A small pub on the suburbs. The usual suspects of a Tuesday afternoon sit on flat-set bar stools. Everything as usual - until the door crashes against the wall with a loud bang and Adil bursts in. His black hair tousled. The lip bloody. The jacket tore. Looking for help, he looks around, sees the old German flag. Backs away. But even before Frida and her group of regulars know what is happening to them, three young Nazis enter the pub.
