Smirnoff: "We need an anthem."
Smirnoff: "Make it global. High energy. We want to see authentic, extraordinary nightlife. With lots of bottle shots."
Agency: "What if we shoot a bunch of people going out around the world?"
Smirnoff: "That'll work. With bottle shots?"
Agency: "Lots. And Thai Ladyboys."
Smirnoff: "Great... 'Cept that last part."
Agency: "You won't even notice them."
Smirnoff: "What about the song? We need energy."
Agency: "We're thinking a sad Swedish lady..."
Agency: "...singing KISS..."
Smirnoff: "...with energy?"
Agency: "Nah, she's going to sing it slowly — painfully— like she's been up for six days on the mother of all benders, but now the money's gone, the music's over and she's feeling the stirrings of a hangover that will will last months, if not years. And she can't find her friends, and her lover is long gone. All she has is her voice. And this song — a song she used to sing as a little girl in the back of her mother's car in a more innocent time. Before she could comprehend the dark meaning to Gene Simmon's lyrics. And now she sings, softly, sadly, quietly — to herself. But it does not work. That innocent girl in her mother's car is never coming back."
Agency: "It's quite moving."
Smirnoff: "You'll get bottle shots?"