Original subtitles

Love stories are private planets.

They evaporate when their inhabitants leave.

They obey laws unknown to the rest of the universe.

Unknown even to those who inhabit them.

Can you find my passport?

- Where're you going? - To Australia.

- What happened? - I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know.

We're judged after laws that weren't ours at the time they were made.

You met him one spring evening.

You became his mistress.

He wanted to marry you.

He didn't keep his promise.

Mademoiselle, you're expected.

It's all the way up the stairs.

Come closer.

Turn around.

What you want from me?

Do you want my cock?

That's it, huh?

No. You want money?

What an irresistible smell.

What do you want?

Do you want my money?

You want my skin?

Come.

What do you want?

You want my skin, bitch.

Come on, hit me.

Again, c'mon.

C'mon.

Good evening.

Good evening.

Take off your shirt.

Hurry up.

Turn around.

Get on your knees.

Hit me.

- What? - Hit me.

- Hit me. - What?

- Is that what you want? - Yes, yes.

Say it!

More.

Yes.

- Is this what you want? - Hit me.

Stop to feed him. You'll spoil him.

Funny you say that.

"Silence means consent." Isn't it so?

I'm not your father, don't be silly.

Be a man and do it.

That's it?

Look at me.

This shithead lets me wait.

My asshole father did that too.

You won't live so far away without a reason.

You must be crazy to live here.

Didn't you want to ask me something important?

If I had known,

I'd have brought some films for fun.

Mademoiselle.

Will you dine with us?

No, thank you.

Who is this whore?

Where did you find her?

She's not a whore.

She left?

D'you think she loves you?

Why d'you think she's with you?

She just wants your bucks.

You'll have to pay her.

She's a whore.

You know that.

You fall for whores.

Well. What can I do for you?

Renew my gun licence.

May I?

Come.

Tell me...

Tell me...

Will you kill me if I ask you to?

Will you cut my throat?

Cut off my head?

Come.

Come.

Come.

Tell me.

Tell me.

Tell me.

Will you kill me?

I'll kill you.

Will you cut my throat?

I'll cut your throat.

Will you cut off my head?

I'll cut off your head.

I belong to you.

Do you know it?

Have you been on vacation?

No.

Did you like Australia?

I had no time to look around.

This is for you.

Like them?

Yes.

And this...

This is for me.

A Smith & Wesson 2''.

A true marvel.

Come.

No one has ever come here.

I'll kill 20,000 people.

Provided I aim good enough.

I'll keep this one.

It's so handy.

In the drawer of my bedside table.

Take it.

Do you feel how cold it is?

This was perfect.

Reload it. Reload it like I showed you.

I'm here.

Continue.

C'mon, go on.

- No. - Yes.

No.

C'mon, aim!

Aim, c'mon now.

- Come on. - I can't.

It contains blanks, I'm not crazy.

Go ahead.

You can do it.

Show me, c'mon.

It's easy, take it.

Aim at me. Aim.

C'mon.

Do it.

Fire.

Fire!

I can't.

Fire.

Take it up again!

Take it back!

Take it back, bitch! Take it back!

Take it back.

Take it back!

Stop looking at me like that.

It's hot.

Yeah.

Is this her?

You stay there for good?

Have a seat.

Sit down.

You want a drink?

No, thank you.

I've booked a room.

Which hotel?

A hourly hotel.

- What d'you wanna do? - What one does

with three whores in a hourly hotel?

Aren't you used to it?

They're not evil, they're nice like you.

A slap from time to time.

Nothing too serious.

What's up?

You're sulking?

The guy has taken the whole storey.

That's real power.

I'll need a cop at my door.

- Why? - One day, they'll pester me.

Who?

Well dude,

still as paranoid?

In my office, we'll be in peace.

I'll give you money.

One million.

And then I'll marry you.

It is a token of love.

I promise.

Why do you do it?

Because I love you.

Don't you believe me?

One million dollars. It's a nice sum.

Obviously... you can do many things with a million, right?

Wait.

I promise.

I promise.

Trust me.

Look at me.

I belong to you.

You know that?

Your first name?

Are you a cop or something?

Do I look like a cop?

No.

That reassures me.

Well, your name?

Betty.

It's pretty.

It sounds like a kiss.

It's a whore's name.

May I introduce my shrink.

Can you tell me what you think about the future...

of us as a couple. If it's worth it.

Worth what?

To marry.

Tell me.

- I'm not clairvoyant. - You know psychology.

For 180 � Euro per session,

you could do something useful.

Ask her questions. What ever...

C'mon. Do your job.

Ask her questions.

No, wait.

A Tournedos for Monsieur.

A grilled salmon without B�arnaise and a Tartare.

Two salads without dressing.

No fries with the meals.

Very well, Monsieur. No entries?

No.

We'll take a bottle of wine, and a diet coke.

- We have a Brouilly. - Whatever, I don't drink wine.

Well, c'mon. Ask her questions.

- You still order the dishes for other people. - Yes.

Who cares.

Ask her questions.

- Then she should come to my office. - Obey.

Go ahead.

Yes, take your little book.

Tell me your story.

I have none.

But... everyone has a story.

Didn't your father abuse you?

It must have been traumatic,

right?

Tell Monsieur.

- I have nothing to say. - Talk now!

Calm down.

Don't tell me to calm down. Is that clear?

Don't tell me that.

Let's go, you'll do it in your office.

Don't try to pump her for fees, understood?

Come on.

Asshole of a shrink...

Charlatan.

You ask a service... and get bullshit!

Fucking shrink.

Rascal.

Not here, sweetheart.

What's going on?

Don't you answer?

Beware of this man, he's unpredictable.

"Unpredictable"?

You have no idea.

I can't fight the unavoidable.

Do you like him?

You don't understand.

Obviously.

If I accept this situation, it's my problem, not yours.

Sorry.

Why're you doing this to me?

What do you want? Money? I have plenty.

You want my money, huh, right?

My money interests you, huh?

It's my money.

- Who's talking about money? - I'll give you money.

I'll give you what you want.

I don't care about your money!

I don't care!

Hit me.

Hit me, hit me.

Please.

Go ahead.

It's alright.

- It's alright. - Shut up.

- When will you go to New York? - Soon.

For how long?

I dunno.

Will you miss me?

- Are you out of form? - I'm tired.

Enjoy your holidays.

What?

- We can't continue like this. - Maybe.

What do you think?

Do you really think I wanna marry you?

Can you imagine the headlines?

"The Black Prince of Finance, the 38th richest Frenchman, marries

a poor girl who serves him as his sex toy."

And your husband?

- Thought about him? - You know we're not married.

I won't give one million just for your beautiful eyes.

We should stop it.

Agreed.

We'll see when you get back.

It's over.

No problem.

You're a whore.

Girls like you are easy to find.

Put the keys on the nightstand.

Do what I tell you.

Can I sit beside you?

Of course.

I know you're there!

Show yourself!

I know you're there,

in your crappy house, watching TV from your couch.

Show yourself!

Your tiny prick curled in your little panties.

Do you have balls to open the door?

Open the door!

Don't open.

Open the door!

Open up or I smash your fucking old door!

Open!

I want to talk to her.

Where's she?

- I want to talk to her. - She's not here.

- Tell me where that bitch is hiding. - Don't insult my wife.

Your wife?

Your wife?

You're not fucking married. She is just a whore!

She isn't anyone's.

She's a whore.

Look at yourself.

You look like my father.

You know what I did with him? I killed him.

Can you hear me? I killed him.

I could kill you too.

It disgusts me what you do together.

I could kill you.

Why don't you say anything?

Huh?

Are you sick?

You're going to die, that's it?

You're going to die.

Let me talk to her, please.

My money interests her.

It drives me crazy.

Don't touch me.

You're wrong.

- You want a glass of water? - No, thank you.

- Champagne? - No.

My name is not Betty.

I suspected that.

Are you married?

I failed.

Me too.

Really?

What happened?

Nothing.

That's life.

Where's the Champagne?

- You drank it last night. - You should buy more.

You know I don't support it.

Calm down.

I never touched his fucking million.

I don't want to use that money.

That money, it was sacred.

- What are you talking about? - I'd returned it.

Calm down, sweetheart.

I'll tell him it's over.

Good evening.

Good evening.

Stop the Champagne and the Valium.

Looks like a disorder.

And it's not good.

What was he like?

Tell me.

"My poor Muse, what ails you this morning?"

"Your hollow eyes are full of nocturnal visions;"

"I see in turn reflected on your face."

"Madness and horror cold and taciturn."

Beautiful, huh?

I know you don't like my silly poems.

What is happening, my little muse?

Tell me.

- You despise me. - No.

No, I don't believe you.

A plate of Foie Gras and two Chateaubriand.

How do you like it?

That's is a good question.

Blue... blue.

Bitches love raw meat, right?

Blue.

Are you crying?

I love to see you cry.

I feel God inflicts crying.

Me too, I despise you.

You're despicable.

Because you're hard with the weak and weak with the hard ones.

I despise you.

You're poor, pitiful.

You're a liar.

You hate to lose, so you have to pay.

You're a shit.

You're a poor little shit.

Give me the promised money.

- No. - Si.

Tomorrow, 11am, in front of your bank.

You'll go to the counter and unlock your account.

You'll take out my million in cash.

We'll go into the toilet, I'll take over the money

and I'll make you eat the bundles.

I'll take them and use them

to clean your flowing saliva

while I jerk you off with my hand.

You'll shamefully enjoy it.

And your cum will flow like snot

out from your little prick.

Tomorrow morning.

11am.

Be in time.

Go.

"Ladies and gentlemen, keep your seat belt fastened"

"After the plane has stopped completely open the luggage racks carefully..."

Are you expected to arrive?

Yes.

Then all is well.

I waited for you yesterday, in the bank.

Really?

- I knew you wouldn't come. - Really?

You never keep your promises.

What promises?

What are you doing?

Come.

This is it?

It's decided, my old.

Come with me.

Come.

This yours?

Yes.

Goodbye.

Sit.

One million is quite much for a whore.

A little whore who dislikes money.

Come on, go ahead, shoot.

Subtitles: TheHugeAnimalFromTheNorth