Beaver Falls (2011–…): Season 1, Episode 3 - Episode #1.3 - full transcript

If I tried to get off with you?

I'd stub this out in your eye.

Thought so.

Didn't realise you had a date,
Barry.

You bring an old lady,
I'll bring an AIDS orphan.

You actually disgust me!

I'm dying.

You're not alone. Whatever you think.

Shit.

Barry!

I'm actually fine.



What? Wake up.

Oh, what?

Bunk inspection.

Shit.

Kids, come on.

Brandon, out of bed. Come on!

Quick, quick, quick. Hurry up.

One second, Bobby.

Morning, boys.

Morning, Bobby.

Let's see those big smiles,

those happy faces
ready to greet your moms and dads.

Together we can make this

the greatest Parents' Day
in Beaver Falls' history.



It's the wack pack.
The p-rents be buggin'.

What my, er... friend here
is trying to say

is that today's irrelevant
for us.

None of our parents
shall be attending.

Speak for yourself, Lame-o,
my dad's coming.

And he's the only one.

Dude, we're fat, we're here,
out of sight and out of mind.

Well, even if your...
your parents can't make it,

perhaps today is a chance
to phone Mom and Dad.

Let 'em know how happy you are.

Tell 'em about our extensive
sponsorship and donation schemes.

I am not an idiot, Spencer.

I know what happened here last night
and I will deal with you later.

But right now,
this place is a disgrace.

So, get it and those kids
bright and shiny, capisce?

Enjoy Parents' Day, boys.

Ooh! Ah.

You look so peaceful
when you sleep.

Morning.

Last night was really special.

Hey, did you enjoy your little
fat-boy party last night?

Er... it was all right...

Ha-ha.

..thanks, yeah.

How's your hangover?
Mine is reeking.

You should come along next time,
Jakey boy. More the merrier.

OK, what happened to
"I'm tired, I'm going to bed"?

Babe, if you wanted a brewski, me
and the guys were watching the game.

Which you do every night.

OK, let's say I invited you.
What would you have said?

I would have said... "Let's go."

Sure. Look, we both know you hate
those guys, especially Barry.

Come on, he's part
of the Chunk Bunk.

It's a grand Beaver Falls tradition
for us to fuck with them.

Well, maybe this is one summer
where we can let tradition go.

He's a friend of mine.

So, for me?

All right.

Getting buff. Show my dad
how lean and mean I am.

That I've been working out,
made the team.

Only the ineffectual
define themselves by their parents.

Thankfully, I'm not like the rest of
you. I'm glad mine aren't coming.

That's the attitude I like to hear.

We're having a great day with or
without your folks. Give me five.

Morning.

What time do you call this,
young man?

We've been up sick with worry.

We've phoned round all the
hospitals, police stations.

Ha-ha.

Do you see what I'm seeing?

He's changed.
Our boy has become a man.

Your first ever one-night stand.

Whatever.

Oi!

Don't really remember anything,
but it was "really special".

I'll tell you what was special.

How you two managed to suck face for
so long without coming up for air.

Man! How you even get a girl like
that to suck your sorry face?
She is hot.

Rachael is much prettier.

Well, either is better than
cyber-stalking your ex.

I do not cyber-stalk her.

It's the occasional email.
How do you know about that, anyway?

Mate, your password's "Saima".
Took a millisecond to work it out.

Wait. Everyone's
been reading my emails?

"I know it's over but I just want
to know why. For me. For closure."

No, absolutely not.

Anyway, I haven't
emailed her for ages.

Well, a week.

Looks like you're finally moving on.

I promised myself I wouldn't cry.

Big night?

Just a few beers with the boys.
Nothing special.

I believe this is yours,
Spencer. You Brits may be try-hards,

but you sure know
how to throw a party.

And that A-Rab, crazy.

You should have come.
It was a blast.

Well, maybe if I'd known about it.

Oops.

A-Rab? Crazy?

I think the word for it's drunk.

Great idea, throwing a big party
the night before Parents' Day.

And it is comments like that

which stop me from being invited
to these things, isn't it?

It wasn't a snub.

We didn't plan on having a party.
It just kind of happened.

It might surprise you,
but where I'm from,

I'm considered
to be a pretty fun person.

Small town, yeah?

Shut up.

I guess I'm just sort of missing home today.

I'm not.

You're saying
you didn't wake up this morning

wishing your mom
was bringing you coffee

to soothe that crippling hangover
you're pretending not to have?

She'd have to find me first.

What do you mean?

Flynn, your parents know
you're here in America, right?

Shit, I knew there was something
I was meant to do before I left.

They must be so worried
not knowing where you are.

Isn't that... I don't know,
a bit selfish?

I'm allowed to be selfish.
One of the perks of dying young.

Look, I appreciate the concern.
I do.

You don't need to do this
Good Samaritan routine, OK?

I get that you're trying to pretend
like this isn't happening...

You were right earlier.

It is comments like that which stop
you getting invited to parties.

Attention! Parents incoming!

I repeat, parents incoming!

All hands on deck!

You make the team this year?

You bet, Dad. Quarterback.

Yeah?

Huh! Ha-ha-ha!

Ha-ha-ha.

This is what I mean.

We get to laze about all day
while those suckers...

Get presents and shit
from their parents.

Oh, dear God.
Would you look at these imbeciles?

Falling over themselves to make
Mummy and Daddy happy. Ridiculous.

It's all a meaningless
biological chance.

One unlucky sperm.

Oh, no.

Isn't that golfer guy?

Rick Traviata.

Didn't that cracker win the Masters
a few years back?

Twice, and the US Open three times.

He's the reason
Barry failed half his A-levels.

And to lose his virginity.

Rick Traviata's Extreme Golf.

One of the greatest video games
of all time.

If you can get a hole in one
on the final Kahula Beach level,

I will personally drop to my knees
and blow you.

Metaphorically.

Why is he waving at us?

Not you. Me.

Bloody hell! Rick Traviata
is your dad! The Rick Traviata?

Aren't you gonna go and say hi to
him?

Let the monkey do his dance first.

Smile.

This is so exciting for us.

Our, er... very own surprise guest,
a Beaver Falls VIP.

In fact, it'd be wonderful
if you could say a few words

at our... closing ceremony.

Er... sure.

Yeah, it's just a modest event.

You know, some parents like to,
er...

well, make small donations.
That sort of thing.

I'm just here to see my son.

I haven't seen him
since he was this big.

Er... where's your lovely wife today?

Er... she won't be joining us.

Ah. Got a free pass from
the old lady, eh? Say no more.

What happens at Beaver Falls
stays at Beaver Falls.

We've decided
to spend some time apart

so we can try and work things out.

It's a very painful
and difficult time for both of us.

Of course, there's no better way
to soothe the heart

than spending time
with your children.

Shall we?

And here he is.

Ha-ha-hey! Rick!

Bet you're surprised to see me.

Life is the farce
in which everyone has to perform.

Arthur Rimbaud?

He said that, huh?
Well, that's something.

He was a French poet and he's dead.

Well, I didn't do it.
I have an alibi.

Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!

Go on, go on. Say hi to him.

I can't, I can't.

So, aren't you going
to do the introductions?

Flynn Spencer.
I look after Rick Jnr's bunk.

Ah, from Scotland, huh?
The home of our beautiful game.

They may take our clubhouse,
but they'll never take our freedom!

Well, I'm a big fan. We all are.

Thanks, guys. Means a lot.

So, Junior, you gonna take me on
a tour of this crazy camp of yours?

Nature calls.

Why don't I take you on that tour?

I'll wait for my son, thank you.

This is a disaster!
The man can't stand me! 0

He's only just arrived. Calm down.

Remember your breathing exercises.

Fuck my exercises!
We need him, Pam! We're in trouble

and he's the only serious wallet
that's turned up!

Maybe if you weren't slobbering...

I'm not the problem! It's you!
He can tell you're faking it!

Seeing as we shared a bed
for 20 years,

I don't think you're in any position
to know when someone is faking it.

Fine. What exactly is it
that you want me to do?

We're meant to be a family camp.
We gotta sell this thing!

So, look me in the eye,
take my hand and tell me you love me!

I love you, Bobby.

You mean the world to me.

Pam...

We have parents waiting.

Mate, what do you do
after a one-night stand?

I mean, do you just pretend it
never happened? Do you thank them?

Erm... Look, it's a bit like
being a chat-show host.

Even if your guest is terrible
and you really don't want to speak

to them, you've got to keep smiling
and pretend that maybe one day

you might want to invite them back
on the show. Then get them the hell
off so your next guest can come on.

All right, kids?!

Heh-hey!

What the fuck are you wearing?

Craziest thing happened.
Jake comes up to me,

says, "Hey, Barry,
we should hang out."

I didn't realise Jake was Australian.

Next thing I know,

he's getting me all dressed up
to play in the game, on his team,

which means I get to be in
a softball game with Rick Traviata.

It's fucking great.

It's like... like destiny or...

Or Jake setting you up.

You don't think the reason
he's getting you to play

is to... you know -
hm-hm, hm-hm - humiliate you?

Yeah. Obviously.

But it's softball.

It's cricket for girls.
How hard can it be?

Fuck off.

Ha-ha. Seriously. Fuck off.

But, ladies and gentlemen,
I'd like to call up golf legend,

Mr Rick Traviata,

to perform
the ceremonial first pitch!

What a guy! Let the games begin!

Good pitch, Rick.

Hey, you!

Hey, um... you.

Er... thanks for... coming along.

Got plans for later?

Oh, um... well, most of my kids'
parents haven't shown up,

so we're throwing a little
Chunk Bunk barbecue for them.

Sounds great. I'll bring a salad.

Cute, aren't they?
God, get a room, you two!

Ha-ha.

Heads up!

Hey, heads up in the bleachers!

OK, bat her up.

Arriba, arriba, arriba, arriba!

What about this guy? Is he any good?

He's the missing link between ape
and man. What do you think?

I think it's good seeing you again.
I missed you, shortstop.

Yes, the volumes of letters
and phone calls were... overwhelming.

The kid's a natural!
Give him his own video game!

Barry! Barry! Barry!

Barry! Barry! Barry!

Strike one!

Hey! There's two more balls.

Yeah, for you.

Ha! English!

I hit it! I hit the ball!
I hit the ball!

Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!

You do know you're supposed to run?

Go on, Barry!

Go, Barry.

My boy's next! Yeah, come on.

I don't want to do it.

Don't worry. I'll be pitching
to you, kiddo.

OK, kid, now hit it out
of the park.

See what you can do.
Hit us a home run.

Strike one!

He's not even moved!

Strike two.

Just swing the damn bat, OK?

He's out.

Nice pitching, Rick.

Don't touch me.

OK, people, who's up next?
We got to keep it going.
You got to be in it to win it!

Look, I'm not totally blind
to the fact that some people
find you... charming.

Look, today is not going as planned.

Rick Jnr and his dad
just aren't clicking.

Yeah, he hates him.

Which is why I need you to sprinkle
a little bit of that charm on.

Get 'em happy. Smiling.

Hugging.

At the end of the day, I want to see
Mr Traviata up on that stage

handing over a cheque to our camp.

A cheque?

Yeah, just... yeah,
just giving a speech.

Words of wisdom
for our young charges.

But do you not think you're better
off dealing with this yourself?

Well, if you... you get
two alpha males, like...

me and Traviata in the same space,

there's friction.
It's a law of nature.

Right.

Just talk to his kid. Sort him out.

You do that for me
and I'll forget about the
little party you had last night.

I was gonna bust your balls so hard.

Maybe next time, huh?

My sources tell me that you've never
hit a home run at Beaver Falls.

You just got lucky.
If you want to stay lucky,
you should shut the fuck up.

Must really annoy you, though.

Coming here for years and years
and never coming close to my triumph.

Is this close enough?

I'm. Not, Scared. Of...

Jake, what are you doing?

OK. Let's take 'em out
and measure 'em.

I'm serious. Unzip, slap 'em down
and we'll see who's got the biggest.

It started off
as kind of flattering,

but it got boring quick
and now it's just pathetic.

I know, totally.

I'm talking about both of you.

We have a whole camp
full of whining kids.

Do we really need two more?

I don't suppose you could ease up
a little? Give your dad a break?

You were the one who said
we didn't need them.

I said if they weren't here
not to stress about it.

Come on, he's trying.

Yes, very trying.

Hi, Rick. How are you?

Listen. I was wondering.

Oh, God, this is gonna
sound so geeky.

Could you get your dad's autograph
for my folks? They're big fans.

He'd love to. You know what?

Lunch is in an hour or so, so, er...

join Rick and his dad for it.

Really? That'll be cool.

Well, it's a date, then.

Great. I'll see you then.

Why on earth did you do that?

Oh, for God's sakes,
it happens all the time.

People find out who my father is and
suddenly they want to be nice to me.

Rick. I'm telling you this
as a friend.

You're fat, you're pompous.
You need all the help you can get.

Well, she's shallow, wilfully
ignorant of my intellectual prowess,

and has shown no interest
in me before.

I've seen you looking at her.
What's it you like?

Her IQ? Her brains? The fact
she subscribes to The New Yorker?

Does she?

No, idiot.

She's shallow and giggly,
and you're a hypocrite.

She likes that your dad's famous
and you like her

because she's a bona fide hottie.
It's the same.

Now's your chance to show off,
win her over with that
intellectual prowess.

Your dad's the most powerful weapon
in your arsenal.

You should be glad he's here.
So, relax.

Trust me. It's gonna be good.

Just to let you know,
lunch is ready, Mr Traviata.

Great.

An hour sitting next to a kid who
has no interest in me whatsoever.

It's probably the reason
my form is slipping.

I should be at the range
working on my swing.

Instead, I drive for hours
so my son can publicly humiliate me.

I don't think
he was trying to humiliate you.

It might even be that he thought
it was the other way round.

You're saying it was my fault?

No, I... I was just suggesting...

Well, pardon my fucking French.
You're not saying it was,

you're just suggesting it was.

I apologise.

It's just he's got a date, for lunch.
Probably his first date ever.

What is she,
some sort of bookish nerdling?

The sort of girl who'll grow up
to be an angry lesbian,

spouting angry, shitty, lesbian
poetry to other angry lesbians?

She's a cheerleader.

No way.

Like I said, this is all new to him.

It might be good
to have his dad by his side.

Bit of advice? Some support?

So, what, is she like
some angry, lesbian cheerleader?

Barry! Stop it.

You know, I could have taken Jake
if Kimberley hadn't interrupted us.

I was this close.

Yeah, well,
don't take it out on the burgers.

Yeah, I know she's annoyed
with him too,

but I bet he still gets
a blow job before bed.

I'm going for a smoke.

No, we're gonna have
a proper meal together as a bunk.

You're meant to grill them,
not torture them.

Yeah, I knew I was doing something
wrong.

So, I heard you had a good time
last night at the party.

With Louisa.

Er... yeah, yeah.
It was... it was fun.

Well, she is a fun girl.

The sort of girl you have a beer
with, take to a party.

Yeah.

Unlike me. Ha-ha.

Well, no, no, no.
That's not what I meant.

A-Rab, it's OK. So you said
you're not ready for a relationship.

But if you're feeling different now,
I'm glad you're getting over Saima.

It's not a relationship.

No, it's just a... a one-night thing.
You know, casual. Casual sex.

God, A-Rab. There's well done
and then there's well done.

He's hopeless, isn't he?

Oh, well, lucky you've got
me around now.

Mm, yeah.

Did you know that, er...
New Jersey has a spoon museum

with over 5,400 spoons from every
state in almost every country?

Not that, er... the style and design
of the spoon really...

deviates much from region to region.

You know, they're essentially
always... spoon-like.

Three things a man
should never have to wait for.

A good cigar, a stiff drink and
lunch.

So, I'm sorry
if I kept you all hanging on.

No, not at all. Hope you appreciate
our modest little setup.

It's just a token of our...

Right, er... if you need anything,
you just... you just holler,

cos I'll just be...

We're big fans. We actually saw you
play at the Masters back in 2006.

I appreciate it. It's folks like you
that keep me doing what I do.

So, er... how are your studies? At
school?

Your grades. Are they adequate?

Er... they're OK, I guess.

Seriously, kid?

What? It's a valid question.

You gotta tell some stories,
make 'em laugh.

Like the time you and your mom
came to visit me on tour.

No.

Little Ricky,
he's got a thing about ghosts.

They really don't want to hear this.

So, it's like two in the morning.

And this little guy is terrified to
make it to the toilet in the dark.

And, you know, nature calls.

Father, please.

So, me and the wife
are woken by this noise.

Vvv! Vvv! Vvv!

Vvv! Vvv!

Vvv! I'm thinking, "What the hell?

"Maybe the boogie man's
coming to get us."

This little guy is trying
to vacuum his goddamn bed dry!

He's standing there running it back
and forth like some crazy spic maid!

Well, if we're telling funny stories,
why don't we tell the one

about how you got caught
in flagrante delicto with the nanny?

Ah.

Or how you missed my birthday.

Or should I say birthdays,
like every year?

You shouldn't talk back
to your father, son.

He is a championship golfer,
after all.

I believe it's "was a championship
golfer", not "is".

What the hell is that
supposed to mean?

Rick...

Well, it means
you're a washed-up, old has-been.

So I'd enjoy this while you can.

Hey, nobody talks that way to me,
you hear? Nobody!

Is this what your mother's
been saying about me?

I can smell her bullshit all over
it. I don't have to take it

from her, and I certainly don't have
to take it from some kid

who wet the bed
till he was nine fucking years old!

Eight.

I wet the bed until
I was eight years old.

Oh, so Jake and Barry are both
idiots.

Mm. Guess what I found
in the bookcase behind the Bible?

My secret stash.

Yeah. Yeah, hide it in the boring
girl's office. She'll never know.

I know now.

Ugh. You know,
I came here thinking

people would see the real me.

But what do they see?
Boring, hillbilly, virgin Rachael.

Well, I'm sick of people
putting me in a box.

Aren't you?

Sick of people putting you in a box?

Well, everyone thinks
you're this dumb, slutty blonde.

Thank you.

Sure, you wander around waving your
bam-bams in people's faces.

Oh, yes,
I definitely think you've had enough.

Whoa, whoa. OK, well, you might
be OK with it, but I'm not.

Fuck 'em. I'm getting
out of the box.

"Relax," you said, "trust me."

You should never take advice
from intellectual inferiors.

What he said was out of line but
running away won't solve anything.

Try and stop me, I'll tell everyone
you touched me in my swimsuit area.

Is that what I think it is?

Please don't tell Bobby.

He'll tell the police.
I... I can't do jail. I'm too pretty.

Well, we better destroy
the evidence, then.

Right, I'm not pissing around any
more.

Get back to the bunk.

Why?

So you can get a big pat on the back
from my amazing father?

No, cos it's my job to stop idiots
like you wandering off from camp.

Well, Flynn, let me be the one
to burst your little bubble.

You're terrible at your job.

God only knows how
you were dragged up

if this is your idea
of "in loco parentis".

I'm trying to help you here but
you're making it really difficult.

Well, clearly your parents
did a marvellous job

of raising a narcissistic,
self-seeking... man whore.

This really isn't about me
and my family.

Aw. Touched a nerve? Is poor little
Flynny missing Mummy and Daddy?

They're probably glad to get
rid of you.

You don't know what
you're talking about.

And they'd probably be glad
if you never came back.

Fuck it.

Off you go, then.

See ya.

Rick Jnr is an idiot.

I would be proud to be Barry
Traviata.

Let's do it.

You know, in the state of
California,

it's actually legal to adopt
a monkey as your legitimate heir.

You know, I was just trying to
help him.

Sure, the kid can do math and shit,

but he's hopeless when
it comes to women.

Well, he's not the only one.

There's this girl.
It's sort of complicated.

Don't tell me. Let me guess.
She's out of your league, right?

You're hoping that one day she wakes
up and decides that you're the one.

Whoa.

You're good.

Forget about it, Gary.

Snakes with tits.

Turn your back on 'em for a second,
they'll fucking eat you.

It's funny.

I always knew one day I'd have the
father-son talk about girls.

I just...

didn't think it'd be with some...

stoned British guy,

instead of Rick Jnr.

We can't even talk about chicks.

Hey! What's the situation?

Yeah, it's all good.

Really? Because I can't see my VIP
or his son, either of them,

anywhere at all!

Bobby, I'm doing my best.

I don't want your best.

I want to know this
is under control.

I need to know this
is under control.

Is this under control?

It's under control.

OK.

Good. All under control. Thank you!

Bobby! Beaver photo time.

Let me do it.

Squeeze in tight.

Say beaver!

You have to make them
eat their vegetables, A-Rab.

I mean, they're just ignoring them.

You're not my mom.

Hey, how's it going?

Where's Rick Jnr?

Oh, he's left camp.

Yeah, packed his bags
and hit the highway.

Seriously?

What? He'll give up and come back.

Besides, the walk'll do him good.
He needs the exercise.

Dude, are you for real?

What if he gets attacked by
paedophiles?

Well, that's not gonna happen,
is it? He's not attractive enough.

She's kind of got a point.

Look, I tried to stop him
but I couldn't.

His dad's a dick, he hates it here
and he won't listen to me.

Probably because you
forced him into a humiliating date,

which is gonna take him
years of therapy to get over.

Rachael! Got a bit of a situation.

Rick Jnr's kind of...
He's kind of run away.

Oh, so, now you want
the whole Good Samaritan act?

Well, Flynn Spencer,
you can spin on it.

That's, er... that's the wrong
finger.

Oh, go tell it to your girlfriend!

Rachael! Come on!

Don't worry, Flynn. I'll get him back
for you.

No.

He needs us.

All right, I get it. I'm a bad
person. I'll sort it out, OK?

You have got to be
the world's slowest walker.

Just leave me alone!

Why are you so desperate
to go home, huh?

Why do you think things
are gonna be any better back there?

I don't want to talk about it.

And I never said I wanted to go
home. That was your inference.

OK, so why don't you want
to go back home?

They're divorcing.

It's so cliched.

They've been bickering
about custody.

It's like Kramer vs Kramer.

Except neither of them wanted me.

Oh, it's OK, Flynn.

You're emotionally underdeveloped.
I didn't expect you to understand.

I don't know why he came here.

He's trying to get to know you.

He cares nothing for me,
for my passions.

He hasn't asked me one question
about art or literature.

When was the last time you asked him
about something he cares about, huh?

You know, you could put
that superiority complex to some use.

Be the bigger man.

Look, sorry, I've got to go
do something.

OK. What are we doing?

No, just me, all right?
I need to check Rachael's OK.

She's not your girlfriend,
you know.

I know.

But, um... sort of... neither are you,
really.

What about last night?

Yeah, um... about that?

I'm sorry if you got the wrong idea,
with us sleeping together
and everything.

I mean, not that it wasn't lovely.
You know, sex, brilliant.

We didn't have sex.

Er... you said it was really special.

It was! A really special night.

We opened up to each other.
We talked. You cried.

Do you know how hard it is to find a
guy who's in touch with his feelings?

Well, um... I'm really not.

I mean, if I was, I probably
wouldn't still be standing here talking to you.

No offence.

So, you lied to me? This whole
sensitive thing, it's just an act?

Well, no. I mean...

yes,

yes, it is.

I'm sorry.
I'm just a bad person.

Did you tell everyone
we slept together?

Kind of, yeah.

I don't think we should
see each other any more.

I understand.

Listen, it's been great
having you on the show.

Take care.

Where did it all go wrong?

How do you do it?

What?

The final Kahula Beach level.
How do you get the hole in one?

Rick Traviata's Extreme Golf.

I don't know. I haven't played
the fucking game.

It's just some piece of shit
I slapped my name on.

Piece of shit?

That... that was a work of art.

You ever think that maybe
if you spent more time
out in the real world

experiencing life

and less time sitting on your ass
playing shitty video games,

you wouldn't be so bad with women?

Being honest, man.

Making friends again, are we, Daddy?

Nice to see you again.

Hope you enjoyed your stay with us.

You hit any good... balls recently, or...?

Uh... sure. Uh...

guess so.

You should try it some time.
I'll take you out.

Been there. Done that.

I'll pass.

When?

Oh, there was
this mini-golf thing at camp.

Me and a couple of my friends
went down and played a round.

Honestly, I can see
what Mark Twain meant

when he said it was
a waste of a good walk.

He one of your friends?

Yes, Dad, Mark Twain
is my best friend.

Well, I'd like to meet him some time.

I'm, um... I'm glad you've made
some buddies. Really.

Dad?

Mark Twain is
a 19th-century American author.

Samuel Langhorne Clemens.

I know who Mark Twain is.

But you are making friends, right?
Things are OK?

Yeah. They're OK.

Just step away from the cart.

Come on.

What are you doing?

Nothing. I am certainly
not stealing Bobby's golf cart.

Because a boring person
wouldn't do that.

And I'm... boring.

Yeah, you certainly like
to go on about it.

Ha!

You're drunk.

Knew you wouldn't understand.

Come on, scoot, eh? Friends
don't let friends drink-drive.

No, no.

You're both nuts.
Just get out of the cart.

No, no, no. Honey, I'm too... too tense.

My boy's in your bunk, right?
Brandon.

Uh... yeah, yeah, yeah.

Pretty good on the field too.
Yeah?

You might have
a little Joe Montana on your hands.

Joe Montana!
Thanks.

No problem.

That was really sweet, Jake,
and very grown-up.
Don't you think, Barry?

Um... thanks for not
blowing his cover.

She was right. We've been acting
like a couple of little bitches.

So, come on, man.
What do you say we hug it out?

Come on.

Uh!

You see, Barry, I'm a winner,
and you are always gonna be
a fucking loser.

So, big smile
and give my girl the thumbs up, OK?

Is this thing on?

Ha! Uh...

we... we hope
you've enjoyed this... this day...

er... as much
as we have enjoyed having you.

Um... er... who knows?

We... we might still have a, er...
a surprise up our sleeves.

Er... and remember, we are always
happy for parents

to be involved on every level.

Er... spiritually, physically,
er... financially.

I would never be so, er... crude
as to ask you for donations.

Doesn't mean we don't want 'em.

Thank you, Bobby.

And here we are, my lady.

Shit! Shit!

Uh-oh. Ooh!

Get back, you bastard!

Looks like we're gonna slam.

Er... ladies and gentlemen,

I'd like to thank
Mr Hussain for, er...

for recreating the famous golf cart
crash of the 1992 British Open.

And, er... what better way
to welcome our star guest,

the man behind the wheel on
that fateful day, Mr Rick Traviata!

You want to make an entrance,
you know, just ask.

I'm not gonna talk
about Beaver Falls.

I'm gonna talk about something
more important. My son.

This place means a lot to him.
It's a place of safety.

Of wonder. Of... and adventure.

For him and his little fat friends.

Like Mark Twain.

And great counsellors like Flynn
and Gary and... the Indian guy.

You know, sometimes I wish I could
have been

more than just a
championship golfer.

Sometimes I guess I wish I could have
been a better father, but I know

this camp has made my boy a better
son,

which is why I'm pleased to present
this cheque to my good friend, Bobby,

in the hopes that Beaver Falls
will continue to grow and grow.

Don't touch me, Bobby.

Why did you get in the golf cart,
A-Rab?

Well, because I get it, you know.

Everyone has this idea of you,

and the only way to change it is to
do something

so out of character that...

They'll say, "Heavens to Betsy,
I didn't expect that."

Yeah. Yeah, apart from the
"heavens to Betsy" bit.

I want you to take it.

Take what?

My virginity!

Cos everybody thinks it's a big deal
that I've never done it,

and I might as well get it over with.

Oh, you old romantic, you.

Seriously, though, I'm too good in
bed.

You really want to be sober
to appreciate it.

So, it's fine for Louisa
but not for me?

Rachael, I didn't sleep with her.

I knew it!

He didn't sleep with her.

You know, I...

I like you, Rachael.

A lot. And if anything
ever happened between us,

I'd want it to...

you know, to mean something.

A-Rab, I am not as drunk
as you think I am.

Well, at least you didn't run away.

'Hello?'

Hi, Mum.

'Andrew!'

It's the hottest day of the year.
Everyone's getting some.

B-O-B-B-Y!

It's bad.

Oh, God.

By the fringe of Beaver!

I'm having a big curfew party
tonight.

I told you, no going in my shed.

No, no, don't!

I need to find Rachael.

You know a lot about sex,
but you know nothing about love.

Saima. What the hell
are you doing here?

Today has made a mockery
of my teenage years.

Rick Traviata's
Extreme Golf is a lie.

Off the palm tree.

What?

On the final Kahula Beach golf
level.

You get the hole in one by bouncing
the ball off the palm tree.

No fucking way!

Oh, it was painfully obvious.

Especially as there was a big arrow
over the palm tree.

But I thought that was a balloon.

Barry, let it go.

Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd, MemoryOnSmells