The Ferpect Crime (Crimen Ferpecto)

- What do you want? - I'm just looking.

These suits are on sale, and they're in fashion.

I don't want suits.

Since I saw you looking...

I felt like looking. So what?

How about a sweater?

I see suits, not sweaters.

Yeah, but...

Shut up!

Okay.

How much is this one?

That's on sale.

You said that already.

It's a bargain.

A bargain?

It's way overpriced.

Next door it costs half this.

Maybe these are better...

Wrong! Wrong! Don't bend over to pick it up!

Never hesitate. "These are better."

You know it, he knows it, everyone knows it.

- Yeah, but... - You're afraid of the client!

- No, I'm not. - Fucking petrified.

Never lose the initiative. You did everything wrong.

Who can tell me his errors?

His clothes need ironing.

Asking clients what they want.

That's right! Never ask a client that.

"May I help you?" "Do you need assistance?"

But never 'What do you want?"

It's lame. Besides,

he argued with the client. He disagreed.

Rule number one. The customer is always right.

Even kids know that!

Not to mention kneeling,

losing authority and especially using the awful expression "bargain."

You get a zero out of 100.

Boys,

the highest score so far has been a 12.

We have a lot of work to do.

Has anyone ever got a perfect score?

Yes.

Once.

He was perfect.

He had us all buying clothes.

I bought a basketball jersey, and I hate basketball.

I have it framed in my room.

He was a machine. He could read your mind.

A magician, an animal...

a creature born to sell.

I've never seen anything like it.

Don't judge what you see here.

All this is temporary.

Simply a place to sleep. This isn't my real home.

I'm just an elegant man who wants to live in an elegant world.

Is that asking too much?

Meanwhile, I'd rather have nothing than a home full of vulgar objects.

Some day I'll move on to the life I deserve.

You know what the problem is?

People have no taste. Look how they dress.

It's dreadful. And don't say it's because they're poor.

This jacket has nothing to do with that.

Personally, I'd rather die than live a mediocre life,

like most people's.

I know which house I want, which car I want,

even where they are and how much they cost.

40,000 euros plus tax.

Leather upholstery, wooden dashboard, factory GPS.

Don't think about it. Just do it.

If you sit around waiting, you lose. Luck doesn't exist.

You have to go for it, every day.

Opportunities are out there waiting for you.

You just need the courage to go after them.

I never hold back.

If I like what I see, I grab it.

That's why people are unhappy.

They're surrounded by things they like,

but they won't go after them.

FERPECT CRIME

You won't get anywhere without a goal.

I have a goal, a finish line, and I'm about to reach it.

Welcome to my world, where everything's perfect.

The light, the music, the colors...

the aroma...

- What was that for? - A little souvenir.

How are you?

Nervous. Are we still on for tonight?

Ten o'clock in the changing rooms.

It's lunacy!

I love women. All of them.

Well, almost all of them.

Nothing's more attractive than a single male.

They can smell us. I saw it in a documentary on TV.

Their genes drive them to seek marriage.

Females want to control us, dominate us, and above all,

reproduce. It's the cycle of life and all that.

So they select a male, show off their feathers...

and suddenly you've got a mortgage,

a pack of wild animals to feed and end of story.

Just thinking about it sends chills down my spine.

Is this my fate?

No.

I've found my home here, my refuge.

I'm the priest in a pagan temple, surrounded by my followers.

Roxanne. Wild and passionate.

Adores making love in the changing rooms.

Her base instincts emerge in the most unexpected places.

Good old Alonso.

He admires me so much he'd do anything for me.

He's a kiss-ass, but he grows on you.

- Are you on the job or what? - Absolutely.

Susana. Married, two kids.

Uninhibited and fascinating.

Years of boring family life have made her a sex bomb.

Jaime, the poor guy.

Had to quit law school to marry his pregnant girlfriend.

Always talking about his kids to justify himself, but he's a good kid.

Helena. Naive and rustic, but her body is perfect.

Good lord, what breasts!

And what a cook. Those cupcakes...

This is the border.

The edge of the ladies section. My kingdom.

Across the aisle, the dark side. The much-feared menswear department.

Hey.

Good morning.

Don Antonio, a professional. Over 20 years here.

He likes his job. Dressing men.

Though I suspect he'd rather undress them.

Despite his repulsive toupé,

Antonio's the only other candidate for floor manager.

Floor manager.

You know what that means?

Being the king. Owning a little piece of this paradise.

Stock in the company, commissions on everything sold,

and with time, the chance to join the Board of Directors.

Before...

Well, there was Mr. Emilio.

I remember him like an immortal god,

walking among us, aware that his blood was unlike ours.

And it was. He died of leukemia last Christmas.

Bam, bam, bam!

Now the post is vacant, and it's between the two of us.

They thought it'd be fun

to see us tear each other apart.

This month's sales will decide. It's either him,

or me. There's no one else.

Are you ready, champ?

It's the last day. You're gonna clean up. I can feel it.

Did you bring the total figures?

Including yesterday, 90,000 euros.

What about Antonio?

95,000 euros.

Shit.

How does he do it? Always selling ties and socks.

I've got 8 hours, right?

Starting...

starting...

Hold on, wait...

Now.

Hi there, ladies.

- You both look stunning. - Thank you.

My pleasure. Here, let me.

What a nice man.

Eva, giftwrap this for me.

Goodbye, ma'am. You'll look amazing.

- Such a flatterer! - He's irresistible.

- How am I doing? - Good. Pretty good.

- What happened? - Guess.

He sold something big.

You won't believe it. A tuxedo.

- For New Year's? - No, an expensive one.

Worth a fortune.

This goes much better with your eyes.

Thank you.

That son of a bitch. What time is it?

- 9:30. - Half an hour left.

There's no way. You'd have to sell 7 dresses.

Something expensive.

Like a flat screen plasma TV.

What's plasma?

Plasma? That stuff they put in TV's.

We don't sell TV's on this floor.

I need something fast!

That's when I saw her.

She was the one.

Hold it. Leave her to me.

- But Rafa... - Quiet, you'll scare her!

There she was, right in front of me.

Strolling through lingerie, like a deer

in the undergrowth. Ladies like this are scarce

in this climate. She's just browsing.

The way she carries her bag. Swinging it back and forth....

She's promised herself she won't but deep down inside

she wants to buy something, anything...

to shop away her woes,

the anxiety that devours her because she's overweight

and nobody notices her, and she's lonely...

- No. - What?

- It's not you. - Why not?

That's for older women.