All language subtitles for Spanish.Affair.2014.1080p.BluRay.x264.@SpMv

SPANISH AFFAIR

You want anything?

I need a kalimotxo
to put up with this.

You're not in Euskadi, Amaia.

You don't say! Really?

I was so sure we were in Hernani.

Come on, let's try
to have some fun.

You could've taken me to Donosti,

with a stripper and
a dick on my head.

"Have some fun", the way I
love Andalusians and hair gel.

That was the joke
about the hen party.

What do we call this now?

It isn't a hen party any more.

So, what is it?

You should know, you dragged me
here and dressed me like a halfwit.

Why let Antxon ruin the trip too?

You want kalimotxo or not?

I can't take this rebujete.

Well, you've had six or seven.

Are you keeping score?

What a wonder and what a delight.

Hurrah for fino, manzanilla
and beautiful girls.

They must have left
Heaven's gates open,

- because I see...
- Some angels?

I hope one is a guardian angel

because I would really
love to slap you hard...

What?

You can't treat everyone
like that because of Antxon.

We said we wouldn't talk about him.

What fantastic women, Joaquin.

Those three, Currito? Forget it.

Why? Boyfriends? Even better.

- Worse!
- Worse? Dykes?

- Worse!
- Worse?

They must be Basque.

One moment, please.

Can we have some silence?
Sit down, please.

I'm being asked to tell
some jokes, as only I can

and all I want is to put a smile
on the faces of these women.

You're the prettiest in
Andalusia. Olé, olé and olé!

Here's the first one.

These two Basques meet and
one says: "Hey, Patxi,

I hear your daughter's
in bed with gonorrhoea."

The other says: "I don't care!
As long as he's Basque..."

No, don't clap, you'll
break my rhythm.

I shouldn't say it, but I'm
really nailing the Basque accent.

Another one. These two from
Bilbao meet, and one says:

"Kepa, I hear you won 100
million on the lottery."

The other says: "Just what I bet".

Very funny jokes. Really shit hot.

You're such a wit.
You have such flair here.

But I think that, to
give us a real laugh,

you should go fuck yourself.

Have some respect, eh?

You may be from the
Basque Provinces...

Yeah, from the fucking
Gonorrhoea family!

The Basque Provinces!
The ignorance of these people.

Bunch of layabouts!

You only get up from the
siesta to go partying.

What?

Why don't you go home
and lift some stones

or whatever you
Basques do to relax?

- You seem...
- What?

a bit tense. The fun's over.

Don't touch me, dago,
I'll report you!

Gora Euskadi, fuck you all!
Don't touch me!

You're going out on the
street and get an earful!

Wait a minute...

- My friends are there!
- I don't care.

No! Don't...! No! Hey!

- Let go of me!
- You've got no business here.

Take it easy, eh?

Go on, get out!
And don't come back!

Don't worry, I'll never
be back in Seville.

- Are you looking at my ass?
- Why would I look at your ass?

You were looking at it.

You should be so lucky
that I'd like you.

You'll like me if I say so!

Come on.

Hey, Rafa, where were you?

I knew you were with
the Basque girl,

or I'd have thought you'd
hit on someone else.

- Did you screw her?
- No, no, but it doesn't count.

We just slept.

Why doesn't it count?

Sleeping with a Basque is like screwing
a girl from Málaga three times.

I'll make supper for
you another day, OK?

- You brought her home?
- Yes.

Are you crazy? Why did you do that?

She could be an ETA terrorist!

An ETA terrorist? Are you nuts?

Wasn't she wearing flounces?

How else would she come here?

With a balaclava and a Basque flag?

I'll tell you something.

I bet she's looking for a
"show house" in Seville.

- Don't you mean a "safe house"?
- Not with her in it!

Don't give her any bottles.

That lot make Molotov
cocktails in a nanosecond.

You're out of your mind.

Shit, you left the door open.

I don't want her to
remember my face.

I closed it.

You bastard! I believed you!

"The Dude"...

I knew it was impossible
to make out with a Basque.

She was here a minute ago.

For fuck's sake, Rafa!
For fuck's sake!

Careful, there might
be a bomb in there.

Are you sure this
is a woman's purse?

There's no lipstick or
mascara or anything.

Basque women don't wear make-up.

Joaquin, you saw her, she
could be Miss Euskadi.

Miss Euskadi? They don't have that.

Go on, tell him. Listen
to this, Currito.

I want to give it back.

To the police?

No, to her.

Didn't you say that she's
back in her village now?

Yes, well, there.

Are you crazy? You've
never left Andalusia.

Shit, I've... I've fallen in love.

How could you fall in
love with a Basque?

You've never been in love!

What do you two know?
All I know is that

there's unfinished
business between us.

You're unfinished business.

Take that thing and
erase our details.

I bet she put us in there.

You have to check the numbers on
the mobile before you head off.

No, don't call, the
battery's almost dead.

"Aita, Aita". "Aita" is something.

Pedrito, "aita" is something
in their language, right?

"Aita" is "Father".
Like in "father and mother".

Pedro...

I'm waiting to see if she calls.
The battery's low.

Shut up, it's ringing.

It's dead.

You three are a great
help. Thanks a lot.

Don't take your car.

I did my military service in Irún and
mine was scratched 4 or 5 times.

The Basques love that.
It's a custom.

I think it's a lot
quieter up there now.

Another one who believes
in that trick treaty.

The Basques can't stand
the sight of Andalusians.

They're taught that in
baby Basque school.

That and making Molotov cocktails.

Take two days, Rafa,
and you'll forget her.

That's right.

That's just what I need: two days.

It'll take me two days
to bring her to Seville.

Plus, it isn't her
fault she's Basque.

You're letting him go?
Grab him, you're strong.

I've known him since he was a kid.

He's incapable of going
to the Basque Provinces.

"BASQUE WITHOUT FEAR"

The Basques can't stand
the sight of Andalusians.

Not even the sight of us!

WELCOME TO THE BASQUE COUNTRY

JOAQUIN MOBILE NUMBER

THURSDAY 6 JUNE REAL
BETIS FOOTBALL CLUB

Where are you from?

Who, me? Where do you...

I'm Basque, from here.

Not from here specifically,
but I'm Basque.

Aupa. Agur.

Yeah.

What are you? Andalusian?

Hey, watch it, I didn't insult you.

Calm down, I'm from Cáceres.

Are you from Córdoba?

How could I possibly
be from Córdoba?

I'm Basque. But if I was Andalusian,
I'd be Sevillian, not Cordoban.

I'm Sevillian, from Santa Cruz.

I was at the Expo with my husband.

- Wasn't the Polish pavilion lovely?
- Yes, it was.

I was dying to meet someone
here who wasn't from Argoitia.

Come to the house one day
and I'll make "migas".

Mine are delicious.

I've got a question.

Where is this street? "Gasteiz".

You have to get out in two stops.

Have you come here for this girl?

No, I'm just visiting
for a few days.

Right. So, you're in love.

Head over heels.

Too bad, we've arrived just
when we're getting acquainted.

Will you come to my house tomorrow?

Look, that's it.

The truth is, I'm only
here for a few days.

That's what I said too.

I'll be waiting for you
with the "migas". Goodbye.

Goodbye, love.

Agur, blondie.

LEAVE THE BASQUE COUNTRY IN PEACE

Amaia?

Yes, come in, I'm in the kitchen.

Amaia?

Amaia, what are you doing?

It's me.

You must be... Don't say anything.

Look, I know it's kind of crazy,
but one of us had to do it, right?

What happened to your hair?

Never mind. You weren't
expecting this, were you?

Or maybe you were.
Maybe you did expect it

because ours wasn't a
one-night stand that...

Well, not you, you're
Basque, but me?

It wasn't "Wham, bam,
thank you, ma'am".

I mean, take that as a
manner of speaking.

When I said not to interrupt me it
was so I could gather momentum,

but you can do it now, if you want.

Hang on, you are...?

Sorry, I don't remember your name.

What do... What a joker.

You Basques might be great at some
things, but you can't tell jokes.

"You are...?", she says.

I know you're the Sevillian.

I really don't like this tough
nut role you're playing.

Well, "I don't like"...

It's turning me on, a lot.

It's turning both of us on.

Speak for yourself.

Let's be serious.
I've come to get you.

What for?

"What for?"

You don't have to stay
in the Basque Provinces.

- I can take you away.
- "The Basque Provinces"?

To Seville, the two
of us, together.

And you can wear your hair
like a normal person there.

Excuse me?

You want me to call the Ertzaintza?

I thought we'd be on
our own for a while,

but call your friend if you want.

That's it, the joke's over.

I've got no time for this. Get out.

- Amaia, how can I go now?
- What do you want?

Apart from... there's
something else.

You look very odd.

Have you been picking grapes?

Have you seen yourself?

That's enough. Don't keep on.

Look, I understand
you, I really do,

after your bad experience with Antxon,
but not all men are the same.

What? Have you been
looking at my phone?

Me?

Yes... Well, a bit,

just a quick "look-see".

I'll "look-see" you with my fist!

Amaia, that Antxon
was something else.

The debt he left you in over the wedding.

He's got no shame and no manners.

That's enough, get out!

Hey, I'll start thinking
you don't want me, baby.

Baby? I'm not your fucking baby!

Give me a few days.

I know you're confused,
you fell in love so quickly,

but, shit, give me a weekend and
you'll never want me to leave you.

No, no, no! Oh, sweet virgin!

Fucking hell!

What are you doing?

Call the fire brigade.

Right, erentxu,
erentxu, me too, eh?

Gora, and independence!

Why are you running off?
I'm one of yours.

I was going to burn
some Spanish ATMs.

Halt!

Don't move!

It wasn't me.

So, stirring things up for
the demonstration tomorrow?

I didn't even know there
was one tomorrow.

Just when it's quiet here, we get
the Andalusian kale borroka.

Did you call that
number I gave you?

She says she doesn't know you.

She really is acting tough.

That's typical of Basque girls.

That, and looking like they cut
their fringe with an axe, right?

Are you new, or what?

And don't give us any trouble.

I'm Sevillian, don't
you understand?

I don't belong to
that "galleyborroca".

Aupa!

It didn't work.

The Seville thing, I mean.

Despite the camouflage
and the accent.

I'll have to practise more, they
didn't believe it for a minute.

But... look... are you serious?

Yes, yes. I don't know. About what?

Did you burn a container?

Fucking right!

And a big one!

I say that in street fighting
you have to take another step.

Sure!

Who are you?

Me?

Iñaki.

"Machine gun" Iñaki.

"Machine gun"?

- I don't know the name.
- Neither do I.

Are you in a terrorist cell or...?

Well, I could be.
I mean, yes, I am.

Which one?

G cell.

- "Guipúzcoa"!
- Right.

Maybe you don't know
my name because

the leaders always had me silenced.

But they're not going
to shut me up now.

Hey, we spoke to the girl again.

I knew if you insisted
a bit she'd give way.

What did she say?

She wants nothing to do with you.

Look at it.

It's new.

But it's made to measure.

Half, 1,000 euros.

What do I do with it?

500.

Shit, at least the material.

There are bits you can use for some
other idiot who wants to get married.

- 200...
- Amaia!

I'm very sorry, really,
and I understand you...

What do you understand?

You know what people are like.

They say Antxon left
you with debts...

I'm sorry, really.

You were such a nice couple.

Nice couple, my ass!

- Aita?
- Amaia.

You don't know how
happy you made me.

What happened?

I wanted to answer your
call, but it cut out.

When you rang, I was on the boat.

Is something wrong with your phone?

Well, no matter.

Listen, you don't know how happy
I was that you're calling again.

Hang on, hang on. Stop, wait, wait.

Yes, it's best to discuss
these things in person.

What? Are you coming here?

That's why I rang.
I've just come into port.

What?

Amaia! Amaia!

For fuck's sake,
it's cut out again.

- Aupa.
- Aupa.

A fucking long voyage!

I worked the "Sabino" hard, eh?

But she behaved well, very well.

And here? Drizzling?

It's rained all week, yes.

Yes?

So... that's that.

You're the same.

I can't be.

I always remembered your birthday.

But I never called you, you
might have felt uncomfortable.

The first year, dammit,

I had the phone in my hand.

10th of April, 10th of April.

13th of October.

Right, 13th of October,
exactly. Well said.

Well, now that it seems

we're back in touch,
if you like, I'll call you.

October, then, the 13th.

Good, good.

And you never found anything?

No, no... Well, I didn't
finish my degree.

I think there's a mix-up...

I knew it!

I knew you wouldn't call
me for something stupid.

I was thinking about it.
I'm going to be a grandfather...

No, no. Look, wait.
Hang on a minute.

I've waited long enough.

Look, Amaia, for me this is...

You don't know what
it is for a father.

Fucking hell!

I don't think you understand.

There's nothing to understand.

That's how things
are, end of story.

We've had our problems? OK.

But, at times, an
aita has to be there

and pay for his daughter's wedding.
What's there to understand?

You don't have to pay for anything.

Fr. Inaxio has to marry you.
He baptised you.

And he says a nice mass.

Look, you've just arrived,

you can't go interfering
with the wedding...

It's all organised, and I don't
know if you should come.

OK, all right, all right.

- What?
- No, nothing.

- What?
- No, it's fine. Nothing.

No. What's nothing?

Your ama is coming, right?

I understand, well done.

I don't want to cause trouble.

It'll be a mess.

Tell her and that Sevillian
she's with that it's on me.

I don't care if I go
or not. When is it?

On Saturday.

If I can be with you
till Friday, I'm happy.

What do you mean?

I want to meet him.
That's why you rang me.

- What's his name?
- Who? Antxon?

No, wait a minute.

You can't turn up now,
wanting to give your opinion.

Why can't I?

Don't make the same mistake I made.

Tell him to come for
dinner tonight.

You, him, the three of us.

I don't know. I'll see
if I can convince him.

You tell him...

- Yes.
- Good.

Shit, Rafa, you really scared me!

Why were you scared?

When they rang, I thought
something had happened to you.

But you told them
you didn't know me.

What did you want me to say?

I was in shock. But I spent all night
wondering how to get you out.

Yesterday, you didn't even know me.

All right, yesterday
I wasn't very polite.

But put yourself in my place.

You threw me out of your house!

Look, if we start exaggerating
we won't get anywhere.

Come and meet my father.

Your father?

Something's going on here.

- You called him, didn't you?
- Certainly not.

Well, yes, but I didn't mean to.

Can you lose your accent?

Were you dropped on
your head as a child?

What's going on?

I don't want my father to
know I've been jilted.

I think that's all very well
but I'm going to Seville.

Oh, that's very nice.

Yesterday, all "lovey-dovey"...

Typical of Andalusians.
All talk and then...

- What do I get out of this?
- Three days with me.

He's leaving on Saturday. Weren't
two days more than enough?

We'll have to prepare
this really well.

Like, how did we meet?

Let's say the typical thing.

We got off at a disco.

That might be typical in Ibiza.
We're in Euskadi.

Well, at a pelota game
or in a farmhouse.

No, I mean couples here don't
usually get off on the first day.

We did on the first night, my love!

Stop saying "my love"!

I can't help it.

Say "shit" every time you
want to say "my love".

If my father hears
you say "my love"...

How did we meet, shit?

Some friends introduced us.

That's really dull.
It's got no kick.

He won't believe it.

OK, we were introduced
and we got off.

No, we were introduced
and dated for three weeks.

Three weeks before you got off?

That Antxon was a champ.

Three weeks until he
asked for my number.

Let's see...

That might do for playing
pelota but not for the street.

These clothes are fine.

They're fine for picking olives

but I don't go out at
night in a track suit.

And get rid of that necklace.

No! This is the Virgin
of the Macarena.

It's the greatest.

No, the greatest is the
punch from my father

if he finds out you're Andalusian.

You're getting a bit pushy.

Your phone.

We don't want a friend calling
you from the Giralda.

You take away my roots, and
leave me incommunicado as well.

Typical of Basque radicals.

And a change of hairstyle.

You're right there, you look
like a donkey chewed your hair.

I mean your hair gel.

No way. My hair gel?

No, you can play around
with my religion

but you're not
touching my hair gel!

Stop moving!

Look, and a piercing here.

No, let's see... I'll put it here.

Will he be much longer?

He's punctual. I don't know
what's happened today.

I'll take the chance
to say something.

I'm very happy you're
finally getting on well.

Why "finally"?

A month ago someone told me
you weren't getting on well.

That was all I heard because
I didn't want to know.

People can say what they want.

You'll see everything's
fine with Antxon.

Aupa.

Hello, Koldo.

How are you? Aupa!

Aupa!

Maybe this was a bad time for you.

No, no, I've just been
playing pelota, shit.

You play pelota?

He spends all Sunday on the court.

But if there's a demo,
it's half demo, half court.

I combine sport and independence.

What'll you have?

A... pote.

Jose Mari, give him a txikito.

He reminds me a lot of
that kid you dated,

the one from the south.

- From the south?
- Yes, from Vitoria.

But he did have his
eight Basque surnames.

- As it should be.
- Eight at the least.

My grandfather had sixteen.

- Yes, Antxon has a lot.
- And very long, with lots of "k"s.

What are they?

What does it matter?

It's just in case I
might know any of them.

Well... Gabilondo, Urdangarin,
Zubizarreta, Arguiñano...

Four.

And on my ama's side,

- Igartiburu, Erentxun...
- Six.

Have you forgotten the others?

No, when I remember
my ancestors I...

Uncle Zubi, remember? What a man.

- I get emotional. Otegi...
- Jesus!

and Clemente.

Clemente isn't Basque.

Who says so?

He's more Basque than the txapela.

He's not Basque!

He's not?

The family will be so
upset when they hear.

But your grandchild will have
eight! So, shall we eat?

All right.

But as he's a Clemente,
he might order paella.

Eh? Come on!

Where the fuck did you
get the Clemente?

I don't know, but it's a
miracle I didn't cry.

And stop all the hugging.

Why did you do it?
You're not in Seville.

Do I look "uppersally"?

Abertzale.

I do, right?

Stay focused. Come on.

- Gabon.
- Hello.

Tonight we have beans, mixed salad,

peppers stuffed with
txangurro, cod croquettes,

scrambled egg with mushrooms,
squid in its own ink,

nape of hake and T-bone steak.

I'll have squid.

You don't choose.
That's the set meal.

Here, you eat what there is.

No, squid is just what
Antxon likes most.

He's mad about squid,
aren't you, Antxon?

And all the rest too.
I hope it's enough.

What'll you have to drink?
Wine, cider...?

- Wine.
- Both.

And cider too. Both.

OK.

He forgot to tell us
what the wines are.

Amaia, can you get
the list, please?

When he brings the
beans I'll tell him...

Get the menu, love, please.

Do you think I'm fucking stupid?

What?

I knew when I shook your hand.

Look me in the eye,
I'm talking to you!

Bread...?

You don't fool me! You've
never played pelota!

With those hands? Come off it!

The league finished
a few months ago.

Look, this is what a 2,000 lb. tuna
does to you on the Ivory Coast,

when it gets the nylon line
round your neck and...

Nearly a ton weight,
pulling for twenty minutes,

and it couldn't beat me.

You see what I'm getting at?

I think it's a bit of a metaphor
between the tuna and me.

I don't know how the
hell you tricked Amaia,

but if you lie to me,

I'll pull you in, tenderise
you with my fists,

and make a sailor's
knot out of you.

And those aren't "mattyphors"
or any of that shit.

All right? And now, let's eat.

- How are things?
- Fine.

Great, here with your aita.

Osendo, no bad scene of any kind.

Beans.

Have you got Marqués
de Zigoitia? Crianza?

- I have.
- Well, bring a bottle or two.

- Two?
- Two.

- What's he doing?
- I'll serve. Hold up your plate.

How can three of us
eat with just that?

No, it's so it doesn't get cold.

A little bit of this isn't
enough to get started!

Is he nervous or what?

No, why would he be nervous?

Well, why did he hug me
as soon as he saw me?

Maybe he is a bit nervous.

You both seem odd to me.
And I know you well.

You haven't seen me in six years.
You don't know me, and him less.

I have to say I don't
like him very much.

I'm the one getting married.

We'll see.

I'll drive, it seems I'm
the one who drank least.

Are you all right?

Yes, I was looking to see if there
were any interesting mushrooms.

But they're all button
mushrooms and "boletua".

Koldo, eskerrik asko for dinner.
I'll see you tomorrow.

What do you mean?
We'll drive you home.

No, he'd rather walk, because in
general he likes walking a lot.

Yes, and to let the
meal settle a bit.

Even more? You settled
it all on that bush.

All right, where do you live?

Between the outskirts
and the centre,

in the middle.

You start, and we'll tell you.

Yes, you start and...

Come on, get in.

When I was your age
I knew where I lived.

Well? How are we doing?

Great, Koldo. It's been
a fantastic night.

No, I mean the direction.

- Right.
- Right.

Antxon, do you know
where you live yet?

How could I not know, Koldo?

There! It's there.

Are you sure?

I'm sure, Koldo. I'm sure.

Eskerrik asko, Koldo.
"Osendo", "perfectoak". Agur.

It's certainly far out.

I've always liked living
in the mountains.

Eskerrik asko. Agur.

- I'll wait here for you.
- Yes.

Act like we're saying goodbye.

What...?

That'll do.

I was about to pull back
in front of your father.

You're...

Come on!

Coming.

What are you going
to do? I have to go.

You go on, I'll sort something out.

What's he doing?

Nothing. Shall we go?

Isn't he going inside?

I don't know, he's there, cool,
walking around. Let's go.

Wait, wait.

Antxon, what's wrong?

Have you lost your keys?

No, no. You can go on, don't worry.

- Yes, let's go.
- No, wait...

I didn't see you go in,
that's why I said...

- I've lost the keys.
- See? What did I say?

This morning I was...
chopping tree trunks.

I was busy swinging the axe,
and agur to the keys.

- It's always the same.
- You lost them.

Hey, you left that open.
You're in luck.

Yes, I'll close it later.

Eskerrik asko, agur, gabon...

I'm abertzale.

No, no.

I mean, to get in.

I'll lift you up and... In you go.

No, no. How can you lift him up...?

Why not? That's how
it's always done.

You can't lift him
up to the window.

For Christ's sake! Antxon, come on.

- But...
- It's dead easy.

Koldo, you're cold...
and you've just eaten.

Come on, Antxon.

Put your foot here
when I say three, eh?

Do it carefully, you
look a bit light-headed.

Come on!

Bat, bi...

eta hiru. Aupa!

Eskerrik asko, Koldo.

You see? That's it, let's go.

Come on, love.

Who's there?

No, no, don't shout, please.

It's me. Long live Spain
and the Constitution.

Did you hear that?

What? No, I didn't.

It was a tree. Let's go.

You're the Andalusian guy.

Yes! I'm Antxon, I mean,
Rafa, but Antxon.

You really scared me, love.

Why didn't you say you
were coming to eat?

I've got no garlic for the "migas".

Don't even mention food,
I'm going to explode.

Sweet Jesus!

You have to help me...

I'm Mercedes, but I prefer Merche.

No, I'll call you Arantxa.

If it has to be a name
from here, I prefer Anne.

- Antxon!
- All right, "Anne".

Play along with me, OK?

From now on, you're my mother.

- Whatever happens, my mother.
- Don't worry.

I was at a theatre workshop,
I must be very chameleonic.

Antxon, everything OK?

Yes, yes, I'm coming.

I hope you aren't
annoyed about Arantxa,

but I think my hairstyle
is more like an Anne.

Aupa.

What's up?

Nothing. Everything OK?

Yes, great, the two of us
are here, a happy family.

I was dying for him to come
home, right, Antxonito?

Koldo, this is Anne, my ama.

Right, Anne. Suits me, doesn't it?

Anne... Igartiburu?

Hell, there's a coincidence!

Yes, like the girl on TV.

Mother and son all our lives
and we never realised!

Won't you come in?

- Well...
- We love each other.

It's OK, ama, they're leaving.

That doesn't matter.

It's polite to invite people.
That's what you do.

Despite these little disagreements,
he's a wonderful son.

We'll have time later to meet up.

- Tomorrow.
- Tomorrow?

What do you mean?

Tomorrow we could go fishing
for bonito and cook it at night.

- Yes.
- I'm arrantzale.

And I'm Anne. A pleasure.

We'll leave you now.
It's very late.

Come on.

Bai. Agur.

Aita, please.

See you tomorrow, my dears.

Tomorrow, my ass. I'm out of here.

Tomorrow we're going fishing.

What are you talking about?

Did you see that Koldo?
He's a brute.

I thought he was very nice.

I'm going to Seville.

You're not going back
without that girl.

I should never have come.
It was a mistake.

That happened to me with
my Antonio, God rest him.

I came to Euskadi for him

and look at me now. I don't
want to go back to Cáceres.

I'm going and I'm not coming back.

I said that too the first night.

What the...?

Isn't this the direct
bus to Bilbao?

Yes...

Fucking...!

What happened?

Please drive on.
That woman's insane.

Kepa, let me in, it's important.

Amaia, what's up?

Nothing, don't worry.

- Come on.
- I'm not going anywhere.

I've brought you clothes.

Are you going to kidnap me?

Look, I said "kidnap"
as a manner of speech.

It's nothing political.
I know you can be...

Wasn't this the
direct bus to Bilbao?

He's leaving tomorrow.
Just another day, please.

I don't know if I
can take any more.

Antxon!

Not Antxon again!

Yes, or we'll get in a mess.

Weren't you with my father?

Yes, but...

I think he suspects something.

He says it doesn't seem you've
been together three years.

- He did?
- Yes, he keeps asking me

if you're always like this,
so... unaffectionate.

You don't really seem to be in love.
Have you had a row?

It doesn't matter.
He's leaving tomorrow.

Merche is kind of right.

Now that we're in this,
we should do it well.

But if you want us to
do the typical botch-up

and your father to realise...

Coming!

You won't catch me out.

That holding hands shit and
smooching isn't going to happen.

But someone from Seville
can pretend to be Basque?

You're crazy.

No, don't insist. I said no.

And you, don't go beyond the waist.

Are we talking about the
hard zone or the soft zone?

The waist.

He's coming.

You fucking...

- Well?
- Aupa.

Ready to catch that bonito?

Yes!

Let's go.

Be careful with her,
she's a bit bossy.

Don't worry, it's under control.

Under control?

You might think so, but
you're being a wimp.

No, I'm playing for time.

In two days I'll have her in
Seville, dancing flamenco.

- I mean it.
- Really?

In our day, couples did
things differently.

Now, young people are together one
day, they're arguing the next...

That's not the way.

Don't take it badly, I've
only known you one day but...

What is it?

It's nothing.

Look, when I met him I
thought he was... not bad

but kind of odd.

I think your boy's odd.

That's very nice.

So, you don't like my son?

No, it's not that, Anne.

What about your daughter?

You think I want my son
to marry a taxi driver?

A taxi driver, Koldo!

Some fortune he hunted!

Do I say anything to you about that

or the Romanian trucker
haircut she has?

- No.
- Right.

If we're going to be honest,
we'll say everything.

Fine.

Have you said all this to Antxon?

I don't have to like Amaia,
he's the one marrying her.

And, anyway, look at them.
How could it go badly?

That hand is low.

You said on your waist.

Your little finger
isn't on my waist.

It might be on the very limit but
I'm not touching the soft zone.

Move it up.

We're supposed to
be getting married.

Enjoy it and relax a bit.

I can't enjoy it if
you're touching my ass.

I mean the Titanic moment
we're experiencing here.

Fuck.

And your ass isn't your best bit.

Excuse me?

- I'm going to kiss you.
- What's wrong with my ass?

With my tongue.

Rafa, don't you dare.

Well, you two, enjoying yourselves?

Amaia, go and give Anne a hand.

A hand with what?

Please. Go on.

Well, Antxon?

Have you travelled a lot?

Well...

there was a time I travelled a lot.

Sure.

I've been... in
Guipúzcoa, in Donosti,

Hernani, Rentería...

Oh, Lord!

At your age,

I thought that if I stayed in
Argoitia, I'd lose out on a lot,

but it was the other way round.

What I lost was my wife
and everything I had.

You get what I'm saying?

Aita! Something's
making a lot of noise!

Like when the washing
machine's finishing.

All right.

I bet you a round I'll
catch a 30 lb. bonito.

Bonito, not tuna.

It's a bet.

Good!

Oso ondo, agur.

- Eskerrik asko.
- Aupa!

- Aupa.
- Aupa.

Three wines! Crianza, eh?
The son-in-law's paying.

Shit, look who's here, Ugaitz!

He's the fucking master
I was telling you about.

Aupa.

- It's his gang.
- Yeah.

The drinks are on me,
we're closing up.

There's a demo today.

You didn't say anything.

About the...? Is today Thursday?

Yes.

I don't know where my head is.

And I was even on the
committee organising things.

Yes, you told me.

How about a bit of "Kortatu"?

No, no, some olives would be fine.

Olives, he says! What a joker!

"Machine gun", we...

We did what you asked.

- What did you do?
- You know, going a step farther.

You're sure, aren't you?

Well, a little step. Not...

You'll see.

Tell everyone what you
told us the other day.

Go ahead, "Machine gun

In Euskera, come on!

Yes, bai, I'll happily
say it in Basque.

But I tend to think in Basque
and translate into Spanish,

to talk to the foreigners,
as I call them.

Yes, he's like that.

He's a chancer.

Do like the gang said.

Talk in Euskera.
We haven't heard you yet.

Erretzea debekatuta dago.

Why?

Why what, Koldo, specifically?

Why is smoking forbidden?

It's always been an
obsession of his.

He's against nicotine and Spain.

- What's that got to do with it?
- A lot, Koldo.

A lot.

Who gets the cigarette tax?
The Spanish government.

You might think it's
unimportant but I'm like that.

First, health, then independence.

Independent, yes, but healthy.

Very healthy.

That wine must be fucking great.

Well, are we going?

Yes.

You go on, we have to
pick up "a few things".

HOMAGE TO JOSE ANTONIO ARTEAGAREN

Independence! Fighting
is the only way!

You just have to keep quiet.
Nothing will happen.

Nothing, she says.

I'm the new Andalusian
leader of the kale borroka.

You've got a place
in the front row.

You're the fucking boss! Come on.

He's here!

In the front row, he says.

Is this a demonstration
or a Springsteen concert?

We'll be at the head
of all that rumpus.

Don't worry. Nothing
ever happens here.

Antxon! Antxon!

Antxon! Come on.

Take the loudspeaker,
we want to hear you.

No, really...

I said a couple of borroka things

and felt great, but that's very
uncomfortable for Spain, Koldo,

I hope you didn't mind.

Come on.

Don't let them down.
Let's hear you.

We are better...

than the Spanish.

We are better... than the Spanish.

We are better... than the Spanish.

Why don't you say it in Euskera?

It is a bit odd that you don't.

Say it in Euskera!

So, what do you want?

That I speak in Euskera? OK.

The thing is, who are we
asking for independence?

The Basques?

No. The Spanish.

If we say it in Euskera,
they won't understand.

It's true, they won't understand.
We have to say it in Spanish.

My aunties all agree,
we want amnesty.

Come on, Argoitia, speak
out, don't be shown up!

Gora Euskadi, olé!

Right now, a peaceful
meeting is being held

in his home town,
where some residents

are paying tribute to this
historic nationalist leader

WHY DON'T YOU SHUT UP?

That's it, that's it!

- Come on, Argoitia!
- Fucking hell!

Oé, oé, oé, Euskadi all the way!

Give me the remote.

Oé, oé, oé, Euskadi all the way!

Stop, stop.

Euskadi has a special colour!

Euskadi has a special colour!

Euskadi has a different colour!

Stop, stop.

Waiter!

What the fuck are you doing?

This is fucking great!

Koldo, I'm on fire!

Knock, knock!

Who's there?

Laura!

Laura who?

"Laura Norder", cops at the door!

"Laura Norder", cops at the door!

- Stop, stop.
- I'm flying.

Well, come down.

I'm the boss here.

Take a look at them. Stop now.

Gora Euskadi, gora Euskadi!

Now what, "Machine gun"?
Look at this!

What have you done?

What you told us!

Now what? You tell us, we'll do it.

Hide and wait for
orders from above.

Above, where?

- To independence and beyond!
- Right.

Isn't that from "Toy Story"?

Well? How was the bonito?

- It couldn't be fresher!
- Delicious.

Wonderful.

The bonito was fucking great.

Look, I'm going to say one thing.

When I was young, I was involved
in that independence stuff, too.

But those were different
times, with Franco and all.

But today, getting so involved
with the kale borroka,

I don't know...

Well, I'm not that involved.

It's more like a hobby for me.

Hey, but I'm Basque,
you know? A lot.

A lot!

Do you want some more txacoli?

This wine's fucking great.

What's the grape...?
And the year...?

- What's that?
- What?

I don't hear anything.
Neither do you, right?

- No.
- Be quiet.

It sounds like...

Can it be sevillanas?

A sevillana, he says!

- Sevillanas en Argoitia!
- That's all we needed.

Don't give your father any
more wine. Look at him!

I heard it in here.
I'm serious, really.

Come on, clink.

That's it, drink.
Take yours, Koldo.

Clink!

Christ Almighty! What the fuck...?

Where are you going?

Be quiet! It's coming from there.

Sevillanas in Argoitia.

- It's here...
- Wait, wait.

- I have to tell you something.
- Yes.

- Maybe you don't.
- No.

What the hell's going on?

There's something very
important you have to know.

It's not that important.

I have to tell him.

The other day, ama and the
other came for dinner,

and he left his things.

The Sevillian? Here?

Yes.

I should have guessed.

We didn't know how to tell you.

The fucking son of a bitch!

It's his phone.
There, now you know.

- This is his?
- Yes.

I want to see his fucking face...

To hell with him!

Not only do our taxes
pay for their siestas

but now they come here
and screw our women!

Well done.

A pity about the window.

I thought it was open.

I don't care about Maider.

But, I don't know.

A Sevillian? For fuck's sake!

What kind of example is
that for a daughter?

Don't worry, Amaia
has taken after you.

That's right. She can
say what she wants,

but she takes after her father.

She always says nice
things about you.

She's really missed you.

She told you that?

Yes. She's always "Koldo this",
"Koldo that, Koldo this,"

"Koldo... that."

We hadn't talked for a
long time. Years even.

She really suffered, you know.

She finds it hard to say things,

but she loves you more than
anything in the world.

Well, like Antxon loves me.

You're lovely.

Well, ama, it's time to go.

No, how can you leave now?

He can sleep here,
can't he, Amayita?

There isn't a lot of room here...

What did you call me?

You two go up to bed.

We'll make sure the wine
is finished, eh, Anne?

But if he doesn't want to
stay, we shouldn't force him.

No, that's all right.

If we have to sleep together,
for convenience, that's OK.

Do you think I'm stupid?

I've seen his clothes
in your drawers.

Amaia, he's caught us out.

Just let it go, we're too obvious.

Hey, one thing.

I want you to know that
I've really missed you too.

What?

Amaia, I love you.

Very much.

And I love you too, Antxon.

It's all right if you
don't finish the bottle.

What are you doing?

There's a lot of cloth down there.
Stuff has to breathe.

You didn't tell me your
mother was with a Sevillian.

It's obviously in the genes.

Put on your shorts, Antxon.

I'm not Antxon, I'm Rafael Quirós!

I'm a float bearer in the
brotherhood of the Divine Creator

and a member of Real Betis
Football Club: number 14,430.

I've got three photos with Gordillo,
two signed and one dedicated.

Just a minute!

Come in!

It's nothing.

Just to tell you that
I told Anne that,

as it's so late, she
should sleep over too.

I took sheets from
the hall closet, OK?

OK.

Tomorrow we'll all say
goodbye at the port.

Agur, aita.

How are you?

Great, "osendo". Eskerrik asko
for asking. How are you?

Hey, will you close
the door? Please?

All right...

Let go of me right now.

He came in so quickly, my love.

Stop calling me that.
And let go of me.

Fuck it...

You're just scared
that with contact...

What?

You'll be asking for a
bit of "cinnamon stick".

Have you never been in bed with a
woman without something happening?

Apart from you, no.

Well, with Rocío.

We just necked a bit. That's
because she was my cousin.

Then I'm going to be the first.

Only 'cause I'm playing
away from home.

Nothing happened in Seville.

You know what would've
happened if you'd stayed.

I'd have given you a ride...

in a carriage, drawn by four
white horses through Triana.

That would have knocked
the nastiness out of you.

You're so corny.

Maybe, but I've scored
more than Julio Iglesias.

And gold trimmings along the side,

and the horses with
their manes tossing,

with that special shampoo and
conditioner they have now.

And, clapping their hands,
the greatest in Spain:

"Los del rio".

- Look, no way.
- No way what?

Even if I was blind drunk,
I wouldn't get in one of those.

Well, well, well.

I'll tell you something.

Tonight you're going to lose out
because I've got my dignity.

I'm getting on the floor.

And were they really...?

No doubt about it.

Antxon's shorts were on the floor.

Wow!

And you...

saying Amaia might just make
him sleep on the floor.

The thing is...

she's changed so much.

If you knew what she
was like with boys.

Here.

That's it.

Chin-chin.

I need some sleep.

I want to leave early tomorrow.

The port is going to be
fucking crowded with...

txalupas and arrantzales
who've been catching squid

and I want to avoid the fuss.

Of course.

Anne, the bathroom, if you
want to know, is upstairs...

- Second on the left.
- All right.

- Can you get up OK?
- Yes.

Well...

See you tomorrow.

See you tomorrow, love.

Anne.

What?

Everything OK?

- What?
- The bathroom, did I tell you?

Yeah, you told me.

That's why I'm telling you.

Good, well, eskerrik asko,
thank you. Good night.

Sleep well. Agur.

See you tomorrow.

Anyway, look, we're not
going to stretch this out.

I had a great time
with you all. Fantastic.

But I hate goodbyes so...

it's best to say nothing.

I should go now because otherwise
we'll all get emotional.

Have a good wedding.

Enjoy it... Antxon,

I'm sorry if at first...
You know...

We're like that here.

- Should I go, Amaia?
- No.

Look, I mean...

we've had a great time but...

if you have to go, it's a pity.

- There'll be other occasions.
- Yes.

Would you like me to visit
you from time to time?

- Of course.
- When?

I don't know, just, in general.

All right, txikichu, if
you've nothing more to say...

Agur.

What did you say?

Eh? Nothing.

I know what you're up to.

What?

All of it, Amaia.

I couldn't and I didn't have...

How can I not stay for the wedding?

Because you can't.

Maybe the christening.

Yes, but it wasn't a question.

Excuse me?

A father has to be there.

I'm staying. For the
wedding and whatever else.

With you, in Argoitia.

What? No, wait, wait.

No, no fucking waiting.

I've waited too long.

I should never have gone away!

That's right, Koldo!

What do you mean, ama?

He can't decide just like that.

Why not? Of course I can.

That's it, decided.

No, look, you can't
come to the wedding

and coincide with ama.
You said so yourself.

She's the one hanging
out with Andalusians.

If a Sevillian can be there,
why the fuck can't I?

Are we stupid or what?

Why did you do that?

I don't know, it was the
emotion of the moment.

Eh, Antxon?

I'm calling Fr. Inaxio right now
and he can make time for you.

No, aita.

If I'm paying a fortune
for the reception

- let me pick the priest at least.
- What?

Didn't you tell him the
reception is on me?

But no sirloins or chops.

A three-pound T-bone for everyone.
Maybe the Sevillian will choke.

I'll call the priest.

Shit, the phone was in there.

We'll have to go to the chapel,
and it's in the sticks.

Well, we'll go.

The couple must be aware

of what is involved when
they come before God

to ask Him to bless their union.

For that reason, it is
very important to be sure

that the person we are
with is the right one.

Amaia, tell me,

did you always know Antxon
would be your companion?

Well, to be honest,
at first I didn't.

You didn't?

Why was that? Tell me,
and what happened

so that in the end
you're here together?

I don't know.

He's a good person.

Amaia, there are
lots of good people

but he must have done something
that the others didn't.

Father, ask her what I haven't
done, it'll be quicker.

Your turn, Antxon.

I'll ask you the same:

why Amaia?

I don't know.

What do you like about her?

Well,

right now, off the top of my
head, I can't think of anything.

Hey, there must be something.
I think so, anyway.

Two days ago you liked
everything, and now, nothing?

That's it.

Something. Think, Antxon.

Well...

One thing is that
she's very honest.

She always tells the truth.

She's never lied to her father, and
with me, honest from the start.

OK, that'll do.

And another thing, she's the
most affectionate person I know.

She's always hugging people.

Isn't that something?

Another thing I'm crazy
about is her hairstyle.

Oh, young people...

Well, that's great, just great.

But it's not enough.

Now you have to confess.

Confess?

Yes.

You're a Christian, aren't you?

Christian and practising
and apostolic and Roman.

- Is it necessary?
- Please, what a question.

Of course.

Hail Mary, full of grace.

- Conceived without sin.
- Very good.

We can start.

Antxon, why do you
never come to mass?

Father, I go to mass every Sunday.

I had my First Communion and
even asked about the second one.

And I sang a "saeta"
at my Confirmation.

A what?

My name isn't Antxon.

I'm Rafael Quirós, from
Santa Cruz, in Seville.

Antxon was the name
of Amaia's fiancé.

They were going to
get married, right?

But the wedding was called off.

I met Amaia this week in Seville.

We kind of hit it off and I took
her home to sleep with her.

I admit it, Father,
to commit a sin.

One, or several, depending
on how it went,

because I'd been drinking,
but not that much.

I didn't consummate,
she fell asleep and...

I didn't touch her.
I swear I didn't.

If I rubbed up against her a bit it
was because the mattress is soft.

I came here to see her and she
told me to pretend to be Basque,

to be her fiancé.

Yesterday I said I was
touching her waist.

It was a lie. I touched her ass,
as much of it as I could, and more.

Make a note of that.

Give me all the prayers you want,

because I'm the new Andalusian
leader of the kale borroka too.

Don't worry, there's
no wedding tomorrow.

I'm going back to Seville.

As soon as she's distracted,
I'm on the bus.

That's about it.

Oh, last week I changed some
skirting board for a friend

and didn't charge him VAT.

I know that's wrong, but
I couldn't charge him.

The day before I
screwed his girlfriend.

Father, are you OK?

Get out, get out, get out!

Koldo!

- Are you all right, Inaxio?
- Bai, bai.

It's odd this happened to you.

No, it's not odd.

You have to eat more sugar.

You need beetroot.

This person...

What do you think of my son-in-law?

Amaia is the one who has
to be sure about him.

Amaia, etorri.

Come here, child.

Don't you have something very
important to tell your aita?

What?

No, don't worry,
when we get home...

I can't believe it.

I never expected this.

You're...

Maybe you're making a big
thing of the wedding.

How could I not make
a big thing of it?

It is what it is.

I've told all the
cousins in Hondarribia.

You called them already?

Yes.

I told you you couldn't
come here and...

All of them?

All of them!

I don't care if you haven't
seen them in years.

They're your cousins,
they're Zugastis.

And at the wedding I want the Zugastis
to be in the majority, dammit!

Amaia, you look beautiful!

Now that's what I call a dress.

And Antxon?

Antxon?

Don't worry, I know he
can't see the dress.

He said he was going for a walk.

Get out of here,
I have to take this off.

Go on down to the sitting room.

I'll be right down.

Go on.

Go on, please, aita.

Wait. Wait a minute.

Damn you to hell, Rafa! Stop!

- Let go of me!
- Let me explain.

I don't care.

I'm going to Seville.
Don't you get it?

Let go of me!

I'm sorry, I never thought
this would go so far.

- You knew.
- How could I know he'd stay?

You knew this wouldn't work.

Even if it had, you'd
have sent me to Seville.

I wish it had worked.

But now we're in a mess.

No, that's your problem.

I can't take any more.

Wait.

We'll cancel the wedding.

If we do, your father will kill me.

I can't tell him all this now.

If you like, I'll dump you,
in front of everyone.

Ekerrik asko but agur.

All right, go and don't come back!

I'm never coming back here again!

I didn't ask you to come! Who
the fuck told you to come?

The handle, the handle!

Well...

Go on.

Come on.

What time is it?

No, it can't be!

Fucking hell!

Aita?

Epa. What are you two up to?

What?

Haven't you left yet?

Tell them it's all right
if they don't come.

No, yesterday when you
came back so late

and making all that
racket, I knew that...

Doing these things in
a hurry is a bad idea.

They can get married another
day, or another year.

Yes, we're leaving now.
We're on our way.

Where are we going?
You're crazy, my love.

Or shit, or fuck, or whatever.

Tell them to forget about it.

We insist on people marrying and
maybe they shouldn't do it so much.

Get a move on.

The groom's family is here
and they're a bit nervous.

Obviously.

What do you...? You're mixed up..

No, Mikel and Aitor.

You didn't tell them about
changing the church

and they happened to meet Anne.

Don't tell him, but
they seem a bit odd.

They must be from Álava.

They must be from
the Clemente side.

We'll see you in a minute.

Well, your family has come.

What family?

I think Merche is messing it up.

Listen, Amaia,

you will jilt me at the
wedding, won't you?

Come on, let's go.

Aupa!

- Are you all right?
- Yes, what are you doing here?

Don't worry, we've got the
ransom money, in 100 notes.

Keep your voice down.

We've got our code
names: Mikel and Aitor.

No, Aitor and Mikel.

Well, whatever.

Who told you that?

A woman who says she's your
mother. What happened?

Did you succumb to violence?

We marked the notes so
we can break up the cell.

Look, we're going, but we
have to wait a minute.

See? He's been brainwashed
by the nationalists.

No, the three of us are going
to Seville but we have to wait.

All right.

Your ama hasn't come and
I don't think she's coming.

No, I know.

I knew this would happen.

She heard you invited
me and she got angry.

She's always the same.

Screw her and him.

They can fuck off to El Rocío.

But don't worry, they
won't ruin our day.

- Come on...
- You know, aita,

these things, when
you look at them...

Weddings are a fuss about nothing.

Yes.

When I arrived, you both scared me.

You were odd, but I've seen you
together these days and...

I know you, and I know when
you really like someone.

What would you know?

How could I not know?

Amaia, sweetheart, yes,
those six years are there.

But I see you now and
I know you're in love.

Come on, let's get you married.

I knew you'd win her over.

Basques are like that,
all independence,

but, in the end, they
love Spanish things.

- There won't be a wedding.
- What?

Fucking hell!

Who are they,
the T-bone terrorists?

Don't worry.

Amaia's going to jilt me.

Brethren,

we are gathered here to
celebrate the wedding

of Antxon...

- That's right, isn't it? "Antxon".
- Yes. Antxon.

- Are you sure?
- About what? My name?

I'm asking because this has
consequences with God...

Not just with God, with Koldo.

With the people of Argoitia, etc.

Yes, I'm sure.

We'll see if she is.

What?

I don't know. Are you sure?

Why?

I don't know, you
don't look very sure.

Amaia,

do you take... Antxon for
your lawful wedded husband?

- Amaia!
- In a minute, shit!

I do.

Damn.

Antxon, do you take Amaia for
your lawful wedded wife?

Think carefully about the answer.

If nothing else, we've got
all the time in the world.

- I can't.
- Great!

If that's how it is, I'm sorry,
I have to stop the ceremony.

Hold your horses, Inaxio.

What's wrong, Antxon?

I'm not sure.

No, you're nervous. That's normal.

Amaia, talk to him.

I'm sorry, Koldo.

What the fuck are you doing?

Anne!

Anne...

I knew I couldn't trust a Clemente.

Oh, Koldo...

- There is no Clemente.
- What?

And he isn't called Antxon.

- Come off it!
- And I'm not called Anne.

Now, you're going to tell me
you're not even his mother.

Christ!

I think there were a few
details I never told you.

Yeah.

- Bai?
- Aita.

Amaia...

We have to meet.

Yes, I have to talk to you, too.

Tonight?

OK. Agur.

Are you all right?

I don't know.

I guess it had to happen.

Maybe not.

Maybe it didn't have to happen.

Let's just say I'm not
very lucky with men.

I told you I didn't want you to
make the same mistake I made.

Yeah.

I'm stupid.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry about what happened,
and it was all my fault.

No, mine too, I was a bit naive,

because he had a
fucking terrible accent.

But I guess I wanted it to be true.

A family, kids, the whole thing.

Anyway, take this.

It's for you.

The money for the
reception. There it is.

What for?

Amaia, take it.

You know what to do with it.

No, I don't want it.

Amaia!

You forgot this.

No, I don't want it.

Amaia, take it.

Agur.

Agur.

Don't worry.

I'll be waiting for
you here in Argoitia.

But, listen,

don't bring me a grandchild who supports
Sevilla if you don't bring the father.

And if it's Betis?

Give me a fucking break.

Today we're going to have stew.

I'm serious, Rafa,
they brainwashed you.

I don't mean in the
"literary" sense...

Well, that too, because they
took away your hair gel.

I mean in how you see life, your
philosophy, your development, your...

Joaquin, we get the message.

Pepito was the same after Iraq.

It's not the same as Iraq.

You've been there.

Now you'll say the
Basques are witty.

They're not one bit funny.

I know this is crazy,

turning up like this,
but don't speak.

Let me talk, I've been thinking

about what to say and
I almost have it.

Rafa,

I think that we
needed one more day.

And this. I found it in the street.

Say something.
I'm really suffering.

Well...

Seen like this, it is a bit corny.

But does it work or not?

Boss, will you head
for Triana, please?

I have to talk to this girl.

Is it far away?

With the carriage and
"Los del río" and all,

the wedding money's almost gone.

Be quiet. All this talking...