Original subtitles

(Guns clicking)

Boys, I'm sorry I can't come on this one with you

but my nerves are just too shot

and somebody in this area scares the fuck out of me.

Don't worry about it, Bubs. You stay here and relax, all right?

We can take care of this, no problem.

Just make sure those idiots don't get out of there

until the fucking deal's done, okay?

Lahey: (From trunk) Julian, please! I'll do anything.

I'm fucking... (Indistinct)

Randy: Please, Julian. I've got really bad gas!

Just keep drinking until you pass out, you fucking drunk. (Farting)

I'll give you something to fucking chew on right now, cuz.

Over the rainbow, motherfuckers.

Let's go.

All right, let's do it. Ricky: See you soon, Bubs.

Okay, I'm going to be over in my shed.

I'll come and check on you guys though,

and I'll make sure you have water later.

Lahey: Wait! Bubs!

Don't walk away, Bubbles, come on, bud!

I'll make you a deal.

Nope, sorry. No fucking deals. No way.

Randy: Please, Bubbles, we could die in here.

It's inhumane. It's hot.

For fuck's sakes, all right.

Just... hang on.

Look, I'll send you some...

delicious roast chicken chips down the fucking pipe here.

Barb: Bubbles? These go great with liquor.

(Crunching)

Bubbles? Ahh!

Bubbles, I got back as quick as I could.

Did you... Have you heard anything about Jim?

Uhh, no I haven't. I've been really...

busy just putting chips in my gas tank here.

Lahey: Barb! Is that you, Barb?

Jim! Jim!

What is he doing in there, Bubbles?

You let him out right now!

Look, Barb, I can't do that.

He's hard on the liquor.

Lahey: No, he's lying, Barb.

I haven't even had a drink.

Julian kidnapped us.

Us? Wh... who do you mean, us?

Randy: Hi, Barb.

Oh, my God. Randy!

Bubbles, you open that trunk right now

or you will be evicted from this park!

I can't do that, Barb, even if I wanted to.

I don't have the keys.

Oh, rea... I don't have the keys.

Oh, really? What, you mean these keys?

I'm coming, Jim.

Look, Barb. You can't open that.

Look, there's more at play here than you know.

Oh, Jim. (Grunting)

What the hell is going on?

Jesus Murphy.

Randy and I are both on the force now, Barb.

What? Oh my God, you are drunk.

(Slurring) No, I'm not.

What the hell has happened here?

You promised me that you were going to be supervising the park.

Well, the liquor's supervising the park, Barb.

The liquor's supervising the park,

and it's supervising me,

and it's supervising Randy,

and it's supervising this too.

No! Jim! Jim, Jim, Jim.

Jim, let him go right now.

I can't do that, Barb.

Bubbles, are you hungry, bud?

(Straining) Uhh, a little bit. Why?

'Cause we're going to an all-you-can-eat shit buffet.

(Theme music)

Well, things are all set up.

We've got Snoop's guys, they're on their way with the boat

and I'm feeling pretty fucking good about everything.

Now all we've got to do is just stick to the plan.

(Phone ringing)

What's going on?

Ricky: I fucked up, man. I've got to stop for gas.

No, no, no, no. You're not... Ricky. Rick...

For fuck's sakes.

(Bubbles whimpering)

Bubbles: Please, Mr. Lahey, please let me out of here.

I don't like the dark! (Whimper)

Oh, it's not very nice in there, is it, Bubbles?

Make sure the shit spiders don't get you, bud.

Bubbles: (Screaming) What? Shit spiders?

Good day, gentlemen.

I'd like to have every goddamn ounce of liquor

and every fucking gun

you've got in the goddamn joint.

What the fuck are you talking about?

You better back the fuck off

or you'll get knocked the fuck out.

That's right, bitch. Who the fuck do you think you are anyways?

Good idea. (Gunshot)

(Mixed shouting)

Are you fucking crazy? What the fuck?

I don't know.

Am I? Man: (Moaning in pain)

Are you calling the liquor crazy?

Huh?

You're fucked up.

You've got beautiful eyes.

Fuck off, Lahey.

Okay, boys... Guns now!

Give me the fucking guns now!

(Indistinct chatter) Sammy O.G: Jeez, cuz.

Yo, this shit right here, cuz?

This shit is sweet and salty.

That shit's pretty nice, eh?

Yeah... It's the shit.

Julian: What the fuck are you doing, man?

I told you not to stop!

I needed fucking gas, Julian. It's not my fault.

Sammy wanted to try some pepperoni.

This shit is tight, cuz.

Oi! Would you mind putting that cigarette out

before you blow us all up, you fucking dummy!

It's not a fucking cigarette, it's a joint, dummy.

And you can't fucking blow yourself up at the gas pumps with a cigarette.

I saw it on Myth-dusters. So tongue my tasty balls.

It is gas vapour and...

an ignition source.

You're damn right you could blow us up.

Oh, my fuck, yeah. Look at me. I'm going to blow up the world.

A little bit gas and a fucking weed joint.

Ricky, what are you doing? Ricky, get up.

Get up, get up, Ricky! Man: Sir!

Extinguish the cigarette and step away from the pumps!

Holy fuck, man. Everybody calm the fuck down. Nothing can happen here.

Put it out now or I'm calling the cops. All right. I'll put it out.

Just let me have a couple more drags.

Call the goddamn cops on him anyway!

Julian: Hey, hey, listen.

Here, want this? Fucking take it!

Julian: Ricky, that's enough!

Listen, my friend here is on medication, okay?

He doesn't know what he's saying.

You apologize to these nice people.

All right. I'm sorry that you two are so fucked!

That's enough!

All right, okay, don't got to call the cops.

We're leaving now, anyway. All right?

(Phone ringing) Thanks, man.

What the fuck is wrong with this world? Get in the fucking car.

Fucking idiots.

(Phone ringing)

Yo, what up, T? ...so fucking a-scared of everything.

Yo, Julian, man. Mr. Lahey just busted in the trailer, man

and shot Mr. Green in the leg.

He fucking took off with a bunch of guns and liquor, man.

Julian: (On phone) What? Are you fucking kidding me?

Where's Bubbles? I don't know, man.

It sounded like he was in the trunk.

Oh, my fuck.

All right, all right.

We've got to go. We've got to go!

Get in your fucking car and let's go!

What's happening? We've got to go!

Oh fuck, don't blow yourself up there, dickhead. (Engine ignition)

Fuck's sakes.

Cory: (Speaking indistinctly)

Fuck.

Sammy O.G.: Hold on!

Ah, fuck. Ah, fuck!

Julian: Bubs, I'm on my way.

Sammy O.G.: Ah..

(Siren wailing, engine revving)

Okay, Cory, Jacob, I'm going to fucking pull over.

When I do, you guys jump out,

fucking tell the cop to fuck off, tell him to suck your cock.

Do whatever you have to do, just make them fucking chase you

so you get them away from us, all right? What?

No talking, boys. This is your fuck-up.

You're going to have to make it look good. And make them fucking go after you.

Ready? Yeah... fuck...

Right... Bail, bail, bail!

Good luck, boys. Good luck.

Cory & Jacob: Hey, you! Fuck you... pig! Suck my di-i-ick.

Jacob: Okay, go, go, go. Run.

Where the fuck are you guys going?

What are they doing?

This is some bullshit, cuz. It didn't work!

Fuck!

(Siren wailing) Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!

Jesus Christ, Ricky. (Turn signal clicking)

(Siren stops)

Hey.

Hey, officer. Can I help you?

Mind telling me who you were talking to on the phone

that was so important you needed to break the law?

Uhh, I wasn't talking on the phone, man.

Mind stepping out the vehicle, sir?

Hey, what's in that glass, right there?

Fuck!

It's just root beer, man.

What's in these boxes?

Uh, it's just lobster. I'm just heading to the grocery store.

Grocery store's back that way.

Do you mind if I take a look inside these boxes, sir?

Well, they're...

Hey, are those dumb fucks coming back or what?

Fuck. Fuck! Fuck 'em!

Motherfucker, go! Shit.

They're all... I'm the delivery guy, man.

They're all shrink-wrapped up.

I don't know. You can smell them.

You can smell them, man. Just open one box for me. Come on.

Just open one box? Just one box.

Uhh... Which... This one here or this one here?

It doesn't matter. Just open a box. Officer!

What the fuck are you doing? There's a huge fucking accident over there

on Cole Harbour Road... What are you guys talking about?

It's fucking bad, people are mangled... What?

...there's these two fucking weird dudes waving guns around,

threatening people. Bang, bang! Are you serious?

Jesus Christ, nothing came in over the radio. Yeah!

You're going to wait for this to come in over the radio, man?

People are fucking dying! Get the fuck over there now!

Bodies everywhere! All right, all right, all right, God damn it.

Wait right here. Unit 27. I need back-up. ...small engine repair.

We've got a... 10-54 on Cole Harbour Road, possible 10-32.

Dumb fuck. A possible 10-32. (Engine ignition)

(Siren wails) That was a real cheers, motherfucker.

Go, go, go, go, go, go, go!

I don't know how you do it, man, but thanks, buddy.

Cops are fucking dumb.

We're down two guys because of fucking two other dummies.

Let's go, let's go. Fuck's sakes.

(Whimper) Where are the fucking boys?

I don't know.

And where's this fucking thing going down, Bubbles?

I don't know! I don't know anything!

Really? (Gunshot)

(Whimpering) I'm not fucking around, Bubbles!

I know, I know you're not. I see that.

But... I'm not afraid of you, Mr. Lahey.

I know there's a good person in there behind this liquor veil.

I know that you would never shoot me.

Oh? Bubbles,

I just watched Mr. Lahey shoot Mr. Green

not 20 minutes ago. What?

We're not fucking around. What...

Right, Mr. Lahey? Right, Randy.

Bubbles,

I'm just going to ask you one more time

to take us to where the boys are,

or the cops are going to go

and you're going to have

a great big fucking hole in your leg.

(Whispering) Okay.

Yeah. (Seagulls cawing)

I got you, kid.

A'ight, listen up, boys.

They're pulling up to the drop point now, cuz.

Let's do this shit. Right on, man.

This calls for a celebratory fucking joint.

Ha-ha! My nigger. (Phone rings)

No, no, no, boys. We've got to go. Fuck that.

Bubbles: (on phone) Julian! What's up, Bubs?

Lahey and Randy got out. They've got me trapped in the fucking trunk now.

How the fuck did they get out?

Barb Lahey fucked everything up. I'm sorry, Julian.

I'm scared, I've never seen Lahey this crazy before.

All right... hang tight.

We're coming for you. Ricky: Yeah, Bubs.

I don't know if you have to, Julian.

I'm pretty sure we're on our way to you.

You told them where we are?

Well, he had a fucking gun pressed to my leg.

Yeah, sorry about that!

Look, just go get the deal done.

I'm going to try to MacGyver my way out of here.

Julian: All right.

Lahey's coming for us. We've got to go, boys.

All right, can you untie that, Sammy?

Motherfucker, I don't even roll my own blunts. Shit.

What the fuck? You can't untie a rope?

Ricky, untie it. Fuck's sakes.

Julian: Jesus, man.

It's all fucking wind-cocked.

Just fucking untie it.

Do you want me to shoot it off?

Put the fucking gun away, Sammy! Asshole, fuck off.

For fuck's sakes, Ricky.

All right. Are we good?

We're fucking ready to move! What are you waiting for?

Julian: Man, that boat is killer.

Yeah. Two million dollars.

Both: Two million? Yeah.

Holy fuck. (Indistinct)

Holy...

That's the kind of money I want, man.

Fucking right.

(Gunshots)

Fuck! Who the fuck is shooting at us?

Julian: Get rid of them!

Ah! Fuck!

Jesus Christ! (Engine whining)

Julian: Fuck!

...motherfuckers shooting at us right now.

Be ready to deal with that shit.

You know what? Fuck it! Spray them fools.

(Automatic weapon fire)

(Laughing) Fuck off!

Sammy O.G: (Indistinct) Julian: Yeah!

Sorry, man.

(Gunshot)

Holy fuck, it sucks to get shot in the hand.

It really fucking hurts!

Come on, guys. I led you to the fucking spot.

Can't you just let me go, please?

Oh, we can't let you go yet, Bubbaroo.

The festivities are just fucking getting started, bud.

You know... I always thought

that you had to let the liquor do the thinking.

But you know what? It's not enough.

You have to let the liquor

take ab-so-lute control.

That's the key to success.

Down the hatch, bud.

I can't chug all this, Mr. Lahey.

You can't chug all...

Randy, don't fucking question me!

I know what the fucking hell I'm doing!

Chug the fucking thing!

Mr. Lahey, you're having a liquor surge.

I don't give a fuck if I'm having a fucking liquor sur...

Randy, don't fucking question... (Angry muttering)

Just drink it, Randy. Just drink it.

You're fucking right, Bubbles.

Your fucking turn, bud. (Panting)

Yes, sir, you're going to thank me for this.

Oh, Mr. Lahey, I can't drink...

Yes, you fucking can, Bubbles.

There you are.

Hey, don't think about it, Bubbles.

Don't think about it.

Just do it, bud.

Just do it. (Gulping)

Go with the liquor, buddy.

Go with the liquor.

(Coughing)

Holy fuck!

That's everything. You got it, man. You got it.

Nice.

That is a done deal, motherfuckers.

Good doing business with y'all.

Here is your motherfuckin' money.

Julian: Right on.

Yeah.

Sammy O.G.: Minus the bail money you owe me.

Ricky: Holy fuck! (Laughter)

Oh, man.

Hey! Motherfucker, you crying right now?

No, man. It's just the most beautiful thing

I've ever seen in my life.

Oh, go ahead, count that shit, make sure it's all there.

No, we're good, man. I trust you guys.

Right on. All right, man.

(Indistinct) Thank you, guys. Thank you.

Yo, untie them fools.

(Motor roars)

Shit. (Laughs)

Awesome, man. Awesome.

Cheers, man!

Man, this money's fucking awesome.

It's pretty fucked-looking, though.

Man, it's real, man.

And we're getting fucking wasted tonight.

Ricky: Fucking right.

Wait now. We've got a bogey incoming at us.

Ricky: What? Is it the fucking cops?

Lahey: (Tuneless singing) Bubbles: (Indistinct shouting)

Julian: No, it's Lahey.

(Gunshots) Fuck! Shit, get down!

Ohh, fuck! I'm shot! Again! Bubbles: Boys, I'm fucking wasted!

They've got Bubbles. Stay down, Ricky.

Ricky: What the fuck are you idiots doing? Fuck off!

Lahey: Stop shooting at us!

Bubbles: Don't shoot, Ricky, don't shoot! Julian: Don't shoot, Ricky.

Fuck, stay down! Bubbles: (Whimpering, yelling)

Bubbles: He's got me, he's got me, boys.

Julian: What the fuck do you want, Lahey?

Lahey: Okay boys, throw your guns in the water!

You put your fucking guns down, right now.

The liquor has control of the situation.

Okay, don't fucking hurt Bubbles.

I won't hurt Bubbles

but I'm going to fucking shoot you, Julian.

I just shot Mr. Green

so I'm not going to have any fucking problem shooting you, bud.

He did too, and he blasted him. (Whimpering)

For fuck's sakes!

Lahey: Throw your fucking guns over, boys.

(Splashes)

Thank you very much.

Now fucking throw me over that money

that you know you've got in the fucking bag, Julian.

Not a fucking chance, you asshole.

Julian, do you know what a shit bubble is?

Julian: What? A shit bubble.

Now, Julian, a normal bubble,

when you put it in the water,

kind of rises to the top,

but a shit bubble, Julian...

a shit bubble sinks right to the goddamn bottom.

You fucking leave him alone!

Bubbles: Boys, don't let him put me in the water.

I'm fucking wasted!

You're drunk? I'm fucking shot twice over here, Bubbles!

Bubbles: I didn't want to get drunk.

I'm going to count to ten

and then I'm going to start carbonating the ocean

with shit bubbles.

Ten, nine,

eight, seven... Ricky: Fuck off!

We need music!

Hey, Julian! (Music plays)

Have you got a Speedo on under there

or are you more of a thong man?

Would you go fuck yourself!

Lahey: Oh, doesn't matter anyway,

because little Bubbles is going fucking swimming

if you don't send me the fucking money!

No, Julian. Don't let him put me in the ocean, Julian!

Lahey: Come on, Julian.

Bubbles: I'll sink!

Six... Give us the money, Julian!

five... four...

Frig off, Ricky! Three...

Wait, wait, wait! You...

You give him to us and we'll give you the money.

♪ Crazy Bubbles ♪ Julian...

♪ In the brine ♪ I can't go in the brine.

♪ Make me happy ♪ Come on, Julian.

Give him the money, Julian. It's fucking Bubbles here.

Why do you have to be such a fucking asshole all the time?

Four... Julian, I can't...

Julian, I'm fucking serious. Don't fuck with me.

Give him the fucking money! ...all right! All right!

Lahey: Three... Hang on, Bubs.

Fu-u-uck!

Give me the money, Julian...

Hey, Randers. Holy...

Ricky: Let him go! Let him go!

Lahey: We're fucking rich, Randy!

We fucking made it, Randy.

Rick, you fucking...

Man: (on radio) We've got reports of gunshots offshore.

Which one of you shot me, huh? Was it you, Randy?

Was it fucking you?

I'll shoot you frigging again. Frig off!

Oww. Okay, Bubs.

Julian: Come on, buddy. We've got you, buddy.

Bubbles: (Whimpering) Come on, buddy.

Lahey: Randy. Put your fucking gun up, Randy.

You're fucking dead. You are fucking dead.

Man: (on radio) Chief Green, suspects located. Moving in.

I finally fucking beat you, bud.

You lose, bud. (Boat approaching)

Man: (On loudspeaker) Everyone drop your weapons

and put your hands in the air! Now!

Listen, we are not armed!

We were fucking cruising around.

These idiots pulled up and shot us for no fucking reason!

Man: (On loudspeaker) All right, gentlemen, put your hands up now.

(Whimpers) Hands where I can see them.

We got our hands up.

Sir, put the beverage down,

and put your hands up.

What the fuck are you talking about? I'm shot, you asshole!

Man: (on radio) Scene is secure here, chief.

We're bringing both boats in now.

You might want to have an EMT on stand-by.

We've got a couple of gunshot wounds here. Over.

Yeah, take your time.

Let them bleed out for a little bit.

Why the fuck are we in handcuffs, you fucking dummies?

We were out there fishing, minding our own business.

These drunk pricks show up and shoot us for no fucking reason!

That's a pile of sheep shit, Ricky.

We were making a shit-izen's arrest.

Multiple gun fights out at sea.

Pretty subtle, guys. Ah, fuck off, George.

Ah, fuck! This was a big score, chief.

Get all of this down to evidence

and we'll get everything sorted out.

Oh, don't worry about it. I'll take care of it.

Chief Green.

I'm Detective Hartford, Internal Affairs.

I'll take these from you, sir.

Put your hands behind your back. Excuse me?

No, we've been watching you for a long time, George.

Money laundering, insurance fraud, theft of evidence.

We've got it all on tape too,

thanks to the awesome work of Officer Johnson here.

You're going to jail, George.

A wire, Ted?

Seriously?

You miserable little shit.

You're the one who should be investigated, not me.

Oh, I was being investigated, George.

But I sucked my way out.

Have fun in jail.

Fuck you!

You motherfucker!

You little bag-sucking whore!

Get the fuck back here!

Come here, you cocksucker!

I'm going to tear you a new one!

I'm going to shit down your fucking neck!

(Playing "Amazing Grace" on harmonica)

You know...

a lot of non-believers...

they think of people who talk to the liquor are crazy.

But, you know, they don't realize

that not only is the liquor a powerful entity,

it is an irresistible force.

It is all-knowing.

It is all-loving.

Talking to the liquor

is like talking to God.

Mr. Lahey's been really different

since he got back on the liquor this time.

It's worrying me.

Even though he hasn't had a drink in weeks,

he says that the liquor's still talking to him,

it's telling him what to do and how to think.

It's weird!

He's even talking about building a liquor altar,

whatever in the frig that is.

We just got goddamn lucky,

there's no other fucking way to say it.

You know, they didn't have any evidence tying us to a crime

technically, so they had no choice but to let us go, thank fuck.

It was a bump in the road for sure

but at least now I can get re-focused on my pizza sauce business,

keep my head down, work my nuts off

and just lead a clean, honest life.

You know, we did make a fucking lot of money but at the end of the day it was dirty money

and I'd rather not have anything to do with it.

And Ricky and Julian completely agree.

(Click of lighter)

(Puffing)

The whole doing things legit

and being honest shit is pretty fucking cool, I guess, but...

I just can't stop thinking

about how much money we made in 45 days.

We're never going to make that kind of money

making goddamn pizza sauce but...

yeah, I mean...

it is pretty fucking cool to be honest, I guess.

For Bubbles I mean.

(Squirrel chirps)

Seriously?

The little fucker thinks he's so fucking funny, doesn't he?

(Chirping continues) Don't move.

Don't make a fucking sound.

(Gunshots)

All that fucking money and it was mine.

Well, it was all of ours

but I had it right in my fucking hands.

I'm going to get it back.

I've just got to figure out how I'm going to do that.

It's all I can think about.

It's driving me fucking nuts.

Fuck's sakes.

Hm. Well, I should have known better

than to listen to Randy

and I should know better

than to listen to Bubbles, Ricky and Julian.

But, actually,

Julian and I have had long negotiations

over the last few evenings

and we've, uh...

we've come to an agreement.

He has promised that they're going to focus

on Bubbles' pizza sauce business

and, after all, that's good for the park and...

we may have to have more...

negotiations...

moving forward but...

I'm quite happy with the arrangement.

Hey, I've got no comment about Barb Lahey.

What's important is I'm back with Ricky and Bubbles,

you know, and I'd... pretty much do anything

for those two fucking guys.

(Sighs)

Fuck off with the camera, guys.

I'm not going to tell you again.

The only reason I'm in here

is because I wasn't blowing anybody.

And now I'm in here,

I'm probably going to have to do it just to stay alive.

Is that what you want me to say? That I'm going to be somebody's bitch?

Fuck you and everyone like you.

Fucking gobs of shit.

Normally...

I'd be pretty stressed out in a situation like this,

but the liquor said:

"This is all going to work out."

It told me not to worry,

(Whispering) I'm going to walk out of here

and that money, that's all going to be mine.

And Randy and I, we're going to get married in Ireland,

just like we planned,

and everyone's going to live happily ever after.

That's what the liquor said.

Yeah.

Praise be thy Lord, the liquor.

Benedicium dominum spiritus sancti.

(Theme music)

(Seabirds squawking)

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

Fuck off! Jesus Christ!

(Whisper) Fuck.

(Light clicks off) Fuck off.