Kobiety mafii (2018–…): Season 1, Episode 1 - Mundial - full transcript
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STARRING
MUSIC / EDITOR
CAMERAS / PRODUCTION MANAGER
EXECUTIVE PRODUCER / SCRIPT
DIRECTOR
MAFIA WOMEN
EPISODE 1
They were crossing the tracks.
I was braking.
He got ran over, she got
her legs cut off.
Now she's trying to fit his head
back to the corpse.
Please don't move, we'll get your feet.
Get a clamp for the legs.
We gotta secure her
till the ambo gets here.
Lady...
Don't move.
Guys, the patient's dismembered
on over 100 meters.
His skin's spread on the fucking tracks,
guts caught in the wheels,
a shitload of work,
wanna grab a bag and help us out?
Fucking hell...
Yeah, we will.
Thanks.
OK, done.
Good morning.
Good morning, Mr Prosecutor.
So, where's the corpse?
In here. Two hours of picking up
the pieces.
Put him back where you found him.
The techs secured the traces.
Put him back as he was! I'm gonna
run an investigation.
OK.
This was here...
Hey, where was this?
And it'd better be the last time!
I don't know what papers,
it's my first divorce.
Konarska. Results won't come
by themselves.
Stop knocking your balls against
the fucking vending machine.
Get in my fucking office.
Pants on, and you're off to the forest.
Your job for today is catching
a dangerous mobster.
He specializes in VAT scams,
graft and homicide.
Chief... Prevention vs a mobster...
where's the crime department?
Konarska, superior's orders
are indisputable.
You'll go to the ponds in Dzierzaznia
to meet a Central Anti-Corruption Bureau
officer
who will give you the details
of the operation.
Any questions?
Get the fuck out.
Colleagues!
Today we're gonna cuff a thug.
All thugs love football.
There's gonna be a game nearby
where our mobster is on the team.
So that's why you called prevention.
What's the plan?
The plan is, that you run into the game,
and cuff the thug.
Maybe during half-time?
The fans won't notice
and leave the stands.
Hello?
Hi, uncle.
Listen,
the problem is, that when we run
into the game,
the fans may start chasing us.
There's an idea that maybe we can
cuff him during half-time?
OK.
Men!
Change of plans.
Cuff him during the break.
What player number is our mobster?
Hi, uncle. It's me again.
What player number does he have?
OK.
Number 11.
What if the players swap shirts
during the break?
Can you come here for a minute?
Listen,
I'm too young for this job. I've seen
kick-ball on TV and I don't like it.
I've worked the streets for half a year,
got into the CAB,
cos my uncle's the chief
and I'm fed up with this operation,
cos nothing's going right.
We're gonna make it, right?
I'll help you.
Hello?
Men!
Retreat!
Go back to the unit.
The game was yesterday.
The Juniors are playing today.
Look! See that? See that guy?
That's the Trumpeter.
Stop the car, he's wasted like shit!
- Come on, our watch ends soon.
- But that's not right!
- How long've you been a cop?
- Six months.
Nine years here. I know this wino.
He lives 200 meters from here.
Look... now some kinda whore.
A bit of respect! You know her?
Jeez...
Excuse me!
Hello.
Do you need help?
Do you need help?
No, thank you.
Do you have an ID?
I didn't do anything.
Do you have a name?
Wait up...
Are you in trouble?
Did anything bad happen?
No, really, nothing.
Someone hurt you!
No, it was me.
We'll give you a ride.
- No.
- Daniel, help the lady.
Come with us. You're not safe here.
You can tell us on the way.
I can't, I must buy flowers.
What flowers?
Seven roses.
The decision is yours.
Think about yourself.
I can't.
Just in case, you have my number.
Thank you. I'm sorry.
- Do you smoke?
- Are you kidding?
Me neither.
Back to the plant?
No.
So what do you want to do here?
Fucking twat, where're the damn flowers?
Let's file a domestic abuse
report on the guy.
Tell me, where are the fucking roses?
Where the fuck did I send you?
Fucking shit!
I told you once.
I told you once, you cunt, and you don't
fucking respect what I do!
That I buy you flowers!
Others would fucking...
fucking blow me since dawn
for this, get it?
Fucking slut!
What are you thinking?
That you have a fucking life of your
own? To fucking work and back?
Heh? Shut up, or I'll fucking whack you,
get it?
I'll whack your face so hard...
I'll whack you, get it?
Just try to raise your fucking voice!
Try it!
Try to fucking squeak, do it!
- Take your hands off your wife!
- What the fuck is this?
- ID!
- Cos?
You're disturbing curfew.
What fucking curfew? It's daylight!
Check if there's anyone else
in the house.
Are you all right?
I gotta make a fucking call.
Go to the bathroom, get cleaned up.
Can you do it?
- Fuck!
- Who're you calling, champ?
Your fucking chief! You can start
looking for a job, cunt!
Who insults an officer
during the performance of duty
is subject to a fine, imprisonment
or jail for up to one year.
Very funny. Up yours, cunt!
You know who I am?
You're two time lucky.
Yeah? Up... yours... cunt!
Fuck!
On the ground!
Shut up.
Shit. You'll damage the vehicle.
It's a tank, not a car,
and that's the death chamber.
He can fly in there, take a piss,
vomit...
It's not my fault the road is so bumpy.
Oh, fuck...
Boy, I love this car!
Piskorski - drugs. Borejuk - a fence.
Matusiak - assault and robbery.
Baginski - drugs. Wnuk - fled from jail.
Marciniak - robbery.
You know what the fuck this is?
This is your fucking job.
And this? What the fuck is this?
This is disturbance of the night curfew,
Chief, assault on an officer
and offending a policeman.
Did you see this?
Yes or no?
Well, kinda...
But you signed it!
OK, your mate gets the fuck out,
you stay.
Are you out of your fucking mind?
The council chairman, supporting
local business!
Couldn't you detain someone else?
- He had almost 1.5‰ of alcohol level.
- I sometimes drink at home too!
And you beat your wife?
I'm fucking sacking you.
Chief, for what?
Article 42.
For the good of duty.
OK, I won't fucking sack you
for Article 42.
You'll wanna leave yourself.
Get the fuck out.
- You're still here?
- No, I'm not.
A policeman - your fucking
guardian angel?
Yup.
Chief's revenge.
I'm sending it out to people.
They write back what they think
about the precinct,
what could be changed,
and drop it in a box.
They'll dump it in the fucking bin!
A metalwork plate with a personal
dedication of the Chief Commander,
annual subscription to the "Police 997"
monthly. We've got prizes.
Oh fuck... bullshit, not prizes.
A McDonald's coupon, a ticket to a game
but fucking this?
He's fucking nuts. Big time.
- What game?
- What do you mean, what game?
"Poland are the champions!!!"
This game.
In he goes!
In she went.
Chief, this is for you.
Luzhniki Stadium?
Moscow?
Invitation to the World Cup final.
Where did you get it?
I won it in the FIFA lottery.
All the details are in the letter.
This is bribery.
You think, that if you give me this,
I won't fucking sack you?
You think fucking right!
World Cup!
The flight,
the hotel!
The Waldorf-Astoria.
It's all bullshit, Chief.
The hotel's not included?
All is bullshit, Chief. I wrote
and printed it myself.
You?
Yeah, me.
You.
What the fuck for?
Everyone loves football.
We'll send these invites to home
addresses of all wanted criminals,
and they'll all arrive in one place
at the same time
and we'll cuff them all in one move.
World Cup! Russia! The final!
You wouldn't go?
You know, Konarska?
I have an ambivalent feeling about you.
Which means?
Which means that I don't like you.
Get the fuck out.
Again.
Can you smell it?
The scent of a forest.
The forest breathes.
Just think...
how it's all fucking made up...
like the tree.
It inhales the stink...
and exhales oxygen.
Shit!
Arkadiusz...
hurry up a bit.
Fuck it. I ain't digging.
There's an unexploded bomb here.
Don't bullshit us, Arus!
So what the fuck is this?
It's called a dud.
Did you ever shoot at a dud?
Come on, this is business, not fun.
Arus...
you will go to your friends
from Zoliborz
and tell them that from now on,
from every point in Grochow,
we want a 50% share. Get it?
I'm saying nothing. I don't give a shit
about you and neither do they.
- I'll finish him.
- Padrino said not to fucking kill him.
I'll shoot the dud, and we'll say
he was a military freak.
Great.
He died from a ricochet.
Vicious bastard.
Eight for the face...
seven for the butt...
six for the boobs.
Those are some fucked up melons.
They got them by nature.
From giving fucking head.
You know why she's got no hair
on the beaver?
OK, shoot.
Grass doesn't grow on motorways.
- What, you didn't fucking get it?
- I should've taken that dud.
I'd shove it up her.
Fuck off, perv.
Guys, I'm fucking leaving.
Fuck it, we'll spill some ice
and you'll have a sniff.
Zaba, coke's unhealthy.
Take it easy on yourself.
So, cheers!
Cheers.
What's up?
Easy.
Good evening.
- You came here to pick up chicks?
- I'm looking for Cynk.
Do we know a Cynk?
He pushed crack for me in Grochow.
I'm sorry, but we don't know any Cynk.
He got snatched.
Some punks in ski-masks.
In a BMW X5.
Cool.
You're saying he pushed in Grochow?
Grochow is ours.
Mokotow, Powisle and Goclaw are yours.
Wola, Ochota and Zoliborz are ours.
Grochow 50/50.
You fucked our man.
- Is that a problem?
- What if it is?
Then you've got a fucking problem.
And you're a punk yourself.
Easy, easy, easy...
We're having fun today, right?
Today we are.
OK, fuck it!
Ten for the face,
ten for the boobs,
nine for the ass.
He's here.
Now?
Let the kid have ice-cream.
What is it?
This ice-cream is strange.
They're not sweet.
Because it's a sorbet.
You ordered it.
Just like mummy.
Now I want like daddy.
Here.
You're spoiling her.
- Who am I to spoil if not my princess?
- Perhaps me.
You don't feel spoiled enough?
The child is listening.
Now.
Start the car.
I'm going to powder my nose.
- And wash your hands.
- OK.
Powder my nose. What a fucking princess.
Thank you.
- For what?
- For protecting her from all this.
- I'm the father, right?
- You're a very good father.
- What the fuck is this?
- Don't fucking know?
Not in front of the kid!
Daddy!
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,
in hope of resurrection by
the Lord on Judgement Day.
Rest in peace.
Peace be with you, brother.
Hang tight.
We'll get them.
Now we're going to dance.
Fuck, not here and not now.
Cameras and cops everywhere.
- So why are they here?
- They've got a wreath.
- Tough mother fucker, I'll kill him.
- Not here, not now.
Yo, Padrino.
Say hello to your wife.
Tell her to wash more often cos
the boys are complaining.
Fuck. A week ago we went to
Lazienki Park with his daughter.
A week ago.
What about her?
When she turns 18, she'll get
the flat after Zaba,
till then she'll be getting
two thousand a month from Padrino.
That's not much.
I'll chip in two grand myself.
One thousand.
A thousand from me.
I fucking told him to be frosty.
I told him.
He was...
Was and he's gone.
So we've got it done. We'll hit Ostry.
One of our men who pushes coke
deals with this broad from Odloty.
He fucked her once, and she said that
Ostry screws her often.
Nice one?
Just a cunt.
A bait. I've set up a few boys
to check her out.
Padrino said to cool down.
Due respect Padrino, but I'm going along
with the fucking whore.
Or I could do it.
No.
Zaba gave me a heater first.
I almost shot a whole round
into the fucking tree.
You know what he said to me?
I'll make a Polish Jackal out of you.
That's what he said.
And he fucking laughed.
Oh, how he laughed.
Blood for blood.
Blood for blood.
But use the fucking head.
And?
Did you talk to the Chief?
It's Sunday, he's wasted as fuck.
So?
So he told me to fuck off.
Did you talk to the boys?
Fuck.
I didn't, I don't want to set them up.
Sorry. Fuck, there's only one way out.
Let's get the fuck out!
Nah, we can do it!
I'm afraid we'll get fucking sacked
from this job, really.
This is our job, right?
I'm getting the fuck out.
If you want, come with me.
I'm staying.
Fucking OK then... good luck.
Daniel.
What?
You're a pussy, right?
- Good morning.
- Good morning. What do you want?
- Where's that World Cup?
- Here.
Hi.
Konarska speaking. I want to report,
that 20 wanted criminals
are sitting in the hall of the
Wosniki Cultural Centre.
Bring whoever you can,
even the whole cavalry,
we'll lock them all up.
Listen, man! Twenty wanted crooks
in one place, understand?
I'm alone with them, get it?
Move your ass and get over here
or I'm dead meat, right?
Good morning!
Welcome all of the winners.
My name is Angelika Konopnicka
and I'll be your company.
Of course, as a guide during the trip
to the World Cup final match in Russia
on the Moscow Luzhniki Stadium.
So, to get to know each other better,
I suggest a short game.
Who's that?
Zabivaka.
Bravo, yes!
This is Zabivaka the Wolf, mascot
of the Russian World Cup.
Now, all together.
Who is this?
Zabivaka.
- I can't hear you, who?
- Zabivaka!
Bravo.
OK, so...
we all know each other better now,
let's do the paperwork.
Since the invitations are personal,
I need you to show me your IDs.
You!
I know you!
- You cuffed me up by the liqueur store.
- Nah, you're joking.
- Guys, this is a whore from the police!
- What about the Cup?
What now, cunt?
Are you fucking nuts?
Everyone down on the ground
with your IDs in sight.
Down!
Everybody down!
You can't fucking knock
us all down, bitch!
Maybe not all but you for sure.
Let's get the slut!
Stop! Stop or I'll shoot!
Move!
I need back-up!
Which code?
Fucking all of them!
On the ground!
Mrs Helena, you deserve a medal.
Thank you, but I'm not cleaning this up.
Firearm and badge.
Under Article 48 of the Law
on Means of Coercive Measures
and the Use of Firearms,
according to which an officer
must first identify himself by...
...direct threat to the life or health
of an officer or another person.
There was no threat.
That's the testimony of twenty people.
None of them had bad intentions.
At least one of them was armed.
Search the school. I'm sure
they hid her somewhere.
You're screwed, Konarska.
You know why?
Because it's our community,
our little motherland.
We don't like your kind here.
What kind?
A whore mother won't raise a good cop.
Get the fuck out.
Bela!
Let me take this.
It's all fucked up, isn't it?
It must be a fucking deal.
Even if I tried to do something,
it wouldn't fucking work.
I'd just be fucking sacked.
Get it?
I get it.
But you're still a pussy.
Right?
- How do you imagine that?
- Shush..., Bartek's asleep.
Now you remember you have a kid?
Why didn't you earlier?
- We'll manage.
- Sure!
I'll file an appeal.
- Come on, hug me.
- You won't appeal.
Stop it!
You can't file an appeal.
- Why not, they sacked me. I'll file...
- One of us must have a job.
- You have a job at the school.
- Exactly.
- You think you'll lose it cos of me?
- Don't provoke it.
Don't provoke, keep it low,
hide your ass, take a bow.
- Just like everyone.
- Really? Are you like everyone?
You used to be different.
I'm going to sleep with Bartek.
- What is it?
- How's your wife?
- That's not your business.
- Yes, it is.
Get the fuck off my car.
Fucking get it? Or I'll call the police.
- Go ahead.
- I will.
Go on. We're just talking.
But watch out, rust never sleeps, right?
- Are you threatening me, Missy?
- Yes.
Have a nice day.
- Hello?
- Sergeant Izabela Konarska?
Yes, who's speaking?
I'm calling from the
Internal Security Agency.
Yeah, maybe the Gestapo?
I hear that you've passed your physical
in one minute and eighteen
point zero four seconds.
Fifty four points.
So what?
So, I want to meet you.
In Warsaw, on Rakowiecka Street.
- Good morning.
- Good morning. Your bag please.
Waffle?
Thanks, I might black out.
It's hard to stop smoking.
So, what do you want from me?
What do you want?
If you want to go home,
to your husband and kid,
then drink your coffee and leave.
Oh.
You know a lot about me.
You've pulled a slick trick with those
World Cup tickets.
We're impressed.
We'd give you a reward.
Wanna play with us?
I could give it a try.
From a cop's dictionary.
Do you know who a UCO is?
Sure. An Undercover Police Officer.
Special operations are in the S.O.
department here.
I need operators who'll sink
into the criminal environment.
Who think outside the scheme. Who are
not afraid to risk and act in stress.
A full-fucking-time job.
Wanna take part in recruitment?
I don't know, I want to sleep on it.
Sure. You've got one minute.
I won't fall asleep in a minute.
You see, Izus.
An operator sometimes has one second
to decide: life or death.
But chill out, you've got time.
30 seconds.
Just like in American movies, right?
I choose life.
DIRECTOR
EXECUTIVE PRODUCER
SCRIPT
PRODUCTION MANAGER
II UNIT DIRECTORS
CAMERAS
MUSIC
EDITOR
STARRING
ALSO APPEARING
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STARRING
MUSIC / EDITOR
CAMERAS / PRODUCTION MANAGER
EXECUTIVE PRODUCER / SCRIPT
DIRECTOR
MAFIA WOMEN
EPISODE 1
They were crossing the tracks.
I was braking.
He got ran over, she got
her legs cut off.
Now she's trying to fit his head
back to the corpse.
Please don't move, we'll get your feet.
Get a clamp for the legs.
We gotta secure her
till the ambo gets here.
Lady...
Don't move.
Guys, the patient's dismembered
on over 100 meters.
His skin's spread on the fucking tracks,
guts caught in the wheels,
a shitload of work,
wanna grab a bag and help us out?
Fucking hell...
Yeah, we will.
Thanks.
OK, done.
Good morning.
Good morning, Mr Prosecutor.
So, where's the corpse?
In here. Two hours of picking up
the pieces.
Put him back where you found him.
The techs secured the traces.
Put him back as he was! I'm gonna
run an investigation.
OK.
This was here...
Hey, where was this?
And it'd better be the last time!
I don't know what papers,
it's my first divorce.
Konarska. Results won't come
by themselves.
Stop knocking your balls against
the fucking vending machine.
Get in my fucking office.
Pants on, and you're off to the forest.
Your job for today is catching
a dangerous mobster.
He specializes in VAT scams,
graft and homicide.
Chief... Prevention vs a mobster...
where's the crime department?
Konarska, superior's orders
are indisputable.
You'll go to the ponds in Dzierzaznia
to meet a Central Anti-Corruption Bureau
officer
who will give you the details
of the operation.
Any questions?
Get the fuck out.
Colleagues!
Today we're gonna cuff a thug.
All thugs love football.
There's gonna be a game nearby
where our mobster is on the team.
So that's why you called prevention.
What's the plan?
The plan is, that you run into the game,
and cuff the thug.
Maybe during half-time?
The fans won't notice
and leave the stands.
Hello?
Hi, uncle.
Listen,
the problem is, that when we run
into the game,
the fans may start chasing us.
There's an idea that maybe we can
cuff him during half-time?
OK.
Men!
Change of plans.
Cuff him during the break.
What player number is our mobster?
Hi, uncle. It's me again.
What player number does he have?
OK.
Number 11.
What if the players swap shirts
during the break?
Can you come here for a minute?
Listen,
I'm too young for this job. I've seen
kick-ball on TV and I don't like it.
I've worked the streets for half a year,
got into the CAB,
cos my uncle's the chief
and I'm fed up with this operation,
cos nothing's going right.
We're gonna make it, right?
I'll help you.
Hello?
Men!
Retreat!
Go back to the unit.
The game was yesterday.
The Juniors are playing today.
Look! See that? See that guy?
That's the Trumpeter.
Stop the car, he's wasted like shit!
- Come on, our watch ends soon.
- But that's not right!
- How long've you been a cop?
- Six months.
Nine years here. I know this wino.
He lives 200 meters from here.
Look... now some kinda whore.
A bit of respect! You know her?
Jeez...
Excuse me!
Hello.
Do you need help?
Do you need help?
No, thank you.
Do you have an ID?
I didn't do anything.
Do you have a name?
Wait up...
Are you in trouble?
Did anything bad happen?
No, really, nothing.
Someone hurt you!
No, it was me.
We'll give you a ride.
- No.
- Daniel, help the lady.
Come with us. You're not safe here.
You can tell us on the way.
I can't, I must buy flowers.
What flowers?
Seven roses.
The decision is yours.
Think about yourself.
I can't.
Just in case, you have my number.
Thank you. I'm sorry.
- Do you smoke?
- Are you kidding?
Me neither.
Back to the plant?
No.
So what do you want to do here?
Fucking twat, where're the damn flowers?
Let's file a domestic abuse
report on the guy.
Tell me, where are the fucking roses?
Where the fuck did I send you?
Fucking shit!
I told you once.
I told you once, you cunt, and you don't
fucking respect what I do!
That I buy you flowers!
Others would fucking...
fucking blow me since dawn
for this, get it?
Fucking slut!
What are you thinking?
That you have a fucking life of your
own? To fucking work and back?
Heh? Shut up, or I'll fucking whack you,
get it?
I'll whack your face so hard...
I'll whack you, get it?
Just try to raise your fucking voice!
Try it!
Try to fucking squeak, do it!
- Take your hands off your wife!
- What the fuck is this?
- ID!
- Cos?
You're disturbing curfew.
What fucking curfew? It's daylight!
Check if there's anyone else
in the house.
Are you all right?
I gotta make a fucking call.
Go to the bathroom, get cleaned up.
Can you do it?
- Fuck!
- Who're you calling, champ?
Your fucking chief! You can start
looking for a job, cunt!
Who insults an officer
during the performance of duty
is subject to a fine, imprisonment
or jail for up to one year.
Very funny. Up yours, cunt!
You know who I am?
You're two time lucky.
Yeah? Up... yours... cunt!
Fuck!
On the ground!
Shut up.
Shit. You'll damage the vehicle.
It's a tank, not a car,
and that's the death chamber.
He can fly in there, take a piss,
vomit...
It's not my fault the road is so bumpy.
Oh, fuck...
Boy, I love this car!
Piskorski - drugs. Borejuk - a fence.
Matusiak - assault and robbery.
Baginski - drugs. Wnuk - fled from jail.
Marciniak - robbery.
You know what the fuck this is?
This is your fucking job.
And this? What the fuck is this?
This is disturbance of the night curfew,
Chief, assault on an officer
and offending a policeman.
Did you see this?
Yes or no?
Well, kinda...
But you signed it!
OK, your mate gets the fuck out,
you stay.
Are you out of your fucking mind?
The council chairman, supporting
local business!
Couldn't you detain someone else?
- He had almost 1.5‰ of alcohol level.
- I sometimes drink at home too!
And you beat your wife?
I'm fucking sacking you.
Chief, for what?
Article 42.
For the good of duty.
OK, I won't fucking sack you
for Article 42.
You'll wanna leave yourself.
Get the fuck out.
- You're still here?
- No, I'm not.
A policeman - your fucking
guardian angel?
Yup.
Chief's revenge.
I'm sending it out to people.
They write back what they think
about the precinct,
what could be changed,
and drop it in a box.
They'll dump it in the fucking bin!
A metalwork plate with a personal
dedication of the Chief Commander,
annual subscription to the "Police 997"
monthly. We've got prizes.
Oh fuck... bullshit, not prizes.
A McDonald's coupon, a ticket to a game
but fucking this?
He's fucking nuts. Big time.
- What game?
- What do you mean, what game?
"Poland are the champions!!!"
This game.
In he goes!
In she went.
Chief, this is for you.
Luzhniki Stadium?
Moscow?
Invitation to the World Cup final.
Where did you get it?
I won it in the FIFA lottery.
All the details are in the letter.
This is bribery.
You think, that if you give me this,
I won't fucking sack you?
You think fucking right!
World Cup!
The flight,
the hotel!
The Waldorf-Astoria.
It's all bullshit, Chief.
The hotel's not included?
All is bullshit, Chief. I wrote
and printed it myself.
You?
Yeah, me.
You.
What the fuck for?
Everyone loves football.
We'll send these invites to home
addresses of all wanted criminals,
and they'll all arrive in one place
at the same time
and we'll cuff them all in one move.
World Cup! Russia! The final!
You wouldn't go?
You know, Konarska?
I have an ambivalent feeling about you.
Which means?
Which means that I don't like you.
Get the fuck out.
Again.
Can you smell it?
The scent of a forest.
The forest breathes.
Just think...
how it's all fucking made up...
like the tree.
It inhales the stink...
and exhales oxygen.
Shit!
Arkadiusz...
hurry up a bit.
Fuck it. I ain't digging.
There's an unexploded bomb here.
Don't bullshit us, Arus!
So what the fuck is this?
It's called a dud.
Did you ever shoot at a dud?
Come on, this is business, not fun.
Arus...
you will go to your friends
from Zoliborz
and tell them that from now on,
from every point in Grochow,
we want a 50% share. Get it?
I'm saying nothing. I don't give a shit
about you and neither do they.
- I'll finish him.
- Padrino said not to fucking kill him.
I'll shoot the dud, and we'll say
he was a military freak.
Great.
He died from a ricochet.
Vicious bastard.
Eight for the face...
seven for the butt...
six for the boobs.
Those are some fucked up melons.
They got them by nature.
From giving fucking head.
You know why she's got no hair
on the beaver?
OK, shoot.
Grass doesn't grow on motorways.
- What, you didn't fucking get it?
- I should've taken that dud.
I'd shove it up her.
Fuck off, perv.
Guys, I'm fucking leaving.
Fuck it, we'll spill some ice
and you'll have a sniff.
Zaba, coke's unhealthy.
Take it easy on yourself.
So, cheers!
Cheers.
What's up?
Easy.
Good evening.
- You came here to pick up chicks?
- I'm looking for Cynk.
Do we know a Cynk?
He pushed crack for me in Grochow.
I'm sorry, but we don't know any Cynk.
He got snatched.
Some punks in ski-masks.
In a BMW X5.
Cool.
You're saying he pushed in Grochow?
Grochow is ours.
Mokotow, Powisle and Goclaw are yours.
Wola, Ochota and Zoliborz are ours.
Grochow 50/50.
You fucked our man.
- Is that a problem?
- What if it is?
Then you've got a fucking problem.
And you're a punk yourself.
Easy, easy, easy...
We're having fun today, right?
Today we are.
OK, fuck it!
Ten for the face,
ten for the boobs,
nine for the ass.
He's here.
Now?
Let the kid have ice-cream.
What is it?
This ice-cream is strange.
They're not sweet.
Because it's a sorbet.
You ordered it.
Just like mummy.
Now I want like daddy.
Here.
You're spoiling her.
- Who am I to spoil if not my princess?
- Perhaps me.
You don't feel spoiled enough?
The child is listening.
Now.
Start the car.
I'm going to powder my nose.
- And wash your hands.
- OK.
Powder my nose. What a fucking princess.
Thank you.
- For what?
- For protecting her from all this.
- I'm the father, right?
- You're a very good father.
- What the fuck is this?
- Don't fucking know?
Not in front of the kid!
Daddy!
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,
in hope of resurrection by
the Lord on Judgement Day.
Rest in peace.
Peace be with you, brother.
Hang tight.
We'll get them.
Now we're going to dance.
Fuck, not here and not now.
Cameras and cops everywhere.
- So why are they here?
- They've got a wreath.
- Tough mother fucker, I'll kill him.
- Not here, not now.
Yo, Padrino.
Say hello to your wife.
Tell her to wash more often cos
the boys are complaining.
Fuck. A week ago we went to
Lazienki Park with his daughter.
A week ago.
What about her?
When she turns 18, she'll get
the flat after Zaba,
till then she'll be getting
two thousand a month from Padrino.
That's not much.
I'll chip in two grand myself.
One thousand.
A thousand from me.
I fucking told him to be frosty.
I told him.
He was...
Was and he's gone.
So we've got it done. We'll hit Ostry.
One of our men who pushes coke
deals with this broad from Odloty.
He fucked her once, and she said that
Ostry screws her often.
Nice one?
Just a cunt.
A bait. I've set up a few boys
to check her out.
Padrino said to cool down.
Due respect Padrino, but I'm going along
with the fucking whore.
Or I could do it.
No.
Zaba gave me a heater first.
I almost shot a whole round
into the fucking tree.
You know what he said to me?
I'll make a Polish Jackal out of you.
That's what he said.
And he fucking laughed.
Oh, how he laughed.
Blood for blood.
Blood for blood.
But use the fucking head.
And?
Did you talk to the Chief?
It's Sunday, he's wasted as fuck.
So?
So he told me to fuck off.
Did you talk to the boys?
Fuck.
I didn't, I don't want to set them up.
Sorry. Fuck, there's only one way out.
Let's get the fuck out!
Nah, we can do it!
I'm afraid we'll get fucking sacked
from this job, really.
This is our job, right?
I'm getting the fuck out.
If you want, come with me.
I'm staying.
Fucking OK then... good luck.
Daniel.
What?
You're a pussy, right?
- Good morning.
- Good morning. What do you want?
- Where's that World Cup?
- Here.
Hi.
Konarska speaking. I want to report,
that 20 wanted criminals
are sitting in the hall of the
Wosniki Cultural Centre.
Bring whoever you can,
even the whole cavalry,
we'll lock them all up.
Listen, man! Twenty wanted crooks
in one place, understand?
I'm alone with them, get it?
Move your ass and get over here
or I'm dead meat, right?
Good morning!
Welcome all of the winners.
My name is Angelika Konopnicka
and I'll be your company.
Of course, as a guide during the trip
to the World Cup final match in Russia
on the Moscow Luzhniki Stadium.
So, to get to know each other better,
I suggest a short game.
Who's that?
Zabivaka.
Bravo, yes!
This is Zabivaka the Wolf, mascot
of the Russian World Cup.
Now, all together.
Who is this?
Zabivaka.
- I can't hear you, who?
- Zabivaka!
Bravo.
OK, so...
we all know each other better now,
let's do the paperwork.
Since the invitations are personal,
I need you to show me your IDs.
You!
I know you!
- You cuffed me up by the liqueur store.
- Nah, you're joking.
- Guys, this is a whore from the police!
- What about the Cup?
What now, cunt?
Are you fucking nuts?
Everyone down on the ground
with your IDs in sight.
Down!
Everybody down!
You can't fucking knock
us all down, bitch!
Maybe not all but you for sure.
Let's get the slut!
Stop! Stop or I'll shoot!
Move!
I need back-up!
Which code?
Fucking all of them!
On the ground!
Mrs Helena, you deserve a medal.
Thank you, but I'm not cleaning this up.
Firearm and badge.
Under Article 48 of the Law
on Means of Coercive Measures
and the Use of Firearms,
according to which an officer
must first identify himself by...
...direct threat to the life or health
of an officer or another person.
There was no threat.
That's the testimony of twenty people.
None of them had bad intentions.
At least one of them was armed.
Search the school. I'm sure
they hid her somewhere.
You're screwed, Konarska.
You know why?
Because it's our community,
our little motherland.
We don't like your kind here.
What kind?
A whore mother won't raise a good cop.
Get the fuck out.
Bela!
Let me take this.
It's all fucked up, isn't it?
It must be a fucking deal.
Even if I tried to do something,
it wouldn't fucking work.
I'd just be fucking sacked.
Get it?
I get it.
But you're still a pussy.
Right?
- How do you imagine that?
- Shush..., Bartek's asleep.
Now you remember you have a kid?
Why didn't you earlier?
- We'll manage.
- Sure!
I'll file an appeal.
- Come on, hug me.
- You won't appeal.
Stop it!
You can't file an appeal.
- Why not, they sacked me. I'll file...
- One of us must have a job.
- You have a job at the school.
- Exactly.
- You think you'll lose it cos of me?
- Don't provoke it.
Don't provoke, keep it low,
hide your ass, take a bow.
- Just like everyone.
- Really? Are you like everyone?
You used to be different.
I'm going to sleep with Bartek.
- What is it?
- How's your wife?
- That's not your business.
- Yes, it is.
Get the fuck off my car.
Fucking get it? Or I'll call the police.
- Go ahead.
- I will.
Go on. We're just talking.
But watch out, rust never sleeps, right?
- Are you threatening me, Missy?
- Yes.
Have a nice day.
- Hello?
- Sergeant Izabela Konarska?
Yes, who's speaking?
I'm calling from the
Internal Security Agency.
Yeah, maybe the Gestapo?
I hear that you've passed your physical
in one minute and eighteen
point zero four seconds.
Fifty four points.
So what?
So, I want to meet you.
In Warsaw, on Rakowiecka Street.
- Good morning.
- Good morning. Your bag please.
Waffle?
Thanks, I might black out.
It's hard to stop smoking.
So, what do you want from me?
What do you want?
If you want to go home,
to your husband and kid,
then drink your coffee and leave.
Oh.
You know a lot about me.
You've pulled a slick trick with those
World Cup tickets.
We're impressed.
We'd give you a reward.
Wanna play with us?
I could give it a try.
From a cop's dictionary.
Do you know who a UCO is?
Sure. An Undercover Police Officer.
Special operations are in the S.O.
department here.
I need operators who'll sink
into the criminal environment.
Who think outside the scheme. Who are
not afraid to risk and act in stress.
A full-fucking-time job.
Wanna take part in recruitment?
I don't know, I want to sleep on it.
Sure. You've got one minute.
I won't fall asleep in a minute.
You see, Izus.
An operator sometimes has one second
to decide: life or death.
But chill out, you've got time.
30 seconds.
Just like in American movies, right?
I choose life.
DIRECTOR
EXECUTIVE PRODUCER
SCRIPT
PRODUCTION MANAGER
II UNIT DIRECTORS
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