Original subtitles

I'm sorry for having to move our little rendezvous early.

I have an engagement this month on the full moon.

When… this happens, it's not really something I fuss about,

but do you really need the book for this farm bullshit?

I have, like, 15 new clients waiting for heads to roll.

As shocking as it may seem, Blitzy,

my grimoire is actually incredibly important,

and it isn't supposed to be lent out

-to itty-bitty imps like yourself. -Ugh.

The harvest moon is a very special occasion.

It's been my annual duty to showcase it in the ring of Wrath.

It's celebrated by a very charming little festival with the locals.

Wrath, huh? My employees are from there.

I've never really been. I hear it's full of inbred chuckle-fucks.

Oh, why don't you all join me at the festival?

I can guarantee you all special access.

Look, I told you, we're not bodyguards, okay?

That was a one-time thing we did badly.

I'm simply offering a work-free day of fun.

I feel quite safe at the Harvest Festival.

It's the same every year.

Well, if you promise this isn't some fuck-fest invite,

it does sound like it could be a blast and a half.

Plus, it's not like we can do jack shit without your book anyway.

Aw, I'm sowwy your clients will have to wait.

Oh, fuck my clients.

What do you want, sir?

Hey, hope I didn't wake you, Mox.

How would you and Mils want to visit the Wrath ring

for some harvest bullshit this year?

The Harvest Moon Festival?

Yee-fucking-haw!

Well, Millie likes the idea.

Wait, where are you calling from?

Mm-hmm. Of course.

Oh! Mama! Daddy!

Yeehaw!

How's my deadly little pumpkin spice doing?

I'm good, Pa.

Thanks for letting us stay here for the harvest jamboree.

It's no trouble.

We know you aren't making as much anymore since y'all went "freelance."

Freelance pays fine, Ma.

We're doing fine.

It's fine.

Anyway, y'all remember my husband Moxxie.

-Greetings, Lin, Joe.

How have you been, uh, with all the flaming twisters

and stuff around here?

We lost our old farmhand to one of them terrors last week.

Oh. Oh, crumbs.

M-My bad. I am so sorry.

I didn't mean to open that wound, sir.

Hey, watch it, I'm the "sir" here, bucko.

Oh, yeah. Y'all haven't met my boss Blitzo.

And his hellhound.

I'm not just his hellhound.

-Yeah, she's my daughter. -Only on paper.

Y'all don't deserve to know my name.

It's a pleasure to finally meet the sperm and egg factory

that popped out this little gem of an assassin.

You two raised a sturdy bitch.

That we did.

So, Blitzo, is it?

That's a fine name.

It reminds me of war.

Ah, nothing like a little war to make a strong man.

I like you people.

You know, more battles were won by technological advances than warfare.

I've researched the history of weaponry extensively,

and it's inspiring how, for example,

the progression of guns utilizing angelic technology

has changed the landscape of hell's combative...

I mean…

War fun.

Guns get the job done, but a man ain't nothing

if he can't tear the head off a hellish beast

with only his bare hands.

Ha! He's right, Moxxie.

You've got cute wittle baby hands

like your baby dick.

Refrain, sir.

Speaking of strong hands,

y'all should meet our newest help.

Hey, Striker!

Well, howdy.

Oh, lookie here. You must be the famous Mildred.

Heard some good things about you from your folks, little lady.

Oh!

What are y'all doing so far away from Imp City?

Huh. The free working finally slowing down?

Oh, no, freelance isn't free. It's, uh... Never mind.

We're just visiting for the festival.

The prince is our boss's boyfriend.

Millie, I am not above hitting a female in front of her daddy.

Boss, huh?

Oh, so you're the bold imp that started his own killing biz.

Yeah, well, when you're good at something, you should probably capitalize.

Not many imps start businesses on their own.

That's pretty impressive, sir.

Oh. Yeah?

It is-- I-I-I guess…

I guess it is, isn't it?

So you even conned that ditzy blue blood into getting you to the surface?

Well, it's long and complicated, but the short answer is yes.

But he's not like, you know, w-we're not, like--

We're not doing a-- Uh, we--

What's between-- It's a transactional fucking, you see.

You know, you boys should enter the Pain Games.

I heard "games." What games? I'm in.

Every harvest festival,

there's a competition to be the roughest, toughest bastard in Wrath.

Yeah! Wish I could play.

Millie, you know you get too carried away.

The last competition ended in 15 separate funerals.

I'm aware, but I only caused nine of them.

How come Sallie May still gets to compete?

Your sister doesn't have a neighborhood head count.

She so does.

It doesn't count if they don't find the body.

Still, you get to root for her and your brothers,

and now you can cheer on your boss.

You know, she can also cheer for me.

-Wait, you? -Yeah.

I can compete, can't I?

Oof.

Sure, boy, but I don't think sensitive thespian types

would last very long in the games.

I was born here, too.

I have some fight in me.

Huh. Well, then, little fella, why don't you help me

wrangle one of them hogs for dinner?

Simple. Watch me.

Nah. With these.

Bullets can't pierce the shell.

You got to get the knife underneath and pry yourself an opening.

Oh, right, right. I knew that.

Now, just remember, your rep with the in-laws is on the line here.

So, no pressure at all, you totally will not make an ass of yourself

in front of everyone important in your life.

-Go get 'em, tiger. - Oh...

Mox, you don't need to do this.

Oh, he totally does.

Kick its ass, Moxxie! Yeah!

Fuck yeah, Moxxie! Ride it, Moxxie!

Make it that bitch you won't call back in the morning!

This is fucking beautiful.

Doing great, Moxxie.

-Send me that video later.

Ow. My clavicle.

Don't worry, little one.

You never stood a chance.

Hey, boss man, you want to help the men skin this thing for dinner?

Oh, I am always down to skin the manly meat with a manly man.

-That's what she said. -What who said?

Wait, what bitch is talking shit about me?

-Don't let him get to you.

And, hey, you don't need my parents to respect you.

-They will eventually. -No, they won't.

-What? I'm right, ain't I?

Oh, I'm entering those games.

-Mm, how pissed would you be

if I bet on him dying?

Welcome, I say, welcome all

to Wrath ring's annual

Harvest Moon Festival.

To kick things off, we have the great Prince Stolas,

here to usher in this here Pain Game.

How kind, Wackford.

Greetings, tiny Wrath ring imps.

I hereby welcome you all to another year

of celebrating the spoils of your labor

that continue to feed the citizens of Hell.

I'm happy to kick off the start of these games

that will challenge the toughest imps

to show their skill and dominance.

Good luck to you all.

Especially that sexy little one there.

Yoo-hoo. Blitzy.

Ah, fuck me.

-Whoa, whoa, whoa.

Motherfuck--

Say, I say, for the first year ever,

we have a tie for winner of the Harvest Moon Pain Games.

The winners are Striker

and my darling Blitzy.

Just say my name right, fucking dick.

All right, so he has the physical advantage.

I'm better at other things, like singing.

I'd like to take this opportunity

to sing a quick song I wrote just now about me winning.

Oh, what the fuck!

♪ Sweet victory ♪

♪ I smell the smell ♪

♪ From up in stinking Heaven to the rugged rocks of Hell ♪

♪ Sweet victory ♪

♪ with everything I do ♪

♪ With every talent, I'm so much more talented than you...

Isn't this guy great?

False.

It's gonna be nice working with him.

Working with--

What?!

Yeah, I asked him if he wants to join I.M.P.

You asked…

But…

Mox, I think you've had enough for now.

Let's head back to the house and get you clean.

♪ Moxxie, go fuck yourself ♪

♪ Did you hear something? ♪

♪ It was just the wind ♪♪

-Thank you. You're too kind.

Well, that's troubling.

Oh, my crumbs.

A genuine Carmine-Crafted Blessing-Tipped Rifle.

How--

How in the fuck did he get one of these?

Why don't you ask me, little dude?

Shit! What--

Why do you have this… mister?

You are aware this kind of weapon can kill--

Demon royalty?

Yes, that.

No shit. That's kind of the point.

Okay.

-While I-I'm relatively concerned...

...by your possession of this,

I'm also glad my instant dislike of you has been validated--

Pathetic.

Millie...

I'd kill y'all, but I feel like there's more leverage

with your rodeo clown of a boss if I don't.

Plus, you little things ain't worth the cleanup.

Millie.

Oh, Satan.

Moxxie, I'm fine.

I got worse than this during the flower toss at my brother's wedding.

But I caught that fucking bouquet, and it was fucking worth it.

You just have to get out there and fuck up that brownnosing cocksucker for me.

But I can't break through it.

I'm not strong enough.

Not with your hands, baby.

Use what you're good at.

I'm not good with my hands?

Oh. Right.

Yeah, yeah.

I-I probably should've used this earlier, huh?

I love you, hon.

But for fuck's sake.

My dear commoners of the ring of Wrath,

I, Stolas of the Ars Goetia,

hereby curse this year's harvest

with the glow of the true harvest moon.

- Yahoo! I told you! I told you!

Uh, excuse me. The fuck?!

Blitzo. I thought you were still at the ceremony.

You thought I wanted to stand around with a bunch of hillbillies

excited about corn and shit with a thirsty owl onstage?

Huh. Now you seem disappointed in me.

Yeah, well, I'm not a fan of someone I offered a job to

about to off my easiest lanky ticket to Earth behind my back.

Blitzo, come on.

You know, the two of us are superior than most of our kind.

And you are so above sucking on a disgusting, rich, pompous Goetia,

only to sneak topside for scraps and work for bitter sinners

who could care less who you are when you could be slaying overlords.

Why struggle to run a business that is rigged against you

when you could partner up with me and kill the unkillable?

Starting with the one that treats you like a plaything.

Ooh, that's kind of hot.

We could be the most dangerous beings in Hell, Blitzo.

Wow, that was a good fucking pitch.

Been workshopping it.

You know what? Fuck it, I'm in.

-Huh?

Took you long enough, Mox!

Wow, you should've seen your dipshit face.

-Whoa, whoa. Okay.

Cliché much?

Oh, you daddy fucker!

You dumb fucks lost the upper hand fast, huh?

Ha! You seem to have forgotten something, fuck-o.

Ah, fucking damn it, Loona.

It's a damn shame, Blitzo.

We might actually have made a good team.

Oh, well.

In your wet dreams, you honky-tonk chode!

I still think it's embarrassing.

You're wasting a lot of potential relying on a weak little--

You gonna finish that fucking sentence, pardner?

Vermin.

Who's weak now, bitch?

'Kay, I'm here.

Maybe you'll get me next time... Blitzy.

I can't believe you let him trap you, Millie.

Haven't we taught you better?

I was seeing red, Ma.

And he was slippery.

Excuses. You're better than that, Mildred.

You know, she protected me.

And maybe I'm not a strong, beefy dickhead,

but Millie has the strength enough for both of us.

You two are getting on her case about being hurt

by a psychopath you hired?

Shame on you.

Aw, Moxxie, look at you,

speeching like a big boy with his big pants.

Hmm.

Wow, he nodded.

He's never acknowledged your input before.

So... is that progress?

Huh. I failed to kill the target at the festival.

But don't worry, ma'am, it won't happen again.

It better not.

I want this cheating prick dead.

I don't care who you have to go through.

Make it happen!

Understood.

I'll get him next time.

♪ Sweet victory ♪

♪ with everything I do ♪

♪ With every talent, I'm so much more talented than you ♪

♪ Every time I try ♪

♪ I crush it and succeed ♪

♪ Me, I'm totally the best ♪

♪ Me, super cool me, handsome guy ♪

♪ Moxxie, go fuck yourself ♪♪