Killing God (Matar a Dios)

[car horn honks

Excuse me? Could you move, please? I almost hit you.

Nothing. Incredible...

Come on, move!

Are you ok?

Is something wrong?

No notice.

Dad? Why not run him over?

Are you mad, or what? What's going on?

Are you mad or... or what?

I may be mad,

but not in the way you think.

Don't worry, sweetie. It's ok.

Can we go now?

Go, but you're going to die...

And your family too.

Get out of the car!

Get your sister out of here!

Cris! Get your sister out!

Get her out!

KILLING GOD

That was the best night of my life. Mwah!

That was the best night of my life! Mwah!

Can you stop?

Unbelievable.

That was the best night of my life! Mwah!

Say it again and I'll be mad.

The best night...

-Carlos, please. -...of my life.

-Too far. -Mwah!

What do you want?

Your them to see us like this?

I want you to tell me why your boss sent you this SMS:

"That was the best night of my life. Mwah!"

It's a joke. I told you.

Tell me again, with all the juicy details.

-Unbelievable. Tell you again? -Yes, all the juicy details.

Fine.

-We left the convention. -What time?

-At 09:00 pm. -You told me 09:15 pm.

-I said at 09:00 pm. -No, you said 09:15 pm. I remember.

Lying involves memory, love.

Fine.

It was either 09:00 or 09:15 pm.

-We went for Japanese food. -Japanese food?

How romantic, modern!

-Then for gin and tonics. -Was it expensive?

-What? -Was the Japanese expensive?

-I don't know, he paid. -He paid?

Good tactic.

-What's this about gin and tonics? -We had some afterwards.

How many?

-A couple each. -Are you sure?

I had two, I think he had three.

He had three... You don't drink. You had two?

Yes.

-You said a couple, now it's three? -Yes.

-If I keep pushing you, maybe four? -It was three.

-Four at the count of one, two... -Carlos! I had two.

-He had three. -And then?

-We went to bed. -Same hotel?

-You know it was. -Same room?

-No. -That's it?

-Yes. -Do you swear?

-Yes. -On my life?

-Yes. -Swear on your mother's life?

-Carlos, that's enough. -For her to die, burning to death,

suffering like a rat?

So... after a lovely evening in a Japanese restaurant,

you go for some gin and tonics, then to the hotel

-and that's it? -Yes.

That was the best night of your fucking boss' life?

Either your boss has had a dreadfully boring life...

-Or... -Or what?

I'll go. It's my brother and father.

By the way, open some more wine.

Make tonight the best night of my life. Mwah!

Son?

Middle of nowhere!

Well!

What a door!

The forecast was for clear skies!

-Did you find it ok? -Yes, with your brother's GPS.

Isn't this place a little isolated?

That's the idea: a quiet New Year's Eve.

-How are things with you? -Good, my heart will kill me soon.

-That's nonsense, you know it. -Then why am I on ten pills a day?

Which he doesn't even take.

Santi! How are you?

-A little better. -You're sure?

In the daytime, yes. I only want to kill myself at night.

We'll have a great time!

Say hi to Ana, and I'll show you around.

Why celebrate New Year's here?

-It's really scary. -Ask Ana, she arranged it.

-Are you crying? -No, it's the onions

-for a Spanish omelet. -Damn it, an omelet.

-You love it. -We ate it last night, and today.

-We'll make something else. -You're not crying?

No, it's just the onion. Come on.

By the way, don't suck up to Ana about her being thinner...

-Why? -Because she's not thin.

-Hello! -Eduardo!

Hello.

-So? How's the heart? -Well...

worse than yesterday, but better than tomorrow.

Don't say that, you'll bury us all.

I wish.

-Santi! -Hello, lovely.

-You've lost weight. -Really?

-He says I'm fatter. -My brother's an idiot.

-Have you been crying? -No, it's the onion.

It's your favorite.

No. They've had it two days straight.

Really?

We'll make something else.

We can cut more cold meat, tomato bread...

While you finish up, I'll show them the house, okay?

No. You finish supper and I'll show them the house.

You're the woman, I'm the alpha male.

I'll help with supper. The house can wait.

They can discuss their business and we can discuss ours.

Shall we open this wine?

-How's Dad? -Same old hypochondriac.

He worries he could go at any time, but takes no notice of doctors,

or his diet or pills...

The world revolves around him.

He goes out, doesn't say where, and comes back when he wants to.

He's changed, Carlos.

Since Mom died...

-It's normal, don't mind him. -I live with him. It's not easy.

It's not. He's really strange. You wouldn't recognize him.

He goes out a lot. He smokes more joints than I do.

If you need a wee or a poo, the bathroom is up there.

The bedroom is very "you".

Very "me"?

So? You like it then?

It's shit, I'm not sleeping here.

-Isn't there a better one? -Yes, my one.

Dad's is far more scary.

Not looking after yourself?

Why?

My wife did just that all her life, and we buried her

six months ago. It's a waste of time.

I guess you need more time to get over losing María.

At my age there's no time to recover from such a blow.

Now death panics me more than ever,

but I'd rather die doing what the fuck I want.

-I've decided to do whatever I fancy. -And what's that?

Well... I eat whatever I want,

drink more than ever,

I smoke the odd joint, and have stopped going to mass.

My last visit to church was my wife's funeral.

I prefer to visit whores.

I swapped priests for whores, and I'm better off, that's for sure.

I'm 72 years old.

I had only ever been with my wife.

I always wondered about being with another, so I hired an escort.

Did you like it?

I loved it.

She was a young girl, about your age.

Sweet, delicate, pretty... and real dirty!

A professional.

Told me what I wanted to hear,

and made me feel special.

-Expensive, but... -Your son said

that you had changed, but I didn't expect this.

Have there been many?

Quite a few.

I'm wasting the inheritance, I feel bad for the boys.

There'll be nothing left for them.

-I've become selfish. -Know what I think?

Fuck them!

To the whores!

To the whores!

So? How are things with Marisa?

-The truth? Or sugar-coated? -The truth.

Terrible. I haven't shot myself yet as getting a gun is hard in Spain.

Why doesn't she want to be with me?

We've been together since we were 17.

She's treated you like shit.

Forget her, she's not worth your misery.

It's still the black guy.

A friend saw them, hand in hand, buying roast chicken and...

She fell for the typical African, no papers, no Spanish...

It won't last long.

Not African, Argentinian.

-A black Argentinian? -Yes. Argentinian.

Shit... how strange.

-I've never met a black Argentinian. -And he's 18.

He's young! Is Marisa a pedophile now, or what?

It's rare for women.

It's normally guys, right?

I do remember a news story about a 45-year-old teacher

who went out with a pupil of 14 or 15.

Did she force him to have sex?