the man.
- Who?
Gorbachev.
Cut it out.
I'm telling you, it's worth...
Fabric's now 5 times
more expensive.
- 300 rubles?
- The government just decreed
a 500% increase
for the private sector.
I don't care!
They're bleeding us dry.
What do you expect me
to do about it?
I don't have a penny.
Zero.
It's 1,500 rubles...
May I respectfully
have a word with you?
I tell you, nothing will ever
go right in this country.
Soon we'll be buying snow
from abroad.
That's enough.
Here's 1,200 rubles.
Is that OK?
Are we friends?
If you say so...
Did you hit him?
No! I just said it wasn't nice
to keep it all to himself
and that he had to share.
What does "no money" mean?
He felt so ashamed,
he opened his safe.
Let's drink.
I was so happy.
I was in seventh heaven.
I thought that the government decree
would bring Viktor back to science,
that everything
would be like before.
I don't know
why I'm telling you all this.
Let's drink.
But the rat charmer
had invented a new scam.
Scams...
His head was full of them.
I'm sorry.
You dare to come
and disturb our grief!
We've found some new leads.
So what? You'll never be able
to understand Plato.
- Why's that?
- Because he was a genius.
What can you tell me
about the brooms?
In 1989, you and Makovski
founded the Mill Company
which aimed to...
Excuse me a moment...
...to make and sell brooms.
You made 150 million of them,
in other words, around 5 brooms
per Soviet household.
Where did they all go?
There.
Look.
That's the last one.
- What about the others?
- All sold.
They were excellent brooms.
In this specific case,
the decree doesn't apply.
We don't sell - we exchange.
Company 1 exchanges
with 2,
2 with 3, etc., etc.
And that's how the mill
starts to turn. There you go.
- I don't get it.
- It's simple.
The private sector can't sell,
but it can exchange.
Say you have vacuum cleaners.
- You can exchange them.
- What for?
For... anything.
Brooms, for example.
Here's one.
- What brooms?
- Brooms to sweep with.
I get it.
Sheer genius.
Forget the thesis.
Let's go to the Lada plant.
What for?
To trade brooms
for cars.
It's simple.
10 years before Plato's death
Lada plant
- Why are you laughing?
- 'Cause all this will soon be ours.
198,
199,
200.
There are your 200 cars.
Now sign here.
- Everything OK?
- Yes.
Hey, you!
What're you playing at?
Where are you going?
Stop it!
I'll do the talking.
Don't say a word.
So, you Muscovites
are starting your business here?
This is our patch.
You didn't ask our permission.
You didn't show us respect.
We're fining you $20,000.
Plus 5% of the sales.
You've had 200 cars:
we're taking 10 right now.
Any questions?
We have to discuss it.
Let me handle this.
You know what, guys?
I've thought it over:
Go fuck yourselves!
You won't have a thing.
Understand?
Well, do you understand?
Easy, easy.
My friend's getting carried away.
Let's meet tomorrow at noon.
We'll talk it over calmly.
A meeting, you say?
OK, let's do that.
Guys, we're taking this hothead.
He's coming with us.
Larry, don't give them a thing:
no money or cars!
- I can sell my apartment.
- Which one?
My studio.
It's worth 30,000.
You're crazy. That'd take time.
I'm against negotiating with them.
Do you think you're the boss?
I love this Olympian calm,
but say something.
You brought us here.
You put Plato in the shit.
It's your fault.
Leave those dice alone.
Say something!
Hello, Ahmed.
Thanks for coming.
Did you tell the cops?
Good.
Never tell the cops.
Ever.
Give me a cigarette.
Mark, you don't smoke.
I'll tell your mom.
I'm nervous.
- Don't worry.
- I'm not worried, I'm nervous.
- You're not. You're scared.
- You're scared.
OK, I'm scared. Aren't you?
- I am, but that's normal.
- Well, then.
You're not scared.
I'm the one who's scared.
I'm Ahmed the Uzbek.
Who's the boss?
I am.
You, stay there.
The rest of you, scram.
You're young.
They're