Original subtitles

I've only cried three times in my life:

The day they hung Jack Ruccini, the day my son was born,

and the time I dropped a wing of a truffled chicken into Lake Ontario.

You don't have a chance.

Mr. Boroschnin, release your hostage.

I repeat:

Drop the gun and release your hostage.

Oskar?

It's time for our session.

I can't right now, Doctor.

Oskar, we should discuss this situation.

You promised to work on your aggression potential.

Give me a sign.

A sign of cooperation.

I wish I could cook you a wonderful dinner...

We'd talk about life for hours by candlelight.

I mean a more intensive kind of cooperation.

Sex?

You know what I mean.

Let him go and we'll do a breathing exercise.

I'm afraid it's time for me to go.

Oskar, what's up, man?

I was serious about dinner. I'd love to cook for you.

When?

Get your ass over here.

If you get in that car, it's good-bye forever.

Oskar, get moving!

But if you drop the gun...

We're talking 2 years from today...

2 years?

More or less.

Would that make you happy?

That would make me very happy.

Did you use this?

What?

Maria. The prawns.

Can you rinse them off again please?

You did use it.

You promised you'd quit that.

And I will.

Did you shoot at someone?

No.

It was just a...

A foot.

A what?

You shot someone in the foot?

Yes, a little.

Jesus, the bacon.

We're already packed.

Sometimes I wish you were back in jail.

In a few days we'll be far, far away.

But first, I gotta do what I gotta do.

Or they'll know what I'm up to...

He's leaving town.

It's not a pretty world out there.

That son of a bitch...

Not on your life.

I've got an old score to settle.

You coming?

Did I ever tell you the story about my uncle?

Keep in mind ...

my uncle made his funeral arrangements early.

The works, tutto completto.

Well, it isn't long before he kicks the bucket.

I call up and say: Folks, my uncle's dead,

come and get him.

Well, next day the funeral-home broad calls up ...

and tells me my uncle won't fit.

In the coffin, y'know?

I say: Look here, princess,

my uncle was on an IV drip for 3 months.

If he turned sideways, he'd disappear.

No way.

Yeah, skin and bones,

we're talking toothpick.

I could have buried him in a shoe box.

That pissed me off, you know me.

So I drive over there, and those assholes ...

had sold my uncle one of those kiddie coffins.

Here he comes. -Great.

We wait for Oskar.

Can't you take two steps without Oskar?

A little more respect.

We said we weren't going in without Oskar, OK.

So I ask them: What now?

Am I supposed to saw off his feet and bury them separate?

And that ditsy broad takes me seriously.

They honestly wanted to ...

sell me 2 kiddie coffins for 1 uncle. Me, a kiddie coffin.

I hate kids. I mean look at 'em: ugly and stupid.

A little more respect.

We said we were waiting for Oskar.

Besides, kids are OK.

At birth, but raising them fucks 'em up.

You got fucked up. -I did not get fucked up.

My father took a wet towel to me every day ...

and chased me out of the house.

It didn't harm me any.

What's keeping you?

Russki.

I have an appointment.

Go in without me.

No blood, OK?

No eye, no tooth, no nothing.

And no foot either, you hear?

We're going in.

After all?

Sorry, company business.

This is Diana. Diana meet Oskar.

Which company?

You wouldn't know the name.

I mean what kind of company is it?

A stick-your-nose-in-our-business- and-we-break-it kind of company.

Ooh, hot...

Oskar doesn't like that method.

Could it be that you've got a crush on Oskar?

What's wrong with this method?

Slow, painful,

perfect.

All I said was you're asking for trouble.

Look, I burn feet,

Oskar shoots feet. What's the difference?

Or would you rather I shot you in the foot?

See, look, look... He even wants me to burn his feet.

He didn't exactly say that.

Have you got a title for your book?

Is that it? -Yes.

Good title. -It's pronounced French.

It doesn't say anything. It's blank.

Are you crazy?

It's too dangerous to walk around with.

Listen.

We're a major publishing house.

We'll publish the most off-the-wall stories,

but we've never published a book without knowing what's inside.

Be assured we won't pay 1OO,OOO euros for a pig in a poke.

Alright then 5O,OOO.

Mr. Boroschnin, Maria was your prison shrink,

and I can imagine what kind of book "Secrets" is.

Secrets, it's French...

Screw the title if there's no book inside.

Alright, I'll bring you the whole manuscript for 5O,OOO.

Lovely.

Noon.

At the company.

In my business we kiss people good-bye if we can't stand them.

No violence, sweetheart.

No violence.

Sauna time.

Can't you ever be careful? You ruined my game.

Getting cold feet, hm?

Not for long.

Today's motto: no violence.

Great motto.

Run across the street and get me a bagel.

A bagel. Anyone else?

You maybe?

Two.

You're joking, right?

Something's going on here.

I feel it in my balls.

Short, hard, the language of the samurai and yakuza.

Valentin, tell him who I am.

Listen up, this is Oskar Boroschnin.

Remember, Oskar Boroschnin only repeats a question 3x.

Keep answering wrong and you won't live to eat another bagel, OK?

Question:

Have you every messed around with a female corpse?

You see,

that's what we heard.

And Mr. Daschajew is concerned because ...

you're supposed to be embalming his daughter.

Did you touch her?

You pervert.

Sorry.

Secrets. The Confessions of Oskar Boroschnin.

Well, well.

I want to know what Leo's planning.

What did you say, I can't understand you.

What? I can't understand you.

Keep it.

What's this?

A bagel, a Turkish bagel.

3OO years ago King Ladislaus defeated the Turks outside Vienna.

To show his gratitude a Jewish baker invented a roll ...

in the shape of a stirrup ...

and called it a bagel. Is this a stirrup?

I always say: Hunger's the best sauce.

Alright, what about Leo?

Tell me about Leo? -I don't know anything.

I swear,

and and...

And and what?

My sock's burning.

What's he talking about?

Say what?

Did you have plans with the stove?

No, we just thought ...

in case we felt like warming something up.

I see.

So you warmed something up?

Well, dig in.

C'mon...

Hunger's the best sauce.

Bon app�tit.

Eat.

How long were you together?

That was a long time ago.

Leo is a piece of shit, man.

Let's get her out of this dump.

Holy shit.

They're picking up Daschajew's daughter.

Why would they want her corpse?

Those bastards better not be fucking with my head.

Isn't this place good enough for them?

Watch the lobsters.

They've got to look good tomorrow.

All in a day's work, eh?

You've got something.

Other side.

Is it gone?

Give us a hand.

Take the pigeons out.

And clean off the coffin.

Wonder how pigeons taste. -Better than socks.

Thank you for bringing my Jelena back to me.

I should have done it years ago.

She always had to have her way.

Come with me.

That's fine.

My wife dies ...

and people think I'm fucked.

Do you think I'm scared of Daschajew?

No.

Just because his daughter's dead.

The doctors are bastards. "Manic-depressive"?

Fucked. That slut was a junkie, you hear.

A fucking junkie-slut, you hear.

If I catch you dipping your nose ...

ever so slightly ...

into my candy again,

I'm cutting it off.

See this? I'll cut it off.

I'll carve your fucking nose right out of your stupid face.

Tyson, throw her out.

So they came and got my Jelena?

Does Papa want to buy her a nicer coffin, or what?

Don't know. Haven't heard anything.

I don't give a fuck. Believe me.

I don't give a flying fuck. Deranged family.

Jelena was deranged too. Deranged and...?

Dimwitted.

While Jelena was married to Leo,

I wouldn't have dreamt of causing her pain.

But as soon as we bury my child,

I want you to exterminate that rat.

Can't we deal with this without violence?

Without violence, how?

I've come to detest run-of-the-mill violence ...

that has no purpose at all.

I'm through with shooting feet.

I don't want you to shoot his feet.

I want you to cut off his ears ...

and stuff them in his mouth.

Drench him in gasoline and light him ...

and then rip out his guts.

That isn't run-of-the-mill violence.

You're right.

What is it?

Time for the Hungarians?

Oskar will deal with that. Take Valentin, he's eager to learn.

Why?

I don't need him. -Take him along.

Did you want to tell me something? -What?

Come here.

Is it about Oskar?

Unfortunately.

This morning I noticed some papers lying in his car, they said:

"Secrets - My Confessions" And well...

And I suppose that got you thinking?

Yeah, of course.

I don't pay you to think. Now get lost.

I really admire you, man.

Cut the crap.

You're a legend.

I'm not a legend, I'm an idiot.

I wet my bed till I was 9. You don't want me as a role model.

Don't get me wrong, it's not that you're my role model.

It's more like if I...

How should I put it? If I...

If I wasn't me, I'd want to be you. -For heaven's sake.

Except maybe the cooking part.

Why? -Oh nothing.

I mean it's cool that you used to be a cook, and I ...

think it's great. But some of the guys say it's gay.

Cooking?

Cooking is gay?

Is eating gay? Is drinking gay?

Is digestion gay? Is sweating gay?

Are gays gay?

Gays are probably a little gay, aren't they?

Let me tell you something:

Without cooking there'd be no culture.

If man hadn't started cooking,

cave painting would never have developed ...

because we'd be out gathering all day.

Fruit, vegetables and that kind of thing.

Picasso, Van Gogh, all the bigwigs, we wouldn't have any of them.

Or if the Spanish kings hadn't been so keen on pepper steaks,

they wouldn't have sent Columbus in search of pepper.

No one would have discovered stupid America.

What? America is stupid?

Be serious.

Everyone eats hamburgers.

Everyone speaks English.

Everyone drinks Coke.

I hate English. It's not a civilized language, you follow?

See, Oskar, you got smarts.

That's what I mean, I wish I...

I wish I could expand my horizons, y'know,

with culture and all that.

First you have to find out who you are ...

and know what you like.

Well, I know what I like. I like...

I like... I like money,

I like nice threads, I like sex with a woman...

Sex with two women... Three women.

What about golf?

I know Papa had an agreement with your...

Security company. -Yes, your security company.

Since I've taken over, however,

there have been some changes.

Your wife?

Yes.

The neighborhood has changed quite a bit too.

To tell the truth, I don't think ...

we need coverage anymore.

Maybe we should simply cancel our agreement?

My thoughts exactly.

Yo Einstein,

is this a driver or a putter?

A driver.

Driver.

That's very expensive.

No agreement, no protection.

Yes, of course.

Are you crazy?

Say what, creep? What did he say?

Tell him to stop.

Please...

Please.

Golf is fun.

He's getting in touch with his inner self.

So you want to renew your contract?

Of course.

The premiums just went up ...

on account of the higher risk.

The cops are sticking like glue.

Why are we here? -Business.

I'll be right back.

Look,

the Japanese make these out of rice.

Incredible.

Out of rice and bamboo ...

they can make everything.

Even CD players.

What are you doing? -Tagging along.

Have coffee. -Don't want any.

Yeah but... -Been drinking coffee all day...

Do you have le manuscrit?.

My colleague and I are here about the premiums.

What premiums?

You're 3 months late.

The I'm-gonna-blow-your-head-off- if-you-don't-pay-the-premium premiums.

Those premiums.

Oh, those premiums.

Yes. Let's go to your nice, quiet backroom ...

and take care of business.

You wait here.

Nice shoes.

Our editor is sick. This way.

Stay here and make sure no one bursts in.

Sometimes young writers come in with their manuscripts.

Tell them you're the editor for bad literature.

He's cute.

And he smells so good. Does he work for your ...

stick-your-nose-in-our-business- and-we'll-break-it company?

Read it and decide here and now whether you want it.

On the spot? -Yes.

Here's our contract. Go ahead and flip through it quickly too.

Is the boss on the bridge?

Are you the new second mufti?

No, I'm the editor for bad literature.

What's up, Shakespeare? -I just wrote a cool book.

"Romeo and Juliet."

Italians?

You could say that.

Italians suck. The title sucks. And Shakespeare sounds English.

Extraordinary logic.

And what's more,

English sucks because it's not civilized.

Did they recruit him from the nuthouse?

What did you just say?

Maybe the boss is in... -No entry.

My God, this self-hate. What was your dissertation on?

Stop insulting me, man.

Jerking off as a publishing minion 'cause you couldn't make it as a poet.

I'm warning you.

All you pseudo-intellectuals want ...

is a hearth, savings bonds, golf on the weekend.

Not a trace of culture in you.

What makes you think golf isn't culture?

What makes you think it is?

Police. Help.

What's going on? -He wanted to palm off a book ...

about some stupid Italians, "Romeo and Juliet."

That already exists.

Swindler, palming off a published book on me.

Yeah. By William Shakespeare.

He's not Shakespeare? -Are you crazy?

You making a fool of me?

C'mon, let's go, bozo.

Think you can fuck with me?

Let's see you fuck with me.

Hello, Oskar.

Aha, hard at work, are we?

Please read this.

Good-bye.

What did they want from you?

How much protection money are you paying?

Where'd you get that?

Boroschnin works for Daschajew - the Godfather of Vienna. That's where.

I know Oskar privately - my best friend's lover.

Congratulations to her.

What's the thug doing here?

He applied for a position as an editor.

Editor?

He can't even write his own name.

An editor just needs to be able to read.

What about all those rejection letters?

Form letters, you simply sign them.

I see. With XXX.

What are you driving at? -What I'm driving at?

You're bullshitting me, I want to know what's going on.

Satisfied?

If you'll excuse me, I have to get back to work.

See you later, honey.

Open that, now.

You'll never learn, Nowak.

I have no idea what you've got up your sleeve, but whatever it is,

I'm going to be breathing down your neck.

A good feeling. -For me too.

If you slip up ever so slightly, I'll have you by the balls.

I'm sure that'll feel good too.

Everybody out. -I just have to finish this...

Get out.

We're almost done with all we can do today.

Splendid.

How's my foster son?

Not bad.

A little impulsive, but so were we at his age.

Show me the scar.

You took my bullet.

You bled like a pig.

Jelena never left your side.

You saved my life.

And I'd do it again every time.

Really?

Is something wrong?

Do you want to tell me something?

I'd appreciate it if ...

someone else could take care of Leo.

The police is on my tail and Leo is expecting me.

Is that all?

Can't you sleep?

If someone follows you during the next few days ...

or if you notice anything unusual,

let me know.

Try to get some sleep.

We've almost made it.

I've got the tickets already.

Through the five hole...

We're in for a great funeral today.

I'm really sorry about yesterday.

It's OK. -I was a totaljerk, I apologize.

How'd you dump the publisher cunt?

I didn't. I brought her. -What?

But you don't kill women?

Here?

She wanted to see how we bury our dead?

We had a great night, and she ...

read me stuff by the real Willi Shakespeare.

With rhymes and all that.

Did the publishing cunt...

Her name's Diana.

Did she talk about me and certain projects?

What projects?

Forget it.

I hear you chauffeured my wife yesterday.

My condolences, Leo.

You should have called, Oskar.

The line was busy, Leo.

I love you, Oskar.

I love you too, Leo.

Take me with you when you snuff that creep.

Soon enough we'll be paying our last respects to our dear friend Leo.

And then I'll nab our chef de cuisine ...

and take him to a place where there are no tailored suits or sunbeds.

It's not that he shot me in the foot, no.

I've got no problem with that. Anyone can shoot me in the foot.

But he was arrogant and snooty about it and ...

no one shoots me in the foot like that.

Look at that, now he's got 8 bodyguards.

He gets 2 more for Christmas every year.

Wow.

On 15m2, 1OOO years federal penitentiary.

I'd like to thank our Oskar for this buffet.

Bon app�tit.

Let's go over here.

What do you say?

Dry,

mild finish.

Fantastic.

Chateau Palmier,

1975.

Some things must always remain intact.

Loyalty and trust.

You must punish Leo.

Your wish is my command.

I'm not commanding you, Oskar,

I'm giving you permission.

Thank you, Konstantin.

I didn't say you could go.

You're so withdrawn.

You don't come around much anymore.

I've been told you have a girlfriend,

a shrink you met in prison.

What's special about her kind.

When everything's been taken care of,

you're free to go.

When it's over, you'll have my blessings ...

to do with your life as you please.

And this is what he'll do with your nose.

I like my nose.

He'll inject something in your cheeks,

fiddle behind your ears, and no one will recognize you anymore.

As ordinary-looking as a vacuum cleaner salesman.

How lovely.

We'll develop a brand-new feel for each other.

Konstantin made me an offer...

If I take on another job...

You're not taking on any jobs.

But if I do,

I can do what I want with my life.

I'll hear nothing of it.

We won't have to go into hiding forever,

and I won't have to let them carve up my face.

You're considering murder, is that it?

Don't get emotional.

Oh no.

Calm down. -No. You're having one of your attacks.

You're having one.

I love an executioner.

Please, must you always be so dramatic?

I never want to eat your cooking,

food cooked by executioner's hands.

Cooking is your emotional makeup.

Just camouflage.

You've got no sense of morals ...

and a deep-seated desire to suck his penis.

Lambkin, what's this talk of a penis?

Forget it. I'm so disappointed,

I'm so disappointed.

Honey bun. We're talking about scum, trash.

Leo is a plague.

No violence, Oskar. No violence.

Or I'm leaving forever.

What's that?

What is it?

I tried...

I thought it might be...

What is it? -A poem.

Read it.

I can't, I'm not good at reading aloud.

Read.

I love your breasts and I love you,

I wouldn't kill you if they told me to.

That's terrific.

Yeah, it was supposed to... That's how it starts...

It's terrific.

Really?

What's this?

You're aiming at my head.

It's a Smith and Wesson. 64O Centennial,

.357 magnum, 5-shot,

stainless steel frame, 326 mm long,

barrel length 54 mm, weight 645 g.

I call it Ben.

It's yours.

What an absolutely personal present.

I used it on the Rimko brothers in '98.

2 shots right in the forehead. In their coffins they looked ...

like Hindus with that dot here.

How do you shoot someone in the forehead?

It's easy.

You aim, think: "fuck it," and fire.

Fuck it.

No. A little more attitude,

more conviction: fuck it.

Fuck it.

Can I stay for a few days?

What in the world...

Nothing stronger?

Finger nail remover ...

and the stuff I clean the WC with.

Then I'll take the stuff you clean the WC with.

Do you know that Oskar...

Don't talk about Oskar.

I want to talk about Oskar, I came to talk about Oskar.

How loudly?

How loud does the stuff you clean the WC with make you?

His colleague is in my bedroom.

What?

Oskar's colleague. In my bedroom.

Naked.

Here, put on my robe, you're all wet.

That means: you fuck a killer?

That means: lower your voice.

I thought I fucked a killer, but you fuck a killer too.

You know how fucked up it is to fuck a killer?

I'll go get the stuff I clean the WC with.

Killers usually kill people, do you realize that?

We should be more tolerant about our partner's faults.

Then bring the toilet bowl along with the cleaner, I need to puke.

What's this?

Ben.

Ben, meet Maria.

Drop the sarcasm.

My God, you can tell what it is.

Have you all gone mad?

Stupid assassin in the bedroom, come out.

I won't let this person be killed. I'll prevent it.

You're aiming at my head.

Where do I find Oskar's victim?

Leo Kuschnik, Steubenstrasse 17, 4th district.

This is my best friend, Maria.

Maria, this is Valentin, the most gentle man in the world.

Lower that thing.

Dead cow with toadstools.

Beef-rabbit in beer sauce.

Once he goes in there, it's ages before he comes back out again.

Go ahead and call it a day.

Aren't you eating anything?

Table 4, hurry.

In September '75 Tommy Navarik,

who was in charge of the dirtiest work back then,

shot 2 men in a joint behind the Vienna West Train Station.

When I got there to straighten things out,

I found Tommy under the kitchen stove.

A bullet had torn up his guts.

He didn't want a doctor but an omelette chauv�e.

Standing in the puddle of his blood I began to cook.

I told him everything would be OK,

and he told me that he was looking forward to the meal,

though he knew his stomach was nothing but a big, bloody hole.

I dedicate this book to the memory of Tommy Navarik,

my best friend,

and reveal all the secrets...

Well?

Reveal all the secrets we shared ...

until the day he died ...

amidst the scent of mint and cravattage.

Where's the rest?

Probably at the publishers.

Which publishers?

Sounds like a kind of cheese, something with G...

Yeah. I'll talk to them. We collect there anyway.

They're not one of our clients.

What? -Or are they?

Hold on, sure they are...

Oskar collects from them. I was there.

He's running his own racket?

It's me. Are you alone?

Yes.

Can you come by.?

Do you have time?

Can I drop by?

Yeah sure, no problem. I'm on my way.

Stay on him.

I want this book.

With the words.

I just thought of something.

Oskar Boroschnin has a girlfriend.

A girlfriend?

A while already. Some shrink bitch from jail.

Tyson, get off your fat ass and go ...

find Oskar's whore and bring her here.

Alive?

What? Alive? Of course alive.

Do you think I want to run this joint with dead whores,

you moron?

Sorry.

Screw you, Tyson.

You don't look too hot.

Have a seat.

I've got problems.

Oh yeah?

With my girlfriend.

Me too.

With Diana?

Why?

Because of a book.

And how are you solving your problem?

I gave her a fat lip.

And you?

Maria found out about the job.

She's not happy.

You gotta help me.

I have to talk to Leo. -Why you wanna talk to him?

Before Maria talks to him.

Why would she want to talk to him?

She thinks you can talk to everyone about everything.

Believe it or not, we were just talking about you.

My boyfriend wants to kill you.

That's awful. -Yes.

He'd be mad if he knew I was here.

But in this inflexible patriarchal system ...

someone has to take the initiative. -I understand.

I'm opening my heart to you and I hope we can be frank with each other.

Openness and trust will lead to the root of the conflict.

The root of the conflict. The root of the conflict is ...

that Oskar is a fucking asshole,

and I'd like to rip off his balls ...

and feed 'em to these dogs.

That's the root of the conflict.

Then why don't we start with a breathing exercise?

With a what? Breathing exercise?

Lots of perverts and schizophrenics...

Watch it. Watch it. No, no.

A breathing exercise,

it'll relax us and make us feel good so we can define ourselves.

May I? -Sure.

Breathing is the key to freedom. -I know.

Exhaling is letting go, is surrender.

Inhaling is taking in new, fresh life energy.

Strength, fullness, richness.

Listen you sadistic pervert. Oskar wants to talk to you.

I don't hold much stock in talking,

but I'm telling you when and where.

And he says don't worry ...

your ass ain't grass - as far as he's concerned.

And what is the venue of his preference?

Who was Tommy Navarik?

I mean I've heard so much about what happened.

Did Leo double-cross him? Was it Leo's fault he died?

Why don't you talk?

I don't feel like it.

You don't feel like talking to me?

No. -But you're talking to Leo?

That's different. -Why? Because he's a rat?

Do you only talk to traitors? -Calm down, OK.

I've never squealed on anyone, have you?

Easy, OK.

Maybe he's some kind of ...

basis for an intelligent conversation.

You've got a subject...

That's enough.

So you wanna shoot me?

I just don't wanna talk.

You won't talk to me, but you'll shoot.

You won't shoot Leo, but you'll talk.

Shoot him and talk to me, instead of vice versa.

Shut the fuck up.

You know what?

In the end no one's going to talk to you they'lljust shoot you.

Can I trust you?

Konstantin wants me to take you off the map.

I'll miss me.

Listen up.

First: you leave town.

Second:

you've got 2 days.

Third: the official story is ...

I threw you into the sewer.

And fourth:

you never show your face here again.

I don't know if I like all that.

If I ever hear about you again...

You'll blow me to smithereens, I know.

Don't move your hands.

I haven't forgotten Tommy.

Jelena kept you from harm, but your time's up.

Don't move.

Be glad the others aren't here.

You're damn lucky.

I know, Oskar, I know.

Do what I say, you hear?

Get out of town. You hear me?

Stop it or else...

Lower the gun, man.

No.

You were always such a sophisticated speaker.

As for me,

I'm different.

I'm more the brute.

Look, Oskar.

I wanted to tell her she was pretty,

and suddenly her nose was broken.

You're dead, Leo.

Let's summarize the plan:

first:

you get the hell out of town.

Second:

you've got 2 days.

Third:

the story is I threw you into the sewer.

And fourth:

you never show your face here again.

You're driving too fast.

Why did you ask if you could trust me?

Slow down.

Oskar, the whole family thinks you're a traitor.

And I'm starting to think so myself.

My dear friend, how are you?

It's the shock.

Push up his pillow.

You have disappointed me greatly.

How long have you been running your own racket?

What were you thinking?

It's not what you think it is.

No, of course not. I know that.

I trust you, Oskar.

That's why I'm surprised you didn't do as I asked ...

by putting a painful and early end to Leo's life.

I wanted to.

Yesterday?

It's a long story, Konstantin.

Did you write it down, this long story?

I'm so curious about this wonderful book of yours.

What's it called, Valentin? -Secrets.

Secrets not Secrets, Valentin.

What did he say?

He said it's a cookbook.

You may go ahead of us, Oskar,

go and join our Jelena.

Take care of it. And then deal with the publishers.

This book must not be published.

It's a cookbook.

Bullshit.

What else can I write besides a cookbook?

They're recipes.

Exceptional recipes ...

by exceptional men. A gangster cookbook.

Bullshit. How dumb do you think I am?

C'mon, blow him away.

Shut up.

Or should we shoot him in the foot? -Shut up.

Bring me a bagel, I'm hungry.

The last request of a dying man.

Get him his bagel. -Be serious.

I said go get him his fucking bagel.

You Russians are an unprofessional bunch of amateurs.

I'm not kidding.

Imagine you kill me,

thinking I betrayed someone with my book,

and later it turns out it's about Belgian carrots.

How will you feel?

But it ain't no God-damned cookbook.

How do you know?

How I know? "I dedicate this book to Tommy Navarik,

and reveal all the secrets," etc. etc., huh?

Tommy, Paul, and I were gourmets.

The secrets I reveal are about baking and cooking times.

Go see your publisher cunt,

have her show you my book,

and see whether or not I'm lying.

I can't save your ass, Oskar.

Then Maria's a goner,

I'm worm food, and your publisher cunt is dead too.

I'm so glad you came.

I can't reach my friend and ...

I desperately need someone to talk to.

There's something harmless,

passive, pansy-like about you...

That makes a woman feel comfortable from the start.

Did you fall down?

Remember the young man who was here yesterday?

The editor who can't read?

He beat me up last night.

It's a cruel world.

Why did the mean editor beat you up?

He found Oskar Boroschnin's book at my place.

Actually it was just a dummy.

Oskar wrote a book?

Yes.

You're publishing that nutcase?

Yes. It's still strictly confidential.

But you can tell me because I'm ...

such a passive pansy?

That's right.

Actually I called you because I'm worried about Maria.

Who?

Alright folks...

Dude?

Fuck. This is fucked up.

This is so fucking fucked up.

He's gonna string me up by the balls. Just what I needed.

I'll cover it up, no one will know. Cover...

I wasn't here...

Screws...

Screwdriver...

Terrific.Just what I needed...

Are you mental, or something?

Dude, you...

You're mental. If you could see yourself...

You look like a corpse.

Can't you even ask? Like: "Are you a corpse?"

I got a different question: What happened?

We traded recipes.

Oh yeah?

You're into cooking now too?

You are such a mental case. No.

He knocked me out. Thumped me on the head, here.

That'll be some bump.

I'll tell you one thing.

The next person who sends me for a bagel,

I'm blowing his brains out.

Let's go get that stupid book.

People run around like idiots,

dashing to the office,

rushing off on vacation,

and ruining their health.

They drive themselves crazy,

and all for nothing.

Torture is the only thing ...

we have time ...

and leisure for.

Oops, the cops.

You'll do yourself and Oskar a big favor by keeping real quiet.

Let them in.

You look surprisingly well.

I feel great, Inspector.

I'm doing my breathing exercises...

That's good because Oskar is bound to show up any time.

I beg your pardon, who?

Do you know his girlfriend? -No.

Should I?

She disappeared without a trace.

She's not here by any chance?

No, no girlfriend here. None at all.

If you don't believe me, have a look around,

that is provided you have a wee little search warrant.

Can I ask you a small favor?

Oskar's mine, remember that.

Howdy.

Diana, wait a second.

Diana, wait.

I'm sorry. -Get lost.

I'm sorry.

I don't want to see you.

I'm sorry, I...

I brought you some coffee.

What do I do with it?

Drink it, it'll calm...

Got a straw? -What?

Can't drink otherwise.

Coffee tastes lousy through a straw.

And it won't calm me down burning my ...

mouth with a straw because you broke my jaw.

It doesn't look that bad. Does it?

I've seen worse.

You think I'll drop the charges for a lousy cup of coffee,

with no sugar, no milk, no straw...

What charges?

Sorry to interrupt, but shouldn't we just swipe the book?

No one's swiping any books around here.

Of course not, Diana.

I just wanted...

Dude, we're not here to talk.

Could you please shut up for one second?

And I thought you came to apologize.

I thought if this baboon had a trace of decency, he'd grovel ...

on his knees for forgiveness.

That's exactly what I'm doing, baby.

Don't make a fool out of yourself for that bitch.

I suggest I slap her mug ...

and we split with the book.

What did he say?

Just ignore him, OK.

You keep your trap shut, OK?

Or you won't need a toothbrush anymore.

Know not that consummation is death & birth ...

and you are but a gloomy guest on this dark earth.

Whoa, that's the last straw.

She threatened me, what do we do with her?

That was Goethe, you ignoramus.

Yeah, that was Goethe, you ignoramus.

I know who Goethe is.

You sure don't look it.

How would you know?

Because I've seen enough people who look it, that's how.

Oh yeah, you think you know everything huh?

Mr. Intellectual now...

Not everyone knows who Goethe is. -Well, I do.

If anyone says another word,

he'll pay the consequences.

'Cause I'm fucking fed up to my eye balls.

Princess, let me tell you something...

Fuck it.

I don't know if these breathing exercises are really healthy.

I hope she's alright.

Yes, wonderful.

We're doing breathing exercises together.

You want to talk to her?

Get me out of here.

They're crazy.

Well?

What else do you want?

Let's say one million.

I'll get you your million.

I'd be quick if I were you.

I don't know how long she's gonna last.

Hello, Marcello.

Where do you buy your suits?

At a second hand shop?

Konstantin sent me. -Have a seat.

I'd rather stand.

Don't make me laugh.

One million euros? You must be kidding.

I'm dead serious.

I like that.

I gotta make a call.

You're not calling anyone.

You got an ax?

Chainsaw?

I know: acid.

Acid?

You must have acid.

Publishing houses need acid.

These won't work.

What if we leave him whole and tell the cops it was an accident?

I can't even tell my own people.

If they find out I let Oskar go, you shot ...

Belmondo with my gun, and then I even brought you coffee...

My uncle's gonna be upset.

Who's your uncle?

The one who always wins in the end.

What do we do now?

First let's get him out of here.

Oskar, how's it going.? It's Valentin.

I've got a problem at the publishers.

What kind of problem?

Can't talk on the phone, you gotta come, now.

Well? Was I lying?

Oh yeah, I forgot to ask.

About the cookbook.

Well? Is it? -Of course.

Alright.

You wanna see it? -No.

You believe me? -Yeah.

Hold on.

You betrayed me because you didn't believe me,

put me in a coffin because you didn't believe me,

almost killed me because you didn't believe me.

And now you believe me? You're crazy.

Maybe, Oskar, but I figure...

Where's my manuscript?

In the cabinet.

What's that?

Oh terrific.

How much?

Mr. Daschajew I swear, that's the whole truth.

One million exactly.

But it was our Oskar.

Here's the receipt.

Oskar signed it personally.

I want every dog cage, every X-rated theater,

and every restaurant in this city ...

searched for Oskar.

Bring me his book.

And find out where my foster son is.

And above all, find my money.

You really stole Konstantin's money?

And you shot his watchdog. So calm down.

What do we do now?

Lunch break is almost over.

Maybe we should get rid of your colleague.

Hey.

Wait till you see this.

He's a genius.

A genius.

Look at this.

If you're publishing Oskar's book, then check this out.

"Experiences and Observations of a Police Officer."

On Duty and in the World at Large." Wow.

Fascinating.

See, all written in Klein's own hand.

A day-by-day account.

For years I've wondered what this lethargic,

boring, unresponsive ass is always ...

writing in that notebook of his.

And today I happened to flip through it and... Wow.

Brilliant. He's a second...

A second, uh... He's a first!

Are there more? -Hundreds.

This one focuses on the family.

Thoughts about the wife, kid, building a house, etc.

It's all recorded here ...

in this book.

That's terrific.

We have to get together and make a selection.

Bring everything by tomorrow, OK?

I'll bring it by now. Be back in a flash.

I won't be in the office.

Don't worry, I'll find you.

Oskar, darling...

Mission accomplished.

Good boy. Where's the money?

I have it on me. What about Maria.?

Work first, then play.

At Paul's. Come in the back.

Two left inside.

Gentlemen, wait here, it might take a while.

It's a reunion of old friends.

Hi Leo,

long time no see.

The gang's all here.

Except for Tommy.

Yeah, except for Tommy.

Tommy was an imbecile.

But he was my friend.

Must I go down before you on bended knee?

Oskar, where's my money?

Where's Maria?

A phone call from me ...

and Tyson will snuff her.

Before we say good-bye forever...

Oskar, you're not getting sentimental on me.

...I'd like to know ...

why you betrayed Tommy.

Was it the money? -No.

I couldn't stand his stupid sauces anymore,

and his mumbo jumbo about chateaubriand ...

and escargot, he was a silly food fag.

It'll all be over soon.

Dinner's ready.

See ya, Oskar. It was nice chatting with you.

Dinner's ready.

Aha, whatcha havin'?

You.

No, I mean what's for dinner?

You heard right.

You.

Me.

Where were you?

There, there.

Everything's going to be alright, angel. There, there.

What's that?

What is that?

Don't move. Asshole.

Leo Wellington.

We don't spit in our food.

In he goes.

How much longer?

A few minutes.

That's all?

Otherwise he'll die.

You mean we're not eating him?

Are you joking?

Is this just a big show?

What were you expecting?

Night of the Cannibals?

Maria stop this nonsense.

I'm staying here till he's done.

What's gotten into you?

I want to eat him.

You can't eat Leo. -With a good Bordeaux.

Open up.

The pastry is already golden and flaky.

Didn't I say I'd find you?

Forget everything you've ever read.

Klein has written yet another book.

And this book is about...

Give here.

It's about - this will interest you too,

Mr. Editor,

a book ...

about the Mafia.

What's the meaning of this?

If you take him out now, it's over between us.

What?

Yes, over.

Shall we try a breathing exercise?

Daschajew, the Godfather of Vienna.

The chains of command, internal structures.

A list of missing persons,

it's all there. Here.

That's great.

I'll read it first thing.

Those charges for grievous bodily injury,

should we just drop them?

I'll never do another breathing exercise again.

And neither will you.

No violence, Maria.

Stop quoting me all the time.

You're dead.

People like him never change.

Honey.

If we wait any longer, he'll change tremendously.

He'll die.

I want to eat him cooked to a crisp.

I want to turn something bad into something good:

beautiful, brown shit.

Weren't you going to bring me Oskar's book?

The book, the book... Yeah.

Of course. But Uncle, forget the book.

It's a cookbook, all about ...

pudding and stuff.

What's that?

See, everything's swell.

No problem. Here's Leo.

Oskar made a pie out of him.

Is that true?

Yes Konstantin.

I want to eat him.

Let her, maybe someone else wants some...

"The Godfather of Vienna.

A Study of the Criminal Dealings ...

of Konstantin Daschajew.

With a Complete List of Missing Persons."

Pudding and stuff?

That's not Oskar's book.

Then who wrote it?

Me.

You talk too much.

Hold on.

What are you doing, Oskar?

Damn it, Oskar, hurry up will you.

Oskar, what are you doing, man?

We gotta get out of here.

This isn't a good idea.

I'm not ready for a steady relationship.

C'mon, damn it. Hurry up.

...and everyone lived happily ever after.

I'm sick of your bullshit,

you've had 2 months to pay... -I'll never pay.