Trailer Park Boys (2001–2018): Season 11, Episode 5 - Flight of the Bumblecock - full transcript

Hey, morning,
dick flowers.

About fucking time.

What?
I can't believe
I called you

after the last bullshit
you fucking pulled on us.

Yeah, well, these
things take time.

And that last thing was
a total misunderstanding.

And because I'm
a stand-up guy,
this one's on me.

Minus, of course, some
small fees, charges for...

things that are totally
beyond my control.

Look, you guys are going
to come out on top here

once we sue the sagging,
grey-haired bags



off these bastards.

You're fucking right,
we're suing them.

This is fucking
ridiculous!

Fellas! How'd you
enjoy your stay?

You're a fucking
arsehole, George.

You know that?
You are an actual
fucking arsehole.

You had no right
to keep us in there
for a week.

You had nothing on us!
That's right.

and that's why
we're having a
class action lawsuit

launched against this
entire department,

and that includes
you, Officer Green.

That's Chief Green,
dick breath.

And before you go around
launching lawsuits,

let me remind you
of those old surveillance
photos we have of you.



Remember that?
The tranny crack whore

doing lines
off your dick?

It'd be a real shame if
those things resurfaced

and bit you in the
ass, wouldn't it?

Okay, well,
you guys are out.

My job's done.
Listen, I've got to run.

Uh, I'll send you the bill.
We'll talk soon. Okay?

What? Wha-wha-wha...
Ba-ba-ba-
ba-ba-ba!

Fucking idiot.

Where his truck?

Impound.

But you can drive
it away right now

for the low sum
of $723.

723 bucks
for one week?

Are you kidding me?
No, that's
the cash price.

You know, service
and towing fees,

storage,
unpaid tickets,

departmental
surcharge.
"Cash price"?

When do you fucking
deal with cash,

you greasy bastard?

I'm sure you'll come
up with the money.

Hope so anyway,
because if it's not
picked up by 5:00,

it's going
to the crusher.

Impound lot's full,

so I bumped it up to
the top of the list.

George, you can't do that,
you crooked son of a whore.

(Chuckles)
Can't I?

It's tough being
this powerful.

It really is.

Abso-fucking-lute
power

corrupts
abso-fucking-lutely!

What a shit-encrusted
dick-helmet!

(Theme music)

(Grunting)

(Chuckling)

Trinity:
He really is
good with him.

Yeah, he really is.
I just...

I hope he doesn't
have an ulterior
motive, you know?

Like, he's fucked
us over so many
times in the past,

it's just hard
to get past that.

It's different
now that he's family.

Yeah, but is it?

I wouldn't trust him.

I just want Mo to be
happy, and he is.

It's my decision.

No, no, no, not
fucking happening!

Just 'cause he's
my dad all of a sudden

doesn't mean he's
automatically fucking
related to Mo!

Yeah, Ricky,
that's exactly what
that does mean.

Dad, look...
Family's about fucking being
there for each other,

stepping up to
the fucking plate
when you have to.

This is fucking
bullshit!

Dad, calm down.

Oh, I'm fucking calm.

(Clattering)

Dad, Mo really
likes him.
Fuck!

I want his great-
grandfather to be
a part of his life.

You're just going to
have to get over it.

He's your father,
like it or not.

Not!
(Thud)

For the first few days
after he told me he was my dad,

I just got fucking wasted.
I had to get it out of my head.

But the booze wasn't working.

Like, I think it
made me more depressed.

So I just put my energy
into working at the rink

and the plants,
and just ignored him.

I'm not sure how
to come to terms with it

but I've got to
fucking deal with it.

I've got to stay calm.

(Squirrel chirps)

Seriously? Right now?

What a fucking
smug little prick.

Listen to him laughing at
my burnt out fucking trailer.

Fucking little asshole!
(Squirrel keeps chirping)

(Clicking)
You think this is funny?

Your fucking traps
are working really well, Randy,

you stupid fucking dummy!
Fuck off!

And you fuck off too.

(Distant gunshots)
Ricky. Frigging idiot.

Man: (shouting)
Fuck off with
the fucking guns!

Jesus fucking Christ!

What the frig
do you want?

You know, I'm sorry
for what happened.

Those guys really
screwed you over.

But maybe, once this
blows over for a bit,

you can try again.

Now I did everything
in my power to help you.

I held up my end
of the bargain.

So now I want
the video back.
That was the deal.

Not a chance.

Remember all those times
you were taking forever

and you said,
"Randy, try harder"?

Well, I'm going to say
the same frigging thing
to you right now.

Ted, try harder!

Randy,

you might want to think
really carefully

about what
you're doing here.

I'm not scared of you,
Ted, or your tiny penis.

Are you sure?

I'm going to give you today
to think it through.

Don't make me take this
to the next level.

Bubbles:
This might be the
dumbest fucking thing

you've ever done,
actually, Julian.

You know what?
I want to go home.
Just take me home.

Bubs, it's fine.
They didn't even
have fucking cameras

in the parking lot, man.

How do you know
if they had cameras
in the parking lot?

Because cops don't
think people would be
fucking crazy enough

to steal a fucking car
in their parking lot, man.

That's why they leave
their keys in the ignition.

They're stupid.

We're not going
to go home.

We need to make
some fucking money.

Check the glove box,
see if there's anything
in there worth selling.

Don't boss me around.

(Mocking tone)
"Don't boss me around."

Some golf passes
here, cart included.
You see, there you go.

That's 100 bucks
right there.

Jesus Murphy.

Whose truck did
we take? Ron Jeremy's?

Jesus.
Well, why's that
in the glove box?

Just put that away.

Here's the registration.

Oh, my blistering fuck!

It's George Green's
truck, Julian!

Oh, my God,
we've got to dump it!

We've got to dump it!
Let's... pull over here!
No, no, no...

Fuck that.
We need to sell it.

Sell it?

Who in the fuck's
going to buy a hot truck

that belongs to
the chief of police?

Think about that!

So what the fuck is up,
poppy suckers?

What's up, Reg?
Just looking to unload

this fucking
thing fast, man.

Yeah, oh, yeah.
Yeah, yeah.

Is it hot?

Umm... it's, you know...

I don't think I have
the paperwork. It...
Julian,

it's a little hotter
than that, I'd say.

Ehhh... how hot?

It's... it's not cold.

It might as well be
sitting on the surface
of the fucking sun!

Ah-ha...
Yeah, it's great.

Ah, well, I could
use it for scrap.

Give you 200 bucks for it.

200 bucks! Come on, man.

Look, we need 723 bucks

or the cops are going to
crush his little fucking truck.

No shit. You're dealing
with those fucking
weasel-fuckers, huh?

Dougie Dixon? That
guy's a piece of shit.

No, George Green.

Oh, he's a cocksucker
too, slimy little fucker.

That's it? 200 bucks?

It's all I can
do for you, bro.

Now, if you guys could
find me some steel,

I can move that shit

quicker than a hooker
going down on a billy goat.

That makes no sense!

(Growling)

All right, whatever
the fuck you are to me,

we need to get some things
straight right now, okay?

Apparently you can
hang out with Mo.

That's my
daughter's decision.

But when it comes to me and
you, we don't fucking talk!

Don't say a fucking
word to me!

Don't even look at me

unless I say it's
okay to look at me

and I don't ever see
that fucking happening!

Got it?
Sure, Rick.

Good.
Whatever it takes.

But listen...

I just want
you to know,

that there were
a lot of reasons

why I was the way
I was over the years.

I don't give a fuck!

Rick, you have no idea

how much
I wrestled with this.

A secret this big?

Not knowing how
to deal with it.

Why do you think I turned
to the liquor so often?

So I made you a
fucking alcoholic?

Is that what
you're saying to me?
No, no, no.

No, it was... a lot
of fucking things.

But that's all
changed now, Ricky.

Because of...
this little guy...

I finally have
a reason to stay off
the liquor for good.

Ricky, I know...

that, when I was
on the liquor,
I was delusional.

I was out of control.
Yeah!

But I'm never going back.

Little Mo saved
my life, Ricky.

Yeah, he's...

pretty fucking
special, isn't he?

I'm sorry, Ricky.

I'm sorry for everything.

I was wrong not to tell
you all these years.

(Shaky breath)
Are you crying?

No, I...
Look, I...

I know after all
that's happened,

it's probably impossible

for you to believe
or... even understand.

I've always
loved you, Ricky.

(Shaky voice)
Don't fucking cry.

(Sobbing)

It just makes no sense,
everything you did to me.

I thought it was for
your own good, Ricky.

But I was wrong.

Both:
(Sobbing)

Julian:
Hey!

What the fuck is
going on here?

Why are you guys
crying? Who died?

Nobody fucking
got dead, Bubs.

Well what, then?

Baste yourselves, boys.

Jim Lahey...

is my father.

The real one.
What?

Oh, they smashed
up Coconut Ronda.

Fuck. I'm telling
you, man,

don't let that fucking
nightmare Lahey into
your life, man.

He's always got
another angle.

I told you. I don't want
to fucking talk about it.

I'm trying to block
it the fuck out

so I can concentrate
on everything else.

That's probably
a good idea, Ricky.

Yeah, well,
being that said,

where's the
nutrients, boys?

Why?

For the fucking plants.

What?
Ricky, the plants
are alive?

Of course the fucking
plants are alive.
I hid them at the rink.

But they're thirsty
boys. Where the fuck
is the Nuclear Bloom?

Ricky, the Nuclear Bloom
is on the back of my
fucking truck

at the impound, about to
get crushed to smithereens.

Yeah, we need
523 bucks.

Reggie said to acquire
some steel and he'd
buy it off us.

We've just got
to figure out where to
get some fucking steel.

Steel?
(Chuckles)

That's fucking easy.

I know where we can
get all the fucking
steel that we need.

(Grunting)
Fuck off!

It's kind of fucked that
we're stealing steel, boys,

when you think about it.
What?

Well, steel's the only
thing you could steal

that it's itself, right?

Ricky, what the fuck
are you talking about?

Are you okay, Ricky?
Yeah, I'm just
saying, you know,

if we weren't stealing steel,
we'd be stealing something
that wasn't steel.

So stealing steel's
kind of like...

It's a stealing steel...

For fuck's sakes, this
isn't fucking working!

What's wrong?

I asked my fucking
brain nicely to shut
the fuck up

but no matter what I
distract-ulate it with,

it gets blurting things
out about fucking Lahey!

Ohh, my brain's a fucking
asshole sometimes, boys.

I don't know how to
come to terms with this.

Like, it's bad enough
Lahey's going to be my
fucking dad, I guess,

but, if he marries Randy,
Randy's going to
be my fucking uncle.

Think about that one.

That's not exactly
accurate, Ricky.

What? He's going
to be what, then?
My cousint?

Hmmm...
Oh, my fucking God.

Oh, my fucking God.

Randy is going to be
my fucking brother?

No.
Hmmm...

Actually he'd be
your stepfather, man.

Or stepmother,
depending on how they
file the paperwork.

Could be your
stepmother.

No, fuck!
(Sigh)

You know what, boys?
I can't deal with this.
Fuck it!

I'm moving to Toronto
and becoming
a street person.

No, Ricky.
This is fucked!

Ricky, just wait. Listen.

Look, Lahey might be
your father but he'll
never be your dad.

Well, it's the same
fucking thing.
What do you mean?

It's not the
same thing, Ricky.

Look, Lahey, technically
he did father you,

therefore he
is your "father"

but Ray...

Ray's the one that
loved you, Ricky.

He loved you
and he raised you

and he taught you
everything that you know.

He did.
He turned you into Ricky.

He was my father...
You are Ricky
because of Ray

and that's what
a dad does, Ricky.

You were pretty fucking
lucky to have such
an awesome one, man.

Thanks, boys.

I fucking
love you guys.

I love you too, Ricky.
Who's got that belly?

Yip!
Let's go fucking
steal some shit!

Or steal some steel!
(Wheezing laugh)

See, it is fucking
cool, isn't it?
It's funny.

See the way I brought
that back around
like a professional.

That's what Gerry Dee
would have done.

Hey, Ran.

I brought you a
triple triple, bud.

What's the matter?

I can't marry you, sir.

What? Why?

If I marry you, then
Ricky becomes my stepson.

And any inkling of a chance

that I had of becoming
a cop is gone forever.

Randy, don't
be ridiculous.

Being a cop isn't
as glamorous as
it looks, Randy.

Trust me.

Oh, well, I wasn't
doing it for the glamour.

I was doing it for you.

I wanted you to be proud
of your new wife.

Now look at me.

Sitting here
getting wasted,

crying in my frigging
cheeseburgers.

All I've ever wanted
was for you to be
proud of me, Mr. Lahey,

and to respect me.

Randy,

I respect you
in this moment

more than I've ever
respected you in my life.

Now you know
what it's like

to be driven to
drink by the boys.

I love you, Randy,

and I want to marry you
now more than ever.

What do you say, bud?

Do you mean that,
Mr. Lahey?

If you'll have me.

I'll drink a toast
to it, Randers.

What do you got?
You can't drink,
Mr. Lahey.

It's only wine, Randy.

I can handle
a little bit of wine.

And you know
what it's like...

when I drink
the wine, bud.

I sure do.

It's time to
get paid, boys.

Thank fuck.

(Police siren chirps)

Oh, fuck, the cops.

All right, pull over and
get us out of this, man.

Fuck. I don't know
if I can, boys.

What? What
do you mean?

I'm not in the right
frames of the mind.

What the fuck are you
talking about, man?
You can do this!

No. No, I can't.
(Engine revving)

Ricky!
Jesus Christ, Ricky!

What the fuck
are you doing?

We can't outrun
them in this,

especially with
750 fucking pounds
in the trunk.

My fucking brain's got
too many thinks going on!

I can't think my
thocks straight!

Oh, my fuck!
We're out of jail
less than two hours

and we're going
right the fuck back.

We're not going
back to jail.

Oh, really?
Why wouldn't
we, Julian?

We're in a high-speed
fucking chase,

stolen city property,

no goddamn plates,
no insurance,
no registration.

Oh, we're fucked!
(Whimpers)

Here, Ricky,
take that.

You can do this, man.
We believe in you.

You just need
to be focused.

Maybe if I chug the
fucking thing, I guess.

Chug it.
Now, that's it, Ricky.

There you go. Chug it!

Bubbles & Julian:
Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!

Chug! Chug! Chug!

That's it, Ricky.
Come on!
Go, man. Keep it going.

Let your brain just
start working it out.

Let that dope smoke
figure it out.

Chug it, Ricky! Chug!

Okay, boys.
We're good.

We're good?
Good? You've
got something?

I got this.
Oh, thank fuck.

We believe in you, man.

Ricky:
You guys are going to
fucking love this one.

Stop right there,
hands where
I can see them!

Hands up, fuck-tits!
Put your hands where
I can see them!

Shut the fuck up, you
idiot! I'm a fucking cop!

What?
Yeah, man.

Think I like wearing
my fucking hair like this?

Do you think I like wearing
these fucking clothes?

My wife's making me stay
at the fucking Ramada.

I've been working with
fucking Chief Green

for three months trying
to take these guys down.

Three fucking months!

You just blew my
fucking cover.

What? You're working
with Chief Green?

Yeah, fuck-brains.
Officer Trevor Cory,
deep undercover.

See the two guys
in the car there?

Two of the highest-ranking
members of Satan's Bastards.
Who?

Satan's Bastards,
the fucking motorcycle
gang out of Cape Breton.

You're a fucking cop
and you don't know who
Satan's Bastards are?

Jesus Christ. George
has been trying to take
them down for three months

and you may have just
wrecked the whole fucking
operation, you idiot!

What? I didn't know.

It's all right but when
George finds out about this,
he's going to fucking freak.

His fucking truck
was stolen from the
precinct today.

He's not in a good
fucking mood as it is.

I heard about that.
Oh, my fuck.

I hate to say it, bud,

you're probably going
to lose your badge
over this one.

Oh, for fuck's sakes,
I just got the thing.

No, no, no! Keep
pointing that at me.
We're not fucked yet.

Stay with me here.

Can you please
not tell George

that I fucked
this up, big time?

Well, I don't
want to ruin your
career obviously.

Fuck! Fuck! Cock! fuck!

All right, all right.
What's your fucking name?

It's Gordon.
Okay, Gordon,
stay with me here, bud.

We're okay.
We can do this, okay?

But the two guys
in the car right now,

they're going to be
very, very fucking
suspicious of me.

We'll have to do
something a little
fucked to get this back.

You have any weed
or hash on you?

Yeah, I have
about 20 grams

that I confiscated from
the high school earlier.

Okay, that's
fucking great.
Where is it?

Right front pocket.
Oh, my God, that's
fucking perfect.

In a few seconds,
I'm going to come at you.

We need to struggle.
It has to look fucking real.

I'm going to take your
gun, point it at you.

You have to handcuff
yourself to your
fucking car.

You got it?

I think so.
Okay, I'm coming
at you, Gordon.

You can fucking
do this, bud.
Stay with me. Okay?

Are you ready?
Are you good?

Here I come!
Here I come! Okay.

Take out your
handcuffs right now

and handcuff yourself to
that fucking car, dummy!

Do it, come on!
Move along here!

What the fuck?

(Whispering)
Go on, fucking hurry
up here, Jesus Christ.

What the fuck are
you trying to do?

Hand-cuff myself
like you said.

Well, you should have
used the steering wheel

or something, you
fucking dummy!
Fuck!

Holy fuck, is
that Moroccan?
Yeah.

I'll give this to those
guys as a peace offering

and hopefully it chills
them the fuck out.

And I'm going to tell
fucking Chief Green

you saved the fucking
day today, Gordon.

Thank you,
Officer Cory.
Good job.

I appreciate that.
Right, take care
of yourself.

Ricky, how the fuck
did you do that?

That was unbelievable.
I know.

I may have to chug
joints more often, man.

That was some of
my best work ever.

Incredible, man. That
was fucking incredible.

Here, Bubs, do
you want a gun?
Ahhh! Jesus!

What?
Just put it
down. Let's go.

Here, have some
hash. Chill
the fuck out.

That was fun.
(Engine ignition)

That's Moroccan!

(Engine shuts off)

Well, well, well.

If it isn't the
Right Honourable Ricky
the Slug Fucker.

To what do I owe
this dubious honour?

What are you,
tonguing my shaft there,
you tiger tonguer?

Fucker. How are you
two horse jerkers?

What...
It wasn't a horse.

Ricky: I've got some great
shit for you, brother.
Check it out.

Manhole covers, ten
of the fucking things.

(Clinking)
Looking good.

Give you 100
bucks for them.

100 bucks? You gotta be
fucking kidding me, man.

We used to make more
than that for them in
fucking elementary school.

Well, it ain't frankincense
and fucking myrrh.

They're manhole covers.

That's the price
of steel. 100 bucks.

Fuck. This is just
fucking great, Julian.

Great plan. Now what
are we going to do?

My truck's going
to get crushed.

Did you
crush George's
truck yet?

Maybe we can sell
it on fucking Kijiji
or something.

Oh, no, I crushed
the living shit out
of that thing but, uh,

you know, I did something
under the front seat

that you boys are going
to want to take a look at.

I think you might
be able to use this.

Jesus Christ!

What the fuck?

Holy fuck!

Ted:
Hey, where do you
think you're going...

Julian:
I'm not here to
talk to you, Ted...

Hey...
Ricky: Get the fuck out of the
way there, cock-burger!

You guys can't
just walk in here.

Oh, I think we
actually can, Georgie.

We want Bubbles'
truck back.

Ricky:
And we want you to stop
fucking with us forever.

(Sigh)
So you're here to
nail me, are you?

You're fucking
rights I am.

Ricky:
Let's go with the keys,
you deep-fried shit-log!

I've got to admit you
guys are pretty good.

I think you got
me this time.

You take a great
picture there, George.

A calendar we did,
to raise money for
breast cancer.

Big hit down at the
flea market, too.

Raised a ton of cash.

What else have
you got, tough guy?
For fuck's sakes.

Look, George, that's a
really nice thing you did
there for a great cause.

But can I just have my
fucking truck back, please?

I didn't do anything
wrong and you know it.

I saved up the money
forever to get that truck

and I need it
for my business.

Okay, Bubbles,
I'll tell you what.

I'll give you
the truck back.

One condition.

You return my truck
to my parking space,

your truck
is free to go.

I didn't take
your truck, though.

Probably not...

but I'm guessing
you know who did.

No idea what you're
talking about, George.

You know what? I don't
even give a fuck the
truck was stolen.

Come on. Get in here,
shut the door.

Thing is, being
chief of police,

the insurance companies
tend not to question claims.

So...

New set of golf clubs,
brand new set of skis,

a couple of really
nice vintage guitars,

top-of-the-line
hockey gear. All gone.

Bubbles:
Come on, George, this
is fucking bullshit

and you know it.
Just give me the
truck back.

I'll sweeten the deal.

I don't even want
the thing back.

I just want
someone in this room

to admit they took it.
That's it. You can walk away.

So, if somebody in
this room right here,

admitted they
took the truck,

there'd be no consequences
and we could get my truck?

Fuck. If I stole the
fucking thing, I would
tell you. But I didn't!

Heh, okay. Ted, can you
get the fuck in here
a minute, please?

Yeah, chief?

Could you escort these
gentlemen out of the building?

And when you're done that,

get the vehicles
slated crushed over
to Dixon's junkyard.

And...

make sure you tell
him to crush them...

extra small.

(Whimpering)
Extra small.
Come on, buddy.

My poor little truck's
going to be extra small.

Just like the size of
both of your cocks.
Come on, come on.

Dicks!

(Joyful sigh)

This is fucking
bullshit, Julian.

You could have
fucking saved that.

What the fuck was I
supposed to do, huh?

You know he would have
fucked us over anyway.

Think about it.
He might not have.

Look, we'll try
to get you another
truck somehow, okay?

Oh, yeah, we'll get
you another one.
No big deal.

Boys, the fucking truck
is the least of our
fucking worries right now.

If we don't get back
the Nuclear Bloom,
I can tell you this:

There is no
fucking possible way

to grow that much dope
in time. We're fucked!

Hey, Julian.

What?

I could easily make sure
that truck never gets
down to Dixon's

if you were to, uh,
do me a little favour.

What the fuck is it?

(Piano music)
(Lahey singing)

What the fuck is
going on in there?

That's
"Flight of the Bumblebee".

(Whispering)
Let's go.

(Singing continues)

Oh my fuck!
Oh my sweet Jesus!

Ricky:
Jesus fucking Christ!

What the fuck is
wrong with you two?

Huh?
What can I do
for you, Julian?

Look, there's a
certain sexual video

that Randy's been using
to blackmail somebody

and we're not leaving
here without it.

We want it right
the fuck now!

What's he talking
about, Randy?

I don't know what you're
talking about, Bubbles.

Lahey:
Eh... Talking about
a sexual video

that you're blackmailing
somebody with, Randy. Who?

(Chuckling)
Holy shit...

You don't know, do you?

Randy, I suggest
you hand over
the fucking video

or I'm going to explain
every little detail to
your fucking fiancé here.

Randy!
Where is it?

It's on my phone.

So my father's a bee
and he's a flower?

He's a flower,
Ricky, and a bee

and there's probably
some kind of a pollination
thing going on here.

...stinger cock...

Did you make any
copies of this?

I'm not smart enough
for that, Julian.

Fucking idiot.
All right, let's go.

Fuck boys, I hope this
doesn't run in the family.

No. No, you should
be okay, Ricky.

Should be all right.

Next time please knock.

Randy, I want to know
what's on that videotape

or the engagement's off.

What?
Well...

What, Randy?

So honey comes
from a bee's cock?

No, Ricky.
Ricky.

(Happy grunts)
...this, buddy.

There she is.
(Giggling)

How did you make out?
We got it.

Did you get rid of
the dash-cam footage
of us from earlier?

All done.
Nice.

So, we have
a deal, then.

Mmmm...
I don't know.

Julian, what the
fuck are you doing?
Give him the video.

Bubs, this deal's
kind of unfair, man.

No, it isn't unfair.
It's perfectly fair!

Give him the sex video
and let's get my truck.

This video's worth
a fuck of a lot more

than that
shitty truck, man.

Watch your mouth.

(Sighs)

What's the story
on the Caddy?

Is that being crushed?
No.

It's going to auction.

Really?

Okay, boys.
Gotta do this quick.

I've got to get back
to feed Coolnow.

You know, so he's
not fucking with
my kitties, I mean.

You now what, I've been
thinking about it, Bubs.

It wasn't fair of me to
dump him on you like that.

So I'm going to find
a new home for him
tomorrow. All right?

No, Ricky, no.
It's okay.

I mean, he's not that
big of a nuisance.

I'll keep looking after
the little fucker

just 'cause Mo loves him.

Oh, fuck!

(Groans)
Fuck...
What?

I don't know what's going
on with my nuts, boys,

they seem to be getting
worse not better.

There's an awful fucking
stink coming off them too.

Jesus Christ,
what kind of a stink, Ricky?

They're probably
fucking infected.
I don't know.

I haven't had time
to deal with them.

It's not easy to see.
It takes some fucking
planning.

How much of this shit are
we going to need right now?

All of it.
All of it?

Yeah.
How many fucking
plants are in there?

Come take a look.

Ah, fuck...

Julian:
What are you doing, Ricky?

Are you going to turn on
some fucking lights?

Holy fuck!

My fuck, Ricky. When you
said you were hiding the
plants at the rink,

I didn't think you
meant like this.

This isn't really
hiding anything.
Yes, it is.

It's hiding them from
the people outside,
like out in the world.

This is...

it's fucking
amazing, man.

Are you sure there's
enough plants to fill
the order, though?

Ricky:
Oh, yeah, big time. I did
all the calculations myself.

Uh-oh.
What?

Well, no offense,
Ricky,

but you stopped going
to math in Grade 6.

It's not really math,
fucking 30,000 bottles,

one gram per bottle
is 30,000 grams,

454 grams in a pound,
we need about 66 pounds

about a quarter pound
per plant, 264 plants.

And we're going to
grow 350 just to be safe.

Holy fuck, Ricky,
that was unbelievable!
What?

Well, that's how you should
have been doing math
calculations your whole life.

You should have
been treating
everything like a...

like a weed
calculation.

I never really
thought about that.

We should be good, boys.

And after everything
we've been through,

what the fuck else
could possibly go wrong?

Really?
Oh...

Ricky, why would
you say that?

That's exactly what the
people in the movies say,

right before everything
does go to shit.

I really need my family.
Two days, promise.

Yeah, sure.

You're a good
granddaughter, Trin.

(Theme music)

(Seabirds squawking)

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

Fuck off! Jesus Christ!

(Whisper)
Fuck.

(Light clicks off)
Fuck off.