

I've got asthma, probably.
Please.

Hello? Are you listening?
All right, 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 sodding vampire,

but essentially
he's just a fuckin' butcher.

This Freya's blood?

Most of it.

B positive.

Always try to be, pal.

Foolish boy.
B Positive is rare.

Only about 8%,
but not the rarest.

What type you rockin'?
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!

Fucking piece of...

This way.

Fuck this.

Get up there, get up there.

Get up there!
Push me, you fucking... Push me.

Fucking get
up there, you dum-dum.

I'm fucking trying.

Push!

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

What do you think I'm using,
my teeth? Fuck!

Going to taste your blood.

Help! Help!

Dum-dum, where are you?

There's a fucking maniac
with an axe trying to kill me!

Somebody... Get off me! Let go!
Hey. Oi, come here.

Right, now, get in here
and you stay in there

if you know what's good for you.
No, I'm scared of the dark!

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,
a less than one per center.

You are a common, dirty boy.

Oh. Shall I finish you off then?

No.

Let a brother bleed.

Go on then. Off you pop.

Oh, is he dead?

He is now.

So, what now, eh? Eh?

So, what are we doing
now, idjota?

Idjota. I'm guessing
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.

Hoping it's gonna buy us
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.

Just 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.

You think 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.

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
what 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 flamin' asked.

Can I...?
Can I have water, please?

No.

Please. Oh!

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 my asshole, mate.
That's you.

You better hope
they don't get to me.

Otherwise, your friend, fft,
he's going bye-bye.

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

I don't 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.

Oh, right.

It is believed
that back in the day

when Saint Anthony was
walking the streets of Padova,

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 pillock

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

we could get overrun.

Oh, here we go.

Looks like we have
our first guest to the party.

I thought you said
it was a flamingo situation,

and then you grab 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.

Did you get hit by a bomb?
Was that you?

Hey. Hey, where you going?

What is this place?

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?

Do 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, Sui-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 wanna
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.

This puk gai 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.

Know what, mate, I'm not
sure that's how the rhyme goes,

but, uh, why don't you
do me a favor?

Take your flasher's mac
and your shit jeans

and piss off before you get
your head kicked in.

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.

Oh, piss off, mate.

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.

Oh!

Shut up. Enough!

Get lost, clown.
This is my prize.

That's it.

Adios.

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 gonna take great pleasure...

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.

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

I think you broke my septum.

Bitch!

Ha-ha, 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 fun, ha! Your turn.

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

Ooh...

Painful?

Painful?
Nope.

How about that? Come on,
you must have felt that one.

I did feel that...

and it felt good!

Honk!

Come here.

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

Oh. Mercy!

You wench!

What?

Your little pinkie hurting?

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

Oh, God! Gesù! Oh!

I'm sorry for every bad thing
I ever done. Come on! God!

Come on, then.

Fucking mad!

Oh, for fuck's sakes, Fred.

Oh. Nice.

Now, that...

That must have fucking hurt.

See ya.

Oi, dummy, get down here!
We need to go!

Siu-Ling, you all right?
Where is he?

I choked him.
I think he is dead.

Okay, okay.

Uh, and how did that feel?

Pretty good.

Yeah! 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.

You stay out of this, Siu-Ling.

Hey, 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.

Oh, I don't think so.

So this is what it feels like...

to be a loser.

Mikey-san, are we done?

Disappointing.

No, we ain't done, mate.

We ain't done.

Do 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.

Whoa! Whoo!

Game over... Accident Man.

Well, that's enough of that.

Ray.

Ray!

Get out here, you bastard!

Ray, don't do it, 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 here, you little shit.

Look, I don't blame you

for being pissed off with me.

Pissed?! You ruined me.

Everything I worked my whole
life all gone because of you.

And once I kill
this little piece of shit,

I won't need anybody.

I'll have my millions
to keep me company.

Yeah, maybe.

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

Get out of my way
or, I swear to God,

I will blow
your fucking head apart.

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

and 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.

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

Yeah, too right I did.

And in the words
of the immortal bard,

how sharper
than a serpent's truth

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.

You brought me up
to not give a shit

about anyone but myself,
didn't you?

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

But do you know what?
Since I bumped into Fred

and I found out what it's like

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.

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 the way it has to be.

That's what it takes.

Is it what it takes, though?

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 here!

Cunt!

Nice speech.

How long you been workin' 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 over here.

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 pile of wank.

Well, we better get this scrout
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 claret can we now,
you abominable creature?

Get yourself cleaned up
and put on a fucking suit.

Ah, no, those are Fred's suits.

Really?
Fall on!

Shit. Siu-Ling.

Siu-Ling, you okay?

My head hurts.
What happened to that puk gai?

Oh!

It'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.
Stronzo.

My mama's going to 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'll be more angry
about the fact

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

I can show her the footage.
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.

Yeah, well, your little soldier
was a big boy

and 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!

Another word from you, figlio,

and I will
take care of you myself.

I'm sure that 9 million euros
would help me with my grief.

So?

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

Now, we got rid of
that tracking device

and those assassins
have popped their clogs.

All of them?

The ones we know about, yeah.

What about the others?
I can't worry about things

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

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.

Heh, 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 we doin', Finicky?

All right, Mike. Nice weekend?

Not really, mate. No.

So, uh, shall we get on with it?

What? No! Wha... What?

He just gets to leave, does he?
Huh? This fucking ape?

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 way...

Come on. Come on, Fred.

What are you lookin' 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, is it?

What? You gonna let him
walk away?

Yeah, yeah, bye,
you fucking twat!

Mama...

Ray? What are you doin' 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 don'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 hat rack, eh, Mike?

No, mate.
Huh?

Oh!

All right, get in, lads. Get in.

And then she
fell off her bar stool.

Hey, Fred,

there is someone here
to see you.

It's me, Leylo.

Is that really you, Fred?

Oh, my dear, sweet Fred.
Come here.

Well, fuck me sideways.

So Fred finally
met the love of his life

and they lived
happily ever after.

Ha-ha, did they? Bollocks.

It lasted about a fortnight,
and when she realized

Fred was a stone-cold killer,
she scarpered.

He got over it, though.

Big Ray decided
to put his differences aside,

and with the 9 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 fuckin' belter.

Flamingo! Flamingo!

Cunt!

Quiet!

This isn't very good news for you.