-I take it you're here for Gina's checkup? -Yes, that too.
Get your ass down here, Alfredito. This is serious.
What's serious?
When someone wakes you in the night with a dying man in the trunk,
it's normal to feel somewhat confused.
"Serious"? He's been shot in the head.
You get dizzy when you realize
you have to take the bullet out of his skull,
which will implicate you in an all-out war
between hit men and prostitutes who shoot people point-blank.
-Shall we speak to your wife? -And tell her what?
That I love being fucked in the ass with giant latex dicks?
I'd rather tell her myself than aid and abet some hit men.
I'll tell her myself!
If you won't do it on principle, we'll fucking make you.
Alfredo, what is it?
Nothing. I just buzzed you because I'll be a little while
because there's an emergency with a Saint Bernard.
So, yes, I'll be a little while.
There's always collateral damage in war.
Each side suffers its own.
Ours was called Arcadio.
And we fought for his life to the very end.
Black patch, red patch, green patch, yellow patch. Go!
Theirs died hours before and didn't even stand a chance.
It's true that ours left this life looking at three girls
who fought as hard as they could to save him.
What's wrong?
But let's be honest, we were no angels either.
We'd already decided to become the foxes in this hunt.
Those deaths were the slap back to reality we needed
to remind us that there was no going back.
Not for us,
nor for Romeo.
He went back to the brothel like a wounded soldier after battle.
Angrier
and hungrier for revenge than ever.
Because what he had lost was more than collateral damage.
It was the vital core of his existence.
My dick has been the source of all my greatest achievements.
Everything I've built
was illuminated by the creative inspiration of the penis.
And now my penis is dead.
Don't think about that now.
It'll be back to normal with…
With physical therapy, like everything else.
You're fucking smart, Romeo.
That's what gets you far in life.
-Your brains. -No, Moisés.
People talk about thinking with your dick like it's a bad thing,
but it's led to mankind's greatest achievements.
Why did Columbus go to America?
He thought of the number of native women he could fuck, no questions asked.
The most iconoclastic French paintings were done in brothels.
Greek sculpture, The Three Graces, Goya's Maja…
Art history as a whole is designed to jerk off to.
Even Neil Armstrong set foot on the moon
because he knew he'd fuck non-stop when he got back.
God!
Dicks make the world go round.
Romeo taught all his girls to worship dicks as much as he did.
But we didn't see them as the world's guiding light.
They were just an absurd tool of the trade we used to repay our debt
and regain our freedom.
How do you make more money here?
There are many ways: golden showers, lesbian threesomes, rim jobs…
Getting your ass whipped while they screw you.
-Can't I do the whipping? -Some like that stuff.
-I want all those ones. -We all want those ones, honey.
Use your words. Sex is in the mind.
In the dick too.
Yes, but the dick is led by the mind.
Talk dirty to them.
OK.
-How? -"Put your finger in my ass."
"Like that. Go on, break me. Deeper, big boy. Tear me in two…"
I don't want anyone's fingers in my ass.
You will. It makes them shoot their load earlier.
More clients, more money.
What do you say to them?
I lie on the bed as if I were dead.
And I say to them, "You can do whatever you like to me."
"Sodomize me, humiliate me, piss on me."
"I'm trash, and I deserve to be punished."
What's up with you?
Nothing, honey.
My self-esteem is so fucked up that I'm almost grateful for every thrust.
Besides, sex has never interested me.
Girls, are there more mojitos? Pretty please.
Coral, when you killed the person you killed,
how did you get rid of the body?
-If you don't mind telling-- -My mother-in-law? The ambulance took her.
-Why did you want to kill her? -I didn't.
I wanted to kill my husband, but my plan backfired, and…
bye, mother-in-law.
I was putting
oleander and St. John's wort in his food for four weeks.
I worked really hard.
He would say that the stew was bitter,
but he had some serious arrhythmia.
He'd wake up in the small hours with a pulse of 160.
It was all going so well.
But one day,
the poor woman came over, and she ate two bowls of soup,
with chickpeas.
I found her sound asleep with the news on, dead before the sports segment.
To my mother-in-law.
So…
why did you want to kill your husband?
Do you remember when we spoke about my self-esteem?
That's why.
I was falling into a pit that was getting darker and darker.
I began to drown in trash.
When I looked up, I couldn't see the light.
When I hit rock bottom, I wasn't even a person anymore.
I didn't see it coming.
At first, it was cute he was so protective.
"Hon, don't wear makeup. You're prettier without it."
"Don't wear a bikini. You look better in a one-piece."
And then,
there's no more "honey" in each sentence.
Then come the insults and harassment.
That's when you start to get scared.
One day, you stop wearing makeup,
and you give up your bikini, your friends, your job, the city…
And you turn into an amoeba.
You start
living without feeling.
From there, it was easy to become a whore,
a junkie…
or a piece of shit.
I'm so sorry, Coral. I didn't know you'd been through all that.
-Girls, we have to-- -Did you ever ask her?
Sorry?
Did you ever bother to ask the person who wears a harness and sodomizes you
how she feels?
We have to get him out, girls. My wife's calling me.
Why not ask her to do that to you?
My wife and I have a different kind of relationship.
Wouldn't it make more sense to ask your wife rather than a stranger?
I've always treated you with respect.
I go to the club, we chat, have a drink, laugh, do what we do.
-Sometimes you have orgasms. -What?
Your situation isn't my fault.
Yes, it is.
Because you pay to fuck.
You think we choose to do it?
You think I enjoy putting Vaseline in your ass?
Or having someone put coke in my vagina for fun?
You really think we choose to do it?
Without people who pay to fuck,
there wouldn't be people like us getting kidnapped.
You have to get him out of here. My wife could come down at any moment.
Forty percent of Spanish men pay for sex.
So out of every ten Spanish men you see,
four of them visit whores.
Almost half of Spain.
-They're good figures. -Not bad.
Considering how vilified it is. We've been dragged through the mud.
The clients even have to come in secret.
Imagine what we could achieve
if fucking a few whores a month were socially acceptable.
We need to dignify the profession
and protect the consumers' rights and freedoms.
Exactly.
How do you improve any brand's image in a capitalist society?
With advertising.
What the fuck is that?
FUCKING CHANGES YOUR MOOD
What is that, man?
Do you like it?
SEX IS A SYMPTOM OF GOOD HEALTH
Of course I do.
No way.
CHANGE YOUR DAY THE BRIDES CLUB
We're going to do TV next.
The first ad of the year, the one all of Spain watches after the countdown,
is going to be ours.
We're going to steal Coca-Cola's slot.
And next year, because we'll kill it,
we'll be the first ad on the fucking Super Bowl.
Do you like it or what?
All wars take their toll.
For hookers, it means they stop feeling.
Psychologists call it "disassociation," but it's just a defense mechanism
to cope with being repeatedly fucked by strangers.
Without feeling fear,
disgust, or pain.
If you don't want to fuck,
sex becomes rape.
With no tenderness or affection.
You need to short-circuit inside to bear it.
To switch off.
To care about nothing.
SEX IS A SYMPTOM OF GOOD HEALTH
Every girl that Romeo broke
gave him a profit of about 250,000 euros in two years.
It made mincemeat of us all.
FUCKING CHANGES YOUR MOOD
Those billboards made me wonder
how much money he'd made off me over the last 15 months.
Without sucking a single dick.
And that's when I knew what we had to do.
And I knew how to change our day.
We'd go to Club Las Novias,
like the billboards said.
Wendy, let's go there.
KARAOKE BAR
We have to do the unexpected. What do they expect us to do? Run away.
What don't they expect us to do? Go back to the club.
And we set them a fucking trap.
I don't follow you. It must be the amphetamines.
-What kind of trap? -A deadly trap.
We need to think it through.
But we'll set them a trap.
We'll take what's ours. We'll steal the fucking money from the club!
You said people look down on thinking with your dick.
You know what else they look down on?
Addictions. People talk about them as if they were bad. No fucking way.
They're not.
Things are addictive for a reason.
-Right? -Because they're awesome.
Exactly. No one gets addicted to going to Mass or breaking rocks.
People get addicted to partying or sex.
Or heroin.
If something's addictive, I'm there, for fuck's sake.
The fucking first in line.
Because I know it'll be fun!
Of course, bro.
Thank you, my boys. Thank you.
Thank you, for fuck's sake.
You…
No need for thanks.
I would do anything for you, Romeo.
Just like I would for my dad.
Romeo?
It's Beefcake.
-Come in, Beefcake. -Some guy--
Come in.
Get in the Jacuzzi. Don't be a pussy.
We're an odd number.
-Another time. -Beefcake.
I'm your boss.
I'm handicapped.
I've had a shitty week. Take a bath with us.
In how many other jobs are you asked to get in a Jacuzzi?
You don't think we're queer, do you?
Take your clothes off. Didn't you hear him?
Come on, we don't have all day.
Aren't you taking your briefs off?
You're coming in in your tighty-whities? Come on!
Now. Now you can tell me what you came to tell me.
Some guy downstairs wants to see you. It's about the three girls.
Hi, Fernandito.
Shall we go upstairs, and I'll lick your butthole?
No. Not today, Lupe. I'm not here for that. Thanks, though.
You're so boring!
Ciao.
How many of us are there at the club? Thirty.
Thirty. How many clients do we do each night?
-Ten. -Thirty. Ten.
Ten.
I fucking love this song.
-Get on with it. -OK.
Ten clients a night,
at 100 bucks a job.
Without drinks, golden showers, or extra shit.
Times that by seven. How much is that? I'll tell you. Over 200,000 bucks.
And where's that money? In Romeo's safe.
And we have the fucking code.
1404.
1404!
How are we going to rob the safe with Moisés and Christian in the club?
What's up, girls?
Are you doing your homework?
We're working out how much we can make if we rip off our boss.
Ex-boss.
That calls for a toast!
Why don't you go stick your dick in ice, man,
and leave us alone? Thank you.
Why do you have to be such a jerk, girl?
That guy was super cute and he was being nice.
There's no reason we can't plan a heist and do free shots at the same time.
Hey, handsome! Let's toast!
-Thank you for seeing me. -What can I do for you?
-Fernando, right? -Yes.
Let's see.
I want to pay for Gina's freedom.
I know she's run away and owes you money.
I want to pay that debt
so she can start over.
And may I ask why you want to do this good deed?
We're in a relationship.
It's love.
That's wonderful news.
-Isn't that right, boys? -Yes.
I'm so happy for you both.
Well, let me check my accounts to see how much Gina owes
and work out how much I'll lose out on from her over the next nine months.
That's the length of her contract.
Beefcake!
Please take this gentleman down to the club in the meantime.
Thank you.
That fucker knows where the girls are.
-He's hiding them. -How do you know?
You wouldn't pay unless you know where they are.
Oh shit! And they were with him when we found them at his complex.
I didn't know you found them.
We didn't want to make a scene at that guy's pool.
He called security.
-Then we found them again. -And they escaped again?
What's going on, Moisés?
Is there anything else you want to tell me?
Maybe you wanted them to get away from the start.
When I asked you to bring them to me in one piece,
you said it'd be better to kill and bury them.
Did you really want to kill them?
Or did you want them to vanish without a trace?
More to the point, why?
Come here.
Before you even consider lying to me or betraying me,
let me remind you that I'm your fucking guardian angel.
And if it weren't for me, you'd be rotting in jail right now.
I was the one who was there when you knocked on my door…
and asked for help with that thing with your dad.
Me.
And that…
That deserves loyalty, brother.
Go find out what Fernandito knows.
And if he doesn't talk,
put him in a barrel of acid until he sings.
Perhaps it wasn't very smart to get wasted
before going into the hardest battle of our lives.
But we thought we deserved to have fun for the first time in years.
To dance for fun and laugh for ourselves,
and, most importantly, because things were actually funny.
After all, having fun is what soldiers do before battle.
Girls!
I know how to get rid of Christian and Moisés.
How?
-By hunting them. -How?
With what Coral said. A bear trap.
-Are we really stealing a digger? -Why not?
Yes, babe.
It'll be so easy. Do you know why?
No one steals a rattletrap that goes 7 mph.
All we knew was that it might be the last thing we'd do in our lives.
None of us had a life to go back to. So, yes, we did it.
Like ripping off a Band-Aid without considering the pain.
The difference was, if things went wrong,
that night would be the last night of our lives.
But who cares if it were?
In the euphoria of the night, you believe you can give as good as you get.
Subtitle translation by: Tom Sullivan