Original subtitles

% My dreams are all dead and buried %

% Sometimes l wish the sun would just explode %

% When God comes and calls me to His kingdom %

% l'll take all you sons of bitches when l go %

- My turn. - Hell, no.

- Man, let me drive that thing. Come on! - Do not touch the trim!

Welcome to paradise.

The heavenly strip of nature in the North Georgia mountains.

Until the damned lndians moved in.

Then the settlers...

then that one black family which drove everyone to the suburbs.

Fortunately, it was later gentrified by...

gay fur trappers, who were quickly wiped out by the massive Glogaktafla.

Then the strip mines and rock quarries raped the land...

leaving a crater that was just begging to be used as a nuclear testing site.

Which ultimately cleared the land...

for Captain Kookies Family-Style Fun-Time Pizza Palace...

and Nudist Hog Waste Lagoon Vacation Resort...

for Lesbians Only.

lt didn't last a year.

But now it's become the first investment property...

in the budding portfolio of real-estate mogul, Early Cuyler.

We done made ourselves a deal.

- All right, good! - Where you going?

This is the grandest damn day of my life.

Daddy? What's that smell?

lt's your future, son. Go on now. Breathe it in.

Their future smells like shit.

That's just the reinrichification of the soil being richer richaremarichified.

- Go on, take them damn blinders off. - Oh, my God.

That's right! lt's all Cuyler land!

Yeah! Stretching from Diarrhea Creek over yonder...

right here to this here skeleton.

Big damn deal. You bought a hog farm.

This here is a damn hunting camp for hunters.

lt is the only place in the region where you can stalk and kill, cut, gut...

and dress your own damn ham.

How much did you pay for this?

- $37.50. - What?!

- You got your head up your ass? - Sounds like a lot. How we gonna...?

What are we gonna...?

Calm down now, damn it! l done worked it out.

- But that's a lot of money, ain't it? - Yeah.

lf l had it all gathered together here in a garbage bag...

you'd think l was Travis Tritt a strutting' my fine ass on down to Florida.

But you see, son, usury allows the little man to have that what he desires.

This sumptuous tract of real estate...

fifty luscious acres, currently unzoned for habitation...

features picturesque views of these...

scenic blue tarps.

Can we start the bidding at...25?

- Oh, you bet. - Yes! We have a 25, 25, 25.

- Do we hear a 30? - 30!

A 30. From the only person in the auction.

- Going once, going twice... - 35!

And for some reason we have a 35.

- 36! - You do understand how this...

- 37! - All right...

- l'm actually starting to feel bad... - 37.50!

Sold! To the moron that knows nothing about auctions for 37.50.

- Now, how will you be paying? - These magic beans.

So, that's 37.50 amortized over 500 years at 2999% ...

per annum...

Can you make a down payment, Early?

Well... Well, l got these...

That's no down payment. Technically, that's corn.

The penalty for that is to add additional escrow...

Flo-Jo, racer from the Olympics, you're not listening...

and here we go.

- Here is your monthly payment. - l ain't gotta pay that all at once, do l?

No, that's why l wasted the necessary time to say the word ''monthly.''

Sounds good! Send me the bill now.

So, you see, son, through Jesus' gift of financery...

we gonna own this here land outright in half a millenniasm.

How are we gonna pay $60 a month monthly?

Months? Where the hell you get months? Hell, l paid that all at once, don't l?

- l don't think that's it, Daddy. - How much?

- You said $60. - 60?! God!

We can't afford that! Son of a bitch! We need some damn money!

Hey, darling.

Let me have a carton of them high tar slims...

this Trans-Am key chain, and all the Nasifeds you got back there.

- The blister packs. - Must have quite a cold gotcha there, Lil...

wanting all that Nasifed and all that.

Got a tickle in my throat.

You get that tickle in your throat about every two weeks, don't you?

- What's your point? - Oh, nothing. lt's just...

l've been told by the authorities l'm supposed to ask you...

if you're planning to use these pharmasweaticals...

in the production of illegal substances, you know?

Druggery?

Come on! Please! This is ridiculous!

How's that crystal meth coming?

- Real...good. - Hey, Daddy!

You talking about crystal animetaphetamine?

- Yeah. - Ain't that illegal?

Look here, son. lt ain't like we're buying it.

That's what's wrong. We just make it and sell it...

- ...and take it. - OK.

Look at this here.

These here is the faces of meth. Now, look at this here average woman.

- That's a woman, is it? - All right, below average.

- Oh, dang. - And here is that same exact woman...

- Oh, Lord. - ...after tangling with meth.

- Meth sure does make you...boney. - Yep, boney. And easy.

Look here of what that woman done for just a teeny little bitty taste of meth.

- l can't! - See how she done degraded herself?

- Too...too ugly. - With me? That's me right there.

- ls that...? - And Uncle Travis. We was in Gatlinburg.

We tore the hell out of that hotel room. We tore the sumbitch up.

l ain't wanting to look at that right now.

l prefer the skinny type, really.

- Daddy, l think it's raining pee! - lt ain't raining pee.

lt was raining pee.

You see, the precipitation around hog lagoons...

has an unusually high ammonia content...

on account of the giant holes filled with hog pee.

Hell, it ain't nothing but a thing.

lt was definitely a thing. Sometimes gasses build up...

under the plastic that lines the bottom of the hog pee lagoon...

triggering a massive explosion.

l ain't feeling so good about this.

lf you can't take the pee, get out of the pee-ery.

How's the hunting there, Showtime? You bag one yet?

No, Early, l haven't.

lt seems Lord's bounty is mighty thin out here.

What you need to do is rent you one of these here beating sticks. $60 each.

Early, there ain't no meat to beat out here!

Wait a minute! Russell!

You the personnel man. Where's them damn hogs at?

Daddy, l think something's wrong with them hogs.

They all skinny, paranoid, showing up late to be killed.

- Your brochure lied! - Shut up! l see one!

Snakeman, you a seein' that?

He's a fatty. Go get you some!

Help, Daddy!

Snakeman!

That damn hog's a runnin' off with my ride!

Damn! Daddy!

- We done been cleaned out! - Well, just what l thought.

lt looks like the work of hogs.

Man, the Dale Jr. poster is gone! And the matching bandana, too!

Good thing they didn't get my '96 Atlanta Olympic barbeque pump.

- There we go. - Early...

you wouldn't be committing no insurance fraud there, would you now?

lnsurance?! Hell, l ain't got no insurance.

But l'm gonna sue the pants out of the 1996 Olympics...

for burning my sumbitching house down.

Bunch of sick, fire-toting freaks hanging medals around their necks.

- Sheriff, what you doing up here? - Well, y'all ain't paid your loan.

So, l'm here to seize your assets.

Looks like somebody beat me to the Dale Jr. poster though.

Rusty, get a picture of this.

Y'all gonna have to excuse me.

This here smoke's just playing hell with my sinuses and stuff.

- You so tense. Oh, the tension! - Oh, that's so nice. Wait!

You ain't entering me in another tough-man competition, are you?

No, Granny. Hey, listen. You so stressed about everything.

l mean, look at this stress knot right here in the middle of your back.

There you go. That's a big 'un.

And l'm expected to believe that this is an authentic mountain pork rind, Early?

Taste of it.

No.

No, l don't think this is much of a business plan.

Go on! Seize all the assets at once.

- You want me to pick up this... - Yes. The skeleton!

Well...OK. l'm the law.

Somebody's cooking meth up here.

Meth? What?! How dare you? This is a legitimate pork rindery.

- Look. - Son of a bitch!

See?!

- That was a meth lab explosion. - What?! No, no.

That's just a hog latrine going off.

Actually, that was a meth lab explosion.

Didn't mean to interrupt, l just wanted to... That was a meth lab.

Oh, Lord.

- But this hog's strung out on drugs. - How...?

- Call 911. - Hell, that hog can't be on drugs.

- One, two, three. - How could a hog...

what ain't got no money, pay money for damn drugs?! Lil?

- The first taste is always free. - One, two, three.

There's no damn pulse. One, two, three.

One, two, three.

Come on, you fat bastard! Live!

One, two, three.

l'm afraid l did all l could.

This hog...

is dead.

ls your hog on drugs?

How would you know? How could you tell?

Look for these here warning signs.

Sudden weight loss...

euphoria leading to paranoia...

stealatization of your things...

and jibbery style oinkery what make no sense at all.

Warn your hogs about the dangers of meth...

before it's too damn late.

l'm Early Cuyler, and that concludes my court-ordered community service.

Don't it? Come on, Randy. Let me the f-- out!

Subtitles by BloodLogic

Repair and Synchronization by Easy Subtitles Synchronizer 1.0.0.0