All language subtitles for I.Stand.Alone.1998.480p.x264-mSD

Haruskah saya menunjukkan moral saya?

Won't you be sorry?
- I'm not sure.

I think you'll be afraid.
This is my moral.

There's the moral.

Do you know why I have this?

Because Mr. Moral there in his uniform...

...always wins.

Him and his damn moral.

And I...
This is my justice.

Whether you're right...

...or wrong...

...it doesn't matter man.

Les Cinemas de la Zone present:

The drama of a butcher alone
in the guts of his land.

Everyone his own life, everyone his moral.
If I would summarize my life...

...my life is like that of a loser.
They should write that down.

The story of man
like so many others.

It all started in France,
land of cheese and traitors.

The man was born near Paris
in 1939.

In 1941 his mother abandoned him.
He has never seen her again.

On liberation day the boy
finds out who his father is.

A communist who died
in one of the concentration camps.

He's six years old now.
His mental struggle begins.

His innocence was stolen from him
in the name of Jesus as he was raised.

To be able to survive the boy
becomes a butcher at 14.

The next ten years he works
for various people...

...saving every cent
for his own business.

Which he gets when he's 30.
It's difficult at first...

...but after two years
the shop is running well.

Well he makes a living out of it.
He meets a young factory worker...

...and takes her virginity from her in
the l'Avenir Hotel across from the factory.

From there on it goes fast.

Nine months later he will be father of
Cynthia, a baby unwanted by the mother.

He is once again abandoned and is
left to bring up his daughter alone.

Years pass by.
The shop is fine.

The butcher buys an apartment
where the daughter grows up to be mute.

Her adolescence starts.
She's becoming a woman.

The father, still single,
has to fight his lust.

That's when fate strikes.
The girl has her first period.

In unknown pain
she runs off to the shop.

On the way there a worker tries
to seduce her.

A neighbour sees it happen
and takes her to her father.

The father sees the blood on her skirt
and thinks she's been raped.

He gets a knife
and goes to find the rapist.

The man sees a worker on a dock

The butcher slashes the man's
face with the knife.

The butcher goes to jail for that.
The girl is put in an institution.

The father occasionally writes
his daughter. Months pass.

The butcher has to sell the apartment
and the butcher shop.

Finally the butcher is free again
but without any possessions.

To survive, the man
becomes a bartender.

He soon becomes his boss's lover. She
gets pregnant and want to sell the bar...

...to start a new life
in an other town.

She even has enough money
to rent a butcher shop.

The man has no choice.

For the first time he visits
his daughter.

He tells her goodbye.
She sees him leave but says nothing.

The next day the man drives out of
Paris with his wife...

...hoping to escape the dark tunnel
that is his life.

In Lille they move in with
the woman's mother...

...until they find a house and a shop.

Compared to Paris the streets
up North seem abandoned and grey.

For the first time the man
feels like a stranger.

He sees projections of his
dead father.

But the butcher is like everyone else
A being that wants to survive.

He then decides to forget about his past
and betrayal of his daughter.

Just like his love for her. Well,
love is a bit too strong.

Not many people can say
they have truly known love.

So this man is me.
This has been my life so far.

But today starts my new life.
I'm starting all over again.

Yes ladies and gentlemen.
Today I'm erasing my past.

SUBURBAN LILLE, NORTHERN FRANCE
JANUARY 3RD 1980

Good night children.
- Good night mum.

Excuse me.

That's the side my father used
to sleep on.

Aren't you warm enough already?

She'd better keep calm.
Her and her kid.

If she keeps nagging like this
I'll blow her head off. Well not just her head.

Are we going to have a look
at the shop tomorrow?

Yeah.

Yeah I like it.

But it's a bit expensive.

The transaction has to be
ten percent cheaper.

And so does the rent.

On your account?

No, on mine

It was a bad place.

I'd rather keep my money
until after the pregnancy.

That wasn't what we agreed on.
What will we do until then?

You can take up a temporary job.
Come on.

Thanks.

''Wanted: Pork butcher''

Look. They're looking for a butcher.

I'm not a pork butcher.

It'll be easier than having a shop.

Yes, you're right.

What are you doing?

I don't feel like it. It's my money.
I'm pregnant and you can shut up.

Exactly.

Damn sausage. Damn wine.
Damn family in a boring city.

It's all turned out to be very nice.
A new shop.

A nice new life.

But filthy as they are...

...I wouldn't be surprised
when the inspection would drop by.

It's what happens when one gets old.

Lose your sense of smell and sight,
and get dirty.

But that fat cow has
no excuse.

And are your parents still alive?

I told you he is an orphan.

Oh, sorry.

You should smile.

Do you understand?

To get the customers to buy a lot.

We're in a supermarket,
with music and everything.

Everyone should feel comfortable.
You see?

Just smile for me.

Put some effort in it. Smile.

Forget it. Just go.

Come on.

Fool.

Coming here and begging for a job.

What? You could be a pork butcher?

What did you think? That you could
sit in front of the TV forever?

If you weren't so stingy we'd
already have the store.

So shut up.

To win in Roubaix you'd have to
be in top shape.

And you'd have to know where to
ride.

You shouldn't go along
with the anonymous herd.

He's here. My son-in-law.
Doctor Choukroune.

We were just talking
about your problems.

They're looking for a night guard
at the old people's home where he works.

Your mother-in-law explained
everything to me.

If this can't help you...

...I'll give you the number and address
of the home...

...so you can contact them.

Goodbye, Sir.

Right, the tart thinks I'm the guard
at an old people's home.

Shall I wipe her ass too
while I'm at it?

On the other hand... If I work at night
I won't have to see their ugly mugs.

Have you done night-time work before?
- Not really.

It may seem easy but after a while
it could drive you insane.

Have you worked in a home before?

It's a dump.

Actually it's not that much fun.

It's strange you know, you think it's
going to be over for them soon...

...but the things that
happen behind those doors...

Well, you'll see.

This is your office.

I've been here for two weeks now.

I haven't felt this good since
I got out of prison.

This place isn't worse than jail.
On the contrary. Except for the stench.

Old people smell terrible.

OLD PEOPLE'S HOME, DEBUSSY
MARCH 18TH 1980, 4 AM

I can't stand those
two old bags in their flat.

They shouldn't think I'm
a wimp.

But the old cow's rich...

...and she thinks because of
that she can do anything.

That's how it is.
Everyone's fighting for their money...

...and their steak.
And no one will do it for you.

Have you been to the doctor's?
- No.

A woman is choking.
Can you help me. Quick.

Yeah, I don't know...

Quick.

Hold her hand.

Daddy...

Don't leave me alone.

Everything's all dark.

Death opens no doors.

In the end death is nothing special.

Everyone makes a big deal out of it.

But from a close view
It's nothing serious.

A lifeless body, that's all.

People are just like animals.

You love them,
you bury them, that's it.

Even thought this is the
first time I see it.

Evidently it's her first time too.

She sure looks devastated.

While it's so damn boring.

OK, I'll take her home.

She sure looks fragile.
And pretty cute, too.

Let me walk you home.

She reminds me of my daughter.

My Cynthia.

She must be very lonely
wherever she is now.

Come.

But loneliness means nothing.

Living with a guy or a girl
or even with kids...

...but you're still alone.

I'm alone.
And so is she.

We are born alone,
live our lives alone and die alone.

Alone, forever alone.

Even when fucking we're alone.

Alone with our body
Alone with our life...

...which is like a tunnel,
impossible to share.

Over the years it only gets worse...

...only leaving memories of a life
that's slowly deteriorating.

Look, Mrs. Fabienne.

What is she doing here?

Damn, we're there already.

Strange... whenever I like a girl,
I mess it up.

Even when they want me.
She definitely does.

But I bet she has a boyfriend.
All girls have boyfriends somewhere.

Life is a tunnel. Everyone has his
own little tunnel.

Only there is no light at the end.

It is a void.
Even memories will be gone.

The old people do know this.
They live a simple life.

They have small pensions
and a small grave.

And it's all completely useless.

Even having children.

When you're old and poor
they will put you in a home...

...to let you suffer in silence.

They don't care.
They don't love their parents.

It's a myth. You only love your
mother when she feeds you.

And your father when he gives you money.

Once her breasts are all
dried out...

...or when your father's pockets
are empty, better put them away...

...and hope they'll die a
quick and cheap death.

It's the law of life.

Only when there's an inheritance
the children pretend to be nice.

But for a fridge or TV there is,
no need to play nice guy.

Maybe just the bare minimum,
for ease of mind.

Call them every other month...

a couple of tears at the funeral
and you've done your duty.

Love and friendship. It's all
full of shit

Illusions from your youth,
to cover up the fact...

...that all human relationships
are redundant.

Sure friendship and love are useful,
only when they're beneficiary .

Reality is much more corrupted.

You love your mother because she
feeds you so you stay alive.

Your friend because he helps you get
a job so you stay alive.

Your wife because she cooks for you
and relieves you of your sperm...

...and gives you children
to look after you when you're old...

...and afraid to die.

But punish your child once
and it'll retaliate when you're old.

The punishment...

...will be their tool.
When they put you in a home...

...that will be their excuse to
hide their disinterest...

that we all have
toward our up bringers.

No, I don't like the baby they're
trying to let me have.

And I'm sure the baby
will think the same.

No, fucking is definitely
misunderstood.

It's even damn expensive.

But well, it's a pastime.

When you don't want to fuck no more
that's when you know your time is up.

And that it's all been the
same in this life.

Merely a reproduction code
that's been imprinted on us...

that we think we should obey.

Thanks.

Being born against your will. Eat.

Wave your dick around.
Make new life. Die.

Life is one big void. It's always been
and it'll always be.

A large void that can do
just fine without me.

I don't want to play that game
anymore. Not in this life.

I want to experience something personal,
something intense.

I don't want to be the final replaceable
part of a giant machine.

The day I die I want to
have done more...

...than the shit millions of fuckers
have done together.

Look at it like this:

Every sucker's done the same things
that I did.

I don't know.
I must find a reason...

...an excuse or whatever
to find the motivation...

...to go on another 20 years.
Until I die.

Should I start my life all over
I'd want to make porn movies.

It's all clear.
The people who do that...

...understand the human race.

Either you're born with a cock
which has to be...

...a big hard dick
filling snatches.

Or you're born with a pussy
which has to be filled with cock.

In both scenarios you'll still be alone.

Yeah, I'm a dick.
That's it.

I'm a sad, sad dick...

...and to earn some respect
I must be hard all the time.

But with the fat cow
I can't do it anymore.

I'd rather take
the old tart.

Or a threesome.
Me, Mother, Daughter.

I bet they'd like it too,
those perverted sluts.

Both getting a good fucking
on daddy's bed.

Cow would freak out.

Tower complex Pablo Picasso
That night around 10:30 PM

Where the hell have you been?

So have you fucked her?

Have you fucked her?
- What?

Do I need to spell it out?

What did Fabienne tell me?

She's seen you this morning
together with some slut.

I haven't done anything.
- Oh haven't you?

I didn't feel like returning
to this hell hole.

Well off you go then. Fuck off.
- I certainly will.

Fine. I'll finally have my
child to myself.

Turning him into a queer.
- Like his daddy.

Faggot.

What did you call me?
- Half faggot.

Stupid bitch. Take that.
- You're a stupid bitch yourself.

What?
- You're a stupid bitch yourself.

I'm going to hit you in the fucking
face stupid old bitch.

Piece of shit!

I'm getting the gun.
- What?

The gun.
- What gun?

Where did you get a gun?
- My husband.

Where's that gun?

Where is it?
- Over there.

Where, over there?
- Over there in the closet.

What closet?

The small one?
- Yes.

Bitch.

Mama...

My baby...

My baby, mama.

I don't have it.

He killed my baby.

I'm calling the police.

That bitch. She's sneaky.

Really sneaky.

Keep calm. Calm, calm.

I have to get out of this
damn place.

My baby, mama.

What baby, your baby's nothing
but a meatball. Meat.

At least he should be lucky not
to see your god damn face.

My baby... my baby...

Mama, my baby...

Asshole! Fucker! Son of a bitch!

Those bitches are crazy enough to
call the cops.

Maybe they already have.

After my beating she's probably
shitting out the foetus on the carpet.

That could mean trouble.

I have no idea how many years
they'd give me for that.

She could call it murder,
even when she started it.

Dammit. What should I do now?

Not that I feel sorry.
The kid is better off dead...

...than being stuck with
those two.

I bet the cow's going to be sick.

Yeah. I better not go back.

Not tonight. Never again

It's over.
I'm better off on my own...

...than to have to see those two.

I'm not responsible for
all the misery in the world.

No. I'm starting all over,
alone, in Paris.

If it means I'll have to be an asshole
that's how it is then.

A downright asshole.

I can do it.

It's the only way to win.

I've lost too much damn time.

Besides I have a gun now.

I hope you like good music.

I'll take you along to Northern Paris.
Okay?

Damn Paris can be dull...

...but the rest's even worse.

How can people live in such
a place for their entire lives?

Those peasants are probably
totally different from me.

Okay. Yet another chapter in the
life of our poor man.

How he got out of two
spiders' webs.

I feel better already.
Left all that crap behind now.

I don't know how to survive
on just 300 Francs.

First I need shelter.
Besides, I've got friends.

Well I have to see about that.

At least I'm around
real people again.

Somehow I get the lucky feeling
I should go with my instincts.

Have to be careful not
to run into the police.

I bet the cow's playing
poor old casualty by now.

She might have told some of my
Parisian friends even.

Yeah, I'll have to watch my step.

At least the police will
never find me here.

I was in a nightclub.
There she was. We looked at each other.

Could you give me the room on 2nd floor
the one with a view of the street?

Have you been here before?
- Fifteen years ago.

Room number 26.

60 Francs a night. Paid in advance.

After that you pay me 60 Francs for
each additional night.

...I could eat her up.
I couldn't stop.

She started banging and wanking.

I went at it like a raging bull.

And she screamed. I fucked her to pieces.

An incredible evening.

Your room, Sir.

So I'll pay for tonight...

...and we'll see about tomorrow.

Very well.

It's strange to be back
in this room again.

Standing in front of the bed
my daughter was made in.

Her mum sure was a fine shag.

If I'd known that she'd
abandon me and the girl...

...I wouldn't have popped.

But there's no way back. I blew
my load and now I have a daughter.

Even though her mother is dead...

...I still have my memories
of all the afternoons on this bed.

A real woman is beautiful.

But most of them are cranky
because they don't have a cock.

For fuck's sake...

...the woman left me and the kid
for a Portuguese guy.

Women can be so damn pitiful.

Because they don't have a dick
they feel superior to men...

...when betraying him with another
cock. Especially when he's richer.

After having shagged her...

...the prince threw her out
like rotten cheese.

She'd been mean, but clever enough
to realize that she had.

The past always retaliates.

You always pay for what you've done.

And if she threw herself in front of
the subway

...I couldn't help it.

She got what she deserved.

Jesus Christ, being broke isn't easy.

But having no one to rely on
that's what's really harsh.

The less you have,
the more you are ignored.

I can always tell them I'm a father,
that I had my own shop. That I'm a good person.

The hotel owner,
my so-called friend...

...the bartender,
they don't care.

When they see you're broke
they just kick you out.

In the most humiliating way.

Instead of helping a guy out
of his troubles...

...they kiss some rich man's ass
and hope for some money.

That's why they're always
talking bullshit

I'd rather be poor and honest.

Someone please give me a job
so I can buy my steak.

Other than that leave me alone.
Not exactly happiness but it'll do.

How stupid of me to visit
on closing day.

I wonder who I can mooch off next...

No I won't do it.
I won't lower my standards to begging.

Need to have some self respect.

I could always sell the gun tomorrow

Should be good for 200 to 300 Francs.

Morning. A cup of coffee please.

Can I have a cup of coffee please?

For mint tea try across from here.

I didn't ask for mint tea.

Didn't get my supply today.
- You've already served some people.

I just told you I didn't
get my supply today.

How stupid.

You've just told me you didn't get
your delivery but did serve some.

Be polite. You're here at my place.
- I am being polite.

And I'm not at your place, I'm at a bar.
Please serve me.

Listen, I do respect you.
- You have to serve me.

Don't give me trouble.

Get your brown ass out of here.

You should go back and see...

...your old butcher shop.

Why?

Well, the Arab's fantastic.

The shop's always full.
Sometimes he can't serve everyone.

To think about how your life changed.
You were pretty good.

How come you ended up like this?

You look terrible.

Yeah.
- Well that's easy: I don't have a job.

Too bad. And it'll only get worse.

Thanks a lot.

Let me tell you what to do.

Go to the employment office.

You look kind of pale to me.

Unless you want to end up
in the gutter...

...you'll have to do something.
Get a grip on life again.

What kind of work would you like?
- I'm a butcher.

We have no butcher work right now.
- What about pork butchers?

Same situation.

Please come back again in a while.

Thanks.

You... I'm sure
you like to have fun.

Of course.

Well...

Wait...

I'll take you somewhere.

What does that guy want?

Is he a fag or just jealous
that she wants my dick?

Why not. She's not my type
but I can't refuse.

She looks young. And hot.

I hope I can get it up.
If not...

...I can always say that it's
because I'm a sentimental guy.

What's going on?

I've beaten up little
sluts before.

It's an exchange, you know?

I mean... I'm going to give you energy.

And warmth.

It's an exchange
of fluids...

...even though our energy
has a different colour...

You're not going to give me money.
Are you?

Am I right? Yeah?
You're going to give me energy.

Because I'll give you energy.

Do you agree?

You do agree, right?

Show me your arm.

You feel nice.

Look, I'm getting hard.

Papa...

You won't hurt me, will you?

Come.

Yes, come.

If she had let me have my way.

But no. Complete misery.

A bitch.

They're all the same.

Same position,
same scene, same stench.

And I've even paid for it.

This is not good, butcher man.
This is not good at all.

Wake up. Quick.

I'm going to look up old Roland.
He's always been my best customer.

I hope he hasn't retired.
He always wanted to.

I bet good old Roland's
saved some money.

I hope that slut hasn't
given me an STD .

That's the only thing missing,
a dick covered in pus.

Last time was in the army,
thank God.

No I can't.
It's always this or that.

We can't live like this.

But he's a friend isn't he?

He is. But there are more
friends in the world.

Especially when they ask for favours.

That's life.
- Tell him I dropped by.

I will.
But I don't know if he'll be happy.

You've come at a bad time.
I cannot help you with money.

Not even 200 Francs?
- Want me to empty my pockets?

No, don't.

I can give you some food though.
- No thanks.

I can give you a place to sleep
every now and then.

If you want. One or two days.

I'll be fine.

I'm really broke you know.

I loaned some money from a guy who
was like a son to me.

He hasn't given it back yet.

Worst of all I'm on welfare.

I can't afford to be in a home.

You know what I'm like.
I'd do it if I could.

But feel free to drop by any time.
If you want.

You'll always get some bread.

How's your daughter?

Fine.

Yeah, OK.

You have to fight for her.

I've always lived like this.
I've always struggled.

I don't have much.
Like I said, welfare.

Feel free to drop by any time.

There'll always be a piece of
bread for you.

Life is a battle, each and every day.

You must fight. And show stamina.

Keep this in mind.

It's the same for me. I fight.

Like I've always done.

Try and get your way out of it.

You're like me.
Born under an unlucky star.

There's rich people and there's poor people.
The poor people have to suffer.

We're part of the poor.

Please visit me again,
I'd like it.

I hope it will be under better
circumstances.

Yeah. Just about enough for a sandwich.
And still.

Ham or cheese. Not both,
and no butter.

It's hot in here.

What am I to do tomorrow?

I can't beg.
Not at my age.

And certainly not in my neighbourhood

Ah, I love my country.

France.

Poor France. Struck
by all misery in the world.

No more factories, no more work.
Only ruins and jobless people.

Damn, I'm hungry.
Not a shop in sight.

Not in a mile from here either.
Might as well stay here.

Save me some money
for food tomorrow.

I'd better go to sleep.
When asleep one forgets his hunger.

Maybe I won't even be hungry
tomorrow.

Sorry, I'm having some problems
running the store.

I'm nearly bankrupt.
Try Antoine's.

Maybe he can help.

I can't do anything for you.
All I can do is give you a steak.

I can't hire you.

What if you...
- No, I can't help you.

But you know the abattoir's
director.

France Chevaline?
- Yes, go ask at the abattoir.

It's terrible.
There's no work to be done.

We hardly sell anything.

I just had to fire someone.

I couldn't afford keeping him.
We're in a crisis.

Listen...

I hate to ask...

...but can you loan me some money?
For a couple of days. Until I find work.

I'm a month behind on the pay checks.
A month!

Can you imagine?

The abattoir was looking for people.
Give it a go.

Try it. Go and see them.

Life is so damn selfish.

Surviving is a genetic law.

It's not right to ask my former
supplier for a job.

Especially if I open up a
store myself later.

Well, that's hardly likely.

Ah it's the least they can do for
me after everything I bought from them.

I think the director liked me.

Even though being nice to one's customers
doesn't mean that much.

In case there is work for me they would
prefer a butcher like me.

I hope he won't ask about the
Arab that took over my store.

When will you pay for the room?
- I'm going to get money.

Dammit.

I'll blow his brains out
if he doesn't stop.

What? It's nothing to be ashamed of.

I have nothing to lose.
I'll go all the way.

I'll do it for the money.
Killing horses may not be...

...exactly much fun,
but it relieves me.

Yeah.

A good steak is what I need.

We've met before.
I used to be a customer, remember?

And you went bankrupt.

Yes.

But anyways...

...butchering horses is easier
than running a butcher shop.

That's partly true.
Listen.

We might need some butchers later.
Have you filled out the forms?

Yes I have.

I don't see your age.
- 50.

Good. Do you have a record?

Yeah. No... I don't.

I've been in prison for
a couple of days.

It was a mistake.

I thought someone had assaulted
my daughter.

I should probably tell you
I've spoken with more candidates.

And this is not just my decision.

Listen, this is what you should do.

Call my secretary...
start next month.

Can't you hire me sooner?

If it were only up to me...

...it would've been done already.

Thank you.

Sorry for keeping you from your work.
- No problem.

What? A queer that treats me like this?
I must be dreaming.

Like I didn't know his wife
ran way from him...

...because one of his employees
was fucking him in the ass.

All horse butchers know
that Blanchat loves cocks.

He sure has a good dose of self-esteem
for a damn faggot.

I bet his father was
just like him.

Why are so many rich people gay?
Must be the lack of physical labour.

They're complete slackers.
That messes up their genes.

Yeah that's it.
French and their France Chevaline.

It's an insult to us that this
asshole is a Frenchman.

If we're being controlled by these people
we must be a nation of rich bastards.

The fancier their clothes the worse they are.

Form my ass. I should've slapped
him in the face right away.

I should've kicked in his brains.
Asking about my record.

Does this fuck think I'm
some kind of leper?

He should go to prison and find out
what the real world's made of.

But rich people never go to jail.
Maybe one or two every ten year.

Jail is for the poor.
And laws are for the rich.

The poor can't steal.
Only be stolen from and fucked over.

Not a problem.
And the white collars...

...can take our money, happiness
and dignity from us.

Each day these frauds
and their sons...

...have their hands in your pockets
and your ass.

Yours, your wife's, your kid's.
And they'll make you smile even.

OK I'll smile.
But after that: Revenge.

That's what I enjoy most.

France needs people like
Robespierre.

Not those wimps that
are our government.

It's been like that in the country
for centuries. That or worse.

Everyone's too gay
for revolution.

Now all that's left is revenge.

Yeah, like me. And I'll make it
better for everyone.

If Robespierre was a national hero
so will I...

...on a small scale,
by killing all those pigs...

...that don't want to give me
a job because I was in jail.

Does he want me to become a lowlife
that sucks his dick for a dime?

I'll show him real violence.

The 50 years of humiliation
that I've had...

...he'll get in six minutes.
Six minutes of pure agony.

Unfortunately he won't be
able to learn from the experience.

His family will pay the price.
And his friends.

Rich people always have friends.

I have no friends.
Only my gun.

Look, a bar.
I'll drink to that fucker...

...that doesn't know he just signed
his own death certificate.

Yeah, I've got some money left.
About eleven Francs.

I know what tomorrow will be like.

I'll wait for him tomorrow night,.
at the gate, and follow him.

The moment he sees me he gets scared.

He speeds up his pace when
I get closer.

How are you? Finished your work for today?

It must be exhausting to refuse
giving people a job all day.

Boy you sure know how to humiliate
people form behind your desk.

You do remember me, right?

You have a house, a car, clothes
and your money in the bank.

Of the 35 years I've worked
I have nothing left.

All that's left of my life
isn't what's on your form...

...it's my gun.
Oh, you're not used to guns.

Well, I'm not used to cash.

I would've wanted a normal
life myself.

After 35 years of work and honesty...

...my supplier treats me like
I'm a criminal.

OK, Mr. Boss. I've lost.

I'm a piece of shit.
But I do have a gun.

I'm not afraid.
I have the last word.

I'll put the gun to his neck
and watch his gay face twitch.

Shitting yourself yet?
Why are you such a wimp?

Because I'm jobless?
Or is it my record?

Do you know what the jobless says?

Fuck you.
Of all races in the world...

...one must go.
Can you guess which?

Yours. Assholes and
traitors.

I'll raise my gun and blow his
brains out. Are you listening now?

And I'll shoot again.
I can hear him scream: No! No!

How's that, Mr. Boss?

Life can be violent.
You didn't expect this, did you?

How much do I owe you?
- 12 Francs.

How about 11.20?

What's wrong with you?

Do you want to suck my dick?

Do you want to suck my dick?

Poor sod.

Nigger fag.

I said: Nigger fag.

Get the fuck out.
- I didn't do anything wrong.

Did you hear me? Off you go.
- I didn't do anything.

Fuck of.
- I didn't do anything!

Get the fuck out, asshole.
- Don't piss me off.

Do you see this gun?
Leave my son alone.

I won't shoot you in the ass
but in the head, punk.

Piss off.

Piss off or I'll blow your brains out.

It's OK.

It's OK.

Pussy.

You don't understand shit.
Whose bitch are you?

Piss off asshole.
He's crazy.

This fucker thinks he runs the show.

Where did he come from?
- He's drunk.

The barkeeper was nice enough
just to wave his gun around.

I would've pulled the trigger.

You're a tough one.
- An alcoholic.

Another round, barkeep.

Just one?
- Yeah, for me and my mates.

Assholes. I'm going to get my gun.

They don't know me yet.
Don't know who I am.

Don't be afraid of using violence.
It's a man thing.

I have to handle this
nice and quick.

I'll show them my country's justice.
They'll bow to the gun.

No justice without revenge.
I won't bring in the cops.

I must let justice rule.
Death to those punks.

No mercy.

A bullet in their empty heads...

...and that's two less
parasites in the world.

Fuck. I need to check the gun.

Three bullets left.

One for the barkeeper. One for his son.

And one more for the asshole that called
me an alcoholic. Respect I'll get.

I must get my aim straight on the
first two shots.

I don't know what sewer they came out of
but they don't look French.

The father wore a crucifix. Maybe he's
Spanish or a Porto farmer.

Some change their name and religion
just to infiltrate France.

But I'm French and I'll teach
them some dignity.

Come outside.

Are you coming outside old faggot?

Are you coming or what?

Hey, are you coming outside, pussy?

I'm talking to you!

You don't have the guts, do you?

Are you coming, pussy?

I'll show you who I am.

Fuck.

cock lover!

You'd think the world's civilised
but it's a jungle.

And in the jungle you better be
with the strong animals.

Or you're a prey...

...that has to constantly
run for its life.

It all depends on luck
when you're born.

Or you're born poor and have to
submit to the force of others.

Standing in the queue, being humiliated.
But sometimes you get violent.

Or you're born rich
and you take care of your money.

Pretending to love your wife,
kids and friends...

...just like they pretend
to love you.

But as soon as your life or your house
burns down...

...and have nothing left to give,
your so-called friends...

...will all crush you, in silence.

To "help" you.

Which is exactly what they like to do.

The worse your situation is,
asking for help...

...the better they'll feel.
And crush you.

I don't think I'll ever
get things straight.

My time has come. I've collapsed.

I'm in deep shit,
complete and utter shit.

But I'm not afraid. On the contrary.
I'm not asking anyone for help.

I'll go on right until the end.

I'll dig a tunnel
right though all this crap.

That's my goal. Go on until the end.

My entire life's been
one giant piece of shit...

...wanted by my mother
who loved to get laid...

...whose face I've never even seen.

Say that again, fucking ape.

Say that again if you're a man.

I'm going to fucking shoot you.

The blood's gushing out of this
fucker's head

He wants to cry for help,
but no one's coming.

Only his damn son.

Fucker.

The third bullet is for my friend
at the abattoir.

I'll go into his office
and give him my form.

You went bankrupt.

After I've finished them,
I have to kill myself.

Nice suicide for the butcher.

Because I'll die anyway
I might as well do whatever I want.

No more punishment, no more crime.

Some fun is forbidden...

...just because assholes in a
priest outfit or a tie say so.

But I don't like them.

They've ruined my life.

In the name of morality they've
betrayed me.

So why shouldn't I
kill myself now?

Three more bullets.
If I keep one for myself...

...I'd still have two
for the others. Yeah.

No one's going to miss me.

They'd probably feel relieved.

Yeah, I could die
and that's it.

The void, like before I was born.

What about Cynthia? Can I
leave her behind just like that?

Without saying goodbye?

Would I get her kicked out
to become a bum...

...to be fucked and beaten up by
the rest of the bums in Paris?

No.

I'm her father.

Even if she'd been a mistake,
it's my responsibility.

Ah, yeah. That pig from the abattoir.

I'm going to kill him like no man's
ever been killed before.

Make him suffer as much as possible.
So I'll enjoy it as much as possible.

He's going to pay for
all that deserve to die...

...but who I can't kill.

Even if he's not the worst.

If I had to kill an asshole,
he's the biggest prick I know.

And today I'm going to blow his
queer head to pieces.

It's the only way of getting
my dignity back...

...and my joy in life.

There is no other solution.
It's clear now.

Every man his moral. Every man
his justice.

And mine is on its way.

So you see I came back.

I'm taking her to the Eiffel Tower.

Have a nice day.

Thank you.

She sure has changed these
last months. I hardly recognize her.

Maybe in a couple of years she
will look like her mother.

What will I look like in 10 years?
I bet I'll be long dead.

It would be nice to know
what the future brings. Who knows?

If we're lucky we'll have
World War 3.

And all the assholes around me
will be blown to bits.

Why France and not the rest?
We're not worse than the Germans.

Well, Germany should be destroyed.

They're all Nazis
or sons of Nazis.

Nazis killed my father.

1988, the year of total destruction
of Germany by the Russians.

Give them a warm hand.

Why am I making this all up?

Tonight I will no longer
be on this planet.

I'm sure.

But she doesn't know.

It's strange.

How quickly a life passes, and
all for nothing. Strange.

She's so still,
like she's afraid of something.

I bet she can feel we're not
going to the Eiffel Tower.

I have to comfort her.

We're going on a long journey.
A very long journey.

Just us two.

You like that, don't you?

Attention. You have 30 seconds to
leave the projection area.

Only after you've lost everything
you will find your way back.

Maybe the hunger is clearing
my thoughts.

The less you eat,
the more you see.

Back in the camps some people
saw magnetic waves.

It'll all be OK. I hope.

I have nothing to lose.
I feel stronger than ever.

Life is a constant battle.

For success; don't hesitate.
That takes a lot of energy.

Danger

HOTEL DE L'AVENIR
MARCH 23RD 1980, AROUND NOON

She's lucky to have a father.
I never knew mine.

He was killed by the Krauts

Why has she changed this much?

Maybe they did some strange things
with her in the home.

No, I don't think so.

There's only women there.

My daughter is pretty good looking.

I'm proud of her.

She has a lovely body, much
nicer than her mother's.

I should bathe her.

No.

There's only a sink. And besides,
I might do something stupid.

The gun?

Yeah.

I shouldn't be afraid.

When I wait too long I
could change my mind.

Let's be clear about this.

The violence I'd have to use
does serve a purpose...

...of getting us out of this
misery pretty easily.

Being dead must be like sleeping.

But better.

What has to be done, has to be done.

There. Did what I had to do.

But it wasn't as beautiful
as I thought it would be.

Now let's make an end to
all this misery.

I have nothing left to lose.

Yeah, that's it.
I'm doing this for me.

It's my duty to protect you from
years of misery yet to come.

Wait for me on the other side.
I'll be there right away.

It won't take long.

There, we're done.

It's over.

I haven't missed her, have I?

Come on, die.

What's keeping you?

A knife would've been better.

I've killed pigs.

My priest taught me.
Stick the knife into the main artery.

She's shaking like a pig.
She's in pain. I hate this.

It seemed easer in the abattoir.
Now what?

Why am I doing this?
She's dying. Against my will.

A higher force's leading me.
She dies where she was made.

It was the force, not me.
She's going back...

...where she came from. That's what I'll
say in court. What court?

Back to where I started. I'll kill myself.
I'm getting sick.

Don't throw up, not now, next to her.
She's in a lot of pain.

This could take too long.
I need to finish her.

No use crying over spilt milk.
If I shoot one more time...

...I won't have any bullets left for
myself and the abattoir queer.

Life's always heading in one direction
and way too quickly.

It's good against evil.
I must decide.

Piling up mistake upon mistake
until time erases them.

But death is no mistake,
it's the only way out.

My daughter's gone,
now it's my turn.

Blow your fucking brains out.
Show them your brain.

Everyone always forgets we're only,
flesh, fat and bones.

I'm a piece of flesh that thinks too much.

They've killed my daughter.
Let the flesh stop.

Butcher, free the steak of itself.

Someone assaulted my child.

I'm going to kill the bastard.
it's my duty.

The labourer...
My father was a communist.

He wanted what was right.
The Krauts killed him.

Because he was a humanist.
Death sentence, no buts.

Fortunately the Americans and
the Russians killed those Nazis...

...and their fucking wives.

But they left the Nazi pest
still around in this country.

All those who sympathized
should've been publicly...

...raped and castrated.
Let them suffer.

The Americans are much
more developed than we are.

It's almost over. I want to see my father's
face, and my mother's...

She was evil.
Pull the trigger, man.

She was a slut who betrayed
Jews and commies.

Are you chickening out?
Often evil wins.

I'll save the last bullet for the director.
Jesus I'm good.

They crucified him and fucking priests
have stolen his image.

Everything good is long dead.
To let evil rule everything.

No. You must fight evil.
I'm good...

...so he has to die, not me.
A father, a daughter, a gun.

The world is evil,
good must triumph.

There is no room for the pure.
Maybe she's not dead. I'm coming.

God I love you.
You don't die that quickly.

Help me escape from this stinking
cheese.

She's only pretending.
Worms all over.

The cheese is not enough.
They want my flesh.

Worms in priest clothes.
Too good to be true.

They've come in your name,
but they're lying.

They're Nazis.
Why have I mutilated her like this?

Evil was inside of them.
No one will ever touch her.

Maybe at the morgue they'll stick a
finger up her pussy.

I'll save the bullet to
blast open her body.

She's pure. I'm continuing as planned.
She'll wait for me.

Cynthia, you are no longer trapped
in your body.

The first murder is the most
important one

Hang on, I'm coming too. Maybe
my damn mother is waiting for me too.

It would be great to die together.
With Cynthia's mother.

We're innocent.
Good must rule.

I'm coming, baby.
Count to ten. Ten... Nine...

I'll bring our past and our love.
From my brain?

What will they do with my brains
and my dick?

At the morgue they slice them up
and put them in a jar.

They have done something to this room.

You have to pay, even for the air
or they will gas you to death.

Death has to be good. I don't have
enough bullets for everyone.

It's either them or me,
so I'll go.

Cynthia's waiting for me anyway.

Yeah, honey, wait. Seven, six...
But we'll be back.

And I'll be the president.
And rule over France.

And I'll screw them all.
They won't get away.

The red button. And the void.

All they get is pieces of brain.
The time has come.

It's all over.

No it's me.
It's my head.

No I shouldn't do this.

I'm a good person and
it should stay that way.

Strange how I always seem to fail.

My birth, my youth,
love, the shop.

I never should've been born.
Ever.

Never.

My entire life is a mistake.
Everything but my daughter is.

I know what will happen.

This is just a deja vu.

I've been here a thousand times.

Everything seems to repeat over and over.

I love you more than anything.

Don't leave me alone.

Moral

Mankind has a moral.

I don't know how this
day will end.

But I'm here with you.

And I'm happy.
Happier than I ever was.

The rest is not important.

Maybe it's our last day,
maybe not.

Maybe I'll never shoot
myself in the head.

Maybe I'll sleep with you...

...and go to jail tomorrow.

Four months, a year, two years.

Ah, jail wasn't so bad.

And if it is,
I could always hang myself.

Even if I go to jail I'll always have
this moment to give me courage.

And the satisfaction of having done
what I wanted and not what someone did.

Maybe I can give my life a meaning
after all. Protecting you...

...and making you happier
than anyone else ever did.

You're my daughter.
And I'll make you... a woman.

We shall do it.
And be happy.

It'll be our little secret.

Whether we do it or not,
humanity won't change.

But to you and me it
means a total change.

People think they're free,
but freedom doesn't exist.

Just laws that unknown people
made to protect themselves...

...that lock me and my sadness away.

One of those laws says
I can not love you...

...because you're my daughter.
And why?

I bet they don't forbid it because
it's a wrong thing to do...

...but because it's too strong.

In our case there is no other solution.

I love you...

...and nothing else.