All language subtitles for The 100-Year-Old Man Who Climbed Out the Window and Disappeared ENG 2013 720p BluRay x264

The one who has meant
the most to me in life

is Molotov.

Well.

Oh! Well. Well, you go on out.

Jump out, it’ll get real cold in here damn
quick if you’re going to linger like that.

Food'll be in an hour, so you’ll have
to meow so that I can hear you.

Molotov! Come to daddy.

You wanna come and eat some? Molotov!

No!

No, no, no...

No, no, no!

No, no

Bastard!

God dammit...

Fucking fox bastard.
This will be your last meal!

I’ll show you some goddamn dessert!

All of a sudden I had blasted
my way right into the nursing home.

61.

- How's it going?
-62.

Now I lost count.
How many to each box?

There's 10 to each box,
it says so right here.

You can never trust that.

- It's usually right.
- I’ll just have to count again.

I’ll start over. One, two, three, four,
five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.

Long may he live for.
Long may he live for, long may
he live for a hundred years

Of course he shall live for

Allan! Allan!

Allan? Allan?

Allan? - Oh my god, where is he?

- Whereas the old guy?
- Where'd he go to?

Hi!

Well. Is there a...
Can one travel somewhere from here?

- Where did you say you were going?
- I didn’t.

Are there any means of transport
leaving from here?

- When?
- Yes

Anytime really.

Is there anything running here?

The bus to Strangnas leaves in 3 minutes.

- Strangnas?
- Yes, route 322. Is that of interest?

Yes

Is this enough?

No, it's not enough.
You can get as far as Byringe, maybe.

- What's in Byringe?
- Not a damn thing.

Uh-huh! A one way
ticket to Byringe, thanks.

And you are... over 65...

- What?
-Well. Let's see

- There you go.
- Thank you.

Fucking crap!

Come on, what the fuck?!

How did they figure this shit?

Hold the bag! Don't let go of it!
Shut your fucking mouth!

Well

The old fart must have
vanished into thin air!

It's dark and locked in the basement.
There's no way he got in down here.

We have to call the police. Will you
do it, or should I do it? You call them!

Allan!

There are plenty of people who have shouted
at me, from conductors to dictators.

Where the fuck are you, old-timer?! Shit!

Allan!

The first one to scream
because of me was my mother.

I do not remember her screaming,
but I'm pretty sure she did.

I probably screamed too.
That's what new-borns

do the first time they
get to look around.

The old man I never got to see
yelling that much.

- Karlsson has blasphemed!
- Because I showed the rubberman?

It's the only solution to famine and
strife. You call that blaspheming?

If you do it during Children's Day at
the main square in downtown Malmkoping...

- I need to warn people...
-...then that is blaspheming!

I was nine the last time I saw him.

It's impossible to live
in this sanctimonious

monarchy. I'm going to Russia!

Dad declared his own republic on
160 sq-feet right in the middle of Moscow.

This is the solution
to famine and strife!

With this, the woman
will not be with child.

No, no children. Njet.
This is fantastic.

- There, my dad could do as he pleased.
- What are you doing?

Until the Ruskies
dealt with him.

But this is the solution
to famine and strife!

Can I say just one last thing?

Flatfoot, flatfoot, flatfoot!

Mrs Karlsson...

The news of fathers passing
came on a sunny day in April.

That was the same day that I discovered
how sweet it is to blow things up.

All that father left
behind came in a package.

Mother got a colourful egg, made by a
Fabbe-something.

I got one of those
Russian nesting dolls, Matryoshka.

And a camera!

Those were some good presents.

Mom traded that egg at Trader Gustavsson's.

It turned out that he had made a good deal.
But that's what traders do!

After dads passing, mother
coughed for two years-

-before she too stepped in to that supposed
heaven where dad might also reside.

That made me a bit
uneasy about the future...

...but I guess that's what happens when
kids are about to become orphans.

- How will I manage?
- You sound like your father.

He was always thinking. Look at what
happened. Thinking is futile.

The only sure thing is
that things are what they are...

...and will be what they will.

Those were my mothers last words.

Ever since then I had to get by on my own.

- Hello! Hello!
- Huh?

- You forgot your bag.
- Oh yes, that one. It's fine.

There are no trains
running here. It's closed.

- Huh, what did you say?
- There are no trains running here.

- The Station is closed.
- Well, yes.

I can see that. I wasn't born yesterday.

- What are you doing here then?
- The bus, it stopped here.

Uh-huh. But then
wheres-to are you going?

Wheres-to? Well, no... It's...

I don't know. We'll have to see.

- Have you been hoboing long?
- H-H-Hoboing?

It's a decent sized bag
you're lugging around.

Nah, this thing? It's not mine.
It sort of just came with me.

- A thieving oldster then.
- Haha, well...

- Are you hungry?
- Ah shucks, food? I'm mainly thirsty.

- We can fix that!
- Really, well. Lovely.

- Can you find where we're going?
- I usually practice

running here...
- I don't give a flying fuck!

- I know the area...
- I said: Can you find your way!?

- Yes, I know the area.
- That's fucking good fortune for you!

What the hell...

- What are you doing?
What's the problem?
- It's out of gas.

Do you have a fucking spare can or what?
Huh?!

There's only one house in Byringe!
It's brown... or light brown.

It's a bit yellow too!

You don't suppose
he just went astray?

Oh no, I don't think so.
His mental acumen is fine.

There's nothing wrong with his brain.
Can the inspector

understand how someone just sneaks
out of their own party? -No

I've put in so much work for his sake
and he just up and disappears.

We bought a marzipan
cake for at least 40 people.

We ordered it for his sake,
because he likes marzipan cake.

Normally we just eat whipped cream cakes
here. Marzipan gets stuck in the oldies teeth.

Mmmm

What are we to do with that cake?
Here I am with a huge

cake for a bunch of old-timers
that can't eat marzipan.

Well, well.

I personally fancy Schwarzwald cake, but
then again it's not me having a birthday.

You know what? You call me
when he gets back, because

cases like this usually
get solved very quickly.

Has he jumped out of the window?
You don't suppose he's jumped out

of the window? It was open this
morning when we came in singing.

- It was actually open then.
- Well, I wouldn't know.

- It's entirely possible.
Call me when he gets back.

It'll probably fix itself.
- I don't think so. -Oh no?

Oh man, nursing homes! They have the
idea that I should go come fall.

- I've only ever set my foot there once.
- Well, well...

After four there's
always room for one more.

Haha, yes.

I got a buck to entertain the
old-timers with my accordion.

They sat there gaping
like hollow birds nests.

- So you play the accordion?
- Oh yes.

Wretched souls, just sitting there...
I'd rather sit in the big house.

- Well, Congrats again!
- Oh right, damnit! I forgot about that.

Say hi to Tiny Tim!

Ever had a ball and chain?

Nah, shucks, it never
turned out that way.

How the hell did
you manage that?!

Do you tinkle outside? I need to make
room for the next round. It's pressing...

A fine thing that you managed to eat!
There'll be dessert later.

Yes yes, I'm coming...

Nice.
- Hello, anyone there? Hello!

- Whereas the old fart and the bag?
- It's closed.

- Whaddaya mean closed?
-It's not a railway station.

- Whereas the old fart and my bag?
-I live alone here...

You think I'm fucking stupid?
Who the fuck been sitting here then?

- No... Oww!
- Old fuck!

- Watch it, goddammit!
- Oww!

- Oww! Stop it!
- You old fuck! You feel me?

- You...
- I'm a fucking kill you!

- Watch it!
- Yes!

Stop hitting!

- Oww, oww, oww!
- Wanna flip a coin?

- We'll see if you get to keep living.
- Stop it. Just calm down...

Lucky you that I don't have any coins!

There's a coin
bowl in the hallway.

The hallway? Are you
completely fucking stupid?

- Goddammit, what a whack!
- You don't say?

Hey you, what about that dessert
you were talking about?

- We need to get him out of here...
- Wha..What?
- Well before he comes to.

I have to admit that I'm
getting a bit curious...

about what in the bag.

There! That's the quickest way...

Oops, that was a bit much!
I can take that one.

...to open, even if you
do know the combination.

You want it neat, or?

Oh, lord almighty!

That was a whole lot of cash. No
wonder why the little guy was so cranky.

Open up, for fuck sake!
You hear me old-timer?!

Let me out!

- I just want that fucking bag.
- Calm down!
- I won't hit you!

Seriously, hey!

- What was that?
- Ah well, I turned on the unit.

I’ll take the fucking bag and then
I'm out of here. I won't hit you.

It's easy to make rosey plans when
you're locked up or in deep shit.

That won't do much for you. Life is what
it is, and will be what it will anyway.

That's a lesson Trader
Gustavsson learnt.

- Wait here, Bibi!
- Come back soon.

He had planned his escapade well. He
picked a sunny day, a beautiful road...

...and a perfect hill for his pee-break,
and still it went south.

Because I had picked the very same
hill for my test blast.

She screamed to high heavens.

I guess that's what mistresses do when
trader-heads plonk down on car hoods.

Even though the test
blast was successful, I

got a oneway ticket to
the mental hospital.

There.

This is your room now,
no monkey business!

Well, after a few years of lock-up-

-I ended up at one of those racial
biologists, that professor Lundborg.

Stop it, Allan.

Hm...

Mm.

Northern Native
Negro musician from U.S.A. Deported.

\Negro musician from U.S.A. Deported.

Does Allan know if you have
any negro-blood in the family?

- No, I.. I don't think so.
- I just can't make sense of this.

Allan has negroid measurements.
You are prone to violence.

But you are very fair skinned.

But if the Professor does have a negro
anywhere I'd really like to meet one!

Allans father was of
revolutionary character.

Mm-hum, he was a bit special.

And the apple doesn't seem to
fall too far from the tree.

I think we should err
on the side of caution.

Lundborg laid out the
contraptions and made sure

my genes were not passed
on to the population.

- Doctor, the patient is ready.
- Yes yes.

I guess that what racial biologists do.

You can bandage him up a bit extra.

He wasn't too sure-handed, but for what I
could tell the surgery went well anyway.

- 49,800,000...
- Here's the last one.

- 49,900,000...
- And that one.

- 50,000,000.
- You know how to count, don't you.

Not too shabby!

Are you still not
able to get through?

I've got no damn clue about what happened
to his phone. The fucking phone doesn't work.

Just keep calling. Send a text
goddamnit. Do as you intended, for once.

- But what was he supposed to do?
- He was just to collect a thing, a bag!

A bag?

Yes a bag. Surely you know
what a friggin bag is, Bucket?

A portable carriage space
to keep things in.

Couldn't you have picked
up the bag yourself?

Does this look like a ride
pass from a theme park?

- I forgot about the ankle monitor.
- But I didn’t fucking forget about it.

Is it The Bolt?
I’ll take this.

- Just shut up! I’ll do the talking.
- Is it The Bolt? - I said shut up!

- Hello, it's The Pike.
- Hello mate. How's it going?

Shit-good! No problem! What is the
clock for you? We have evening.

Nevermind the about clocks.
Now you were supposed to ring

me earlier, weren't you? Why
didn’t you ring me earlier?

Ah, yes I know but, ah fuck,
I had some mobile battery troubles.

Listen mate, Calm down! Calm down!

You're stumbling and mumbling,
you're talking gibberish. Maybe

you can hand the phone to someone
who I can talk to properly?

Loaders for mobile...Okay wait.
I give to you phone for Caracas.

Hold on, wait.

Caracas, bitch! Phone.

Come!

But who is it?

- Pim! How are you?
- Nevermind how I am! Have you got my cash?

- We have it.
- What do you mean?

One of my boys has the cash.
Therefore we have the

cash. Say that we have the cash.
No problems.

Caracas, are you there? Hello!

Hello. The Bolt has it.

Okay, so everything is
fine then, you've got it?

He's not here yet but he'll be here soon.
Don't worry.

Just get the bag to my courier by
tomorrow, otherwise you're dead.

I ask you for one fucking thing,
and that's for you to say that

we have the money. Is it that fucking hard?
Fucking world record!

You take off to Malmkoping, and you bring
that idiot back home. This is serious now!

- Java?
- Yes, yes please.

Anacin?

- Did you sleep well?
- Yes.

- Has he made a ruckus this morning?
- No, not a peep.

Negative 5... Holy hell!

- Goddamnit, what have I done?
- What?

Shit! How could I forget to
turn off the chiller?

Aha, yes. Well, well. It'll...

It'll all work out.

Regret does you no good, as long
as you don't have a time machine.

Eh, regretting something has
never undone the regrettable.

I've never regretted my surgery, on
the contrary, it was a stroke of luck!

If my crotch hadn't been so numb, I would
never had stopped at that cannon foundry.

And never taken up
employment there either.

These guns...

We forge the barrels.
We are one man short.

You can watch for a week.
- Esteban! Shut up and work!

Si, Si, Si! We have to work
together to create a better world.

The Spaniard Esteban
was thin, thin as a pennant.

But then again he only used his mouth
to talk. - Come with and fight Franco!

Allan, were do you stand? What do
you want? You must take a stand.

You have to give me an answer.

I want to shoot! I like
it when things explode.

We have to do something now!

When the civil war in Spain
was approaching he wanted

me to come with and crush
some guy named Franco.

I thought why not? In war you get
to blow all sort of things sky high.

Viva la revolucion! Viva Durutti!

Where are you going?
Come with us! Come with me!
Like the International Brigades...

Durutti says...

- Hitler is a good man.
- We have to stop him.

- I want to sleep!
- One second!

We have not time for sleeping!
We have to fight Franco!
We'd rather die than surrender!

Viva la revolucion!

I have to raise the flag of the republic
and open your revolutionary hearts!

When we got there, the first bullet
of the war had not yet been fired...

Death to fascists! Death to Franco!

...until Esteban shouted,
for the last time.

The wise words of my mother came to me.

That dude never got
to blow up any bridges-

-but I, I got to blow up all the more.

And tres, and dos and uno.
Now well get some thunder!

Get down, god damn it!

During many, many years, I did nothing
but eat, sleep and blow stuff up.

Well, it was a wonderful time!

But perhaps it got to be
too much of a good thing.

All of a sudden my want
for explosions was gone.

I thought: To hell with this!
I’ll do something else.

If you've walked up and down Spain a few
thousand miles, you don't mind a ride.

Stop!

Why is he standing in the
middle of the road? So stop!

Stop stop.

It turned out to general Franco
who was out for a Sunday drive.

My waiving was apparently appreciated
'cause he treated me to dance, paella...

and a real bout of rioja-drinking.

That was a perfect
ending to my time in Spain.

My friend Allan, you saved my life.
I want you to have my favourite pistol.

Wow, it's shiny. Flim-flam!

- Care for it.
- Thank you!

Seor! I wonder if it'll fire.

This is how a man dances!

Everybody calm down,
it's my friend Allan!

Tell me, what will you miss
most about our wonderful country?

The wine, and my
friend Esteban who died.

Que Viva Esteban!

- What... what is that beeping?
- Well, it's probably some phone...

Well, there you go.

Let's see here.
Lots of texts pouring in.

- Now?
- Well there's poor coverage in there.

From The Pike, from The Bucket,
The Bucket, The Bucket.

The Bucket, Mom. The
Bucket, The Pike.

He seems popular.

Well so-so. The Bucket writes:
"Call or die".

Damn it!

- Hello!
- Yeah hi, I'm at the station now.

There's not a single
fuckin' dude here. There's

just some friggin' weirdo
at the ticket counter.

- What should I do?
- Well, did you ask him?

- What should I ask him?
- Ask if he's seen anything!

Yeah ok, I'll ask.

Ronny Hult and his wife are here.
In the future

you might go get your
visitors yourself.

Sorry sorry, I didn't even
know they had arrived.

- Hi!
- Uh-huh, please take a seat.

Well, tell me, but what
was it that happened yesterday?

Well, I work at the Travel center,
and a few hours had passed!

Just say what happened.

- But that's what I'm doing.
- You're not doing it very well.

Ok, there was a guy who jumped me.
He was really violent.

But now you forgot to
tell about the old one!

But... First, there was an old person...
Or, there was a man I sold a ticket to.

And that was the centenarian.
The centenarian comes
and buys a ticket from Ronny!

And then the biker guy
comes and beats Ronny up
and forces him to drive over to Byringe.

Hello?

Is there anybody home?

Hey, do you know what time it is?

Yeah...

- It's almost eleven.
- That's good.

Then they'll soon go on
a lunch break in there.

Hey, hey!

- Hello...
- Goodbye.

Uh-huh.

- Oh well, that could have hurt.
- Sometime being dead can have its upsides.

There.

- Should we toss it all?
- Toss all of it!

- What are you going to do now?
- He's gonna go in there.

Ah bastard ...!

There.

Djibouti. Uh-huh, well.
He'll be well travelled.

The advantage with vests is that
size is rarely an issue.

Yeah...

Uh-huh. Damn ladies throw.

What?

Julius, you've got to
help me with the bag.

- Now that we're two sharing it.
- Hell yeah!

Well of course. And you'll
take that one. Thank you for that.

Hey, you there!

Hey you! Could you hang on a second?
I'm from the police.

Have you... I'm looking for
a hundred-year-old who's

lost and strayed from a
nursing home in Malmkoping.

- Have you seen any old-timer?
- I've seen an old man on a rail trolley.

He went past with Jonsson.

- Uh-huh, was that Julius Jonsson?
- Yes, exactly.

And then one with a biker vest. He was
very snobby and wearing sunglasses.

Apparently that's something people do
these days. He didn't even greet me.

- But where did you see them?
- At the soccer pitch by Ă…kers styckebruk.

- Was it a long time since you saw them?
- About half an hour ago.

- Are you sure about that?
- No.

Well...

Bye.

Hey...

Hello! You don't happen to have
room for two hitchhikers do you?

Eh...

Hi.

- Well... Yes, yeah, that could work.
- How nice!

It's pretty cramped back here.

Well I can keep the
bag in the front seat.

- Where are you going to?
- Is it your kiosk?

No, oh no. I'm just doing some extra
work. I'm studying when not working.

Are you studying?
Not Junior high I assume.

No, no I've tried some
different paths. I've

studied a whole lot
of different things.

I imagine...that it's a pretty
difficult question this whole thing...

...with employment opportunities and stuff.

- How do you mean?
- No, but...

There are like different...
I mean to say...

- I can ponder...
- That what?

I can imagine difficulties with
this thing about choices. How...

But that's terrific,
keeping all doors open.

Yeah, well, never mind. Eh!

- Get in...
- Thank you!

So, where are you headed?

Well... where are you headed?

I'm going to the traders
for some bulk buying.

Traders? That seems nice.

Are you sure? It's right
in the middle of nowhere.

Nowhere is underrated.

Yes, perhaps it is.

Hey, can't you do the local ads?
That'd be perfect!

Yeah, Skandia, they're 150 years old,
and the geezer is 100 old.

That would be great. I mean, you as
a cop could do something loco with it.

- No, I won't do it.
- But both of 'em are old.

No but, can't you hear what I'm saying?
I'm a cop for crap's sake.

It would be great, this thing.

Won't you relent? I'm fucking
employed by the government! I can't

friggin' sit here and do ads
on this shitty radio station.

The fresh 70ies group "The Police"
performed the song "Message in a bottle".

Now I've got officer
Aronsson in the studio.

Inspector.

Welcome. You've got a "message" to the
general public, but not in a bottle?
- Eh, no.

No? Tell us a bit about it.

It concerns a man by the
name of Allan Karlsson-

-who on his hundredth birthday disappeared
from the nursing home in Malmkoping.

Wow wow, a hundred years old, I'll
be damned! Is he playing hide and seek?

No. We believe that he's been kidnapped by
a biker gang at the station in Malmkoping.

Has he been kidnapped, wow!

Sounds like a bachelor party. Is he getting
remarried to Anna Nicole Smith or what?

We'd be very grateful if the
public could give us any leads.
- Thank you for coming.

- Hello.
- Hey, I'm sitting in my car.

There's some cop on the radio
jiving something about a

hundred-year-old that got
kidnapped by a biker gang.

What the hell are you saying?
Kidnapped how?

It's true. They said so
just now on the radio.

- That's got to be The Bolt!
- Fuck me! Now Boltie-boy, you're dead son.

That's good!

- You want something?
- Eh... No, I'm good.

Police suspect: 100-year-old kidnapped by
biker gang; disappeared from nursing home.

Fill up... Pull the lever.

You need to pull the lever, otherwise
there won't be any gas. Pull the lever.

- No!
- You need to pull the lever at the pump!

Have you never fueled a car before?
You need to pull on

that little grip on the handle
or else you won't get any.

- Did he kidnap you?
- What? Who?

- Julius!
- No, no. You need to pull on the lever.

The headline says you were
kidnapped by a biker gang.

Julius was wearing a biker
vest, I just saw it.

No no, the biker vest is not his. No no,
he took it from that bald little boy.

A little boy?

He doesn't need it anymore,
he's dead as a dodo.

I hit him over the head
with a croquet mallet.

Have you killed him?
- No no, he froze to death.

- Okay...
- The bald little guy...the little bald guy

Han showed up with a sweaty face.
He probably

had the runs. He
wasn't feeling well.

He thrust the bag in my hand.
There's 50 millions in it.
- What?

Drive! Step on it!

- He doesn't know how to fuel.
- Never mind that, just go! Drive!

Benny, pedal to the metal! Go!
There you go.

- The old bat at the register saw me.
- Saw what?

This here little bag just happened to fall
into my pocket. Would you like a taste?

Yes please.
So, you went shoplifting?

- What the hell?!
- What?

- What the hell's been going on?
- I ask your forgiveness.

Obviously, you working in a kiosk would
get pissed off when I stuff my pocket...

He can't wreck a budget of
millions just for a bag of treats.

I don't care about the candy!

What the hell have you done?!

Huh...?

Never that I'm doing a public appeal on
radio again. It just turns into a mess.

- No, that didn't turn out too well.
- Right, why should I do things like that?

They called from Ă…kers Styckebruk.
The damn

dog indicated corps
on the rail trolley.

- Corps?
- Yeah, that's right.

Benny, what do you say? Skip the
traders and come with us instead?

Or do you have an exam on Monday?

- What're you going to do with the money?
- "You?"... We're splitting it right?

Well, we can talk more
about that later. Right

now we're parked in
a pretty bad place.

Can't you just hit it?

But whose money is it?

You know, it's not our money,
someone else is supposed to have them.

Well, what someone else's? What
does really belong to whom?

All things in the world changes
hands sooner or later.

That shooter I got from Franco, I traded
for a work permit when I got to America.

Hey, Allan!

You know they're looking
for people, right?

What the hell are
you saying, who?

- For the Manhattan project.
- Manhattan? But what? Manhattan project?

Yeah man, the Manhattan project, Allan.
You ask me,

we should try to get us an
interview or something.

- You see my fuckin' hammer up there?
- That sounds damn good I can tell you.

What you say man? Me and
you, can make a change.

That's very good,
that's a good project.

It's time that someone does
something about it. It's bitter.

Bitter? Man what the
fuck you talkin' about?

The Manhattan. Here.

- For fuck's sake...
- You drink it, the Manhattan drink.

- Man, what the hell you mean man?
- It's like kissing an alsatians ass.

It's bitter.

It's a bomb, it's the
biggest bomb on earth.

It's a bomb project?

And in one stroke my
want for blasting came back.

I have to say, it was
a wonderful feeling.

It's not gonna work.
We tried that last week.

- Maybe some coffee will help.
- Thanks!

Still no bomb today I guess?

Mr Oppenheimer, I really must say,
I'm quite disappointed.

Nothing happens here.
No explosions. Nothing.

- You're name's Allan, yeah?
- Allan.

Allen, this is not just any bomb.
We need to

figure out some pretty
complicated things here.

No no, you have to keep on testing.
You have to start testing

again. As my mother used to say;
"Don't think so much, just do it"

Yeah, but what your mom didn't
tell you is that, to detonate

this bomb we need to solve a minor
but crucial fucking problem.

- Yeah, what's the problem?
-Allan... I'm gonna give you a minute, ok?

For what we're going for, we need to use
twice as much plutonium as we're using now.

So, what are you waiting for?

We can't just add twice
as much plutonium, it's

unstable, it just falls apart.
It's simple physics.

I know, you've been
talking about this for

weeks now. But listen, I
give you a minute ok?

I had a little ponder on this. What if
you take half here, and half there-

-and put it together just a few
seconds before the explosion.

Yeah, now, that's the problem.
How are we gonna do that

with a falling bomb, encased
in metal, up in the air?

Yeah but, what the hell.
Do you have some dynamite?

Well, it was no trickier
than that to light that candle.

Everyone got very excited.
None more so than Harry.

Yes, Vice President Harry S. Truman.

I'm gonna buy you the
biggest drink you've ever drunk!

What the.. did my pants
get pee-shingles...?

You've done mankind a
great service my friend.

-You listening to me? You have done...
You have

changed the world.
- Tug and shake all you like...

-You have changed the world for the better.
-...the last drop wins the fight.

I'm telling you...listen to me! There'll be
no more wars after this invention of yours.

Thanks to you my friend...

Boom!

America and the world will
never have to fight again

because people will know the
power, the awesome power...

Gentlemen, I'm sorry to interrupt you.

- Mr Truman.
- What is it?

There's a phone call.
It's a phone call you have to take.

I've got to take this.
Never go into politics!

Yello!

A boozed up American can
talk the ear off of anyone. Lord knows.

It takes a whole lot to stop them,
things like a president dropping dead.

Jesus Christ!
Alright, I'll be right there.

But that's precisely what
Roosevelt went and did that day.

Now... Here!

Hey, Haar..Harry! You forgot your...

It's a Vice Presidential lighter.
You keep it.

Well Harry wasn't too picky
about whose was whose.

Welcome back!

-Mr Karlsson. -Yes, Allan.
-Welcome back to Sweden!

Nonono, Prime Minister Erlander
wants to offer a welcome-dinner.

I barely managed to get my feet
on the ground before I was

shanghaied to that schmooze
dinner at the Grand Hotel.

That suited me well after
that damned airline food.

- Oh great, because I'm quite peckish.
- You'd better get in quickly!

Retelling a story; The
soldier got up and said:

"Get down, geezers and
grannies, he's reloading!"

Oh right, I heard from no less than
Harry S. Truman that Allan is an

exceedingly decent chap and that he also
performed great services for America.

Well, I don't know, but,
we had one hell of a party!

But you have to tell
me, I'm very curious!

We sat... we drank tequila.
Loads of tequila.

Obviously I speak of
what transpired before.

No, before, we drank only
tequila, all the way.

Harry wanted bourbon,
that's just sissy stuff.

Mr Karlsson has to realize that
it's the work that I'm referring to.

Oh, you're thinking of when I worked
on Manhattan? Then you're not

allowed tequila! That's totally reckless.
It goes straight to your head.

You'll have to excuse me
gentlemen, I've got to go. It's

very interesting but the
government calls, my wife that is!

That's it. The check's on me.
You can brief engineer
Eklund some more. Enjoy!

Well... Bye bye.

- Well the Prime Minister has asked me...
- Hey, you think he's coming back?

- No.
- Then I'll grab this piece of meat.

- It'd be a shame if it went to waste.
- The Prime Minister has asked me to...

...ask around if perhaps there'd be a
job for you at the atomic energy company.

- How nice!
- If we begin with your schooling...

Well, that's not too much to brag about.
Just three years.

- Just three years of academic studies?!
- Yeah, I dropped out when I was nine.

- Nine?
- Yes, exactly. Or no, I was ten.

No wait, I was turning ten that year,
so I was nine when I left school.

Hey you, here's a little
guy who wants to jump

down into the basement.
You can take his.

That Eklund disappeared
quicker than a chicken shits.

But he wasn't the only one at the Grand
who was out fishing, to put it that way.

Good evening, Mr. Karlsson.
I'm Popov, Jurij Popov.

I'm a physicist. We are colleagues.

Maybe we should take walk, together?
It seems like we need some fresh air.

What the hell, a walk?

- Hey Popov!
- Coming.

Hey hey hey hey. Little lady, there's
some nice stuff here. Gronstedts...

- You know what? I'll take a schnapps.
Hey, you pay for this. Give her a fifty.

- How much?
- Fifty.

Wow, this one had some spunk to it.

Now it's starting to take hold.
I feel awesome!

No Allan, we just like you to share some
of your experience and knowledge with us.

- Uh-huh, you don't say?
- It could be very lucrative for you.

- But..eh, but why?
- Comrade Stalin is a very nice man.

Well, I just like to blow up things.

- Yes, I like this too!
- You, you do?

Yes.

Just give me some dynamite and I blow up
anything. Fuckin' shit?!

Damn!

What the hell is this doing here?
This's inshore of the inner archipelago.

We're running low on gas.

- Go in here!
- Yeah, do that.

Sjotorp? That sounds jaunty!

- Hello!
- Hey, hey?

We're wondering if we might possibly be
able to rent a room here for the night?

Well this is no god damn hotel.
I live in here!

But we'll pay handsomly.
Money's a plenty, that's not an issue.

- Uh-huh, but hell, are you on the lam.
- There's not

need for concern. I understand
that it seems strange.

- Huh! There's yet another little old man.
- We got a little lost driving, and...

...we'd be very grateful if
that could be arranged.

- Allan.
- Hi! Gunilla.
- Pleasure.

Well, we'll see about that.

Ah, I guess I'll have to squeeze you in.
Just as long as no

one pees themselves, then you'll
have to sleep in the barn.

- What's that?
- Well, that's Sonja.

What's this then?

Aha! Hey there.

That wasn't too bad.

There, there!

Come, Sonja!

Is she about 40 years old?

Sonja? I haven't got a clue actually.

Why would you think that?

I'm almost a zoologist,
seems about right, I think.

Almost? How the hell can you almost be?

Well, one is almost
done with the education.

- But where did you find her?
- At a circus.

- Aha! Does she know different tricks?
- I really haven't got a damned clue.

Circuses are nothing
but cruelty to animals.

Yeah, absolutely!

- I hate circuses too.
- That was the one good thing my ex did.

He realized that I felt sorry for her,
so he took the matter into his own hands

He just took her?

- Took? Doesn't an elephant own itself?
- Yeah...

- Allan! - Huh?
- Listen now...!

You can't do that!

- Stop, whoa whoa whoa!
- I think there's not enough oomph!

It's supposed to taste of barbecue.

- What the hell is that?
- A french potato salad.

Yeah well, I could see that but that
green gunk. That looked tasty!

It's guacamole.

- Are you almost a chef too?
- No, almost a dietician.

No, stop it. You're kidding me!

No, unfortunately I'm almost very
many things. Almost a veterinarian...

Almost a macroeconomist, almost a
pharmacist, almost a behaviourist.

Damn! You almost have to be single too.
You couldn't have

had time for a woman if you've
been going on like that.

No. Or-yes...

Well, I'm single. I'm available.

- Or were you kidding?
- No, but you've got to be kidding me?

No, not kidding. I've spent the last
18 years getting 550 college credits.

Holy hell!

I've had it tough trying to
quench my thirst for knowledge.

You've got to stop lying to yourself.
It can all go to shit otherwise.

- Ain't nothing turning into anything.
- Well that's one analysis one can make.

What the hell?
What the fuck are you doing here?

- What?
- What are you doing here?

Eh...

- I was just going to pick up some stuff.
- You have no things to pick up here!

Yeah, I have...
I was going to pick up my bowls.

What fucking bowls?

The blue fucking bowl
with some floral pattern.

God damn it Ricky, you gave me those
for my birthday. Are you getting them?

I've changed my mind. I want my bowls.

Go fuck yourself Ricky! Get lost!
You're not supposed to be here.

- Pleasant to fuck with?
- Yes, he's pleasant.

- He's the best. Real fuckin' nice.
- Yeah yeah, sure.

He's very good with his hands.
"Making love" we call it.

Ricky. Hi! Congrats.

- Thank you...
- Take care!

No, you'll have to turn around.

Yes, there you go!

Yes. No... Yeah, that works.
A bit more...

- You'll have to... There you go.
- You can back it up here.

- You're doing fine.
- If you back it up a bit more...

There you go.

Man, he was riding the clutch.

Gunilla, Gunilla!

I don't know what the hell
is wrong with me. I always

meet idiots like that. I'm
drawn to those idiots!

Maybe you'll know.
You're probably almost a psychologist.

No, not fully...
But I don't have that much further.

I've taken the basic courses.
I still have

neuropsychology to do, but
that's just a short one.

But it's hard to say
where your problem stems from.

But you can change your behavioural
pattern...if you want.

But, Benny. You can't
choose who you fall in love with.

No, unfortunately...

Gunilla! It was you and me.
You and me...

- Yes, hello?
- Bro!

- Hello, Ricky?
- She's left me, it's over.

- She's met someone else.
- Ricky listen, nevermind that damn broad!

It's not a damn broad, it's Gunilla!

Listen to me now, don't do
any more valiums and give

up the drink too. We'll deal
with this crap tomorrow.

I can't do this. It's all done!
She's screwing that damn centenarian.
I'm sure of it!

What did you say? Stop, stop.
What centenarian?

Did you see the centenarian?

That damn geezer that was on
TV who's a hundred years old!

But Ricky...

Well... Two days ago I was sat alone
in my kitchen flipping a matchbox.

Then all of a sudden this old guy shows
up, and now I'm sitting here. Huh?!

It's god damn wonderful!

Well, one thing sure
leads to another alright.

But whether one thing is
better than the other,

well, that's something
you can't be sure of.

But one thing I do know, is that
submarines, propeller-planes and vodka-

-leads to an upset stomach.
You'd better believe it...

Oh fuck me!

Allan come on. Sorry, what did you say?

First we wanted
Albert Einstein to help us.

- Are you ok?
- Yeah, yes.

Well we found Mr Einstein.
KGB picked him up in Geneva.

Is it my bachelor party? How exciting!

Wait, I'm not getting married.
I don't even have a girlfriend.

We found later out that he was
Herbert Einstein, Albert's idiot brother.
- A bomb?!

Herbert Einsteins didn't share much
more than the looks with his brother.

Comrade Stalin was very,
kind of, disappointed.

Well, you can believe that!

- So we put our trust in you, Allan.
- The factory in Siberia is not working!

Who's responsible for it?

Idiots! Fools!

It's not so good with
marble when you have a

headache. Marble -
headache - he's screaming.

Who's responsible?

Comrade Stalin want's you to tell him
everything you know about the nuclear bomb

Uh-huh, you don't say.
- Yeah, sure sure. Why not?

But maybe a little, a drink first?

What the hell's he saying? Kalashnikov?

One drink and then you
tell me everything!

That's the spirit! Good!

Dance, dance!

Come on, dance!

Damn, you're nagging, stop it.
You're insane.
You sound like...just like Franco.

- Franco... The fascist?
- Always nagging... It gets old.

What's he saying?

- You know Franco?
- Yes yes, I... I saved his life.

No no, your dance...beautiful!
Very good. More masculine.

Franco he was dancing, you know, like
this, like a woman.

- You may say your last words.
- Exactly, listen.

I don't think that men
should dance at all.

Just woman.

We don't all think the same, but...

...that a gulag camp is a real rat-hole
is something most would agree on.

But then again I got to
meet some new people too.

Some just briefly...but it was there
that I became friends with Herbert!

You know, Herbert Einstein.
Like I said, one thing leads to another.

- Hey, idiot! Put the stone back.
- Yeah, yeah...

Idiot.

- Hello.
- Hello!

And the food there, or the feed...
It was lousy.

And I never saw a drop of vodka.
Not one little shot came my way.

I decided on day, to get away.

I had a good plan. Herbert
was the only one who

could roam around freely
without getting shot-

-because the guards had gotten used to
him getting lost and strayed all the time.

You pretend that you are going to the
canteen, but you end up in the laundry.

-There you steal two uniforms.
- Go to the canteen?

No, no, but...no.
You pretend to go to the canteen.

But you end up in the laundry.
The guards, they think that
you're going to the canteen.

- So I go to the canteen?
- You go...to the laundry!

The laundry? Why I go to the laundry?
The feeding, the food is in the canteen.

This is god damned ludicrous!
Listen, you go to the laundry by mistake.

To get the steak?

- So we eat before we escape?
- What? No!

- But we go to the canteen?
- But Herbert, listen.

We go to the canteen everyday, to eat.
But you're not going to the canteen.

You're going to the laundry
to steal two uniforms.

- I see. That's the plan!
- Yes, exactly.

Allan we're in the canteen, the canteen!
We made it! We made it Allan!

After a year I gave up. I realized that my
plan was much too complicated for Herbert.

Herbert, let's drop it. Forget it!

Aw shit! Where did I put it?

Herbert, for Pete's sake, give it up.
Please. Try to get some sleep.

- I cannot find the pin!
- Pin, what damned pin? For what?

- The pin for this!
- But that's a hand grenade!

- When did you find this?
- Ah maybe a year ago.

- Come on. Where did you find it?
- I found it in the laundry.

- You've been to the laundry?
- I went there by mistake.

You have to understand.
You have to throw it away.

- Who goes there?
-Halt!

Sorry, we have a problem.
We have an unsafe hand grenade here.

Throw it!

Grenade!

Now it's gone.

I can tell you that loose rockets
behave like cats' willies in March.

They fly every which way.

- I think we should go now.
- To the laundry?

No, look here, we can take this.

Here.

The fire is spreading
across the military base

Stalin took the news of the
gulag camp and the whole

damn pacific fleet burning
to a cinder very hard.

He kicked the bucket.

Shove him in the bathtub, flush the
fucker, make him talk!

Pull him out of the bedroom
and drag the bastard

into the bathroom and
douse the bastard.

- Get it together for fuck's sake!
- Oww!

Out with the address!
Where does she live?

Oww!

Get it together! Where
does the bitch live?

Sjotorp (Lake cottage)...

...because it's situated so
beautifully next to a lake.

Pike did you hear that?

Pedal to the metal Bucket!
Let's roll!

The amplifier is not
working, I haven't had

if for that long. The
warrant is still valid.

Of course I'll bring it in. Thanks!

Hey, I was thinking about
those cadaver-dogs. How can

we be so sure that they
always indicate corpses?

- How do you mean? It's a corps-dog.
- Well yeah, but...

I don't know, but, I'm thinking that
Allan is 100 years old after all.

And what?

Yeah but, senior people smell
somewhat different to what we do.

A sweet, sweetish kind of smell.
It's a little, kind of...

...somewhat "corpsy."

- Forget it.
- Mhum, I think so.

I want you to check out these guys.
Per Gunnar

"The Pike" Gardin och Hans
"The Bucket" Claesson.

But I've got my hands
full with the centenarian.

But it's the same
bikers; "Never again"

- Didn't you read the entire report?
- Yeah, yeah, yeah, of course I have!

Did you choke on something?

There you go!

- What the hell?
- Have some vegetables too.

I found this cell phone on
the kitchen floor. Is it yours?

- No, it's not mine.
- It wasn't Gunilla's either.

The thing is, it's turned off.

Well, turn it on and
you'll see who's called.

- Then you'll find out whose it is.
-Yeah, but can one do that?

- There you go.
- Thanks.

Someone called "Oleg"
who has called. "Oleg" again.

His name is Alec, it's Russian.
Little-Popov has called.

- Is it you cell phone, Allan?
- Yes, it doesn't look any better.

- Yes,
- Hey, I've found the geezer.

Damn good. Do you
have the bag too?

No, I haven't seen any damn bag yet.
There's just a load of people here.

- Just find that bag and quick!
- Eh, yeah, ok...

"Mm eh" what "ok"?
Is there a problem?

No, I'm just thinking
about the fuckin' geezer.

- What the hell am I to do with him?
- Don't think, just

do what you do: Threaten!
- Ok, I'll just threaten.

This is a threat!

Anyone does anything,
I'll blow their heads off, get it?
The bag! Get out the bag!

The bag, it's in the room, the kitchen.

- Hey faggot, get the bag, quick!
- Do you mean me?

I said "faggot". Hurry up!
I'll shoot the old man.

And you up there, keep calm!

Quickly!

Stop, stay there!

Back away from the bag. Back away.

- Hello!
- Hello? Why's it taking so damn long?

- Did you find the bag?
- I've got the bag in my hand now.

- Great! Do you have the green?
- I'm checking it, I'm checking it now.

You all take it easy, easy-peasy!
- Good, faggot! You stay calm.

Nice and calm!

- It's a damn crappy bag, all plastic.
- Shut it, fucking raisin!

- God damn, loads a'cash!
-Good Bucket!

Take that damn bag, and its content
and get your ass over here quick!

Get out of here, you bastard!

- Stop bitch! I'll shoot you.
- Hey, I'm the one shooting! I live here.
- Stop I said!

Bucket, god damnit,
what are you doing?

Get lost, I'll
blow your head off!

- Fuck! Shit!
- Bucket?

Shit! No...

Caracas, god damnit! Get up.

Hey, you're screaming.

- Where the hell have you been to?
- Bought melons. We were out.

But, the Bucket just got
capped by that damned

centenarian, and you
just up and leave?

Are you joking?

You think I'm joking?! Does it look
like I'm joking? Is that what's going on?

Half the damned crew and 50 million
are gone, and you're buying fruit!

- Melon is not a fruit, it's a vegetable.
- I don't give a flying fuck!

That's not what it's about. Never question
me the way you do now. You got that?

I won't.

Where're you off to? Stop I said!
Where the

fuck are you going? You're
not going anywhere!

Stay for fuck's sake!

Shit!

I'm gonna cut... There.

Did you get all
the bullets out?

I think the last one went straight through.
Sorry, I should have done something before.

What you should have done, was to inform
me about all the god damn stolen money!

- Now I'm all mixed up in this!
- But it isn't really my money just yet.

- It hasn't been decided if I get a share.
- Yes Benny, you are in! Help me here!

So he's in?

You're in too, Gunilla.
You'll get a buck too.

A buck? I'm just as involved
in this mess as you

lot. A fourth will do,
thank you very much!

The sun's bearing down. Do
you want to come for a swim?

No!

- Julius, shouldn't we take a dip?
- No, god damn it!

- Sonja might want a bath.
- No, she's not going to bathe.

- What are we doing with him?
- Maybe set the car on fire?

Eh, let him lay.

But, someone needs to
do something with him!

I guess that will be me,
since I'm the only one who

accepts any sort of damn
responsibility around here!

Responsibility? So it's your
sense of responsibility

that makes this place
feel so safe right now?

Hey, it wasn't me who was waving
around a shooter just then.

What was I to do? He was
about to blow our heads off!

Hey, let's try to hurry up a
bit, so we can get out of here?

I'm going for a swim, call me
on this if there's anything.

But where are we to pick you up if
you are going to set the car on fire?

I don't know yet!

Driving around with a dead guy...
I don't even know who he is!

Well, you can never be sure of that.

People can look like one thing, and
then turn out to be someone else.

In Paris, spring of -68 ,
I went to a party-

-with Herbert and his pretty little wife.

It was at the French
Minister of Foreign Affairs.

- Your majesty, good evening and welcome!
- This is my husband Herbert.

- And his friend Allan Karlsson.
- Welcome to our place.

No, Jean-Claude, not now.

But look, it's you.
Are you trying to hide?

- What are you doing here?
- Apologies, have we met before?

You know each other?

No no, he's confusing
me with someone else.

- Jean-Claude Pistou,
my interpreter at the embassy.
- No no, this is Vladimir Karpov.

Better watch out for this guy,
he's a real party animal.
We had a big party with Stalin.

Lots of vodka we drank, damn we had fun.

- Who are you?
- You know very well who I am!

Vladimir had not only gotten
dressed up for the evening,

he'd been playing dress-up
for years at the ministers'.

That made the French a little talkative.

Give us a name!

And Ryan Hutten
of the French CIA-office...

...he became a little curious too.

So, how do you know this Vladimir?

- Mr Popov, he put us together.
- Popov, Jurij Popov, the physicist?

Yeah, we had this party with Stalin and
Kirov and this KGB-guy, Alexander.

They danced like, you know cossack dance.

I don't think men should dance, actually.

But maybe if I get
real drunk I prefer a "snoa".

Or a "polska" (slow walking dances).
"Polska" is good. Real pleasant.

Rather a snoa. Snoa is good dance.
It's quite quick.

I get the picture, Allan. So eh, you know
a lot of people and you're very sociable.

- Yeah.
- So, you willing to help us?

Yeah sure, are you...are you in trouble?

Thanks!

- I'm looking for Popov.
- He's over there.

Old-mans-grip!

Have you started using
the "old-mans-grip"?

But look... What are you doing here?

It's been a long time...? May I?

American cowboy boots.

- This is my son, Oleg.
- Oh yeah, your boy?

- Are they real American boots?
- Yes, they're nice.

- Can I have them? Please.
- Oleg, quit it.

- He can have my...
- Take this, it's also American.

No, you don't have to...

- Now, what do you say?
- Thanks.

Yeah yeah, that's alright.
Enjoy it in good health.

Dear friend, what brings you to Moscow?

Well, CIA has a problem,
so they asked me for help.

I was thinking that you might...
What the hell is this?

- Wash your hands.
- I have done!

Wash them again!

My friend, I really would like to help.
I cannot do that. I've got a family now.

Why not?

If I steal some secret information,
they kill me and my family.

Just talk to the people in Kreml?

The KGB must damn well
have something laying

there that they want to,
you know, get rid of?

I apologize my friend!

Ryan Hutten?
So you're meeting the CIA in Paris?

Can you get some
interesting information from them?

It's not unlikely.

Hutten was happy with
that crap the Russians sent.

- Now, how much money does this guy want?
- No-no, no money, just...

Just give him some of your information.

- Counter intel.
- That'd work really well, Allan.

All of a sudden, I was a double agent.

Well agent, I don't know
about spying. There

never was anything
classified in that bag.

Both the Ruskies and the Yanks
emptied their trash bins straight into it.

Still, things got in motion anyway.

There were even a few
who snuffed it, unfortunately.

But then again, that's what
people do in cold wars.

Hey, the bag...

Really, you don't say?

People often appear one
way, but then they

turn out to be someone
completely different.

Americas' new president Ronald Reagan,
he seemed like a real rascal.

Well, he was one too,
so maybe that doesn't apply to all.

It's the same button for the start and stop
of the recording of sound. You toggle it.

Toggle? English please.

You tell him Allan, I can't stand all this
technological doohickey stuff either.

Why can't he use a normal
tape recorder like anybody else?

- Mr President, Sir? A moment of your time?
- Start...and stop.

If we get rid of the wall,
the roses will get more sun.

You're always bugging
me about that wall!

The wall stays.
Do you understand me, motherfucker?

You're always bugging
me about that wall!

The wall stays.
Do you understand me, motherfucker?

I don't want any nasty
critters invading my garden

I'm the fucking president. For the last
time: Don't tear down that wall!

This recording...

...confirms what I've always suspected.

He's scared shitless at the thought
that we'd tear down the wall.

He knows that if we do-

-the Russians will invade the world-

-and take over without weapons.

When my old friend Popov died, I
put my briefcase on the shelf for good.

But his son would come
over to visit sometimes.

To tear down such a big wall
with just hammers and chisels...

It's a crying shame.

- Here's to dad!
- Cheers!

Incredible! They've got
cannons all along the

east block, and they're
chipping away like that.

What's this...? Hello?

Do people stop answering their phone
when they turn a hundred?

Is it Oleg?

You should always have
the cell phone with you.

- Well...
- Ok, sorry.

Congratulations! What are you up to?

- I'm about to take an afternoon swim.
- Afternoon swim?

You're cool as always. Were you
celebrated? What are you doing tonight?

Apparently we're fleeing here,
however that came about.

Fleeing?

Yeah, people have died and...
and so we are fleeing.

What the hell Benny, hurry!
We need to bail!

We need to pack
food and clothes.

- Did Julius call yet?
- No, he hasn't.

Ow!

- Did you find something?
- Eh, what?

- Regarding the centenarian.
- No, no, no-no-no...

We just learned that "The Bucket"
Claesson has a brother nearby here.

Ricky is his name. He's seen the
centenarian at some place called Sjotorp.

- Check it out.
- Sure.

I want my bag, here,
in Bali, by tomorrow.

But first I'm going to Sjotorp.
I'm going there myself,
understand, no assistance.

I cut the ankle monitor.
It's gone.

Shut up! Just get Bali
into your thick head.

Understand? Bali?
Otherwise you're gonna be food.

I'll serve you up as confit
at your own fuckin' funeral dinner.

Uh-huh... Food I don't understand.
What, why food?

- Nonono, you will be the fuckin' food.
- I...I am food?

You will be the food, because
we would have killed

you, cooked you and fuckin'
would have served you up!

Fuckin' hell, goddammit! - Nonono, not
you, I was almost hitting car in bus.

Oh Jesus Christ! Can't you
even drive a fuckin' car?

I'll be back.

- Is he a Russian then, Oleg?
- Oleg, yes, he's a Russian.

- He's travelling all over the world.
- Do you have any credentials for him?

Credentials? Well it's Popov's son.
I've known him a long time.

Isn't it enough presently,
that he wants to help us?

Or do you know any PhD
that you'd rather call?

Someone who wrote a
thesis concerning this?

"Hunted by terrible biker gang"
for 90 college credits.

Damned idiot flailing behind us...
Damn narrow road...

How fucking hard can it be...
Let's see here.

Fuck you!

Holy hell, look at how he's driving!

- What the hell's he doing?
- Brake!

What the hell?!

Now the merry-go-rounds are turning.
Damn, he was airborne.

- Is that all?
- Eh...a gas can.

- With gas.
- Do you have your own can?

- No.
- Uh-huh.

- And a lighter.
- Yeah, one of those?

Yes. We're having a barbecue too.

Meat. I'm mad about barbecuing.

- It's the time of year for that now.
- Yes, that's true.

But what?! Shit!

God damn it!

He doesn't seem too talkative.
That's a shame, he seemed so eager.

Shit!

Is he alive or what?

Yes, but he's bleeding
a lot from his head.

Hello!

Argh...

But what the hell is this...

- Get in quickly, for Pete's sake!
- What the hell's with people?

Swiping someone's car in broad daylight,
They should be locked up!

He'll get damned surprised
when he opens up the trunk.

Is there no gauze
or something...?

You'll have to use a
curtain or something.

I can't use something dirty.
It has to be clean.

Who's that?

- He was run over.
- But who is it?

- He's lying there bleeding.
- Can't anyone say who he is?

- He was trying to shoot at us.
- Yes, he did!

When he wakes up he's
getting his damn bag.

Give away 50 million?!

Are you stupid, or what?

This never ends. He was about
to shoot us! It's not worth it.

- Allan, they want to give away our money.
- It damn well isn't our money!

Where are we supposed to go now?
- Can you call that Oleg-guy now, Allan?

I found blood, and in my hand I have an
empty casing. A gun cartridge.

Fired? Yes.

What? Well of course
you'll have to send forensics.

He's waking up now.

There, here's you damned bag and
you'll have to leave us alone now!

What?

You're getting your bag that you've
been searching high and low for.

There, we're not calling the cops, just
go and leave us alone.

My bag?

The last thing that happened
was that you pursued us...

I think the three of us
should have a little talk now.

Just a moment.

It is memoria damnum, amnesia.

- Shit!
- There was plenty of that at the home.

- And bedsores.
- How long does one of
these "damn-memos" last?

Memoria damnum...
It could be hours or days.

- The rest of his life if he's unlucky.
- We'll put him here and the bag too.

I'm not giving away 50 million to
someone who doesn't even know it's his!

That's where the line is drawn!

- Well, hello.
- Nevermind about the fuckin' hellos!

What exactly are you
up to there "Gaddan"?

Do you know, who I am?

If I know who you are? Yes I do!
Do YOU know who I am?

- No. Who are you?
- Don't you fuckin' screw with me!

You try and screw with me
boy, you think for one

second, and then I'll
fuckin' screw with you!

Upside, downside, sideways,
up your fuckin' arsehole!

Every fuckin' orifice. You think you're
safe 'cause I'll can't go back to Europe?

- Hello, it's Allan.
- Who?

This is Allan Karlsson.

- Allan Karlsson?
-Allan Karlsson from Malmkoping.

I'll tell you something
mate, you and your fuckin'

pals, you are fuckin' dead.
You understand?

Well, if you want to kill me you better
hurry because I'm a hundred years old.

You my son, are dead fuckin' meat!
Prick!

Meat?

He said I was meat.

Who was it?

Well he never said but. But
he was very careful to

express that he was set to
kill, both left and right.

You mean kill us?

I'm gonna fuckin' kill
them, that's what I'm

gonna do. Patsy, get out
of that fuckin' water!

Joe, get up!
Joe! Get on your fuckin' feet!

There's some crack lad
called Allan Karlsson.

We've got to find out who he is.
Get me online.

Yeah yeah, I know orienteers
are trustworthy people-

-but can't you see
that this is pointless.

It's a crackpot lead. An old man and
an elephant out in the woods. Huh!

We're throwing out the bloody guy and
his bag! You pack this shit up!

- I'm getting out of here anyway!
- Easy now, Gunilla!

First it was real important
to share equally and show

solidarity when it came
to other people's money.

But now there's no
need for consensus anymore.

What do you want, Benny? What
do you feel like? Do you

want to die here? Because
that's what will happen!

No, I don't want that. I want to live.

What kind of a damn
question is that for him

- Hello.
- Hey, Allan! It's Oleg.

- Oleg!
- Listen, we're landing soon.

Where should we fly to? We need to
arrange with landing permits.
Can you hear me?

Just a minute, Oleg.

Pike, where do you think we should go?
We can go anywhere we damn well please.

I don't know.

Just say the first thing
that pops into you head.

- Bali... - Bali? That's good.
- Is that a place?
- It's an island, for Pete's sake.

Hello? Yeah, Bali!

Behind the cinder deposit? What?

I'm sorry, that sounds
a bit strange in my opinion.

But surely I have
the right to voice my opinion?

Yes, I will deal with it. I'm on my way.

- Yes, hello.
- You were right all along.

These other leads had
nothing to do with the centenarian.

Andren issued an international APB.
They've found both the Bolt and the Bucket.

- The Bolt is in Djibouti.
- Djibouti, what is that?

- It's a little state in East Africa.
- Uh-huh, how did he wind up there?

I have no clue.

Do they have DNA so they know it's him?

No, not yet. The suicide bomber made
hotchpotch of the whole square.

Uh-huh. And what happened to the Bucket?

They found him in Riga.
He was squashed in a car crusher.

Didn't you have a theory that he got
shot in Sjotorp. We found blood there.

- That was elephants blood.
- Elephants blood...

The Bucket didn't have any gun wounds,
just crush wounds from the crusher.

And according to the forensics there was
only elephant blood at Sjotorp.

And what about, what was his name,
the Pike, where did he go?

We've got nothing linking
him to the centenarian.

The warrant is not
our jurisdiction.

- So, we've got nothing on no one?
- No, nothing criminal at least.

This is incredible.

I've got the centenarian right in
front of me now - and an elephant.

No shit! Well, ask him if he wants a
ride back to the nursing home.

Over my dead body! Oh no.

- You can let all of this go now.
- Ok, I'll drop it.

I'll drop it.

Despite everything, I've
got to say that you've...

...done some damn fine work.
We'll see you Monday!

See you Monday. Goodbye.

- Ow! It's very tight.
- But it's supposed to be tight.

- But you'll cut off the circulation.
- You do it then.

No, I want you to do it, even
though you suck at it.

- Yes, hello.
- Oh you're still alive are you?

- Well, where the fuck are ya?
- Bali.

Bali? Well you really are taking the
fuckin' piss out of me now aren't ya?

- Ehy?
- What piss, hello?

That's Allan Karlsson.
That's Allan in the next car.

Who?

Patsy, have a look on the left!
Look it's Allan

Karlsson with my bag.
In the car on the left!

I wonder why we humans are drawn to
the sea. The sense of freedom I guess.

Do something! Ram the car!
Do something!

What a crash!

It's a nice island this, Bali.

Hello? Are you left on the phone?

Well well.

Yeah...

What the hell, did you
get malaria already?

What?

- You're as pale as a sheet.
- No...

Things are a bit of a mess right now.
I don't know.

But come on, she wants you!

Yeah, I know. It's only...

Things are getting serious now.
I need to like, make up my mind.

I'll go and fetch us one more.

- It's not everyone's privilege.
- What do you mean?

I mean, to have what you have.

It's a privilege of few.

Go over to her and just say it.

Do I have to say that it's
not everyone's privilege?

No, you make everything
so complicated!

Just walk over.

Well, so... I get what you're saying.
I was just thinking that...

Well, like I said, it's
not everyones privilege.

You never know.

Tomorrow's another day.

- What the hell did you tell him, Allan?
- Why is she shouting at you?

Well, there are a lot of people who have
shouted at me during my life.

Everyone from conductors to dictators.

The first one to scream
because of me was my mother.

I do not remember her screaming,
but I'm pretty sure she did.

I probably screamed too.

That's what new-borns do
the first time they get to look around.

—- Translated by K. Svanholm -—