The Last Word (Das letzte Wort)

Silver wedding anniversary.

Twenty-five years.

Shit, we're old! Right?

It feels as though we stopped paying attention for a moment...

and then, all of a sudden, 25 years went by.

Just like that.

Do you know what that means?

It means we had an awesome time!

Am I right?

Stephan...

this one is for you.

DJ Tonio!

I know you better than you know yourself Know what annoys you and what you like

I know you hate my mother And that you grab my ass when I'm asleep

I know that you sniff your socks And read Brigitte while you take a shit

I know all that about you And that's exactly why I love you

And out of the last 25 years

I regret no more than five

Are you done yet? We want to drink!

I want to be with you forever

When I'm heading towards the abyss You're the one who catches me

You're always there for me We're the best thing that I have

That's how it should always be

Don't ever leave me alone

Don't ever leave me alone

And every time I run away You always bring me back home

I think our neighbor is hot And I know you've known that for a while

-Because I read your e-mails-- -Undress, you sexy bastard!

Are you guys... Seriously?

I'm singing a love song for my husband here!

Shit!

Our guests miss you.

That's a lie.

You're right.

But you'd make me very happy if you joined us.

I'm not interested.

I'm quite happy here.

I'd like for you to finish my song.

But not today.

The party's calling.

Counter offer. You stay here and we bang as if we're 24 again.

Great suggestion.

Yeah?

But first we should get rid of our dear family and guests.

Yes. Let's chase them away now.

I'm in.

Thanks for disposing of my mother, Vivian.

No problem at all, sweetie.

It wasn't great, but at least it was over quite quickly.

Don't you want me to learn how to take care of myself?

Sure, in two years' time, perhaps.

I don't get what your problem is.

You're 15.

But I'll just be camping with friends by a fucking lake for a weekend!

I know. Which means LSD, sex, and drowning in the lake.

You're the shittiest shit father in this shitty shit world.

-Love you too. Sleep well! -Shut up. Fuck you.

You're the shittiest shit father

in this shitty fucking shit world.

And that's a compliment.

-You could've said something, too. -Nope.

No, I'm just glad that I'm not the bad guy for once.

Don't be sad. He's not moving out just yet.

-You'll have him a little longer. -Yeah.

Some Judith left a message.

-Judith? Judith Fazius! Our daughter! -Yes, I guess that's our daughter, yes.

-She sends her love. -Thank you!

That's so thoughtful of her, isn't it?

Twenty-five years.

Do you regret it?

No. At most five or six years.

Don't say the wrong thing, now.

What do you think?

"Huh" what? Let's go.

Yes, why not? Maybe...

Oh, it's that urgent, is it? Okay, then.

That's where we are.

Suggestion: I'll go first...

undress...

apply my anti-wrinkle cream…

take out my false teeth and put them in that cleaning fluid.

That's very important.

And I'll turn off the lights, just to be on the safe side...

and then let's see what… Oh! Excuse me... what happens, okay?

I'll be waiting for you. Let's see what happens.

Very funny.

I'll be waiting. But hurry. I don't have much time left.

Right, off with those compression stockings.

Right...

I'm ready.

Stephan?

Stephan.

Stephan!

Okay, my love. I've had enough.

Right...

Now that we've sent the guests away,

time for a little anal play.

Stephan?

Stephan!

Stephan. Oh, man.

Stephan?

Come on.

Stephan?

Stephan!

Come on.

Yes, Borowski here. The funeral director. You left a message on my voicemail.

Yes? Oh! So you've found another funeral director?

Yes, but I'm nearly at your place. Yes, of course.

Shit! They called Eitner.

We should still give it a shot, right?

Do I turn left here?

-Ronnie! Do I turn left? -Okay.

-"Okay" what? Yes or no? -I don't know.

You're meant to be giving me directions. That's what that thing's for.

Shit. Left...

Eitner.

Shit. We have to turn right.

That's my corpse!

Ready?

Okay.

Mrs. Fazius. Borowski, the undertaker. My deepest condolences.

I'm not... I'm just a friend. Come on in.

Okay.

-Morning. -Borowski.

-Borowski? -Yes, the undertaker.

I thought it would be Eitner. Well, it doesn't matter.

What was it?

An aneurysm. He died immediately.

Not a bad way to go, if you ask me. Well...

-Thank you. -Goodbye.

Lovely apartment.

Come. Come on.

Mrs. Fazius.

Borowski, the undertaker.

My deepest condolences.

Did you just lose someone too? Why are you slouched like that?

-Excuse me? -What are you waiting for?

The long face won't do anyone any good.

When my father was still alive, we were top dog.

You can only dream of the funerals we used to organize.

But you know how things are today.

People just don't know how to bury people in a decent manner anymore.

Yes, I know...

But we might be lucky this time.

He was a dentist, after all.

BOROWSKI FUNERAL SERVICE ESTABLISHED 1809

See you in a bit.

Borowski.

Hello, darling.

We got a new job. Ronnie and I just picked him up.

Congratulations.

Don't you dare.

Could turn out to be a big fish. A dentist.

Well, that would be something.

Come here. Come.

Come to me.

Seriously?

Man, they're all ugly.

Who's responsible for these?

What does the designer of the "seabed" urn think about when they go home at night?

Surely they can't be happy.

Urns in your team's colors? Is this for real?

Mrs. Fazius, it's rather popular among soccer fans.

Mr. Borowski, we have to approach it differently.

Stephan was a special person.

It can't be just any old funeral. It has to be special.

I don't want people to wish it were over, sitting around and...

-Do you know what I mean? -Yes, I believe... I believe I do.

It has to be a celebration. It has to be...

-Do you understand? -Yes, I believe I do.

With music and dancing and lots of flowers.

With a brass band, for example. Could you arrange that?

A live band?

Well, I'd just have to make a few calls, but... sure.

I guess we'd need a theme for it, right?

-A theme. Yes. -To show who he really was.

Right, Tonio?

What was Dad like?

No idea. He was a dentist.

You come up with something.

-The end is nigh! -Piss off, you bum!

Oh, fuck! Dude... Yeah, your end is nigh, you cunt!

What an asshole.

Ant... Shit. Oh, God. I hate Berlin.

Hello, Judith.

Hello.

-I'm so sorry. -Yes.

So how is she?

Come in first.

-Anyway, I spoke with Borowski again. -It's bad, isn't it?

We'll be in charge of the music ourselves.

We could practice something together.

Please no.

-Dad would've liked that. -Karla?

What is it?

There you are.

I'm glad you're here.

You look like shit.

Come, have a seat.

Oh, God...