All language subtitles for H.Reessssoo

HUMAN RESOURCES

This is the story of my hatred.

Others had to fight against tyrannies,
destroy empires,

or even overthrow princes.

Others had to fight against kingdoms
that ruled over the lives of millions.

Me?

I'm subversive on my own scale.

I don't aspire to revolution...

...but to self-preservation.

lI rise only against the
corporate entity that rules my life.

I am Gabriel Lynch,

and this is the story of my hatred.

CHAPTER 1
GABRIEL LYNCH'S LIFE"

We lost the house when I was little.

Stop, my husband will be home soon.

My father, "Dr. Lynch"

Put that down!

simply decided to wait
for the new owners to evict us.

Since then,
I haven't had a home of my own.

Some people may say that losing
a house isn't reason enough

to generate a hatred such as mine.

But that's a lie.

Because the lie is more beautiful.

Lizbeth Fernanda Ramírez Flores.

I'm new in Human Resources.

"Gabriel" Lynch.

Is that French?

Do you sing?

It's not "Gabriel".

It's Gabriel.

I supervise the prints.

That's very nice, Gabriel.

Where can you grab
a bite around here?

I'm an office worker. A desk jockey.

I'm not interesting,

and I don't deal
with anybody interesting.

Absolutely nothing is clear to me.

I spend my days at a desk at the
Print Division

of this mega design, printing
and distribution corporate office.

I'm Print Supervisor.

In other words, practically nothing.

THE GUERILLA FIGHTER'S MANUAL
BY CARLOS MARIGHELLA

Ten technicians report to me,

and ten supervisors report
to the boss: the Print Manager.

Hey.

These are almost new.

Chop off a centimeter
and use them for color testing.

-Okay.
-Thank you.

We live down here. Only the Manager
is allowed to go up to the top floor and

breathe in the air of the masters.

I asked for the Manager's
position when it opened recently.

I still haven't gotten a reply
to know who-

I made it to Supervisor
because I have fair skin.

But my place isn't with the masters

because I don't come from the crop
of private school alumni.

And yes. In case you were wondering,

yes, I am bitter.

Hi.

Do you know if the new
Print Manager is coming in today?

They say he's
Counselor Castañeda's son.

Isn't it strange that they
gave him this position?

I mean, his résumé says he studied
Philosophy or something like that.

He's one of those rich kids
who can't get ahead.

I heard that recently

he was detained by the police for
being drunk, and he had cocaine on him.

So his dad the lawyer punished him,

sent him to live in a tiny apartment
in the Independencia neighborhood,

with no parking spot,

and put him to work here,
in his close friend's company.

-Mario C. Castañeda.
-I'm sorry!

Pleasure meeting you.

-I'm sorry.
-No problem.

You summed it up well,
and got all the details right.

I've only been at the company
for a week.

It's fine.

No problem.

Like you said, I'm a philosopher.

Sorry.

Sorry. I need you to sign... Sorry.

I need you to sign this, sir.

So we're going
to be formal to each other?

-Sign the whole thing, laterally.
-Okay.

-All the pages?
-Yes.

and laterally.

Okay...

Laterally means...

the bottom?

On the side.

Listen, are you going to be
so formal with me?

Whatever you say, sir.

-Come on, just a little kiss.
-The love birds.

Come on, I'm sorry.

You're such gluttons.

This mother fucker, the new Manager,
has no experience.

He's totally inexperienced.

He's only here because of his contacts
and because he's pretty.

This is Paruro, my only friend.

Let's not fool ourselves, neitheryou nor
I had a chance for the position.

We're not refined.

Don't get angry.

These kids are born to be bosses.

Besides, he's Counselor Castañeda's son.
It was obvious!

What? It was obviously going to be him.

-Buddy, two more beers, please!
-Let's go the bathroom?

And two glasses of house wine, please.

Miss me.

I'll be waiting here.

My goodness.

So? What's the deal?

How's it going with Liz?

Fine.

Fine?

Yes.

Fine.

Myrna is a lot more interesting
than you think.

Is she?

She's read so many romance novels

that she'd defend me
from her husband with a knife.

Are you falling in love, Parurín?

What's this, dude?

-Tearing the tags off your shirts?
-Yes, leave me alone.

Look.

-What about this one?
-What about it?

-It doesn't look cheap.
-Because it isn't, my dear friend.

Where did you buy it?

Who said I bought it?

We should tear off our tags too,
maybe that way we'd be less vulgar.

Cheers to that.

I don't know, Lynch.
I don't have a dime.

Come on.

I'll buy you a drink.

-Are you for real?
-My aunt's treat.

Your aunt?

Gabrielito and Miguel Paruro,
son of a bitch!

What's up, Parurín?

This place is great,
thanks for the recommendation.

You're welcome, Boss.
Whatever you need.

The chick that's
going to be with me is busy.

Well, she's with some other dude.

How about a drink?

What do you say, huh? Yeah?

-Whiskey? Whiskey?
-Yes.

Could you bring me three
whiskeys, please? Thanks.

Come on in, make yourselves at home
in this whorehouse.

What the fuck, Gabrielito!
You seem so well behaved.

The first time I saw you
I thought you were a genius,

and then I realized you weren't.

What I fucking love about these digs

is that there's no better place to be
a gentleman than a whorehouse.

That phrase came out good, didn't it?

What did I say?

You like behaving like a gentleman.

Fuck yeah! In whorehouses!

What about you, Gabrielito?
You only come here to drink, right?

My aunt works here.

Is your aunt...

a hooker?

I thought the three of us
were laughing.

I met this idiot ages ago.

I was his father's patient. Dr. Lynch.

He was my client.

One day

I caught him stealing his dad's
consultation money.

So,

I fucked him from head to toe

at his graduation party.

I don't know.

The idiot got hooked.

He thinks we have a bond.

-He calls me...
-Aunt.

But we're not related, dude.

To me, you're my aunt.

What are you doing here?

Why don't you go with the girls?

They like them young once in a while.

You have any idea what it's like
to fuck those old geezers?

We sleep with people
that arouse us, don't we?

Maybe where you fuck.

Here,

the job is to fuck
who doesn't arouse you.

Just like any other job, Aunt.

SCANNING

I have to go.

They need these reports.

Who?

Constantino?

Who?

What do you mean who?

Constantino.

His name is Mario.

He doesn't like the other name.

I can't eat with you today.

Why not?

Asshole!

What?

What?

Oh, fuck. I overdid it.

What?

You're an idiot!

Idiot!

-So you won't be recognized?
-So nobody sees where I am.

Let's take a selfie, okay?

Excellent, let's do hashtags.

Hashtag blessed, hashtag duck face.

CHAPTER 2
"LOVE PIGS"

How are you?

Wonderful. Everything is just peachy.

That's good.

Seems it's going to be a great
day for everyone.

Really?

Mario is taking me to a new place.

You should get to know him better.

He's a very pleasant dude.

Constantino?

Why do you call him that
when you know he doesn't like it?

You say different things
just to feel special, but

you're not so special.

Why the fuck are you
calling it voluntary?

You think I blew up my car?
That I ignited it?

I don't know how to make bombs!

I'm not saying that,

but there isn't a single camera
to corroborate your version.

There isn't a single camera
to corroborate yours!

You believe what you want to!
You believe I burned my own car?

That's not what I think,
this is about Section 2.

Fuck Section 2, and fuck you too!
Get out of my office, shithead.

Out!

I didn't burn my own car, idiot!

-My dad gave me that car, fucker!
-Calm down.

Calm down. It's all right.

What was that all about?

We lost our little car?

Shit, Liz.

What happened?

Some crazed bastard
burned Mario's car,

and the insurance guy says the policy
doesn't cover voluntary incidents.

There's no security camera,

and they have to do
an investigation, and...

Fucking shit! That BMW was expensive,
it's a gift from his dad, the lawyer.

Why does the insurance company
do that?

A broker explained it to me,
it's normal for them not to pay.

Good thing I dont own a Bimmer.

They blew up the boss's car.

What's up, Lynch?
Do you have plans for Friday?

I have no plan, Parurito.
I have no plan.

Clean yourself up,
I want to introduce you to somebody.

Somebody?

Yes. Somebody.

-Everything will be all right.
-Thanks.

-I'm here if you need me.
-Thanks.

Gabrielito, I was...

I was fucked, dude.

The insurance company
isn't paying a dime.

I was fucked,
and I don't know who did it.

I don't know how.

That's it.

He wants more.

-What's up, Parurito?
-How are you?

Gabrielito here
is the Print Supervisor.

-Vero.
-Hi.

Verónica is married,
she has a little girl.

And it seems she's interested in you.

Since we'd do anything
to piss her husband off...

But first tell us why Lizbeth is saying
that you took money from her purse

when she was at your dingy place?

You mean it's true?

You're a son of a bitch.

Lizbeth and I hardly ever spoke.
It wasn't exactly a love story.

That's what you get for
hanging out with horrible people

who have horrible names.

That's the way the world is.

Full of horrible and vulgar people

like us.

Excuse me?

You mean like you.

I have two hours.

You better not bite Vero.

Yeah, Liz told people about that too.

It's cool to cheat on her husband,
but not if it's dangerous.

Got it?

There's nothing more pathetic
than her fucking husband.

A fucking pimp like you, maybe?

Where were we? Right.

Would you steal money from the lady
of your dreams, Gabrielito?

You know?

I'd wait for her to fall asleep
and slither like a snake to its prey

and go inside her purse
to grab her money and jewels.

Isn't that your girlfriend's husband?

That woman is a fucking beast.

I don't get
your friend's taste in women.

Yes, the young man is peculiar.

Take your hand out of my purse.

I said take your hand...

GABRIEL?

YES, WHAT IS IT?

SEE YOU IN THE ELEVATOR.

RIGHT NOW.

Hey!

What?

I want you to lend me a book.

How long have you been married?

Paruro told me about
your warrior handbook.

I need you to lend it to me.

Books aren't meant to me loaned...

especially those books.

I've been married for a long time

and I have a three year old daughter.

I told him to buy any car he wants,
just as long as it's red.

They look good, don't they?

Red.

Yes. It's my favorite color.

Gabrielito!

Ga-brie-li-to!!!

These are the weekly reports
you yourself asked for.

That's why there are so many.

You've been getting the same report
for several weeks now.

But everything is in order.

Everything is in order, isn't it?

Yes.

Fuck yeah!

Of course is it.

I just want to know

if everything was all right.

-Huh?
-Yes.

You and I are "bros" aren't we?

I'm glad because I wouldn't
like it if you told people that we

ran into each other
at a whorehouse.

I wouldn't like that
to happen ever, dude.

You know what these people are like.

I never tell people anything.

Sorry about my tone of voice, bro.

The thing with my convertible
really got to me.

I can't get used to taking taxis.

Yes. It may sound stuck-up

but I get dizzy in cars with roofs.

And there are no convertible
taxis, it's a bitch.

Obviously, of course.

I don't know, it's like

like the whole universe is telling me

that something bad is going to happen.

I don't know, must be the stress.

Why don't you ask the company
for an Assistant Manager

to alleviate your stress?

With everything you do,
it's only normal

for you be screwed up.

That's a fucking good idea!

Fucking good idea, Gabrielito.

How did you come up with that, dude?

Who knew you had it in you? Well done.

-Everything in order.
-So, everything in order.

Fuck yeah.

Anything I can do for you.

Thanks, "bro".

What are you doing here?

The usual.

This one is Hugo.

You must think I'm stupid
giving them names.

-Do you like them a lot?
-A lot.

Do I look like any of them?

No.

Well... team.

As we all know, the needs,

the needs of Production
are about to surpass us. Right?

Hello? Could you pay attention, please?

I rehearsed this.
I put my time into it rehearsing,

and I'll have to start over again
from the beginning.

This goes for everyone,
if someone is distracted

I'll have to start over
from the beginning.

Well, team.

As we all know, the needs,

the needs of Production
are about to surpass us. Right?

But the good news is that High Command
gave me permission

of appointing an Assistant Manager.

An Assistant Manager.

And with this appointment,
Management will be able to solve

more efficiently and rapidly

the problems we have been experiencing.
Problems in general.

And with this appointment I'll be able
to delegate certain responsibilities

that I haven't delegated up to now.

Because quite honestly,
I don't like to do that.

Well, with no further ado

I'd like to introduce the new
Assistant Manager here,

for this office.

With you, with you

Mr. Miguel Paruro!

Paruro, Paruro!

Thank you very much.

This is team work, thank you.

I know you feel like you're choking.

But relax.

The day will come when you're promoted.

Hang in there,
we'll figure something out.

Hang in there.

You'll see, you'll go up one day.

I don't say this to everybody.

But you're my friend. Hang in there.

I'll hang in there.

I'm going to the bathroom,
I have a tiny bladder.

Oh, man.

Good evening, Gabrielito.

Look. I'll leave you with your nephew.

My nephew?

He's more like our nephew by now.

Take care of him.
This boy is full of good ideas.

Hello?

Gabriel. My daughter is sick,
I can't go anywhere.

Okay.

I'll call you later.

Take care, and tell your girl...

I've lived like the secret son
of a king for a long time

waiting for a courtier to rescue me.

Of course nobody rescued me.

Nobody rescues anybody.

This ink budget is outrageous.

Mario wants a comparative costs chart
to scold Hernandez,

the color prints guys.

Okay.

Well, that's all.

-Open the door!
-What?

-She's my wife, that slut is my wife!
-I know!

She told me everything, open up!
Open, asshole!

I know!

No, don't! What are you doing?
Wait a minute!

Son of a bitch!

Gabriel, you're the worst thing
that ever happened to me.

You're my penance, you're my penance.

Don't go, Gabriel! Never!

I love it when she talks
like a man basher.

Dude. Pour me some more rum, please.

How appropriate.

Watch your back.

Here you go.

Fucking Myrna.

She told him everything,
why would she do that?

She probably feels guilty,
and what did you do?

Walk in her shoes, man.

She should feel guilty
about letting her husband beat her.

You're such a prick.

You sound as sincere
as a government ad.

-If you'll excuse me.
-Go ahead.

Don't do anything.

I'll think of something.

Don't do anything.

Listen. Convince him
not to do anything.

-Nothing at all.
-Nothing.

-Bye.
-Where are you going?

I'm leaving because I'm very drunk.

What am I going to do?
How will I simmer down?

That fucking bitch.

Oh, shit.

It's time to go to bed, let's go.

Don't listen to Verónica,
you don't know anything.

Come on, dude.

There's no point sitting here thinking
about how to kick that idiot's ass.

Instead of following Verónica
around like a stray dog,

-What?
-ask her who she's married to.

-Shut up, idiot.
-You do that, dude.

-Ask her who her daughter's daddy is.
-Shut up, idiot.

-It's Diego Castañeda.
-You're-

Our boss's brother.

Diego's the one
who's always beating her.

You're wasted, dude.

No way.

Yes.

It doesn't matter that much.

It doesn't matter that
your husband is the brother

of the man I hate the most
in this world. Okay.

I should be offended
by your obsession with Mario.

I should be your obsession.

I wanted to tell you something,

but I'm worried
about what Paruro may do.

Have you seen him in a worse state?

-Sister in law.
-Brother in law.

Are you coming in?

That's what it's about...

-Check that out.
-Can you come with me?

You do it.

CHAPTER 3 "PORTRAITS OF
CONFESSIONS AND JEALOUSY"

Call me Lynch.

Gabriel Lynch.

Call me dog.

Call me bitter pig.

I have barely seen anyone over
the mandatory leave they gave us.

I visited Paruro in the hospital.

I was disappointed in him
when I saw him lying there,

proving he wasn't the one
who set those bombs.

I'm saving my smiles
for Constantino and Lizbeth.

But no.

It really wasn't me who set the bomb.

They won't let me see Mario.

They won't even let me go up
to the floor where they have him.

They say he has wounds
on the palms of his hands

and the bottoms of his feet.

Like Jesus Christ!

And his family...

I'm certain I must seem
so insignificant to his family.

-Liz.
-What?

You are so insignificant.

I want a copy just like this one.

Your husband could
buy you a real guerrilla.

I'm sure he can afford it.

You know?

I wish I could shut you up with food
like I do to my daughter.

You know?

Whoever set that bomb did me a favor.

According to Lizbeth

that fucking Constantino
isn't coming back.

He told her himself

when they finally let her see him.

No one disobeys their father.

He'll be back tomorrow
or the day after.

Did your husband tell you so?

I just know, that's all.

Did he tell you in bed?

Exactly.

I bet talking about wounds
and nails turns him on.

Not him; it turns me on.

I feel strange without my husband.

For me it's the opposite.

I feel strange when I'm with him.

You're just like me.

-Just like her?
-In her dreams.

Careful, Paruro attracts many stares.

Miguelito has enough love
for all of us.

-He does?
-Yes.

I wouldn't be so sure.

He could never get it up with me.

What?

If my husband weren't such a wimp,

he'd kill the three of you,
fucking assholes.

-She got mad.
-What the fuck?

Myrna!

What did you say?

I don't owe you an explanation.

I'm sick of these shit people.

I'm going home.

Here comes the boss!

He's distracted,
he won't be here much longer.

He's leaving, just not very soon.

That's what I want
to talk about with you.

We're going up,
but we have to get rid of him.

You want the Management
position, Parurito?

We have to get rid of him for real.

Your cowardly bomb wasn't enough?

-I didn't set that bomb.
-I'm still healing.

Boss, how are you doing?

I'm good.

I'm going to my office.

Of course.

Everybody get to work,
back to your stations.

Thank you.

Maybe scare him,
beat him up a little...

Blow him up.

In his new car, when he buys it.

Who are we going to blow up?

Mario wants to see you.

I'll be right there.

My goodness.

Will you hand me that book?

Behind you.

This one?

Yes

Have you read it?

No.

It's quite an impressive biography.

It keeps its distance
and sense of humor.

Just like me.

I'm moving out, Gabrielito.

I can't stand being here.
I get sick to my gut.

Moving out?

Yes.

I talked with my godfather, and...

he's giving me an office
on a floor higher up.

Paruro will be the liaison.

Paruro is coming up with me.

That way I won't be alone.

I'm leaving this office
to you, Gabrielito.

You'll be the boss down here.

You'll still get your orders
from me, but

you're going to be the boss.

That's why I called for you.

Obviously, the promotion
comes with a raise.

Okay.

Thank you.

Gabriel Lynch, white but poor.

But they know that if they dress me
properly or tear my tags off,

I can pass off as one of them.

-You don't look happy.
-I don't?

Cheers!

Come on, dude, dance!

It's true.

Your buddy Paruro
was always impotent with me.

Like horses.

There are horses, stallions in fact,

who need help to mount a mare.

You know why? What's wrong
with these horses? I'll tell you.

When the horse
sees that the mare is such

such a prime mare,
you know what I mean?

He can't mount her because he says
"She's beautiful, she's strong!"

So, the horse have to be helped.
That's why.

I blew up your brother-in-law's car.

I set the nail bomb.

No way!

Yes, I read it in your book.

You didn't go past the gasoline page,

but I read it to the end.

So, this is it.

I'll leave you to settle in.

"Knock-knock."

Don't ever barge in again.

What?

You didn't even have a door before.

Listen, I need you

to sign these.

Your signature.

On every page.

Laterally?

Exactly.

So what? Are you thinking
of buying a car now?

No.

You keep trying with Constantino.

Okay.

No, Mario wants nothing to do with me.

He hasn't wanted to see me for days.

I see.

You know who's thinking
about buying a new car?

Who?

Miguel Paruro.

Parurito. The one and only.

Paruro?

You know...

Find Paruro.

Tell him I don't
understand these numbers.

Okay.

Okay!

Thanks.

Yes?

Was it your idea
for that whore to chase after Paruro?

Don't tell me you're jealous.

You're a piece of shit.

You should lend me
your guerilla book again,

I need a recipe to use on you.

Paruro!

Yes?

Could you give us a minute?

Yes.

Is your girlfriend around?

-No.
-Sure?

She's always hovering, isn't she?

Your reports
are really good, Gabrielito.

You're truly making people downstairs
shit their pants. Well done, dude.

Like my dad says:

There are two kinds of people
in this world.

The ones who stick their dick in,

and the ones who take it in, asshole!

What kind are you?

No, I said asshole for myself.
That's what my dad says it to me.

I didn't mean you.

The point is, stick it to them.

Okay.

Listen.

How about Paruro's new conquest?

You're fucking joking!

I thought that firefighters
didn't step on each other's hose,

but I guess Paruro didn't get the memo.

I thought I'd gotten rid
of that slut, fuck!

She's here all the time!

She comes up and down,
brings coffee, makes faces at me.

I can't find a way to tell Paruro
not to let her up anymore.

You and I should
go out and party, Gabrielito.

Drink a bottle or two.

Or two, my treat.

You can tell your aunt
to party with us.

Let me tell you she's a blast!

Let's do it!

We'll go soon.

I promise.

May I?

Gabrielito.

Why didn't you tell me?
Liz is wild.

She fucks like the devil.

I'm crazy about her.

Myrna is furious,
she wants my head on a stake.

Verónica wants something similar.

These are good times
for me, Gabrielito.

I'm glad you can get it up with Liz.

Well, I just wanted to remind you
about those reports. Bring them up.

I'm going back to my floor.

"I'm going back to my floor."

I didn't know
you were so sensitive, Parurito.

I'm not here to talk to you.

You.

-What's your name?
-María.

María.

Good.

As of today, you will go upstairs
for me to give you orders.

You won't talk to anybody else.

Is that clear?

Yes.

Proceed.

Hey!

What's going on?

Hey.

Come here, come here!

Stop crying, idiot!

CHAPTER 4
"THE STORY OF MY HATRED"

This is a friendly company

where employees don't have to punch
their cards in and out,

and in exchange their wages
are a piece of shit.

There's a precise point where
prints have to be discarded

and many points in between
where they are acceptable.

Now, I have to push that margin
as much as necessary

of what is acceptable.

This is the story of my hatred.

GABRIEL LYNCH
PRINT DIVISION MANAGER

The new reports are also very good,

Gabrielito.

You sure are making them
shit their pants.

You're sticking our prick in them.

Did I tell you what my dad
says about...?

Yes, you did. You told me.

You look tired.

My hands really hurt a lot, Gabriel.

Those nails fucked up my life.

Gabriel Lynch, my brother Diego.

My brother Diego, Gabriel Lynch.

Will you give us a moment, Gabrielito?

Of course.

Of course.

Your husband is here.

I know.

He seemed angry.

Did he?

Must be because his father
is hospitalized again.

He said the coughing is worse
and he's in excruciating pain.

He can cough out his lungs
as far as I'm concerned.

I'm seeing Ricardo,
the Head of Accounting.

-The fat guy?
-Yes.

He must be jealous as shit.

Yes, but he makes good conversation.

What about you?

How's it going with Ugly Betty?

She looks like she's wild.

What do you want?

A man. Or many, I don't know.

For my daughter to be all right,

and meet people.

And kill them?

And kill them, right, sometimes.

Coming?

The Boss is acting like a madman.

He came down
and asked for some reports.

He's talking about
his car being burned

and the guy that was killed.

Okay.

Do you want... anything else?

Nothing.

Gabrielito?

The reports you were asking for.

My dad...

I have to call my dad.

You do that.

Hey.

What?

I don't fell well, Gabrielito.

I think I took a pill,

but then I forgot
that I had taken it already.

Now I'm totally fucked up.

It seems like it's time
for you to go home.

What you need is company.

That will cheer you up.

My treat.

I've lived like the secret son
of a king for a long time

waiting for a courtier to rescue me.

Of course nobody rescued me.

Nobody rescues anybody.

So, I decided to stick to the
fundamentals of successful crooks.

Forget compassion altogether.

My father used to say
that all diseases have a cure

if the patient has the will.

I'd like to see someone cure me.

I'd like to see that.

He quit.

He arrived first thing
in the morning, a wreck.

He put everything in boxes

and then he quit.

The bosses are gathered upstairs.

I want a leather jacket.

I'm turning into a jerk, aren't I?

What?

-Did you hear about Mario?
-What?

It seems he's leaving.

He came down a while ago to give away
his mug and imported coffee.

His coffee?

Get out, leave me alone. Go, get out!

Don't touch me!

María?

Find out who kept the jerk's
coffee bags and bring them to me.

Nobody else can have them.

Bring them up, hurry.

Yes, sir.

Yes?

Yes, sir.

What can I do for you?

HUMAN RESOURCES