All language subtitles for Peaky.Blinders.S03E03.1080p.Bluray.x265-HiQVE_movieddl.me

MICHAEL: Until further notice,
no fraternising with the foreigners.

My son will walk
with any woman in this city.

JOHN: It would be hard for your son
to walk anywhere

with a bullet in each knee.

You said you wanted peace at home.

Now, we go on the offensive.

RUBEN: A woman of substance and class.

And I've painted many women.

There'll be no charge.

TOMMY: The name I've heard is Section D.

MPs, army officers...

When all we're trying to do
is save the country from revolution.

This is for the killing of the spy
and a down payment on future services.

TATIANA: Does your wife know
that the sapphire she is wearing

has been cursed?

Nothing on Earth would make me wear it.

For Angel!

(THEME SONG PLAYING)

ADA: He's back.

MICHAEL: Was he out there all night?

Every night since the funeral.

Comes back in the morning to see Charles
and feed the horses,

and when it gets dark,
he goes off again.

He used to sleep out when he was a kid.

Curly would find him in the pasture.

How's the baby?

ADA: He asks for him mum at night.

(CLICKS TONGUE) Tommy made a list.

He wants to see you two first.

-What about John and Arthur?
-(DOOR OPENS)

(DOOR CLOSES)

How are the books?

Unaffected.

Up slightly.

There's also been a threefold increase
in donations

to the Shelby Foundation charity.

The counsellor suggested naming the
new school "The Grace Shelby Institute."

Tell the counsellor the name "Grace
Shelby Institute" is acceptable to us.

(SNIFFS)

This is a list on the other things
I want doing.

That's all.

(CLEARS THROAT)

-Tommy.
-That's all, Pol.

Well done, both of you.

Right, let's go.

Uh, we've already seen him.

He wanted to see people
in a particular order.

I can normally read him, but he's
difficult to read, so be careful.

I thought it was
a fucking family meeting.

All of us together, I thought.

John, he's grieving.

To see everyone together
would be too much.

Yeah, well... Come on, John.

Arthur, we need him back.

Sabini and Solomons have already sent
condolences and flowers,

so it won't be long before they come
trotting up the A1 like wolves.

Go on. There's a timetable.

POLLY: Only good news.

There is only good news, Polly.

Who we fucking now?

Well, there he is.

Hi, Tom.

Hello, boys.

We, uh, didn't get a chance to see you
after the funeral.

Well, you disappeared on us, but, well,
me and John, we just wanna say that...

Arthur, shut up.

All right.

All right, talk to me.

We got to Angel at the hospital
where he laid. Cut his throat.

He's dead.

Cleared out the rest of the Italians
out of the south of the city.

JOHN: They mostly went to
the Black Country,

but we told Betty Kitchins
to keep her moving.

And Betty sends her condolences.

What about the old man?

We interrogated his boys.

Yeah, he went to Liverpool.

He's waiting
for an immigrant ship to New York.

When?

Berthed ship sails Saturday.

All right, I have contacts,
people in Cunard and Liverpool.

They'll have passenger lists.

They can get you into the point
of departure.

You pick him up,
and you bring him to me.

Who's he got travelling with him?

-His wife.
-What?

His wife.

So shoot her, and bring him to me.

Uh, Tommy, Mrs Changretta
was a teacher at our school.

She's a good woman, Tom, a good woman.

Well, if she's a good woman,
then she'll go to heaven, eh, Arthur?

(EXHALES) Just do what's on the list,
nothing else. Then burn it.

Don't speak on the phones.
The fucking Secret Service is listening.

(SIGHS)

I want the old man alive.
I wanna do it myself.

That's it. (CLEARS THROAT) You can go.

Come, John.

Tommy, if you haven't got a bird here,
you're gonna have to tell us something.

Ask Polly.

Not Michael?

What?

-Not Michael, no?
-No.

Not Michael, no. 'Cause
Michael deals with legitimate business.

You saw him before us.

John, not now.

Wait, what did you say?

You saw Michael before us!

Fuck's sake, John.

Because legitimate business, John,
is the priority.

-Legitimate business...
-Since when?

Since my fucking wife took a bullet
meant for me.

(SNIFFS) Oh, yeah. OK.

Yeah, so Secret Service.
Secret fucking Service...

Blah, blah, blah.
But you don't tell us shit.

We're a couple of fucking toy soldiers.

"Do this, John. Do that, John.
Kill your fucking teacher, John!"

This is how it's gonna be.

All right, listen to me.
There's gonna be a little war

in a little place
that no one gives a fuck about.

And the side that is gonna lose
needs a little bit of help.

And they're willing to pay.

When that business is done,
legitimate business is the priority.

Now, do what's on the list and fuck off.

(SNIFFS)

(EXHALES)

When are you coming back, hmm?

I'm back, Arthur.

ARTHUR: John, you're just as young.
JOHN: Cheers.

The thing is, we all naturally came
in here, where the servants eat.

It's nothing to do
with politics, Ada.

It's fucking freezing in the big room.

John, mind your language
in front of Carl.

Ada, we're in the servants' quarters

because it's where the fucking booze
is kept.

-Arthur, find better words!
-Yes.

Pol, does swearing in Gypsy count?

That's no reason for us to be speaking
Shelta in any case.

(ALL EXCLAIMING)

I'm just saying there is no need.

When she's drunk,
my wife can't speak fucking English.

-John!
-Fucking right!

POLLY: You dealt with it?

Incentives, no threats.

Implied consequences without
specific reference to physical harm.

That's why young Michael is the boss.

He knows better words, right, Pol?

Since when was I your boss, Arthur?

First, the boss meets you.
Then the workers meet you.

When did either of you two
do a day's work?

ARTHUR: In the old days, Finn,

family meetings
used to be all of us together.

POLLY: Arthur, shut up.

Now, me and John,

we're just fucking bin men
whose duty it is to obey.

Hmm?

Mrs Changretta.

Arthur, shut up.
Finn, go and get us cigars.

JOHN: So what are we gonna do
all night, eh? Climb fucking trees?

John, stop swearing
in front of the kids.

Yeah, and who said
you're staying the night?

ARTHUR: I know what we can do.

We get the guns out, John.

We go outside,
and we shoot some fucking pheasants.

(BOTH LAUGH)

-That's what the bosses do, isn't it?
-Yeah.

Fuck off, Arthur.

Fuck you just say to me?

I didn't ask for separate meetings
today, all right?

No. No, what the fuck did you just say?

'Cause I didn't fucking hear you right.

I didn't ask for separate meetings
today, all right?

Fucking pheasant.

-Carl!
-(LAUGHS)

You can't say things like that.

Now look what you've done.

All right, brothers.

It's just the fucking whisky talking.

I don't ask to be protected, all right?

POLLY: Right. Shut up.
The pair of you, sit down!

Sit down!

-Yeah, yeah, yeah.
-Look around you.

And look at this house.

Look where we are.

Look how far we've come.

I think it's about time
we all started acting

in a way more appropriate
to our station.

We're none of us bin men any more,
Arthur.

Tommy needs us all together.

I'd like to propose a toast.

(CLEARS THROAT)

It's a family united
that shall never be defeated.

-(DOOR OPENS)
-(FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING)

Tommy's gone. Swear to God,
he's in a wagon with Johnny Dogs.

Shit.

This is what he does now.

ARTHUR: Tommy! Wait!
POLLY: Arthur!

ARTHUR: Tommy!
POLLY: Arthur, let him go!

ARTHUR: Tommy! Tommy!
JOHN: Tommy! Tommy!

Tommy!

Walk on. Walk on.

JOHNNY: Tommy.
TOMMY: Walk on.

They're coming out in the drive.

-You're not gonna tell them?
-Tell them what?

That we're going to Wales.

I left a note.

Did you tell them
why we're going to Wales?

No.

At some point you're gonna tell me
why we're going to Wales?

Yeah, when we get there.

TOMMY: Walk on.

Should have brought
at least one woman, Tommy.

Johnny, it's a woman we're going to see.

-There, boy. Walk on. Walk on.
-Right.

Says he'll be back in Birmingham
in three days.

POLLY: (SIGHS) Let him go.

The important thing is,
if he says he'll be back, he'll be back.

Come on.
Let's go light a fire in the big room.

Let's go drink whisky, with water.

See to the horses, Johnny.

Aye, Tom.

(SIGHS)

So we'll go out through Meridian,
then into the Black Mountains.

-Here.
-(YELLS)

Here, give me some.

Boy.

Here you go.

Now, remember last night
when you asked after Mama?

She's gone, Charlie, and there's
a few things we need to get straight.

There's her photographs.

There's her clothes.

I'll keep things the way they are
in the room. (CLEARS THROAT)

Just keep things the way they are.

Here you go.

Yeah. Here you go.

I'm not much good, Charlie.

-(CHARLIE EXCLAIMS)
-You'll find that out soon enough.

She's not gonna be coming back,
so it's just you and me.

She'll be with us in our hearts
'cause we love her.

-JOHNNY: Tommy.
-Yeah.

This fucking horse of yours
won't come to me.

-All right, I'll be there. All right.
-Huh? Come on.

That was her favourite horse, Charlie,

and he's been all over the place
since she's gone.

-Tom?
-Yeah, you watch him.

I will. Oh, yeah.

Huh?

All right, now cock it with your thumb.

-(CHUCKLES)
-(GUN COCKS)

There you go. Now she's been cocked.

-She's alive in your hand.
-(CROWING)

It's like waking up a girl
when you cock that trigger.

She rolls over all sleepy-eyed
and she goes,

-"Michael. Michael."
-(JOHN CHUCKLING)

"What are you gonna make me do,
Michael?"

You boys are fucking crazy men.

-Yeah, but you feel it, though, right?
-Yeah.

You feel it.

Yeah, you can feel the power.

Now, squeeze it.

(GUNSHOT)

Powerful.

-Fucking useless.
-Piss off, John.

Michael, why does a pen pusher who sits
on his arse all day wanna fire a gun?

Hmm? Eh?

Cock it again.

-Cock it again.
-JOHN: Cock it again.

Round two.

-(GUN COCKS)
-ARTHUR: Mmm.

Look at that fucking face, John boy.

Look at that face.

Now he feels it.

But you won't feel nothing

until you point that thing on a man.

So do it.

There you go, young boss.

There you go. Now you feel it.

Now you feel what we feel.

This is what it's like.

Michael, that's a Webley.

Jumps on the hammer.

How does it feel, Michael, huh?

Better than having a pen
in your hand, isn't it?

More like having your cock in your hand.
Yeah.

Yeah, it is.

One squeeze.

(GRUNTS)

I'm gone.

I'm fucking meat.

Michael, you fucking watch
that Webley don't jump. You know that?

When you pull that fucking trigger,

and the body of the man you shot
wraps itself around your ankles,

-they pile up.
-(MICHAEL BREATHING HEAVILY)

It gets to the point
where you can't walk in a room

without bringing
a load of them with you.

POLLY: What's going on?

What's going on?

Polly, we're just
educating the boss here

one our side of the business.

Michael, get in the house.

I'm not a fucking kid any more.

(GUNSHOTS)

(GUNSHOTS)

You've come to tell me it's cancel led.

No, why would it be?

I read the papers.

-This is business.
-It won't work.

I told your brother,
this whole fucking plan won't work.

If Tommy wants to keep this secret...
Tell him.

There was a woman in a fur coat
walking through here in broad daylight

like the Queen of fucking Sheba
asking about armoured cars.

During a period of grieving,
some things were allowed to slip.

We know the woman.
We're dealing with it.

Now, take a look at this list.

These are all the men
who work the night shift

who are members
of the South Birmingham Communist Party.

You've got six weeks. Sack them all.

Are you fucking mad?

He is.

Yeah.

Every factory in the city
will come out on strike.

So? You find reasons.

You set them up.

You sack them.

Look at the list again.

Are there any communists on your shift
who aren't on the list?

No.

Please don't fucking lie to us.

-Who's missing?
-I don't know.

Emmanuel Hunter.

Hmm?

Convener, deputy treasurer,
Sparkhill Communist Party.

Lathe operator to you.

I didn't know he was a communist.

We left that name
off the list on purpose.

See if you could be trusted.

You can't be trusted.

Look, I'm just a working man.

JOHN: We're gonna be watching you.

-Watching your fucking house.
-I've got kids.

Ethan and John.

Just get them sacked

as they appear on the list, two a week.

The last one before
the clocks go forward.

Is that a yes or a no?

-Yes.
-Thank you.

-(METAL CLANKING)
-(MEN SHOUTING INDISTINCTLY)

Good.

Good.

-Do you think he'll return?
-Tommy?

He'll always come back.

You speak differently when you talk...

I prefer to talk about other things.

Let me see.

What books do you like?

Riding, flower arranging, embroidery?

You'd be surprised of the things I know.

You'd also be surprised
of the things I don't know.

What could you possibly not know?

I wasn't educated.

-At all.
-What is there to learn, after all?

Goodness.

I'm sorry. You must need a rest.

Do you tell your friends
you're painting a gangster?

Is that the fun in all of this?

In truth, I don't have any friends.

I knew everyone through my wife.

When she died...

Well...

Look, Polly,

my motivation for doing this is twofold.

Firstly, you have a face
full of contradictions,

and it's a challenge
to capture them in one expression.

-(SCOFFS)
-That's the sales pitch.

The second motivation is that
I am planning to seduce you eventually

and, please God, sleep with you.

How would that please God?

Please me.

And stop.

And he didn't say what he wants.

When he was drunk, he said absolution.

Other than that, nothing.

Thank you for your time, Madame Boswell.

I heard someone shot your wife.

If you're looking for soldiers,
our men are all up at Apple by.

I have no need for soldiers.

It's not why I came here.

What do you think?

You're selling?

Giving.

-Why?
-Would you take it?

I'd take it.

Would you wear it?

-Why would I not?
-That's my question.

My wife was wearing it
the night she was shot,

and I lie awake at night
at 4:00 in the fucking morning,

and I blame myself for her death.

I pushed some people too far.

You want me to tell you
this jewel is cursed,

and then her death won't be
all your fault.

If I believed in the priests,

I would confess and ask for forgiveness,

but all I have is you, Madame Boswell.

I have a son.

I have a business.

I need to get some sleep.

It is cursed.

I feel its curse
burning through my heart.

Bless you, Tommy Shelby.

You'll have good fortune from now on.

-The business is done?
-It's done.

You're not going to give me
one fucking clue what that was about?

All religion is a foolish answer
to a foolish question.

What does that mean?

Go and get Charlie from the camp.

He'll have learned enough
bad habits by now.

You can drop us to the train station.

And Johnny boy, if I were you,

I'd come back here tonight later on.

It's gonna be
one hell of a big fucking party.

MAN: The day and date on your ticket.

If you can't read, find someone who can.

Tickets for sailings other than today's
will be destroyed.

He has people all over the docks.

If it's going to happen,
it will happen now.

We'll be all right.

Why don't these Irish
fill in their papers in advance?

Think about Mott Street, the café,
the smell of the coffee.

(SPEAKING ITALIAN)

Police! Help! Police!

Officer, there are some men,
they mean us harm.

We are in danger here.
Can you escort us to the dock?

Please.

Come with me.

Excuse me, brother. You got a light?

Thank you, Officer.

-That'll be all.
-John Shelby.

Is that the lad I used to teach?
John Shelby, I smacked your arse.

Let him go.

-Please. Please, let her go.
-Arthur?

How many times I looked the other way
because of your sweet smile.

I said, let him go. He's coming with us.

Not until I know my wife is safe.

She's safe. We're not going to harm her.

Let's just get a move on.

Look, we're disobeying Tommy's orders
just by talking to you.

Don't push it, please.

-Come with us. Let him go.
-AUDREY: Let him go, too.

Say it's done.

Say he's in the harbour.
He can do you no harm from New York.

I can't do that, Mrs Changretta.
I can't do that. Sorry.

OK, OK. Audrey, listen.

-No!
-Listen to me!

Go to the café in Mott Street.
Bonito will take care of you.

Let him go, too. He's an old man.

I gave you sweets and cakes.

Mrs Changretta, there are rules.

Your husband knows the rules.

-Come on, old man.
-AUDREY: No.

Sorry.

We're disobeying orders here.

Let him fucking go!

You have 10 seconds,
or Tommy's orders stand.

They stand. One!

-Two!
-Please!

Three.

-I love you forever.
-Four.

(SOBBING)

-No, no, no!
-America. A new life.

No, no, no! (WAILING)

A new love.

(CONTINUES WAILING)

(PRAYING IN ITALIAN)

Do you know what time it is, old man?

I'll tell you.

(CONTINUES PRAYING)

It's after seven in the evening,

and I'm going to keep you alive
until it gets light.

I'll not deliver the final cut

until we can both hear
the blackbirds singing outside.

It's a beautiful sound,

which my wife will never hear again.

Now, I'm gonna have to choose carefully

which part of you I cut away first.

Open your eyes.

Open your eyes,
or I will cut away your fucking eyelids!

Now look at me.

Look at me.

This is the end.

This is the end.

It was your tongue that gave the order.

I'll take your tongue first.

Then I'll take your ears.

Then I'll take your fingers.

Then your fucking toes.

See, I take your balls first,
you drain too fast like you fuckers do.

No, I think tongue first. Tongue first.

(MUFFLED GROANING)

Tongue first.

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

If I take your tongue,
you won't be able to explain,

and I want you to explain.
I want you to fucking explain.

(TOMMY BREATHING HEAVILY)

(CONTINUES PRAYING)

Come on, Tommy.

I forget who I am.

I forget who I am.

I'm a Blinder.
I'll take your fucking eyes first!

(GUNSHOT)

I heard the blackbird sing.

And we let his wife
board the immigrant ship to New York.

We didn't kill Mrs Changretta.

And tonight...

We're not those kind of men.

(SIGHS)

You get rid of the body, John.

Get rid of those for good.

All gone.

(EXCLAIMS)

Oh!

(SIGHS)

Did you do what was on your list, Ada?

You and your fucking lists.

Did you?

I spoke to an old friend of Freddie's.

He's a Communist Party candidate
for Basall Heath.

I asked him about the Birmingham branch
of the National Vigilance Committee.

He said he'd heard the Soviet Embassy
was getting information from the inside.

And? Has he got a name?

Yes.

But just promise me
no one will get killed.

Ada, it'll be me or John or Arthur
who gets killed

if you don't give me the fucking name.

There's someone ahead of us,
and I need to know why.

James Monkland.

He's a Lloyds underwriter.
He's got an office on Curzon Street.

Tommy, for fuck's sake,
who is it that's ahead of you?

I knew I could count on you, Ada.

No, you can't,
and I just asked you a fucking question.

And I notice
you started wearing lipstick again.

(SCOFFS)

So what?

I got bored.

You can change what you do,
but you can't change what you want.

And what is it that I want?

There's gonna be a vacancy coming up
at Shelby Company Limited.

Boston office.

Boston, America?

Lipstick. Clothes from Paris.

No revolvers. All legal.

Just turn a few heads.
Do the transit deals.

James Monkland, right?

Good night, Ada.

-James Monkland?
-Yours, sir.

Who the hell are you?

What do you want with me?

You've been passing information
about a robbery

at the Lanchester factory in Sparkbrook.

Are you Tommy Shelby?

I need to know the name of the person
in the organisation

that was giving you information.

What organisation?

The Economic League,
the Vigilance Committee,

the Odd Fellows, Section D.

They have many fucking names.

Shit, shit, shit.

Give me the name of the informant.

Mr Shelby,

they are very, very dangerous people.

Oh. Hmm.

Well, fortunately, so are we.

You have to choose
who you're more afraid of.

The Peaky Blinders at exactly 11 :43,

or Section D at some point
in the future.

If you make the wrong choice,
you won't see 11 :44.

LINDA: Do they always have to do
the stock taking at night, Arthur?

ARTHUR: Only 'cause, you know,
it slows down production.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Night work will have to end.

It will. It will.

You'll have things to do at night.

Yeah.

I know.

We've spoken about it.

I was gonna wait until you had
a strong cup of tea in your hand.

-Come on, then.
-But I'm gonna have a baby, Arthur.

Pregnant?

Yeah.

You said you spent the night
taking stock. Well, so did I.

This working at night will have to stop.

-You'll have a baby.
-Yes.

(CHUCKLES)

-Oh, it's great news.
-(CHUCKLES)

(EXHALES)

Right, then.

(CHUCKLES)

Let's have a cup of tea. One moment.

(LAUGHS)

Come on. Let's have that tea.

Arthur, for fuck's sake, what is it?

No. We wait for Tommy.

I've got a stolen statue back there

with its dick hanging out
waiting to be melted down.

Tell us. Tell Tommy later.

Yeah, look, he's not here.
He's not here. I'm going.

-Hold your horses.
-There he is.

-Bye, Curly.
-There he is.

All right, what is it?

Arthur's fucking giving us
all this shit.

Come on. Come on.

Right.

Arthur, you got wire
on the fucking cork. Give it here.

Bastard. Right. Gentlemen!

Linda is up the swanny.
I'm gonna be a fucking dad.

-Fuck off. (CHUCKLES)
-(ALL LAUGHING)

Yes, Curly. Yeah.

Arthur, I knew you had it in you.

I knew he had it in him.

September she reckons.

Her tits feel different already.

Yeah, that's not the only thing
that's gonna be different, brother.

You're fucked now, man.

Fucked. Absolutely fucked.

Oh, nothing's gonna change, John.

Goodbye, Arthur.

-I have a meeting I have to go to.
-Yeah.

Yeah, of course you do.

Yeah, you...

You go to, mate.

Congratulations.

-I'm gonna be a dad.
-Proud of you.

(DOOR OPENS)

Your Highness, Mr Thomas Shelby.

Welcome, Mr Shelby.

I believe you've met everyone
apart from my wife,

Grand Duchess Izabella Petrovna.

Please, take a seat.

Before we begin, Mr Shelby,

we must offer you our sincere
condolences on your recent loss,

which some of us witnessed.

(TOMMY SNIFFS)

-Did you drive, Mr Shelby?
-Yes.

-They say you're an expert on cars.
-Yes, I am.

I am curious.
What was your father's profession?

Well, he told fortunes,
and he stole horses.

Often, he would tell a man
that his horse would be stolen,

and they would marvel at his powers
when it was.

Before we eat, should we say grace?

For what we are about to receive,
may the Lord make us truly thankful.

-Amen.
-I'm not here to eat.

I'm here to do business.

What I have to say can be said
before the main course.

Then I will leave you all
to your evening.

Grand Duchess, I must apologise
for the bad manners of my compatriot.

This is a report on the mission's
progress so far. (CLEARS THROAT)

I've made only one copy for security.

Who should I give it to?

My husband
is in charge of this operation.

But since there will no doubt
be vodka later,

perhaps you should give it to me
for safe-keeping.

Speak, Mr Shelby, while we eat.

Five factory foremen on our payroll
have begun a campaign of victimisation

against communist workers
in five factories across Birmingham.

Anger amongst the workers will grow,
but we will control it.

On the night of June 21 st,

a general strike will be called
across the city.

Protests will develop into riots,

and all police that are not
already under our control will be busy.

The city will be paralysed.

So how will you move the train?

We have two locomotive drivers

who've been allocated to drive
the midnight goods train to London.

The armoured vehicles will be waiting
on flatbeds.

-And ammunition?
-The ammunition...

I have to say
that this soup is exceptional.

Absolutely delicious.

Ammunition, incendiaries will already
have been packed up and crated

for transport to Istanbul.

-And how long to London?
-The train won't reach London.

All the goods will be unloaded
at a coal yard at St Albans

and put onto Shelby Company trucks.

From there, they will go directly
to the Poplar Docks.

You Highness, if you're having
difficulty understanding his accent,

then I can go through the plan with you
at a later date.

If there is no ship waiting for my men,

all goods will be dumped into the sea
before first light.

What happens when they discover
the armoured cars are missing?

During the rioting, the
Lanchester factory will be firebombed.

A scrap metal dealer of my acquaintance
will declare

that all the armoured vehicles
are in the wreckage

and should be written off as salvage.

No one will know
that they are in your possession.

We formulated this plan
when we met at Birmingham.

I'm certain that
nothing has been overlooked.

This is the amount of extra expense
I believe I will incur

for trucks and fuels.

I trust you will respond in kind.

But of course, Mr Shelby.

Before I go,

I would like it known
that I'm unable to swallow food

in the same room as this priest.

Enjoy your evening.

Tatiana, see Mr Shelby to his car.

Yes.

(SPEAKING RUSSIAN)

Walk with me.

The priest is passing information
about the robbery

to a Lloyds underwriter called Monkland.

He, in turn, is passing information
to the Soviet Embassy.

You want him dead?
I'll kill him, no charge.

Why would the priest
pass information to our enemies?

I'm being paid to act and to observe,
like a soldier.

The complexities are your business.

Go and speak to Izabella.
I trust her to decide.

You were able to contain your business
dealings even after what happened.

Perhaps you didn't love her.

She's here by my side,

and she says,
"Don't trust these people."

Now give me permission
to kill the priest.

(THEME SONG PLAYING)

http://hiqve.com/