Today, we're opening the best whorehouse in the world.
I've been to Las Vegas, Bangkok, Amsterdam…
We have nothing to be envious of.
Nothing.
If Michelin awarded stars to clubs, we'd have three.
Or four.
Can you imagine if they gave a place like this Michelin stars?
A place like what?
With coke, illegal girls, and dirty money.
-A bit of everything-- -Tell me.
Why do you reckon it says "club" in big letters out there?
Because we're a soccer team?
No.
If it were illegal, would they let us put a neon sign above the door
advertising it in bright colors?
No.
That's why we must be really proud of a place like this.
Spain has the highest prostitution rate in Europe.
The third highest in the world.
We're not first in the steel industry.
We're not first in mining.
We're first in whores.
So we have to hold our heads high.
Welcome The Brides.
From Cuba, Gina.
From Ukraine, Viviana.
From Brazil, Anita.
If a soldier were to put his cock in a woman's mouth until she vomited,
he could be reported in any country in the world.
But in a club, you can do it for 50 euros, and nobody says a thing.
A brothel is an alternate reality, and Romeo was proud of his.
Even though he'd kidnapped women.
HAVANA, CUBA
If you come to Spain, you'll have a great job.
You'll earn a lot and can send it home.
And how would you do that? With a contract?
First, I'll get you a passport.
Then, a friend at the embassy will do the paperwork,
and in two weeks tops, you'll have a visa to come to Spain.
-What's the job? -Waitress. Do you have experience?
I learn fast if you give me a chance.
-Of course we'll give you the chance. -Really?
They tell us all we'll be waitresses,
but it's not true.
And we don't live at a summer camp,
although we all sleep together.
And we don't tell our families about our adventures.
And we don't like partying all day long.
And we don't like fucking papitos.
Give it to me, papito.
And not every cock is the biggest I've seen in my life.
-How did it go? -Everything more or less fine.
You take her.
She needs complete bed rest.
Bring her back tomorrow at the same time so I can check on her.
-Thank you. -You bet.
You bet.
The day Romeo buried his wife…
when he gave you a day off,
the day he closed the club because he's mourning,
was the day that three of your coworkers used as an opportunity
to smash his skull in…
and run away.
But, before that, you were all up there, drinking, chatting…
And, clearly,
one of you must have known.
And that girl
told another girl.
And that other girl told another.
And another.
The only thing I want to know
is which of you knew this was going to happen.
And for her to tell me where those bitches are.
Did you know?
No.
And you?
-Are you sure? -No.
Did any of you know anything?
I asked if any of you knew anything.
Christian.
Let's change the question.
Who do you think, out of all these girls, knew something?
Either give me a name…
or a nipple.
Bambi.
She's friends with Gina.
I'm sorry.
And you?
Who do you think knew?
Bambi.
I saw them talking at the barbecue.
Bambi.
I'll stop talking.
You can go to sleep. You must be tired.
Today has been full of emotions.
Good night, girls.
Wait.
Let's go upstairs for a quiet chat.
Where will we spend the night?
We need a house.
Or a bed, anything.
Girls.
Today's our lucky day.
It's Saturday. It's closed tomorrow.
THE WAY HOME
It took us 15 minutes to open that shutter.
It was the gentlest break-in ever.
Go on.
Inch by inch,
silently, we made an opening.
Very good, Wendy.
And we found our home.
With eight different rooms.
Clean sheets.
A comforter.
A nightstand.
Everything brand new.
I like that one.
I'll only ask you one more time.
Where are they?
I don't know, Moisés. Really, I don't know.
Get in the fucking box.
No.
No, please.
Get in, because if I put you in there, it'll be in pieces.
No, please. No.
Get in the fucking box.
If I tell you to get in the fucking box, fucking do it.
Bambi.
That's all the oxygen you have.
Tell me where they are before it runs out.
Shut the fucking door.
I'LL BE RIGHT BACK
Hello?
Hello, Coral. It's Romeo.
At this very moment, you must be thinking I'm talking to you from heaven.
But you know what? Saint Peter didn't let me in.
The son of a bitch has the right to refuse admission.
Honey, you broke my skull.
Now I send information to my left arm, and it doesn't respond.
My brain sends information to my left leg, and it doesn't respond.
And that's the good news.
What about Charlotte?
Dead.
The bad news is that when I find you, you'll find out how I feel,
because I'm going
to rip off your limbs with a jigsaw.
Just enough for your holes to stay in place.
I'm going to parade you around the club wrapped in a baby blanket.
I have to go, Romeo. I can't talk now.
The bitch hung up on me.
Fucking bitch.
Well, after the blanket thing, there was nothing else to say.
Who is it?
Mami, it's me.
Darling!
Why are you calling? How are you?
Mami, are you all OK?
Yes, we're all good here, thank God.
Mami, listen to me for a moment.
You have to leave the house.
You have to go to our family in Remedios, OK?
The people who brought me to Spain weren't good people, Mami.
I'm not a waitress. I've been working as a hooker.
But I got away.
And they might go after you now. Do you understand?
What have you done? You can't escape them like that.
I gave them my word that you'd be a good worker.
Mom, aren't you listening to what I'm saying?
They make me work as a prostitute.
I already knew that.
But the pay is really good, honey.
They send me money every month.
To raise your son,
to support this whole family.
It's all our futures.
If you don't go back to work right now,
they'll come and kill us all. And for good reason.
Carmen?
Carmen.
Please go back to work right now.
Gina.
Gina. Look at me.
Look at me.
Your mom sold you.
But listen to me. We have to look towards the future.
We'll have a new life.
With a house like this.
With a huge bed where we'll sleep spread-eagled.
And you'll choose what you want to be…
and who you want to be with.
And you'll be happy, I swear.
I swear.
Girls.
I've got breakfast.
I want you to find them and bring them to me in one piece.
In one piece?
Romeo, if you want, I can find them, shoot them, and bury them in the desert.
Don't you worry about that.
I may end up using a walker the rest of my life,
so bring them to me in one piece
so I can have fun during my rehabilitation.
Don't assume the worst, Romeo. You're as strong as a fucking ox.
You worry about getting better.
We'll deal with the club and everything else.
We'll bring you the girls. In one piece?
In one fucking piece it is.
Yes?
-Watch that, for fuck's sake. -Sorry.
Get my other cell phone.
It's in my jacket.
Here.
There they are.
They're in for it.
-Look. -We'll make one hell of a breakfast.
No, I'll make you such a great breakfast, you'll lick your fingers.
It's called "salamín" in Argentina. Gina, break the eggs. You're good at it.
-Listen… -No.
I'm going to cook you some incredible eggs.
This is the best.
There's no extractor fan here. The thing that sucks the smoke out.
I don't care if the shop smells. I'm not going to clean this either.
-Girls, I need to tell you something. -OK…
Romeo called.
It turns out we didn't quite kill him.
That's good news.
Charlotte's dead.
That's not.
And half of his body is paralyzed.
-When were you going to tell us? -What else did he say?
That he wants us to feel the same as him
and that he's going to rip our arms and legs off
and leave only our holes, with a saw.
Some weird kind of saw. I didn't catch it.
Why the fuck are we playing kitchen?
Is anyone there?
Come in!
It's Mari Luz.
Who the fuck is Mari Luz?
One, two, three.
Things are getting ugly.
One of us two will have to quit.
Quit what?
Crime. The club. This, for fuck's sake.
What the fuck, man?
Our mom's handicapped, Christian.
What if one day we're done in? Who'll look after her?
-Lately, she's been crying all night. -What do you mean?
-You gave her anisette once, right? -Yes.
I did, too, and now she wants anisette.
She asks for it every night. She cries if I don't give her any.
Now she wets and shits her pants. And no nursing home, thanks to you.
Are you saying I shouldn't have hit the fucker who broke my mother's hip?
Hey, Moi. Is everything my fault?
-What's wrong with Mom is my fault too? -No!
What if we take her to the club?
-She'll have fun with the girls. -You really want to take Mom to the club?
I don't know, man.
Let's get those sluts.
And who are you?
The industrial park's security guard. Who the hell are you?
The cleaning lady.
On a Sunday?
And why is that bed unmade?
I was fucking people.
And you have no idea how many.
I don't know what's going on, but you're in big trouble.
You're the one in trouble.
Get up!
No, please. Don't shoot. Please don't hurt her.
-Get back! -Please.
Is anyone else with you?
Is anyone else here?
We're 15 kilometers away, and they still haven't moved.
Get help! Wendy, go find a defibrillator.
-Wendy, now. -But he's not dead, is he?
He is at the moment. We need to do CPR.
We've killed another one. We're fucking jinxed.
Stand back.
One, two, three.
Are you OK?
-I think my stitches have burst open. -Stapler.
Gina, grab some backpacks and anything we might need. We're leaving.
We saved your life.
So don't be ungrateful, you son of a bitch.
You were hit.
You didn't see anything. You don't remember anything.
We have your ID,
your address…
and, most importantly, your gun.
I won't say anything.
I swear.
Attaboy.
-How far is it? -Eight minutes.
Go past them.
We'd left a trail of blood that had made us the hares in a hunt.
On our own, in the middle of the desert,
we knew there was no going back, and that nothing was worse than the past.
Now what do we do?
I don't know.
I know someone who can help,
but they live on the other side of the island.
And then a bus showed up.
We thought it would take us to freedom.
But it was just taking us into the lion's den.
That'll be their last trip.
Hasta la vista, babies.
Subtitle translation by: Tom Sullivan