Trailer Park Boys (2001–2018): Season 11, Episode 2 - The Walker Zombley - full transcript
Jacob has a reaction to Ricky's dog 'Coolnow' and must find him a new home. Randy begins his "training" for the police academy. The boys conduct a dirty deal with local farmers.
(Springs creaking)
Ricky: Oh, yeah, baby,
that's the stuff.
Oh, that's a nice rhythm,
just like that.
Yeah, just keep going
like that. Ohhh...
Trinity:
Oh, my God, Jacob!
Dad, help!
Ricky:
What the fuck's going
on, Trin, you okay?
Trinity:
It's Jacob, he won't wake up!
I can't tell if he's breathing.
Woman:
Jacob, Jacob, wake up!
Ricky:
Okay, just a minute.
I'll be right in, Trin.
Trinity:
Oh, my God!
He's breathing.
He's not okay.
I don't know what's wrong.
Ricky: Come on, we don't have
a lot of time,
gotta make this quick.
Just ignore the voices!
We can do this. Come on!
Jesus Christ!
Sarah:
Holy shit!
What the fuck are
you doing, Sarah?
What am I doing? What
the fuck are you doing?
Fuck off with the camera!
Who the fuck
were you talking to?
My hand.
What?
Sarah, I'm sorry,
this is all
I got right now.
I find if I talk with my hand,
it works a bit better, okay?
Ricky, you are
so fucked!
What the fuck's
going on with Jacob?
He's fucked up.
Come in.
(Shallow breathing)
Ricky:
Holy fuck!
Holy Fuck! Okay,
Trin, stay calm.
Grab a fucking knife
or something sharp.
You gotta shove it
right through his eye socket
and make sure it comes
out the other side.
Dad, what the fuck
are you talking about?
He's turned, Trin,
he's turned.
It's too late for
him now, okay?
Have you ever seen
"The Walking Of The Dead"?
It's okay, dude.
Stay calm, everyone.
Stay calm. Okay,
get away from him!
I'm gonna shoot him
through the fucking head!
That's what you've gotta do!
I gotta shoot through
the fucking head.
Bubbles:
Ricky! What are you doing?
Stay back! Stay back!
He'll try to bite you!
Dad, stop!
You can't shoot your
son-in-law in the head!
He's not my fucking
son-of-law anymore.
He's a walker zombley!
He's not gonna eat
my fucking family!
(Theme music)
(Mixed yelling)
If he bites us,
we're all going to
be fucking zomblies.
Get out of the way!
(Yells)
(Mixed yelling)
If we don't shoot him, we're
all gonna fucking die here.
Ricky, give me the fucking
gun! What are you doing?
Give it to me.
(Yells)
He's a zomblie.
Would everybody
calm down, please.
Ricky.
What?
There's no such thing
as zombies, okay?
What the fuck is
that, right there?
Rick!
We've got a lot
of work to do.
Stop fucking around.
Dad, you have to take
him to the hospital.
We've got a bit
of running around to do.
I'll take him
right after that.
No, Dad, now.
Look at him.
He needs to go
to the hospital.
I'm sorry, Julian. I know
we got a lot of stuff to
do but family comes first.
I love my fucking family.
Family?
Who? That?
The guy you were gonna shoot
in the head two seconds ago?
Hi, Julian!
Two seconds ago that
wasn't Jacob in my mind.
We've got to take him.
I don't want to catch
this shit
and the rest of my
family catching it!
Julian, it could be a fucking
crazy squirrel disease.
I bet that's what it is.
Fuck's sakes.
All right. Cory,
get him out of those
sex underwear and
strap him on the roof
with some straps and
top up my brake fluid.
My brakes have been fucking
me around lately, all right?
'kay, dude.
Dad, you're not strapping
him to the roof of the car!
He can ride in the car.
I'm not catching that shit.
Put him in the trunk, then.
He's probably gonna fucking
die anyway.
What? You think
I might die?
Have you looked
at yourself?
Yes, you could
fucking die!
You look fucked!
All right, Cory, you're gonna
go with them to the hospital.
Bubs, let's go to
the nutrients store.
Don't worry. We'll
take care of him.
All right, sweetie?
Good to see you guys.
Ricky, stop fucking around.
Promise?
Bubbles:
He promises, Julian.
I'm fucking sorry,
I thought you were a
fucking zombley.
But why would you
go and do this?
Like, you completely
fucked this day up!
I'm really sorry, Ricky.
I'm not jealous, Randy.
I just care about
you, that's all.
And I don't want
to see you get hurt.
And I'm sorry if
I care about you.
Randy, come on and
get your breakfast.
Double sugar bacon!
Randy:
I'm not eating
that, sir.
I'm off the bacon.
Oh, you're off the bacon?
Since when?
You had two whole
packages on Tuesday.
Randy:
Well, no anymore.
I'm in training.
Where did you
get the shirt?
Ted gave it to me.
He's gonna help train me
and he's going to
pull some strings
to get me into the
police college.
Oh, I see.
Is that all he's gonna
be pulling, Randy?
I don't like this, Randy.
I don't fucking
like this one bit!
Well, I'm doing it, sir.
And, if you care
about me as much
as you say you do,
you'll be supportive
and proud of me.
(Car honk beeping)
If anything crazy
goes down here today,
call me on my
cell for back-up.
For fuck's sakes!
(Dishes clatter)
Ricky:
Is he dead yet?
Cory:
Okay, we made it, dude.
You're gonna be all right.
How do you feel?
Oh, I felt better before
we left but I feel worse now.
(Coughs)
I think it's the exhaust fumes.
Cory:
Oh, man, I'm gonna
get a wheelchair.
It could be the
exhaust fumes
or it could be more
Symp-sons coming on.
If it is the exhaust
fumes, here smoke this.
It'll cancel them out.
Listen, Jacob.
There's something I
want you to know, bud.
I know that you probably
think that I think,
you know, you're...
a fucking idiot,
you're like some
weird insect-y man.
You know, my daughter
married a loser
with no fucking money
and no chance of
keeping a good job
because you're too dumb.
But you know what?
It doesn't even matter
if I did think all that.
I actually think...
(Coughs)
that you're a
pretty good guy.
I actually like you.
Thanks, man.
I think I've may
even been...
starting to love
you a little bit.
Anyway I just wanted
you to know all that
'cause you're probably
not gonna make it.
What?
You think I'm
not gonna make it?
Look at your
fucking hair.
It's just coming
right out, buddy.
You're fucked.
(Panting, wheezing)
Don't worry,
though, buddy.
Come on, we'll
get you inside.
Me and Cory
we're gonna be with
you till the end.
The end?
What do you mean,
the end?
What do you mean,
the end?
(Clanking)
Jesus Christ, Cory!
Why is all this shit
so expensive, man?
Look, that's 80 bucks.
Oh, I know.
I've been buying
it. I know how
expensive it is.
Bubs, stop grabbing
at yourself.
I'm not grabbing
at myself.
I get nervous and my
bird starts doing that.
If it's not at the
right angle, I get
a kink into it.
Why are you nervous?
We're not doing
anything illegal.
Oh, no... Nothing
illegal about growing
400 fucking dope plants
in record time!
Nothing illegal there.
We're buying
fertilizer, man.
Yeah!
Fuck, just relax.
Alrighty, fellas,
I've done some digging here.
I can do pretty much everything
on the old list here, buddy.
Perfect.
Except for the...
Nuclear Bloom,
she's on back order.
What? Isn't that the
most important shit?
How in the fuck
is it on back order?
Last week you had
almost a full barrel.
Yeah, but it's Sonny Ding,
the potato farmer.
Come in and
bought it all.
Sonny Ding from
Eastern Shore?
Yeah... Yeah, he's
only got one upper lip.
No, that's not Sonny.
(Chuckles)
Everybody's only
got one upper lip.
I'm just
fucking with you!
You got me.
So when are you
getting more in?
Oh, you're looking
at two weeks.
Yeah... Slow boat
from China shit.
Fuck's sakes.
Fucking China!
And their slow boats!
I know.
A bit of a
wake-up call, huh?
The police force
is not for everybody.
This is ridiculous.
There's lots of cops
fatter than I am around.
Actually, no there's not.
You're gonna have to lose
at least 50 pounds
if I have any hope
in hell of getting
you into the college.
Frig this.
(Panting)
I'm not losing any
frigging weight.
You gotta figure out
a way to get me into
the frigging college
or George is
gonna see this.
(Video recording on phone)
Ted: Harder.
Randy:
Why isn't it working?
Ted: Oh yeah.
Randy: How's that, Ted?
Ted:
Try harder, Randy,
try harder. Ooohh yeah.
Now take me through the
drive thru at the King.
And you're
frigging paying!
Big fuck-up, Cory.
(Chuckles)
(Indistinct call on P.A.)
Bye-bye.
Err, dude, I think
the horse moves in...
the shape of an R or
letter M or something.
What kind of a fucking
hornse would move in the
shape of letters?
It's a hornse. It goes
wherever the fuck it wants.
Unless it tied up but,
see any ropes here?
It's not tied up.
Fuck, you're dumb
sometimes, Cory.
I'm sorry, dude. Man,
I'm just so freaked out
about Jacob, man.
I don't know what to do.
I know.
Fuck, he's so young.
What a shame.
I know it must be
hard on you.
I mean, you already lost
one idiot best friend
and now you're going
to lose another one.
It's not fair.
Well, I don't he's gonna
die or anything, dude.
I think...
Oh, fuck, I knew it!
He didn't make it.
What?
Are you serious?
Fuck!
Jacob's dead?
No! No, no...
Cory, come here, bud.
We're gonna get
through this, man.
How the fuck am I
going to tell Trin?
(Sobbing)
Fuck's sakes!
Guys, guys,
Jacob's not dead.
He just had an allergic
reaction to dog hair.
But a violent one.
That's it?
He's allergic
to dogs?
Oh, my fuck.
Jacob, you
fucking idiot!
I'm really
sorry, Ricky.
It's, uh, it's not
Jacob's fault.
He has a very strange
element in his blood.
I've not been able
to identify it
but I'm guessing
it's related to his
reaction to the dog.
Now, uh, make sure you
keep this bracelet on.
It's got all your
information on it.
If the condition worsens,
I want you to come back
here immediately.
Okay, thanks, Doctor.
(Phone rings)
Hey, Julian.
Still dealing with
Fuckbrains here.
He's allergic to
dogs apparently.
Ooh, I'm going
to make everyone
think I'm fucking dying!
Yeah. Yeah,
it's right here.
Fuck off!
I'm on the phone.
I forgot where
I was, okay?
Yeah. I know exactly
where that is, man.
I'll be there in
15 minutes. Okay.
Hey, Ricky, can we
stop and get this
prescription filled
on the way back
to the park?
Yeah, we can. On the
way back to the park
but right now we're not going
back to the fucking park.
Get the fuck
out to the car!
You've wasted enough
of today already!
Fucking dog allergy!
What are you going to say
you're dying from next?
Getting stanged
by a fucking bee?
I hope not.
How long are you
going to be this
fucking colour?
You look
ridiculous.
I'm really
sorry, Ricky.
I don't know
what's going on.
What are you doing
going through the
fucking door first?
Jesus Christ!
Sorry!
Thanks, dude.
I can't believe he didn't
have a fucking drop left!
Not a fucking drop, Ricky.
She's all
in there somewhere.
Well, just FIY,
there's no fucking way
we'll grow enough weed in
43 days without that shit.
We're fucked!
Way to go, Jacob!
Sorry, dude.
Jacob, all you have
is a fucking allergy?
Yeah.
Well, kinda.
Doctor said
I had some sort
of unidentified
element in my blood.
Unidentified element?
Okay, boys, there's
nobody around.
It looks like the barrels
are up in that first
outbuilding up there, okay?
Cory, Jacob, I want
you to grab the truck,
go up and grab
the fucking barrel.
You got it.
Whoa, whoa, whoa!
Hang on!
Grab what truck? My truck?
Yeah.
No, no, no. I worked way too
fucking hard for that truck
to let fucking Red ET
and Drewberry Dumb
fucking use the thing.
That's not happening.
Bubs, do you have
insurance?
Yes, I have insurance.
I'm a legit businessman.
Well, circumstances
like this is...
that's why you fucking
have insurance.
Oh, yeah, no, I remember
reading that actually in
the insurance policy.
Paragraph 1: "If you use
your truck to steal something
and it gets fucked over while
the crime is in progress,
you are covered 100%
with zero deductible."
Bubs, if something
get fucked over,
which is not
gonna happen,
we'll just fucking burn the
thing and report it stolen.
You can say
there was tons of
shit in the front,
tons of shit
in the back.
It's a win-win
situation here, man.
And then you can buy
a real fucking truck.
A real t... That is
a fucking real truck!
You know who uses great
big trucks, Julian?
Who drives
around in those?
Guys with little,
tiny wieners.
That's who
drives those.
Oh, wait a second,
don't you have a
ridiculously large
jacked-up fucking
G.I. Joemobile?
Real funny.
Real fucking...
Go fuck yourself!
Look, are we just
gonna say to fuck
with everything?
You know, 'cause I'm quite
happy to go out in the ocean
and fucking fish
lobsters, man.
All right?
It's up to you.
Then maybe we can
hook up at Christmas
time or something.
'Cause I don't
give a fuck!
I know what you're
doing, Julian.
Yeah?
Is it working?
(Sighing)
Fuck off.
All right, give him
those keys. Let's go, boys.
(Sighs)
Here, boys.
Do not fuck
this truck up!
Right on, boys.
(Keys clicking)
Cory, Cory!
That... Come here.
Click that again.
(Clicking)
See the fire
coming out of there?
It's a lighter.
(Soft grunt)
Don't be fucking
with it.
(Clicking continues)
(Long sigh)
If my truck
gets fucked up...
It's not going
to get fucked up.
No, let me finish.
If my truck
gets fucked up,
I'm getting
your truck.
I'm taking it
and I'm selling it.
To somebody else
with a tiny wiener.
(Gunshots)
Ted:
Gentle now, Randy.
Gentle...
Just like that.
(Gunshots)
Ah! Ah!
Jesus!
Fucking Christ!
What the hell are doing?
Well, I've never
frigging fired
one of these
things before!
Come on,
let's just go.
No, I've got to
learn this, Ted.
I suggest you
friggin wrap your
friggin arms around me
and show me
how to hold this.
Unless you want the
guys downtown to know
some of the weird stuff
that you like done to you.
(Gunshots continue)
Come on.
Yeah, yeah,
okay, okay.
Widen your stance.
Straighten your arms.
Also stick your
bum out a little.
Okay... shoot.
(Gunshot)
Ahh!
(Grunts of effort)
(Straining)
Jeez, man!
This is crazy!
It's like, I'm pushing,
I'm pulling,
it's not even locked.
Nothing!
(Grunting)
There we go.
Hey, I knew that.
All right.
No.
(Dull thuds)
No.
No.
Hey, Cory, this one
sounds different.
Listen:
it sounds full...
(Dull thuds)
(Hollow thuds)
...the rest sound empty.
You sure?
Yeah, listen.
(Tapping)
Hear the difference?
Well, what if
this one...
(Hollow thuds)
is full and
that's empty?
(Dull thud)
(Clattering)
See? Full.
Right on, dude,
let's do it.
Ho...ly shit.
(Grunt)
On three.
One...
One, two, three.
(Straining)
Sorry, I didn't
really help.
One, two, three.
Cool.
(Grunt)
Hey, careful.
Okay.
Right.
That's easy, dude.
All right,
just don't drop it.
I'm not saying
there's no such
thing as aliens.
All I'm saying is Jacob
is not a fucking alien.
Ricky, Ricky,
did the doctor say
that Jacob had an
"unidentified element"
in his blood?
That's what he said.
Yeah,
because he's a fucking
alien, Julian.
He's a new species.
He's a Tall Red,
descended from
the Tall Whites,
I guarantee you.
This mean my fucking
grampson's an alien?
Well, he's half.
Mo's not
a fucking alien!
Jacob's not a
fucking alien!
Yeah?
Yeah!
Who have you
ever seen
with four-foot-long
arms, Julian,
that turns red
for no reason?
(Cellphone ringing)
Bubs, he looks
like a fucking alien,
all right?
Ricky's NHL ball hockey camp.
How may I help you?
There's no date
on the poster yet
'cause I haven't
fucking picked one.
'Cause I'm waiting
to see if there's
any interest first.
It says possible
because I can't see
in the future, okay?
They all say
they want to come,
what happens maybe
they're on their way here
and a fucking
earthquake derupts,
it fucking opens up,
swallows the fucking car,
and they're never seen
or heard from again?
It could happen, right?
Then I'd be
a fucking liar.
I'm not a liar.
My poster's not
a fucking liar.
Look, if you're interested,
call me back in a few days.
If you're not, it doesn't
really matter to me,
I don't give a fuck.
Fuck, people are stupid.
Ricky, that had to be
the dumbest conversation
I've ever heard in my life.
But no, you should've
heard what she was saying!
He's a fucking
alien, Julian.
All right, boys...
I'm telling you.
What are you
doing, man?
Hang on, boys!
Why do you always...
Whoo-oo!
Ricky!
Slow the fuck down!
(Cackling)
Ricky, slow
the fuck down!
Aww, fuck! The brakes
ain't working!
(Crash, clattering)
Man:
What the fuck!
Ricky:
Jesus Christ! Fucking Cory!
Julian:
Back it up, Ricky!
Bubbles:
Oh, fucking
nice one, Ricky.
Man: Holy shit!
What the fuck, man!
A nice one.
Fuck's sakes.
Crashed into that
guy's nice truck.
I hope my car's
all right.
What the fuck did
you do to the truck?
It's just
a little scratch.
Fuck!
I got the worst of it,
you fucking dummy.
What?
You heard me.
Take your tiny cock,
get in your truck
and fuck off.
Huh! You got
the worst of it?
(Mirthless chuckle)
Julian:
Gun!
Bubbles:
Jesus Christ!
(Gunshots)
Fuck!
Boys, have I got
to die in Reggie's
junk yard
because of
a fucking power
slide gone wrong?
Can we all put down our guns
and talk like normal
fucking human beings?
(Gunshots)
Oh, shit, dude, man,
you're totally like
my superhero, man.
Like, a real live
superhero, man,
you're my hero!
All red and shit,
lifting the barrel
over your head, man.
You totally did
most of the work.
You know that, right?
I don't
remember, man.
(Awkward chuckle)
I feel like
I'm dying, dude.
Well, that's
just it, man.
It's like, whatever
we put our minds to,
we can do together.
Do you know
what I mean?
Even when we're dying,
we get shit done, man.
Thanks, man.
You know what?
You complete me, man.
Thanks, man.
Hand me off.
Dunk.
Oh, sh...
Careful, man.
Sorry, dude.
Let me get...
Oh, shit, man.
Uh... I think
the barrel's gone.
What, you think
it's gone or it's gone?
Dude, I think
the barrel's gone.
We had a barrel in
the back and the
shit is gone. Look.
Dude, I can't see.
We've got to go
back and get it.
We've got to go
back and get it.
Go, go, go, go...!
(Gunshots, dog barking)
Man:
You got insurance?
Do I look fucking
dumb enough
to buy insurance,
you little shit vacuum?
(Gunshots)
Whoa! Whoa!
Whoa! Whoa!
What the fuck is going on,
you pigeon poking fucks?
You're scaring the shit
out of my cust...
Put the fucking
weapons away!
Hey, Reg.
Reggie:
Moose fuckers!
I fucking slid into
this come gargler's
dicktruck here
and he fucking
lost it on me.
Look at the little
tiny scratch.
Ah, Ricky...
Reggie:
So, Dougie.
Nice.
Here's how this is
going to go down.
You two guys
are going to take
your short, stumpy,
hobbitty asses,
get in this
gigantic truck thing
and get the fuck
off my yard.
Who the fuck are
you calling short,
stubby, and hobbitty,
you long-legged...
arctic-blonde prick?
Go fuck yourself, huh?
No, no, no, I think
it's "go fuck yourself",
you know, 'cause
the universe
is not responsible
for you two dipshits
growing up to be
mouse-diddlers,
are they?
So lose
the fucking attitude
and can we all
just stop shooting
at each other?
Now, you two,
fuck off!
(Quietly)
You fuck off.
Bubbles:
Short guys in big trucks.
There's nothing
fucking worse.
(Engine ignition)
Now what, pray tell,
can I do
for you
turtle jerkers?
Can I just ask
what the fuck
is up with you
and all the
animal sex fucking
references you use?
Well, it's kind
of my thing, dude.
It's cool, man.
Julian :
We need clones.
Lots of them.
Now you have
my attention.
How much is a lot?
300 or 400?
(Laughing)
Yeah, that's good,
Cheech and Chong.
What am I, fucking
Up In fucking Smoke here?
Oh, fuck's sakes,
you can't do it?
Well, now, I
didn't say that,
you porpoise-raping
piece of shit.
I'm Reggie!
Of course I can do it!
Right on!
He's the Reg, boys!
I told ya.
Bubbles:
Yeah, but see,
"porpoise-raping".
Why do you need
to call him that?
It's kind of funny.
I mean,
something in the
ocean probably
does rape them.
Octopusses,
fucking...
Octopusses don't
rape porpoises!
starfish...
How the fuck
could a starfish
rape a porpoise?
Salamanders
probably do.
They don't live
in the ocean, but...
Okay, dude,
minor setback.
Not a big deal, man.
We just get it
up there.
I've seen worse.
It's spilled
a little, but...
Oh, fuck,
it's all over me.
Well, we'll just put
it back in, dude. Look.
It's a good thing
you found it, man.
Hey, I don't remember
it being so white
and sticky and shit.
Let's get it
back on the truck
and get it back
to the park.
(Straining)
Yeah, hoist
it up, dude.
(Straining)
All right.
Ahh, fuck... okay.
You raise your end.
You go first.
Okay, argh...
Yeah, well, put it...
Oh, wait, no...
Okay...
Shit.
(Indistinct muttering,
grunting)
Ugh!
Oh, jeez,
fuck's sakes!
Okay, that's
all right, dude.
Here, do it again.
Okay, up.
(Straining)
Yeah, I got it.
Let's go.
(Both panting)
Oh, perfect, dude.
Okay.
Yeah, man.
Make sure you
strap it down good
this time, eh?
Great idea.
All right.
Bubbles:
There, Dougie,
you take that.
Just feed them
water for now, guys.
We're going to be
over, we'll teach you
exactly the formulas
to use, all right?
She's got two.
There you go.
And remember, the
bigger the plants,
the more money
you're going to make.
That's the last
of 'em. Right on.
This tomato plant
don't look right.
That's 'cause
it's a special, uh,
tomato plant
from Italy.
They grow a lot
bigger there.
Oh, yeah.
It's a special tomato
plant from Jamaica.
Huh?
It's still fucked.
You're fucked.
(Horn honking)
Speaking of fucked.
Cory:
What's up, dudes?
Ricky:
It's about fucking time!
Yo!
Boom! Look at that.
Your fucking brain's
about the size
of fucking tiny little
birds, you know that?
Yo, check it though.
Look.
What the fuck
does that say?
"Power braking fluid".
Power steering fluid!
It eats through
brake lines.
You almost had us
fucking killed,
you idiot!
Ricky.
What?
The nutrient company
change the formula?
When did it start
looking like
vanilla pudding?
What the fuck?
Why is it
that colour?
What the fuck is that?
Bubbles:
Well, Ricky, don't...
That's not it!
What the fuck is that?
Who the fuck is this?
(Door opening, closing)
Fuck!
Who the fuck...?
Man:
Which one
of you cocksuckers
is Jacob?
(Rifle clicking)
There's no fucking
Jacob here there,
flamingo tits!
I found this on the
ground at my farm
and I'm missing a
very valuable barrel.
Julian: Whoopdee shit,
you found something
on the ground.
What the fuck is it?
Hey, dude,
that's your hospital
bracelet, Jacob.
You are the son
of a bitch
that robbed me?
We're not fucking
around here, bud!
Where is it, boy?
Look, none of us
robbed from you, okay?
So get in your truck
and get the fuck
out of our park!
Oh, really, huh?
There it is, Harold.
Load it on the truck.
No, no, no.
You're not fucking
taking that.
We fucking need it.
Oh, we are taking it!
And I'll shoot every
fucking one of you
if I have to!
We'll fucking shoot you
too! I fucking love
shooting people!
Bubbles:
Ricky! Ricky, just wait!
Come on!
Hang the fuck on!
What if we just pay
you for it, okay?
And we'll forget
this ever happened.
Oh no, French guys,
but you don't like
the kind of people
that got 50 grand
lying around.
50 grand? For what?
For that shit?
Well, that's its value
when it's acquired by hand.
It's $280 at the
fucking hydroponics
store, you criminal.
Wait a second.
Hand-acquired?
What the fuck
is this stuff?
Bull semen!
What the fuck did
you think it was?
Bull semen!
(Retching)
Man:
Yeah, it's not just any
ordinary bull semen.
This is grade A,
100% organic,
hand-tossed
liquid fucking gold!
Okay.
(Violent retching)
Look, there's been
a huge mix-up here.
I sent these
two idiots out
to pick up a fucking barrel
of fertilizer in a barn.
They obviously went
to the wrong one
'cause they're dumb.
Ricky:
We had no idea, man.
Just take it
and get it the fuck
out of here, please!
Oh, we're going
to take it out
of here, all right.
Then we're going
to come back
with the cops
and sort this out.
You don't need
to call the cops!
We're giving it
to you back, man.
It's down a couple
of gallons
and these
tired old hands
ain't going to be
able to top it up.
Blisters healed
just a few days ago.
Ricky:
Stop fucking
talking about it!
What if I give you
these guys to jack
off your bulls?
They'll top it up,
we'll be cool.
Uhh, I don't know.
It's, uh...
(Retching continues)
...it's pretty hard
work, you know.
No, no,
they can do it.
They can do it,
believe me.
They've had lots
of experience
in that field.
I'll through a few
crates of lobsters
in there too.
Lobsters, huh?
Crates?
Uh...
Come on, man.
Yeah, well...
yeah, okay.
Oh, yes, I...
Yeah, yeah, okay.
Yeah, we got a deal,
We got a deal.
All right.
Harold,
load the load
of load.
Cory, Jacob,
help him with
the load.
What?
Help him out with
the fucking load.
Ricky, are you
all right?
Ricky! Ricky!
Do not wipe
your lips on me.
How big of a dollop
did you put on
your tongue?
(Groaning)
Oh, my fuck.
Not fucking right now.
What's the commotion here?
None of your fucking
business, Randy.
Julian, what the frig
are you doing here?
You know the rules.
I want you to leave
the park immediately.
Relax, Randy,
I'm just visiting.
Right, Julian.
Just visiting.
Well, you better be.
I'm not afraid
of you anymore,
tough guy!
What the fuck,
Randy?
You've got one
hour, Julian!
Ooooh!
When the fuck did
he start acting so
hard wearing a shirt?
Bubbles:
The same day he started
wearing blue bags.
Fucking cop wannabe.
Barb & Lahey:
(Imitating ducks
quacking, laughing)
Hey, guys!
There's my little man.
Barb:
Hi!
Thank you so much
for looking after him.
Oh!
He's really growing
attached to you guys.
Oh, my gosh,
it's no problem.
We're growing attached
to him. He's so gorgeous!
(Chuckling)
I'm going to
miss you so much
next week
when I'm away,
but I will bring you back
a lovely treat, okay?
Don't worry,
little Mo.
Uncle Jimmy will
still be around
to play with you.
Yes, I will! Mm!
Okay, Mo,
wave bye.
Oh, no, no, no, no.
I'm coming with you.
Come on.
I'm going to get
my little fix of Mo
before I go.
Come on, let's go.
(Chuckling)
See you, Mo.
Say bye.
Say, "Bye,
Uncle Jimmy!"
Randy:
Hey, guys.
Hey, Randy.
Hey, Mo, how's
it going, buddy?
Say hi.
Randy:
Good to see ya.
We've got to take
Julian and Ricky
down, sir.
Julian?
Yeah, he was
just here.
What?
There were two
farmers with guns,
a barrel of something
big and expensive.
Something big
is going down.
You could
talk to Barb,
convince her to
let Julian move
back to the park
and then we could
take them all
down at once.
It's not going
to happen, Randy.
Oh, you get to decide
just like that, do you?
Yeah...
Well, maybe... maybe
I'll decide then
this isn't going
to happen either.
Randy, Randy, Randy,
Randy, come on now.
Just relax, bud.
Okay, we'll talk.
Okay?
Okay.
You go in and
start supper.
I'll clean up.
Thanks for
listening, sir.
(Sigh)
My sexy Julian
back in the park, huh?
This is pretty much
it, Julian.
Everything comes
in there, you know.
Sliced and diced;
puréed and crushed;
over to the spiceland
for my proprietary
blend.
She gets cooked off
in the boiler,
goes in there,
pumped up into
the saucinator,
out into the bottle
and the capping
department.
It's a pretty fucking
streamlined operation.
No, man, it's pretty
fucking impressive.
No, I know.
So, what's the
profit margin
on each fucking jar?
(Sigh)
You see, profit
margin...
You've got to
know that, man.
I know.
And you know
all that stuff
and that's why you
should be living here
at the park with me.
(Sigh)
Just knowing
words like that,
I'd probably
make more money.
I know,
but I can't, okay?
I've got a good
thing going on at
the container, man.
It's peaceful
out there.
There's no stress
on the ocean, man,
it's beautiful.
(Door opening)
Ricky:
Hey, boys.
Hey, Ricky.
Bubs, I need
a little favour.
Coolnow obviously
can't be around
Jacob any more and...
Stop right there, Ricky.
Don't say another word.
You tell Jacob to put
him on a spaceship
and they can fly
up to Jacob's house
at the North Star.
He's not staying here.
Trin and Mo can't
move 'cause of a
fucking puppy dog,
and we can't get
rid of him, Mo loves
the little bastard.
Well, I'm putting my
foot down, Ricky, 100%.
There's two things
that dogs don't
mix with:
kitties and Bubbles.
Oh, like the...
the ones you blow
with bubble gum?
No! Me, Bubbles. Me.
Why didn't you
say "me"?
Because I sometimes
refer to myself in
the third person.
It's a thing I do.
That's confusing.
Anyway, it's only
for a little while.
It's nothing big
deal, right?
One day or so.
He's not staying,
Ricky...
I know.
I've got to say good night
to Mo, hold him
for a minute.
Ricky!
Thanks, buddy.
Love ya.
You're a good friend.
(Heavy sigh)
This is unbelievable.
Look at this now:
bull semen,
fucking dope clones,
shoot-outs,
and now this,
me looking after a fucking
wrangley old mutt.
It looks a hotdog
with hair on it.
Bubs, things got
a little fucky today,
but you've got
to be positive.
How good is it
to have all of us
back together
again, huh?
Huh?
I don't know.
Oh, come on, man.
Scale of one to ten,
how good does it feel?
Come on,
tiddle-iddle-iddle-
iddle-iddle!
Mmm.
Come on.
Mm...
a million billion.
That's how I feel.
Hey, little buddy.
He's fucking cute, man.
He's not cute.
He's got a big,
long nose.
Nobody likes that.
(Lips smacking)
Nobody likes those
cute little ears
and little tongue.
He's fucking cute, man.
I don't care what you say.
(Theme music)
(Seabirds squawking)
Fish:
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck off! Fuck!...
Fuck off! Jesus Christ!
(Whisper)
Fuck.
(Light clicks off)
Fuck off.
Ricky: Oh, yeah, baby,
that's the stuff.
Oh, that's a nice rhythm,
just like that.
Yeah, just keep going
like that. Ohhh...
Trinity:
Oh, my God, Jacob!
Dad, help!
Ricky:
What the fuck's going
on, Trin, you okay?
Trinity:
It's Jacob, he won't wake up!
I can't tell if he's breathing.
Woman:
Jacob, Jacob, wake up!
Ricky:
Okay, just a minute.
I'll be right in, Trin.
Trinity:
Oh, my God!
He's breathing.
He's not okay.
I don't know what's wrong.
Ricky: Come on, we don't have
a lot of time,
gotta make this quick.
Just ignore the voices!
We can do this. Come on!
Jesus Christ!
Sarah:
Holy shit!
What the fuck are
you doing, Sarah?
What am I doing? What
the fuck are you doing?
Fuck off with the camera!
Who the fuck
were you talking to?
My hand.
What?
Sarah, I'm sorry,
this is all
I got right now.
I find if I talk with my hand,
it works a bit better, okay?
Ricky, you are
so fucked!
What the fuck's
going on with Jacob?
He's fucked up.
Come in.
(Shallow breathing)
Ricky:
Holy fuck!
Holy Fuck! Okay,
Trin, stay calm.
Grab a fucking knife
or something sharp.
You gotta shove it
right through his eye socket
and make sure it comes
out the other side.
Dad, what the fuck
are you talking about?
He's turned, Trin,
he's turned.
It's too late for
him now, okay?
Have you ever seen
"The Walking Of The Dead"?
It's okay, dude.
Stay calm, everyone.
Stay calm. Okay,
get away from him!
I'm gonna shoot him
through the fucking head!
That's what you've gotta do!
I gotta shoot through
the fucking head.
Bubbles:
Ricky! What are you doing?
Stay back! Stay back!
He'll try to bite you!
Dad, stop!
You can't shoot your
son-in-law in the head!
He's not my fucking
son-of-law anymore.
He's a walker zombley!
He's not gonna eat
my fucking family!
(Theme music)
(Mixed yelling)
If he bites us,
we're all going to
be fucking zomblies.
Get out of the way!
(Yells)
(Mixed yelling)
If we don't shoot him, we're
all gonna fucking die here.
Ricky, give me the fucking
gun! What are you doing?
Give it to me.
(Yells)
He's a zomblie.
Would everybody
calm down, please.
Ricky.
What?
There's no such thing
as zombies, okay?
What the fuck is
that, right there?
Rick!
We've got a lot
of work to do.
Stop fucking around.
Dad, you have to take
him to the hospital.
We've got a bit
of running around to do.
I'll take him
right after that.
No, Dad, now.
Look at him.
He needs to go
to the hospital.
I'm sorry, Julian. I know
we got a lot of stuff to
do but family comes first.
I love my fucking family.
Family?
Who? That?
The guy you were gonna shoot
in the head two seconds ago?
Hi, Julian!
Two seconds ago that
wasn't Jacob in my mind.
We've got to take him.
I don't want to catch
this shit
and the rest of my
family catching it!
Julian, it could be a fucking
crazy squirrel disease.
I bet that's what it is.
Fuck's sakes.
All right. Cory,
get him out of those
sex underwear and
strap him on the roof
with some straps and
top up my brake fluid.
My brakes have been fucking
me around lately, all right?
'kay, dude.
Dad, you're not strapping
him to the roof of the car!
He can ride in the car.
I'm not catching that shit.
Put him in the trunk, then.
He's probably gonna fucking
die anyway.
What? You think
I might die?
Have you looked
at yourself?
Yes, you could
fucking die!
You look fucked!
All right, Cory, you're gonna
go with them to the hospital.
Bubs, let's go to
the nutrients store.
Don't worry. We'll
take care of him.
All right, sweetie?
Good to see you guys.
Ricky, stop fucking around.
Promise?
Bubbles:
He promises, Julian.
I'm fucking sorry,
I thought you were a
fucking zombley.
But why would you
go and do this?
Like, you completely
fucked this day up!
I'm really sorry, Ricky.
I'm not jealous, Randy.
I just care about
you, that's all.
And I don't want
to see you get hurt.
And I'm sorry if
I care about you.
Randy, come on and
get your breakfast.
Double sugar bacon!
Randy:
I'm not eating
that, sir.
I'm off the bacon.
Oh, you're off the bacon?
Since when?
You had two whole
packages on Tuesday.
Randy:
Well, no anymore.
I'm in training.
Where did you
get the shirt?
Ted gave it to me.
He's gonna help train me
and he's going to
pull some strings
to get me into the
police college.
Oh, I see.
Is that all he's gonna
be pulling, Randy?
I don't like this, Randy.
I don't fucking
like this one bit!
Well, I'm doing it, sir.
And, if you care
about me as much
as you say you do,
you'll be supportive
and proud of me.
(Car honk beeping)
If anything crazy
goes down here today,
call me on my
cell for back-up.
For fuck's sakes!
(Dishes clatter)
Ricky:
Is he dead yet?
Cory:
Okay, we made it, dude.
You're gonna be all right.
How do you feel?
Oh, I felt better before
we left but I feel worse now.
(Coughs)
I think it's the exhaust fumes.
Cory:
Oh, man, I'm gonna
get a wheelchair.
It could be the
exhaust fumes
or it could be more
Symp-sons coming on.
If it is the exhaust
fumes, here smoke this.
It'll cancel them out.
Listen, Jacob.
There's something I
want you to know, bud.
I know that you probably
think that I think,
you know, you're...
a fucking idiot,
you're like some
weird insect-y man.
You know, my daughter
married a loser
with no fucking money
and no chance of
keeping a good job
because you're too dumb.
But you know what?
It doesn't even matter
if I did think all that.
I actually think...
(Coughs)
that you're a
pretty good guy.
I actually like you.
Thanks, man.
I think I've may
even been...
starting to love
you a little bit.
Anyway I just wanted
you to know all that
'cause you're probably
not gonna make it.
What?
You think I'm
not gonna make it?
Look at your
fucking hair.
It's just coming
right out, buddy.
You're fucked.
(Panting, wheezing)
Don't worry,
though, buddy.
Come on, we'll
get you inside.
Me and Cory
we're gonna be with
you till the end.
The end?
What do you mean,
the end?
What do you mean,
the end?
(Clanking)
Jesus Christ, Cory!
Why is all this shit
so expensive, man?
Look, that's 80 bucks.
Oh, I know.
I've been buying
it. I know how
expensive it is.
Bubs, stop grabbing
at yourself.
I'm not grabbing
at myself.
I get nervous and my
bird starts doing that.
If it's not at the
right angle, I get
a kink into it.
Why are you nervous?
We're not doing
anything illegal.
Oh, no... Nothing
illegal about growing
400 fucking dope plants
in record time!
Nothing illegal there.
We're buying
fertilizer, man.
Yeah!
Fuck, just relax.
Alrighty, fellas,
I've done some digging here.
I can do pretty much everything
on the old list here, buddy.
Perfect.
Except for the...
Nuclear Bloom,
she's on back order.
What? Isn't that the
most important shit?
How in the fuck
is it on back order?
Last week you had
almost a full barrel.
Yeah, but it's Sonny Ding,
the potato farmer.
Come in and
bought it all.
Sonny Ding from
Eastern Shore?
Yeah... Yeah, he's
only got one upper lip.
No, that's not Sonny.
(Chuckles)
Everybody's only
got one upper lip.
I'm just
fucking with you!
You got me.
So when are you
getting more in?
Oh, you're looking
at two weeks.
Yeah... Slow boat
from China shit.
Fuck's sakes.
Fucking China!
And their slow boats!
I know.
A bit of a
wake-up call, huh?
The police force
is not for everybody.
This is ridiculous.
There's lots of cops
fatter than I am around.
Actually, no there's not.
You're gonna have to lose
at least 50 pounds
if I have any hope
in hell of getting
you into the college.
Frig this.
(Panting)
I'm not losing any
frigging weight.
You gotta figure out
a way to get me into
the frigging college
or George is
gonna see this.
(Video recording on phone)
Ted: Harder.
Randy:
Why isn't it working?
Ted: Oh yeah.
Randy: How's that, Ted?
Ted:
Try harder, Randy,
try harder. Ooohh yeah.
Now take me through the
drive thru at the King.
And you're
frigging paying!
Big fuck-up, Cory.
(Chuckles)
(Indistinct call on P.A.)
Bye-bye.
Err, dude, I think
the horse moves in...
the shape of an R or
letter M or something.
What kind of a fucking
hornse would move in the
shape of letters?
It's a hornse. It goes
wherever the fuck it wants.
Unless it tied up but,
see any ropes here?
It's not tied up.
Fuck, you're dumb
sometimes, Cory.
I'm sorry, dude. Man,
I'm just so freaked out
about Jacob, man.
I don't know what to do.
I know.
Fuck, he's so young.
What a shame.
I know it must be
hard on you.
I mean, you already lost
one idiot best friend
and now you're going
to lose another one.
It's not fair.
Well, I don't he's gonna
die or anything, dude.
I think...
Oh, fuck, I knew it!
He didn't make it.
What?
Are you serious?
Fuck!
Jacob's dead?
No! No, no...
Cory, come here, bud.
We're gonna get
through this, man.
How the fuck am I
going to tell Trin?
(Sobbing)
Fuck's sakes!
Guys, guys,
Jacob's not dead.
He just had an allergic
reaction to dog hair.
But a violent one.
That's it?
He's allergic
to dogs?
Oh, my fuck.
Jacob, you
fucking idiot!
I'm really
sorry, Ricky.
It's, uh, it's not
Jacob's fault.
He has a very strange
element in his blood.
I've not been able
to identify it
but I'm guessing
it's related to his
reaction to the dog.
Now, uh, make sure you
keep this bracelet on.
It's got all your
information on it.
If the condition worsens,
I want you to come back
here immediately.
Okay, thanks, Doctor.
(Phone rings)
Hey, Julian.
Still dealing with
Fuckbrains here.
He's allergic to
dogs apparently.
Ooh, I'm going
to make everyone
think I'm fucking dying!
Yeah. Yeah,
it's right here.
Fuck off!
I'm on the phone.
I forgot where
I was, okay?
Yeah. I know exactly
where that is, man.
I'll be there in
15 minutes. Okay.
Hey, Ricky, can we
stop and get this
prescription filled
on the way back
to the park?
Yeah, we can. On the
way back to the park
but right now we're not going
back to the fucking park.
Get the fuck
out to the car!
You've wasted enough
of today already!
Fucking dog allergy!
What are you going to say
you're dying from next?
Getting stanged
by a fucking bee?
I hope not.
How long are you
going to be this
fucking colour?
You look
ridiculous.
I'm really
sorry, Ricky.
I don't know
what's going on.
What are you doing
going through the
fucking door first?
Jesus Christ!
Sorry!
Thanks, dude.
I can't believe he didn't
have a fucking drop left!
Not a fucking drop, Ricky.
She's all
in there somewhere.
Well, just FIY,
there's no fucking way
we'll grow enough weed in
43 days without that shit.
We're fucked!
Way to go, Jacob!
Sorry, dude.
Jacob, all you have
is a fucking allergy?
Yeah.
Well, kinda.
Doctor said
I had some sort
of unidentified
element in my blood.
Unidentified element?
Okay, boys, there's
nobody around.
It looks like the barrels
are up in that first
outbuilding up there, okay?
Cory, Jacob, I want
you to grab the truck,
go up and grab
the fucking barrel.
You got it.
Whoa, whoa, whoa!
Hang on!
Grab what truck? My truck?
Yeah.
No, no, no. I worked way too
fucking hard for that truck
to let fucking Red ET
and Drewberry Dumb
fucking use the thing.
That's not happening.
Bubs, do you have
insurance?
Yes, I have insurance.
I'm a legit businessman.
Well, circumstances
like this is...
that's why you fucking
have insurance.
Oh, yeah, no, I remember
reading that actually in
the insurance policy.
Paragraph 1: "If you use
your truck to steal something
and it gets fucked over while
the crime is in progress,
you are covered 100%
with zero deductible."
Bubs, if something
get fucked over,
which is not
gonna happen,
we'll just fucking burn the
thing and report it stolen.
You can say
there was tons of
shit in the front,
tons of shit
in the back.
It's a win-win
situation here, man.
And then you can buy
a real fucking truck.
A real t... That is
a fucking real truck!
You know who uses great
big trucks, Julian?
Who drives
around in those?
Guys with little,
tiny wieners.
That's who
drives those.
Oh, wait a second,
don't you have a
ridiculously large
jacked-up fucking
G.I. Joemobile?
Real funny.
Real fucking...
Go fuck yourself!
Look, are we just
gonna say to fuck
with everything?
You know, 'cause I'm quite
happy to go out in the ocean
and fucking fish
lobsters, man.
All right?
It's up to you.
Then maybe we can
hook up at Christmas
time or something.
'Cause I don't
give a fuck!
I know what you're
doing, Julian.
Yeah?
Is it working?
(Sighing)
Fuck off.
All right, give him
those keys. Let's go, boys.
(Sighs)
Here, boys.
Do not fuck
this truck up!
Right on, boys.
(Keys clicking)
Cory, Cory!
That... Come here.
Click that again.
(Clicking)
See the fire
coming out of there?
It's a lighter.
(Soft grunt)
Don't be fucking
with it.
(Clicking continues)
(Long sigh)
If my truck
gets fucked up...
It's not going
to get fucked up.
No, let me finish.
If my truck
gets fucked up,
I'm getting
your truck.
I'm taking it
and I'm selling it.
To somebody else
with a tiny wiener.
(Gunshots)
Ted:
Gentle now, Randy.
Gentle...
Just like that.
(Gunshots)
Ah! Ah!
Jesus!
Fucking Christ!
What the hell are doing?
Well, I've never
frigging fired
one of these
things before!
Come on,
let's just go.
No, I've got to
learn this, Ted.
I suggest you
friggin wrap your
friggin arms around me
and show me
how to hold this.
Unless you want the
guys downtown to know
some of the weird stuff
that you like done to you.
(Gunshots continue)
Come on.
Yeah, yeah,
okay, okay.
Widen your stance.
Straighten your arms.
Also stick your
bum out a little.
Okay... shoot.
(Gunshot)
Ahh!
(Grunts of effort)
(Straining)
Jeez, man!
This is crazy!
It's like, I'm pushing,
I'm pulling,
it's not even locked.
Nothing!
(Grunting)
There we go.
Hey, I knew that.
All right.
No.
(Dull thuds)
No.
No.
Hey, Cory, this one
sounds different.
Listen:
it sounds full...
(Dull thuds)
(Hollow thuds)
...the rest sound empty.
You sure?
Yeah, listen.
(Tapping)
Hear the difference?
Well, what if
this one...
(Hollow thuds)
is full and
that's empty?
(Dull thud)
(Clattering)
See? Full.
Right on, dude,
let's do it.
Ho...ly shit.
(Grunt)
On three.
One...
One, two, three.
(Straining)
Sorry, I didn't
really help.
One, two, three.
Cool.
(Grunt)
Hey, careful.
Okay.
Right.
That's easy, dude.
All right,
just don't drop it.
I'm not saying
there's no such
thing as aliens.
All I'm saying is Jacob
is not a fucking alien.
Ricky, Ricky,
did the doctor say
that Jacob had an
"unidentified element"
in his blood?
That's what he said.
Yeah,
because he's a fucking
alien, Julian.
He's a new species.
He's a Tall Red,
descended from
the Tall Whites,
I guarantee you.
This mean my fucking
grampson's an alien?
Well, he's half.
Mo's not
a fucking alien!
Jacob's not a
fucking alien!
Yeah?
Yeah!
Who have you
ever seen
with four-foot-long
arms, Julian,
that turns red
for no reason?
(Cellphone ringing)
Bubs, he looks
like a fucking alien,
all right?
Ricky's NHL ball hockey camp.
How may I help you?
There's no date
on the poster yet
'cause I haven't
fucking picked one.
'Cause I'm waiting
to see if there's
any interest first.
It says possible
because I can't see
in the future, okay?
They all say
they want to come,
what happens maybe
they're on their way here
and a fucking
earthquake derupts,
it fucking opens up,
swallows the fucking car,
and they're never seen
or heard from again?
It could happen, right?
Then I'd be
a fucking liar.
I'm not a liar.
My poster's not
a fucking liar.
Look, if you're interested,
call me back in a few days.
If you're not, it doesn't
really matter to me,
I don't give a fuck.
Fuck, people are stupid.
Ricky, that had to be
the dumbest conversation
I've ever heard in my life.
But no, you should've
heard what she was saying!
He's a fucking
alien, Julian.
All right, boys...
I'm telling you.
What are you
doing, man?
Hang on, boys!
Why do you always...
Whoo-oo!
Ricky!
Slow the fuck down!
(Cackling)
Ricky, slow
the fuck down!
Aww, fuck! The brakes
ain't working!
(Crash, clattering)
Man:
What the fuck!
Ricky:
Jesus Christ! Fucking Cory!
Julian:
Back it up, Ricky!
Bubbles:
Oh, fucking
nice one, Ricky.
Man: Holy shit!
What the fuck, man!
A nice one.
Fuck's sakes.
Crashed into that
guy's nice truck.
I hope my car's
all right.
What the fuck did
you do to the truck?
It's just
a little scratch.
Fuck!
I got the worst of it,
you fucking dummy.
What?
You heard me.
Take your tiny cock,
get in your truck
and fuck off.
Huh! You got
the worst of it?
(Mirthless chuckle)
Julian:
Gun!
Bubbles:
Jesus Christ!
(Gunshots)
Fuck!
Boys, have I got
to die in Reggie's
junk yard
because of
a fucking power
slide gone wrong?
Can we all put down our guns
and talk like normal
fucking human beings?
(Gunshots)
Oh, shit, dude, man,
you're totally like
my superhero, man.
Like, a real live
superhero, man,
you're my hero!
All red and shit,
lifting the barrel
over your head, man.
You totally did
most of the work.
You know that, right?
I don't
remember, man.
(Awkward chuckle)
I feel like
I'm dying, dude.
Well, that's
just it, man.
It's like, whatever
we put our minds to,
we can do together.
Do you know
what I mean?
Even when we're dying,
we get shit done, man.
Thanks, man.
You know what?
You complete me, man.
Thanks, man.
Hand me off.
Dunk.
Oh, sh...
Careful, man.
Sorry, dude.
Let me get...
Oh, shit, man.
Uh... I think
the barrel's gone.
What, you think
it's gone or it's gone?
Dude, I think
the barrel's gone.
We had a barrel in
the back and the
shit is gone. Look.
Dude, I can't see.
We've got to go
back and get it.
We've got to go
back and get it.
Go, go, go, go...!
(Gunshots, dog barking)
Man:
You got insurance?
Do I look fucking
dumb enough
to buy insurance,
you little shit vacuum?
(Gunshots)
Whoa! Whoa!
Whoa! Whoa!
What the fuck is going on,
you pigeon poking fucks?
You're scaring the shit
out of my cust...
Put the fucking
weapons away!
Hey, Reg.
Reggie:
Moose fuckers!
I fucking slid into
this come gargler's
dicktruck here
and he fucking
lost it on me.
Look at the little
tiny scratch.
Ah, Ricky...
Reggie:
So, Dougie.
Nice.
Here's how this is
going to go down.
You two guys
are going to take
your short, stumpy,
hobbitty asses,
get in this
gigantic truck thing
and get the fuck
off my yard.
Who the fuck are
you calling short,
stubby, and hobbitty,
you long-legged...
arctic-blonde prick?
Go fuck yourself, huh?
No, no, no, I think
it's "go fuck yourself",
you know, 'cause
the universe
is not responsible
for you two dipshits
growing up to be
mouse-diddlers,
are they?
So lose
the fucking attitude
and can we all
just stop shooting
at each other?
Now, you two,
fuck off!
(Quietly)
You fuck off.
Bubbles:
Short guys in big trucks.
There's nothing
fucking worse.
(Engine ignition)
Now what, pray tell,
can I do
for you
turtle jerkers?
Can I just ask
what the fuck
is up with you
and all the
animal sex fucking
references you use?
Well, it's kind
of my thing, dude.
It's cool, man.
Julian :
We need clones.
Lots of them.
Now you have
my attention.
How much is a lot?
300 or 400?
(Laughing)
Yeah, that's good,
Cheech and Chong.
What am I, fucking
Up In fucking Smoke here?
Oh, fuck's sakes,
you can't do it?
Well, now, I
didn't say that,
you porpoise-raping
piece of shit.
I'm Reggie!
Of course I can do it!
Right on!
He's the Reg, boys!
I told ya.
Bubbles:
Yeah, but see,
"porpoise-raping".
Why do you need
to call him that?
It's kind of funny.
I mean,
something in the
ocean probably
does rape them.
Octopusses,
fucking...
Octopusses don't
rape porpoises!
starfish...
How the fuck
could a starfish
rape a porpoise?
Salamanders
probably do.
They don't live
in the ocean, but...
Okay, dude,
minor setback.
Not a big deal, man.
We just get it
up there.
I've seen worse.
It's spilled
a little, but...
Oh, fuck,
it's all over me.
Well, we'll just put
it back in, dude. Look.
It's a good thing
you found it, man.
Hey, I don't remember
it being so white
and sticky and shit.
Let's get it
back on the truck
and get it back
to the park.
(Straining)
Yeah, hoist
it up, dude.
(Straining)
All right.
Ahh, fuck... okay.
You raise your end.
You go first.
Okay, argh...
Yeah, well, put it...
Oh, wait, no...
Okay...
Shit.
(Indistinct muttering,
grunting)
Ugh!
Oh, jeez,
fuck's sakes!
Okay, that's
all right, dude.
Here, do it again.
Okay, up.
(Straining)
Yeah, I got it.
Let's go.
(Both panting)
Oh, perfect, dude.
Okay.
Yeah, man.
Make sure you
strap it down good
this time, eh?
Great idea.
All right.
Bubbles:
There, Dougie,
you take that.
Just feed them
water for now, guys.
We're going to be
over, we'll teach you
exactly the formulas
to use, all right?
She's got two.
There you go.
And remember, the
bigger the plants,
the more money
you're going to make.
That's the last
of 'em. Right on.
This tomato plant
don't look right.
That's 'cause
it's a special, uh,
tomato plant
from Italy.
They grow a lot
bigger there.
Oh, yeah.
It's a special tomato
plant from Jamaica.
Huh?
It's still fucked.
You're fucked.
(Horn honking)
Speaking of fucked.
Cory:
What's up, dudes?
Ricky:
It's about fucking time!
Yo!
Boom! Look at that.
Your fucking brain's
about the size
of fucking tiny little
birds, you know that?
Yo, check it though.
Look.
What the fuck
does that say?
"Power braking fluid".
Power steering fluid!
It eats through
brake lines.
You almost had us
fucking killed,
you idiot!
Ricky.
What?
The nutrient company
change the formula?
When did it start
looking like
vanilla pudding?
What the fuck?
Why is it
that colour?
What the fuck is that?
Bubbles:
Well, Ricky, don't...
That's not it!
What the fuck is that?
Who the fuck is this?
(Door opening, closing)
Fuck!
Who the fuck...?
Man:
Which one
of you cocksuckers
is Jacob?
(Rifle clicking)
There's no fucking
Jacob here there,
flamingo tits!
I found this on the
ground at my farm
and I'm missing a
very valuable barrel.
Julian: Whoopdee shit,
you found something
on the ground.
What the fuck is it?
Hey, dude,
that's your hospital
bracelet, Jacob.
You are the son
of a bitch
that robbed me?
We're not fucking
around here, bud!
Where is it, boy?
Look, none of us
robbed from you, okay?
So get in your truck
and get the fuck
out of our park!
Oh, really, huh?
There it is, Harold.
Load it on the truck.
No, no, no.
You're not fucking
taking that.
We fucking need it.
Oh, we are taking it!
And I'll shoot every
fucking one of you
if I have to!
We'll fucking shoot you
too! I fucking love
shooting people!
Bubbles:
Ricky! Ricky, just wait!
Come on!
Hang the fuck on!
What if we just pay
you for it, okay?
And we'll forget
this ever happened.
Oh no, French guys,
but you don't like
the kind of people
that got 50 grand
lying around.
50 grand? For what?
For that shit?
Well, that's its value
when it's acquired by hand.
It's $280 at the
fucking hydroponics
store, you criminal.
Wait a second.
Hand-acquired?
What the fuck
is this stuff?
Bull semen!
What the fuck did
you think it was?
Bull semen!
(Retching)
Man:
Yeah, it's not just any
ordinary bull semen.
This is grade A,
100% organic,
hand-tossed
liquid fucking gold!
Okay.
(Violent retching)
Look, there's been
a huge mix-up here.
I sent these
two idiots out
to pick up a fucking barrel
of fertilizer in a barn.
They obviously went
to the wrong one
'cause they're dumb.
Ricky:
We had no idea, man.
Just take it
and get it the fuck
out of here, please!
Oh, we're going
to take it out
of here, all right.
Then we're going
to come back
with the cops
and sort this out.
You don't need
to call the cops!
We're giving it
to you back, man.
It's down a couple
of gallons
and these
tired old hands
ain't going to be
able to top it up.
Blisters healed
just a few days ago.
Ricky:
Stop fucking
talking about it!
What if I give you
these guys to jack
off your bulls?
They'll top it up,
we'll be cool.
Uhh, I don't know.
It's, uh...
(Retching continues)
...it's pretty hard
work, you know.
No, no,
they can do it.
They can do it,
believe me.
They've had lots
of experience
in that field.
I'll through a few
crates of lobsters
in there too.
Lobsters, huh?
Crates?
Uh...
Come on, man.
Yeah, well...
yeah, okay.
Oh, yes, I...
Yeah, yeah, okay.
Yeah, we got a deal,
We got a deal.
All right.
Harold,
load the load
of load.
Cory, Jacob,
help him with
the load.
What?
Help him out with
the fucking load.
Ricky, are you
all right?
Ricky! Ricky!
Do not wipe
your lips on me.
How big of a dollop
did you put on
your tongue?
(Groaning)
Oh, my fuck.
Not fucking right now.
What's the commotion here?
None of your fucking
business, Randy.
Julian, what the frig
are you doing here?
You know the rules.
I want you to leave
the park immediately.
Relax, Randy,
I'm just visiting.
Right, Julian.
Just visiting.
Well, you better be.
I'm not afraid
of you anymore,
tough guy!
What the fuck,
Randy?
You've got one
hour, Julian!
Ooooh!
When the fuck did
he start acting so
hard wearing a shirt?
Bubbles:
The same day he started
wearing blue bags.
Fucking cop wannabe.
Barb & Lahey:
(Imitating ducks
quacking, laughing)
Hey, guys!
There's my little man.
Barb:
Hi!
Thank you so much
for looking after him.
Oh!
He's really growing
attached to you guys.
Oh, my gosh,
it's no problem.
We're growing attached
to him. He's so gorgeous!
(Chuckling)
I'm going to
miss you so much
next week
when I'm away,
but I will bring you back
a lovely treat, okay?
Don't worry,
little Mo.
Uncle Jimmy will
still be around
to play with you.
Yes, I will! Mm!
Okay, Mo,
wave bye.
Oh, no, no, no, no.
I'm coming with you.
Come on.
I'm going to get
my little fix of Mo
before I go.
Come on, let's go.
(Chuckling)
See you, Mo.
Say bye.
Say, "Bye,
Uncle Jimmy!"
Randy:
Hey, guys.
Hey, Randy.
Hey, Mo, how's
it going, buddy?
Say hi.
Randy:
Good to see ya.
We've got to take
Julian and Ricky
down, sir.
Julian?
Yeah, he was
just here.
What?
There were two
farmers with guns,
a barrel of something
big and expensive.
Something big
is going down.
You could
talk to Barb,
convince her to
let Julian move
back to the park
and then we could
take them all
down at once.
It's not going
to happen, Randy.
Oh, you get to decide
just like that, do you?
Yeah...
Well, maybe... maybe
I'll decide then
this isn't going
to happen either.
Randy, Randy, Randy,
Randy, come on now.
Just relax, bud.
Okay, we'll talk.
Okay?
Okay.
You go in and
start supper.
I'll clean up.
Thanks for
listening, sir.
(Sigh)
My sexy Julian
back in the park, huh?
This is pretty much
it, Julian.
Everything comes
in there, you know.
Sliced and diced;
puréed and crushed;
over to the spiceland
for my proprietary
blend.
She gets cooked off
in the boiler,
goes in there,
pumped up into
the saucinator,
out into the bottle
and the capping
department.
It's a pretty fucking
streamlined operation.
No, man, it's pretty
fucking impressive.
No, I know.
So, what's the
profit margin
on each fucking jar?
(Sigh)
You see, profit
margin...
You've got to
know that, man.
I know.
And you know
all that stuff
and that's why you
should be living here
at the park with me.
(Sigh)
Just knowing
words like that,
I'd probably
make more money.
I know,
but I can't, okay?
I've got a good
thing going on at
the container, man.
It's peaceful
out there.
There's no stress
on the ocean, man,
it's beautiful.
(Door opening)
Ricky:
Hey, boys.
Hey, Ricky.
Bubs, I need
a little favour.
Coolnow obviously
can't be around
Jacob any more and...
Stop right there, Ricky.
Don't say another word.
You tell Jacob to put
him on a spaceship
and they can fly
up to Jacob's house
at the North Star.
He's not staying here.
Trin and Mo can't
move 'cause of a
fucking puppy dog,
and we can't get
rid of him, Mo loves
the little bastard.
Well, I'm putting my
foot down, Ricky, 100%.
There's two things
that dogs don't
mix with:
kitties and Bubbles.
Oh, like the...
the ones you blow
with bubble gum?
No! Me, Bubbles. Me.
Why didn't you
say "me"?
Because I sometimes
refer to myself in
the third person.
It's a thing I do.
That's confusing.
Anyway, it's only
for a little while.
It's nothing big
deal, right?
One day or so.
He's not staying,
Ricky...
I know.
I've got to say good night
to Mo, hold him
for a minute.
Ricky!
Thanks, buddy.
Love ya.
You're a good friend.
(Heavy sigh)
This is unbelievable.
Look at this now:
bull semen,
fucking dope clones,
shoot-outs,
and now this,
me looking after a fucking
wrangley old mutt.
It looks a hotdog
with hair on it.
Bubs, things got
a little fucky today,
but you've got
to be positive.
How good is it
to have all of us
back together
again, huh?
Huh?
I don't know.
Oh, come on, man.
Scale of one to ten,
how good does it feel?
Come on,
tiddle-iddle-iddle-
iddle-iddle!
Mmm.
Come on.
Mm...
a million billion.
That's how I feel.
Hey, little buddy.
He's fucking cute, man.
He's not cute.
He's got a big,
long nose.
Nobody likes that.
(Lips smacking)
Nobody likes those
cute little ears
and little tongue.
He's fucking cute, man.
I don't care what you say.
(Theme music)
(Seabirds squawking)
Fish:
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck off! Fuck!...
Fuck off! Jesus Christ!
(Whisper)
Fuck.
(Light clicks off)
Fuck off.