Original subtitles

Julian? What?

Don't you think we should at least check

on Lahey and Randy?

I mean, bring them some food, maybe some water?

Fuck that, man. They'll be fine.

We'll let them sweat it out a bit,

the fucking assholes.

Snoop's guy's here.

Right on. (Loud muffled hip hop)

Hopefully he's not a dick.

Bubbles: Hopefully he's not deaf, Jesus Murphy!

Keep it down on the volume, guys.

(Louder hip hop)

Waddup, man?

That's one hell of an Uber, cuz!

Waddup? Sammy OG, Snoop's guy.

Bubbles.

Ricky, my man. How are ya?

Nice mothafuckin' piece, cuz.

Yeah, man. Mmm!

Is that the shit right here, cuz?

Yeah, man. Will those fucking boxes work or what?

Work? They work, mothafucker!

They perfect! Mmm!

Beautiful!

(Fingers snapping) Mmm, mmm, mmm.

Listen, the boat'll be here

tomorrow mothafuckin' morning.

Get this mothafuckin' deal done!

Yeah!

But right now,

my trailer park nizzles,

we about to have a mothafuckin' tizzle.

A toast, mothafucker.

I love this shit.

Bubbles: About that nizzle tizzle toast...

Tizzle toast. One for you.

One for you.

Oh, here, just wait.

I don't need one. I can't drink that.

That'll knock me right on my arse.

Ain't that the whole fuckin' point?

Yeah, come on, Bubs.

It's a pretty fucking special occasion here, bud.

Ricky, I don't succumb to peer pressure. I don't need this.

Ricky: What kind of fucking peer pressure?

Just do it, you fucking pussy!

Yeah, come on. I'm doing one, man. Don't be a pussy.

Do it, Bubs! Do it!

This is what peer pressure is,

right here! What is?

We're not... Just fucking do it!

Just fucking do it, Bubs. Come on!

Oh, my God! All right!

L'Chaim, motherfucker!

Cheers.

Fuck's sakes...

(Gibberish)

Well I guess there's one more thing to do.

What's that?

Get more fucked up! (Laughing)

More fucked up that what this is going to fuck us up?

Hell yeah! Snoop said y'all are just as crazy as he is.

Well, surprise...

So am I!

Right the fuck on, man!

We should get over to the T Box.

Tyrone and the Rocpile got the bus over there,

that'll hotbox the balls right off you!

It's fucking killer! Oh, shit!

Let's do that shit right now, cuz.

Fucking right! Oh, my God, those guys...

Cory: Dudes? What?

You need to come in and see this right now.

See what?

Fuck, is Jacob turning red again?

Who's the mothafucker in the tank top?

He's Cory. He's not that smart.

A'ight.

Ricky: What did you fucking diddle dummies fuck up this time?

Newscaster: (On TV) The trailer appears to belong

to ex-cop turned notorious alcoholic... Oh my sweet fuck.

Jim Lahey... Bubbles: Ricky!

...supervisor of the Sunnyvale Trailer Park,

who went missing yesterday

with his co-worker and fiancé. (Snort)

Eyewitnesses report seeing two bodies in the water

that eventually sank. (Giggling)

Police say they have strong leads on possible suspects...

(Chuckling) ...and the investigation continues.

For Channel 10 Breaking News... Oh my God.

...I'm Steve "No Nonsense" Rogers.

My fuck, boys,

we killed Lahey and Randy!

(Theme music)

So how do you like LA, dude? I bet I'd like LA.

Bubbles: Jesus, Ricky!

Cory, what are you doing? Get your hand down.

Get back to work, man. We've got to get this done.

Hey, what's with all the cameras, cuz?

They're just documenting our lives, man.

It's all good. Don't worry about it.

Oh, fuck, Ricky!

Oh, okay. I'm out, dudes, see you later!

Bubbles: Oh my God, this is it, boys!

Hey, where you guys off to in such a rush?

Ricky: We're not off to any place, man.

What's up, guys?

Oh, I think you know what's up.

I'm going to need you to come downtown

to answer a few questions about the disappearance

and possible murder of Jim and Randy.

(Chuckling)

You know anything about that?

No. No idea what you're talking about.

You got any evidence?

Yeah, actually, we do. Oh.

That's why I need all of you to come downtown.

(Chuckles) You too.

So we can do this the easy way

or we can do it the hard way. Your choice.

Yo, what are you talking about,

evidence, Officer?

(Chuckling) Against me?

I got to town, like, an hour ago.

Okay, you need to calm down!

Calm down?

The fuck, LAPD McLoving-looking mothafucka!

I'm calm. I'm as calm as fuck.

Okay, down on the ground,

down on the ground! (Indistinct sputtering)

On the ground. On the...

I know the drill, all right? Hey...

Jesus Murphy! He was being calm!

He wasn't doing anything!

Hey! What the hell is wrong with you mothafuckas?

Officer: Mother-what? Mothafuckas!

You called us mother-what? Yeah! Oh, I'm sorry.

Okay, everybody, hands behind your backs.

Oh, this is bullshit!

Okay, just...

Ricky! Ricky! Just...

Cuff 'em! Cuff him!

Okay, everybody. Just calm down.

Ricky: Fuck!

Oh, this is a beautiful day, Julian.

Julian: Guys, they got nothing on us,

don't fucking worry about this.

Bubbles: (Whimpering)

You can stop twisting my wrist...

Ricky: This is absolutely fucking ridiculous! You guys are...

(Whispering) I told you the liquor would tell us what to do!

We did it, bud!

(Kissing)

Okay, what do we do next?

The liquor's brilliant, sir.

It sure is, Randilly-bar.

That's what I've been fucking trying to tell you!

(Engine starting)

On to Plan B, bud.

Won't that be Phase Two, though, Mr. Lahey?

I mean, busting them for the weed is the next step

but it's all still part

of the same plan, isn't it?

Yeah, absolutely right, Randy.

It's Phase Two.

Wait. What if someone sees us, though, Mr. Lahey?

If anyone knows we're alive,

it all falls apart! You're right, you're right.

We need to liquor-think this through, Ran.

What was that?

It wants to talk to you, Ran.

Disguises.

Ta-da!

Now it's on to Plan B.

God, Ricky, what was in that fucking stuff?

Every time I think

I'm getting my faculties back,

I get hit with another wave of this shit!

(Chuckling) I know, it's really floaty.

Isn't it fucking awesome?

It's not awesome!

It's freaking me the fuck out!

Come on, Bubbles, get it together.

Get it together...

I smell a huge fucking lawsuit

for this pile of hamster fucking shit!

You got fuck all on us!

Yeah and they got fuck all on me.

This is fucking ridiculous!

Hillbilly backward bitches.

Fuck... (Chuckling)

Oh fuck, look who it is!

It's Harvey Hightell from the fucking Bad Sheriff movie!

You can't fucking keep us here with no evidence,

George, you fucking prick!

Yeah, mothafucka.

I want the fuck out of here, cuz,

or we gonna have a serious problem, you dig?

Or I'm going to let Snoop's lawyer

on your mothafuckin' ass. You dig?

Hm! None of you guys

are going anywhere.

You really fucked up this time.

You want evidence?

We found this inside a liquor bottle

floating in Lahey's trailer.

According to what's written here,

Jim and Randy found out about a drug deal

you were doing.

So you all shrink-wrapped them in their trailer

and pushed them into the water

to die a slow, terrifying death by drowning.

And what the fuck does that got to do with me, cuz?

Please tell me!

Oh, letter says that Snoop was sending

Sammy Og to do the deal.

I'm guessing that would be you.

That's Sammy OG, Original Gangsta. Get it right!

George: Ah, whatever.

I knew you guys were stupid. But murder?

(Snort)

Oh, Julian...

Are you going to grant us permission

to search your trailer or do I have to go through all the bullshit

of getting a warrant?

What the fuck do you think, George?

(Chuckling)

Dumb question.

Dumb question? This is a dumb situation!

What the fuck! And why the fuck

would you tell him about me, man?

Man, we didn't say shit!

We're not that fucked.

Then who did?

Just a second, Ricky.

Why are your fucking eyes darting back and forth

a million miles an hour? They're not!

Well, I was trying to see, like,

everything around me all at once.

Oh, like a fucking chameleon?

What?

Look at them. Look at them, Julian.

What the fuck, Ricky? No, you didn't, man.

Fuck!

That fucking day I went golfing with him,

I thought he was my dad.

I may or may have told him

Snoop was sending Sammy to do the deal

and we were going to make a lot of money.

Fuck! What the...

I should kill you right now!

Why the fuck would you tell him that?

Are you fucking dumb? Hmm? Are you a fucking dope?

I'm not dumb. I didn't tell him you were going

to fucking help us to kill someone. Oh!

Fuck... Boys...

We might never get out of here.

(Bells jingling)

Congratulations, Raggedy Ran.

You finally made it on to the force, bud.

Hey! You look wonderful

in that fucking costume!

I don't know, Mr. Lahey.

I thought the point of all this

was not to get recognized.

Oh, well, it is.

But when you think about it,

we are basically cops.

Right, Randers?

Well, yeah, pretty much.

Yeah, and...

sometimes the best place to hide

is right out in the open. Right.

You know what they say, Randers.

Sometimes what you see

is not always what you get.

Frig, Mr. Lahey. I don't know.

Randy,

the liquor is telling us what to do.

We got to fucking listen to it!

What?

Time to take it up a notch, Ayn Randers.

Why the fuck does this always happen?

All I wanted to do was run

a simple fucking pizza sauce company.

You got me involved

in a fucking massive drug deal at sea

and now I'm in jail on suspicion of murder.

Oh my God! (Whimpering)

Sammy OG: Calm down. Hell, cuz. (Plopping)

I've charged with way bigger stuff many times

and I ain't even tripping, cuz.

(Sniffing) Ooh, you stink!

Look, things are going to work themselves out.

Goddamn...

Steinberg: Hello, boys.

Thank fuck.

Now I've got some good news and some bad news.

They've officially charged you but...

they've agreed to let you out on bail.

Yes!

Ba ba ba ba ba ba! Not just yet.

It's not going to be cheap.

It's attempted murder and some other shit.

You better hope to God they don't find those bodies.

How much are we talking?

It's going to be 10 grand.

10 grand! Oh, my fuck! We're doomed!

Hey, don't worry. I got this. 10 Gs...

Ba ba ba ba ba ba!

That's each.

40 fucking grand? Yeah.

I'm gonna shit myself! I'm gonna shit myself!

That's just to make bail.

Now look, I've...

I'm waiving every possible fee on my end,

you know. But the law is the law.

I know 40 K is a lot.

We got it, okay?

We'll get it on the other end.

Don't worry, you'll get it back anyhow.

Snoop'll be cool. You got it?

Got it, man.

Yeah, well, I figured there was, uh,

probably some kind of deal at play here.

And I'm assuming that there's something somewhere

you don't want anyone to find?

Various: Yeah.

In my trailer and the back of his truck.

You've got to get a hold of Cory and Jacob

and tell them to get all of the fucking garbage bags

and lobster boxes out of there immediately.

Okay? Okay. I can do that.

Now they're filing for a search warrant

but, you know, I might be able to delay it

for a couple hours, you know,

for a small fee...

Do it. Okay? Just do it.

Ba ba ba ba ba ba!

Oh... okay. Great!

Wow, check this out, boys. Holy fuck! What the f...?

Why does it look like that? Jesus Murphy...

Ricky! (Flushing)

That's my life right there.

Down the drain!

Hey.

Just relax, Randy.

See? No one's the wiser, bud.

Wow...

It feels good, doesn't it?

It feels great, Mr. Lahey.

We're really doing it.

Yeah, we really... We should have did it

years ago, Randy!

Look, as soon as we get the money,

I'm going to call Ted, tell him about the dope.

They'll have enough evidence

to lock up those shitiots

for fucking shiternity, Randy!

I wonder how much first class tickets are.

Some of the planes even have beds on them.

Yeah, that's the mile high club, Ran.

Mile high club!

The mile high club. Mile high club.

The mile...

Goddamn shit soldiers, Randy!

They must be moving it to a new shit nest

for the queen of shit himself!

Yeah, okay, I'll be in touch with you guys

about the extra charges.

Ricky: Steinberg, think you can you give us

a lift back to the park?

Oh, Jesus. I wish I could

but, with the extra weight, well,

I think I'd need some gas money.

Gas money? Goddamn,

you one greasy mothafucka, ain't you?

Yeah, you know, that'll probably be

the end of my shocks too, realistically.

So, uh...

We're not paying for your fucking shocks!

Everybody get in. I call shotgun.

Fuck it. I call shotgun.

What are you talking about? I just called it.

I'm not going in the mothafuckin' back!

Are you crazy, cuz?

Julian: I'm not getting in the back fucking seat, okay?

I paid for the fucking gas money.

Sammy: You know, fuck it, all right?

Fuck it, just fuck it. I'll give you 50 bucks

to go in the back seat.

Have you got change? No.

I'll get in the back.

Hurry up, man. Get in.

Bubbles: Ricky, don't pile...

You fucking live in this thing?

Bubbles: Ricky, I've already got fucking oil on me.

Come on in, guys.

Ricky: This is fucked! We can't fit...

Skooch over, man.

Lots of room, plenty of room.

Julian: Skooch over! Fuck!

Someone take this.

Jesus Murphy.

Julian: Oh, for fuck... I can't,

I'm not in, boys. Ricky: Ah, fuck me!

Come on, cuz. Move the fuck over!

Ricky: Holy fuck, boys!

There's a fucking pair of pliers going in my ribs!

Okay, now watch the leather,

watch the leather.

Various: Watch my foot! Oh, shit!

The leather, mothafucka?

This ain't mothafuckin' leather.

It's real leather.

Why the fuck you got rubbers, cuz?

Yeah, I might need that for the subway.

Okay, listen, everybody got their seatbelts on?

Ricky: Just fucking drive!

(Engine choking)

Dammit, you guys had the doors open so long

you drained the battery.

How the fuck have you got cockroaches in this bitch?

Julian: Fuck this! Everybody out! Everybody out!

Yeah, abort! Abort!

(Groaning)

Jesus Christ!

Jesus Murphy...

Steinberg, let's go with my money.

Oh, fine.... Lobster shells in there!

Have you got my mothafuckin' money?

Well, this is weird.

I don't even know how this is possible.

I think I lost it. How crazy is that?

Goddamn, mothafucka!

You fucking ruthless, you know that?

Next time Snoop's in trouble,

I'm giving your ass a call.

Hell yeah. Call me any time.

Yo, T. We need you to pick us up.

Jail.

There's no way that a snake could beat you

in a fist fight because it doesn't have fists.

So I don't understand why anyone loses to a snake.

(Siren wailing) But if if curls up in a ball, couldn't it, like,

really give you a good shot that way?

Yeah, sure, but it has to have an arm to be on

in order to swing it. (Siren continues)

Dude, dude. What? Cops behind us, man.

Oh, shit! Well, we just... Just let them go by. Just go...

(Siren wailing)

Oh, fuck, what do we do, man?

I don't know, dude.

Fuck, fuck, fuck! Oh, fuck! Oh man.

They're trying to pull us over, dude. Oh shit.

Lahey: Get the fuck over there,

you fucking asshole! Okay, okay, okay...

Cory: Don't say anything, dude.

I'll do the talking. I'll do the talking.

(Siren stops)

Cory: All right. Uh, uh... Shit.

Fuck's sakes.

(Laughing)

Jack-pot! Hey, d'you get it?

I sure do, Mr. Lahey.

Because it's pot.

Fucking jack-pot! Good one.

We're in liquor synchronicity. (Laughing)

Hey!

You're not dead! Awesome!

We thought you guys were the real cops.

Why are you guys dressed like that?

Where did you get the car?

Enough of the fucking small talk, boys!

Where's the fucking money,

you stupid little shit pissants?

What fucking money? Don't... touch me.

What fucking money?

The money that Snoop Dogg paid

for all this fucking dope!

What do you think I am? Stupid, Cory?

Well, obviously you are stupid

because it's not even dope that anyone is buying

if they were buying anything at all.

Uh, they're not buying anything.

Okay. You want to fucking play tough,

Mr. fucking tough guys?

Get your fucking cocksuckers in my car!

Get the fuck in the car right now!

You're under arrest for burglary!

Get in!

Cory: Stop throwing the gun around, dude.

Hop in, Ranbers!

Cory: What are you doing? (Engine starts)

Jacob: You guys are cra... What are you doing?

You know, you can't leave that shit there.

(Remote phone ringing)

Julian: Come on, boys.

Answer the fucking phone!

Cory: (On phone) Yo, what's up, dude?

Holy fuck! Where the fuck are you guys?

Cory: I'm just fucking with you.

You've reached Cory and Jacob's phone.

We can't come to the phone right now,

so leave us a message! Rawr!

Nice message, assholes.

Where the fuck are you guys at?

I need to talk to you. Call me.

It's urgent!

Fuck, they're dumb.

Maybe they're not.

They sure made you look stupid.

That was pretty brilliance, I must say.

Julian, just call my phone.

I'm pretty sure it's in my truck.

Maybe, if they hear that ringing,

they'll answer it.

Don't get tricked again, though, Julian.

Bubbles might have a trick message

just like Cory and Jacob.

Ricky, I'm sitting right here.

Even if I did, like,

how would that be a trick?

It might be, though. Think about that one.

Bubbles: (On phone) Hi, you've reached

Bubbles' Scrumpdilly Organico Sauce Company,

pizza division. Please leave a message...

Fuck!

Maybe the cops got them too.

Did you ever think of that?

Like, they could be getting questioned as we speak.

Man, they might be dumb but they're not fucking dicks.

They'd never rat us out.

Don't worry about it.

Not on purpose maybe.

(Electricity sizzling)

Lahey: Time to start talking, boys,

or I'll send goddamn 110 shit amps

through your shitty little bodies!

What's Snoop and his guys buying

if it isn't the weed?

I don't know, I don't know!

(Whimpering) (Sizzling)

How did that feel, Cory?

Keep lying, I dare you!

I'll do anything, whatever you want.

Don't ask for that.

No, dude, don't tell him about the De-energy!

Ricky will fucking be pissed!

De-energy? Fuck.

It's okay, dude. They don't know what it is

and there's no way they can ever find out

about where the deal's happening on the ocean tomorrow

because we don't even know. So...

Five Hour De-energy!

Ricky makes it out of weed.

Of course, Mr. Lahey!

Is that what it is?

Is that what Snoop's boys are buying

on the ocean tomorrow?

You better tell me where Ricky keeps his stash,

you shit-glazed shit!

(Screaming) (Buzzing)

Does it hurt, Cory?

Fuck yeah! (Indistinct)

(Buzzing) (Screaming)

Ah... it hurts! Enough!

Stop shocking him. You can shock me instead.

Ah! No, I changed my mind!

Don't shock me instead, please...

Cory, we can keep doing this all day

or you can just tell me

where Ricky keeps the goods.

(Buzzing) (Screaming)

Hey, stop it! It's on Bubbles' truck!

Leave him alone, fuck!

It's on Bubbles' truck?

(Whimpering)

Oh. Well, that's a shocking development.

Have a nice day, boys.

Give me that...

(Muffled music)

I need a blunt!

Motherfuckers, your prisons

are like preschool. Know what I mean?

Good luck, T!

Oh, my fucking gosh.

They seized our shit.

What the fucking... Jules!

You better fix this shit right fucking now!

I'm working on it. (Remote phone ringing)

They must not have found the weed

or you'd be back in fucking jail.

Bubbles: Yeah, but the fact that the truck's gone,

Cory and Jacob must have came through.

Try calling my phone again.

What do you think I'm fucking doing?

No. It went to voice mail.

But it was ringing? Yes, it was ringing.

Okay, well that means the fucking thing's on, then.

That's a good sign.

Pull up the Find My Phone app.

Do you have that? The what?

Find My Phone app, yeah,

I got that shit right here, cuz.

I lose this bitch all the time.

All right.

It's gonna cost you, all right?

Yeah. Okay, just wait.

You just call someone up and they find your phone?

No, Ricky, look. I punch in my number

and it should tell us where it is.

Okay, look. Here it is.

They're out on Doodle-puller Road.

Why the fuck would they be way out there?

Oh, fuck! I bet they pulled over

so Jacob could shit

and the fucking bears or cougars got them.

Bears and cougars... what?

They're fucking probably dead again!

Ricky, what are you talking about?

Cory: Dudes! Ricky: Poor fuckers.

Julian: What the fuck happened to you guys?

Randy and Lahey are alive!

They held us captive!

They shocked us with a wire.

They're fucking crazy.

So what did you tell them?

They tortured us! Look at my nips!

Not much, dude.

We just told them that the deal

was going down tomorrow

and you're actually only selling

De-energizer, not weed. Oh, what?

So they've got the truck with all the shit on it?

No. Thank fuck.

Well, dude, they know where it is, though.

And I'm pretty sure they're on their way there now.

Oh my fuck, you guys are dumb! Fuck!

You're one dumb piece of shit, you know that?

Ugh!

Julian: All right, let's go! Come on!

Ricky: Fuck's sakes!

(Indistinct) ...very nice.

Ricky: Fucking unlock me! Fuck!

(Car doors slamming)

(Engine starting)

(Engine revving)

Hey!

What about us?

Okay, boys. It's just up here

about a fucking mile. Right on.

It looks like.

I can see it.

Just wait a second,

it looks like it's fucking moving.

What? It is moving!

It's coming right towards us.

Jesus Christ, Lahey beat us to it!

Oh, fuck! No he didn't!

The fucking cops got it!

He must have fucking called them.

We're fucked, boys!

No, I'm fucked! That's my truck!

Hey! Hey, hey!

What? What? Turn the car around right now, cuz!

What? What do you mean, turn it around?

What do you mean, what do I mean?

I ain't leaving here without my shit!

I ain't a mothafuckin' mathematician

but there's two of them

and one, two, three, four of us, motherfuckers!

What the fuck are you talking about? Seriously?

Yeah, man. What the fuck?

This is about to be a hommo case up in this bitch if you don't turn

this mothafuckin' car around!

Okay, Julian, turn the fucking car around!

Sammy, you best get that fucking gun

out of my neck, motherfucker!

Or what?

Bubbles: Julian, set your drink down and use your muscles!

Julian: Let me fucking do it, man!

Sammy: What the fuck?

You're giving me mothafuckin' whiplash!

Julian: Settle the fuck down.

Bubbles: Ricky, why don't you hold his drink

so the man can use both his...

Julian: Just get your hands off my fucking drink!

All right, cuz, ...faster.

There you go. Passing up...

Sammy: All right, cut him off.

Bubbles: Julian, don't do this.

Sammy: Cut him off!

I'm cutting him off! I'm cutting him off!

Fast and the Furious! Come on!

Bubbles: For fuck's sakes, Julian!

Ricky: This is fucked!

Oh, my fuck. Now what?

All right, listen,

it's like you've seen in the movies, cuz.

We goin' to get out of this car

and we goin' to unload on them mothafuckas.

You feel me? What? Unload?

We can't fucking unload on them!

They're cops, boys! Please, come on, Julian,

this is getting too crazy!

Lahey: (On megaphone) Exit the vehicle please,

with your hands in the air!

Was that fucking Lahey?

Who the fuck is Lahey, mothafucka?

He's a drunk, crazy, fucking deranged lunatic,

who used to be a cop.

It fucking sounded like him.

Lahey: Come on, Shitulian! Against the car!

Come on, spread that beautiful frame.

This mothafucka know you?

Jesus Christ.

It's definitely him.

"Spread your beautiful frame"?

What the fuck?

I want you all to put your hands up.

Randy: You guys almost killed us!

The jig is up.

You're going to pay up, boys.

Hey! You better put that gun away, mothafucka!

Right now. One, two, three.

There you go.

Do you want me to pop a cap

in your mothafuckin' ass, boy? What?

You want some lead in your head? Huh?

Yeah! Yeah?

Yeah! What?

Okay! Okay?

I don't fucking care!

Put a fucking cack in my head! Cack?

Go on, do it!

Fucking put me out of my misery, bud!

Oh, Mr. Lahey! Do it!

Don't! I love you, Mr. Lahey.

Why?

Look, frig all this stuff!

Let's just... We don't have

to fly to Ireland and get married.

Let's just walk away.

Lahey: I'm sorry, Randy. Ireland?

You're right, bud.

I'm out of control. Excuse me.

I got so fucked over losing Mo

and I spent half my fucking life trying to love

this dumb fucking shit-covered shit-log

and he's not even my fucking son!

Thank fuck!

I don't want to take it any more.

Go ahead.

Anyway...

none of this matters any more, boys.

You know why?

Because we're fucked!

Take a look at that.

Various: Oh, fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

Lahey: Yeah, that's a little bit... (Siren honking)

...of a sweet shit-tasting irony, isn't it?

Fuck! I'm not going to mothafuckin' jail, cuz! Fuck this!

Put the gun away! Put the fucking gun away!

Put the fucking gun away!

We're not fucking getting

in a gunfight with the cops!

Okay, listen! Listen.

Lahey? Yeah?

We've all be through a lot here, okay? Right.

If I can somehow get us all out of this shit,

you have to promise to leave us the fuck alone.

Don't tell the cops about the deal.

We'll get it done and everything at the trailer park

will go back to fucking normal.

You have our word. Right, boys?

Various: Yes, yeah.

How does that sound, Mr. Lahey?

I just want to be together.

I'd rather not be in jail.

All right... okay. Beautiful.

Thank fuck, it's Ted Johnson,

the second dumbest cop on the force.

Well, look who's alive after all!

Nice outfits.

New car, Jim?

Nice beard. Both of them.

So this is where you've been, eh?

Busy buying costumes

and stealing police cars.

That's a really nice suit you got there, bud.

Fucking... it must be really expensive. I'm impressed.

Well, Ted, thank fuck you're here, man.

Crazy fucking morning, man!

We were on our way down to the wharf

and a guy flagged us down

who was driving this police car here

and he said he was an undercover cop.

Ted: Okay?

Well, of course we pulled over.

We like helping the police whenever we can.

Anyway, he said he ran out of gas

and he had two of Satan's Bastards in the car.

It was really fishy.

Like, he was really super fucking nervous.

So I looked in the car and quickly realized

it was fucking Lahey and Randy in the back seat.

They were tied up. Right.

I was, like, "Bud, you are full of shit.

You're not an undercover cop."

I fucking freaked out

and then I think he knew what was going on,

so he panicked and fucking ran

through the tall grass here

and jumped in the water.

The last I saw of him he was half-way across

the land there, swimming. It was fucking crazy, man.

Like, you're going to have to go

after the fucking guy.

Wow, that is pretty crazy. Yeah!

It's quite a story. Yeah.

Now, Jim. Hm?

Do you want to tell me what's really going on here?

Yeah, well, Ricky told you the absolute truth.

If it wasn't for these guys,

Randy and I, we'd be fucking dead by now, Ted.

Right. Right...

And you fucking police dummies

made them go through hell. Hm!

Instead of being out looking for them,

you accuse us of fucking murdering them.

You better drop those charges

and give us back our fucking money!

Just shut up, Ricky.

I will for a second. That's it. Shut up!

Fuck off!

And Jim... Hm?

What about that letter that you wrote?

The one we found in your camper.

You know?

Yeah, you were telling us about that.

It was the kidnappers, was it?

Oh! The fucking kidnapper!

He forced me to do it at gunpoint, Ted!

Fucking heavy duty shit.

You guys are all so full of shit!

I have to shit...

But you know what? No.

I don't even care any more.

Now I've got a police matter

that I have to deal with.

It's a real one.

So, Randy,

in order to make sure

that the paperwork on this

is filed properly,

I'll have to see you later.

Actually,

we both will.

For frig's sakes.

Ricky: For what?

Ted: You take my car.

I'll grab the cruiser that these idiots stole.

And the next time... (Engine starts)

any of you people even get

as much as a parking ticket,

I'm going to throw your ass in jail

so fast it'll make your heads spin!

You got that?

Absolutely. Yep.

I don't live here but sure, cuz.

Good.

Fuck, my eyes are really dry.

I don't know what the fuck's going on there.

Keys are in the ignition, Ted!

Mothafucka!

You was one slick Rick mothafucka!

I fuck with your shit!

Real good! You should be

on my mothafuckin' payroll, cuz. I got you!

Thank God cops are dumb.

That was a way fucking better plan than you had.

"Let's blast everybody!"

That's all I know.

Randy: Thanks for keeping us out of jail, Ricky.

Okay, boys!

What's next on the agenda?

This is what's next.

Julian, what are you doing?

Julian!

I thought we had a deal!

There is no deal.

Get the fuck in my trunk.

(Gun click)

Ricky: (Chuckling)

(Theme music)

(Seabirds squawking)

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

Fuck off! Jesus Christ!

(Whisper) Fuck.

(Light clicks off) Fuck off.