Trailer Park Boys (2001–2018): Season 11, Episode 9 - Episode #11.9 - full transcript
Don't you think
we should at least check
on Lahey and Randy?
I mean, bring them
some food,
maybe some water?
Fuck that, man.
They'll be fine.
We'll let them
sweat it out a bit,
the fucking assholes.
Snoop's guy's here.
Right on.
(Loud muffled hip hop)
Hopefully he's not a dick.
Bubbles:
Hopefully he's not
deaf, Jesus Murphy!
Keep it down on
the volume, guys.
(Louder hip hop)
Waddup, man?
That's one hell
of an Uber, cuz!
Waddup?
Sammy OG, Snoop's guy.
Bubbles.
Ricky, my man.
How are ya?
Nice mothafuckin'
piece, cuz.
Yeah, man.
Mmm!
Is that the shit
right here, cuz?
Yeah, man.
Will those fucking
boxes work or what?
Work? They work,
mothafucker!
They perfect! Mmm!
Beautiful!
(Fingers snapping)
Mmm, mmm, mmm.
Listen, the boat'll
be here
tomorrow
mothafuckin'
morning.
Get this mothafuckin'
deal done!
Yeah!
But right now,
my trailer park
nizzles,
we about to have a
mothafuckin' tizzle.
A toast,
mothafucker.
I love this shit.
Bubbles:
About that nizzle
tizzle toast...
Tizzle toast.
One for you.
One for you.
Oh, here,
just wait.
I don't need one.
I can't drink that.
That'll knock me
right on my arse.
Ain't that the
whole fuckin' point?
Yeah, come on,
Bubs.
It's a pretty
fucking special
occasion here, bud.
Ricky, I don't succumb
to peer pressure.
I don't need this.
Ricky:
What kind of fucking
peer pressure?
Just do it,
you fucking pussy!
Yeah, come on.
I'm doing one, man.
Don't be a pussy.
Do it, Bubs!
Do it!
This is what
peer pressure is,
right here!
What is?
We're not...
Just fucking do it!
Just fucking do it,
Bubs. Come on!
Oh, my God!
All right!
L'Chaim,
motherfucker!
Cheers.
Fuck's sakes...
(Gibberish)
Well I guess there's
one more thing to do.
What's that?
Get more fucked up!
(Laughing)
More fucked up
that what this is
going to fuck us up?
Hell yeah! Snoop said
y'all are just as
crazy as he is.
Well, surprise...
So am I!
Right the fuck
on, man!
We should get over
to the T Box.
Tyrone and the Rocpile
got the bus over there,
that'll hotbox
the balls right off you!
It's fucking
killer!
Oh, shit!
Let's do that shit
right now, cuz.
Fucking right!
Oh, my God,
those guys...
Cory:
Dudes?
What?
You need to come in
and see this right now.
See what?
Fuck, is Jacob
turning red again?
Who's the mothafucker
in the tank top?
He's Cory.
He's not that smart.
A'ight.
Ricky:
What did you fucking diddle
dummies fuck up this time?
Newscaster: (On TV)
The trailer appears to belong
to ex-cop turned
notorious alcoholic...
Oh my sweet fuck.
Jim Lahey...
Bubbles:
Ricky!
...supervisor of the
Sunnyvale Trailer Park,
who went missing yesterday
with his co-worker
and fiancé.
(Snort)
Eyewitnesses report seeing
two bodies in the water
that eventually sank.
(Giggling)
Police say they have strong
leads on possible suspects...
(Chuckling)
...and the investigation
continues.
For Channel 10
Breaking News...
Oh my God.
...I'm Steve
"No Nonsense" Rogers.
My fuck, boys,
we killed
Lahey and Randy!
(Theme music)
So how do you like LA,
dude? I bet I'd like LA.
Bubbles:
Jesus, Ricky!
Cory, what are you doing?
Get your hand down.
Get back to work, man.
We've got to get this done.
Hey, what's with
all the cameras, cuz?
They're just documenting
our lives, man.
It's all good.
Don't worry about it.
Oh, fuck, Ricky!
Oh, okay. I'm out,
dudes, see you later!
Bubbles:
Oh my God, this is it, boys!
Hey, where you guys
off to in such a rush?
Ricky:
We're not off to any place, man.
What's up, guys?
Oh, I think you
know what's up.
I'm going to need
you to come downtown
to answer a few
questions about
the disappearance
and possible murder
of Jim and Randy.
(Chuckling)
You know anything
about that?
No. No idea what
you're talking about.
You got any
evidence?
Yeah, actually,
we do.
Oh.
That's why I need all
of you to come downtown.
(Chuckles)
You too.
So we can do this
the easy way
or we can do it
the hard way.
Your choice.
Yo, what are
you talking about,
evidence, Officer?
(Chuckling)
Against me?
I got to town,
like, an hour ago.
Okay, you need
to calm down!
Calm down?
The fuck, LAPD
McLoving-looking
mothafucka!
I'm calm. I'm
as calm as fuck.
Okay, down
on the ground,
down on the ground!
(Indistinct sputtering)
On the ground.
On the...
I know the drill,
all right? Hey...
Jesus Murphy!
He was being calm!
He wasn't
doing anything!
Hey! What the hell
is wrong with you
mothafuckas?
Officer:
Mother-what?
Mothafuckas!
You called us
mother-what?
Yeah! Oh, I'm sorry.
Okay, everybody,
hands behind
your backs.
Oh, this is bullshit!
Okay, just...
Ricky! Ricky! Just...
Cuff 'em!
Cuff him!
Okay, everybody.
Just calm down.
Ricky:
Fuck!
Oh, this is
a beautiful
day, Julian.
Julian:
Guys, they got nothing on us,
don't fucking worry about this.
Bubbles:
(Whimpering)
You can stop
twisting my wrist...
Ricky:
This is absolutely fucking
ridiculous! You guys are...
(Whispering)
I told you the liquor
would tell us what to do!
We did it, bud!
(Kissing)
Okay, what
do we do next?
The liquor's
brilliant, sir.
It sure is,
Randilly-bar.
That's what
I've been fucking
trying to tell you!
(Engine starting)
On to Plan B, bud.
Won't that be Phase Two,
though, Mr. Lahey?
I mean, busting
them for the weed
is the next step
but it's all
still part
of the same plan,
isn't it?
Yeah, absolutely
right, Randy.
It's Phase Two.
Wait. What if
someone sees us,
though, Mr. Lahey?
If anyone knows
we're alive,
it all falls apart!
You're right,
you're right.
We need to liquor-think
this through, Ran.
What was that?
It wants to
talk to you, Ran.
Disguises.
Ta-da!
Now it's on to Plan B.
God, Ricky, what was
in that fucking stuff?
Every time I think
I'm getting
my faculties back,
I get hit with another
wave of this shit!
(Chuckling)
I know, it's
really floaty.
Isn't it fucking
awesome?
It's not awesome!
It's freaking me
the fuck out!
Come on, Bubbles,
get it together.
Get it together...
I smell a huge
fucking lawsuit
for this pile of
hamster fucking shit!
You got fuck all on us!
Yeah and they got
fuck all on me.
This is fucking
ridiculous!
Hillbilly
backward bitches.
Fuck...
(Chuckling)
Oh fuck,
look who it is!
It's Harvey Hightell
from the fucking Bad
Sheriff movie!
You can't fucking
keep us here
with no evidence,
George,
you fucking prick!
Yeah, mothafucka.
I want the fuck
out of here, cuz,
or we gonna have
a serious problem,
you dig?
Or I'm going to
let Snoop's lawyer
on your mothafuckin'
ass. You dig?
Hm! None
of you guys
are going anywhere.
You really
fucked up this time.
You want
evidence?
We found this inside
a liquor bottle
floating in
Lahey's trailer.
According to what's
written here,
Jim and Randy found
out about a drug deal
you were doing.
So you all
shrink-wrapped them
in their trailer
and pushed them
into the water
to die a slow, terrifying
death by drowning.
And what the fuck
does that got to
do with me, cuz?
Please tell me!
Oh, letter says that
Snoop was sending
Sammy Og to
do the deal.
I'm guessing
that would be you.
That's Sammy OG, Original
Gangsta. Get it right!
George:
Ah, whatever.
I knew you guys were
stupid. But murder?
(Snort)
Oh, Julian...
Are you going to
grant us permission
to search your trailer
or do I have to go through
all the bullshit
of getting
a warrant?
What the fuck do
you think, George?
(Chuckling)
Dumb question.
Dumb question? This
is a dumb situation!
What the fuck!
And why the fuck
would you tell
him about me, man?
Man, we didn't
say shit!
We're not
that fucked.
Then who did?
Just a second,
Ricky.
Why are your
fucking eyes darting
back and forth
a million miles
an hour?
They're not!
Well, I was trying
to see, like,
everything around
me all at once.
Oh, like a
fucking chameleon?
What?
Look at them.
Look at them, Julian.
What the fuck,
Ricky? No, you
didn't, man.
Fuck!
That fucking day
I went golfing
with him,
I thought
he was my dad.
I may or may
have told him
Snoop was sending
Sammy to do the deal
and we were going to
make a lot of money.
Fuck!
What the...
I should kill you
right now!
Why the fuck would
you tell him that?
Are you fucking
dumb? Hmm? Are
you a fucking dope?
I'm not dumb.
I didn't tell him
you were going
to fucking help us
to kill someone.
Oh!
Fuck...
Boys...
We might never
get out of here.
(Bells jingling)
Congratulations,
Raggedy Ran.
You finally made it
on to the force, bud.
Hey! You
look wonderful
in that fucking
costume!
I don't know,
Mr. Lahey.
I thought the point
of all this
was not to
get recognized.
Oh, well, it is.
But when you think
about it,
we are
basically cops.
Right, Randers?
Well, yeah,
pretty much.
Yeah, and...
sometimes the best
place to hide
is right out
in the open.
Right.
You know what
they say, Randers.
Sometimes
what you see
is not always
what you get.
Frig, Mr. Lahey.
I don't know.
Randy,
the liquor is
telling us what to do.
We got to fucking
listen to it!
What?
Time to take it up
a notch, Ayn Randers.
Why the fuck does
this always happen?
All I wanted to do was run
a simple fucking
pizza sauce company.
You got me involved
in a fucking massive
drug deal at sea
and now I'm in jail
on suspicion of murder.
Oh my God!
(Whimpering)
Sammy OG:
Calm down. Hell, cuz.
(Plopping)
I've charged with way
bigger stuff many times
and I ain't even
tripping, cuz.
(Sniffing)
Ooh, you stink!
Look, things are going
to work themselves out.
Goddamn...
Steinberg:
Hello, boys.
Thank fuck.
Now I've got
some good news
and some bad news.
They've officially
charged you but...
they've agreed to
let you out on bail.
Yes!
Ba ba ba ba ba ba!
Not just yet.
It's not going
to be cheap.
It's attempted murder
and some other shit.
You better hope to
God they don't find
those bodies.
How much are
we talking?
It's going
to be 10 grand.
10 grand! Oh, my fuck!
We're doomed!
Hey, don't worry.
I got this. 10 Gs...
Ba ba ba ba ba ba!
That's each.
40 fucking grand?
Yeah.
I'm gonna shit myself!
I'm gonna shit myself!
That's just
to make bail.
Now look, I've...
I'm waiving every
possible fee on my end,
you know. But
the law is the law.
I know 40 K
is a lot.
We got it, okay?
We'll get it
on the other end.
Don't worry, you'll
get it back anyhow.
Snoop'll be cool.
You got it?
Got it, man.
Yeah, well,
I figured there was, uh,
probably some
kind of deal
at play here.
And I'm assuming
that there's
something somewhere
you don't want
anyone to find?
Various:
Yeah.
In my trailer
and the back
of his truck.
You've got to
get a hold of
Cory and Jacob
and tell them
to get all of the
fucking garbage bags
and lobster boxes
out of there
immediately.
Okay?
Okay. I can
do that.
Now they're filing
for a search warrant
but, you know, I might
be able to delay it
for a couple
hours, you know,
for a small fee...
Do it. Okay?
Just do it.
Ba ba ba ba ba ba!
Oh... okay. Great!
Wow, check this out,
boys. Holy fuck!
What the f...?
Why does it
look like that?
Jesus Murphy...
Ricky!
(Flushing)
That's my life
right there.
Down the drain!
Hey.
Just relax, Randy.
See? No one's
the wiser, bud.
Wow...
It feels good,
doesn't it?
It feels great,
Mr. Lahey.
We're really
doing it.
Yeah, we really...
We should have did it
years ago, Randy!
Look, as soon as
we get the money,
I'm going to call Ted,
tell him about the dope.
They'll have
enough evidence
to lock up
those shitiots
for fucking
shiternity, Randy!
I wonder how much
first class tickets are.
Some of the planes
even have beds on them.
Yeah, that's the
mile high club, Ran.
Mile high club!
The mile high club.
Mile high club.
The mile...
Goddamn shit
soldiers, Randy!
They must be moving it
to a new shit nest
for the queen
of shit himself!
Yeah, okay, I'll be
in touch with you guys
about the
extra charges.
Ricky:
Steinberg, think
you can you give us
a lift back to the park?
Oh, Jesus.
I wish I could
but, with the
extra weight, well,
I think I'd need
some gas money.
Gas money?
Goddamn,
you one greasy
mothafucka, ain't you?
Yeah, you know,
that'll probably be
the end of my shocks
too, realistically.
So, uh...
We're not paying
for your fucking
shocks!
Everybody get in.
I call shotgun.
Fuck it.
I call shotgun.
What are you
talking about?
I just called it.
I'm not going in
the mothafuckin'
back!
Are you crazy, cuz?
Julian:
I'm not getting in the
back fucking seat, okay?
I paid for the
fucking gas money.
Sammy:
You know, fuck
it, all right?
Fuck it, just fuck it.
I'll give you 50 bucks
to go in
the back seat.
Have you
got change?
No.
I'll get
in the back.
Hurry up, man.
Get in.
Bubbles:
Ricky, don't pile...
You fucking live
in this thing?
Bubbles:
Ricky, I've already
got fucking oil on me.
Come on in, guys.
Ricky:
This is fucked! We can't fit...
Skooch over, man.
Lots of room, plenty of room.
Julian:
Skooch over! Fuck!
Someone take this.
Jesus Murphy.
Julian:
Oh, for fuck... I can't,
I'm not in, boys.
Ricky:
Ah, fuck me!
Come on, cuz.
Move the fuck over!
Ricky:
Holy fuck, boys!
There's a fucking
pair of pliers
going in my ribs!
Okay, now
watch the leather,
watch the leather.
Various:
Watch my foot! Oh, shit!
The leather,
mothafucka?
This ain't
mothafuckin'
leather.
It's real leather.
Why the fuck you
got rubbers, cuz?
Yeah, I might need
that for the subway.
Okay, listen, everybody
got their seatbelts on?
Ricky:
Just fucking drive!
(Engine choking)
Dammit, you guys had
the doors open so long
you drained
the battery.
How the fuck have
you got cockroaches
in this bitch?
Julian:
Fuck this! Everybody
out! Everybody out!
Yeah, abort!
Abort!
(Groaning)
Jesus Christ!
Jesus Murphy...
Steinberg, let's
go with my money.
Oh, fine....
Lobster shells in there!
Have you got my
mothafuckin' money?
Well, this is weird.
I don't even know
how this is possible.
I think I lost it.
How crazy is that?
Goddamn,
mothafucka!
You fucking ruthless,
you know that?
Next time Snoop's in trouble,
I'm giving
your ass a call.
Hell yeah.
Call me any time.
Yo, T. We need you
to pick us up.
Jail.
There's no way
that a snake
could beat you
in a fist fight
because it doesn't
have fists.
So I don't understand
why anyone loses to
a snake.
(Siren wailing)
But if if curls up in a
ball, couldn't it, like,
really give you
a good shot that way?
Yeah, sure, but it has
to have an arm to be on
in order to swing it.
(Siren continues)
Dude, dude.
What?
Cops behind us, man.
Oh, shit! Well, we
just... Just let them
go by. Just go...
(Siren wailing)
Oh, fuck,
what do we do, man?
I don't know, dude.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
Oh, fuck! Oh man.
They're trying to pull
us over, dude. Oh shit.
Lahey:
Get the fuck
over there,
you fucking asshole!
Okay, okay, okay...
Cory:
Don't say
anything, dude.
I'll do the talking.
I'll do the talking.
(Siren stops)
Cory:
All right. Uh, uh... Shit.
Fuck's sakes.
(Laughing)
Jack-pot!
Hey, d'you get it?
I sure do,
Mr. Lahey.
Because it's pot.
Fucking jack-pot!
Good one.
We're in liquor
synchronicity.
(Laughing)
Hey!
You're not dead!
Awesome!
We thought you guys
were the real cops.
Why are you guys
dressed like that?
Where did you
get the car?
Enough of the
fucking small
talk, boys!
Where's the
fucking money,
you stupid little
shit pissants?
What fucking money?
Don't... touch me.
What fucking
money?
The money that
Snoop Dogg paid
for all this
fucking dope!
What do you think
I am? Stupid, Cory?
Well, obviously
you are stupid
because it's not
even dope that
anyone is buying
if they were buying
anything at all.
Uh, they're not
buying anything.
Okay. You want to
fucking play tough,
Mr. fucking
tough guys?
Get your fucking
cocksuckers in my car!
Get the fuck in
the car right now!
You're under arrest
for burglary!
Get in!
Cory:
Stop throwing the
gun around, dude.
Hop in, Ranbers!
Cory:
What are you doing?
(Engine starts)
Jacob:
You guys are cra...
What are you doing?
You know, you can't
leave that shit there.
(Remote phone ringing)
Julian:
Come on, boys.
Answer the
fucking phone!
Cory: (On phone)
Yo, what's up, dude?
Holy fuck! Where the
fuck are you guys?
Cory:
I'm just fucking with you.
You've reached Cory
and Jacob's phone.
We can't come to
the phone right now,
so leave us a message! Rawr!
Nice message,
assholes.
Where the fuck
are you guys at?
I need to talk
to you. Call me.
It's urgent!
Fuck,
they're dumb.
Maybe
they're not.
They sure made
you look stupid.
That was pretty
brilliance,
I must say.
Julian, just call
my phone.
I'm pretty sure
it's in my truck.
Maybe, if they hear
that ringing,
they'll answer it.
Don't get tricked again,
though, Julian.
Bubbles might have
a trick message
just like Cory
and Jacob.
Ricky, I'm sitting
right here.
Even if I did, like,
how would that
be a trick?
It might be, though.
Think about that one.
Bubbles: (On phone)
Hi, you've reached
Bubbles' Scrumpdilly
Organico Sauce Company,
pizza division. Please
leave a message...
Fuck!
Maybe the cops
got them too.
Did you ever
think of that?
Like, they could be
getting questioned
as we speak.
Man, they might
be dumb but they're
not fucking dicks.
They'd never
rat us out.
Don't worry about it.
Not on purpose
maybe.
(Electricity sizzling)
Lahey:
Time to start talking, boys,
or I'll send goddamn
110 shit amps
through your shitty
little bodies!
What's Snoop
and his guys buying
if it isn't
the weed?
I don't know,
I don't know!
(Whimpering)
(Sizzling)
How did that
feel, Cory?
Keep lying,
I dare you!
I'll do anything,
whatever you want.
Don't ask
for that.
No, dude, don't tell
him about the De-energy!
Ricky will
fucking be pissed!
De-energy?
Fuck.
It's okay, dude.
They don't know
what it is
and there's no way
they can ever find out
about where the
deal's happening on
the ocean tomorrow
because we don't
even know. So...
Five Hour
De-energy!
Ricky makes it
out of weed.
Of course,
Mr. Lahey!
Is that
what it is?
Is that what Snoop's
boys are buying
on the ocean
tomorrow?
You better tell me
where Ricky keeps
his stash,
you shit-glazed
shit!
(Screaming)
(Buzzing)
Does it hurt, Cory?
Fuck yeah!
(Indistinct)
(Buzzing)
(Screaming)
Ah... it hurts!
Enough!
Stop shocking him.
You can shock me instead.
Ah! No, I changed
my mind!
Don't shock me
instead, please...
Cory, we can keep
doing this all day
or you can
just tell me
where Ricky
keeps the goods.
(Buzzing)
(Screaming)
Hey, stop it!
It's on Bubbles'
truck!
Leave him
alone, fuck!
It's on
Bubbles' truck?
(Whimpering)
Oh. Well, that's a
shocking development.
Have a nice
day, boys.
Give me that...
(Muffled music)
I need a blunt!
Motherfuckers,
your prisons
are like preschool.
Know what I mean?
Good luck, T!
Oh, my fucking gosh.
They seized our shit.
What the fucking...
Jules!
You better fix this shit
right fucking now!
I'm working on it.
(Remote phone ringing)
They must not
have found the weed
or you'd be back
in fucking jail.
Bubbles:
Yeah, but the fact
that the truck's gone,
Cory and Jacob must
have came through.
Try calling
my phone again.
What do you think
I'm fucking doing?
No. It went
to voice mail.
But it was
ringing?
Yes, it was ringing.
Okay, well that
means the fucking
thing's on, then.
That's a
good sign.
Pull up the
Find My Phone app.
Do you have that?
The what?
Find My Phone
app, yeah,
I got that shit
right here, cuz.
I lose this bitch
all the time.
All right.
It's gonna cost
you, all right?
Yeah. Okay, just wait.
You just call
someone up and they
find your phone?
No, Ricky, look.
I punch in my number
and it should tell
us where it is.
Okay, look.
Here it is.
They're out on
Doodle-puller Road.
Why the fuck
would they be
way out there?
Oh, fuck! I bet
they pulled over
so Jacob could shit
and the fucking bears
or cougars got them.
Bears and
cougars... what?
They're fucking
probably dead again!
Ricky, what are
you talking about?
Cory: Dudes!
Ricky:
Poor fuckers.
Julian:
What the fuck
happened to you guys?
Randy and Lahey
are alive!
They held us
captive!
They shocked us
with a wire.
They're fucking
crazy.
So what did
you tell them?
They tortured us!
Look at my nips!
Not much, dude.
We just told them
that the deal
was going down
tomorrow
and you're actually
only selling
De-energizer,
not weed.
Oh, what?
So they've got
the truck with all
the shit on it?
No.
Thank fuck.
Well, dude,
they know where
it is, though.
And I'm pretty sure
they're on their
way there now.
Oh my fuck, you guys
are dumb! Fuck!
You're one dumb
piece of shit,
you know that?
Ugh!
Julian:
All right, let's
go! Come on!
Ricky:
Fuck's sakes!
(Indistinct)
...very nice.
Ricky:
Fucking unlock me! Fuck!
(Car doors slamming)
(Engine starting)
(Engine revving)
Hey!
What about us?
Okay, boys.
It's just up here
about a
fucking mile.
Right on.
It looks like.
I can see it.
Just wait
a second,
it looks like
it's fucking moving.
What?
It is moving!
It's coming
right towards us.
Jesus Christ,
Lahey beat us to it!
Oh, fuck!
No he didn't!
The fucking cops got it!
He must have
fucking called them.
We're fucked, boys!
No, I'm fucked!
That's my truck!
Hey! Hey, hey!
What? What?
Turn the car around
right now, cuz!
What?
What do you mean,
turn it around?
What do you mean,
what do I mean?
I ain't leaving here
without my shit!
I ain't a mothafuckin'
mathematician
but there's
two of them
and one, two,
three, four of us,
motherfuckers!
What the fuck are
you talking about?
Seriously?
Yeah, man.
What the fuck?
This is about to be a
hommo case up in this bitch
if you don't turn
this mothafuckin'
car around!
Okay, Julian,
turn the fucking
car around!
Sammy, you best get
that fucking gun
out of my neck,
motherfucker!
Or what?
Bubbles:
Julian, set your drink
down and use your muscles!
Julian:
Let me fucking do it, man!
Sammy:
What the fuck?
You're giving me
mothafuckin' whiplash!
Julian:
Settle the fuck down.
Bubbles:
Ricky, why don't
you hold his drink
so the man can use both his...
Julian:
Just get your hands
off my fucking drink!
All right, cuz,
...faster.
There you go.
Passing up...
Sammy:
All right, cut him off.
Bubbles:
Julian, don't do this.
Sammy:
Cut him off!
I'm cutting him off!
I'm cutting him off!
Fast and the
Furious! Come on!
Bubbles:
For fuck's sakes, Julian!
Ricky:
This is fucked!
Oh, my fuck.
Now what?
All right, listen,
it's like you've seen
in the movies, cuz.
We goin' to get
out of this car
and we goin' to
unload on them
mothafuckas.
You feel me?
What? Unload?
We can't fucking
unload on them!
They're cops,
boys! Please,
come on, Julian,
this is getting
too crazy!
Lahey: (On megaphone)
Exit the vehicle please,
with your hands in the air!
Was that
fucking Lahey?
Who the fuck
is Lahey,
mothafucka?
He's a drunk,
crazy, fucking
deranged lunatic,
who used
to be a cop.
It fucking
sounded like him.
Lahey:
Come on, Shitulian!
Against the car!
Come on, spread
that beautiful frame.
This mothafucka
know you?
Jesus Christ.
It's definitely
him.
"Spread your
beautiful frame"?
What the fuck?
I want you all to
put your hands up.
Randy:
You guys almost killed us!
The jig is up.
You're going
to pay up, boys.
Hey! You better
put that gun away,
mothafucka!
Right now.
One, two, three.
There you go.
Do you want me
to pop a cap
in your mothafuckin'
ass, boy?
What?
You want some lead
in your head? Huh?
Yeah!
Yeah?
Yeah!
What?
Okay!
Okay?
I don't
fucking care!
Put a fucking
cack in my head!
Cack?
Go on, do it!
Fucking put me out of
my misery, bud!
Oh, Mr. Lahey!
Do it!
Don't! I love you,
Mr. Lahey.
Why?
Look, frig all
this stuff!
Let's just...
We don't have
to fly to Ireland
and get married.
Let's just
walk away.
Lahey:
I'm sorry, Randy.
Ireland?
You're right, bud.
I'm out of control.
Excuse me.
I got so fucked
over losing Mo
and I spent half
my fucking life
trying to love
this dumb fucking
shit-covered shit-log
and he's not even
my fucking son!
Thank fuck!
I don't want to
take it any more.
Go ahead.
Anyway...
none of this matters
any more, boys.
You know why?
Because we're fucked!
Take a look at that.
Various:
Oh, fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
Lahey:
Yeah, that's a little bit...
(Siren honking)
...of a sweet
shit-tasting
irony, isn't it?
Fuck! I'm not going
to mothafuckin' jail,
cuz! Fuck this!
Put the gun away!
Put the fucking gun away!
Put the fucking gun away!
We're not
fucking getting
in a gunfight
with the cops!
Okay, listen! Listen.
Lahey?
Yeah?
We've all be through
a lot here, okay?
Right.
If I can somehow get us
all out of this shit,
you have to promise to
leave us the fuck alone.
Don't tell the cops
about the deal.
We'll get it done
and everything at
the trailer park
will go back to
fucking normal.
You have our word.
Right, boys?
Various:
Yes, yeah.
How does that
sound, Mr. Lahey?
I just want
to be together.
I'd rather not
be in jail.
All right... okay.
Beautiful.
Thank fuck,
it's Ted Johnson,
the second dumbest
cop on the force.
Well, look who's
alive after all!
Nice outfits.
New car, Jim?
Nice beard.
Both of them.
So this is where
you've been, eh?
Busy buying costumes
and stealing
police cars.
That's a really
nice suit you
got there, bud.
Fucking... it must
be really expensive.
I'm impressed.
Well, Ted, thank fuck
you're here, man.
Crazy fucking
morning, man!
We were on our way
down to the wharf
and a guy
flagged us down
who was driving
this police car here
and he said he was
an undercover cop.
Ted:
Okay?
Well, of course
we pulled over.
We like helping the police
whenever we can.
Anyway, he said
he ran out of gas
and he had two of
Satan's Bastards
in the car.
It was really fishy.
Like, he was really
super fucking nervous.
So I looked in the car
and quickly realized
it was fucking Lahey and
Randy in the back seat.
They were tied up.
Right.
I was, like, "Bud,
you are full of shit.
You're not an
undercover cop."
I fucking freaked out
and then I think
he knew what
was going on,
so he panicked
and fucking ran
through the
tall grass here
and jumped
in the water.
The last I saw of him
he was half-way across
the land there, swimming.
It was fucking crazy, man.
Like, you're going
to have to go
after the
fucking guy.
Wow, that is
pretty crazy.
Yeah!
It's quite a story.
Yeah.
Now, Jim.
Hm?
Do you want to tell
me what's really
going on here?
Yeah, well, Ricky told
you the absolute truth.
If it wasn't
for these guys,
Randy and I,
we'd be fucking
dead by now, Ted.
Right.
Right...
And you fucking
police dummies
made them go
through hell.
Hm!
Instead of being out
looking for them,
you accuse us
of fucking
murdering them.
You better drop
those charges
and give us back
our fucking money!
Just shut up,
Ricky.
I will for a second.
That's it.
Shut up!
Fuck off!
And Jim...
Hm?
What about that letter
that you wrote?
The one we found
in your camper.
You know?
Yeah, you were
telling us about that.
It was the
kidnappers, was it?
Oh! The fucking
kidnapper!
He forced me
to do it at
gunpoint, Ted!
Fucking heavy
duty shit.
You guys are all
so full of shit!
I have to shit...
But you know
what? No.
I don't even
care any more.
Now I've got
a police matter
that I have
to deal with.
It's a real one.
So, Randy,
in order
to make sure
that the paperwork
on this
is filed properly,
I'll have to
see you later.
Actually,
we both will.
For frig's sakes.
Ricky:
For what?
Ted:
You take my car.
I'll grab the cruiser
that these idiots stole.
And the next time...
(Engine starts)
any of you people
even get
as much as
a parking ticket,
I'm going to throw
your ass in jail
so fast it'll make
your heads spin!
You got that?
Absolutely.
Yep.
I don't live here
but sure, cuz.
Good.
Fuck, my eyes
are really dry.
I don't know what
the fuck's going
on there.
Keys are in
the ignition, Ted!
Mothafucka!
You was one slick
Rick mothafucka!
I fuck with your shit!
Real good!
You should be
on my mothafuckin'
payroll, cuz. I got you!
Thank God
cops are dumb.
That was a way
fucking better
plan than you had.
"Let's blast
everybody!"
That's all I know.
Randy:
Thanks for keeping us
out of jail, Ricky.
Okay, boys!
What's next
on the agenda?
This is what's next.
Julian, what
are you doing?
Julian!
I thought
we had a deal!
There is no deal.
Get the fuck
in my trunk.
(Gun click)
Ricky:
(Chuckling)
(Theme music)
(Seabirds squawking)
Fish:
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck off! Fuck!...
Fuck off! Jesus Christ!
(Whisper)
Fuck.
(Light clicks off)
Fuck off.
we should at least check
on Lahey and Randy?
I mean, bring them
some food,
maybe some water?
Fuck that, man.
They'll be fine.
We'll let them
sweat it out a bit,
the fucking assholes.
Snoop's guy's here.
Right on.
(Loud muffled hip hop)
Hopefully he's not a dick.
Bubbles:
Hopefully he's not
deaf, Jesus Murphy!
Keep it down on
the volume, guys.
(Louder hip hop)
Waddup, man?
That's one hell
of an Uber, cuz!
Waddup?
Sammy OG, Snoop's guy.
Bubbles.
Ricky, my man.
How are ya?
Nice mothafuckin'
piece, cuz.
Yeah, man.
Mmm!
Is that the shit
right here, cuz?
Yeah, man.
Will those fucking
boxes work or what?
Work? They work,
mothafucker!
They perfect! Mmm!
Beautiful!
(Fingers snapping)
Mmm, mmm, mmm.
Listen, the boat'll
be here
tomorrow
mothafuckin'
morning.
Get this mothafuckin'
deal done!
Yeah!
But right now,
my trailer park
nizzles,
we about to have a
mothafuckin' tizzle.
A toast,
mothafucker.
I love this shit.
Bubbles:
About that nizzle
tizzle toast...
Tizzle toast.
One for you.
One for you.
Oh, here,
just wait.
I don't need one.
I can't drink that.
That'll knock me
right on my arse.
Ain't that the
whole fuckin' point?
Yeah, come on,
Bubs.
It's a pretty
fucking special
occasion here, bud.
Ricky, I don't succumb
to peer pressure.
I don't need this.
Ricky:
What kind of fucking
peer pressure?
Just do it,
you fucking pussy!
Yeah, come on.
I'm doing one, man.
Don't be a pussy.
Do it, Bubs!
Do it!
This is what
peer pressure is,
right here!
What is?
We're not...
Just fucking do it!
Just fucking do it,
Bubs. Come on!
Oh, my God!
All right!
L'Chaim,
motherfucker!
Cheers.
Fuck's sakes...
(Gibberish)
Well I guess there's
one more thing to do.
What's that?
Get more fucked up!
(Laughing)
More fucked up
that what this is
going to fuck us up?
Hell yeah! Snoop said
y'all are just as
crazy as he is.
Well, surprise...
So am I!
Right the fuck
on, man!
We should get over
to the T Box.
Tyrone and the Rocpile
got the bus over there,
that'll hotbox
the balls right off you!
It's fucking
killer!
Oh, shit!
Let's do that shit
right now, cuz.
Fucking right!
Oh, my God,
those guys...
Cory:
Dudes?
What?
You need to come in
and see this right now.
See what?
Fuck, is Jacob
turning red again?
Who's the mothafucker
in the tank top?
He's Cory.
He's not that smart.
A'ight.
Ricky:
What did you fucking diddle
dummies fuck up this time?
Newscaster: (On TV)
The trailer appears to belong
to ex-cop turned
notorious alcoholic...
Oh my sweet fuck.
Jim Lahey...
Bubbles:
Ricky!
...supervisor of the
Sunnyvale Trailer Park,
who went missing yesterday
with his co-worker
and fiancé.
(Snort)
Eyewitnesses report seeing
two bodies in the water
that eventually sank.
(Giggling)
Police say they have strong
leads on possible suspects...
(Chuckling)
...and the investigation
continues.
For Channel 10
Breaking News...
Oh my God.
...I'm Steve
"No Nonsense" Rogers.
My fuck, boys,
we killed
Lahey and Randy!
(Theme music)
So how do you like LA,
dude? I bet I'd like LA.
Bubbles:
Jesus, Ricky!
Cory, what are you doing?
Get your hand down.
Get back to work, man.
We've got to get this done.
Hey, what's with
all the cameras, cuz?
They're just documenting
our lives, man.
It's all good.
Don't worry about it.
Oh, fuck, Ricky!
Oh, okay. I'm out,
dudes, see you later!
Bubbles:
Oh my God, this is it, boys!
Hey, where you guys
off to in such a rush?
Ricky:
We're not off to any place, man.
What's up, guys?
Oh, I think you
know what's up.
I'm going to need
you to come downtown
to answer a few
questions about
the disappearance
and possible murder
of Jim and Randy.
(Chuckling)
You know anything
about that?
No. No idea what
you're talking about.
You got any
evidence?
Yeah, actually,
we do.
Oh.
That's why I need all
of you to come downtown.
(Chuckles)
You too.
So we can do this
the easy way
or we can do it
the hard way.
Your choice.
Yo, what are
you talking about,
evidence, Officer?
(Chuckling)
Against me?
I got to town,
like, an hour ago.
Okay, you need
to calm down!
Calm down?
The fuck, LAPD
McLoving-looking
mothafucka!
I'm calm. I'm
as calm as fuck.
Okay, down
on the ground,
down on the ground!
(Indistinct sputtering)
On the ground.
On the...
I know the drill,
all right? Hey...
Jesus Murphy!
He was being calm!
He wasn't
doing anything!
Hey! What the hell
is wrong with you
mothafuckas?
Officer:
Mother-what?
Mothafuckas!
You called us
mother-what?
Yeah! Oh, I'm sorry.
Okay, everybody,
hands behind
your backs.
Oh, this is bullshit!
Okay, just...
Ricky! Ricky! Just...
Cuff 'em!
Cuff him!
Okay, everybody.
Just calm down.
Ricky:
Fuck!
Oh, this is
a beautiful
day, Julian.
Julian:
Guys, they got nothing on us,
don't fucking worry about this.
Bubbles:
(Whimpering)
You can stop
twisting my wrist...
Ricky:
This is absolutely fucking
ridiculous! You guys are...
(Whispering)
I told you the liquor
would tell us what to do!
We did it, bud!
(Kissing)
Okay, what
do we do next?
The liquor's
brilliant, sir.
It sure is,
Randilly-bar.
That's what
I've been fucking
trying to tell you!
(Engine starting)
On to Plan B, bud.
Won't that be Phase Two,
though, Mr. Lahey?
I mean, busting
them for the weed
is the next step
but it's all
still part
of the same plan,
isn't it?
Yeah, absolutely
right, Randy.
It's Phase Two.
Wait. What if
someone sees us,
though, Mr. Lahey?
If anyone knows
we're alive,
it all falls apart!
You're right,
you're right.
We need to liquor-think
this through, Ran.
What was that?
It wants to
talk to you, Ran.
Disguises.
Ta-da!
Now it's on to Plan B.
God, Ricky, what was
in that fucking stuff?
Every time I think
I'm getting
my faculties back,
I get hit with another
wave of this shit!
(Chuckling)
I know, it's
really floaty.
Isn't it fucking
awesome?
It's not awesome!
It's freaking me
the fuck out!
Come on, Bubbles,
get it together.
Get it together...
I smell a huge
fucking lawsuit
for this pile of
hamster fucking shit!
You got fuck all on us!
Yeah and they got
fuck all on me.
This is fucking
ridiculous!
Hillbilly
backward bitches.
Fuck...
(Chuckling)
Oh fuck,
look who it is!
It's Harvey Hightell
from the fucking Bad
Sheriff movie!
You can't fucking
keep us here
with no evidence,
George,
you fucking prick!
Yeah, mothafucka.
I want the fuck
out of here, cuz,
or we gonna have
a serious problem,
you dig?
Or I'm going to
let Snoop's lawyer
on your mothafuckin'
ass. You dig?
Hm! None
of you guys
are going anywhere.
You really
fucked up this time.
You want
evidence?
We found this inside
a liquor bottle
floating in
Lahey's trailer.
According to what's
written here,
Jim and Randy found
out about a drug deal
you were doing.
So you all
shrink-wrapped them
in their trailer
and pushed them
into the water
to die a slow, terrifying
death by drowning.
And what the fuck
does that got to
do with me, cuz?
Please tell me!
Oh, letter says that
Snoop was sending
Sammy Og to
do the deal.
I'm guessing
that would be you.
That's Sammy OG, Original
Gangsta. Get it right!
George:
Ah, whatever.
I knew you guys were
stupid. But murder?
(Snort)
Oh, Julian...
Are you going to
grant us permission
to search your trailer
or do I have to go through
all the bullshit
of getting
a warrant?
What the fuck do
you think, George?
(Chuckling)
Dumb question.
Dumb question? This
is a dumb situation!
What the fuck!
And why the fuck
would you tell
him about me, man?
Man, we didn't
say shit!
We're not
that fucked.
Then who did?
Just a second,
Ricky.
Why are your
fucking eyes darting
back and forth
a million miles
an hour?
They're not!
Well, I was trying
to see, like,
everything around
me all at once.
Oh, like a
fucking chameleon?
What?
Look at them.
Look at them, Julian.
What the fuck,
Ricky? No, you
didn't, man.
Fuck!
That fucking day
I went golfing
with him,
I thought
he was my dad.
I may or may
have told him
Snoop was sending
Sammy to do the deal
and we were going to
make a lot of money.
Fuck!
What the...
I should kill you
right now!
Why the fuck would
you tell him that?
Are you fucking
dumb? Hmm? Are
you a fucking dope?
I'm not dumb.
I didn't tell him
you were going
to fucking help us
to kill someone.
Oh!
Fuck...
Boys...
We might never
get out of here.
(Bells jingling)
Congratulations,
Raggedy Ran.
You finally made it
on to the force, bud.
Hey! You
look wonderful
in that fucking
costume!
I don't know,
Mr. Lahey.
I thought the point
of all this
was not to
get recognized.
Oh, well, it is.
But when you think
about it,
we are
basically cops.
Right, Randers?
Well, yeah,
pretty much.
Yeah, and...
sometimes the best
place to hide
is right out
in the open.
Right.
You know what
they say, Randers.
Sometimes
what you see
is not always
what you get.
Frig, Mr. Lahey.
I don't know.
Randy,
the liquor is
telling us what to do.
We got to fucking
listen to it!
What?
Time to take it up
a notch, Ayn Randers.
Why the fuck does
this always happen?
All I wanted to do was run
a simple fucking
pizza sauce company.
You got me involved
in a fucking massive
drug deal at sea
and now I'm in jail
on suspicion of murder.
Oh my God!
(Whimpering)
Sammy OG:
Calm down. Hell, cuz.
(Plopping)
I've charged with way
bigger stuff many times
and I ain't even
tripping, cuz.
(Sniffing)
Ooh, you stink!
Look, things are going
to work themselves out.
Goddamn...
Steinberg:
Hello, boys.
Thank fuck.
Now I've got
some good news
and some bad news.
They've officially
charged you but...
they've agreed to
let you out on bail.
Yes!
Ba ba ba ba ba ba!
Not just yet.
It's not going
to be cheap.
It's attempted murder
and some other shit.
You better hope to
God they don't find
those bodies.
How much are
we talking?
It's going
to be 10 grand.
10 grand! Oh, my fuck!
We're doomed!
Hey, don't worry.
I got this. 10 Gs...
Ba ba ba ba ba ba!
That's each.
40 fucking grand?
Yeah.
I'm gonna shit myself!
I'm gonna shit myself!
That's just
to make bail.
Now look, I've...
I'm waiving every
possible fee on my end,
you know. But
the law is the law.
I know 40 K
is a lot.
We got it, okay?
We'll get it
on the other end.
Don't worry, you'll
get it back anyhow.
Snoop'll be cool.
You got it?
Got it, man.
Yeah, well,
I figured there was, uh,
probably some
kind of deal
at play here.
And I'm assuming
that there's
something somewhere
you don't want
anyone to find?
Various:
Yeah.
In my trailer
and the back
of his truck.
You've got to
get a hold of
Cory and Jacob
and tell them
to get all of the
fucking garbage bags
and lobster boxes
out of there
immediately.
Okay?
Okay. I can
do that.
Now they're filing
for a search warrant
but, you know, I might
be able to delay it
for a couple
hours, you know,
for a small fee...
Do it. Okay?
Just do it.
Ba ba ba ba ba ba!
Oh... okay. Great!
Wow, check this out,
boys. Holy fuck!
What the f...?
Why does it
look like that?
Jesus Murphy...
Ricky!
(Flushing)
That's my life
right there.
Down the drain!
Hey.
Just relax, Randy.
See? No one's
the wiser, bud.
Wow...
It feels good,
doesn't it?
It feels great,
Mr. Lahey.
We're really
doing it.
Yeah, we really...
We should have did it
years ago, Randy!
Look, as soon as
we get the money,
I'm going to call Ted,
tell him about the dope.
They'll have
enough evidence
to lock up
those shitiots
for fucking
shiternity, Randy!
I wonder how much
first class tickets are.
Some of the planes
even have beds on them.
Yeah, that's the
mile high club, Ran.
Mile high club!
The mile high club.
Mile high club.
The mile...
Goddamn shit
soldiers, Randy!
They must be moving it
to a new shit nest
for the queen
of shit himself!
Yeah, okay, I'll be
in touch with you guys
about the
extra charges.
Ricky:
Steinberg, think
you can you give us
a lift back to the park?
Oh, Jesus.
I wish I could
but, with the
extra weight, well,
I think I'd need
some gas money.
Gas money?
Goddamn,
you one greasy
mothafucka, ain't you?
Yeah, you know,
that'll probably be
the end of my shocks
too, realistically.
So, uh...
We're not paying
for your fucking
shocks!
Everybody get in.
I call shotgun.
Fuck it.
I call shotgun.
What are you
talking about?
I just called it.
I'm not going in
the mothafuckin'
back!
Are you crazy, cuz?
Julian:
I'm not getting in the
back fucking seat, okay?
I paid for the
fucking gas money.
Sammy:
You know, fuck
it, all right?
Fuck it, just fuck it.
I'll give you 50 bucks
to go in
the back seat.
Have you
got change?
No.
I'll get
in the back.
Hurry up, man.
Get in.
Bubbles:
Ricky, don't pile...
You fucking live
in this thing?
Bubbles:
Ricky, I've already
got fucking oil on me.
Come on in, guys.
Ricky:
This is fucked! We can't fit...
Skooch over, man.
Lots of room, plenty of room.
Julian:
Skooch over! Fuck!
Someone take this.
Jesus Murphy.
Julian:
Oh, for fuck... I can't,
I'm not in, boys.
Ricky:
Ah, fuck me!
Come on, cuz.
Move the fuck over!
Ricky:
Holy fuck, boys!
There's a fucking
pair of pliers
going in my ribs!
Okay, now
watch the leather,
watch the leather.
Various:
Watch my foot! Oh, shit!
The leather,
mothafucka?
This ain't
mothafuckin'
leather.
It's real leather.
Why the fuck you
got rubbers, cuz?
Yeah, I might need
that for the subway.
Okay, listen, everybody
got their seatbelts on?
Ricky:
Just fucking drive!
(Engine choking)
Dammit, you guys had
the doors open so long
you drained
the battery.
How the fuck have
you got cockroaches
in this bitch?
Julian:
Fuck this! Everybody
out! Everybody out!
Yeah, abort!
Abort!
(Groaning)
Jesus Christ!
Jesus Murphy...
Steinberg, let's
go with my money.
Oh, fine....
Lobster shells in there!
Have you got my
mothafuckin' money?
Well, this is weird.
I don't even know
how this is possible.
I think I lost it.
How crazy is that?
Goddamn,
mothafucka!
You fucking ruthless,
you know that?
Next time Snoop's in trouble,
I'm giving
your ass a call.
Hell yeah.
Call me any time.
Yo, T. We need you
to pick us up.
Jail.
There's no way
that a snake
could beat you
in a fist fight
because it doesn't
have fists.
So I don't understand
why anyone loses to
a snake.
(Siren wailing)
But if if curls up in a
ball, couldn't it, like,
really give you
a good shot that way?
Yeah, sure, but it has
to have an arm to be on
in order to swing it.
(Siren continues)
Dude, dude.
What?
Cops behind us, man.
Oh, shit! Well, we
just... Just let them
go by. Just go...
(Siren wailing)
Oh, fuck,
what do we do, man?
I don't know, dude.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
Oh, fuck! Oh man.
They're trying to pull
us over, dude. Oh shit.
Lahey:
Get the fuck
over there,
you fucking asshole!
Okay, okay, okay...
Cory:
Don't say
anything, dude.
I'll do the talking.
I'll do the talking.
(Siren stops)
Cory:
All right. Uh, uh... Shit.
Fuck's sakes.
(Laughing)
Jack-pot!
Hey, d'you get it?
I sure do,
Mr. Lahey.
Because it's pot.
Fucking jack-pot!
Good one.
We're in liquor
synchronicity.
(Laughing)
Hey!
You're not dead!
Awesome!
We thought you guys
were the real cops.
Why are you guys
dressed like that?
Where did you
get the car?
Enough of the
fucking small
talk, boys!
Where's the
fucking money,
you stupid little
shit pissants?
What fucking money?
Don't... touch me.
What fucking
money?
The money that
Snoop Dogg paid
for all this
fucking dope!
What do you think
I am? Stupid, Cory?
Well, obviously
you are stupid
because it's not
even dope that
anyone is buying
if they were buying
anything at all.
Uh, they're not
buying anything.
Okay. You want to
fucking play tough,
Mr. fucking
tough guys?
Get your fucking
cocksuckers in my car!
Get the fuck in
the car right now!
You're under arrest
for burglary!
Get in!
Cory:
Stop throwing the
gun around, dude.
Hop in, Ranbers!
Cory:
What are you doing?
(Engine starts)
Jacob:
You guys are cra...
What are you doing?
You know, you can't
leave that shit there.
(Remote phone ringing)
Julian:
Come on, boys.
Answer the
fucking phone!
Cory: (On phone)
Yo, what's up, dude?
Holy fuck! Where the
fuck are you guys?
Cory:
I'm just fucking with you.
You've reached Cory
and Jacob's phone.
We can't come to
the phone right now,
so leave us a message! Rawr!
Nice message,
assholes.
Where the fuck
are you guys at?
I need to talk
to you. Call me.
It's urgent!
Fuck,
they're dumb.
Maybe
they're not.
They sure made
you look stupid.
That was pretty
brilliance,
I must say.
Julian, just call
my phone.
I'm pretty sure
it's in my truck.
Maybe, if they hear
that ringing,
they'll answer it.
Don't get tricked again,
though, Julian.
Bubbles might have
a trick message
just like Cory
and Jacob.
Ricky, I'm sitting
right here.
Even if I did, like,
how would that
be a trick?
It might be, though.
Think about that one.
Bubbles: (On phone)
Hi, you've reached
Bubbles' Scrumpdilly
Organico Sauce Company,
pizza division. Please
leave a message...
Fuck!
Maybe the cops
got them too.
Did you ever
think of that?
Like, they could be
getting questioned
as we speak.
Man, they might
be dumb but they're
not fucking dicks.
They'd never
rat us out.
Don't worry about it.
Not on purpose
maybe.
(Electricity sizzling)
Lahey:
Time to start talking, boys,
or I'll send goddamn
110 shit amps
through your shitty
little bodies!
What's Snoop
and his guys buying
if it isn't
the weed?
I don't know,
I don't know!
(Whimpering)
(Sizzling)
How did that
feel, Cory?
Keep lying,
I dare you!
I'll do anything,
whatever you want.
Don't ask
for that.
No, dude, don't tell
him about the De-energy!
Ricky will
fucking be pissed!
De-energy?
Fuck.
It's okay, dude.
They don't know
what it is
and there's no way
they can ever find out
about where the
deal's happening on
the ocean tomorrow
because we don't
even know. So...
Five Hour
De-energy!
Ricky makes it
out of weed.
Of course,
Mr. Lahey!
Is that
what it is?
Is that what Snoop's
boys are buying
on the ocean
tomorrow?
You better tell me
where Ricky keeps
his stash,
you shit-glazed
shit!
(Screaming)
(Buzzing)
Does it hurt, Cory?
Fuck yeah!
(Indistinct)
(Buzzing)
(Screaming)
Ah... it hurts!
Enough!
Stop shocking him.
You can shock me instead.
Ah! No, I changed
my mind!
Don't shock me
instead, please...
Cory, we can keep
doing this all day
or you can
just tell me
where Ricky
keeps the goods.
(Buzzing)
(Screaming)
Hey, stop it!
It's on Bubbles'
truck!
Leave him
alone, fuck!
It's on
Bubbles' truck?
(Whimpering)
Oh. Well, that's a
shocking development.
Have a nice
day, boys.
Give me that...
(Muffled music)
I need a blunt!
Motherfuckers,
your prisons
are like preschool.
Know what I mean?
Good luck, T!
Oh, my fucking gosh.
They seized our shit.
What the fucking...
Jules!
You better fix this shit
right fucking now!
I'm working on it.
(Remote phone ringing)
They must not
have found the weed
or you'd be back
in fucking jail.
Bubbles:
Yeah, but the fact
that the truck's gone,
Cory and Jacob must
have came through.
Try calling
my phone again.
What do you think
I'm fucking doing?
No. It went
to voice mail.
But it was
ringing?
Yes, it was ringing.
Okay, well that
means the fucking
thing's on, then.
That's a
good sign.
Pull up the
Find My Phone app.
Do you have that?
The what?
Find My Phone
app, yeah,
I got that shit
right here, cuz.
I lose this bitch
all the time.
All right.
It's gonna cost
you, all right?
Yeah. Okay, just wait.
You just call
someone up and they
find your phone?
No, Ricky, look.
I punch in my number
and it should tell
us where it is.
Okay, look.
Here it is.
They're out on
Doodle-puller Road.
Why the fuck
would they be
way out there?
Oh, fuck! I bet
they pulled over
so Jacob could shit
and the fucking bears
or cougars got them.
Bears and
cougars... what?
They're fucking
probably dead again!
Ricky, what are
you talking about?
Cory: Dudes!
Ricky:
Poor fuckers.
Julian:
What the fuck
happened to you guys?
Randy and Lahey
are alive!
They held us
captive!
They shocked us
with a wire.
They're fucking
crazy.
So what did
you tell them?
They tortured us!
Look at my nips!
Not much, dude.
We just told them
that the deal
was going down
tomorrow
and you're actually
only selling
De-energizer,
not weed.
Oh, what?
So they've got
the truck with all
the shit on it?
No.
Thank fuck.
Well, dude,
they know where
it is, though.
And I'm pretty sure
they're on their
way there now.
Oh my fuck, you guys
are dumb! Fuck!
You're one dumb
piece of shit,
you know that?
Ugh!
Julian:
All right, let's
go! Come on!
Ricky:
Fuck's sakes!
(Indistinct)
...very nice.
Ricky:
Fucking unlock me! Fuck!
(Car doors slamming)
(Engine starting)
(Engine revving)
Hey!
What about us?
Okay, boys.
It's just up here
about a
fucking mile.
Right on.
It looks like.
I can see it.
Just wait
a second,
it looks like
it's fucking moving.
What?
It is moving!
It's coming
right towards us.
Jesus Christ,
Lahey beat us to it!
Oh, fuck!
No he didn't!
The fucking cops got it!
He must have
fucking called them.
We're fucked, boys!
No, I'm fucked!
That's my truck!
Hey! Hey, hey!
What? What?
Turn the car around
right now, cuz!
What?
What do you mean,
turn it around?
What do you mean,
what do I mean?
I ain't leaving here
without my shit!
I ain't a mothafuckin'
mathematician
but there's
two of them
and one, two,
three, four of us,
motherfuckers!
What the fuck are
you talking about?
Seriously?
Yeah, man.
What the fuck?
This is about to be a
hommo case up in this bitch
if you don't turn
this mothafuckin'
car around!
Okay, Julian,
turn the fucking
car around!
Sammy, you best get
that fucking gun
out of my neck,
motherfucker!
Or what?
Bubbles:
Julian, set your drink
down and use your muscles!
Julian:
Let me fucking do it, man!
Sammy:
What the fuck?
You're giving me
mothafuckin' whiplash!
Julian:
Settle the fuck down.
Bubbles:
Ricky, why don't
you hold his drink
so the man can use both his...
Julian:
Just get your hands
off my fucking drink!
All right, cuz,
...faster.
There you go.
Passing up...
Sammy:
All right, cut him off.
Bubbles:
Julian, don't do this.
Sammy:
Cut him off!
I'm cutting him off!
I'm cutting him off!
Fast and the
Furious! Come on!
Bubbles:
For fuck's sakes, Julian!
Ricky:
This is fucked!
Oh, my fuck.
Now what?
All right, listen,
it's like you've seen
in the movies, cuz.
We goin' to get
out of this car
and we goin' to
unload on them
mothafuckas.
You feel me?
What? Unload?
We can't fucking
unload on them!
They're cops,
boys! Please,
come on, Julian,
this is getting
too crazy!
Lahey: (On megaphone)
Exit the vehicle please,
with your hands in the air!
Was that
fucking Lahey?
Who the fuck
is Lahey,
mothafucka?
He's a drunk,
crazy, fucking
deranged lunatic,
who used
to be a cop.
It fucking
sounded like him.
Lahey:
Come on, Shitulian!
Against the car!
Come on, spread
that beautiful frame.
This mothafucka
know you?
Jesus Christ.
It's definitely
him.
"Spread your
beautiful frame"?
What the fuck?
I want you all to
put your hands up.
Randy:
You guys almost killed us!
The jig is up.
You're going
to pay up, boys.
Hey! You better
put that gun away,
mothafucka!
Right now.
One, two, three.
There you go.
Do you want me
to pop a cap
in your mothafuckin'
ass, boy?
What?
You want some lead
in your head? Huh?
Yeah!
Yeah?
Yeah!
What?
Okay!
Okay?
I don't
fucking care!
Put a fucking
cack in my head!
Cack?
Go on, do it!
Fucking put me out of
my misery, bud!
Oh, Mr. Lahey!
Do it!
Don't! I love you,
Mr. Lahey.
Why?
Look, frig all
this stuff!
Let's just...
We don't have
to fly to Ireland
and get married.
Let's just
walk away.
Lahey:
I'm sorry, Randy.
Ireland?
You're right, bud.
I'm out of control.
Excuse me.
I got so fucked
over losing Mo
and I spent half
my fucking life
trying to love
this dumb fucking
shit-covered shit-log
and he's not even
my fucking son!
Thank fuck!
I don't want to
take it any more.
Go ahead.
Anyway...
none of this matters
any more, boys.
You know why?
Because we're fucked!
Take a look at that.
Various:
Oh, fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
Lahey:
Yeah, that's a little bit...
(Siren honking)
...of a sweet
shit-tasting
irony, isn't it?
Fuck! I'm not going
to mothafuckin' jail,
cuz! Fuck this!
Put the gun away!
Put the fucking gun away!
Put the fucking gun away!
We're not
fucking getting
in a gunfight
with the cops!
Okay, listen! Listen.
Lahey?
Yeah?
We've all be through
a lot here, okay?
Right.
If I can somehow get us
all out of this shit,
you have to promise to
leave us the fuck alone.
Don't tell the cops
about the deal.
We'll get it done
and everything at
the trailer park
will go back to
fucking normal.
You have our word.
Right, boys?
Various:
Yes, yeah.
How does that
sound, Mr. Lahey?
I just want
to be together.
I'd rather not
be in jail.
All right... okay.
Beautiful.
Thank fuck,
it's Ted Johnson,
the second dumbest
cop on the force.
Well, look who's
alive after all!
Nice outfits.
New car, Jim?
Nice beard.
Both of them.
So this is where
you've been, eh?
Busy buying costumes
and stealing
police cars.
That's a really
nice suit you
got there, bud.
Fucking... it must
be really expensive.
I'm impressed.
Well, Ted, thank fuck
you're here, man.
Crazy fucking
morning, man!
We were on our way
down to the wharf
and a guy
flagged us down
who was driving
this police car here
and he said he was
an undercover cop.
Ted:
Okay?
Well, of course
we pulled over.
We like helping the police
whenever we can.
Anyway, he said
he ran out of gas
and he had two of
Satan's Bastards
in the car.
It was really fishy.
Like, he was really
super fucking nervous.
So I looked in the car
and quickly realized
it was fucking Lahey and
Randy in the back seat.
They were tied up.
Right.
I was, like, "Bud,
you are full of shit.
You're not an
undercover cop."
I fucking freaked out
and then I think
he knew what
was going on,
so he panicked
and fucking ran
through the
tall grass here
and jumped
in the water.
The last I saw of him
he was half-way across
the land there, swimming.
It was fucking crazy, man.
Like, you're going
to have to go
after the
fucking guy.
Wow, that is
pretty crazy.
Yeah!
It's quite a story.
Yeah.
Now, Jim.
Hm?
Do you want to tell
me what's really
going on here?
Yeah, well, Ricky told
you the absolute truth.
If it wasn't
for these guys,
Randy and I,
we'd be fucking
dead by now, Ted.
Right.
Right...
And you fucking
police dummies
made them go
through hell.
Hm!
Instead of being out
looking for them,
you accuse us
of fucking
murdering them.
You better drop
those charges
and give us back
our fucking money!
Just shut up,
Ricky.
I will for a second.
That's it.
Shut up!
Fuck off!
And Jim...
Hm?
What about that letter
that you wrote?
The one we found
in your camper.
You know?
Yeah, you were
telling us about that.
It was the
kidnappers, was it?
Oh! The fucking
kidnapper!
He forced me
to do it at
gunpoint, Ted!
Fucking heavy
duty shit.
You guys are all
so full of shit!
I have to shit...
But you know
what? No.
I don't even
care any more.
Now I've got
a police matter
that I have
to deal with.
It's a real one.
So, Randy,
in order
to make sure
that the paperwork
on this
is filed properly,
I'll have to
see you later.
Actually,
we both will.
For frig's sakes.
Ricky:
For what?
Ted:
You take my car.
I'll grab the cruiser
that these idiots stole.
And the next time...
(Engine starts)
any of you people
even get
as much as
a parking ticket,
I'm going to throw
your ass in jail
so fast it'll make
your heads spin!
You got that?
Absolutely.
Yep.
I don't live here
but sure, cuz.
Good.
Fuck, my eyes
are really dry.
I don't know what
the fuck's going
on there.
Keys are in
the ignition, Ted!
Mothafucka!
You was one slick
Rick mothafucka!
I fuck with your shit!
Real good!
You should be
on my mothafuckin'
payroll, cuz. I got you!
Thank God
cops are dumb.
That was a way
fucking better
plan than you had.
"Let's blast
everybody!"
That's all I know.
Randy:
Thanks for keeping us
out of jail, Ricky.
Okay, boys!
What's next
on the agenda?
This is what's next.
Julian, what
are you doing?
Julian!
I thought
we had a deal!
There is no deal.
Get the fuck
in my trunk.
(Gun click)
Ricky:
(Chuckling)
(Theme music)
(Seabirds squawking)
Fish:
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck off! Fuck!...
Fuck off! Jesus Christ!
(Whisper)
Fuck.
(Light clicks off)
Fuck off.