Original subtitles

Subtitles by explosiveskull www.OpenSubtitles.org

Beneath the arms of your chairs,

if you haven't already noticed, are two buttons.

Your left, to vote for freedom,

under your right arm

is a vote for death.

Advertise your product or brand here contact www.OpenSubtitles.org today

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

He makes me to lie down...

He restores my soul:

He leads me in the paths of righteousness for His name's sake.

Even though I walk

through the valley of the shadow of death...

I will fear no evil, for You are with me;

Your rod and Your staff they comfort me.

You prepared a table before me...

...and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

Daddy?

Come here. Don't stand up, okay?

I'm here, mother.

Sniper! Get 'em out of here!

- Get 'em out of here! - Move! Move! Move!

Get back in the car!

Take the south side of the street.

What happened?

You don't want to know. Just get us out of here.

Anybody got eye?

Over here!

I'm here to seek forgiveness for my sins, Father.

But your sins are far too harsh for forgiveness.

What?

- This is top of the line, premium stuff. - Okay. Okay.

Ah!

Double dealing.

You can have it.

All of it.

I called him that evening, and we made plans to meet.

Had you seen or met him somewhere before?

I never know them, Doctor.

Well, it's our time for today. Same time next week?

Come on.

Lucy, tell me something.

Why is it that every time I set you up with a client,

I never hear back from them?

Look, if you don't want to work with me...

No, darling, please, stay.

Do business as usual.

Who the fuck are...

I think I'm gonna take off.

Alright. Well, catch you tomorrow.

Yeah.

What's going on? I can't see a thing.

Oh, fuck.

Moving only makes it worse.

Who said that?

Doesn't matter.

Oh.

God.

Oh.

Fuck.

I guess this is the part we get to meet our host.

Ladies, gentlemen,

killers alike.

Killers?

What are you talking about?

That puta Madam Nadia sent you, didn't she?

I know it was fucking her.

If it is the smugglers you work for,

I and my associates can pay you more.

Oh.

Such energy and bravado

from those who deal in death.

Hmm.

Allow me to apologize for the lack of lavatories.

Your actions will not be frowned upon.

I have also provided water, as you see,

if I find you deserving.

Who the fuck are you kidding?

I'm lying here, in my own piss and shit.

You're roasting us with these electric heaters every hour on the hour

and now what, you're gonna offer us water?

Where the fuck did you learn your manners, you fucking cocksucker, you?

I'll... I'll have some water, if you don't mind.

Seriously?

You've been here what, all of fucking five minutes?

Who are you? What do you want?

I'm Emaramus.

Emaramus Kloath.

Hi.

But I think it's the latter,

far more pertinent to you, Mr. Fofana.

Your killing spanned three continents.

Very impressive.

And Mistress Lucy.

Black widow of rich sadists.

And Romero, Mr. Scaranelli,

hit man extraordinaire, real tough guy.

And of course, let's not forget

the sweet but not so innocent Mrs. Gunthery.

Not so talented as you're brushing death, dear.

It's a shame the world doesn't recognize it.

Leave her the fuck alone, you piece of shit!

And last,

we have Professor Curtis Tiddleman.

You know, it's only by chance you came to join us.

I was merely enjoying my evening's drink

when I saw you stalking that pretty blonde girl.

No.

I've never seen such subtle malevolence in someone's eyes.

And I have been around some very nasty characters in my day.

Only the devil knows what you would've done to that poor woman.

So, all these people are killers?

Yes, killers, just like you, Mr. Tiddleman.

Killers who will not only decide your fate,

but the fate of one another as well.

I'm not a killer.

It's like going to a nightclub, and you can't get in,

and you don't know the bouncer, and you're not dressed right,

and you don't have enough money to grease the bouncer.

And this is why privilege

is a primary barrier

to social mobility.

Yes?

What about the American Dream?

I mean, if you're smart

and you work hard, you can have it all?

All right, let's talk about that, because I've heard that, too.

What are you shooting from behind the arc, mid to high 30s?

What? Come on, Mr. T.

Try 41.8.

Ooh!

Okay, all right. So you're a natural athlete,

and on top of that, you work really hard.

Definitely.

Since I was like six or seven.

All right, there you have it.

Okay.

So this is gonna be like another day at the gym for you.

I would like everyone here to take out a piece of paper

and write your name on it and crumble it up into a little ball,

and I am going to take this awesome hat here.

I'm gonna hold it out.

And if you can throw the piece of paper into the hat,

sitting where you are,

I will give you an A on tomorrow's quiz.

Let's play ball.

We're waiting for you, Mr. 41.8.

Yeah, I know, I know.

I just don't want nobody interfering with perfection.

Damn it.

Close, but no cigar.

So that was a lesson in social mobility and privilege, right?

Because the front row,

they're the privileged,

but also the minority.

And the socioeconomic construct of society means the farther away you are,

the less likely it is that you are going to achieve the American Dream.

Even Mr. 41.8,

with all of his natural talents

and all of his years of hard work,

he came up short.

He represents the majority.

So what I... I'd like the front row to do,

the privileged,

is to turn around and look at the people behind you.

And my message to those of you today

who are fortunate enough to be positioned in life to obtain privilege,

be it by fortune or by birth,

is to never forget the people positioned behind you

because then your fortune

becomes our misfortune.

See you tomorrow.

Valid point, Mr. T.

Thanks, Jamal.

Wow.

You really know how to capture the hearts and minds of your students.

Thank you.

I'm Christine Jennings, English Department.

Uh, nice to meet you.

I'm late for...

Okay.

And you think because you saw me

try to work up the nerve to ask a co-worker out

that I'm a killer too?

Do you realize how ridiculously insane that sounds?

You're crazy.

I've never harmed anyone in my life.

Well, that's not for me to decide.

It's this time, I do have my reserved judgment, of course.

And I will exercise it if your peers choose not to...

Peers?

Mm-hm.

What are you gonna do, you're gonna call the police?

It's true?

You're really all killers?

Yes.

Killers, just like you.

- No. - Mr. Tiddleman.

- No. - Killers who will...

- No. - ...all vote on your fate and the fate of each other.

Who are you to label us?

You know nothing about us. You know nothing about me.

Can I come in?

All right-

Tell me, why aren't you playing outside with the other kids?

I don't know any of them, I'm scared.

What are you scared of?

That the kids won't play with me.

You don't know that.

Look babe, see this ring?

This is a halo.

Like an angel?

Yes, exactly.

And you now what?

Because you're going be an angel that's

going to fly through her adventures without fear of anything

And you know everyone loves angels.

Okay, ready?

Come on.

Oh, I know what you know and don't know.

And I know you better than you know yourself.

Wait.

What do you mean decide one another's fate?

Oh, Ms. Gunthery, so good of you to join in.

Well, one by one,

each of you is going to give an account

of what led you to embark on the life of a killer.

And after the accounts have all been weighed,

we shall vote.

You gotta be kidding me.

You are one sick motherfucker, you know that?

Dom, Tony, come on.

Sometimes I wonder if this what being a man with two kids is like.

Hey, buddy.

It's buy and read, not the other way around.

You keep the change.

Retirement might be just around the corner.

You'd better hope I don't get out of here.

Example, Ms. Gunthery.

Yay or nay?

Does she get to live,

or is she punished by death for her acts?

You will, of course, get to vote on your own fate,

as with the rest of you, in the true spirit of democracy.

Death doesn't frighten me.

Frightens the hell out of me.

Spoken like the wise professor you are.

Yeah.

You're right, death is nothing to be frightened of in and of itself,

it's merely the inheritance of life.

But how one meets their deaths

can be

quite frightening and painful,

beyond anything imaginable.

What if we refuse to play along?

What an excellent question!

Well, that is when my reserved judgment will come into play,

and each and every one of you

will meet unimaginable suffering and anguish before you die.

So what makes you think we won't just vote each other out of here?

Because I know you better than you know yourself.

I guarantee you.

How refreshing is the river of life even among death, huh?

Well, I'm excited.

Who wants to give the first account of a killing?

Stop it.

I was a boy of 12.

My sister, a few years younger when they came.

They killed the men.

Raped the women.

Most of the children were forced to slave

in the diamond mines, or fight the war.

We were chosen for the mines.

You, come. Come.

Don't leave me.

Stay. I'm not leaving, I promise.

Now! You go play goal man. Go.

Grr.

Again!

Stop it.

You, you and you, hold her down.

- No. - No! No, no, no, no!

- Hold her down. - No, no!

No!

Get up. Get up. Get up!

Please don't hurt her. I'm sorry.

You go play goal man now.

Yeah.

No!

For every goal you let go,

I will have my men cut off her limb.

No!

No! No! No!

No! No!

No! No!

- Hold her. - Fatima, no!

You, you, begin!

Ugh!

That one, bring him here.

That was the first time I killed a man,

and with him died all that I knew

and loved.

A land plagued by the chaos of war and suffering,

very little ever makes sense.

How could you not help those like the family that you lost?

I believe you were trying to say

that your fellow captives here have been...

how do you say,

relating to the boy that he had been.

However, yet, that boy died someplace

between the death of his sister

and the death of the man that killed her.

Right?

Everyone must find their own way in life.

But you didn't find your own way.

True. And I choose to accept it.

It was befitting

that the man who allowed me to avenge my sister

took me in as a son.

He was named Ghost.

Ghost educated me in the ways of the uncivilized disguise

in the trimming of the civilized world.

They also hire us

to track down diamond smugglers around the world

and stop the flow of illegal diamonds.

Ghost taught me not only how to survive in the cruel world

where the weak are prey for the rich and strong,

but also how to get ahead in it.

Ghost fell ill and sent for me.

This is where I leave you.

You go on.

Faber will lead.

In the beginning, I was driven by a sense of loyalty and gratitude to Ghost.

But in the end,

the idea of money and power begins to consume one.

Wait here.

I always go in with the Ghost.

I'm not Ghost.

Good afternoon, gentlemen.

I am now the boss.

Told you to wait outside.

Ghost is gone.

And I'm taking his place.

Do any of you have a problem with this?

Huh? Huh?

Okay. Now to business.

Judgment is God's alone.

God's judgment is for the afterlife.

Man's judgment is for this life.

Regardless though,

we're not here to judge him for the actions of the boy he had been,

but rather the actions of the man that boy became.

I wasn't expecting you.

Have I ever failed to complete a job?

No one would have blamed you for this one.

Yet, I am pleased, to say the least.

Then show me your gratitude.

I will see you again.

Freeze! Police!

Hands above your head!

On your knees!

Now!

You really get around, huh.

Guinea, the Netherlands, Sierra Leone.

That law enforcement loves you over there.

Grease some palms.

But you're in the civilized world now

and things are going to be different this time around.

This time,

you're getting charged with murder.

Multiple, in fact.

And that's just the beginning.

We have a witness.

Now.

A man like you is probably too busy to keep up with technology.

You know, cameras are everywhere these days.

Here, you can have it, all of it.

Just... just let my nephew go, please.

Please, I'm begging you.

He hasn't harmed you.

Please, just let him go. He's an innocent boy.

Don't! No. No!

That young man you shot,

he's alive.

If you tell us about the diamonds and the network behind them,

the prosecutor is willing to cut you a deal.

Captain.

Cut him loose.

Why?

We have a witness. And there's the nephew.

He didn't make it.

And the witness in the backroom is recanting as we speak.

Detective, the cuffs.

Thanks again.

Keep your calendar open.

Enjoy.

I got an account to give.

Why don't you go fuck yourself, motherfucker?

How original.

Well, that was to be expected.

You're never tolerated.

Oh, shit.

Why are you doing this?

Because I can!

So who's next?

Lucy Black.

Or should I say Lucia Lopez?

You want to hear my story? Okay.

My mother, she came here illegally, she was framed by some rich cunt.

I was sent to an orphanage.

I had a horrible fucking childhood.

And now I'm here.

From worse to doomed.

Next?

It's cute. Okay.

What? Wait, wait, wait.

Oh.

Can you give me some water first?

Sure.

Nice.

Tell us your story.

My mother, she wanted me to have

all the same rights and opportunities as an American.

You don't have to be scared.

You wanna know why?

Because life is a book full of stories

with all types of unknown adventures.

And it's what we don't know

that we sometimes fear.

But we wouldn't have adventure

without the unknown.

I have something for you.

What is this, mom?

It's for you, my little angel.

Now you'll be able to fly to all your adventures,

like an angel in the sky,

watched over by God, protecting you.

My mom says they are illegal.

That was my world, you know.

She even took this job as a maid for this rich family

because it allowed her to spend more time with me.

Would you like a cup of coffee, Sir?

No, I can handle it on my own from here, thank you.

Actually, I think I will take a cup, on second thought.

Sir.

- No, no, no. Shh. - Please.

Don't be afraid.

You are very beautiful.

What the hell is going on?

- Ah! - Shit.

- What were you doing with her? - Nothing.

It was an accident. Don't be ridiculous.

That's one accident too many. Fire her.

I'm not gonna fire her.

Fire her now!

No.

And lower your voice.

I'm not gonna lower my voice.

My Little Angel

Work was really hard to find without papers,

and we definitely needed the money.

Wait.

Where's my jewelry?

Mommy.

- I no understand. - Oh, don't give me that ignorant immigrant cliché.

Please, signora. We go and never return.

It's too late.

We'll go.

That's her!

No, no!

Mommy!

Lucia!

Not long after, I was placed in the care of the state

and because the wife was an influential member of the social elite,

my mother, she received a really harsh prison term.

I found out later that she'd been released early,

but that they hadn't deported her.

Being locked away, it had broken her.

She didn't even recognize me.

She died a few years later at the age of 40,

but I know they killed her.

At 18, I got a job as a stripper.

Not long after, I met Madam Nadia.

She ran this escort service that catered to clients all around the country.

And she was looking to recruit new girls.

She said it wouldn't involve sex.

What it did involve was the inflicting of pain

on rich couples for sexual pleasure.

Sadism.

- Thank you. - Of course.

I'll take it.

What appealed to me more so than the money?

It was the opportunity to bring pain to the kind of people

that brought so much pain and suffering to me and my mother.

Like usual, I received a correspondence through a PO Box.

Inside was the key, the address, and what would be expected of me.

There I stood,

in the kitchen of the couple's home my mother had worked for.

And it all came back to me.

The beginning of a nightmare,

that cruel nightmare that life wouldn't let me escape from.

So you want to know what I did?

Well, aren't you the cutest little creature?

I've got him all taken care of.

So,

where do you think we should start?

I embraced it.

I became that horror, that pain.

Long ago,

a young, pregnant, beautiful Mexican woman

came to this country to give birth to a baby girl.

To raise that girl with a sense of who her father was,

an American killed in Mexico.

This woman, she possessed the most loving spirit.

She busted her ass every day

to see all the hopes and dreams of her daughter become a reality.

And then she had the misfortune of being employed by the two of you.

You, the sexual deviant who bombarded with sexual advances.

And you,

the heartless bitch who planted jewelry in her purse

and had her sent away.

You know, you killed her.

My mother.

Oh, there would be others after them,

for their arrogant sense of entitlement

and to hell to anybody who wanted a place in their life.

Pray for my place next to you, mom.

Those who misuse privilege are breeding elitism and disconnect from humanity.

Those who are victims of such

are consumed by resentment and hatred.

That's the way the world goes, Professor.

To consider someone equal, socially or economically,

threatens the elite.

You speak from the position of the threatened.

I agree.

All of this speaks to me of an elitist attitude.

Elitist? No.

More elite?

Yeah.

You know, you're a real asshole, you know that?

No, I didn't know that. Thank you for the revelation.

Since you wanna share so much, why don't, uh,

why don't we start with you, Mr. Scaranelli?

Would you like some water?

Why? So I can piss myself again?

Okay.

What the fuck?

You fucking motherfucker, my fucking dogs?

You piece of shit.

No!

You son of a bitch! I'm gonna fucking kill you!

You are fucking dead!

Dom, Tony, it's okay, it's okay, I'm here. I'm here.

You motherfucker, get off me!

You piece of shit.

You promise me you're not going to hurt them.

I want you to look at them, really look at them.

If you tell me a story,

I promise I won't hurt them again,

and I'll make sure they have good homes if you don't make it out of here, okay?

Can you do that?

Let's begin with your two best friends

that you've named your beloved canines for.

Dom.

Dom, Tony and I felt that rules only served one purpose.

They were made to be broken.

Alright, here.

Alright, give me the name...

We used to hand out beatings for a guy named Nicky.

He used to run the sports betting for the mob at the local neighborhood.

- It's three of them. - Are you alright?

Nicky would often talk about moving up in the family

and taking us with him and it was a...

it was a dream we hoped would one day become a reality.

- Thank you. - Appreciate it.

- Call us in. - Job well done.

Except after one night of going out,

our whole world turned to shit.

That guy's cute.

Don't stare.

- I'm just gonna get a drink. Do you want one? - Vodka.

- Vodka? - Vodka.

First dibs.

Wait. On sight. Pick a friend.

Hello. I'm Romero.

Hi. Sasha.

How you doing?

You, uh, mind if me and my friends join you and your friends for a game?

Sure.

But I'm afraid there won't be much of a game.

You see, we're not very good.

That's no problem. We'll mix it up.

You could be on my team.

I'll teach you everything I know.

I think I'd like that very much.

All right.

This is Dom, Tiny Tony.

Alexandra.

- Cheers. - Cheers.

Fuck.

Look at you, such a fast learner.

- So good. - Hey.

Vadim, please stop!

Gentlemen! Gentlemen! Knock it off!

Romero, you guys know better than this.

We were just shooting pool and this commie took a swing at me.

- He is my ex. We've been broken up for months. - Let's go. You're out of here.

Hey, get your fucking hands off me.

Sasha, come with me.

Misha, we broke up. You have to leave.

We will never break up.

And you, you don't know who you're fucking with here.

Right back at you, buddy.

- Time to go. - This ain't over. I'll get your ass!

Bye.

I am so sorry. Are you all right?

Yeah, I'm good. I'm good.

This is my ex. We've been broken up for months. He's crazy.

That guy? Come on, let's go play.

- Okay. - Come on, I'll show you a couple of other things.

Let's go for another!

I graced them a few times on the dance floor.

I bet you did.

- Hey! - Oh, God!

Run!

Come here, bitch.

Let's fuck off, let's go!

Turns out the blonde's ex was the son of some high-ranking Russian mobster,

and he was looking for us.

- Get in! - Oh, Nicky!

Look, kid.

I tried to go and bat for you guys,

but nobody wants to go to war over a few kids who ain't made their bones yet,

and risk losing all the money they made doing business with the Russians.

So what the fuck, Nicky? Me and the boys are just left out to dry?

- And the fucking cocksuckers. - Fuck!

Things would be different if I was in charge, kid.

Yeah, I know.

Take it.

Now, listen. You get the others, and you get out of town;

you don't waste time and you don't look back.

Hey.

These guys never forget.

Get out of here.

I think mine's broken.

I think mine's broken.

- Babe, babe. - Yo, make yourself useful.

Hey, fuck you.

Ah!

Never in a million years would I imagine it ended the way that it did.

Oh, God!

Yo, somebody call an ambulance.

It's okay. I'm here.

I'm here. It's me, bro. Look at me, bro.

No, it's okay. All right? You did good. Come on.

You stay with me. You just stay strong.

No, Dominic, look at me.

Fucking look at me, right?

And you get out of town, you don't waste time and you don't look back.

These guys never forget.

Neither will I.

So, I went to the one place that I knew they would never look.

My superiors suggested I apply for special ops, so I did.

I passed the qualification course and I became an army ranger.

I did two tours of duty and 12 reconnaissance missions,

but I was ready to come home.

- How's it going, Nicky? - Ah...

Who the fuck are you?

What?

Romero.

What are you doing back?

Happy to see me?

Not if it means you're getting killed.

Hey, I'm the one who's going to be doing the killing this time around.

Nicky filled me in on the Russians

and how they had even more joint business ventures with the family,

something he was very much against.

Despite all his years of loyalty

he still had a hard time coming up in the family,

so together, what we did was, we devised a plan

in order to eliminate the Russians responsible for killing Dom and Tony,

along with wiping out the necessary players

to make sure that Nicky became head of the family.

Nicky!

Come on over here.

Take a look at that. Uh-huh?

Yeah.

Hello.

Hello.

I think we are alone.

Mm.

- My party girl? - Yes.

Ah, you're so young.

You make me feel young.

Mm. Good.

- You like powder? - Oh, yeah, I do. A lot.

I have.

Straight from my mother country.

By way of Colombia.

Careful, baby.

Your laugh might capture my heart.

Hmm, you know what?

No, thank you.

That's way too much responsibility.

Probably.

It's good, right?

A little bit for me.

Mm-hm.

Fuck off, fuck-face! Go someplace else.

Fuck. Don't you hear me? I said fuck off!

Leave him.

Fucking bitch.

What is it?

Sounds like you got off on it.

You know, I'm going to let you pass on that one, lady.

Some of the things, I'm not proud of, but overall, I have no regrets.

And those men deserve to die a horrible death.

Men like yourself, Mr. Scaranelli?

Hmm.

But what about innocent mother of Arthur Bacoon, that government informant?

She deserved to die too?

Hey, it's one of those things I'm not proud of.

Who are you kidding?

We all know it had nothing to do with your friends.

Oh, we never finish where we start off.

Our needs and our goals change.

Like, take you, for example.

You're never going to be your mother's.

Oh, fuck you.

Really? Would you?

I think I have some change.

You're lucky I'm tied up or I'll fucking get over there.

Oh... okay. I... I think what... what he's trying to say here

is that we all have an instinctual drive to right the wrongs done to us,

either by just cause or revenge.

Seriously, who the fuck asked you?

Revenge only takes you so far.

Is that right, Ms. Gunthery?

Like the revenge you never had satisfied?

Nice suburban upper-crust neighborhood, private school.

Your father, he was a good provider.

So undeserving of how he was treated.

Hi, Mr. Hutling.

Oh, hello, there young lady. Am I glad to see you.

- Really? - Sure. Here, give me a hand with these things.

- Oh, yeah. Sure. - I picked some vegetables. I have them in the house.

- I want to give them to your mom. - Oh, she'll like that.

Thank you.

Help!

Help!

Please!

Help!

Mom!

Mom!

Oh, my! Oh, my God! What happened?

I told him to stop, but he wouldn't. I told him. He wouldn't stop, mom.

He wouldn't stop

and he kept hurting me

- and he kept hurting me and he wouldn't stop. - Who? Who, honey?

Who did this to you, Marlene? Who?

Mr. Hutling.

It's going to be okay, baby. It's going to be okay.

What happened? What happened?

Mr. Hutling raped our daughter.

What?

Oh, it's okay, baby. Mama's going to take care of you.

Oh, my sweet girl.

Jim. Jim. Where are you going? What are you doing?

I'm calling the police.

Police? Come on, baby.

- Honey. - Come on, baby.

- What else do you expect me to do? - Come on. Come on, girl.

It's okay, baby.

Sit.

You look at me.

Mama's going to take care of this, okay?

Mommy's going to take care of you.

Katherine. Katherine, you're being irrational!

Katherine, wait a minute!

- Katherine. Katherine! - Get your hands off of me!

This is ridiculous, honey, please. Please, come back to the house.

Katherine.

My mother packed our things that night,

and we left my father.

I never saw him again after that.

I became pregnant as a result of the rape,

and went through a very difficult abortion.

The following years,

my mother took a very protective role in my life,

taking me to and from school.

I immersed myself in my schoolwork,

and shied away from social events or relationships, friends.

I hid myself.

Oh, excuse me. Hey. Hi, I'm Christopher.

I'm sorry. I have to get to class.

And no matter what I tried,

unwanted attention found me.

You're not going to at least tell me your name?

Uh, um... uh, I... I really have to get to class.

Sure, all right. Hey, just at least let me take you to coffee.

I'm sorry.

I can't.

Hey, hey, hey. Why are you being such a stuck-up bitch, huh?

Ah! Ugh.

Hey, didn't she tell you she had to go, man?

I'm sorry about these guys.

It's okay.

My name is Samuel.

Hi, I'm Marlene.

Hi.

I never really felt safe until Samuel stepped in that day.

I saw in him what my mother didn't see in my father,

someone who could protect me.

He was ambitious.

He knew what he wanted.

I love your daughter very much.

Marry me?

We bought a beautiful home together.

He made me smile every day.

The only thing that Samuel and I wanted more

than each other was a family.

In due time,

we discovered that I couldn't conceive.

The doctor told us that my

cervix was permanently damaged from the abortion.

Lord, you look gorgeous this evening!

Oh, God, I miss this.

You know, it's time for a toast.

It's when I confided in Samuel

about the rape

and he changed.

He felt that I had deceived him,

that I had lied about who I was

and what I could give him.

God, you're gorgeous.

To us!

To us. Cheers!

No, what are you doing?

Tonight we celebrate. Drink up.

You want to dance with me?

You're so gorgeous.

Samuel.

Yeah.

My... my head...

Go on.

Samuel.

Yeah.

Oh, yeah.

Yeah, yeah.

I don't have to tell you how this changes everything.

Infidelity is something that I just won't tolerate.

I want you out!

I want you out of my home immediately.

Why...

Why like this?

Well this,

this is for wasting my fucking time.

Oh, so, you want to kill me, huh?

Come on then!

The police ruled it an accident.

I found the copies he made of the tape and destroyed them.

A blinding hatred

for those who take and take

from everyone and everything around them

until there is nothing left to take

and then they find reason to take even more.

You going to blame every man or what two fucking sickos did to you?

Yeah, you're one sick poodle.

Who are you to call her sick? What if you were raped?

What they did to me only helped me to see the evil that men do.

Helped you to see the evil that men do.

Like, you make that sound so enlightening, profound even.

But what truths do these words really hold, Ms. Gunthery?

I mean, what evil did you see

in that handsome young artist

who strode into your gallery?

This is an incredible gallery. Are you the curator?

Well, anyway, I was passing, I had to come in.

And?

I was hoping there was someone I could speak to about my work.

Not interested.

Well, come on. You haven't even seen it.

Look, I'm going to leave my information.

I think you'll love my work.

Let me know.

In case you change your mind.

Would you like a drink?

Ah, yes, thank you.

Thank you.

What do you think?

Who is she?

Some model I met a few years ago.

We've done a few pieces together.

It's the loneliness in her pose I most want to communicate.

Hmm.

I can see that.

Except...

The shading here just bleeds into the sunlight a little.

Where?

He was more interested in figure painting

as a way to manipulate women into his bed

than as a form of artistic expression.

He was a man.

And I know the evil that men do.

Mr. Fofana, what is your opinion of Ms. Gunthery's action?

I have no opinion.

Really?

Why is that?

One's hardships are measured by one's own experiences.

It's not the hardships that are in question here though.

It's not the point.

It's the reaction, the response to the hardships.

Mr. Tiddleman,

what have your hardships led to?

Not... not to make light of any...

what anyone else here has gone through, you know,

but the only hardships I've known

are deciding how to engage and prepare my students

for this ever-changing life,

and you never know what awaits us.

I... I don't... I don't... I don't belong here.

Wow,

you really are the most intriguing of the bunch.

I got to give you that.

See, I don't have anything to go on, Mr. Tiddleman, I'll be honest.

I only briefly observed you

in pursuit of that little blonde girl, your co-worker.

That's the goddamn truth.

So you say.

How's the ex?

Uh, she's okay.

But hey, you know, you'd better make a move on Christine before I do,

because once she gets to know the Dunkin, it might be difficult for you.

You know,

I got you pegged as an opportunistic killer, Mr. Tiddleman.

I think you select your victims

more or less

the way in which you came to join us here tonight, by chance.

But I'm willing to bet it hasn't always been that way. Hmm.

I'm no more a killer than you are the King of England.

You have me figured wrong.

Please, I just want to go back to my students, please.

- Nah. - Please.

First, your story. We'll let your peers decide.

I swear, I'm not a killer, I swear.

Your story, Professor.

Ahh!

Your story, Professor.

All right, already. All right, yo, what are you going to do?

You... you're going to kill him before we even vote?

Is that compassion I hear in your voice, Mr. Scaranelli?

If I wasn't strapped to this chair,

I would stand up and give you a big New York finger to fuck off.

I've... I've never killed anyone.

Well, that's not for me to decide.

That's for all of you to decide.

Mr. Tiddleman

refuses to give an account,

and he denies that he's anything like the rest of you,

but know that it is my opinion,

he poses a greater threat than any of you combined.

The voting shall begin.

Beneath the arms of each of your chairs,

if you haven't already noticed, are two buttons.

To the right, a vote of death.

Left, a vote for freedom.

We'll begin with Mr. Fofana.

Your vote, Mr. Fofana.

In the beginning, I was driven by a sense of loyalty and gratitude to Ghost.

How were the rest of the families caught in the middle of it,

like you and your family had been?

I chose survival.

How could you not help families like the one you lost?

So, what is it we're doing here, again?

Vote or I'll vote for you.

I wouldn't want to give you the pleasure.

Everyone must find their own way in life.

Mr. Tiddleman.

You know, before we proceed,

I really do have to commend you on your little act today.

Classic psychopath.

But I guess we're going to find out how far that's going to get you.

We'll have you vote now.

No.

Vote, Professor.

I won't.

It's not right.

Okay.

I have enjoyed it, I do,

this little game you're playing.

So persistent.

Look at me, Mr. Tiddleman.

Look!

You know, I really don't know why you continue to persist.

None of them can hear us. It's just us.

I'm right about you. You're like me.

You don't know me.

You don't know me.

Okay.

Here's what I'm gonna do.

Each vote of yours

does not exist, a non-vote

will be considered a vote for your own death

and whoever you don't vote upon, and I'm going to give you ten seconds.

Oh. No.

No.

We will now vote on Ms. Lucy Black.

You have ten seconds.

Tick-tock, Professor.

No.

Ten seconds.

I'm not going to do it.

- I'm not. - Time's up.

Romero's fate will be next.

Hey, buddy, it's buy and read, not the other way around.

You keep the change.

Retirement might be just around the corner.

You're such an arrogant prick.

Sounds like he got off on it.

Never in a billion years would I have imagined it ended the way that it did.

We will now vote on Curtis Tiddleman.

And do not let his boyish charms and tears fool you.

Mr. Tiddleman, what have your hardships led to?

I swear to you, I am not a killer.

Think of it this way.

You may never get another chance to vent your hate.

So, what will it be?

Mr. Scaranelli,

you're really trying my patience.

You have voted three times consecutively for freedom.

You're making me question your involvement in the integrity of my process.

So, I have made a new decision.

Any non-vote by you or vote of freedom again

will constitute a vote of death for yourself.

Didn't I tell you that rules only serve one purpose?

Finally, to decide on the fate of Ms. Gunthery.

You're going to blame every man for what two fucking sickos did to you?

It wasn't a judgment based on observation, it was a fact.

He was a man.

Could you do me the courtesy

of relieving my curiosity and casting your own vote?

Just as I thought.

Mr. Tiddleman,

I can't help but notice, but all of your voting seems to be to free your peers.

Why is that?

You wanted me to vote.

I'm voting.

Yes, but your voting lacks the judgment of the truth

or truth of judgment that were.

Either way, it's boring.

What do you mean? These are your rules.

Yes, and rules, like laws, are amended every day,

so, a vote of freedom for Mrs. Gunthery

will now be a vote of death for you.

That's not fair.

You have ten seconds.

You keep changing the rules because you're going to kill us all.

Five seconds.

- You're lying. - Three.

Okay. Okay. Okay.

Oh.

Well done.

Bravo!

Well,

all things must run their course,

even curses.

Hmm.

Ah.

Ugh...

He let us go.

He didn't.

The others did.

Where are we?

Hang on, I think I see my car over there.

What?

Look, I don't know what you're thinking,

but I'm definitely done with whatever just happened over there,

and that's including you.

Oh, God! Please don't leave me. Hey!

Hey, please don't leave me.

Listen, if you're worried about what happened, you don't have to be, I promise.

I won't tell anyone anything. I promise.

Come on.

Thank you.

Lucy. Lucy. Lucy.

- Lucy. - Jesus! What?

I'm sorry about your mother.

Yeah, thanks.

Shit!

What?

It's just you... you don't seem fazed by what just happened.

So?

So, that... that guy, who was he?

How did he know the things he knew?

I don't know.

I think he might have been tied up with Madam Nadia somehow.

But also, who gives a fuck, yo?

I told you I was leaving this shit behind me.

Fucking let it go. We're alive, aren't we?

Are we safe?

How do you know he won't come after us?

Look,

this shit might be new to you,

but I've been living it through my entire fucking life,

so, if you feel the need to burden me with your shit, get the fuck out of my car.

No.

- What the fuck is wrong with you? - Shh!

Ugh!

Do you know this level of fear?

Ahh!

You motherfucker.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

Oh, shit!

Shit!

Fuck.

Fuck.

Oh, fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

Ah! Stop!

Stop! Get off!

Shh.

Shh.

Shh. Shh.

Rot in hell!

Professor Curtis Tiddleman.

Police! Stop right there! Down on your knees. Now!

In here.

I was going to tell you.

I'm sorry.

No.

Shh! Shh!

Shh! Shh!

...California's maximum-security prison,

where the execution of Curtis Tiddleman has been scheduled for November 3rd.

The former college professor has opted to allow his execution

without exhausting any of his appeals.

Tiddleman had been convicted of the murder

of seven women and seven teenage boys

and is believed to be responsible for potentially a dozen others.

Five years ago, police received an anonymous tip

that a woman had been abducted by a man

and driven away in her own car.

That woman was 25-year-old Lucia Perez.

Hello, Professor.

Shame on you for being so predictable.

Now the world has discovered your secret,

the knowledge of which must have come to an awful surprise to Lucia Perez,

being that you took it upon yourself

to overrule the decision of your peers and let her live.

An act that never would have taken place in a court of society's peers.

So, you see, Professor,

you are more in line with society than your peers.

Which brings me to this.

It must bother a man of your academic prowess to know

how it was that I recognized you for who and what you truly are,

but the answer is simple.

Unlike the others, you are a reflection of society,

holding dear its core principles and values along your life's path,

while committing murderous atrocities.

For this, Professor, you are a true anonymous killer.

I will give you five million if you set me free.

Ten.

Name your price.

My dogs.

I gave you my word.

You can't kill me.

Subtitles by explosiveskull www.OpenSubtitles.org

Support us and become VIP member to remove all ads from www.OpenSubtitles.org