Mocro Maffia (2018–…): Season 1, Episode 4 - Vijanden - full transcript
Mattijs Harderwijk?
- Yes, sir.
Sir? Well, maybe I should be
calling you sir.
The last time an intern
got on the front page was in 1982.
The 29th of January to be exact.
And coincidently...
that was me.
I would frame it if I were you. I don't
suppose you did it all by yourself.
"Lethal feud in underworld"
The Pope.
Once he went into business
on his own...
he developed into
a serious rival to Romano.
Taxi is The Pope's left hand man.
He does distribution.
32 years old, a family, 2 daughters.
And that is his Achilles heel, you know.
Hello. Yes, that's good. How long?
Half an hour is fine.
His right hand man is Tatta. Kamper.
He does the street.
There's 10 grams going to
a satisfied customer. Piece of cake.
It's harder to wipe your own arse.
After Tamara's death,
family is no longer sacred.
And Taxi knows that all too well.
Taxi is shitting himself.
And rightly so.
Can I get your mother's number.
Skanky slut.
Don't be sneaky, you big poof.
Community policing
and youth workers fail.
But The Pope knows exactly
where to find these no-hopers.
Instigator of the war in which
he became the main target.
You'd think someone like that would run.
Lay low for a while.
But not The Pope.
He's got a business to run.
And a war to fight.
There are some exceptions to the rule.
Moshin Kaddouri. Alias Mo the Show.
He had his eye on a different career.
But pretty soon after the war broke out,
nobody was spared.
Not even their pet cousin.
Excuse me, I have to go to the toilet.
What's going on?
Yeah, it's me.
Can you come round?
Studio 6, Amsterdam.
No, just one.
And, what now?
Satisfied?
Off you go. I'm not at school.
I'm working.
Haven't heard from you in a while.
- Yeah, here.
Great.
-It's going well, isn't it?
Bro, what the fuck.
Who you dealing for?
Romano. Romano.
I'm dealing for Romano.
Romano's in jail.
Sorry, Adil. Adil from Arnhem,
the kickboxer.
He's the boss now.
Password?
Your mother.
Hey, he's right.
Is that scumbag Turk your supplier?
-Yes. Yes.
What's the second password?
isaskankyslut
That's right.
Mate, throw in an extra packet.
Need it right now.
No, no, no.
Are you running for the bus?
No, you're not.
Just take it nice and slow.
Where are you?
Uilenstede!
Open your mouth wider.
What the fuck are you doing here?
Get lost.
One scratch on that car
and I'll rip you apart.
I'll have a Coke.
Tattoos are mark of insecurity.
-Really?
You could say the same
about your make up.
What the fuck you doing?
Smiling?
-Do we know each other then?
What are you doing talking to my girl?
-Don't mind him. He's bullshitting.
You this one, bro.
I'm fucking a whore!
Tell Adil I'm on my way.
Adil? Did he say Adil?
I'm looking for him. He's my cousin.
Old school fucking retards.
They're just prancing around
like ballerinas.
Hey, Adil. what if you hadn't stopped?
What if? What if?
If my father was king of Morocco,
I'd be a prince.
You mean Prince Zbel.
Hey, didn't you knock
this guy out in a tournament?
He was unconscious for 45 seconds.
I'm going out for chow.
Want some?
Adil, I didn't know you had
a handsome cousin with tattoos.
He's upstairs.
I'll go.
-Wait here.
Bloody hell. When were you last
in your old neighbourhood?
Must be 10 years ago.
What have you been doing?
You still can't say your alphabet I see.
-It impresses the chicks.
Mad fucker.
-Oh yeah.
How's my auntie?
-You know my mum. She doesn't change.
Still making sure the boys go to school.
Instead of hanging out on the street
all the time.
Fancy a shisha pipe?
If I wanted a cold sore
I'd go down on a heroin whore.
How's it going with the DJing?
Like Martin Garrix yet?
Still appearing in the AIR?
-No, man.
I play techno, you know.
It's going well. Yeah, just fine.
Have you traded sport in
for the snack bar?
I may have a paunch,
but I can still knock your teeth out.
My brother hangs with you.
Why do you let my brother deal?
I don't want him around you,
or dealing for you.
He's still at school,
he hasn't got a record. Leave him alone.
Leave him alone?
-It's no good for him.
Fine, I'll leave Mouse alone...
if you can name the last three jobs
he applied for.
Forget it.
His last application, where was that?
When's the last time
you saw your brother?
Well, cousin?
After my mother's funeral.
Exactly. We take care of everything
he lacks at home.
Or at least, I did.
Where were you when he needed you?
He was there for you.
What kind of example are you?
You just listen to me...
next time you come in here and talk
to me like that, I'll beat you to pulp.
We're his family now.
You gave up that right when you left
the neighbourhood. Understand?
Now, get the hell out.
Where are you?
It's fucking freezing.
SLEEPING PILLS
Ladies and gentlemen, we commence
proceedings against Mr. Tevreden.
The neighbour's keeping an eye out.
She'll be fast asleep till 7.
You are Romano Te Vreden.
Tevreden.
Excuse me?
-The emphasis is wrong.
My name is Tevreden.
You said Te Vreden.
He's happy, your honour.
-Silence.
That's just splitting hairs.
You are Romano Tevreden.
You were born on 25 November 1980,
in Amsterdam.
Where the fuck is Pencil?
Did you reach him?
Fuck. Fuck.
Hey, hey, take it easy.
Let him go.
That's exactly what The Pope wants.
Don't let him get to you.
On my mother's life,
if they lay a finger on Belgian...
it'll be jihad on all their mothers.
I need to know what
that fucker is planning.
They're going to off Belgian.
Fuck.
Mouse, go to Osdorp. Hang about,
look around you, ask questions.
They must have him there somewhere.
Be discreet.
And you, get to work.
Text Slick.
Maybe Pencil's at the sitting.
You stay here.
Hey.
How you doing, chief?
Last chance.
Where do you keep the stash?
Well?
-Go fuck yourself.
Think of your mother.
Oh, give me strength.
Adil, give me that thing here.
You don't want to talk?
Unlawfully robbing someone
of their freedom...
and keeping them hostage, blackmail...
accessory in kidnap of
Mr and Mrs Meeuwissen...
aggravated assault, intimidation...
theft of money, jewellery and watches...
valued at a total of 345,000 euros.
Moreover, the suspect attempted
to escape arrest...
and therefore put himself, his daughter...
and others on the road,
in serious danger.
Driving down
the Postjesweg in Amsterdam...
he further caused major destruction
of public property.
Concerning the claim
by the aggrieved parties...
I request that the admissible claim
be declared in this case.
The claim is not sufficient...
-Don't look up right away.
Based on these facts...
-8 o'clock.
...in the dossier, the public prosecutor
is of the opinion...
that Mr Tevreden poses
a very real threat...
to the public and
is held legally responsible.
Mister, have you see in a boy
in a red jacket?
No, man.
Hey, didn't you write 'De neus'?
Dude, it's the only book I've ever read.
What you doing here?
Researching a new book?
Yeah, I'm writing a new book.
I'd like to talk to one of you lot.
You lot?
What do you mean, you lot?
You've got a call, John van de Heuvel.
Yes?
Shit, in which hospital?
Is she asleep?
Okay, I'll come as quick as I can.
Good. Okay, bye, bye.
Seven fucking years.
They go for the maximum, obviously.
I call it ridiculous. That's how it works.
But they claim to have a lot of evidence.
That should worry you.
So what has changed now?
What do you mean?
-You said it would all be fine.
So what's going on now?
Nothing new has been said today.
We knew all this already.
We'll go through it step by step.
I'll do my very best for you.
I promise you that.
Daddy.
Dad.
We need to talk.
About Youseff.
Son...
what happened to you?
Fuck.
Goddammit.
A beer.
Fuck. Are you going to talk or not?
I'm going to beat you to pulp.
I'll beat the shit out of you.
One more of the same, please.
Isn't that too dodgy?
Business must carry on.
I'm not doing any more, bro.
Don't talk stupid.
I'm not touching that money.
Now is the wrong time.
Just put in the stash.
Adil, Ibahesh came knocking on my door.
It's too dodgy. I won't touch it
I have to go, bro.
Of course you do, matey.
I've booked you 3 weeks in Dubai.
Get some sun, chill out. Why not?
I just don't get it.
Who's going to arrange her funeral?
-Her family.
They don't want to see me anymore.
I understand that.
-Fuck that.
Call me if you need anything.
It's my fault Tamara...
-Don't.
Why is The Pope still alive?
Because those nutters couldn't shoot.
Did you pay him?
-No cure, no pay.
It was Romano's call, bro.
Cure?
As if it was going to heal something.
What would Romano do?
He'd listen to your advice.
So...
What would you do?
The Pope has problems
with you and Romano.
It's not my war, bro.
You tell me.
Yo.
Are you sure it's Adil?
-Yeah.
Wipe the photo, yeah?
-Yes.
This is good stuff.
Feel it.
Your size.
Not in the shops till next year.
Versace label on the inside.
Get the pants done at the Turkish tailor,
and that's you sorted.
Excuse me. One moment please.
Belgian cousin
Merchandise on the way
Antwerp. We're in business.
Great stuff.
I want to try this on.
-Sure.
The sheen is good. I can see that.
I've got and eye for that stuff.
-I can see that.
Look, style in motion. Truly.
The shoulders fit. Tatta...
This one with the stripes, or the taupe?
No, this one's much better.
It's good, isn't it?
-Yes.
I'll take this one, and um...
The one at the end.
Don't you want a cummerbund
to go with it?
I've got them in purple and black.
-A sodding cummerbund?
There are thousands of ways
of disposing of a body.
But it's always problematic.
On Sicily,
the favoured method is concrete.
The bodies are set in concrete...
disappearing in
the motorway foundations.
The Camorra have clean-up crews...
to get rid of the bodies. They
make mass graves under rubbish tips.
In Amsterdam-West,
they're still working it out.
Inspired by films,
they think up the wildest schemes.
That's probably what happened.
We'll never really know.
Laabri Hmida, alias Belgian,
will never be found.
Well, I don't go on about
you smoking joints, do I?
Thank you for helping.
Struwwelpeter.
I'm so sorry.
Sorry.
I went to court.
I thought there was enough time.
I'm sorry.
I'll stop altogether.
I don't want this to happen again.
Beer?
Are you in pain?
No.
It's okay.
Listen, you're pissed off
you left her alone. I get it.
We just got going.
Where's your journalist soul...
Shut up.
I just wanted to say...
-I know what you want to say, I'm not an idiot.
I don't want it anymore.
-So we just get into it, and you quit?
Yes, that's the way it is.
What if I've got the perfect source?
What do you mean?
-What I say.
Are you in then?
No, man. I'm sorry.
Some things are more important
than Mocros with a business plan.
Fancy a beer?
Non-alcoholic, no doubt.
Disgusting.
Good afternoon, sir.
Your neighbours called.
There seems to be a problem
with the drainage.
What drainage?
-It's a problem with the water.
We can check it
and save you a lot of trouble.
Yes? That's awesome.
Hello, how are you doing?
(singing in foreign language)
Beautiful.
Really, you look beautiful.
Lethal feud in underworld.
And now I want to go in-depth.
I want to get the inside story.
Not just observations.
From you guys' perspective.
This perspective.
You have to understand, if you get it wrong,
you're a long way from home.
Exactly. I don't want that.
Why can't you tell me everything?
Your early youth, the street, your friends.
There was this geezer 10 years ago.
I'm not going to name him,
but let's call him Pizza.
The Pope?
-No, Pizza.
Who's telling the story?
Pizza was a typical Mocro.
Irritating, worked up,
and he kept hitting brick walls.
Social services couldn't handle him,
or the police.
He was only interested in drugs
and making money. Cash.
A friend gave him a pile of DVDs
of an Italian TV series.
Corleone, a true story about Toto Rina.
A marginal Mafioso
who became the capo...
by getting rid of all the opposition.
I swear, the series was a hit
in Amsterdam-West.
And that series inspired us all.
We wanted the same thing
And that's what we got.
Well, Pizza recognized
that was his future.
The biggest criminals grew up
without a father.
They learnt at a young age,
to avoid getting picked on.
The ones with abusive fathers
didn't know any different.
No regrets, that was it.
I swear, if you want to understand us
you should check out the series.
Test, test, one, two.
Hello, everyone.
Welcome, brothers, on this blessed day.
Did you enjoy your meal?
Praise to Allah.
I'm full up.
While your dinner goes down...
I'll pose questions on Islam.
And I'm curious about your knowledge.
The first question is actually
for our host.
The man who's finally taken the step,
and is giving this engagement party.
Who are the angels
who question us in the grave?
Are they A: Jibril and Azrael
B: Israfil and Mikail
C: Munkar and Nakir
or D: Harut and Marut?
C.
-Answer C is correct.
Rematch for the young man
who just got engaged.
Oh, okay. What is Tahoet?
Everything that's offered,
followed..
or obeyed, other than Allah, is a Tahoet.
Correct. Let's hear some applause.
And who are the leaders of Tahoet?
Satan, may Allah curse him.
A person who is honoured,
and he's comfortable with that.
Someone who calls others to
pray to him, instead of Allah.
A person who claims to know
what the unseen is.
A master who rules with other laws...
than the law sent down to him by Allah.
They are the leaders of Tahoet.
That is the basis of good leadership.
Didn't the prophet speak to
Abdur-Rahman?
May Allah smile on him.
'Abdur-Rahman,
don't ask for leadership.
When this is given to you
because you asked...
you will be left to your own devices.
Handy man: Done. Mistral is gone.
Adils car was there. Congrats.
...you will be aided and abetted.
And always follow a bad deed
with a good deed.
Which cancels out the bad deed.
And always treat people well.'
Thank you. Thank you.
And now, I give you our host.
Thank you again.
Excuse me, I've got something to say.
I want to thank you all for coming.
You've had food and drink.
Now it's time to go home,
the party is over.
Take your wives and children home,
because there's nothing left.
I have a present for you.
A small present.
There's a little book on
the table by the door.
The book is called
'The Noble Life of the Prophet'.
Brothers, I want to tell you something.
What's in this book is the absolute truth.
Take one, if you like.
- Yes, sir.
Sir? Well, maybe I should be
calling you sir.
The last time an intern
got on the front page was in 1982.
The 29th of January to be exact.
And coincidently...
that was me.
I would frame it if I were you. I don't
suppose you did it all by yourself.
"Lethal feud in underworld"
The Pope.
Once he went into business
on his own...
he developed into
a serious rival to Romano.
Taxi is The Pope's left hand man.
He does distribution.
32 years old, a family, 2 daughters.
And that is his Achilles heel, you know.
Hello. Yes, that's good. How long?
Half an hour is fine.
His right hand man is Tatta. Kamper.
He does the street.
There's 10 grams going to
a satisfied customer. Piece of cake.
It's harder to wipe your own arse.
After Tamara's death,
family is no longer sacred.
And Taxi knows that all too well.
Taxi is shitting himself.
And rightly so.
Can I get your mother's number.
Skanky slut.
Don't be sneaky, you big poof.
Community policing
and youth workers fail.
But The Pope knows exactly
where to find these no-hopers.
Instigator of the war in which
he became the main target.
You'd think someone like that would run.
Lay low for a while.
But not The Pope.
He's got a business to run.
And a war to fight.
There are some exceptions to the rule.
Moshin Kaddouri. Alias Mo the Show.
He had his eye on a different career.
But pretty soon after the war broke out,
nobody was spared.
Not even their pet cousin.
Excuse me, I have to go to the toilet.
What's going on?
Yeah, it's me.
Can you come round?
Studio 6, Amsterdam.
No, just one.
And, what now?
Satisfied?
Off you go. I'm not at school.
I'm working.
Haven't heard from you in a while.
- Yeah, here.
Great.
-It's going well, isn't it?
Bro, what the fuck.
Who you dealing for?
Romano. Romano.
I'm dealing for Romano.
Romano's in jail.
Sorry, Adil. Adil from Arnhem,
the kickboxer.
He's the boss now.
Password?
Your mother.
Hey, he's right.
Is that scumbag Turk your supplier?
-Yes. Yes.
What's the second password?
isaskankyslut
That's right.
Mate, throw in an extra packet.
Need it right now.
No, no, no.
Are you running for the bus?
No, you're not.
Just take it nice and slow.
Where are you?
Uilenstede!
Open your mouth wider.
What the fuck are you doing here?
Get lost.
One scratch on that car
and I'll rip you apart.
I'll have a Coke.
Tattoos are mark of insecurity.
-Really?
You could say the same
about your make up.
What the fuck you doing?
Smiling?
-Do we know each other then?
What are you doing talking to my girl?
-Don't mind him. He's bullshitting.
You this one, bro.
I'm fucking a whore!
Tell Adil I'm on my way.
Adil? Did he say Adil?
I'm looking for him. He's my cousin.
Old school fucking retards.
They're just prancing around
like ballerinas.
Hey, Adil. what if you hadn't stopped?
What if? What if?
If my father was king of Morocco,
I'd be a prince.
You mean Prince Zbel.
Hey, didn't you knock
this guy out in a tournament?
He was unconscious for 45 seconds.
I'm going out for chow.
Want some?
Adil, I didn't know you had
a handsome cousin with tattoos.
He's upstairs.
I'll go.
-Wait here.
Bloody hell. When were you last
in your old neighbourhood?
Must be 10 years ago.
What have you been doing?
You still can't say your alphabet I see.
-It impresses the chicks.
Mad fucker.
-Oh yeah.
How's my auntie?
-You know my mum. She doesn't change.
Still making sure the boys go to school.
Instead of hanging out on the street
all the time.
Fancy a shisha pipe?
If I wanted a cold sore
I'd go down on a heroin whore.
How's it going with the DJing?
Like Martin Garrix yet?
Still appearing in the AIR?
-No, man.
I play techno, you know.
It's going well. Yeah, just fine.
Have you traded sport in
for the snack bar?
I may have a paunch,
but I can still knock your teeth out.
My brother hangs with you.
Why do you let my brother deal?
I don't want him around you,
or dealing for you.
He's still at school,
he hasn't got a record. Leave him alone.
Leave him alone?
-It's no good for him.
Fine, I'll leave Mouse alone...
if you can name the last three jobs
he applied for.
Forget it.
His last application, where was that?
When's the last time
you saw your brother?
Well, cousin?
After my mother's funeral.
Exactly. We take care of everything
he lacks at home.
Or at least, I did.
Where were you when he needed you?
He was there for you.
What kind of example are you?
You just listen to me...
next time you come in here and talk
to me like that, I'll beat you to pulp.
We're his family now.
You gave up that right when you left
the neighbourhood. Understand?
Now, get the hell out.
Where are you?
It's fucking freezing.
SLEEPING PILLS
Ladies and gentlemen, we commence
proceedings against Mr. Tevreden.
The neighbour's keeping an eye out.
She'll be fast asleep till 7.
You are Romano Te Vreden.
Tevreden.
Excuse me?
-The emphasis is wrong.
My name is Tevreden.
You said Te Vreden.
He's happy, your honour.
-Silence.
That's just splitting hairs.
You are Romano Tevreden.
You were born on 25 November 1980,
in Amsterdam.
Where the fuck is Pencil?
Did you reach him?
Fuck. Fuck.
Hey, hey, take it easy.
Let him go.
That's exactly what The Pope wants.
Don't let him get to you.
On my mother's life,
if they lay a finger on Belgian...
it'll be jihad on all their mothers.
I need to know what
that fucker is planning.
They're going to off Belgian.
Fuck.
Mouse, go to Osdorp. Hang about,
look around you, ask questions.
They must have him there somewhere.
Be discreet.
And you, get to work.
Text Slick.
Maybe Pencil's at the sitting.
You stay here.
Hey.
How you doing, chief?
Last chance.
Where do you keep the stash?
Well?
-Go fuck yourself.
Think of your mother.
Oh, give me strength.
Adil, give me that thing here.
You don't want to talk?
Unlawfully robbing someone
of their freedom...
and keeping them hostage, blackmail...
accessory in kidnap of
Mr and Mrs Meeuwissen...
aggravated assault, intimidation...
theft of money, jewellery and watches...
valued at a total of 345,000 euros.
Moreover, the suspect attempted
to escape arrest...
and therefore put himself, his daughter...
and others on the road,
in serious danger.
Driving down
the Postjesweg in Amsterdam...
he further caused major destruction
of public property.
Concerning the claim
by the aggrieved parties...
I request that the admissible claim
be declared in this case.
The claim is not sufficient...
-Don't look up right away.
Based on these facts...
-8 o'clock.
...in the dossier, the public prosecutor
is of the opinion...
that Mr Tevreden poses
a very real threat...
to the public and
is held legally responsible.
Mister, have you see in a boy
in a red jacket?
No, man.
Hey, didn't you write 'De neus'?
Dude, it's the only book I've ever read.
What you doing here?
Researching a new book?
Yeah, I'm writing a new book.
I'd like to talk to one of you lot.
You lot?
What do you mean, you lot?
You've got a call, John van de Heuvel.
Yes?
Shit, in which hospital?
Is she asleep?
Okay, I'll come as quick as I can.
Good. Okay, bye, bye.
Seven fucking years.
They go for the maximum, obviously.
I call it ridiculous. That's how it works.
But they claim to have a lot of evidence.
That should worry you.
So what has changed now?
What do you mean?
-You said it would all be fine.
So what's going on now?
Nothing new has been said today.
We knew all this already.
We'll go through it step by step.
I'll do my very best for you.
I promise you that.
Daddy.
Dad.
We need to talk.
About Youseff.
Son...
what happened to you?
Fuck.
Goddammit.
A beer.
Fuck. Are you going to talk or not?
I'm going to beat you to pulp.
I'll beat the shit out of you.
One more of the same, please.
Isn't that too dodgy?
Business must carry on.
I'm not doing any more, bro.
Don't talk stupid.
I'm not touching that money.
Now is the wrong time.
Just put in the stash.
Adil, Ibahesh came knocking on my door.
It's too dodgy. I won't touch it
I have to go, bro.
Of course you do, matey.
I've booked you 3 weeks in Dubai.
Get some sun, chill out. Why not?
I just don't get it.
Who's going to arrange her funeral?
-Her family.
They don't want to see me anymore.
I understand that.
-Fuck that.
Call me if you need anything.
It's my fault Tamara...
-Don't.
Why is The Pope still alive?
Because those nutters couldn't shoot.
Did you pay him?
-No cure, no pay.
It was Romano's call, bro.
Cure?
As if it was going to heal something.
What would Romano do?
He'd listen to your advice.
So...
What would you do?
The Pope has problems
with you and Romano.
It's not my war, bro.
You tell me.
Yo.
Are you sure it's Adil?
-Yeah.
Wipe the photo, yeah?
-Yes.
This is good stuff.
Feel it.
Your size.
Not in the shops till next year.
Versace label on the inside.
Get the pants done at the Turkish tailor,
and that's you sorted.
Excuse me. One moment please.
Belgian cousin
Merchandise on the way
Antwerp. We're in business.
Great stuff.
I want to try this on.
-Sure.
The sheen is good. I can see that.
I've got and eye for that stuff.
-I can see that.
Look, style in motion. Truly.
The shoulders fit. Tatta...
This one with the stripes, or the taupe?
No, this one's much better.
It's good, isn't it?
-Yes.
I'll take this one, and um...
The one at the end.
Don't you want a cummerbund
to go with it?
I've got them in purple and black.
-A sodding cummerbund?
There are thousands of ways
of disposing of a body.
But it's always problematic.
On Sicily,
the favoured method is concrete.
The bodies are set in concrete...
disappearing in
the motorway foundations.
The Camorra have clean-up crews...
to get rid of the bodies. They
make mass graves under rubbish tips.
In Amsterdam-West,
they're still working it out.
Inspired by films,
they think up the wildest schemes.
That's probably what happened.
We'll never really know.
Laabri Hmida, alias Belgian,
will never be found.
Well, I don't go on about
you smoking joints, do I?
Thank you for helping.
Struwwelpeter.
I'm so sorry.
Sorry.
I went to court.
I thought there was enough time.
I'm sorry.
I'll stop altogether.
I don't want this to happen again.
Beer?
Are you in pain?
No.
It's okay.
Listen, you're pissed off
you left her alone. I get it.
We just got going.
Where's your journalist soul...
Shut up.
I just wanted to say...
-I know what you want to say, I'm not an idiot.
I don't want it anymore.
-So we just get into it, and you quit?
Yes, that's the way it is.
What if I've got the perfect source?
What do you mean?
-What I say.
Are you in then?
No, man. I'm sorry.
Some things are more important
than Mocros with a business plan.
Fancy a beer?
Non-alcoholic, no doubt.
Disgusting.
Good afternoon, sir.
Your neighbours called.
There seems to be a problem
with the drainage.
What drainage?
-It's a problem with the water.
We can check it
and save you a lot of trouble.
Yes? That's awesome.
Hello, how are you doing?
(singing in foreign language)
Beautiful.
Really, you look beautiful.
Lethal feud in underworld.
And now I want to go in-depth.
I want to get the inside story.
Not just observations.
From you guys' perspective.
This perspective.
You have to understand, if you get it wrong,
you're a long way from home.
Exactly. I don't want that.
Why can't you tell me everything?
Your early youth, the street, your friends.
There was this geezer 10 years ago.
I'm not going to name him,
but let's call him Pizza.
The Pope?
-No, Pizza.
Who's telling the story?
Pizza was a typical Mocro.
Irritating, worked up,
and he kept hitting brick walls.
Social services couldn't handle him,
or the police.
He was only interested in drugs
and making money. Cash.
A friend gave him a pile of DVDs
of an Italian TV series.
Corleone, a true story about Toto Rina.
A marginal Mafioso
who became the capo...
by getting rid of all the opposition.
I swear, the series was a hit
in Amsterdam-West.
And that series inspired us all.
We wanted the same thing
And that's what we got.
Well, Pizza recognized
that was his future.
The biggest criminals grew up
without a father.
They learnt at a young age,
to avoid getting picked on.
The ones with abusive fathers
didn't know any different.
No regrets, that was it.
I swear, if you want to understand us
you should check out the series.
Test, test, one, two.
Hello, everyone.
Welcome, brothers, on this blessed day.
Did you enjoy your meal?
Praise to Allah.
I'm full up.
While your dinner goes down...
I'll pose questions on Islam.
And I'm curious about your knowledge.
The first question is actually
for our host.
The man who's finally taken the step,
and is giving this engagement party.
Who are the angels
who question us in the grave?
Are they A: Jibril and Azrael
B: Israfil and Mikail
C: Munkar and Nakir
or D: Harut and Marut?
C.
-Answer C is correct.
Rematch for the young man
who just got engaged.
Oh, okay. What is Tahoet?
Everything that's offered,
followed..
or obeyed, other than Allah, is a Tahoet.
Correct. Let's hear some applause.
And who are the leaders of Tahoet?
Satan, may Allah curse him.
A person who is honoured,
and he's comfortable with that.
Someone who calls others to
pray to him, instead of Allah.
A person who claims to know
what the unseen is.
A master who rules with other laws...
than the law sent down to him by Allah.
They are the leaders of Tahoet.
That is the basis of good leadership.
Didn't the prophet speak to
Abdur-Rahman?
May Allah smile on him.
'Abdur-Rahman,
don't ask for leadership.
When this is given to you
because you asked...
you will be left to your own devices.
Handy man: Done. Mistral is gone.
Adils car was there. Congrats.
...you will be aided and abetted.
And always follow a bad deed
with a good deed.
Which cancels out the bad deed.
And always treat people well.'
Thank you. Thank you.
And now, I give you our host.
Thank you again.
Excuse me, I've got something to say.
I want to thank you all for coming.
You've had food and drink.
Now it's time to go home,
the party is over.
Take your wives and children home,
because there's nothing left.
I have a present for you.
A small present.
There's a little book on
the table by the door.
The book is called
'The Noble Life of the Prophet'.
Brothers, I want to tell you something.
What's in this book is the absolute truth.
Take one, if you like.