Well, my back's up against the wall, but...
I'm not giving up on my beer business.
No fucking way. I already proved that it can sell,
and that people love it.
I've just gotta figure out a way to do it
outside of the park.
I mean, I don't understand everything about...
zoning laws and all the legalities.
So I'm gonna go get some advice from somebody
that knows what they're talking about,
so I can do this properly.
I mean, this is about my future
and I've gotta really start thinking about that now,
especially with Ricky and Julian, where they're gonna be...
kept men.
Okay, Bubbles, time to pour on the charm, baby.
Hi there, pretty lady. How are you doing?
- Good. How are you? - I'm fantastic.
How can I help you?
Uh, I was wondering
if I could speak to somebody -
I don't even know what their job title would be -
but somebody that could explain to me
about zoning laws related to making beer.
- Is there anybody... - Are you looking to file a complaint...?
No, no. I run a brewery myself
down at the Sunnyvale Trailer Park with my two best friends.
We make a beer called Freedom 35.
It's un-fucking-believable.
And we have this drunk trailer park supervisor,
he called the fucking city and shut me down,
- 'cause he's jealous, and he's a... - Excuse me.
Did you just say Freedom 35?
- Uh, yeah, Freedom 35. - So that's your beer?
Yeah, that's the beer I make, my recipe.
This is amazing.
I had one of my employees trying to track you down.
Track me down? What do you mean track me down?
Look, do you have time for a quick meeting?
- Yeah... - Kevin Watson.
I'm the President of Halifax Beer.
Hey, Kevin. Bubbles, Freedom 35 beer.
Uh, I could probably take a meeting. I've never been in a meeting before.
Please, step into my office.
All right, all right.
Wait, this isn't a trick where
I go in here and get murdered, is it?
Pretty lady, I got a meeting!
I'm in a meeting!
Ricky and Julian,
holster your penises!
I repeat, Ricky and Julian,
put your little birds away and get the fuck to my shed!
We just won the fucking lottery, baby!
Bubs, it's way too early for that fucking loudspeaker, man.
- Hook up for lunch? - That'd be nice, baby.
She is fucking killing me.
Ricky!
- Julian! - Bubs, calm down.
I just met with the President of Halifax Beer!
- Oh, my fuck! - Take a deep breath, man.
- Get your fucking self together! - He made us an offer...
Okay, hold up, calm down.
He made us an offer, boys.
The President of Halifax Beer...
He wants to put Freedom 35
right across the fucking country.
What the fuck are you... Why would he wanna do that?
- It sounds like a fucking scam. - No Ricky, it's not a scam.
It's the real deal.
He knows about the beer from his uncle that goes to the Legion
and he thinks this could be huge 'cause we're on the TV.
It's real, Julian. Check it.
Did you even read this fucking thing?
- Yes. - It's a 50/50 deal.
We gotta come up with 50 grand to make the first batch.
- Have fun with that one, man. - No Julian, this is a good deal.
This is a good, fair fucking deal.
Look, I don't believe in
cosmic fucking bullshit or fate or spirituality,
Doug Henning-type stuff.
But think about it.
We made a beer called Freedom 35 and now this is happening.
I think something's...
- something's at play here! - Bubs...
- We did it. - It's $50,000! How...
How are we just gonna come up with $50,000, huh?
Well, that's really a technicality
- at this point, isn't it? - Ha.
Julian, if we work hard and use our brains, we can do this.
What if we put up one of those crowdfunding things
you see on the internet?
People make money doing that, crowdfunding.
The fuck you talking about? Why would we fund a crowd?
That makes no sense.
No Ricky, I don't mean that.
Come on, Julian. Come on, use your brains.
- We can do this. - Listen to me
and don't fucking freak out.
What if I said there was a way to do this, very easily, probably today?
Is it illegal?
Very, bud. Obviously, right?
Yeah, well, obviously
I don't want any part of it.
Ricky, I'm not getting tangled up in that fucking bullshit
- and ruining our one chance at salvation. - I hear you.
I got a perfect thing going with Candy. I'm not ruining that for anything.
All right, fucking relax! It was just an idea.
Look boys, this might sound fucked,
a little bit fucked,
but maybe the three of us, we just go down to the bank and say,
"Look, we need a loan."
They might give us a loan.
Bubs, Bubs... We can't even get a fucking debit card, man.
Jesus.
Well... we're not just gonna give up, Julian!
This is your fucking field!
You should be able to come up with this.
Come on, please!
Okay, I got it. I got it.
You can do it?
- I might be able to get us some money. - Okay, but nothing illegal.
No.
Nothing illegal?
No.
Good morning, guys. Beautiful day out there.
Well, you could fucking knock.
What a nice-looking breakfast you've got here.
Ricky!
- All right, Lahey! - What?
I need some quick cash, you owe me a ton of it!
Hand over the fucking papers to that car and this trailer. I'm selling them!
Julian, I can't give you the fucking papers!
Wrong answer!
- Julian! - Hand over the papers!
Julian, I don't have any fucking papers!
Hand over the fucking papers!
Or else I'm gonna give him my blessing
to come in here every goddamn morning to ruin your life!
- Yeah! - J-Julian...
- Julian, we've got no papers! - Wrong fucking answer!
We don't fucking own the car or the fucking trailer!
- Wrong answer! - Ricky!
Ricky! Ricky! Hang on, hang on!
- What? - What did you say?
Barb owns the car and the trailer and every fucking thing that's in it!
- That sounds like another fucking lie! - Ricky! Ricky! That's enough!
That's eno... That's enough!
Barb owns everything?
Yeah, that's what I was trying to tell you.
Oh my fuck.
Right, how much money do you guys have on you?
I...
Nothing.
Well, I've got $18,
- but that's for pizza night tonight. - Not anymore.
- Ricky! - Does Barb own this fucking toaster oven?
That was my toaster oven!
Fuck...
Oh my frig, Mr. Lahey!
Thanks for letting me do that with you, Julian.
Really means a lot to me. You're a fucking good friend.
This is so fucked. We've got this crazy deal on the table,
one that could probably retire us,
and no way of making it fucking happen.
How big do you think it could be?
Could be huge, man. Are you kidding me?
Right across the country?
Bubbles is on to something here, man.
Well, I told you.
There is a way to make this happen.
Okay, what is it, for fuck's sakes?
- Just hear me out. - All right.
It took a bit of fucking around...
But I just got the Indiegogo campaign all live and launched,
so now we just let the fucking money start rolling in on that front.
In the meantime,
I'm gonna fucking go deal with some deadbeats
who have been dodging me.
Attention, residents of Sunnyvale,
anyone with an outstanding beer tab,
your fucking luck just ran out.
Marguerite, come on down!
You're the first contestant on You Owe Me Fucking Money.
$118.
Cecil Cameron, $148.
Fuck off with the fucking announcements!
Oh Donnie, okay, I'm coming after you too, bud.
$267.
I hope you're willing to suck it out of the eye of my cock,
'cause I don't fucking have it!
Jesus Murphy, Donnie, the fucking language!
Easy on the fucking deck, man.
It just slipped right out of my fucking hand.
How you making out, Bubs?
Hey, I'm making out great actually, Julian.
I've got $416 collected from customers.
I've got the internet campaign up and running.
- It's doing great. - Right on. How much you pulling in?
Well, I didn't pull in anything but I got 26 views, boys.
No offence, Bubs, but that's fucking detarded.
Ricky, first of all, that word's never gonna catch on
and second of all, it's not detarded.
I mean, once word of mouth starts flying, it can snowball.
People make a hundred grand a day sometimes on this.
Who? Who the fuck makes a hundred grand a day?
Well... geniuses who invent things
that are gonna change humanity, but still...
Well, we've got a better id... Well...
- Talk to Julian about it. - Ricky!
This thing we were thinking.
Look at me.
You guys are talking about doing illegal stuff.
Bubs, just hear us out, man.
No, I'm not fucking hearing you out
because I'm not interested.
- That's the thing. - Bubs, look.
You said this is the big one, and I agree, okay?
We'll just do it one last time, okay?
Then we retire.
I feel it in my gut. This plan's perfect, flawless.
How many times have I heard you say
those exact fucking words, Julian?
How many times?
Do you guys know what the definition of insanity is?
Do you know what it is?
It's doing the same thing over and over again,
expecting a different result.
I know, but it's gonna be different this time.
- It could be anyway. - This time,
- we're gonna get results, man. - That's right.
Listen to yourselves.
Lis... Okay, how is it fucking different this time?
Because we've never had the fucking big guy on our side before.
The big g...? Ricky,
tell me you're not talking about fucking God right now.
I'm not talking about fucking him or her.
Remember the cow shit I shoved under the trailers
- to fucking get rid of the rats? - Yeah, I remember very vividly
you filling my truck with shit and destroying it.
Well, guess what? That wasn't normal cow shit.
That was fucking angel shit sent down from Jesus God.
- Ugh... - Angel...?
What in a flying fiddler's fuckstrap are you talking about?
Jesus God growed mushrooms under all the fucking trailers in the park.
Fucking beautiful little perfect magic mushrooms,
thousands of the fucking things!
Thousands of the fucking things...
So, you have a shit ton of mushrooms.
You said you had a fucking few, Ricky! You fucking lied again!
Well, technically I didn't lie to you. When I said a few,
I may have forgot to add the word "garbage bags" to that.
And sometimes a few means four or five, right?
- I've used it to say four or five before. - Oh, yeah...
Look, Bubs, Bubs. Whyever it's fucking happened,
there's thousands of the fucking things,
enough to get this beer launched, man.
One-shot deal. We do this, we retire, man.
Like... no more breaking the fucking law,
no more bullshit.
We're retired. For sure.
- A one-shot deal? - A one-shot deal, man.
Ah, come on, buddy. Just like the fucking Blue Man brothers.
Oh, my God.
I'm insane! I'm insane, everybody!
Oh, my fuck!
Okay, listen, if I agree to this,
just so we're clear, this has nothing to do
with magic angel shit being sent down from God
to send us on an everlasting quest for fucking divine fucking peace.
All right, so are we gonna do it?
God fucking damn it!
Yes!
Yeah-h-h!
- Don't be jerking me off. - Yes!
You won't regret this, buddy.
Boop!
Christ, were you two fighting? What the hell happened in here?
Hello, George. Two of our best friends dropped over,
Ricky and Julian.
They asked if they could have the papers for the fucking trailer and for the car.
It seems that Julian
is in fucking need of some quick cash
and, uh, he told me he's gonna send Ricky over
every fucking morning and destroy our fucking place!
Those guys had better back the fuck off.
You're not coming up with or giving them anything.
What? We're supposed to just let them come in here
- and smash our shit up every day? - Jesus, you're stupid, Randy!
Why don't you fuck off, go eat yourself to death?
Jim and I will handle this.
Go on!
- Frig's sakes... - Listen, Jim.
If they're that desperate for money,
they're either in a really bad situation
or they're up to something really big.
We're gonna take 'em down,
you and me.
Ow! For fuck's sakes! Piece of shit!
Fuck. Jesus, Jim.
Oh, that carrot-eating slut-cumber!
Three bucks a fucking gram? Reggie, come on!
You can tell him to take his chocolate-covered ostrich balls
and ram them right up a moose's fucking ass!
There has to be another option here, Reg.
No, I'm not fronting the fucking things! Fuck that!
It's cash, up front.
Oh, for fuck's sakes...
Yeah, I know it's a lot,
but it's a serious fucking opportunity for the right fucking person here.
It's three bucks a gram, Reggie! That is fucked!
Jesus fucking Christ, all right, set it up: 50 Gs.
But I'm going to need another couple of hours now at least. Fuck!
Ricky, come on, for fuck's sakes, would you?
Let's get this show on the road, I wanna get it over with.
- We got a serious fucking problem. - What?
- Oh, yeah... - I can only get three bucks a gram now.
We're gonna need 37 pounds, gonna have to pick another garbage bag,
- that's only 29 or 30 fucking pounds. - Here we fucking go!
Here we go! "Oh, this is gonna be easy," you guys said.
One fucking sale!
Now we're right back into the fucking bullshit
and we're gonna get fucked!
- Bubs, calm down. Calm down! - Don't fuck my car.
Cory, Jacob, round up the Roc-Pile, see if they'll help us out.
Offer 'em a quarter pound of these fucking things, okay?
- Okay. - Okay. Go!
It's all right. A little bump here, boys.
We've got this though.
- I mashed my ball. - Good.
No, like I mashed it good.
Pretty much picked all of 'em, we're gonna have to look for stragglers.
So spread out, boys.
I can't believe there were mushrooms under all these trailers
and we didn't even know.
You one sly-ass motherfucker.
It wasn't me, it was fucking Jesus God.
Yo, stop, everybody.
Yo, I got a hole in my bag.
You got a hole in your fucking head.
See if you can figure it out. Solve it, Cory.
- Jacob? - Yo.
- Can I put my bag in your bag? - Sure, man.
Yeah, man.
Double bag, double mushrooms.
Double fucked!
They're going under the trailers
and they have bags.
Those sneaky fuckers.
They're growing weed under there, guaranteed.
Move in a little closer, Georgio.
Yeah, that's what they're doing,
growing weed under the trailers.
You moron!
Maybe they're not doing anything illegal.
I think we should do nothing, and just leave them alone.
- You paranoid, psychotic lunatic! - That's enough!
Go make yourself useful! Go make some popcorn!
They're all there.
There's Cory, there's Jacob.
The Roc-Pile's there.
Look at this, Jim. This is great.
All the boys.
Julian, Ricky, Bubbles. We've got these bastards. Ha! Ha!
Hey, we found a whole batch over here, dude!
Yeah, there's a few under here, too, Cory.
Make sure you get those.
- Ricky, how are you doing? - We must be getting close, boys.
Let's pick these and take 'em back and weigh them.
Hey, baby. Yep.
No, I can't make it today.
Yeah, beer meetings all afternoon.
- I know. I miss you, too. - What the fuck is that thing?
Ah, decent! It's a drone!
Who the fuck's flying it? Is there somebody inside that thing?
No, Ricky. Somebody around here...
Oh, just wait! Just wait!
Oh my fuck! That could be a police drone.
- There's a camera on that thing, Ricky. - What are you talking about?
Okay, just act natural, everybody.
Fuck you!
- Jesus Murphy! - Ricky lighting off fireworks.
You sure no one's in there, Bubs, like Gazoo or something?
Ricky!
Fuck you, Gazoo!
Ricky, Gazoo was a fictional character on The Flintstones.
- Holy fuck, boys. - That shit was real.
Put that fucking gun away! You use your head.
Put it away!
- What if that was a police drone? - Well, it's fucking dead now, isn't it?
- Oh, for fuck's sakes! - Fuck!
Holy fuck!
- That son of a fucking bitch! - Holy Jesus, Randy!
Now he's done it.
- Ricky shot the drone down! - I'll get the bastards charged
with destruction of property, if nothing else.
Let's go, Jim. Let's take them down.
Don't go down there, Mr. Lahey. George is crazy.
Please don't go down that path.
You shut your fucking mouth. You're nothing here but a waste of food.
You wanna get slapped across the face again,
you grease-covered minion? Huh? Do you? Keep talking!
Mr. Lahey, you've got to choose right now between George or me.
Oh, go cry in the fucking bedroom, Randy,
- you fat fucking cow! - Ooh!
Come on, Jim.
Let's go show them who's boss.
- George. - What?
You're fired.
Fuck...
- Un-fucking-believable! - You heard me, George.
You're fucking fired!
Unbelievable, you fucking pussies!
We were that close to winning this whole thing.
You really want to think this through, Jim.
You can't fire me.
You need me! I'm your muscle!
- Is that right, George? - Yes!
Well, guess what?
I'm the fucking supervisor and you are the fucking fired.
Now, get the fuck out of here.
Now!
- Okay, fine. - Yeah.
I'll send them to jail myself. Have a nice life, fuckheads!
- Yeah. - Frig off, George!
- Never cry shit wolf, George! - Good one, Mr. Lahey.
Thanks, Randy.
I love you, bud.
I'm sorry I didn't s...
stick up for you a little bit sooner.
Well, you did, Mr. Lahey, and that's what matters.
- I love you too, buddy. - Thanks.
Let's make Sunnyvale great again, Randy.
- Okay, Mr. Lahey. - All right.
It's so cool these things came out of cows.
And they look like skinny dudes with big hats on 'em.
Cory, can I get your fucking brain analyzed by a profession...
Boys... Ricky, George Green's right behind us!
- Hide the mushrooms. - Fuck's sakes, meet back at the shed,
I'll deal with this. Get those fucking things weighed.
All right, let's go.
Can I fucking help you?
- Hope so. - Oh, yeah?
- Question for you, just curious. - Yeah?
What exactly are you doing under all the trailers?
None of your fucking business. I've got a contract with Barb.
I'm allowed to be under any one of these fucking trailers.
- I know what you're doing. - Yeah?
It took me about 10 seconds. Growing weed.
Guess you should've thought of it a little longer than 10 seconds, George.
How the fuck would you grow weed under trailers?
It's dark and they're not high enough.
That is hands down the dumbest thing I have ever been accused of!
- Then you don't mind if I take a look. - Knock yourself out.
I'm dealing with the fucking cow shit to get rid of the rodents, dummy!
Go ahead, get right under there, take a good fucking look, George.
Back off, Rick!
You're being detained anyway for destruction of property.
That drone you shot down, that was worth over $5,000.
No idea what you're talking about. I fired one shot
at this weird-looking birdy thing, I don't think I hit it.
- Really? - Yeah.
Better get the police down here to get this sorted out. What do you think?
Or we could do this.
Jesus Christ!
I just replaced that fucking thing!
You can't smash every phone in this park, Rick.
- Is that right? - Don't stray too far.
Lick my tan balls, how about that, George?
How we making out, boys?
Just getting the last ones on here.
- Nice. - Holy fuck,
- there's more than I thought though. - Right on.
I think we should be all right.
- Okay, just wait. - What's it saying?
It's looking like... uh, 96, but...
Cory, stop leaning on the fucking thing!
Okay boys, with these,
the grand total with the other ones, 37.5 pounds.
- Yes! - Yes!
Make it an even 37,
I'm not giving that piss goblet any extra, not for that fucking price.
Gotta move it out. Cops are on the way.
Fucking George Green. "Ooh, I shot down..."
- Whoa, whoa, whoa... - Fucking asshole!
I can't go if there's cops involved.
What are you talking about?
It was fucking dumb shooting that goddamned thing down.
No way I'm putting my relationship on the line
- over your fucking stupidity. - Just wait now.
If you're not going,
- I'm not fucking going. - I'm not going, man.
I wasn't even supposed to be involved.
Okay, boys. What the fuck is happening here?
'Cause I'm not doing this by myself. Fuck that!
So are we doing this,
or am I flushing these down the fucking toilet?
Ah, for fuck's sakes.
As soon as we do this fucking deal, boys,
we need to get some fucking food. I'm dying here.
How about we just stay focused on the fucking job
and worry about food later?
I'd like a big hot dog, a jumbo dog or something maybe.
Whoa, whoa, whoa...
Okay, boys, boys, boys...
Oh, for fuck's sakes! Are you kidding me?
It's okay. The fuck is he doing putting his lights on?
- I'm not even speeding. - You kidding me?
What is he... Oh, my fuck, he's wheeling around.
You know what? It must have been fucking George.
What an idiot! He probably called the fucking cops.
- But it's all right. - What are we gonna do?
Boys, everybody calm the fuck down. We're good here, all right?
George didn't know about the mushrooms.
Just let Ricky do what Ricky does best.
- We're fine. - Boys, I'm freaking out!
I'm freaking out!
Stay calm. We're good. We're okay here.
I wish I was fucking high, though, I know that.
- Ricky, be quiet, be quiet. - fucking idiot.
- How are you doing today, sir? - I am doing fucking awesome.
How you doing?
J.P. Cormier, just coming from the studio.
- What... the singer? - Yeah.
Oh, I got all your albums. I love your music.
Oh, right on. That's great.
Mr. Cormier, can you tell me why
you don't have a license plate on your vehicle?
Yes, I can. Good reason for that actually.
I just bought the car to put in a music video.
That's why it's missing the door and, uh,
we're gonna register it right now.
- Oh, I see. - Yeah.
Hey, can you tell me which one of these two is Ricky?
We just dropped Ricky down at the mall.
He said he needed to buy some underpants or something
- and was gonna get a hold of us later. - Ah, shit, that's too bad.
I pulled you guys over
because of the incident at Sunnyvale Trailer Park.
Okay. What incident was that?
I wanted to shake Ricky's hand. I heard what he did
to our ex-Chief of Police.
Shot down his drone!
- Fucking hilarious. - I was there for that.
That was fucking funny. He fucked him over good.
Fucking George. George is so fucked!
Anyhow, George called it in, so we have to talk to Ricky.
- Just doing our job. - Yeah, yeah...
Can you do me a favour?
Can you tell Ricky to just chill out for a bit,
so we don't have to drain any more of the Department's time and resources?
- Yes. - We can do that.
Don't know him that well, I got his number.
I'll give him a call and say, "Bud, fucking chill out.
You're wasting police money here. It's not a cool thing, right?"
Great, thanks. Well, listen, enjoy the rest of your day, guys.
- Have a good one. - You, too, sir, thank you very much!
- Oh, my fuck. - See, we're good.
- Oh, oh! Uh, I almost forgot. - Yeah?
- Your brake light's flickering. - Okay, thank you.
Probably a loose bulb. Why don't you pop the trunk? I'll take a look for you.
Ah, you know what? I really appreciate that
but we're kind of in a rush, and I couldn't anyway.
The guy that fucking owned the car before me
welded the fucking trunk shut. It doesn't open.
Are you sure? I don't see any of the... any welds on the seams.
Well, he... he said he went in through the back seat.
Something about it made the weld stronger...
- He did. - From underneath...
Hand me the keys. I think he was just fucking with you.
- I'll pop it open for you. - Know what? That'd be great.
Anything you can do to help out, officer, I would really appreciate it.
- Thank you. - Sir, is there another reason
why you don't want me to see inside your trunk?
God, no. You can go in the trunk.
Have a little nap there if you want. My trunk is fair game to everybody.
Mr. Cormier,
can you step out of the vehicle for me?
Sure, yeah. I can do that. Just... right in this area here or...
Okay, everybody out of the vehicle now!
- Jesus, Ricky! What are you doing? - We got no fucking choice!
There's four bags of fucking mushrooms in the trunk!
Oh, my fuck!
- Go! Go! Go! Go! - He's coming, boys!
He's coming after us, and he's coming hot!
We're okay, Bubs. Look at the fucking lead I'm opening.
- We're losing him! - Right turn here! Right turn!
Oh! Ricky!
Oh, my Jesus Christ!
You're doing good, man! You're doing good!
Right turn into the junkyard.
My God! What the fuck?
- Oh my fuck... - Take a right.
- We just blew the radiator. - What?!
Why are we turning into a fucking junkyard?
We're gonna have to bail! We're gonna blow the fucking engine!
Stay to the right!
Oh, yeah, let's go into a junkyard, Julian,
where we have no fucking escape route!
Just shut the fuck up! We're gonna bail!
The temperature's going right up here, okay?
We're gonna have to fucking go into the woods...
Oh, yeah, let's have a fucking foot pursuit!
That's even better!
When I stop, grab a bag of mushrooms, get the fuck into the woods, Bubs!
We're fine here! We're okay.
Let's go! Everybody out!
"Yeah, this will be easy," you said.
Now we're in a fucking foot pursuit!
Grab a fucking bag of mushrooms! Go! Go! Go!
Fuck, I think we lost them, boys.
Fucking sucks about my car but I guess I'll get another one.
How the fuck do you expect
they're not gonna just trace that one back to us anyway?
Because when I bought it, I signed Randy Lahey.
Nice.
I think we did it, boys. We're in the fucking clear.
I fucking hope so...
Just wait! Listen!
Oh, the fucking K9 unit!
- All right, let's run! - K9 unit!
God damn it!
I forgot how fun it is running from the cops!
Oh yeah, this is a fucking treat, Ricky!
Just a fucking treat!
I fucking love you guys.
Get the fuck in the truck!
- Thank God for country people... - Get in!
Leaving their fucking keys in their vehicles.
Are we just taking a truck?
We're just fucking taking it.
Let's just go, Ricky.
Hey, fuckers!
Jesus Christ, fuck!
Everybody okay?
I hope to fuck they're still here.
There he is. Fuck.
Let's just get this fucking over with, boys.
Oh, my God.
It's almost done, Bubs.
Oh, look who decides to show up.
Who the fuck do you guys think you are, making us wait out here
for over a goddamn hour? Fuck you, fuck you and fuck you!
That's it, the deal is off!
You can't even imagine what the fuck we just went through to get here!
We've got the 'shrooms. Give us our fucking cash!
Guys, guys... relax.
- I'm just fucking around with you. - Jesus Christ, cold play!
- Yeah, you almost got fucking shot. - All right, come on, guys.
Let's do this motherfucking deal, huh?
I'm gonna need you to shut that fucking shit down
right the fuck now.
You heard him, snail muff. Shut the fucking cameras down!
Holy fuck I was hungry.
Here, boys. These are as cold as a whore's heart.
- Yeah! - Thanks, buddy.
This had to be
the most fucked up, scariest day of my life.
I hear you. But was it fucking worth it, though?
Yes.
- There you go! - Boys, you realize
this is the first time in history
that we've pulled off a job this successfully?
- No, it's not. - Ever. It is, Ricky.
Now, knock on wood, everybody.
Finally. I mean, it was a bit risky.
It was pretty dumb but, boys,
our future's looking pretty fucking bright right now.
Really fucking bright.
Corey Hart couldn't look at our future, baby.
Here we fucking go!
I don't think so! What do you want? Get the fuck out of here!
Tell that dick-twisted George Green to leave me the fuck alone.
He called the cops on me for nothing!
- Calm the frig down, Ricky. - No! I'm not calming the frig down.
- Fuck you! - Mr. Lahey fired George.
- What? - We come in peace.
Julian...
I'd like to take this opportunity
to wipe the slate clean, Julian.
Oh, yeah? How you gonna do that now?
Julian,
I'm gonna tell you something.
And after I finish telling you,
you're probably gonna wanna beat the shit out of me.
But it's a shit weight I need to have lifted off my shoulders.
- Mr. Lahey, are you sure... - Randy.
Randy...
Randy and I...
we had $25,000 we were gonna give to you, Julian,
and honest... But I lost it at the racetrack.
You lost 25 grand at the fucking racetrack?
Are you fucking kidding me?
- I was drunk, Julian. I was drunk! - Julian, just...
- take a deep breath. - Now we have nothing, Julian.
We're totally broke. If I ever... money,
I would give it to you. All of you, Julian.
I'm sorry, so... You can...
pound the shit out of me if you want to,
but please don't fucking let Ricky come every fucking day
for the rest of our lives and wreck our fucking trailer!
- Okay, Julian... - We'll fucking see, won't we?
Take a deep breath, Julian. Think hard about this.
You think about the future that we were just talking about.
And if you hold him down and pound on him,
what's that going to accomplish?
Nothing. Think. Use your brains.
What are you talking about, pounding?
It took a lot of balls to tell me the truth.
- Thank you, I appreciate it. - There you go.
- Let it out. - You know what?
We're all getting too old for this bullshit,
- okay? - Yeah.
And our lives are finally coming together,
and I'm getting married for fuck's sakes.
- There we go. - Congratulations, Julian.
- So, it's like... - Look, just... Julian...
I think what he's trying to say...
and I speak for all three of us. Boys...
I do.
We are willing to let the past be the past.
- Yeah? - Right?
That's great.
- Right. - Yeah, okay.
For the future.
That's very gracious of you, guys.
- And, uh, I think I can speak for the... - Ran...
- Ran. - Thanks, Mr. Lahey.
As I was saying, I think I can speak for the two of us too,
and we agree, the past is the past.
Yeah, that's what I just said, Randy, but good try, bud.
- This is very exciting! - Yeah!
A new era.
Okay.
- All right, you're sweaty, you smell. - Might be too early for that type...
- That's it, Randy! - Okay, that's enough.
Might be too early for that.
I love you, Randy. All right.
- Thanks, Julian. - Thanks, Julian.
- Have a good night, fel... - Whew.
Ricky, Rick!
He shit himself. He shit himself.
So does that cancel everything we just talked about?
No.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck off! Fuck!...
Fuck off! Jesus Christ!
Fuck.
Fuck off.
Hope you enjoyed the episode Corrected by Hakimpac</font