Original subtitles

ERIC: Shamez, wah gwan?

- Wha's de scene, bai?

I just workin' on this personal project here.

- Holy shit, there's a lot of speakers, bro.

- Ya seein' this? - Mm-hm!

- This is 3,000 watts in it.

You wanna hear de bass? - Yeah, yeah, kinda.

- Tell me ya wanna hear de bass!

- Run de bloodclaat! - Ha! Hey!

[bass thumping]

SHAMEZ: Oooooh...

Eric, hear dis fuckin' thing, now, bai?

Boom! Boom!

ERIC: Yo! Yo!

- That don't usually happen!

- Yo, the fire, man! Put it out!

Quick! Yo, hurry up!

Your van's gonna...

Yeah, you're jokin' now, you're jokin'.

Put 'em out.

- It under control!

Whew!

- What the fuck?

- [high-pitched ringing] - Wha'?

- What the fuck? - I scare ya?

- Yeah!

- We nearly burned down dis whole buildin'!

- You! - Nah, we.

-You !

- Both of we was enjoyin' it, ent?

I realize you real soft ways.

A soft man. Woman don't like soft man.

If you find that loud, you should see what your fatha

playin' in he car.

- Brother, your ear is literally bleeding.

- [high-pitched ringing] - Wha'?

- Your ear is bleeding.

- Ah, de girls dem leadin', yeah!

- No, no, your ear- bleeding.

Blood.

- Oh!

Yeah, bai, it really bleedin'!

- Yeah! - [laughs]

- Oh... - Now, this happen.

But a bass is not just a loud noise.

It's a statement, y'understand? - Mm-hm.

- [grunts with effort]

Now, when ya fatha rollin' through, right,

everybody know he comin'! You know why?

- Mm? - [booming music]

- Woo! [laughing]

- Serious! Serious! - On fire! On fire!

- [car alarm blaring] - Fuck!

EVERETT: Yo, yo, yo, enough's enough, bro!

Enough's enough!

SHAMEZ: Damn, wha gwan wit you?

- Bro, I need quiet!

- So I must stop my work to facilitate your work?

So, who gonna pay de bills to me?

- Okay, we have a 10-minute meeting.

Can we hold off until then?

- [high-pitched ringing] - Wha'?!

- Please! Hold off, 10 minutes!

- [kisses his teeth] - Please.

- I's a fair man.

Ya ask me nice.

Ya see, if ya work wit me, I gon' work wit ya.

- Alright, yo, Eric, you're late. Let's go.

- [high-pitched ringing] - Huh?!

? Money can't buy me happiness... ?

EVERETT: Alright, easy shit. Uh...

Today we're at a school that's being demolished

this summer, so we're in there to get lockers,

chairs, and desks out, and then back here

to be stripped down for scrap metal, alright?

Ah, fuck, steel toes. Carla!

- How are you guys still here?

The DVP is closed, which is gonna add an hour.

They're not even gonna let you on site without steel toes.

- Yo, Ricky, those are steel toe?

- Yeah, they're steel toe, boss.

- Yeah, my boots are steelies. I'm good.

HASSAN: Ah, Doug, you need new boots, bro.

DOUG: Like piss!

Girl took 'em to the cobbler's last week.

They're pretty much brand new. Got 'em resoled.

- Wait, your girl has a cobbler? - And a fat ass.

- Yo, what the fuck's a cobbler?

- It's like Rumpelstiltskin but for boots.

- Alright, I got 12s and 5s. Figure it out.

Fuck are those?

- A man from the mosque stained my sneakers, man.

- Bro, but why are you in flip-flops at work?

- These are the only ones that were left.

I had to jam these from the bathroom.

- Fuck, alright, squeeze into these.

It's not gonna be too much of a long day.

HASSAN: What the hell? You think I'm a doll?

The man's tryin' to Cinderella me, man.

- Alright, yo, fuck, Eric, just stop by the thrift

on the way to the site, [muffled].

- [high-pitched ringing] - Hmm?

- Stop by the thrift on the way to the site

and grab any boots if they don't have steel toes.

- With what car? - Ah, fuck.

Yeah, just take Dad's, here. - Huh?

- Just take Dad's. - No, bro. No, no, no.

That guy does not let me drive his car, bro, no .

- What, are you scared of your dad?

- Yeah! - [phone ringing]

- Hey, take this, man. - I can come with you.

- Ah, yeah. Roll with Eric. If nothing, just take these.

- You guys need to go! The client is freaking out!

?

KAVEH: [echoey voice] All of this life,

my vehicle, my family, my heart, my mind...

- [loud bang] - [Kaveh screams]

- Morning, Kaveh. - Armond, what the fuck?!

How many times I tell you,

announce when you walk in de room?

You're gonna gimme a heart attack, man!

- Okay. Well, first of all, top of the morning.

I'm glad to be back.

I brought you Country Bits.

- Fuck your bits.

Where is the OSB?

- Have to go check it here.

This is what you ask-ed for.

- This is not OSB!

This is particle board, man!

It has to hold weight!

You know weight?

- Kaveh, you have to trusting Armond.

I use this before.

Okay? You just have to-

- You use this before? - Yes.

- Okay. Stand on it.

- Armond will stand on this once it's becoming the floor.

Come on, let's get back to work.

?

?

- Lil' Fizz, you got these in a 13?

- Yo, Unc, like, it's a thrift store.

Like, we got what we got.

ERIC: I'm fried.

- Yo, yo, Unc! You need socks to try on those shoes.

- Yo, my yout'. Who you talkin' to?

- You guys are both uncs. - Go feel my skin care routine.

What's wrong with this guy? - Bro, we're not even that old.

We're YNs. - Yeah!

- Just make sure you get your seniors' discount, 'aight?

- He's bein' disrespectful, bro. - [phone buzzing]

- Oh, shit.

Hello?

EVERETT: [on phone] Yo, where you guys at?

- We're at the thrift.

-Bro, there's no way you guys are still jokin' around there!

Pick up any boot and hurry up, bro!

We're late as is!

- Bro, how am I jokin'? What the hell?

I'm at de thrif gettin' boots.

- Yo, you think Everett will allow deez?

EVERETT: Bro, get over here, now.

[phone beeping]

- This guy just hang up on me, bro?

[clapping in background]

ZLAD: Look at what we have here.

[ominous music]

If it isn't the hand-me-down demons.

- Bro, what? It's just a quick boot stop. What?

- At the thrift store, bro?

- Bro, you're here too.

- It's where I come to drop off all my old shit.

If you brokies wanna make some big boy money,

I can get you in some Zenithon uniforms,

if you wanna start respecting yourself at some point.

HASSAN: How you gonna diss us

and then poach us at the same time?

ERIC: Like, what?

ZLAD: ? This business runs on motion ?

? Not emotion! ?

I gotta get in the stu'. Holy shit, that was good.

- Why are you singin' to us?

- Leave us alone.

ERIC: We don't need no hand-outs.

Shazam has serious motion.

When Everett lines, uh, the Grand Marlow?

- Yeah! - Bro, we're up.

That's a big bag. Me and my twin, raises.

- The Grand Marlow?

ERIC: Yeah, the Grand fuckin' Marlow.

- You can bet your fuckin' life you're not getting

the Grand Marlow. Anyways, you got my number.

You can have those boots for free.

I'll talk to the store owner. Charity work.

[ominous music]

ERIC: I mean, low-key, Everett does have us,

you know, kinda down bad, cro.

- You're... actually considering it?

What's wrong wit you?

- Yeah, we should go.

- [truck beeping] - EVERETT: Yeah, yeah, yeah,

back, back, back, back, back.

Yeah, juice it, juice it.

Come on, cuz!

The fuck took these lockers out?

Alright, yo, hang tight! I'ma go fuck with the client!

Who the fuck lined this shit up?

[tense, eerie music]

I thought...

?

The fuck, man?

Cynthia?

Good morning, Cynthia. Sorry we're late.

CYNTHIA: You quoted me for an 8:00 AM move.

Not true?

- That is true. Yes, that's true.

- And now it is 10:00 AM. Not true?

- Oh, no, it's only 9:17.

- No, no, no, no, no, no. You already cut another hour.

At 10 o'clock now.

- Oh, yeah, it is 10.

You're right, look, just shave two hours off our quote

and then we'll just get right to it.

But, hey, I did notice on the way in

a lot of these lockers are already pulled out.

That was our job, right?

- And you say you come here 8 o'clock a'mornin'?

- Yes, mommy.

- Ah- no! Don't do dat. - Okay.

- When mi look 'round and see say yuh never reach,

me give 'way da job!

Dem take away ya food. - Who?

- I gave it to a company that understands punc-tu-ality.

- Who? Where are they? - Everett, come here.

Lemme tell ya somethin'. Come here.

Come here.

You see da man who remains hungry?

- Mm-hm.

- Him never h'affi beg fi a plate.

LENNOX: Tell him again, Cynthia!

Bip bip bip bip bip bip bip bip- bop!

- [laughter] - Lennox!

LENNOX: C!

Wah gwan, sweetie?

- Not much, man. Mi glad to see ya.

- Long time, no? - Glad to see ya, man.

EVERETT: Holy hugs.

- Glad, glad, glad to see ya. - Glad to see ya, too, trust me.

Long time, no?

- You know, I must say...

I am very pleased wit de Omerta guys.

This was not your mess to clean.

[ominous music]

But see it dere? You do de job.

At least somebody here understands

the meaning of urgency.

LENNOX: Well, you know, Cynthia, if you call,

it's always urgent.

- Ya see why mi love ya, though?

- And I'm always in the area.

- [phone buzzing] - Oh, sorry, Len. Hol' on.

- Take time, sweetie. [laughs]

- So, you guys go way back or somethin'?

[ominous music]

?

What...?

?

Pssh.

MICHAEL: [crying]

She told me it would be forever!

- And it's okay, man. Look, a guy like you,

handsome, young, beautiful, there is a fish in de-

in de lake, everywhere, man.

With one swim away like that, you catch it-

DOUG: Fuck all that fish shit, dude.

You need to get yourself a turtle.

Somethin' you can grow old with, somethin' that goes slow.

- You don't understand! This is more than a relationship.

This is my papers. This is deportation!

- Oh, fuck. - Immigration!

[sobbing]

- Yo, respect to your guys for dealin' with those lockers.

Appreciate that, for real. - Yeah.

My guys aren't the type of guys you thank.

You feel me? My guys are real guys.

- Sorry?

- Like, you guys have movers...

but do you guys have guys ?

You know, like real guys?

- Yeah, they're all guys. They're...

All my guys are outside.

- [laughs] Holy, his guys are outside.

- What? - I just came from outside.

I didn't see no real guys out dere.

My guys are outside for real.

Tryin' to show you.

- No, they're all, like, literally outside.

Like, waitin' in the front. - No, I get it.

Obviously, like, you guys have guys.

Like, there's guys out front.

I'm tryin' to show you the difference.

Like... my right-hand guy, is a guy .

Feel me?

[ominous music conntinues]

You're not gettin' it?

- You're sayin' "guy" but you don't mean "guy."

What's guy? Who's guy?

- No, I mean guy. - Oh.

- No, no, I mean guy. Guyzerini.

You know? A guy-zer.

A guy that does what a guy does.

A guys' guy!

- A guys' guy? - Yeah!

Guy Lafleur.

Guy Fieri. No? It's not makin' sense to you?

Maybe I'm not even speakin' English!

I dunno. Maybe I'm speakin' Guyanese.

You know, everything we use to live is made in Guy-wan.

You understand what I'm sayin'?

I'm losin' it, bro!

- I'm losin' it. I'm losin' it, bro. What is...

What do you mean?

- Just know...

how my guys removed the lockers for you,

my guys will remove you for me, easy.

- If this is about the Grand Marlow, we can-

- It's about whatever you want it to be about, broski.

Trust me!

You guys keep pushin' into my routes,

I may have to reroute dat permanently.

You understand me?

I got guys who move...

and I got guys who do the moving.

And we don't like the way you guys are movin',

and we're wit da movements. You understand what I'm sayin'?

There's guys and lows in life, brother. Get with it.

You're tryin' to tell me the guy's not blue?

I'm really out here. You understand?

You know the motto, kid.

- I'm sorry? - I'm a real guy.

And you can tell your pops, too, brother.

- Wait, my dad?

What does my dad have to do with it?

- Sorry, Len. - It's okay.

We were just catchin' up. - Mm-hm.

So let's talk about this invoice.

EVERETT: We're about to get started, if that's-

- Go back a' work.

Mi nuh know why ya stand up here

like ya not have nothin' fi do. At 12 o'clock now!

- Okay, but- alright.

- Invoice, invoice... It's gonna be right here.

- This is deportation! This my- my- my visa!

My visa! [sobbing]

- Mikey, Mikey...

Maybe this is God saving you from a lifetime of problems

and- and freezing cold.

- [sobbing]

- Maybe you should go back home to Nigeria.

- I- I should- who? I should go back to Nigeria?!

Uncle Marcus, when is my own turn,

I should go back to Nigeria?

When last- when last did you come to Nigeria, Uncle Marcus?!

You want me to go back home and be driving danfo?

When last did you come?

- Control yourself.

- Fuck you, nigga! Fuck you!

- Ah-ah!

- Okay...

MARCUS: Mikey, I am warning you, control yourself.

Control yourself.

ERIC: What happened?

- [no accent] Get the fuck off me with that Nigerian shit, huh?

- Alright, Doug, Ricky, Michael, Marcus.

- [Nigerian accent] Boss! What do you need?

- Why is Michael cryin'?

- His- his, uh, girlfriend break up with him.

- What?!

- Boss, I'm an illegal alien, boss.

Boss, they are going to deport me back to Nigeria!

- Fuck.

- I should be on de next flight, boss.

No refund, straight deportation.

- Alright, alright. - I don't want to go back, boss!

- Fuck all that alien talk for now.

Let's deport these lockers and figure this out later, yeah?

- Guy's leakin'! Why you sweatin'?

- Why you wearing cowboy boots?

- You said get any boots.

- Yeah, I said boots, not fuckin' [Southern accent] boots!

You got fuckin' boots !

- Boots , boots, what are- it's boots!

- I asked for work boots, you get cowboy boots !

-Boots are boots!

- This is a fuckin' joke, man. Yo, keep an eye on your nephew.

You guys, let's get on these lockers, man.

Let's get these out. - They're nice boots.

EVERETT: Let's get these lockers packed up, bro.

Come on, bro! I didn't say any fuckin' any boot, bro!

You're wearin' cowboy boots !

[phone ringing]

CARLA: "Wah gwan"...

[answering machine beeps]

ZLAD: Pick up the fucking phone, Everett, you slimeball prick .

I know about the Grand Marlow.

And it's not like your fucking secretary's doing anything .

She just sits there all day !

- [phone beeps] - [phone ringing]

- Listen, you fuck! - Carla?

- Uh, sorry. [laughs] What's up with you?

- Have you ever heard of an Omerta Logistics?

- Omerta... no. Who are they?

- Fuck, I dunno, but I think I just got

totally grilled by their CEO.

I think it's about that Grand Marlow shit.

Also, I think Michael totally got dumped.

- What? We can't lose our Immi-Grant grant!

EVERETT: I know, man, fuck. We'll figure somethin' out .

- I... may have another option, actually.

- [loud crash] - CARLA: His name is Chrisss .

- Sorry, we'll talk, we'll talk, we'll talk.

MARCUS: [no accent] These ain't no mother-fuckin' steel toes!

- Hello?

- [no accent] Fuckin' workin' my ass off, man!

- [Nigerian pronunciation] Marcus!

- [laughs nervously]

- What's good?

- Ah...

[Nigerian accent] Uh, I'm good oh!

I'm very good oh!

- Where'd your accent go just now?

- Accent? Wah? Why? What are you talking about?

What accent? Ah! - Is your foot good?

- Ah! Yes!

EVERETT: Alright, perfect. We don't have insurance.

- Boss, don't look at the foot, look here!

EVERETT: What happened? It just fell on your foot?

- No, no, no, no, no! This is fine, boss! [laughs]

This is fine, boss! - Okay, you sure?

You don't need to sit down for a bit?

- I am good! Good as good.

- Okay, just walk it off, then. - Yes, yes, yes!

- You sure that lump isn't- the lump was there before?

- Boss, boss, boss! Don't look at my foot, boss!

- The lump was there before? - Look at me!

[in pain] Ahh!

Ahh...

- Where's everybody at?

Let's rip!

[upbeat music]

?

EVERETT: Nice, nice, nice. Yeah, right to the door.

Right to the door.

?

- Let's move on desks.

?

[clapping]

?

?

[truck beeping]

- Yo, easy, Hassan! Easy, easy!

DOUG: I can't feel my foot!

?

- Supervisor, what do we do here?

- I dunno, man. My feet are killin' me.

You supervise this shit, man.

- Up, up, up, up, up, up, up!

DOUG: Watch it, watch it! Watch your fingers.

- Hold on, push to the side.

DOUG: Watch your feet, watch your hands, watch your toes.

[talking over each other]

RICKY: Grab the bottom, grab the bottom!

[all yelling]

HASSAN: Yo, my boots are too small for this!

[all yelling]

ERIC: Wait, wait, wait, wait!

- I gotta take my boots off!

DOUG: Aah, fuck!

Dougie's got it! I got it, I got it, I got it!

[panicked breathing]

[dramatic music]

[loud crack]

[screaming in pain]

[all screaming]

[bird calling]

- Boss, is this the star bit?

- Yes, Armond. Just please, hurry, man!

It's heavy, man!

- I don't think that's the right...

- Armond! Hurry the fuck up!

- Yeah, give me one second. - It's burn, man. It's burn.

Please! Please, Armond!

- Armond needs the Philippines. That's why...

KAVEH: I'm sweating! My ass is sweating!

- I think one more screw, Kaveh.

- How about screw you, man?

- [crash] - Aah!

- [chuckling] - [groaning]

- That was actually quite comical.

- [Doug screaming] - Elevate the leg! Elevate!

It could be amputated! Okay, watch it, watch it.

Mind the circulation, mind the circulation!

Twist it back. It's already in the wrong direction.

- Look- - [bones cracking]

- [screaming] - Don't do that, don't do that!

- Sorry, sorry! - Holy shit!

EVERETT: Leave it! You're making it worse!

- [Doug screaming] - Sorry, sorry. Just relax.

RICKY: Relax. DOUG: What do you mean, relax?!

[ominous music]

?

?

?

[soca music blasts on]

MAN: Jesus fucking Christ!

[music stops]

- Wah goin' on?

Wah you need? Ya frightened, eh?

MAN: That was a little bit terrifying.

EVERETT: Yo, dawg, the thing is when we get to the hospital,

we got no work insurance, so-

- Deb's got me covered. I told you, boys.

She's got all that.

Besides the pain, I'm just chillin'.

- Perfect.

- You are... Shazzum, right?

- Yeah, I's di man. - Ah, okay, perfect.

I'm going to ask you a few questions, if that's alright.

- Wha'? - [high-pitched ringing]

- I have a few questions for you. I'm Grant.

- [high-pitched ringing] - Wha'?

- Grant. - Rent?!

- [in slow motion] Graaant!

[ominous music]

- [breathing frantically]

?

- Yeah, Carla?

CARLA: [phone] Listen.

There's a detective-looking guy at the warehouse

asking questions!

- Wait, what do you mean? What do you mean?

I thought you said they never check that shit!

- I don't know!

But this is definitely about the application!

- Wait, how do you know? Did he say anything?

What'd he say? Carla?

Carla, I can't hear nothin'. - Everett?

- It's fine, Ricky. Carla, I can't hear you.

CARLA: This is definitely gonna blow up like the-

- Hey, hey, hey, nothin's gonna blow up!

Nothin's gonna blow up, alright? You just relax. Hold it down.

We'll be home soon. Lay low till the end of the day.

We get back, we'll sort this out.

Just hide for now, alright?

- Everett? - Ricky, don't worry.

- Don't worry! - She knows about the explosion!

- Don't worry! Leave it alone!

No one's talking about exploding the van but you.

- [quietly] Shut up! - I'm tellin' you to shut up!

C llate ! - You c llate !

Fucking c llate. Just shh.

No one knows about you blowing up the van.

[ominous music]

- Yo, what's good, bro?

- Huh. Let's park like cops.

ERIC: No, we don't need to. Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo!

ERIC: Easy, bro! ZLAD: Relax!

- Why you bein'- - I got it!

Bro, I said I got it! I'm not even touching!

- Come on! It's a classic car! - Oh my God.

ERIC: Alright.

- Pants, shirt, jacket, gloves.

- Bro... what? - [loud thud]

- Yo! [laughs]

- What the fuck? Fuckin' boots in there!

- Yo! [cackles]

- [sighs] - Welcome to Zenithon, dipsit.

- When do I start? - See ya ma ana , 9:30.

Headquarters.

[tires squealing]

- Yo! - [metal scraping]

ERIC: My dad's car!

RICKY: Everett, [speaking Spanish].

Maybe, and this is a suggestion...

While he's sleeping...

- [quietly] I take this one... Quick, fast...

Just take it- - [quietly] No, no, no!

- [quietly] It's fast!

- [quietly] What the fuck you talkin' about?!

Ricky, what are you doing? We can't!

[sentimental music]

- Oh, hey! - Hey, boys! Ricky!

Oh, God bless your heart! - God bless you, man!

You happy? - Yeah, I'm really happy.

- Happy to be alive? - I love livin', man.

- You feelin' good? - Yeah, I'm doin' alright.

WOMAN: Where is he? Where's my Dougie?

- Oh, shit, yo, Doug, your mom's here.

- Dougie! - DOUG: Debbie!

- Baby! Oh, what happened?

Oh, Dougie, baby!

DOUG: He came! DEB: Are you okay?

What happened?

[loud smooching]

TYSON: I mean, it's pretty obvious.

He broke both his ankles like the reet he is.

- Tyson! - What?

It takes a frickin' douche-hole to get his fuckin' legs

broken by a locker.

- Baby boy! - Just hit a locker.

- Doug, I didn't know you had a brother.

- Yeah, right!

If this bag of bones was my brother,

I'd off myself the day I was born.

- Alright, have a NutriGrain and zip it!

- Mom!

Thank you...

DOUG: Tyson's actually my stepson.

- Um...

- But aren't you older than your dad, or-?

- That is not my dad!

He's just a leech who takes advantage of older women!

- It's not even like that.

- I'm only here 'cause I need a ride to ball hockey,

which, guess what? I'm late for!

- Well, I got somethin' to say to you!

You're supposed to make sure that my Dougie gets home

in one piece!

- Yeah, I got you.

- In a fuckin' box.

- Oh, no! - I don't care.

DEB: Tyson Bartholemew Johnson!

I've had it up to here with your fuckin' attitude!

TYSON: Just gimme the car and I'm outta here.

- Baby, I'm so sorry. - It's okay.

- I'm sorry. - Oh, gimme a little sugar.

- I'm gonna drop him off. - BOTH: Mmm...

[loud smooching]

- I'm gonna drop him off.

- Okay. - Mm-hm? Okay?

And then I'm gonna come right back, okay?

- Mmm... - Mmm!

[both moaning]

- Stop it. Stop it.

I don't like that.

- Okay, baby, I'll be right back.

Watch it, big guy!

- I'm watchin'. - I'm onto you!

Bye, baby, I love you. - I love you too, baby.

- I love you, baby! I love you more, baby!

- Oh, I love you everything. All of it.

- I love you. Bye, baby, okay.

- I love you with all my body. - I love you, too. Bye, baby.

- Fuckin' piece of shit.

- That's your girl?

- Every last bit of her.

- Yo, God bless your cougar, bro.

That shit was... that shit was inspiring.

- I'm tellin' you, man.

Cougars are the best thing in this world

besides air and water.

- I mean, it looks pretty tough to have an adult son

and shit, but she seems worth it.

- Yeah, he's alright, you know...

- [sentimental music] - Family's what you make it.

It's what you need it to be, y'know?

It makes me a better man.

- Hmm. - A stronger man.

- Yeah. - Yeah.

- [quietly] A richer man...

- Richer, huh...?

Damn.

That's inspiring, Doug, for real.

- No worries, boys. - You have no idea.

- Thanks for being here for me, eh?

- Of course, man. I got you. - You too, Ricky.

- Bye, Dougie. - See you guys.

- Next week? - See you guys.

- Alright, buddy.

- Hey, did you guys actually blow up a van?

[ominous music]

'Cause I can keep a secret...

EVERETT: No.

- [thud] - ARMOND: See?

[thud]

No matter what you do,

Armond has the short cuts.

You didn't listen to me. All I need is your trust.

- I guess it is okay. - Um, one last thing, actually.

Um...

Do you think you can maybe drop me home?

Because, um, one of my wife's favourite activities

is to actually take my car.

And she has a car.

- Yeah, sure. - Okay.

I'm gonna get my toolbox now, then.

- Okay. - Okay.

You just need to trust me.

- Don't kiss me, man!

[sentimental music]

[wood creaking]

[thud]

Okay...

[loud crash]

KAVEH: I fucking knew it, Armond!

ERIC: Boss, if I just park close,

he won't even see it.

?

Ah...

?

[truck beeping]

HASSAN: Ooh, ahh! My foot is cramping!

- What's happening? What's happening!

- Ahh, my foot's crampin'!

[loud crash]

ERIC: What the fuck, yo?!

What the fuck?!

HASSAN: Why's this guy yellin'?

- What do you mean, why? The car!

- It's the boots. - What?

- It's the boots! - My fuckin's dad's whip, bro!

- It's the boots! - Fuck, bro!

My dad's whip!

HASSAN: My bad!

EVERETT: Oh, fuck.

- So... how did it go?

- Pretty sure that Omerta guy took, like,

half our scrap metal, but we got it done.

Oh, yeah, we gotta take Doug off the schedule, too.

- If we keep giving these guys days off,

you're gonna start asking me to come to site!

And I have no upper body strength.

EVERETT: Well, he has no ankles.

Both of his ankles shattered under the weight of a locker.

It was fucked. - Oh, shit.

- But he's in good hands. He has a cougar and shit, so...

CARLA: And Michael is getting deported, right?

- Oh, yeah. I actually thought of somethin'

to get this grant investigator off our back.

- I'm listening...

- Okay, so if we really, really, really want this guy

to stay in Canada, there are other ways.

- I'm not marrying Michael.

- No, not you. Me.

- Wait...

- No, no, I mean, like, I'ma adopt him.

I'ma adopt him!

Think about it.

- Uh, okay, okay, so you're gonna be a dad

and your son is a 27-year-old Nigerian?

- Yeah, 27, 25, 22, 16.

He's 16.

- Okay...

MICHAEL: Carla...

If you can take me off de schedule, please.

Boss, thank you.

For everything.

I really appreciate you.

If you don't see me here tomorrow,

they have sent me back to Nigeria.

- What if I told you you're not goin' anywhere...

Son?

[sentimental music]

- What? - I'm gonna adopt you.

Because family is anything you need it to be.

DOUG: [echoey voice] What you need it to be...

- Boss, you are going to be my fatha?

I'm going to be your son?

EVERETT: Yes, sir, my son.

Welcome home, Michael.

Welcome home.

?

- God oh...

- What's goin' on?

- Uh... you're an uncle now!

- I'm about to have a son. - For real?

- Yep. - What the hell! When?

Congrats, B. - In a couple months.

He's right there.

- Uncle Eric! - What the fuck?

- Yeah, I'm adoptin' him,

so he doesn't have to leave Canada.

Anyways, what's up with you?

- Oh, yeah. Carla, can you just take me off the schedule?

- For what? When? What? What?

- Oh, yeah. I quit.

So, there's that.

- Thanks for the fuckin' heads up! What do you mean?

- Gettin' outta here.

- Uncle Eric? - Don't call me that.

And Hassan crashed the car.

[keys clinking]

- What do you mean? - He backed the truck-

- The truck?! - The truck into Dad's-

- [kicks the desk]

What do you mean you crashed Dad's car?

- Kickin' shit. You're scarin' me.

- Backed up into my dad's car? Dad's car?

- That was all you, 'cause you tossed me the keys and said,

"Go take the car." - Bro, I was here,

you were in the driver's seat. I had nothin' to do with that.

I didn't even have the keys. How is it my fault?

- 'Cause you threw me the keys. - 'Cause you caught them.

- This is exactly why I quit. It's too much-

- Oh, no, you're fired. - Hmm?

- Perfect. Perfect timing.

Be here when Dad comes back askin'

"Where the fuck my car is?"

- Oh, no. You have the keys.

- Actually, when you goin' home? I'm gonna need a ride.

- Yo, take your damn cowboy boots

and fuckin' jump on a horse.

[horse neighs]

?

?

?

LENNOX: And I'm always in the area...

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