The one who has meant the most to me in life…
…is Molotov.
Well.
Oh! Well. Well, you go on out.
Jump out, it’ll get real cold in here damn quick if you’re going to linger like that.
Food’ll be in an hour, so you’ll have to meow so that I can hear you.
Molotov! Come to daddy.
You wanna come and eat some? Molotov!
No!
No, no, no...
No, no, no!
No, no
Bastard!
God dammit’...
Fuckin’ fox bastard. This will be your last meal!
I’ll show you some goddamn dessert!
All of a sudden I had blasted my way right into the nursing home.
61.
- How’s it going? -62.
Now I lost count. How many to each box?
- There’s 10 to each box, it says so right here. - You can never trust that.
- It’s usually right. - I’ll just have to count again.
I’ll start over. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.
♫ Long may he live for. Long may he live for, long may he live for a hundred years ♫
♫ Of course he shall live for… ♫
Allan! Allan!
Allan? Allan?
Allan? - Oh my god, where is he?
- Where’s the old guy? - Where’d he go to?
Hi!
Well. Is there a... Can one travel somewhere from here?
- Where did you say you were going? - I didn’t.
Are there any means of transport leaving from here?
- When? - Yes…
Anytime really.
Is there anything running here?
The bus to Strängnäs leaves in 3 minutes.
- Strängnäs? - Yes, route 322. Is that of interest?
Yes…
Is this enough?
No, it’s not enough. You can get as far as Byringe, maybe.
- What’s in Byringe? - Not a damn thing.
Uh-huh! A one way ticket to Byringe, thanks.
And you are... over 65...
- What? -Well. Let’s see…
- There you go. - Thank you.
Fucking crap!
Come on, what the fuck?!
How did they figure this shit?
Hold the bag! Don’t let go of it! Shut your fuckin’ mouth!
Well…
The old fart must have vanished into thin air!
It’s dark and locked in the basement. There’s no way he got in down here.
We have to call the police. Will you do it, or should I do it? You call them!
Allan!
There are plenty of people who have shouted at me, from conductors to dictators.
Where the fuck are you, old-timer?! Shit!
Allan!
The first one to scream because of me was my mother.
I do not remember her screaming, but I’m pretty sure she did.
I probably screamed too. That’s what new-borns do the first time they get to look around.
The old man I never got to see yelling that much.
- Karlsson has blasphemed! - Because I showed the rubberman?
It’s the only solution to famine and strife. You call that blaspheming?
If you do it during Children’s Day at the main square in downtown Malmköping...
- I need to warn people... -...then that is blaspheming!
I was nine the last time I saw him.
It’s impossible to live in this sanctimonious monarchy. I’m going to Russia!
Dad declared his own republic on 160 sq-feet right in the middle of Moscow.
This is the solution to famine and strife! With this, the woman will not be with child.
No, no children. Njet. This is fantastic.
- There, my dad could do as he pleased. - What are you doing?
- Until the Ruskies dealt with him. - But this is the solution to famine and strife!
Can I say just one last thing?
Flatfoot, flatfoot, flatfoot!
Mrs Karlsson...
The news of fathers passing came on a sunny day in April.
That was the same day that I discovered how sweet it is to blow things up.
All that father left behind came in a package.
Mother got a colourful egg, made by a Fabbe-something.
I got one of those Russian nesting dolls, Matryoshka.
And a camera!
Those were some good presents.
Mom traded that egg at Trader Gustavsson’s.
It turned out that he had made a good deal. But that’s what traders do!
After dads passing, mother coughed for two years-
-before she too stepped in to that supposed heaven where dad might also reside.
That made me a bit uneasy about the future...
...but I guess that’s what happens when kids are about to become orphans.
- How will I manage? - You sound like your father.
He was always thinking. Look at what happened. Thinking is futile.
The only sure thing is that things are what they are...
...and will be what they will.
Those were my mothers last words.
Ever since then I had to get by on my own.
- Hello! Hello! - Huh?
- You forgot your bag. - Oh yes, that one. It’s fine.
There are no trains running here. It’s closed.
- Huh, what did you say? - There are no trains running here.
- The Station is closed. - Well, yes.
I can see that. I wasn’t born yesterday.
- What are you doing here then? - The bus, it stopped here.
Uh-huh. But then wheres-to are you going?
Wheres-to? Well, no... It's...
I don’t know. We’ll have to see.
- Have you been hoboing long? - H-H-Hoboing?
It’s a decent sized bag you’re lugging around.
Nah, this thing? It’s not mine. It sort of just came with me.
- A thieving oldster then. - Haha, well...
- Are you hungry? - Ah shucks, food? I’m mainly thirsty.
- We can fix that! - Really, well. Lovely.
- Can you find where we’re going? - I usually practice running here... - I don’t give a flying fuck!
- I know the area... - I said: Can you find your way!?
- Yes, I know the area. - That’s fuckin’ good fortune for you!
What the hell...
- What are you doing? What’s the problem? - It’s out of gas.
Do you have a fuckin’ spare can or what? Huh?!
There’s only one house in Byringe! It’s brown... or light brown.
It’s a bit yellow too!
- You don’t suppose he just went astray? - Oh no, I don’t think so. His mental acumen is fine.
There’s nothing wrong with his brain. Can the inspector understad how someone just sneaks out of their own party? -No
I’ve put in so much work for his sake and he just up and disappears.
We bought a marzipan cake for at least 40 people.
We ordered it for his sake, because he likes marzipan cake.
- Normally we just eat whipped cream cakes here. Marzipan gets stuck in the oldies’ teeth. -Mmmm
What are we to do with that cake? Here I am with a huge cake for a bunch of old-timers that can’t eat marzipan.
- Well, well. - I personally fancy Schwarzwald cake, but then again it’s not me having a birthday.
You know what? You call me when he gets back, because cases like this usually get solved very quickly.
Has he jumped out of the window? You don’t suppose he's jumped out of the window? It was open this morning when we came in singing.
- It was actually open then. - Well, I wouldn’t know.
- It’s entirely possible. Call me when he gets back. It’ll probably fix itself. - I don’t think so. -Oh no?
Oh man, nursing homes! They have the idea that I should go come fall.
- I’ve only ever set my foot there once. - Well, well...
- After four there’s always room for one more. - Haha, yes.
I got a buck to entertain the old-timers with my accordion.
They sat there gaping like hollow birds nests.
- So you play the accordion? - Oh yes.
Wretched souls, just sitting there... I’d rather sit in the big house.
- Well, Congrats again! - Oh right, damnit! I forgot about that.
Say hi to Tiny Tim!
Ever had a ball and chain?
- Nah, shucks, it never turned out that way. - How the hell did you manage that?!
Do you tinkle outside? I need to make room for the next round. It’s pressing...
A fine thing that you managed to eat! There’ll be dessert later.
Yes yes, I’m coming...
Nice. - Hello, anyone there? Hello!
- Where’s the old fart and the bag? - It’s closed.
- Whaddaya mean closed? -It’s not a railway station.
- Where’s the old fart and my bag? -I live alone here...
You think I’m fuckin’ stupid? Who the fuck’s been sitting here then?
- No... Oww! - Old fuck!
- Watch it, goddammit! - Oww!
- Oww! Stop it! - You old fuck! You feel me?
- You... - I’m a fuckin’ kill you!
- Watch it! - Yes!
Stop hitting!
- Oww, oww, oww! - Wanna flip a coin?
- We’ll see if you get to keep living. - Stop it. Just calm down...
Lucky you that I don’t have any coins!
- There’s a coin bowl in the hallway. - The hallway? Are you completely fuckin’ stupid?
- Goddammit, what a whack! - You don’t say?
Hey you, what about that dessert you were talking about?
- We need to get him out of here... - Wha..What? - Well before he comes to.
I have to admit that I’m getting a bit curious...
…about what’s in the bag.
There! That’s the quickest way...
- Oops, that was a bit much! I can take that one. - ...to open, even if you do know the combination.
You want it neat, or?
Oh, lord almighty!
That was a whole lot of cash. No wonder why the little guy was so cranky.
Open up, for fuck’sake! You hear me old-timer?!
Let me out!
- I just want that fuckin’ bag. - Calm down! - I won’t hit you!
Seriously, hey!
- What was that? - Ah well, I turned on the unit.
I’ll take the fuckin’ bag and then I’m out of here. I won’t hit you.
It’s easy to make rosey plans when you’re locked up or in deep shit.
That won’t do much for you. Life is what it is, and will be what it will anyway.
That’s a lesson Trader Gustavsson learnt.
- Wait here, Bibi! - Come back soon.
He had planned his escapade well. He picked a sunny day, a beautiful road...
...and a perfect hill for his pee-break, and still it went south.
Because I had picked the very same hill for my test blast.
She screamed to high heavens.
I guess that’s what mistresses do when trader-heads plonk down on car hoods.
Even though the test blast was successful, I got a oneway ticket to the mental hospital.
There.
This is your room now, no monkey business!
Well, after a few years of lock-up-
-I ended up at one of those racial biologists, that professor Lundborg.
Stop it, Allan.
Hm...
Mm.
“Northern Native” “Negro musician from U.S.A. Deported.”
Does Allan know if you have any negro-blood in the family?
- No, I.. I don’t think so. - I just can’t make sense of this.
Allan has negroid measurements. You are prone to violence.
- But you are very fair skinned. - But if the Professor does have a negro anywhere I’d really like to meet one!
- Allans father was of revolutionary character. - Mm-hum, he was a bit special.
And the apple doesn’t seem to fall too far from the tree.
I think we should err on the side of caution.
Lundborg laid out the contraptions and made sure my genes were not passed on to the population.
- Doctor, the patient is ready. - Yes yes.
I guess that what racial biologists do.
You can bandage him up a bit extra.
He wasn’t too sure-handed, but for what I could tell the surgery went well anyway.
- 49,800,000... - Here’s the last one.
- 49,900,000... - And that one.
- 50,000,000. - You know how to count, don’t you.
Not too shabby!
- Are you still not able to get through? - I’ve got no damn clue about what happened to his phone. The fuckin’ phone doesn’t work.
Just keep calling. Send a text goddamnit. Do as you intended, for once.
- But what was he supposed to do? - He was just to collect a thing, a bag!
- A bag? - Yes a bag. Surely you know what a friggin’ bag is, Bucket?
A portable carriage space to keep things in.
- Couldn’t you have picked up the bag yourself? - Does this look like a ride pass from a theme park?
- I forgot about the ankle monitor. - But I didn’t fuckin’ forget about it.
Is it The Bolt? I’ll take this.
- Just shut up! I’ll do the talkin’. - Is it The Bolt? - I said shut up!
But who is it?
- We have it. - What do you mean?
One of my boys has the cash. Therefore we have the cash. Say that we have the cash. No problems.
I ask you for one fuckin’ thing, and that’s for you to say that we have the money. Is it that fucking hard? Fuckin’ world record!
You take off to Malmköping, and you bring that idiot back home. This is serious now!
-Coffee? - Yes, yes please.
Anacin?
- Did you sleep well? - Yes.
- Has he made a ruckus this morning? - No, not a peep.
Negative 5... Holy hell!
- Goddamnit, what have I done? - What?
Shit! How could I forget to turn off the chiller?
Aha, yes. Well, well. It’ll...
It’ll all work out.
Regret does you no good, as long as you don’t have a time machine.
Eh, regretting something has never undone the regrettable.
I’ve never regretted my surgery, on the contrary, it was a stroke of luck!
If my crotch hadn’t been so numb, I would never had stopped at that cannon foundry.
And never taken up employment there either.
- These guns... - We forge the barrels. We are one man short.
You can watch for a week. - Esteban! Shut up and work!
Si, si, si! We have to work together to create a better world.
The Spaniard Esteban was thin, thin as a pennant.
But then again he only used his mouth to talk. - Come with and fight Franco!
Allan, were do you stand? What do you want? You must take a stand.
- You have to give me an answer. - I want to shoot! I like it when things explode.
We have to do something now!
When the civil war in Spain was approaching he wanted me to come with and crush some guy named Franco.
I thought why not? In war you get to blow all sort of things sky high.
Viva la revolucion! Viva Durutti!
Where are you going? Come with us! Come with me! Like the International Brigades...
Durutti says...
- Hitler is a good man. - We have to stop him.
- I want to sleep! - One second!
We have not time for sleeping! We have to fight Franco! We’d rather die than surrender!
Viva la revolucion!
I have to raise the flag of the republic and open your revolutionary hearts!
When we got there, the first bullet of the war had not yet been fired...
Death to fascists! Death to Franco!
...until Esteban shouted, for the last time.
The wise words of my mother came to me.
That dude never got to blow up any bridges-
-but I, I got to blow up all the more.
And tres, and dos and uno. Now we’ll get some thunder!
Get down, god damn it!
During many, many years, I did nothing but eat, sleep and blow stuff up.
Well, it was a wonderful time!
But perhaps it got to be too much of a good thing. All of a sudden my want for explosions was gone.
I thought: “To hell with this! I’ll do something else.”
If you’ve walked up and down Spain a few thousand miles, you don’t mind a ride.
Stop!
Why is he standing in the middle of the road? So stop!
Stop stop.
It turned out to general Franco who was out for a sunday drive.
My waiving was apparently appreciated 'cause he treated me to dance, paella...
…and a real bout of rioja-drinking.
That was a perfect ending to my time in Spain.
My friend Allan, you saved my life. I want you to have my favourite pistol.
Wow, it’s shiny.
- Care for it. - Thank you!
Señor! I wonder if it’ll fire.
This is how a man dances!
Everybody calm down, it’s my friend Allan!
Tell me, what will you miss most about our wonderful country?
The wine, and my friend Esteban who died.
Que Viva Esteban!
- What... what is that beeping? - Well, it’s probably some phone...
Well, there you go.
Let’s see here. Lots of texts pouring in.
- Now? - Well there’s poor coverage in there.
From The Pike, from The Bucket, The Bucket, The Bucket.
- The Bucket, Mom. The Bucket, The Pike. - He seems popular.
Well so-so. The Bucket writes: “Call or die".
Damn it!
- Hello! - Yeah hi, I’m at the station now.
There’s not a single fuckin’ dude here. There’s just some fuckin' weirdo at the ticket counter.
- What should I do? - Well, did you ask him?
- What should I ask him? - Ask if he’s seen anything!
Yeah ok, I’ll ask.
Ronny Hult and his wife are here. In the future you might go get your visitors yourself.
Sorry sorry, I didn’t even know they had arrived.
- Hi… - Uh-huh, please take a seat.
Well, tell me, but what was it that happened yesterday?
Well, I work at the Travel center, and a few hours had passed…
Just say what happened.
- But that’s what I’m doing. - You’re not doing it very well.
Ok, there was a guy who jumped me. He was really violent.
But now you forgot to tell about the old one!
But... First, there was an old person... Or, there was a man I sold a ticket to.
And that was the centenarian. The centenarian comes and buys a ticket from Ronny!
And then the biker guy comes and beats Ronny up and forces him to drive over to Byringe.
Hello?
Is there anybody home?
Hey, do you know what time it is?
Yeah...
- It’s almost eleven. - That’s good.
Then they’ll soon go on a lunch break in there.
Hey, hey!
- Hello... - Goodbye.
Uh-huh.
- Oh well, that could have hurt. - Sometime being dead can have its upsides.
There.
- Should we toss it all? - Toss all of it!
- What are you going to do now? - He’s gonna go in there.
Ah bastard ...!
There.
Djibouti. Uh-huh, well. He’ll be well travelled.
The advantage with vests is that size is rarely an issue.
Yeah...
Uh-huh. Damn ladies throw.
- What? - Julius, you’ve got to help me with the bag.
- Now that we’re two sharing it. - Hell yeah!
Well of course. And you’ll take that one. Thank you for that.
Hey, you there!
Hey you! Could you hang on a second? I’m from the police.
Have you... I’m looking for a hundred-year-old who’s lost and strayed from a nursing home in Malmköping.
- Have you seen any old-timer? - I’ve seen an old man on a rail trolley.
He went past with Jonsson.
- Uh-huh, was that Julius Jonsson? - Yes, exactly.
And then one with a biker vest. He was very snobby and wearing sunglasses.
Apparently that’s something people do these days. He didn’t even greet me.
- But where did you see them? - At the soccer pitch by Åkers styckebruk.
- Was it a long time since you saw them? - About half an hour ago.
- Are you sure about that? - No.
Well...
Bye.
Hey...
Hello! You don’t happen to have room for two hitchhikers do you?
Eh...
Hi.
- Well... Yes, yeah, that could work. - How nice!
- It’s pretty cramped back here. - Well I can keep the bag in the front seat.
- Where are you going to? - Is it your kiosk?
No, oh no. I’m just doing some extra work. I’m studying when not working.
Are you studying? Not Junior high I assume.
No, no I’ve tried some different paths. I’ve studied a whole lot of different things.
I imagine...that it’s a pretty difficult question this whole thing...
...with employment opportunities and stuff.
- How do you mean? - No, but...
There are like different... I mean to say...
- I can ponder... - That what?
I can imagine difficulties with this thing about choices. How...
But that’s terrific, keeping all doors open.
Yeah, well, never mind. Eh…
- Get in... - Thank you!
So, where are you headed?
Well... where are you headed?
- I’m going to the traders for some bulk buying. - Traders? That seems nice.
- Are you sure? It’s right in the middle of nowhere. - Nowhere is underrated.
Yes, perhaps it is.
Hey, can’t you do the local ads? That’d be perfect!
Yeah, Skandia, they’re 150 years old, and the geezer is 100 old.
That would be great. I mean, you as a cop could do something loco with it.
- No, I won’t do it. - But both of ’em are old.
- No but, can’t you hear what I’m saying? I’m a cop for crap’s sake. - It would be great, this thing.
Won’t you relent? I’m fucking employed by the government! I can’t friggin’ sit here and do ads on this shitty radio station.
The fresh 70ies group "The Police" performed the song "Message in a bottle".
- Now I've got officer Aronsson in the studio. - Inspector.
Welcome. You’ve got a "message" to the general public, but not in a bottle? - Eh, no.
No? Tell us a bit about it.
It concerns a man by the name of Allan Karlsson-
-who on his hundredth birthday disappeared from the nursing home in Malmköping.
Wow wow, a hundred years old, I’ll be damned! Is he playing hide and seek?
No. We believe that he’s been kidnapped by a biker gang at the station in Malmköping.
Has he been kidnapped, wow!
Sounds like a bachelor party. Is he getting remarried to Anna Nicole Smith or what?
We’d be very grateful if the public could give us any leads. - Thank you for coming.
- Hello. - Hey, I’m sitting in my car.
There’s some cop on the radio jiving something about a hundred-year-old that got kidnapped by a biker gang.
- What the hell are you saying? Kidnapped how? - It’s true. They said so just now on the radio.
- That’s got to be The Bolt! - Fuck me! Now Boltie-boy, you’re dead son.
That’s good!
- You want something? - Eh... No, I’m good.
Police suspect: 100-year-old kidnapped by biker gang; disappeared from nursing home.
Fill up... Pull the lever.
You need to pull the lever, otherwise there won’t be any gas. Pull the lever.
- No… - You need to pull the lever at the pump!
Have you never fueled a car before? You need to pull on that little grip on the handle or else you won’t get any.
- Did he kidnap you? - What? Who?
- Julius! - No, no. You need to pull on the lever.
The headline says you were kidnapped by a biker gang.
Julius was wearing a biker vest, I just saw it.
No no, the biker vest is not his. No no, he took it from that bald little boy.
- A little boy? - He doesn’t need it anymore, he’s dead as a dodo.
- I hit him over the head with a croquet mallet. - Have you killed him? - No no, he froze to death.
- Okay... - The bald little guy...the little bald guy
Han showed up with a sweaty face. He probably had the runs. He wasn’t feeling well.
He thrust the bag in my hand. There’s 50 millions in it. - What?
Drive! Step on it!
- He doesn’t know how to fuel. - Never mind that, just go! Drive!
Benny, pedal to the metal! Go! There you go.
- The old bat at the register saw me. - Saw what?
This here little bag just happened to fall into my pocket. Would you like a taste?
Yes please. So, you went shoplifting?
- What the hell?! - What?
- What the hell’s been going on? - I ask your forgiveness.
Obviously, you working in a kiosk would get pissed off when I stuff my pocket...
- He can’t wreck a budget of millions just for a bag of treats. - I don’t care about the candy!
What the hell have you done?!
Huh...?
Never that I'm doing a public appeal on radio again. It just turns into a mess.
- No, that didn't turn out too well. - Right, why should I do things like that?
They called from Åkers Styckebruk. The damn dog indicated corps on the rail trolley.
- Corps? - Yeah, that's right.
Benny, what do you say? Skip the traders and come with us instead?
Or do you have an exam on Monday?
- What're you going to do with the money? - "You?"... We're splitting it right?
Well, we can talk more about that later. Right now we're parked in a pretty bad place.
Can't you just hit it?
But whose money is it?
You know, it's not our money, someone else is supposed to have them.
Well, what someone else’s? What does really belong to whom? All things in the world changes hands sooner or later.
That shooter I got from Franco, I traded for a work permit when I got to America.
And in one stroke my want for blasting came back.
I have to say, it was a wonderful feeling.
Well, it was no trickier than that to light that candle.
Everyone got very excited. None more so than Harry.
Yes, Vice President Harry S. Truman.
A boozed up American can talk the ear off of anyone. Lord knows.
It takes a whole lot to stop them, things like a president dropping dead.
But that's precisely what Roosevelt went and did that day.
Now... Here!
Well Harry wasn't too picky about whose was whose.
Welcome back!
-Mr Karlsson. -Yes, Allan. -Welcome back to Sweden!
Nonono, Prime Minister Erlander wants to offer a welcome-dinner.
I barely managed to get my feet on the ground before I was shanghaied to that schmooze dinner at the Grand Hotel.
That suited me well after that damned airline food.
- Oh great, because I’m quite peckish. - You'd better get in quickly!
Retelling a story; The soldier got up and said: "Get down, geezers and grannies, he's reloading!"
Oh right, I heard from no less than Harry S. Truman that Allan is an exceedingly decent chap and that he also performed great services for America.
- Well, I don't know, but, we had one hell of a party! - But you have to tell me, I'm very curious!
We sat... we drank tequila. Loads of tequila.
Obviously I speak of what transpired before.
No, before, we drank only tequila, all the way. Harry wanted bourbon, that's just sissy stuff.
Mr Karlsson has to realize that it's the work that I'm referring to.
Oh, you're thinking of when I worked on Manhattan? Then you're not allowed tequila! That's totally reckless. It goes straight to your head.
You'll have to excuse me gentlemen, I've got to go. It's very interesting but the government calls, my wife that is!
That's it. The check's on me. You can brief engineer Eklund some more. Enjoy!
Well... Bye bye.
- Well the Prime Minister has asked me... - Hey, you think he's coming back?
- No. - Then I'll grab this piece of meat.
- It'd be a shame if it went to waste. - The Prime Minister has asked me to...
...ask around if perhaps there'd be a job for you at the atomic energy company.
- How nice! - If we begin with your schooling...
Well, that's not too much to brag about. Just three years.
- Just three years of academic studies?! - Yeah, I dropped out when I was nine.
- Nine? - Yes, exactly. Or no, I was ten.
No wait, I was turning ten that year, so I was nine when I left school.
Hey you, here's a little guy who wants to jump down into the basement. You can take his.
That Eklund disappeared quicker than a chicken shits.
But he wasn't the only one at the Grand who was out fishing, to put it that way.
Hey hey hey hey. Little lady, there's some nice stuff here. Grönstedts...
Wow, this one had some spunk to it.
Now it's starting to take hold. I feel awesome!
Damn!
What the hell is this doing here?
We're running low on gas.
- Go in here! - Yeah, do that.
Sjötorp? That sounds jaunty!
- Hello! - Hey, hey?
We're wondering if we might possibly be able to rent a room here for the night?
Well this is no god damn hotel. I live in here!
But we'll pay handsomly. Money's a plenty, that's not an issue.
- Uh-huh, but hell, are you on the lam. - There's not need for concern. I understand that it seems strange.
- Huh! There's yet another little old man. - We got a little lost driving, and...
...we'd be very grateful if that could be arranged.
- Allan. - Hi! Gunilla. - Pleasure.
Well, we'll see about that.
Ah, I guess I'll have to squeeze you in. Just as long as no one pees themselves, then you'll have to sleep in the barn.
- What's that? - Well, that's Sonja.
What's this then?
Aha! Hey there.
That wasn't too bad.
There, there!
Come, Sonja!
Is she about 40 years old?
Sonja? I haven't got a clue actually.
- Why would you think that? - I'm almost a zoologist, seems about right, I think.
Almost? How the hell can you almost be?
Well, one is almost done with the education.
- But where did you find her? - At a circus.
- Aha! Does she know different tricks? - I really haven't got a damned clue.
- Circuses are nothing but cruelty to animals. - Yeah, absolutely!
- I hate circuses too. - That was the one good thing my ex did.
He realized that I felt sorry for her, so he took the matter into his own hands
He just took her?
- Took? Doesn't an elephant own itself? - Yeah...
- Allan! - Huh? - Listen now...!
You can't do that!
- Stop, whoa whoa whoa! - I think there's not enough oomph!
It's supposed to taste of barbecue.
- What the hell is that? - A french potato salad.
Yeah well, I could see that but that green gunk. That looked tasty!
It's guacamole.
- Are you almost a chef too? - No, almost a dietician.
No, stop it. You're kidding me!
No, unfortunately I'm almost very many things. Almost a veterinarian...
Almost a macroeconomist, almost a pharmacist, almost a behaviourist.
Damn! You almost have to be single too. You couldn't have had time for a woman if you've been going on like that.
No. Or-yes...
Well, I'm single. I'm available.
- Or were you kidding? - No, but you've got to be kidding me?
No, not kidding. I've spent the last 18 years getting 550 college credits.
- Holy hell! - I've had it tough trying to quench my thirst for knowledge.
You've got to stop lying to yourself. It can all go to shit otherwise.
- Ain’t nothing turning into anything. - Well that's one analysis one can make.
What the hell? What the fuck are you doing here?
- What? - What are you doing here?
Eh...
- I was just going to pick up some stuff. - You have no things to pick up here!
Yeah, I have... I was going to pick up my bowls.
- What fucking bowls? - The blue fucking bowl with some floral pattern.
God damn it Ricky, you gave me those for my birthday. Are you getting them?
I've changed my mind. I want my bowls.
Go fuck yourself Ricky! Get lost! You're not supposed to be here.
- Pleasant to fuck with? - Yes, he's pleasant.
- He's the best. Real fuckin' nice. - Yeah yeah, sure.
- He's very good with his hands. "Making love" we call it. - Ricky. Hi! Congrats.
- Thank you... - Take care!
No, you'll have to turn around.
Yes, there you go!
Yes. No... Yeah, that works. A bit more...
- You'll have to... There you go. - You can back it up here.
- You're doing fine. - If you back it up a bit more...
There you go.
Man, he was riding the clutch.
Gunilla, Gunilla!
I don't know what the hell is wrong with me. I always meet idiots like that. I'm drawn to those idiots!
Maybe you'll know. You're probably almost a psychologist.
No, not fully... But I don't have that much further.
I've taken the basic courses. I still have neuropsychology to do, but that's just a short one.
But it's hard to say where your problem stems from.
But you can change your behavioural pattern...if you want.
But, Benny. You can't choose who you fall in love with.
No, unfortunately...
Gunilla! It was you and me. You and me...
- Yes, hello? - Bro!
- Hello, Ricky? - She's left me, it's over.
- She's met someone else. - Ricky listen, nevermind that damn broad!
It's not a damn broad, it's Gunilla!
Listen to me now, don't do any more valiums and give up the drink too. We'll deal with this crap tomorrow.
I can't do this. It's all done! She's screwing that damn centenarian. I'm sure of it!
What did you say? Stop, stop. What centenarian?
- Did you see the centenarian? - That damn geezer that was on TV who's a hundred years old!
But Ricky...
Well... Two days ago I was sat alone in my kitchen flipping a matchbox.
Then all of a sudden this old guy shows up, and now I'm sitting here. Huh?!
It's god damn wonderful!
Well, one thing sure leads to another alright.
But whether one thing is better than the other, well, that's something you can't be sure of.
But one thing I do know, is that submarines, propeller-planes and vodka-
-leads to an upset stomach. You'd better believe it...
Oh fuck me!
Is it my bachelor party? How exciting!
Wait, I'm not getting married. I don't even have a girlfriend.
Well, you can believe that!
Who's responsible for it?
Idiots! Fools!
Who's responsible?
What the hell's he saying? Kalashnikov?
That's the spirit! Good!
Dance, dance!
Come on, dance!
Damn, you're nagging, stop it.
- Franco... The fascist? - Always nagging... It gets old.
What's he saying?
Exactly, listen.
We don't all think the same, but...
...that a gulag camp is a real rat-hole is something most would agree on.
But then again I got to meet some new people too.
Some just briefly...but it was there that I became friends with Herbert!
You know, Herbert Einstein. Like I said, one thing leads to another.
- Hey, idiot! Put the stone back. - Yeah, yeah...
Idiot.
- Hello. - Hello!
And the food there, or the feed... It was lousy.
And I never saw a drop of vodka. Not one little shot came my way.
I decided on day, to get away.
I had a good plan. Herbert was the only one who could roam around freely without getting shot-
-because the guards had gotten used to him getting lost and strayed all the time.
After a year I gave up. I realized that my plan was much too complicated for Herbert.
But that's a hand grenade!
- Who goes there? -Halt!
Sorry, we have a problem. We have an unsafe hand grenade here.
Throw it!
Grenade!
I can tell you that loose rockets behave like cats’ willies in March.
They fly every which way.
The fire is spreading across the military base
Stalin took the news of the gulag camp and the whole damn pacific fleet burning to a cinder very hard.
He kicked the bucket.
Pull him out of the bedroom and drag the bastard into the bathroom and douse the bastard.
- Get it together for fuck's sake! - Oww!
- Out with the address! Where does she live? - Oww!
- Get it together! Where does the bitch live? - Sjötorp (Lake cottage)...
...because it's situated so beautifully next to a lake.
- Pike did you hear that? - Pedal to the metal Bucket! Let's roll!
The amplifier is not working, I haven't had if for that long. The warrant is still valid.
Of course I'll bring it in. Thanks!
Hey, I was thinking about those cadaver-dogs. How can we be so sure that they always indicate corpses?
- How do you mean? It's a corps-dog. - Well yeah, but...
I don't know, but, I'm thinking that Allan is 100 years old after all.
- And what? - Yeah but, senior people smell somewhat different to what we do.
A sweet, sweetish kind of smell. It's a little, kind of...
...somewhat "corpsy."
- Forget it. - Mhum, I think so.
I want you to check out these guys. Per Gunnar "The Pike" Gärdin och Hans "The Bucket" Claesson.
- But I've got my hands full with the centenarian. -But it's the same bikers; "Never again"
- Didn't you read the entire report? - Yeah, yeah, yeah, of course I have!
Did you choke on something?
There you go!
- What the hell? - Have some vegetables too.
I found this cell phone on the kitchen floor. Is it yours?
- No, it's not mine. - It wasn't Gunilla's either.
- The thing is, it's turned off. - Well, turn it on and you'll see who's called.
- Then you'll find out whose it is. -Yeah, but can one do that?
- There you go. - Thanks.
Someone called "Oleg" who has called. "Oleg" again.
His name is Alec, it's Russian. Little-Popov has called.
- Is it you cell phone, Allan? - Yes, it doesn't look any better.
- Yes, - Hey, I've found the geezer.
- Damn good. Do you have the bag too? - No, I haven't seen any damn bag yet. There's just a load of people here.
- Just find that bag and quick! - Eh, yeah, ok...
- "Mm eh" what "ok"? Is there a problem? - No, I'm just thinking about the fuckin' geezer.
- What the hell am I to do with him? - Don't think, just do what you do: Threaten! - Ok, I'll just threaten.
This is a threat!
Anyone does anything, I'll blow their heads off, get it? The bag! Get out the bag!
The bag, it's in the room, the kitchen.
- Hey faggot, get the bag, quick! - Do you mean me?
I said "faggot". Hurry up! I'll shoot the old man.
And you up there, keep calm!
Quickly!
Stop, stay there!
Back away from the bag. Back away.
- Hello! - Hello? Why's it taking so damn long?
- Did you find the bag? - I've got the bag in my hand now.
- Great! Do you have the green? - I'm checking it, I'm checking it now.
You all take it easy, easy-peasy! - Good, faggot! You stay calm.
Nice and calm!
- It's a damn crappy bag, all plastic. - Shut it, fucking raisin!
- God damn, loads a’cash! -Good Bucket!
- Take that damn bag, and its content and get your ass over here quick! - Get out of here, you bastard!
- Stop bitch! I'll shoot you. - Hey, I'm the one shooting! I live here. - Stop I said!
- Bucket, god damnit, what are you doing? - Get lost, I'll blow your head off!
- Fuck! Shit! - Bucket?
Shit! No...
Caracas, god damnit! Get up.
Hey, you're screaming.
- Where the hell have you been to? - Bought melons. We were out.
But, the Bucket just got capped by that damned centenarian, and you just up and leave?
- Are you joking? - You think I'm joking?! Does it look like I'm joking? Is that what's going on?
Half the damned crew and 50 million are gone, and you're buying fruit!
- Melon is not a fruit, it's a vegetable. - I don't give a flying fuck!
That's not what it's about. Never question me the way you do now. You got that?
I won't.
Where're you off to? Stop I said! Where the fuck are you going? You're not going anywhere!
Stay for fuck's sake!
I'm gonna cut... There.
- Did you get all the bullets out? - I think the last one went straight through. Sorry, I should have done something before.
What you should have done, was to inform me about all the god damn stolen money!
- Now I'm all mixed up in this! - But it isn't really my money just yet.
- It hasn't been decided if I get a share. - Yes Benny, you are in! Help me here!
- So he's in? - You're in too, Gunilla. You'll get a buck too.
A buck? I'm just as involved in this mess as you lot. A fourth will do, thank you very much!
- The sun's bearing down. Do you want to come for a swim? - No!
- Julius, shouldn't we take a dip? - No, god damn it!
- Sonja might want a bath. - No, she's not going to bathe.
- What are we doing with him? - Maybe set the car on fire?
- Eh, let him lay. - But, someone needs to do something with him!
I guess that will be me, since I'm the only one who accepts any sort of damn responsibility around here!
Responsibility? So it's your sense of responsibility that makes this place feel so safe right now?
- Hey, it wasn't me who was waving around a shooter just then. - What was I to do? He was about to blow our heads off!
- Hey, let's try to hurry up a bit, so we can get out of here? - I'm going for a swim, call me on this if there's anything.
- But where are we to pick you up if you are going to set the car on fire? - I don't know yet!
Driving around with a dead guy... I don't even know who he is!
Well, you can never be sure of that.
People can look like one thing, and then turn out to be someone else.
In Paris, spring of -68 , I went to a party-
-with Herbert and his pretty little wife.
It was at the French Minister of Foreign Affairs.
- Your majesty, good evening and welcome! - This is my husband Herbert.
- And his friend Allan Karlsson. - Welcome to our place.
No, Jean-Claude, not now.
But look, it's you. Are you trying to hide?
- What are you doing here? - Apologies, have we met before?
- You know each other?
we drank, damn we had fun.
- Who are you? - You know very well who I am!
Vladimir had not only gotten dressed up for the evening, he'd been playing dress-up for years at the ministers'.
That made the French a little talkative.
Give us a name!
And Ryan Hutten of the French CIA-office...
...he became a little curious too.
Thanks!
- I'm looking for Popov. - He's over there.
Old-mans-grip!
Have you started using the "old-mans-grip"?
But look... What are you doing here?
It's been a long time...? May I?
- This is my son, Oleg. - Oh yeah, your boy?
- Are they real American boots? - Yes, they're nice.
- Can I have them? Please. - Oleg, quit it.
- He can have my... - Take this, it's also American.
No, you don't have to...
- Now, what do you say? - Thanks.
Yeah yeah, that's alright. Enjoy it in good health.
Dear friend, what brings you to Moscow?
Well, CIA has a problem, so they asked me for help.
I was thinking that you might... What the hell is this?
- Wash your hands. - I have done!
Wash them again!
Ryan Hutten? So you're meeting the CIA in Paris?
Can you get some interesting information from them?
It's not unlikely.
Hutten was happy with that crap the Russians sent.
All of a sudden, I was a double agent.
Well agent, I don't know about spying. There never was anything classified in that bag.
Both the Ruskies and the Yanks emptied their trash bins straight into it.
Still, things got in motion anyway.
There were even a few who snuffed it, unfortunately.
But then again, that's what people do in cold wars.
Hey, the bag...
Really, you don't say?
People often appear one way, but then they turn out to be someone completely different.
Americas' new president Ronald Reagan, he seemed like a real rascal.
Well, he was one too, so maybe that doesn't apply to all.
This recording...
...confirms what I've always suspected.
He's scared shitless at the thought that we'd tear down the wall.
He knows that if we do-
-the Russians will invade the world-
-and take over without weapons.
When my old friend Popov died, I put my briefcase on the shelf for good.
But his son would come over to visit sometimes.
To tear down such a big wall with just hammers and chisels...
It's a crying shame.
- Here's to dad! - Cheers!
Incredible! They've got cannons all along the east block, and they're chipping away like that.
What's this...? Hello?
Do people stop answering their phone when they turn a hundred?
- Is it Oleg? - You should always have the cell phone with you.
- Well... - Ok, sorry.
Congratulations! What are you up to?
- I'm about to take an afternoon swim. - Afternoon swim?
You're cool as always. Were you celebrated? What are you doing tonight?
Apparently we're fleeing here, however that came about.
- Fleeing? - Yeah, people have died and... and so we are fleeing.
- What the hell Benny, hurry! We need to bail! - We need to pack food and clothes.
- Did Julius call yet? - No, he hasn't.
Ow!
- Did you find something? - Eh, what?
- Regarding the centenarian. - No, no, no-no-no...
We just learned that "The Bucket" Claesson has a brother nearby here.
Ricky is his name. He's seen the centenarian at some place called Sjötorp.
- Check it out. - Sure.
Fuckin' hell, goddammit!
- Is he a Russian then, Oleg? - Oleg, yes, he's a Russian.
- He's travelling all over the world. - Do you have any credentials for him?
Credentials? Well it's Popov's son. I've known him a long time.
Isn't it enough presently, that he wants to help us?
Or do you know any PhD that you'd rather call? Someone who wrote a thesis concerning this?
"Hunted by terrible biker gang" for 90 college credits.
Damned idiot flailing behind us... Damn narrow road...
How fucking hard can it be... Let's see here.
Fuck you!
Holy hell, look at how he's driving!
- What the hell's he doing? - Brake!
What the hell?!
Now the merry-go-rounds are turning. Damn, he was airborne.
- Is that all? - Eh...a gas can.
- With gas. - Do you have your own can?
- No. - Uh-huh.
- And a lighter. - Yeah, one of those?
Yes. We're having a barbecue too.
Meat. I'm mad about barbecuing.
- It's the time of year for that now. - Yes, that's true.
But what?! Shit!
God damn it!
He doesn't seem too talkative. That's a shame, he seemed so eager.
Shit!
- Is he alive or what? - Yes, but he's bleeding a lot from his head.
Hello!
Argh...
But what the hell is this...
- Get in quickly, for Pete's sake! - What the hell's with people?
Swiping someone's car in broad daylight, They should be locked up!
He'll get damned surprised when he opens up the trunk.
- Is there no gauze or something...? - You'll have to use a curtain or something.
- I can't use something dirty. It has to be clean. - Who's that?
- He was run over. - But who is it?
- He's lying there bleeding. - Can't anyone say who he is?
- He was trying to shoot at us. - Yes, he did!
- When he wakes up he's getting his damn bag. - Give away 50 million?!
- Are you stupid, or what? - This never ends. He was about to shoot us! It's not worth it.
- Allan, they want to give away our money. - It damn well isn't our money!
Where are we supposed to go now? - Can you call that Oleg-guy now, Allan?
I found blood, and in my hand I have an empty casing. A gun cartridge.
Fired? Yes.
What? Well of course you'll have to send forensics.
He's waking up now.
There, here's you damned bag and you'll have to leave us alone now!
- What? - You're getting your bag that you've been searching high and low for.
There, we're not calling the cops, just go and leave us alone.
- My bag? - The last thing that happened was that you pursued us...
I think the three of us should have a little talk now.
Just a moment.
It is memoria damnum, amnesia.
- Shit! - There was plenty of that at the home.
- And bedsores. - How long does one of these "damn-memos" last?
Memoria damnum... It could be hours or days.
- The rest of his life if he's unlucky. - We'll put him here and the bag too.
I'm not giving away 50 million to someone who doesn't even know it's his!
That's where the line is drawn!
He said I was meat.
Who was it?
Well he never said but. But he was very careful to express that he was set to kill, both left and right.
You mean kill us?
Yeah yeah, I know orienteers are trustworthy people-
-but can't you see that this is pointless.
It's a crackpot lead. An old man and an elephant out in the woods. Huh!
We're throwing out the bloody guy and his bag! You pack this shit up!
- I'm getting out of here anyway! - Easy now, Gunilla!
First it was real important to share equally and show solidarity when it came to other people’s money.
But now there's no need for consensus anymore.
What do you want, Benny? What do you feel like? Do you want to die here? Because that's what will happen!
No, I don't want that. I want to live.
What kind of a damn question is that for him
- Hello. - Hey, Allan! It's Oleg.
- Oleg! - Listen, we're landing soon.
Where should we fly to? We need to arrange with landing permits. Can you hear me?
Just a minute, Oleg.
Pike, where do you think we should go? We can go anywhere we damn well please.
- I don't know. - Just say the first thing that pops into you head.
- Bali... - Bali? That's good. - Is that a place? - It's an island, for Pete's sake.
Hello? Yeah, Bali!
Behind the cinder deposit? What?
I'm sorry, that sounds a bit strange in my opinion.
But surely I have the right to voice my opinion?
Yes, I will deal with it. I'm on my way.
- Yes, hello. - You were right all along.
These other leads had nothing to do with the centenarian.
Andrén issued an international APB. They've found both the Bolt and the Bucket.
- The Bolt is in Djibouti. - Djibouti, what is that?
- It's a little state in East Africa. - Uh-huh, how did he wind up there?
I have no clue.
Do they have DNA so they know it's him?
No, not yet. The suicide bomber made hotchpotch of the whole square.
Uh-huh. And what happened to the Bucket?
They found him in Riga. He was squashed in a car crusher.
Didn't you have a theory that he got shot in Sjötorp. We found blood there.
- That was elephants blood. - Elephants blood...
The Bucket didn't have any gun wounds, just crush wounds from the crusher.
And according to the forensics there was only elephant blood at Sjötorp.
And what about, what was his name, the Pike, where did he go?
We've got nothing linking him to the centenarian. The warrant is not our jurisdiction.
- So, we've got nothing on no one? - No, nothing criminal at least.
This is incredible.
I've got the centenarian right in front of me now - and an elephant.
No shit! Well, ask him if he wants a ride back to the nursing home.
Over my dead body! Oh no.
- You can let all of this go now. - Ok, I'll drop it.
- I'll drop it. - Despite everything, I've got to say that you've...
...done some damn fine work. We'll see you Monday!
See you Monday. Goodbye.
- Ow! It's very tight. - But it's supposed to be tight.
- But you'll cut off the circulation. - You do it then.
No, I want you to do it, even though you suck at it.
I wonder why we humans are drawn to the sea. The sense of freedom I guess.
What a crash!
It's a nice island this, Bali.
- What the hell, did you get malaria already? - What?
- You're as pale as a sheet. - No...
Things are a bit of a mess right now. I don't know.
But come on, she wants you!
Yeah, I know. It's only...
Things are getting serious now. I need to like, make up my mind.
I'll go and fetch us one more.
- It's not everyone's privilege. - What do you mean?
I mean, to have what you have.
It's a privilege of few.
Go over to her and just say it.
- Do I have to say that it's not everyone's privilege? - No, you make everything so complicated!
Just walk over.
Well, so... I get what you're saying. I was just thinking that...
Well, like I said, it's not everyones privilege.
You never know.
Tomorrow's another day.
- What the hell did you tell him, Allan? - Why is she shouting at you?
Well, there are a lot of people who have shouted at me during my life.
Everyone from conductors to dictators.
The first one to scream because of me was my mother.
I do not remember her screaming, but I’m pretty sure she did.
I probably screamed too.
That’s what new-borns do the first time they get to look around.