Goon (2011) - full transcript

All right, boys, here we go!

So, Huntsie, I was wondering,

how long does it take you
to get your hair like that?

About four hours.

It's nice.

Smitty thinks you look
like Stevie Wonder on steroids...

- ...but I like it.
- Fuck you!

Ooh! Look at that face pussy
that rookie gave you.

I think I nailed him.

Vicious slash
to the side of the head...

Doug! Get to work!



...Ross Rhea!

It says here
that you have brown eyes.

Come on!

You actually have blue eyes
in real life.

I'm not paying anything!
Fuck!

I'm really sorry, man.

Fuck...

- What's the problem, Jerry?
- I didn't win anything!

That's because it's a jukebox, Jerry.

- Nice.
- Thank you.

Mr. and Mrs. Goldsmith,
you guys look too young.

You have to bring your IDs next time.
Otherwise I'm not gonna let you in.

What the hell are you talking about?

Barbara, I'd like you
to meet Dr. and Mrs. Glatt.



- Hi. Nice to meet you.
- How do you do?

And their doctor son, Ira.

- Hi. Great to meet you.
- Pleasure.

Oh, Albee, this is
my youngest son, Doug.

- Hello. Ah!
- Oh, sorry.

So, Ira, have you got
a main squeeze?

A handsome surgeon,
I bet you're batting them off.

My squeeze is late, actually.

Your dad thought you were single.

What do I know?

So, what Ivy League school
are you hiding at, Doug?

Doug did not follow
in the family vocation.

- He's...
- I bounce.

Like a basketball?

Richard!

Hi!

Very close friends.

That's quite the couple, Glatt.

Is he Jewish?

Ah! Come on, stop!

Stop blowing my hat, wind!

For the record,
they're both adopted.

Yes, there he is!
Oh, handsome bastard!

- Come on in! Come on in!
- Thanks.

Fuck, tell me you saw
what fucking Rhea did last night.

It was a pretty brutal chop.

I've fucking never seen Rhea
lose his shit like that before.

He got suspended
for 20 fucking games.

Boston sends him down
to St. John's.

He's 40 years old.

That's it.
He's fucking done, son!

All right, then.
Welcome to "Hot Ice."

Tonight, we have
Ross Rhea's apology.

To Daryl and his family,

I'm deeply sorry for what happened
out there, for what I did.

Jesus, look at him.
It's pathetic!

I have no excuse.

I don't...

Jesus Christ.
I can't stomach this shit any more.

Fucking kills me
to see him like this.

I'll probably feature it
on next week's "Hot Ice"

unless that motherfucker Sully
from Worcester calls in again.

Like, last week, he called in

pretending that he was
from some fucking sweepstakes,

and he told me
that I'd won the grand prize

of 50 cocks in my mouth.

He goes, I have the option
of sucking all 50 at once

or one a month
for 50 fucking months.

Fuck, I'm sorry.
I didn't mean to bring you down, pal.

Oh, no, no.

I...

I don't have a thing, you know?

Like, you have your show.

And my dad and my brother,

they have their doctor thing.

I don't got a thing.

Everybody's got something but me.

Would it help
that I want you inside me?

That I want you to make lemonade
in my chocolate factory?

Fuck this fucking sad shit!

Let's just go watch the Assassins
kick the shit out of Oshawa.

I'll fill your big, thick ass
full of fucking corndogs.

Fuck you, Oshawa!

Ladies and gentlemen,
this is only the first period.

I am predicting that this fucking game
becomes an absolute ass-raping

that only the likes
of fucking Ned Beatty

or, potentially, the cast of "Oz"
can comprehend.

Dougie, any thoughts?

This is fun.
These are tasty treats.

What the fuck is that shit?

- Get in the fucking box!
- Fuck you!

- Get in!
- Fuck yourself!

Bye-bye, bitch!

- Fuck you!
- Psycho!

Welcome to Orangetown, motherfucker!

What the fuck?

You want a fucking piece of me,
you little fucking faggot?

Hey, my brother's gay.

That's it! Fucking...

What the fuck is this?

Oh, shit.
He's coming up here!

You fucking film me,
you little fucking faggot!

Hey, my brother's GAY!

Motherfucker!

Cw!

Oh, attaboy, Dougie!
Kick his fucking head in!

Holy fucking shit!

Look at that face-period!

You see this over here?

You want to take
that word back, please?

Fuck you, faggot!

Yes!

Oh, my God!

Doug! Doug!

...one.

That's my fuckin' boy!

Boner genocide!

I am pretty sure my fucking eyeballs
just ejaculated.

Pat, that's it.

Tonight we have a very special
fucking guest joining us...

Doug "The Thug" Glatt!

I'm a big fan.
It's a good show.

Speaking of fans,
let's go to the phones.

Caller, you're blowing hot ice.

Hi, there.
I was wondering if you like hot dogs.

Huh. That's...

- Yes, I like hot dogs.
- Great!

But I prefer corndogs
because you don't need a bun for it

because the bun is all around it,
and you can eat it from a stick.

You like hot dogs 'cause you like
big cocks in your mouth, son!

You motherfucker!

God-fucking-damn it!

Fuck you, Gus and Brian,
you motherfuckers!

You're supposed to screen this shit!

Fuck this! I'm done!

I've had enough of you

and your fucking sweater-vest,
police-state censorship, okay?

Hi, there! You are the final caller ever
on "Hot Ice".

Oh, hi.
This is Rollie Hortense.

I'm the head coach
of the Orangetown Assassins.

- Yeah? Go fuck yourself.
- Patty, do me a favor.

Let me talk to your buddy there,
Doug, okay?

I'm calling because you impressed
the hell out of me last night,

and a lot of other people, too.

Thank you.

You impress me
a hell of a lot, too.

I'll be direct.

What I want you to do
is come down to the rink tomorrow,

come out there for a tryout.

You think about it, okay?
Tomorrow at 2:30.

Okay. Yeah.

I hope to see you there
tomorrow at 2:30.

Where?

Oh, you guys really shine
in the fucking morning!

Hey, kid!

Dougie!

Doug!

Come on out here, son.

Come on!

Who the fuck is this guy?

Jesus Christ!

Wow, nice wheels, boy.

Stop being mean to my friend!

They're his gay brother's!

What, you never seen
figure skates before?

- Hey.
- Howdy.

Fuck!

I don't know what you
sweethearts are all laughing at.

One and nine,
last time I checked,

so shut the fuck up and let this guy
have his shot, all right?

Coach, you're not actually gonna let
this guy join the team.

You know you're not joining the fucking
Mouse Capades, right, buddy?

You're not trying out for the... the...

What? The... Capades.

Spit it out.

You're a big boy.
Use your big-boy words.

Fuck it.

Shit! Oh, shit!

Motherfucker!

Cocksucker!

Jesus Christ.

Holy lick, boy!

It's just too bad

those are your teammates
that you fucked up out there.

Oh, I'm sorry, sir.

Of course, on the bright side,

those are your teammates
that you fucked up out there.

What do you say, son?
You want to be an Assassin?

Yes, yes.

What number you want to wear?

69!

Take the number 69!

It's hilarious!

Is that number taken?

Dig it in now!
Dig it in!

That's okay.
You got to be shitty to get better.

Push, push, push!
There you go!

You almost got it!
I don't care if you go down.

Glatt! Glatt!

Excuse me.

Shit!

Let's go, Doug!

Hey, Pretty good!
Pretty good!

Way, Way, Way, way better!

Ross "The Boss" motherfucking Rhea.

He is the master.
All right, Fucking Guys Up 101.

- You see what Rhea's doing?
- Mm.

Grabbing onto the fucking meat
right there.

Nothing. Nothing's coming through,
and you're fucking tiring out.

Pow! Bam!

I lure you in
by beating the fuck out of you.

When you come in close
to stop the fucking onslaught...

Boom! Uppercut!

- $6,000 off!
- $5,000 off!

The Thug hates crappy cars!

Sorry, bud.

You're gonna fuck somebody up
real good, kiddo.

- Coach, you wanted to see me?
- Oh, yeah. Hey, Doug.

Yeah, come on in.
Grab a chair.

I got something
I want to discuss with you.

I am truly fucking proud of you.

I'm truly fucking proud of you.

Imagine if you played in a league
where they actually played hockey.

Your talent's wasted here.

I don't know if I have any talent.

You've been touched
by the fist of God, for Christ's sake!

Thank you, sir.

I got a brother, Ron.

He's the coach and general manager
of the Halifax Highlanders.

I've been telling him about you,
and I think you can really help him out.

It all starts
with this player he's got there,

Xavier LaFlamme.

Holy shit, could this guy
dance with the puck!

And he could put
that cocksucker away, too.

100% pure natural skill.

He ends up going
number two overall,

and Montreal grabs him.

Whoo! Number one!

Fourth game of the season,
it's the home opener.

Bam!

Ross "The Boss" Rhea.

Nice hit, eh?

Suffers
a third-degree concussion.

Actually, he's lucky
he wasn't fucking killed.

Time he comes back,
he's scared shitless out there.

And the pressure's really
starting to mount on this kid,

and he really can't hack it.

He starts missing practices.

He starts hanging
with the wrong people.

The rumors, the fuck tapes.
It all starts to add up.

So, that summer, he goes to the club,
says he wants a trade.

They're not gonna trade him.
They send him down... Halifax.

He's with my brother.

All right! That's about all
I can fucking stand, ladies!

You know why we're losing?
'Cause you're fucking shit!

Doug, he wants
to offer you a contract.

This is a farm club.

This is not some league
where you're playing on a team

that's named after
a fucking radio station.

This is one step
under the big league.

You go there.
You watch Frenchie's back.

Maybe you could snap him
out of his slump.

Maybe you can snap
that whole team awake.

Thank you so much!

You don't got to thank me.
This is a great opportunity.

- I'm so glad you see that.
- Did you draw that?

- What?
- The wolf.

- Yeah, of course.
- What's its name?

Loopy.

Frame it and you can remember
your days as an Assassin.

Thanks for Loopy, Coach.

My cousin Sherilyn,
she works for this titty bar

up in Dartmouth
called fucking Night Court.

And she has this
dance move she does

where she drags
her fucking jagged little coke nail

across her C-section scars.

She's been asking me to come up
and watch her dance for ages,

and I've been kind of telling her,

"Ah, that's kind of gross
'cause we're family."

But I don't actually find it that gross.

- Hm. This is me here.
- This one?

Dougie...

beat the shit
out of some jagoffs for me.

I'm gonna be okay, right?

You're the fucking Thug!

You're gonna be
wicked fucking awesome!

I love you, bud.

- I'll miss you, buddy.
- I'll miss you.

Oh, my God! Oh, my God!

There he goes!

That's my friend!
I know Doug "The Thug" Glatt!

I remember when his dick

was a tiny, little
fucking Christmas light!

Halifax! Halifax!

Hello?

Jesus!

Hello?

Fuck!

Did I miss a spot?

I'm sorry.
Nice to meet you.

- Close the fucking door!
- Thank you for having me.

Jesus, it's early!

- I'm Doug Glatt.
- Gord Ogilvey.

Nice to meet you.

So, Dougie, you're the tough Yank
who beats the shit out of everyone.

I don't know about that.

Glad to have you here, bud.

Thanks. I'm happy to be here.

Oh, fuck!
Yeah, my wife left me.

Said she was sick of hockey.

Sick of hockey...

I'm... sorry?

Well, it's pretty much the shitter.

No, thanks. Oh, so nice of you.
No, I'm good. Thanks.

This here is Stevesie.

Anything you need,
you tell me, he'll do it.

Don't hesitate.
Good to meet you.

It's nice to meet you.
I'm Glug Datt. Doug Glatt.

That's Parkey, left winger.
Paying for his med school.

Asians are an industrious people.

I guess hockey is like math to him.

Icing the pucks are like equations,
eh, Parkey?!

Where's my fucking helmet?!

Starting goalie Marco Belchior.

Call him Belchie.
He's from Regina.

- Vagina?
- He drinks a lot of hand sanitizer.

What's so fucking funny, giggly bits?

- We have your mama here.
- Oh, yes!

Look at this beautiful smile!

- There she is!
- Say hello.

Oh! Skull-fuck your mother!

- What? Yes!
- Oh, hump her head!

Just like a Belchie!

You fucking Chernobyl
motherfuckers!

Your mother's pussy's
so fucking tight!

No way a baby come out there!

No way! You adopted!

I'm on your team!
Does anybody else see this shit?

- Oh, what a woman!
- Your turn.

I love you, Mama.

You might want to wash it
before you put on.

- Hi, I'm Doug Glatt.
- Doni.

Two rules, man.

Stay away
from my fucking Percocets,

and do you have
any fucking Percocets, man?

- All right.
- Okay!

What about LaFlamme?
Where's he at?

Probably giving some single mother
herpes in a parking lot.

Oh, sure.

Yo.

Yeah, yeah. Uh.

This the shit right here.

Yeah, this makes me
want to kill somebody.

Turn this shit up.

Real fucking loud.

Okay, boys, let's go flat out!

Give it 121% tonight!

Well, that was
borderline treasonous

and a disgrace to our nation
and its proud and storied history.

My father didn't kick the Nazis'...

And the puck drops!
Face-off win by Hamilton.

Schaffer chips it back to Hall.

Here's Jefferson of the Steelers
in front of the net.

Gets a chance, takes the shot!

Shutout tonight, man!

Save, Belchior!
Now Sacco dishes to Ogilvey.

LaFlamme still looking
to find his game.

Ogilvey to LaFlamme.
Oh, he dodged a bullet there!

Oh, come on, LaFlamme!
Grow a set!

Come on, boys!
Work those corners!

Let's keep it together!

- Don't pinch!
- Halifax pinches in...

Center! Center!

Johnson gets it over.

Here's the shot!
He scores!

Oh, fuck!

- Belchie, five hole!
- Five hole!

Ass-licker!
Am I the only one here?

You Slavic fucking borscht-blooded,
cabbage-headed motherfuckers, man!

Why don't you stop the puck
in your big vagina,

you Russian lesbian?

Get your heads out of your ass, eh?
Jesus!

Come on, boys!

Man on, Kimmy!
Man on!

Now Kim goes into the corner.

- Clean hit. Clean hit.
- Come on! What the fuck?!

He won't be heard from till next week!

You got to make that call, ref!
That's a fucking elbow, Howard!

The doctor needs a doctor.

Bullshit!

Okay, number six, you light him up.

Look, I got it.

Just... Get lost. I got it.

Looks like Ronnie Hortense

is looking for a little spark
to ignite his team.

And that spark
is in the person of Doug Glatt,

and what a spark he'll be!

Come on, you fucking pussy!

- I got him.
- Come on!

Who the fuck are you?

What's up, bitch?
You want some?

Knock him out.

Come on, Dougie!

Ho, doctor!
What a debut!

Attaboy, Dougie!
Attaboy!

Fucking right!

Thank you.

You're welcome.

Did you know that cows only meow when
people are around?

- It's true.
- I read that in "Cat Fancy".

GORD What are these doing here?

Gone!

Here's a little dose.
Little dose.

Here we are!

It's time to welcome...

Hi, guys.

- Doug.
- Doug.

- Yeah.
- Officially.

Through an initiation.
It's gonna be good.

So, uh, what do I have to do?

- Oh, shit.
- Fuck.

Sleep peaceful, old wanderer.

We should sign his dick.

Everyone sign his dick.

- What's happening here?
- What's the matter?

You have a little puss-puss?

Mommy whipped up
a pussy pot pie, huh?

- Let's see what's going on over there.
- Show us your dick.

- I don't want you to see my dick.
- Why you being gay?

I think you're fucking being pretty gay.

- It's not gay!
- Not if you're brothers.

If you're brothers, it's gay
with a fucking dash of something else.

My brother's gay,
and he doesn't even do that.

I've been playing hockey
my whole life.

I never fucking signed
no one's dick, man.

I'll sign your dick, Doug.

Oh, come on! Fuck!
You fucked the carpet!

Oh, I'm sorry.
I can take my shoes off, yeah?

No, no, it's fine.
Who gives a fuck?

Thanks.

Excuse me.

Hey!

Come on, sit.

- Oh, yeah?
- Yeah.

Thanks.

That's cool.

Pot?

No. Thank you so much
for asking me.

Beer and soup, that's my thing.

You're a crazy motherfucker,

Tabarnac! Bam!
You fucking beat him.

- Really?
- Yeah!

Thank you.

Yeah!
Why did you do that?

What do you mean?

Why do you help and protect
these guys?

You don't even know these guys.

Well, Coach puts me out there to fight.

That's my job.

I like standing up for my team,
you know?

Take care of...

"Team"!

You just wait.
Wait one month.

Then you tell me if you feel the same.
I don't think so.

The fucking team!

What are those?

Have you ever jerked off on ecstasy?

I'm sorry?

Bonne nuit.

Come on, boys! Let's go!
Fresh sheet of ice. Breathe it in!

Come on! Breathe in that fresh air.
Come on!

You're men! Men!

So, the penalty winding down

in front of a good crowd

here in this game
between the Laval Kings and...

Here we go, boys!
Here we go!

Come on, Dougie!

Steve-O, go out for Dougie.

I got it! I got it!
Coach, I'm doing it!

- Two on one, man. Two on one!
- Doug, come off!

No, no, Steve-O.
Get back, get back!

Fuck!
He's got his hand up already.

It's gonna be too many men on the ice.

Here come the Kings
with a man advantage.

Delayed penalty.

They score!

Jesus and the donkey
mother-fucked it on!

Get off the ice, Glatt!

Why are you
on the fucking ice, man?

I've heard this song before, folks.

In fact, on my wedding night.

Glatt, go to the end of the bench.

Our bashful bride Glatt
can't wear white any more.

You know why there was
too many men on the ice?

'Cause you stayed on the ice.
Come on, change it up. Let's go.

- Stay there until I tell you to move.
- Idiot.

Unbelievable, Glatt.

Nice work, rookie.
Come on, let's go!

Fuck!

That was the closest we have come

to winning a fucking hockey game
in over a month,

and you just fucked us!

You fucked us!

You're not here to play hockey, Glatt.
You're here to fight.

Hey, pretty boy,
you find that funny?

Funny ha ha?

Like flushing-a-$5 million-contract-
up-your-nose funny?

Or funny peculiar like Doug there?

You get your shit together.

'Cause your shit stinks,
Pepé Le Pew.

It fucking stinks.

After serving
his 20-game suspension,

Ross "The Boss" Rhea was sent down
to Boston's affiliate in the EMHL,

the St. John's Shamrocks...

the same team
where he started his storied career,

a career a lot of people
believe is coming to a close.

This is where I started out.
This is where I'm from.

I suppose this is as good a place
as any for me to end up.

Rhea is a repeat offender,

having sat out 12 games
after his infamous head-shot

on Xavier LaFlamme
three years ago.

The league is sending
a clear message

that it will no longer
tolerate this behavior.

No, yeah, no.
You're breaking up.

No, we're not breaking up.

You're breaking up.
I can't hear...

What? No, I'm here.

What? No, it's still shit.

You still sound like a fucking cyborg.

How? You're in China.

No, I'm sorry. Fuck!

I said we'll talk tomorrow.

Me, too.

Fuck, I need a drink!

Eva? Hey, Eva baby.

Are you on a date with this loser?

Mind if I cut in
with my beautiful dong?

Oh, fuck!
What the fuck?!

You moron!

Here. You can use this
like a towel to dry off.

It's made from the same material
they make snowsuits out of.

Man, I'm wasted.

Eva, I really like your name.

Yes, sir.
It's a great name.

Like the Bible,

just with a bit more,
kind of, mustard on it.

I think it's a pretty name,
like your face.

You got a pretty name
and a pretty face.

Aw, you're very nice to me.

Fuck it.

- Doug“.
- Uh-huh?

I dig hockey players.

This shit... the violence,
the beer, all of it...

I fucking love it.

- Sad.
- Fuck off.

- Want to get out of here?
- Yes, please.

- Let's rally.
- Go on home.

You're so pretty.

You're so beautiful.

I'm sorry. It's... I keep saying that.
I'm sorry.

It's fine.
I think it's cute.

Who doesn't like being told
they're beautiful?

Mm, this is me.

Okay.

I like Eva.

You do, eh?

Yes, ma'am.

Eva likes Doug.

Eva likes you.

What does Eva think about kissing?

- Which type?
- French?

Oh, fuck!

Um, hey, uh...

what do you think about me
calling you sometime?

I don't know
whether that's the best idea.

Shit.

Why don't you give me your number,

and I promise that I'll never call you.

Yeah?

Yeah.

Okay.

Perfect.

I love that!

Bye, Doug.

Bye, Eva.

I'm gonna watch you walk up the stairs
to make sure that you're safe.

Safe.

- Good night.
- Good night.

All right, boys, listen up!
We're still in this thing.

We just need a quick one.

Listen up, cash!

We got to work harder
than them, okay?

Get harder than them, guys.

You know what's hard work?
Going through a divorce.

She's trying to get all my money now.

She can have half of it.
I don't give a shit.

The other half... hard work, mine!

Some guys on their team
are fucking divorced.

Three guys there
whose fucking marriages

are in the fucking toilet.

- We're playing divorced guys.
- Yeah.

We got to be fucking
triceps, biceps, R-ceps hard!

Hard!

Greek fucking
underground gay-porn hard!

You're all Adonises.

Highlanders, gay-porn hard!

Gay-porn hard!

Wheelers win the face-off.

It goes back to Emerson.

Emerson moves up the wing.
Looks across, finds Jones.

Jones now flips it up
the right side.

Stevenson! Here's Mason.
Works it up the boards.

Gets it over to Gill.
He scored!

Where's the pride?

Yeah!

Nobody wants to play?
Nobody wants to play.

LaFlamme.

I'm sorry, Coach.

Okay, Siegfried. Let's go, Roy!
Eye of the fucking tiger!

Ogilvey wins the face-off,

takes it back into his own zone.

Now circling in the neutral zone,
looking for room.

For fuck's sake, kid,
stop staring at me.

- You're really weirding me out, eh?
- I'm sorry, sir.

Here comes LaFlamme,

trying to squeeze by a check.

You fucking diver!

- Come on!
- Come on!

That better be four minutes, ref.

- You're dead meat!
- Fuck off!

Hey, Glatt, you little fucking dickweed!

You try any of that shit you did
against Hamilton on me,

I'll light your fucking ass up.

Hey! I'll light your ass
back up on fire.

It's time to make up for your mistake.
Look at the penalty clock.

And when I say, you get over there,

stand in front of that box,
and wait for that ugly bugger.

Yes, sir.

Do exactly what I say.

Yes, sir, of course.

Exactly what I say. You got it?
Nothing else.

Windsor moves
the puck out of their zone.

Penalty's winding down.
Here's Patrick, intended for Black.

That's broken up by York,
knocked it out of the air.

And now it comes off the backboard.
It's brought right back...

Kimmy, get off! Get off!
Go, go, go, go! Skate!

Go, Glatt. Don't deviate!
Exactly like I said.

- You want a fucking piece of me?
- Hi.

You fucking pussy.
I am gonna fuck you up, Glatt!

Fuck you!

You fucking take it,
you motherfucker!

You... little... bitch!

- What are you doing?
- Come on, Glatt.

Fucking hit him!

Get in there! Get in there!

All right, Dougie!

Okay, Glatt, keep moving.

Keep moving.
Get in the box.

Keep it moving.

But I just miss you.

I really miss you both.

Please don't give up on me.

Oh, fuck me.

Hello?

Eva?
Hey!

This is Doug... Glatt.

Your number is so similar
to my friend's number.

I didn't know which was which,

so I didn't want to call my friend
and then bother you.

I was just checking.

Simply checking the numbers out.

Hey, listen, I'm at the bar
with my team.

I think some of your friends
are gonna come.

I don't know if you want to,
like, you know, join us.

Actually, I've been trying
to cut my drinking down.

Trying to be a good girl.
Trying.

Well, you know, uh,

maybe you and I could
hang out sometime,

you know, get, like, coffee?

Um... sure.

Great.

I don't drink coffee,
but I like Gatorade,

and I like power drinks
and water.

Awesome.

It doesn't even matter
if I'm thirsty or not,

if I could just see you.

That sounds cool.

Okay.

Okay, I'll see you then.

- Bye, Eva.
- Bye.

Yes!

Oh, you pinko
Bolshevik ass-eaters, man!

It is beach ball

because you cannot even
stop a fucking beach ball.

Not nice!

Beach ball is bigger than puck.
That's why joke is.

Yeah, I fucking get it, man.

Left to right, we know that.

Shut up!

So, the score
is tied with 2:52 left.

Steve-O, Steve-O, Steve-O,
come on!

No, no, no, sit down.
Sit down.

Glatt!

- Who do I fight, Coach?
- You're not fighting anybody.

Just park your ass in front of that
goaltender and screen him, okay?

Let's do this.
Don't be a pussy.

Get that big ass right in front of him.
Block the lane.

- Fuck!
- Let's go! Let's go!

Oh, The Thug
is coming in on a power play.

Do you believe in miracles?

Thank you.

Let's go, let's go!

And the puck is dropped.

Glatt will head
straight to the front of the net.

Puck goes back to the point.
Here's Kim with it.

Gets it over. They take another look.
Put out in front.

Glatt is screening.
All the action in front of the net.

Halifax winds it up.
Here's a blast!

Kim scored!

A power-play goal.

Takes the lead 3-2.

I don't think the Moncton goalie
saw any part of that.

There was nothing
but a wall of Glatt.

Come on, boys!
10 seconds left now.

Keep the wolves
out of the barn, man. 8 seconds!

Now Ferris
shoots it up the boards.

It goes there to Lemieux.

Oh, this guy's
going glove, Mommy.

This guy's going glove, Mother.

Lemieux gets in
across the line, takes the shot.

Oh, great save!
Horatio at the bridge!

The game is over!

Halifax has broken the losing streak.

Their first win in a month.

Wow! What a show!

I'm gonna go crack some champagne
and make love to my old lady.

It'll be the first time, the best time,
in a long time.

That was fucking hockey, man!

Oh, thank you.
That's so nice.

Hey! Hi, Eva.

Wow, you look so pretty.

I just have to go
to the washroom a sec.

Yeah. Okay.

Can I get a Gatorade?

Hey. Had to go potty?

Look...

I liked making out with you.
It was fun.

But what happened
between us the other night,

it was a one-off.

I'm sorry.

I mean, Jesus,
all we did was make out.

Uh, anyway, it was a mistake.

You're actually... nice,

and I'm a huge bitch.

Eva! Don't say that.

I'm a very bad girlfriend.

Girlfriend?

Yeah.

I have a boyfriend,
which is awesome.

Fuck!

Jeez.

Well, I guess, uh,
it'd be kind of weird

if I gave you these flowers...

Oh, man!

These chocolates...

...and this stuffed animal.
It's a little doll.

It's not really a stuffed animal.
It's a stuffed Angus.

It's the mascot
of the team I play for...

the Halifax Highlanders.

It's just a little toy...
but it's official.

For fuck's sake!

No! It's hilarious.

It's a simple misunderstanding,
you know?

I'm fine.

Okay. Bye, Eva.

Bye, Doug.

It's official, the mascot.

Fuck.

Fuck me, Angus.

It's not the first time that wind
blew garbage in my face.

One time, my friends built this
bike ramp behind a medical center.

It was really windy that day,
so I started pedaling really fast,

and as I was going up the ramp,

wind blew, like, these bloody rags,
like, right into my face,

and I crashed into the dumpster

and I started, like, rolling around
into, like, the medical waste

'cause I was so disoriented.

I broke my ankle,
like, in three places,

and the worst part was
there was this big bag of pee,

and I rolled over on it,
and it, like, burst all over me.

So, you think it's funny, too?

Yes! Very much so.

Garbage blows in my face sometimes.

Thanks for the ride.
It was good to see you.

Doug...

Right. My boyfriend.

Bye, Eva.

Bye, Doug.

Let's go, boys!

Go get 'em, Dougie!

Douglas Menahem Glatt!

Pret... Pret... Pretzel, bitches!

Hey! What the hell?

Recognize!

Of course I recognize you!

You recognize this big fucking
beautiful family of yours?

Oh, my God, this is amazing!
I'm so happy!

Glatt! What are you fucking doing,
motherfucker?

Start skating.
Shave some ice.

Yeah. Love you guys.

We love you, Dougie!

Hey, he can skate!

What's that on his shirt, eh?

It says your name.
It says your fucking name on the back.

Language!
Do you mind, Pat?

He can't stop.
It's like Tourette's.

I'm sorry.

Hey, want to go?

Yeah, okay.

- Good luck, man.
- Good luck to you, too, bud.

The puck drops,

and, yes, we are gonna have
a dustup.

Oh, kick his fucking ass, Dougie!

Punch for punch,
neither giving an inch!

Both still on their feet.

- Whoa...
- Right, left, right, left!

- Both going at it. Both landing blows.
- Nail him, Doug.

To the head,
to the body, everywhere!

Oh, my... Fuck!

Oh, God.

That's it! That's it!

- Good fight, man.
- Good fight.

He's a nice guy.

Do you hear that?

Just 1:04 left, score is tied.

Everything on the line here

as Halifax looks to extend
their winning streak to four.

I'm open!

Now a three-on-one develops.

Net, Doug! Net!

Kim lets the shot go!
Hits Glatt. He scored!

It was Doug Glatt
in the conservatory with his ass!

And the young gun from Orangetown
they call The Thug has done it.

Holy shit!

And the Highlanders

look like they might just make a run
for the playoffs after all.

You make me happy, man!
With your ass!

- My ass.
- With your ass!

My ass!

Doug, Doug!

Well done, boys!

Tonight...
good food, good women, good rest.

Not necessarily in that order.

Glatt! LaFlamme!

Get changed. In my office.

Good job, boys.
See you tomorrow morning.

Way to go, Dougie!

This boy popped a cherry tonight.

Popped my cherry.
What does that mean?

Boys.

Coach.

Well, one of you
has really been impressing me

with your play lately,
and one of you hasn't.

Either one of you want to venture
to guess as to who's who?

Okay, well, LaFlamme,
I'm ripping that "A" off your jersey.

You don't deserve it,
unless "A" stands for asshole,

which is the way you've been playing.

Glatt, you're promoted.

Assistant captain. Good on you.
Keep up the good work.

There's the game puck.
I'm proud of you.

Thanks, Coach.

Xavier, you can take this the right way
or the wrong way, son.

Lady's choice.

Xavier.

Go get him.

Hey, bud, wait up.

Oh, my God, you scored!

Your fucking ass scored!

You son of a bitch!
Look at you!

You're gonna
love this restaurant.

I know how you like
Middle-Eastern food.

And Uncle Stevie,
he's a good friend.

He's very robust.

Holy fucking shit-ass!
Dougie, you fucking scored!

You just fisted that motherfucker
right in the ass.

Fuck! I'm so sorry.
I'm so fucking sorry, sir, ma'am.

- There he is! There's the guy!
- Hey!

Dougie, my friend.
Good to see you as always, hey.

That's my top customer right there.
Five times a week I see you, right?

A pair of falafels this boy has on him.

I watched this guy fight three guys,
knock out all their teeth.

Three guys! Four teeth!

One game!
It was unbelievable.

I'm so excited.
Fuck it!

Everybody, donair
on the house tonight, huh?

For you, anything, buddy.

Pardon me.
Donair sauce on the house, everybody.

Don't get excited.
Donair sauce.

Aah! Thank you.

Hey!

That guy, he's awesome.

Water down the donair sauce.

So, Doug, think we can get
anything for this on eBay?

I don't think so.

No, I wanted to give this
to Mom and Dad, actually,

if they wanted to see just...

Here.

Douglas, it's good to see
that you're having fun with this,

you know, hobby.

It's not a hobby.

It's my job, Mom.
Um, I'm a hockey player.

Have you given any thought at all
to the head injuries

that come with playing
such a violent sport?

The concussions?

How long do you think
you can do this?

Mom...

It's an infantile way for a man
to spend his adult years.

No, it isn't.

You can do anything.

You can do anything
except punch people, okay?

- No, I couldn't.
- You can teach.

No, I can't! Okay?

I can't because I'm stupid.
I'm stupid!

Doug, you're not that stupid.

I am.

I'm stupid. You're gay.

I'm stupid. He's gay.

Stupid. Gay.

- We get it.
- Stupid. Gay!

You have one stupid son,
and you got a gay son.

Oh, God.

For once in my life,
I'm actually a part of something.

I get to wear a uniform
that doesn't have "Security" on it.

Kids buy it, and they wear it,
and it's got our name on it.

Now, for whatever reason,

you guys think that I can be
smart enough to be a doctor.

I have fist smarts.
Now, I can fight.

I'm strong.
I can protect people.

That's who I am.
This is what I do.

And you should be proud of me.

We should be proud of you?

They call you Thug,
for Christ's sake!

It might as well say "Security"
on the back of your sweater.

Excuse me.

- Doug, I am proud of you.
- Thanks, buddy.

Okay? But I'm gonna go
with Mom and Dad, okay?

They got my passport.

Look, no disrespect
intended, but, honestly,

fuck your parents if they don't
fucking appreciate you, man.

Like, look at you.
You're a fucking beast.

You're like the fucking
Hebrew Dolph Lundgren

or some shit.

You don't get what I'm saying, do you?

Doug, watching you tonight

was like watching a bunch
of fucking birds flying in a.

It was instinct...

and purpose.

It was like you were doing
what you were born to do.

I mean, Jesus Christ, Doug,
look at your fucking fist.

It's like the size
of my Uncle Murphy's prostate.

I really feel like
getting hammered right now.

Let's get so fucking drunk

we see each other's
donair sauce on the floor.

You don't know shit
about hockey, you bulimic Don Cherry!

You fucking spit in my face!

Fuck your Ed Hardy shirt!

- What the hell? Hey, hey!
- He fucking started it!

Oh, come on!
You're spitting everywhere!

Your friend is fucking sick!

Oh, yeah,
says the fucking Frenchman!

Your people live like animals!

I hate spit! I hate it!

FUCK you!

What's your problem?

I'll tell you my problem.

How many minutes
did you play tonight, huh?

I don't know. 11. So?

You skate like shit,

but you play 11 fucking minutes.

Who the fuck are you?!

I'm a fucking hockey player.

You steal my
You steal my power play.

You're a fucking goon!
A thug!

You're fucking nothing!

You are not a hockey player.

The only reason

why I'm not knocking
your teeth out right now

is 'cause you're on my team.

Do you have any idea
what would happen

if I stopped watching your back?

Yeah.
It'd be like before you came.

I like that better.

We have not pissed together

since last time we double-teamed
Belchior's mother, huh?

Oh, and we pissed on her, too.

You pissed on my leg!

All right, lads!
All right.

We're in the shit now.

This is Quebec.

Get your fucking game faces on.

This is about to get ugly.

We got four games left, boys.
We only need two of 'em.

Shove your têtes carrées
up their derrières

and rip their fucking hearts out!

Let's go get 'em, boys!

You're with me tonight, Mommy.

You are with me tonight.

You feel the fucking energy
in this building?

I want you to take that fucking energy
out onto the ice.

Dougie, you're gonna shadow
LaFlamme the entire game.

You, Gord, LaFlamme,
you're starting.

Boys, we're in this fucking thing.

Now let's play
like we're supposed to be here!

- Let's go!
- All right!

Dougie, on LaFlamme!
Stick to him! Stick to him!

We're rooting for you, Gordon!

We're all in this together.

When that puck drops, we all drop.

Shut the fuck up!

Here we go!
The fries have been frenched.

The cheese has been curded.
Let's pour some gravy on me...

Let's drop the fucking puck!

...and dig in.

Halifax gets the face-off.
Back to LaFlamme.

He comes up ice
with a full head of steam.

Simard lines up LaFlamme.
LaFlamme avoids the check!

Simard flies into the boards.

Here's LaFlamme
moving up the right side.

Cuts toward the net.

LaFlamme takes it to him!
He scored!

LaFlamme a tremendous move.

All right!

The defenseman
totally lost control...

FUCK you!

Nice job, bro!

Here's LaFlamme, picks up the
puck behind the net.

He starts away.
He spins away from one check.

- Now gets up to center ice.
- Gord!

Takes a look.
Feeds the pass over.

Back, back, back,
back, back, back!

He gets it back again.
Swings by another check.

Walks in.

Man on, man on!

Hey! What the fuck? Dougie!

And Glatt
was looking the other way.

Get him off!

That's it, Dougie!
Leave him!

They're calling
for the stretcher.

This is getting scary, folks.

Jesus Christ.

Easy, boys.

Xavier, look at me.

Okay, he's got a concussion.

He may not be back at all.

And for what you did to Simard,
you've been suspended.

We're lucky it's only one game.

You know what, Glatt?
This team counts on you.

Whatever it is
that is making you fucking ovulate,

you'd better figure it out quick
and get your fucking shit together!

And for those of you who think
you've got no practice tomorrow...

6:00 a.m., bag skate, pussies!

I want to see every single one of you

work your fucking asses off
until you're puking guts out!

This is not fucking baseball!

Do you want
to make the playoffs or not?

God damn it. And Glatt!

I see you.

You're riding piss hole.

Back of the bus.

Roll it out, George.

I can't really talk now.
That's why I was texting you.

I'm sorry.
I'm such a moron.

So, you saw my headbutt, huh?

Yeah. You fucked him up.

Are you at the library?

No, um...

my boyfriend got home
a few days ago.

Why did you text me, then?

I dig talking to you,

and now I'm thinking about you,

and sometimes I sleep
with that Angus-the-Highlander doll.

There's nothing weird about that.
It's official.

Yeah, Doug. I know.

Fuck.

I'm a bad girlfriend, Doug.

Well, I mean,
all we did was make out.

I'm a slut, Doug.

I'm horny a lot.

I sleep around.

Oh, okay.

That doesn't bother you?

The truth is, I just...

I have a really huge crush on you.

I got to go, Doug.

Hello, sir.
My name is Doug Glatt.

Ross Rhea.
Nice to meet you, kid.

- Nice to meet you, too.
- Sit down.

Thanks.

So, you're the new me, eh?

I don't know about that.
I don't think so.

Everyone else seems to.

It's good.

Good for you, kid.

Thank you.

What are you doing
wandering around St. John's

at 3:00 in the morning?

Aren't you guys playing us tonight?

Well, yeah, but not me.
I got suspended a game.

Too bad.

I ain't much for waiting around.

You're a tough little bastard out there.

You can fucking bang.

Thank you.
Thanks so much.

So, I'm gonna impart some
of the wisdom of my years on you.

I could really use some of that.

Everybody loves the soldiers until
they come home and stop fighting.

You understand what I'm saying?

I don't know. No.

Kid, you got this thing, the stuff,
the shit, the fucking grit.

You got it, like me.

But like me,
that's all you fucking got.

And like me, you're no good
to anyone doing anything else.

All I'm saying is don't go trying to be
a hockey player.

You'll get your fucking heart
ripped out.

But I am a hockey player, sir.

You're a fucking goon.

That plays hockey, like you.

I don't play much hockey.

You're a hockey player, sir.

You know they just want you to bleed,
right?

Well, I'm here to do
whatever they need me to do.

You know, if they need me to bleed,
then I'll bleed for my team.

Yeah.

I suppose you heard
I'm gonna retire the end of the season.

I've been at this since I was 17,

but I'll be damned if I'm gonna go out

like some Nancy-boy,
middle-aged fuck.

You understand?

Yeah, I understand.

You have my respect.

Whatever that means to you,
you got it.

But know this shit hard.

If ever there comes a time
when it gets down to the marrow

and it's you and me...

kid...

I will lay you the fuck out.

Come here,
you piece of fucking shit!

Get the fuck over here!

Everyone knows what I'm here for.

To kick fucking ass!

That's right. I fight.

I fight for my team.

They need me to bleed,
then I bleed.

I started my career here in St. John's.

I think it's only fitting that I...
I'm winding it up here.

That being said,
I still got some fight in me left.

What do you say, boys?
Let's go to the playoffs.

Give the old man
one last shot at a ring.

How about it, eh?
God bless Newfoundland!

It's a rough,
physical game tonight, folks.

Both teams jockeying for the eighth and
final playoff spot in the East.

I'm open!

Stevenson calling for the puck.

He's absolutely leveled by Rhea!

Where's the call?

Shamrocks take the puck in.

They shoot! He scored!

St. John's has taken an early lead.

Rhea absolutely running over
the poor Highlanders.

It's anarchy on the ice.

Cheap shot, Rhea.
No need.

Take it.

I'm gonna fight you, man.

Oh, come on, Gord.

You know how this ends.

No shit.

All right, come on.

Are you sure?

Come on, Gord.

Shit!

I can do this all night, boys.

Gord Ogilvey
getting into only the third fight

of his entire career.

Yeah, if I want any lip from you,
I'll rattle my zipper.

"A" for effort, captain.

And "D" for Doug Glatt.

Are you there, Doug?
It's me, Margaret!

Xavier, are you up?

I'm an idiot.

From now on,
no matter what happens,

if you want to punch me in the face
or spit in my mouth while I'm asleep,

it doesn't matter.

I'm always gonna be
watching your back.

I think that we both have
a light in our stomachs.

A special light, like E.T.

And the team needs somebody
to light the way.

My stomach light
needs your stomach light.

We can all phone home together.

Two home games left
in the season, both must-wins.

If they don't, they're gonna wind up
on the golf course early,

and that doesn't sound
quite so bad to me.

18 holes and a Reuben.

Here come the Highlanders!

Glatt, what the fuck?
Hockey!

Head up, head up, head up, head up! Go,
go, go, go!

Glatt! What are you doing?

The Highlanders
start out of their own zone.

Here's the pass over to LaFlamme.
LaFlamme taking it along the boards.

He's run into by Finnerty,
and now Glatt comes in.

Hey, man.

Nice fight.

Puck! Puck!

Now the puck
back in the Highlanders' zone,

and the Highlanders bring it away.

Here's LaFlamme.
He moves it over to Glatt.

Glatt, he duffs the shot,
gets it back to LaFlamme.

LaFlamme walks... He scores!

LaFlamme scores the goal
with an assist going to Glatt.

Whoo-hoo!

Nice one, Dougie!

LaFlamme!

- Nice assist, man.
- Thanks.

69! Doug!

69! Yeah!

Well, it has come down to this, folks.

The Highlanders need this win
to keep their playoff hopes alive.

LaFlamme serving
a high-sticking major

with his team nursing
a tenuous one-goal lead.

Can they hang on?

I love you, Mom.

Dougie, hey,
keep that fucking crease clean!

Clear them out!
Front of the crease the whole time.

Let's get fucking real, boys.

Let's get fucking real!

Now the puck
goes back to the point.

Concord pulling the goaltender.
Going with six attackers.

Hold the box, boys!
Clear the crease, Dougie!

Let's go, man!
Let's go, fuck-face! Boom!

Come on, Dougie!
Come on, Dougie!

Seconds tick down.
There's about 27 left now.

Come on now! Let's go!

Clear it out! Clear it out!
Give me the puck!

Clear the fucking crease!

Where's the puck, man?
I can't see the shot.

Shot right, shot right!

I'm down! I'm down!

Three... two...

...one!

No goal! No goal! No goal!

Banzai, you motherfucker!

Dougie? Doug?

Eat it, puss-puss!

Fight like a fucking man!

Come on!

Yeah, you've done it before,
you pussy!

And I know you fuck your players.
Don't deny it.

Did we win?

Get him out of there, please.

You stopped it, man.
You fucking did it!

Oh, fuck.

Hi, Eva.

Hi.

It didn't hurt at all.

Dougie. Hey, Dougie.
You're all right. You did it.

You did it.
We won it, Dougie.

Big win here tonight
for Halifax,

but they'll still need one more
if they're to advance to the playoffs.

They meet the St. John's Shamrocks
for the eighth and final playoff spot.

And if the hockey gods truly exist

and aren't just a figment
of my aging imagination,

we'll finally get to see
that long-awaited battle

between Ross Rhea and Doug Glatt.

Okay.

- Gather 'round here, Highlanders!
- Come on, boys.

Belchie!
Fucking horse cock, get over here.

Listen, boys,
it was a solid fucking effort tonight.

I fucking loved it.

And Dougie took one in the face!

I'm high on painkillers.

Pass the dutchie, man.

I will.
I got some for you.

I'm so fucking proud!

You are un-fucking-real.

The stuff that you're...

that is, is fucking great!

- Thank you.
- You're our knight!

You're fucking all right, eh?

Thanks, Coach.

Eva!

Hey, hey.

No. Hey, what happened?

Did you just watch "Rudy"?

No. I did it.
I broke up with him.

Holy shit!

I don't even know what the fuck I'm...

Hey, come on.

From what I saw from him,
he seemed like a really nice guy.

I'm just not in...

love with him.

- You're not?
- No!

You.

You make me want to stop sleeping
with a bunch of guys.

That's the nicest thing
anybody's ever said to me.

I'm so sorry.
It's my fault.

She's a wonderful girl.

Hit me again.

Hi, there. I'm Eva.

This is, uh... Dakota?

Yeah, whatever.

Doug! Where were you?

Oh, my God!

Tabarnac!
What the fuck happened to you, man?

Hey. Oh, what? This?
No, it's nothing.

What the fuck happened, Doug?

When you deserve a beating,
you take it.

Oh, Jesus, Doug!

St. John's and Halifax.
This will mark the first occasion

that Ross "The Boss" Rhea
and Xavier LaFlamme

will share the same ice

since that brutal hit
three years ago in Montreal.

LaFlamme was
severely concussed...

Fuck.

...never quite found
his legs again...

I made a dive.

Talk about putting out "la flamme".

Look at you!
Did you fall off a toilet-paper roll?

Do you pee rainbows?
You fart cinnamon?

- Don't ruin this for Doug, Pat.
- Rainbows come out of your nipples?

Well, we're not here
'cause I'm a good fucking captain,

because I'm not.

I've fucked up
a lot of things in my life.

I mean, I lost my woman,
and I don't see my kid enough.

And I guess what I'm trying to say

is I feel I've gained a family
with you boys.

You skated, you fought,
and you fucking bled,

and you have earned
every piece of this.

You got that shit
that makes you keep going

long after you got no reason to.

That Doug shit.

He's got it, though.
He's got the stuff.

No matter what happens out there...

...they will know...

...the Highlanders were here!

Highlanders!

Let's go! Let's go, boys!
Let's go, Dougie!

All right!

Come on, Highlanders!

Dougie!

Hey, Louis!

Fuck you!

Je ne parle pas Français.

Fuck him, man.

So, the Halifax Highlanders

and the St. John's Shamrocks.

It's all on the line here,
the eighth and final playoff spot.

And this should be
a dandy confrontation.

No glory holes
here tonight, man!

Rhea runs into
a couple of Halifax players.

Here's a shot on goal.
The save is made by Belchior.

Hey, hey!

Come here, you piece of shit!

He's a one-man wrecking crew.

Come on, Coach.
Too many men on the ice.

Get the fuck out of here!

Ross Rhea,
you're a cheap motherfucker!

You cheap bastard!

Rhea steals the puck.

He puts it out in front.
He scores!

- Fuck you, Rhea!
- Ha!

Hey! Come on!

I'm gonna score a goal
just for you right now.

Here's LaFlamme.
Steps out on the ice.

- Here! Here!
- He calls for the puck.

He takes the pass.
Here comes LaFlamme.

He's straight up the middle,
in across the left.

Goes right through the defense.
In on goal.

Shot!

Shit!

Let's go!

God fucking damn it!

And the fans
are totally frustrated.

- Their Halifax team can't buy a goal.
- Come on, Halifax!

Great save, Belchior!

Let's go!

We just saw Rhea
come off the ice.

Come on!
Let's go, Glatt.

Let's go, boys! Stick with him.
Stick with him.

Rhea manages to step out on
the ice at the same time.

This could get scary.

Rhea and Glatt,
are they gonna have a go?

Come on!

Come on!

Here we go! Here we go!
Here we go!

Rhea skates away!
No! He suckered him.

What the shit is that?!

He forced him
to take a penalty.

- Fucker!
- Fuck you!

Come on, ref!
You can't call that!

He was fucking instigating!

You got to keep your boy
out of the box, Ronnie.

Shorthanded situation,
a great opportunity.

Clear it out now!
Clear it out!

Hey!

- He scores!
- Shit!

Fuck a duck!
Pig fucker!

Here we go now, boys. Real hockey!
Let's go now. Get it back!

Off the draw,
here's LaFlamme out on the ice now.

Rhea out as well.

Let's go. Let's go!
Change it up!

And now LaFlamme actually
takes a run at big Rhea.

Eat that shit, Matlock!

- You want something, Frenchie?
- Come on.

Come here.
You want some?

Remember what happened
last time, huh?

Let's go.

Now Glatt steps in.

That was a dirty shot, Doug.

Come on, boys, let's play.
Come on, come on!

Get 'em off! Get 'em off now!
Come on!

Three in white,
two minutes for crosschecking.

69 in blue, two minutes,
crosschecking.

Early in the third.

Glatt and Rhea
both in the penalty box.

It opens up a little room.

The puck is now down
in the Halifax zone.

Go, Highlanders!

Come on, Highlanders!

Looks like these fans
are out for blood tonight.

Kid, you ready?

Yes. Thank you for asking.

Ladies and gentlemen,
this is actually fucking happening.

Dougie "The Thug" Glatt
is about to fucking drop the gloves

and take on
Ross "The Boss" Rhea.

This has all the elements
of a fucking sports masterpiece.

Holy fuck!
We got the worried ladyfriend face

frozen with concern.

We got the gay brother.
Yup!

And the lovable, wisecracking,
Mick-best-friend,

Orangetown-son,
pussy-crew, album-dropping...

Oh, fuck! Here we go.

Here we go!
Oh, my God!

Come on!

Come on, Dougie!
Take his fucking head off!

Kick his ass, Dougie!
Come on!

That's it! That's it!

Come on!

- Shit!
- Aw, Jesus!

Don't you fucking dare.

Come on, Doug!

He's okay.
He's always had bad fucking ankles.

- You got him.
- Come on, Dougie.

Get him. Come on, man.

Come on, hit him!

Fuck!

Ah! You feel that shit, Rhea?

- Nice hit, Doug!
- Take that shit!

You show him
where the fuck you're from!

Oh, fuck.

You're a fucking warrior, Doug!

Come on, Doug!

He's not done yet.

Shit.

Doug!
Oh, my God! Doug!

Attaboy, Dougie!
Come on, kiddo!

You fucking did it, kid.

You did it.

Doug!

You did it.

He scores!

It's 2-1 with 15:25 left in the third.

Here's LaFlamme,
steals the puck at his blue line.

- He's breaking away!
- Attaboy!

In across the line.
He fakes, backhand, he scores!

Xavier!

LaFlamme has taken it
on his shoulders!

He's tied this thing 2-2 with 5:23 left.

Here comes...
Shifty LaFlamme once again.

Dipsy-doodles,
leaves bodies in his wake.

- He scores!
- Yeah!

3-2! 1:21 left.

What a performance by LaFlamme!

Three straight goals!

- LaFlamme!
- LaFlamme!

1:21 from the playoffs
in Halifax.

I think I nailed him.

- Let's go, Doug!
- Come on, Dougie!

Come on, Doug!

We got a fight going on.
It's our new boy, Doug Smith.

Oh, is he working him over!

He dropped Miciak like nothing!

Oh, he'll soon become
a favorite of Johnstown fans.

I can't see.

Isn't that unbelievable?

Get some clapping going.
What the fuck?

- Come on, Doug! Yeah!
- There you go!

A few shots in.
Smith trying with the uppercut.

There goes Smitty!

Doug "The Hammer" Smith
of the Packers.

Right over right
over right over right,

as they've connected
with about 30 punches total.

Oh! There's Smith and Daviault.
What a scrap we're gonna have here.

Two big heavyweights,
both with some good balance.

Ohh! Feces!

That's gross, y'all.

Yeah, don't touch that feces.

- Sing it, pal.
- What?