Original subtitles

- [Crowd]: Aw!

[Whistle blows]

- [Player]: All right, boys, here we go!

- So, Huntsie, how long does it take you

to get your hair like that?

- About 4 hours.

- It's nice.

Somebody thinks you look like

Stevie Wonder on steroids, but I like it.

- Fuck you! - Ooh!

Look at that face pussy that rookie gave you.

Come on!

[Crowd cheering]

- [Doug]: I think I nailed him.

♪♪ Last Sunday morning

♪ The sunshine felt like rain ♪

♪ The week before

♪ They all seemed the same

♪ With the help of God and true friends ♪

♪ I've come to realize...

- [Patrons]: Oh! Ah!

- [Commentator]: Vicious slash!

- Doug! Get to work!

- [Commentator]: ...Ross Rhea!

- It says here that you have brown eyes.

Come on!

You actually have blue eyes in real life.

- I'm not paying anything!

[Grunts]

- I'm really sorry, man. - Fuck...

- What's the problem, Jerry?

- I didn't win anything!

- That's because it's a jukebox, Jerry.

♪ Go on downtown, baby

♪ And find somebody to love

♪ Meanwhile, I ain't wasting time no more ♪

♪ 'Cause time goes by like pouring rain ♪

♪ And much faster things...

[Birds chirping]

♪ Running after subway trains... ♪

- Your tie, son. - Thank you.

Mr. and Mrs. Goldsmith, you guys look too young.

Bring your IDs next time, or I can't let you in.

- What the hell you talking about?

- Barbara, meet Dr. and Mrs. Glatt.

- Hi. - How do you do?

- Nice to meet you.

- And their doctor son, Ira.

- Hi. - Pleasure.

- [Barbara]: Great to meet you.

- Oh, Albee, this is my youngest son, Doug.

- Hello. Ah! - Oh, I'm sorry.

- So, Ira, have you got a main squeeze?

A handsome surgeon, I bet you're batting them off.

- My squeeze is late, actually.

- Your dad thought you were single.

- What do I know?

[Chuckles]

- So what Ivy League school are you hiding at, Doug?

- Doug did not follow in the family vocation.

He's, um...

- I bounce. - [Albee]: Like a basketball?

[Horn honking]

- Richard!

[Ira laughs]

Hi! Oh!

- [Dr. Glatt]: They're very close friends.

- [Albee]: That's quite the couple, Glatt.

Is he Jewish?

- Ah! Come on, stop!

Stop blowing my hat, wind!

- For the record, they're both adopted.

♪ Well, by and by

♪ Way after many years have gone ♪

♪ And all the war freaks die off ♪♪

- Yes, there he is! Oh, handsome bastard!

Come on in! Come on in!

- Thanks.

[Siren wailing]

- Tell me you saw what Rhea did last night.

- It was a pretty brutal chop.

- I've never seen Rhea lose his shit like that before.

He got suspended for 20 fucking games,

Boston sends him down to St. John's.

He's 40 years old.

That's it. He's fucking done, son!

All right then. Welcome toHot Ice.

Tonight, we have Ross Rhea's apology.

- To Daryl and his family,

I'm deeply sorry for what happened out there,

for what I did.

- Jesus, look at him. It's pathetic!

- I have no excuse. I don't--

- Ah, Jesus Christ!

I can't stomach this shit anymore.

It fucking kills me to see him like this.

I'll probably feature it on next week's Hot Ice,

unless that motherfucker Sully from Worcester calls in again.

Last week, he called in pretending that

he was from some sweepstakes.

He told me I'd won the grand prize

of 50 cocks in my mouth.

He goes, I have the option of sucking all 50 at once

or one a month for 50 fucking months.

Fuck, I'm sorry.

I didn't mean to bring you down, pal.

- Oh, no, no. I...

I don't have a thing, you know?

Like, you have your show.

And my dad and my brother, they have their doctor thing.

I don't got a thing.

Everybody's got something but me.

- Would it help that I want you inside me?

That I want you to make lemonade in my chocolate factory?

Hey? Fuck this fucking sad shit!

Let's just go watch the Assassins

kick the shit out of Oshawa.

I'll fill your big thick ass full of fucking corndogs.

[Crowd cheering and shouting]

Fuck you, Oshawa!

- [Man]: Hey!

- Ladies and gentlemen, this is only the first period.

I am predicting that this fucking game

becomes an absolute ass-raping

that only the likes of fucking Ned Beatty or,

potentially, the cast of Ozcan comprehend.

Dougie, any thoughts? - This is fun. Tasty treats.

- What the fuck is that shit?

- Get in the fucking box! Get in!

- Go fuck yourself!

- Fucking bye-bye, bitch! - Fuck you!

- Michael! Welcome to Irishtown, motherfucker!

- What the fuck?

Want a piece of me, you little fucking faggot?

- Hey, my brother's gay.

- That's it! Fuck it!

- What the fuck is this?

He's coming up here! - Come here, you faggot!

- Hey, my brother's...

[Slowed down, deep]: ...gay!

- Motherfucker!

[Thud]

Ah! - Oh!

Oh, attaboy, Dougie! Kick his fucking head in!

- Ah!

- Oh shit! - Holy fucking shit!

Look at that face period!

- See this over here! Look at this!

- You wanna take that word back?

- Fuck you, faggot!

- [All]: Oh!

- Yes! Yes!

[Crowd cheering]

Oh my God!

Doug, Doug, Doug!

- [Crowd chanting]: Doug, Doug, Doug!

[Imitating drum roll]

- That's my fucking boy!

Boner genocide!

I am pretty sure my fucking eyeballs just ejaculated.

- Pat, that's it!

- Tonight, we have

a very special fucking guest joining us:

Doug "The Thug" Glatt!

- I'm a big fan. It's a good show.

- Speaking of fans, let's go to the phones.

Caller, you're blowing Hot Ice.

- [Man]: Hi there. I was wondering if you like hot dogs.

- Huh! That's... - Yes, I like hot dogs.

- Great!

- But I prefer corndogs

because you don't need a bun for it.

Because the bun is all around it,

and you can eat it from a stick.

- You like hot dogs 'cause you like cocks in your mouth, son!

- You motherfucker! - Sully from Worcester!

[Sully shouting, indistinct]

- Dammit! Fuck you, Gus and Brian!

You motherfuckers!

You're supposed to screen this shit!

- Fuck this! I'm done!

- I've had enough of you

and your fucking sweater-vest police-state censorship, OK?

[Phone ringing]

Hi there! You are the final caller ever on Hot Ice.

- Hi, this is Rollie Hortense.

I'm the head coach of the Orangetown Assassins.

- Yeah? Go fuck yourself!

- Patty, do me a favour. Let me talk to your buddy Doug.

Doug, you impressed the hell out of me last night,

and a lot of other people too.

- Thank you.

You impress me a hell of a lot too.

- I'll be direct.

What I want you to do is come down to the rink tomorrow

and come out for a tryout.

You think about it, OK? Tomorrow at 2:30.

- OK. Yeah.

I hope to see you there tomorrow at 2:30.

[Whispering]: Where?

- You guys really shine in the fucking morning!

- Dougie! Dougie!

- Doug!

Come on out here, son.

- Come on!

- Who the fuck is this guy?

Jesus Christ!

Wow, nice wheels, boy.

- Stop being mean to my friend!

They're his gay brother's!

[Players laughing]

What? Have you never seen figure skates before?

- Oh!

- Hey. - Howdy.

- [Players]: Oh! - Fuck!

- I don't know what you sweethearts are all laughing at.

One and nine the last time I checked,

so shut the fuck up and let this guy have his shot.

- You're not actually

gonna let this guy join the team.

You know you're not joining

the fucking Ice Capades, right, buddy?

- You're not trying out for the--the...

The... Capades.

- [Mockingly]: Spit it out.

You're a big boy. Use your big boy words.

Uh! - Fuck it!

- [Player]: Oh!

[Rollie laughing]

[Roars]

- Shit! Oh, the kids!

Motherfucker!

Cocksucker!

[Whistle blows]

- Jesus Christ!

Holy lick, boy!

It's just too bad those are your teammates

that you fucked up out there.

- Oh, I'm sorry, sir.

- Of course, on the bright side,

those are your teammates that you fucked up out there.

What do you say, son? You wanna be an Assassin?

- Yes, yes.

- What number you wanna wear? - 69!

Take the number 69!

It's hilarious!

- Is that number taken?

- Dig it in now! Dig it in!

That's OK.

You gotta be shitty to get better. Push, push, push!

You almost got it! I don't care if you go down.

[Crowd cheering]

♪♪ I got no time for living

♪ Yes, I'm working all the time... ♪

[Grunts]

- Glatt! Glatt!

- Excuse me.

Shit!

- Let's go!

♪ They call me the working man... ♪

Hey, pretty good! Pretty good!

Way, way, way, better!

♪ They call me the working man... ♪

[Whistle blows]

- Whoa!

[Wolf whistle]

- Ross "The Boss" motherfucking Rhea.

He is the master. All right, Fucking Guys Up 101.

You see what Rhea's doing?

Grab them on the meat right there.

Nothing's coming through and you're fucking tiring out.

Pow! Bam!

I lure you in by beating the fuck out of you.

When you come in close to stop the fucking onslaught,

boom, uppercut!

- [Crowd chanting]: Doug, Doug, Doug!

- $6,000 off!

- $5,000 off!

- The Thug hates crappy cars!

[Crowd whistling and cheering]

- Sorry, bud.

- You're gonna fuck somebody up real good, kiddo.

♪ They call me the working man ♪

♪ I guess that's what I am ♪

- Coach, you wanted to see me?

- Oh yeah! Hey, Doug.

Yeah, come on in. Grab a chair.

I've got something I wanna discuss with you.

I am truly fucking proud of you.

- I'm truly fucking proud of you.

- Imagine if you played in a league

where they actually played hockey.

Your talent's wasted here.

- I--I don't know if I have any talent.

- You've been touched by the fist of God,

for Christ's sake!

- Thank you, sir.

- I've got a brother, Ron.

He's the coach and general manager

of the Halifax Highlanders.

I've told him about you,

and I think you can really help him out.

It all starts with this player he's got there,

Xavier Laflamme.

Holy shit, could this guy dance with the puck!

And he could put that cocksucker away too.

100% pure natural skill.

[Horn blaring, crowd cheering]

He ends up going number 2 overall.

And Montreal grabs him.

- Whoo! Number one!

- Fourth game of the season, it's the home opener... bam!

Ross "The Boss" Rhea. - Nice hit, eh?

- He suffers a 3rd-degree concussion.

He's lucky he wasn't killed.

Then he comes back. He's scared shitless out there.

[Crowd booing]

And the pressure's really starting to mount on this kid

and he really can't hack it.

He starts missing practices.

He starts hanging with the wrong people,

the rumours, the fuck tapes.

It all starts to add up.

He goes to the club and says he wants a trade.

They won't trade him. They send him down, Halifax.

He's with my brother.

- All right!

That's about all I can fucking stand, ladies!

You know why we're losing? 'Cause you're fucking shit!

- Doug, he wants to offer you a contract.

This is a farm club.

This is not some league where you're playing on a team

that's named after a radio station.

This is one step under the big league.

You go there. You watch Frenchie's back.

Maybe you could snap him out of his slump.

Maybe you can snap that whole team awake.

- Thank you so much!

- Hey, this is a great opportunity.

I'm so glad you see that.

- Did you draw that? - What?

- The wolf. - Yeah, of course.

- What's its name?

- Loopy.

Frame it and you can remember your days as an Assassin.

- Thanks for Loopy, coach.

- My cousin, Sherilyn, she works for this titty bar

up in Dartmouth called Night Court.

And she has this dance move she does

where she drags her jagged little coke nail

across her C-section scars.

She's been asking me to come up and watch her dance for ages.

And I've been telling her:

"That's kind of gross 'cause we're family."

But I don't actually find it that gross.

- Hmm! That's me here. - This one.

Dougie...

beat the shit out of some jackoffs for me.

- I'm gonna be OK, right?

- You're the fucking Thug!

You'll be wicked fucking awesome!

I love you, bud.

- I'll miss you, buddy. - I'll miss you.

Oh my God! Oh my God!

There he goes!

That's my friend! I know Doug "The Thug" Glatt!

I remember when his dick was

a tiny little fucking Christmas light!

[Grunting]

Ah!

[Purring]

Halifax! Halifax!

[Ship horn blaring]

[♪ Lord Kossity rapping Morenas in Spanish and French ♪]

[♪ Morenason sound system ♪]

- Hello?

Jesus!

[Voices in other room]

[Woman giggling]

Hello?

- [Xavier]: Fuck!

- Oh!

[Shouting in French]

I'm sorry. Nice to meet you.

- Close the fucking door! - Thank you for having me.

Hmm!

Oh...

- Jesus, it's early!

- I'm Doug Glatt. - Gord Ogilvey.

- Nice to meet you.

- So, Dougie, you're the tough Yank

who beats the shit out of everyone.

- I don't know about that.

- Glad to have you here, bud.

- Thanks. I'm happy to be here.

- Oh fuck! Yeah, my wife left me.

Said she was sick of hockey.

Sick of hockey...

- I'm sorry.

- Well, it's pretty much the shitter.

[Sighs]

- No, thanks. Oh, so nice of you.

No, I'm good. Thanks.

- This here is Stevsie.

Anything you need, you tell me, he'll do it.

- Don't hesitate. Good to meet you.

- Nice to meet you. I'm Glug Datt. Doug Glatt.

- That's Parkey, left winger. Paying for his med school.

Asians are an industrious people.

I guess hockey is like math to him.

Icing the pucks are like equations, eh, Parkey?

- Where's my fucking helmet!

- Starting goalie Marco Belchior.

We call him Belchie. He's from Regina.

- Vagina? - He drinks hand sanitizer.

- What's so fucking funny giggly bits?

[Holding back laughter]

- We have your mama right here. - Oh yes!

- Look at this beautiful smile!

- There she is!

- Say hello.

- Oh! Let's go fuck your mother!

What? Yes! - Oh, hump her head!

Just like a Belchior!

- You fucking Chernobyl motherfuckers!

- Your mother's pussy's so fucking tight!

No way a baby come out there!

No way! You adopted!

- I'm on your team!

Anybody else see this shit?

- Oh, what a woman!

- I love you, Mama.

- You might want to wash it before you put on.

- Hi, I'm Doug Glatt.

- Don't.

- Two rules, man:

Stay away from my fucking Percocets,

and do you have any fucking Percocets, man?

- All right. - [Marco]: OK!

- What about Laflamme? Where's he at?

- Probably giving some single mother herpes

in a parking lot.

- Oh sure.

♪♪ Yo

♪ Yeah, unh

♪ Yeah, that's the shit right here ♪

♪ Yeah, this makes me wanna kill somebody ♪

♪ Turn this shit up

[In headphones]: ♪ Real fucking loud

♪ Drinkin' the bile out your pancreas... ♪♪

- [Ogilvey]: OK, boys, let's go!

Give it 121% tonight!

- [Woman, off-key]: ♪♪ God keep our land

♪ Glorious and free

♪ O Canada

♪ We stand on guard for thee

- ♪ Thee

- [Woman]: ♪ O Canada

♪ I stand on guard

♪ With you

- ♪ ... thee ♪

- Well, that was borderline treasonous

and a disgrace to our nation

and its proud and storied history.

My father didn't kick the Nazis--

And the puck drops! Face-off win by Hamilton.

Schaffer chips it back to Hall.

Jefferson of the Steelers in front of the net.

Get's a chance, takes the shot! - Shut out tonight, man!

- Save Belchior! Now Sacco dishes to Ogilvey.

Laflamme still looking to find his game.

Ogilvey to Laflamme. Oh, he dodged a bullet there!

- Oh, come on, Laflamme! Grow a set!

- Come on, boys! Work those corners!

- Come on! Work those corners!

Let's keep it together!

- Don't pinch! - Halifax pinches in...

- Centre! Centre!

- [Commentator]: Johnson gets it over.

Here's the shot! He scores!

- Oh fuck!

[Cheering]

- Five hole! - Five hole!

- Ass licker! Am I the only one here?

You Slavic fucking borscht-blooded

cabbage-headed motherfuckers, man!

Why don't you just stop the puck in your big vagina,

you Russian lesbian!

- Get your hands out of your ass, eh? Jesus!

- [Player]: Come on, boys!

- [Ronnie]: Man on, Kimmy, man on!

- Now Kim goes into the corner.

[Whistle blows, crowd booing]

- Come on! What the fuck?

- He won't be heard from till next week!

- You gotta make that call! That's a fucking elbow, Howard!

- [Player]: The doctor needs a doctor.

- Bullshit!

[♪ Chargeon organ ♪]

OK, No. 6, you light him up.

[Whistle blows]

- Look, I got it.

Just get lost. I got it!

- Looks like Ronnie Hortense is looking for

a little spark to ignite his team.

And that spark is in the person of Doug Glatt.

And what a spark he'll be!

[Whistle blows]

- Come on, you fucking pussy!

- I got it. - Come on!

- Who the fuck are you?

What's up, bitch? You want some?

[Whistle blows]

- Knock him out.

- [Commentator]: Ho, doctor! What a debut!

[Crowd cheering]

- Fucking rights!

[Fans whistling]

[Inaudible]

[Inaudible]

- Did you know that cows only meow when people are around?

It's true. - I read that in Cat Fancy.

- What are these doing here?

Gone!

[Laughs]

Here's a little dose. A little dose.

Here we are!

It's time to welcome...

- Hi, guys.

- [Stevenson]: Doug. - ...Doug officially...

- Through an initiation. It's gonna be good.

- [Doug]: So, uh, what do I have to do?

[Burping]

- Oh shit! - Fuck!

- Sleep peaceful, old wanderer.

- We should sign his dick.

Everyone sign his dick.

- What's happening here? - What's the matter?

Huh? You have a little puss-puss?

Mommy whipped up a pussy pot pie, huh!

- Let's see what's going on over there.

- Show us your dick.

- I don't want you to see my dick.

- Why you being gay?

- I think you're fucking being pretty gay.

- It's not gay! - Not if you're brothers.

- If you're brothers,

it's gay with a dash of something else.

- My gay brother doesn't even do that.

- I've played hockey my whole life.

I never signed a dick.

- I'll sign your dick.

[♪ Rap on stereo ]

- Oh, come on! Fuck! You fucked the carpet!

- Oh, I'm sorry. I can take my shoes off, yeah?

- No, no, it's fine. Who gives a fuck?

- Thanks.

- Excuse me.

Hey!

[Whistles]

Come on, sit.

- Oh yeah? - Yeah.

- Thanks. That's cool.

- Pot?

- No. Thank you so much for asking me.

Beer and soup, that's my thing.

- You're a crazy motherfucker, huh?

Tabarnac!Bam!

You fucking beat him.

- [Laughing]: Really? - Yeah!

- Thank you.

- Yeah! Why did you do that?

- What do you mean?

- Why do you help and protect these guys?

You don't even know these guys.

- Well, the coach puts me out there to fight.

That's my job.

I like standing up for my team, you know.

I take care of--

[Laughing]

- "Team!"

You just wait. Wait one month.

Then you tell me if you feel the same.

I don't think so.

The fucking team!

[Laughing]

- What are those?

- Have you ever jerked off on ecstasy?

- I'm sorry?

- Bonne nuit!

- Bonne nuit...

- Come on, boys! Let's go!

Fresh sheet of ice. Breathe it in!

- Come on! Breathe in that fresh air.

Come on! You're men! Men!

- [Commentator]: Penalty winding down

in front of a good crowd here

in this game between the Laval Kings and...

- Here we go!

- Come on, Dougie!

Steve-O, go out for Dougie.

- I got it! Coach, I'm doing it!

- Two on one! Doug, come on!

- No, no, Steve-O. Get back, get back!

Fuck! He's got his hand up already.

It's gonna be too many men on the ice.

- [Commentator]: Here come the Kings with a man advantage.

Delayed penalty. They score!

- Jesus! And the donkey motherfucked it up!

Get off the ice, Glatt!

Why are you on the fucking ice, man?

- I've heard this song before, folks.

In fact, on my wedding night.

- Go to the end of the bench.

- Our bashful bride Glatt

can't wear white anymore.

- You know why there was too many men on the ice?

'Cause you stayed on the ice. Change it up.

You stay there until I tell you to move.

- Idiot.

- Unbelievable, Glatt.

Nice work, rookie. Come on, let's go!

Fuck!

That was the closest we have come

to winning a fucking hockey game in over a month

and you just fucked us!

You fucked us!

You're not here to play hockey.

You're here to fight.

[Laflamme laughing]

Hey, pretty boy! You find that funny?

Funny ha ha?

Like flushing-a-$5 million- contract-up-your-nose funny?

Or funny peculiar, like Doug there?

You get your shit together.

'Cause your shit stinks, Pepé Le Pew.

It fucking stinks!

- After serving his 20-game suspension,

Ross Rhea was sent down to Boston's affiliate in the EMHL,

the St. John's Shamrocks.

The same team where he started his career.

A career a lot of people believe is coming to a close.

- This is where I started out. This is where I'm from.

I suppose it's as good a place as any for me to end up.

- Rhea is a repeat offender,

having sat out 12 games after his infamous headshot

on Xavier Laflamme 3 years ago.

The league is sending a clear message

that it'll no longer tolerate this behaviour.

- No, yeah, I know. You're breaking up.

No, we're not breaking up.

You're breaking up. I can't hear--

♪♪ Baby...

What? No, I'm here.

What? No, it's still shit.

You still sound like a fucking cyborg.

How? You're in China.

No, I'm sorry. Fuck!

I said, we'll talk tomorrow.

Me too.

Fuck! I need a drink.

- Eva? Hey, Eva baby.

Are you on a date with this loser?

Mind if I cut in with my beautiful dong!

- Oh fuck! What the fuck!

[Laughing]

You moron!

- Here. You can use this like a towel to dry off.

It's made from the same material

they make snowsuits out of.

[Laughing]

♪ Baby ♪

Man, I'm wasted.

Eva, I really like your name.

- Yes, sir. It's a great name.

Like the Bible,

just with a bit more, kind of, mustard on it.

- I think it's a pretty name,

like your face.

You got a pretty name and a pretty face.

- Aw, you're very nice to me.

Fuck it. Doug...

- Uh-huh?

- I dig hockey players.

The shit, the violence, the beer, all of it.

I fucking love it.

- [Patrons]: Aw!

- Sad.

- Wanna get outta here? - Yes, please.

- Let's rally.

- You're so pretty.

You're so beautiful.

[Laughs]

I'm sorry. It's... I keep saying that.

I'm sorry.

- It's fine. I think it's cute.

[Giggles]

Who doesn't like being told they're beautiful?

Mmm, this is me.

- OK.

I like you though.

- You do, eh?

- Yes, ma'am.

- Eva likes Doug.

Eva likes you.

- What does Eva think about kissing?

- Which type? - French?

[Pizza box hitting ground]

- Oh fuck!

- Um, hey, uh...

What do you think about me calling you sometime?

- I don't know whether that's the best idea,

this shit.

- Uh, why don't you give me your number,

and I promise that I'll never call you.

- Yeah?

- Yeah.

- OK.

- Perfect.

[Laughing]

- I love that!

- Bye, Doug.

- Bye, Eva.

I'm gonna watch you walk up the stairs

and make sure that you're safe.

- Safe.

- Good night. - Good night.

[Cat meowing]

- All right, boys, listen up! We're still in this thing.

We just need a quick one.

- Listen up, cash!

- We gotta work harder than them, OK?

- Get harder than them, guys.

- You know what's hard work? Going through a divorce.

She's trying to get all my money now.

She can have half of it. I don't give a shit.

The other half: hard work, mine!

Some guys on their team are fucking divorced.

Three guys there whose fucking marriages

are in the fucking toilet.

- We're playing divorced guys. - Yeah.

- We gotta be fucking triceps, biceps, R-ceps hard!

- Hard!

- Greek fucking underground gay-porn hard!

- [Stevenson]: You're all Adonises.

- Highlanders, gay-porn hard!

- Gay-porn hard!

- Wheelers win the face-off. It goes back to Emerson.

Emerson moves up the wing. Looks across, finds Jones.

Jones now flips it up the right side.

Stevenson! Here's Mason who works it up the boards.

Let's loose! He scored!

- Where's the pride?

- Yeah! - Nobody wants to play?

Nobody wants to play?

Laflamme.

- I'm sorry, coach.

OK, Siegfried. Let's go, Roy!

Eye of the fucking tiger!

- Ogilvey wins the face-off, takes it back into his own zone.

Now circling in the neutral zone,

looking for home.

- For fuck's sake, kid! Stop staring at me.

You're weirding me out. - I'm sorry, sir.

- [Commentator]: Here comes Laflamme,

trying to squeeze by Oldfield.

- You fucking diver!

- Come on! - Come on!

- That better be 4 minutes, ref.

[Whistle blows]

- You're dead meat! Fuck off!

Hey, Glatt, you little fucking dickweed!

You try any of that shit you did against Hamilton on me,

I'll light your fucking ass up.

- Hey! I'll light your ass back up on fire.

- It's time to make up for your mistake.

Look at the penalty clock.

And when I say, you get over there.

Stand in front of that box and wait for that bugger.

- Yes, sir.

- Do exactly what I say.

- Yes, sir. Of course.

- Exactly what I say. You got it?

Nothing else.

Windsor moves the puck out of their zone.

Penalty's winding down. Here's Patrick, for Black.

Broken up by York, knocked it down.

It comes up the backboard. It's brought right back.

- [Ronnie]: Kimmy, get off! Get off!

Go, go, go! Skate!

Go, Glatt. Don't deviate! Exactly like I said.

- You want a piece of me? - Hi.

- You fucking pussy. I am gonna fuck you up, Glatt!

Fuck you!

You fucking take it, you motherfucker!

You... little... bitch!

- What are you doing? Fucking hit him!

[Crowd cheering]

[Air horns blaring]

- [Stevenson]: All right, Dougie!

- OK, Glatt, keep moving.

Keep moving. Get in the box.

Keep it moving.

[Giggling]

- But I--I just miss you.

I really miss you both.

Please don't give up on me.

[Vibrating]

- Oh, fuck me!

Hello?

- Eva? Heh! Hey!

This is Doug Glatt.

Your number is so similar to my friend's number.

I didn't know which was which,

so I didn't wanna call my friend and then bother you.

I was just checking.

Simply checking the numbers out.

Hey, listen, I'm at the bar with my team.

I think some of your friends are gonna come.

I don't know if you wanna, like, you know, join us?

- Actually, I've been trying to cut my drinking down.

I'm trying to be a good girl. Trying.

- Well, you know, uh,

maybe you and I could hang out sometime,

you know, get, like, coffee?

- Um... sure.

- Great.

I don't drink coffee, but I like Gatorade.

And I like power drinks and water.

- Awesome.

- It doesn't even matter if I'm thirsty or not,

if I could just see you.

- That sounds cool.

- OK.

- OK. I'll see you then.

- Bye, Eva.

- Bye.

- YES!

- [Belchior]: Oh, you pinko Bolshevik ass-eaters, man!

- It is beach ball,

because you cannot even stop a fucking beach ball.

- Not nice!

- Beach ball is bigger than puck.

That's why joke is.

- Yeah, I fucking get it, man.

- Left to right, we know that.

Shut up!

- [Commentator]: So the score is tied with 2:52 left.

[Whistle blows]

Steve-O, Steve-O, come on!

No, no, no, sit down. Sit down.

Glatt!

- Who do I fight, coach? - Nobody.

Just park your ass in front of that goaltender and screen him.

Let's do this!

- Fuck!

- [Ronnie]: Let's go! Let's go!

- Oh, The Thug is coming in on a power play.

Do you believe in miracles?

- Thank you.

- [Commentator]: And the puck is dropped.

Glatt will head straight to the front of the net.

Puck goes back to the point. Kim with it.

Gets it over. Put it out in front.

Glatt is screening. All the action in front of the net.

Halifax winds it up. Here's a blast!

Kim scored!

[Horn blaring, crowd cheering]

- Whoo!

- [Commentator]: 3-2!

I don't think the Moncton goalie saw any part of that.

There was nothing but a wall of Glatt.

- [Ronnie]: Come on, boys! Ten seconds left now.

- Keep the wolves out of the barn. Eight seconds!

- Ferris shoots it up the boards to Lemieux.

- This guy's going glove.

This guy's going glove, Mother.

- He gets in across the line, takes the shot.

- Belchior save! Horatio at the bridge!

[Buzzer rings]

The game is over!

Halifax has broken the losing streak.

Their first win in a month.

Wow! What a show!

I'm gonna go crack some champagne

and make love to my old lady.

It'll be the first time, the best time, in a long time.

- That was fucking hockey, man!

- Oh, thank you. That's so nice.

[Crowd cheering]

♪♪ Good day to you...

[Exhales]

♪ Fat balloon man

♪ May you always have air...

Hey! Hi, Eva.

Wow, you look so pretty.

- I just have to go to the washroom. One sec.

- Yeah. OK.

[Exhales, sniffs]

♪ Good day to you...

Can I get a Gatorade?

♪ Uncle Tomcat ♪

Hey. Had to go potty?

- Look... I liked making out with you.

It was fun.

But what happened between us the other night,

it was a one-off.

I'm sorry.

I mean, Jesus, all we did was make out.

Uh, anyway, it was a mistake.

You're actually... nice.

And I'm a huge bitch.

- Eva! Don't say that.

- I'm a very bad girlfriend.

- Girlfriend?

- Yeah.

I have a boyfriend, which is awesome.

Fuck!

[Sighs]

- Jeez!

Well, I guess, uh, it'd be kind of weird

if I gave you these flowers.

- Oh man!

- And these chocolates.

[Sighs]

And this stuffed animal. It's a little doll.

It's not really a stuffed animal.

It's a stuffed Angus.

It's the mascot of the team I play for,

the Halifax Highlanders.

It's just a little toy, but it's official.

- For fuck's sake!

- No! It's hilarious.

It's a simple misunderstanding.

You know, I'm fine.

OK. Bye, Eva.

- Bye, Doug.

- It's official, the mascot.

- Fuck.

- Ah!

- Oh...

Fuck me, Angus.

- It's not the first time garbage blew in my face.

One time, my friends built this bike ramp

behind a medical centre.

It was really windy. I started pedalling really fast.

And as I was going up the ramp,

the wind blew these bloody rags, like, right into my face.

And I crashed into the dumpster

and started rolling around in the medical waste

'cause I was so disoriented.

I broke my ankle, like, in 3 places.

And the worst part was this big bag of pee.

And I rolled over on it.

And it, like, burst all over me.

[Laughing]

So you think it's funny too?

- Yes! Very much so.

- Garbage blows in my face sometimes.

[Laughing]

Thanks for the ride. It was good to see you.

- Doug...

Right. My boyfriend.

- Bye, Eva.

- Bye, Doug.

[♪ Man singing Nessun dorma♪]

[Buzzer ringing]

- Let's go, boys!

- Go get 'em, Dougie!

- Douglas Menahem Glatt!

Pret--pret--pretzel, bitches!

- Hey! What the hell!

- Recognize?

- Of course I recognize you!

- You recognize this big beautiful family of yours?

- This is amazing! I'm so happy.

- Glatt! What the fuck you doing?

Start skating. Shave some ice.

- Yeah. Love you, guys.

- We love you, Dougie!

- [Dr. Glatt]: Hey, he can skate!

- [Mrs. Glatt]: What's that on his shirt?

- It says your fucking name on the back.

- Language! Do you mind, Pat?

- He can't stop. It's like Tourette's.

- Hey, wanna go?

- Yeah, OK.

- Good luck, man. - Good luck, bud.

- The puck drops and, yes, we are gonna have a dustup.

- Oh, kick his fucking ass, Dougie!

- Punch for punch, neither giving an inch!

- Whoa... - Right, left, right, left!

- Nail him, Doug. - Both landing blows.

To the head, to the body, everywhere!

- Oh my-- Fuck!

- Oh God!

- That's it!

- Good fight, man. - Good fight.

He's a nice guy.

- [Crowd chanting]: Thug, Thug, Thug!

- Do you hear that?

- Just 1:04 left, score is tied.

Everything on the line here

as Halifax looks to extend their winning streak to four.

Now, a three on one develops.

Kim moves in. Kim lets the shot go!

- Ow! - To Glatt, he scored!

It was Doug Glatt in the conservatory with his ass!

And the young gun from Orangetown

they call The Thug has done it.

- Holy shit!

- And the Highlanders look like

they might just make a run for the playoffs after all.

- You make me happy, man! With your ass!

- My ass! - With your ass!

- My ass!

[Players whooping]

- Doug, Doug, Doug!

[Whistles]

- Well done, boys!

Tonight: good food, good women, good rest.

Not necessarily in that order.

Glatt! Laflamme!

Get changed. In my office.

Good job, boys. See you tomorrow morning.

- Way to go, Dougie!

This boy popped a cherry tonight.

- I popped my cherry. What does that mean?

- Boys...

- Coach.

- Well, one of you has really been impressing me

with your play lately,

and one of you hasn't.

Either one of you wanna venture to guess as to who's who?

OK, well, Laflamme,

I'm ripping that "A" off your jersey.

You don't deserve it, unless "A" stands for asshole,

which is the way you've been playing.

Glatt, you're promoted.

Assistant captain. Good on ya.

Keep up the good work.

There's the game puck. I'm proud of you.

- Thanks, coach.

- Xavier, you can take this the right way

or the wrong way, son.

Ladies' choice.

- Xavier...

- Go get him.

- Hey, bud, wait up.

- Oh my God, you scored!

Your fucking ass scored!

You son of a bitch! Look at you!

- You're gonna love this restaurant.

I know you like Middle Eastern food.

And Uncle Stevie, he's a good friend.

He's very robust.

- Holy fucking shit-ass! Dougie, you fucking scored!

You just fisted that motherfucker right in the ass.

Fuck! I'm so sorry.

I'm so fucking sorry, sir, ma'am.

- [Uncle Stevie]: There's the guy!

- Hey!

- Dougie, my friend. Good to see you as always, hey.

He's my top customer. Five times a week, I see you.

A pair of falafels this boy has on him.

I watched this guy fight 3 guys, knock out all their teeth.

Three guys! Four teeth!

One game! It was unbelievable.

I'm so excited. Fuck it!

Everybody, donair on the house tonight, huh?

[Customers cheering]

For you, anything, buddy.

Pardon me. Donair sauce on the house, everybody.

Don't get excited. Donair sauce.

- Ah! Thank you.

- Hey!

- That guy, he's awesome.

- Water down the donair sauce.

- Doug, think we can get anything for this on eBay?

- I don't think so.

No, I wanted to give this to Mom and Dad, actually,

if they wanted to see, just...

Here.

- Douglas, it's good to see

that you're having fun with this,

you know, hobby.

- It's not a hobby.

It's my job, Mom. Um, I'm a hockey player.

- Have thought at all about the head injuries

that come with playing such a violent sport?

The concussions?

- How long can you do this? - Mom...

- It's an infantile way for a man to spend his adult years.

- No, it isn't.

- You can do anything, except punch people, OK?

- No, I couldn't. - You can teach.

- No, I can't! OK?

I can't because I'm stupid. I'm stupid!

- Doug, you're not that stupid.

- I am.

I'm stupid. You're gay.

I'm stupid, and he's gay.

Stupid. Gay.

- We get it. - Stupid. Gay!

You have one stupid son. And you've got a gay son.

- Oh God...

- For once, I'm a part of something.

I get to wear a uniform

that doesn't have "security" on it.

Kids buy it and they wear it.

And it's got our name on it.

Now, for whatever reason,

you guys think that I can be smart enough to be a doctor.

I have fist smarts. Now, I can fight.

I'm strong. I can protect people.

That's who I am. This is what I do.

And you should be proud of me.

- We should be proud of you?

They call you Thug, for Christ's sake!

It might as well say "security"

on the back of your sweater.

Excuse me.

- Doug, I am proud of you. - Thanks, buddy.

- OK? But I'm gonna go with Mom and Dad, OK?

They've got my passport.

- Look, no disrespect intended, but, honestly,

fuck your parents if they don't fucking appreciate you, man.

Like, look at you. You're a fucking beast.

You're like the fucking Hebrew Dolph Lundgren

or some shit.

You don't get what I'm saying, do you?

Doug, watching you tonight

was like watching a bunch of fucking birds flying in a V.

It was instinct...

and purpose.

It was like you were doing what you were born to do.

I mean, Jesus Christ, Doug, look at your fucking fist.

It's, like, the size of my Uncle Murphy's prostate.

- I really feel like getting hammered right now.

- Let's get so fucking drunk

we see each other's donair sauce on the floor.

♪♪ So if you want

♪ To join me for a while

♪ Just grab your hat

♪ We'll travel light

♪ That's hobo style ♪

- [Xavier]: You don't know shit about hockey,

you bulimic Don Cherry!

- [Pat]: You spat in my face!

Fuck your Ed Hardy shirt!

- What the hell! Hey, hey! - He started it!

- Oh, come on! You're spitting everywhere!

- Your friend's sick!

- Oh yeah, says the fucking Frenchman!

You people live like animals!

- I hate spit! I hate it!

Oh!

- Fuck you!

[Door slamming]

- Ah...

- What's your problem?

- I'll tell you my problem.

How many minutes did you play tonight, huh?

- I don't know. Eleven. So?

- You skate like shit,

but you play 11 fucking minutes.

Who the fuck are you?

I'm a fucking hockey player.

You steal my A. You steal my power play.

You're a fucking goon!A thug!

You're fucking nothing!

[Moans softly]

- You are not a hockey player.

And the only reason why

I'm not knocking your teeth out right now

is 'cause you're on my team.

Do you have any idea what would happen

if I stopped watching your back?

- Yeah. It'd be like before you came.

I like that better.

[♪ Man singing on radio, indistinct ♪]

- We have not pissed together

since last time we double-teamed Belchior's mother, huh?

- Oh, and we pissed on her too.

- Oh!

[All laughing]

- You piss on my leg!

- All right, lads! All right.

We're in the shit now.

This is Quebec.

Get your fucking game faces on.

This is about to get ugly.

We've got 4 games left, boys. We only need two of them.

Shove your têtes carrées up their derrières

and rip their fucking hearts out!

Let's go get 'em, boys!

[♪ Les EÉkorchés singing D'la viande cé murs♪]

[All booing]

[Crowd cheering]

[Crowd booing]

[Crowd cheering]

- You're with me tonight, Mommy.

You are with me tonight.

- You feel the energy in this building?

Take that fucking energy onto the ice.

Doug, you'll shadow Laflamme the entire game.

You, Gord, Laflamme, you're starting.

Boys, we're in this fucking thing.

Now let's play like we're supposed to be here!

Let's go! - All right!

[Whistle blows]

- [Ronnie]: Dougie, on Laflamme! Stick to him!

- [Stevenson]: We're routing for you, Gordon!

We're all in this together.

When that puck drops, we all drop.

- Shut the fuck up!

- [Commentator]: Here we go! The fries are Frenched.

The cheese is curded. Let's pour some gravy on me...

- Câlisse! Drop the fucking puck!

- ...and dig in.

Halifax gets the face-off. Back to Laflamme.

He comes up ice with a full head of steam.

Simard lines up Laflamme. Laflamme avoids the check!

Simard flies into the boards.

Here's Laflamme moving up the right side,

heads toward the net.

Laflamme takes it to him! He scored!

- All right!

- The defenceman totally lost control.

- Fuck you!

- Nice job, bro!

[Crowd booing]

- Here's Laflamme, picks up the puck behind the net.

He starts away. He swings away from one check.

Now gets up to centre ice. - Gord!

- Takes a look, feeds the pass over.

- [Xavier]: Back, back, back!

- He gets it back again. Swings by another check.

Walks in!

- [Kim]: Man on, man on!

[Crowd cheering]

- Hey! What the fuck? Dougie!

- Glatt was looking the other way.

[Whistle blows]

- Get him off!

- That's it, Dougie!

[Roaring]

[Panting]

- [Commentator]: They're calling for the stretcher.

This is getting scary, folks.

[Team shouting, indistinct]

- Jesus Christ.

- Easy, boys.

Xavier, look at me.

- OK, he's got a concussion. He may not be back at all.

And for what you did to Simard, you've been suspended.

We're lucky it's only one game.

You know what, Glatt? This team counts on you.

Whatever it is that is making you fucking ovulate,

you'd better figure it out quick

and get your fucking shit together!

And for those of you who think you've got no practice tomorrow:

6:00 a.m., bag skate, pussies!

I wanna see every single one of you

work your fucking asses off until you puke your guts out!

This is not fucking baseball!

Do you wanna make the playoffs or not?

Goddammit! And Glatt!

I see you.

You're riding piss hole.

Back of the bus.

Roll it out, George.

[Engine starting]

♪♪ Well, we fly by night It's like a rocket flight ♪

♪ And, baby, that's just what it's for ♪

♪ We fly by night

♪ It makes you feel all right ♪

♪ You keep coming back for more ♪

[Vibrating]

♪ Four men in a rock'n'roll band ♪

♪ Fly at night

♪ In the morning, we'll land ♪♪

- I can't really talk right now. That's why I was texting you.

- I'm sorry. I'm such a moron.

So you saw my head-butt, huh?

- [Whispering]: Yeah. You fucked him up.

- [Whispering]: Are you at the library?

- No, um...

My boyfriend got home a few days ago.

- Why did you text me then?

- I dig talking to you.

And now I'm thinking about you.

And sometimes,

I sleep with that Angus the Highlander doll.

- There's nothing weird about that. It's official.

- Yeah, Doug. I know.

Fuck.

I'm a bad girlfriend, Doug.

- Well, I mean, all we did was make out.

- I'm a slut, Doug.

I'm horny a lot.

I sleep around.

- Oh, OK.

- That doesn't bother you?

- The truth is, I just...

I have a really huge crush on you.

- I gotta go, Doug.

[Toilet flushing]

[Door bells jingling]

- Hello, sir. My name is Doug Glatt.

- Ross Rhea. Nice to meet you, kid.

- Nice to meet you too. - Sit down.

- Thanks.

- So you're the new me, eh?

[Chuckles]

- I don't know about that. I don't think so.

- Everyone else seems to.

It's good. Good for you, kid.

- Thank you.

- So what are you doing wandering around St. John's

at 3:00 in the morning?

Aren't you guys playing us tonight?

- Well, yeah, but, uh, not me.

I got suspended a game.

- Too bad.

I ain't much for waiting around.

You're a tough little bastard out there.

You can fucking bang.

- Thank you. Thanks so much.

- I'm gonna impart some of the wisdom of my years on you.

- I could use some of that.

- Everybody loves the soldiers

until they come home and stop fighting.

You understand what I'm saying?

- Hmm, I don't know. No.

- Kid, you got this thing, the stuff,

the shit, the fucking grip.

You got it, like me.

But like me, that's all you fucking got.

And like me, you're no good to anyone doing anything else.

All I'm saying is don't go trying to be a hockey player.

You'll get your fucking heart ripped out.

- But I am a hockey player, sir.

- You're a fucking goon.

- That plays hockey, like you.

- I don't play much hockey.

- You're a hockey player, sir.

- You know they just want you to bleed, right?

[Sighs]

- Well, I'm here to do whatever they need me to do.

You know, if they need me to bleed,

then I'll bleed for my team.

- Yeah.

I suppose you heard I'm gonna retire

at the end of the season.

I've been at this since I was 17.

But I'll be damned if I'm gonna go out

like some nancy boy middle-aged fuck.

You understand?

- Yeah, I understand.

- You have my respect.

Whatever that means to you, you got it.

But know this shit hard.

If ever there comes a time when it gets down to the marrow

and it's you and me, kid,

I will lay you the fuck out.

[Crowd cheering and applauding]

Come here, you piece of shit! Get the fuck over here!

[Laughs]

Everyone knows what I'm here for.

- [Man]: To kick fucking ass!

[Crowd cheering]

- That's right. I fight.

I fight for my team.

If they need me to bleed, then I bleed.

[Crowd cheering, air horns blaring]

I started my career here in St. John's.

I think it's only fitting that I'm winding it up here.

That being said, I still got some fight in me left.

What do you say, boys? Let's go to the playoffs.

Give the old man one last shot at a ring.

How about it, eh? God bless Newfoundland!

[Crowd cheering]

- It's a rough, physical game tonight.

Both teams jockeying for the 8th and final playoff spot

in the East.

- I'm open!

- Stevenson calling for the puck.

He's absolutely levelled by Rhea!

- Where's the call?

- They shoot! They scored!

St. John's has taken an early lead.

Rhea absolutely running over the poor Highlanders.

It's anarchy on the ice.

- Cheap shot, Rhea. No need.

- Take it.

I'm gonna fight you, man.

- Oh, come on, Gord.

You know how this ends.

- No shit.

All right, come on.

- Are you sure?

[Whistle blows]

- Come on, Gord.

- Whoa, whoa!

[Crowd cheering, air horn blaring]

- Shit!

- I can do this all night, boys.

- Gord Ogilvey getting into only the 3rd fight

of his entire career.

- Yeah, if I want any lip from you, I'll rattle my zipper.

- [Commentator]: "A" for effort, captain.

And "D" for Doug Glatt.

Are you there, Doug? It's me, Margaret!

♪♪ Rain, rain, rain showers

[Sighs]

♪ So glad that you came ♪

- Xavier, are you up?

I'm an idiot.

From now on, no matter what happens,

if you wanna punch me in the face

or spit in my mouth while I'm asleep,

it doesn't matter.

I'm always gonna be watching your back.

I think that we both have a light in our stomachs.

A special light, like ET.

And the team needs somebody to light the way.

My stomach light needs your stomach light.

We can all phone home together.

- Two home games left in the season, both must wins.

If they don't, they'll be on the golf course early.

And that doesn't sound quite so bad to me.

Eighteen holes and a Reuben.

Here come the Highlanders!

[Whistle blows]

- Glatt, what the fuck! Hockey!

Head up, head up, head up! Go, go, go, go!

Glatt! What are you doing?

- The Highlanders start out of their own zone.

Pass over to Laflamme. He takes it along the boards.

He's run into by Finnerty.

- Fuck! - And now Glatt comes in.

[Crowd cheering]

- [Crowd chanting]: Thug, Thug, Thug!

- Hey, man.

Nice fight.

Puck! Puck!

- Now the puck back in the Highlanders' zone.

And the Highlanders bring it away.

Here's Laflamme. He moves in over to Glatt.

Glatt duffs the shot, gets it back to Laflamme.

Laflamme walks-- He scores!

Laflamme scores the goal with an assist going to Glatt.

- Whoo-hoo!

- Nice one, Dougie!

- Nice assist, man.

- Thanks.

- 69! Doug!

69! Yeah!

- Well, it has come down to this, folks.

The Highlanders need this win

to keep their playoff hopes alive.

Laflamme serving a high-sticking major

with his team nursing a tenuous one-goal lead.

Can they hang on?

- I love you, Mom.

- [Ronnie]: Dougie, keep that fucking crease clean!

Clear them out! Front of the crease the whole time.

- Let's get fucking real, boys.

Let's get fucking real!

- [Commentator]: Now the puck is back to the point.

Concord pulling the goaltender. Going with 6 attackers.

- Hold the box, boys! Clear the crease, Dougie!

- Let's go, fuck-face! Boom!

- Come on, Dougie! Come on, Dougie!

- Seconds tick down. There's about 27 left now.

- [Belchior]: Come on now! Let's go!

Clear it out!

- Clear the fucking crease!

- Where's the puck?

I can't see the shot! Shot right, shot right!

I'm down! I'm down!

- [Crowd]: Oh!

[Groaning faintly]

Three, two...

[Screaming]

One!

- No goal! No goal!

- You gonna die, you motherfucker!

[All cheering]

- Dougie? Doug?

- Eat it, puss-puss!

- Fight like a fucking man!

COME ON!

- Yeah, you've done it before, you pussy!

And I know you fuck your players. Don't deny it.

- Did we win?

- Get him out of there, please.

- You stopped it, man. You fucking did it!

- Oh fuck!

- It didn't hurt at all.

- Hey, Dougie! You all right? You did it.

You did it. We won it, Dougie.

[♪ Man singing Nessun dorma♪]

- [Commentator]: Big win here tonight for Halifax,

but they'll still need one more

if they're to advance to the playoffs.

They meet the St. John's Shamrocks

for the 8th and final playoff spot.

And if the hockey gods truly exist

and aren't just a figment of my aging imagination,

we'll finally get to see that long-awaited battle

between Ross Rhea and Doug Glatt.

- OK.

- Gather around here, Highlanders!

- Come on, boys.

- Belchie! Fucking horse cock, get over here.

Listen, boys, it was a solid fucking effort tonight.

I fucking loved it.

And Dougie took one in the face!

[All cheering]

- I'm high on painkillers.

- Pass the dutchie, man.

- I will. I have some for you.

- I'm so fucking proud!

You are unfucking real.

The stuff that you're...

That is, is fucking great!

- Thank you.

- You're our knight!

You're fucking all right, eh?

- Thanks, coach.

[Ringing]

Eva!

Hey, hey.

[Crying]

No. Hey, what happened?

Did you just watch Rudy?

- No. I did it. I broke up with him.

- Holy shit!

- I don't even know what the fuck I'm...

- Hey, come on.

From what I saw from him,

he seemed like a really nice guy.

- I'm just not in love with him.

- You're not?

- No! You.

You make me wanna stop sleeping with a bunch of guys.

- That's the nicest thing anybody's ever said to me.

♪♪ It's the desert heat

♪ That keeps the fear outside, sweet love ♪

♪ And your arms are steadfast

♪ You will bring night

♪ Down below the sun

♪ Just a dream

♪ Some ordinary dream

I'm so sorry. It's my fault.

She's a wonderful girl.

[Crying]

Hit me again.

♪ We all know... ♪

- Hi there. I'm Eva.

- This is, uh... Dakota?

Yeah, whatever.

- Doug! Where were you?

Oh my God!

- Tabarnac!What the fuck happened to you, man?

- Hey. Oh, what? This?

No, it's nothing.

- What the fuck happened, Doug?

- When you deserve a beating, you take it.

- Oh Jesus, Doug!

- ...St. John's in Halifax.

This will mark the first occasion

that Ross "The Boss" Rhea and Xavier Laflamme

will share the same ice

since that brutal hit 3 years ago in Montreal.

Laflamme was severely...

- Fuck.

- ...never quite found his legs again...

- I made a dive.

- Talk about putting out"la flamme".

- [Pat]: Look at you!

Did you fall off a toilet-paper roll?

Do you pee rainbows? Do you fart cinnamon?

- Don't ruin this for Doug, Pat.

- A rainbow come out of your nipples?

[Exhales sharply]

- We're not here 'cause I'm a good fucking captain,

because I'm not.

I've fucked up a lot of things in my life.

I mean, I lost my woman and I don't see my kid enough.

And I guess what I'm trying to say is

I feel I've gained a family, with you boys.

You skated, you fought and you fucking bled.

And you have earned every piece of this.

You got that shit that makes you keep going

long after you got no reason to.

That Doug shit.

- He's got it. He's got the stuff.

- No matter what happens out there, they will know...

[Screaming]

...the Highlanders were here!

- Highlanders!

- [All chanting]: Highlanders, Highlanders!

[Crowd cheering]

- Let's go, Dougie!

- Come on, Highlanders!

Dougie!

[Crowd booing]

- Hey! Fuck you!

- Je parle pas français.

- Fuck him, man.

- [Commentator]: So the Halifax Highlanders

and the St. John's Shamrocks.

It's all on the line here, the 8th and final playoff spot.

And this should be a dandy confrontation.

- No glory holes here tonight, man!

- Rhea runs into a couple of Halifax players.

Here's a shot on goal. The save is made by Belchior.

- Hey, hey!

Come here, you piece of shit!

- He's a one-man wrecking crew.

- Too many men on the ice. - Get the fuck outta here!

- [Pat]: Ross Rhea, you're a cheap motherfucker!

You cheap bastard!

- Rhea steals the puck.

He puts it out in front. He scores!

[All booing]

- [Pat]: Fuck you, Rhea!

- Ha!

- Hey! Come on!

- I'm gonna score a goal for you, right now.

- [Commentator]: Laflamme steps out on the ice.

- Here! Here!

- He calls for the puck. Here comes Laflamme.

He's straight up the middle, in across the left,

goes right through the defence, shot!

- [Pat]: Oh! - [Eva]: Shit!

- Let's go!

- God fucking dammit!

- And the fans are totally frustrated.

Their Halifax team can't buy a goal.

Great save, Belchior!

- [Ronnie]: Let's go!

- We just saw Rhea come off the ice.

- Come on! Let's go, Glatt.

Let's go! Stick with him. Stick with him.

- Rhea manages to step out on the ice at the same time.

This could get scary.

Rhea and Glatt, are they gonna have a go?

- Come on!

- Come on! - Here we go! Here we go!

- [Commentator]: Rhea skates away!

No! He suckered him.

- What the shitis that?

- He forced him to take a penalty.

- Fucker! - Fuck you!

- Come on, ref! You can't call that.

He was fucking instigating!

- You gotta keep your boy out of the box, Ronnie.

- Ah!

[Laughing]

- Short-handed situation, a great opportunity.

- Clear it out now! Clear it out!

- Hey!

- He scores! - Shit!

- Fuck a duck! Pig fucker!

Here we go now, boys, real hockey!

Let's go now. Get it back!

[Whistle blows]

- Off the draw, here's Laflamme out on the ice now.

Rhea out as well.

Let's go. Let's go! Change it up!

And now Laflamme actually takes a run at big Rhea.

- Eat shit, Matlock!

- You want something, Frenchie? - Come on.

- Come here. You want something?

Remember what happened last time, huh?

- Now Glatt steps in.

- That was a dirty shot, Doug.

- Come on, boys, let's play.

- [Man]: Get 'em off! Get 'em off!

- [Ref]: Three, Rhea, two minutes for crosschecking.

69, two minutes, crosschecking.

- Early in the third,

Glatt and Rhea are both in the penalty box.

It opens up a little room.

The puck is down in the Halifax zone.

- Go, Highlanders!

- [Pat]: Come on, Highlanders!

[Air horn blaring]

- Looks like these fans are out for blood tonight.

- [Crowd chanting]: Thug, Thug, Thug!

- Kid, you ready?

- Yes. Thank you for asking.

[Whistle blows, crowd cheering]

- Ladies and gentlemen, this is actually fucking happening.

Dougie "The Thug" Glatt is about to fucking drop the gloves

and take on Ross "The Boss" Rhea.

This has all the elements of a fucking sports masterpiece.

Holy fuck! We've got the worried lady friend's face,

frozen with concern.

We've got the gay brother. Yup!

And the lovable wisecracking Mick best friend,

Orangetown, son, pussy crew, album dropping--

Oh fuck! Here we go.

Here we go! Oh my God!

[Fans whistling]

- [Ronnie]: Come on!

- Come on, Dougie! Take his fucking head off!

- [Ronnie]: Kick his ass, Dougie! Come on!

That's it! That's it!

- Oh shit!

- Don't you fucking dare.

- He's OK. He's always had bad fucking ankles.

You've got him! - Come on, Dougie.

Come on, hit him!

- Fuck!

- Ah! You feel that shit, Rhea?

- [Player]: Nice hit, Doug!

- [Pat]: Show him where the fuck you're from!

[Crack]

- Ah!

- Oh! Oh fuck.

[Groaning]

You're a fucking warrior, Doug!

- Come on, Doug!

- He's not done yet.

[Grunts]

[Crowd cheering]

- Shit.

[Screaming]

- [Crying]: Doug! Oh my God! Doug!

[Moans]

- Attaboy, Dougie! Come on, kiddo!

- You fucking did it, kid.

You did it.

- Doug!

- You did it.

[♪ Choir singing Nessun dorma♪]

- [Commentator]: He scores!

It's 2-1 with 15:25 left in the third.

Here's Laflamme, steals the puck at his blue line.

He's breaking away! - Attaboy!

- In across the line. He fakes, backhand, he scores!

- Xavier!

[Goal horn blaring]

- He's tied this thing 2-2 with 5:23 left.

Here comes the play at the point,

to Laflamme once again.

Didn't seem to lose his way

with all those bodies in his way.

[All cheering]

- Yeah!

- 3-2! 1:21 left.

What a performance by Laflamme!

Three straight goals!

- Laflamme! - Laflamme!

- 1:21 from the playoffs in Halifax.

- I think I nailed him.

♪♪ As I walk around feeling really good ♪

♪ About everything from my health to my hood ♪

♪ I realize that I'm blessed with a lot ♪

♪ So all I gotta say is, work with what you got ♪

♪ They said my voice wasn't made for rapping ♪

♪ Straight out the group home, it'd never happen ♪

♪ As a teenager, I had my first child ♪

♪ And in all my photos, you never see a smile ♪

♪ But now, I'm the best that ever did it ♪

♪ The greatest female rapper, they must admit it ♪

♪ To the haters, I say thanks a lot ♪

♪ 'Cause life can be real good if you work with what you got ♪

♪ I know it's hard, but it takes some work to be ♪

♪ Working with what you got

♪ If you got nothing or even if you got it all ♪

♪ Working with what you got

♪ I know it's hard, but it takes some work to be ♪

♪ Working with what you got

♪ If you got nothing or even if you got it all ♪

♪ Working with what you got

♪ If you have an idea, just think it ♪

♪ If you have one eye, just blink it ♪

♪ If you have a double rum, just drink it ♪

♪ Working with what you got

♪ If you got one leg, just shake it ♪

♪ If you don't wanna smile, then fake it ♪

♪ If you got one potato, bake it ♪

♪ You gotta work it until you can't work it no more ♪

♪ Working with what you got

♪ You gotta work it, work it until you know the score ♪

♪ Working with what you got

♪ You gotta work it till you can't work it no more ♪

♪ Working with what you got

♪ If you got nothing or even if you've got it all ♪

♪ Working with what you got

♪ Hey, hey

[♪ Scatting ]

♪ Let me hear you sing along

♪ I know it's hard, but it takes some work to be ♪

♪ Working with what you got

♪ If you got nothing or even if you've got it all ♪

♪ Working with what you got

♪ Working with what you got, baby ♪

♪ Working with what you got

♪ If you got nothing or even if you've got it all ♪

♪ Working with what you got

♪ And you know deep in your heart you don't deserve ♪

♪ You may be taking a licking and keep on ticking ♪♪

- [Man 1]: Let's go, Doug! - [Man 2]: Come on, Dougie!

[Man laughing]

[Buzzer ringing]

- [Commentator]: We've got a fight going on.

It's our new boy, Doug Smith.

Oh, is he working him over!

He dropped Miciak like nothing!

He'll soon become a favourite of Johnstown fans.

[Cameraman laughing]

Isn't that unbelievable?

- [Man]: Get some clapping going! What the fuck!

[Man clapping]

- [Man 1]: Oh! Yeah! - [Man 2]: There you go!

- A few shots in! Smith trying with the uppercut.

There goes Smithy!

- Doug "The Hammer" Smith of the Packers.

Right over right over right over right

as they've connected with about 30 punches total.

- Oh! There's Smith and Daviault.

What a scrapper we have here.

Two big heavyweights! Doug with some good balance.

♪♪ Dem boys, they're long overdue ♪

♪ Dem boys could easily be one of you ♪

♪ Microphone, cyclone flow orgasm faces ♪

♪ Laser sandwiches, styles

♪ Gooseflesh when hair raises on the backs of necks ♪

♪ From Tourette's to Tantric sex ♪

♪ Blisters getting blistered Delicious and double-fisted ♪

♪ Blood, floods, foam and suds ♪

♪ Bubbles are firm when you lay in the mud ♪

♪ I've been backstabbed on the lam ♪

♪ Doctor, gelato, marble slab

♪ Electric night fire on the microphone ♪

♪ Been dousing myself with champagne cologne ♪

♪ And now my name is known across the land ♪

♪ From Pakistan to Mainland Japan ♪

♪ In Kazakhstan and back to Kapuskasing ♪

♪ Been kicking it, spitting, another wild-goose chase ♪

♪ Wild geese be always chasing me ♪

♪ But I need time to speed around amazingly ♪

♪ So dem boys go where they want to ♪

♪ Dem boys got no one to answer to ♪

♪ Dem boys got a lot of explaining to do ♪

♪ Dem boys could easily be one of you ♪

♪ Dem boys, take it where you want to ♪

♪ Dem boys, you're making a breakthrough ♪

♪ Dem boys, you're long overdue ♪

♪ Dem boys could easily be one of you ♪

♪ Dem boys got juice You got no juice ♪

♪ We've got juice and childs and bruises ♪

♪ Try to get loose, but you is dried up ♪

♪ No juice producing

♪ Tied up and close to losing

♪ Bend over, get your goosing ♪

♪ We're boozed up with hoes from Houston ♪

♪ We don't have a problem We're used to it ♪

♪ Getting juiced to shit

♪ Don't touch my drink, man

♪ Don't give my juice a sip

♪ Six boxes of wine to find six ages ♪

♪ Christ is Merlin, prophets, pages ♪

♪ Abracadabra, now taste it

♪ Wine from water, goodness gracious ♪

♪ He likes Moses He likes Jesus ♪

♪ She just likes them boys that pleases ♪

♪ Down on both of your knees ♪

♪ This feels like heaven No, it smells like feces ♪

♪ Eww!

♪ Feces! That's gross, yo

♪ Yeah, don't touch that feces, my singing pals ♪♪

♪♪ She makes more money than me ♪

♪ She drives a finer car than me ♪

♪ I just wanna cry

♪♪ She makes more money than me ♪

♪ She drives a finer car than me ♪

♪ I just wanna cry...

[♪ Singing in French ]

♪ So guess what ♪

[♪ Continue singing in French ]

Closed Captions:Vision Globale