Snatch

My name is Turkish.

Funny name for an Englishman, I know.

My parents were on the same plane when it crashed. That's how they met.

They named me after the plane.

Not many people are named after a plane crash.

That's Tommy.

He tells people he was named after a gun.

But I know he was really named after a famous 19th-century ballet dancer.

Known him for as long as I can remember. He's my partner.

Doesn't mean we hold hands or take walks.

It means I try to keep him out of as much trouble as he inflicts on me.

I give him a hard time. Keeps him in check.

But really, he's like my brother.

What do I know about diamonds? I'm a boxing promoter.

I was a happy boxing promoter until a week ago, and then:

What do I know about diamonds?

Don't they come from Antwerp?

- Himy, would you listen to this? - Do we have a choice?

It wasn't meant to be taken literally.

It's a nice story, Adam and Eve.

It's bound with moral fiber...

...but asking a grown man to believe it?

What is it?

Well, what is it?

What you want I should do, drop my pants?

Okay, go through.

It's a nice story.

It's just that. Just a story.

Catholic religion is based on a mistranslation.

Enough already. Ruben, say something.

Listen. Are you busy? I'll tell you the whole story.

The Septuagint scholars mistranslated the Hebrew word for "young woman"...

...into the Greek word for "virgin. "

It was an easy mistake to make...

...because there was only a subtle difference in the spelling.

So, they came up with a prophecy:

"Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear us a son. "

You understand? It was "virgin" that caught people's attention.

It's not every day a virgin conceives and bears a son.

But leave that for a couple of hundred years to stew...

...and next thing you know you have the Holy Catholic Church.

Oy vay, what are you saying?

I'm saying, just because it's written...

...doesn't make it so.

Gives them hope. It's not important whether it's fact or fiction.

- People like to believe. - I don't want to hear any more.

Anyway, who is it that we're seeing?

- Michael. - Hello?

Mutti.

Rudy! Rud, Rud, let them in, please.

Rud, it's okay, let them through.

- Michael. - Mutti.

You kept us waiting for half an hour. Are you trying to give me heartburn?

Lie down on the floor.

Get on the floor!

Lie on the floor!

Get on the fucking floor!

- Get down! - Get fucking down!

Down on the floor! Get down!

On the ground!

Get down, I say!

- Time. - Seven minutes!

Where is the stone?

Where is the stone?

Where is the stone?

Michael, where is the stone?

When does your plane leave?

Twenty minutes.

Give me your gun.

When you get to London...

...if you want a gun...

...call this number.

- Boris. - Boris.

He can get you anything you need.

Is he allowed to do that?

It's an unlicensed boxing match. It's not a tickling competition.

These lads are out to hurt each other.

What's with those sausages, Charlie?

Two minutes, Turkish.

Look at it. How am I supposed to run this thing from that?

We'll need a proper office.

I want a new one. You're going to buy it for me.

Why me?

Well, you know about caravans.

How's that?

You spent a summer in one. Which means you know more than me.

And I don't wanna have me pants pulled down over the price.

What's wrong with this one?

Oh, nothing, Tommy.

It's tiptop.

I'm just not sure about the color.

It's all arranged. You just got to pick it up.

Here's an address.

It's a campsite.

You've got 10 grand, and it would be nice to see change.

- What's happening with the sausages? - Five minutes.

It was two minutes five minutes ago.

They ain't pikeys, are they?

I fucking hate pikeys.

You're a sensitive boy, Tommy.

Fuck me. Hold tight.

- What's that? - It's me belt.

No, Tommy. There's a gun in your trousers.

- What's a gun doing in your trousers? - It's for protection.

Protection from what?

"Zee" Germans?

What's to stop it blowing your bollocks off when you sit?

- Where did you get it? - Boris The Blade.

You mean Boris the sneaky fucking Russian.

Heavy, isn't it?

Heavy is good.

Heavy is reliable.

If it doesn't work, you can always hit him with it.

Boris The Blade, or Boris The Bullet-Dodger.

Bent as the Soviet sickle and hard as the hammer that crosses it.

Apparently, it's just impossible to kill the bastard.

Back to my partner, Tommy.

Tommy runs the other business...

...the slot machines...

...which keeps rain off our heads and gloves on Gorgeous' hands.

However, Tommy's a little preoccupied with protection at present.

All right, I'll take it.

There's a reason for Tommy's newfound enthusiasm for firearms.

Sooner or later, in unlicensed boxing, you have to deal with that reason:

Brick Top.

If that's not worth a bet, I don't know what is.

- He doesn't look bad, does he? - No, he looks great.

He'll do you proud.

You reckon that's what people should do for me, Gary? Do me proud?

It's what you deserve.

Pull your tongue out of my arsehole.

Dogs do that.

You're not a dog, are you?

No. No, I'm not.

However...

...you do have all the characteristics of a dog, Gary.

All except loyalty.

It's rumored that his favorite means of dispatch involves a stun gun...

...a plastic bag, a roll of tape and a pack of hungry pigs.

You're a ruthless little cunt, Liam. I'll give you that.

But I got no time for grouses.

Feed him to the pigs, Errol.

What the fuck are you two looking at?

If you got to deal with him, just make sure you don't end up owing him.

Then you're in his debt.

Which means, you're in his pocket.

And once you're in that, you ain't ever coming out.

I hear he's a good fighter, so I'll use him.

I'll be doing you a favor, boy.

What he means is, I'm doing him a favor.

Because everybody knows nobody takes a dive in my fights. Unlike his.

Here, Errol, I don't think he likes me.

You don't like me, do you?

Don't know what you mean.

I do know I can't wait to get out of here. It stinks.

My fights finish prompt so we can get out before the authorities find out.

Play your cards right and I'll sort you out.

You can sort me out by showing me out.

It's hard to make a living in boxing, so now and then...

...you do something against your principles.

Basically, you have to forget you got any.

Are they Lancashire pigs?

Who's talking to you?

Oh, yeah, Tommy. Brick Top loves Tommy.

Don't let me down.

You don't want to let me down, do you?

See you ringside.

Boris, Franky-fucking-Four Fingers...

...has a diamond the size of a fist.

I have told you it's in the briefcase connected to his arm.

I sent him to you to buy a gun.

What more do you want me to do, hit him for you?

But don't you hit him either.

Americans can't know it was Russian.

It will come back to me.

So, what should I do?

You're my brother, so think like it.

Get somebody else to steal that stone!

I don't want it getting back to me.

And don't have him killed. It will raise suspicion.

So don't use idiots for the job.

He'll stay in London a couple of days before he goes to New York...

...so move quick. Okay?

It's okay. I know a couple of guys.

One more thing.

It might help.

He loves to gamble.

Eighty-six karats?

Brilliant cut, beautiful make.

A beautiful stone.

You're a good boy, Franky.

And you did a real good job. Now when do you get back?

I got to move the two-grainers here, get a better price. Couple of days.

- Talk to my cousin Dougie. - Doug The Head?

And Franky...

- And what? - Stay out of those casinos.

You did a good job, bubbe.

- Don't go screwing it up, all right? - I hear you, Avi.

I'll see you, Avi.

Eighty-six karats.