Original subtitles

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!