(projector whirring)
(light switch clicks; bulb chimes)
(jet engine starts)
(man coughing)
(ominous theme playing)
GUNNER: So lovelies, here we go.
Helmet cam on, LIDAR autofocus works.
Sound? All good.
Okay, fun part first, the legal statement.
It is March 8th, 2023, 7:00 a.m.
We are at 2003 Egelsau
near Stockerau, Lower Austria.
This contract for specialized tracking services
is entered into by and between the client,
Dr. Krystyna Szczepanska representing the IHUW,
Warsaw, Poland, and the contractor,
Relocator Europe, LLC,
represented by its founder and CEO, Gunner S. Holbrook.
And that's me...
Dr. Szczepanska, do you accept?
Yes, you are our truffle pig of choice, Gunner.
GUNNER: Indeed I am.
You know that's what they called me
in the army, Truff?
KRYSTYNA: Of course I know.
You tell me every goddamn time
we work together.
GUNNER: Always a pleasure doing business with you, Krys.
- (Gunner chuckles) - Absolutely.
I mean, I am getting the friends and family discount.
These little piggies are my assistants, Kyle Edward Boll,
and my local contact, Richie Fischvogt.
Say cheese, Richie.
Ah, your positivity is infectious, guys.
(device chirping)
Anyways, here is
all our fancy gear.
Calibrated, ready to rumble.
RICHIE: Getting there.
GUNNER: According to labor laws,
we are equipped with FFP3 masks
and protective suits.
KYLE: The mold situation will most likely be a shitshow.
GUNNER: Hope we won't be huffing and puffing
and blow the house in...
This is my colleague, Magistra Cornelia Dunzinger,
University of Innsbruck.
We hired Mr. Holbrook and his team as experts
in tracking lost, hidden, and potentially fragile goods.
This is the farm of Wolfgang Zinggl,
a retired farmer who disappeared in 2014
at the age of 94.
No one knows what happened to him.
My name is Ernst Bartholdi.
I am the grandson of Mr. Zinggl.
I run a PR boutique in Vienna,
so I'm not here very frequently.
The story of the building and the story of my grandfather
is indeed strange.
He was very fit,
up until his 90s, actually.
But the last years of his life,
he became kookier and kookier, I would call it.
And, uh, one day he disappeared.
So we assume that he got lost doing a walk
in the nearby forests or swamps,
but his body was never found.
Of course, the locals
immediately started spreading ghost stories
or blaming the immigrants, as always.
According to Austrian law, he was declared dead
after five years at the end of 2019.
The remaining family took possession of the building,
but all was delayed
and nothing really happened
up until after the COVID pandemic.
I spent a lot of time here on the farm.
For example, here in the garden:
I built tree houses and things like that.
I really like the property.
I have the keys and, uh...
GUNNER: All right, masks up, final gear check.
Let's roll.
(door creaking)
GUNNER: Hmm...
ERNST: Ah, it's pretty sad
seeing it in this condition.
GUNNER: No power?
Yep. And no water or gas.
GUNNER: What a godawful shit of a fuck.
ERNST: Oh, that's funny!
That's me and my mom.
GUNNER: Seems he was a popular guy...
but pretty messy.
ERNST: Ah, that's him and me at my confirmation.
GUNNER: Yeah, as a recovering Catholic,
I can totally relate.
ERNST: I got my first PC doing it.
Pretty good deal.
KRYSTYNA: Did you ever talk
about politics to your grandparents?
No, that was never a big thing in my family.
We never had a big discussion about it,
especially not the war.
But there were always hints of something.
Just one example.
The first movie I ever saw in the cinema
was E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial.
I was seven years old and I went
with my grandma, Gerti.
That's her.
Of course, I loved it and she was also very impressed
and somewhat overwhelmed.
And she didn't know how to articulate it.
So after the film ended, she looked at me and she nodded.
"Spielberg.
"Hmm.
"Spielberg. Hmm.
A Jew. Yes."
And even as a kid, I found that very weird.
Here is some of the stuff
that I already discovered in the house.
Our family really wants to know what is
behind the secrets around my grandfather's past.
And we want to help reveal whatever he probably hid.
That's him.
I discovered it
in one of the drawers over there.
KRYSTYNA: What we found out is that Mr. Zinggl
was stationed at the Nazi concentration camp,
Chelmno, German Kulmhof, near Lodz, Poland.
Chelmno was the first extermination camp.
It stands out in the history of the camps
because it served as a model.
They tested it all there.
They experimented.
For example, the use of gas vans.
They piped exhaust fumes, carbon monoxide,
into the enclosed vehicle through a special tube.
This way, they could cheaply kill 40 to 60 people at a time.
In Chelmno, they developed
the logistical framework for Auschwitz.
And Mr. Zinggl had a very active part in this.
ERNST: That's his...
(in German)
KRYSTYNA (in English): A postwar
veterans organization.
ERNST: He kept it on his nightstand
until the very end.
GUNNER: Yeah, looks like he was into keeping souvenirs.
KRYSTYNA: That's why we are here.
As part of Mr. Zinggl's job
at the concentration camp,
he seems to have stashed away
a bunch of documents
and he hid them in a box somewhere.
We think the box contains diaries
with priceless historic information.
What Zinggl has seen, done, collected
could be really important.
For example, there may be information
about some yet undiscovered mass graves.
This is important, as the Germans
forced Jewish prisoners to exhume and cremate
any remaining corpses from the mass graves,
effectively destroying evidence of mass murder operations.
But on paper, the ghosts have voices.
(film camera whirring)
GUNNER: We are at the edge of the Danube flood plains.
(device beeping)
It's humid as fuck.
KYLE: Wow.
GUNNER: Oh, I smell something
through the mask.
Jesus, what the fuck?
ERNST: Yeah, at some point in his early 90s,
he started collecting his urine.
He bottled it by calendar week.
Wait, that's an entire week's worth of piss?
ERNST (chuckles): Don't ask me.
GUNNER: All right, it's trophy trunk truffle time.
Let's turn this place upside down.
GUNNER (in German accent): Sing us a song...
you're the piano man.
(Gunner laughs)
(light dramatic theme playing)
(groans)
KRYSTYNA (in German):
(camera shutter clicks)
KRYSTYNA (in German):
(door creaks)
GUNNER: Hey, Boll,
that's something right up your alley.
KYLE: The laxative with the smell of ripe bananas.
Cool.
(sensor beeping)
GUNNER: Okay, I'm gonna check the courtyard.
RICHIE: Okay.
(dog barking in distance)
This door...
He would, uh, hang live pigs
on that door to castrate them.
Next to it, on the ground,
bunch of cats were waiting to grab a testicle.
They loved it, really.
(chuckles) Yeah.
GUNNER: What the fuck are you doing?
Hey, Fischvogt, if you really find that shit box
in that fucking hay, I'll buy you a Bacardi.
- (sensor beeping) - RICHIE: Yeah, I don't know.
Hey, Kyle!
GUNNER: Fifteen man on a dead man's chest.
GUNNER: Dead Nazi's.
ERNST: Dead Nazi's...
GUNNER AND ERNST: ...on a dead Nazi's chest.
♪ Yo-ho-ho And a bottle of rum! ♪
♪ Drink and a devil Be done with the rest ♪
♪ Yo-ho-ho And a bottle of rum! ♪
GUNNER: Arr...
(in German)
(in English ) Oh, well...
Nothing important, nothing important.
Just talking about my relationship
to my grandfather.
And what can I say, it wasn't bad.
I mean, he was never... kinda like,
he didn't hit me or anything, so you know,
he was-- he was a nice guy.
Uh, but it was always clear whose brainchild he was.
And most of the time he couldn't really say
what he wanted to say, I suppose.
But every now and then he tried.
So he would say stuff like, "Oh, the evil zionists,"
because he knew he could say something like that.
Or "the poor Palestinians."
And then he would mumble in his beard,
something like, you know, like,
"Oh, if we only had six more months,
just six more months."
(dry chuckle)
Yeah. Family.
(scoffs, chuckles)
Well...
(dog barks in distance)
KRYSTYNA (in German):
(in English) Sorry.
GUNNER (in English): It's all right.
GUNNER: Hmm.
Why didn't he wear his dentures
for his last walk in the woods?
Ah, never thought of that before.
That's my first artwork.
Uh...
(in German)
GUNNER: What about the outhouse?
I can't remember a time
when we didn't have running water
here at the farm, but my grandpa never used
the toilet inside,
so he always went outside to the "Plumpsklo."
GUNNER: So...
(in German)
(in English) ...also had a fetish for latrines?
ERNST: Okay.
GUNNER: Um, I think
this is a job for Fischvogt.
(chainsaw buzzing)
Yep.
(device powers up)
(classical theme playing)
(Gunner exclaims)
- It's the Turd Reich. - Oh, come on.
(laughing) Look-- Look at you guys.
Anyway, not a goddamn thing down there-- nada, zilch.
ERNST: Grandpa kept it a secret,
but over the years,
he had been in contact with ultra right people
in Sweden, South America, the U.S., everywhere.
Unpleasant folks, as you can imagine.
- Sometimes, I'd hear him... - (phone ringing)
...on the phone, arguing and cursing.
He believed that many had abandoned the cause,
thinking they were just into nostalgia
and Nazi souvenirs.
One of his favorite sayings was...
(speaks German)
(in English) "You can't win a war with them."
Heh. Well...
in the end, he was so disappointed
that he shifted his energy to other things,
like alternative medicine and stuff.
Ah, well, we should also check out the basement.
KYLE: Yeah, that's not creepy at all.
(groans)
KRYSTYNA: Oh, wow.
Could it be?
GUNNER: How is that...
So that's his other secret stash.
Fuck this.
Time for lunch.
How's life?
GUNNER: Well, busy.
Granada last autumn, now here, Estonia in June.
It's crazy.
Estonia, wow.
It's all one big Easter egg hunt, isn't it?
GUNNER (laughs): Yeah, you know.
Nazi boxes, Francoist gold, French war crimes on film,
all the same, right?
Just truffles.
(in German)
(Fredi grunts in agreement)
FREDI:
- ERNST: - GUNNER (in English): Thanks.
FREDI:
Uh-huh.
KRYSTYNA (in English): Mr. Zinggl supposedly hid
some important Nazi documents from the war.
We are trying to find it, help the victims.
(in English) Wolfi, yeah,
was no Nazi, yeah?
(in German)
Nazi. Him a Nazi, Nazi, Nazi.
(scoffs)
GUNNER (in English): Now wait, maybe he can help us.
Wouldn't the universities agree to a finder's fee?
(in English) Finder's fee? Good, good, good.
Yes, it can help, and help.
(in English) You know Columbo? You know?
(in German)
GUNNER (in English): I'm just trying to enjoy my lunch.
(dog barking in distance)
(in German) Scroll.
ERNST:
FREDI:
(in German, Spanish, English)
(in German)
- (object crashes) - GUNNER: Wow.
(gate creaking)
GUNNER (in English): Oh, wow.
You-- You didn't know about this?
ERNST: Well, I don't have a key for that one...
(knocks on door)
Should I get the chainsaw?
(scoffs) Chainsaw?
(in German)
(Fredi grunts)
- KRYSTYNA: - FREDI:
GUNNER (in English): Oh, that's bad! Oh, that's bad!
- ERNST (in German): - GUNNER (in English): Oh, man.
Ah.
GUNNER: Krystyna, we'll both go first and scout it out.
Rest of you, stay put.
GUNNER: Wow, it's pretty big.
Ah, ah, shit.
I really should get a new flashlight.
Look at that.
Brown looks as dry as a desert.
(sensor beeps)
Is the thing really working?
GUNNER: Yeah, Fischvogt calibrated it.
KRYSTYNA: Humidity is almost zero.
GUNNER: Let's check out the tunnel.
Careful, ceiling's real low.
(ominous theme playing)
GUNNER: Can you hear that?
KRYSTYNA: There's a draft coming out of the pipe.
GUNNER: That's unusual.
We might have found something.
KRYSTYNA: It's wet.
Is that condensation?
GUNNER: I'm beginning to see a pattern here.
Come on, that's u--
That's useless, come on.
All right, I'm gonna go get some shovels.
GUNNER: She's digging with her hands.
I have to get some shovels.
- ERNST: What did you find? - (Gunner sighs)
GUNNER: Strange pipe. Could be
a hidden room down there, you never know.
Really?
GUNNER: I've seen weirder shit
in my line of work.
The fuck?
Krystyna, turn your flashlight on,
I can't see shit.
(ominous theme playing)
Krystyna.
Krystyna!
Hey.
Wh-- Hey, what--
What--what's the matter? What is it?
- (sobbing) - Come here, come over here.
Let me take a look at that.
Hey, hold on, just calm down, Krystyna.
- Krystyna, wait. Wait a sec. - (screaming)
Stop. Wait, calm down.
Hey. Hey.
- (Cornelia screams) - Whoa!
Mrs. Dunzinger, are you okay?
Fuck. Are you fucking kidding me?
Oh, my shit.
Oh, fucking hell.
Jesus... Fucking fu...
(metallic clang)
GUNNER: I like this spot.
The water is calm.
Ironically, heh, this is also the place
where they think Zinggl disappeared.
Last night I dreamt that he stared at me
out of the water.
...fucking wonder.
I spent all of yesterday looking through terabytes
of footage from March.
It's all documented, yet the more I watch it,
the more it feels like a nightmare.
It was three months ago, but it feels like...
I don't know, like it never happened.
But it did.
What happened to Krystyna is real.
What happened to poor Dunzinger is real.
What the whole thing did to me is real.
I started editing this video.
Please consider it a form of associative diary,
you know, a visual way to sort my memories.
(chuckling) So forgive me, but it won't pass
the Bechdel test.
Found some interesting music online,
and I use it as a backdrop for my journal.
I decided not to include footage
from the hospital,
and the first conversations
with Krystyna,
out of respect for her and her privacy.
(sighs) What a shitshow.
Nice.
Krystyna couldn't properly speak,
had spasms, attacked hospital personnel.
She even tried to kill herself
by bashing her head against a mirror.
They restrained her and pumped her full of drugs.
Eh, that helped.
Her relatives brought her back to Poland.
We have a history.
So I visited her in Warsaw as often as I could,
and when I couldn't, I would call her.
Half the time, she's a vegetable.
- A furious vegetable. - (Krystyna screams)
The whole case seriously affected my business.
The Estonia gig should happen in two weeks, fingers crossed.
It still isn't clear if they want to hire
me and my team.
Met Fischvogt in Vienna.
He's still keen on making it happen, I understand.
Gotta pay the bills.
I borrowed Fischvogt's car.
Told him I would return it after two days.
I use it as my hidden base camp.
I'm just a half a mile from Egelsau,
but nobody will look for me here.
- (zipper rasps) - Look at that.
(dog barking in distance)
Feels like walking into enemy territory.
Once a grunt, always a grunt.
Dunziger's relatives are trying to paint it all
as criminal negligence.
That fucker Bartholdi is siding with them.
I am not interested in going to prison
in fucking Schnitzelland.
(phone beeps; call ringing)
- KRYSTYNA: Gunner? - GUNNER: Yeah?
- Are you there? - Yes.
KRYSTYNA: It's so dark.
I can't see you.
We're on the phone, Krystyna, just audio.
I'm at the house with the pipe.
Why weren't you at the train station?
What?
We wanted to meet there.
No. You're at home in Warsaw.
I'm back at Egelsau.
Ohh, how silly of me.
That asshole Weinhappl is outside.
He's always doing farmer shit.
The place is completely off limits.
Krystyna.
Yes.
I'm here now, yes.
(sobbing) I was scared.
I am scared, Gunner.
Can I record this conversation?
(Krystyna sobbing)
Okay, it's okay. Really.
Now, for the sake of finding out what happened to you,
just tell me again what happened.
What? Why?
I just need to make sense of it.
(sobbing continues)
Let's talk about it.
You Americans
always want to talk.
I wanted to get away from the pipe.
From what I did.
Why? What did you do?
Horrible things.
Well, wait, you mean Dunzinger?
Bodies! Bodies everywhere.
I loved it.
It made me happy.
Wait. Yes, you didn't like her,
but it was an accident.
(Krystyna laughing)
Bodies!
Wait, calm down, calm down.
The police didn't find anything.
I mean, they didn't really look, but--
(in Polish) A job well done.
(whispering in English) No tattoos on the skin.
We didn't have to tattoo.
(normal voice) The vans took care of things quick,
and the helpful old man with the Jaeger pipe.
What was his name?
The way he would hold their babies
as they exit the train cars
and then sweet-talked them into the vans
like an old grandfather.
No need for tattoos, just white skin.
Body's like blank paper.
Like paperwork slipped into a file.
(call beeps off)
GUNNER: Oh, fuck.
I have to do my own research.
(scoffs) Boll usually does this.
He's way better at it.
It's like I have two left hands.
My motor skills are fucked.
Probably toxin.
Gas, Kuwait, Gulf War Syndrome.
It's a vertigo. I never got treated.
Ah, shit. Walked it off.
Jesus!
Eh?
(in German)
GUNNER (in English): Oh, Mr. Weinhappl.
(in English) Yeah...
I am Mr. Weinhappl.
(owl hoots)
And you?
(speaks German)
(in English) You are Gunner Holbrook, right?
I filled a lot of forms when I was at the police
with your stupid name on it.
GUNNER: Yeah, yeah, sorry.
(in German)
(in English) Where's Ernst?
GUNNER: He's not here.
He's not here? What?
GUNNER: He doesn't need to be here.
No, you need to understand, seriously.
Huh?
(in English) I'll call him immediately.
GUNNER: No, wait a second.
(in German)
- Wait-- Hold on. - (speaks German)
(call ringing)
ERNST (in German):
FREDI:
ERNST:
FREDI:
ERNST:
- ERNST: Holbrook! - FREDI: Yeah.
ERNST (in English): What the hell are you doing?
GUNNER: I want to continue the search.
- ERNST: The fuck? - GUNNER: This doesn't have
to involve you, understand?
Are you a moron?
Dunzinger died on my property!
I was there.
It fucking involves me, okay?
GUNNER: You told me to stand down,
but the mission isn't complete.
That's all this is.
No, no, you stay
the hell away, Holbrook!
ERNST (in German):
- (phone beeps off) - (speaks German)
(in English) And you, Holbrook, you leave now.
It's getting cold.
You know why? Huh?
(in German and English)
(in English) You know them?
(in German)
- GUNNER (in English): Shit. - (in English) Come on.
Go, leave.
FREDI (in German):
GUNNER (in English): To quote Jimmy Buffett,
"My head hurts, my feet stink, and I don't love Jesus."
(pop music ring tone plays)
GUNNER: Nah.
(notification dings)
What was Krystyna saying about tattoos and bodies?
That was strange.
When I was 19, I enlisted
and they shipped me to the desert,
and all my buddies got inked.
This Marine I knew, I can't remember his name,
from West Virginia had a tattoo on his side,
right out where anyone could see it,
of Elmer Fuds saying...
(as Elmer Fudd) "Where did that wascally wabbit go?"
Rabbit tracks leading right to his asshole. Heh.
Stupid shit people do to stay alive, stay sane.
We are all dogs in God's hot car.
(somber theme playing)
Fuck.
Weinhappl was in my dream last night.
I locked him in the back of a truck,
ran an exhaust pipe into the box,
and drove around till I killed him.
Fuck.
As a kid, I asked a priest
if dreams need confessing.
Now, this one would have topped the list.
Fuck me with a shovel.
I gotta stay frosty.
I need to wait this out.
(pop music ring tone plays)
Hey, Piggly Wiggly.
KYLE: Hey man, it's been too long.
How are you, where are you?
I'm good, man. You?
Heh. You sound a little weird, you feeling okay?
Hiding in a fodder silo.
Sweet. I tried calling a few times, where you been?
Don't get me started.
How about Krystyna?
Ah, not good.
Fischvogt and I went to Dunzinger's funeral.
Yeah, he told me.
It was the day they moved Krystyna back to Warsaw,
so I couldn't attend.
Wait, are you two back together?
No, it's complicated.
(laughs) You really like her, don't you?
Yeah, you know me, I always fall for the crazy one.
Heh, tell me about it.
Well, speaking of,
I'm actually dating Dunzinger's cousin.
What the fuck?
I know, right?
Her name's Edith, we met
at the funeral-- listen to this--
she gave me a B.J. at the wake,
so, uh, two ladies went down that day.
Jesus, Boll.
(laughs) Right?
We just got back from Croatia.
Croatia?
Goddamn, the body on her.
Yeah, where are you now?
Ah, hell on earth, Frankfurt. You?
Have you talked to Bartholdi?
Fuck no.
Listen, would you
wanna help me finish this Egelsau mission?
What Egelsau mission, man? It's a bust.
You still owe me money for it. What about Estonia?
Yeah, sure, okay. Heh.
It's just, look, we barely even got started at Egelsau,
and it could be something major. Just doesn't feel right.
I know, man, but come on, the bitch died in there.
(Edith speaks German in background on phone call)
KYLE (in English): Okay, just a second. What?
- EDITH: What the fuck is-- - KYLE: No, no, I'm not talking
about her, it's just an American saying, okay.
Uh, okay, hold on, hold on.
Dude, I gotta call you back tomorrow, okay?
Um, uh, just try to get your shit together, yeah...
make Estonia happen, okay? Relax.
Binge Ted Lasso or someth-- I am talking!
I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay? Bye.
(call beeps off)
(fly buzzing)
RICHIE (on recording): Hey, what the hell, man?
I need my fucking car! I told you, man!
I had to pay my uncle a cab!
(call beeps off)
GUNNER: What a fucktard.
(scoffs) That's what Pops
would have said: "What a fucktard." Heh.
When I was 13, he taught me how to hotwire cars.
We borrowed a car and went to Chuck E. Cheese,
best birthday ever, man.
First time I stole a car, like as an adult,
was in Bosnia.
Smelled like a ruptured pancreas.
The car, I mean.
And Bosnia.
You don't ask for permission or forgiveness,
you ask for oblivion.
Headlamp on.
Oh, hey, little friend.
At least someone calls this goddamn cellar home.
There you go, enjoy.
(mouse squeaking)
Okay, mousey, let's do this.
(sensor beeping)
(device powers up)
(pop music ring tone plays)
- Hey, Krystyna. - KRYSTYNA: You're there.
Yeah, heh, you're calling me at the right moment.
(Krystyna sobbing on call)
The time is 23 minutes past midnight
on June 2nd, 2023.
I'm inserting the borescope into the pipe.
I have Dr. Krystyna Szczepanska with me on the phone,
to offer her expertise on any discoveries I may make.
Okay, the borescope is approximately
nine feet into the pipe.
This section here appears continuous
with the metal pipe at the access point.
(sobbing continues)
Zinggl built this all by himself.
At his age, it must have taken months or years.
Calm down, Krystyna.
Okay, it's all good.
Holy shit!
There was a fucking eye.
KRYSTYNA: He's here. It's him.
GUNNER: It is-- It's--it's gone.
But--but there is a hole where the eye was.
A cavity.
- There is water in it. - KRYSTYNA: Don't touch it!
(Krystyna whimpering)
GUNNER: Taking a sample of the water.
GUNNER: Oh, God, I'm dizzy.
- Fuck. - (Krystyna groans)
GUNNER: Shit.
(whimpering continues)
GUNNER: I'm remembering something, Krystyna.
Strange memories.
When we came here with the team, to this fucking place,
was that really your first time here?
KRYSTYNA: Yes. No.
Did you know about this place, Krystyna?
I don't know.
Please, tell me.
You know something.
I don't know.
I don't remember being there.
And you... And you... And...
And it all came back, and...
(gasps) I'm scared! Don't you understand?
I'm not scared. I should be freaking out.
I mean... Jesus, but I'm not.
You lie.
I saw you and you are scared.
When?
When did you see me?
In the pipe.
What?
What time is it?
- GUNNER: What? - KRYSTYNA: What time is it?
And the date?
It's 1:10 a.m. on 6/2/23. Why?
KRYSTYNA (in German):
(in English) Listen to the historian!
(light dramatic theme playing)
GUNNER: I was hoping for Occam's razor.
A logical explanation like,
Weinhappl and Opa Zinggl
throwing some epic parties in the cellar.
(in German)
GUNNER: Complete with Nazi age play,
golden showers, bottle fisting
and sucking a metric shit-ton of drugs
out of each other's holes.
All seeping into the ground, affecting us.
To be certain, I take a urine sample.
But I have it on video.
An eye is like a dam.
It's a floodgate.
If I close my eyes, I'm safe,
but I can't keep them closed forever.
Something always seeps in,
penetrating your mind, accumulating inside.
As a kid, when Pops
was still in his stoner days,
thanks to Vietnam,
he always said that water knows,
that water has a memory.
What can I say?
He drowned in a jacuzzi.
I wonder what the water knew about him
after he emptied his bowels into it.
Holbrook family tragedies aside,
maybe he was right after all.
♪ Gonna lay down My sword and shield ♪
♪ Down by the riverside ♪
(Gunner scatting)
All right, little Mario going down the pipe,
all for his princess.
Oh, geez, what the hell, that's weird.
That was almost effortless.
Little princess just squirted.
(pop music ring tone plays)
GUNNER: Uh-huh.
Is this even pure water?
Does it contain chemicals, bacteria?
Let's see what it does when you boil it.
If you told Wolfgang Zinggl to stop killing Jews,
he'd think you were the one in the wrong.
I never felt that way about what I did
for the good old U.S. of A, you know?
If you're a goomba, then Mario is a mass murderer.
Freakin' Mario, with his little side eye
as he goes down the pipe. Shade.
Hmm, nothing, just water.
Next step, freezing it.
For lack of a better idea, I'll do it at the supermarket.
KRYSTYNA (over phone): What are you doing?
Stay away from the water, Gunner!
Please, please listen to me.
Don't touch it!
(call beeps off)
What do I do with you, pipe squirt?
(call ringing out)
KRYSTYNA: Do you remember when we first met
at the job in Germany?
GUNNER: Of course I do.
What a lovely weekend.
Right after, you needed to go to Florida.
You sent me a video from the motel you stayed at.
You were totally excited
about the stupid Waffle House slippers you got.
You thought the Waffle House was a strip club.
(Gunner laughs) That was funny.
I sent you a message that I missed you.
You jumped on a plane and came to me, just like that.
It was a great time.
It was... We had the best time.
Focus on that and come to me right now.
Stop what you are doing in that awful cellar.
- Stop now! - (train crossing alarm)
We can meet at the train station.
What train station?
The train station!
Why--why--why didn't you come to the train station?
KRYSTYNA: What was that? What are you doing?
- I have a theory. - KRYSTYNA: What theory?
Gunner, there's no theory.
Or call it a gut feeling, that's what it is.
Either I'm right
or I'm going out of my fucking head.
Listen to me, the water is bad.
Gunner, Gunner, empty it out.
Come back here.
I need my little truffle pig.
There's things you don't know about me, Krystyna.
If you really knew me, you'd be scared.
I have to do this.
Please, please don't.
You have to fight it.
I'm fighting!
You can too.
This is it.
This is the truffle, Krystyna.
KRYSTYNA (in German):
I thought that it would taste horrible,
but no, it tastes salty, like tears.
You are so lost, little piggy.
(Krystyna chuckles)
Constipated little piggy.
Am I right?
(Krystyna sobbing)
Idiot!
Where is my car? Where is my car?
Where is my fucking car?
Where is my fucking...car?
GUNNER: In the forest, you fuckhead.
RICHIE: Where are my keys?
Fuck you. Fuck. Fuck.
You stole my car.
You fucked up the Estonia job.
- Look at you. - (Krystyna whimpering on call)
Is this Krystyna? This poor woman?
Leave her alone.
(blow strikes; body thumps)
KRYSTYNA: I'm still here, my poor little baby.
(Fredi grunting)
(in German)
(in English) Do you know what I don't like?
Sitting in the sun and drinking an iced latte
with my girlfriend and getting a phone call
that you're still trespassing on my property!
The fuck?
FREDI (in German):
(in English) I want you out of here! You are a pest!
GUNNER (in German accent): Hey now, calm down.
It's okay to share your playhouse.
I understand how you feel, but it's important
to learn how to share and play nicely with others.
(in German)
ERNST (in English): Go!
GUNNER: I know it is tough, but sharing
is an important part of growing up.
Why don't we talk to those kids, eh?
And see if you can all have fun together.
(in German)
(in English) I will call the police!
Don't you say? What about I tell them
what happened to my...
- (in German) - WOMAN: Huh?
GUNNER:
you found it in the piano,
where I hid it.
You sold it
to those treacherous cocksuckers
in Uruguay for thousands of schillings,
to waste on your degenerate excuse of a company.
(in German)
GUNNER (in English): Look at you and your...
(in German)
GUNNER (in English): Do we understand each other?
(in English) I think we do.
GUNNER: Why don't you let Mr. Holbrook
play in your playhouse?
He needs a place to work and rest.
ERNST: My container?
GUNNER: The playhouse.
- Yes? - No.
GUNNER: Ernsti!
Okay. But no words about Uruguay.
GUNNER (normal voice): What the...? Wait. Oh, God.
Uruguay? What about Uruguay?
Are you mocking me, you fucker?
You can stay in the container, yeah,
but don't touch the Lancia!
(in German)
GUNNER: Hmph.
(n English) In case you need anything,
yeah, I have Telegram, eh.
(Gunner grunts)
What the hell just happened to me?
(Krystyna breathing and vocalizing)
GUNNER: I am dead tired.
GUNNER (in German accent): You can rest later, soldier.
I need you to pay me a visit.
GUNNER (in German):
(Krystyna speaking German on phone call indistinctly)
GUNNER (in English): The fuck am I doing?
FREDI (in English): Friend, hey, hello, hello.
Hey, hey, where are your clothes, huh?
What is this?
(in German)
Hey, Holbrook...
(Gunner laughs)
Hey, Holbrook! Holbrook!
(Gunner groans)
(scoffs)
(in German)
(in English) What did you do to my car?
- (Gunner retches) - RICHIE (in German):
(in English) These are my new Adidas.
(Gunner retching)
(in German)
(Gunner coughs)
(chuckles)
(Gunner clears throat)
FREDI:
(Gunner coughs)
(in English) Are you diabetes, huh?
(in German)
RICHIE: Ahh...
FREDI:
GUNNER: Wasser.
(in English) Go down. Go down. Cool down.
Cool down. Come, go, Holbrook. Cool down.
FREDI (in German):
RICHIE:
FREDI:
GUNNER (in English): I need to cleanse myself.
(coughs)
(groans, then gasps)
This water doesn't cleanse.
It burns.
(groaning)
(Richie and Fredi speaking nearby)
(engine struggles and starts)
(engine turns off)
Ugh!
(vocalizing)
- RICHIE: - FREDI:
(in English) Listen, Holbrook...
(in English) And you wash yourself, you clean yourself.
(in German)
GUNNER:
RICHIE:
GUNNER (in English): We wanted to meet at the train station.
God then said, "What have you done?
"Your brother's blood
"cries out to me from the ground.
"Now you are banned
"from the ground.
"It's bad to receive
your brother's blood from your hand."
(train engine chugging)
(Gunner groans)
Discovered a fresh trail to Zinggl's farmhouse.
(dog barks in distance)
(dramatic theme playing)
When I checked the helmet footage,
I realized it was me who did that.
In the dead of night.
It's all a bit of a blur here
in my little house on the prairie.
Did I really get a booty call from the pipe?
Puke blood?
Mutilate myself?
Hell, I even got hemorrhoids.
Maybe I should not have drunk the water.
Or maybe it is Gulf War Syndrome biting my ass again.
And what about that stuff I told Bartholdi?
I cannot confirm any of the shit I babbled.
Bartholdi has a lucrative snowflake business.
Does PR for renewable energy and some lefty NGOs,
even spear-headed a major campaign
for the Austrian Green Party.
But why do I know of Nueva Alemania?
(scoffs)
He never mentioned it.
Why do I know the names of the guys who run it?
I need facts.
And rest.
(dog barks in distance)
(insect chirps)
(bird chirping)
I had a hunch.
- I remembered something. - (zipper rasps)
So I checked the car.
And I found this.
A hidden letter in the pipe.
GUNNER: "You sold it to those treacherous cocksuckers
in Uruguay!"
Bartholdi.
That fucker.
(call ringing)
MAN'S VOICE (in German):
(beeps)
I found proof.
But it seems the memories dissolve.
I need to solidify them.
Don't worry.
But it is key to move into the cellar.
Plus, it's gonna be the bong room I never had.
Heh. You know, Pop's basement...
...minus Pops.
(call beeps off)
(owl hooting in distance)
My entrenchment tool.
I should probably ditch it.
(chuckles)
Military puns are the worst.
After my stint in Kuwait,
my little strategic transfer of equipment,
I got a dishonorable discharge
and a lousy parting gift from my buddies.
I was only 20.
The army washed their hands of me.
I wasn't finished fighting.
So off to Bosnia I went,
where the Croatians were hiring mercenaries.
And people hiring mercenaries
aren't the most discerning employers.
There was this merc,
Quarnstrom,
a neo-Nazi from Norway.
He'd blast Burzum, all day every day.
We were approaching this house,
a peaceful farmhouse,
much like here.
It was summertime, windows open,
no sign of conflict nearby.
Suddenly the fucker lobs a grenade through the window.
Chaos ensues, women screaming...
- a baby crying. - (woman screaming; baby crying)
He strides in,
gunfire erupts,
and that baby,
it just...popped,
turned inside out.
Moments later,
he strolls out,
unfazed, as if nothing had occurred.
Weinhappl is a supportive fella.
I brought you some cookies.
- GUNNER: Oh. - They are from my wife.
(in German)
GUNNER (in English): Thank you. What do I owe you?
Owe you? You want to insult me, or what? Huh?
You are my new neighbor.
I was a little bit worried
after your, uh, striptease
and how you behaved in the woods,
about your blood sugar level.
(in German)
GUNNER (in English): Weinhappl would be amazed
how many times I fucked around
without finding a single thing out.
Lost count of how many people I killed.
But none were under 13.
Fucking Bosnia!
(light dramatic theme playing)
It's okay, little buddy.
We're in this together.
For the record:
I am peeing less and less,
and I haven't taken a dump in several days.
Should get some of Zinggl's banana pills. Heh.
I discovered a plastic bag
with Zinggl's neatly folded clothes,
buried in the dirt.
A supermarket receipt from the week he vanished
- was in one of the pockets. - (camera shutter clicking)
So, as I see it, in late 2014,
he left home, without his false teeth,
arrived here, undressed,
buried his clothes in the cellar,
and then...
The fuck?
Shit.
- (small object strikes, rattles) - Oh! Shit.
(objects crash and shatter)
(blow strikes; Gunner grunts)
(glass shatters)
GUNNER: Whoa! Jesus.
Hey, Holbrook...
GUNNER: Hmm. How are you?
Shut up and listen.
I want you out of my cellar.
I want you out of my business.
But first, you give me whatever video footage you've got.
It's mine. Understand?
GUNNER: Afraid I can't do that.
Can't do?
I tell you what you can't do.
Stop fucking up my life.
This whole Nazi box thing
should have been a PR stunt for me, for my company.
Fuck. To stick it
to Magic Margarine, my competitors.
They organized this Anne Frank thing, yeah?
They hired B-list celebrities
to read the book in a podcast.
How fucking lame is that?
And they won the CCA Golden Award for it!
GUNNER: The what?
The CCA Gold Award,
the Creative Club Austria Gold Award!
I want one, too,
with something really cool,
with real historians, yeah.
With a real treasure hunt, yeah.
That's failing,
but also so tragic.
Easy, peasy, wonderful.
But it turned into a shit fest.
That fucking bitch that died.
That is bad storytelling.
And you found out about Uruguay.
Hand me over the footage,
and I'll fix it in post.
GUNNER: Nope.
I know stuff about you.
I know--woah...
Kuwait!
GUNNER: Yeah? So what?
Stealing water.
GUNNER: That's right, my squad
was in the fucking desert.
So yeah, I stole water.
(laughs)
Dishonorable discharge.
And then,
Bosnia!
War crimes.
GUNNER: Now that's just rude.
I'll put your ass
on fucking Wikipedia,
you criminal, with citations!
I have enough dirt on you
to convince that girlfriend
of yours, Krystyna.
- GUNNER: Come again? - Warsaw is...
just a six hour drive.
GUNNER: Right. In your Tesla.
(chuckles) That's like what, 20 charges?
I will ruin you.
You will be working at fucking Subway!
GUNNER: A true sandwich artist.
- (grunts in frustration) - GUNNER: Look.
I think the physiognomy of my fingers is changing.
Sometimes they're thick, almost swollen.
Other times they're unnaturally thin.
My skin is tight.
I also lost 30 pounds.
Maybe it's part of the water cycle down here.
Hmm?
You are fucking crazy!
- GUNNER: I'm not leaving. - Big mistake.
GUNNER: You know what Bartholdi?
Fuck you!
You want war crimes?
I'll show you war crimes.
(in German)
(in English, with German accent) Ernsti, you were always...
(in German)
(Gunner laughs)
(mouse squeaks)
(normal voice) Little friend?
Yes, I know.
You heard what the mean man Bartholdi said about me.
Oh, okay. Thank you.
You don't tell anyone
about my little indiscretions
and I won't tell them
about the bubonic plague.
Deal?
Deal.
♪ As I walk down ♪
♪ The streets of... ♪
(humming)
♪ I spied a young cowboy ♪
♪ Wrapped up In white linen ♪
♪ Wrapped up in white linen ♪
♪ As cold as the clay ♪
♪ Oh, beat the drums slowly ♪
♪ And play the fife lowly ♪
♪ Sing the death march ♪
♪ And you carry me along ♪
I need to map this out.
♪ Take me to the valley ♪
♪ There lay the sod o'er me ♪
♪ I'm a young cowboy ♪
♪ Know I've done ♪
♪ I see by your outfit ♪
♪ That you are a cowboy ♪
♪ These words you did say ♪
♪ As I boldly walked by ♪
♪ Come sit down beside me ♪
♪ And hear my sad story ♪
♪ Got shot in the breast ♪
♪ And I know I must die. ♪
Dead end.
(groans) Oh, my back. Ugh.
Oh!
(grunts)
(voicemail beeps)
Krystyna, call me back.
I've sent you numbers in a text.
I dreamt I tattooed them on a kid with a rusty nail.
It cried, spat foam, but I persisted.
Does this mean anything to you?
(call beeps off)
Oh, God.
Need a smoke.
(dramatic theme playing)
The Danube isn't blue.
It's shit brown.
(pop music ring tone plays)
KRYSTYNA: Where are you?
I waited for you at the train station.
GUNNER: Listen, I'm getting closer.
Did you check the numbers I texted you?
Is it true, Gunner?
Did you hurt those people in Bosnia?
Uh, no. I...
Yes, I killed people.
They paid me, and I killed...
Most of them were soldiers.
Most?
It's like you said:
bodies.
What are you talking about?
You have to get out of there, now!
(Gunner laughs maniacally)
Gunner!
Gunner, answer me please!
Gunner.
(knocking on wood door)
Gunner, there's someone at the door.
ERNST: Surprise, Krystyna!
GUNNER: Bartholdi! You slime wanker.
ERNST: My little kid-killing war criminal.
KRYSTYNA (hysterical): Gunner! Gunner!
ERNST: "Gunner! Gunner! Gunner!"
Gunner, you know exactly what I want.
I want your compliance!
GUNNER: Never! No!
(Krystyna hysterically crying)
GUNNER: Krystyna, are you okay?
ERNST: Leave the past where it is!
GUNNER: You really think you can get away with this?
Threatening her like that?
ERNST: Who is going to believe you? Huh?
Look at you!
Munchkin Mangler at Lady Mongo!
I did a poster campaign for Amnesty International!
GUNNER: Eh, he's too chicken shit.
He won't harm you, Krystyna.
ERNST: Don't bet on it, Krystyna!
(crying continues)
This disrespect has to end!
Or I will make it hurt.
KRYSTYNA (gasps): When I first touched the pipe...
(gasping)
...it was too much!
ERNST: Shut up!
KRYSTYNA: And suddenly, I--
I was the one who did it!
My--my hands, my thoughts,
were his hands, his thoughts!
ERNST: Shut up!
KRYSTYNA: It broke me,
but--but maybe you can handle it.
ERNST: You cunt!
GUNNER (in German accent): Ernsti!
You wouldn't have been able
to kill a single Jew!
Not even a kid!
You are not my blood!
(in German)
(call beeps off)
(dramatic theme playing)
GUNNER (in German):
(in English with normal voice) There is no bottom.
No bottom to what people do to one another.
(in German accent) We are all in deep water.
Yes?
(grunts)
They used human remains as fertilizer
in the SS vegetable garden.
Nutrients and water make life.
(in German)
(soldiers cheering intermittently)
- Storm, storm, storm! - (door creaks open)
The hell?
(groans)
(in English) Hey, hey, hey, stop playing around.
I brought you some cookies.
(death metal ring tone plays)
(phone chimes)
(in German)
GUNNER (in German accent): The greatest traitor
is the Holocaust denier!
He insults the cunning of the German people...
(in German)
(in English) Eat your cookies, man. Okay?
Eat your cookies.
(normal voice) This URL is way too long.
(scoffs)
- (bells ringing) - GUNNER (in German):
(in English) Some German words are so long,
they have perspective.
(in German accent) Enough daydreaming...
(in German)
Huh?
Bring me your pet.
I'd like to clarify some things.
(normal voice) Oh, okay.
Okay, mousy.
Let's do this.
(water rushing)
(squeaks)
(Gunner groans)
(grunts)
(gasping)
(gagging)
(retching)
(gasping)
I'm impressed.
(in German accent) That's my boy.
(in German)
(eerie theme playing)
(pop music ring tone plays)
(in German with German accent) What the hell!
(in English) What is it?
I am doing important research here!
KRYSTYNA: I know.
I just wanted to let you know
the number you gave me,
it's a geolocation
in the forest near Chelmno.
GUNNER: Yes, and that is why
you distract me...
(in German)
That's where we buried
a bunch of those rats.
So, it's a mass grave?
GUNNER: Mass grave? It's small. Just a few.
Not worthy of the title "mass grave."
Oh, my God! We never discovered it!
It will never be discovered!
Gunner, we never could have done this without you.
(Gunner gasping)
(normal voice) How are you?
KRYSTYNA: I am fine.
I can take a punch in the face.
That asshole.
Bartholdi promised to come back, if you don't leave.
But I'm done being afraid.
I'm only worried for you.
We meet at the train station.
(call beeps off)
(in German accent) She does not understand
the magnitude of our dedication.
The aryanization, the robbery, the forced labor,
all of that barely covered the cost of the logistics.
The trains that we used to transport Jews
from the farthest corners of Europe,
could have been used in the war effort.
We sacrificed our tactical advantage,
favoring the Jews' eradication over our own survival.
Before the Holocaust, nations were thought
to prioritize their own survival.
Auschwitz shattered that belief.
We left an indelible mark.
A testament!
(normal voice) What...
What is happening to me?
Yes! Yes!
I will fucking feed you!
Cheers.
Ah, ha ha. Yeah.
Don't like your own brand, do you?
You poured gallons and gallons down there,
drenching this place with your filth!
(groans) Okay. No. No gas! No. No.
Let me get something for you, comrade.
(in German)
Isn't it?
(laughs maniacally)
You, you waited years
for this, didn't you?
Bastard likes it.
(pop music ring tone plays)
KRYSTYNA: Nya! Nya, nya, nya!
Don't give him what he wants.
GUNNER: You don't understand.
That's how we control him.
KRYSTYNA (in German):
Nya, nya, nya, nya!
The woods, the water.
Woods to hide in, water to wash
the scent off so the hounds can't find us.
Krystyna!
Wash it off,
then come to the train station.
It's our only way out.
I will be able to stay here, study him.
I will get you out. I promise.
(in German accent) Ha! You promise?
You lie all the time, damned whore.
Whore! Like my Gerti.
Couldn't wait to fuck the tailor
while I did my holy duty, in the East.
(normal voice) This is all fucked up.
(grunts)
I'm itching like crazy.
My legs are numb, and I have acid reflux
like a fucking possum died in my throat.
(groans)
I'm not your butler!
Can't you see what I'm dealing with?
Oh, you don't say.
Yeah, life is hard.
My life wasn't that easy, Wolfgang.
After Bosnia, I was breaking down.
Never learned how to deal with what I saw,
and did,
just ecstasy and Happy Hardcore.
You know, Eurodance?
(vocalizes shooting)
I did weird jobs, wandered around Europe,
even worked on a cruise ship before I started my company.
And then I met... Krystyna.
Do not call her that!
I am not debating my dating life with a liquefied Nazi!
Stop haunting her, or I will walk away!
Oh, yeah? What's behind the barrel?
(scoffs) Shit.
One goddamn place I didn't check.
So what?
You want to hear how clever you are?
I don't care, you piss-guzzler.
So you found DIY instructions to become...this?
Living muck?
Well, hallelujah...
(in German)
You made your decision.
I can't recall ever asking for any of this.
Do you know what? I really want to know...
How can you live with what you did to those people?
(in German accent) I am eternal, American!
(normal voice) You think I want to do that?
Living with my shitty past forever?
No way.
If I could press a button and erase my past,
I would do it.
I am not you.
No! I am not you!
(in German accent) Put it in me...
and I will show you.
(water rushing)
(normal voice) The fuck is this, Zinggl?
(grunting in pain)
(in German accent) You are part of me now. Ha-ha.
We are part of the water.
(grunting)
(body thumps)
(normal voice) Fuck!
That's it, Sludge.
Game over.
Fuck you!
Ah, you, fuck you!
(in German accent) Ha! We became one
and still you want to destroy me?
(in German)
(grunts in pain)
(normal voice) What do you want? No! No!
This is insane!
(grunts) You can't threaten me.
I am my own worst enemy.
(grunting and gasping)
(in German accent) You are the family I never had.
Water is thicker than blood.
This is your home now.
(normal voice) The day before he drowned, Pops forwarded me
this inspirational quote.
I put it on his gravestone.
"All life is a rebellion against faith."
(in German accent) You can throw all the tantrums you want.
(in German)
- (phone beeps) - I don't think
I'm going to make it to the train station.
(clears throat) But I will make myself useful.
I need to check some boxes.
(German and then normal voice) Zinggl, whatever you did,
it doesn't mean squat.
You are forever, but no one cares.
No one even knows.
Come on, you are proud of what you did.
Tell me everything, Opa.
Ah, that's it. Tell me about the camp.
Tell me what you hid.
What else? Yeah?
Yes? Come on. And?
Where? Good. Good.
(English, then German) Proud soldier!
(in English) Tell me what no one but you knows.
On paper, they have voices.
(coughing)
I...
I am running out of time.
And I know you're looking forward to it, you bastard.
(strained coughs)
Let's make this count.
Tell me about your neo-Nazi comrades.
That ass-cancer of your grandson told me you broke with them?
(camera shutter clicking with photos)
- Oh, wow. - (lively chattering)
That's strong language, even for you.
You want to teach those losers a lesson, hmm?
I can help.
Slow down. Slow down.
I--I--I hunt and peck, you know.
Uh-huh.
And those backstabbers from Uruguay?
You can't win a war with those traitors.
If there's one thing I learned in Kuwait,
it's how to write reports for government officials.
Not the freshest pile of excrement,
but still enough for a successful
German shit-porn in jail.
(computer chimes)
(pop music ring tone plays)
MIKE: Who are you?
Ah, Mr. Haneke.
Heil Hitler.
Are you with Zinggl?
Thought that old fart is dead!
He remembers you well, yeah.
What is this shit you sent us? Do you want money...
(in German)
Save it for your lawyer.
Do you know who you're
fucking with, you rat?
You fucking fagboy!
You'll pay for this! You are history!
We will liquidate you!
(call beeps off)
And last but not least:
little Ernsti.
Almost done, bastard.
(grunts in pain)
Yeah, I am exhausted.
- (pop music ring tone playing) - Oh, shit.
(groans) Why can't people just send me a text?
Well, if it isn't the highlight of my day.
ERNST: Fuck you! Where is she?
She's not in her apartment!
I think she stole my Tesla!
Hey, finally some good news.
Did you know many Jews
buried photographs of mementos in the earth,
so they might hopefully be found after the war?
The earth will protect it, they said.
And hopefully the water will not get to it.
ERNST: Blah, blah, blah!
GUNNER: Thanks to you, I got to spend
my last moments doing PR work.
What could be worse? Check your email.
ERNST: What? What is it?
My first press release. Full of truffles.
Wait, wait. Wait, wait.
(in German)
(speaking German indistinctly; vocalizes)
ERNST (in German):
- (Gunner laughing) - (call beeps off)
I... I...
I seem to have sprung a leak.
(scoffing)
Shit.
(grunting)
(climaxing his pleasure)
Tempting...
(chuckles)
There are no such things as curses.
Only people and their decisions.
Gunner! Gunner!
GUNNER: Wait, you picked
an interesting time to drop by.
Gunner...
You look stunning...
(coughs)
I...on the contrary, have a hard time
keeping it together.
We went to hell and back.
Huh? (grunts)
But we were on different trains...
(sobbing)
(song title)
MAN 1: Are you sure this is the right spot?
MAN 2: Yeah. That's the address from the email.
This weirdo farmer next door confirmed it.
MAN 3: Told us some crazy stuff.
Gave us some cookies.
MAN 1: All right, then. You go first.
MAN 3: Can't see shit.
MAN 2: What the hell is that stench?
MAN 1: Oh dear, does the scent
displease you, my lady?
Search the fucking place, you fucking fuckface!
(pop music playing)
(computer beeps)