All language subtitles for kid-cannabis-yify-english

Beautiful. Isn't it?

But listen. You hear it?

I hear it in my nightmares.

That's the sound of the feds,

working their unmanned drones, spending
more money trying to shut us down

than they did searching
for Osama Bin Laden.

42 billion spent in the war on pot.

140 bucks from every one of you

to fight a little green herb made
by God that grows in the sun.

And God doesn't make mistakes.

Go! Go go go!

I would have personally
paid 18 million in taxes

on the almost 60 million I
made from the medicine I sold.

But they never asked,
so I never offered.

I never got the bill,
so I didn't pay.

Here's the skinny.

I was a spongy kid from the
wrong side of the lake.

A high school dropout.
The lost cause.

The invisible kid whose name you
forget before I even finish saying it.

But I ran a disciplined,
$68 million a year business

and employed hundreds of Wal-Mart-
shopping, exxon-buying Americans.

And we'd still be up and running,

trying to cope with the
demand, if murder and mayhem

hadn't entered the picture.
But hey,

you can't put the toothpaste
back in the tube, can you?

Topher moved to Idaho from
Boston when he was 15.

He took a lot of shit for his Boston
accent and for being full of shit.

But he's had my back ever since
he beat down Billy "the bull" Turrow,

who used to give me a daily thumping
for as long as I can remember.

We had one big thing in common.
Pot.

Talking about it, smoking it,
looking for more, better, cheaper.

You know the deal.

He liked getting high
almost as much as I did,

and that is saying a lot.

You can't believe half the shit
that comes out of his mouth,

but Topher had game. He'd get me to do
things I would have never done on my own.

He was my best fro.

What's up, motherfuckers?

Is this a party?

If I could erase one guy from this
story, it would be Brendan Butler.

He lost the plot years ago. Went to sleep
on the dirt floor of a Korean orphanage,

woke up in a mansion
in Coeur D'alene lake

with a silver spoon up his ass.

But no good deed goes unpunished.

He paid his adopted
daddy Warbucks back

by becoming the biggest, baddest,
loudest drug dealer in town.

Dealt his overpriced weed to
the frat pack at Gonzaga prep.

Us public school kids got
the sticks and seeds.

People talk about him being
an honors student, perfect S.A.T. Scores.

But he did some of
the stupidest shit I'd ever seen.

He was always talking
when he should have been listening.

Do you think people
will know what I am?

Who cares? The chicks
will have to ask, right?

Foot in the door,
dick in the whore.

Just let me do the talking.
I'll get us in.

- All right.
- Nate? Is that you?

- Hey, Ashli with an "I."
- It's me. How are you?

I'm great. What are you?

I'm... he's the floor
of a movie theater.

- Yeah. Yeah.
- Funny.

Cute. What are you?

I'm a leaf blower. Get it?

Creative. Original.

- What are you?
- French maid.

Yeah, never seen that before.
What are you supposed to be?

A cat.

- Girl scout.
- Do you have any cookies?

- Not for you.
- Okay, cool.

Fuck off. Let's go.
Sweet push-up bra.

I hate those bitches.
Fucking skanks.

Go ahead, compliments
of Brendan Butler.

Here you go.

No. Hold on. Hold up.

- I'm cool with Wang.
- Uh, Brendan Butler, sir.

- Yeah, Brendan.
- Hold up.

Really?

What?

Wang?

Who the fuck thinks
they can call me Wang?

Huh? Who the fuck thinks
they can call me Wang?

These two fucking clowns.

I'm a friend of, uh, Daniel Cox.

This isn't Daniel
Cox's fucking party.

- Yeah. He told us about it.
- It's all good, right? Just...

- Told you about it?
- Got some bud.

Oh, you got some bud? I got these.

Get the fuck out of here before
I ventilate you in your...

Fucking pussy bitch. Pussy?

Who's a pussy bitch?

You're a fucking pussy bitch.

I don't know if freako Bandito
was really shooting at us,

but I wasn't looking
back to find out.

- Don't fuck with me.
- You fucking prick.

Nice fucking costume. Fuck you.

Hey.

Can we make this a four-way?

But the truth was,
we were both losers by legacy.

I went to bed sick and tired
of being sick and tired.

Tired of my mom
working shitty jobs,

driving a shitty car,
living in a shitty house,

just to provide three hots and a
cot for me and my little bro.

But every chunk of coal wants
to be a diamond, right?

You want to know what I think
is wrong with pot? Nothing.

Would you rather be in a room
full of drunks or pot smokers?

Give me the pot smokers every time.

Laid back and friendly.

When was the last time a bar fight
broke out between potheads?

Drive drunk, you think you're doing
30 and you're really doing 90.

Drive high, you think you're doing 90
and you're really doing 30.

You stop at red lights twice.

Mother nature produces pot.
Man makes liquor.

Who do you trust? Seriously, the pizza
I used to deliver's killed more people

than all the weed ever
smoked in the state of Idaho.

- Mom awake?
- I don't know.

- You do your homework?
- Yeah.

- You really do your homework?
- Yeah.

All right. Here you go, buddy.

Mom?

Ma, it's time to get up.

Time to get up. Come on.

- What time is it?
- 7:45. You gotta go to work.

I'd been working minimum wage
since I was a stem cell,

and it sucks in every
way and always will.

Delivering pizzas, shoveling
snow, bagging groceries,

trimming trees, whatever
I could hustle.

In Coeur D'alene, there was money
all around, but just out of reach.

Teasing, taunting, just
laughing at you for thinking

you were gonna get your
hands on any of it.

Pizza.

Come in!

Down the hall.

Uh, hi.

Thought they were sending
the redhead, uh...

- Jennifer.
- Yeah, Jennifer, that's her.

- The redhead, big tits.
- Yeah. I...

I mean, she-she's off. I'm Nate.

Hello, Nate.

It's 22.30.

Got change for a hun?

Uh, no, I can't. Sorry.

Okay, hold your horses.

Hey! Any of you
butt-heads got twenties?

Okay, excellent, thanks for your help.
I really appreciate that.

Get your hand off your nut sac.

- Do you believe these guys, huh?
- Yeah.

- You, uh, want a hit?
- Oh, no, I can't.

I gotta get back to work.

Like you'd hate to lose
this dream job, huh?

'Cause passing that pizza jockey
bar exam's a real bitch, huh?

Okay, excuse me.

All right. Turn your
head, little man.

You're about to see
what makes most women

fear the cock. Okay.

Get in there.

Haha. Oh, easy, speed racer.
That there's the B.C. Bud.

That's 600 a half
if you can find it.

Six hundred a half?

Holy shit. Sorry.

Yes, it is.

You see the ground squirrel
on the bed there?

She bought herself a divorce,
a new set of tits,

and put her kid through
private school,

all by bringing down a
few pounds every month.

Down from where?

- From Canada, bro.
- How?

Don't get me wrong, tight
pussy is very, very nice,

but it's a little overrated.

That chick's kid's head?
The size of fucking Charlie brown.

In her box?

Really?

- All right, give me a second.
- All right.

I-I-I... here we go.
Um, all I have is a 20.

It's 22.30.

Can you break a Benjamin?

Then all I have is a 20.

Huh? We got a deal, Nate?

Thank you. There you go, sir.

Let me grab that. It's a write-off.

Now, shouldn't you be toodling
off back to pizza base camp?

Hmm?

Good to meet you, Nate.

Say hi to the big-titted
redhead for me.

Girls!

We got pie. Woo!

It was like I'd been living
my entire life in a fog,

and that night it finally lifted.

Like Donald trump says,

"if you want to make money,
stick with what you love and know."

- Hey.
- Oh, hey, ma. You're late.

Yeah. Some yuppies ran
out on their bill,

and Randy made me wash
dishes to cover their check.

Sucks.

Hey. You need to get some sleep.

- Good night, mom.
- Good night, baby.

Yes? Okay.

Tom? Tom.

Mr. Loya can see you now.

- First office to your right.
- Thank you.

Come in.

Come in.

Close the door there, yeah.

- I'm Joe Loya.
- Hi. Tom Clark. Pleasure.

Take it off.

- Take what off?
- The mask.

Okay.

I'm... I'm sorry.

I didn't want to be seen.
I'm a little nervous.

Sorry. Didn't mean
to weird you out.

So?

So. What can I do for you today?

Uh, marijuana.

I have a friend who...
kind of a friend,

that he or she

may-may-may be interested

in, uh, in the business.

So, you want to know how much time you
would do if you get popped dealing weed.

Um, not-not dealing. Transporting.

- Not-not me, though.
- Trafficking?

Yeah, but once again,
not me, my friend.

Uh, might be doing it.

- Maybe.
- Well, there are a lot of variables.

How much weight?
Are you crossing state lines?

Are you carrying a firearm?
Is this a federal case or a state case?

If it's a state case,
which state and who's the judge?

Do you have any priors?

The critical element in
whether you walk away

or you're there to stay
is have you stashed enough money

to pay my fee?

Oh. Okay.

Okay.

How much weed do you think
was sold in America last year?

I don't know. Not enough.

Come on, man. How much?

- Two million pounds.
- No.

- Fifty million pounds?
- No. No.

- I don't know. How much?
- All of it.

I mean, the market is huge.
It's infinite.

And you know who sells the sweetest,
dankest purple-hair buds

in the whole Western world? What's
with the 20 freaking questions?

Dude, man, Canada. Every ma and
pa kettle in Canada's a grower.

- You want to know why?
- No, Nate. Enlighten me.

If you get caught growing, slap on
the wrist. Nobody gives a shit.

It's like a speeding ticket
or an overdue library book.

- We don't live in Canada.
- It's a hundred miles away, dude.

- The border's wide open.
- The border's n...

If the border's wide open, why
did Ronnie price get popped

with a half a pound coming home from
a hockey tournament in Vancouver?

Dumbass, I'm not talking about
driving it across the border.

What are you talking about?

I'm talking about walking across the
5,000 miles they're not watching.

- You think that they're not watching.
- I know they're not watching.

Okay. My dad says if
anyone deals with drugs,

you better get rich quick, because
you're gonna get caught in the end.

Oh, yeah? You know
what my dad says?

Nothing, 'cause I don't have one,
so I gotta make it on my own.

I'm talking about pot here.

Thomas Jefferson and
George Washington grew it.

Columbus's sails were made out of it.
I mean, even the first pair of Levis

- were made out of it, man.
- You talk so much shit for a kid

who didn't graduate high school.

I'm saying we could
bring in a few pounds,

offload it in, what,
five and a half seconds?

Get the 50 large we need to
open that custom bike shop

we've always been talking about.

Keep it small, just between us.

In and out, short and
sweet, we eat and treat.

Yeah, but you know how much time
we would do if we got caught?

I know exactly how much time.

Keep it under five pounds,
no weapons, no priors?

We'd do a year.
Be out in four months.

Wow. You've been chewing
on this for a while, huh?

Yeah, a while.

Pop that pussy

full of poppy

lunch at Nobu bring hot sake

go with me on Kawasakis

do you even know where we're going?

North. This way.

Come on.

So that's it, huh?
That's the border?

There's got to be a camera or some
motion detectors or some shit.

Let's find out. On my three.

One, two, three, go.

- What the hell?
- Sorry, sorry, my foot got stuck.

Yeah, let's go again. Ready?
One, two, three, go.

I'd never ran as fast
as I did that day.

We ran like Kenyan
track stars on meth.

Like we were being chased by H.I.V-positive,
flesh-eating zombies on motocross bikes.

We were just waiting for
the sirens to go off,

the helicopters to come
swooping out of the sky,

for the lasers and ninjas
with searchlights.

Waiting for all the shit to fly out
of the sky, but surprise, surprise,

it never did.

- What do you think?
- I have no idea, man.

- Is it Canada?
- Could be.

Can't see any fucking cars.

Fuck it. Let's go. Come on.

Where the fuck are we?

- Dude.
- What?

It's in kilometers.

- So?
- We're in Canada, man!

- Really?
- Yes!

Wait. Go.

We needed startup capital,

so we went back to the lake
and found a sunken jet boat

in, like, ten seconds.

The magic boat that
no one thought really existed.

Some sucker peeled off
the 1800 we were asking,

and boom, boom, boom,
we were knocking at the door

of the "A" room.
Financing in place,

route laid out.

Now, to get higher,
all we needed was a supplier.

Just be cool. Just
keep it cool, buddy.

- You all right?
- Yeah, yeah, I'm good. I got this.

Besides, we don't have
anything on us, so we're fine.

Relax. I've got it under control.

- Hello.
- See some I.D.

Sure. Not-not a very
good looking picture.

Dude, shut up. You as well.

Here you go.

Did you check the n.C.I.C.?

Where you boys headed?

Canada.

What part of Canada?

The inside part. Creston.

Yeah. We're just going to
visit some friends.

Any drugs or alcohol
in the vehicle?

Oh, no. I mean, we sold them
all to get this sweet ride.

Zero to sixty in three days.
You feel?

Dude.

Take the left on your way out. Pull over
into the secondary inspection area.

- Really?
- Do I look like I'm joking?

- Shut up.
- All right.

- I'm sorry.
- The fuck is wrong with you,
trying to be funny?

It was a dumb joke. Trying to
be a fucking comedian.

You're not funny.
It's pathetic. I'm sorry.

Get your sweaty shit together, man.
I'm not doing this with you

- if you're gonna be a fucking idiot.
- I'm nervous, okay?

Well, just shut up,
don't say anything.

Step out of the car, please.

- Everything okay?
- Yep, just head to the front
of the vehicle, please.

All right.

There's nothing in the
fucking car, right?

- Nothing.
- You sure?

- I'm positive.
- All right.

What's this, guys?

Uh, that's a paintball gun, sir.

Why just one?

I don't-I don't play
paintball, sir.

All right, guys. Empty your pockets

for me, please, on the table.

I need you to take your socks
and shoes off, please.

Probably smell bad, but...

Shirts and shorts for me, please.

Ahh.

This is the fun part.

Which way?

Let me see. We go...
it says 3.7 miles

- to the main road.
- Miles or kilometers?

Oh, k... I don't know.
It doesn't say.

Well, that's kind of
a big difference.

- Kilometers or miles?
- All right, we'll figure it out.

- Where is it?
- Right up ahead.

This corner? Oh, right here.

Hey.

Morning.

There's no fucking way.

All righty, there you go, man.
Have a great day.

- What's up, dude?
- Hey, man.

- My name's Ted.
- Hey, Ted.

- Ted.
- Topher.

Topher? Nate Norman.

Nate. Pleasure.

Pleased to meet you guys.
Well, how can I help you?

Well, um, looking to get some bud.

No doubt. Okay, we've got
the sativas over here at this end,

and they're a really good head stone,
really uplifting kind of high,

make you want to go to the park and
run through and look at the flowers.

- We like getting high.
- And then, uh,

over here it's the indicas, which
are kind of like the body stones,

which, kind of like
wheelchair weed.

What's your favorite strain, Ted?

I love the king Kong, man.
Got a really nice burn to it.

You know, a lot of growers don't flush out the
fertilizer enough, and it makes you cough.

It's kind of harsh. The king Kong
it's got this beautiful burn.

- Really nice and potent, just...
- Can we smell the king Kong?

- Yeah.
- Yeah, for sure.

- And the...
- Oh, my God.

Some of the finest
herb in B.C. Here.

- Wow.
- Yep, that'll get you high just smelling it.

- Smells like tinkerbell's wings.
- Haha.

- How much...
- Yeah, how much does it cost?

We have 1800 bucks.

No, man, we don't
sell quantity here.

We're retail, not wholesale.

I think we should still...
Probably get some, yeah.

Well, check it out. Holy cow.

- Just walk away.
- Pardon?

Bail. Bail.

Look around. This place
is crawling with d.E.A.

They got the whole place
under surveillance.

You buy here, try and
get it back into the U.S. of a.,

you're facing federal
smuggling charges.

No parole in federal prison.

Walky walky.

Come on.

Take a right. Right right right.

How far away are we
from this place?

- About five, ten blocks.
- Oh, great.

So, do you grow your
own shit, or...

Uh, it's a plant. It grows itself.

All right, take a right up here.

- All right, man, just park.
- Anywhere. All right.

Come on, come on, come on.

Watch your step.

My lady cut her finger.

Couple times.

All right, 1800 U.S.

Can we smoke a blunt first?

I just saved your ass and
you're trying to test me?

- Give me the money.
- Uh, okay.

You guys gotta go now.
Go! Go now. Go.

Run! Go!

This shit's like Mexican
goat fuckers' weed, man.

It's not worth me carrying it
across the border.

Yeah, well, did you get
a receipt from that guy?

'Cause maybe we can ask him
for a refund or some shit.

No.

Major Tom to ground
control. Do you copy?

Yes, Mr. Fuckface, I can hear you.

All right. So, I'll pick you up
in three hours.

Meet you at mile 8
on millstone Lane.

Stay in the woods till
I come get you. Got it? All right.

- Wait. Wait wait wait.
- What?

- Why am I carrying it?
- Don't start now.

- I'm just asking.
- You're older than me.

- Exactly.
- You're in better shape.

You can obviously
use the fucking exercise.

- It's my car.
- I can drive.

- You can't drive stick.
- Yes, I can.

No, you can't. It's not
fucking stick, Nate.

- I'm afraid of bears.
- Like I'm fucking not?

It's already decided, man.
You're in the suit and gear.

- All right.
- I'll do it next time, okay?

- Get the fuck out of here.
- Fucking right you will.

Jesus.

Fuck. Where the fuck am I?

While Topher was trying to figure out if
the earth's magnetic poles had shifted,

I was cruising back
to the home country,

already dreaming about
how I was going to spend my money.

- Hello, Nate.
- Hi.

- Where's Christopher?
- Who?

- Christopher Clark.
- Oh, Toph?

He hooked up with one
of Canada's finest.

I'm gonna go home and
sleep at my mom's house.

Way to rub it in.

Could you pull into the secondary
inspection area, please?

Man. Fine.

Jesus.

And there's no drugs in the car?

- Take a look in the car.
- Please. Please do.

As the inbred beagle was hitting
on a moldy corndog in my car,

Topher had gotten
so turned around, he ended up

back on the same road
in Canada he'd started on.

- Fuck.
- Like I said,

he was from Boston.

I guess they don't get out
in the woods much there.

Open your mouth.

I was getting poked and prodded

for the second time that day.

I have to say, the
second cavity search

was a lot less painful.

- Drop your shorts.
- I just wish he had taken

the class ring off first. Yep.

Ground control, major Tom.
Do you read me?

Ground control, major Tom.
Do you...

Major Tom, where the fuck are you?

Nate? Nate?

Who are you calling?

Who the fuck is this?

The fuck's this?

Nate. Nate!

Major Tom, ground control.
Are you in?

Fuck.

Ground control. Where are you?
I'm at mile 8. Where are you?

Topher, I'm at mile 8.
Where are you?

- Ah, fuck.
- Jesus.

Shit. Go, go, go, go, go, go, go.

Holy shit.

- You okay?
- Yeah, man. It was a long run.

Holy shit. We did it!

- We fucking pulled it off.
- I can't believe it.

We sold that first pound in
about five nanoseconds.

Between Topher and me, we knew all
the head cases in Coeur D'alene.

We cleared two large selling
a pound of p.O.W. Dirt weed.

That was an eye-opener.

We knew we had the demand.
Now we had to get the supply.

If we had real weight
in high-grade rock star weed,

the sky was the limit.

So we went back up to Canada,
looking for a good connect.

Don't slow down. Just drive normal.

Why wouldn't I drive normal?
There's a cop.

Who cares? It's a cop.
Who gives a shit?

- He's doing his job.
- Don't drive too fast.

- Don't slow down.
- I'm not slowing down.

Why are they fucking...

Oh, shit.

Might as well
pull over here, where it's safe.

Drive forward more.

No stupid, fucking, juvenile jokes.

License, registration.

Hey. Can't actually find the registration,
I've had this thing so many years.

Were we doing anything
wrong, officer?

You're not wearing your seatbelt.

You fucker.

Sorry about that, officer.

Where you boys headed?

Creston.

Yeah, we're going to
visit a friend in Creston.

Where does your friend live?

Uh, high near the school...
Right near the high school, sir.

By the high school. Yellow house, I
can't remember the name of the street,

but I know how to
get there once I see the school.

There's a steeple
somewhere, I think.

You remember your friend's name?

Y... yep.

- What is it?
- Uh, Michel, but it's a dude.

- Yeah, Mee-Chel.
- Yeah, he's Russian.

French. Uh, both. Both.

Russian. Yes.

If you boys are looking
to score some weed,

you're in the wrong place.

You want to get on 36,
go north to Nelson.

That's where Canada
grows its finest green.

Uh, okay.

You boys have a really good day.

Wear your seatbelts. Thanks a lot.

Did he just tell us...

Go, go. Be cool.
Is he fucking with us?

This is awesome.
Canada's the coolest.

- Yes, $8.
- Go wild. All right.

All right.

Smells good.

Tastes good, too.

You want a bite?

Isn't there some shit about
smoking at a gas station?

My dad owns the gas station.

Huh. So he's

cool with his hottest daughter
just blowing herself up?

Do you want to write
a fucking report?

Do you want a hit?

I don't want to write a report.

I'm Topher.

Nicole.

Nate, come here, sexy.

Oh, this is my buddy, Darren.

What's up, dude? This is my boy Nate.
He's kind of shy around white girls.

Fuck you, I'm shy. Hi.
Nate. Pleasure.

Nicole. Don't be shy
around me, Nate.

I'm an easy girl to get to know.

Holy shit, this is
bomb-ass chronic.

You want to take
some home with you?

Uh... yeah.

Yeah. We, uh, how much?
How much we talking?

How much you looking for?

A lot.

We probably should have
suspected a set-up.

I would have claimed entrapment.

But you don't get
many second chances in life.

Or first chances, for that matter.

When an opportunity
like Nicole comes along,

you better be ready to
jump on and bite down hard.

Come on.

Hey, mom.

This is, uh, Topher and...

Nate. Hi. How are you?

- Good.
- How are you? Pleasure.

- Nate?
- How are you? Not bad.

That's my little sister Ella.

Hi, Ella. Hey there.

How are you?

These boys are looking
for some buds.

Sweet. Okay, hold on.

John! These boys come a-looking.

Around here.

Almost there, fellows. Let's go.

Little corner here.
Watch your heads. Low bridge.

Now we're stepping up.
Let's go. Step up.

Up, up. There you go.

All right, lose the masks.

Come on in.

Ever seen a vegging room before?

- No.
- Well, welcome then.

This is a completely controlled
and sealed environment.

Temperature, co2, humidity.
It's all controlled.

- Get the fuck away from it.
- We use rockwool

and these puffed lava
rocks. There you go.

Plants absolutely love it.

Let me show you the flowering room.

Whatever you do,
don't touch those yellow things.

- Why not?
- Whole place will blow up.

Really?

- No.
- They're fly traps.

I have been selecting
indica mothers

and cross-breeding them with
mostly indica male plants.

And this, oh, this is

my masterpiece.

Took me almost 20 years
to develop this strain.

The homozygous dominant
is what gets the great bud color.

This Durga Mata, she's a hybrid
of two different Shiva strains.

I get one from a U.S.
government laboratory.

Look at that thick stem, will you?

Short inner loaves,
long, pointy fingers.

Strong veins.

Tight, tight bud clusters.

I love the frosty look, don't you?

Fucking love it. Looks amazing.

Go ahead, take a big smell. Yeah?

Yeah.

Enormously high THC.

Very sweet, hashy taste.

And it finishes with
a Christmas cake mix

of tropical, fruity flavors.

Manatushka thunderfuck
and silver kush, see,

can't even carry this
bud's jockstrap.

It's two different universes.

They're not even in the
fucking same reality.

Look at me.

The shit that we grow
here is fucking insane.

This is the healthiest THC
delivery system that you can use.

You understand, it doesn't burn

the leaves, it just
heats them up enough

to release and activate the THC.

So, it feels like you're
inhaling cool air,

with a light kind of
candy corn taste.

Trust me, when you smoke
as much as we do,

it's the only way to go.

Yeah. I mean, your lungs
are the gateway to the bloodstream,

and they have to
last you a lifetime.

John used to be a two
pack a day smoker

- when we met.
- You are a goddess,

and you saved my life.

Of course, baby. You boys
don't smoke cigarettes, do you?

- He does.
- That's a nasty habit.

I mean, those things
are just full of chemicals.

We don't let Nicky
date smokers, do we?

Yeah, I actually just quit.

Hey. Hey, uh,

you mind if I get another slug?

Easy there, killer.

This isn't that Mexi schwag
you're used to smoking.

It will drop you like owl
shit on the forest floor.

- Dad, stop bragging.
- Nicole, baby,

it's not bragging
if it's the truth.

The THC content in here
is, what, 25 percent?

Your head's used to seven.

Coley bear, you want to
swirl down a little magic?

Yes.

Oh, thanks for asking me.

Oh, come on, mama bear,
you know you're always included.

- Your daddy's favorite girl.
- Oh, I better be daddy's only girl.

Someone's gonna get laid tonight.

Who?

This is pretty strange, huh, kid?

We don't deal in small quantity.

Nothing less than a hundred
a run, $1600 a pound.

Trust me, it's in both
of our best interests.

You're gonna want to keep your
risk-reward ratio nice and high.

Can you deal with
that kind of stock?

Remembering that effective
distribution is the key to success

for all of us in this business.

The only sure thing is the demand.

The rest of it is just plain,
old-fashioned hard work.

You're preaching again.

No. But, honey, this is important.
And let me tell them why.

Because when the money comes,

when it really, really
starts to come,

well, sometimes, boys, it is hard
to keep your go kart on the track.

Actually, we were
thinking more like 300 pounds.

Excuse me?

Can you get that many able bodies?

Serious soldiers with
soft, golden hearts?

- It's not a problem.
- People who you would blind trust

- in a forest fire or firefight.
- One hundred percent.

These are guys I grew up with.

They're my brothers but from
different mothers.

Well, let's get down
to brass tacks.

Drug smuggling... yes.
That damn sure is what it ls...

Requires more cool, more integrity

than any other business. So much
is done on a wink and a handshake.

And if you did get busted, it's
usually because somebody was jealous.

They ratted you out.
Someone on the inside.

Someone on your first-string team,
all full of beer

and bullshit, who has no idea
what cool really means.

Clint Eastwood.
Clint Eastwood is cool.

Twelve to twenty words a picture,
no need to brag,

no need to boast.

And if you're not humble,

start flashing your hubris,
with your candy apple red...

Daddy, shut up. You're
way too stoned...

You're right. I fucking well am.

I think that we should
just keep it small at first.

We can handle it.

And I appreciate it.

Better to hear it now than to
have to experience it later.

We don't front product.

We're strictly cash and carry.

It keeps the air between
us clean and pure.

I understand.

Three hundred pounds?

How fucking high are you?

Seriously, what type of Tony Montana,
bipolar shit are you on right now?

Because you almost had
a fucking heart attack

crossing the border carrying
nothing but your own weight.

Now you want to do
300 pounds a run?

Where the fuck are we gonna
get that kind of money?

- I'll get it.
- Oh, you'll get it.

Yeah. You got a fucking
oil well somewhere

in your backyard you
haven't told anybody about?

Look, dude, this is our big chance,
and it may be our only one,

so we have to take it. Okay?

Three hundred pounds
will get you $640,000.

That's 3.8 million in a week, and that's
taking Sunday off for a little prayer, okay?

- Can you believe that shit?
- Fucking ridiculous. No, I don't believe...

Boys, why don't you stay over?

You're in no condition to drive.

Seriously, it's all good. Come on.

All right.

Thank God she came
out with the invite,

because right then, I couldn't have driven
a biscuit into a plate full of gravy.

I'm all for mixing
business with pleasure,

but I knew if this business
got done and done right,

there would be more pleasure than any
of us could handle without a spotter.

Thank God Topher was too dumb

to slop on the one
condom he brought,

because I needed it to get the
sample weed back across the border.

I never really tested
my gag reflex before,

but fuck me if the banana
taste in lubricant

didn't make me want to
puke like a sick puppy.

Fuck.

- Hello, Mr. Norman.
- Hi.

Right over to secondary inspection.

Great.

That was the only time I ever
drove product across the border.

I had an eighth of Durga Mata
in my lower intestine

'cause I knew I'd need it to
rustle up investors.

I just hoped it smelled and smoked
sweet after the journey it was taking,

and that they weren't gonna give me a
laxative and an hour on the shitter.

Drop them.

Hey, Barry. How you doing?
Nate Norman.

I have a business proposal for you.

Hey, Barry. My name is Nate Norman.

I have a business
proposition for you.

Barry Lerner. Not
his real name, FYI.

But someone I heard about through
this guy who used to run for Butler.

Remember when I said Butler should have
done less talking and more listening?

Feds have been trying
to nail Barry for years.

And if I had rolled on him,
I wouldn't be where I am today.

But he kept his word,
and I kept mine.

Can I get you another soda?

- Uh, sure.
- Anything else?

Uh, yeah. Could I have a beer sent
over to Barry Lerner over there?

Uh, what kind of beer?

- What do you got?
- We have a lot of different kinds of beers.

Just get what that guy's having
and send it over to him, please.

- All right, six bucks.
- Okay.

Two, three, six, and as a bonus...

Here's some change. Baller.

Thank you.

Barry was from Israel.

Not the beaches with
the beautiful girls part,

but the Munich revenge part.

He'd been charged with
five counts of murder

and aggravated assault, but never
got close to being convicted.

He brought ecstasy in
from the coast of Portugal,

cocaine from South Peru,
and funneled money

from the streets of
the northwest into his accounts.

But his real love and
passion was weed.

It's from that kid
with the glasses.

Hey. Uh, Barry?

How are you?

- Do I know you?
- Nate Norman.

Do I know you?

I know you do business
with Brendan Butler.

What the fuck is
with Brendan Butler?

It's cool, it's cool.

I'm not a cop or anything.

Know people who know people.

Look, why don't you go back to
your table and leave me alone?

"I am not a cop."

I have a business proposition for you,
if you're willing to hear me out.

I have cell phone stores.

Do you need a new phone?

Unhappy with your plan?

- No.
- Then we have no business to discuss.

Move on.

What do you want?

Where the fuck are you?

- I'm doing business.
- Just gonna leave me in bum-fuck Canada?

Seem like you're having
a good enough time, dude.

What kind of business
are you doing? Nate?

Dealing with a potential financier.
This could be big.

- Okay?
- Nate.

- I'm crystal.
- Hi.

Nate, what the fuck's
going on? Uh, Nate.

I know. I have something for you.
Come with me.

- Nate, who is that?
- I gotta go.

Sit down. Okay.

Barry bought a dance for you.

I knew what Barry was doing.

Do you have anything else?

He was using her to get all my info

and checking to see if
I was wearing a wire.

The guy was thorough, sharp,
and as detailed as a rocket launch.

- And I was glad he was.
- Stand up.

Okay. His ass was my ass
if this all turned to shit,

and let's be honest,
I didn't know what I was doing.

I was damn glad he did.

Taped it on her iPhone

she says she want
to put it on Viddy

but you gotta pay for
that look though really

get on your grind like
a good ho should be

there's enough tricks and
simps in the world today

for you to gather you
some big face fifties

make that pussy work for you

then bust it open for a trill nigga

just like you 'posed to

if you don't comply
shit pussy only pussy

I'ma call me another bitch over

Barry says if you
have anything to say to him,

you can tell me.

Just talk, Mr. big cock.

The clock is running.

Hi, Barry.

Here you are, sir.

This is better than anything
Brendan ever brought me.

I have a much better connect
than Brendan will ever have.

Oh, yeah?

Look, I'm honest and dependable,

and I will never run my mouth off
the way Brendan does.

The only reason I
even know about you

is because he's always full of
beer and bullshit.

Talking about crimping you

and running with your money or whatever
ghetto shit he's talking about.

Hmm.

That is $666,000.

For 300 pounds.

It's 2600 a pound. I'm paying 2200.

Okay.

Can I trust you, Nate?

Yeah.

You understand me?

You understand who I am?

Do you understand
what's going on today?

This goes beyond trust.

This is a second mortgage.

On your life.

If you were to burn me,

it would be a very bad day for you.

And for anyone and
everyone you know.

I know that you would
like your little brother

Phillip to raise his grades
in Mr. Harris's history class.

I know you would like
to see your mother

not have to refill
coffee for a living.

- Yeah.
- Do you understand

how easy it would be

to bury 170 pounds of rotting meat

where no one will ever find it?

I want you to remember
my words here.

I want you to keep it in your mind.

And I want you to let it guide

your actions.

I will.

Poppy.

I'll be right with you, son.

Go.

Yes, Vidal. We'll go to the beach.

We go to the beach now, okay?

You and poppy.

Now that I had the top-shelf
financing secured,

it was time to
assemble my "A" team.

But what I needed most was for
them to be mine, 100 percent.

One weak link and
my ship would sink.

Turned out I was gonna have to
whip donkeys into racehorses.

I've hand-picked you guys 'cause
you're all adaptable dudes

with no attitudes, just gratitude.
Am I right about that?

Mike hunt, you fed me
many times for free.

Now I'm gonna pay you back.

Terry, your dad being
a sheriff's deputy

is gonna put us at
a huge advantage.

You're gonna be our eyes and
ears inside law enforcement.

Dustin, you're the only jock in high
school who didn't beat the shit out of me.

I appreciate that. Even though
I know you've got a burnt knee,

you're still capable of kicking
ass and hauling grass.

Dylan, you've always
beat me in paintball.

I want you to have my back in case things
go down O.K. Corral style, you feel me?

Fucking Patrick. I mean, we've been friends
since we were, what? Five years old?

Remember that time I got popped for
shoplifting and you took the heat?

Good man.

Scuzz.

You're just Scuzz.

So I have one question,
and one question only.

Can I trust you?

Because we hold each other's
futures in our hands.

United we stand, divided we fall.

And if we fall, it's because someone's
talking when they should be listening.

Someone who has no idea
what the concept of cool is.

Clint Eastwood is cool. Twelve to
twenty words a picture,

doesn't need to brag, doesn't need to
boast, just gets shit done.

How much are we getting paid? Runners get
paid 3500 a run and drivers get 1500 a run.

How much are you getting paid?
Enough to pay you 3500 a run.

I'm putting everything I have,
7everyone I love out on a skinny limb.

So, if it works out, yeah,
I may take home some money.

You're gonna be part of
the "a" team, I need you

in the best shape of your life.

That means we train and we train
and then we train some more.

Pain is just weakness
leaving your body.

You want to stop and take a break?
Take a long one and don't come back.

We can't be in the forest.
We need to become the forest.

We need to be prepared for
any and every eventuality.

We're gonna rig Scuzz's
car with gas cans to explode

if we get pulled over by the cops.

Whoa! Oh, fuck off.

What the fuck? Why my car?

Because it's ready to blow anyway.

- And because I said so.
- Fucking chill. You sound like my dad.

He might be. I mean, the way your
mom sucks and fucks around town...

Fuck you.

We're using two cars,
one decoy and one load car.

Make sure all the cars are clean.
Insurance, even tire pressure.

And we never have the
crisp for the product

in the same car with the runners.

If we get tailed, the rear decoy

will attack and distract and
we will keep on rolling.

Remember the details.

Plan the run and run the plan.

Cell phones off.

If your phone's on, the feds
can trace you absolutely anywhere.

We maintain absolute silence.

If we trip off the motion sensors, they'll
be listening to us with hidden Mikes.

You close every gate you open,
you pack out what you pack in.

Don't even spit unless you have to.

Seriously, the last thing
we want to do is piss off

one of these survivalist
redneck types living in these woods.

It'll be 16.3 miles
across the trail.

Supplier will meet us at
the designated transfer spot

and we swap cash for stash.

Load up.

Hold the bag. Hold the fucking bag.

You'll be carrying 60 pounds each.

I know exactly how
much is going in,

I know exactly how
much is coming out.

So no loose pillows, no scraped
butts, no samples, nothing.

We got a job to do and
we're gonna do it.

They'll be watching from the air.

So when we head back,

we need to be ninjas.
Delta force strike team shit.

Seriously, invisible,
like baby's breath.

Once we make it across
the American side,

it's a flat-out sprint
to the finish line.

If we trip off any sensors,
they'll be looking for us.

We better be in our car
and on our way out

before they even wipe the doughnut
sugar off their mouths. Got me?

You got me or what?

Yeah.

Let's fucking do this.

All right, hold up.

- Hold up.
- What?

We're taking a break.

No. No no no. No sampling.

- Fuck you, Nate. Take it out of my paycheck.
- I will.

Now it's out of
your paycheck, motherfucker.

Those first few runs
went like clockwork.

We were cannabis camels,
team triple "B,"

humming along like
a perfectly oiled machine.

We could finally afford
unlimited wings and premium beer.

Guys, job well done, eh?

Yes. Yes.

Many more to come. Fuck, yeah.

And another thing.

I got something for you.

These wings are pretty...

Happy Birthday to me

this is only the beginning, guys.

Bam.

Jesus, guys, don't open it here.

Don't I get more than
the other driver?

Why?

Because I carried the product.
I took all the risk.

- We'll switch it up next time.
- Yeah, but I need it this time.

- Okay, yeah? And?
- Fuck you, Nate.

Guys, people are looking at us.

Don't fucking tell me to chill.

- Relax, Scuzz.
- Hey, are you Topher?

- What?
- I hear you're paying 3500

to haul great green across the border.
I'd love to get hooked up.

- Who the fuck are you?
- Who told you that, kid?

Who's talking to you, dick monkey?
Look, man, I'll do it for two G's,

and I promise I can run more pounds
than this fucking Teletubby.

- Fucking beat it, kid.
- Get the fuck out of here right now, kid.

- Fucking four-eyed fat fuck.
- What is going on?

Your language. See how fucking long

you can play before you get popped.

Go back to daycare.

- Okay, how you doing?
- What the fuck just happened?

We do one job and all
of a sudden it's

fucking all over the front pages?

Who's talking?
What's going on here?

- Not me, man.
- I didn't say shit, man.

And why the fuck do they think
you're running the show, huh, Toph?

- What's up with that?
- I don't know. Maybe
because I look like a leader

- and I had to carry your
fucking ass the whole way.
- Outside, right now.

Nate.

- Topher, be really nice...
- Did that kid call him a Teletubby?

What is wrong with you?

Me? What is this?

$3,500.

30... are you fucking kidding me?

Drug runners get paid, dude.
A what? I'm not a fucking runner.

Dude, I thought we were partners.

The whole buddy team.
Brothers from another mother.

You wouldn't even have the fucking idea
if it wasn't for me. That's bullshit.

It was my idea. I had
to talk you into it.

You thought it was stupid.
I found the dream connect. Huh?

The dream connect found you,
and then you fucked her.

- Big deal.
- Jesus fuck.

Hey man, I found the finances.

I'm handling the administration and the
distribution. If anything goes wrong,

going way off the
fucking page wrong,

it's my ass signed and stapled to
the bottom line, okay?

Look, I'll give you seven k.

- Fuck your seven k.
- You said we were

- splitting this shit 50-50.
- I never said that.

You said we'd be millionaires.

You will be. I mean,
at seven k a run,

seven runs a week,
you'll be a millionaire

in 16, 17 weeks.

You said fucking
multi-millionaire, Nate.

Then double that!
32 or 34, whatever.

- Jesus Christ, man.
- Fucking unbelievable.

Are you fucking kidding me?

I need you to head up
the next few runs.

And you've gotta
tighten it up, okay?

You're the marine, I'm the...

The head 'em up, move 'em out guy.

I'm... I'm a desk jockey.
I'm the button-up...

How much you getting paid?

- I don't know.
- How much you fucking getting paid?

- I don't know.
- You don't know?

I want ten grand on the next
run, or I'm fucking done.

Fine. I knew exactly how much money
I was making. Fucking earn it, though.

More than enough to
give Topher's ten grand a run

and to make my mom's
wildest dreams come true.

Best feeling in the world.

Okay, maybe second best.

How do you know these people?
Just some people from work.

Is this one of your drug-dealer friends?
Shut up, Phillip. Phillip.

Wow. Look at that view.

It's pretty spectacular, huh?

Oh, my God.

Pretty sweet, huh?

Would you look at that?

Wow.

And you say your friends live here.

Yeah-huh.

Oh, wow.

What is this?

Baby, whose house is this?

It's our house, mom.

What?

Yeah. 7,800 square feet.

Got our own dock.

Built about four years ago.

You got your own upstairs wing.

Kitchen. Two bedrooms.
Two bathrooms.

Anything you want.

Oh, my God.

How can you afford
this, sweetheart?

Wait, wait, wait. You know what?
Stop... I don't wanna know.

No, it's really... it's fine.

These guys, these wall street guys,

they hooked me up with this I.P.O.
And it just... it just blew up.

And now things are skyrocketing.

I'm cashing in.

Oh, I love you.

I love you too, mom. Welcome home.

I don't think my mom really bought

the I.P.O. Story. Any mom can

look in your eye and see the lie.

But it took my 11-year-old bro

to point out what was really up.

You're a drug dealer.

Dealing drugs.

That's what I heard.

Who told you that?

Mm, these guys from school.

I don't do drugs.

I hate drugs.

- Really.
- Really.

You don't do drugs, do you, kid?

- No, I hate 'em.
- Good.

Keep it that way, huh?

But like everyone else,

as long as they were
profiting in a fat way,

no one wanted to know
where the bags of cash

were really coming from.

The next six months were
a green and bubbly blur.

All we were doing was
running through the woods,

and we were clearing
a million a week.

And Topher was still
sampling the buds

every time he went
over for a pickup.

The Grefards were supplying

the highest-quality product

anyone had ever seen.

We had an apartment in Spokane
that we used for the dropoffs.

At first it was once a week.

Then three times a week.

Then every day of the week.

And all of our lifestyles
were taking a serious upgrade.

I finally got a legit eye exam.

With the right prescription,
the world was starting to look

a whole lot better.

I'm not saying where.

But I put a nice chunk
of my profit away

for a rainy day.

My own little 401 (K).

Topher and I even joined a gym.

Got myself a hot trainer and
was well on my way

to losing 50 pounds of
pepperoni pizza baby fat.

Everyone was happy.

Prices were going down.

And quality up.

Everyone wanted a piece of the pie.

We had the best-looking girls
in town in pairs.

Girls that wouldn't've looked in our
direction now were sucking on the big bong.

We were working hard and
playing even harder.

And had forgotten old
man Grefard's advice

about not flashing your hubris

and candy apples, whatever.

My head was so far up my ass,

national geographic
couldn't've found it.

But then one night,
we got a big wake-up call.

What is it?

Did you hear that? What's going on?

Thought I heard something.

Fucking hear anything...

Shut the fuck up.

Okay, do it.

Scuzz! Put out the
fucking cigarette now!

There's nobody here.

Scuzz, put it out!

All right. Come on, come on.

What the fuck are you doing?

Whoa.

What the fuck are you doing?

Same as you, bro.

- Oh yeah?
- Yeah.

Yeah, that's your first mistake.

I got the franchise for this part
of the world, you understand?

Give me the bag.

Give me the fucking bag
before I bust a cap in your ass!

Okay. Okay.

Okay. I'm giving you the bag.

Relax, bro, relax...

Go go go! Go go go!

Fuck!

Fuckin' Asian ass-fuck Butler.

I'd recognize that half-fag
voice anywhere.

Thought our tickets were punched.

I was scared spitless.

If I was smart, I would've
gave him the weed

and make you deal with
the fuckin' Asian fight club.

You do that, Butler would've taken the
weed and killed everyone. Case closed.

All these guys deserve triple
the money on the next run.

Fuck yeah! Fuck yeah! Hazard pay!

- We got fuckin' shot at.
- Guys, you knew the risks.

Fuck man, we could've been killed.

But you weren't, and it's over.

So money's not gonna
change anything.

Fuck yeah it will.

It'll keep you in business, Nate.

What do you guys want from me, huh?

What do we want? What the f...

We just got shot at.
Have you ever been shot at?

- No.
- Have you ever been shot at?

- No.
- We just got shot at.

We just got fucking shot at.

- Where were you?
- Well, I was on the phone...

Well, I was... fuck you.
You were sitting

on your computer eating fucking donuts
while we're doing all the fucking work.

Fuck that!

Jesus fucking Christ, you see
what we're fucking doing for you?

Wait, wait, wait. Wait.
Are you fucking high?

- No, I'm not.
- You just sitting there, smoking bong loads

while we're doing all
the fucking work?

Come on, man.

All right! Okay!

Okay, all right. Okay.

Jesus. Fuck.

You'll get your triple
pay just this once, okay?

I mean, I'm not gonna be making
anything, but that's okay.

I want you guys to be happy.

I want you guys to be safe.

You're not just my employees.

You're my best friends.

I love you guys.

So, yeah. This time I'll do it.

Okay?

We cool?

Just find another route, please?

Be safe?

We're gonna be glocked and
cocked from now on.

I did give them triple
pay for that run.

And they all showed up
for my birthday bash.

Taking full advantage
of my hospitality.

Looking back, I probably should've

reined things in earlier.

But how do you keep
kids like this...

Santa's broken toys
from broken homes

and almost always broke...

From celebrating their success?

While we were celebrating
peace and prosperity,

oxycontin-fueled jealousy
was lurking around the corner.

Little fuckin'wannabe-me's!

Think you can do what I do?

I'll show you what I do.

Dude, you're just gonna shoot some
random fucking geeks like that?

Cool.

- Hey, mom.
- How're you doing?

- Good party?
- Yeah. Better in 30 seconds.

It was pretty cool
being able to bring

two fine and flexible girls
whose name I didn't know

back to my bedroom. Oh, come on.

I think mom got a kick out of it.

A year ago, I couldn't
approach a girl

if she was naked and
calling my name

with a 40-ouncer in each hand.

But I never fooled myself into
thinking I was getting babes

because of my looks or my
thumb size and curved dick.

I'd like to think they would've come
back for seconds even if I went back

to delivering pizzas.

I'd like to think that,
but I was stoned

and delusional, to be honest.

Hot chicks are starfuckers
in Coeur D'alene.

And I was a star.

Here come the fireworks!

Huh?

You wanna party without me?

I own this place!

Fuckin' swimmin'...

I gotta check that out.
I gotta check that out.

Okay.

Maybe he wasn't
trying to hit anyone,

but Brendan Butler
coming over to my house

busting caps where my mom
and little bro live?

You don't pull that kind of shit.

Hey! Hey! What the fuck
are you doing here?

What the fuck are you doing?

Shit!

You're fuckin dead, you
fucking cocksucker!

My family's here!
My fucking family's here!

Thank God everyone was
too wasted to shoot straight.

You guys all right?

Brendan Butler's a
fucking dead man.

These are some guys I went to
school with in Cali.

They're rock hard. Solid as fuck.

Guys, this is Brendan.

No names.

Justin.

Chicken head skinny motherfucker.

These are them.

Which one is it?

Uh...

The fat dude with the glasses.

Nate Norman and Topher Clark.

What's this?

It's for expenses.

- The bullets. Two, three, whatever...
- No no no.

This is supposed to be 50k each.

Look, my brothers

from Italian mothers,

these guys have at least a million

in cash and stash
hidden at their cribs.

I don't think anyone's
gonna report it missing.

And if you wanna rip and
rape the girlfriends,

that's cool.

If things go straight,

I'll contract you
to provide security

for my operation. Okay?

75 G's a week.

Have you guys ever
done this before?

Fuck yeah.

Yeah, man. What do you think?

I think you're lying.

But that's cool.

I'll take enthusiasm
over experience

any day of the week.

You wanna rip it?

- No man, we don't smoke that shit.
- No.

I got way spooked by the shooting,

and so my mom, my
little brother and I

were holing up at
Barry Lerner's pad in the woods.

I stupidly let Scuzz and
this chick Scuzz bucket

crash at my place as long as they paid the
cable bill and boiled the sheets afterwards.

- Don't fuckin' move!
- Face down, ass up!

Do it!

Don't look at us!

Give me your fuckin' hands now.

Give me your hands.

Shut up. Give 'em to me.

Shut up.

Get him up. Come on.

- Get up.
- Ow!

What the fuck?

Hey. Put some clothes on.

Put some fucking clothes on!

Not you, porn star.

You don't need any clothes.

- Get up.
- Ow! Ow!

What, you can't lend a hand?

- Really?
- He stinks like shit.

- Fucking do it.
- Fuck!

I don't think it's the dude.

- What's your fucking name?
- Scuzz.

- Where's the stash, Scuzz?
- I don't know...

- Where's the money?
- I don't know. There's just

what's in my wallet,
and there's a few

- loose buds in the drawer.
- Which fuckin' drawer?

- The one over there...
- Which one?

The middle drawer on the left.
It's that one right there!

Head down. Head down!

Baby, what the fuck is happening?

- I don't know.
- What's happening?

I don't fucking know, okay?

- Hurry up.
- There's nothing fucking in here.

Where's the trash, Scuzz?

Baby...

Where is the cash, Scuzz?

I don't fucking know, dude.
I don't know where...

What the fuck you're talking about!

- Ah! Fuck!
- Leave him alone!

I don't know, dude!

You're gonna show us
where the money is.

I don't fucking know, man.

I'm just crashing here
because Nate got spooked

after Butler came in here shooting.

This isn't even my house.

Where is Nate?

Nobody knows
where fucking Nate is, man.

Everybody is rat-holed
up and quaking...

- Ow fuck!
- Leave him alone!

Ow! Fuck! Stop, stop!

Do you want us to kill
your fucking girlfriend, huh?

I don't want... hey, hey!

You see me? I'm not
joking, motherfucker.

- Ow! Fuck! I can tell...
- Stop! Stop!

I can tell you where Nate's other pad is!
I can tell you where his other pad is!

- Step, step.
- Okay.

Which house is it?

I'll recognize it if I see it.

Look in the side window.

If you fuck up and look at us,

we will see pussy
girlfriend is dead

in two fun-filled hours after you.

Please, just let me go.

Crystal, shut the fuck up.

Don't look at me.

I think it's that one up there.

It should be one with
the pickup in the driveway.

Past that one.

Right here.

This is Nate's house?

Yeah, this is one of his pads.

I mean, I was only here once.

And I was fucked up
on Jaeger and Nyquil.

Look at this fuckin' mess.

Keep 'em fucking quiet.

I really have to pee.

It's a fucking rental.

Don't pee in this fucking car.

I swear to God.

Daddy!

Go! Go!

Wrong fucking house, guys!

I said that I wasn't sure

which one it was, okay?

Please, just stop! Stop it!

Stupid fucking...

Let us go, please!

I oughta kill you right now!

Wait, we...

I don't know what
Mr. Scuzz and Ms. bucket

said to get out of that car alive.

Better not be fucking lying to me!

Stop it!

Please just let us go!

Maybe the Mendiolas

had a soft spot for weak,

spineless turncoats.

Maybe he turned around with talk of
Brendan's stash and cash. Who knows?

Scuzz would turn in his mother

for half a gram and a 50-buck of...

What the fuck was that?

Come on.

- Please...
- Let's go, come on.

You put your buck knife on his ass,

peel it back like a grapefruit,

he would've told you
where Nate lives.

The guy had no idea where he lives.
And there's nothing in that house.

No money, no drugs.

The money was there. Bullshit.

He just played all you posers

like the squirrely,
soft amateurs you are.

I should've known,

comin' from the Cali salad bowl.

We tore that place apart.

Past the drywall,
down to the slab...

You don't look for
the money, Gomer!

You ask him where the money is.

- One fucking time.
- Oh, you're telling us

how to do it now?

Yeah.

I'm telling you how to do it.

Yeah, you...

You ask him where the
money is one time.

And if he doesn't fucking talk,

take his girlfriend
by the short hairs

and knock her front teeth out,
and you gag her with cock.

Tell her little
boyfriend he's next.

He'll show you where the
money is real fast.

Look, I want

this done now.

Jesus, I'll fucking get
the address myself.

How about that? Huh?
I'll pin it to your blouse.

I'll sharpen the knife, hire you a
counselor so you two can sleep at night

after you cut Nate and
Topher's heads off.

What about the bodies?

What about the bodies?

What do you want us to do with 'em?

I don't know.

Why don't you sell
them on fucking eBay!

Fuck me!

Do I have to tell you faggots
how to do everything?

Fuck! Man, maybe I should

teach you how to roll over, huh?

Myrrh, roll over.

See how easy that is?

You would all be dead right now

if I didn't talk my
way out of that car.

I mean, fuck.

I should be a lawyer.

I mean, I could've broken
out of those handcuffs

on my own. I could've taken

either one of them on my own

if I didn't have my hands tied

behind my fucking back.

- Oh yeah?
- Yeah.

What'd you tell 'em, super-Scuzz?

I tell them, "fuck all, man."

So you didn't show them
where you thought I lived?

Fuck you, Nate. The only reason
that you are still alive

is because I took a beating,
and I didn't break.

You would've pissed
your fucking dress.

What was that?

I said that you would
have pissed your fucking dress.

Aah! Fuck!

What the fuck!

That was the dull end!
You want the sharp one?

What the fuck is wrong with you?

You think you're some sort
of fucking drug stud?

My own house was broken
into last night!

Fuck, that's right!
I showed them the house

that you used to live in.

This is chess, not checkers, right?

But you thought I still
lived there, didn't you?

Fuck you, Nate. I need
big money to be able

to get out of town.

Probably some plastic surgery.

I need half a million at least.

- Fucking dead.
- Fuck you!

Fucking traitor!
Get the fuck away from me!

Guys, chill the fuck out.
Put that down.

What we need to do
is man the fuck up

and get our shit together.

- Fucking rat.
- Fuck you, Nate.

The best defense is a good offense.

We need... we need to
put our chips in a pile

and hire some big,
scary motherfuckers...

Some fuckin' rottweilers.

- Push them back on their asses.
- Yeah.

But this shit has to stop.
We're a fucking team.

Listen, Gio.

You get a one-time pass for
not knowing who I am.

A one-time. Okay.

What I mean... I am smart.

I run shit in this
part of the world.

Okay? So consider yourselves lucky.

Huh? You don't know me.

Okay? You're lucky you don't.

'Cause I'm a bad fuckin' ass.

Which fuckin' way?

Which fuckin' way? Which
fuckin' way do you think?

Fuckin' straight.

What your fuckin'
father wanted you to be

before you started
fuckin' this douchebag!

You know, I don't gotta
tell people twice.

Okay? Around here, you're
gonna learn this, boys.

Huh?

Okay? When I say, "go,"
people... people choke.

They tremble, huh?

And it gets done, capisce?

We understand your frustration.

Fuckin' frustration.

Frustration...
I'm trying to win a game.

You don't even know what
fuckin' sport we're playin'.

Yo, here. See?

This will be the perfect
place to, uh, dispose

of a couple of punks, huh?

When you slit their throats, you bring
the varmint to eat 'em quicker, okay?

Huh? Or you just fuckin'
cut 'em up... I don't care.

You think you can handle that?

What the fuck?

Think you can shut up now?

Help me!

You gonna shut up now?

What about the dog?

Leave the fuckin' dog.

Brendan's disappearance brought
out the bottom-feeders,

looking to take over his accounts.

No one paid attention to
my "stop work and lay low" order.

Hold up! Hold up!

What?

I have... I gotta take a shit, man.

Come on, shit in your...,
man. We're not stoppin'.

Fuck. Just let me take a shit.

Look at this fucking guy.

Where the fuck did
you find this guy?

- Friend of Ronnie...
- Are you fucking kidding me?

- Water?
- Yeah.

Hurry up.

Topher was making runs that
he didn't think I knew about,

with a motley crew I wouldn't have
trusted as far as I could piss.

But it took one
greedy cookie-eating,

pee-stained bed wetter...

Who I didn't even know...

To put the final rusty
nail in our coffin.

What the fuck are you doing?
Give me a second!

Pinch that shit!

Dude, wipe your
fucking ass! Let's go!

Coming!

Fuck.

Fuck!

Get away from it.

Three, two, one.

The 21-year-old adopted son

of a prominent Hayden lake family

has been found.

Uh, the police say
that the victim...

Let's do it one more time.
Three, two, one.

Police say that the
victim is Brendan Butler.

The 21-year-old adopted son

of a prominent Hayden lake family

had been missing for
more than a month.

His body was discovered...

This morning at 8:30 on this...

This isolated logging trail.

Police say that there were multiple

stab wounds to his neck.

Some of the sources that
we've been speaking with

say that there may be
some drug connection.

We'll have more in this developing
story coming up tonight at ten.

That's good, right?

Someone's taken out
the competition.

It's better him than me.

Well, who killed the
crazy gook then?

He was jacked up on oxy,

and he pulled the little dick and big
gun act on the wrong fucking guy.

Did you do it?

Excuse me?

You heard me.

Problem's been taken care of.

That's not what I asked you.

- You talk too much, man.
- I, what?

Have a line.

You powder too much.

You snort too much of
that fucking shit.

Can you even see what's
goin' on right now?

- Mind your own business.
- I am minding my own fucking business...

This is all of our business!

I'm in charge.

Did you pay to have him whacked?

Huh?

I run things for a reason.

You don't need to know the details.

Now, why don't you go sit down,

watch some T.V., huh?

Go. Sit down.

Anybody want some coke?

Yeah. Yeah.

Get over here.

We popped you with 12
pounds of marijuana.

Bagged for distribution.

Do you know what a
criminal conspiracy is?

- Yeah, I think...
- Yeah. It's when two or more people

get together to commit a crime.

Right there. Look at this.

"Conspiracy to
distribute marijuana."

There is a mandatory minimum,

25 years in a federal penitentiary.

25 years? That's fucked up.

- I-I was just driving...
- Ripping off your doper buddies...

- No!
- Yeah.

We had people following you
parked on the side of the road.

You weren't gone long
enough to get into Canada,

so you went back there
to get what you'd stolen

and hidden from your
buddies on the last run.

Hmm?

Are you gonna tell my mom?

We've already confiscated
her minivan.

I'm sure she'll find out
before the morning papers.

- She's gonna kick my ass...
- She's not gonna kick your ass, Daniel.

She's gonna be happy...

Because you're gonna
help us find those guys

that got you into
this mess in the first place.

What the fuck?

Time to get up, Nate.

- How did you get...
- It doesn't matter.

I have friends who look out for me.

I'm looking out for you.

And there's a really bad day
with your name on it,

looking for a place to happen.

Well, what should I do?

Go.

Spend some time with
my friends up north.

- Now?
- I like you, Nate.

You've always been
straight up with me,

and in our business,

that is rare.

I am trying to help you live...

Another day.

Come on! Come on!
We're here. Go, go, go!

Come on! Go, go, go, go.

Fuck! Come on! Hurry up, go!

Go, go! Get in.

What the fuck...

Come on, go!

Go, go, go!

Go! Cops! What the fuck? Go!

Fuck! Shit! Where'd
they all come from?

Fucking...

Get out of the vehicle!

Get down on the ground!
Show me your hands!

We got a runner! We got a runner!

Get out of the way.
Hands where I can see them!

Hands where I can see them!

Get down!

Don't move.

- Got him.
- Fuck you, cops!

You smuggled over 18
tons of marijuana

across an international border,

at a value of over $68 million.

You're facing life sentences

with no possibility of parole.

Take a good look at my tits, boys.

'Cause if you don't cooperate,

they're the last pair
you're ever going to see.

I only have a few
"get out of jail early" cards.

So first come, first served.

I want to know who the
guy was at the top.

Who pulled the strings.

Who ran the show.

Nate Norman.

Yeah, it was fuckin' Nate.
Nate Norman.

Nate gave all the orders.

And we just went where he told us to go.
Nate never told us what was in the bags.

We had no idea.

Nate had all of the connections.

Nate kept all the money.

Nate supplied the financing.

We didn't see shit.

Nate told me if I left,
he'd kill my family.

Nate had Brendan Butler killed.

I'm pretty sure he did.

That's what I heard.

I'm pretty sure.

Nate had Brendan Butler killed.

That's a fact.

He was bragging about it.

Nate Norman.

It was Nate's idea.

He ran the show.

Go, go, go!

"Gone to Ecuador for a few months

"to go hiking.

"Have a bowl of BC bud on me.

See ya soon, Nate."

Let me see your hands!
Get your hands above your head!

Right now! Hands over your head!

Where's Nate? Nate Norman?

I don't know!

While I was hiding up in Canada,

moving along the
underground railway,

the feds were doing
every sleazy thing they could

to try to get me back
in their jurisdiction.

That's what the lawyer says, mom.

You could do ten years for money
laundering if I don't turn myself in.

Stick it to Phillip if
they can't get to me.

You just stay where you are, baby.

They're just trying to
squeeze us to get to you.

I just... I just
don't want you guys

to get into any more
trouble because of me.

Baby, they want to put you in jail

for the rest of your
God-given life.

They don't know what
a good boy you are.

That... that you shoveled
Mrs. Roland's driveway

every time the snow
plow blocked it in,

and you never once asked
her for a wooden nickel.

You stay where you are.

Okay?

Love you, mom.

I'm sorry.

Don't be sorry, honey.

It's just pot.

It's just pot.

Welcome back, Mr. Norman.

There's some people
waiting for you.

I could have stayed up in Canada

and had a semi-sweet life,

but I couldn't risk mom doing
one day in the big house.

I thought I would miss the cars,

the houses, the girls,

but I realized it was never
really about the money.

It was about the
thrill of the chase.

Good evening, Mr. Norman.

Thank you for coming back.

Leave the key in the ignition.

You won't be needing those anymore.

Hey, I'm not saying

it wasn't nice swooping down and slipping
ten grand in your best friend's pocket,

- for a hard day's work, hauling hemp.
- Jim.

And guy, whose only other option
was a nametag and $4.25 an hour.

But gratitude and loyalty

are the first things
to run for cover

when you're facing ten years,

busting rocks and dodging cocks.

You know, for the record,

I would've given up a
kidney for Topher.

So when I got rolled
on and sold on,

I really hurt right
down to the marrow.

But he has to live
with what he did.

Karma's a bitch.

I got another dime to do

at the "I fucked up
big time" frat house,

but I've got a solid cell-late,

who's got a great idea for
a money-making venture

that's guaranteed to...

I should probably just
keep my mouth shut.

But you'll learn a lot in prison, if you
keep your head down and your ears open.

I'm not saying it's the greatest
thing that's ever happened to me,

but I'm making the best of it.

That's all you can do.

Play from where the man spots the ball.
Make the most of the opportunities

life puts in front of you.

And get a good lawyer.

Because mine sucked.