-Hi, son. -Hi, Mom. Is something wrong?
No, only Dad's got food poisoning, I had to take him to the hospital.
Nothing serious, he ate Uncle Heniek's mushrooms.
He'll be home tomorrow. And he's telling everyone it was my cooking!
You're sure he'll be OK? Which hospital?
-On Wojska Polskiego St. -Should I call the doctor there?
No, I've made enough of a fuss there.
I'm sorry, Mom. About Dad, not your cooking.
Be nice, it's December 23rd, Christmas Eve's tomorrow.
-I forgot. They don't have winter here. -Where are you?
In Hong Kong, Mom. I told you.
I'll hang up or you'll pay a fortune. Did you pick up my gift?
How? In Hong Kong?
All right, you don't need to lie about being away.
Your sister is a stranger so you prefer to spend Christmas with your girlfriend.
You can snub us, but don't lie.
I've got to go, Mom.
-I love you, Merry Christmas. -Love you too. Bye.
Hi.
God, you look as if you had your first chemo.
-Say "hi". -Hello.
-And what's the angel's name? -Marika.
This is Kuba.
Take your wings and join the kids.
Is that why you had me waiting here?
It's cold.
Don't look at those two across the room, with two chicks. Don't look.
What's going on?
I slept at Paulina's.
Fuck.
"I slept at Paulina's."
"I slept at Paulina's on the doormat"? Or "I slept at Paulina's on the couch"
or "I slept at Paulina's on the sofa in the guestroom"?
Why the fuck did you do that?
We're grown-ups.
You do what you want to bother my ass with the consequences?
What's the point?
What is it about her? There are a million chicks like her,
liking cash, dicks and shitty drama. What makes her different?
I don't know. I've got a problem with that.
-Problems is what you will have. -Hi. What will it be?
Hi. A double glass of red wine.
But make it quicker than in 30 minutes, OK?
I couldn't give a fuck, you know?
I've wasted a ton of energy, dragging you out of this. I'm fucking fed up.
The worst thing is that you'll bonk her again, and again...
You want to bet?
And let's also bet that by the end of this week you'll leave your...
-What's his name? -Excuse me?
You heard me. Pazina, you hate kids.
And falling for a whore is a good or bad thing?
-How is my time? -Formula 1!
Maluch has vanished.
No one's seen him since two days ago.
-You guys didn't touch him? -Why're you addressing me in plural?
I'm friends with his baby momma.
She'd kill herself if anything happened to him.
What would I do to him?
Just promise me he's not packed up in grocery bags.
-Hey, beautiful. -Don't scare me.
Hey, sweetie.
You're the prettiest angel at this party. Hi.
-Kuba, Adam. -Your friend, I know.
-Great to finally meet you. -Likewise.
So, how's the party? You're the prettiest angel here?
Yes, you are! What are you having? I wouldn't mind a beer.
-Aren't you driving? -Just one, for the taste.
-I've got to go. -I hope I'm not interrupting.
You're not. I'll be going.
Will you walk me to the car?
Go, it's cool.
And we'll get us chocolate ice-cream, OK, princess?
-I'll be right back. -Let's go.
We're not good friends.
We're bad friends.
Maybe.
We're the worst friends.
Maybe.
You just don't understand certain things.
I just don't want them.
-That's why we'll never get along. -Maybe you're right.
Don't worry about me. Go back to them.
OK. WHEN EXACTLY ARE WE FLYING TO ARGENTINA?
CHRISTMAS DAY 11 PM
-Yo! -Piorun, not now.
Bro, we're at the Coco, I'm paying double plus all I owe you. Come over!
BLINDED BY LIGHTS Episode 5
Maluch, fucking businessman of the year!
Fucking unbelievable!
What?
These are not income tables, not by a fucking long shot!
It's blind kid's doodles!
-Go through it, thoroughly. -It's fucking African economy!
Even if they had their own terminals no one would get it straight!
-And the paperwork? -Forget it.
Crucial contracts are missing: lease, security, utilities.
But there's a ton of payment notices. There. Debts, debts, debts.
He owes Balon tens of thousands for his stake in the venture.
-We'll deal with it. -No wonder Balon's heated.
First deal with this.
Oh, and there's the other part of the building.
Maluch could've kept something there.
-Why haven't you been there yet? -I'm waiting for a locksmith.
He might've taken everything from there by now.
Right. Or not. It's Maluch.
Hey.
-The new manager? -She was a barmaid earlier.
-I've got a name, you know? -Sorry. Katarzyna was a barmaid.
-Did you steal too? -More than others.
I didn't, as the only one. And you're fucking great. Are we open today?
Yeah, we've got that minimal French DJ, right?
The driver will pick him up?
Yes, but someone called the thing off on Facebook. And on our fanpage.
-Who? -Someone with access.
-Then fucking delete it. -I did, but it just pops up back again.
Of course we're partying tonight.
And we're partying tomorrow. And fucking after tomorrow.
Put a sign on the door, send private posts, but we're on, right?
-What a fucking mess. -I know.
-Do your shit, I'll handle the papers. -Right, boss.
"Boss."
He's going to be doing that every day. Unless you do something about it.
Speed the locksmith up.
I say fucking bury him, with his kind!
Hey, fucking wait... That Abdul, isn't he your guy?
You've got a lot going with him, right?
-A bit. -And what?
That guy Darek shows up,
fucking whacks his son, the son of your business partner...
Easy... I'd talk. Maybe scare him a bit.
-You want to fucking talk? -What about?
Sounds like a fucking dick mission.
I've got enough shit with sending a casket to Egypt.
'Cause the guy messed up and has to steer clear of Poland.
They'll bury him Arab-style and forget. It's between me and him.
But that Darek is getting into our shit too.
He came to our whorehouse with his crew,
drank and fucked for a hundred grand, didn't pay a dime.
Fuck.
But you know what they did then? He said: "Let's shave the whores."
-And he shaved two, to the skin! -Now they look like you!
I've got this pizza joint in Bemowo. They came in old style.
Had the waitresses run around pantyless.
With fucking families there, at 3 pm on Sunday.
At the end, that buddy of yours climbed on a table and took a dump.
People were eating at that table. Motherfucker!
Let's not fuck around here. Sack on the head and bury him!
OK, I get it!
There's always time for that. Haste makes fucking waste.
I can still talk sense into him, I just don't know what he wants!
Maybe he's looking for something? Maybe he got robbed?
One thing's sure: nothing's sure with him.
But let me fucking check him out. I'll reimburse Abdul for his son.
Where you live and where you trick, there you don't fight with your dick!
He's a fucking dick with tits!
Amen to that!
Motherfucker! What a fucking timing!
I've got one daughter! Everything has to be fucking tiptop!
And it will be.
I've got fresh mussels flown from fucking...
-Bordeaux. -From Bordeaux, to the wedding!
And you know what's fucking worst?
That he thinks he's fucking funny! He's having a ball!
-A joker. -Barrel of laughs.
Fuck his cabaret.
Jacek... you fucking ran with him in the 90s...
so you fucking deal with this shit.
The 90s were another century. What's there to talk about?
OK.
-I'll set him straight. -We take your word for it.
-Just be quick. -We can drink to that.
-To peace. -Cheers.
Help yourselves. Borscht is for everyone. Jadzia!
-Talk to me. -Have you got it?
-Tomorrow, 100%. -I'm leaving.
-Stay, eat something. -Business.
Watch out for him too. Don't talk to him.
Where and when would I?
Glory be in the Heavens
And may peace reign here on Earth!
Glory be in the Heavens
And may peace reign here on Earth!
OK, go.
Merry Christmas!
Where is that Bordeaux?
It's real good, bro, you need to embrace life!
Then what's the problem?
All's neat, I'm just waiting for coin from the wholesalers for the threads,
and then you'll get it all in cash, you know how we roll, we're tight.
And, man, the clip is going fucking viral...
-Hold it... -I'll pay it all back. Fuck, what?
I'll take 20 on the cuff now, normal price, so we keep it fucking tight.
We'll wrap it up, we always do, Kuba...
-On the cuff? No way. -Kuba, my homey, wait... Give me a sec.
-Bro, whassup. -Motherfucking party!
-Greetings from the Turkish King. -What do you want?
Get me some fucking blow, I can't handle that devil!
Get hos with dash and not with cash! Hold on, fucking sand nigger.
Don't be such a hot-head.
Hey, something fucking got you. Gizmo, what's wrong?
I'll have the blow in a sec, I'm handling it.
OK, it's really fucking good. I'll have it all tomorrow,
'cause there's this thing with Ciapcior, we're chipping in for him...
Come back to me.
They fucking caught the guy at the scales, unsuspended him...
Bro, it's tough, he's got a kid. Do I need to explain that?
-Not my fault your friend's an idiot. -But we need to help our...
-Hey, baby. -My Jessica...
-This is Jessica. -What will it be?
Nothing for me and those two, or we'll croak,
but all your best stuff for Kuba.
-Thanks, I'm leaving. -Let me know if you come back.
She knows what she's saying. I'll be right with you, my pretty.
-OK? -Have you got the dough or not?
All right. On my honor...
We'll be always taking from you, word. Always.
For a better price, everything, any price you name.
-Just give it to me now. -See you.
Not in the middle of a partay! We'll work it out.
-We won't. -Wait. Let's go to one place.
-Where? -To get the green!
A magic trick like you've never seen! I got this thing there.
-I'm not going anywhere. -I swear on my mother.
You've got a mother? A mother is holy.
I swear, I'll give it all back, just help me out now,
-I swear on my beloved mommy. -It's the same story with you.
Yes?
Let's get the cash, yo, Luigi and Mario! Come on!
Peace, benefactors! Respect from the street!
-Whassup. -Respect! Respect.
-You're fucking flying. -No, bro, chill.
Guys, this is my friend Kuba.
We've met. Sit down.
It's a motherfucking bash out there, join in, very nice ladies, your type.
-I'm driving. -I'll drive you.
Cheers!
All right.
There's this thing with the chip-in for Ciapcior.
He's in the crew, it'd be good to give him...
Fucking chill with that Ciapcior...
What's up with Bethlehem? That fucking bordello of yours.
Nothing specific, why?
You don't want to talk? OK. You will, before the rooster crows three times.
OK, what's the fucking deal?
Like I've been saying, a chip-in for Ciapcior, right?
He's a cool guy, you know him...
Fuck Ciapcior. Your brain's all fucking fried.
-I know Ciapcior, he's from Bielany. -You know him.
How much, kid? I hear those threads are selling.
-Thanks. -I'll take a discount.
Two, three grand at least.
He's got a little kid, he's with the crew, his private life's complex...
-There. -Generosity is rare nowadays.
-Thanks, respect. Let's go. -You're also collecting for Ciapcior?
No. I'm not collecting for Ciapcior.
So you just tagged along? For fun?
Good evening, gentlemen. Kuba, sit down.
-I'm in a hurry. -No, you're not. Sit down.
-What's going on here, comrades? -A chip-in for Ciapcior.
It's a must to help a bro in need, sure thing.
You're Ding?
Nothing's a must, ever, young man.
I'm glad to see you, Kuba. I remembered something.
-You came here with this Ding? -Yes.
-What the fuck, right? -I'm Piorun...
It's obvious, isn't it? OK...
First...
I'd like some tea...
with sugar, no lemon.
I said: sugar, no lemon. Pascal's law: you lost it, you fucking go.
I'll tell you something...
Ding... from Cunt Town.
You had something, but you don't anymore.
But it's all tight...
You had something... but you don't anymore, Ding bitch.
-Because it's mine. -Your tea.
You come here wangling money...
from serious people?
Fucking junkie.
You come here with a dealer.
I should fucking whack you now.
And no one would say a thing. You know why?
-Boss, I'm good, we'll work it out... -I'm not your buddy, bitch.
-Sorry. -Kuba, sit down.
You're not going anywhere. Sit!
And you, bitch, you get up...
and you go.
And you wait for my friends.
And when they join you, you say: "Yes, sir", "Of course, sir".
"20%, sir. 30% will be OK, too."
"And 50% will work as well, sir."
"Thank you very much, much obliged, naturally, sir."
"Would you like some vodka, gentlemen?" You'll ask that, fucking peasant.
"Would you like some vodka, gentlemen?"
And the vodka will be cold...
and thick... like cunt juice.
It's cool, boss...
One word and I'll whack you, here and now.
Let's chat.
Let's.
Kitek, make Kuba some tea.
Sparkling water with lemon, on ice.
I hear Jacek wants to become a landlord.
-I don't know. Talk to him. -But I know.
I know everything.
He wants to grab the building and build a hut complex on the Bahamas.
He wants to fuck you all.
He had all sorts of plans with me, and he wants to fuck me too, no soap?
I don't know anything about it.
I used to work with Jacek, too.
But with white people, not black apes from Congo Bongo,
when you come out of the can you're still partners.
And somehow I'm not.
With all due respect, that's between you two.
There used to be this game. Thieves and good thieves.
-Which ones are you with? -I don't steal.
I was once in Czorsztyn, to buy a castle with my partner Jacek.
It's beautiful there. Ever been in Czorsztyn?
Fuck, they bought the castle in Czorsztyn?
Never interrupt a story.
You never interrupt the storyteller.
If we were sitting by a fire, thousands of years ago,
even before the Etruscans, I could pierce you with a spear.
Do you know what the moral is? You don't, because there are two.
One from Eastbank, one from Westbank. The Eastbank one says:
once a partner, always a partner. Only the Mother is above him,
Virgin Mary, Mother of God.
The Westbank one says:
what is found still belongs to whoever lost it.
You've lost something.
No, things don't get lost. They stumble onto dishonest finders.
What have you lost?
A lot of things, because I've been gone long.
I had some blow. Cash to get started.
And someone just came and took it.
Because those guys sucked at watching it.
But I quickly found out who took it.
Desperate people have a peculiar odor. Their armpits have this weird stink.
It's sour.
And I smelled this one dude. They call him Sikor.
You know him? Right.
And that Sikor strangely disappeared.
So did the blow. And the cash, together with the fucking faggot.
-And I know you might know. -You'll find out. It's a small town.
And if I find out you knew and didn't tell?
We'll be cross.
If I find out, I'll let you know.
Good. Nice.
Chummy.
The rooster has crowed three times. You can go if you're in a hurry.
-Do you have my number? -No.
You do.
UNKNOWN
KUBA, GET SOME REST! PAZINA
CALLING MAREK
Go on.
-A task force's tailing me. -How can you tell?
SEAT Toledo, no hubcaps. 3 assholes inside, what else could it be?
Sorry, I can't help you.
-They'll pull the beacon. -I can't, not now.
I told you, get out of the country.
CALLING DEPUTY
Beautiful! Honey...
I'm sorry. Just a sec.
-Hello? -The hooker filmed you on her phone.
SEAT Toledo, no hubcaps.
WK 23455.
Or you'll be on the internet, naked, smoking crack with a prostitute.
Police! Step out! Get out of the car!
Hands on the hood! Fucking hands! Spread your legs!
You've got no grounds.
If I had slept for the last two days maybe I'd fucking laugh. Cuff him!
Got nothing better to do? Play games. Like Scrabble without the board.
A fucking joker. You'll be laughing when the guys get you in the cell.
-Call base, we're bringing him in! -Come on.
Let's go. You won't be so funny locked in a closet
or with a plastic bag over your head. Down!
-Any Christmas gifts? -Santa didn't come.
Go to the Salvation Army.
Relax, we'll take it apart.
-You need a warrant for that. -I'll get it like that, bitch!
Don't blow smoke inside, you're stinking up my upholstery.
He annoys me. No manners.
-Get a tow truck too! -OK.
WI 4713 K.
Zgrywus, wait, base hasn't confirmed it yet.
Get back, bitch!
What's with the dance? You want to piss? Huh, bitch?
What are you hoping for? That they'll make a star-studded TV show about you?
Shut the fuck up. The Marx brothers were funny, you've got to try harder.
Mazurczak!
Zgrywus, come over here. What is it?
-We've got to let him go. -What the fuck?
He's a government agency advisor, his ass is covered.
Motherfucker! What the fuck?
Uncuff him.
You push blow to deputies too?
Fucking awesome!
-Stay still. -You heard him!
Don't fucking laugh.
We'll get you! We'll get you, bitch!
Those three fucking bodies are on you!
We'll fucking meet again.
Fuck... There!
Fucking beat it!
-Stryj? -The Bethlehem's on fire.
-What?! -Fucking get over here!
Where are they?! Where are they?!
Went up like a torch. It's just wood and felt inside.
-One big barbecue kindling. -They found one dead.
-Not from smoked, fucking OD-ed. -Have you seen Dawid, the manager?
No, I can't tell those faggots in their fucking slim fits apart.
Awesome fire. Fucking hell.
Dawid. Where is Dawid? Katarzyna!
I don't know. He went out for a bite, said he'd be back in a minute.
I'm sorry!
Calm down. Go home, not a word to anyone.
Fucking dogs will be eating him! Dogs will fucking eat him!
Fucking deadbeat! I didn't promise him anything!
Nothing! He fucking imagined it all!
Dogs will be eating him! Fucking prison bitch!
-Who do you mean? -And who the fuck did this?
Fucking Darek! Always fucking wayward!
Always has to have his fucking way!
-It wasn't him! -Who else? Aborigines?
-The owner, Maluch. -What? That hipster?
That human piece of shit? Are you fucking kidding me?
Technically he's still the owner. He's got the contract with the city.
-Ours is in effect starting New Year. -What the fuck?
He's after the insurance money. It's an old trick.
Are you fucking hallucinating?
That's why he called the party off on Facebook.
Fuck me. If it was that shiteater,
then I want to have fucking him here, today, alive, get it?
Now I've got to clean your fucking mess, you morons!
Damn, he's pissed.
Dawid!
-How's this possible? -I don't know!
I've been here non-stop since yesterday! I just went out for practice...
-How did he get inside? -No idea! Through the backdoor?
-You put a man at the back door. -Fucking hell...
-You put a man at the back door! -I told him to wait for the locksmith!
-Who was it? -A bald guy, fucking jacked...
He worked here earlier.
-Give me your piece. -What the fuck?
I know where Maluch is. You're going out back with me.
-Everything's in flames there! -We're going together!
Stay here, you'll recognize him.
-Give me your piece. -What?
-I said, give me your piece! -I've got mine, it's cool.
It's all going to collapse any moment.
It's Maluch's secret stash with documents.
Fuck, which one was it?
It's open.
Careful.
Fuck, there's flames in here too!
I'll never pay this back!
-I'll fucking go to jail... -Calm down! It's also my fault.
I wanted to tell you to start from firing the bouncers.
I forgot...
I also fucking forgot to tell you that Maluch would fucking brag
for hours on end how he insured this for ten mil. Get it?
-Have you seen the papers? -I fucking told you they're a mess!
Fuck me...
Lead on.
What was this place?
It used to be living quarters.
Maluch invited fucking DJs, artists, wanted to make an art commune.
Fuck...
But stuff started disappearing, weird things were happening...
Like what?
This was a children's cancer ward in the Soviet era,
and earlier they killed partisans here.
People heard fucking voices.
Did you hear that?
Come on!
I don't believe in such bullshit.
There. It's in here.
You go first.
Put it down! Fucking put it down! Now!
Maluch, we're buddies.
Against the fucking wall. Here, by the window.
Fucking cuff him to the radiator. Cuff him!
What?
-Smoke for some, gin for others! -You're dead.
-You are. -Man, you're fucking crazy!
This is my business.
My money!
Dawid...