All language subtitles for Perriers.Bounty.2009.1080p.BluRay.x264.AAC5.1-[YTS.MX]

(Narrator) 'The ocean, huh?

'Never fails to provoke a person
to musin' on philosophical shit.

'Heavy shit,
like life and death and faith,

'and all that bewilderin' shit.

'The fuckin' universe, the individual's
seemin' insignificance in it?

'But are we insignificant?

'I mean, take, for example,

'this individual.

'Waster, name of Michael McCrea.

'Last night,
he imbibed to beat the band

'and today,
he's payin' the seedy price.

'It's evenin'.

'He's havin' himself a little siesta,
yeah.

'Little catnap.

'Now, relax yourself
and pay close attention.

'There's a point to all this drivel.'

Very peaceful in repose there,
Michael.

You know your deadline's 10:00 tonight?

Er...

So what are you doin' in bed?

Were you out last night?

I was, yeah.

(Ivan) Gettin' ripped
instead of hustlin', man? Fuck me!

I'd call that a gross abuse of your time.

- What little you have...
-...and gettin' less.

Now, you miss
the aforesaid deadline, man,

Darren says you've to pay
a particular price.

Two bones to be broke,
your decision which.

And digits don't count,
you understand?

- Fingers, toes...
-...they don't count at all.

You wouldn't happen to have it,
would you?

No.

(Ivan) Suggest you get out
and get lookin' then, Michael.

- Beg, borrow, steal...
-...only get it and bring it.

You've four more hours
before Perrier's judgement comes down.

You don't mind if we take
these pistatchees, man, do you?

No.

Fuck...

Wow, are those for me?

No, they're from Shamie.

He got me them as an apology
for all the lates he's been working.

Good one.

- So relieved!
- Yeah? What about?

You know...

Oh, the fact that you thought
he was losing interest.

What an idiot!
Because he's not, Michael.

- Well, I'm glad to hear it.
- He's not, you know.

We're as strong as ever.
I mean, the passion, the fire...

Oh, God, how are you?

- Fine.
- Are you sure?

- I just got paid, I can give you...
- No, Brend...

-...Two hundred?
- No, Brend, it's cool.

I'm gonna meet a dude by the name
of The Mutt, he'll sort me out.

- The Mutt?
- Yeah.

You know, like a loan
to pay off a loan, it's...

Fair enough. Well, call in later,
let me know how it goes.

I will. See ya.

(Jerome) Easy, Apollo!
Easy! Heel, heel, heel.

It's only cos he's fond of you, Michael.

Yeah, he wants to fuck you.

Michael McCrea!

Witness a righteous
fuckin' ricochet, man.

Good one.

Er, The Mutt been around?

You missed him, man,
and the tiff he got into.

Some fuck slaggin' his snooker skills,
yeah?

Come here.

Fuck's laughin' to beat the band, right.

So he gets bet, see the evidence?

Jesus. What's the other stain?

The brown one? Couldn't tell you
and wouldn't like to guess.

So, I help you in any other way?

Some shit, say, no?

- No.
- Fair enough.

- Any idea where he went?
- I haven't.

- Fuck!
- But, listen, man.

You change your mind,
you know me whereabouts.

(Dogs barking)

- Man, youse are barred!
- Fuck you. We're taking table nine.

Just remember to keep them dogs
the fuck off it, you hear me?

I never got that stain out of twelve.

(Russ) Shut the fuck up, Mullo.
(Jerome) Achilles! Get off that table!

- The fuck are you doin'?
- (Clamper) This yours, yeah?

Get that away from me wheel, man.

- Pick it up.
- Yeah?

Man, I'd fuckin' heft you.

I'll haul you harder
than you fuckin' hauled that.

Go for it. Come on, go for it.

Fuck him, Lar.
We'll get him again, yeah?

We've got your reg, pal,
and your fuckin' face.

You are under surveillance big style.

Face.

What the fuck are you doin' here?

We need to have a chat.

Why the fuck would I want
to have a chat with you?

Cos I'm dyin', Michael.

What?

I'm dyin', son, and I thought...

You're fuckin' dyin'?

What is it, cancer?

It's cancer, yeah.

Ah, man.

You gonna talk?

Man, I would if I knew what to say.
This is...

Yeah, I know. And I hate to appear
like this right out of the fuckin' blue,

but you know, there's shit
between you and me is unresolved.

And your mother, of course.

And I just thought, the situation
now bein' what it is that we could talk...

Listen, dad...

What's up, Michael?

- I'm workin' on it.
- I was you, I'd work harder, man.

Either that or just resign yourself.

Try and find a state of Zen,
of acceptance, yeah.

(Ivan) Right. Or resignation.

- Cos we're gonna be comin'...
-...swoopin'.

...descendin'. Like time and tide,
we wait for no man.

(Michael) All I owe's a grand, man.

Might as well be a mil,
the chances of me gettin' it by tonight.

Like I said, if I had it, Michael...

You off the drink?

Just have a yen for some java, man.

- So, what other options have you?
- Well, apart from shootin' meself,

there's this one dude who sharks
occasional, name a' Muttley, man.

Ah, The Mutt.

That's right. You know the fuck?

Hear he drinks down
at The Millers bar.

The Millers?

- What about our talk?
- Wait here, I'll be back in an hour.

- And then we'll talk?
- Yeah, we'll see.

"We'll see"?
I'm only fuckin' dyin', Michael.

(♪ Little Boots: "New in Town")

- Nice flowers you got Brenda, man.
- How are you, Michael?

How am I? I'm sick of fuckin' seein'
you and your bitches!

excuse me!

Listen, Michael. I know Bren's
your mate and all, but, you know...

-...fuckin' spark's gone, man.
- The "spark"? So end it, you fuck, you!

Sever your ties and show her
some fuckin' respect.

- Tosser.
- Are you gonna take that shit?

Aye, there he is.
You see him?

- That fella?
- Yeah.

Look at that bitch, man.
What do you think?

Dirty, like a bag of carrots.

- What about that one?
- Ah, looks a bit horsey, man.

It's the horsey ones like you
to give them a gallopin'.

(Clears throat)

- I know you?
- No, and I don't mean to interrupt.

But I heard tell
you give the occasional loan.

When I'm flush I do,
which at the moment I'm far from.

- Sorry, pal, can't help you.
- You serious?

Fair enough.

That shit you were sayin' back there,
man, yeah?

Callin' me chick a bitch and all?
I didn't like it.

- You weren't meant to.
- Well, I want an apology.

Fuck head.

It's not forthcoming, no?

No.

OK, then...

Fuck!

I would happily fuckin' burst you now,
you know that?

Now, you gonna call Brenda?

- I am!
- Well, do it tonight.

And you fuckin' let her down gently,
you hear me?

Well done, man.
What the fuck was that about?

I wouldn't like to say.

I wouldn't like to hear you say, cos
that'd mean you'd a big fuckin' mouth.

What?

Now let me peddle you somethin' here.

Dinny here and meself
are on a job tonight,

little break-and-enter up in Dalkey.

Financial reward's
pretty much a cert,

and that's pretty much
the extent of me peddle.

Question is, do you wanna purchase?

So Dinny's out one night,
this wanker's there, Loudmouth.

Goes to the toilet...

- The dude?
- No, Dinny, but the dude's in there.

His phone rings,
the wife, they chat.

The alarm system's broken
on their house,

the alarm dude can't get out
until Monday.

Back upstairs he's talkin'...

- Dinny?
- The dude, man! Will you pay attention?

This new restaurant
they're goin' to Friday night,

so tonight bein' Friday,
the house is empty,

and not only,
but also alarmless.

Now, the thing is we need an extra man.

- Why?
- Well, Dinny's the watchman.

But say the dude has
a 50" plasma screen?

I can't fuckin' hump it solo now, can I?

Also, we halve the exposure time,
two men inside, you with me?

Yeah.

(The Mutt) Michael, come here.
Check this out.

Stack of filth, man, under the wardrobe.
Look at that one.

"Voluptuous".
For heifer-lovers only.

Look at the udders on that.

Nice.

You like a bit of volup, do you?
You dirty rip!

The fuck is that?

(Chuckles) Oh, he's fuckin' around
on the missus, look.

Maybe that's the missus.

(The Mutt) That's the missus,
the pinch-faced cunt.

No wonder he's gone round
looking for the bit of heft.

We could blackmail this fuck.

Put them back under the wardrobe.

Hey, wait, wait, wait!

Couple of them for me personal use.

I like a bit of volup meself.

(Michael) Why didn't we look
for any cash?

Plastic, man! Cheque books!

What the fuck would he be doin'
with cash?

This way you stand to make
a fuck load more than you owe.

Yeah? When?

Partner's in peril,
The Mutt moves, fast, man.

Gonna call the fucker up tonight,
talk figures,

set up the rendezvous for tomorrow,
soon as the banks are open.

We get the money,
you give Perrier double what you owe

to forego your chastisement, yeah?

What do we think of thirty grand?

- Ten each?
- No small amount.

What?

You're not gonna fuck me, are you?

Michael, never doubt that The Mutt
is a man of his word, all right?

- OK.
- Here!

Or that his fuckin' word
is his fuckin' bond, you understand?

I do.

Fuckin' cheek of you.

Youse miserable fucks!

I told you we'd get you, shithole, yeah.

Surveillance.

(Tyres screeching)

(Car horn blaring)

(Mobile phone rings)

Yeah, hello?

You just earned another broken bone,
McCrea. That's three now.

Man, you nearly killed me!
I'll have it tomorrow, all right?

We're comin' to get you tonight
and we're gonna bust you...

- What?
- Big style...

- 'Big style, you hear me?'
- Fuck off!

Cut me off.

What the fuck are you doin'?

You're illegally parked.

Take it fuckin' off.

Once it's on, man, it doesn't come off,
unless you pay the fine.

- Then, if we've time...
-...which we may well not.

(Clamper) Correct. May be a delay
even after you pay.

A day, man, could be as much as two.
Do you get it?

(Ivan) Hey, fuck head.

Can't believe clampers.

Oh, no, no, no, no, no!

Not the gun...

Fuck!

(Music plays from Brenda's flat)

Brend, come on!

- You didn't take me gun, did you?
- No.

- Brend, me gun is gone.
- I didn't...

I didn't!

You're the only one with a fucking key.

(Sobbing)

What's wrong?

He's left me.

Who?

Shamie.

He called, he said it was over,
he said the spark was gone.

It wasn't gone for me!

It was there for me, you know?

Yeah...

I can't live without him...

No. No, Brend.

Brend, wait a minute.
Open the fucking door! Brend!

(Banging)

So predictable, man.
The last place you wanna go is home...

...cos that's the first place
the fuck who's after you will look.

You never made your choice of bones.

- Wanna make it now?
- Lads...

No? Sure, fuck it,
we'll make it for you.

Left leg, tibulus, yeah?

That do it?

I didn't hear a break.
Go again, man, just to be sure.

(Orlando) Here, grab his leg there.

Will you go, man! Come on!

(Gunshot)

I knew you had it!

- What the fuck were you thinkin'?
- I saved your life!

You saved me legs,
you're gonna cost me me life.

Fucking fool!

Fuckin' cryin' again?

All right, Bren? Bren, Bren, Bren.
I'm sorry.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

OK? You did
what you thought was right.

All right? You just reacted.

(Door opens)

What the fuck are you doin' here?

- That was a long fuckin' hour!
- Oh, right, yeah.

Well, as you can see, I got delayed.

- Is he dead?
- Man, what the fuck do you think?

What do I think? I think you need
to dispose of the body.

The wise man advises.
You gonna help?

I wouldn't be makin' the suggestion
otherwise.

Whose car is that outside?

...and then there's the question of force,
how excessive it was,

not to mention why you had the gun
in the first place.

It's mine!

She stole it off me to kill herself,
isn't that right, Bren?

- You suicidal?
- Yeah.

I'm sorry to hear that, now.

- You know I'm dyin'?
- Really?

(Michael) Shitloads in common,
don't you?

- Shut the fuck up.
- (Jim) There's no need for that.

Is there not?
In case you hadn't noticed, man,

we're in deepest fuckin' peril.

So, if you don't wanna end up
like a certain Maurice Joyce, man...

- That's a myth!
- Me hole it is.

- Who's Maurice Joyce?
- A dude

who made the mistake
of strokin' gear from Perrier,

who tracked him down, man,
caught him,

cut off his prick
and shoved it up his hole.

That's right.

So just, you know, behave
as befits the situation, will youse?

You wanna keep goin' straight,
Michael, yeah?

Straight into the mountains.

What, in case I missed them?
I know the fuckin' way.

(Jim) How long was she going out
with Shamie?

Couple of years.
She's better off.

- What was he, a wanker?
- Yeah, to say the least, man.

Well, he must've done somethin' for her,
get that reaction.

This is good, now, isn't it?

Father and son in mutual toil...

- Man, gimme a break.
- I know, the circumstances aren't ideal...

Still, somethin' we never did,
you know?

Yeah, that looks good now.

(Engine stutters)

Damn, no!

All right, let's...

(Engines dies again)

You're floggin' a dead fuckin' pony,
Mike.

- Yeah, it's horse. Horse, man!
- Whatever, horse.

You're wastin'
your fuckin' time, man!

What time's the pay-off?

I dunno. The Mutt said
he'd call around half-nine, so...

- Right.
- Half ten, eleven?

We should be out of town by twelve.
Few quid in me pocket.

You're set. OK, so...

I spoke to your mother
a coupla months back.

- Yeah?
- She's doin' good.

You wanna talk now?

All I wanna do is kip,
man, you mind?

Up to you, man.

Say, this is a well worn area now,
the tradition of buried bodies.

Like Boot Hill,
where the gunslingers went?

Restin' place of the hard...

Lived and died by the sword.

Well, not the sword, the gun.

There's somethin' romantic,
I reckon, in that.

Lights below...

...stars above...

...the waft of...whatever on the wind.

What is it, cowshit?

Certainly has that essence.

(Car door opens)

(Car door closes)

(Narrator) 'So, peace, yeah?

'Respite. Sanctuary.

'Well earned maybe, but temporary,

'cos danger's percolatin' below.

'A gang is gathered, a common goal.

'You with me so far?
Are you followin'?

'Good.

'Cos I wanna introduce you
to someone else now.

'Dude you may've already
heard referred to.

'Name of Darren Perrier.'

- Did you go down?
- (Victor) No one there.

- No body even?
- (Victor) There was nothin', man.

That'll haunt me now.

(Victor) What?

Ivan's grief.

Rest of me fuckin' days.

- The fuckin' poignancy of it.
- (Victor) Oh, right, yeah.

The rawness.

Suppose them bein'
the best of mates and all...

Lovers.

(Perrier) Lovers?

What the fuck are you talkin' about?

Never see the way
they looked at each other?

Was amour there, man,
you can't disguise it.

- I never knew.
- (Hank) Well, they never said.

There was an unnecessary shame
there too.

A fear...

- Of what?
- Your judgment, maybe?

I'd never have judged, man.

Jesus Christ! Love is love,
who cares how queer or lezzy?

Fuck.

Ah, that saddens me now.

So, what do you want us
to do now?

Youse awake enough to keep lookin'?

- Fucking right!
- Right!

Ivan.

I know you and Orlando
were gay lovers.

And I want you to know
it doesn't bother me.

Really?

Man, I'm hep to all that shit.

Just wish you would've told me,
though, you know?

I'm sorry, Darren.

Hey, forgiven, forgotten,
know what I'm sayin'?

Yeah.

Forgiven, forgotten.

So fucking sad.

- Are you sad?
- I am...

- Are you vengeful?
- I'm devastated.

Right. Are you vengeful?

- I don't know, I just wanna...
- Get revenge?

- Yeah.
- Good, cos listen, man.

If the boys don't get
these fucks by mornin',

I'm puttin' out a bounty.

That's right.

That's how much I respect the love
whose name you could never speak.

- How much?
- 10,000 euros.

Five thousand for McCrea
and five thousand for his bitch.

- Thank you, Darren.
- Fuck that shit.

Thank you.

- Least I can fuckin' do for a mate.
- Thank you.

Anyway...

...I'll leave you to your grievin'.

- You been there all fuckin' night?
- That's right.

- Why?
- Keep myself awake.

- Why would you wanna do that?
- No reason.

If I tell you somethin',
do you promise not to go bananas?

Maybe.

I don't have cancer.
Now don't be goin' bananas, now!

- You're not fuckin' dyin'?
- I didn't say that.

In fact, it's gonna happen
sooner than you think.

- When?
- Next time I sleep.

Bear with me here a sec, all right?

The night before last, Death came
to me, son, to me bedroom.

It wasn't a dream,
I can still differentiate. It was real!

- He told me...
- Brenda!

- "Jim," he said...
- Brenda, get yourself in gear.

Listen to me, son!

Man, there I was feelin' sorry for you...

So you should.

...and here you come tellin' tales,
toyin' with me fuckin'...

Why, man? Me fuckin' sympathy!

- Michael, he came to me.
- No, he didn't!

You and me have shit
we need to resolve, son.

Fuckin' toot sweet!

'Toot' what?

Bren, we're gonna have
to burn your car, you mind?

(Brenda) Do I mind? Yes, I mind.

(Michael) Unless you want them
to trace you to it.

- Who?
- The cops!

Trace you to the blood in the boot,

to the body buried
beside the fuckin' thing...

- (Brenda) All right.
- All right then!

All right! Fucking burn it!
I don't give a fuck!

Shamie and I first made love in there.

Yeah? Was it awkward at all?

It was beautiful.

Yeah, well in light of how things have
turned out, maybe it's for the best.

- But you said you were dying.
- I am.

I don't get it.
How could you be dying?

Forget it, Bren.
You don't wanna know.

- I do.
- Ah, maybe Michael's right, Bren.

It requires a leap of faith
he wasn't willin' to make,

and you more than likely
won't be either.

Try me.
- Nah, just...

Try me, Jim.
I'm willing at least to make the effort.

All right, so...

Oh, just shut up
and come on, will youse?

(Thunderclaps)

I was lyin' there in me jammies,
I'd just gotten into bed, you know?

And the room got cold.
Really quick, like, really cold.

And I looked
and I saw this dude there,

nothin' strange about him, middle-aged
dude in a suit at the end of me bed.

But I knew. I knew who he was.

And he said to me,

"Jim, bit of bad news
for you, Jim."

And I said, "Am I dead?"

He said, "No. But next time you sleep,
you will be, you with me?"

I said, "I am, man. I am.

"Sure, why wouldn't I be,
you bein' The Reaper and shit?"

And he said, "That I am, man.

"That I am."

Hey! Get on out of there, now!

It's rainin'.
Do you believe this?

- Bitch'd begrudge us a bit of shelter.
- Now!

Fuck you!
We'll go when it eases off!

- What then, Jim?
- We talked a bit, believe it or not.

The lights went out, and when I turned
them on again, he was gone.

So I went downstairs to the kitchen,

poured meself a sizeable
drop of Jack and wept.

You know why?

Because never in my life
have I been as certain of anything

as I was that he was
who I thought he was,

and that what he said
was no less than how it would be.

They're on their way!

- Who?
- The police!

They know you tried to rape me.

What?

You fucking animal!
You sodomite!

Well, we'll see in a minute exactly
how the likes of you is dealt with.

(Brenda) That's amazing! And did you
get the chance to ask him, Jim?

- About what?
- About the afterlife.

I did, but he declined
to gimme an answer.

Said there's certain things he likes
to leave obscure and enigmatic.

"Cos that's me way, man."

- Is that what he said?
- What he said and the way he said it.

"That's me way, man."
Wow.

- And why choose you, Da?
- I dunno.

Oh, he left that ambiguous too, did he?
Very convenient, Da.

Well, it's his way, man,
isn't it?

Sketch!

- You believe this shit?
- Will youse fuckin' sketch?

She did fuckin' ring them! Bitch!
Do you believe it?

Still suicidal, Bren?

Am I what? Oh, no.

- That's good to hear. Why not?
- Well, I'm sober now for one.

And for two, I'm kinda convinced
there might still be hope.

I'm not gonna just give up, Jim.
I'm gonna fight for my man.

Find out what the problem is
and see if we can't,

through good, fucking honest
communication, work things out.

- I'll call as soon as we get back...
- What? Are you mad?

- I'd only be there half...
- No!

I'd only be there half an hour,
or say an hour...

- An hour.
- Yeah, say at the most.

- Shamie doesn't want you back, Bren.
- Why not?

- Because he's a wanker, man.
- That's it?

- Yeah, yeah. That's right.
- Maybe you're the wanker.

Oh, maybe I am, but I'm not the wanker
has you pullin' your hair out

every other night,
and me havin' to suffer it.

"Shamie was odd tonight.
I'm really worried about Shamie."

Shamie's been blowin' hot and cold
on you the last two fuckin' years.

Know why you never knew
where you stood?

Because you never fuckin' stood
anywhere.

- Come on...
- No, she needs to hear this!

All she is to him was a joke.

Somethin' cute on his arm
when it suited him!

(Jim) All right.

A convenient fuck.
And it's not all right.

I'm just sayin' give her
a fuckin' break, man.

Don't mind him, Bren.

What the...

...blazes?

Bren?

Now this... This is just
fuckin' infantile, man.

Fuckin'...

Bren?

Brenda?

- Can't say I blame her, Michael.
- What?

Well, what you said
was fairly fuckin' insensitive.

Sensitive as she is at the moment.

Yeah, well, you know,
tough love and all.

- Home truths?
- That's right. Shit fuckin' had to be said.

- Any coke on you, Michael?
- Any what?

- Cocaine.
- What the fuck are you talking about?

(Woman screaming
and man shouting)

- Come on. I'm asking you to get in.
- I don't want to get in.

Get the fuck off me!

Right.
What we'll do is talk to them...

Da! Da!

Freeze, motherfuckers!
Move and I'll blow your fuckin' brains out.

- Hiya, Bren. Get in.
- Hiya, Jim.

- Now, get down on the ground, man.
- Take it easy.

Down, man!
Toot fuckin' sweet.

- Toot what?
- Shut up. Toot sweet.

Michael, get in.
Go on, man. I've got your back.

Don't fuckin' move, you with me?

You follow?
Don't even fuckin' breathe.

So, you gonna punch it or what?

All right, Bren?

You not talking to me?
All right. I'm sorry.

I shouldn't have spoken to you like that,
I just...

How sorry are you?

- Very. What do you mean?
- Make it up to me.

- How?
- Bring me down to Shamie's.

Oh, fuck that.
Ring him, you want.

- I need to see him!
- Bring her down to Shamie's, son.

- I already told you...
- Bring her down. Go on.

Shit. I fuckin...

- Bring her down to Shamie's.
- Shut the fuck up, man.

- (Phone rings)
- Bring her down to Shamie's.

Shut the fuck up!
Hello?

What's the story,
you want your money?

Oh, right... Er...

'We been trying to get a hold of you
but couldn't.'

- So you went ahead?
- 'Yeah. Thirty grand as agreed.'

Since you shared in the scheme's
inception, you share in the loot.

That's good of you, Mutt.
That's very good of you.

Integrity's what you call it.
Right, here's me location...

Go on, you mad fucker! Jesus!

(♪ Rock music pounding from car)

Fuck!

Relax. We're not the cops.

Did you stroke that car?

We did.
Did you stroke that one?

We did.

You wanna swap?

OK.

(Michael) Are you sure about this?
(Brenda) Michael...

- No, it's fine. Just don't blame me.
- I'm not gonna...

Just don't blame me.
That's all I'm gonna say.

- Why would I...
- Don't go blamin' me.

- You gettin' out or what?
- All right.

And don't be all day, man.
I'm meetin' The Mutt at one.

All right!

- Man, will you come on!
- All right!

- Hey, Brenda.
- All right, lads?

Ahem!

You know your ma moved down
to Carrigaholt?

- Yeah, where's that?
- County Clare.

It's a beautiful spot, apparently.

Got a view of the sea and all...

- I was sorry to hear youse split up.
- Uh-huh.

Well, it happens, doesn't it?

- Have you see her since?
- Nah.

I promised her I'd drop down, but...

It just never seemed to happen.

I mean, it's not as if we're not
still mates or nothin', you know?

But what I was thinking see,
why don't we go down?

Man, gimme a break!
You know why.

Michael, what occurred in the past,
it's the past.

- Your mother...
- Da, I'm not goin' down!

(Shamie) The fuck are you doin'?
Come back!

No, you come out.

(Shamie) Man, someone will see you,
you crazy slut, you.

- Are you gonna fuck me?
- Yes!

Now, come fuckin' on!

Bren...

Bren!

Ah, here we go.

Bren!

Just...just wait here a minute.

Bren!

- Come on, Achilles. Come on.
- Come on.

Like that!
Get the meat in your mouth!

What's wrong with me, Michael?
What was I lacking?

No, don't start goin' down that road now,
you hear me?

You're lackin' nothin'.
You're funny as fuck, for one.

- Self-pitying, more like.
- Fuck that, now.

- You're also good lookin'...
- Depressive.

- No, you're smart.
- Suicidal, self-obsessed.

Let's not forget the fella
I shot last night.

Yeah, I'm a right fucking catch.

How's it going there?

- What's all this in aid of?
- Trainin'.

For the Savage Canine Vernacular
Annual Celebration of Rip.

What's that?

It's like the Olympics
only it's for warrior dogs.

"Warrior dogs"?
Sounds awesome.

All right, go for it now.

Don't look at me,
look at the meat and go.

Bollocks.

What do you say,
you wanna set them on someone?

"Hoose" of course.

(Jerome) Achilles, just go for the meat.
You did it yesterday.

Why don't you "hoose" him up on that?

Give it a go.

All right, Achilles.
Hoose!

You see?
It's all in the fuckin' "hoose," man.

- Nice one, old timer. Top dog, man.
- That did the business, eh?

You were right, night after night,
my fucking bullshit.

How'd you put up with me?

I dunno.
Maybe I'm the bigger idiot.

You are an idiot.

Oh, fucking hell...

Bren...

Just... blow.

Fuck you! Fucking "blow"!

(Car horn)

Youse right?

All right.
I'll be back in a minute.

Mutt?

- Mutt?
- How's it goin'?

Ah, man.
Listen, I really appreciate this.

- Fuck that, man, that right, Din?
- Yeah, man.

Nah, seriously,
you're gettin' me out of a major...

Jesus, look at that chick
in her nip, man!

This isn't fuckin' workin' at all, man!

- What the fuck?
- Is that Michael?

This is beyond the fuckin' beyond, man.

- Gimme a clatter.
- What?

To wake me up. A good and hard one,
to get me blood up and running...

Fuck... Good one.

What the fuck are youse doin'?

- Who are you?
- None of your fuckin' business.

Now, nice and easy, man.

Nice and smooth.
Step away from the car.

- That smooth enough?
- All right, Jim?

Peachy, Bren. Be cool.

What the fuck did you do to him?

Nothin'. Clobbered him.

Yeah?
You call a clobberin' nothin'?

It's somethin' now.

I don't suppose we could...
Look, Perrier wants...

- (Jim) Must be his mate.
- Whose?

Perrier's, man, what say?

- Could be.
- Must fuckin' be, man.

Now, think a little interlude's required,
yeah?

Let's find us somewhere solitary.

- You concurrin'?
- Yeah.

(Jim) You know somewhere?
(Brenda) I think so.

Give us another clatter, will you?

(Narrator) "'Another clatter"!

(Giggling)

'Mad fuck, isn't he? Jim.

'I like him, though.
Like Bren as well.

'Be nice if somethin' developed
between her and Michael, wouldn't it?

'Or if Michael and Jim resolved
whatever it is occurred in their past.

'Be a bit of symmetry there, yeah?
Closure, whatever.

'But I happen to know
some shit you don't, my friends.

'There's going to be heartbreak
e'er this day is done.

'Brutal and tragic events
are brewin' up righteous.

'So, when they come to pass, man,

'don't go sayin'
I didn't fuckin' warn youse.

'Still and all...

'... bit of craic, yeah?'

- What the fuck are you doin'?
- What?

- That's spit!
- Which is sterile, Michael. Relax.

Go on.

So is piss as a matter of fact. Here.
Not that I'm advocatin' its use.

- What the fuck is this?
- He owed you, didn't he?

Ten, man.
This is the full-whack thirty.

What he gets for tryin' to get you killed.

Thanks, Da.

And thanks, you know,
for savin' me bacon and shit.

You're welcome.
So, will you get me some coke now?

- Jesus Christ! All right!
- Yeah?

Fuckin' shut you up!
I said "yeah", didn't I?

There.

- What about comin' down to your ma's?
- No. Fuck that shit, man.

The coke procurement's
as far as me obligation extends.

- Where is your ma?
- County Clare.

(Brenda) Why don't you
wanna see her?

None of your business.

- They had a fallin' out.
- Over what?

- Over what?
- Tell her.

You.

- (Jim) Do you mind?
- Man, I don't give a fuck.

About four years back,
Michael caught this dude,

name a' Steve Lynch,
givin' this girl a beatin'.

So he stepped in
and gave the dude a beatin'.

Few weeks after,
this fella knocked up to the house.

- Elaine was there alone...
- Your wife?

That's right. And attacked her.

Fucked her up so bad,
she was in hospital for a fuckin' month,

broke her arm, man,
a bunch of her ribs, her nose...

Oh, that's... That's terrible!

Did he get done for it?

(Jim) No, he was shot by the guards
about four days after.

Yeah, good riddance.

A post office robbery.

That's really horrible, Jim!

It wasn't your fault, though, Michael.

- You were only doing what you...
- They fuckin' thought it was.

Enough at least I was told
they never wanted to see me again.

I was someone they were better off
no longer havin' in their lives.

- Michael...
- I only done what anyone would've.

I know.

Oh, you "know"?
Fuckin' four years later?

(Jim) Michael, you know
we tried to make it up.

How many times did we call,
either one or the other?

- And what did he say?
- He never answered.

- He cut us off, man.
- Could you blame me?

No, I couldn't.

I couldn't.

I understand you were hurt.

But weren't we all?

Michael? Weren't we all?

I mean, I just thought, if we could,
one last time, the three of us,

just sit around a table, you know?

But fuck it, man. You're right.
It's more than your obligation extends to.

Anyway...we get me coke now?

(Clifford) All right, Michael?

Observe a righteous curlicue, man.

- See? Cos it curls.
- Very good.

Come here,
any chance of some of your best?

- How much?
- Say, twenty grams?

You're talkin' expense, man.
Six hundred euros?

(Clifford) Fuck, man, you're flush!

(Michael) Well, circumstances
can change in a quick, man.

All you need is a bit of luck.

Speakin' of luck, you wanna game?

Fuck that. We're in, we're out.
Toot sweet, man.

What?

- Can I have some now, son?
- Gaggin', huh?

Gents is down there to the right.

- Your old fella, is it?
- Yeah.

- (Brenda) Such a surprise.
- What is?

All this new shit.
Your mum, your dad, the falling out.

- What about it?
- Nothing.

I'm just saying
you're fairly enigmatic.

- Well...
- What?

That's me way, man.

Oh, yeah, very good.

I doubt your delivery has the weight
of the Reaper's.

Fuckin' "reaper"!
Tell me you don't believe that shit.

No, I don't. But I believe he does.

And I think you owe it to him,
if you don't mind my saying.

And to your mum, and to yourself,
to get over yourself.

- "Get over myself"?
- Yes.

And do what he asked you to do.

- Go down?
- Yeah.

Go see her and all of you
make your fucking peace!

Course, you're only gonna do
what you want to do.

What the fuck are you doing?

Oh, fuck! Get down!

Lads... lads, if we could just
take a minute...

Look, I'm really sorry...

Come on out, lads.
We won't go near youse.

Yeah?
Swear on your granny's grave?

Didn't fuckin' think so.

Fuck!

Don't kill them, man!

Trying to take them alive, aren't we?

Lads! Refrain from shootin' this way,
will youse?

You sold us out, you cunt?

Yeah, sorry, Michael.
Bit of cash involved.

The fuck are you lookin' at, bitch!

Fuckin'...

(Michael) What the fuck are you doing?
(Perrier) The fuck is she up to?

(Michael) Bren!

OK...

Fuck!

(Brenda grunting)

- What the fuck are you doin'?
- (Brenda) Michael...

- Michael!
- Get them!

(Ivan) Fucking coward's hiding
behind his bitch, Darren.

(Brenda) Go, go, go!

No! Fuck!

Wait! I have to go back.
I have to go back for my da, man!

No, no, they don't know who he is.

He's just some guy, he's safe.
Come on. Come on!

Bren! I've been lookin'
all over the place for you.

(Ivan) Fuck!

- Can we talk?
- Just shut up and drive!

(Shamie) What's going on?

They've gone, man!

- Poor Clifford, eh?
- Yeah, devastating, isn't it?

Victor, listen.
Go down and nab his coke, will ya?

Yeah, boss.

See if we can salvage a bit of good
from this...tragedy.

I thought you said
you were gonna nab them.

Yeah, I know. What we did
was fuckin' lose them.

So did we.

- They were here?
- Two fuckin' minutes ago.

Well, listen. Was wonderin'
if maybe we could pool resources?

- You know, forget the bounty.
- What?

We've reasons of our own for wantin'
to nab the fuck. What say?

- What the fuck?
- (Jerome) Heel.

- Get down, Achilles!
- Achilles, you call him?

Yeah.
You know, the invincible fuck?

I do.
Invincible except for his heel, yeah?

except for his weak spot.

What's his, man, his head?

High falutin' fuckin' names, man!

Achilles, no! Apollo!

You motherf...

Now, do you wanna mourn your doggies
or do you wanna join them?

Are youse right,
before the guards fuckin' arrive?

Darren...
Hold on a sec, will you?

(Shamie) I made a mistake.
I was confused.

You know, I was suddenly scared
of where we were goin'.

But losin' you, Bren,

or the prospect of it,
really put shit into perspective.

- What about that girl?
- Nothing! A guide, man.

(Brenda) "A guide"?
(Shamie) On the path to perspective.

On the road to realisin' that
I wanna be with you forever.

I really do.

Forgive me, Bren, please.

I'm so fucking sorry.

Come back to me.

- Sorry, Shamie. The spark's gone.
- Spark?

Oh, good, man. Very good.

Referrin' to...? Yeah.

Shut the fuck up!

And try and take it like a man,
you prick, you.

Up your holes, man!

I hope youse fuckin' die!

Youse can suck each other's
fuckin' cocks for all I care!

I mean, I'm a lover of dogs,

but they left me no alternative,
you know?

Yeah.

Can't deny it's left me
a little bit melancholic, though.

A bit ripped apart.

So, The Mutt...

- You plannin' on havin' a bit of McCrea?
- Nah, all we want's our money, man.

We get it, and we go,

secured in the knowledge
he'll be chastised as befits him.

- How much did he take, man?
- Thirty grand.

(Snorting)

So you can understand me tenacity,
me yen for the fucker's capture.

That's not to belittle any yen
of your own, or of Ivan's...

I've a yen all right.

Which will be satisfied
in due fuckin' course, man.

(Grunting)

Hey, fuckhead!

Stay the fuck awake.

We'll be makin' that call
in a minute.

(Phone rings)

- (Jim) 'Michael?'
- Yeah, where are you?

'Perrier's gaff, son.'

Sorry.

- Fuckin' Mutt's here as well.
- Yeah? What do they want?

'Want you, son. You and Bren.
But listen...'

I'm gonna take a nap now, yeah?

So, if you come, I'll be asleep
when you get here, are you with me?

'Michael?'

'Michael?'

I love you, Da.

I love you too.

Yeah, look, I fucked it all up...

No...

'I did. You and ma.
I'm so fuckin' sorry, Da...'

- "I'm so fuckin' sorry, Da! "
- Put him fuckin' back on!

I'll kill him now,
you don't shut the fuck up.

'Now, a few items I want you
to bring with you, yeah?'

First, the chick who did the deed, man.

Second, the cash
you ripped off The Mutt.

And last but not least...

...Orlando's body, right?

- 'You know Danlands?'
- Yeah.

Well, that's where we are.
You've an hour, man.

(Snoring)

Believe this old fuck?

Listen to me. Don't go up there.

They're going to kill him anyway.
Are you fucking stupid? Don't go!

If you go, then you'll both be dead.
OK?

You fucking know that.
Don't go!

It was never just
"putting up with you", Bren.

Never, you understand?

I loved every minute of it.

Fuck! God!

Yeah?

Come on, mate.

Ah, come fucking on!

(Car horn)

(Dogs barking)

Da?
Get back up, you fuck!

(Snoring)

Da?

So, where's your bitch?

Vacated, man.

- Orlando's body?
- Buried.

You believe the insouciance
of this fuck?

How the fuck you gonna make a trade
if you've nothin' to make a trade with?

I've meself.

Hmm...

That's far from enough to earn
your old man a reprieve, McCrea.

(Perrier) Did youse pat him down?
(Victor) Yeah.

Even his packet?

His packet?

You need to be more thorough.

Often a dude will stash a piece
in his briefs, man...

...hopin' the frisker will overlook it.

Which you did.

(Hank) Good one, Darren.

Now, your da's gonna die tonight,
McCrea, all right?

That's a foregone fuckin' conclusion.

But he's gonna die post-haste,

whereas you, man...

...you're gonna suffer
for what you did to Ivan's lover.

His lover?

You say that as if you've a problem
with that kinda thing.

I don't.

I think he thinks
you're a fuckin' abomination, Ivan.

He's the abomination.

You're the abomination, McCrea,
with your fuckin' intolerance, am I right?

And your ignorance.

Sure you're only
a fuckin' murderin' fascist!

You gonna do a Maurice Joyce on him?

I am.

(Perrier) What it is, McCrea,
he severs your mickey...

I know what a Maurice Joyce is.

Really? Word gets around, I'm delighted!
Can we get on with it?

Get the fuck off me!

Hold onto his legs, please!

Get the fuck off me!

Get his undies off!

- Darren?
- Ivan... One sec, sorry.

Er...any chance
we can get our money first?

- Not up for the hairy shit, no?
- (The Mutt) Yeah, sorry.

Fair enough.
No need to apologise. Ivan!

- Would you give us a minute?
- The blood's up, Darren.

- Wait!
- Yeah...

(Hank) Don't worry, McCrea.
You'll get your Maurice Joyce.

- (Michael) Fuck off!
- Sorry...

How the fuck do you think
I acquired me wealth?

By passin' up opportunity?

(Gunshot)

Not fuckin' likely.

(The Mutt) Darren...

- No beggin', now.
- I beg you!

(Perrier) He begs me!
(The Mutt) Please!

What did I say, you fuck?
Gimme that.

You tell him one thing...

- (Kenny) Get back here, you fuck!
- The ricochets, Kenny, fuck!

- You nearly fuckin' killed me!
- Darren...

Mind me valuables, yeah?

- Sorry, Darren.
- You sap!

What did I tell you?
Dump those fuckers!

That way!

(Hank) Fuck, he's a heavy bastard!

(Kenny) Dump them in the porter's skip,
we'll deal with them later.

(Hank) We're on it.

- Was there a hole in The Mutt's jacket?
- Yes.

Ah, burn it. Snap out of it, Ivan.

(Michael) All right, fuckhead!

All right?

Take your guns out and drop them.

Jesus. Cool, man.

- Keep your mellow, yeah?
- Yeah, I'm keepin' fuckin' mellow.

Now, ever so slowly,
that's it, ever so gently,

place them on the...
That's it.

Good.

Right, you. Get that bag.

Now! Move it!

Yeah, and the blade too.

Yeah. Give it here.

Get up there.

- We'll track you down, McCrea.
- Yeah?

Up against the wall.
Come on!

Right, get down on your knees.

Get down on your knees!

You can run, but...

Yeah, I know. "But I can't hide."
Is that it?

Well, maybe I should do you now,
then I won't have to worry about it.

Go for it.

- Get down, man.
- No.

- The fuck are you doin', Kenny?
- I'm callin' this screwhead's bluff.

I reckon he hasn't got the grits...

- Fuck's sake, Kenny.
-...the machismo to kill a dude.

Me fuckin' leg!

You're a dildo, Kenny.

Put your hands on your head!

(Kenny) The agony, man!

All right, Da? It's just me, Da.

I'm getting you out of here.
All right?

Peek out of any one of youse,

and I'll murder the lot of youse,
you hear me?

I swear to fuck.

Fucking warning you!

Told you!

Wait!

- I need a doctor, Darren!
- Shut up, Kenny.

(Hank) The fuck are you doin', Darren?

As if I wouldn't have
an old AK lyin' around.

Da? Da?

I'm alive!
I'm alive, sweet fuck!

Michael!

Where the fuck's the Reaper now, huh?

No, no, no!

He's here, son.

He's just a bit fuckin' late.

The cunt!

Da?

Da? Da?

Da?

No! Dad!

No!

(Ivan) Me fuckin' hand!

Never has anyone given me
so much grief, man.

Good.

Anyway, any last words
before I do you?

Yeah...

What?

Don't.

I'm sorry, Michael.

Man, the fuck is this?

The fuck is goin' on?

(Dogs barking)

This is the Savage
Canine Vernacular, man...

...and they've a bone or two
to pick tonight

on behalf of their fallen comrades,
Achilles and Apollo.

We're puttin' an end to you,
Perrier. Your regime.

- Me what?
- (Jerome) Shut the fuck up!

You ready, boys?

- (All) Yeah!
- Wait...

Then hoose away.

(All) Hoose! Hoose!
Hoose! Hoose!

Hoose! Hoose! Hoose!

Hoose! Hoose!
Hoose! Hoose!

(Perrier) Wait! Wait!

(Perrier screaming)

Hey.

Hey.

We're takin' you down
to Derek Dawson, Michael.

The best.

- What is he, a doctor?
- A vet, man.

- A vet?
- The best in the fuckin' business.

He is.
You hear me, Michael?

Dawson. The best.

Overhaul you in no time, yeah?

(Michael) He said that this was
where those who lived and died

by the sword were buried.

And in his last few hours
that's certainly what he did.

Anyway...

...no better companions
could he have in death

than Achilles and Apollo, man...

...keep him company on his way to...

...I dunno, Valhalla or somethin'.

- Amen.
- Amen.

What can you say
that his moniker didn't?

- Wotcha think?
- (Russ) Achilles...

-...feel its texture, its power, it's...
- I think I'm in love with you.

(Michael) What?

- Man, that's the rebound talkin'.
- No, it's not.

...savage yet tender...

(Michael) I love you too, Bren.
(Brenda) Do you?

Crazy love, like. Yes, I do...

...wild yet devoted...

- (Michael) Is your love crazy?
- Yeah, I think it is.

Ah, come on, lads.

We didn't talk over
your fuckin'...eulogy.

Sorry, lads.

In the haunch,
the power of the jaw...

...the snap...

(Dogs whining)

(Michael) Fuckin' typical.

First thing I have to do is tell her
her husband's dead.

- How's the leg?
- Fucked, man.

Fuckin' vet, I swear.

(Brenda) Yeah, well if it wasn't for him,
you'd be jail.

(Michael) Yeah...

Your mum must love this place.

- Can I ask you something?
- Yeah.

Do you think
he was telling the truth?

- Who, me da?
- Yeah.

Do you think he was right,
about the Reaper?

I dunno.

(Narrator) 'Pertinent question, though,
isn't it?

'Cos if Jim's death was indeed foretold,

'then wouldn't that suggest
that we're not alone?

'And that each of us is indeed significant
in this vast and degenerate cosmos?

'I'm sure you'll agree
that's a soothin' fuckin' notion, man.

'A happy notion.

'But what's to become of Michael?

'I mean, is he doomed to remain
the dude he was?

'A perpetual waster,

'forever to be ruled by fear
and confusion and anger?

'Or has he, after all the harrowin' shit
he's endured and overcome,

'come out the other side a better man?

'An enlightened man?

'I'm afraid that's somethin' that
remains to be seen, my friend.

'See, there's certain things
I like to leave obscure and enigmatic.

'And why?

'Cos that's me way, man.

'That's me way.'