[seagulls squawking]
[ship horn blasts]
Grand Prix weekend is almost here,
and Neo Yokio is preparing its streets for the world's most famous urban race.
But in spite of the excitement, it's a solemn day in Times Square
as workers clear away the last of the Bachelor Board.
City officials remain tight-lipped about the incident,
but are calling it a deliberate act of terrorism,
most likely demonic in origin.
Thankfully, there were no fatalities,
but the psychic toll has obviously been substantial.
[scoffs] I can't watch this.
Who am I without the Bachelor Board?
-Who are any of us, sir? -[loudspeaker feedback sounds]
[man] Now arriving at the World Trade Center.
Next stop, Staten Island.
[horn blasts]
-Um, I didn't order any wine. -This is from the gentleman
with the turtleneck and blazer.
Kazzy-K!
[Kaz] No, thanks.
It's probably poisoned.
This is Château Lafite.
If I wanted to poison you, I'd have sent over an Oregon Pinot.
Why are you sending me anything?
We're rivals in sport and life.
Consider this an exquisitely dry French peace offering.
Peace offering?
In light of the recent tragedy,
there are no longer West Side Gentlemen and East Side Gentlemen.
There are only gentle... men.
You're cuckoo bananas.
[Agatha] Who's in my seat?
Arcangelo was just leaving.
Meeting your aunt for lunch,
I love how important family is to you people.
I really admire it.
Hey, do you squash?
We should squash sometime.
I thought that buffoon was your archnemesis.
He is!
This Bachelor Board bombing has the whole city upside down.
Well, it's the best thing to happen to our business in ages. [chuckles]
What do you mean?
The city's on high alert just as the Grand Prix is starting.
It's a perfect storm.
[sighs] What's my assignment this time?
This extends well beyond our typical clientele.
You'll be working directly for the Soviets.
The Russians?
Exactly, the Soviets.
They want you to escort and protect their Grand Prix driver
while she's in Neo Yokio.
Do I have to?
My existential dread is acting up today.
This is not a conversation, Kaz.
The ruble hasn't been this strong in ages.
This will be our biggest payday of the year
and your easiest job yet.
Okay. What do I have to do?
Pick her up, get her to the hotel, take her to the race. Simple.
[waiter] Langoustines from Mr. Corelli.
You gotta try 'em, Kaz!
They're like little lobsters!
[sighs]
[indistinct chatter]
Where is this girl?
This woman is flying in from Moscow.
Show some respect.
-[engine whooshes] -[Russian pop music playing]
[grunts]
Mila, welcome.
We are so pleased to have you.
[Mila] Spasiba, spasiba.
Very good to be in Neo Yokio,
richest, most decadent city of capitalist empire.
Race car drivers are so full of themselves.
Humility would only slow them down.
Mila Malevich, may I introduce your personal security detail, Kaz Kaan.
Kazimir.
Slayer of demons.
Very nice to meet you.
The pleasure's all mine.
Charles, let's give Miss Malevich a lift to the Plaza.
[speaking Russian]
[Mila] This room truly deluxe.
Plasma television, recreation of famous Barcelona Chair.
Such beautiful minibar.
So, this is king-sized bed.
It's actually a California King, Miss Malevich.
You can lay on it in every direction.
Fantastic, fantastic, fantastic, fantastic!
She seems like a bit of a nut.
Have some sympathy, sir. She's from the Soviet Union.
What does that have to do with anything?
They don't have the same luxuries that you're accustomed to in Neo Yokio.
That's a damn shame.
In fact, capitalist culture can be quite tempting for these collectivists.
-Dare I say, too tempting. -What are you getting at?
Soviet athletes have a history of disappearing in Neo Yokio.
I would advise we keep an eye on her, sir.
Better safe than sorry.
Smart thinking, Charles. What's next on her schedule?
[chimes] The Drivers Gala at eight, sir.
[groans] I'm sure Cathy's gonna be there with her loser boyfriend.
Actually, he's not a loser, sir.
He's a winner.
-Grand Prix Champion four times over. -But I can't let her see me like this.
Watch the Russian while I go home and get gussied up?
Of course, sir.
You're a peach, Charles. I'll be right back.
Excuse me, officer. Can I get through?
Sorry. They had to reroute the Grand Prix 'cause of the Bachelor Board bombing.
The street's blocked off down to 72nd.
But I live right there.
-Are you a Formula One driver? -Uh... no.
Then walk your ass down to 72nd Street.
[groans]
-[Kaz] Hey! -Kaz Kaan, former ichiban bachelor?
Yes, but I don't have time to talk to fans.
[chuckles] Oh, I'm not a fan.
I'm the Remembrancer.
Huh? What's a remembrancer?
The Remembrancer is a position as old as Neo Yokio itself.
I work directly for the founding families, protecting their interests.
Thanks for the civics lesson, but I desperately need to take a shower.
We need to discuss a matter of national security.
So, let's try this again.
When was the last time you saw Helena Saint Tesoro?
I told you already, I don't know.
Sometime last week.
Have you known her to harbor any radical or anti-Neo Yokio beliefs?
I mean, she had a conflicted relationship with fashion, but not really.
-What's this all about? -Miss Saint Tesoro is the primary suspect
in the Bachelor Board bombing.
But that's impossible.
She's hikikomori. She doesn't go outside.
I just searched her parents' townhouse.
She's not there.
What? Really?
-You exorcised her recently, correct? -Yes.
Is it possible you didn't do it right?
Excuse me?
Is it possible she's still under the influence of a demon?
Kaz, don't say another word. How dare you drag my nephew downtown.
You of all people should know that we have magistocratic immunity.
I'm just asking him a few questions, Agatha.
You have no authority over our family.
We will only answer to the Lord Mayor himself.
Don't you ever disrupt our business again.
Aunt Agatha, the Remembrancer said Helena might be a terrorist.
-Do you think she did it? -Who cares who did it?
-I care. -We'll care when they pay us to care.
Now, just focus on the task at hand.
[brakes screech]
By the way, Kaz, take a shower.
And don't leave the Soviet alone again.
-[engine revs] -[tires squeal]
[Kaz] Mila, are you ready?
Mila?
Mila? Mila?
Damn it!
She's gone.
[groans] That sneaky Soviet.
[elevator chimes]
Oi!
Hi, Kazimir.
Where the hell have you been?
Prada, Gucci, Cartier, Ralph Lauren.
You know they have café now?
Ralph make pastries.
[Kaz sighs] Of course I know Ralph makes pastries.
Mila, we need to be at the Drivers Gala in 20 minutes,
and I don't want you leaving my sight again. Do you understand?
Come on, bro.
[indistinct chatter]
Sorry for snapping at you back at the hotel.
I'm a little on edge. I just found out that a girl I know might be a terrorist.
No worries, bro.
-[waiter] Champagne? -Spasiba, comrade.
I'll take that.
Cheaters don't deserve champagne.
Kazimir, meet the Quebec driver.
A very sad man.
I am not a sad man. I am an angry man!
You stole the Montréal title from me!
Ugh. Let it go, comrade.
You crashed into me on purpose.
You-- You-- You woman!
You spoiled French-Canadian brat, you only complain.
You have no idea how good you have it.
Just look at this beautiful jumpsuit
with logos of many excellent corporate sponsor.
[both growling]
Come, my friends.
There's no need to fight.
It's only racing.
Easy for you to say. You're the champion of the world
and the best in the West, eh?
Your name is already in history.
[Mila speaking Russian]
How are you, my friend?
A bit on edge, to be honest.
My new girlfriend's from here,
and I'm a little worried I'll run into her ex-boyfriend.
Apparently, he's a jealous psychopath.
[groans] Kaz.
You two know each other?
Yeah. This is my ex-boyfriend.
What are you doing here?
Are you stalking me?
No. I'm protecting the Soviet driver. Isn't that right, Mila?
Mila? Mila?
[groans] Not again.
Damn!
[Mila speaking Russian]
Mila, there you are.
Hey, buddy.
[groans] What are you doing here?
I'm racing for Neo Yokio.
My dad hooked it up.
-Probably gonna win, too. -[Mila laughs]
We'll see about that.
[sighs] I thought you defected.
Defect?
No, bro.
-Why would I defect? -[Cathy laughing] Stop it.
Why don't we defect from this party, homeslice?
Yeah, good idea.
Fine.
Let's get the hell out of here.
What is this area we are in?
So many type of bar.
There are well over 3,000.
It's the densest drinking district on the planet.
It's also the only place you can get an official Caprese Martini.
Let's get Caprese.
-Arcangelo? -No, no, no!
No East Side Gentlemen allowed in here, man. Get out!
-Tell him, Kaz. -He wants to be friends now.
No board, no beef.
Let me try one of these Caprese Martinis I can't stop hearing about.
A round for everyone!
Coming right up.
[ice rattling]
None for me.
But you must have a drink.
You are official Caprese Boy.
Eh, I'm not thirsty.
All right then, I'll have yours.
You should take it slow, Mila. You got a big day tomorrow.
Slow? This is Grand Prix weekend.
It's all about going fast.
I love this guy.
Hey, light bulb. We should take Mila on a club crawl.
Absolutely not.
Come on, Kaz. Look at this brilliant squad we've assembled.
We can't let this go to waste. This is the Neo Yokio dream team.
But I'm working. It's my job to get her home at a decent hour.
And who's paying you this job?
The Soviets.
Exactly.
So, I'm your boss tonight, and I say we go.
That settles it. Group photo and we're off.
Everyone say: "Grand Prix weekend international posse."
[camera shutter clicks]
First stop, the Boom-Boom Room.
Street's off-limits.
-What? Why? -The Grand Prix doesn't run this way.
This isn't about the Grand Prix.
SWAT team's sweeping the area for the Bachelor Board bomber.
Change of plans, everybody.
We're going to Tiger Bar.
Kaz, you think Helena really did it?
[Kaz] I don't know what to believe anymore.
-[man] Password. -[Arcangelo] Fearful symmetry.
[purring]
All right. Four vodkas and one boring club soda.
This is so cool.
In Soviet Union,
government would never let you keep tiger in apartment block.
Yo, I don't think it's allowed in Neo Yokio either, but we in the hood.
[roars]
All right, you guys done with your drinks? Let's go.
I didn't realize it was an actual greenhouse.
It sure is.
-And what do they grow here? -Cocaine.
What a rush!
Can we please go somewhere else?
Oh, Kaz. You're such a prude.
I can't believe we're best friends now.
[Simon] Arcangelo Corelli.
Welcome back to The Box.
Simon Hammerstein, you crazy bastard.
So, how big you trying to go tonight? Jeroboam-big?
Maybe Methuselah-big.
I don't understand. What are they talking about?
Champagne sizes.
What? Yo, champagne comes in sizes?
I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that, Lexy.
But to answer your question, yes.
Champagne has sizes.
Each is named after a biblical king.
Jeroboam, Methuselah, Salmanazar.
In fact, maybe tonight, we need to take it to ancient Babylon.
A Nebuchadnezzar? No one's ever ordered that before.
Because no one's ever had a dream team like this.
[both grunting]
Enjoy.
None for me. Thanks.
Kaz, you have to drink.
Tomorrow is big race.
It's for good luck.
Yeah, Kaz. Come on, party with us.
It's a special occasion.
Okay, fine. One drink.
Wonderful.
[speaks Russian]
[clinking]
[Arcangelo] Ah, quiet. The show's about to start.
Ladies and gentlemen, freaks and worms,
tonight we have a very, very special guest in the audience.
A magistocrat.
-Yo, they're talking about you, Kaz. -He's right over here!
I mean, it's not every night we get a real demon slayer in the house.
So, we wanna dedicate our first performance to him.
Please welcome to the stage-- Darla the Demon!
[jazz playing over speakers]
[cheering]
[woman singing]
This is in very poor taste.
Oh, no, no, no, no, no.
I'm fine, thank you.
Come on, Kaz. Go on stage.
She's so beautiful.
Mila's not lying.
Live a little, dawg.
[host] Make some noise for Kaz Kaan.
[crowd cheers]
-They love you, buddy. -Get up there.
All right, all right.
[host] Mmm. Looks like Darla found a boy toy to possess.
Yo, don't go too crazy back there, Kaz.
I think we need to open this curtain and see what's going on.
-Yeah! -[whooping]
Wait, what? Where's Mila?
-Where'd she go? -I don't know.
She was just here.
-Have you seen the Soviet driver? -Who?
She defected.
Take to the air.
[Mila grunts]
[yells]
Mila, please! [grunts]
Hey!
There's nowhere left to run, Mila.
Hello there.
What? Who are you?
[laughs] I'm a fisherman.
-Where'd you get that jumpsuit? -Oh, that foreign lady just paid me $200
to switch clothes, then she jumped in a boat. [laughs]
[ship horn blasts]
Aunt Agatha is going to kill me.
You did your best, sir.
Race car drivers are very fast.
But she wasn't even in a car.
Fisherman, we'll give you $200 for the jumpsuit.
Oh, I really like this uniform.
$300 then, sir.
Charles, what are you doing? I don't want the jumpsuit.
Sir, we may not have a plan,
but we certainly can't afford to have this perverted old fisherman
running around with Mila's jumpsuit on.
[groans] Fine. $400.
[elevator chimes]
[gasps]
Hi, Kaz.
[humming]
[farts]
[snoring]