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Клуб Парадиз

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nice, steady kind
of violence in the States. Very predictable.
Here in the jungle, it's basically long,
tedious periods of sweltering doldrums...
punctuated by the occasional bloodbath.
I think we're due for one at any minute.
Now, now, Tony...
don't start those wild rumors
about revolution again.
Well, it happened in Kenya, didn't it?
They dragged those fat burghers
from their beds in the dead of night...
forced them to drink blood
through a severed sheep's penis...
and then hacked them to pieces
with machetes.
It isn't bad as all that.
Besides, I don't think there are any sheep
on Saint Nicholas.
I heard about this guy in Cicero.
He stiffed a loan shark. So a couple
of these guys got him. Cut off his arm...
beat him to death with the arm...
then shoved the arm in a food processor,
and made a dip out of it.
Then they served it to his family
at his sister's wedding.
And his sister loved it so much
she wanted the recipe.
It's a crazy world, isn't it?
You two are a cheerful pair.
Flotsam and jetsam.
My dear young lady, unlike you...
I have not spent my life cruising
from discotheque to discotheque...
with my ass hanging out
of a French-cut bathing suit.
- You're missing all the fun, aren't you?
- I suspect you're right.
Prooth, I'll be stopping
by the Club Paradise later.
There's some wonderful music.
- We have other plans.
- I bet you do, you party Cossack.
Be careful. Somewhere on this island,
there's a doll with your face on it.
Voodoo. Ta-ta. Take care.
- Mr. Monkey.
- Oh, Miss Pansy.
- Bless you, girl.
- No problem.
Have a time.
Yeah, man. Whiskey.
Radical. Yes, man. Evening, girls.
- Hello, again.
- Hello.
Bug spray?
No, thanks. They don't bother me.
They will. Take it from me. I'm lsland Jack.
Oh, really? And what island are you from?
- Ellis, originally.
- So what do you do around here?
After you left the Palms,
they said you were a smuggler.
No, I'm a snuggler.
No, actually, I'm retired.
I live off a big insurance settlement
from the fire department.
- Fraud?
- No. Injury.
Permanently and totally disabled
in the line of duty.
You seem fit enough.
- But inside, I'm a mess.
- I don't doubt it.
- Would you care to dance?
- Yeah, why not?
I think we better sit this one out.
Thank you. I told you I was injured.
Phillipa.
Can we leave?
This place is absolutely ghastly.
Do you mind?
I'm a close, personal friend of the owner.
- This is the finest hotel on the island.
- I wouldn't be surprised.
Imagine trying to run a first-class hotel
on this island.
Try and find a decent chef,
or even a decent cut of meat.
And as for help, I guarantee there isn't
a single native on this island...
who's given a decent day's work
since they outlawed flogging.
Refreshing outlook.
Fiery Jack, see you've made contact.
Mr. Reed, Miss Phillipa Lloyd.
Mr. Toby Prooth.
Mr. Reed is the owner, manager,
and musical entertainment director...
- Here at Club Paradise.
- Welcome.
Toby here was just reminiscing
about the good old days.
Flogging, slavery. Honest day's
work for an honest day's beating.
- Gone but not forgotten.
- Phillipa, really, can we go?
I feel a colossal headache coming on.
I feel one just about to leave.
Why don't you run along?
I think I'll stay a bit.
- Suit yourself.
- Good idea.
Take care. See you in the 17th century.
- Will you join us?
- Oh, thank you.
Hello.
This is Miss Philadelphia.
- Hi.
- Hi.
This your first time in Saint Nicholas?
Excuse me.
What can I do for you, Mr. Gundy?
Nice to see you again, Ernest.
Nice to see you, too, Mr. Gundy.
Ernest...
I come to you tonight
because I am deeply, deeply concerned.
Now, when I became
Prime Minister of Saint Nicholas...
I told you to come to me
if you had any problem.
Now, as Minister of Finance
and Minister of Tourism...
it has come to me...
that you are delinquent in your taxes
to the amount of $6,000...
and that you haven't paid
your food and
Клуб Парадиз Клуб Парадиз

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