Trailer Park Boys (2001–2018): Season 11, Episode 10 - The All You Can Eat Shit Buffet - full transcript

Boys, I'm sorry I can't
come on this one with you

but my nerves
are just too shot

and somebody in
this area scares
the fuck out of me.

Don't worry about it,
Bubs. You stay here
and relax, all right?

We can take care
of this, no problem.

Just make sure
those idiots don't
get out of there

until the fucking
deal's done, okay?

Lahey: (From trunk)
Julian, please!
I'll do anything.

I'm fucking...
(Indistinct)

Randy:
Please, Julian.
I've got really bad gas!

Just keep drinking until you
pass out, you fucking drunk.
(Farting)



I'll give you something
to fucking chew on
right now, cuz.

Over the rainbow,
motherfuckers.

Let's go.

All right,
let's do it.
Ricky: See you soon, Bubs.

Okay, I'm going to
be over in my shed.

I'll come and check
on you guys though,

and I'll make sure
you have water later.

Lahey:
Wait! Bubs!

Don't walk away,
Bubbles, come on, bud!

I'll make you a deal.

Nope, sorry.
No fucking deals. No way.

Randy:
Please, Bubbles,
we could die in here.

It's inhumane. It's hot.

For fuck's sakes, all right.



Just... hang on.

Look, I'll send you some...

delicious roast chicken chips
down the fucking pipe here.

Barb:
Bubbles?
These go great with liquor.

(Crunching)

Bubbles?
Ahh!

Bubbles, I got back
as quick as I could.

Did you... Have you
heard anything about Jim?

Uhh, no I haven't.
I've been really...

busy just putting chips
in my gas tank here.

Lahey:
Barb! Is that you, Barb?

Jim! Jim!

What is he doing
in there, Bubbles?

You let him out right now!

Look, Barb, I can't do that.

He's hard on the liquor.

Lahey:
No, he's lying, Barb.

I haven't even had a drink.

Julian kidnapped us.

Us? Wh... who
do you mean, us?

Randy:
Hi, Barb.

Oh, my God. Randy!

Bubbles, you open
that trunk right now

or you will be evicted
from this park!

I can't do that, Barb,
even if I wanted to.

I don't have the keys.

Oh, rea...
I don't have the keys.

Oh, really?
What, you mean
these keys?

I'm coming, Jim.

Look, Barb.
You can't open that.

Look, there's more at
play here than you know.

Oh, Jim.
(Grunting)

What the hell is going on?

Jesus Murphy.

Randy and I are both
on the force now, Barb.

What? Oh my God,
you are drunk.

(Slurring)
No, I'm not.

What the hell
has happened here?

You promised me that
you were going to be
supervising the park.

Well, the liquor's
supervising the
park, Barb.

The liquor's
supervising the park,

and it's supervising me,

and it's supervising Randy,

and it's supervising this too.

No!
Jim! Jim, Jim, Jim.

Jim, let him
go right now.

I can't do that, Barb.

Bubbles, are you
hungry, bud?

(Straining)
Uhh, a little bit. Why?

'Cause we're going
to an all-you-can-eat
shit buffet.

(Theme music)

Well, things are all set up.

We've got Snoop's guys, they're
on their way with the boat

and I'm feeling pretty
fucking good about everything.

Now all we've got to do
is just stick to the plan.

(Phone ringing)

What's going on?

Ricky:
I fucked up, man.
I've got to stop for gas.

No, no, no, no.
You're not... Ricky. Rick...

For fuck's sakes.

(Bubbles whimpering)

Bubbles:
Please, Mr. Lahey,
please let me out of here.

I don't like the dark!
(Whimper)

Oh, it's not very nice
in there, is it, Bubbles?

Make sure the shit
spiders don't get you, bud.

Bubbles: (Screaming)
What? Shit spiders?

Good day, gentlemen.

I'd like to have every
goddamn ounce of liquor

and every fucking gun

you've got in the goddamn joint.

What the fuck are
you talking about?

You better back
the fuck off

or you'll get
knocked the fuck out.

That's right, bitch.
Who the fuck do you
think you are anyways?

Good idea.
(Gunshot)

(Mixed shouting)

Are you fucking crazy?
What the fuck?

I don't know.

Am I?
Man:
(Moaning in pain)

Are you calling
the liquor crazy?

Huh?

You're fucked up.

You've got beautiful eyes.

Fuck off, Lahey.

Okay, boys...
Guns now!

Give me the
fucking guns now!

(Indistinct chatter)
Sammy O.G:
Jeez, cuz.

Yo, this shit
right here, cuz?

This shit is sweet and salty.

That shit's
pretty nice, eh?

Yeah...
It's the shit.

Julian:
What the fuck
are you doing, man?

I told you not to stop!

I needed fucking
gas, Julian.
It's not my fault.

Sammy wanted to
try some pepperoni.

This shit is tight, cuz.

Oi! Would you mind
putting that cigarette out

before you blow us all
up, you fucking dummy!

It's not a fucking cigarette,
it's a joint, dummy.

And you can't fucking
blow yourself up at the
gas pumps with a cigarette.

I saw it on Myth-dusters.
So tongue my tasty balls.

It is gas vapour and...

an ignition source.

You're damn right
you could blow us up.

Oh, my fuck, yeah. Look at me.
I'm going to blow up the world.

A little bit gas and
a fucking weed joint.

Ricky, what are you
doing? Ricky, get up.

Get up, get up, Ricky!
Man:
Sir!

Extinguish the cigarette
and step away from the pumps!

Holy fuck, man.
Everybody calm the fuck down.
Nothing can happen here.

Put it out now or
I'm calling the cops.
All right. I'll put it out.

Just let me have
a couple more drags.

Call the goddamn
cops on him anyway!

Julian:
Hey, hey, listen.

Here, want this?
Fucking take it!

Julian:
Ricky, that's enough!

Listen, my friend here
is on medication, okay?

He doesn't know
what he's saying.

You apologize to
these nice people.

All right. I'm sorry
that you two are so fucked!

That's enough!

All right, okay, don't
got to call the cops.

We're leaving now,
anyway. All right?

(Phone ringing)
Thanks, man.

What the fuck is
wrong with this world?
Get in the fucking car.

Fucking idiots.

(Phone ringing)

Yo, what up, T?
...so fucking a-scared
of everything.

Yo, Julian, man.
Mr. Lahey just busted
in the trailer, man

and shot Mr. Green in the leg.

He fucking took off with
a bunch of guns and liquor, man.

Julian: (On phone)
What? Are you
fucking kidding me?

Where's Bubbles?
I don't know, man.

It sounded like
he was in the trunk.

Oh, my fuck.

All right, all right.

We've got to go.
We've got to go!

Get in your fucking car
and let's go!

What's happening?
We've got to go!

Oh fuck, don't blow
yourself up there, dickhead.
(Engine ignition)

Fuck's sakes.

Cory:
(Speaking indistinctly)

Fuck.

Sammy O.G.:
Hold on!

Ah, fuck. Ah, fuck!

Julian:
Bubs, I'm on my way.

Sammy O.G.:
Ah..

(Siren wailing,
engine revving)

Okay, Cory, Jacob,
I'm going to
fucking pull over.

When I do,
you guys jump out,

fucking tell the cop
to fuck off, tell him
to suck your cock.

Do whatever you have
to do, just make them
fucking chase you

so you get them away
from us, all right?
What?

No talking, boys.
This is your fuck-up.

You're going to have to make
it look good. And make them
fucking go after you.

Ready?
Yeah... fuck...

Right...
Bail, bail, bail!

Good luck, boys.
Good luck.

Cory & Jacob:
Hey, you! Fuck you... pig!
Suck my di-i-ick.

Jacob:
Okay, go, go, go. Run.

Where the fuck
are you guys going?

What are they doing?

This is some bullshit, cuz.
It didn't work!

Fuck!

(Siren wailing)
Oh, fuck, fuck,
fuck, fuck, fuck!

Jesus Christ, Ricky.
(Turn signal clicking)

(Siren stops)

Hey.

Hey, officer.
Can I help you?

Mind telling me
who you were talking
to on the phone

that was so
important you needed
to break the law?

Uhh, I wasn't talking
on the phone, man.

Mind stepping out
the vehicle, sir?

Hey, what's in that
glass, right there?

Fuck!

It's just root beer, man.

What's in these boxes?

Uh, it's just lobster.
I'm just heading
to the grocery store.

Grocery store's
back that way.

Do you mind if
I take a look inside
these boxes, sir?

Well, they're...

Hey, are those dumb fucks
coming back or what?

Fuck. Fuck! Fuck 'em!

Motherfucker, go! Shit.

They're all... I'm
the delivery guy, man.

They're all
shrink-wrapped up.

I don't know.
You can smell them.

You can smell them, man.
Just open one box
for me. Come on.

Just open one box?
Just one box.

Uhh... Which... This one
here or this one here?

It doesn't matter.
Just open a box.
Officer!

What the fuck are you doing?
There's a huge fucking
accident over there

on Cole Harbour Road...
What are you guys
talking about?

It's fucking bad,
people are mangled...
What?

...there's these two
fucking weird dudes
waving guns around,

threatening people.
Bang, bang!
Are you serious?

Jesus Christ, nothing
came in over the radio.
Yeah!

You're going to wait
for this to come in
over the radio, man?

People are fucking dying!
Get the fuck over there now!

Bodies everywhere!
All right, all right,
all right, God damn it.

Wait right here.
Unit 27. I need back-up.
...small engine repair.

We've got a... 10-54
on Cole Harbour Road,
possible 10-32.

Dumb fuck.
A possible 10-32.
(Engine ignition)

(Siren wails)
That was a real
cheers, motherfucker.

Go, go, go, go,
go, go, go!

I don't know how
you do it, man,
but thanks, buddy.

Cops are fucking dumb.

We're down two guys because
of fucking two other dummies.

Let's go, let's go.
Fuck's sakes.

(Whimper)
Where are the
fucking boys?

I don't know.

And where's this fucking
thing going down, Bubbles?

I don't know!
I don't know anything!

Really?
(Gunshot)

(Whimpering)
I'm not fucking
around, Bubbles!

I know, I know
you're not. I see that.

But... I'm not afraid
of you, Mr. Lahey.

I know there's a good
person in there behind
this liquor veil.

I know that you
would never shoot me.

Oh?
Bubbles,

I just watched
Mr. Lahey shoot Mr. Green

not 20 minutes ago.
What?

We're not fucking around.
What...

Right, Mr. Lahey?
Right, Randy.

Bubbles,

I'm just going to ask
you one more time

to take us to where
the boys are,

or the cops
are going to go

and you're
going to have

a great big fucking
hole in your leg.

(Whispering)
Okay.

Yeah.
(Seagulls cawing)

I got you, kid.

A'ight, listen up, boys.

They're pulling up to
the drop point now, cuz.

Let's do this shit.
Right on, man.

This calls for a
celebratory fucking joint.

Ha-ha! My nigger.
(Phone rings)

No, no, no, boys.
We've got to go.
Fuck that.

Bubbles: (on phone)
Julian!
What's up, Bubs?

Lahey and Randy got out.
They've got me trapped
in the fucking trunk now.

How the fuck did they get out?

Barb Lahey fucked
everything up.
I'm sorry, Julian.

I'm scared, I've never seen
Lahey this crazy before.

All right... hang tight.

We're coming for you.
Ricky:
Yeah, Bubs.

I don't know if you
have to, Julian.

I'm pretty sure
we're on our way to you.

You told them where we are?

Well, he had a fucking
gun pressed to my leg.

Yeah, sorry about that!

Look, just go get
the deal done.

I'm going to try to MacGyver
my way out of here.

Julian:
All right.

Lahey's coming for us.
We've got to go, boys.

All right, can you
untie that, Sammy?

Motherfucker,
I don't even roll
my own blunts. Shit.

What the fuck?
You can't untie a rope?

Ricky, untie it.
Fuck's sakes.

Julian:
Jesus, man.

It's all fucking
wind-cocked.

Just fucking untie it.

Do you want me
to shoot it off?

Put the fucking
gun away, Sammy!
Asshole, fuck off.

For fuck's
sakes, Ricky.

All right.
Are we good?

We're fucking ready to move!
What are you waiting for?

Julian:
Man, that boat is killer.

Yeah. Two million dollars.

Both:
Two million?
Yeah.

Holy fuck.
(Indistinct)

Holy...

That's the kind of
money I want, man.

Fucking right.

(Gunshots)

Fuck!
Who the fuck is
shooting at us?

Julian:
Get rid of them!

Ah! Fuck!

Jesus Christ!
(Engine whining)

Julian:
Fuck!

...motherfuckers
shooting at us right now.

Be ready to deal
with that shit.

You know what? Fuck it!
Spray them fools.

(Automatic weapon fire)

(Laughing)
Fuck off!

Sammy O.G:
(Indistinct)
Julian: Yeah!

Sorry, man.

(Gunshot)

Holy fuck, it sucks
to get shot in the hand.

It really fucking hurts!

Come on, guys. I led
you to the fucking spot.

Can't you just
let me go, please?

Oh, we can't let
you go yet, Bubbaroo.

The festivities are just
fucking getting started, bud.

You know...
I always thought

that you had to let the
liquor do the thinking.

But you know what?
It's not enough.

You have to let the liquor

take ab-so-lute control.

That's the key to success.

Down the hatch, bud.

I can't chug
all this, Mr. Lahey.

You can't chug all...

Randy, don't fucking
question me!

I know what the fucking
hell I'm doing!

Chug the fucking thing!

Mr. Lahey, you're
having a liquor surge.

I don't give a fuck
if I'm having a
fucking liquor sur...

Randy, don't
fucking question...
(Angry muttering)

Just drink it, Randy.
Just drink it.

You're fucking
right, Bubbles.

Your fucking turn, bud.
(Panting)

Yes, sir, you're going
to thank me for this.

Oh, Mr. Lahey,
I can't drink...

Yes, you fucking
can, Bubbles.

There you are.

Hey, don't think
about it, Bubbles.

Don't think about it.

Just do it, bud.

Just do it.
(Gulping)

Go with the
liquor, buddy.

Go with the liquor.

(Coughing)

Holy fuck!

That's everything.
You got it, man.
You got it.

Nice.

That is a done deal,
motherfuckers.

Good doing
business with y'all.

Here is your
motherfuckin' money.

Julian:
Right on.

Yeah.

Sammy O.G.:
Minus the bail
money you owe me.

Ricky:
Holy fuck!
(Laughter)

Oh, man.

Hey! Motherfucker,
you crying right now?

No, man. It's just the
most beautiful thing

I've ever seen in my life.

Oh, go ahead,
count that shit, make
sure it's all there.

No, we're good, man.
I trust you guys.

Right on.
All right, man.

(Indistinct)
Thank you, guys.
Thank you.

Yo, untie them fools.

(Motor roars)

Shit.
(Laughs)

Awesome, man. Awesome.

Cheers, man!

Man, this money's
fucking awesome.

It's pretty
fucked-looking, though.

Man, it's real, man.

And we're getting
fucking wasted tonight.

Ricky:
Fucking right.

Wait now. We've got
a bogey incoming at us.

Ricky:
What? Is it the fucking cops?

Lahey: (Tuneless singing)
Bubbles: (Indistinct shouting)

Julian:
No, it's Lahey.

(Gunshots)
Fuck! Shit, get down!

Ohh, fuck! I'm shot! Again!
Bubbles:
Boys, I'm fucking wasted!

They've got Bubbles.
Stay down, Ricky.

Ricky:
What the fuck are you
idiots doing? Fuck off!

Lahey:
Stop shooting at us!

Bubbles:
Don't shoot, Ricky, don't shoot!
Julian: Don't shoot, Ricky.

Fuck, stay down!
Bubbles:
(Whimpering, yelling)

Bubbles:
He's got me, he's got me, boys.

Julian:
What the fuck do
you want, Lahey?

Lahey:
Okay boys, throw
your guns in the water!

You put your fucking
guns down, right now.

The liquor has control
of the situation.

Okay, don't fucking
hurt Bubbles.

I won't hurt Bubbles

but I'm going to
fucking shoot you, Julian.

I just shot Mr. Green

so I'm not going to have
any fucking problem
shooting you, bud.

He did too,
and he blasted him.
(Whimpering)

For fuck's sakes!

Lahey:
Throw your fucking
guns over, boys.

(Splashes)

Thank you very much.

Now fucking throw
me over that money

that you know you've got
in the fucking bag, Julian.

Not a fucking chance,
you asshole.

Julian, do you know
what a shit bubble is?

Julian:
What?
A shit bubble.

Now, Julian, a normal bubble,

when you put it in the water,

kind of rises to the top,

but a shit bubble, Julian...

a shit bubble sinks right
to the goddamn bottom.

You fucking
leave him alone!

Bubbles:
Boys, don't let him
put me in the water.

I'm fucking wasted!

You're drunk?
I'm fucking shot twice
over here, Bubbles!

Bubbles:
I didn't want to get drunk.

I'm going to count to ten

and then I'm going to
start carbonating the ocean

with shit bubbles.

Ten, nine,

eight, seven...
Ricky:
Fuck off!

We need music!

Hey, Julian!
(Music plays)

Have you got a
Speedo on under there

or are you more
of a thong man?

Would you go fuck yourself!

Lahey:
Oh, doesn't matter anyway,

because little Bubbles
is going fucking swimming

if you don't send me
the fucking money!

No, Julian. Don't let him
put me in the ocean, Julian!

Lahey:
Come on, Julian.

Bubbles:
I'll sink!

Six...
Give us the
money, Julian!

five... four...

Frig off, Ricky!
Three...

Wait, wait,
wait! You...

You give him
to us and we'll give
you the money.

♪ Crazy Bubbles ♪
Julian...

♪ In the brine ♪
I can't go in the brine.

♪ Make me happy ♪
Come on, Julian.

Give him the money, Julian.
It's fucking Bubbles here.

Why do you have to be
such a fucking
asshole all the time?

Four...
Julian, I can't...

Julian, I'm fucking serious.
Don't fuck with me.

Give him the
fucking money!
...all right! All right!

Lahey:
Three...
Hang on, Bubs.

Fu-u-uck!

Give me the money, Julian...

Hey, Randers. Holy...

Ricky:
Let him go! Let him go!

Lahey:
We're fucking rich, Randy!

We fucking
made it, Randy.

Rick, you fucking...

Man: (on radio)
We've got reports
of gunshots offshore.

Which one of you shot me, huh?
Was it you, Randy?

Was it fucking you?

I'll shoot you frigging
again. Frig off!

Oww. Okay, Bubs.

Julian:
Come on, buddy.
We've got you, buddy.

Bubbles:
(Whimpering)
Come on, buddy.

Lahey:
Randy. Put your
fucking gun up, Randy.

You're fucking dead.
You are fucking dead.

Man: (on radio)
Chief Green, suspects
located. Moving in.

I finally fucking
beat you, bud.

You lose, bud.
(Boat approaching)

Man: (On loudspeaker)
Everyone drop your weapons

and put your hands
in the air! Now!

Listen, we are not armed!

We were fucking cruising around.

These idiots pulled up and
shot us for no fucking reason!

Man: (On loudspeaker)
All right, gentlemen,
put your hands up now.

(Whimpers)
Hands where I can see them.

We got our hands up.

Sir, put the
beverage down,

and put your
hands up.

What the fuck are
you talking about?
I'm shot, you asshole!

Man: (on radio)
Scene is secure here, chief.

We're bringing
both boats in now.

You might want to have
an EMT on stand-by.

We've got a couple
of gunshot wounds here. Over.

Yeah, take your time.

Let them bleed out
for a little bit.

Why the fuck are
we in handcuffs,
you fucking dummies?

We were out there fishing,
minding our own business.

These drunk pricks
show up and shoot us
for no fucking reason!

That's a pile of
sheep shit, Ricky.

We were making a
shit-izen's arrest.

Multiple gun
fights out at sea.

Pretty subtle, guys.
Ah, fuck off, George.

Ah, fuck!
This was a big score, chief.

Get all of this
down to evidence

and we'll get
everything sorted out.

Oh, don't worry about it.
I'll take care of it.

Chief Green.

I'm Detective Hartford,
Internal Affairs.

I'll take these
from you, sir.

Put your hands
behind your back.
Excuse me?

No, we've been watching you
for a long time, George.

Money laundering, insurance
fraud, theft of evidence.

We've got it all
on tape too,

thanks to the awesome work
of Officer Johnson here.

You're going
to jail, George.

A wire, Ted?

Seriously?

You miserable little shit.

You're the one who should
be investigated, not me.

Oh, I was being
investigated, George.

But I sucked my way out.

Have fun in jail.

Fuck you!

You motherfucker!

You little
bag-sucking whore!

Get the fuck back here!

Come here,
you cocksucker!

I'm going to tear
you a new one!

I'm going to shit
down your fucking neck!

(Playing "Amazing Grace"
on harmonica)

You know...

a lot of non-believers...

they think of people who talk
to the liquor are crazy.

But, you know,
they don't realize

that not only is the
liquor a powerful entity,

it is an irresistible force.

It is all-knowing.

It is all-loving.

Talking to the liquor

is like talking to God.

Mr. Lahey's been
really different

since he got back
on the liquor this time.

It's worrying me.

Even though he hasn't
had a drink in weeks,

he says that the liquor's
still talking to him,

it's telling him what
to do and how to think.

It's weird!

He's even talking about
building a liquor altar,

whatever in the frig that is.

We just got goddamn lucky,

there's no other
fucking way to say it.

You know, they didn't
have any evidence
tying us to a crime

technically, so they had
no choice but to let us
go, thank fuck.

It was a bump in
the road for sure

but at least now
I can get re-focused on
my pizza sauce business,

keep my head down,
work my nuts off

and just lead
a clean, honest life.

You know, we did make a fucking
lot of money but at the end of
the day it was dirty money

and I'd rather not have
anything to do with it.

And Ricky and Julian
completely agree.

(Click of lighter)

(Puffing)

The whole doing things legit

and being honest shit
is pretty fucking cool,
I guess, but...

I just can't stop thinking

about how much money
we made in 45 days.

We're never going
to make that kind of money

making goddamn
pizza sauce but...

yeah, I mean...

it is pretty fucking cool
to be honest, I guess.

For Bubbles I mean.

(Squirrel chirps)

Seriously?

The little fucker thinks he's
so fucking funny, doesn't he?

(Chirping continues)
Don't move.

Don't make a fucking sound.

(Gunshots)

All that fucking money
and it was mine.

Well, it was all of ours

but I had it right
in my fucking hands.

I'm going to get it back.

I've just got to figure out
how I'm going to do that.

It's all I can think about.

It's driving me fucking nuts.

Fuck's sakes.

Hm. Well, I should
have known better

than to listen to Randy

and I should know better

than to listen to
Bubbles, Ricky and Julian.

But, actually,

Julian and I
have had long negotiations

over the last few evenings

and we've, uh...

we've come to an agreement.

He has promised that
they're going to focus

on Bubbles' pizza sauce business

and, after all,
that's good for the park and...

we may have to have more...

negotiations...

moving forward but...

I'm quite happy
with the arrangement.

Hey, I've got no comment
about Barb Lahey.

What's important is I'm
back with Ricky and Bubbles,

you know, and I'd...
pretty much do anything

for those two fucking guys.

(Sighs)

Fuck off with the camera, guys.

I'm not going to tell you again.

The only reason I'm in here

is because
I wasn't blowing anybody.

And now I'm in here,

I'm probably going to have
to do it just to stay alive.

Is that what you want me
to say? That I'm going to
be somebody's bitch?

Fuck you and everyone like you.

Fucking gobs of shit.

Normally...

I'd be pretty stressed out
in a situation like this,

but the liquor said:

"This is all going to work out."

It told me not to worry,

(Whispering)
I'm going to walk out of here

and that money,
that's all going to be mine.

And Randy and I, we're going
to get married in Ireland,

just like we planned,

and everyone's going
to live happily ever after.

That's what the liquor said.

Yeah.

Praise be thy Lord,
the liquor.

Benedicium dominum
spiritus sancti.

(Theme music)

(Seabirds squawking)

Fish:
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck off! Fuck!...

Fuck off! Jesus Christ!

(Whisper)
Fuck.

(Light clicks off)
Fuck off.