https://slama.dev/comeback/
Welcome to God's Mills, the show that brings retribution to those who tortured our eyes and ears under the totalitarian regime.
Some claim our show is controversial.
They say we should leave the socialist stars alone, forget they once made our lives miserable, and let them go unpunished.
That we should forgive.
True, we've had some casualties along the way.
Three heart attacks, two trips to the psych ward, and one group suicide.
But you can't make an omelet without breaking eggs.
And honestly, who misses the vocal ensemble of Lubomir Panek?
But there are things that cannot be forgiven.
Judge for yourselves.
You'll soak into me like rain and I'll soak into you.
You won't find such happiness.
Even if you went to heaven, when you carry me away like a hurricane.
The song "You'll Soak Into Me Like Rain."
In 1988 alone, the totalitarian television broadcast it 326 times.
And had it not been for the Velvet Revolution, it would have been featured at the Spartakiad during the exercise routine of older women with clubs.
The song was performed by Tommy Patsy, which could be called a stage name, if only its bearer Tomas Pacovsky were an artist.
Were you an artist, Mr. Pacovsky?
Well, that's a complicated question.
Try to simplify it.
Well, I definitely enjoyed singing.
I have a list of your achievements here.
You were inducted into the Hall of Shame of Czech pop music in 1991.
Jan Rejzek wrote that you should have drowned instead of Dean Reed, and in the poll "Who Should Go to Prison for Their Music" by Symphony magazine, you placed a nice fourth, right behind the stellar trio of Arnost Patek, Ales Ulm, and Marketa Muchova.
You've been hiding from us for a long time, Tommy.
And when we finally managed to film an official report about you and your delightful family,
you sent your retarded brother after us, who destroyed all the footage.
I was doing wheelies and then the cameraman got in my way.
Jesus Christ, you ruined the footage.
So nothing will come of all this?
But maybe the footage could still be salvaged.
It was an unfortunate accident.
Sure, an accident.
But when you planned this accident, you probably didn't realize you'd only draw attention to yourself.
We at God's Mills grind slowly but surely.
We therefore had to resort to the methods of investigative journalism.
Nice.
How are the new Black Agonies?
Zdar?
Good day, ma'am.
That's a hunk, huh?
Sick.
I found out quite a lot.
But to get Mr. Pacovsky here into our studio, we had to use an unconventional approach.
Don't you want to wave to your daughter?
I'm sure you'll see her again soon.
If you behave.
What hides behind the glossy facade of our mothers' idol?
What is the true nature of the man hiding his real face behind the diminutive Tommy Patsy?
Under his real name Tomas Pacovsky, he hides from the contempt his pop past brings him in a run-down music shop on the outskirts of Prague, which he runs together with his brother, an alcoholic with criminal tendencies, and his daughter Iva, who deals with family frustration by seeking out bizarre relationships.
Please, stop it.
Easy, Ivuska, this is between me and this gentleman.
And me too.
No stripper is going to lure our Ivuska away from home.
Are you a stripper?
I'm not.
What kind of nonsense is this?
But he is.
He'd jump out of a cake for this one.
I am not a stripper.
Hold him.
Load it up in here.
You'll see.
Help.
How is that possible, when did you film this?
I know where, but how?
Hidden camera footage, standard procedure in problem cases.
You smuggled a camera into the Badger?
That's really dirty.
It wasn't that adventurous.
The manager was happy to cooperate.
Restaurant "At the Badger."
Seeing is believing.
Simona.
So you understand that we know a lot.
But we're interested in your interpretation of the facts.
You've undergone an interesting transformation, Tommy.
From a singer who was everyone's laughingstock, you've turned into a failing businessman.
Don't you see that as divine punishment?
Well, I wouldn't see it so clearly.
I don't know where you got information about our finances, but we actually are...
From your accountant.
Well, so to the first part of the question.
I don't think I was everyone's laughingstock.
You know, I had a lot of positive responses.
And a lot of involuntary listeners whose lives you've marked forever.
Well, but also a lot of willing female fans.
We searched long for one who would still be willing to talk about it today without us having to pixelate her face and change her voice.
But believe it or not, one such person really is still alive.
And Tomas will really have a segment on the Czech Nightingale Awards?
Yes, it will be a surprise for him.
I always knew he'd come back one day.
Fine, fine, but could we talk about what we agreed on?
Of course, of course.
So...
I've prepared this for you.
It's a record from Tomas's last major concert.
Saturday, the 10th
of February 1990, Bruntal.
How easily people can condemn a top artist when he doesn't suit their purposes.
Due to the post-revolution resentment, Tomy had to cancel his entire concert tour.
Even the Prague House of Barricaders chose a textile sale over him.
Only Bruntal remained loyal.
There were seven of us in the pit below the stage, but our screaming made us sound like a crowd of thousands.
When he sang for us for the last time, walk with me through the countryside, only roses grow there now.
That I don't think of another, your love is to blame.
The world seemed more bearable and tightening belts didn't seem so terrifying anymore.
Thanks for everything, Tommy.
Not only the swallows, you too will return one day.
I'm sure of it.
You remember.
Do you want to come back, Tommy?
Well, it's a different time now.
Different, meaning worse.
No, I said different.
And you meant worse.
If it weren't for the revolution, you could still be brainwashing the youth and getting paid in vouchers.
I suffered too, you know.
I had to go to a festival in Mongolia.
Have you ever had kumis?
Do you know how Alla Pugacheva kisses?
Thankfully that's all over.
I definitely don't miss it at all.
Really?
Are you sure?
You'll soak into me like rain, and I'll soak into you.
You won't find such happiness, even if you went to heaven.
Please, could I speak with my daughter now?
Unfortunately, she doesn't have her phone on her.
Is that hers?
Tough luck.
Fine then.
Sometimes I miss being more famous, yeah.
People used to smile at me more back then too.
It's true, in Hungary we always had everything.
There were never problems with tangerines either.
But don't get me wrong.
I still had to stand in line for windshield wiper blades.
Like everyone else.
See, it's coming out of you now.
Slowly but surely.
Excuse me, could I get some water?
No.
Your brother, Mr. Pacovsky, works for you?
Yes, I employ him.
What salary do you pay him?
I'm sorry?
He's your employee, you surely pay him.
How much?
I don't really know off the top of my head, would you accept the answer in beers?
Tomas Pacovsky, a.k.a. Tommy Patsy.
This idol of Husak's children exploits his retarded alcoholic brother.
No, no, please, that sounds terrible, don't say it like that.
How should I say it?
Hi, Simona.
Hi.
How come it's so empty?
People don't come.
I come all the time.
You come, but you don't pay.
How much?
Fifteen hundred.
And that's not counting the wrecked paneling in the bathroom.
There was a poster of Heidi Janku glued on, couldn't be torn off.
Now I put up a Rolling Stones one.
You're a fan too?
No.
They had the biggest poster.
It covered the whole hole.
You're my bro.
You're not getting paid.
You're a jerk.
Let's say I cover his expenses from his salary.
Is he disabled, that he can't pay for himself?
He's not disabled, how dare you?
Look, I don't have a bed.
I can reach the ceiling.
Uncle, quiet.
Ivuska.
I went feral.
Boy oh boy, that was some salmon.
Who would've thought?
Salmon.
It looks like a cow with antlers but it tastes like fish.
Well sometimes he behaves a bit... a little eccentrically.
How eccentrically?
That's weird, we already fixed that there.
Ozzak.
You didn't leave any there?
Don't worry, Daddy.
What's that supposed to mean?
No more traffic accidents.
You have to put those signs back immediately.
The locations of the stolen signs are guarded by police in case the criminals return to the scene.
Who has an alarm clock?
Well, he just doesn't behave entirely normally.
So an uninformed person might sometimes think he's a bit out of it.
But everything he does or says has its own logic.
You don't forget how to play drums.
It's like riding a bike.
Yeah.
And do you remember how it went when you tried to ride a bike again two years ago?
What about it?
I dodged the dachshund.
Yeah, but not its owner.
She managed to jump out of the way.
Under the wheels of an oncoming car?
That car braked.
Yeah, but at that moment three more crashed into it.
So what, everyone survived.
Even the cop said nothing really happened.
Yeah, until you ran over his foot.
See, two years and you still remember it.
And what's your point?
That you don't forget how to ride a bike.
You've made that clear.
But tell me, where do you pay for him?
Where?
At a friend's.
Well, a former friend's.
At a restaurant.
Does she give you a commission?
That's nonsense.
I simply pay whatever my brother drinks.
Often exceeding his monthly income.
So you're actually enabling alcoholism in this poor man.
Ozzak is not an alcoholic.
Beer.
Beersy.
Little beer, I can't believe I went so long without those words.
Marcelka, I need to talk to you.
Ozzak talked to me all morning, but he kept saying practically the same thing.
Twelve-degree, lager, dark, yeast, those words just caress the tongue, bro.
Marcelka, I'm worried.
I feel like he's overdoing it with work.
It's nice that he's trying.
Barley malts, hop products, lactic acid.
Ozzak, you know how I once promised I'd never let you leave work early.
Well, today-
Really?
Thanks.
Ozzak and alcoholic, that's an exaggeration.
He simply has a good relationship with beer.
Really?
So, beef in cream sauce, a small beer, Ozzak, thirteen hundred.
But don't you think Ozzak's consumption is increasing?
What do you mean?
I just have a feeling.
Wait, that could be a problem.
The boss built his entire business plan on Ozzak's consumption.
What's that you've got?
An Ozo-meter.
Well, from '99 on, based on this he could run a brewery.
Sure, this is where Ivuska was born.
Aha, and here you stopped singing in public.
There's the '99 dip, but otherwise completely stable.
The boss got a loan based on this.
Your brother really isn't an alcoholic?
He's not.
Those were from driving school.
Ozzak actually showed up there.
Jesus Christ.
And does anyone tell him you can't drink behind the wheel?
He supposedly has a shot beforehand.
If God's Mills finds out, they'll make a two-parter about us.
To be perfectly honest, I've never really thought about it in detail.
What a family.
The cunning younger brother, who lived like a king under the communist regime, exploits and abuses his delayed, antisocial sibling, whom he deliberately turned into an alcoholic.
And here we have modern-day slavery.
Man, you're a real piece of work.
I'm starting to regret we didn't plan a two-parter for you.
Well, I'll tell you something, Mr. Zak.
Your show is real filth.
It's your filth, you should keep your house in order.
And what about your methods?
The viewers might be interested in your methods.
You kidnapped my daughter and won't tell me where she is.
I demand that you tell me what's going on with my daughter.
I can tell you who's with your daughter.
Who?
Vasil and Abdul, my colleagues.
Well actually, only Vasil is my colleague, he and Abdul know each other from Crimea.
But don't worry, Vasil has always managed to handle Abdul so far.
You're all Vasils and Abduls from Crimea?
Don't take it so hard, your time is almost up.
I actually have just one last question for you.
Who is this?
That's a kid from the neighborhood.
Lexa.
Your family has a special relationship with him, don't you?
Grandma, come visit again sometime.
No, dammit!
What kind of a slip is that?
No, it's not a slip, those are gloves.
Lexa.
Sorry, Mr. Pacovsky, Mom probably stopped shaving her legs.
That's a hunk, huh?
They opened a new stand across the street.
But watch out for me.
Well, he's at our place quite often.
Often?
That's a rather mild word, don't you think?
He's the son of my friend.
Well, former friend.
Friend.
I see.
The aim of this show is to reveal who those people really were, the ones who brainwashed you with their whiny little songs.
How...
All you need is a few friends and if we stay true to ourselves, we'll handle everything on our own.
Especially if we're not mean and we're children of paradise, the girls from your kindergarten will remain the best.
What was the name of the song on the B-side of your famous single?
The Truth That Hurts.
The lyrics were loosely based on Villon.
That fits.
I've already got plenty of catches under my belt.
Thanks to discipline and self-denial.
How else would the public have learned that Karel Gott's real name is Ludek Bina, had I not spent two weeks in his office disguised as a lamp.
Weeks of surveillance around Tommy Patsy's family also paid off.
Although the real bombshell had to be uncovered in Celadna.
Where Mr. Pacovsky went to a trade fair for alcoholic supplies.
Which our source, whom we thank, tipped us off about once again.
The home of a true drinker.
Our source, however, didn't expect that he himself would become the protagonist of the scandal our show is about to launch.
The fake hotel renovation, where our target checked in without suspecting that a camera was hidden behind every cement mixer, paid off.
So rooms, rooms, right?
Easy for you to say rooms, but I've only got one room ready for you, 'cause we're kind of in the middle of renovations, right?
But looking at you two, it probably won't bother you anyway, will it?
Just a moment.
I'm requesting my room that I reserved.
I have a right to it and I'm not leaving until I get the keys.
Well come on then.
So the gentleman's a bit nervous, isn't he?
Fine then, we'll do two, as you wish.
There.
Happy?
Enjoy your stay.
At this point I must thank my acting coach.
It wasn't easy for me to be so slimy.
Now we'll show you the dark family secret of Tomas Pacovsky.
About which we still don't know enough.
Where are we?
And where are the kids?
The kids are at home with Ozzak.
My brother.
Well then I'm not worried, if they're with your brother.
I am though.
Yeah.
We probably shouldn't have left them alone with Ozzak, right Tomas?
But they'll manage, the kids are resourceful.
Tell me what's going to happen with us instead.
Are you going to leave me again?
What do you mean, what's going to happen with us?
You're my husband, Libor.
Don't you forget that.
I'm not Libor.
You don't know anything.
But those kids are yours, Tomas.
And there it is.
Nice-guy Tommy Patsy denies his own son and lets him live in squalor.
That's not true at all.
When Simona is drunk, she confuses everyone with Libor.
Why are you telling me this?
So that viewers don't think I have children I don't take care of.
And do you?
No, I don't, I don't, I don't.
Then you went through all that trouble for nothing.
We'll cut out your "no" anyway.
So, Mr. Pacovsky, the final question is, what kind of person are you really?
Water!
Weigh the water!
I think this speaks for itself.
Please stop, stop!
What is it, what are you doing?
Where were you?
What did they do to you?
Nothing, they showed me where they film the show and where Borhy has her dressing room.
Did you see she's a brunette?
She has a lot of blonde wigs there.
And those two guys?
That's Vasil and Abdul.
Producers.
Hello.
Hey, Vasil has a cottage in Crimea.
He says I could go there in the summer.
Please.
This is how God's mills grind.
Perhaps slowly, but relentlessly.
See you next time.
And you came up with this show?
Yes, Mr. Director, but I must say that I'm obviously not working on it alone, that...
What are the ratings?
Who'd be interested in kicking dead bodies anyway?
Exactly.
But your contract is expiring soon, isn't it?
Yes, Mr. Director, it is, but I've...
Pisek is so adorably cute that...
Can you tell me why we don't employ people who can come up with shows at least as successful as Emergency Room?
I absolutely don't understand.
By the way, have you come up with anything yet?
Come on, Baron, let's go.
Oh well, my little doggy.
Baron, sit.
Baron, Baron, Baron, lie down.
Okay, let's do object recognition, Baron, yes?
Pick the chicken.
Now?
Baron, which one is the chicken?
That's not a chicken.
This isn't going to work, come on.
What did you say it should be called?
The Funny Tricks of Baron the Dog.
They'd have to approve it for us, right?
I can't get anything out of this dog, he's terribly fixated on round objects.
And he's in a trance.
What are you doing?
Don't forget we have to return that mutt before someone figures out we borrowed him.
Damn!