Kingsman: The Golden Circle Page #3

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.

F***ing hell, Merlin. Sh*t.

MAN:
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.

(SPITS)

That's 1963 Statesman Reserve.

You just made it personal.

(GRUNTING)

(GROANS)

(BEEPING)

(PANTING)

Who the f*** are you?

MAN:
A bottle

in a secret wall.

You really expect me

to take that seriously?

See, I think

your story's horse sh*t.

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, f*** 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.

(EXHALES)

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 boys'll make

just as impressive of a sound...

when I set your balls on fire.

(CHUCKLES SOFTLY)

Or you could just tell me who the f***

y'all really are...

and how the hell y'all found us.

MERLIN:
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 f*** yourself.

(CHUCKLES)

(CHUCKLES SARCASTICALLY)

What about you?

Me?

Yeah.

No, I love

a Jack and Coke, bruv.

But I do agree with the part

where you go f*** 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.

F*** me.

Harry?

Y'all got three seconds

to tell me the truth.

MERLIN:
Wait. No.

No!

Harry!

He can't hear you.

But I can, so talk.

No!

Get down, Harry!

MERLIN:
Harry! Harry!

That's two.

Harry!

Harry!

EGGSY:
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.

(LAUGHING) 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.

MERLIN:
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.

MERLIN:
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 f***

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?

(ALARM BLARING)

GINGER:
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.

TEQUILA:
I'll go check the church.

(HISSING)

GINGER:
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.

POPPY:
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.

POPPY:
Scaredy-cat.

Shut up and sit down.

Let's go!

(BEEPS)

CHARLIE:

Crocodile Rock, please.

F*** you!

(ELECTRICITY CRACKLING)

(GROANING)

Hey, hey, Elton, language.

Okay, as fabulous

as your catalogue is...

I think I want to hear

some Gershwin.

(SIGHS)

(PLAYING PIANO)

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.

Sh*t. Has Elton

got the blue rash?

Lights.

(PIANO PLAYING STOPS)

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.

(GASPS)

Don't worry, I can fix it.

Tell me who you partied with.

(SIGHS)

It was Angel.

Huh, not very angelic.

Gonna have to clip his wings.

(SIGHS)

Close the door behind you.

MAN:
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?

(CHUCKLES)

Now, how can I help you?

EGGSY:
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.

Oh.

EGGSY:
Galahad always said,

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