Original subtitles

Ladies and gentlemen,

we're starting the final hour of this fight-a-thon!

I have an important announcement to make.

The representatives of Guinness Records have just contacted me.

They just realized that the actual record isn't 110 hours,

but 112 hours.

So we'll add three hours to the clock,

in order to beat the record!

I gotta go. I have an important appointment.

Get close to Guy. Lend me your phone.

Okay.

Dad? It's me. I need your help.

I'm glad you feel better.

A FEW DAYS EARLIER...

I'll bring it to you real soon.

Bye.

I'm so relieved.

Why?

My mechanic just got out of the hospital. I'll finally get my car checked out.

Why not elsewhere?

Are you nuts? I can't do that. I'd be too uncomfortable.

It's really important to trust your mechanic.

What's underneath your hood is really private.

It's a part of you that he fondles.

Oh, boy.

You must be really picky when it comes to choosing a doctor.

It's the same thing.

Finding the right one is a long process.

I'm lucky. I found a good doctor.

-Really? -Yes. Her name is Dr. Nguyen. She's Vietnamese.

-She has very small and thin fingers. -Why her?

When you need to get a prostate exam, you'll understand.

Okay, well, give me the number, because I'll need one soon.

Why is that? You don't have a prostate.

I meant the mechanic.

You're not getting a car anytime soon. You're just starting to drive.

Shit. Here he goes again.

Good thing I have to go.

Me, too.

And since we didn't want hockey players to monopolize compassion,

the Slug Pro Am opens its doors

to disease-ridden children.

You know... you may...

have trouble breathing,

get all these operations and treatments, and be stuck in your room,

but unlike the other kids,

you, you're lucky to be an inspiration.

You know,

the other kids must be jealous.

You know...

You have to look at the bright side.

My hair, for example,

I have to worry about shaving it or trimming it.

You don't have any.

Guy.

Guy.

That goddamn flute is unbearable.

It sounds like "My Heart Will Go On" played by someone with Tourette's.

I don't get it. He's so talented and brilliant in school.

And he's a wonderful artist.

Why desperately want to do the only thing he's bad at?

Does he know he sucks?

Nowadays, kids think they're good at everything,

because that's what their parents tell them.

"What a beautiful drawing."

"What a wonderful poem." "What a nice poo.

We'll frame it and send it to the museum."

Modern parents are scared to hurt their kids' feelings.

They don't realize it's inevitable and that it will be worse later.

So...

should we tell Jonathan he can't play?

Of course. And we should tell him he'll never be like Mozart.

It's not being mean, it's just being responsible.

Did you hear me play?

Oh, yes.

Did you like it? It was beautiful.

Did you recognize it? I was playing "My Heart Will Go On."

That's what I thought.

-You're very talented, Jonathan. -Thanks.

Will you come to my school recital?

Sure. Of course.

I'll keep practicing.

Yes. Go ahead.

Look carefully. There has to be enough space.

And make sure not to be too close or too far from the car on the right.

Like that?

It's imperative to line up your passenger-side mirror

with that of the vehicle on the right.

And above all...

Above all?

Keep your seat belt on?

Keep a space between the two cars

equal to the space of your car door when it's fully open.

Now would be a good time to check the mirrors.

-Oh. A smartass. -I got it right, didn't I?

Outside of this car, I lead a boring life and I get a lousy pay.

I have a wife that's bitter and obese and two ugly kids.

I'm frustrated on every level and I have no hope of happiness.

But inside this car,

I'm almighty.

I'm a vengeful god striking down my students with wrath.

-With what? -With wrath.

-It's in the dictionary, you know? -That's why I've never heard it.

Does that mean you'll be unpleasant?

Of course not.

Aren't you cold?

-No, why? -What if I crank up the AC?

Yes.

You're all morons!

Come on, Guy.

-They came to meet wrestlers. -You know...

I really tried to be accessible,

but when you're used to the top of Mount Olympuff...

It's not Olympuff.

It's Olympus.

I'm talking about another mountain.

It must be really high, because your brain lacks oxygen.

-You little-- -That's enough!

-You totally messed up my event. -Sorry.

Don't you get it's important for our image to be involved in the community?

There's always a return on investment with these things.

We'll find another way.

Yeah. We could raise money for charity.

How? You wanna sell candy door to door?

Candy? What a dumb idea.

Couldn't it be something else?

A bingo night, a spaghetti dinner, or a dance marathon.

A dance marathon?

What?

-Have you ever done that? -No.

I think he has.

-I think so, too. -No.

You have, haven't you?

No, never. Stop it.

-You're lying. -Okay, fine. Once.

They put "Achy Breaky Heart" on repeat and now when I see a cowboy hat, I puke.

-Are you happy? -A fight-a-thon!

Let's have...

a fight-a-thon.

I called this press conference

to announce a truly special upcoming event.

Our federation,

the Slug Pro Am, will be hosting its first ever fight-a-thon.

I have to say this is really exciting.

If I were a kid, I'd wanna be sick.

Let's be clear,

this will be the Guinness World Record for the longest wrestling match ever.

Actually, this is about

pushing the limits of the human body to the very edge,

at the risk of dying. Or even worse.

Our goal is a 110-hour fight starting on Sunday the 19th,

all through Friday the 24th.

FIGHT-A-THON

A what?

A fight-a-thon.

The longest wrestling match in history.

Five good guys going against five bad guys.

Why five?

So we can alternate and take little breaks.

Otherwise, they couldn't suck it up.

I got time off from the office, since it's for a good cause.

-Will you come see me? -Sure.

He's got school and I have work, but we'll be there as much as possible.

-Will you be coming to my recital? -Of course.

Right after the fight-a-thon.

I'm freezing.

I'll go take a bath.

Put on some clothes.

She's practically naked.

FIGHT-A-THON JONATHAN'S RECITAL

And so, the 110-hour fight begins!

I asked for a 90-degree angle and this was 83 degrees at the most.

Hands at ten and two.

Ten and two!

"The student only knows how to read a digital clock."

Someone's gonna be taking Uber this summer.

JONATHAN'S RECITAL

Alright, everyone, settle down. The show's about to begin.

Ladies and gentlemen,

we're starting the final hour of this fight-a-thon!

I have an important announcement to make.

Hello?

Dad? It's me. I need your help. What's going on? I hear the crowd, isn't the fight over?

We need three more hours to beat the record.

Yeah, but you're gonna miss Jonathan's recital.

That's why I'm calling you. The problem is, I won't be able to go.

Please tell Jonathan

I'm really sorry I couldn't make his recital.

That's out of the question, you can't miss his recital, Carl.

I'll have to find a solution.

No, no, no!

Don't find a solution. It always ends in disaster.

Dad, listen to me.

Dad! I don't want you to do anything.

DRIVING SCHOOL Go sit in the back.

I'm her grandpa. We have an emergency. Go sit in the back.

We're going to Jonathan's school.

You wanna drive?

No, it's your driving lesson, I have to respect that.

-Yeah, about that-- -Hey! Sit in the back, don't move,

and shut up, you got that? Come on, step on it.

Hurry up.

Take the keys, I don't want him to leave.

Oh, you're here. Isn't Dad with you guys?

No. But I need to talk to your teacher and the parents.

And... I only ask you for this huge favor

to help an exemplary father,

who unfortunately couldn't come to his son's recital,

because he happens to be helping children

that are a lot less fortunate than you, you, you,

you, you, and all the others.

I'll do it!

I'm game.

That's perfect.

Here's a spot.

Good job. Okay, stop.

Don't move until I say so, okay?

A music recital? This is wrestling, Mr. Hébert.

No, it's not just wrestling, it's a fight-a-thon for sick children.

Okay? And it would make for an amazing finale

to have the final slaps accompanied by an orchestra of deprived kids.

-They're sick? -Deaf.

Deaf?

Once you hear them play, you'll understand.

Well done, guys,

you now hold the Guinness World Record for the longest wrestling match ever.

Great courage. Great endurance. But also, thank you.

Thank you for allowing me to experience this special moment. Thanks to you,

little sick children will regain some hope.

By the way, the receiving foundation thanks you wholeheartedly.

You already chose one? Which foundation is it?

I don't wanna bother you with that and mess with your concentration.

What's the name, though?

The Guy Langlois Foundation.

Wait a minute, are you the one...?

I just wanted to be sure of where the money would go.

Now that I have the final figures,

I can guarantee you that once the management

and administrative costs plus the foundation staff have been paid,

a minimum of two percent of the funds will go directly to these poor kids.

Isn't that great?

I can't wait to sleep in my bed.

I can imagine. It's weird,

it's like we forgot something, but I don't know what.

Do you have time for a little break?

Sure.

Thanks.

Sure. Hey, Dad...

I just wanted to say...

You know when I said...

your solutions always end up in disaster?

Yeah?

I shouldn't have said that. It was lame.

Your solution the other night...

was magical.

Well...

I thought you'd never say it. I can't deal with this. Sorry.

What?

After the response to his recital, he wants to be a musician even more

and started playing the trumpet.

I take back what I said about your disastrous solutions.

You've created a monster.

Yeah.

At least he won't eat anybody.