Move your fat ass, you A-town motherfucker.
Shut the fuck up, Bernie. My fucking head's about to explode here.
That guy sure messed you up.
Yeah, well, lever see him again, he's dead.
Not so pretty now, hey, pretty boy?
I look like I tried to fuck a reluctant panda bear.
Yeah, well, you did worse than that, huh?
Oh, don't fucking talk about it. It didn't happen, okay?
- Where the fuck are they? - It's okay.
We have ten minutes yet.
Oh, Frank. Stop giving out like an old lady, will you?
I just want everyone to go home happy from this too.
Exactly. Do you hear that, Frank?
Fucking hate this shit.
You're take no notice of him.
The baggage handler's lost his charm at the airport, apparently.
Look at this fucking mulignan.
Man, her asshole brother's got his feet so far under the fucking table.
You know what you should do?
Should just tell him to leave.
I can't, man. It's all part of the deal.
Man, I hate house guests.
Yesterday he put my shoes out on the porch and polished them.
I mean, what the fuck does that even mean?
Oh, Jesus. You got any headache pills?
Nah, I got smack.
Talk about a fucking sledgehammer to crack a nut.
Here you go.
What your old lady say?
I ain't been home yet.
Oh, right.
- She's pregnant. - Aw, shit. Again?
Considering how much you hate her, you sure seem to fuck her a lot.
Where are we going?
So what's the deal with you and Frank?
It's Frank's job to make sure that no one gets in my way.
And it's my job
to make sure that Frank doesn't get in his own way.
Hey, Saint Francis.
- What's going on? - Get over here.
- Hey! - Where the fuck have you been?
My sister's worried sick about you.
Don't worry about it. When she's pregnant, she's sick all the time.
Jeez.
- What happened to your eye? - Huh?
Listen, son, don't you show me up.
Trying to help you here,
give you an opportunity, bring you in.
Is that why you polished my shoes?
What?
I got work gloves.
Come here, Justine.
You're not FBI, are you?
- I'm I.I.F.M. - What?
In it for myself.
- All right? - Fuck!
- Fucking sort it out. - Jesus, Frank.
My fucking balls, man!
Get over here. Straighten up.
You look like the fucking Hunchback of Notre Dame.
Fuck! My beautiful balls.
Now, introduce yourself to the lady.
Sure.
- Stevo. - Justine.
Justine. Enchanté.
Charlie's missing an angel tonight, huh?
Oh, my God, beautiful.
Great.
So, Stevo, where did you get the vehicle?
Oh, the vehicle? That's cool. No, I did exactly what I was told.
Yeah? That's a first, eh?
Hey, Justine, I need some of that brown stuff
you girls like to trowel all over your face.
What do you mean? Like powder?
Yeah, yeah.
I feel a little conspicuous with the black eye.
- Oh. - Yeah, Stevo, I'll do it for you.
- I'll help you out here. Now, how's that? - Hey, careful.
- There we go. - Careful, Chris. It's bruised.
- I'll do it. I'll do it. - I'll do it. I'll do it.
I'll fucking do it.
So where's our guy, then?
- We didn't come 3,000 miles for the view. - Here he is. I'll handle it.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down there, sweetheart.
Christopher?
So what do you think?
Sure, we'll give him his day in court.
I don't like his jumper.
A thousand apologies. Hate it when people are tardy.
This is Ord.
It's good to meet you boys. Thanks for coming out.
Maybe later.
You didn't masturbate before you got here,
- did you. - You what?
Told you, I don't wanna work with anybody who's carrying a loaded weapon.
So if you need time, go find yourself a dark corner.
I'm just saying relax. It's all good.
If you wouldn't mind, as we agreed upon...
- I'll check for wires. - I've got a gun.
Good. Well, soon you guys will have even more.
Come on, big guy.
You know, where I'm from, boy, we'd be halfway up the aisle by now.
Would you hold your makeup there for me?
Thank you.
- All right there, Smokey. - You smell good.
Thank you. It's your mother.
Okay, no wires. If no one's listening in,
I guess we're all friends.
The, uh...
The fag and the retard are an interesting choice of muscle
to bring to the party.
- Just right there. - Ow!
You ain't got them blended.
You know what? Fuck the small talk.
Let's buy some guns, eh?
All right. Step into my office.
What the fuck are you doing?
I'm leaving a trail of breadcrumbs.
So, what did Justine tell you about these people?
Why don't we hear it from you, fella?
Okay, I appreciate that you're a serious guy,
I mean, fuck Britain and all that, but you're on a different level now.
The guy who represents this merchandise,
his lawn is bigger than your whole fucking country.
As big as your fucking mouth, then.
Tell me, Frank, is it true you people live in houses with mud floors?
- What? - I'm just saying, you know,
my ancestors probably ate raw onions and fucked goats, so...
Nah, I doubt they were that advanced.
Oh, God damn it.
- Watch yourself there. - Look at this shit.
It's a real fucking palace.
Hey, beggars can't be choosers, Cinderella.
I wonder what kind of factory it was.
Well, whatever it made, nobody wants it now.
Ugh. It's cold.
You think this is cold, sweetheart?
You should try Holywood in February.
Freeze the tits of a brass witch.
It's so fucking dirty. Who put all the lights on?
Only thing a girl needs to stay warm in Los Angeles is a flexible outlook.
I'm not talking about your Hollywood.
I'm talking about the real Holywood.
- Holywood, County Down, Northern Ireland. - You know we've walked like half a mile?
Not your Cecil B. DeMille bullshit.
You guys got a Hollywood, too?
Have to carry all the fucking guns through here, all the way over there.
That's what I like about this business.
It can be financially rewarding and you can still learn something new
- everyday. - Stick with your ABCs, son.
Right, introductions, yeah?
Come out, come out, wherever you are.
Vernon, why don't you come join us? The gang's all here.
Here we go.
Vernon is in the blue suit.
Howdy, boys. How's the digs?
- Who's the other fella? - Martin.
He was a Panther, but it didn't work out.
Vernon was misdiagnosed
as a child genius and he never got over it.
- What is he now? - Let me do the talking, eh, boy?
An international asshole.
Vern, these are the boys from across the pond.
Well, everyone's from somewhere, eh?
Justine. How are you, doll?
As gorgeous as ever,
well, you've, uh, put on a bit of weight.
- Did somebody impregnate you? - Fuck off.
- Good. There's still a chance. - What the fuck is that accent?
Uh, I think it's like, Swiss or something.
- Austrian. - Oh, right. That's it. Austrian.
What do you say we check out the march?
That's why we're here, eh?
She's a bit shy.
So, you'll be pleased to know
that I have a whole truckload of these gorgeous dolls just outside
and they're all looking for dance partners.
It's not what we ordered.
Eh...
You're a little bit rude, eh?
I was presenting the merch and you start chirping the bird there.
He says it's not what he ordered.
- Fuck, really? Uh... - Let me explain.
- What, uh... What did you order? - So, we ordered M16s.
You've heard of them? Now, this is an AR70.
Different weapon.
It's not what I ordered.
You should teach your boy some manners.
Learn a thing or two from the English.
Keep your shit together.
Martin, stay out of this.
I'm not running a fucking pizza delivery service.
You want the weapons or you don't want the weapons?
- Look... - They're assault rifles.
You said rifles. Justine, you said rifles, doll.
- They're fucking rifles. What do you want? - Look.
- This is what was available. - You're not gonna find anything else
of this quality or consistency on the market.
Not in the numbers that you need or in the time that you've got.
He has a point.
Where from?
Stop with the questions.
You're a curious fucker, eh? We're gonna get on, you and me.
- They're surplus. - So fucking curious about the world.
Fucking hell, man.
Look, they're surplus. They won't be missed, all right?
All right, take her for a spin.
Give us the mag.
No manners again. So simple.
Just load it, Martin. Just a fucking "please."
Like fuck I'm gonna load it.
What are you doing in front of the client?
Get your shit together.
If you want something done right, you do it yourself, eh?
- Amen, brother. - Okay.
Yep.
I think we got off on... a little bit of a bad footing there, eh?
I think what we need to do is just start afresh,
so I'm gonna be the gentleman in this relationship
and I'm gonna chuck in a free box of lube 'cause she likes to run wet.
Whoa, whoa. Slow the roll for a minute.
Public safety announcement while the rifle's hot.
I'm gonna pull my pistol out. Nothing personal.
Knock yourself out, Sparky.
Okay, just try not to hit any of the metalwork,
'cause I don't wanna get any of those blim-burns on my new s...
-...suit.
Sorry, what was that?
This is from Savile Row...
I don't know about you guys, but I for one think
Vern's merchandise is a real gas.
My guess is you're whatever you're paid to be, pal.
Do you see what you did here?
Good.
Okay.
I'll overlook it this time.
Mazel tov.
So, let's open Pandora's box, eh?
All right, my, uh...
Associate.
...associate here will do the count,
see if it's all there.
It's better this way. The machine don't lie.
Gordon. Gordon, are you sure that radio is on?
Course it's fucking on.
Good, 'cause I don't wanna miss my cue.
What the fuck you gonna do?
High-kick your way in there with a fucking top hat and cane?
And, plus, it's my cue, okay?
Whatever.
- I'm just ready, you know? - Yeah?
And I want Vern to know that.
Vern doesn't give two fucks about what you want.
Vernon can't even see you, you're that small.
Plus you need to wash them knuckles or they're gonna get infected.
Fuck me.
You like John Denver?
I must admit, I never tire of looking at it.
I never tire of looking at you, doll.
So what do you know? It's all there. On the nose.
- That's heart-warming. - And you can keep the case as well.
- Oh. - Yeah, I was going to.
Thanks, eh?
Real nice teeth.
- Looks like a fucking cock jockey. - Yeah.
You can bring the girls in.
On the way.
Okay, so, Vern's boys are gonna drive the car in
- they're gonna put the crates of guns... - Get your fucking hands off me.
Grandpa, you gotta relax.
They're gonna put the guns right here. When they are done, they're gonna leave.
Then Tweedledee and Tweedledum
can load them up into your little clown car.
And you're the first one I'm gonna take down
if this goes south, big lad.
- That's probably a good idea, Grandpa. - I reckon.
Oops.
- Oh, sorry, you're just... You're molting. - Hmm.
Bigfoot.
So before we head home, do you wanna go for dinner with me?
Oh, wow. I didn't factor that in.
Well, I mean,
- I know we just met and all, but... - Mm-hmm.
It's unlikely that I'll be over here again
before too long, so I thought we could maybe...
...grab a bite.
Wow, when you put it like that,
it doesn't sound like a very good investment.
It doesn't sound like a very good investment.
Yeah, fuck it. But you know, fuck it.
- Forget I said that. - I will.
Oh... fuck it.
Fuck.
Come here.
Where you going? What's the matter with you?
Holy mother of fuck.
That's the guy who attacked me last night.
That's the guy. That's the guy from the bar.
That's not good. That's not good. That's very...
Bernie...
Boss, keys.
Okay.
Lekker, man.
You know what this is? It's the key, key to victory.
For you and the Irish.
A van full of AR70s. Fantastic.
Just let it go. Let it go, mate.
- We didn't wanna get in the way. - You didn't wanna get in the way?
What are you, on holidays or something?
You're supposed to be helping with the van.
I'm paying you 100 bucks to help with the van.
Get over there, all right?
- Okay? - Sure. Sure.
- Oh, we... we thought that... - Shh. Just do it.
Sure. You can't fucking go there.
I'm telling you, you're gonna be so happy with these weapons,
you're gonna come back for more.
All right, Gordon, let's get those boxes down.
- You take that end. - You're gonna be like my bird,
- begging for more, eh? - Yeah, bring them over here,
- stack them up like a... - Yeah
- Yup, you got it. - Okay.
- Come on, guys. Come, come. - Harry, for future reference,
let's not drop the automatic weapons.
Swell, man. Stop fucking complaining.
Let's get the job done.
I've never, uh, I've never been to Ireland.
You what?
I said... I said, I've never been to Ireland, eh?
Oh.
You should go, man. They'd, uh, they'd love you over there.
- Perfect. - Fuck, still more, eh?
All right, guys, come on. Let's get this done.
Shit, I didn't know it was this many.
I think you might owe me a bit of extra boodle, eh?
One, two, three...
Hey. Come here.
I'm mingling. What the fuck?
What about the ammo? Back of the truck.
- Oh, yeah. I'm... I'm sorry. - Watch my fucking fingers!
I think that just saying no is kind of a reflex.
- Yeah. Fuck it. - It's stupid.
No, we're not giving them that, man.
I told you, I only brought that along in case
I had to sweeten the deal.
- The Irish went for the AR70s. - You're the man, man.
We give the M16s to the Libyans, eh?
Vern and learn, baby.
We should probably lock it up, just in case they see it.
I think we could.
We could probably both use a drink after this.
Yeah, that'd be nice. I'd like that.
- Last one. - Yeah, you're right.
Okay, just don't let them see you. Just do it subtly.
- As soon as they're done packing. - Oh, God!
- What? - Jesus!
What happened?
- I got a splinter. - Let me see that.
Vern and fucking learn.
Been dealing with this fucking guy all day.
Hold still. Let me take it out with this.
- Fuck off! - Pussy.
A fucking splinter. Are you serious?
Sorry, boss. Harry distracted me.
- I just suddenly feel a little bit sick. - Really? Really?
- Yeah. - Yeah?
- Yeah, I think... - Sympathy's in the dictionary
between "shit" and "syphilis," son, all right?
Get the fuck over there. You make me look stupid.
Three birds in a nest.
Do your puking when you're walking.
- Go, go, go. - All right, Frank.
Can you open up the rest of them?
Here it is, eh?
- The rest are all like that. - Yeah, open the rest of 'em.
- You're fucking kidding. - No.
- There's three in every box. - Good.
- It's, uh, ten boxes, 30 like we agreed. - Vern.
We covered this. Transparency, remember?
Okay. Okay, mate. Harry, open them all.
The customer's always right.
You're not very trusting, eh, Irish?
I'm English, but I'm English-South African.
It's different. Trust's not your thing, eh?
Son of a fucking bitch!
- Jesus. What the fuck? - ...piece of shit!
Step in there, man!
Come here, you fucking junkie.
I'll fuck you up again, you fucking piece of shit.
- Leave it, will you? - Calm the fuck down.
Blah, blah, blah, you fucking knuckle-dragger.
All right, Stevo.
...just calm that little dog.
FYI, your breath stinks of shit and you got a serious case of BO.
All right, you mark my words, you filthy addict!
Eat wood, you fuck!
Oh, shit.
- Whoa! Hold on! - Sorry!
- You fucking wanker! - Sorry.
- You little fucking cocksucker! - Vern, Vern, Vern. Hey, hey.
We got the money. The deal's done. No use.
Whoa, whoa, whoa.
What are you fucking doing, you fucking clown!
- Prick. - I swear to God,
you're a waste of fucking skin.
- Unprovoked. - It was uncalled for.
- Took me on the... on the pip. Unprovoked. - I know, I know. Does it hurt?
- You fucking bottled her... - No, no, it doesn't hurt.
- I'm from Africa, man. - Come over here.
- Africa's not for sissies. - I understand.
Fuck it, I don't even... I don't even feel it.
But it's the principle, doll.
- Fuck, he really got you. - Yeah, principle, yeah?
- Oh, God. - Oh, fuck, okay.
It's all right, I got a handkerchief.
- Fix you right up. - Okay, okay.
The fuck's going on? Eh?
Let them deal with it. Let them deal with it.
- You're fine right here with me. - All right.
All right. All right. All right.
- Little bit of a newsflash. - Please.
Harry here says that Junkie Joe over there
did something pretty unconscionable last night.
I'll get to the bottom of this.
All right, listen, his name's Steven.
There's something wrong with him, okay? Apologies.
That's a dirty name around here, all right?
- Okay. - Okay, all right.
The suspense is killing me. What... what did Steven do?
That fucking junkie came on to my cousin last night at the Harlequins.
And when she wouldn't suck his fucking dick, he bottled her.
- You've got to be kidding me. - What?
I'm serious as fucking cancer.
She's scarred, man, permanently, and she's 17.
Hang on, Harry. Is this true, Gordon?
It's unfortunate, but it's true.
The place erupted like fucking Vesuvius, man.
There's not a stick of furniture left in the place, for real.
If you were to walk into Harlequins tomorrow night
with his head on a fucking stick, you'd be a hero, man.
Why would you even say that? Why would you say that?
What are you doing? You're just making it worse.
Everybody, take a chill pill, okay? Just calm the fuck down.
Now, listen here.
- We'd like to leave with our money... - Uh-huh.
And I'm sure that you boys would like to leave
- with the weapons, okay? - Uh-huh.
Mmm-hmm.
- This is not good for business. - Mmm-hmm.
Well, you know, you know, bringing AR70s to an M16 deal
is not good for business.
Neither is bringing a sex pest.
It's under control, doll. I got this.
The bird has a point. Okay?
- We'd like to trust you... - Uh-huh.
...but we can't because your boy
- Okay. - ...has been disrespectful.
All right, fair enough.
- Okay? - Just give me a minute. All right, enough.
- Hey? - You all right, Chris?
Get out of my...
Shit.
He's doing the right thing.
Jesus Christ, get the fuck off me!
That's the hiding of his fucking life.
Why don't you fucking tickle him to death?
Fucking bottled a fucking woman?
- ...what? - Is that your thing?
Is that your fucking thing, Stevo, huh?
I swear on my wife's life, what the...
- He bottled him, doll. - Who does that?
- I would never do that. - No, no, no.
- I would never lay my hands on a woman. - I know. I know, you never have.
You gotta believe me, Frank,
he's confusing me with some other handsome fucker.
- Frank, seriously. - All right?
As God is my witness, I did not bottle that slut.
- Right, you fuck! - Frank, please!
I swear to sweet Jesus.
Look, he's family, Chris, all right?
- So I should be the one that... - Fuck, Frank!
Fuck, Frank!
I'm fucking telling you. Do you understand me?
I'm gonna fucking bury you in a grave.
- Piece of shit. - There you go.
Don't kill me, Frank.
They're taking care of their own, all right?
No, no, they... they... they've done it.
- Just... - All right.
You're fucking going out there
- and you're gonna fucking apologize. - Okay, so...
Steven has been reprimanded, all right?
He's gonna... he's gonna pay for your cousin's, um, hospital bills.
He's gonna write
- a sincere letter of apology. - That's great.
That's great. He's paying for the bills and a letter in... in... in his blood.
- In his own fucking blood if needs be. - In his blood.
Are you kidding me, man? A fucking letter?
- Can we just get back to the guns? - A fucking letter?
Maybe she doesn't read. Maybe she wants it drawn.
Like a little, remorseful pony.
- She can fucking read, Ord! - That... stop it!
- Wanna do this? - Back off. Calm down.
- Fucking relax. - Steven's gonna apologize.
See? There you go.
- Let him do it. - I'm calm.
Man to man.
About last night...
I'm real sorry.
- That's great. - There you go.
That's great. There you go.
I'm really sorry.
I'm really sorry, guys.
'Cause I came so hard in your cousin's mouth
that I think I knocked some of her
- rotten fucking teeth out! - Whoa, whoa, whoa!
You're gonna have to pick 'em out of her fucking stools
at the fucking hospital!
- I'm gonna give him a hiding. - Fucking cocksuckers!
Shut that motherfucker up!
You said he was gonna apologize. What was that?
- Alright? - How many times have I told you?
That's clear provocation.
Vern, you're not helping. Alright?
Just cool it, Harry, okay?
Just cool it down. Just fucking drop it, Harry.
Put one of them in your fucking mouth.
Fuck off back to Austria!
Big fucking mouth on a little lad.
- Muzzle that one. - Okay, okay! Enough.
The fuck is wrong with you, Frank? You bring a druggie, fucking...
You bring a fucking...
Hey! Who are you talking druggie? You know nothing about the lad.
You're only making it worse. Now shut the fuck up.
We don't need you yelling at him. Calm down.
Who gives a shit anyway?
Hey!
What the fuck are you doing with my gun, Harry?
- No, no, Harry, Harry. Harry, no! - Suck on this.
Some fucker's gonna die!
Calm down!
You're just winded. You're all right
- I've got it under control. - Will you control your fucking man?
- I've got him. - Come here, you fucking cocksucker!
Fuck you!
- Fuck. - I've been shot!
Ord! Ord!
I've been shot. I've been fucking shot.
- He shot me. - I got you. Come here.
- Fuck. - He barely nicked you, Vern. You're fine.
Eh?
You're gonna be okay. It's mostly the suit.
Is the bullet not in there, doll?
It just looks like it's the shoulder pad.
My fucking suit!
Chris!
Frank!
Ord, my gun's jammed.
Christ. It's usually so reliable, man.
- Fuck. - Dust got in there.
Here, take it.
Don't shoot! The deal's off!
Just have to wait for him to show me his little pip.
Keep cool out there.
I got him.
Cocksucker!
- He's still moving, Vern. - Eh?
You fucking bastards!
Chris is hit, Frank!
Fuck!
Will everybody calm the fuck down!
No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no.
- They shot my boy. - Oh, shit.
- Stand up. - Martin.
You bring that fucking money over here right now.
- Harry, did you get shot, you idiot? - Fuck!
Stevo! Stevo, you all right?
Fuckers!
You okay, Stevo?
Chris, you all right?
Frank! Frank, let's get out of here, Frank!
Shut the fuck up.
- Shit. - All right, I'm coming over.
- You all right? - Yeah, I'm good.
I'm... I'm hit, but I'm good.
I'm not leaving a case full of boodle out there, okay?
- Of course not. - Ord, cover me.
- I'm going for the boodle. - Wait, Vernon.
You don't wanna do that. Th...
Fucker.
- Stop fucking shooting, man! - You okay, Vern?
One shot me, man! I'm shot...
Vern, shut up!
Fuck you, Chris!
Fuck!
Ord, what's happening?
Show us your big face.
Please, nobody do anything!
Stay back, sweetheart.
Fuck, fuck. I'm running, I'm running. Nobody shoot!
Stay down, please, Vern.
It's not gonna happen, Ord.
- He's really heavy. - Come on.
Load for... load for Verny. Yes!
- Come on, Vern. Make your move! - Come on, please say something?
Vern, stay down.
It's too late. I've been insulted.
Let me get him!
Oh, fuck. Holy Jesus.
Here we go. God damn it!
Oh! Now we're cooking!
Hey, Ord, bet you thought you were too handsome to get shot, huh?
I'm just impressed you haven't needed a nap yet, Francis.
Martin, look at me. Look at me.
Look at me. Look at me. You're gonna be okay.
You're gonna be okay. Just say something.
What the fuck?
Gordon, over here.
Gordon, you all right?
What the fuck is that now? Who's shooting that?
- Frank? - Oi!
Who the fuck is shooting at us now?
- You good? - What the fuck was that?
Sounds like a fucking rifle.
Move back! Move back!
What the fuck?
Redeem yourself and get that case.
You get the fucking case, asshole. Fuck you, man.
Ah!
Whatever. I forgot whose side I'm on.
Oh, fuck, fuck.
- Doll! - What?
Go for the case.
You're a bird. They're not gonna shoot the bird.
- Just go for the case. - Don't... you get the fucking case!
Okay, let's try something.
Fuck!
Shit! Shit.
Jesus. F...
Great.
Ord, get the case.
Got it, Vern.
Go for the case.
No.
No, what are you doing? Not that case!
Hang in.
Stop fucking shooting!
Did you cheaters bring a sniper?
Not with us!
He's not with us.
Sounds like a fucking Garand.
Someone's firing a carbine behind me.
Vern, your friend needs serious help.
He'll have to wait. I'm a bit preoccupied right now.
Shit.
- Fuck! - All right, little wallflower.
Don't be shy. Come out and play.
Fuck!
- Give me the fucking gun. - Give me that fucking...
- Let it go. Let it... - Not a fucking chance.
Ord!
Ord! Ord!
Ord, I'm taking fire! Cover me! Cover me! I'm coming in.
I'm taking fire!
- Here. Here I come. - I got your back. Move.
Christ!
- You all right? - Yeah.
- You still breathing? - Yeah.
Two shooters. One behind you.
One at two o'clock.
I'm gonna flank that fucker, eh?
He's dying everyone stop it. Just stop it.
- Stay with me. - Leave him. He's done. Come on.
Come on, come on. Come with me.
Oh, fuck!
- Shit. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. - Oh, sure.
I can't believe that I gave a shit about your cousin. You little asshole!
Fuck! You fuck!
Ah! Fucking bastard!
Ah, no!
Frank. Over here, Frank.
- Fuck. - Chris, you all right?
No.
Fuck.
Harry? Harry, are you okay?
Go on. Go on, keep going. Get up.
All right.
All right. All right, nice and steady.
Bernie!
- Just taking a fucking walk. - What the fuck are you doing, Bernie?
Aim with two hands, Vern.
Fuck.
- Ah! - No fucking way!
I nailed him.
Nah, I'm all right, Stevo.
- Great shot, Vern. - I fucking nailed him.
I'm all right.
Frank, he shot Bernie in the back!
Bernie, get up!
Quit your fucking whining, Stevo.
- You fucking knuckle-dragger. - You fucking cocksucker.
- Bernie! - Gordon.
Yeah?
I'll give you my fucking Rolex, if you go for that case right now.
Your Rolex is a fake, Vern.
Don't do this to me, Bernie. What am I gonna tell your mother?
I hate these fucking freelance jobs.
- You're gonna make me fucking puke, Stevo. - Shut the fuck up, man!
I'm gonna fucking kill these bastards, fucking cocksuckers.
You're fucking dead, you fuck!
Piece of shit!
This is legit. It's worth £700, mate.
I'm telling you, Vern, it's a fake.
- I don't want your fucking watch. - Fuck me!
These bastards should fucking hang their heads in shame
for what they done today.
I know I speak for everybody when I express my sympathies to Steven
for the loss of his special friend.
Fuck Steven, man. He started the whole thing.
He shot the boy.
I'm not dead.
I'm just regrouping.
Fucking hang their head in shame for what they done today.
That's right, you're a fucking angel, man.
You're a fucking angel sent from heaven,
that's what you are.
Anyway, I'm sure Bernie's off to a better place.
Maybe he'll even make something of himself down there.
I'm fucking grieving here!
Fucking grieving.
I'm coming for you, man.
I'm gonna blow your fucking head off.
You fucking try it, you cocksucker!
- Cover me. I need to come over. - Fine, Vernon.
- We need to strategize. - Okay.
You still collecting a pension, Frank?
Fuck off.
All right, I'll mark you as present on the roster.
Justine?
Here!
Good girl. I like your style.
This goddamn dust, it's bringing on my allergies.
Shut the fuck up, Gordon.
Fuck you, Harry.
You'll always be in my thoughts, Bernie.
They'll never take away the good times.
I think something actually just... hit my head. I'm just...
Just a little thing.
A scratch.
It was nothing.
Chrissy,
do you remember that time Frank got...
got so drunk he stripped down to his Y-fronts
at Kieran's wake and cried over the coffin like a baby?
Oh, you fucking asshole.
No comment!
That was the last time he had a drink. Right, Frank?
Frank, you're an alcoholic?
Recovering.
Somebody better tell me
who invited these gatecrashers?
Yeah, who were those gatecrashers, Vern?
Mmm.
Steve. Stevo.
Hey!
How many?
Oh, come on, for fuck's sake.
Tall one.
How many fuckers are over there? Oi.
What?
- Never mind. - Steve.
You, fucking chocolate teapot.
Huh?
How many?
Fuck you, Frank.
Yeah, lucky thing your friend Vern's too cheap to pay for good shooters.
They couldn't be with Vernon.
Must have been someone that got wind of the deal
and then decided to chance it.
Fucking Stevo and his big fucking mouth.
What the fuck is Chris doing with Justine?
She's tending... She's tending to his wounds.
- Vern, go shoot him. - Has he kidnapped her?
Stop. I don't wanna die.
You're not gonna die. You're gonna be fine.
I'm just gonna check on Frank.
What you're gonna do...
When you get out of here,
you find the first restaurant, and I'll meet you there.
All right?
All right.
They're playing us, okay? She's on their side.
And these urks are with them.
Yeah, but, Vern, one of them shot her.
Or did we shoot her?
Fuck.
You've got two choices.
One, you distract them with your badinage and I leave.
My what?
Or two,
you kill all of these motherfuckers and I leave.
Now's a good time to bring up our contract.
For the amount of money we agreed on,
there were no extenuating circumstances like this.
What the fuck is wrong with you?
How can you talk about money at a time like this?
Get me an ambulance!
I know that voice.
We can't leave here empty-handed.
Where the fuck is Leary when you need him, eh?
Howard Mathison?
Ord, if I'd known you was in on this, I wouldn't have taken the job.
That geriatric reprobate's supposed to be retired.
What?
- What are you doing? - I need help!
- Ord. - You've no idea.
Protecting our asses, Vern.
Wooden boxes don't stop bullets.
The college fees, the medical bills.
Plus Rita left me.
I hooked up with this Asian chick.
She cleaned me out.
Howard, I'm gonna stack the bodies of your 11 children
on top of each other and burn them on your lawn
if you don't tell me who hired you right now!
Tell us, Howard!
That's good. That's good. That's what I'm paying you for.
Don't listen to him. He's not the boss of you.
Fuck you, you junkie!
The junkie's still fucking alive?
I'm no rat.
Gonna die anyway.
Seeing as it's you, Ord...
I'll tell you.
It was...
My guys.
Fucking made it.
Howard's done talking.
Ord, I'm feeling light-headed.
I think I'm losing too much blood.
Relax. It didn't even hit an artery. You're fine.
You got at least an hour and a half.
Eh?
It's the golden hour and a half. It's a rule.
How long's... How long's it been?
Ord!
What?
We're here for the guns, right?
You're here for the money.
Let Justine get out.
What are you doing?
Right, she makes contact
with our respective people, they come find us.
Everyone's happy.
- Yeah. - No.
- She can leave. - What are you doing?
Good.
Justine, you're good to go.
Thank you.
There you go.
All right.
I'll do it if Vernon promises not to shoot me in the back.
She's making it personal now.
Promise her.
Cross my heart, doll.
Okay.
Ord, I shot that guy.
That's the death penalty in Massachusetts.
Yeah. I vote we barbeque this whole fucking place.
There's more blood on the floor here than a sausage factory, man.
You think this is a fucking senate committee?
- You don't get a vote. - Fuck you.
Shut up.
She's a snake in the grass.
- She was tending to him. - Okay, Vern, listen.
- Vern, shh. - She was tending... She's on their side.
Look at that. I told you, she's escaping.
Wake up and smell the Ricoffy, Ord.
There's a phone in this building.
If there's a phone, I can call the boys.
You're a fucking dead man, Vernon!
She's firing back. I told you, she's on their side.
'Cause you shot at her, Vern.
A pushy woman isn't sexy, Justine.
Chrissy thinks they are.
You come back here, Justine.
♪ Justine and Chrissy
♪ Sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G...
Frank, I'll shoot him in the head.
- Steven, Steven. - I'll shoot him in the fucking head.
- I will shoot him in the fucking head. - You keep this up,
I'll wash my fucking hands of you. All right?
I know what you're up to, Justine.
You fucking maniac. I'll shoot you myself.
- Nail her, Gordon. - Okay, boss.
There's a promotion in it for you, boy.
You fucking turncoat.
You don't even get an opinion. You fucking started this whole thing.
It's your fucking fault.
Ord, stop it, man.
What you doing, man? Stop it, Ord!
You think you're a big man. Look at you, you fucker.
Stop.
- Stop that! - Get off of me!
Come on!
Boys.
Boys, knock it off, man.
- Ow! - Man, watch the foot, will you?
Hey, what the fuck?
Hey, help me out here. Get this fucker loaded up.
- Stop. - ...you're a fucking kid.
You fucking baby.
- Stevo, here, take the radio. - What the fuck you gonna do?
- Give me that sand, give me cover. - Make sure she gets out of here.
Do you hear me? Make sure she gets out.
- Ord, stop it. - Stop it.
Ord, where you going? Ord, where you going?
Hey.
Ord, come back here!
- Come back here right now! - Oh, what is his fucking problem, man!
You sneaky fucker.
Fuck!
Get out of here, woman, for Christ's sake.
I'm going!
Fuck!
Oh, fuck!
I just shot Ord. He's gonna fucking kill me, man.
You smell of perfume.
It's beard oil.
- Fuck. Do it, Frank. - I can't get a clear shot at him.
Go, Ord! Nail him, boykie!
Oh, fuck!
What are you doing, Vern?
Huh?
You making a new suit over there?
Here, Chrissy, come on.
Oh, fuck.
Ah! My fucking leg, you've got my leg, you cunt!
Did you see that? That was me.
Fucking hell.
Yeah, I didn't see that, Steven.
You know why?
'Cause it fucking happened to me.
Huh?
Oh, yeah. That was fucking awesome.
You're a fucking hero.
Does anyone care what happened to me by any chance?
Save it for your fucking autobiography.
- Hey, Vern. - What?
I like your cardboard armor.
It's protection from infection.
Frank.
What?
Frank, one of us needs to get to this fucking phone.
I'll do it.
Rhodesian Special Forces trick.
No shit.
You know, I'm more likely to die from the germs
infecting the wound than any bullets.
Well, I guess you're covered.
You'll be fine, though. You've got about...
You've got about an hour 20
before you're in trouble with that wound and I've got to get to that phone.
Hey, Vern, is everybody like you where you come from?
Vern is a rare and mysterious jewel.
Feast your eyes, boykie.
Watch and Vern,
then go back to your miserable life.
All right, I'll see you later, Vern.
Where you running off to, Frank?
We're just getting started.
- Frank! - Ord, give us a hand, man.
Oh, fuck!
God!
Oh, fuck. Shit. It's me.
Justine, stay still!
Fuck. What the fuck?
- Martin. - The bullets.
Ah! Fuck. Fuck.
Go fucking get them.
God damn it!
Harry, move! Move.
Fuck!
Oh, fuck! Ah! Jesus.
Stop shooting, you assholes.
On, fuck.
So, Ord, are you gonna go pat down Martin's body?
Oh, you fucker.
Ten grand.
Fuck. Why not 20?
We'll leave an IOU for Vern. I'm sure he'll understand.
I see him. I see Frank. I see Frank. He's going for the phone! He's winning!
- Fuck. - Do you think Frank's okay?
- What do you care, huh? - I clipped his wing.
All right, I'm gonna go out there.
I gotta get the keys so I can open the van and get the bullets, Martin.
Steven?
Ste... Fuck.
Fucking brilliant. North face of the Eiger.
So that's what a fucking brain looks like.
Whoa! Fuck!
Man, I thought you were fucking dead.
Ord! Ord! Hey, get the fuck off of me.
You got shot in the head, Martin.
Where the fuck am I?
Hey, hey. Party Marty.
I know you.
- Come on, man. - Get the fuck out of there.
I just want my money.
It's okay. I'm not shooting. It's cool.
Stop running!
Jesus!
Ord? Yo.
Where's the fucking money?
Safe, man.
I put it in the Fireman's Fund.
Justine?
Justine!
Don't leave me in the dark, baby.
Think she made it?
Yeah, course she did.
Fuck!
Fucking stop!
Howard, you up there?
Yo, come down, man. It's cool. I know you fucked it all up.
What's your gun doing here, man?
Howard!
I'm not your boy, Vern!
Hey, Howard.
What are you doing all the way over there, man?
It was a simple fucking plan, man.
You fucked it up.
What the fuck are you looking at?
Get the fuck...
Give me a second. I'm just gonna reload.
Give me my fucking money!
Fuck!
- Don't do it, man. - No?
- You know where the money is? - It's right there.
Okay, look, it's all good.
That's beautiful.
Jesus-fucking-Christ.
All right, everybody hold your fire
until I find out if this motherfucker is dead this time.
Poke him in the eye. See if he flinches.
Justine!
You're scared.
I can feel it.
Look, I just want you to know,
before I do this for Vern,
I've been right where you are now.
I've scrabbled around in some lousy job,
I've made personal sacrifices,
only to have some fucking parasite
turn up at the last minute
and take all the credit.
That's why I appreciate the arts, you know?
If it wasn't for them,
then all we're doing... is just this.
Ow! Fuck! Fucking shot me!
You seem like a nice girl.
We can't all be nice girls.
God! No!
Ow! Fuck.
Fuck! You fucking shot me again!
You dropped this.
Oh, oh...
Oh, fuck.
Fuck.
Congratulations.
...Americans to receive a free lifetime supply
of Boardman's premier ground meat.
All you have to do to claim your prize...
- Stevo, you all right? - Yeah.
Yeah? I gotta go and check on Frank.
Keep an eye out, all right?
You stay here. You stay awake.
I tell you what,
we'll have a fucking cigarette.
Chrissy and Stevo have a fucking cigarette.
Mmm.
Remember, Stevo, stay awake for me, yeah?
'Cause if you go to sleep, you're dead.
- Yeah? - Okay.
Good man.
What the fuck?
Oh, men.
Fuck!
Wait.
I don't think so.
Frank.
Oh, Frank.
I see you, you fucking yeti.
Hello? Hello, Sandy.
Listen to me. Where's Leary? He didn't show.
Ooh, fuck!
It's fucking Chris, Sandy.
He's meant to be here. I'm fucking here. Where's Leary?
...look for fucking Brendan. Tell him I'm sorry.
Sandy?
Fuck!
Frank.
Chris.
Over here, Leary!
Leary, up here, boy!
Ah!
You fucking cunt!
Ow!
Leary!
Oh.
Holy shit!
Come on there, big man.
Fuck off, you freak of nature.
Stay the fuck down!
Oh, fuck.
- Oh, yeah! - Oh.
I'll get you home, Frank.
Don't worry, I'll get you home.
I'm sorry, pal.
Where do you think you're going, little Harry?
I'm going to the hospital.
To see my cousin.
Stop moving.
If you go any farther with that money, I'll shoot you in the head.
Fuck you, Ord.
I'm getting away, Ord.
See you 'round!
Don't wait up for me, Ord.
Damn.
You gotta smoke less dope
if you wanna hit something once in a while, Ord.
Fuck you, trash.
Start, you piece of junk.
Ah.
Let's go.
Here we go.
Come on, Ord.
That you, Harry?
Is that John Denver, Harry?
Four-eyed fucking faggot.
- What the fuck? - I'm still here.
I'll be the last man standing.
Ha!
Get the fuck out of here, you fucking zombie!
Nice ride!
Ah, get the fuck out of here!
I'd say we got about 15 minutes before the fuzz shows up.
Yeah? What do you wanna do?
Get a beer.
Sure. Why the fuck not?
Who's buying?
Technically, you are.
Yeah?
Hey, how about we go Dutch, eh?
Oh...
Oh, fuck!
- Get your fucking hands off. - Hey, hey, come on, come on.
- Fuck off. - Proud bastard.
Let's get the fuck out of here.
You could catch your death of cold in here.
Boy, they really did a number on you, didn't they?
Do you want me to hold that?
You know, I think I can manage.
Why don't you sit down right there?
Go grab a seat.
Fuck...
Oh, fuck. I think they shot Harry in the ass.
All right, I got a John Denver story for you.
So...
Huh?
You made it. Good for you.
Yeah.
I'm sorry, you got in the way.
Well...
Hey, who were the shooters?
Oh, I'm not good with names.
- Martin hired them. - Oh.
So, about dinner... can I take a rain check?
Hey, you take what you want, girl.