Original subtitles

(Buzzing) Bubbles: ♪ Nobody knows my sorrow ♪

Hey, morning, dick flowers.

About fucking time.

What? I can't believe I called you

after the last bullshit you fucking pulled on us.

Yeah, well, these things take time.

And that last thing was a total misunderstanding.

And because I'm a stand-up guy, this one's on me.

Minus, of course, some small fees, charges for...

things that are totally beyond my control.

Look, you guys are going to come out on top here

once we sue the sagging, grey-haired bags

off these bastards.

You're fucking right, we're suing them.

This is fucking ridiculous!

Fellas! How'd you enjoy your stay?

You're a fucking arsehole, George.

You know that? You are an actual fucking arsehole.

You had no right to keep us in there for a week.

You had nothing on us! That's right.

and that's why we're having a class action lawsuit

launched against this entire department,

and that includes you, Officer Green.

That's Chief Green, dick breath.

And before you go around launching lawsuits,

let me remind you of those old surveillance photos we have of you.

Remember that? The tranny crack whore

doing lines off your dick?

It'd be a real shame if those things resurfaced

and bit you in the ass, wouldn't it?

Okay, well, you guys are out.

My job's done. Listen, I've got to run.

Uh, I'll send you the bill. We'll talk soon. Okay?

What? Wha-wha-wha... Ba-ba-ba- ba-ba-ba!

Fucking idiot.

Where his truck?

Impound.

But you can drive it away right now

for the low sum of $723.

723 bucks for one week?

Are you kidding me? No, that's the cash price.

You know, service and towing fees,

storage, unpaid tickets,

departmental surcharge. "Cash price"?

When do you fucking deal with cash,

you greasy bastard?

I'm sure you'll come up with the money.

Hope so anyway, because if it's not picked up by 5:00,

it's going to the crusher.

Impound lot's full,

so I bumped it up to the top of the list.

George, you can't do that, you crooked son of a whore.

(Chuckles) Can't I?

It's tough being this powerful.

It really is.

Abso-fucking-lute power

corrupts abso-fucking-lutely!

What a shit-encrusted dick-helmet!

(Theme music)

(Grunting)

(Chuckling)

Trinity: He really is good with him.

Yeah, he really is. I just...

I hope he doesn't have an ulterior motive, you know?

Like, he's fucked us over so many times in the past,

it's just hard to get past that.

It's different now that he's family.

Yeah, but is it?

I wouldn't trust him.

I just want Mo to be happy, and he is.

It's my decision.

No, no, no, not fucking happening!

Just 'cause he's my dad all of a sudden

doesn't mean he's automatically fucking related to Mo!

Yeah, Ricky, that's exactly what that does mean.

Dad, look... Family's about fucking being there for each other,

stepping up to the fucking plate when you have to.

This is fucking bullshit!

Dad, calm down.

Oh, I'm fucking calm.

(Clattering)

Dad, Mo really likes him. Fuck!

I want his great- grandfather to be a part of his life.

You're just going to have to get over it.

He's your father, like it or not.

Not! (Thud)

For the first few days after he told me he was my dad,

I just got fucking wasted. I had to get it out of my head.

But the booze wasn't working.

Like, I think it made me more depressed.

So I just put my energy into working at the rink

and the plants, and just ignored him.

I'm not sure how to come to terms with it

but I've got to fucking deal with it.

I've got to stay calm.

(Squirrel chirps)

Seriously? Right now?

What a fucking smug little prick.

Listen to him laughing at my burnt out fucking trailer.

Fucking little asshole! (Squirrel keeps chirping)

(Clicking) You think this is funny?

Your fucking traps are working really well, Randy,

you stupid fucking dummy! Fuck off!

And you fuck off too.

(Distant gunshots) Ricky. Frigging idiot.

Man: (shouting) Fuck off with the fucking guns!

Jesus fucking Christ!

What the frig do you want?

You know, I'm sorry for what happened.

Those guys really screwed you over.

But maybe, once this blows over for a bit,

you can try again.

Now I did everything in my power to help you.

I held up my end of the bargain.

So now I want the video back. That was the deal.

Not a chance.

Remember all those times you were taking forever

and you said, "Randy, try harder"?

Well, I'm going to say the same frigging thing to you right now.

Ted, try harder!

Randy,

you might want to think really carefully

about what you're doing here.

I'm not scared of you, Ted, or your tiny penis.

Are you sure?

I'm going to give you today to think it through.

Don't make me take this to the next level.

Bubbles: This might be the dumbest fucking thing

you've ever done, actually, Julian.

You know what? I want to go home. Just take me home.

Bubs, it's fine. They didn't even have fucking cameras

in the parking lot, man.

How do you know if they had cameras in the parking lot?

Because cops don't think people would be fucking crazy enough

to steal a fucking car in their parking lot, man.

That's why they leave their keys in the ignition.

They're stupid.

We're not going to go home.

We need to make some fucking money.

Check the glove box, see if there's anything in there worth selling.

Don't boss me around.

(Mocking tone) "Don't boss me around."

Some golf passes here, cart included. You see, there you go.

That's 100 bucks right there.

Jesus Murphy.

Whose truck did we take? Ron Jeremy's?

Jesus. Well, why's that in the glove box?

Just put that away.

Here's the registration.

Oh, my blistering fuck!

It's George Green's truck, Julian!

Oh, my God, we've got to dump it!

We've got to dump it! Let's... pull over here! No, no, no...

Fuck that. We need to sell it.

Sell it?

Who in the fuck's going to buy a hot truck

that belongs to the chief of police?

Think about that!

So what the fuck is up, poppy suckers?

What's up, Reg? Just looking to unload

this fucking thing fast, man.

Yeah, oh, yeah. Yeah, yeah.

Is it hot?

Umm... it's, you know...

I don't think I have the paperwork. It... Julian,

it's a little hotter than that, I'd say.

Ehhh... how hot?

It's... it's not cold.

It might as well be sitting on the surface of the fucking sun!

Ah-ha... Yeah, it's great.

Ah, well, I could use it for scrap.

Give you 200 bucks for it.

200 bucks! Come on, man.

Look, we need 723 bucks

or the cops are going to crush his little fucking truck.

No shit. You're dealing with those fucking weasel-fuckers, huh?

Dougie Dixon? That guy's a piece of shit.

No, George Green.

Oh, he's a cocksucker too, slimy little fucker.

That's it? 200 bucks?

It's all I can do for you, bro.

Now, if you guys could find me some steel,

I can move that shit

quicker than a hooker going down on a billy goat.

That makes no sense!

(Growling)

All right, whatever the fuck you are to me,

we need to get some things straight right now, okay?

Apparently you can hang out with Mo.

That's my daughter's decision.

But when it comes to me and you, we don't fucking talk!

Don't say a fucking word to me!

Don't even look at me

unless I say it's okay to look at me

and I don't ever see that fucking happening!

Got it? Sure, Rick.

Good. Whatever it takes.

But listen...

I just want you to know,

that there were a lot of reasons

why I was the way I was over the years.

I don't give a fuck!

Rick, you have no idea

how much I wrestled with this.

A secret this big?

Not knowing how to deal with it.

Why do you think I turned to the liquor so often?

So I made you a fucking alcoholic?

Is that what you're saying to me? No, no, no.

No, it was... a lot of fucking things.

But that's all changed now, Ricky.

Because of... this little guy...

I finally have a reason to stay off the liquor for good.

Ricky, I know...

that, when I was on the liquor, I was delusional.

I was out of control. Yeah!

But I'm never going back.

Little Mo saved my life, Ricky.

Yeah, he's...

pretty fucking special, isn't he?

I'm sorry, Ricky.

I'm sorry for everything.

I was wrong not to tell you all these years.

(Shaky breath) Are you crying?

No, I... Look, I...

I know after all that's happened,

it's probably impossible

for you to believe or... even understand.

I've always loved you, Ricky.

(Shaky voice) Don't fucking cry.

(Sobbing)

It just makes no sense, everything you did to me.

I thought it was for your own good, Ricky.

But I was wrong.

Both: (Sobbing)

Julian: Hey!

What the fuck is going on here?

Why are you guys crying? Who died?

Nobody fucking got dead, Bubs.

Well what, then?

Baste yourselves, boys.

Jim Lahey...

is my father.

The real one. What?

Oh, they smashed up Coconut Ronda.

Fuck. I'm telling you, man,

don't let that fucking nightmare Lahey into your life, man.

He's always got another angle.

I told you. I don't want to fucking talk about it.

I'm trying to block it the fuck out

so I can concentrate on everything else.

That's probably a good idea, Ricky.

Yeah, well, being that said,

where's the nutrients, boys?

Why?

For the fucking plants.

What? Ricky, the plants are alive?

Of course the fucking plants are alive. I hid them at the rink.

But they're thirsty boys. Where the fuck is the Nuclear Bloom?

Ricky, the Nuclear Bloom is on the back of my fucking truck

at the impound, about to get crushed to smithereens.

Yeah, we need 523 bucks.

Reggie said to acquire some steel and he'd buy it off us.

We've just got to figure out where to get some fucking steel.

Steel? (Chuckles)

That's fucking easy.

I know where we can get all the fucking steel that we need.

(Grunting) Fuck off!

It's kind of fucked that we're stealing steel, boys,

when you think about it. What?

Well, steel's the only thing you could steal

that it's itself, right?

Ricky, what the fuck are you talking about?

Are you okay, Ricky? Yeah, I'm just saying, you know,

if we weren't stealing steel, we'd be stealing something that wasn't steel.

So stealing steel's kind of like...

It's a stealing steel...

For fuck's sakes, this isn't fucking working!

What's wrong?

I asked my fucking brain nicely to shut the fuck up

but no matter what I distract-ulate it with,

it gets blurting things out about fucking Lahey!

Ohh, my brain's a fucking asshole sometimes, boys.

I don't know how to come to terms with this.

Like, it's bad enough Lahey's going to be my fucking dad, I guess,

but, if he marries Randy, Randy's going to be my fucking uncle.

Think about that one.

That's not exactly accurate, Ricky.

What? He's going to be what, then? My cousint?

Hmmm... Oh, my fucking God.

Oh, my fucking God.

Randy is going to be my fucking brother?

No. Hmmm...

Actually he'd be your stepfather, man.

Or stepmother, depending on how they file the paperwork.

Could be your stepmother.

No, fuck! (Sigh)

You know what, boys? I can't deal with this. Fuck it!

I'm moving to Toronto and becoming a street person.

No, Ricky. This is fucked!

Ricky, just wait. Listen.

Look, Lahey might be your father but he'll never be your dad.

Well, it's the same fucking thing. What do you mean?

It's not the same thing, Ricky.

Look, Lahey, technically he did father you,

therefore he is your "father"

but Ray...

Ray's the one that loved you, Ricky.

He loved you and he raised you

and he taught you everything that you know.

He did. He turned you into Ricky.

He was my father... You are Ricky because of Ray

and that's what a dad does, Ricky.

You were pretty fucking lucky to have such an awesome one, man.

Thanks, boys.

I fucking love you guys.

I love you too, Ricky. Who's got that belly?

Yip! Let's go fucking steal some shit!

Or steal some steel! (Wheezing laugh)

See, it is fucking cool, isn't it? It's funny.

See the way I brought that back around like a professional.

That's what Gerry Dee would have done.

Hey, Ran.

I brought you a triple triple, bud.

What's the matter?

I can't marry you, sir.

What? Why?

If I marry you, then Ricky becomes my stepson.

And any inkling of a chance

that I had of becoming a cop is gone forever.

Randy, don't be ridiculous.

Being a cop isn't as glamorous as it looks, Randy.

Trust me.

Oh, well, I wasn't doing it for the glamour.

I was doing it for you.

I wanted you to be proud of your new wife.

Now look at me.

Sitting here getting wasted,

crying in my frigging cheeseburgers.

All I've ever wanted was for you to be proud of me, Mr. Lahey,

and to respect me.

Randy,

I respect you in this moment

more than I've ever respected you in my life.

Now you know what it's like

to be driven to drink by the boys.

I love you, Randy,

and I want to marry you now more than ever.

What do you say, bud?

Do you mean that, Mr. Lahey?

If you'll have me.

I'll drink a toast to it, Randers.

What do you got? You can't drink, Mr. Lahey.

It's only wine, Randy.

I can handle a little bit of wine.

And you know what it's like...

when I drink the wine, bud.

I sure do.

It's time to get paid, boys.

Thank fuck.

(Police siren chirps)

Oh, fuck, the cops.

All right, pull over and get us out of this, man.

Fuck. I don't know if I can, boys.

What? What do you mean?

I'm not in the right frames of the mind.

What the fuck are you talking about, man? You can do this!

No. No, I can't. (Engine revving)

Ricky! Jesus Christ, Ricky!

What the fuck are you doing?

We can't outrun them in this,

especially with 750 fucking pounds in the trunk.

My fucking brain's got too many thinks going on!

I can't think my thocks straight!

Oh, my fuck! We're out of jail less than two hours

and we're going right the fuck back.

We're not going back to jail.

Oh, really? Why wouldn't we, Julian?

We're in a high-speed fucking chase,

stolen city property,

no goddamn plates, no insurance, no registration.

Oh, we're fucked! (Whimpers)

Here, Ricky, take that.

You can do this, man. We believe in you.

You just need to be focused.

Maybe if I chug the fucking thing, I guess.

Chug it. Now, that's it, Ricky.

There you go. Chug it!

Bubbles & Julian: Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!

Chug! Chug! Chug!

That's it, Ricky. Come on! Go, man. Keep it going.

Let your brain just start working it out.

Let that dope smoke figure it out.

Chug it, Ricky! Chug!

Okay, boys. We're good.

We're good? Good? You've got something?

I got this. Oh, thank fuck.

We believe in you, man.

Ricky: You guys are going to fucking love this one.

Stop right there, hands where I can see them!

Hands up, fuck-tits! Put your hands where I can see them!

Shut the fuck up, you idiot! I'm a fucking cop!

What? Yeah, man.

Think I like wearing my fucking hair like this?

Do you think I like wearing these fucking clothes?

My wife's making me stay at the fucking Ramada.

I've been working with fucking Chief Green

for three months trying to take these guys down.

Three fucking months!

You just blew my fucking cover.

What? You're working with Chief Green?

Yeah, fuck-brains. Officer Trevor Cory, deep undercover.

See the two guys in the car there?

Two of the highest-ranking members of Satan's Bastards. Who?

Satan's Bastards, the fucking motorcycle gang out of Cape Breton.

You're a fucking cop and you don't know who Satan's Bastards are?

Jesus Christ. George has been trying to take them down for three months

and you may have just wrecked the whole fucking operation, you idiot!

What? I didn't know.

It's all right but when George finds out about this, he's going to fucking freak.

His fucking truck was stolen from the precinct today.

He's not in a good fucking mood as it is.

I heard about that. Oh, my fuck.

I hate to say it, bud,

you're probably going to lose your badge over this one.

Oh, for fuck's sakes, I just got the thing.

No, no, no! Keep pointing that at me. We're not fucked yet.

Stay with me here.

Can you please not tell George

that I fucked this up, big time?

Well, I don't want to ruin your career obviously.

Fuck! Fuck! Cock! fuck!

All right, all right. What's your fucking name?

It's Gordon. Okay, Gordon, stay with me here, bud.

We're okay. We can do this, okay?

But the two guys in the car right now,

they're going to be very, very fucking suspicious of me.

We'll have to do something a little fucked to get this back.

You have any weed or hash on you?

Yeah, I have about 20 grams

that I confiscated from the high school earlier.

Okay, that's fucking great. Where is it?

Right front pocket. Oh, my God, that's fucking perfect.

In a few seconds, I'm going to come at you.

We need to struggle. It has to look fucking real.

I'm going to take your gun, point it at you.

You have to handcuff yourself to your fucking car.

You got it?

I think so. Okay, I'm coming at you, Gordon.

You can fucking do this, bud. Stay with me. Okay?

Are you ready? Are you good?

Here I come! Here I come! Okay.

Take out your handcuffs right now

and handcuff yourself to that fucking car, dummy!

Do it, come on! Move along here!

What the fuck?

(Whispering) Go on, fucking hurry up here, Jesus Christ.

What the fuck are you trying to do?

Hand-cuff myself like you said.

Well, you should have used the steering wheel

or something, you fucking dummy! Fuck!

Holy fuck, is that Moroccan? Yeah.

I'll give this to those guys as a peace offering

and hopefully it chills them the fuck out.

And I'm going to tell fucking Chief Green

you saved the fucking day today, Gordon.

Thank you, Officer Cory. Good job.

I appreciate that. Right, take care of yourself.

Ricky, how the fuck did you do that?

That was unbelievable. I know.

I may have to chug joints more often, man.

That was some of my best work ever.

Incredible, man. That was fucking incredible.

Here, Bubs, do you want a gun? Ahhh! Jesus!

What? Just put it down. Let's go.

Here, have some hash. Chill the fuck out.

That was fun. (Engine ignition)

That's Moroccan!

(Engine shuts off)

Well, well, well.

If it isn't the Right Honourable Ricky the Slug Fucker.

To what do I owe this dubious honour?

What are you, tonguing my shaft there, you tiger tonguer?

Fucker. How are you two horse jerkers?

What... It wasn't a horse.

Ricky: I've got some great shit for you, brother. Check it out.

Manhole covers, ten of the fucking things.

(Clinking) Looking good.

Give you 100 bucks for them.

100 bucks? You gotta be fucking kidding me, man.

We used to make more than that for them in fucking elementary school.

Well, it ain't frankincense and fucking myrrh.

They're manhole covers.

That's the price of steel. 100 bucks.

Fuck. This is just fucking great, Julian.

Great plan. Now what are we going to do?

My truck's going to get crushed.

Did you crush George's truck yet?

Maybe we can sell it on fucking Kijiji or something.

Oh, no, I crushed the living shit out of that thing but, uh,

you know, I did something under the front seat

that you boys are going to want to take a look at.

I think you might be able to use this.

Jesus Christ!

What the fuck?

Holy fuck!

Ted: Hey, where do you think you're going...

Julian: I'm not here to talk to you, Ted...

Hey... Ricky: Get the fuck out of the way there, cock-burger!

You guys can't just walk in here.

Oh, I think we actually can, Georgie.

We want Bubbles' truck back.

Ricky: And we want you to stop fucking with us forever.

(Sigh) So you're here to nail me, are you?

You're fucking rights I am.

Ricky: Let's go with the keys, you deep-fried shit-log!

I've got to admit you guys are pretty good.

I think you got me this time.

You take a great picture there, George.

A calendar we did, to raise money for breast cancer.

Big hit down at the flea market, too.

Raised a ton of cash.

What else have you got, tough guy? For fuck's sakes.

Look, George, that's a really nice thing you did there for a great cause.

But can I just have my fucking truck back, please?

I didn't do anything wrong and you know it.

I saved up the money forever to get that truck

and I need it for my business.

Okay, Bubbles, I'll tell you what.

I'll give you the truck back.

One condition.

You return my truck to my parking space,

your truck is free to go.

I didn't take your truck, though.

Probably not...

but I'm guessing you know who did.

No idea what you're talking about, George.

You know what? I don't even give a fuck the truck was stolen.

Come on. Get in here, shut the door.

Thing is, being chief of police,

the insurance companies tend not to question claims.

So...

New set of golf clubs, brand new set of skis,

a couple of really nice vintage guitars,

top-of-the-line hockey gear. All gone.

Bubbles: Come on, George, this is fucking bullshit

and you know it. Just give me the truck back.

I'll sweeten the deal.

I don't even want the thing back.

I just want someone in this room

to admit they took it. That's it. You can walk away.

So, if somebody in this room right here,

admitted they took the truck,

there'd be no consequences and we could get my truck?

Fuck. If I stole the fucking thing, I would tell you. But I didn't!

Heh, okay. Ted, can you get the fuck in here a minute, please?

Yeah, chief?

Could you escort these gentlemen out of the building?

And when you're done that,

get the vehicles slated crushed over to Dixon's junkyard.

And...

make sure you tell him to crush them...

extra small.

(Whimpering) Extra small. Come on, buddy.

My poor little truck's going to be extra small.

Just like the size of both of your cocks. Come on, come on.

Dicks!

(Joyful sigh)

This is fucking bullshit, Julian.

You could have fucking saved that.

What the fuck was I supposed to do, huh?

You know he would have fucked us over anyway.

Think about it. He might not have.

Look, we'll try to get you another truck somehow, okay?

Oh, yeah, we'll get you another one. No big deal.

Boys, the fucking truck is the least of our fucking worries right now.

If we don't get back the Nuclear Bloom, I can tell you this:

There is no fucking possible way

to grow that much dope in time. We're fucked!

Hey, Julian.

What?

I could easily make sure that truck never gets down to Dixon's

if you were to, uh, do me a little favour.

What the fuck is it?

(Piano music) (Lahey singing)

What the fuck is going on in there?

That's "Flight of the Bumblebee".

(Whispering) Let's go.

(Singing continues)

Oh my fuck! Oh my sweet Jesus!

Ricky: Jesus fucking Christ!

What the fuck is wrong with you two?

Huh? What can I do for you, Julian?

Look, there's a certain sexual video

that Randy's been using to blackmail somebody

and we're not leaving here without it.

We want it right the fuck now!

What's he talking about, Randy?

I don't know what you're talking about, Bubbles.

Lahey: Eh... Talking about a sexual video

that you're blackmailing somebody with, Randy. Who?

(Chuckling) Holy shit...

You don't know, do you?

Randy, I suggest you hand over the fucking video

or I'm going to explain every little detail to your fucking fiancé here.

Randy! Where is it?

It's on my phone.

So my father's a bee and he's a flower?

He's a flower, Ricky, and a bee

and there's probably some kind of a pollination thing going on here.

...stinger cock...

Did you make any copies of this?

I'm not smart enough for that, Julian.

Fucking idiot. All right, let's go.

Fuck boys, I hope this doesn't run in the family.

No. No, you should be okay, Ricky.

Should be all right.

Next time please knock.

Randy, I want to know what's on that videotape

or the engagement's off.

What? Well...

What, Randy?

So honey comes from a bee's cock?

No, Ricky. Ricky.

(Happy grunts) ...this, buddy.

There she is. (Giggling)

How did you make out? We got it.

Did you get rid of the dash-cam footage of us from earlier?

All done. Nice.

So, we have a deal, then.

Mmmm... I don't know.

Julian, what the fuck are you doing? Give him the video.

Bubs, this deal's kind of unfair, man.

No, it isn't unfair. It's perfectly fair!

Give him the sex video and let's get my truck.

This video's worth a fuck of a lot more

than that shitty truck, man.

Watch your mouth.

(Sighs)

What's the story on the Caddy?

Is that being crushed? No.

It's going to auction.

Really?

Okay, boys. Gotta do this quick.

I've got to get back to feed Coolnow.

You know, so he's not fucking with my kitties, I mean.

You now what, I've been thinking about it, Bubs.

It wasn't fair of me to dump him on you like that.

So I'm going to find a new home for him tomorrow. All right?

No, Ricky, no. It's okay.

I mean, he's not that big of a nuisance.

I'll keep looking after the little fucker

just 'cause Mo loves him.

Oh, fuck!

(Groans) Fuck... What?

I don't know what's going on with my nuts, boys,

they seem to be getting worse not better.

There's an awful fucking stink coming off them too.

Jesus Christ, what kind of a stink, Ricky?

They're probably fucking infected. I don't know.

I haven't had time to deal with them.

It's not easy to see. It takes some fucking planning.

How much of this shit are we going to need right now?

All of it. All of it?

Yeah. How many fucking plants are in there?

Come take a look.

Ah, fuck...

Julian: What are you doing, Ricky?

Are you going to turn on some fucking lights?

Holy fuck!

My fuck, Ricky. When you said you were hiding the plants at the rink,

I didn't think you meant like this.

This isn't really hiding anything. Yes, it is.

It's hiding them from the people outside, like out in the world.

This is...

it's fucking amazing, man.

Are you sure there's enough plants to fill the order, though?

Ricky: Oh, yeah, big time. I did all the calculations myself.

Uh-oh. What?

Well, no offense, Ricky,

but you stopped going to math in Grade 6.

It's not really math, fucking 30,000 bottles,

one gram per bottle is 30,000 grams,

454 grams in a pound, we need about 66 pounds

about a quarter pound per plant, 264 plants.

And we're going to grow 350 just to be safe.

Holy fuck, Ricky, that was unbelievable! What?

Well, that's how you should have been doing math calculations your whole life.

You should have been treating everything like a...

like a weed calculation.

I never really thought about that.

We should be good, boys.

And after everything we've been through,

what the fuck else could possibly go wrong?

Really? Oh...

Ricky, why would you say that?

That's exactly what the people in the movies say,

right before everything does go to shit.

I really need my family. Two days, promise.

Yeah, sure.

You're a good granddaughter, Trin.

(Theme music)

(Seabirds squawking)

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

Fuck off! Jesus Christ!

(Whisper) Fuck.

(Light clicks off) Fuck off.