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(MOMENTOUS MUSIC)
TV COMMENTATOR: Tonight in London,
we have the night of nights.
Damn, there is so much talent in this city.
The Triple-A rated Bodyguard of the Year Awards.
Now, these awards are given out
to members of the executive protection industry,
those that carry the Triple-A rating.
It is the badge of honour.
Who you most excited to see tonight, Mike?
MIKE: Oh, my God.
I mean, there is only one
white-hot favourite here, Steve.
And this bodyguard has had a tremendous year.
His track record is untouchable.
He has had the best client list, the best evasive car manoeuvres,
the best gun-handling skills.
Christ, he even has the best hair.
And he actually insists his clients wear seatbelts.
That's how safe this guy is.
He's the bodyguard that needs no introduction.
Michael Bryce is the clear favourite this year.
AWARDS HOST: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to
the 63rd annual Executive Protection Awards.
So without further ado, the final award
for the Triple-A Bodyguard of the Year.
And the winner is...
..my personal hero.
Michael Bryce!
-(CHEERING AND APPLAUSE) -MAN: Yes!
What?!
-MAN: Well done, Mike. -MICHAEL: Wow!
Oh!
-What?! -Good job!
Wh...what?
Oh, wow.
Oh! So heavy!
(SIGHS) Whoo!
Wow. Uh, I just...
(SOLITARY MAN CLAPS)
I just...
I just want to, um...
I just, um...
(MAN LAUGHS)
MICHAEL: Darius?
(DARIUS LAUGHS)
-(SHRIEKS) -(AWARD CLATTERS)
(FRANTIC MUSIC)
(LAUGHS)
(LAUGHTER CONTINUES)
(LAUGHTER AND MUSIC FADE)
(MYSTERIOUS MUSIC)
(WHISPERS) Kurosawa?
Michael-san.
(SPEAKS JAPANESE)
(GUNSHOT)
Tick-tock, motherfucker.
(SCREAMS)
And how often do you have this dream?
Just once...
-Oh, that's not too... -..a night.
-Right. -Mostly when I'm asleep.
It's what my life was supposed to be.
I was the perfect executive protection agent
until I lost it all...
..when Darius Kincaid killed my most important client.
(GUNSHOT)
Darius Kincaid. Is he a relative of yours?
MICHAEL: God, no!
He's a hit man wanted for, like,
a zillion murders around the world.
Which is why, when I protected him
on a dangerous trip across Europe
so he could give evidence at a war crimes trial -
even took a bullet for him, I might add -
the Bodyguarding Committee, they wouldn't...
..they wouldn't recognise it.
Apparently they don't take kindly to protecting sociopaths.
So in two weeks, I have to go in front of a tribunal
and try to get my Triple-A rated licence back.
To deal with the future,
we sometimes have to deal with the past.
Now, is there anything you want to talk about
from your childhood, perhaps?
And my childhood would be relevant how?
Well, quite often validation issues
stem from a disapproving father.
I don't have validation issues.
I have a licensing issue.
I am a bodyguard without a licence.
That's like being a... a belly dancer without a torso.
What are you thinking about right now, Michael?
I'm thinking about the fact that you're seated
six feet away from an exposed window with
multiple sniper nest positions on the building opposite,
most likely on the eighth floor.
The additional height gives the marksman an advantage.
I'm thinking about
the closest available weapon to me right now -
the letter opener/ stabbing instrument
on the desk to my right.
What are you thinking about?
I'm thinking you need to forget bodyguarding for a while
and find happiness within.
Within what?
Within yourself!
Happiness in who you are.
I'm listening.
Well, first things first -
I think all the guns and violence are...
..weighing on your soul.
So you need to get away and clear your mind
and then you can find your future self.
Wait, wait, like...
..like a cool...
..futuristic bodyguard with superpowers?
No. Will you stop...
Stop thinking about bodyguarding. (CHUCKLES)
Do you have a dream vacation at all?
I've heard Italy is lovely at this time of year.
So, how about Tuscany?
No, not Tuscany. No Tuscany. Anything but Tuscany.
OK. Uh, Capri then?
Capri?
Like the pants?
Also, a lot clients find it helpful
writing journal letters to their future self.
-Or recording voice memos. -(GASPS)
What if I call him?
I could leave him voice messages.
I have my phone with me all the time. Joanne...
This is great.
I feel like we're making really great progress here.
So do I. Yeah.
And don't feel like you need to check in with me again.
I mean, this is very much your journey now.
(WHISPERS) My journey.
You've graduated therapy.
Graduated?
Repeat after me.
No bodyguarding.
N...no...
-..buh.... -Bo... Bo...
..rodyguarding.
-Good! -Mmm.
-And no guns. -No guns.
Wait. No, no. Hold on. Can I, uh...
Can I keep my penknife, though?
-Yeah, you can... -Very functional tool.
I use it for a variety of different things.
JOANNE: Just you and your future self
finding happiness within.
Those are the only two people
that you need to be protecting right now.
-OK? -OK.
I can't believe I graduated therapy!
-I know! Congratulations. -It's really...
Jesus Christ!
Fuck!
TV ANCHOR: After two years of crippling EU sanctions,
Greece's economy has spiralled into freefall,
causing mass demonstrations, civil unrest...
REPORTER: And today outside the EU headquarters,
tensions run high.
With the expected announcement
of yet further crippling sanctions,
Greece's future hangs in the balance.
ANCHOR: We now cross live as the head of the EU,
Mr Walter Fiscer, will announce his decision.
In four days' time, at the end of the fiscal year,
the European Union will impose
further economic and financial sanctions
on the nation of Greece.
-(REPORTERS CLAMOUR) -There will be no questions.
We are moving Mr Fiscer to the extraction point.
Prepare the helicopter.
-(TWO GUNSHOTS) -(PANTS)
REPORTER: Today's announcement of further sanctions
has led to mass rioting on the streets of Athens
with thousands of protesters causing widespread damage.
Walter Fiscer, the head of the EU,
has been reported missing amid...
MAN: Did you know that Greece
is the motherland of civilisation?
Walter Fiscer's administration has overseen...
She gave the world art and...
..science, culture...
..and tragedy.
(WHISPERS) Aristotle...
..if this is about the decision...
-You must reverse it. -There is no way.
It was a democratic vote.
Greece gave you democracy.
I was an orphan, abandoned.
Greece took me in, gave me everything.
There is nothing I can do.
I swear on my family.
Please!
Contact Carlo and initiate the plan.
What plan?
You have suffocated my country, Mr Fiscer.
But mark my words...
..in four days' time,
at the exact moment your sanctions will commence,
all of Europe's infrastructure will burn.
Financial markets will collapse.
And millions of lives will be lost.
(SCREAMS)
While Greece will return to
her rightful place as the centre of civilisation!
(SCREAMS)
(DEBUSSY'S 'CLAIR DE LUNE')
Hello. You've reached Michael Bryce.
Please leave a message and have a Triple-A day.
MICHAEL: Hey there, future Michael.
It's today Michael.
I'm not great at first impressions.
I just wanna say that
I think you'd be proud to know that I graduated therapy.
I'm officially on sabbatical and, to be honest,
I don't know why I didn't do this sooner.
It's only been 12 hours,
but already, the world feels more abundant,
as if somehow it's been waiting for me to make this change.
I think about my licence
and I ask myself, "What was I so worked up about?"
In fact, for the first time since Kincaid killed Kurosawa,
I'm starting to imagine a life without bodyguarding
or guns or blood.
I know this sounds crazy, but...
this really feels like a new be...
Let's go, 'Breese'! (FIRES GUN)
-Vamonos, vamonos, vamonos! -Oh! No!
-(GUNFIRE) -Whoa! Hey!
What's going on?! What the...
-What's happening? -Come on!
I know you! Don't I know you?
I'm Sonia Kincaid.
(SHOUTS IN SPANISH)
The Mafia took my husband. We have to go get him.
No, no, no. I'm not getting involved in this.
I'm under strict psychological orders that...
How'd you find me?
-(SONIA SCREAMS) -(JOANNE SHRIEKS)
-(SHOUTS) Where the fuck is he? -(SCREAMS)
-(SHOUTS INDISTINCTLY) -Hold on a second.
Finally Darius isn't haunting my dreams, alright?
I'm not doing this.
(YELPS)
If you don't help me,
I am gonna put my strap-on on
and I'm gonna fuck your dreams
until they wish they were your nightmares.
Motherfuckers!
First of all, your mouth needs an exorcism.
Second of all, why does he need my help?
He said, "Get Michael Breese."
-He said that? -Yes!
-I thought he hated me. -Come on, let's go!
You are vile!
(SHOUTS IN SPANISH)
What did he say exactly? What was Kincaid's tone?
(MEN SPEAK FOREIGN LANGUAGE)
(FIRES GUN) Who gives a fuck?
Come on, let's go! Get on it!
-(GUNFIRE) -(ENGINE PUTTS)
Move, move!
Take the gun.
No, I'm not doing guns right now.
(MEN SHOUT IN FOREIGN LANGUAGE)
Are you kidding me? (MOCKINGLY) "I'm not doing guns right now."
MICHAEL: I don't sound like that.
You useless fuck!
MICHAEL: Jesus! I got it.
Hurry up!
('LINING THE TRACK' BY DAN SMITH)
Pedal to the metal and stay away from my boobs!
MICHAEL: Jesus Christ!
(GUNSHOTS)
(GRUNTS)
Whoa! Wait! No, no, there's gotta be a safer way down.
There's gotta be a safer way, maybe like a switch... OK.
-Really? Oh! -(GUNFIRE)
(GUNSHOTS)
(MICHAEL GASPS)
So, where is he?
They took him from me, Breese.
We were gonna go on our honeymoon
finally, after all these years!
We've NEVER had a honeymoon!
We were gonna take a road trip through Italy.
I always dreamt of it, you know?
Ay, everything was going to be so romantic, so perfect,
and then this fucking hijo de puta cucaracha motherfucker
took off on the most exciting moment of our first night
of our honeymoon.
The next thing I know, the phone rings
and he's been captured by the Mafia.
DARIUS: Baby, I need help!
But he's a workaholic, Breese.
I KNOW he took a motherfucking job!
Oh, he is a monster.
I just want him to provide me
with the stability that we need to start a family.
Did you say 'family'?
You dumb fuck! We're trying to have a baby.
(SIREN WAILS)
(WHISPERS) May God have mercy on our souls.
We have fucked so hard
and so tenderly.
And in so many different places and positions and...
MICHAEL: Mmm. Mm-mm.
And I just haven't gotten pregnant.
(SHIP'S HORN BLARES)
You know what I think the problem is?
-Biology. -Yeah.
Mi diamante is too tight.
Your what?
-My pussy, motherfucker. -Oh.
My pussy's just too tight.
And since Darius uses all his testosterone in his macho shit,
the whiny sperm abort the mission
halfway up my pussy pipe.
-Goddamn it. -Goddamn it!
(WOMEN GASP AND MUTTER)
Hi.
SONIA: I'm going to be such a good mother.
I can't imagine...anyone gooder.
Do you have pepper spray? I'm on sabbatical.
(E-CIGARETTE RASPS)
Good evening, gentlemen.
Who's that?
Your mysterious boss?
The client we never get to meet?
Not your concern.
Your concern is the demonstration.
So please...
..demonstrate.
Data junctions are always encased in tungsten carbide.
The only thing harder...
..is diamond.
(TOOL WHIRRS)
There are thousands of data junctions across Europe,
each of them located by classified coordinates.
The bigger the junction you wish to hack,
the bigger the drill you will need.
Then it's just a matter of uploading
my custom-built Phantom H7 virus,
selecting the radius of the attack,
weaponising everything connected to the grid,
crippling every computer, GPS and wi-fi system in the region.
COMPUTER: Target locked.
Bye-bye.
(DRAMATIC MUSIC)
(PEOPLE SCREAM)
Satisfied?
ARISTOTLE: It's perfect.
Very.
Kill them.
Copy that. Target locked.
(INHALES)
(GRUNTS)
REPORTER 1: The city of Zagreb has woken
to absolute chaos this morning
after a high-velocity surge wiped out a five-mile radius
of its power grid.
The climbing death toll has now reached 75.
REPORTER 2: Early reports suggest
that a freak lightning strike
on a data junction was to blame.
What?
No, I need round-the-clock surveillance
on my informant right fucking now.
WOMAN: Mr O'Neill.
Superintendent Crowley.
With half of Greece in a state of anarchy,
I hope you have a very good reason
for pulling me out of a UN security summit.
Goddamn right I do. Seen the news?
The damage to the data tower's in line with a lightning strike
and I'm inclined to agree.
Does this look like the victim of a lightning strike to you?
It also looks like Gunther Von Weber.
He's wanted in 16 countries for hacking, infiltrating
and undermining the world's most secure cyber systems.
Hey, Ivan Drago.
Where'd you find this body?
-(SPEAKS CROATIAN) -What'd you say? What'd he say?
(SCOTTISH ACCENT) Said he found it next to the data tower.
What the fuck did you just say?
He found him next to the data tower.
Oh, next to the data tower.
(SIGHS) Where are you going with this?
My Italian informant called and specified there was
a large-scale cyber attack in four days.
Mr O'Neill, you have been warned repeatedly
that it's against protocol
to deal with unsanctioned criminal informants.
Listen, I have been in Europe for a month, OK,
and the only thing you people do is watch fucking soccer.
Not one bar carries Sam Adams.
So the least you could do is let me do what we do in Boston, OK?
We work with the bad guys to get the worse guys.
This was a trial run,
and Carlo has been asked to buy the next coordinates
tomorrow night in Portofino.
Alright, what do you want?
I want an office, I want a SWAT team,
I want an unlimited budget.
And if I solve this case,
I want you to send me back to Boston.
I'll give you 24 hours and a surveillance van.
I need a translator.
You can have mine.
I was hoping one that spoke English.
Keep an eye on him.
Hmm. What do they call you?
Ailso.
'Asshole'?
Ailso.
It's a traditional Scottish name.
Alright, William Wallace. Warm up the chopper.
We're going to Italy.
(DRAMATIC MUSIC)
(BANG!)
Darius Kincaid.
A little birdie told me that you were in town.
Remember me?
Your old pal, Carlo.
I remember killing
a bunch of motherfuckers who worked for you.
I remember that too.
Now I'd like to introduce you to my friend,
the butcher of Terracina.
(DRAMATIC MUSIC BUILDS)
This reminds me of the spa back at the hotel.
Really?
Not at all.
These are the tiny cockheads that are holding my cucaracha.
Wait - who were the guys back in Capri?
They were so rude, Breese.
Can you believe one of them grabbed my ass?
(MAN GROANS)
(PEOPLE YELL)
-Whoa, whoa... -(GUNSHOT)
Oh, my God.
OK, let's blast this motherf...
Whoa! Whoa, whoa. OK, look. No.
You go in there guns blazing,
they're gonna get trigger-happy inside,
then it's bye-bye, Darius.
He asked for me. He needs me.
So we're gonna do this my way.
That means no killing, no guns, and no blood.
Boring is always best. Understood?
Of course not. What...
Jesus Christ!
Fuck. (GRUNTS)
Yoo-hoo!
Hello, boys!
I got a little lost.
Hello. You've reached Michael Bryce.
Please leave a message and have a Triple-A day.
Hey, future Mike! (GRUNTS)
It's me!
Listen, I know the Bodyguard Review Board
would not look favourably on this, but, uh...
..but I had to take a sabbatical from my sabbatical.
Something's come up beyond my control.
Anyway,
I'm not bodyguarding.
I'm just helping this guy out.
Because... One sec.
(GRUNTS)
He's still alive.
Because the alternative
is his even scarier wife
sodomising my dreams.
That's really gonna get in the way of my transformation.
-(MAN YELPS) -(MICHAEL GRUNTS)
Do I love what I'm doing right now?
Absolutely not.
Still alive.
But I think you'd be pretty proud of me
for staying true to my journey.
Talk to ya soon.
What have you done?
These fuckers got a little bit too fresh.
I specifically said no killing, no blood
and no guns.
I'm NOT on sabbatical.
Where is your shirt?
-(GUNFIRE) -(YELLS)
(SCREAMS)
-CARLO: Deal with it! -(MEN YELL)
(SONIA SHOUTS)
(SCREAMS)
(ROARS)
('HELLO' BY LIONEL RICHIE)
(MUFFLED) Baby!
(LAUGHS)
♪ I've been alone with you inside my mind
♪ And in my dreams I've kissed your lips
♪ A thousand times... ♪
-DARIUS: Uh...hang on. -(SONG STOPS)
What the fuck is he doing here?
I believe it's pronounced 'thank you'.
-For what? -For saving your life.
Again and again and again.
I never asked you to save shit!
Baby, what in the absolute fuck is Michael Bryce doing here?
You said,
"Baby, get me Michael Breese!"
-DARIUS: What? -(CHUCKLES)
No! No, no, no, no, no. I said...
Baby, I need help.
Get anyone...
"..BUT Michael Bryce."
SONIA: What? Didn't he save your cucaracha's ass?
DARIUS: Doesn't mean I gotta be best friends with him.
He is the most annoying motherfucker on planet Earth.
Excuse me!
I have 20/20 hearing.
I can hear you. The dead guys can hear you.
And what do you mean, I'm the most
annoying motherfucker on planet Earth, huh?
How many times have you nearly got me killed?
Not enough!
Come on, baby, let's get out of here
before he starts the in-flight safety demonstration.
(MAN GRUNTS)
(SCREAMS)
Are you using pepper spray?
I'm on sabbatical.
And, uh, I'm trying to find my spiritual awake...
(GAGS)
..awake...
(LAUGHS)
Motherfucker, you wouldn't know chi
if you fucked... (FADES)
(MICHAEL SHOUTS) Hey!
I didn't have to be here, you know.
I...I had fresh cucumbers on my eyes!
I had a linen robe with an insanely high thread count.
It was like sleeping in a cloud!
-Namaste, motherfucker. -(LAUGHS)
(SCREAMS)
Darius?
(SCREAMS)
MICHAEL: Well, this is just precious.
DARIUS: Will you stop whining?
(BOTH TALK AT ONCE)
O'NEILL: The hit man, the bodyguard and the con woman.
You dumb fucks just killed Carlo,
the informant that was gonna punch my ticket home.
Who the fuck are you?
Interpol Agent Bobby O'Neill. That's who the fuck I am.
And I know who all three of you shitheads are.
Michael Bryce.
Triple-A rated bodyguard.
Pillar of the community.
Present, thank you.
Only I know you lost your licence to protect
when Shotgun Willie there killed Kurosawa.
No, no, that's under review, OK? Kincaid took that shot...
Moreover...
..you're still taking clients.
Name...one.
The Sultan of Mandara.
Brussels.
Your Majesty, I'm Michael Bryce, your executive protection agent.
(GUNSHOTS)
Contact, contact!
That's a felony, pal.
Fucking Brussels! Fuck!
O'NEILL: As for you two,
you're looking at about a billion years in prison.
But today's your lucky day,
because instead of going to the electric chair,
I'm gonna give you a shot at redemption.
Now, I got intel on a mystery big shot
that's about to launch a full-scale cyber attack.
Carlo, my now-dead informant, was gonna buy a hard drive
containing the coordinates of the attack.
Why are you looking at me? I didn't touch Carlo.
But now, thanks to your bloodbath, that can't happen,
so you assholes are going to Portofino
and you're gonna make the buy instead.
Uh, Bob...quick sidebar?
Listen, uh, first off,
I'm happy to postpone my sabbatical
if it's gonna keep me outta jail, but I think, you know,
you should really reconsider working with these guys.
I don't wanna go to Portofino.
'Cause they're, you know... fucking crazy.
(GRUNTS)
Fuck! Wow!
OK, cum-for-brains.
You are gonna be the goofy bodyguard
for Carlo's British mistress
while grumpy pants here
makes sure that hard drive gets out.
-(PHONE RINGS) -Are we clear?
DARIUS: We could take the money and run, baby.
SONIA: I'm tired of running, Darius.
Ah, Superintendent Crowley. How...how nice.
Mr O'Neill. Time's up.
No, no, no. I'm working a strong lead here.
There's been a robbery at a shipping port
and our intelligence suggests it may be related to this case.
You've been reassigned.
If you could just give me 24 more hours...
-I said, "Time's up." -Yeah.
Fuck!
I don't wanna go to Portofino as his bitch!
This was supposed to be my honeymoon!
(GUNSHOT)
What if somebody's upstairs?
-Shut up. -(GUN CLICKS)
OK.
-Slight change of plans. -Yeah.
I've been assigned another lead,
but that does not change what's going on right here, OK?
Now, Sean Connery here is gonna give you
a bunch of money to make the buy.
And if you don't understand what she says,
well, welcome to the fucking club.
What?
You're gonna fist Kincaid's glory hole?
Hey! Nobody touches Kincaid's glory hole.
That's my job.
I don't think anyone should have that job.
O'NEILL: See that? It's your buy money.
One dime goes missing, you try to go AWOL, and I'm gonna
slap global red fucking notices on all your asses.
Oh, no!
Red notices? What are you doing? Not on me!
What is this, a Nokia? I don't know how to work this thing!
-Look at me. Look at me. -I'm looking at you.
You stay in close contact with me, you understand?
-I'll call you all the time. -Shut up.
When I call, you answer.
And you, resources are kind of low.
I want you to enjoy your transportation.
Do not fuck this up.
Oh, we are DEFINITELY going to fuck this up.
I mean, look at the two people you're saddling me with.
O'NEILL: Get your asses to Portofino!
Zero chance we're making it out of this room.
He may as well hire a brain-damaged kitten.
O'NEILL: The fucking honeymoon is over!
(DOOR SLAMS SHUT)
(SCREAMS)
(CAR ENGINE GROWLS)
SONIA: I understand some people
get cold feet on their wedding day,
but I would have never thought
that you'd get cold dick on our honeymoon night.
Baby, baby, I said I was sorry.
Sorry's not good enough!
I want an explanation. Where the fuck were you?
Where were you, Darius? Just tell her.
I took a job, OK?
-Fuck you! -Hey, hey!
Fuck you, fuck you!
Now's a good time to talk about the seatbelt rule.
Perhaps now's a good time
to talk about the shut-the-fuck-up rule.
I'm just saying it because she's driving like a crash test dummy.
Do not criticise my wife's driving, motherfucker!
Hush, hush, hush!
Do you know what I just realised?
I'm not gonna let you crazy motherfuckers ruin my shit.
SONIA: I'll treat this as a lovely road trip through Italy
and I'll just pretend that you are still my devoted husband.
I am!
And you, Breese, you will be...
You will be the human luggage.
-Yes. We are now on honeymoon. -(LAUGHS)
First of all, it's a mission.
Second of all - and just so we're clear -
I promised my therapist no bodyguarding,
so I'm not protecting either of...
This is not mission! This is honeymoon!
What the fuck?! Hey, eyes on road!
Eyes on road!
Babies need to be created in a stimulating environment.
I must be aroused by sightseeing,
shopping, fine dining.
But we are officially on honeymoon.
-For real? -Did she say 'fine dining'?
Let's not do that. Guys, let's just focus on the road here. Oh.
-(DARIUS AND SONIA MOAN) -Alright. (UNDOES SEATBELT)
I got it.
No, it's fine. You guys just... You guys have at it.
Maybe feather the brake a bit.
-(ENGINE ROARS) -Maybe feather the brake a bit!
(SPRIGHTLY ITALIAN SONG PLAYS)
(SINGS ALONG WORDLESSLY)
Yo, let me borrow your phone.
-Why'd you lie to her? -Fuck are you talking about?
You lied to her back there. You weren't on a job.
And how would you know that?
Because there's, like, 22 body indications when somebody lies
and you exhibited...40.
If you say one word to Sonia about this,
I'll invent new ways to kill your ass.
Wow.
You must have done something really serious, Darius.
Honesty's the best policy.
I don't take relationship advice from single motherfuckers.
I don't have a calling plan. Make it quick.
(SINGS WORDLESSLY)
(MUFFLED) Yeah, I was just wondering if I could...
(SOUND FADES)
DARIUS: I took a job, OK?
(STARTS ENGINE)
Portofino has water views, which means it's perfect for...
-Oh, shit. -Where you going?
DARIUS: Sonia! What the fuck?
You better hope that job's worth it, motherfucker!
What job?!
(GRUNTS)
Who the fuck is this?
WOMAN: We have an availability for 'Carmen' at 2pm.
Who the fuck is Carmen?!
Uh, tickets to the opera 'Carmen'.
And you wanted two, no?
I love 'Carmen'!
-(LAUGHS) -I love 'Carmen'!
('HABANERA' FROM BIZET'S 'CARMEN')
(WOMAN SINGS) ♪ Si tu ne m'aimes pas... ♪
(DARIUS AND SONIA GROAN AND YELL)
(BOTH CRY OUT)
-(DARIUS COUGHS) -(DULL THUMPING)
What's that thumping? I can't stop.
My head is beating. What is that? Huh? What?
It's this idiot.
(DARIUS PANTS)
(GASPS)
Are you people...fucking insane?
Hey, watch your mouth!
I picked you up from the street, saved you from sunstroke,
and now you're calling me insane?
Sunstroke?
You could go to jail for leaving a dog in a hot car.
And don't even get me started on
the psychological ramifications of what I heard you two doing.
-DARIUS: Oh, goddamn! -Is that Valentino?
No, it's mine.
Did...did you spend the buy money?
Come on, they totally expect us to spend SOME of it.
No, no, obviously...
..I'll cover it with my life savings.
I think that's a great idea.
-Just gonna make a call. -Wish I had some life savings.
Hello. You've reached Michael Bryce.
Please leave a message and have a Triple-A day.
(BEEP!)
That little mission we're on? Well, we're...
We're way off course.
Can't even see the course anymore.
Or hear it, for that matter.
Uh, my ears are still ringing from...
..from ferocious sexual intercourse
leading to a rolling quadruple climax.
Anyway, I'm venting.
I don't wanna vent to you, so I'll catch up with you later.
Oh, shit!
Who were you talking to?
It's a secret.
-I know your secret. -You do?
You are so lonely that you were talking to yourself.
Hah!
Listen, Breese, you really hurt my feelings.
Do you really think I am crazy?
No!
I think you're... unusually aggressive, violent,
but in an unpredictable way.
I would make a great mother.
Don't you think I'd make a great mother?
Oh, my God, a child would be so lucky to have you as its host.
(SIGHS)
(WHISPERS) Thank you, Breese.
Thank you.
It must be your...
..powerful asexuality
that makes you such a good listener.
MAN: Please step away, miss. This is a military crime scene.
O'NEILL: Jesus Christ. Swing the fucking bat.
Ahh!
Let me guess. Crowley gave us a shit lead.
No-one will tell me what was inside.
It was a classified military shipment.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!
What are the fucking odds?
Seems lightning strikes twice.
We need to get that packing slip.
How do you propose we do that, Mr Bobby?
(O'NEILL SIGHS)
We need a distraction.
What?
(MEN SHOUT)
Jesus, what the fuck are you doing?
Sonofabitch.
Last time I saw something like this,
Bruce Willis was drilling a hole in an asteroid.
(PHONE RINGS)
Bobby, I'm glad you called.
Listen, it's a diamond-tipped drill.
And I know there's a link, but this drill was fucking massive.
You were right.
We picked up some chatter in our Rome office.
The Mob are making a buy in Portofino.
They're purchasing classified coordinates
of a large-scale data grid.
We've got a surveillance team there...
-We have a team in Portofino? -Yeah, moving into position now.
(WHISPERS) Get the chopper. Get the chopper.
Oh, Bobby?
If this actually turns out to be what you say it is,
I will personally make sure
you get your transfer back to Boston.
Oh, ma'am, I can't thank you enough. Thank you so much.
Thank you, ma'am.
We're going to Portofino!
(DRAMATIC MUSIC)
MICHAEL: Let's get into character.
I'm the bodyguard.
Now let's hear the British accent of Carlo's mistress.
(TERRIBLE ACCENT) My British accent is perfect,
you fucking cunt.
Let's skip the British accent
and go straight to being brutally executed.
How's the sight line, D?
DARIUS: Mm-mm. Just protecting my asset.
We're here to see Vladimir.
I'm the bodyguard.
Security check.
-(SIREN WAILS) -Two minutes out.
Crowley's got a team in place. We gotta call off the buy.
If she finds out I've got those shitheads working for me...
(PHONE BUZZES)
(SCANNER WHINES)
(RINGING TONE)
He's not answering the phone.
What did I tell him? Burner phone. Pick it up!
-Here you go, sir. -Thank you very much.
Great work.
-(ELECTRONIC MUSIC THUMPS) -Yeah!
Yeah. Yeah!
-Oh, shit! -What's wrong?
MICHAEL: Just a former client. It's fine - he didn't see me.
You must be Vladimir.
Carlo sends his regards.
He thought I would attract less attention.
Well, he thought wrong!
But nobody's complaining.
(MUTTERS) Sonofabitch.
You have the security feed yet?
Getting it now.
Don't move till the buy is made and they're out of the club.
-There's too many civilians. -Roger that.
These are the classified coordinates
to the entire European data grid.
OK?
No, no, no, no, no.
-(CLICKS TONGUE) -(DEVICE BEEPS)
These are proximity paired.
Until the buyer's fingerprint disarms the bracelet,
I suggest you do not let the briefcase
out of 5-metre radius for more than 15 seconds.
If you do, bracelet explodes.
-(BRACELET BEEPS) -Keep it close!
It will be a shame for that beautiful face
to be disintegrated by TNT.
(LAUGHS)
(WHISPERS) The fuck?
I should just pop this motherfucker right now.
-Address? -Oh, the delivery address!
In Florence.
You will deliver to the buyer tomorrow
at the Ludovico Gallery auction.
SONIA: Ah, I love Florence!
I adore galleries and museums and culture.
Michael Bryce!
You have me confused with someone else.
No, no, I'd never forget the face of
the man who saved my life in my darkest hour.
Come on, bro! Let's do some blow together.
Michael Bryce?
Didn't he lose his licence
when Kurosawa was killed?
No, no, he's got me mistaken for someone else.
MAN: I told you, it's Michael Bryce!
For the record, that's pending review.
(GROWLS) Fuck off!
Hey, guys, it's Michael Bryce!
Why would Carlo hire an unlicensed bodyguard
to protect the love of his life?
Right! You're fired.
(MUTTERS) You're fucking fired!
Oh, that's true, baby.
Carlo always has preferred younger women.
Excuse me?
I've seen him with a woman in her 30s,
but never this old.
-(MEN LAUGH) -Never!
No, no, no, no. No, no. Don't...don't laugh.
(MEN LAUGH)
-Here it comes. -MAN: Old lady, right?
(LAUGHS)
What the fuck did you just say,
you finger-licking shit monkey
donkey-blowing motherfucker?!
(SHOUTS IN SPANISH)
That sounded really Mexican.
(CHUCKLES) Shit.
We have a problem.
This is a fucking set-up.
You don't fucking say, vape juice!
Get that case off her.
Get me Carlo on the phone!
And here we go.
(MARIACHI MUSIC)
(SONIA SCREAMS IN SPANISH)
-Shit! -(BRACELET BEEPS)
Clear the room.
Let's go. Move! Move!
SONIA: Breese! The gun!
-(GUNSHOTS) -(SCREAMING)
(CURSES IN SPANISH)
(GRUNTS)
(SCREAMING, SHRIEKING)
(MEN GROAN)
(GROANS) Feel like giving me a hand, Kincaid?
-(KINCAID LAUGHS) -(RIFLE FIRES)
KINCAID: Triple-A, my ass.
('CHANSONS DE LA RÉVOLUTION' BY LOS MACHUCAMBOS)
(SCREAMING)
AGENT OVER RADIO: All Interpol agents, you are authorised.
Shoot to kill.
Interpol. Get the fuck out now.
Shit. Shit!
-(CURSES IN SPANISH) -(GRUNTS)
(GLASS SHATTERS)
-(GRUNTS) -(CURSES IN SPANISH)
(DANCER SHRIEKS)
Greatest night of my life! Aaggh!
-(GUNSHOTS) -Breese!
-(BRACELET BEEPS RAPIDLY) -Fuck!
Breese! The case! Come on!
(BEEPING SLOWS)
-Bitch! -(GLASS SHATTERS)
-(SCREAMING) -(GRUNTS)
(SIREN WAILS)
AGENT: Get back! Get out of the way!
(GRUNTS)
-(GLASS SHATTERS) -Move! Move!
Say my age, bitch!
-(GROANS) Oh, no, no! -(GUNSHOT BLASTS)
-(GUNSHOT ECHOES) -(GRUNTS)
(IN AFFECTED ACCENT) Breese, I'm famished.
-Shall we go now? -Still Mexican.
-(GUNSHOT BLASTS) -(GRUNTS)
(ECHOES) Breese!
Get to the fucking dock now!
Breese! Breese!
Get out of the way! Move! Move!
(TENSE MUSIC)
Breese, my baby, wake up! Stay with me, Breese!
-This way. -(SHOUTING)
MAN: This way! Come on!
Out of my fucking way, please!
Target heading for the water.
-Let's go! -AGENT: Go, go, go, go!
-(BELL TOLLS) -Breesey!
No, no, no, you can't die on me, Breesey!
You're the only one who understands me!
-(SOBS) -Baby...
-Come on, Breese! -Baby!
-Come back to us! -Baby, he's gone.
Don't say that! (SOBS)
You'd better say something nice about my Breesey.
Michael was...
..very careful.
(WEEPS) Yes, he was.
He loved seatbelts.
He did love seatbelts so very much.
-Mm-hm. -(SNIFFS)
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
We will never forget the time you spent with us.
That was beautiful.
You should have been a priest.
(KISSES, GROANS)
OK, let's toss his ass in and bounce.
(SOBS)
(EMOTIONAL MUSIC)
(MUSIC DISTORTS AND STOPS)
(DRAMATIC MUSIC)
What in the absolute fuck is wrong with you people?
-Hey, we gave you a sea burial! -A sea burial?
Well, you didn't have a heartbeat!
I'm wearing fucking Kevlar!
CROWLEY: These were your operatives.
O'NEILL: I've never seen them before.
CROWLEY: Only one number called this phone
that Michael Bryce was in possession of
and it was yours.
We have less than two days
before this attack happens.
-Two days. -I gave you a chance.
You went behind my back
and you employed two criminals
and an unlicensed bodyguard
and now they're in possession of critical evidence.
For all I know, they could be in on the cyber attack.
They're not in on the attack, trust me. They're idiots.
Did you know about this?
-She had nothing to do with it. -Yes, I did.
Put out a global red notice on Darius Kincaid,
Sonia Kincaid and Michael Bryce.
We have a problem.
MAN: Three unknown fugitives escaped with the coordinates.
Interpol were all over the scene.
Seems that we have a rat.
Get me Carlo on the phone.
Sir, Carlo's dead.
We have 48 hours and every moment that goes by,
the proud men and women of Greece
fall lower on their knees.
Only two people knew about the buy.
Carlo...
..and you.
(STAMMERS) I swear I would never betray you!
You are a Trojan horse!
(GRUNTS)
Find the fugitives. Kill them.
I need the briefcase.
What is that?
CROWLEY ON TV: Interpol has issued red notices
for the hit man, a con woman...
Where did they get that picture? That's terrible!
..and a reckless unlicensed bodyguard.
That is pending fucking review.
See, that's what we get
for trying to help these motherfuckers.
You know, fuck 'em! Can we go finish our honeymoon, babe?
With explosives on my wrist? No!
We're taking this shit to the mystery big shot
so my uterus can relax.
-Are you coming? -Oh, I'm coming.
We need to prevent this cyber attack so I can clear my name.
I got a PR disaster and this is gonna take a long time...
-DARIUS: I wish he had died. -(SHOUTS) I heard that!
(BELL TOLLS)
(HISSES) Ah, fuck.
-What's wrong? -You can't be serious.
-About what? -My ribs are broken.
I came down with a little case of
12-gauge shotgun to the chest.
-Remember? -Hey, Breesey, don't worry.
Sonia's gonna take care of you. This will make you feel better.
-Thank you. -There you go, baby.
MALE REPORTER: The auction of artworks
by the reclusive Greek shipping billionaire
is believed to be the last of a long line of assets
he's liquidated outside of his homeland.
FEMALE REPORTER: It is unknown what his motivation
for selling up in Europe is,
but analysts are calling it 'financial suicide'.
MICHAEL: Ooh, that is one helluva security detail.
-Holy shit! Magnusson. -SONIA AND DARIUS: Who?
Only the Triple-A rated Bodyguard of the Year
three years in a row!
(LAUGHS) They give you motherfuckers awards?!
Yes, they give us awards and we have conventions and everything.
Ain't no award for hit man.
It's called 'lethal injection'.
God, look at him. He's so strong, confident.
-He's like a panther. -Let me see this motherfucker.
Ooh, shit! Zento!
That is a good motherfucking hit man right there.
Took a lot of business from me.
-Find yourself a nest. -I'm gonna take the tower.
Whoever wants this briefcase is a serious high roller
'cause Magnusson's fee is astronomical.
Releasing the package. I want everyone on high alert.
(SINISTER MUSIC)
And bingo.
Oh. That is awful.
It's like Liberace banged a set of curtains.
DARIUS: You know that dude?
I'm not sure.
Magnusson, three pigeons on the rooftop.
Let me see this motherfucker.
-They have the stolen briefcase. -Take the shot.
Oh, shit! Zento! Gun!
(RIFLE SHOTS ECHO)
MAGNUSSON: Get Aristotle to safety now.
Scatter and converge. Get that case!
They won't know we have five possible escape routes.
They have five possible escape routes.
-(TYRES SCREECH) -(MICHAEL GRUNTS)
Should've used a decoy.
MAN OVER RADIO: It appears they have no decoy, sir.
-My God, they're amateurs. -DARIUS: Alright, let's go!
-(GRUNTS) -Come on!
(UPBEAT JAZZY MUSIC)
If you'd listened to me,
we'd have an extraction vehicle waiting!
These idiots don't even have an extraction vehicle.
-(GRUNTS) -Bryce, get to the van!
Go! Now!
DARIUS: Move it, Bryce!
Magnusson recognised me,
which means he probably knows my moves.
I don't recognise any of these losers.
-MAGNUSSON: Shoot to kill. -Bryce, we gotta go!
-MICHAEL: Just a moment! -(ENGINE STARTS)
-Got it! Go! -Let's go!
('THE BEST' BY TINA TURNER)
♪ Give me a lifetime of promises and a world of dreams
♪ Speak a language... ♪
Parrot is loose. Keep it in sight.
SONIA: Breese, watch out!
♪ Mmm, it can't be wrong... ♪
Wow!
Wow, this guy's handling skills are actually incredible.
-♪ You're simply the best... ♪ -(CAR HORN TOOTS)
I just wanted to say it's an absolute honour
to be engaged in a car chase with someone of your skill set.
Thank you. I really appreciate that.
Steve McQueen ain't got shit on you.
I think that's the first time
you've ever said anything nice to me.
-♪ You're simply the best. ♪ -(HORN BLARES)
(HORN BLARES)
Bryce! Bryce!
SONIA: Get in the car, Darius. Go, go, go!
-(HORN BLARES) -Bryce, what the fuck?!
Move, motherfucker!
What the fuck did you give him?
(BOTH GROAN)
Just painkillers.
But he's so fucking delicate.
Parrot is flying west. Keep it in sight.
-(TYRES SCREECH) -(GUNSHOTS)
Oh, no! Not the stairs, motherfucker!
I'm not wearing a sports bra!
-(BOSSA NOVA MUSIC PLAYS) -(GASPS)
-(WOMAN SCREAMS) -(MAN SHOUTS)
-Ah! -Jesus, this guy's a lunatic.
This is no fucking honeymoon, motherfucker!
This is shittymoon!
I'd say we had a pretty great fucking day!
-Are you fucking kidding me? -Shopping.
-(SCREAMS) -(TYRES SCREECH)
Wine-tasting.
Yeah, with someone else's money!
-Flowers. -(TYRES SCREECH)
(SCREAMS)
-(METAL SCRAPES) -Mamma mia!
One bird still remaining in flight.
(SINGS) ♪ Fucking opera! ♪
And you fell asleep, motherfucker!
Good afternoon. I'd like to offer up a ceasefire.
Oh.
You hand over that briefcase
and I'll gladly undo that bracelet.
-SONIA: Sure. -(TYRES SCREECH)
Bugger me.
(DARIUS LAUGHS)
Ah, that's the end of Breese's idol.
(PANTS)
Parrot's flying south. Get the case.
Oh, no, por favor!
When I say "now", crack your door.
And...
..now!
Oh, fuck!
-(BRACELET BEEPS RAPIDLY) -Oh!
-Ah! -Oh, fuck!
-(BRACELET BEEPS RAPIDLY) -Oh, my God! I'm gonna die!
-Oh, my God! -I got you.
I got you! Calm down!
-Argh! -(BEEPING SLOWS)
(DARIUS LAUGHS)
-(LAUGHS) -Oh, yes!
(DRAMATIC MUSIC)
Shit.
Oh, you gotta be fucking kidding me!
(YELLS)
What the fuck?!
-(YELLS) -(SONIA GASPS)
Dive!
-Did we lose them? -(TRUCK HORN HONKS)
-No, you didn't lose them!
-(HORN BLARES) -Oh, shit!
Oh, shit!
-(WAILS) -Sonia!
Get the fuck back in the car!
Are you trying to get rid of me?
Swinging out the fucking car?!
Motherfucker's reloading. Take the wheel.
-(GROANS) -(PANTS HEAVILY)
(GRUNTS)
(PILOTS GRUNT)
(SHOUTS IN SPANISH) Argh!
-(PANTS) -What are you doing?
-Hang on, baby! -Darius!
BOTH: Oh, fuck!
-(PANTS) -(SIGHS) Ooh.
(SHOVEL CLANGS)
They didn't wear their seatbelts.
REPORTER ON TV: The three fugitives responsible for
a nightclub shootout in Portofino last night...
Phone call for you, sir.
..and are believed to be hiding somewhere in Italy.
Our world news correspondent...
Yeah?
Sir, I'm sorry to inform you,
but the three fugitives managed to escape.
..police search for disgraced bodyguard Michael Bryce,
international con woman Sonia Kincaid...
When you find them, I want them alive.
(SINGS) ♪ You're asleep, little Breese
♪ Can you please wake the fuck up?
♪ In your slumber, think of Sonia
♪ And the bomb that's on her wrist. ♪
(MICHAEL GRUNTS AND MUTTERS)
Hey! What the fuck were those pills?
-It's just lithium. -Lithium?!
Baby, lithium's not pain medication.
It's to manage my stress, Darius, and stress IS pain.
Breesey, you want some more?
(STAMMERS) Don't you come anywhere near me.
I've had it with you two.
I'm sorry to say this, Sonia, but you are crazy.
Hey, hey, hey, motherfucker, you can't talk to my wife that way.
Why not? She'd make a terrible mother.
I wouldn't leave a Chucky doll in her care.
You need to apologise to Sonia right the fuck now.
Oh, fuck this. "You gotta apologise..."
What, are you gonna shoot me now?
Father of the Year right here. Can't wait.
Hey! Hey, where you going, motherfucker?
I said, "Apologise!"
Well, I'm just gonna ride the lithium out. Whoo!
(SCOFFS AND WHISPERS) Fuck.
Hello. You've reached Michael Bryce.
Please leave a message and have a Triple-A day.
Future Michael, I'm really lost.
-Give me a sign. -(PHONE BEEPS)
RECORDING: Your service is currently out of range.
Goddamn it. F...
Now those two psychos are trying to ruin my life.
Babe, you alright?
I'm great.
I mean, our honeymoon is a delicious fuckery.
I don't have a foetus in my womb,
but I do have a bomb on my wrist.
In other words, this lifestyle that you dragged me into
has made me a horrendous mother
of the children we don't even have.
In other words, this is all your fault!
How the fuck is this my fault?
Now, if I remember, I didn't meet you
at no goddamn debutante ball.
-What? -MICHAEL: Took a bullet for him.
Took a bullet for her.
Yeah, old Bryce is just
everybody's favourite little bullet caddy, isn't he?
(PANTS AND WHEEZES)
OK, game on. Come on.
Give me a sign.
Any sign.
Please.
OK, that is a sign, it's just not the one I'm looking for.
(VEHICLE APPROACHES)
Anything. Anything at all!
(AEROPLANE RUMBLES OVERHEAD)
I see what you're doing. I...
You wanna play ball? We're gonna play ball.
Take some responsibility for your shit!
Sonia, it ain't my goddamn fault!
-MICHAEL: Hey. -You're really making me...
-MICHAEL: Hey! -What?
I said some awful stuff back there
because I was involuntarily administered lithium.
Apology accepted.
I'm not apologising. But I know someone who can help us out.
(SOMBRE HORN MUSIC)
Is this like that gun thing? You can't press doorbells either?
It's just I haven't spoken to my father since I lost my licence.
(LAUGHS) So, you're admitting you're unlicensed.
You don't understand.
He's the greatest bodyguard who ever lived...
(EPIC MUSIC)
..and I'm just...me.
What are you doing? What are you doing?
(DOORBELL BUZZES)
(HINGES CREAK)
Fuck!
Alright.
(MELANCHOLY PIANO MUSIC)
(SIGHS)
MAID: Mr Bryce out back. He chop the wood.
He be a moment. I'll get you some water.
(LAUGHS)
DARIUS: This Triple-A shit is a family fantasy.
(CLEARS THROAT)
(DOOR OPENS AND CLOSES)
Hey, Papa.
I never imagined I'd be coming home like this.
I always thought it would be under different circumstances.
As I'm sure you know, my... my licence is under review.
(GENTLE MELANCHOLY MUSIC)
I'm sorry for being such a disgrace.
We really need your help.
Out there in the world, you're an unlicensed protection agent,
but here...
(SLURPS)
..here you are my son
and this is your home.
(CHOKES, SOBS)
(SOULFUL ORGAN MUSIC)
What the fuck?!
Aww!
(MUSIC STOPS)
Just chill.
I'm trying to have a long awaited moment with my dad.
I get it. You're freaking out.
-He's...he's...he's... -A legend. Yes.
That's weird for you, but, to me, he's just Papa.
No, I'm freaked out because...
Because his voice is so deeply rich in its timbre?
Yes. It's remarkable, but a lot of people sound...
No, motherfucker, it's not his voice.
-It's the fact that he... -Is a published author?
Huh? What is it, Darius?
Spit it out, 'cause, frankly,
it's exhausting to hear you beat about the bush.
-'Around', Junior. -I'm sorry?
The expression is 'beat around the bush'.
-(WHISPERS) Interesting. -It's 'around'.
-Sorry, I'm... -I know who you are.
I watch the news.
(CHUCKLES)
Hello, my dear.
Nice to meet you, Mr Breese father.
-My pleasure. -You have a lovely son.
Can we have it removed?
Well, we'll do our best.
-Giuseppe? -Yes, sir.
Make arrangements for a safe house
and the necessary equipment to unlink a TI-47.
When the fuck were you gonna tell me your dad was black?
Stepdad. And I fail to see how that's relevant.
Why don't you start seeing with your heart instead of your hate?
-Yeah. -Relevant? Heart? Hate?
What the fuck are you talking about?
-You know exactly what I'm... -Alright now, boys, boys...
-I'm sorry, Papa. -No bickering under my roof, OK?
-Understood. -Who's hungry?
-I can eat. -Good, good.
-Hungry? -I'm a little peckish.
(DEBUSSY'S 'CLAIR DE LUNE')
These are all the bullets Dad's taken for heads of state.
Ooh, impressive.
Nothing like taking a bullet to make you feel like a man.
-Yeah, I've taken 20 myself. -I took a bullet.
-Yeah? -Yeah, for...for Darius.
I saved his life. Right, Darius?
(MUFFLED PUNCH)
Breese took a bullet for my husband at The Hague.
He was very brave.
Check it out. Right there.
Bryce, that looks like a freckle.
He also took a shotgun blast for me last night.
Well, actually, well, I was wearing Kevlar.
Kevlar? Real Triple-As never wear Kevlar.
(DARIUS SNORTS)
Course, knowing Bryce and his trusty penknife,
he'll have the danger all taken care of
before it even gets to that.
(DARIUS AND BRYCE SENIOR LAUGH)
You...you laugh, but countless heads of state
have been taken out by the penknife.
No-one sees it coming.
Ah, yes, Elena's gelato.
(VOICE ECHOES) Best gelato this side...
(VOICE FADES)
(LOW, THREATENING MUSIC)
(BRYCE SENIOR ECHOES) Bryce?
Excuse me a moment.
Bryce.
Bryce?
What's wrong with him?
It's the gelato.
I forgot. It's a trigger.
-DARIUS: Why? -(SIGHS)
All of Bryce's memories are with his mother.
She used to call him her 'little bodyguard'.
Every Sunday, she would take Bryce to the amusement park.
But it wasn't the rides he was interested in.
It was the gelato.
Oh, yes.
Bryce weighed the pros and cons
of rocky road versus lavender fig.
It seemed endless.
Then what happened? Did he choose the wrong flavour?
BRYCE SENIOR: No, my dear. Fate chose his mother.
To this day, I have no idea
why a full-figured 290-pound Italian man
wanted to ride the Paratrooper.
-Truth is, I don't wanna know. -(GROAN ECHOES)
Some things are best left unsaid.
-(SCREAMS) -(GIRLS SCREAM)
And Bryce, well, he chose to blame himself.
That's why he loves seatbelts.
Still doesn't explain why he's so annoying.
You're annoying.
(SNIFFS)
(GRUNTS)
Hi. Hi. Hi.
-Are you OK? -I'm fine. I'm fine.
-Do you want me to push you? -No, no, no, no, no. Thank you.
I just... I cry sometimes when I'm awake, so...
Your father told us what happened to your mother.
Ah, if I'd just ordered peach gelato a minute sooner,
she'd still be alive.
It's my fault. My bad. I get it.
Oh, no, no, no, no. It's not your fault.
You cannot blame yourself.
I mean, it's perfectly normal to feel guilty.
I understand you better than you think.
My mother was eaten by a shark.
You know, seeing your mother being devoured by a beast,
it can really traumatise you - more than you can think.
But my God, has it done a number on you, honey.
I mean, you are fucked up in more ways than I can count.
-Now it all makes sense... -Yeah.
..including your obsession with my boobs.
What? I'm sorry. Did you say... With your boobs?
I've never thought about your boobs, not even once.
Come on, you're obsessed with my boobs.
Jesus Christ, alright.
When you saved me, you very gently cupped your hands
and pushed me by the boobs to save me from the bullet.
Not a lot of alternative real estate there.
I could hear the little boy inside of you, screaming,
"Mommy, please don't die! I need you!"
I don't think that's what I was screaming.
I don't sound like that... at all.
If it makes you feel any better...
It doesn't.
..I cannot eat gelato either.
Right. Doesn't make me feel better. I don't care.
I'm lactose-intolerant.
I still don't care, so...
I'm gonna head back inside.
I think they're serving, um, self-esteem.
OK. Hey, this was great. It was really, really great.
To get to the safe house...
Excellent. Excellent. Thank you very much.
So, we just go up here and make a right.
Good news. My contact says everything is all set.
We'll have that TI-47 off you in no time.
Meanwhile, I'll sort everything out with Interpol.
Sonia. Let's let 'em have a moment together.
Bryce...
..I'm...
..sorry about the gelato.
Hey...
A lot of guys lose their licence and never come back.
Look at you. You're gonna be a hero.
(LAUGHS)
I'll come down to the safe house and see you
after I've got some more information.
I'll also have a talk with the review board,
see to it you get a good hearing.
Thank you. Thank you, Dad.
No worries.
Oh, Bryce...
Take the Jag.
The Jag?
The one I wasn't even allowed to look at as a kid?
(CHUCKLES) You've earned it.
(LAUGHS)
THE JAEDES: ♪ Oh, baby
♪ Uh, uh, what did I do? Oh, baby... ♪
-MICHAEL: Oh! -(DARIUS LAUGHS)
Damn, I love this motherfucking car.
-Yeah! -But you love me more.
-Ooh, baby! -Whoo!
MICHAEL: I'm in love with love!
♪ Sweeter than honey, girl
♪ You can brighten up my day... ♪
Can we just acknowledge for one second
that not only are we safe...
..but I think I'm gonna get my licence back,
all because of my father.
I'm so happy for you, Breese.
Baby...
(SIGHS)
There's something I've been meaning to tell you.
-(DART WHISTLES) -I... (SNORTS)
-What? -(DART WHISTLES)
You know, I think I'm gonna join Dad's agency.
-(DART WHISTLES) -"Bryce and Son".
That sounds...
A little cotton mouth. Whoa.
Sounds... You guys just can't keep your hands off each other.
(EXHALES)
(SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC)
MICHAEL: This feels familiar.
DARIUS: I don't spend that much time with my head in bags.
MICHAEL: You think maybe once you could spot the ambush?
-DARIUS: Oh. -Watch my hair, motherfucker.
-(DARIUS GROANS) -No way! Mags!
Huge fan!
Are you seriously dick-riding right now?
100%. He's my hero.
(E-CIGARETTE RASPS)
I'm thinking about getting into vaping.
Seems like the right thing to do.
What in the A-double-money-sign is that?
(SINISTER MUSIC)
Aristotle Papdopolous.
My little souvlaki.
My sweet bougatsa.
My darling.
I thought I had lost you forever.
So many sleepless nights.
So long have I wandered in a maze of despair.
Uh, anybody wanna tell me what the fuck's going on here?
(ECHOES) Monaco.
A girl who had lost her way,
turning tricks with wealthy men at craps tables.
But when she met a mysterious Greek man,
he taught her there was more to life.
A life of art,
literature,
dance and passion.
She learned to appreciate the finest things in life.
But when the cheap decking aboard his megayacht
snapped her beautiful Gucci heel,
fate took another turn.
She was found by fishermen.
She laid in bed for weeks
and when she finally woke, she had amnesia.
Now seeing your face
and listening to your voice so closely to my ear,
it all came rushing back to me.
-You've cured me. -ARISTOTLE: Mm.
Can you put the hood back on?
You got history with this motherfucker?
ARISTOTLE: And if I'd known earlier
it was you who had my case,
I would have ensured
you were treated like the Aphrodite you are.
Thank you.
-ARISTOTLE: Have these two... -Oh.
..brought to Lucas and Francesco in my torture chambers.
Torture chamber?
-Did he say, "Cha-cha chamber?" -No, motherfucker, he did not!
Perhaps one day
you'll learn that great men don't need to stoop to vulgarity
to express themselves.
Oh, I know how to express myself, motherfucker.
-Take them away. -Believe me.
I have not begun to express myself.
MICHAEL: Do we have separate torture chambers?
(DARIUS SHOUTS INDISTINCTLY)
ARISTOTLE: The final piece of my master plan -
to win justice for Europe's atrocities.
Take it to the technology centre and have my yacht prepared.
(BRACELET BEEPS)
Come with me.
I have something to show you.
(DEBUSSY'S 'CLAIR DE LUNE')
(GASPS)
The room we dreamed of building together.
Oh, amazing.
Yes, I had it completed after you disappeared
in the hope it would be a beacon for your return.
You ever think that...that maybe she's conning you?
What?
I'm just saying, she's a con woman.
That's what con women do.
Con person? Person? I don't know how you say that.
Could you guys come back a little bit later?
We're in the middle of a...
You're gonna tell us everything you know.
(BOTH LAUGH)
(MICHAEL LAUGHS) Oh, my God.
(LAUGHS) I'm not telling you a motherfucking thing.
-(TASER ZAPS) -(GROANS AND YELLS)
You can taser him all the fucking live-long day
and he won't say a goddamn word.
So, you never had a family?
You were my only true love.
You have suffered so much.
-(SCREAMS) -He can go all day with that.
You can electrocute him all day. It'll only make him angrier.
(DARIUS LAUGHS)
-Hoo! -Mm-hm. Yeah.
Wait. I, on the other hand, will tell you everything.
I'll tell you everything if you just keep...
-Really?! -Yeah.
Sonia showed up. I was on vacation.
Oh, motherfucker!
She said Kincaid was in trouble and then Interpol came.
I don't even know where those guys came from.
The guy's name was Bobby O'Neill.
Probably Robert O'Neill. That guy was mean.
The point is that he wanted us to make a buy.
I don't even know what a buy is. That's, like, a drug thing?
(GRUNTS AND YELLS)
-(GRUNTS) -I mean, that could be anything.
Is that Francesco or are you...
-(CHOKES) -DARIUS: Let me down!
Let me down, motherfucker!
-(GRUNTS) -(NECK SNAPS)
It is insensitive of me to show you this
considering your condition.
-My what? -Carlo was an associate of mine.
When he found your husband, he was at a fertility clinic.
-A fertility clinic? -Buying fresh eggs.
I assumed...you were barren.
-(ALARM BLARES) -Sir, we have a situation.
Remind me never to tell you shit.
-Well, we're free, aren't we? -Yeah, fuck it.
Let's go save my girl.
I don't know if I buy this whole amnesia thing.
All this sudden hating on Sonia. She fucking loves you!
I'm not hating on Sonia. I'm just saying...
I just reminds me of something, you know?
It's like a book or a movie or something.
Please don't fire a gun in a cave!
Motherfucker, you didn't get tased. Shut up.
Huh! I guess we'll find out what a mace will do.
Oh, that's...that's decorative, I think.
What is it? It's gonna drive me crazy.
(MEN GRUNT)
(GASPS) 'Overboard'!
Kurt Russell, Goldie Hawn. She gets amnesia.
Oh, I feel so much better!
Oh, bullshit.
Whoa, shit! I wanted to keep that fucking mace.
(GUARD SHOUTS)
(ALARM BLARES)
-Sonia! Sonia! Sonia! -Hey! Stop yelling!
Hey, you're gonna get us fucking killed.
-There she is! There she is! -No, no, no, no.
-Sonia! I'm coming to get you! -You lied to me.
-What?! -The night of our honeymoon.
-You didn't take a job. -Are we really doing this now?
You went to a fertility clinic to buy fresh eggs
because you think mine are rotten.
Baby, you can't buy eggs at a fertility clinic
like a grocery store.
That motherfucker's lying to you!
Do you want a life on the run
or do you want the stability of a family?
Goodbye, Darius. It's over.
-Baby, no. -We gotta go. We gotta go.
-Darius... -Sonia, Sonia! Please!
(ECHOES) Let's go!
ANTHONY HAMILTON: ♪ Is an angry thing
♪ It'll tear your heart to pieces
♪ And love, such a crazy thing
♪ It'll break you down when you least expect it
♪ Thought I knew about love
♪ Mm, I've been deceived... ♪
MICHAEL: Maybe she's playing him to play you, you know,
like a triple cross.
DARIUS: There's no fucking triple cross.
If that's the lifestyle she wants
and he can give it to her,
more power to him.
I got no money in the bank,
Interpol's always in my ass
and I'm a hit man shooting blanks.
Wait, wait, hold on. Wait, what?
Not bullets, motherfucker. Sperm.
I got shot in the nuts on a job
and I never told Sonia about it.
You don't have testicles?
No. I mean yes! Yes, I have testicles.
The right one, Kool & the Gang.
The left one, Fugazi.
So, my swimmers aren't strong enough
to get across the finish line
so I can give Sonia what she wants most in the world.
I told you, just be honest with her.
None of this would've happened if you were honest with her!
That shit always leads to an ass-whippin' or a jail sentence.
I'll see you when I see you.
-Where are you going? -(SIGHS)
Hey, Darius!
Darius!
Dad, there was an ambush and...
What's the Jag doing here?
You are the dumbest motherfucker I have ever met.
Wow. That, uh...
I handle Aristotle's security detail
while he's in Italy, you moron.
You...you work for the bad guys?
A Triple-A puts his clients ahead of God, family
and certainly a pantywaist such as yourself.
You are a cruel son of...
-(CRACKING) -Ah! Arrgh!
Oh! God...
I would turn you in,
but that would be an admission that I think you're a threat.
Oh, and, Bryce, I spoke to the review board.
They agreed with me - you're barred for life.
My real dad would never treat me like this.
Your real dad. Bullshit.
Nobody knows who your real dad was.
Your mother was - how do I say it? -
intensely social.
Wow.
Now, get off my trash. You're a stain on my legacy.
(DOOR CLOSES)
(INTENSE MUSIC)
(LAIDBACK ROCK MUSIC)
SONG: ♪ Well, I don't mind sleeping alone
♪ If it means I don't have to play your crazy games no more
♪ You're the most precious thing I've ever seen
♪ But I ain't gonna let it slide
♪ When you're mean to me
♪ I know the love that I deserve
♪ And I hope you find yourself
♪ Before I find somebody else to be my love
♪ I hope you find yourself
♪ Before I find somebody else to be my love... ♪
Ugh. Ugh!
Ugh! Ah!
(LAUGHS)
Out of all of gin joints in all the world, you walk into mine.
My dad screwed us. He's Aristotle's head of security.
Also, he really hates me.
I owe you an apology, Kincaid.
You know, your thing really is better than my thing.
No more Mr Nice Bryce.
I wanna be a bad-ass, you know? I wanna be loose.
Hey...we should do some coke!
-(LAUGHS) -(PHONE RINGS)
Motherfucker, you would OD on a baby aspirin and a diet soda.
(PHONE RINGS)
WOMAN ON PHONE: I wanna speak to Darius Kincaid, please.
Is there a Mr Kincaid here?
-Who's asking? -(GLASS SMASHES)
-His fucking wife, motherfucker! -Your wife.
What the fuck do you want and how the fuck did you find me?
I found you 'cause they found you, motherfucker.
There's a kill team coming your way,
so you better get the fuck out of there.
And how dare you give me attitude
when I am risking my hot ass over here
so that we can have our fucking honeymoon.
And what about all that shit in Monaco?
Oh, come on, Darius,
you know how many men I'd conned before you came along?
-I never had amnesia. -For real?
How could you think for a second that I would leave you?
I can't imagine my life without you.
Baby, look,
I didn't go to a fertility clinic because of you.
(SIGHS) Baby.
I think you can't get pregnant because of me.
I lied to you because I know how much you want a family
and I didn't wanna disappoint you.
You went to that clinic
so I didn't have to confront the fact
that my tick-tock has ticked its last tock.
Would've been nice to have a family.
We can adopt!
Oh, yes, baby!
You will be the BEST father, baby.
I mean, look how good you've been for Breese,
this dysfunctional, abandoned poor child.
-His father obviously hates him. -(MOUTHS WORDS)
I mean, he doesn't have any friends.
And you, you've been nothing but a ray of sunlight.
I love you so much, Sonia Kincaid.
And I'm coming to rescue your ass.
I love you more than ever, mi cucaracha.
But you better hurry the fuck up
because this motherfucker is crazy!
He's going to destroy Europe to save Greece.
He's drilling into Viarregio's data grid tomorrow
while he escapes on his yacht.
-(TYRES SCREECH) -You have to stop him.
Get the fuck down!
Whoo!
Bullets are allergic to me...
DARIUS: Motherfucker, you were not born to say my lines!
-(LINE DISCONNECTS) -Darius? Darius?
So, how does it feel to lose the one you love?
I, for one, did not sleep.
The pain was, uh...
..so immense.
Amnesia?
Really?
Do you think I haven't seen the film 'Overboard'?
Kurt Russell, Goldie Hawn.
A minor classic.
(GROANS)
My security has already exterminated your cucaracha.
(SCOFFS)
And you will die alone and without a family.
(BOTH LAUGH)
No-one in this world can kill Darius Kincaid.
That motherfucker is unkillable.
-(TYRES SCREECH) -(GRUNTS)
-MICHAEL: Whoo!
Oh! Car chase.
Oh, shit!
(TYRES SCREECH)
SONG: ♪ You want it all the way... ♪
You've reached Michael Bryce.
Leave a message and have a Triple-A day.
-Hey, future Mike. It's me. -Fuck!
Are you seriously making a phone call right now?
Oh, shit!
I feel like my spiritual journey is almost complete.
But now I realise...
..safety's for losers!
Whoo!
-The old Bryce, he is long gone. -(TYRES SCREECH)
I'm driving without a seatbelt now.
♪ Now it's too much to lose... ♪
It's a crazy thing that happens
when you... when you lose everything.
-(TYRES SCREECH) -Shit!
You got nothing left to lose.
♪ It's like war! It's like... ♪
(MEN SHOUT)
You know, it's like Tim McGraw always says...
-Tim Mc-fucking-who? -(SHOUTING)
You gotta live like you were dying.
Arrgh! (GRUNTS)
That is the lamest shit I have ever heard in my life!
I'm at the event horizon, baby. I mean, I feel truly...
-Nobody's after us. Slow down. -..and completely free.
Bryce, Bryce, Bryce, come back. Come back.
You don't...you don't have to go this fast.
No, not just, like, symbolically free
but, like, truly and absolutely 100% free.
I'm like a bird.
Fuck.
(PANTS)
It's OK!
My knees, head and skin broke the fall.
-(TYRES SCREECH) -Ahh!
(GUNSHOT)
(GASPS AND SCREAMS)
I'm OK.
-I'm OK. -(ENGINE ROARS)
MICHAEL: So, I'm gonna see my dad and I'm...I'm really nervous
because all I want in the world is for him to be proud of me.
And I think you, future Michael,
will be proud of me for dealing with this.
I know I've said a lot of things and...
(DARIUS LAUGHS)
Whatever the fuck this future-Michael shit is,
it's got to go.
You ARE the future Michael, motherfucker.
My dad called me a stain on his legacy.
Jesus Christ, look, I get it.
You are a fuck-up, OK?
You got some fucking issues.
But you can't allow
a motherfucker you share not one drop of DNA with to define you.
(SIGHS)
Something I've been meaning to tell you.
When I got clipped in the nuts...
..happened in Brussels.
Brussels?
I'm Michael Bryce, your executive protection agent.
-Get down! -Shots fired!
Contact! Contact!
-(TYRES SQUEAL) -(MACHINE GUN FIRE)
Arrgh! Motherf... (GRUNTS)
I'm the one who shot you in the nuts
and you never thought to tell me that?
That's a W for me. That's a big L for you.
Nah, it was a ricochet.
-Ricochet my ass, motherfucker! -Ricochets don't count...
-It's an L for you. -..unless you call 'em...
-Take the L! -..motherfucker.
(LAUGHS)
Despite the fact you get on my last motherfucking nerve,
you're a pretty good fucking bodyguard.
I'm never getting my licence back. That's over.
My dad talked to the review board. I'm done.
Fuck the review board,
fuck that motherfucker you call Dad.
You don't need a licence.
What do bodyguards do?
They protect people?
And the whole of Europe needs your protection right now.
Now, repeat after me -
I'm unlicensed and I don't give a fuck.
I'm unlicensed and that's terrible...
Ohh!
Ahh! (SNIFFS)
-Again? -(SNIFFS)
I'm unlicensed and I don't give a fuck.
Louder.
I'm unlicensed and I don't give a fuck!
Robust!
(SHOUTS) I'm unlicensed and I don't give a fuck!
Now, let's go do what we do and fuck some shit up!
Let's go fuck some shit up!
-MAN: Hands in the air! -Nope! Wasn't touching it.
MICHAEL: We're telling you the truth.
Sonia told Kincaid
that Aristotle is drilling into the data junction at Viarregio.
He's gonna upload the virus in an hour.
Aristotle is too influential. We won't get a warrant in time.
-Let us take him down. -Come on.
We just got reports of drilling
at a location in the centre of Viarregio.
What assets do we have on the ground in that region?
The closest agent is Bobby O'Neill.
CROWLEY: Oh, fuck!
Perhaps it's time we do things the Boston way.
Fine. Alert all local forces and send them to that drill.
There's also a megayacht fleeing for international waters.
Christ's sakes.
So, don't be the government agent in the documentary
who has all the info on the bad guy, then lets him go anyway.
-Don't be that guy. -Woman.
I think that's implied.
What do you need to stop Aristotle?
We need boats.
And we need guns.
(LAUGHS) That's my motherfucking bodyguard!
-And we need them. -What?
MICHAEL: What are your names?
-Gary. -Johan.
Gary, Johan, are you ready to get your fuck on?
What?
That came out wrong.
Not together. With us.
That also came out wrong.
You're gonna get your fuck on in an action context.
(MOTOR REVS)
We have visual of the hit man and the bodyguard
leaving port in a speedboat.
Deploy level one security.
-Go, go, go, go! -Let's move!
Hey, Gary, I think we're outnumbered!
No fucking shit, Johan!
Arrgh!
God, I hope Gary and Johan are OK.
How the fuck did they even think that's us?
Those motherfuckers didn't hit nobody!
Well, it's called a decoy, Darius. Bodyguarding 101.
My dad's gonna have three levels of security.
-That was the first. -Boring.
-Well, boring is always best. -Get the fuck outta here.
I will turn this boat around!
O'NEILL: What was it your boss was saying about me?
"Outlandish conspiracy theories. Tying up resources."
(LAUGHS)
When O'Neill proves himself right,
he gets a full police escort and a SWAT team.
(SIRENS WAIL)
We're 30 seconds out from Viarregio.
Copy that.
O'NEILL: If we don't stop the drill,
they'll upload the virus and wipe out Europe.
(MEN SHOUT)
O'NEILL: Get down, get down! On the ground!
Get down, get down! Everybody down!
-(SPEAKS ITALIAN) -Shut up! Shut up!
Stop, stop. He says they're building pipes.
-Pipes? What kind of pipes? -(CONTINUES SPEAKING ITALIAN)
What kind of pipes? Shut up!
Wait, this isn't a data junction.
What?!
It's a high pressure sewage line.
-Shit! -MAN: No!
(MEN SHOUT IN ITALIAN)
It's not our drill.
Are you telling me that we've sent
all our resources to the wrong location?
The site manager here is telling me
the type of drill that was stolen from the dock
is a deep-sea drill.
They're not drilling on land, they're drilling in the ocean!
It ain't Viarregio the town,
it's Viarregio the ocean trench.
And guess what's down there. Europe's central data junction.
What? What does that mean?
It means the fate of Europe
is in the hands of a hit man and a bodyguard.
Who's unlicensed.
MAN: Divers in the water.
Deploying the drill now, sir.
Drill head descending.
100 metres.
First, my little taramasalata,
you are going to watch Europe burn.
And then I am going to dump you at sea.
But this time without the necklace.
Captain, unidentified vessel approaching us.
Is it hit man and bodyguard?
It can't be.
Level one security neutralised them.
Hmm. Attend to it.
Yes, sir. (SNAPS FINGERS)
There's no-one here. The boat is empty.
Buongiorno, motherfucker.
Decoys. Works every time.
Didn't you say there were several layers of security?
Level two is gonna be much more, uh...
MAN ON LOUDSPEAKER: Attention!
We have you completely surrounded.
There is absolutely no chance of...
Not very practical.
Well, can we skip a couple of levels
and get to the hard shit?
Sure.
MAN: Sir, we have visual of the data junction.
You take the upper, I'll take the lower.
-Ahh! -(GRUNTS)
Ohh!
That's funny, your father told me you weren't using guns.
Sabbatical's over.
Now, give me back my... Oh.
What sort of witchcraft is that?!
(MACHINE GUN FIRES)
(SCREAMS) Fuck!
(MICHAEL GRUNTS)
-(BOTH GRUNT) -Ohh!
Alright, you ready for the show?
Huh? Huh?
Fuck!
That's OK, they can be terribly slippery.
Arrgh!
(BOTH GRUNT)
MAN: Sir, we've made contact with the data junction.
Initiating drill sequence.
(WARBLES)
(BOTH CONTINUE GRUNTING)
Ohh!
ZENTO: You shoot like my grandmother!
Is that the same grandmother
who shoots ping-pong balls out of her ass in Bangkok?
I'm Japanese, you ignorant geriatric.
-Look...just... -Slight scratch.
-Slight splash. -Oh...
-Boom! -Shit! Arrgh!
(BOTH GRUNT)
(GRUNTS) Shit! (GRUNTS)
Magnum .44 has six rounds.
You have only one left, cock fossil.
-(CARTRIDGES CLATTER) -Fuck.
I can see around corners!
Through walls...
..and sofas.
Even your heat signature looks old.
(LAUGHS)
Kiss...my...ass.
(GRUNTS)
(GRUNTS) Arrgh!
-(GRUNTS) -Arrgh!
(JUKEBOX PLAYS) ♪ Cry baby, cry baby... ♪
Arrgh!
(JUKEBOX PLAYS) ♪ I saw the sign
♪ And it opened up my eyes... ♪
You're lucky...you're lucky I love this song.
♪ Into the light where you be... ♪
(WARBLES)
(DRILL POWERS DOWN)
MAN: Data junction compromised.
Commence upload of Phantom H47 virus.
COMPUTER: Virus upload initiated.
Estimated time - six minutes.
Sir, it appears that level one were chasing a decoy.
Magnusson and Zento will take care of it.
(LIFT PINGS)
(OMINOUS MUSIC)
Kill her.
-(BONES CREAK) -(LIFT PINGS)
Come on, hit man!
Ahh!
(GRUNTS) Ahh.
(GASPS AND GRUNTS)
(BOTH GRUNT)
Arrgh!
(FIRES MACHINE GUN)
Arrgh!
(GRUNTS AND CHOKES)
-(GRUNTS) -Ahh!
(DARIUS GROANS)
COMPUTER: Virus uploading.
Time remaining - five minutes.
Say hello to my little filos.
(LIFT PINGS)
As his bodyguard,
I strongly advise you put the gun down.
BRYCE SENIOR: As HIS bodyguard,
I strongly advise YOU to put the gun down.
I can't do that.
One phone call and the review board renews your licence.
This is what you've always wanted, son.
He's my friend.
He's my best friend. My BFF.
That's 'best friends forever'.
-Ahh! -Arrgh! (FIRES GUN)
Arrgh!
-Ahh! -(GRUNTS)
-COMPUTER: Virus upload. -Dad.
-Time remaining... -Dad. Dad, Dad! Dammit!
-..four minutes. -Are you wearing Kevlar?
Ohh! (GRUNTS)
Ohh!
-(FOREBODING MUSIC) -Of course I'm wearing Kevlar.
I'm a 90-year-old man, Bryce.
What were all those stories about, then?
-Jesus. Ohh! -(CRUNCHING)
That was just to boost book sales.
Arrgh!
(BOTH SHOUT AND GRUNT)
-Ugh! -Yah!
Ugh!
(BOTH GRUNT)
(DARIUS GRUNTS) Huh?
-(SHOUTS) -Oww!
Time to die, you old cow.
-(GRUNTS) -Arrgh!
-(GRUNTS) -(PANTS)
-(GRUNTS) -SONIA: Puta de mierda!
-(GRUNTS) -(DARIUS SCREAMS)
Ugh!
(BOTH GRUNT)
Arrgh! (GASPS)
-(SQUELCH) -Arrgh!
Your father's got you right where he wants you now, kid.
You're not my father.
(GRUNTS)
Just some dude my mom used to bang.
Ohh! Arrgh!
-(CRUNCHING) -God! what are you doing?
That's making me pee.
It's called tradecraft.
-You're so spry. -COMPUTER: Virus upload.
Time remaining - three minutes.
Forget your training, Junior?
You forget who trained me.
(BOTH WOMEN GRUNT)
-Ahh! -(GRUNTS)
-(PANTS AND GRUNTS) -(GRUNTS)
-DARIUS: Arrgh! -Motherfucker!
Ugh! (CHOKES AND COUGHS)
-Arrgh! -(GRUNTS)
(SCREAMS)
(BOTH GRUNT)
-(DARIUS GROANS) -(GRUNTS)
-ARISTOTLE: Yah! -(GRUNTS)
(CHUCKLES)
Guess we're at a stalemate.
I guess not.
(ARISTOTLE SNIGGERS)
Hello, darling. Did you finish the con woman?
SONIA: Her last words were that
she had something in common with her husband.
We're both fucking unkillable.
-(FIRES GUN) -Fuck! Arrgh!
COMPUTER: Virus upload - two minutes.
-Ohh! -(GRUNTS)
Triple-A always has three. Any last words?
Penknife's a very versatile tool.
No-one sees it coming.
You...motherfuckers.
(LAUGHS) That's right, papa dickless.
You gotta earn the right to call us motherfuckers.
-BOTH: Motherfucker. -Arrgh!
-COMPUTER: Virus upload. -(GASPS AND GRUNTS)
Time remaining - 50 seconds.
Not bad.
-But you failed. -Virus upload.
-Time remaining... -No, no, no.
There's gotta be a way to shut this down.
This ship was rigged to explode if you stop the virus.
Save yourself or save Europe. Which is it gonna be, Bryce?
-Peach gelato... -COMPUTER: 30 seconds.
..or lavender fig?
We both know you were never one to make a hasty decision.
-Were you, Bry... -20 seconds.
Can we go on our honeymoon now?
We can be on our honeymoon...
-(RAPID BEEPING) -10, 9...
..for the rest of our motherfucking lives.
-(BEEPING CONTINUES) -5, 4...
Oh, mi cucaracha.
COMPUTER: 1. Manual override.
-I love you... -Run!
(SLOW GUITAR BLUES)
(HELICOPTER WHIRRS)
MAN: The EU wishes to express our deepest gratitude
to the heroic efforts and investigation of Interpol.
In particular, I want to commend
the valour and the courage of agent Bobby O'Neill...
-CROWLEY: Hey, O'Neill. -Thank you.
CROWLEY: Congratulations.
I still don't agree with your methods. They're unorthodox.
But I must admit you get results.
Oh, is that your way of saying "I'm sorry"?
No. This is.
I'm recommending you for a permanent position
in the European division.
Wait, what?
You get your own office, SWAT team, unlimited budget.
If it makes you feel any better,
I found a bar down the street that carries Sam Adams.
Let me think about it over a beer.
DARIUS: Ain't this a bitch?
We do all the work,
these motherfuckers get all the credit.
Don't worry, baby, I talked to Booby
and he's gonna make it up to us.
O'NEILL: The hit man, the bodyguard and the con woman.
You assholes look like shit.
Don't talk to us like that, you cheesy fuck.
We're not your bitches anymore.
Relax.
I got you your little yacht for your honeymoon.
Alright!
But you're still wanted.
So until Interpol clears up the legals,
I need all three of you on that yacht for the next 48 hours.
-Are we clear? -No.
Uh, Bob, quick sidebar.
No fucking sidebar or I'll punch you in your face.
OK.
Fuck it.
-And? -Are you serious about that?
Deadly.
Youse are sicker fucks than I thought.
Here, you. Sign there.
Wait, what is this? This is...
Hold on a second. You...
You guys got my licence back? (LAUGHS)
-Come on! -I'll let her explain.
Enjoy your honeymoon, shitheads.
Oh, Breesey...
-(LAUGHS) Thank you. -(LAUGHS)
What's she doing?
(PRAYS IN SPANISH)
My baby cucaracha,
you just signed the adoption papers.
-The what? -The adoption papers.
You are now our son!
(MUSIC WINDS DOWN)
BOTH: Wait, what the fuck?!
('DO LEME AO PONTAL' BY TIM MAIA)
(SINGING IN PORTUGUESE)
Hello. You've reached Michael Bryce.
Please leave a message and have a Triple-A day.
O'NEILL: Really? That's your voicemail?
Listen, it turns out it's gonna take more time
to get your asses un-red-noticed,
so I need you on that yacht for at least another month.
You know what? Maybe two.
Anyway, enjoy your sabbatical.
And say hi to your mom and dad.
But don't call me! Ever!
Like, never ever!
-(SONIA MOANS) Oh, Darius. -(DARIUS MOANS) Oh, baby!
We finally get to make love just for the sake of fucking.
-(GRUNTS) -DARIUS: Ohh!
We don't have to worry about having a baby...
-(DARIUS YELPS) -..we have our little Breese.
DARIUS: What are you doing?! Oh, my God!
Oh! Sonia, what did you do? What's that hip movement?
Oh, baby, that hip movement!
-Oh, that's new pussy! -Oh, mi cucaracha!
(SINGING IN PORTUGUESE CONTINUES)
(DRAMATIC MUSIC)