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See that little smile?
It's mine.
My name's Djilali.
But here, they call me the Mole.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not an informant.
Quite the opposite.
Djilali, what time is it?
I don't even give away the time.
Mole is for the color of my taupe suits,
but mainly because I lost my sight.
But we'll come back to that later.
They like to nickname you for your misfortunes here.
Labeling you so they can laugh about it more easily, but not in a mean way.
It's just way of saying that you matter.
Momo's Bar is like that.
That's Momo.
Friend, brother.
We go way back.
Our childhood in the Kabyle highlands,
the wrench of exile, rebuilding your life.
I witnessed all of it.
His loves, his torments, his children.
Children he didn't always acknowledge, but whom he loved.
Maybe a little too discreetly.
That's why I'm going to tell you the story of Momo's Bar.
Because if I'd known what was coming,
I would have taken the time to tell him how much I loved him.
MOMO'S BAR
A FAMILY OF BASTARDS
What did the doctors say?
He's in an induced coma, to see how things go.
He has a punctured lung.
I was in the kitchen when it happened.
- Was it a holdup? - No. They didn't take anything.
Okay, thanks.
You're welcome. Anyway, I gotta go.
Do you want a ride home?
I'm not going home. I'm gonna go open up the bar.
- What, we're not closed? - No, we're not.
Momo's Bar never closes.
You'd know that if you visited your dad more.
Hello!
Don't get up.
LUMINOUS KEYRING
There, that's better.
- So... - Sir?
- Yes? - About the taser...
You mean, "About the luminous keyring," right?
- Yes. - So, children...
ANTI-PEDO PLAN
Given recent events,
Marc Dutroux,
I've taken some liberties with the school curriculum.
I decided to increase the light range of our "diode" to
14 meters.
Calm down.
One second.
Yes, come in.
Mr. Colin, your mother.
It's not what you think.
I'm an adult.
You forgot your lunch this morning.
I told you, I eat in the cafeteria.
And also, your father is in the hospital.
My father? Wait, wait.
You told me he was dead.
Well, you know, living, dead...
- Do you believe in ghosts? - Mom?
What's in the urn on the mantlepiece?
Remember that sandbox in the park?
She's crazy. This is unbelievable! You're crazy.
What about the theme park suicide?
I did it for your own good.
You're crazy, sick in the head!
I can't believe you lied to me all this time! It's nuts!
And his name is not Jean-Marie.
It's Mohand.
Mohand Akrour.
I'm Arab?
Shit.
There you go.
Shit, not him.
Hi.
Djilali?
It's me. How are you?
Better than you.
With all your quarrels with your father,
I didn't think we'd see you here again.
Yeah, I know. I've been busy.
What are you doing here?
- I thought you might need some help. - I don't.
- No? - No.
Listen, I don't wanna be here either.
We could alternate, week A, week B.
But you need to do your part.
You've got charisma. Ever thought of acting?
I have, actually. Good one.
What are you drinking? No loitering.
- Whatever, I don't care. - Morgane!
I'm glad you're taking over the café.
I'm not, Djilali. It's just temporary.
Right.
Slick hair, mustache, serving pastis, it's not my thing.
- You're being summoned. - Summoned?
Don't ask questions. You're being summoned.
So, you're Mohand's son?
That's right. And who are you?
Patrick, a friend of your father's, and Francis, my associate.
Nice to meet you.
- You're in the music business, right? - Yeah.
Do you rap?
Like Jordy?
Sure.
Don't worry about your father. We'll take care of everything.
Aren't the police taking care of it?
We'll take care of the police, too.
Mohamed,
did your dad ever talk to you about anything...
No.
You know, Mohand is someone.
I expect as much from you.
Francis, let's go.
- Strawberry milk. - I didn't order anything.
It's from Patrick.
Mr. Akrour?
Maybe he doesn't speak French.
Hey, buddy!
Dad?
Hello. Who are you?
Nice to meet you. I'm Maurice Colin.
Or Akrour, apparently.
- Are you a cousin? - No, his son.
Then we have that in common.
Who are you?
His son. You too?
I don't know who you are. I'm calling security.
Shut up. In one day, I've learned that I'm Arab
and that my dad didn't commit suicide on a roller coaster.
Wait. Who called you?
Do you know Djilali?
- The Mole? - Yes.
He called my mother about Dad.
- Please stop saying "Dad." - Dad.
You know that I can hit you?
You guys from the projects, all you know is violence.
I'm gonna fuck you up...
- Hello. - Hello, ma'am.
- Hello. - Come on.
Look, we're not gonna fight. It's ridiculous. We're brothers.
Hold this.
Here's my number. Call me.
We can meet up at Momo's Bar.
Where?
Dad's café.
I told you to stop saying "Dad."
Find it in the phone book.
No. Momo's Bar is like McDonald's. There's one in every town.
Write down the address, would you? Go on.
Write left to right, not right to left.
You said Mouloud, right?
No. Mohand. Mohand Akrour.
Ah, yes. The shooting at Momo's Bar.
We don't expect to solve that one.
No witness will testify. And it's Momo's Bar.
So what?
- Are you really his son? - Yes.
Let me give you some advice.
At Momo's Bar, the real action happens at night.
Help me. Pick up some glasses.
Wait! Where are you going?
What is this?
You need to have a chat with dear old Dad.
- Honey, can you give me the key to 108? - Yeah.
Who is this hottie?
Mohamed, the boss's son.
- Strawberry Milk? - Strawberry Milk, that's him.
Nice to meet you.
Is this a brothel?
Wow. Nothing gets past you.
- Unbelievable. - Shit.
You'll notice that there are also slot machines, poker and bingo.
As you can see, people don't just come to play Pac-Man.
Is it legal? Do we have a license?
No. But we have Liquor License IV.
Let's talk about Liquor License IV.
It all started in the 1950s.
Back then,
the Auvergnats controlled the Paris bars.
But when the Algerian revolution started,
the Algerians looked for places to meet, to lead the resistance.
And to get drunk, let's not kid ourselves.
Little by little, they bought the bars,
and in 1962, when the country became independent,
they negotiated an arrangement which made them
the only foreigners allowed to sell alcohol.
The famous Liquor License IV.
CITY OF PARIS LICENSED PREMISES
It was a short step from the Evian Accords to liquor sales.
Stop everything.
The gambling machines, the whores, everything.
Tell them. Francis is in charge of the machines.
Go and tell him. Shout at him.
Eastern delights!
- Hey, sweetheart. - I'm not your sweetheart.
Okay. A Malibu Coconut please.
Two, please.
Wow. You're on the attack.
I shouldn't look you in the eye or you'll attack. Like a bear.
- Loubna. - Nice to meet you.
Francis! Can I have a quick word?
Sure, sit down.
- Hey, how are you? - Not before marriage.
- But thanks anyway. - Talk. What do you want?
I just wanted to talk to you... about... You know...
About what?
The gambling machines. You know, the gambling machines.
Are they legal under... French law?
- He's Mohand's son. - You're ridiculous.
Come here.
Next time, don't go to the cops.
We know everything here. Understand?
- I went there to pay a fine... - Beat it.
You should see your face.
Fresh out of the washing machine. You're sparkling white.
Later. I don't want to talk about it now.
You didn't tell him. I saw.
I have my way of doing things. My strategy.
This is how I handle conflict.
You handled that one well.
There's a drunk man waiting for you at the bar.
- Maurice, I think he's called. - Shit, not him.
- Why did you let him in? - Have a nice evening.
- What you doing here, you fool? - My Arab friend!
I don't know what's gotten into them tonight, but I'm very popular!
This is a whorehouse.
- Whore as in whore? - Whore as in whore.
Awesome! I love this place.
- Cheers, girls! - Cheers!
The keys for 111, please.
- Another round? - Sure!
It's crazy how much we look alike.
We're gonna make an awesome team.
What do you mean?
I'll take care of the bar, you serve the drinks.
Together, we're invincible.
We're Milli Vanilli at best.
Forget it. It's never gonna happen.
I quit my job.
Why?
I don't know.
So you're an idiot!
So you get your double Ds by stuffing money in your bra.
Very funny.
You won't pay back the 300,000 by taking from the cash register.
Strawberry Milk is cute.
Yes, he's just starting out.
You have to dive in if you want to learn to swim.
- Yeah. - What do you want from me?
Nothing. Maybe we're missing out on a great love story.
- Go fuck yourself. - You played, you lost, it's simple.
I'll talk to Strawberry Milk about the debt.
- Handle it with me. - He doesn't know?
I haven't told him yet. I haven't had the time.
- He doesn't know. - Let go of me.
- What do I get out of it? - You get that. Okay?
Let go of me, asshole!
It's getting hot in the kitchen.
- Let go of me... - Etiquette police.
- Who is this guy? - This guy? He's the new owner.
- Maurice, calm down. - Shut up!
Take your hands off the broad or I'll do the Charleston on your face.
- Try it. - Francis, we don't want any trouble.
Just give me the sign and I'll release the bulls.
Francis, listen. We're done with the machines...
No, you listen.
Nothing changes.
You're gonna hustle for us, just like your father and sister. Understand?
- She's not my sister. - Yes, I am.
Theoretically, I'm your sister.
Really? When does all this end?
- I have a sister, too? - Who are you?
- A new shoulder to lean on. - Oh, my God.
Dad is a real ladies' man!
- Not just Dad. - Don't touch me!
If that's my sister, watch yourself.
- Oh, yeah? - Yeah.
- What are you going to do about it?
What are you gonna do?
Easy. She's not my sister, dude.
I am, though, 100%.
- I don't like her. I don't know her. - Suck it.
Suck.
Francis, you've been drinking.
- Suck it! - Suck it! You have to suck it.
- He said it very loudly. Go on. - Suck it.
- Suck it, go on. - Okay.
Not in front of me.
What? Not in front of you? Why not?
- With that mustache? Why do you care? - Release the bulls!
- What have you done? - I did it for you, bro!
You're not my bro!
- Help us! - Keep the bar. It's yours!
- Help us! - This is not my scene.
Wait! It'll be okay.
Now we're blood brothers.
Okay?
We'll have to buy more cellophane.
Shit, what do we do now?
What are you doing?
It can't be that different from deboning a ham.
- Shit, he's going to do it. - No, Maurice, stop!
We left the counter ten minutes ago.
Someone has to go. Take my apron.
Frankly...
Let's decide by age. The youngest goes.
- How old are you? - 29.
- You're 29? - Yes.
- And you? - 28.
28? Me too.
When's your birthday?
- January 9. And you? - Shit!
8th.
- Wait. Show me your ID. - 19th. Shit.
- January 19? - Yes.
That's crazy! Just a few days away from being twins.
No, we don't have the same mother.
Right.
I was better off as an only child.
Me too.
Go, go.
- Where do we put him? - I dunno, the Seine? Did you add weight?
Yeah. I put some cutlery up his ass.
- What? - No, in his pockets.
- Idiot! - Come on, damn it!
- Morgane! - Yes?
I forgot my wallet. Can I pay you tomorrow?
Don't worry. No problem.
I must have left it at my friend Arezki's house.
- Have I ever told you about Arezki? - I don't think so.
He's the manager of a small bar on the outskirts.
The Little Boar. It was his nickname in the village.
We don't give a shit.
Bad temper. Suspicious.
Yeah.
But also clever. He just loves boars.
He even has a pen in his backyard.
It's crazy what those animals eat.
Really?
Everything. Fruit, roots, insects.
Carcasses, too.
Oh, well.
If you happen to pass by, ask him if he has my wallet.
- Yeah. - Okay...
I'll do that.
THE LITTLE BOAR
Who are you?
You talk.
Djilali sent us. He's looking for his wallet.
It's that way.
That way...
- Thanks. - Go.
Let's hope Patrick doesn't catch us.
Who is Patrick, again?
Patrick Ferracci.
Sounds like a right-wing mayor.
Neither left nor right. He's in the underworld.
He's got the police in his pocket
and controls 500 slot machines all over Paris.
Francis worked for him.
We're officially in the shit.
Yet another reason to quit the machines.
Are you stupid?
Don't you get it? The bar is in the red.
If we quit the slot machines, we close down.
- Then there's Dad's debts. - Debts?
- 300,000 in debt. - 300,000?
So we could refuse to pay, start a war with the Corsicans.
I saw you suck Francis's gun, so I'm not feeling confident.
I didn't suck it.
Why do you want to stop?
- Are you aware of the risks? - Yeah. That's what I mean.
Whores, cash, gambling machines...
After five years as a teacher, I feel alive.
Okay, fine.
We pay the debt, and after that,
we get rid of those fucking machines, okay?
Okay, big boss.
- You're being a little bossy. - I'm the oldest.
Why didn't you tell me you were my sister?
Dad didn't want me to. He was afraid you'd judge him.
The one time you came by, you were leering at me.
I was disgusted.
Incest.
Wait. Me, leering?
Swear you weren't interested.
Do you hear her? She's crazy.
You're cute, but nothing special, sorry. Maurice?
Morgane? Flat as a board.
- I know. - Are you crazy?
You're both nuts. I'm not flat-chested!
Maurice, are you sure about your look? Honestly?
I think it's risky.
It's the mad dog technique.
No one dares approach a dog that bites.
The next Corsican in the bar will say,
"There's a new sheriff in town."
Or, "There's a salsa class in town."
- Who's the big boy? - Shut up.
Patrick, how are you? Doing good?
No, I'm not. We've got a little problem.
- You know my friend Francis? - Francis?
Hang on, Francis... Yeah, Francis.
His wife has been calling me all day.
- He didn't come home. - Really?
- Was he here yesterday? - Yes, I saw him.
Only the good die young.
- Who's that weirdo? - My brother. Half-brother.
He's on drugs.
What the poor man's Tony Montana is trying to say
is that the best always leave first.
Francis left before everyone else.
- He got his money and he left. - Right. Now I remember.
He collected the money on the 18th of the month?
- Pro rata. - Pro rata?
Pro rata.
Francis does that sometimes.
Maybe Morgane hasn't told you,
but your dad and I have mutual interests.
Yes.
Debt is like baldness.
It's passed down from the father.
So, listen closely, can I count on you?
Absolutely. I...
And what if we don't pay?
We burn everything down. Including you.
- But aren't we getting ahead of ourselves? - Right.
- We're smart people, right? - Right.
Can't you shut up?
You city types don't spend enough time in nature.
I've kept my animal instincts. I sense two things.
One, he's bluffing. He's not Corsican.
And two, someone's trying to screw us over.
- What? - Calm down.
I just saved us 18 days' revenue.
Trust does not exclude caution.
I don't care. Deal with it yourselves.
- Morgane! Maurice, apologize! - I apologize.
- Louder. - Morgane.
- I apologize. - He apologized. Drop it.
Morgane, if we want to pay Patrick back, you need to train us.
In what?
Machines, whores, Momo's Bar.
Okay. I see what you mean.
I accept. On one condition.
Go on.
Admit you were going to suck Francis's gun.
Okay. Can we move on?
No. Say the whole sentence.
"Yes, comma, I was going to suck the end of Francis's gun."
- Please. - Are you kidding me?
I'm waiting.
Yes, I was going to suck the end of Francis's gun.
I knew it.
Okay. Listen up because I'm not saying this twice.
Momo's Bar is a café.
But, in fact, we have three businesses.
Let's start at the beginning. The bar.
Here, we are the ears of the world.
We don't listen to you, but we hear you.
No! You don't say!
- I do capoeira. - I believe you.
Topless demo.
Yes, every Tuesday there are UFOs.
Girls like her are a dime a dozen.
- But guys like me... - There's only one, Michel.
Right? There's only one.
People come here for company.
We act social, but it's just a façade.
What interests Dad is business.
He takes a cut on every transaction. VAT.
"Villain Added Tax." He likes puns.
Nothing about it is legal.
It's stealing.
So Dad's Al Capone.
Stop saying "Dad."
Second business, the gambling machines.
The regulars know how it works, but no one talks about it.
Every arcade game has a way of unlocking the dream machine.
In two or three steps, you go from an arcade game
to an illegal slot machine.
A money pit that can drain you dry in no time.
- Shit. - And make your life a nightmare.
Michel!
Have another drink.
- It's on me. - Okay.
Rule 7, milk the sucker dry before letting him go.
And the other six rules?
There aren't any. I like 7.
The payoff is simple. We take half,
and the other half goes to our broker, Patrick, who you've met.
What are these memory cards?
They put the machines into "gambling mode."
Only Patrick has access to this information.
Every 30th of the month, he reads the meters and resets everything.
And the constabulary does nothing?
- The what? - The cops.
Just say "the cops."
They aren't an issue.
Patrick pays them off and they give us intel.
- Yeah. They're coming, guys. - Okay.
- It won't fit. - Yes, it will.
- Suck in your stomach. - I did!
Hello, Customs and Taxes.
Excuse me. Do you have any arcade games here?
- Arcade games? - Arcade games.
Have you seen any games?
Have you?
And with all that money, he's still in debt?
The downside of having slot machines is you have slot machines.
Hang on. So his vice wasn't even whores?
Are you sure he's my father?
Nice transition.
Let's talk prostitution.
Maurice? Room 202, please.
Thanks.
The key word is discretion.
Customers trust us.
We turn a blind eye to their sexual preferences.
Blonde, brunette, bald... It's not our business.
As long as they enjoy themselves, it doesn't matter how.
- Who's the whore now? - I am, Sylvie. I am!
That's right.
That's Sylvie, the grand dame.
A kind of queen of whores.
You need her on your side to prevent strikes.
Her specialty is pickpocketing.
She steals from married clients when they shower.
They can't report it. They're married.
And how do we get paid?
By tricks.
In a normal hotel, you pay for the room by the day.
We get paid by the number of clients.
I think she has a thing for me.
In exchange, we offer them security.
Each room has a switch to this light. If it turns on, we go up.
What's that button for?
In case the cops show up.
Go outside. I'll show you.
- Shit! - Let's go!
What a mess I've gotten myself into...
Look at that guy, weenie in the wind!
The asshole's slow-dancing with her. She's gonna fleece him.
So? Are you worried about him?
No. He's an adult. He can do what he wants.
Whose is this?
Yours, don't break it.
- It's for me? - Yeah, chill.
You know we're not going to screw, right?
Definitely not.
You're lucky you have a bisexual name or I would have kept it.
The Maghreb woman, her secrets, her mysteries.
- Maurice, she's a whore. - She is.
Stop taking everything out of context.
When Dad wakes up, I'll tell him everything.
Your dad isn't the best person to give lessons on morality.
In other words, the Michelin Guide to Sex.
- He had some true love stories. - Was he polygamous?
Let's say...
It was a few years before your mother came from Algeria.
Without the family reunification law, Maurice would've had a dad.
Thanks, Giscard!
Believe me, it's his loss.
I'm not so sure.
Looking at you, your mother must have been a low-end model.
- I don't have to take this. - Really?
Your mother must have eaten dirt when she was pregnant.
Are you ganging up on me?
Okay, Djilali. Whose mother was the hottest?
- Hottest smelling. - No!
Maurice's mom smelled like ground meat.
Oh, shit.
- Who's that? - Kamel.
A jerk from the hood.
Just awful what happened to your father.
Yeah, we'll manage. Don't worry.
I told him not to do business with the Corsicans.
He wouldn't listen to me.
You don't know?
They don't know anything.
Wake up, brothers!
Patrick has a reputation to maintain.
Your dad owed him a lot of money. I don't need to paint you a picture.
Do you speak Arabic?
Yes.
Do you pay the Corsicans?
Shame. And your father was shot here?
I'll do it for half price
and we work as a family.
We're in France, so if we could speak French...
Maurice, please.
No decisions until my father wakes up.
Listen, brother.
You need balls to be a thug. You don't have any.
Got it?
You and your brother with the mustache, beat it.
Don't bother me.
- You were shitting yourself. - You didn't say anything.
I don't speak Farsi.
So?
What did he say?
That Patrick tried to kill Dad.
I knew it was him.
Interesting...
After he was convicted for prostitution, he wanted a less risky business.
Like slot machines.
What else did he say?
He wants to provide protection.
Call Patrick.
Beat it, I said!
Beat it! Get lost. Stop breaking our balls.
You're not going to do anything?
That's what we pay Patrick for. I'm waiting for him.
Did the circumcision take your balls too?
- Shit. - Drink your drink.
Hello, Patrick.
Look, it's Patrick.
What brings you here?
Just a little noise complaint.
Noise complaint?
You sound like your precious cops.
Do you know how to cook, Kamel?
I love it.
My father was a pastry chef.
He taught me how important ingredients were for a cake.
Flour, milk, eggs.
If you forget one, you're screwed!
And?
And...
Cops are like eggs.
They add binding and stability to the pastry.
What bothers me, Chef,
is that with such a beautiful cake, there are so few forks.
I can't see myself eating with this.
Not very practical.
Patrick, the world has changed.
We want a place at the table too.
But you want to leave us eating standing up.
Nordine!
It's a pleasure to hear you, my son.
Mr. Djilali?
- How is your father? - Okay.
Okay. I'm sorry, Mr. Djilali.
Give me a call. We'll do lunch.
Mohamed.
Mohamed!
Thanks, Patrick. We'll return the favor.
I want my 300,000 by the end of the month.
And not a day later, okay?
Okay.
There's 3,000 there.
We'll never make it. Shit.
We need to sell.
- No way. I'd rather die. - We'll die if we don't pay.
- Did you call the bank? - Yes.
- And? - Dad never declared anything.
- Of course not. - The bank is no good.
I think I have an idea.
Prostitution.
Sorry, Maurice. No one is going to pay you for sex.
Not even if you paid them.
Not me! The girls.
The girls have a lot of cash, right?
They eat at the baker's. It's a missed opportunity.
You want us to make sandwiches to pay Patrick?
- No, not at all. - No!
I get it.
- Not just that. - Oh?
- There's puff pastry, pastry balls... - Pastry balls!
I know what they earn and what they need.
What do they need?
What we all need.
Love.
Instead of using violence like most pimps,
Maurice turned the girls into customers like any other.
He introduced an all-inclusive deal
copied from a Tunisian hotel he once stayed in,
with traditional services, like dinner,
to a whole range of ancillary income.
We took our cut of everything.
Lingerie.
Well, lingerie... I know what I mean.
You okay?
- Are they real? - These are mine.
Security.
- Hello, girls. - What's that?
Tasers for your security.
- What? - Tasers. They're American.
You'll be safer.
- The brothers even started working out. - Come on!
The two of them weighed more than a Renault Espace.
Come on, you hookers! Move!
What did he say? What did he say?
They're not hookers. They're freelance professionals.
You're taking it the wrong way, ladies!
A comprehensive business approach, without the threat of violence.
With just a little love, and some fireworks.
I'm not moving until I get what I want.
- You're gonna be there a while then. - Calm down!
- We're cool. - Give me my wife's jewelry back!
What? I don't even know him!
What do you mean you don't know me? Bitch!
Now we can't be friends.
- Maurice... - Take that!
Seriously!
I may have set the voltage a little high.
No, it's fine.
Are you using your tongue?
What, you're not supposed to?
Do you hear him?
Schools of thought.
- See? It works. - See?
- It works better with the tongue. - Yes.
Clears the throat.
No, I'm telling you! The machine is definitely rigged.
You'd never get 800 on the punching machine.
- I can't get 800? - No!
- You sure? - Oh, yeah. You'd get 800, for sure.
They're cute together.
They remind me of someone.
She'll end up hurting him.
You might not like love, but don't put others off it.
He looks at her like...
Like you did at me.
Back when I was the one.
You never stopped being the one. That's the problem.
So why do you keep your distance?
I know, it's not fair,
but I can't stand wrinkles.
Especially in sheets where others have been.
Another good night.
I sincerely hope you never find love.
What?
- Here. Wanna try? - No.
That's not food.
Guys! I have a great plan for how to pay Patrick.
We can change the circuit boards.
A poker circuit board is 5,000 francs on the black market.
Pay.
- Pay! - Okay.
We replace Patrick's with ours, and that's it!
We just need his keys to change the circuit board when he's busy.
And for that...
we have Melissa.
Honey...
On average, he spends an hour a day with her.
- I missed you, honey. - My angel!
That gives us an hour, three or four times a week.
- Have a safe trip home. - Take care.
While he's screwing her, we screw him.
Kamel did say he tried to kill Dad.
Don't want to wear her out.
You going?
I have to.
You never stretch before sex?
Sure, I do laps before sex.
- And you? - I juggle.
To keep my dick from burning.
Okay, I'm going.
Wait! You're not driving.
You're drunk. Mint liquor isn't mouthwash.
You're sleeping at my place.
- No spooning. - Go.
- Good night. - Good night.
We'll eat, then spoon!
Morgane! You want a ride?
No, don't worry.
Take him home. I'll take care of myself.
For the guys from the ghetto No veto
I smell weed Do aikido on your teeth
For all my bros Gone too soon
Free Mams
Hold on. Mams from Goutte d'Or?
- Yeah. - What's he in prison for?
Murder, kidnapping.
- Are you sure he should be freed? - Good point.
"Fuck the Globe," as in the newspaper?
- No, the world in general. - Yeah, in general.
I'm going. You got my number?
- Yes. Got it. - We're cool?
So you're a producer?
Yeah. Well, I'm trying to be.
This thing of yours is really good!
It tastes like pork.
So...
what's Dad like?
Dad?
He used my Father's Day drawings to stop the table from wobbling.
You're really selling him to me. Can't wait to meet him.
My mom died when I was 16.
He couldn't really handle it.
That was when we drifted apart.
Showing affection isn't really his thing.
Maybe he never got any?
Do you teach philosophy or technology?
No, but seriously. I know what I missed out on.
I could have used some male advice.
And what about you?
What was a childhood without a father like?
You grow up quicker. You look for people to blame. Anyway...
It's easier to mourn someone you never knew.
So this where you torch cars instead of voting.
I'll put that comment down to the drink.
Fifteen years of socialism, Mitterand and the rest of them.
Shit, Maurice!
- This is bad - What?
- You see the guy in the back? - Yeah.
Lamine, boss of the hood.
He doesn't let strangers in.
- You got ID? - My hunting permit.
Shit.
I hope he lets us through.
- How are you, bro? - Momo. You good?
- And you? - Yeah, good.
- Who's this? - This is my brother.
Maurice, nice to meet you.
Does Maurice-nice-to-meet-you have ID?
Yes, of course.
- It's fake. - Shit, Maurice.
You're not a real hunter.
- I'm not a hunter? - Not a real one.
- He's provoking me! - You're talking to the boss of the hood.
Are you a real hunter?
- Of course. - Okay. Do a hawk call.
So easy.
Wait, wait.
- He's crazy! - Shit, unbelievable!
You guys are real jerks.
Give me my card back.
If he'd asked for a rooster I would have done it better.
Go on, do the rooster.
Go on.
JEAN-MARIE-HATE
Great.
- Maurice, come on! - I'm coming.
You can play. He reset them.
I don't suppose you've...
found an envelope?
- No, why? - What was in it?
100,000...
You lost the dough?
Not exactly, because...
last night, I did the accounting.
Then I had a bit to drink.
Maurice.
It must have been stolen in the hood.
You got a problem, hick?
Maybe you squandered it at Buffalo Grill?
Don't knock Buffalo Grill.
- I'm going to fuck you up. - Come on then.
Come on then!
- Where is the dough? - Calm down!
Calm down. Are you crazy?
In the car yesterday...
- Yes. - Did you have it?
- I don't know. - Come on!
Maybe we can get a bank loan?
Or we could apply to play Family Feud! Jesus!
You're crazy! Calm down!
I messed up.
We're screwed!
Understand, Maurice? We're screwed!
We're meeting Patrick in half an hour.
Did you ask Sylvie?
100,000?
They're so cute!
Of course, we'll pay you back as soon as possible.
Of course.
We could even add a tax.
- Yes. - A whore tax.
Of course. The famous variable rate "whore tax."
I mean, we don't mind paying interest.
It's in your interest to shut your mouth.
Sorry.
Darlings, I adore you.
But I don't feel like getting me or the girls involved in your business.
- Sorry. - Okay, I understand.
Don't be sorry. We understand.
Maurice, it was a pleasure being your brother.
It's a shame we didn't meet earlier.
Let's hope it's a painless death.
May God spare us.
But for whom? Why?
For heaven's sake!
Did I deserve to die? Oh, no!
Okay. That's enough.
Right. So... Telephone.
I may have someone for you, but...
You'll have to do your part.
- Okay. - Okay.
Come in.
Hello, sir.
Come on!
On your knees.
- That's right. - Sylvie, this isn't my religion.
Humiliate him. That will be his reward.
Sylvie, this is too much.
- Do you want the money or not? - Yes.
There.
Good dog.
There you go!
Who's the good doggie?
Can I pee on him?
- Fuck, no! - You always go too far. Stop!
It's like you've done this all your life.
- I really want to. - Use the toilet.
Look how beautiful she is.
Come on, come on, you beauty.
That's it.
Such elegance, and she's only three.
Yes...
It's all there.
- Where's this cash from? - It's our savings.
We also borrowed some from Sylvie.
Call her.
There's something I don't understand.
Your dad gets shot. You take over his business.
Francis disappears just like that.
That's a lot of events in a real short time.
It's true that I turned up at the wrong time.
Honey? It's true.
- We came to talk to you. - I'm listening.
We're quitting the machines.
We think it's the right decision.
In life, there are no good and bad decisions.
Just useful ones.
That one isn't useful. Not for you, or me.
Does that mean no?
That means we are his bitches.
You young people have no sense of hierarchy.
When you're inspected and they take 40%...
- Fifty percent. - No, 40.
- Do you remember Kamel? - Yes.
He felt a bit offended.
I'm going to pay him 10% to contribute to the war effort.
Great. We get screwed twice.
Like Jehovah's Witnesses, problems never come alone.
And if we refuse?
Peace also has a price.
It's up to you.
Still... never forget that nature abhors a vacuum.
If it's not me, it will be someone else.
Is it okay? Are the flowers too much?
Women love flowers. It's fine.
And clean foreskins.
- That too. - Is your foreskin clean?
- It's your 5-piece suit, with a mezzanine. - And parking.
- Exposed beams... - That's enough.
What are your plans for tonight?
Classic. Wait for her to come out.
Blow to the neck, drag her to the cave and screw her on the bison skin.
I expected nothing less.
You really think I'm stupid?
To be honest, yes.
- Here she is, wow. - So beautiful!
Go on, hurry. You'll miss her!
Loubna!
What's with the outfit?
You look like a waiter on the Orient Express.
What, you don't like it?
Maurice!
Come here.
It's Dad.
BÉJAÏA, ALGERIA
There you are!
I didn't want to disturb you at the cemetery.
Are you Mohand's children?
Who are you?
I may be the only person who knew him well.
Amar Bouiche.
I'm a very old friend of your father's.
In fact...
This is to cover the funeral expenses.
It's a custom for the Kabyle diaspora.
A kind of solidarity fund. Mohand contributed to it.
Take it.
- Is that Djilali, with eyes? - Yes!
Back then, we were a hellish trio.
I suppose he didn't tell you anything.
Saying "hello" to us was inappropriate, so...
Rest in peace, Mohand.
I've got something to show you.
Wait. Was Djilali a thug?
No, a counterfeiter. It's different.
Same difference. Like donuts and beignets.
Djilali was very well known in the Kabyle underworld of the 1970s.
He made false documents, did goldsmith work.
After his accident, he stopped.
You never thought about joining him in Paris?
Yes, I did.
I went to France. In winter.
Every day I got a sore throat.
Blue, white, red.
On the fourth day, I said to myself, "I'm going back to Algeria."
- What's this? - It's yours.
You'll see. They're not brand-new.
Your father asked me to help him import them from France.
At first, I thought he wanted to open an arcade for young people.
But no, he had another idea.
He wanted gambling machines.
Here, gambling is banned.
How many are there?
About 50.
He died with his secrets.
Transmission through silence.
You should take note, Maurice.
What bugs me most is I won't have any memories of him.
That's normal for an Algerian child.
- I don't have any either. - Neither do I.
I met him four years ago.
- Maybe he didn't love us. - He did love us.
- He used our birthdays to bet on horses. - He never won.
Never!
Guys, you'll probably tell me to fuck off.
Fuck off.
What do you think about giving Dad's machines a new life?
- Let's sell them to Patrick. - No.
We'll do it better this time.
We'll set up our own slot machines.
Five days in Algeria and she thinks she's a revolutionary.
You want us to end up dead like Dad?
If Patrick finds out, we're dead.
Plenty of struggling bars need a slot machine.
No mobster has acted on it.
We'll put machines in all the small bars Patrick doesn't think about.
That's our market. It's ours.
- So we start a business? - Exactly.
We'll start a business.
We can use my name. I don't care.
I can't get credit anyway, so...
Whatever you want. We can stay here too,
like bums.
The great adventure.
I don't care about money.
The worst part is that they listened to me.
Come on, hurry up.
The only good thing about having Maurice as a brother
is that you have a tech teacher on hand.
We did that in the staff room.
Instead of buying expensive circuit boards,
he copied them.
Mohamed took care of recruitment.
And when he shopped at the wholesaler, he worked something out.
How are you?
The emptier your shopping cart, the emptier your pockets.
He made friends with guys who were struggling.
Urgent. Reminder.
He made the appointment and then it was over to me.
There's room for two machines, easy.
We lived the high life.
And one thing that gave us the edge over the cops
was this thing.
This switches to remote poker mode.
A mini remote? It's the future!
What next? A flying car?
Idiot! It's to save your ass.
Top button, poker.
Bottom button, if the cops come, it short circuits the system.
No evidence.
We covered every inch of Paris.
- Are you the boss? - Yes.
We put them everywhere.
Grocery stores, restaurants, nightclubs...
No matter the business, we just needed a plug.
Today is good. But tomorrow, you never know.
- Where is everyone? - You tell me!
Son of a bitch.
He's screwing us over.
- You're smoking now? - Looks more thug-like.
He's swapping the boards.
To avoid arousing suspicions,
we let Patrick and Kamel take their share at Momo's
while we stuffed ourselves behind their backs.
Wanna screw us? You'll see.
But it had consequences.
Hurry.
- Hello. - You sit there. Go on.
Since you love hosting my husband so much,
you can look after his kids.
It's all right, darling.
You know Michel?
Okay, baby. Michel, Michel?
The little depressed bald guy?
- Yes, that's him. - Yes.
It's the 7th of the month
and he's already squandered his pay on your machines.
- Listen, ma'am... - No, you listen.
The kids go to school hungry
as you profit from my husband's gambling addiction.
- And no soda! - Yes, Mom.
- Mohamed, come here! - Coming.
- What's that? - I think it's a baby.
- What? - Look.
Well, let's buy another one.
We made all that money?
We need a launderer. Know anyone in your hood?
Stop with your racist hood stuff!
Do you remember Lamine?
Of course I remember Lamine.
- Momo! My man. - Lamine!
- Can you help us? - With pleasure.
How did you make all this money?
An average of 15,000 francs a month.
Per machine.
15,000. How many machines are there?
- 52. - 52?
52?
As in 52?
- Is that too many? - No, it's never enough!
I always knew. I told them, "He's special."
He used all his schemes to clean our dirty money.
- All clean! - What's wrong?
Is it just me that finds it hilarious
that a Black man is making our money whiter than white?
Ignore him. He never had a father.
This is illegal in Algeria.
Exactly. So there must be a demand for it.
Maurice was going back and forth to the village.
He'd take some dough to Béjaïa,
to get rid of all that cash.
- If he gets caught, we split his share. - God willing.
Welcome.
With Amar's help,
we invested in property.
Mohamed bought scratch-off lottery tickets in betting shops.
He would spot a winner and make them an offer.
- Did you win? - Yes.
Congratulations!
How about I buy your ticket at a profit?
And yours truly would do the same thing at the races.
A few smiles and it was in the bag.
- Congratulations! - Thanks.
Men are so stupid...
- How much? - 40,000.
- I'll give you 45. - Cash?
Thanks.
Off you go.
- Okay? - Thanks.
Thanks.
Okay, okay. One-two, one-two.
What is this?
You're diversifying. See?
You've bought all the concert tickets.
But the company producing it is yours.
What are the numbers?
500 tickets sold at 100 francs each.
And unofficially?
Two.
All the ladies, say yeah
Fuck the State, fuck the State
Fuck the State!
We fuck them!
Fuck the State
Our reputation is at stake here.
What reputation? No one knows us.
- You underestimate yourself. - You overestimate yourself.
How's it going, guys?
I'm going to get something in the basement.
La mano.
Why are you speaking Spanish?
His hand.
It's him, his hand...
I get it. I saw.
Calma, calma.
- What? - Take that off!
I don't understand.
- What? - What do we do now?
I don't know.
We tell him to suck us off.
You're sick, man.
I might have an idea. Don't move.
As much as I was against the Algerian war,
colonization produced some good ideas.
People started to take us seriously and we became the people we feared.
Instead of looking for who had hurt Dad,
we ended up hurting others.
You shouldn't have fucked with us.
Except that like milk, luck ends up turning.
Wait!
It works like this.
Thanks.
Captain Migné, Customs and Taxes Investigation Unit.
Do you own the machine?
No.
- Cheers! - Cheers!
Don't drink too much.
Maurice? Maurice!
Two glasses, please.
Your husband seems nice.
Is it true that he knew Charlemagne?
Very funny.
At least he isn't afraid of what other people think.
I would have liked to be different, you know.
But it was beyond your capacity?
I should have accepted it, put it behind me like you did.
If I'd put it behind me, I wouldn't be sitting here.
I reached out to you enough, Djilali.
You forced me to love a ghost.
Now it's your turn.
Thanks.
HAPPY RETIREMENT SYLVIE
Stop it!
Oh, my! Unbelievable...
Sylvie! Sylvie! Sylvie!
No! Stop it!
Was it Oprah or Saint-Exupéry who said,
"To love isn't to look at each other, it's seeing the same thing"?
I can't remember.
Dunno.
- Are you okay? - Yes, I'm okay.
I'm happy for her.
Maybe it's time you hang up your heels too.
It's not that simple.
Yes, it is. Very simple. You stop, and then...
What? Then what?
- Are you going to meet my needs? - Yes, why not?
Of course.
Stop it. I don't know how to do anything else.
You'll learn. Come work behind the bar.
Goddamn it!
Can't you see what's happening?
Patrick and Kamel will find out about your machines.
It's gonna blow up in your face.
The guys you are dealing with,
they're not nice.
Won't it feel weird to have a normal life?
Waking up to the sound of waves?
No. I'll be all right.
It won't be the same without you.
I certainly hope not!
But to be honest, I'm going to miss you.
Finally!
So you do have feelings?
Sorry, but after charging for love for 30 years,
I'm cautious about feelings.
Your dad used to say that the planet was blue
because we were born to be bruised.
That was to seduce you.
Not at all. Your father was always very respectful to us.
Always.
He allowed me to work without having to depend on a man.
So, he was a feminist?
I wouldn't go that far, but he was a nice guy.
Really.
Like you.
Will you visit us?
I don't know.
I'm swapping blue bruises for the blue sea.
Don't be mad at me!
I'm not.
Take care of your siblings, okay?
Shit!
Stop!
- Are you okay? - Yes, I'm okay.
- What was that? - I don't know.
Who was it?
- Assholes... - Sylvie!
Help me...
Morgane Akrour?
Captain Migné, Customs and Taxes Investigation Unit.
Checking if my Chanel is real?
I'll be clear.
I don't care about your shady machines, if you keep them hidden.
I think you're mistaken.
You're the manager of Akrour Games, right?
You must be pretty brave to work without a fake name.
Or they're just video games.
When the network goes down, you'll be alone picking up the pieces.
I don't know what you're talking about.
Morgane, I want to know who is on the inside protecting you.
And in exchange, I'll leave you in peace.
Or what?
I'll make your life hell.
Is that a threat?
It's blackmail.
Get the fuck out of here!
Maurice?
- You okay? - You okay?
I've got this for you.
So, do you want it or not?
Yes, I'll take it.
Careful. Third gear is a little tricky.
You have an SUV and you don't even have a family.
You put your seat belt on in the back, really?
- Mohamed! - Yes, I saw.
What did you see?
He's been tailing us for five minutes.
Careful, the speed limit is 50.
Shut up with your traffic laws! We're being followed.
Mohamed was almost killed and this is what you're going on about.
Stop nodding like that. He's so annoying!
- Always speaking at the wrong time. - I don't like it.
Okay, what do we do?
I don't know. We can pretend to sleep.
It worked with the train ticket inspectors.
Oh, shit, not him.
What does he want now?
Follow me.
Park over there!
- Throw me the keys. - What?
- The keys. - Give them to him. He's got a gun!
Here.
This feels like a kidnapping!
- Hand me a weapon. - What weapon? It's your stupid car.
- Got a crossbow in the trunk? - No, nothing.
- What's he doing? - Why is he washing the car?
He's pouring gasoline on it!
- Kamel, what are you doing? - Stop, Kamel!
- Fuck! - Why are you doing this?
- I should have done it a long time ago. - Kamel, please, don't be stupid.
I don't know what you've been told, but we haven't done anything, I swear!
- Stop! - Please, stop!
And your machines? All that dough behind our backs?
And Francis?
The gunshot, the boars? Ring any bells?
- No. - Honestly, no.
I don't understand.
Are you messing with me?
- Stop! Calm down. - Kamel, please!
Let's talk one-on-one. Let's have a smoke, a chat.
A smoke. Shit, good idea.
A smoke? Are you stupid?
- It's to calm him down! - Kamel... no!
I don't believe this.
- Kamel, don't smoke! - Don't take out the lighter!
Don't take it out!
Shut up! Have a little dignity!
Kamel, stop! We do have machines!
- What are you talking about? - We lied.
We have about 50 machines in Paris.
We'll give you all of them, 100% profit for you!
He's putting the lighter away.
- Are you trying to play for time? - No, Kamel, look!
This is a list of all our machines.
I swear, all of them, look. Here.
Here, look.
Look!
Did you have a better idea?
Forget it.
It was politics.
Otherwise you'd smell like a barbecue.
You don't think he'll torch us later?
I quit.
Momo's Bar, the machines, the whores. I quit.
- I don't want this life anymore. - Don't start. Now is not the time.
I told you from the start to sell that fucking bar!
Now man up. We're going all the way.
Man up for what?
It'll never end! I quit! It's over!
I'm done!
You're not stopping. You're giving up.
We stay together until the end.
He's right. We have to stay together.
What? You're talking about togetherness?
- What's wrong with him? - Him?
He's talking about this.
Here.
Be careful who you buy gifts for.
It's not mine.
So where's yours?
She sold it at a gaming table in the 13th District!
That's not all. You remember the 100,000 francs I lost?
Three days later, she spent 50,000 at the same table.
Talk about togetherness. Fuck!
Is it true?
Morgane, is it true?
I'm talking to you! Is it true or not?
Let go of me! Yes, it's true!
It's all true, okay? All of it!
I spend everything I earn! I break everything I touch!
Can't you see...
Can't you see that I'm a fucking addict?
Can't you see it's all my fault?
It's my fault! The loans, Dad... All of it. The money, the debts...
I thought I could pay it back! I tried to pay it back!
He took it on himself.
It's because of me he was killed, for fuck's sake! Because of me.
Okay? Are you happy now?
Are you happy now?
Fuck!
- Beat it. - What?
- I don't want to see you. - And then what?
Get out! Beat it!
- Don't touch me, you asshole! - Get out!
Fucking dickhead!
Fuck...
Anyone here?
Yes, Djilali, it's me. Come in, please.
This might be the first time
that Momo's Bar is still closed at 8:00 a.m.
Your dad must be turning in his grave.
Sorry, but I'm closing it in a few days.
Uncle...
Did you know that Dad's money problems were linked to...
Morgane.
Officially, no.
Your sister is ill.
She needs help, despite what she might have done.
Yeah. No shit.
I liked it better when I was an only child.
You never were.
Really? Does Dad have other families to declare?
No, but you have a community.
An uprooted community.
They may have taken some wrong turns,
but they managed to find their place,
earn respect.
This community is a family that doesn't have a name.
You don't have to repeat your father's mistakes.
It's up to you.
So, bartender.
You're not fishing with a catapult?
What are you fishing for? Pigs?
How did you find me?
Easy.
I stopped at the first deli. Shocker, they all know you.
I'm not going back.
I'd do the same in your position.
Great. Everyone in their place.
The problem is that I'm not in your position.
I'm in mine.
And in mine...
I can't do this alone.
If we want to avenge Dad,
I need Morgane.
And I need you.
This isn't easy for me to say, but...
You've always been kept from having a father.
You won't be kept from having a brother.
Yes, that's great.
Do I need to count it?
Look at the envelope.
What?
There's an address and a time.
Really?
I'm being summoned?
That's right, you're being summoned.
By the way...
Francis was us.
Yes!
- Can you set up a meeting for me? - Of course.
And Francis? Who told you?
Where are we going?
I'm not here to give you trouble,
but to protect you.
Let's make a deal.
You give us names, and I'll drop all charges.
What could I get?
Two years in prison, at least.
Well...
That's not good.
Ah, Patrick! How are you? Can I get you a drink?
We have Corsican wine.
You're still alive partly out of respect for your father,
but mainly because there are a lot of witnesses.
- What did I tell you? - Yes, he did tell me.
- That you'd be aggressive. - Wise guys.
- He's not done. - You killed my friend.
I won't let you go. You'll pay.
With friends like that, who need enemies?
This is gonna be fun!
I was told there was a board meeting.
- We were just talking about you. - All good things, I hope?
Of course. We were discussing enemies.
Enemies? Maybe I should...
Mention Francis's death? He knows.
What he doesn't know is you were in prison with him.
- And? - And! You got close in prison, right?
What is this? Am I on trial?
We even have witnesses. Loubna!
What were you telling me the other night?
That Francis and Kamel met in prison.
Who is Kamel to you?
- What are you doing? - Asking you to be honest.
- I'm not honest? - Answer, damn it!
When I was 18, I moved to Paris to work in fashion.
I fell in love with a guy who put me on the street.
That guy was Kamel.
Son of a bitch!
You ratted about a fucking murder!
I had no choice!
He said you'd be next.
Okay.
Wait. I've got something for you.
What?
Francis and Kamel met in prison.
Their plan was to kill Patrick to take over his machines.
But Francis knew that in Corsica,
the old guys would never let a 30-year-old run their business.
So it was his idea to kill your dad.
The fucking bastard!
With his debt as the motive,
Patrick would do a few years in prison
and they would make a killing.
Are you going to listen to a whore?
- There he goes again. - Yes.
What's that thing you Arabs do with your tongue
- when you're annoyed? - This?
That's it. Yes.
- Yes, like that. - Yes. Not bad.
- Right... - Sit down.
Have you seen these before?
Say nothing, hear nothing, and see nothing.
That's the modern version.
What's funny about these three monkeys
is they often lead to misunderstandings.
Originally they meant protection from evil
by not taking part in it,
through action or inaction.
Speak no evil.
Patrick has a reputation to maintain.
Your dad owed him a lot of money. I don't need to paint you a picture.
Hear no evil.
They killed Francis.
See no evil.
What's hardest about losing a loved one
is trying to find a silver lining.
But by killing Dad,
you've given me a family.
- What are you doing? - What I have to do.
If there's one thing a Kabyle never refuses,
it's having his own bar.
Stop embarrassing me!
Listen to Djilali, okay?
Would you like to manage a few stores?
Yes.
Mohamed had understood something.
You need to rebuild dialogue and transmission.
Between the elders who were struggling
and young people who couldn't find their place,
he found the magic formula.
Next!
The elders sold their businesses cheap to the younger generation,
and in return,
the Akrours set them up with properties in the village
at unbeatably low rates,
so they could retire in the sun.
They'd decided to come together.
The family spirit that Mohand couldn't instill in them,
they developed it within a community
with a single goal.
Not to repeat their father's mistakes.
See how the truth can be disappointing?
What are you going to do?
Kill me in front of everyone?
No, we won't.
Are you done with your little act yet?
The boars are hungry!
That was for Djilali.
You see that?
It's the deed from the sale of the brewer we work with.
It's in your name. We'll only go through you.
Half the bars in Paris are run by Kabyles,
so you'll have a nice pension.
And if we have a problem,
you'll lose half the bars in Paris.
What about the machines?
Let's try and do no evil, shall we?
Whether through action or inaction.
Cheers!
I, the undersigned, Ms. Morgane Xiaojun...
Morgane Akrour, no?
No.
Xiaojun.
I, the undersigned, Ms. Morgane Xiaojun,
certify that I have no connection with Ms. Morgane Akrour.
You set up Akrour Games with false papers?
I have no idea what you're talking about.
Shit!
Hello, Customs and Taxes Office.
Hello, Customs Office.
Go ahead. I only sell lemonade here.
Shit.
- Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. - What can I get you?
She's a hell of a woman!
- Mind your language. - Of course.
Aren't you fed up with soccer?
It was time to restore the games' original purpose...
killing time.
Come on!
Entertaining the world.
A world that doesn't disappear when you close your eyes.
AKROUR MORGANE YANMEI
If...
If there's one thing I regret,
it's not saying "I love you" to those who matter.
Damn it!
- Momo, how are you? - How are you? Good?
Do you have any champagne left?
- Yes. - Will you save some for me?
I'll be right back, don't worry.
Momo, I'll wait here.
Momo, come here!
- After a cigarette. - No, now!
Just one cigarette!
Come here!
- Brigitte! How are you? - Momo!
- Take that. - What table?
- I don't know. - Whose is it?
Ask the girls!
What table is this for?
Ask Melissa or...
- You made phyllo pastries? - Yes!
- Wait! Don't touch! - What's in it?
It's for the customers.
- Set some aside for me. - How many?
- Four. - Okay. I'll do that. Go on.
- That smells good. - Thanks!
Melissa, what table?
Three.
There you go. Is it good?
- Yes, great. - Yes.
- Enjoy! - Thanks.
- Everything okay, my friends? - Yes.
You don't eat much.
When will we be paid, Mohamed?
I'm going for a smoke.
I'll pay you after your shift, okay?
Thanks. How much do I owe you?
Nothing. It's on me.
- Let me pay you! - It's my pleasure, I swear.
- Thanks. - You're welcome.
- It's free? - Yes.
Can I bum a cigarette?
Why not?
It's much too soon! It'll frighten her off.
I hope it's not too soon. I asked her to marry me this morning.
What? Did you hear what he said?
He asked Loubna to marry him this morning.
- Congrats! Finally! - Thanks!
What? Congrats? You're crazy!
It's a very bad sign if she said yes.
She said yes.
Okay. It'll be toxic.
Not at all. Didn't you go out with a mechanic?
And? I didn't ask him to marry me.
- He worked on shafts. - Well, so does she.