I mean, rules are, like, arbitrary, you know.
Made up for people who believe in fairy tales...
...like, you know, like Santa Claus.
Hey, but not us, right? I mean, we know what's important.
There's a war going on, man.
A war. Ain't that a bitch?
I just graduated today, man. With honors.
Got my degree in pharmacology. I'm licensed.
Look, if you write me up on this drug charge, I won't be able to practice.
So, what we're talking about here is my life. The rest of it.
The '60s are over. Man.
Jody and Nick...
...you have come together in this church so the Lord may seal...
Is it true this is the biggest deal you've cut with the FBI?
I now pronounce you man and wife.
- Aren't you supposed to be in court? - Case adjourned.
They seemed to run out of witnesses!
Frees up the Lizard for other business.
One hundred large was deducted from your account, as promised.
Can the Lizard offer a suggestion on how she can...
...work off the rest of her debt? - The Lizard may not.
Go.
You'll thank me later. Go.
No more free meals, let's go.
Christ! It's like a reptile house in here.
Fuck off!
The mix master. To our star chemist, gentlemen, Elmo McElroy.
Where's Durant?
I see five. I don't see the Brit.
- Where the fuck is he at? - Said he'd be here.
Limey faggot needs a lesson in manners.
Fuck Durant. Just tell us about this new wonder drug.
- Get your master chemist in here. - Okay.
Konokko, fetch him. Fetch the Lizard's Elmo.
No Durant.
No McElroy.
Maybe he went out for something.
Nobody goes out for something on deal day!
Now stop your whining, get up off your ass and go find him, now!
Just give me a moment.
This is Elmo McElroy's phone. He's not home.
You know what to do. You know when to do it. Bye.
Tasty Drops?
He fucked me. I'm truly ass-invaded.
You have one new message.
He fucked me. I'm truly ass-invaded.
Rest in peace...
...motherfucker.
- You're going home, Dakota. - I'm going to Vegas.
You listen to me. There's this limey asshole in Liverpool...
... named Durant.
He was supposed to show up for this little deal today. He didn't show up.
The Lizard thinks he stole his Elmo.
I'm not going. I don't care how much I owe.
You listen to me. I want this limey motherfucker Durant off the planet.
And I want Elmo-fucking-McElroy off the fucking planet!
Did you hear what I said? That place has nothing for me.
The Lizard will wipe your marker clean.
Plus a bonus.
One hundred thousand if the job is done in 48 hours.
And after that, there is nothing...
...to stop you from turning right around and leaving again.
- 250. - Get it done.
It's done.
Shite.
Good evening. I'd like to extend a warm welcome to you from the crew...
... on this Virgin Atlantic flight. Please store carryon baggage...
Can I show you to your seat, sir?
We're waiting for our last passengers to board, and then we'll be on our way.
Spit it out!
Spit it out now!
Tommy?
What?
Fucking Yanks.
The trouble with the fucking Yanks is, they have no fucking sense.
Some dick in Los Angeles asked me where I learned English.
NAME: Felix DeSouza OCCUPATION: LOCAL FIXER
Do you have a problem with America, Felix?
I've got one great big, fat, swollen fucker of a problem with America, twat.
Listen to this. I'm in fucking Florida, right.
This southern prat comes up and is like:
"Hey! England's small. You must know that John-fucking-Smith guy, right?"
Fucking Smith. I'm like, "Yeah, yeah, mate, that's right.
John Smith, I do know him, but he doesn't come from England...
...no, he comes from fucking Pricksville, U.S.A."
Gonna answer that fucking phone, or what?
It's just my wife.
Now, when Mr. McElroy joins us, keep your opinions to yourself.
This particular Yank is not a traveling salesman, he's a genius.
Who is this cunt?
So I said to Mr. Durant...
I said, "Mr. Durant, we're going to meet this Yank, McElroy.
Bring him to the deal, and that's it. No conversation and coffee.
No asking how the Tampa Bay Fuck-aneers are doing."
No. I said, "Fuck him." I bring him to the deal.
I get me fucking tickets, and I'm off. That's it.
- Take a left here. - There's no time.
Take a fucking left, will you?
Felix. Felix. Listen. This is a totally new chemical.
Once we have the formula, we can make it in a kitchen.
- We don't even need Durant. - Look, you see that?
Manchester United versus Liverpool.
Blokes are shagging their mothers-in-law for a ticket.
And I'm getting two from Mr. Durant. So unless you can shite a few tickets...
...I suggest you shut the fuck up! - This is a unique opportunity for you.
- We are talking telephone numbers. - Enough. Take care of him.
- He's getting on me tits. - We'll be late.
Fuck the Yank. Let him wait.
Boys and girls of Manchester!
Just popped over from Liverpool...
...to invite you to a game of footy tomorrow afternoon.
But I'm fucking fucked if you pricks are gonna win it!
- Someone get that fucking thing out! - Hey! Get off our bloody green!
Where have you been?
- Just around the block. - Drive, quick.
Let's go meet the Yankee muppet.
Where's Lawrence? Where's he gone? We're late.
- Well, he's... - You left him at the pub.
- Well, you said... - Go back.
Go back and get him.
- Look at this wanker. - Move on, prick. Go on.
Lawrence says, right, he's gonna be carrying a load of drugs, right?
- We do him. Job done. Okay? - Yeah.
I'm not having some fucking nig-nog put us out of business, right?
Right? Watch it, you're pissing on me fucking boots.
- What about Felix DeSouza? - Fuck him.
- He's a rabid dog. - Is he? Well, fuck him!
Fuck him. Leave it to me. I'll rip out his fucking liver. One shot.
No problem.
Hey! Felix DeSouza. Just the wanker I wanted to deal with.
Deal with this.
What a fucking day.
Come in, Arthur. Over.
Why don't you try the big fat button, Arthur.
Yes, sir.
We are looking for a large, black gentleman wearing a dress.
That's what Lawrence said. It should be easy.
Yeah. We want customs to pull him over, right?
Wrong. We want customs to let him through, and you follow him. Over.
- Nog bag. - Right, over.
- What now? - Follow them all. Over.
- Madam, if you don't mind, this way. - No, I've got to go.
Are we finished?
Not quite, miss. I need to look at your shoulder bag.
Welcome to England.
Actually that makes me out to be a liar because...
...you're as welcome as a dose of the clap, but it's nice to be nice.
- Who the hell are you? - Felix DeSouza. Mr. Durant sent me.
- I wanted a chemist. Where's Lawrence? - In the car.
- He should be here. - I should care.
To me, you're a ticket to a game.
Where's the chemist?
Where's Lawrence?
You heard the man. Where's Lawrence?
Put these in the trunk. Get Durant on the phone.
Put these fucking sticks in the boot.
- What's that? - Lawrence.
- I see that. What happened? - You said to take care of him.
Shit! I meant to take care of him, not fucking take care of him.
Shit!
Shut the fucking thing, will you?
Get Durant on the fucking phone right fucking now!
Where's my motherfucking chemist?
- He should be in the car. - Should be?
What kind of fuck up is this? We deal today, or I go to the competition.
- Look, let me speak to DeSouza. - DeSouza? DeSouza?
Boss. It wasn't my fault. Besides, he was irritating.
Right now I couldn't give a gnat's chuff.
- You make sure McElroy gets here. - Where's my chemist?
- I think we need a new chemist. - I know, I can fucking hear him, can't I?
Tell him I'm gonna get ahold of Pudsey Smith, okay?
I am not buying aspirin for a fucking arm and a leg.
- He's getting Pudsey Smith. - Who?
- He's a deaf mute. - Stall him, just stall him.
You keep that Yankee cunt happy and alive.
All right, boss. Yeah.
You fucking twat!
What's the plan then?
Freshen up?
Massage? Maybe a bucket of fried chicken?
If I wanted cuisine, I'd have gone to Paris.
You can still go to France. It's full of pricks. They hate Yanks too.
Do you fancy a bite, or what?
Yeah, all right.
Hello, stranger.
Said hello to lover-boy yet?
Iki, I'm in a hurry. Can we get on with it?
Ruger mini 14,.224-caliber. Comes in a fetching chrome.
Twenty rounds per banana, unless the Iki special takes your fancy...
...extending your capacity to 40. We've got Czechoslovakian.
CZ 84. I'll take one.
That's young Felix's weapon of choice. Now there's a trip down memory lane.
I'm partial to a bit of sentiment, me. I've heard things. He misses you.
- What you going to take? - The Beretta, the CZ and ankle holster.
Add the mini 14. I want to get in and out fast.
- Don't we all. - Does Durant still deal at the Port Hotel?
That'll be his undoing one of these days.
But what do you expect from a fellow who gets his ass waxed?
I forgot what a circus this place is.
I never did like the circus. All that poking your head in a lion's mouth.
Bring on the horses! Get them rogering the dancing girls! That's a circus!
These and these are on the house.
Welcome home, Dawn.
- There you go, mate. - Thanks, mate.
What'd they do to this fish? Batter it to death?
- Fish and chips. National dish, mate. - More like a national disaster.
Keys.
Twat.
Come on.
So how much are they paying you to wear that skirt?
Fag?
No, motherfucker.
Mr. McElroy. That's daring, but very dashing, attire.
Let's stick to the business at hand.
Hey, come on. Mr. McElroy's a guest of the house.
Okay, boys, guns on the table, please.
- Felix. - I've delivered your man.
- Me tickets, and I'm off. - Gun on the table.
- Fuck, the game's tomorrow. - Put your gun on the table!
- So who's the chemist? - Pudsey Smith.
First class. Fully qualified.
He can't talk, he's been shot.
Felix? Have you shit your pants?
Something doesn't feel right.
I know. You're making me nervous.
Sit on your hands.
Okay, Mr. McElroy. The ball's in your court.
MDMA utilizes serotonin.
Opiates, like heroin, utilize dopamine. Like the sensation you get after sex.
Amphetamines increase adrenaline.
Cocaine gets those synapses in the brains firing really fast.
My product is 51 times stronger than cocaine.
Fifty-one times more hallucinogenic than acid.
And 51 times more explosive than ecstasy.
It's like getting a personal visit...
...from God.
It's that good?
Dog's bollocks.
Felix DeSouza.
I count 10.
That's right. That's 1 million sterling or 1.6 million dollars.
But that ain't what we agreed on, is it? You 18.4 million dollars shy.
And I don't care how you cut it, that's a whole lot shy.
No. Mr. McElroy, what we have there is a goodwill gesture.
A deposit. A down payment. 1.5 million is not a bad start, is it?
I need to do some research, feed a few thousand to the kids, get feedback.
You don't think you can walk out with $20 million...
...for a formula that's in your head?
And all I get is, well, an ointment for toe jam.
- Market research. - Right.
Profile your customers. Send out some questionnaires.
Get out the bloody way, Felix.
Yeah, I can dig that.
But unless you got what we agreed on, what am I doing here?
Call when you're ready to deal.
I fucking knew it!
- Room service. - That old fucking chestnut.
Hey! Hold it, fellas.
It's my sausage and flaming mash!
Sorry, love.
Sorry about that.
But my dad's run off with a room-service maid, you see...
...and things have never been the same since.
Bollocks.
- Now's not a good time. - Change in plan.
- What do you mean? - I want McElroy alive.
I don't do alive. I do dead.
It's a matter of $20 million being vaporized.
And a lot of anger directed toward the Lizard Man. You now do alive.
My future is inside McElroy's skull.
You waste anything and everybody that gets near him. You waste them, not him.
His mind belongs to the Lizard.
Shit!
Fucking hell!
Shit! Shit!
Asshole!
Let go, you double-crosser! Let go, they're mine!
Shit!
Told you to get out the way.
- Fuck, I've been shot! - Where?
- In the fucking ass. - Man, it's just a flesh wound, come on.
Flesh wound? Is that supposed to sound like a good thing?
Come on, dude.
- Hey, sooty! Sooty! - So...?!
- Here, take these. - Bastard!
Stay down, bitch.
- You're not driving my car! - Shit!
- Give me the fucking keys. Get in. - Fuck!
Fucking hell!
Get your fat ass out and check the hotel.
What the fuck just happened back there?
- I got shot in the fucking ass, mate! - This is not the way we do business!
- Get out of the fucking car! - All right.
Oh, fuck!
What the fuck are you doing?
Left! Take a fucking left!
- Get off the pavement! - Shit!
Fuck!
- Which fucking way? - Turn right!
- Come on! - Christ!
Hey.
The traffic's coming from the fucking right!
I got it. I got it.
Fuck!
You! Out of my fucking way!
- Bollocks! - The dog's bollocks?
No, plain fucking bollocks.
- No dogs involved? - No!
Watch out! Watch out!
You're gonna kill the fucking car!
Fuck.
Hello.
Let me get this straight.
"Bollocks" is bad, whereas "the dog's bollocks" is good?
Yeah.
Bollocks!
Got you.
Come on, then!
Come on!
- Stop! - Fucking Yanks.
Come on!
Fucking hell!
You're scraping me fucking paint work!
Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.
- Fuck you, Kane, you shite-rag! - Fuck off!
You little fuck!
Chicken bollocks.
Shit!
Fuck you, Kane, you fucking wanker!
- Come here, you! - Fuck!
- Sir, are you all right? - Fuck off!
We lost them.
Yeah, well, let's not take any chances.
Shit!
- You wanting to junk that? - Do what?
Dude, you have a car? I need transportation.
I got a Cooper that needs paint, but she goes.
Throw in the XJ6, she's yours for 100 quid.
- Deal. - What? A Cooper?
Piss off, Popeye! And you.
70 quid and the Jag. And I'm robbing meself.
That's it. That's it! I've had just about enough of this shite.
I got you to that deal. I got you out in one piece.
As far as I'm concerned, my job's done, finished.
So leave me motor alone, get your golf clubs, and fuck off back to Dixie!
Pay attention, Felix DeSouza.
I atomized a major drug syndicate to be here this morning.
Now I'm stuck in Liver-fucking-fool with you!
And if I need you to sell your car, you will sell your goddamn car!
Do I look like the Salvation Army?
Have I got "Jim'll fix it" written on me hat?
I'm sorry, but help's not a word I'm too familiar with, you know.
Fuck off!
I don't believe it.
So who's the girl?
She's me ex-girlfriend.
- Arthur? - Yeah?
I want you to describe the situation to me.
Seven shades of shit in a one-shit trumpet, sir.
It looks like a drug buy, but none of your ordinary.
Got some blue tabs. They look like sweets.
- How are you? - What do you mean?!
Nearly cut my fucking ear off. And I've hurt my knee.
Now, I want you to get the pills...
...and take them down to the lab. Double-time.
And then you call me.
- Now, what else you got? - Six dead bodies and one live one.
- Chief, it's Leopold Durant. - Durant?
Right. Now concentrate, Arthur. Get that fat fuck down here, pronto!
- But, sir, he's dying. - Then be fucking quick about it!
She dumped me.
Two years ago now.
Changed her name from Dawn to Dakota.
Fucked off for Las Vegas and a deck of cards.
- Who hired her to take me out? - You're asking the wrong question.
She's your guardian angel.
If she wanted you dead, you'd be dead.
She never misses. I mean, fucking look at that.
If she really wanted to hit me...
...I'd be shitting through a tube the rest of me life.
Someone wants you kept alive.
Somebody's trying to cut in on Durant's deal. They're shitting again.
- Yeah, well, shit happens. - No. Shit don't just happen.
Shit takes time. Shit takes effort.
Twenty million dollars worth of effort.
I gotta get a new deal on. Fast.
You know the town, you know the players.
Look...
All I want is a ticket for the game. You think you can swing that?
Twenty million dollars can swing anything.
How much?
Five percent of whatever I get out of any deal you set up.
It's a million dollars.
Hell, you can buy your own goddamned stadium with that.
- The game's tomorrow. - You better get started, then.
And, Felix, a word of advice.
You ever want to get the girl, you gotta broaden your horizons.
What the fuck is that?
What is it? What, Scotch Mist?
You are getting greedy, Leopold.
There's a big deal going down...
...and you are trying to cut me out of the fucking loop!
Hey, sod! I told you, face the fuck front!
Now this is gonna cost you an additional 15 percent.
No?
All right, then, 40!
As you're being so difficult, how about this:
Fifty-fifty. Why settle for anything less?
Sixty-forty.
Leopold, I don't know if you've noticed, my son...
...but you're in urgent need of a fucking doctor.
Fifty-fifty.
Good boy.
All right, then, Arthur, take him down.
Fuck!
You really have excelled yourself this time!
Brilliant! Fucking brilliant!
Omar, it's me own interpretation, isn't it?
- You need to find your center. - Get off me leg!
- Find your center. - Stop messing... Omar!
Omar!
You are messing with my delicate energy field.
Okay. Okay.
- Cocksucker. - Find your center, Omar.
- Hello? - You've got one chance, yes or no...
...to be the number one shite in this cesspool.
Well bugger me sideways, Felix DeSouza. I'm already number one.
A bit of a pillock, Leo Durant.
- Now he's dead. - Dead?
Hang on a minute, it's me other line.
- Hello? - I need to find Felix.
Hello, Dawn.
Time to scratch that itch, eh? Well, he's not in me fucking wigwam.
- Where does he hang out these days? - Hang on a minute.
- Felix? - Listen.
My associate and I have selected you to deal with.
Well, aren't I just the luckiest bugger alive.
- Stay there. - I don't believe it.
Have you tried Re-Fresh? Pink Factor?
- Yeah, all of them. - Hang on.
Let me deal with this.
Let me talk to him.
The deal is $20 million.
The deal is nonnegotiable. The deal expires at midnight.
Mr. McElroy! Twenty million sounds fantastic.
If you're not here by midnight, I'll shit meself with woe.
And I want samples. I want supersonic samples. I want thrust!
I want 100,000 miles an hour of intergalactic spaciness. See you!
We in the house.
Hi, sorry to keep you.
There might be one person who knows where he is.
Fuck!
What the fuck is that?
Congratulations, pal, that's your new Cooper.
MINI Cooper.
Have I got to sort out every fucking problem?
A laboratory, or as you say, a "laboratory."
We need a lab, Felix.
I'm sure that's easy where you come from, fucking lab on every corner.
Piss off.
Well, shit in a bag and punch it.
She's back.
- I need to find Felix! - What do you need from me?
A map and a fucking compass?
Shirley...
You broke his heart! Did you give a thought about that?
- This was a mistake. - Most sensible thing you've said.
Are you still shooting people for a living?
What kind of fucking career is that then?
- Look, can I come in? - And do what?
The dirty stop-out doesn't normally come home until breakfast.
It's really good to be home.
It's great to see you again, love.
I wanted to see the world.
Liverpool isn't the world.
I couldn't take America. It was like fucking Albania in neon.
And that stupid football shirt.
What kind of man jumps into bed shouting, "Come on, you Reds"?
She made me laugh.
Good shag, though.
She'd kill anyone for me. I'll say that for her.
- He's got problems. - She's got problems.
- I shouldn't have come back. - I'm better off.
I need everything on this list.
I'm dying for a smoke. Got any ciggies?
I'm sorry, cigarettes are bad for your health.
So's a punch in the throat. I need fucking nicotine!
There's no need to shout. I'm Pakistani, not deaf.
- Take a puff on this. - Fuck off!
And you.
You! Dress-wearing monkey boy!
Monkey boy!
You're gonna take them drugs of yours and make it work for us.
And where would I do this?
- In my lab. - You got a lab?
Yeah. Of course!
What did you take us for? Rank-fucking-amateurs?
Just say no.
How the fuck did we end up in here?
One little mistake 40 years ago.
All of these items are over-the-counter variety.
Nothing illegal here.
- You're no fucking help, are you? - I beg to differ.
It's not the ingredients which determine the effect...
...but the manner in which they're combined.
These kids are getting very smart.
He's right. The ravers are the key.
Now, aren't you the clever little chunky monkey?
You keep banging on about my weight. You're crossing the line.
It was a joke.
It was a joke. Smile. Smile.
You fat cunt.
Yo, blowjob!
POS-51.
Comes in blue or racecar red.
Destination: The stratosphere.
Only this one gets you there in 60 seconds.
- You try one first. - Thought you'd never ask.
POS-51.
You can't call it that.
Punters are gonna feel like tits asking for "448 IO-fucking-U" or whatever.
No one's gonna know what they're on.
These scumbags spend their entire life smacked out.
Now, numbers?
They couldn't tell you what fucking time it is.
All right, Mr. Smug. What have you done?
I think the shit's about to hit the fan.
Told you it was a bad idea, lads.
- Please! Please! - Please!
- Now, come on! - Thanks!
Brother's gonna work it out.
He's a chemical brother. Mr. McElroy... Welcome.
- How you doing, man? - Spectacular is what I'm doing.
Nice skirt. Special occasion, is it?
You gonna be all right here on your own?
- She's here. - All right.
- Everything all right? Problems? - No, man. Nothing we can't handle.
Not one ingredient is found...
...on any known government's banned-substance watch list.
Hell, you can ship supertankers of this shit.
You could even lay a goddamn pipeline and no one would bat an eye.
POS-51. It's all that.
And it can be yours...
...if the price is right.
Chemistry.
Mr. McElroy...
What is chemistry...
...but the ability to attract adoration in others?
You see, you're like me, Mr. McElroy.
You're a sky-high-etrist. I'm a sky-high-etrist.
I always knew I'd be a drug dealer, even when I was a kid.
I saw Dad hit Mom, Mom hit me brother, me brother hit me sister...
...and me sister fuck me father. I suppose it's inevitable.
You'd have to be on drugs just to live in that madhouse.
Wouldn't you?
Drugs are good, Mr. McElroy.
Drugs are our mates.
Fuck, I'm getting on me own nerves.
What I'm trying to say to you, Mr. McElroy, is...
...I'm very much attracted to what you have to offer.
How you doing, Felix?
Well, me boss is dead. I can't get a ticket for tomorrow's match.
And, oh, yeah, I've got a fucking bullet hole in the ass.
Apart from that, I'm tiptop.
So who's the target?
You've got that look in your eye.
- I've been looking for you. - Yeah?
For old times' sake or the company I keep?
A little bit of both.
So you have got me on your list, then?
You've always been on my list.
Forty years ago, a rock 'n' roll revolution was launched in this town.
Tonight, we're gonna launch a new revolution.
One that will rock 'n' roll your senses.
And you are my test pilots.
You're gonna kiss the sun...
...and taste the motherfucking rainbow.
Are you ready?
Then let's get ready to party!
Do you know how much I've missed you?
- Why didn't you stay with me then? - What, me? In America? Don't be soft.
Besides, I don't know who you are anymore, girl.
It been nearly two years. I haven't heard a word.
Still...
...I always hoped...
...you might change your mind...
...and come home.
We could have a fresh start.
Aren't you gonna say anything?
This, Mr. McElroy, is a fucking miracle.
Drug use will reach epidemic proportions. Governments will fall.
Twenty million and not a penny less. Where do I sign?
Sign? This ain't some written contract, the kind I can sue your ass over.
You fuck me on this deal...
...I gotta take out a contract to get even on the damn contract!
Now, we think we have an agreement.
Either we do or don't. You're in or you're out.
You give me the money. I give you the formula. Are we clear?
Crystal, Mr. McElroy. Crystal.
I'm not Leo Durant. I'm a man of me word.
Get in my way, and I'm gonna have to shoot you.
Get in me way, and I'm gonna have to shoot you again.
I've got to work, babe.
Fucking cow.
Fuck!
Can't a brother just deal some goddamned drugs?
Time to go, Elmo.
Mr. Kane, that time of the month already?
Thought you weren't due till next week, eager beaver.
Ain't that always the way.
Elevator music, a nigga in a kilt and a chick with a nickel-plated nine.
- And now a word from our sponsor. - Now that ain't no Liverpool accent.
- Say, hello, Elmo. - Hello, Elmo.
Absence makes the heart grow fonder, Elmo.
And the Lizard is so full of motherfucking fonderence for you...
...that he got on this plane just to come see you.
- I'm touched. - You will be.
- You got my cash? - You're flush, sweetcakes. You're flush.
He's looking forward to seeing you.
- So, what's the price tag on my ass? - It's enough. Move.
- Last stop. Nowhere from here but down. - Reel me in.
Why would I do a thing like that?
- Pull me up, will you? - Fold or call?
- What? - You play poker. Fold or call?
I'm your last chance. I'm that out you've been looking for.
I'm only gonna make this offer once.
Take it and get out from under the Lizard's ass, or stay a slave...
...and wonder where your life went. - Think you can save me?
Look where you are. Get real.
A million in bonds, untraceable. That's real. That's a fresh start.
Try quitting while you're ahead for a change, Dawn.
- No. - No?
You're negotiating with me? Look at your options.
Ten percent. Have a look at yours.
All right.
Now, that is a lovely dress. Need the extra room, do you?
Tell me something. I'm intrigued. Is it true...
...that you fellas are equipped with incredibly...
...large...?
Fuck.
- Thanks. - My pleasure.
You can move your arm now.
Right, then, you scouse, get.
In the last 12 hours, this city's gone from a peaceful, fun-Ioving utopia...
...to an all-out fucking war zone.
And I, Virgil Kane, want to know why.
Nobody cuts me out of anything in this parochial pisshole.
Now you smell that, Felix. Smell it. Smell it.
That is essence of Durant.
Durant got what he deserved.
So when a deal goes down, you, my old sausage, will fix it.
Time and place, and then you will call me.
Otherwise, accessory to murder...
...possession of a firearm.
You fuck me, I'm gonna have you on your hands and knees...
...with your ass in the air, exposing your rusty badge for the next 20 years.
Ask yourself: Are you gonna help restore national pride...
...and stick one on the Yanks?
Or, like the rest of your life, you gonna piss it away?
Are you gonna help me to help you?
Eight hours till kickoff.
It's a big game.
Let's just see if you come good.
Mr. Kane...
See you.
Never walk alone, eh, mates?
"Help me to help you." Cunt.
How do you think that motherfucker would do against people in this era?
They'd be knocking his shit out of the park.
Kevin's got what's going on. You don't know.
Bullshit. Kevin Brown couldn't carry Sandy Koufax's jockstrap.
You been listening to way too much Vin Scully.
You need to carry your ass out to the ball game.
Sorry, but did I miss something?
- What the fuck is that? - Black pudding. Fried pig's blood.
You two planning on filling me in, or what?
- Elmo's propositioned her. - Nice one, Shirley.
- I'm listening. - Lizard offered Dakota 250 K...
...to deliver my live ass to him. I made her a significantly better offer.
And I'm thinking she might entertain...
...certain sentimental reasons for not doing her job.
The question is whether it's gonna pay me to be sentimental.
Look, we have a choice.
We can use our get-out-of-jail-free cards.
Or we can choose: Stop. Do not pass Go...
...do not collect 20 million dollars.
Do we have a deal?
Do that again, I will fucking shoot you.
Shut your gob! Go and get yourself cleaned up.
- And no shagging up there! - Yeah, no shagging up there.
We do this job and we get out.
That's what we all want, isn't it?
Just to get out.
- So, what's the plan? - You tell me.
- What's the plan? - You tell me.
Listen, it's gotta come from your belly, right deep down.
It's your birth trauma. Now cleanse your chakras and let it all out.
- Let it go! - I'm trying, you fucking fairy!
All right?!
- Alrighty, good morning! - Let's finish this deal.
My sentiments exactly. Any particular venue?
No airports. No hotel rooms.
No dockyards. No barges. No pharmacies. No animal-testing labs.
No rooftops.
Riddles, riddles. I love riddles.
No abandoned warehouses or rave clubs.
I want total privacy in a very public place.
And security. Cops. Lots of them. And witnesses.
Thousands of witnesses. You getting my drift?
Well, I've got a certain...
...business indulgence, shall we say, that I could utilize.
- So, what time's kickoff? - 3:00 sharp.
I'll be there.
Football and drugs, a perfect Saturday afternoon.
Liverpool! Liverpool!
Come on. Chakras.
- No, no, no, chubster. You stay here. - What for?
I don't know. Keep your eyes on the exits.
Try, for fuck's sake, to blend in, you cunt.
- This clown better deliver. - Don't worry.
Iki put something like this together a couple years ago.
- What happened? - They all died.
- We get in. We get out. - What about the game?
- We're staying to watch it, right? - Dude, I'm in and I'm out.
Virgin Atlantic announces the arrival of flight VS- 12 from Los Angeles.
Good afternoon, gentlemen. Welcome to Anfield, the home of football.
McElroy, DeSouza.
Yes, sir. Thank you.
Take the lift to the third floor. It's the first door on your right.
- Sir? - Don't you want to search me?
Guests for the executive suites are never searched, sir.
Right. I knew that.
Welcome! Come in. Come in.
- Excellent. - I'm nothing if not hospitable.
Make yourself at home.
I'm so excited I could shit.
Right, Mr. McElroy, a drink while I tell you about me plans.
I've got plans, Mr. McElroy, big fucking plans.
Hey, hey, hey. No talk.
You want a beverage? I'll fix you a beverage while you get the 20 mill.
I give you the formula. You smile. We toast.
We pretend we're friends. And we go our separate ways.
Foreplay, Mr. McElroy, is the only way to a good relationship.
Iki, my love, we're way past holding hands.
Twenty million in bonds, untraceable.
- Is that supposed to be 20 mill? - I'm not hefting gold bars around.
It's not fucking Goldfinger, is it?
Easy, flower. Where's me formula?
"Wish you were here"?
I'm fucking there, Mr. McElroy. I'm fucking there.
An inspired choice, I must say. My chemical brother.
Cheers.
I never was one to be too sentimental.
Elmo.
It ain't often a blowed-up motherfucker...
...gets to chat to the motherfucker that blowed him up.
You got that right.
Usually the motherfucker has the courtesy to stay blowed up.
I'll try to be more accommodating next time, Elmo.
Cocktails. What are we celebrating?
We're toasting our deal, Mr. Lizard.
- Our deal? - Not your deal.
Hands across the ocean, you might say.
- Fucking twat. - Elmo, mix master.
Cheers.
I love your touches.
- To a global partnership. - To a global partnership!
Fucking limey bastard. Global partnership, my ass.
My money is on good, old-fashioned American monopoly, you son of a bitch.
Besides, England ain't nothing.
Nothing but the 51 st state.
Don't you just fucking hate it when a motherfucker stabs you in the back?
The Lizard traveled 12,000 miles to settle accounts with you.
So? What? You gonna hug me and tell me you missed me...
...or you gonna shoot me? - I'm tired of chasing your ass.
Give me my fucking goods, and you give them to me fucking now!
You better chill with that shit, motherfucker. I own you!
- You own me? - I fucking own you!
You own shit!
Go ahead. Kill me. Put me out of my misery for the first time.
But you will no longer take what is mine.
- Five! - Five fucking percent is mine.
Shut the fuck up! I don't even know who the fuck you are!
You got some big fucking onions, Elmo.
This is the most expensive candy on the market.
The drug's a fake, you know. It's bogus.
It's what we chemists call a placebo. It's whatever you want it to be.
You can run all the tests you want.
It will look like the best shit in the universe. But the ingredients...
...they cancel each other out.
Confusing the Lizard ain't gonna help your cause.
Got to give big ups to marketing. The ability to make people believe.
The power of suggestion.
POS-51.
I don't give a shit. Is your science lecture over?
I will be in 24 seconds.
It takes 10 seconds for an imbibed liquid to reach the stomach.
It takes the body 81 seconds to heat that liquid to the point of volatility.
- You have 12 seconds left. - Twelve seconds?
What are you talking about? And what is the big fucking umbrella?
Freeze! You, lumpy, in the caftan, drop the gun.
Nice and controlled. How's my timing, Felix?
It's fucking perfect.
That cleared me sinuses.
Drugs. Always kill you in the end.
Whoa! Whoa. Whoa. Shit!
All right, lads, get the cuffs on this cockney twat.
As agreed.
What about the drug?
- You conned us. - I conned them. We got paid.
Is this or is this not worth 20 million dollars?
This castle's worth, I'd say, more like seven, seven and a half.
Do you wanna see the game?
Mr. McElroy, you are a genuine McElroy like myself, you say?
This is the tartan of my slave master.
I now claim his castle and his lands for my own.
I see. But will you not now be making your putt?
Aye.
Congratulations, Mr. McElroy. An outstanding round of golf.
You ain't seen nothing yet.
Well, I can tell you it's the first time that's been seen on the 18th green.
Elmo's in the house!