Original subtitles

Went to the doctor the other day.

Was having some chest pains and sweating

like a camel whore in sand land.

Doc told me I'm okay, but I've got the high blood pressures

and high "clestrall," whatever the fuck that is.

Now I gotta eat this kinda shit. Got some cabbage here,

some beans, some broccoli, one of these "egglet" things,

and I got the Brussels sprouts.

Here you go. Another side of chicken gravy, sir.

Thank you, "gar-sin".

Bit of gravy kills the taste of this shit.

I mean, healthy food is not too fucking bad.

Huh?

Fuck, I got some power today.

That's the problem with eating this shit. It gives you tons of gas.

It smells worse than Satan's sweaty ass-pussy.

Ray fuck! Lord have mercy!

Oh, my God, that stinks!

There's my cue. Okay, everybody, my name's Tom Peterson.

I work for the fucking city. Smells like a gas leak.

The place could blow. I want everybody out now! Move it out.

Everybody out of the fucking restaurant!

Another restaurant, another free meal. Fuck you, dummies!

613? What in the slut

of my mother's cock is that at? Who the fuck is this?

CRA?

What the fuck does that mean?

Oh, okay. You're the tax dicks.

Yes, I know

what a fucking felony charge is.

Are you fucking shitting me right now? I owe 28 grand?

You better fuck off with the threats. I'll get it, okay?

Listen, fuck face, I'm not allowed to get angry

'cause of the high blood pressures,

and I'm trying to roll a fucking joint so I can get high,

so I have to fucking call you back.

Fuck off, CRA, you government tax fuckheads.

Why in the fuck is the oonaverse

shitting into my mouth and shoving a watermelon up my ass again? Why?

… 94, 95...

Oh, you fucking hard-packed son of a whore!

Bubs, can you chill for a sec? I'm trying to count over here.

Well, I'm fucking sorry.

Do you know how hard this ground's packed? It's like a diamond that King Kong shit!

Bubs, just relax. I'll help you out in a minute, okay?

Yeah.

96, 97, 98, 99, 10, 000.

Beautiful. Money well spent. Trust me.

Bubs, you sure you don't want in on this?

I don't want in on your bullshit.

Okay, well, you're gonna be sorry.

Oh, I've been so sorry in the past

from all your successes that I missed out on.

Alright. Good doing business with you, Big Hawk. Thanks, man.

I appreciate this opportunity.

I may have another one of these coming up in a few weeks.

Interested?

Fuck yeah. You're the man, Hawk.

Big Hawk out.

A few times a year, this trucking company that delivers booze and beer

to liquor stores has an "accident" that never really happens.

Big Hawk then pays the trucking company 50 grand for 150 grand worth of booze.

Then they sell it for 100, doubling their money.

I pawned my Monte Carlo for ten grand, so, soon, I'm gonna have enough money

to buy fucking 3 of them if I wanted to.

That's perfect

Thanks, Julian. I appreciate it.

I mean, that titanium upper body of yours sure cut the time in half.

Yeah, real funny, Bubs.

I'm just teasing you.

Holy fuck, my cats are gonna love this new kitty spa.

I didn't think cats could swim, man.

Cats can swim better than fucking dogs, I'll have you know.

Oh, baby. Now they're gonna be able to cool off during this heat wave.

Fucking global warming can take a big lick on my taint.

Alright, Paul McCatney, when you're finished cooling off,

I'm gonna give you a nice blast with the dryer.

Then I'm gonna do a full round of belly work on you.

Full cat spa treatment for you, little buddy.

Oh, fuck, Ricky. What happened to your face?

You look like you were French-kissing an escalator.

Had a little incident at the fucking gas station in Spryfield.

What kind of an incident?

Nobody fuckin' move! Give me all your money and your cigarettes!

Fuck off. You won't shoot me.

Listen, weird hair, I don't have time for fucking games.

Fuck, myfucking hand! Jesus!

Just fuck out of here, loser!

Fuck off with the fucking fire extinguisher!

You fucking green-haired bastard bitch!

- Go! Get the fuck out! - God damn it!

You got the shit beat outta you with a fire extinguisher.

That's great, Ricky. You should check your brain.

Yeah, and I had to leave my gun there, for fuck's sake.

My favorite gun the old man gave me. Now it's gone forever.

Jesus Christ. Why the fuck would you rob a gas station anyway? That's greasy.

Because I owe the cock-vacuuming CRA 28 grand in taxes.

If I don't pay it in three days, I go to jail for a long time.

It's a fuckin' felony offense.

Wait, what do you mean? They said "felony offense"?

- Yeah. - Well, that doesn't make sense.

There's no such thing as a felony in Canada.

- They were fucking scamming you, idiot. - No, they weren't.

- They were. - You should've heard the big words

they were using: "grand jury," "subpoe-ni-a," "incarcerating."

It's fucked.

You've never worked a fucking day in your life.

How are they charging you for back income taxes?

Better not be a fucking scam.

That green-haired ninja witch beat the shit out of me.

Let me see your phone. I'm gonna call them. This is bullshit.

Investigation Division, Canada Revenue Agency.

How may I help you, sir?

Yes, hi there.

Uh, I'm an old man, and I'm hoping that you can tell me

why I owe you cocksuckers all this tax money.

One moment, sir. Let me look up your file using your phone number.

Yes. Yes, here it is, sir. We did an audit for the last several years

and found errors with your income tax.

Oh, yeah, okay. Well, I might have to call bull fuckingshit on that,

because I don't pay taxes.

Sir, you need to watch your language. I'm a CRA officer.

I can have you arrested. Now, how would you like to pay?

Credit card or transfer the money to our account?

- Actually, I'd like to pay... - Jesus.

…using my erect cock. Will that work?

Excuse me? How about I issue you an affidavit for your arrest?

You'll have to appear before a grand jury. How would you like that, sir?

Jesus.

Check your fucking holefor a dead rat.

Yeah, listen, bud. I have an idea. Why don't all you scamming assholes

stop tricking people out of their goddamn hard-earned money?

And when you're done doing that, go fuck yourselves!

Now you've done it, sir. The police are coming to your house,

and they're coming right now. I hope you're happy with yourself. Goodbye.

That smells like a pile of shit ate a whole bunch of shit

and then shit it out. Oh, I can taste it.

Jesus Christ, Ricky. What the fuck is up with your ass, man?

It's my new diet. It's fucking up my "testine."

Oh, God.

Oh, dear. Oh my God.

Are you okay, Marguerite? What's going on?

Fucking heartless cocksuckers.

I had to give the CRA nine fucking grand.

How in the fuck am I going to pay my lot fees now?

Start hanging out at the dock giving handies to sailors again?

Marguerite, it was a scam.

- A scam? - You asshole! I just need time!

It's not my fault the government raped my shit pipe!

Donny, what the fuck is going on?

I'll tell you what's going on, you muscular cocksucker!

The CRA rammed their 17-foot, slithering, oiled-up cock

right down my gravellyfucking throat!

Alright, thanks a lot for coming. I just brought you guys here today

to warn you about a phone scam that's going on.

Some residents have been conned out of money.

There's these fucking people posing as government dicks from the CRA.

You fucking shitting me, man?

They called me, too. That was a scam?

Oh, my God. Julian, they called me!

They said that I owe them four grand.

They called me too, Julian. What the frig?

Oh, for fuck's sakes. Are you kidding me?

How many of you have been contacted by these people?

Holy shit. And how many of you guys paid them?

This is fucking bullshit!

Fuck me. They must have targeted our fucking trailer park.

Julian, we have to call the police.

No police. We get the police involved, our money's gonna be tied up for months.

Don't worry about a thing. I'm gonna get your money back, okay?

- For a small fee. - Nobody fucks with Sunnyvale!

The hardest part is gonna be trying to find these fuckers,

but I've got Bubs over there on the computer.

I've got full confidence he can search something up...

Just did a reverse lookup on the number, Julian. Nothing.

These guys are fucking good. I'm telling you.

Oh, for fuck's sakes.

I also sent Randy to the police station

to try to suck some information out of Ted,

but he came up with nothing.

I'm not sure where the fuck to go from here.

Ricky says he's got it all figured out, which basically means we're fucked.

Why does my brain have to be such an asshole?

It knows how to figure this shit out, and it won't tell me.

What does that even mean, Dad?

I had the answer on how to get these tax fuckers,

and then it got gone.

Maybe I need to get more high. Maybe that'll make it come back.

Okay. I guess anything's worth a try. Listen, I'm really proud of you.

Ugh, I'm not sure how you eat this stuff, though.

It's actually not that bad. Is there any marshmallow-y stuff here

or Cheez Whiz?

I just wish the fucking cocksucking CRA was a mouse,

'cause I could set a trap. Put a piece of cheese and snap,

I got the little fuckers. But no, they're not a mouse.

Well, just wait, Dad. I think you just figured it out.

- What do you mean? - That's it, a trap.

But I'd never find a trap that big. And I don't wanna kill them.

- I wanna catch the fuckers. - No, I don't mean catch them

in a real trap. You don't wanna kill them. I just mean set a trap, lure them in,

- and then you'll know who they are. - A trap. Holy fuck!

That's it, Trin. Holy fuck, you're smart.

I just need to set a fucking trap. Fuck you, brain. I win again.

I figured it out. Just needed to be the right level of high.

- Oh, yeah. This should be good. - It is good. Mousetrap.

Just treat them like a mouse.

Fucking mouse like cheese, so instead, this time,

the cheese'll be like a cash, and the mouse's gonna be,

well, it'd be a car, but someone gets in the car,

and then they'd come to try to drive to get the cheese...

- Ricky! - And the cheese would...

Deep breath. What're you talking about?

Fuck! Just tell the lowlife fucks that I have the money, in cash,

and they need to pick it up, 'cause I'm not taking that cash in public.

- Oh, come on, man. - These people aren't idiots.

You're not gonna just fucking have them stroll up to your trailer.

I know. They said they couldn't do that.

What? You called them back?

Yeah, the trap is set.

We're meeting near the old bridge in four hours.

Wicked, me and Jacob are in 100 percent.

Yeah, we got your backs.

Not happening. We've got one shot here. We can't risk you two fucking it up.

Yup.

Oh, boys.

They're 15 minutes late here. I'm telling you, boys,

these people are not dummies. They're running a sophisticated operation.

They're not just gonna stroll down here under the dirty, old, goddamn bridge.

Bubs, they're greasy. They're gonna want the cash.

They're gonna show up. Don't worry about it.

I am worried about it.

Yo, Big Hawk, what's up, man?

What? What the fuck are you talking about? What about my money?

Oh, you gotta be kidding me, man. Fuck!

All right. Thanks for the heads up, I guess.

For fuck's sakes!

The deal got fucked over. Big Hawk got in a real accident

- with the booze truck. - What's that mean?

It means that my ten grand's gone. That's what it fucking means.

Julian, I'm not one to slap a fellow with a cock when he's down,

but I'm telling you, I believe I told you that it was too good to be true.

Bubs, not now.

- Thank God I didn't go in on it. - That's enough.

Fuck. Sorry, boys. Here it comes.

Wait, what? Sorry for what?

- Oh, my fuck, Ricky! - Ricky!

Are you trying to kill us with your ass vapor?

There's an actual haze coming out of you.

Fuck, I can't breathe. Fuck, I can taste it.

It's like a hot rag of stink!

It's not my fault. I can't hold them in. It'll fuck up my blood pressures.

At least get out of the fucking car next time.

Show some goddamn mercy to our lungs.

Boys, look. I knew it. I told you guys.

Never underestimate the power of money.

We need to play this smart. Flank the car. Guy on each side,

one of us comes up from behind.

What about a distraction? Maybe throw a rock and hit the roof?

Yeah, I like that. Ricky, I'll signal you whe...

Okay, tit meat, out of the car.

Ricky! Fuck's sakes!

That's an assault on a CRA investigator!

The wig is up, you bottom-feeding bitch. You're coming with us.

We can do this the easy way or the hard way.

I like option B,

the hard way.

He just fucked my ass with his foot!

Oh, my God. That was Bruce Lee-type shit.

I'm gonna knock you out, bigger boy,

and then I'm going to fuck those big, meaty tits of yours!

We need to get the fuck out of here. Somebody grab his legs.

Ugh, God, I think the tube part of my ass is bleeding.

Fuck, it hurts.

Fuck, these kale chips are spicy as a Spanish-anese hooker.

You wipe that smug look off your fucking face!

Where's the call center?

Know what? You can fuck yourself.

Oh, is that right?

When I get free, I'm going to break 618 bones in this room.

Um, boys, just so you're aware, that's precisely the number

of all the bones in all of our bodies combined.

God damn it. Here we go again. I can't hold it in.

- Hold it in. - No!

Hold that fucking thing in.

- Too late. - Oh, my fuck!

- What the fuck is wrong with you? - Holy mother of God. I can't breathe.

- Fuck, I feel another one coming on. - Oh, no, Ricky, please!

Go outside! Ricky! Holy fuck. Everybody down! Stink rises!

Oh, shit. Another one's comin'...

- Go the fuck outside! - Please don't drop another one.

Ricky, actually pinch it off! Hold it in!

- I can't hold it in! - Ricky, hold it in!

- Fuck! - I have an idea.

Okay, bud, where are you running your operation out of?

Fuck you, old-lady eyes.

Oh, fuck me, eh? Okay, bud. Ricky, set your ass to stun.

Gladly.

You like that? You want another one?

What about the Geneva Convention? There's rules now.

Okay!

Ready to talk, or you want another puff of choke juice?

For the love of Shiva, take this fucking bag off before I die.

It's in Moncton.

I take you there.

Fucking right you will. Right the fuck now. Let's go, boys.

We don't know who we're dealing with here.

You know, could be the Mafia, could be bikers.

It could be the Pakistani equivalent of the Yakuza.

We can't just go there, just the three of us, with one gun.

Fuck's sakes.

Yo T, I need your help to take down the scammers

- and get everybody's money back. - Fuck, man. You mean, like, right now?

Man, I don't think we can do it, dawg. Pretty fucked up right now.

We need some choppers, too.

- Some choppers? - Yeah, some choppers.

Not sure if we can go anywhere, man. We can't move.

What do you mean?

Edibles, man. We high as a motherfucker.

Oh, great.

Green's dumb ass thought they was 50 mg. Turns out they was 500.

- These are fucking 500? - Shit's crazy, man.

Yo, Green, grab these ma'fuckers some of the heavy artillery.

The big guns. Get the big ones.

What the fuck?

- Whoa, fuck. - Sorry, man. Fuckin' lit.

Green, what the fuck? You always fucking up, man.

- He's always fucking up. - Nice going.

You guys are gonna be fucked for, like, 12 hours. I'm jealous.

Pull back on it, Cory!

Jesus fucking Christ!

Who in the fuck just flew a goddamncocksucking kite

into my living room?

Cunt!

Can't believe I'm thinking this.

Julian, don't you dare.

We have no choice, man.

- Julian! - Bubs!

Shut the fuck up.

- Why can't we have machine guns? - Not a fucking chance.

Boys, what's the plan here?

I'm sure they have security and guns

and fuck knows what other Jackie Chantypes

are lurking around in there.

We gotta surprise them.

Nice going, fucking idiot.

Shit, dude. I'm sorry.

So much for surprise there, fucking jerk-in-the-box.

Fucking idiots. Oh, well, fuck it. No choice now.

Cory, Jacob, you guys wait here. Do you know what that fucking means?

Got it, Julian.

All right, cover us. Okay, boys. Let's do this.

Everybody on the fucking ground!

Do it, get down! Now!

Give us the fucking money! Now!

Where's your fucking safe?

There's no safe. The money's in offshore bank accounts.

You fucking pieces of shit. We should shoot every one of you.

Not our fault. They're forcing us. We're illegals.

They threaten to call immigration on us.

Oh, my God. That's fucking horrible.

Boys, put the guns down. Put them down.

They pay us 50 dollars a week,

and then they only feed us if we make them money.

And it's just bread and chicken gravy.

Is it real chicken gravy or that shit from a can?

Ricky, I don't think where the gravy comes from is the issue.

They're being treated like slaves in here!

Well, we're fucked then. I don't know shit-all about offshore bank accounts,

for fuck's sakes.

God damn it. Well, if we're not getting the money,

we're at least making sure nobody else gets scammed.

Fuck you!

Ricky, calm down. Your blood pressure. And you could fart!

Surprise, you fruity, fairy fucks. Break one more thing,

and you're fucking dead. Put down your fucking guns,

or we shoot Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Fucked-in-the-Head!

I don't fucking think so, dickhead. You guys put down your fucking guns!

Fuck you!

You stole from Sunnyvale, and we want our money back, Cyrus.

You guys stole my beautiful, perfect balls. Remember?

- You think I'd just let that go? - How are your clacker balls, Fonzie?

Shut up. My brand-new synthetic nuts are bigger and better than ever.

Holy fuck.

They look like two giant, polished pearls, covered with perfectly-groomed hair.

No, man, they look more like two fucking cabbages

that've been in the sun, and a bird shit on 'em.

Is there any particular reason why you two are analyzing his balls with such detail?

These new balls added over two feet to my spray,

and Sunnyvale paid for them.

Oh, yeah!

Hey, what the fuck did I say?

Fucking shot!

Give us the money, and we'll leave. There's no way out of this, Cyrus.

We'll shoot our way out of here if we have to.

You're not fucking over my million-dollar business!

Wait, did you say a million?

You made a million fucking dollars from this, scamming people?

That's right. The C-man is a fucking millionaire.

I'm driving a fucking Ferrari. Boom!

Right over there in the corner. Check it out.

A year newer than Magnum P.I.'s!

Holy fuck, boys. Look at that thing.

- He made a million fucking dollars. - Who cares?

New plan, Cyrus.

Let's stop fucking shooting before someone gets hurt.

I'm all ears, you big fucking Adonis wannabe.

How about I don't call the cops,

- and you cut me in? - Fuck that.

I'm serious. I could double your profits, man, easily.

Help you expand in other markets, like the US for instance.

That's where the real money is, man.

Julian, what the fuck are you doing?

Yeah, are you fucking losing it?

Boys, this is a shit-ton of money. That's what the fuck I'm doing.

Julian, don't you dare cross over to the dark side because of money.

Fifteen points, or we start shooting again.

Twenty, and you got a deal.

Fuck's sakes.

Okay, deal.

Okay, just a sec. I want ten grand up-front,

and I want the keys to your car for a week.

Not a fucking chance.

Guess I'm calling the cops, then. You wanna act all tough, Cyrus?

You show me how big those new balls really are then.

You've got five fucking seconds!

Julian, one last time.

What the flying fuck are you doing right now?

This ten grand makes up for the money I lost with Big Hawk,

and I'll be able to get the fucking Carlo out of pawn.

But you and Cyrus will be partners.

You do get that, right? Without us.

Fuck off.

You heard him. He knows what he's doing.

He wants real business partners, not gay dummies.

- Julian! - I'm sorry, but I've never had

an opportunity like this before in my life.

Are you the real Julian,

or are you some other Julian that warped in, took the old Julian out,

and now he's here talking like a different Julian?

Shut the fuck up, Cory.

I can't believe it took this long for your true colors to shine through.

Through that big, muscly exterior.

Get me the fuck out of here, Ricky, right now.I am disgusted!

I like money too, man, but this is fucked. You are fucked.

Well, have fun tonguing Cyrus's new balls

in your yellow Gay-rari. Dick.

Finally, our two great minds team up together.

Those guys always held you back, in my opinion.

Really appreciate this opportunity, brother.

Man, I can't fucking wait to take that fucking Ferrari for a rip, man.

Fucking insane. You're gonna fucking love it.

Oh, nice dick mobile!

That fucking asshole! I can't fucking believe he did this to us.

Good morning, everyone.

I had Randy get everyone together because I have some good news.

I promised to get your money back, and I did.

And all the people that were running the call center are now in jail.

Huh? How?

Julian, what in the fuck happened?

Well, I was talking business with Cyrus, trying to prove I was on his side,

which was easy because he's stupid. That's when it all went sideways for him.

Man, the Canadian dollar's worth shit right now.

We hit the US and England, we're gonna make way more money.

I don't know.

I think we're doing fine right here locally.

Yeah, but I feel kinda bad ripping off Canadians, you know?

Hey, don't you go start growing a fucking heart here, muscles.

You'll never go anywhere if you start giving a fuck about people.

Yeah, you're right. See, what the fuck am I thinking?

I'm gonna be back in a sec. I gotta rock a piss.

Police!

Dennis, are you fucking nuts?

Fucking hate the fucking cops, man!

Fuck the cops! I can't go back to jail!

Boys, these are fucking cops! Fuck off! You're going to get us...

Fuck me! They fucked me.

They fucked me hard, man. Fucking hurts!

Dennis, I'm fucking hit! Fuck!

My brand-new seven-thousand-dollar balls!

- We good? - Yeah. You should probably

- get the hell out of here. - Oh, you! Motherfucker!

Not only did I get your money back, but Cyrus got his new balls shot up.

I can't believe he paid seven grand for those fucking things.

What a dick.

I always believed in you, Julian.

Shut the fuck up, Randy.

I have ten thousand in cash up-front, and for the rest of the money,

we're just gonna sell this car. It's worth close to 100 grand,

more than enough to cover what everybody lost, okay?

Plus, you know, I'm gonna take a small commission.

That's fair 'cause I'm selling the fucking thing.

What in the flying ass cocks is going on right now?

I'll tell you what's going on, Ricky. The scamm-ee became the scammer.

Julian set Cyrus up. He fucking fooled all of us.

Way to go, Julian.

Yeah, way to go, Julian.

It's like you gathered up everyone's cock in Sunnyvale, then you bundled them,

then you shoved that one big super cock right through Cyrus's nut sack.

- Ricky… - What?

Don't make analogies anymore.

I'm officially declaring today Sunnyvale Day! People tried

to fuck with our park, and we won!

I can't believe you guys actually thought that I might partner up with Cyrus.

You're, like, a really good actor, Julian.

Yeah, maybe all those years of jacking it to Stallone, and Arnie, and the Swayz,

maybe have paid off.

Yeah, real funny, Bubs.

You better not ever put me through that again, Julian.

Sorry, boys.

When I found out we were fucked, I knew it was our only fucking play.

Jesus, I thought you guys were gonna pick up on it.

No, we didn't have a fucking clue. It's like you're fucking Robert De Miro.

The important thing is, it all worked out, we won, and we all kinda did it together.

No, I'm... I'm giving you this one, Julian. This was all you.

I can't believe I doubted you, actually. Get over here, you big, muscly bastard.

You too, Ricky.

Oh, fuck. You just jarred something loose.

No, Ricky.

Burnt us, Ricky.

Okay, Ricky. This diet of yours, it's fucking over!

For fuck'ssakes.

I think the cork finally popped.

Okay, so just so we're clear, you mean you just shit yourself, correct?

Big time. Mix me up another drink.

Have to get cleaned up. Bubs, gotta use your hose, man.

No, problem, Ricky. Turn the nozzle to "jet," and you should be good.

Love you, bud.

Oh, that feels good. Love you too, buddy!

Oh fuck!

Jesus Christ!

Fuck off.