Original subtitles

(Springs creaking)

Ricky: Oh, yeah, baby, that's the stuff.

Oh, that's a nice rhythm, just like that.

Yeah, just keep going like that. Ohhh...

Trinity: Oh, my God, Jacob!

Dad, help!

Ricky: What the fuck's going on, Trin, you okay?

Trinity: It's Jacob, he won't wake up!

I can't tell if he's breathing.

Woman: Jacob, Jacob, wake up!

Ricky: Okay, just a minute. I'll be right in, Trin.

Trinity: Oh, my God!

He's breathing.

He's not okay. I don't know what's wrong.

Ricky: Come on, we don't have a lot of time, gotta make this quick.

Just ignore the voices! We can do this. Come on!

Jesus Christ! Sarah: Holy shit!

What the fuck are you doing, Sarah?

What am I doing? What the fuck are you doing?

Fuck off with the camera!

Who the fuck were you talking to?

My hand.

What? Sarah, I'm sorry,

this is all I got right now.

I find if I talk with my hand, it works a bit better, okay?

Ricky, you are so fucked!

What the fuck's going on with Jacob?

He's fucked up. Come in.

(Shallow breathing) Ricky: Holy fuck!

Holy Fuck! Okay, Trin, stay calm.

Grab a fucking knife or something sharp.

You gotta shove it right through his eye socket

and make sure it comes out the other side.

Dad, what the fuck are you talking about?

He's turned, Trin, he's turned.

It's too late for him now, okay?

Have you ever seen "The Walking Of The Dead"? It's okay, dude.

Stay calm, everyone. Stay calm. Okay, get away from him!

I'm gonna shoot him through the fucking head!

That's what you've gotta do! I gotta shoot through the fucking head.

Bubbles: Ricky! What are you doing?

Stay back! Stay back! He'll try to bite you! Dad, stop!

You can't shoot your son-in-law in the head!

He's not my fucking son-of-law anymore.

He's a walker zombley! He's not gonna eat my fucking family!

(Theme music)

(Mixed yelling) If he bites us,

we're all going to be fucking zomblies.

Get out of the way! (Yells)

(Mixed yelling)

If we don't shoot him, we're all gonna fucking die here.

Ricky, give me the fucking gun! What are you doing? Give it to me.

(Yells) He's a zomblie.

Would everybody calm down, please.

Ricky. What?

There's no such thing as zombies, okay?

What the fuck is that, right there? Rick!

We've got a lot of work to do. Stop fucking around.

Dad, you have to take him to the hospital.

We've got a bit of running around to do.

I'll take him right after that. No, Dad, now.

Look at him.

He needs to go to the hospital.

I'm sorry, Julian. I know we got a lot of stuff to do but family comes first.

I love my fucking family. Family? Who? That?

The guy you were gonna shoot in the head two seconds ago?

Hi, Julian!

Two seconds ago that wasn't Jacob in my mind.

We've got to take him. I don't want to catch this shit

and the rest of my family catching it!

Julian, it could be a fucking crazy squirrel disease.

I bet that's what it is.

Fuck's sakes. All right. Cory,

get him out of those sex underwear and strap him on the roof

with some straps and top up my brake fluid.

My brakes have been fucking me around lately, all right? 'kay, dude.

Dad, you're not strapping him to the roof of the car!

He can ride in the car. I'm not catching that shit.

Put him in the trunk, then. He's probably gonna fucking die anyway.

What? You think I might die?

Have you looked at yourself?

Yes, you could fucking die! You look fucked!

All right, Cory, you're gonna go with them to the hospital.

Bubs, let's go to the nutrients store.

Don't worry. We'll take care of him.

All right, sweetie? Good to see you guys.

Ricky, stop fucking around.

Promise? Bubbles: He promises, Julian.

I'm fucking sorry, I thought you were a fucking zombley.

But why would you go and do this?

Like, you completely fucked this day up!

I'm really sorry, Ricky.

I'm not jealous, Randy.

I just care about you, that's all.

And I don't want to see you get hurt.

And I'm sorry if I care about you.

Randy, come on and get your breakfast.

Double sugar bacon!

Randy: I'm not eating that, sir.

I'm off the bacon.

Oh, you're off the bacon?

Since when?

You had two whole packages on Tuesday.

Randy: Well, no anymore.

I'm in training.

Where did you get the shirt?

Ted gave it to me.

He's gonna help train me

and he's going to pull some strings

to get me into the police college.

Oh, I see.

Is that all he's gonna be pulling, Randy?

I don't like this, Randy.

I don't fucking like this one bit!

Well, I'm doing it, sir.

And, if you care about me as much as you say you do,

you'll be supportive and proud of me.

(Car honk beeping)

If anything crazy goes down here today,

call me on my cell for back-up.

For fuck's sakes!

(Dishes clatter)

Ricky: Is he dead yet?

Cory: Okay, we made it, dude.

You're gonna be all right. How do you feel?

Oh, I felt better before we left but I feel worse now.

(Coughs) I think it's the exhaust fumes.

Cory: Oh, man, I'm gonna get a wheelchair.

It could be the exhaust fumes

or it could be more Symp-sons coming on.

If it is the exhaust fumes, here smoke this.

It'll cancel them out.

Listen, Jacob.

There's something I want you to know, bud.

I know that you probably think that I think, you know, you're...

a fucking idiot, you're like some weird insect-y man.

You know, my daughter married a loser with no fucking money

and no chance of keeping a good job because you're too dumb.

But you know what? It doesn't even matter if I did think all that.

I actually think... (Coughs)

that you're a pretty good guy.

I actually like you.

Thanks, man.

I think I've may even been...

starting to love you a little bit.

Anyway I just wanted you to know all that

'cause you're probably not gonna make it.

What?

You think I'm not gonna make it?

Look at your fucking hair.

It's just coming right out, buddy.

You're fucked. (Panting, wheezing)

Don't worry, though, buddy.

Come on, we'll get you inside.

Me and Cory we're gonna be with you till the end.

The end?

What do you mean, the end?

What do you mean, the end?

(Clanking) Jesus Christ, Cory!

Why is all this shit so expensive, man?

Look, that's 80 bucks. Oh, I know.

I've been buying it. I know how expensive it is.

Bubs, stop grabbing at yourself.

I'm not grabbing at myself.

I get nervous and my bird starts doing that.

If it's not at the right angle, I get a kink into it.

Why are you nervous? We're not doing anything illegal.

Oh, no... Nothing illegal about growing

400 fucking dope plants in record time!

Nothing illegal there.

We're buying fertilizer, man.

Yeah! Fuck, just relax.

Alrighty, fellas, I've done some digging here.

I can do pretty much everything on the old list here, buddy.

Perfect. Except for the...

Nuclear Bloom, she's on back order.

What? Isn't that the most important shit?

How in the fuck is it on back order?

Last week you had almost a full barrel.

Yeah, but it's Sonny Ding, the potato farmer.

Come in and bought it all.

Sonny Ding from Eastern Shore?

Yeah... Yeah, he's only got one upper lip.

No, that's not Sonny.

(Chuckles) Everybody's only got one upper lip.

I'm just fucking with you! You got me.

So when are you getting more in?

Oh, you're looking at two weeks.

Yeah... Slow boat from China shit.

Fuck's sakes. Fucking China!

And their slow boats! I know.

A bit of a wake-up call, huh?

The police force is not for everybody.

This is ridiculous.

There's lots of cops fatter than I am around.

Actually, no there's not.

You're gonna have to lose at least 50 pounds

if I have any hope in hell of getting you into the college.

Frig this. (Panting)

I'm not losing any frigging weight.

You gotta figure out a way to get me into the frigging college

or George is gonna see this.

(Video recording on phone) Ted: Harder.

Randy: Why isn't it working?

Ted: Oh yeah. Randy: How's that, Ted?

Ted: Try harder, Randy, try harder. Ooohh yeah.

Now take me through the drive thru at the King.

And you're frigging paying!

Big fuck-up, Cory. (Chuckles)

(Indistinct call on P.A.)

Bye-bye.

Err, dude, I think the horse moves in...

the shape of an R or letter M or something.

What kind of a fucking hornse would move in the shape of letters?

It's a hornse. It goes wherever the fuck it wants.

Unless it tied up but, see any ropes here? It's not tied up.

Fuck, you're dumb sometimes, Cory.

I'm sorry, dude. Man, I'm just so freaked out about Jacob, man.

I don't know what to do. I know.

Fuck, he's so young. What a shame.

I know it must be hard on you.

I mean, you already lost one idiot best friend

and now you're going to lose another one.

It's not fair.

Well, I don't he's gonna die or anything, dude.

I think... Oh, fuck, I knew it!

He didn't make it.

What?

Are you serious? Fuck!

Jacob's dead?

No! No, no...

Cory, come here, bud.

We're gonna get through this, man.

How the fuck am I going to tell Trin?

(Sobbing) Fuck's sakes!

Guys, guys, Jacob's not dead.

He just had an allergic reaction to dog hair.

But a violent one.

That's it? He's allergic to dogs?

Oh, my fuck.

Jacob, you fucking idiot!

I'm really sorry, Ricky.

It's, uh, it's not Jacob's fault.

He has a very strange element in his blood.

I've not been able to identify it

but I'm guessing it's related to his reaction to the dog.

Now, uh, make sure you keep this bracelet on.

It's got all your information on it.

If the condition worsens, I want you to come back here immediately.

Okay, thanks, Doctor. (Phone rings)

Hey, Julian.

Still dealing with Fuckbrains here.

He's allergic to dogs apparently.

Ooh, I'm going to make everyone think I'm fucking dying!

Yeah. Yeah, it's right here.

Fuck off! I'm on the phone.

I forgot where I was, okay?

Yeah. I know exactly where that is, man.

I'll be there in 15 minutes. Okay.

Hey, Ricky, can we stop and get this prescription filled

on the way back to the park?

Yeah, we can. On the way back to the park

but right now we're not going back to the fucking park.

Get the fuck out to the car!

You've wasted enough of today already!

Fucking dog allergy!

What are you going to say you're dying from next?

Getting stanged by a fucking bee?

I hope not.

How long are you going to be this fucking colour?

You look ridiculous.

I'm really sorry, Ricky.

I don't know what's going on.

What are you doing going through the fucking door first?

Jesus Christ! Sorry!

Thanks, dude.

I can't believe he didn't have a fucking drop left!

Not a fucking drop, Ricky.

She's all in there somewhere.

Well, just FIY, there's no fucking way

we'll grow enough weed in 43 days without that shit.

We're fucked! Way to go, Jacob!

Sorry, dude.

Jacob, all you have is a fucking allergy?

Yeah. Well, kinda.

Doctor said I had some sort

of unidentified element in my blood.

Unidentified element?

Okay, boys, there's nobody around.

It looks like the barrels are up in that first outbuilding up there, okay?

Cory, Jacob, I want you to grab the truck,

go up and grab the fucking barrel.

You got it. Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hang on!

Grab what truck? My truck? Yeah.

No, no, no. I worked way too fucking hard for that truck

to let fucking Red ET and Drewberry Dumb fucking use the thing.

That's not happening.

Bubs, do you have insurance?

Yes, I have insurance. I'm a legit businessman.

Well, circumstances like this is...

that's why you fucking have insurance.

Oh, yeah, no, I remember reading that actually in the insurance policy.

Paragraph 1: "If you use your truck to steal something

and it gets fucked over while the crime is in progress,

you are covered 100% with zero deductible."

Bubs, if something get fucked over,

which is not gonna happen,

we'll just fucking burn the thing and report it stolen.

You can say there was tons of shit in the front,

tons of shit in the back.

It's a win-win situation here, man.

And then you can buy a real fucking truck.

A real t... That is a fucking real truck!

You know who uses great big trucks, Julian?

Who drives around in those?

Guys with little, tiny wieners.

That's who drives those.

Oh, wait a second,

don't you have a ridiculously large

jacked-up fucking G.I. Joemobile?

Real funny. Real fucking... Go fuck yourself!

Look, are we just gonna say to fuck with everything?

You know, 'cause I'm quite happy to go out in the ocean

and fucking fish lobsters, man.

All right? It's up to you.

Then maybe we can hook up at Christmas time or something.

'Cause I don't give a fuck!

I know what you're doing, Julian.

Yeah? Is it working?

(Sighing) Fuck off.

All right, give him those keys. Let's go, boys.

(Sighs) Here, boys.

Do not fuck this truck up!

Right on, boys. (Keys clicking)

Cory, Cory!

That... Come here.

Click that again. (Clicking)

See the fire coming out of there?

It's a lighter. (Soft grunt)

Don't be fucking with it.

(Clicking continues) (Long sigh)

If my truck gets fucked up...

It's not going to get fucked up.

No, let me finish.

If my truck gets fucked up,

I'm getting your truck.

I'm taking it and I'm selling it.

To somebody else with a tiny wiener.

(Gunshots) Ted: Gentle now, Randy.

Gentle... Just like that.

(Gunshots) Ah! Ah!

Jesus! Fucking Christ! What the hell are doing?

Well, I've never frigging fired

one of these things before!

Come on, let's just go.

No, I've got to learn this, Ted.

I suggest you friggin wrap your friggin arms around me

and show me how to hold this.

Unless you want the guys downtown to know

some of the weird stuff that you like done to you.

(Gunshots continue)

Come on.

Yeah, yeah, okay, okay.

Widen your stance.

Straighten your arms.

Also stick your bum out a little.

Okay... shoot.

(Gunshot) Ahh!

(Grunts of effort)

(Straining)

Jeez, man! This is crazy!

It's like, I'm pushing, I'm pulling,

it's not even locked.

Nothing!

(Grunting)

There we go.

Hey, I knew that.

All right.

No.

(Dull thuds) No.

No. Hey, Cory, this one sounds different.

Listen: it sounds full... (Dull thuds)

(Hollow thuds) ...the rest sound empty.

You sure?

Yeah, listen. (Tapping)

Hear the difference?

Well, what if this one... (Hollow thuds)

is full and that's empty? (Dull thud)

(Clattering)

See? Full.

Right on, dude, let's do it.

Ho...ly shit. (Grunt)

On three. One... One, two, three.

(Straining) Sorry, I didn't really help.

One, two, three.

Cool. (Grunt)

Hey, careful. Okay.

Right. That's easy, dude.

All right, just don't drop it.

I'm not saying there's no such thing as aliens.

All I'm saying is Jacob is not a fucking alien.

Ricky, Ricky, did the doctor say

that Jacob had an "unidentified element" in his blood?

That's what he said. Yeah,

because he's a fucking alien, Julian.

He's a new species. He's a Tall Red,

descended from the Tall Whites, I guarantee you.

This mean my fucking grampson's an alien?

Well, he's half.

Mo's not a fucking alien!

Jacob's not a fucking alien!

Yeah? Yeah!

Who have you ever seen

with four-foot-long arms, Julian,

that turns red for no reason? (Cellphone ringing)

Bubs, he looks like a fucking alien, all right?

Ricky's NHL ball hockey camp. How may I help you?

There's no date on the poster yet

'cause I haven't fucking picked one.

'Cause I'm waiting to see if there's any interest first.

It says possible because I can't see in the future, okay?

They all say they want to come,

what happens maybe they're on their way here

and a fucking earthquake derupts,

it fucking opens up, swallows the fucking car,

and they're never seen or heard from again?

It could happen, right?

Then I'd be a fucking liar. I'm not a liar.

My poster's not a fucking liar.

Look, if you're interested, call me back in a few days.

If you're not, it doesn't really matter to me,

I don't give a fuck.

Fuck, people are stupid.

Ricky, that had to be

the dumbest conversation I've ever heard in my life.

But no, you should've heard what she was saying!

He's a fucking alien, Julian.

All right, boys... I'm telling you.

What are you doing, man? Hang on, boys!

Why do you always... Whoo-oo!

Ricky! Slow the fuck down!

(Cackling) Ricky, slow the fuck down!

Aww, fuck! The brakes ain't working!

(Crash, clattering) Man: What the fuck!

Ricky: Jesus Christ! Fucking Cory!

Julian: Back it up, Ricky!

Bubbles: Oh, fucking nice one, Ricky.

Man: Holy shit! What the fuck, man! A nice one.

Fuck's sakes. Crashed into that guy's nice truck.

I hope my car's all right.

What the fuck did you do to the truck?

It's just a little scratch. Fuck!

I got the worst of it, you fucking dummy.

What? You heard me.

Take your tiny cock, get in your truck and fuck off.

Huh! You got the worst of it?

(Mirthless chuckle) Julian: Gun!

Bubbles: Jesus Christ!

(Gunshots) Fuck!

Boys, have I got to die in Reggie's junk yard

because of a fucking power slide gone wrong?

Can we all put down our guns

and talk like normal fucking human beings?

(Gunshots)

Oh, shit, dude, man,

you're totally like my superhero, man.

Like, a real live superhero, man, you're my hero!

All red and shit, lifting the barrel over your head, man.

You totally did most of the work. You know that, right?

I don't remember, man. (Awkward chuckle)

I feel like I'm dying, dude.

Well, that's just it, man.

It's like, whatever we put our minds to,

we can do together. Do you know what I mean?

Even when we're dying, we get shit done, man.

Thanks, man. You know what?

You complete me, man.

Thanks, man. Hand me off. Dunk.

Oh, sh... Careful, man.

Sorry, dude. Let me get...

Oh, shit, man.

Uh... I think the barrel's gone.

What, you think it's gone or it's gone?

Dude, I think the barrel's gone.

We had a barrel in the back and the shit is gone. Look.

Dude, I can't see. We've got to go back and get it.

We've got to go back and get it. Go, go, go, go...!

(Gunshots, dog barking)

Man: You got insurance?

Do I look fucking dumb enough

to buy insurance, you little shit vacuum?

(Gunshots)

Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!

What the fuck is going on,

you pigeon poking fucks?

You're scaring the shit out of my cust...

Put the fucking weapons away!

Hey, Reg. Reggie: Moose fuckers!

I fucking slid into this come gargler's dicktruck here

and he fucking lost it on me.

Look at the little tiny scratch. Ah, Ricky...

Reggie: So, Dougie.

Nice.

Here's how this is going to go down.

You two guys

are going to take your short, stumpy,

hobbitty asses,

get in this gigantic truck thing

and get the fuck off my yard.

Who the fuck are you calling short,

stubby, and hobbitty,

you long-legged... arctic-blonde prick?

Go fuck yourself, huh?

No, no, no, I think it's "go fuck yourself",

you know, 'cause the universe

is not responsible for you two dipshits

growing up to be mouse-diddlers, are they?

So lose the fucking attitude

and can we all just stop shooting at each other?

Now, you two, fuck off!

(Quietly) You fuck off.

Bubbles: Short guys in big trucks.

There's nothing fucking worse.

(Engine ignition)

Now what, pray tell, can I do

for you turtle jerkers?

Can I just ask what the fuck is up with you

and all the animal sex fucking references you use?

Well, it's kind of my thing, dude.

It's cool, man. Julian : We need clones.

Lots of them. Now you have my attention.

How much is a lot? 300 or 400?

(Laughing) Yeah, that's good, Cheech and Chong.

What am I, fucking Up In fucking Smoke here?

Oh, fuck's sakes, you can't do it?

Well, now, I didn't say that,

you porpoise-raping piece of shit.

I'm Reggie! Of course I can do it!

Right on! He's the Reg, boys!

I told ya.

Bubbles: Yeah, but see, "porpoise-raping".

Why do you need to call him that?

It's kind of funny. I mean,

something in the ocean probably does rape them.

Octopusses, fucking...

Octopusses don't rape porpoises!

starfish... How the fuck

could a starfish rape a porpoise?

Salamanders probably do.

They don't live in the ocean, but...

Okay, dude, minor setback.

Not a big deal, man.

We just get it up there.

I've seen worse. It's spilled a little, but...

Oh, fuck, it's all over me.

Well, we'll just put it back in, dude. Look.

It's a good thing you found it, man.

Hey, I don't remember it being so white

and sticky and shit.

Let's get it back on the truck

and get it back to the park.

(Straining) Yeah, hoist it up, dude.

(Straining) All right. Ahh, fuck... okay.

You raise your end. You go first.

Okay, argh... Yeah, well, put it...

Oh, wait, no... Okay... Shit.

(Indistinct muttering, grunting)

Ugh! Oh, jeez,

fuck's sakes! Okay, that's all right, dude.

Here, do it again. Okay, up.

(Straining) Yeah, I got it.

Let's go. (Both panting)

Oh, perfect, dude. Okay. Yeah, man.

Make sure you strap it down good this time, eh?

Great idea. All right.

Bubbles: There, Dougie, you take that.

Just feed them water for now, guys.

We're going to be over, we'll teach you

exactly the formulas to use, all right?

She's got two. There you go.

And remember, the bigger the plants,

the more money you're going to make.

That's the last of 'em. Right on.

This tomato plant don't look right.

That's 'cause it's a special, uh,

tomato plant from Italy.

They grow a lot bigger there. Oh, yeah.

It's a special tomato plant from Jamaica.

Huh? It's still fucked.

You're fucked. (Horn honking)

Speaking of fucked.

Cory: What's up, dudes?

Ricky: It's about fucking time! Yo!

Boom! Look at that.

Your fucking brain's about the size

of fucking tiny little birds, you know that?

Yo, check it though.

Look.

What the fuck does that say?

"Power braking fluid".

Power steering fluid! It eats through brake lines.

You almost had us fucking killed, you idiot!

Ricky. What?

The nutrient company change the formula?

When did it start looking like vanilla pudding?

What the fuck?

Why is it that colour?

What the fuck is that?

Bubbles: Well, Ricky, don't... That's not it!

What the fuck is that?

Who the fuck is this?

(Door opening, closing) Fuck!

Who the fuck...? Man: Which one

of you cocksuckers is Jacob? (Rifle clicking)

There's no fucking Jacob here there, flamingo tits!

I found this on the ground at my farm

and I'm missing a very valuable barrel.

Julian: Whoopdee shit, you found something on the ground.

What the fuck is it? Hey, dude,

that's your hospital bracelet, Jacob.

You are the son of a bitch

that robbed me? We're not fucking around here, bud!

Where is it, boy?

Look, none of us robbed from you, okay?

So get in your truck and get the fuck out of our park!

Oh, really, huh? There it is, Harold. Load it on the truck.

No, no, no. You're not fucking taking that.

We fucking need it. Oh, we are taking it!

And I'll shoot every fucking one of you if I have to!

We'll fucking shoot you too! I fucking love shooting people!

Bubbles: Ricky! Ricky, just wait! Come on!

Hang the fuck on!

What if we just pay you for it, okay?

And we'll forget this ever happened.

Oh no, French guys,

but you don't like the kind of people

that got 50 grand lying around.

50 grand? For what? For that shit?

Well, that's its value when it's acquired by hand.

It's $280 at the fucking hydroponics store, you criminal.

Wait a second. Hand-acquired?

What the fuck is this stuff?

Bull semen! What the fuck did you think it was?

Bull semen! (Retching)

Man: Yeah, it's not just any ordinary bull semen.

This is grade A,

100% organic, hand-tossed

liquid fucking gold! Okay.

(Violent retching) Look, there's been a huge mix-up here.

I sent these two idiots out

to pick up a fucking barrel of fertilizer in a barn.

They obviously went to the wrong one

'cause they're dumb.

Ricky: We had no idea, man. Just take it

and get it the fuck out of here, please!

Oh, we're going to take it out of here, all right.

Then we're going to come back with the cops

and sort this out. You don't need to call the cops!

We're giving it to you back, man.

It's down a couple of gallons

and these tired old hands

ain't going to be able to top it up.

Blisters healed just a few days ago.

Ricky: Stop fucking talking about it!

What if I give you these guys to jack off your bulls?

They'll top it up, we'll be cool.

Uhh, I don't know. It's, uh...

(Retching continues)

...it's pretty hard work, you know.

No, no, they can do it.

They can do it, believe me.

They've had lots of experience in that field.

I'll through a few crates of lobsters in there too.

Lobsters, huh? Crates?

Uh...

Come on, man.

Yeah, well... yeah, okay.

Oh, yes, I... Yeah, yeah, okay.

Yeah, we got a deal, We got a deal.

All right. Harold,

load the load of load.

Cory, Jacob, help him with the load.

What? Help him out with the fucking load.

Ricky, are you all right?

Ricky! Ricky!

Do not wipe your lips on me.

How big of a dollop did you put on your tongue?

(Groaning)

Oh, my fuck. Not fucking right now.

What's the commotion here? None of your fucking business, Randy.

Julian, what the frig are you doing here?

You know the rules. I want you to leave the park immediately.

Relax, Randy, I'm just visiting.

Right, Julian. Just visiting.

Well, you better be.

I'm not afraid of you anymore,

tough guy! What the fuck, Randy?

You've got one hour, Julian!

Ooooh!

When the fuck did he start acting so hard wearing a shirt?

Bubbles: The same day he started wearing blue bags.

Fucking cop wannabe.

Barb & Lahey: (Imitating ducks quacking, laughing)

Hey, guys!

There's my little man. Barb: Hi!

Thank you so much for looking after him.

Oh! He's really growing attached to you guys.

Oh, my gosh, it's no problem.

We're growing attached to him. He's so gorgeous!

(Chuckling) I'm going to miss you so much

next week when I'm away,

but I will bring you back a lovely treat, okay?

Don't worry, little Mo.

Uncle Jimmy will still be around to play with you.

Yes, I will! Mm!

Okay, Mo, wave bye.

Oh, no, no, no, no. I'm coming with you. Come on.

I'm going to get my little fix of Mo

before I go.

Come on, let's go.

(Chuckling) See you, Mo.

Say bye. Say, "Bye, Uncle Jimmy!"

Randy: Hey, guys. Hey, Randy.

Hey, Mo, how's it going, buddy? Say hi.

Randy: Good to see ya.

We've got to take Julian and Ricky down, sir.

Julian? Yeah, he was just here.

What? There were two farmers with guns,

a barrel of something big and expensive.

Something big is going down.

You could talk to Barb,

convince her to let Julian move back to the park

and then we could take them all down at once.

It's not going to happen, Randy.

Oh, you get to decide just like that, do you?

Yeah... Well, maybe... maybe I'll decide then

this isn't going to happen either. Randy, Randy, Randy,

Randy, come on now. Just relax, bud.

Okay, we'll talk. Okay?

Okay.

You go in and start supper.

I'll clean up.

Thanks for listening, sir.

(Sigh)

My sexy Julian back in the park, huh?

This is pretty much it, Julian.

Everything comes in there, you know.

Sliced and diced;

puréed and crushed;

over to the spiceland

for my proprietary blend.

She gets cooked off in the boiler,

goes in there,

pumped up into the saucinator,

out into the bottle and the capping department.

It's a pretty fucking streamlined operation.

No, man, it's pretty fucking impressive.

No, I know. So, what's the profit margin

on each fucking jar?

(Sigh) You see, profit margin...

You've got to know that, man. I know.

And you know all that stuff

and that's why you should be living here

at the park with me. (Sigh)

Just knowing words like that,

I'd probably make more money.

I know, but I can't, okay?

I've got a good thing going on at the container, man.

It's peaceful out there.

There's no stress on the ocean, man, it's beautiful.

(Door opening) Ricky: Hey, boys.

Hey, Ricky. Bubs, I need a little favour.

Coolnow obviously can't be around Jacob any more and...

Stop right there, Ricky.

Don't say another word.

You tell Jacob to put him on a spaceship

and they can fly up to Jacob's house at the North Star.

He's not staying here.

Trin and Mo can't move 'cause of a fucking puppy dog,

and we can't get rid of him, Mo loves the little bastard.

Well, I'm putting my foot down, Ricky, 100%.

There's two things that dogs don't mix with:

kitties and Bubbles.

Oh, like the... the ones you blow with bubble gum?

No! Me, Bubbles. Me.

Why didn't you say "me"?

Because I sometimes refer to myself in the third person.

It's a thing I do. That's confusing.

Anyway, it's only for a little while.

It's nothing big deal, right? One day or so.

He's not staying, Ricky... I know.

I've got to say good night to Mo, hold him for a minute.

Ricky! Thanks, buddy. Love ya.

You're a good friend. (Heavy sigh)

This is unbelievable.

Look at this now: bull semen,

fucking dope clones, shoot-outs,

and now this,

me looking after a fucking wrangley old mutt.

It looks a hotdog with hair on it.

Bubs, things got a little fucky today,

but you've got to be positive.

How good is it to have all of us

back together again, huh?

Huh? I don't know.

Oh, come on, man.

Scale of one to ten, how good does it feel?

Come on, tiddle-iddle-iddle- iddle-iddle!

Mmm. Come on.

Mm... a million billion.

That's how I feel.

Hey, little buddy. He's fucking cute, man.

He's not cute.

He's got a big, long nose.

Nobody likes that.

(Lips smacking)

Nobody likes those cute little ears

and little tongue.

He's fucking cute, man. I don't care what you say.

(Theme music)

(Seabirds squawking)

Fish: Fuck! Fuck! Fuck off! Fuck!...

Fuck off! Jesus Christ!

(Whisper) Fuck.

(Light clicks off) Fuck off.