All language subtitles for The Tender Hook-2008

You made me a promise.

That didn't include
having my nose rubbed in it.

And you're not off the hook.

You think I sold out,
don't you?

What the hell
are you two doing?

In the words
of bill Shakespeare,

all the world's a stage

and all the men and women
merely players.

They have their entrances

and their exits.

Wonderful.

Bloody terrific performance,
Mac.

Oh, not bad for an amateur,
was it?

What did our new boy think?

Very good.

You know,
almost professional standard.

Well, thank you, tchaikovsky.

The subjects may have played
a few dumb notes, that's all.

Who, exactly?

- The trumpet.
- The bass.

The drummer.

The drummer?

The drummer.

He missed a few beats.
That's all.

It's called syncopation.

Well, there you go.

Shows how much we know,
doesn't it?

Thud!

He's bolshie, isn't he?

He's a boxer.

He's supposed to be.

"The final bout of the evening

"is a 15-rounder between
Mike Flynn and Art Walker.

"Mike Flynn is a former
new south wales champion.

"Art Walker is an experienced
preliminary fighter,

and tonight
marks his main event debut."

Smack!

Thud!

Thud!

Four, five,

six,

seven,

eight...

Ronnie, do you know him?

Kind of.

Served with his brother Charlie.

What was the charge?

Not in jail,
in the war.

Charlie was decorated.

His footwork's
letting him down.

Send him to Arthur.

Who's Arthur?

Arthur Murray dance school.

What do you think of him?

No killer instinct.

Well, he won, didn't he?

He won.

Isn't that enough?

Tell them I'm getting changed,
then I'll be in the car.

Hello, iris.

Wrong door, Hackett.

I know
it was an unwise transaction,

but he never exactly asked
where the beer was made.

I stuck my neck out for you

because you said
you needed the passage home.

You're still here.

It's not right.

He's making me pay him back
with interest,

and he gets to keep
the merchandise.

I don't get involved
in his business affairs.

On the house.

Your father
drove a hard bargain.

But he never cheated anyone.

My father's dead.

Leave him out of it.

I saw your fight.

I saw you.

You're bleeding.

Kiss it better.

Youare bolshie.

Why didn't you finish him off?

He was already going down.

Shame.

You could have scored
a knockout.

I just sent him
to keep an eye on you.

Where's the harm in that?

I'm not a child.

So I'm overprotective.

No, overpossessive.

The chain's too tight.

Ah, the moon's too bright.

Who's chained to whom exactly,
sweetheart?

I'm h.D. McHeath.

Art Walker.

Let me drive you home.

Art, this is iris.

Iris.

Pleased to meet you, Art.

You know what?

I think I'll ride up front.

Okay.

She's quite a catch, isn't she?

I just met her.

Take my word for it.

Where do you live?

Ronnie knows the house.

Would you take a drink?

Been known to.

I enjoyed your performance.

It was a fight.

And a good fight has all
the elements of great theater.

I wouldn't know about that.

No, of course you wouldn't.

You're into per diem.

You know, this colony's
chock-a-block full of punters,

crowds, spectators,

but try finding
a discerning bloody audience.

Still, if you can't beat 'em...

I enjoy a stoush
as much as the next person,

but if you reckon
that the empire's a goner

and that this new Republic
is a dead cert,

now...

Why does it have to be bloody?

Why not just sit back
and wait for the funeral?

Because this would make you
a passive radical.

Jesus h.

Wouldn't want one of those
in your corner,

would you, Daisy?

A posse of radicals orthodox
or southpaw?

Are you ambidextrous, Daisy?

Hmm.

I hear your brother's
a war hero.

Was he there tonight?

Charlie doesn't get out much.

He won it at the somme.

Ah, a military medal.

That's quite a weight, isn't it?

He taught me how to fight.

Good for him.

He fought in the war,
and now ten years on,

you have to struggle
in the peace.

I'm doing all right.

Sure, you are.

What do you know
about Alby O'Shea?

He hails from Brisbane.

Good middleweight.

Needs a new sparring partner.

I'll pay you £5 a week
starting tomorrow.

Tomorrow's Sunday.

So?

Art!

This is Alby,
aka othello O'Shea.

Alby, this is Art Walker,
your new sparring partner.

Who's the best trainer in town?

Greyhound Eddie's good.

I don't think he's available.

Greyhound Eddie it is.

Do you think
he knows what he's doing?

Where else
do you get paid to train?

You staying at the house?

No.

Free board, separate entrance,
come and go as you please?

Sounds too good to be true.

Where'd you get that?

From my bag of tricks.

Does iris come around much?

Sometimes,

her and Daisy.

She'll be way
out of your reach, bud.

My reach is good.

That's nothing.

One, two, three, four.

One, two, three, four.

That's it.
You're getting it.

If you had to choose,
who would you hook up with?

The communist
or the monarchist?

Mm...

Can I say neither?

No.

All right, I'd pick the one
with the best prospects.

How can you tell?

You can't.

Better make it a troika.

What's a troika?

It's Russian for threesome.

Iris, where are your morals?

Hackett likes to gamble
with them little tiles.

Mah-jongg?

Anyway, since iris
knew Hackett back in broome,

Mac goes against
his better judgment

and agrees to fence
the whole lot.

Course, when it gets delivered,

it turns out
it's this jap brand.

Hey.

Got it.

Oh, bugger!

So McHeath couldn't sell it?

Who in their right mind
is gonna buy Japanese beer?

Upshot is, the beer's
wasting away in Mac's shop

while Hackett's busy
paying it off on tick.

Ah.

A girl could die of thirst
round here.

Is it cold yet?

The hook slipped off.

Where is it?

Can you see it?

Just.

Told you to tie a rope to it.

So already they're mates.

Why shouldn't they be?

Men are supposed to be rivals.

Only in the ring.

It's all a ring, sweetheart,

if you really want to get ahead.

Cynic.

No, I'm a realist.

You're either a leader,
or you're a bleeder.

You go to the pictures much?

Not really.
You?

A few tent shows
in queensland.

Nothing like this place.

You didn't even ask her,
did you?

Mind your own business.

Piss off.

What's that?

"Jack Johnson
challenges Tommy burns."

Black bastard.

Uppity nigger!

Take a bath!

Oh!

Can we leave, please?

I'd like a word.

Nasty scene at
the picture theater, wasn't it?

I was upstairs in the circle.

I've been a fool.

Give out the red trunks, Alby.

They like their winners white,
simple as that.

The trunks, Alby.

I need a sparring partner.

What do you think,
I'd throw him on the street?

How's your footwork coming on?

It's getting there.

I have to see about
booking you a fight.

Hello, Alby.

It's not fair.

It's not fair,
but it's not his fault.

You're missing
the sport of kings.

Number six...

Farlap.

£1?

To place or to win?

To win.

Odds?

Ten to one.

Well, if I lose,
then you can take it

out of next week's pocket money.

But you've already spent that.

The week after, then.

Make it £2.

Not now, Ronnie.

Mr. McHeath, I can explain.

Iris has her money
on a horse called farlap.

Farlap?
Glue on three legs.

I should be going.

Stay for the results.

I know I'm behind
with the payments.

Behind by a nose?

A head?
A neck?

A length?

Back of the field.

That's disappointing form.

Doesn't bode well
for another start,

does it, Hackett?

Point of fact,
I wouldn't be surprised

if it gets you scratched.

Congratulations, iris.

I can have the rest
by next week.

Promise.

Iris, collect your money
and close the door behind you.

Now!

Japanese beer
turned out expensive for you.

Didn't it, Hackett?

Eddie, bring us a towel
and mop, will you?

What's going on?

Mind your own business.

Mr. Hackett?

Is he all right?

He better not be contagious.

What do you mean?

He's got these lumps
all down the inside of his arm.

They're pearls.

Hackett used to work
on the luggers.

What's he doing
with pearls in his arm?

Safekeeping.

What do you think of that dress?

Looks all right.

Think I should try it on?

It's almost closing time.

Well, the door's still open.

I'll be at the pub.

Drinking while in training?

I don't think that's allowed,
is it?

You won't tell him.

How do you know I won't?

You're a bit sure of yourself,
aren't you?

Cool off, sunshine.

Hey, fellas.

We've got a proposition
for you.

Black fellas, eh?

Oi!

No, no.
No.

Drinking the boss's grog,
that is one thing.

Selling it on, that's corrupt.

All property is theft, Ronnie.

Especially stolen property.

Expropriate
from the expropriators.

Count me out.

Yeah.

What are you doing here?

I thought
you'd gone to the pictures.

I changed my mind.

I thought I'd come and watch.

Great left hook.

What was that, Alby?

My switch foot.

You're finished for the day.
Out.

Right, Ronnie,
set it up in the corner.

You...

In the ring.

Shame no one told you
about Daisy's two left feet.

Daisy, you're a wallflower.

That's not very nice.
I'm trying.

You are.
Iris?

I'm not wearing
the right shoes.

I'm sure you'll manage.

Fancy dress.

Well, in the end,
I had to trust my own judgment.

Come on, pick it up.
Chop, chop.

That'll do for today.

Where were we?

"Speak the speech, I pray you,

"as I pronounced it to you,

"trippingly on the tongue:

"But if you mouth it,
as many of your players do,

I had as lief the town-crier
spoke my lines."

Speak the speech, I pray you,

as I pronounced it to you,

trippingly on the tongue:

But if you mouth it,
as many of your players do,

I had as lief the town-crier
spoke my lines.

I'm getting up.

What were you talking about
outside the warehouse?

When?

I heard Ronnie say
"count me out."

I asked him to drive
Daisy and I to the beach.

In the rolls?

Yes.

That sounds like a fun idea.

Especially on a hot day.

So you've done it before?

A couple of times.

Twice?

Yes.

Yeah.

Delaney?

He's not exactly scientific.

Yes, Delaney's a dumb thug;
So much the better.

I'm putting on an entertainment,
not a science exhibition.

How's your bolshevik apprentice
shaping up?

Oh, real trouper.

He's not bolshevik, Mac.

He's a Russian.

Oh.

Ooh.

Where do you reckon
these sheilas are from, Mac?

Broken homes.

Yeah.

What's a gallon of petrol
worth nowadays?

Eight pence.

Two or three ten-mile trips
to the nearest beach and back

at 12 miles to the gallon

plus wear on the engine, tires...

Tell you what.

Why don't I just
take it out of your wages,

and we'll forget the whole thing
ever happened.

Sure, Mac.

Hi.
Let me speak to Mr. McHeath.

I'm sorry, laddie,
Mac's not here.

Which race?

You sure?

Right-o.

If I see him,
I'll be sure and pass it on.

I thought you'd be Eddie.

He's seeing a man about a dog.

It's one of Mac's old ones.

You want to try it on?

I never realized boxing gloves
made you so helpless.

I could always
break your nose.

Charming.

What came first,
the boxing or the tattoo?

Tattoo.

Lucky you didn't become
a plumber then.

Or a doctor.

Or a priest.

It's not too tight?

Feels all right.

You know,
the night before a fight,

it's usual for a boxer
to rest up.

Yeah, well, Mac wants
to show you off at the club.

Besides, it's brainy Delaney
you're fighting, not dempsey.

Shall we finish that dance?

You're asking?

I'm asking.

Our chaperone's here.

The bugger's early.

Why are the doors locked?

There's thieves about.

How'd you go with the sales?

Split...

Five ways.

Is Eddie in?

No.

I need some help
with this tie.

Don't ask me.

Ronnie?

I'll have a go.

All right.
That'll do.

Who's for a bottle of bubbly?

Moi.

My share?

No, it's all right.

It's the money we made
off the Republic beer.

No, I can't take that.

Yes, you can.

Never bite the hand
that feeds.

Really?

Not even a nibble?

It is small beer.

Take the money and stop being
so bloody righteous.

Smells of gingering.

What's a gingering?

Daisy, you might want
to cover your ears.

Wow.

A gingering
is when a prostitute

purloins
from her client's wallet

whilst discharging
her professional duties.

Thieving whore.

In one.

Sounds tricky.

Definitely below the belt.

You can open up now, Phil.

Art, what are you doing?

Getting you a round.

You're a prize fighter,
not a waiter.

Take it back.

It's fine.

Take it back.

You heard the man.

Run along.

The subjects sound like

they were firing
on all fours tonight, Mac.

A bunch of no-hopers.

Iris, how about a cool,

non-alcoholic beverage
for our champion?

There's a good girl.

And while you're up,
these three may wish

to wet their whistles as well.

I don't know if you've heard,

but I'm pretty good at backup.

I know I'd have to audition.

Eyes like piss holes
in the sand.

What the hell
were you thinking?

Very unprofessional.

No one saw him
after he left the club.

And by the looks of him,
he made a night of it.

Find our seats.

Were you out drinking?

You've got a hide
to wear your brother's medal.

Take it off!

You got two choices:

Cancel or substitute Alby.

I can take the laddie, easy.

Stand on one leg.

Ronnie, hold his foot.

That'll teach you
to walk off the job.

He goes on.

You go too far.

It's called following through.

Nine,

ten.

Out.

You're up early.

You know what they say
about the early bird.

Beautiful day.

Fancy a drive to the beach?

That sounds nice.

While you're frolicking
in the surf,

I might even get in nine holes.

Slam!

You were out for the count.

I want a rematch.

Don't be silly.

You're retired.

You can't do that.

Ask around.

I think you'll find I can.

Mind you, if you get desperate,

there's always
the chaff bag fights.

They like drunks.

Let him go.

Come.

Don't come round here again.

I was doped.

Were you?

It was you, wasn't it?

Yes.

I'm sorry.

I think
we should flip a coin...

For Daisy.

That would settle it.

Whoever loses,

no hard feelings.

Deal?

Deal.

- Heads.
- Tails.

Heads it is.

Bad luck.

What's happened to your nose?

There's a freighter leaving
for San Francisco next month.

A fresh start.

Good for you.

There's enough
for a working passage.

You and I are finished, Hackett.

Are you coming to the fight?

They are running
a bit behind schedule.

How far behind?

We're only up to here.

Oh, the prelim fight?

No.

Chaff bag fight.

What is the chaff bag fight?

Oh, it's pure pantomime.

They get four rummies

and stick them
in each corner of the ring.

Did you know about this?

No.

Poor bastard.

If I knew
he was that hard up, I'd...

Pathetic, isn't it?

You have to think
of the empire like a family.

The father spends years
training up the son,

teaching him
everything he knows,

and then, according to Donnie,

when there's nothing more
to be learned,

the son should
sneak up on his old man and...

Smack!

King at him
with a piece of 4x2,

put him out of his misery.

Now, you are not telling me
that that is fair dinkum.

No, that's definitely
not fair dinkum,

but I bet it's effective.

In theory, sure.

So comfy.

Isn't it?

I could drive round like this
all night.

What time is it due back?

Well,

thanks to iris' brute force,

it's officially at the glazier's

until we pick it up
tomorrow morning.

It wasn't her fault.

Course it was.

If a window's jammed,
you don't force it.

It's glass.

Bound to break.

How's your beer?

Listen to this.

"Al 'k.O. King' norwood

"scored a first round knockout

"against challenger
midnight Murphy.

"Murphy was kissing canvas

within two beats
of the opening bell."

Norwood, is he a local?

Um...

He's middleweight champion

of the pacific coast
of north America.

The fight was out
in San Francisco last month.

Imagine it, though:

An American import.

That would have to be good
for the box office, wouldn't it?

Provided you don't
take into account

U.S. wages
and traveling expenses, sure.

It's fiscal, sweetheart.

What about
if he was already here?

A ring in?

No one's seen his photograph.

Yeah.

Still, if you were smart,
you'd stage it out of town.

Who would you use?

Jim kelso.

Nah, he's too well-known.

- Delaney.
- Too brainy.

- Taffy Jones.
- Too welsh.

Alby "othello" O'Shea.

Too... irish.

Art Walker?

White, middleweight over 21.

- Too drunk.
- You don't know that.

He could have just been
under the weather.

With what, influenza?

Maybe.

I just don't think you should
give up on him so quickly.

And why is that?

Because he's got heart.

And you've got one too.

Splash!
Oopsie Daisy.

Stop the car.

Get out of the bloody light.

Now!

I got it.
Ugh.

Here.
Give it.

All fixed, Mac.

Good as new.

You're late.

Happy?

Yeah, delirious.

What makes the dictatorship
of the worker

any better than the dictatorship
of the boss?

In theory or in practice?

Christ almighty.

In practice, for once.

- Hey.
- Hey!

His time is up.

Ours is just beginning.

How?

The end will beget the means.

When?

When you feel it in your guts.

Why wouldn't I just fight
as Art Walker?

To be blunt, you're a nobody,

especially up in Brisbane.

As an unknown,
I couldn't get you on a card.

No putting power.

But as al norwood,
I can drum you up a bit,

give you a bit of razzle.

"Al norwood,
American k.O. King,"

instant marquee value.

I'm a boxer,
not a fucking actor.

It could pay you
to be a bit of both.

What about an advance
on the purse, Mac?

That could be arranged.

You'll be fighting
an ex-local lad,

Alby "othello" O'Shea.

See?
Already it's dramatic.

What happened to
a black fighter

being a bad
business proposition?

Not if he loses
to a great white hope.

Alby's agreed to lose?

He's thinking of his future.

Perhaps you should do likewise.

Give my regards
to the marquess of queensbury

next time he pops round.

Who?

Jeez.

I guess anyone
could have jumped the fence.

Could,
but not anyone would,

just the people in the know.

That's you...

And him,

and who else?

It's only beer, Mac.

It's my property.
Do you understand?

Sure, Mac.

Hackett.

Hackett.

Hackett,
he'll do...

For starters.

Now?

Now.

Christ, that was over the top.

Mac the surgeon.

Does sir need to rest his arms
for a moment?

I'm fine.

Hey.

You reckon that'll wash out?

Claret stains
are notoriously tricky to shift,

worse than red wine even.

You may lower your arms now,
sir.

Do we tell iris about Hackett?

Not wise.

They've got a history.

Had a history.

They're beautiful.

It's amazing
what can come from

a little irritation, isn't it?

They must have cost you
a fortune.

Yes, an arm and a leg.

What, don't you like them?

Of course I do.

Of course I do.

I'm wondering if Art is home.

Yeah, he's up...

Donnie.

Art.

Like to earn some pocket money?

It depends.

We've got some crates
of bitter we need to store.

A case?

Property of the collective.

You have any space?

Welcome aboard, Art.

You're gonna try
and talk me into

taking the fight, aren't you?

Things have moved on.

Where to?

It's mustard gas.

He's running on 1/5 of a lung.

For king and country.

Just country.

Fuck the king.

I think McHeath's
killed Hackett.

Do you care?

Hackett used to tender
for my father.

You're saying your father
was a Pearl diver?

He's the wrong color.

He was a master pearler.

In his heyday,
he had a six-boat fleet,

white shoes, white suit,
white Panama hat,

and walking cane.

The very white man who

slowly but surely
drank himself to death.

Where did that leave you?

Susceptible.

Tender looks after the diver
while he's underwater, right?

He interprets his signals,

makes sure he stays breathing

and doesn't ruin his insides
coming up too fast.

It's a big responsibility.

It's a partnership.

The diver
has to trust the tender,

and...

The tender
has to be trustworthy.

Ladies and gentlemen,

we are privileged
to have present today

all the way from north America

Mr. Al norwood,

"the k.O. King."

Mr. Norwood,

as a seasoned champion,

why accept a challenge
from an unknown...

A black man?

Mr. Norwood prefers
to speak with his fists.

Mr. Norwood
knows Alby "othello" O'Shea

to be an extremely gifted
young up-and-comer.

Mr. O'Shea is a young
and confident fighter

with a fast and deadly punch
both attacking and countering,

so I guarantee we see
some exciting boxing

come tomorrow night.

Mrs. Norwood,

how do you find Australia?

No, iris is actually my...

I just step off the boat,
and there it is.

Actually, it's all too exciting
for words.

You don't mind your husband
fighting while on holiday?

Well, he may be the k.O. King,

but I'm the champ of this ring.

Mr. Norwood, please,

a photo with you
and your beautiful wife

over by the window.

Where did you pick up
the accent?

From a former acquaintance.

This former acquaintance,
in the end,

did he jump,
or was he pushed?

I was just
adding to the drama.

You used to like that.

You overstepped the Mark.

I'm sorry.

I thought
it might help ticket sales.

Ticket sales?

You don't seriously think

that's what this is about,
do you?

I won't go.

I'll stay in.

You will go.

You start something,
you finish it.

What?

What's going on?

In what sense?

What's Mac up to?

It's... it's complicated.

He asked me how you could
afford those new suits.

What did you say?

That they were on sale
and that you were lucky enough

to both find them
in the right size.

It's a crisscross fix.

Both boxers think
the other's taking a dive.

So who wins?

Alby, no contest.

If Art's got any sense,

he'll go down easy.

That's not what Mac's after.

Who knows what he's after?

He's following through.

Who are you talking to?

No one.

Ronnie, is that you?

Ronnie?

Do you want me to wake him?

Both of you, get to bed.

Does Ronnie know not to let
Art wear the medal?

He wouldn't be that stupid.

It's all right.

Excuse me, senator,

do you mind
if I borrow your pen?

I'd like to send
a good luck note to my husband.

Of course.

Jimmy,

be a pal?

Strictly private.

You understand?

I've got a private note
for Mr. Norwood.

Who's your money on, son?

Alby O'Shea.

Except my grandpa
wouldn't place my bet.

Is that right?

Well, then,
let's go find you a bookie.

Splash!

Two,

three,

four,

five,

six,

seven...

Ten!

San Francisco.

Los Angeles.

New Orleans.

New York.

Chicago.

What would I do in America?

I don't speak the language.

It's a cinch.

You'll pick it up in no time.

What did you say?

Did you hear the one about

the lone ranger and Tonto
being chased by indians?

They're galloping down
through this canyon,

indians in hot pursuit,

arrows going zing, zing
through the air.

They come round this corner...

Halt on the brakes.

Straight in front of them...

Another war party,

bows drawn.

They look up on the Ridge,
indians all the way along.

There's no way out.

The lone ranger turns
and says,

"what are we going to do now,
Tonto?"

Tonto looks back
at the lone ranger and says,

"what do you mean 'we, '
kemo sabe?"

Sorry.

Sorry.
Shh.

Shh.

You and who else?

It was iris's idea.

Be a man.

If I do it,
I'll never get her back.

Hook, line, and sinker.

How's your gut?

In your own time.

No pressure.

Tell Charlie about the fight.

First-round knockout.

We should get going.

Just because
you fought as someone else

doesn't mean you weren't great.

So long, Charlie.

There will be another chance.

Until then,
we just toe the line.

He'd written her name.

And it was all backwards...

Not the spelling, the letters.

My boy used to write like that.

I didn't know you had a son.

You're thinking McHeath
is illiterate.

No.

I'm thinking
he can't read or write.

It wouldn't surprise me
if he was a bastard, though.

He sure acts like one.

What did you do that for?

I loaded my glove
with Charlie's medal.

I cheated.

I ruined you.

Didn't I?

A coat button
deflected the bullet

and saved his life.

So fiercely intent
on killing Walker

was the...

Would-be assassin that he...

[Gunshot

fuck!

I want to speak to Donnie
alone.

It's not fair, is it?

Why should you be punished
for his ballistic balls-up?

Divide and rule.

The cornerstone of empire.

Mm.

It's to buy yourself a new suit,

something a little quieter.

After you've dealt with
the problem,

we'll see about
improving your new role.

So the...

Lady-in-waiting

becomes the mistress.

It's free board.

Are you offering to pay my rent?

That's not the bloody point!

You are living with the man.

Don't be stupid.

I'm living in his house;

so is Alby.

You dropped this.

All's fair in love and war,
Donnie.

Let's go.

Why don't we just
go to the police?

I'm not a dog.

It's not dogging.

We'll just get him off our back
for a few days

until the boat sails.

I won't run.

We have to run.

He'll kill you.

Wait.
Wait.

Fuck this.

I'm knocking off.

We are not finished.

You come at a high price,
don't you?

Promise to leave him alone.

Well, you're hardly
in a position to bargain.

I'm back for good.

I promise.

You need a hot bath.

The mashie, I think.

Number three.

What time do you call this?

No stone left unturned, Mac.

We heard they left town.

The two of you couldn't organize
a piss-up in a brewery.

Speak to the foreman.

Give me back the Colt.

Last night, you came over.

We played cards till dawn.

Sure, Mac.

Sure,
Mac.

We're setting up mah-jongg.

Who wants to play?

They don't know how.

They'll pick it up.

Just teach them the rules,
iris.

You're like a bad penny.

Sorry to hear about Charlie.

Walk away, Art.

Smack!
Thud!

Bad lad, Alby.

What are we going to do now,
Tonto?

You made me a promise.

That didn't include
having my nose rubbed in it.

And you're not off the hook.

You know he cheated,
don't you?

We didn't give him any choice.

That's right.

Birds of a feather, aren't we?

What the hell
are you two doing?

He's got the pearls.

Hold on, boys.

Check under his shirt.

As you were.

Go on, do it.

What are you waiting for?

Get rid of him.

What is this?

Mutiny?

Do as you're fucking told!

One.

Two.

Three.

Crack!

Thud!

Splash!

Splash!

I'm no good for you.

I think
you better find your own way.