Sync & corrections by Blue-Bird™

Srt2smi by Blue-Bird™

Eggy.

You mind if
I share your cab?

Charlie?

It's ironic, isn't it?

You look like a gentleman,
I look like a pleb.

If I was you,
I'd unlock your cab.

Pete, get us out of here!

You think that shit's
gonna work this time?

You're way out of your depth.

Fuck!

Take him out!

Merlin! We've got
a Code Purple.

My driver's down.

Permission to blow
these fuckers away.

Denied.

Cannot be contained.

Head south,
I'm clearing the route.

Shit!

Merlin,
I'm entering Hyde Park.

Can I get on with it?

Merlin!

Dark zone confirmed.
Permission to fire.

Oh, thank fuck for that!

No time to relax.
Police are right behind you.

You have 30 seconds before
they reach your position.

Go directly
to Rendezvous Swan.

Merlin, you do realize
I haven't even
got a windscreen right now?

I seem to remember
from your training

you were rather good
at holding your breath.

It wasn't
a revenge mission.

Charlie could've just
killed you immediately.

Not boasting,
but I trained him
well enough

that even he wouldn't
mess that up.

Merlin, I'm sorry,

we're gonna have to do
the debrief tomorrow.

I've got to get
to a dinner tonight...

and ifl miss it,
let's just say

Charlie might as well
have killed me.

Well, if you can't wait

for the police
to clear the park...

there's another way out
in the corner.

Fuck!

How important is that dinner?

Let me show you.

For fuck's sake!

Babe.

I'm home!

I'm here.

What the hell happened?

It's a long story
that deserves a kiss.

Not even JB
would kiss you right now.

If you really love me,
just one little kiss.

You were really gonna do it?

Yeah.

Now, that is
true love right there.

Amazing. I'm gonna
go get changed.

♪ Happy birthday to you! ♪

And Tilde made that
for you herself, bruv.

Mmm-hmm.

The royal baker's
not available.

Oh, shut up, Brandon.

Especially if you
want some of this.

Oh! Wait. ls that that
Swedish stuff right there?

Yes.

No, no. I ain't drinkin'
none of that.

Last time here,
I was wrecked, man.

Yeah, but that's 'cause you
were a lightweight, Jamal.

No, no, babe, I'm good.
Not for me, thank you.

Oh, what?
What's going on, man?

I'm meeting her parents

for the first time
tomorrow night.

I wanna make a good
impression, so what?

Oh, yeah, JamaL
are you free to dogs“ AB

tomorrow night
while we're there?

Ah, sorry, bruv, I've got
to look after my nan tomorrow.

But Liam's free, though.

Oh, yeah?

I can't, mate.
I'm allergic to dogs.

Bullshit.

Dogshit, actually.

That leaves you, Brandon.
What you doing tomorrow night?

Yeah, I'll look after
your dog, mate,

but I got one condition.

What's that?

You have a drink with us.
Yeah.

Got to do it, babe.

Got to do it.

Brandon, happy birthday!

Happy birthday.

- Yeah.
- Cheers.

Shit.

My drugs are everywhere.

They were never my thing...

but here i am,

running the biggest
drug cartel in the world.

The only downside is having to
live in the middle of nowhere.

You know, these ruins
are technically undiscovered.

I just added a few touches
to remind me of home.

I grew up on all that
awesome 50s nostalgia.

Grease. American Graffiti.
Happy Days.

But I digress.

The thing
you need to understand

is the hard work
and ingenuity...

it took to achieve
a global monopoly...

on the drug trade.

And that's all on me.
Not to toot my own horn...

I just think
it's really important

for new recruits
to understand...

the history
of The Golden Circle.

So. Lifelong friends, huh?

Charles, do you think
your buddy here

is worthy ofjoining us?

Ms. Poppy, I would
not have brought him

all the way to see you
if I didn't think so.

Excellent.
Well, you hungry?

Starving.

Wonderful! Right this way.

Make yourselves at home.

So, fellas...

I have a couple of things
that I wanna clarify.

You understand that
in The Golden Circle...

my authority is never
to be questioned, right?

And the importance
of following orders?

Do you understand that?

And the value of loyalty?

It's easy to nod, isn't it?

I don't like easy.
I like proof.

What's your name?
Angel, ma'am.

Angel, baby.

Hey.

Your old pal, Charles,
has messed up.

That's all
I'm gonna tell you,

'cause that's all
you need to know.

So put him
in the mincer, okay?

No, Miss Poppy!

Good job!

See my salon across the way?

Head there for your makeover.

Eggsy,
I hope you're hungry.

Oh, babe, I was gonna
grab breakfast at work.

This looks lovely,
but I'm running late.

I just thought maybe
we could practice?

For tonight.

Practice?
Mm-hmm.

Eating?

You said you've never
eaten at a palace before.

And Pappa is sort of picky
about table manners.

Well, as it happens, babe,
I've got this shit on lock.

I know what every single one

of them knives
and forks is for.

This is a butter knife.

It's the only one
you need to remember,

the rest of
the cutlery is easy.

You start from the outside,

and you work your way in
with each course.

And never let anyone
describe you as "H.K.L.P."...

What's that?

"Holds knife like pen."

A habit erroneously believed

to be upper class
dining etiquette.

It is quite the opposite.

White wine, pudding wine,
red wine, water and pop.

Or whatever tipple
takes your fancy.

Am I supposed to wait
for everyone else

to be served
before I start eating?

Only if the dish
being served is cold.

Or if the Queen
is present.
Otherwise tuck in.

Got to be honest...

neverreaHythought
the royalty bit
would be relevant.

Harry would've been chuffed.

Oh. I wish I could've met him.

You miss him too,
don't you, Mr. Pickle?

Mmm?

Mr. Pickle says, "Yeah."

Hey, no, no,
sit down, I'm fine.

I'm fine. Have a good day.

Okay.

Ah, Galahad! You're late.

We were wondering
if you'd had

a second encounter
with Charlie.

I wish. I'm looking forward
to finishing him off.

All right, gents.

Merlin, come in.

Galahad and Lancelot,

please remain
for Merlin's debrief.

Everyone else,
reconvene at 1900 hours.

So...

the man who attacked
Galahad in the taxi

was Charlie Hesketh.

Rejected Kingsman
applicant turned bad.

We last saw him back
at Richmond Valentine's HQ.

I've caught
a fucking spy!

Like everyone else there...

Charlie had
a security implant
in his neck.

A weakness
we had no choice
but to exploit.

Hey, Merlin.
Still fucking
spectacular, eh?

Come on, guys, loosen up.
We saved the world.

Yeah.

Unfortunately, Galahad,
you also saved Charlie.

When you electrocuted him,
you damaged his implant.

Instead of
his head exploding...

he only lost an arm
and his vocal chords.

Fucker should be thanking me.

And now he's back
for revenge?

We don't think so, sir.

We believe
he's being recruited

by an unknown organization.

Lancelot?

Got the police
autopsy reports

from Charlie's colleagues
in the SUVs.

They're not just
goons for hire.

Fingerprints removed.

Teeth filed smooth.

I did a face recognition.
Nothing.

And that thing?

A cosmetic tattoo
made of 24-carat gold.

They all had them.

Seems like we're looking
at some kind of
underworld organization.

Sefiora Poppy has sent me
for my makeover.

Follow me.

Please take your shirt off.

It's beautiful, isn't it?

Not that.

This.

♪ The sun is out
The sky is blue ♪

Bon appétit.

♪ There's not a cloud
To spoil the view ♪

♪ But it's raining ♪

♪ Raining in my heart ♪

♪ Oh, misery, misery ♪

♪ What's gonna become of me? ♪

How is it?

It's delicious.

Welcome to Golden Circle.

♪ Raining in my heart ♪

Mmm.

This is delicious.

I think we should
do you the favor

of conversing
in English, yes.

So, tell me...

what do you do?

I work for Kingsman,
the tailors, Your Highness.

You may address my daughter
as "Your Highness."

Please address the Queen and
myself with "Your Majesty."

Pappa, this is
a family dinner...

not some state function.

Well then, Eggsy.

What do you make
of the current situation

in the Indian
financial markets?

Pappa!

Uh...

Well...

I don't think we can
underestimate the impact

of ECB's quantitative
easing measures.

And of course,
the liquidity wave

from the US Federal
Reserve rate hike...

getting pushed back.

Frida Kahlo.

Well, other than the 1939
acquisition by the Louvre...

she wasn't really acknowledged

until the new Mexicanisimo
art movement...

of the late 1970s.

Moorish revival.

Ah. The Palazzo Sammezzano.

In Tuscany.

Beautiful.

Bluetooth technology.

Which, of course,
got its name

from the legendary
Danish king...

Harald Blétand, whose name

translates to
"Bluetooth" in English.

And the Bluetooth logo
is his initials

in Norse runic symbols.

And, as I'm sure you know...

the Bluetooth logo
is his initials...

in Norse runic symbols.

Oh, my God, Eggsy.

Why isn't he eating
his fucking pudding?

I need to research
this gold tattoo.

I found records
of other people

with the same
body modifications.

All of them have
high level involvement...

with crime and international
drug trafficking.

And there's rumors
of something
called The Golden Circle.

Hmm.

Best agent or best friend?

Come on, JB.
Give it a rest, mate.

Stop scratching the door.
I'm gonna get the blame now.

There you are. Happy?

With the decks and all that.

Shit, boy!

What the...

Do you reckon, JB...

model material?

I must say, you're really
not as I expected.

Well, thank you very much...

Your Majesty.

Eggsy?
ls that you, mate?

What the fuck
is going on here?

You a gangster now
or something?

Fuckin' hell. Is that Tilde's
mom and dad's house?

Tell you what. Whatever
you're doing, I want in.

Put it down!

Why?

I said, put it down now!

What's wrong with it?

Shut it! Fucking shut it!

Eggsy.
I beg your pardon?

Shut if! Shut if now!

All right, mate.
Chill your boots.

Eggsy. what...

Oh, no. Oh, my God, no.
I'm so sorry.

You shut up and all.
You got me in enough trouble.

The next order of business...

Agent Percival.

Arthur.

Oh, fuck.

Yep.

Kingsman is crumpets.

Like toast, but British.

And to say thank you...

I got you a present, Charlie.

My guys made you this.

Bigger, badder, better.
I call it...

ARMageddon.

Let's see
if your game improves.

Ouch.

Someone decides
to wipe out

every Kingsman property...

every agent, and somehow...

conveniently,
you weren't at home.

I could say the same thing
about you.

What, you think
I'd kill Roxy?

And my mate, Brandon,
and my fucking dog?

No.

You think I would?

This thing...

hacked us.

Clearly, this arm can be
remotely controlled.

I'm only alive
because my address

wasn't on the database
with the agents.

Whoever Charlie's
working with

doesn't think that mere
staff are missile-worthy.

This ain't funny.

Roxy is dead!

Everyone's dead! Gone!
Do you even care?

Pull yourself together.

Remember your training.

There's no time for emotion
in this scenario.

Now...

as all surviving agents
are present,

we follow
the doomsday protocol.

When that's done,
and only then...

you may shed a tear
in private.

Okay.

What's the doomsday protocol?

We go shopping.

We're from Kingsman.
We'd like to buy some wine.

And use tasting room
number three, please.

Not one of
my predecessors

has ever been
in this situation before.

Thank God.

A-ha.

Remember this?

Yeah,
how could I forget?

Whatevefls in that safe
is the answer
to all our problems.

Huh.

ls that it?

I suppose that must be
upper-class humor.

I don't get it.

Me neither. What the fuck
are we supposed to do now?

I think we should
drink a toast

to our fallen comrades.

To Roxy.

Roxy.

Ooh.

To Arthur.
Arthur.

Mmm.

Should we do one for JB?

I think we should.

I should have seen it coming.

Charlie, the taxi.

It's all my fault.

No, that's bullshit, Merlin.
It ain't all your fault.

You're the best, bruv.

Honestly, without you...

I'd have lost it
a long time ago.

I think we should
drink to Scotland.

I think we've probably
had enough, to be honest.

You're probably right.

Merlin.
Aye?

I think we're going
to Kentucky.

Fried Chicken?

I love fried chicken.

No, proper Kentucky. Look.

You know what else I love?

Country and western music.

♪ Country roads ♪

♪ Take me home ♪

♪ To the place l belong ♪

Oh! Here's where we leave
the casks to age.

Unfortunately, we can't go in,

as it's
a temperature-controlled
environment.

So let's move on to
our world class stud farm...

and meet three of
our Kentucky Derby winners.

Biometric security scanner
just to protect

a few old barrels of whiskey?

Pull the other one, love.

Got it.

Are you getting anything?

Not yet.

Fucking hell.

It's a shame
it's not scotch.

Hang on.

According to this,
there's a huge

underground structure
right beneath us.

And if my calculations
are correct...

This...

is the way in.

Fucking hell, Merlin. Shit.

You know, my mama...

she always told me...

us southerners get our good
manners from the British.

I was thinkin‘,
ain't that a pity.

Y'all didn't keep nothing
for yourselves.

Y'all ain't never heard of
knocking before you enter?

Well, actually we had
an invitation. Didn't we?

Yeah.
Oh, did you now?

Yeah. It came in the
shape of a bottle.

We're from the Kingsman
tailor shop in London.

Maybe you've heard of us?

Oh, the Kingsman.

Yeah.
Huh.

That's where y'all got
them fine suits

and them fancy
spectacles y'all got on?

Exactly.
That's right.

Y'all look damn sharp.

Let me see
if I got it right, here.

You want me to believe that
it's normal for a tailor...

to hack through an advanced
biometric security system...

with nothing but a little
bitty old watch on?

I can promise you...

that dog don't hunt.

So why don't you
go on and get down
on your knees...

and tell me
who you really work for.

That's 1963 Statesman Reserve.

You just made it personal.

Who the fuck are you?

A bottle
in a secret wall.

You really expect me
to take that seriously?

See, I think
your story's horse shit.

Y'all just trying to cover
for a failed rescue mission.

You here for
the lepidopterist,
ain't you?

Okay, so your
mystery bottle, huh?

Look anything like that,
right there?

Yes. Same brand,
much older.

All right.

Let's see here.

You know why the measurement

of alcohol content's
called "proof"?

Oh, fuck off!

Oh, for Pete's sake.

See, comes from back
in the old days...

when pirates wanted to test
the strength of their rum.

They used to
pour a little bit out
on gunpowder.

That'll make you wanna slap
your mama right there, boy.

And if the gunpowder,

if it burnt when
they set it alight...

they considered it proof...

that their rum
was good and strong.

But see, I ain't got
no gunpowder on me, do I?

But I'm pretty sure
you b0ys'|| make

just as impressive
of a sound...

when I set your balls on fire.

Or you could just
tell me who the fuck
y'all really are...

and how the hell
y'all found us.

Look,
for the last time,

we have nothing to protect
but our honor.

So you can take
your cheap horse piss

that you call whiskey...

which, by the way,
is spelled without an "e"...

and is nothing compared
to a single malt scotch...

and you can go
fuck yourself.

What about you?

Me?
Yeah.

No, I love
a Jack and Coke, bruv.

But I do agree with the part
where you go fuck yourself.

All right.

Y'all ain't got
nothing to protect

other than your honor.

Let's see what happens
when we change things up.

Fuck me.
Harry?

Y'all got three seconds
to tell me the truth.

Wait. No.

N |
Harry! o.

He can't hear you.
But I can, so talk.

No!
Get down, Harry!

Harry! Harry!
That's two.

Harry!
Harry!

Harry!
Three.

Stop!

Their story checked out.

I opened our doomsday
scenario locker

and that umbrella was in it.

Kingsman.
It's got our logo on it.

I'm really sorry.

My apologies, boys.

I hope there ain't
no hard feelings.

I was just doin' my job.

Welcome to the Statesman,

independent
intelligence agency.

Just like y'all, I reckon.

But our founders went
into the booze business.

Thank the sweet Lord above.

This is Ginger Ale.

She's our strategy executive.

Hello.

I'm Agent Tequila.

This is the part
where you untie us.

Thank you.

Harry.

Hello.
Hello, mate.

Harry.

How do you do?

Have we met before?

Harry, it's okay. It's fine.
They know that we know you.

I think there must be
some mistake.

It's been such
a long time, Harry.

I need to get
my brogues resoled.

Yeah, and my oxfords
are done in as well.

Why are you telling me
about your shoes?

I'm a lepidopterist.

You're a what?

I study butterflies.

Well,
you wanted to be before
you joined the army, but...

Harry, look at me.

It's good to see you.

We'll be back soon.

So these fellas right here
are our doomsday protocol?

Turns out, our founder's
tailor was Kingsman.

What the fuck
have you done to him?

Nothing. Only tried
to help him.

He's got
retrograde amnesia.

Now, we knew
from his eyeglasses

that he was intelligence.

We just didn't know whose.

How did he get here?

What the hell?

Tequila, I'm getting
a crazy spike...

of extreme low frequency waves
11 miles from here.

I'm gonna need you to
escort me there immediately.

I need your alpha gel.

I'll go check the church.

We developed
our alpha gel technology

for our own agents...

in the event of a head shot.

The gel protects the brain.

Then, in the lab,
we use nanites...

micro-bots,
to repair tissue damage.

There are side effects.

Partial amnesia...

regression to
the younger self.

With no idea who he was,
there was nothing we could do.

But now
you guys are here...

there's a good chance
we can bring him back.

You're late.

Why are you
still wearing that?

Until you get rid of
the perimeter landmines...

I'll keep wearing the suit,
thank you very much.

Scaredy-cat.

Shut up and sit down.

Let's go!

Crocodile Rock, please.

Fuck you!

Hey, hey, Elton, language.

Okay, as fabulous
as your catalogue is...

I think I want to hear
some Gershwin.

I still can't believe...

you got away with
kidnapping Elton John.

I know! But with Valentine
abducting those celebrities...

it seemed silly not to take
advantage of the confusion.

Shit. Has Elton
got the blue rash?

Lights.

Hey, Elton.

Have you been a bad boy again?

Mmm-mmm.

You're lying.
Look at your hands.

What is it?

It's proof that my plan
is gonna work.

It's also the first sign
of a slow and horrible death.

Don't worry, I can fix it.

Tell me who
you partied with.

It was Angel.

Huh, not very angelic.

Gonna have to clip his wings.

Close the door behind you.

At what point are you
going to start behaving

like a Statesman, Tequila?

You wanna go back
to being a rodeo clown?

No, sir. I apologize, sir.

I'm Champagne.

But anyone who knows
what's good for him...

calls me Champ.

Sorry for your troubles.

As your American cousins...

I'm placing all of Statesman's
considerably larger resources
at your disposal.

Can you imagine us
in the clothing business?

Now, how can I help you?

First of all,
I've got to thank you

for saving Agent Galahad.

Wait.

You said that
you were Galahad.

Oh, no, he's talking
about the butterfly guy.

That used to be
his handle.

Galahad always said,

"You've got to look at
the bigger picture...

"ask 'why' as well as 'who'."

So if someone wanted
to take out Kingsman...

then they've got to be
planning something major.

So what do you know?

They're a drug cartel,
we think.

The name Golden Circle
keeps coming up.

Mmm. We'll look
into them. What else?

One of our former trainees
is working with them.

Charlie Hesketh.
Total prick.

You got any promising
leads on him?

His ex-girlfriend.

I've been tracking her
through social media.

We believe she's still
in contact with him.

And she's going
to Glastonbury
Music Festival.

Oh, good.

Agent Tequila,
break out your dancing shoes.

You have a new mission.

Yes, sir.

Hold up.

You feeling okay?

I'm a little tired,
but fine, thanks.

Galahad, you ready?

Your face...

You got...

What the fuck?

Oh, shit.