My mama had always told me
that my papa was an astronaut.
He was on a long voyage
to Mars and back,
and that one day soon,
he'd return.
Good morning, gentlemen.
Get up, get dressed,
get ready for chow.
I was sad that he was gone,
and didn't understand
why he'd leave me and my mama.
If you had given me
a million years to ponder,
I'd never guess
that the trip he was on
wasn't through the vastness
of space in a tiny capsule,
but in a 6-by-11 cell,
here in the great state of California.
For two whole years,
he missed me grow up,
not by choice, but by design.
But then, one lucky day in December
of my eighth year on this world,
he came home.
And even now, looking back
through all the chaos
and violence of that day,
through all the blood and carnage,
it seems little more
than a distant dream.
One, two, zero,
18, 14, roll it up.
But the dream
was really happening,
and it was to change
the path of my life forever.
What would you like to do first?
Yes!
- Oh, my God. Okay.
- Oh, my God.
Ohh!
Oh, oh, oh!
Okay.
Oh, baby.
Oh, baby,
I missed you so fucking much.
I missed you.
I missed you so much.
Air France Flight 66,
now arriving
from Paris Charles de Gaulle.
Next.
Purpose for coming to the United States,
Mr. Chaltiel?
Uh... Business...
Pleasure...
Well, which one is it?
A little bit of both.
I take pleasure in my business.
And what kind of business
are you in?
Retirement planning.
Is there a problem, Officer?
According to the computer,
you were recently removed
from an INTERPOL no-fly list.
It was a computer error.
It made my life a living hell.
I know what you mean.
We had a 10-year-old kid
show up
on our watch list yesterday.
Still, I'm afraid
I'm gonna have to ask you to...
Welcome to the United States, Mr. Chaltiel.
Next.
Mon Dieu.
You really had a lot stored up.
I don't think I've ever
seen so much in one time.
Well, I hope you've never seen
more than that at one time.
It was two years' worth.
- It must've been a full liter.
- Yeah, well,
I did think about you
every day and every night.
Oh, that's so sweet.
And also... kind of gross.
Next time, just use your hand.
There's not going to be
a next time, honeybun.
There better not be...
Redmond, no more shortcuts.
You have too much to lose, okay?
Baby.
Please think of me.
More importantly,
think of your daughter.
Honeybun, you and Bumble Bea
are all I think about.
- Je t'aime.
- Me, too.
Papa! Papa! Papa!
Sweet Bumble Bea,
look how big you are!
I missed you so much.
I don't know what you just said,
Bumble Bea.
When did you start
speaking such good French?
You've been away for two years.
And she didn't exactly
take it well.
I put her in a lyce franais,
and now she refuses
to speak anything but French.
You only speak French now,
Bumble Bea?
- Oui.
- You don't want to speak English with Papa?
Non.
That was English.
But we don't live in France.
We live in America.
People speak English here.
Blah!
- Beatrice.
- I think I understood that one.
So, this is my real punishment.
You did this to yourself.
Hey, welcome back.
- Lolita. So good to see you.
- Nice to see you too.
Oh, Bumble Bea,
I'll be out in a second.
- Welcome back.
- Good to see you, Lolita.
- Uh, Honeybun?
- Hm?
Is it just me,
or did you teach our Mexican nanny
to speak better French
than I do?
First of all,
Lolita is like family,
and we barely have any money,
so she stayed
in exchange for learning French.
And she loves Beatrice.
Second of all,
you don't speak any French.
Well, I don't need
to speak any French.
- I speak the language of love.
- Oh. Very fluent, then.
Mmm!
Hey!
Dickwad!
That's my car
you're breaking into.
No, my friend.
You are mistaken.
This is my car.
Like hell it is, Frenchy.
You think I don't have eyes?
Huh? I'll call the cops.
You...
You're a car thief.
I am not a car thief.
I am much worse.
You are the one
you make it happen
You're going to make a stand
Make a stand
Ba-la ba-lap
Bop ba-ba-da-ba
- Hey.
- Whoo!
Damn, son.
Check out my boy.
Park this car for me.
- Damn.
- Motherfucker just gave me the key.
Whoo-whoo!
You know what they say
about men from Montreal, right?
No. What do they say?
No, please!
- I paid everything. I paid all my...
- Relax.
I'm not here for you.
You're not?
No.
See?
No use in being afraid.
If I was...
you would already be dead.
Yeah.
I guess...
I guess that's true.
It's a metaphor.
He's not talking about... dead people.
Um...
For a moment...
You got me for a moment
you know?
A slight moment,
I thought I was being retired.
But...
Not yet.
Not yet.
Okay.
But if they do
send me for you...
I will do it
so you do not see it coming.
I will make it painless.
Okay.
I don't know what to say.
Thank you.
But, then, why the visit?
I mean, usually they don't send you unless...
I'm in town
on personal business.
I need some...
tools.
Why didn't you
say it immediately?
Tools! Man, yeah!
You've come to the right place. Tools!
Because I'm his tool guy.
That's why he came to me.
Hey.
Yeah! Let's go up to the roof.
Let's... I'm his tool guy.
No.
The ladies.
There you go, mec.
The finest firepower
French South-Central
has to offer.
All clean serial numbers.
The only handguns you have...
are GLOCKs?
Yeah, I know, I know. These fucking
gangbangers, they just want GLOCKs, you know?
I try to carry a variety,
but they just want GLOCKs, GLOCKs, GLOCKs.
"Hey, I want me
a motherfucking GLOCK, yo."
I gave in to market pressure.
Now, it's the only handgun I carry.
The GLOCKs are
de la merde at long range.
You have detonator
for the C-4?
Yeah, sure,
whatever you want. Yeah.
Oh, yeah,
that's a fine weapon for sniping.
Um, the silencer
is whisper-quiet.
That's a... It's 25-times scope.
It's night vision.
It's...
night vision capable.
What... What are you doing?
Fuck!
It pulls to the left.
If you say so.
I'll take the SIG Sauer,
two MAC-11's,
the MK9...
the Benelli...
- Okay.
- ...two GLOCKs de merde...
- ammunition...
- Fine.
- ...eight ounces of C-4 with four detonators.
- Sure.
I also want that girl
you were talking to.
What? Sabine?
She's my girlfriend.
And what is mine is yours.
Mec.
Mm.
It's familiar.
- Oh, yeah?
- Mm.
I wanted to channel
your experience.
That's...
Yeah, that's what I looked at for two years.
Do you like it?
Yeah. Yeah.
Of course. It's...
- It just really captures the...
- Ennui?
Exactly, exactly.
This thing is dripping in ennui.
I want the viewers to feel the jaded
Brechtian ennui of confinement
that contrasts the luxurious
debauchery of vapid freedom.
Well, I'll take "luxurious debauchery"
and "vapid freedom" any day.
I used real cinder blocks
to texturize it
and the same lead paint
that they used at your jail.
Mm, well,
the devil is in the detail.
Honeybun,
I sincerely hope
that you sell
every single one of these,
because I don't know if I want
them hanging in our house.
You shouldn't say that.
This one's not for the show.
It's for you.
I think I'm going to hang it
above our bed.
You know, I'm kidding.
I love anything you make.
I should be lucky
to sell anything at all.
It really has been hard
since you left.
I had to use almost
every dime of our savings
to pay for
Beatrice's education.
It's been very stressful.
Don't you worry, all right?
Papa will provide.
- Oh, really?
- Really, really.
How?
I've got a little rainy-day
stash hidden away.
You're such an outlaw.
No, I'm not, not anymore.
I've got you and Bumble Bea
to take care of.
- So, when's the show?
- Tonight.
Tonight? Tonight?
Today's tonight? Tonight today?
Today, tonight. Yes.
I just got out of the joint,
and I'm, like, I'm really freaked
out by the largeness of the world.
I was hoping we could maybe stay
in and watch a movie or something.
Or something?
Yeah.
Honestly,
I haven't seen a movie in two years.
The dayroom TV was just
permanently shitty sitcoms
and fuckin America's Dumbest videos,
and it did my head in.
Seven o'clock.
Lolita will be watching Beatrice.
I've been working on this for ten months.
It's very important to me.
It would be very important
for me to have you there.
Of course,
I'm going to be there.
And maybe when we get back home, we can...
do something.
If you're good.
But when I'm bad I'm better.
That's true.
Honeybun, I'm gonna
go head down to the shop
and see how badly
Leroy screwed things up.
- Seven o'clock. I love you.
- Love you.
Oh, Fuck!
That's a big fucking dick!
Fuck! Fuck! Oh, give me that dick!
I want your dick, ohh!
You're just gonna let him
humiliate you like this?
What am I supposed to do?
I would kill the bastard
if he did that to my woman.
- In front of you.
- Yeah. In front of you,
as if he's slapping his dick
in your cuckold face.
Fuck the two of you, okay?
Don't you know who that is?
I don't know and I don't care.
Let me kill him for you.
He cannot be killed.
This is Luc Chaltiel, okay?
They call him the Terminator,
because once he's after you
nothing can stop him.
He's like a fucking robot.
He is terminating
your girlfriend's pussy.
You don't get it.
He's crazy.
I am crazy, okay?
But he is crazier!
Did you hear the way he speaks?
You heard his accent?
You know why he speaks that way?
Because he thinks he's French.
Get it?
So better give him whatever he
wants and live to tell the tale.
Chaltiel?
Didn't he have a brother?
Yeah, he did. Killed by the cops.
And they say that's when he...
went nuts, over the deep end.
Now he handles "retirements"
for the Connection.
So just be quiet.
Be nice with him. Huh?
Take a chill pill and don't
rub his fur the wrong way.
Okay?
Baby, yes!
Cum in my mouth!
Cum in my fucking mouth
with that massive fucking dick!
I think they might
be finishing up now?
I would, at least,
consider killing her.
Hey!
Get rid of this for me.
Ohh.
My favorite song.
Jacques, Daniels!
Are you going to introduce me
to your little friends?
Yeah, sure. Um...
This is Pierre,
and this is Louis.
- Guys, this is Luc.
- Oh!
Jacques, you did not tell me
you are running a gay bar.
They're not gay, Luc.
They help me with imports.
They look like
they prefer penis to vagina.
You...
look like the pitcher.
And you look like the catcher.
So, Luc? Uh...
Where's Sabine?
- Who?
- Sabine, my girlfriend.
The one you just fucked
in the toilet.
Oh, her.
Yes.
I cut her throat
when I came to an orgasm.
What?
It avoids
all the uncomfortable
post-coital talk
that is inevitable.
It is cleaner this way.
You...
motherfucking dog!
Excusez-moi?
I don't care who you are.
You come in here, insult us,
fuck and kill his girlfriend,
and then expect...
I expect nothing.
Do you expect something?
Uh... No.
What I want to know is,
did you know that Jacques here
has been embezzling
the Connection?
If no, I let you live.
I just do collections.
Here.
A little higher.
Mmm, to the left.
Mm, I was wrong.
Lower.
Blah!
No, no.
Higher.
No, it's here. Here.
Hm, eh.
No. Lower.
That's enough.
Enough, enough. Enough, enough.
No, down.
Yes.
- I don't know...
- Opening night jitters?
Is it that obvious?
The painting
will be hung perfectly.
- That's all. Take five.
- Oh...
- No, but it's not up yet...
- The painting is perfect.
The opening is going to be
perfect and you are perfect.
You're going to sell
every piece.
- I really hope so.
- Blah!
Hm.
Charming child.
Come with me, Chlo.
I want to have
a private word. Come.
It's not put up.
I need it to be perfect before the show.
- Blah!
- Oh, Beatrice.
Isn't she having fun?
Too much fun, unfortunately.
- Is something the matter, Mr. Blarney?
- Please...
We have been working together
long enough.
You can call me Derrek.
Okay, Derrek.
Is something wrong?
Since you came into my life,
Chlo, no.
Nothing could ever be wrong.
In fact, these last months...
preparing for the show with you,
working hand in hand,
have been some of the happiest
of my life.
Oh. Um...
I love you, Chlo.
I can't repress
these feelings anymore.
Damn being professional!
Damn it all to hell!
- I have to have you.
- My daughter is here and I'm married.
He doesn't love you. No man who truly
loves a woman as incredible as you
would leave you for two years
for something as petty as work.
I know I wouldn't. I would burn
this gallery to the ground for you.
- To the ground!
- That's a little dramatic.
And as for Beatrice, well,
she hardly knows the man.
She can live with us.
Mr. Blarney...
- Derrek.
- I am married.
- I love my husband.
- The fool has had his chance, now it's mine.
He doesn't even have to know.
It can be
an affaire d'amour secret.
I'll settle for hidden love.
Oh!
Make love to me,
my French kitten!
Mr. Blarney, control yourself.
No, no.
No. It feels so good
to finally end
this lie I've been living.
Seeing you, smelling you.
You have no idea the restraint I've used.
No, and I don't want to know.
I have a husband.
And he did not leave us
for work.
The truth is he...
just got out of prison.
Prison?
- What do you mean, "prison"?
- Yes.
He's a criminal.
A hardened criminal.
But you said,
and I quote,
your husband
"was transferred upstate."
He was.
You said, again, I quote,
"He left us alone and having
to fend for ourselves."
What is this?
An inquisition?
- Yes or no? Answer the question!
- Well, it was true.
At the time, it was true.
I don't know what else to tell you,
Mr. Blarney.
But if you lay
a single finger on me,
my husband, he...
he is a very possessive man.
- Is he?
- Mm-hmm. Yes, he is.
He can be very dangerous.
So, I think it's best if we
just forget this ever happened.
I really hope this has no
effect on the show tonight.
- So that's how it is.
- What is?
I've extended
not just my heart to you,
but all of
my professional resources.
I see now
that I have been led on.
- Played...
- No, it's not like this.
I'm very fond of you.
And I'm very grateful
for all of the help and support
that the gallery has given me,
but we must
keep things professional.
Can he support you, Chlo?
Without resorting to crime,
of course.
Can he clothe
your beautiful daughter?
Feed you?
Shelter you?
Offer you a life, a real life,
with success and fame?
Most of all, will he be there?
I'm going to go home
and get ready.
And I'm going to pretend
this never happened.
Prison or no, he left you once,
that's who he is.
He will leave you again.
Have you closely read your
contract with my gallery?
Your retainer is in the form
of a short-term loan.
If the said loan is not covered
within 48 hours after... the show,
I will be well within my rights
to foreclose.
Please don't do this.
We're broke.
I've been living off of
that money for over a year.
Coincidentally,
the same year your husband was gone.
If you walk out that door,
I will,
per the terms of your contract,
exercise my option to take
"adversarial possession."
You better pay up or pray
you sell your paintings.
If...
If you walk out that door.
Hm?
Ah.
Just a prisoner
Of society, society, society
Society, society
Society, society
Honey, I'm home.
The man has returned!
G'day, mate.
What's happening, babe?
- Good to see you, mate.
- You too, man.
Thanks for taking care
of everything.
You know I got you, brother.
Hey, listen,
I just want you to know
that I will reciprocate for that one,
man, that should've been me.
Nah,
it's a quick two minutes.
No, still,
you had more to lose than I did.
Chlo, Bea.
I held down your house for you,
but I still owe you
for that one, man.
All that time you lost. Shit.
Like, for real, I'd...
I'd take a bullet for you, man.
No, mate, don't say that.
You got an open ticket with me.
Thanks, mate.
- Shop looks good.
- Yeah.
Oh, I...
Actually, there is...
- one thing I wanted to ask you.
- Say the word, man.
How come...
Why didn't you come and visit me
when I was in there?
Uh...
Yeah, um, I...
I just...
I wasn't trying to see you
in no cage, man.
Yeah, I wouldn't want to see
you in one either, mate.
You're a good friend, Leroy.
Yeah, about that...
- I don't go by Leroy no more.
- Really?
- No, man. I changed my name a year ago.
- To what?
Le Roi.
- It's the same thing.
- No, it ain't.
It's spelled L-E space R-O-I,
like, "the king" in French.
Franco-phonetically speaking,
it should be pronounced le roi,
but I'm ain't trying
to confuse nobody, not me.
- Get out.
- I know, right.
Fucking Le Roi, man.
How cool is that?
You can't honestly
be expecting people
to walk around
and call you "the king."
But it ain't "the king."
It's Le Roi.
Yeah, not to anyone
who speaks French.
Look, Chlo's down with it.
Everybody calls me Le Roi now.
So I'm just saying.
- Yeah?
- Yeah.
Yeah, well, not me.
To me you're "Leroy."
Why you gotta
be like that, Red?
Imagine if I started
calling myself "Rouge."
You're using the French pronunciation.
I told you it's confusing.
Now, if they called you "Rogue"
that would be cool, right?
No, it's not.
It was Chlo's idea, man.
Ernesto,
what a delightful surprise.
Surprise, my ass.
You're on supervised probation, dickwad.
You check in with me
and only me.
I was going to.
It's been what?
Four hours?
I mean, can I have a chance
to see my family, my friend,
take a shit,
breathe some free air?
Free air ain't something
you gonna get from me, scumbag.
I'm gonna choke you
day in and day out.
You gonna wish
you was back in the hole.
I still can't fucking believe they
let your squirrelly ass walk.
Motherfucking 50-50 time.
If that was up to me,
you'd have done a full nickel.
Good thing it's not up to you.
Can it, jungle monkey.
I'll dig up some shit on your black ass,
bust you down so hard,
you'll be calling me "Massah."
- Leroy.
- It's "Le Roi."
May I introduce
my parole officer,
the ever-charming
Ernesto Sanchez?
Up against the wall.
You, you put your hands right there,
where I can see them.
Go on, you know the drill.
That's right,
very good, you still remember.
You might as well tell me now
'cause I will find them.
And I will nail you
for it when I do.
You got anything on you?
- No.
- No? You packing a piece?
- No.
- No? You got any smack, pot,
crack, meth,
controlled narcotics?
- No.
- Any benzodiazepines?
OxyContin?
Unprescribed pharmaceuticals?
No, sir.
Ooh.
Fill this.
Test dirty, you're going back.
Seriously, man. He just got out.
You think he's using?
I don't know
what to think, sambo.
Your friend here has a history
with a heroin problem.
Hey, that was
a long time ago.
I was a kid.
I didn't have a family then.
That didn't keep you
from pulling off that gig,
busting that bank vault again.
It wasn't a bank.
It was an investment banking firm,
you know that.
And they're the real
fucking criminals, anyway.
I was essentially
stealing stolen money.
Grand theft is grand theft.
Unless it's Grand Theft Auto.
What'd you say?
It's an inside joke.
This is the whole shop?
All this?
Yeah. What you see
is what you get.
Yeah. It's not much
but it's home to us.
Frankly, I just can't believe
that the court
let you keep this
sorry excuse for a shop.
It's a legitimate business.
Are you a dissenter?
Am I at the center?
- Yeah, I'd like to think so.
- No.
Are you a dissenter?
Dissenter?
Do you mean to cause dissent?
I just misunderstood
what you said, man.
Well, don't misunderstand this.
Fuck you! And keep
that cocksucker of yours shut
'cause I will fill it up
with dicks.
Now, I know you're into
some stinky shit, fire-crotch.
And I'm gonna be watching you.
You make one misstep
and that's a parole violation,
and that makes me
motherfucking happy,
'cause I get to send you upstate
and forget about you.
So no drugs, no guns.
No bitch-ass infractions. You got that?
I got that.
Who's the man?
- You're the man.
- That's right. Because I got the badge.
And all you got
is five years' parole.
That's a long time, Red.
It's going to be hard for a guy
like you to stay clean that long.
You're gonna fuck up.
When you least expect it,
I'm gonna be there.
Have a wonderful day, Sanchez.
Fuck you!
It took every
last ounce of my strength
not to reciprocate
what I owe you
by blowing that motherfucker
a new asshole between the eyes.
Namaste
or the meditative restraint,
but please don't worry about Sanchez,
all right?
He's a cop.
Likes to hear himself talk, that's it.
He lost his wife and kids a while ago.
That's why he so bloody mean.
Anyway.
A couple of years
of playing by the rules...
...then I'm all good.
- After you, sir.
- After you, bro.
Thanks, mate.
Check this out.
What have you got? Ooh!
Romeo y Julieta.
I'm a sucker for a love story.
Cheers, man.
Relax. Kick your feet up.
- It's good to be out.
- That's what I'm talking about.
Acclimate yourself
to the good life again, bro.
I like your ride.
It is pimped. Yes?
- Do you know who I am, ese?
- No.
I like your car.
Let's see.
So...
Where are they?
Fuck else?
Big red.
The old Krueger 88.
That's the one safe
Houdini couldn't crack.
Houdini didn't have
your skills, dawg.
As far as I know,
you're the only dude
to have cracked a Krueger 88.
That was a long time ago,
and I got lucky.
The tumblers hadn't been reset.
It was...
That was more ass
than class, really.
You gonna try it?
- I'm rusty. I'm rusty.
- How are you gonna be in lockup
and ain't take the opportunity
to practice on the locks?
Ain't shit else to do.
I promised Chlo one last score, okay?
That was the deal.
But that's what you do, man.
Birds gotta fly,
fish gotta swim.
You gotta crack locks, bruh.
Do you?
Come on, don't be a pussy.
You know you want to.
All right.
See, that's what
I'm talking about.
If I'm gonna do this, I need silence.
Turn that music off.
G'day.
It's like...
- Like watching fucking da Vinci paint.
- Shh.
Come on, come on, come on.
Fuck.
Yeah. Ain't no thing.
Happens to everybody.
Two years is a long time, man.
It'll come back to you.
Yeah.
Tell me you still got
that key.
Shit, I've done carried
this damn key on me
the whole time
you was inside, man.
That's my man.
There they are.
Six hundred thousand
in 1933 US treasury notes.
- The mother of all takes.
- You know what you're gonna do with your half?
I was in that shithole
for 730 days, and...
I spent this money differently
every single day.
But...
And every day, I spent it
with Chlo and Bumble Bea.
- I hear that.
- What about you?
Mine's going straight to the
investment portfolio, you know?
Low expense ratio,
passively managed index funds and shit.
And to make sure my asset allocation
has global diversification,
I'ma start a strip club.
Wait.
Featuring bubble butts from every nation.
Good to know it's going
back to the strippers.
Hey, man,
I'm just trying to reciprocate.
Right on, brother.
So what you saying tonight, man?
You wanna hit Jet Strip tonight?
Scout some talent?
I'd love to, mate, I would.
But, um...
It's, uh...
- It's Chlo's art show tonight.
- Oh, right.
And I was just wondering,
well, um...
- if you'd come with me.
- Me?
Man, you know I can't stand
that bougie-ass gallery crowd.
Pretentious, know-it-all,
flat-ass society motherfuckers.
Get the fuck out of here
with that bullshit.
You remember what happened
last time I went?
Everyone remembers what happened
last time you went.
- Seriously, man, I can't do it alone.
- You ain't alone. You got Chlo.
She's gonna be off kissing
hands and shaking babies,
and I'll be standing in the corner,
trying not to look like a convict.
Please?
- For our friendship?
- Shit, you really gonna play that card right now?
It's the best card I got.
You know I got you, brother.
Thanks, mate.
- Don't lose that key.
- No, man. I'm gonna keep that safe right here,
right next to my heart.
Pull over the vehicle.
Put your hands
where I can see 'em.
Are you fucking kidding me
with this shit?
Hey!
How may I help you, Officer?
- It is not legal to drive like this.
- Like what?
Lower the vehicle now.
Ah.
One moment.
Let me see.
Hey!
Put that down.
Unit 666 requesting backup.
Officer down! Requesting backup.
Officer down!
Officer down!
We need backup.
Radio this
to your little friends.
Bang!
You are dead.
The Devil! The Devil!
The Devil!
Aww.
I don't get it.
We all give head.
Pancho represents the oppression
in the justice system.
Pancho must give head
because his life depends on it.
Perhaps I get it too well.
Your narrative is showing.
Excuse me.
I don't get it.
I am definitely
not buying anything here.
I just don't like it.
I don't know what's worse,
the art or her outfit.
I detest the entire
"minimalism as faux spiritualism" phenomenon.
- What do you think?
- I think you're a fucking douchebag.
Work clearly displays a capacity
for emotional loneliness.
It has a cautionary subtext.
As if you'd know.
I'll have you know
that I've been collecting art
since the early '90s.
I have a Damien Hirst
in my collection
as well as
an early Sarah Morris.
So unless you have a Jeff
Koons shoved up your ass,
I'd kindly invite you
to suck my balls.
- This isn't an original.
- ...spent the last two years in a bathroom
- rather than a prison.
- Oh, I've seen this.
My dear, let me introduce you to
our most important Chinese buyer.
- But I have to go...
- The reception to your work is on the fence.
If you sell anything,
it will be because of me.
Think about my offer.
This is a woman
who's been left alone.
Abandoned by her husband.
Abused by the system.
Whoa, slow down with that,
brother.
This thing's
real important to Chlo.
Uh, have you seen the people here, mate?
This is fucking bullshit.
Yeah, I know,
but it kept her sane while you were inside.
Gave her hope.
Yeah. Yeah, you're right.
This is Ms. Kok.
Ms. Kok,
pleasure to meet you.
She flew in for the show
all the way from Beijing.
- Oh.
- Congratulations! Your work is very interesting.
Thank you.
But we have many like it
in China.
- Do you know the work of Chang Cheng?
- Um...
I feel that your wall series is very
similar to his wall series from 1994.
In fact, I've got three of those
hanging in my London apartment.
Unfortunately,
they make a lot of bad replicas,
available at the Silk Market.
But yours looks like
fake Chang Cheng.
- But a good fake.
- Mm.
I don't know the work
of Mr. Chang Cheng,
but if you can't
see the difference,
then you also won't be able
to see the details.
So it really doesn't matter.
Have a safe trip
back to Beijing.
Hottie!
She is very innocent
and cute.
- Artists!
- I see it in her work.
It's like One Wants to Fly
Over the Cuckoo's Hut.
- Yes.
- Almost retarded and spastic.
- Oh, well, then you...
- Yes.
You must buy a few then.
Charity! Save the children!
I'm so proud of her.
Yeah, man.
There she is.
Congratulations!
- It's a disaster.
- What?
- There's so many people here.
- No.
They're ripping me apart
like vultures.
They're calling me
a hack and a thief.
But that's my job
in the family.
It's not funny.
They hate it.
I'm sure it's not that bad.
- I hate it.
- Yes, but is it even worth your hatred?
- Oi!
- Ah...
Please. Don't embarrass me.
No, I'm not gonna embarrass you.
I'm sticking up for you.
This isn't a prison yard.
You can't do that here.
You're right.
It is much more cutthroat here.
- Right.
- I'm really freaking out.
That's the critic
from ArtQuake.com.
I have to go now
before this becomes a bloodbath.
Good luck, honeybun.
I love you.
Okay.
Someone please take her
brush and lock her up in a cell.
Red. Red.
Unbelievable.
- That's my wife you're talking about.
- You have my deepest sympathies.
That's funny.
I'll kill you, mate!
Excuse my friend.
He's had a few too many.
You're a crumb!
- What the fuck is a crumb?
- Come on, man.
"A few too many"?
Whose side are you on, Leroy?
It's Le Roi.
And you can't be getting into fights, bruh.
I won't be
purchasing any art here.
Don't think these lackadaisical
motherfuckers won't call the cops
and throw your ass back
in jail, man.
They'll do that shit.
How's that help Chlo, huh?
God!
You need to
get out of here, man.
Like, just go.
I'll explain it to her.
I couldn't stand there
while someone was
talking shit about my wife.
This ain't even
about you, brother.
It's about Chlo.
It's her night.
Just calm the fuck down
and step outside for a minute.
Ooh, ah.
Finally.
Uh-uh.
You're welcome,
Your Highness. Hm.
Look at this mess.
Look at that.
Hello.
May I help you?
Yes.
I would like for you to help me.
Perhaps...
I have the wrong apartment.
The owner of the house
isn't home. Mister...
You can call me Luc.
I'll wait for them to return.
Excuse me!
You can't come in here.
Excuse me.
You can't come in here.
- No?
- No!
I believe I just did.
You need to leave now
and come back when they return.
But I'm a friend of the family,
in from France
on vacation.
I'm afraid I must insist.
If you must.
Are you a Mexican?
What difference does that make?
None at all.
I was just wondering
where my dear old
family friends are.
And why they have a Mexican woman in
their home while they're not here.
None of your business.
Now, if you don't leave,
I'm going to call the police.
Ahh.
Listen to the red-hot jalapeo
making spicy threats.
Get out!
And what if I don't?
What if I call Immigration
instead?
Yes. This is more like it.
Give it to me,
my red-hot spicy habanero.
Ohh.
You speak franais.
The language of love.
You have a little girl.
No.
Red's little girl.
En garde.
Oh. Ow.
Lola. Lola.
Run.
GLOCKs.
Oh, why couldn't she have been
a pop star?
Right.
It's been ten minutes.
- Fuck.
- What the fuck is he doing here?
Shit on a shingle.
Is that Sanchez?
Shit.
Honeybun,
why did you invite my parole officer?
Because he's
a serious art collector.
Did you know that he owns
an original Damien Hirst?
Ah, that defies logic.
And it's beside the point.
The point is,
nothing good can come from him being here.
Well, he is here.
So there's nothing
I can do about it now.
Oh, honey, I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
Fuck, that was selfish of me.
This is your night,
and I'm here for you 100%.
You all right, honeybun?
This is all such bullshit.
I don't care about any of this.
I don't care about these people.
I just... I did it for you.
And now we're going to be
in debt to Mr. Blarney.
In debt to Derrek?
We are gonna owe fucking Derrek money?
We are broke.
I've spent all the money from the advance.
And none of these paintings
are going to sell. And...
And what? And what? And what?
Tell me, honey.
No. You don't want to know,
trust me.
Yeah, I probably want to know.
- It doesn't matter.
- What? What happened?
Tell me. What?
Did Derrek try and touch you?
I'm going
to fucking kill that...
Hey, you're on probation.
- And the man is within earshot.
- Yeah, good.
Sanchez will hear
it when I crush Derrek's skull
with some
fucking installation art!
Jesus, Red.
Have you learned nothing?
If you abandon us
and go back to prison,
I will divorce you.
You understand me?
- Yeah, absolutely.
- Finito.
I understand. I just...
He's such a fucking creep.
And I was just trying
to defend your honor.
Well, don't.
Just get me out of here before
this becomes a zombie apocalypse.
- Yeah, okay.
- Yeah, it's a little too late for that.
Thank you for sugarcoating it.
Honey, I don't give a rat's ass
if any of these paintings sell.
To tell you the truth,
I don't want any of them to sell.
I want them all
hanging in our home.
Ohh.
I love you but you'll still
have to pay for them.
Well then I can pay for them in kisses.
Kisses will not
help pay the rent.
Honeybun, I told you, all right?
Papa will provide.
I'm going to get my coat.
Okay.
- Sorry you had to see that, man.
- Yeah, man.
Going somewhere?
Home. I'm going home.
Your show is a failure.
I shall have my bank
collect what you owe me.
And you and your miserable family
will be out on the street.
Thank you so much
for all of your support.
I hate what you're going to
make me do.
I can be
an incredibly generous man,
a warm and compassionate lover
and partner.
My husband is here.
But I can also have the capacity
to sever myself from my emotions.
A Blarney family trait,
if you will.
Did you hear that?
Hear what?
Ohh!
If you leave me,
my heart will die.
And there will be nothing left
except cold, dark revenge.
That's all there ever was.
Goodbye, Mr. Blarney.
What kind of man would I be
if I didn't fight for you?
Get out of my way.
No. Hm?
- Lolita? Hello?
- Chlo!
- Chlo!
- What the...
- Derrek!
- I love you, dammit!
Don't you understand?
I love you!
I don't love you.
Chlo!
Get back here right now!
I'll ruin you!
Mama!
- Beatrice!
- Bumble Bea?
Luc Chaltiel?
Oh, shit. Honey, run!
Red!
Everybody, down!
Hit the fucking ground!
Drop it!
Oh, fuck, Jesus.
Don't fucking die, Leroy.
- It's Le Roi.
- I told you, mate, that sounds fucking stupid.
How bad is it, man?
It's fucking bad, brother.
I'm coming to get you,
motherfucker.
Oh, no.
Bubble butts.
- What was that?
- Spread it around.
To bubble butts?
We gotta reciprocate, brother.
I will. I will.
I promise. I promise.
I love you, bro.
Just go.
Red!
Oh, shit. Oh, thank God.
Oh, thank God. Oh, my God.
- Beatrice, what are you doing here?
- You need to get out of here!
- This is your fault!
- You brought him here!
Tell me if there's
another way out of here.
It's the only way out.
It's locked for security reasons.
- Out of the way, hon.
- Get down!
Not on my watch, motherfucker.
- Where is the car?
- It's at the corner!
Okay, Bumble Bea. Now strap in.
And keep your head really, really low.
Oui, Papa.
- Keys!
- Maybe I should drive?
I'm a better driver than you.
And you are
a better shot than me.
Yeah, you're right.
Of course I'm right.
Wait, hold on a minute.
What do you mean "shot"?
There's a Lady Derringer
in the glove box.
- Lady who?
- Le Roi gave it to me for self-protection.
Um...
Honeybun, the bad guy is coming.
Let's get the fuck
out of here, eh?
- Shoot the gun!
- Yeah, right.
Do I have to
do everything around here?
Where is he?
Where the fuck did he go?
You blew out
my fucking eardrums.
Shit. I'm sorry, honeybun.
I can't hear your apology
because I'm deaf now!
Who is that man?
And why is he trying to kill us?
What? What is that look?
What look?
That guilty look.
What is it you're not telling me?
His name is Luc Chaltiel, okay?
And he is pretty much
at the top of the mob's
psychopath totem pole.
His brother is the one who died
during the investment bank job
I did time for.
So what?
He is looking for revenge?
Among other things, yeah.
Oh, great.
Other things?
What other things?
Probably the bearer bonds.
What bearer bonds?
From the investment bank job.
I thought they were destroyed.
I... You told me that you got
off light with only two years
because they were destroyed.
Yeah, well, not all of them,
okay? And I lied.
And fucking why not?
- This money is our ticket out.
- Mm, great.
That's just great, Red.
You made me a promise!
Do you know what that is?
- Yes, honey.
- A promise! Do you?
It's a guarantee or an assurance
that one will do a particular thing
or that guarantees
a particular thing will happen.
Just because
you've been sitting in jail
with enough time on your hands
to read the dictionary
doesn't mean you know
what the definition means.
You're right, honeybun.
I'm sorry.
- How much?
- What?
How much is it worth?
It's our entire future.
How much?
- Our cut is 500,000.
- Dollars?
Yeah, I mean, tax free.
It's all ours.
You said it was just a stash.
This is the stash.
This is not a stash.
- This is hot money.
- Look, it's our ticket out of here.
And it's the only ticket
we've got. It's the reason
I spent the last two years
away from you and Bumble Bea.
And I'm gonna make damn sure that
wasn't a fucking waste of time!
- Why are you yelling at me?
- Because I love you.
Where is it?
It's at the shop.
We need to get it.
I agree.
Sit tight, honeybun.
I'll be back in a few minutes.
You've got to be shitting me.
What is "a few minutes"?
A few minutes. I don't know.
Long enough to open the safe
and get the bonds in a gym bag,
and I'll be back.
A gym bag?
Or a suitcase, whatever.
It doesn't matter.
Look, Leroy gave me the master key,
so I won't be long.
Go. And be quick about it,
please.
Don't zone out
like you always do.
You're beautiful
when you're serious.
- Red, you're still standing there.
- Shit. Right.
Keys.
Thanks, honeybun.
Okay.
Money, money, money, money
You really
were the king, brother.
Okay.
We will sail today.
- Bumble Bea?
- Papa!
Bumble Bea, what are you doing?
Honeybun!
Take Beatrice and go.
If you run, I will shoot you.
Excusez-moi.
Maman!
It's gonna be all right,
honeybun.
Get your hands off of me.
It's okay.
This is a nice place you have,
Red.
Long time no see, mate.
It has been a long time.
Yeah.
So...
what the fuck, Luc?
Red, Beatrice.
Sorry. Sorry.
You killed my brother.
Now, it is my pleasure
to kill you
and your entire family.
Now, hold on a second.
Now, hold on, mate.
Is that what this is about?
Mate, you've got it all wrong.
Mate, the job went south.
The cops showed up.
I mean, everything went to shit.
And your brother started
acting a little...
You know?
You know what he was like.
I didn't kill him.
The cops did.
- You lived.
- What, so I've gotta die just because he dies?
That's not fair.
We know the risks.
And the cards fell
where the cards fell.
Your brother,
he went down in a blaze of glory.
You'd be proud.
It was just like he lived.
And no disrespect, but...
I had other plans.
I got a family, a wife...
a daughter.
I just got out of the joint, mate.
Literally this morning.
- I know.
- You know?
I have waited two years for you
to be released from prison,
where I could have
had you killed.
But this would have been
inelegant.
"Inelegant."
I wanted to see you myself.
And now...
that it is here
in front of my eyes...
it is more delightful
than I ever could imagine.
No, no!
Hold on, hold on a second.
Wait, wait, wait, wait.
Just one...
One second.
Six hundred grand in untraceable
US bearer bonds in this bag.
You can have it all.
And me.
Just leave my family alone,
and it's all yours.
- No, Red, please.
- No, honey, just a second.
I'm negotiating
with this gentleman.
Please. No.
This would not be revenge if I
did not take everything from you.
It would not be...
poetic.
Besides...
it is mine
even if I kill all of you.
Well, I mean, if you're gonna think
about it and logic it out and stuff,
- I guess you're right.
- Red, goddammit, do something!
Oh!
No!
Run!
Your daughter will die
in this safe... slowly.
Do not breathe very much.
You have air
for five minutes only.
Not that anyone
will be able to get her out.
Fuck you.
I give you a little kiss.
Au revoir.
Red!
Red, help!
Red!
Bumble Bea.
Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck.
Bumble Bea, Bumble Bea,
listen to Papa, okay?
Red, help!
Okay.
I promise, okay?
Sodomy.
Run, honeybun!
Oh, shit. Oh, shit.
Freeze, motherfucker,
or I will make you dead.
No!
Nice shooting, Sanchez.
Lucky day.
Honeybun!
Oh, thank goodness. Oh, God.
Are you all right?
You okay? Are you okay?
Okay.
Bumble Bea.
- Bumble Bea! It's Papa!
- Beatrice!
Can you hear me?
Are you all right?
- Beatrice!
- Freeze!
- Hands above your head.
- Sanchez, please!
I said,
"Hands above your head."
- You too!
- I am not going to put my hands up.
Lady, I may just be
a parole officer,
but I'm also
a motherfucking cop.
Okay?
I will blow you away
with complete impunity.
So I'm gonna advise you,
put your motherfucking hands above your head,
or I'm gonna shoot you both dead
and call it a motherfucking day.
- My daughter is in there!
- Then just shoot me then, mate.
Okay? Our daughter's in that safe,
she's running out of air.
If I don't crack it right now,
she's dead.
For fuck's sake, Sanchez!
I know I'm in deep shit. I know that.
Just let me crack this safe and you can
throw me away for as long as you want.
Please don't let her die.
No funny stuff.
I'm gonna keep my eye on you.
You've opened
this safe before, right?
Is this an easy safe
to crack, honey?
I've only done it once.
But you've done it.
- Kind of.
- "Kind of"? What the fuck's that mean?
It means if it can be done,
I'm gonna do it.
Now shut the fuck up.
Then stop talking
and fucking do it.
Okay.
I don't hear her.
- It's fine. It's fine.
- I can't hear her.
I'm gonna get her out of here.
I'm gonna get her out. I'm gonna get her out.
Eight, two, four.
Two, four. Two, four.
Bumble Bea! Bumble Bea!
- Oh, oh.
- Oh, my sweet.
Thank you, Papa.
Thank you, Papa.
It's all right, Bumble Bea.
Okay.
Thank you, Sanchez.
Are you okay?
No, Red.
The way I see it...
there's no evidence.
There's no evidence.
There ain't no court
that's gonna
make any of this stick.
You're not gonna bust me?
Really, it ain't a violation
if you've got some crazy madman
randomly attacking you.
Shit. They'll probably even give me a
medal for stopping this rampage, you know?
Put me back on
the fucking streets again.
Thank you so much, Sanchez.
Thank you, Officer.
I got a hard job.
I ain't a cop,
and I ain't a social worker.
And I gotta be both.
There's one thing
I learned about...
in this job, and that's...
when people are in love...
there's a chance.
Well, there's plenty of
parole violations right here.
You better get out of here before I
come to my senses and take you in.
Go on. Get out of here.
We're going home now.
Everything's all right.
Come on, let's go.
I love you, Lolita.
Are you all right, honey?
They are going
to stop our water.
Well, bottled water's
better for us.
At least we're not
being evicted.
No, but we just got the notice.
I mean, did we see ourselves
living here forever?
Right.
Let's just run away.
I don't know
what we're going to do, Red.
With everything we owe...
As cheesy as it sounds,
we have our lives, and we're together.
And, well, that's all
that really matters.
Hm.
Maybe we move back to Paris.
You would do that?
I'd do anything for you.
So is this the end
of the story now, Mommy?
No, I don't think so, sweetie.
Shh, shh. Hey.
- Chlo. Red.
- Mr. Blarney?
It's completely unprecedented,
a phenomenon.
What is?
We sold the entire show.
It was a sensation.
The Chinese bought three.
There was a bidding war
over the largest piece.
It fetched 300,000.
But how?
With cash.
Once people saw
the paintings finished,
well, the offers
started pouring in.
Some over the Internet,
sight unseen. I mean,
the word really spread out.
I mean, it went viral.
So hold on a second.
What do you mean, "finished"?
Well, the blood.
The blood of your critics.
They say
you're the next Jeff Koons.
There's tremendous excitement
over your next show.
I, of course, would...
I would front
a sizable advance.
After all, we do work together
quite well, don't you think?
- It's upside down.
- Mm.
Thank you, child.
There you are.
Now, that is, of course, an advance
on current sales and future earnings.
Good faith, and all.
- Future earnings?
- Mm.
I don't know.
You simply can't
leave me behind, Chlo.
Now, remember,
I took you to where you are now.
- I made you. So you...
- We'll call you, mate.
They're not going
to turn off our water.
The end.
- Ow!
- Ooh!
Two, three, four.
One, two, three, four.
One, two, three, four...
One, two, three, four...
For your love
I was on fire
Burning flames
Thought you could hide
Couldn't even
Get much higher than this
Splitting, burning,
Flaming fire
Burn me down
Right to the ground
Couldn't, wouldn't even
Get much higher than this
Even if we were to try
Wouldn't that
Just be a lie?
But do we even
Stand a chance
With this bad romance
You and I back in this bed
No Chlo and Red
You and I
Oh, Chlo and Red
What I said
Chloe and Red
In my head
Chlo and Red
Hello, Officer.
Could you take your glasses off,
sir?
Okay.