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Here comes Lucky!

And they're off. Number 7, Sandy's Rocket, out front.

Right behind him by the three against the rail

as they head down the front stretch...

Number 7, Sandy's Rocket, in control now.

Down the backstretch...

Look at all this fucking coin, dude.

- A.J., where's the capper? - Shredded. Back in VIP.

Look who's Big Money in seven.

- No fucking way, Moose. - Yes fucking way. We're red-hot.

- Don't shit on our streak. - I'm not shitting on our streak.

You're shitting all over our streak big time.

"Four runs and we bone out." Those were your exact words.

Yeah, and Big Money in six was a fucking game changer.

- It's two o'clock. - It's five 'til.

- Come on, we should bounce. - Pensacola's already halfway

- through the post parade, pussy. - Dude, you're going rogue.

- Because you're being a pussy. - Shut the f--

Y'all fixing to place a bet?

Just a sec, darling.

Come on, bitch. Look up there and tell me who's Big Money.

- Sweetchuck's our boy. - Sweetchuck? Fuck you.

Crowd's got wood for Easy Does It.

The crowd goes home in a body bag, okay?

Let's go straight bet. No exotics. Let it ride.

Fuck you! We're up three bills. I'm not letting it ride.

Now who's the pussy?

Get the fucking cab.

All right. And they're off.

Gonna fuck it all up!

What the fuck, A.J.?

Sweetchuck hard-charging...

Pussy. Oh, fuck. Oh, my God. He's breaking...

Run! Run! Run! Come on!

Now he's two lengths ahead.

Oh, shit! Here he comes! Big money, money, money!

And it's Sweetchuck at the wire!

Sweetchuck! Sweetchuck!

No, no, no, no! Moose, our cab!

Some chud's ganking it.

Oh, fuck!

Now what are we supposed to do?

We're screwed.

Oh, what? You gonna run across the river bridge?

A.J., it's the fucking interstate!

Fuck!

Fuck!

Hey! Hey, buddy!

I got an easy 50!

Whoa, whoa, whoa! Stay in this lane!

You almost hit that car!

Fuck! Moose...

All right, I need you to punch this shitbox, all right?

Moose, Moose...

[boy] Come on! Come on!

Where the heck have you guys been?

We've been waiting for 35 minutes.

We got stuck on the train by the Bongo habitat.

Some kid had a grand mal seizure and they shut it down.

- What could we do? - Just get on the dang bus.

Hey, butt fuck!

You're both dead if I'm late for practice.

What practice, Randy? You do wrestling and football.

Yeah, it's fucking May, loser.

Fuck off.

All right, homeboy, what are you feeling?

Benjys and Grants or Jackies and Hams?

- Why're you doing the lip thing? - I'm not doing a lip thing.

Makes you look like you're prepping to suck an asshole.

No more wild-card shit. You're breaking your own rules.

Fuck off, don't be such a basket case.

Look at this epic fucking split, dude!

Goddamn it, I want to epic split your fucking mouth.

Yeah? Why don't you try it, pussy?

Because every chaperone on this bus

is fucking staring at us.

What?

- Yo, question. - Yeah, dude?

Who'd you like in the 8th?

Hoo-hoo-hoo!

Ooh, what's the wort at?

Uh, it's at 69 degrees.

All right, let's pitch the fucking yeast

and put her to bed.

Home sweet home.

Squeeze that airlock in.

- Is that one leaking? - Brand-new tub.

How could it be leaking?

Let's check the pH on the lagers.

Booyah. What are you feeling?

Let's go pilsner.

- Cheers. - Cheers, dude.

Whoa.

Looks bright.

Spritzy.

Mm. Wow.

Yeah, I know, dude. We fucking made that!

- We made that! - This is, like, real beer.

Mm! Let's go with that.

- What? - Real Beer. For the label.

I found a printer in Tecumseh.

They can bang them out for two cents a pop.

I dig it.

All right, so, look, man, I want to pitch you an idea.

Okay, hit me.

It's time to expand the operation.

All right, so look, dude,

we're sitting on a cash cow with Real Beer.

Fifteen gallons a month is baby stuff

compared to what we could do

if we scaled her up to a buck twenty.

- A hundred and twenty gallons? - A month, dude.

And we'll cash flow our day-to-day ops

with our track winnings until we get to a rhythm

where this thing is running itself.

Moose, we haven't even sold a single beer.

Yet. You gotta learn to forecast, bitch.

Fuck!

We hit two matinees a week, we're solid gold.

Two? We'd be lucky to scrounge up a ride every two weeks.

Pause. Don't worry about transpo.

Transpo's my turf. And we'll circle back in a sec.

A huge part of this operation is figuring out

the right foot soldiers to bring in.

What do you think of Jason Beaumont?

Dude, fucking kid's a narc. He'd squeal for sure.

Yeah! I love your instincts! That's why you're gonna run HR.

Handle all the recruiting.

Fuck!

That was a fucking neck shot!

- Forecast. - You said no fucking necks.

So are we in agreement

that transpo's our number one concern?

Hundred percent.

And until this operation's got wheels,

if feels like it's dead in the water.

Okay, hear me out.

Fuck, these are awesome.

Tom, we're good to go.

Kip Langer's older brother. You know him?

- Darian? - No, Darian's in Chrissy's class.

I'm talking about Gary.

With the lazy eye and the gelled hair.

- Oh, yeah. The DJ guy. - Yeah.

So he's got a limo thing on the side, dude.

Like weddings and proms, all that type of shit.

Thanks, Tom.

You know what?

Here's a little something for you.

So obviously, his rates are premium on the weekends,

because that's where all the action is.

But Monday through Thursday is a total fucking dead zone.

So I've got Gary locked in at 25 bucks an hour,

plus we gotta float the gas.

But all he needs is a three-hour heads-up.

So you want to take a limo back and forth between Bluffs Run?

Yeah, twice a week.

It'd be like a C-note per run, max.

- That's it? - That's fucking it, dude.

It's actually a really boss idea.

It's airtight, bitch. I knew you'd be all over it.

This fucker's double O-C too.

Huh?

Fucking limo, asshole.

It's got a 13-inch TV with a built-in VHS.

Mini wet bar. Motorola bag phone.

Why would we need a bag phone?

In case we gotta move on some shit

and we don't have time to hit a payphone.

Look, stop fixating on the bag phone.

- Are you in or you out? - I'm in.

- I'm in, yeah. - All right, I'll set it up.

Oh, buddy, we're gonna be rolling

in so much fucking dough this summer.

♪ Rollin' down the street ♪

♪ I saw this girl and she was pumpin' ♪

♪ I winked my eye, she got into the ride ♪

♪ Went to a club, was jumpin' ♪

♪ Took her to the hotel ♪

♪ She said, "You're the king" ♪

♪ I said, "Be my queen if you know what I mean" ♪

♪ And let us do the wild thing ♪

♪ Wild thing ♪

[A.J.] Yo, I'm home.

Mm, Mrs. C., these deer chops are banging.

What's going on?

How was the field trip, boys?

Oh, like the best ever.

Yeah, we got to hand-feed the giraffes.

Yeah, the sucker was eating right out of our palm.

Speaking of hands, let me smell those hands.

Jesus, what?

No. Why?

Are you trying to hide something from us?

Oh, he is. Big time.

No, no, I just don't want you smelling my hands.

It's weird.[Judge] It's not weird.

It's just a set of hands, son.

Afraid we'll find out about the cigarettes?

Cigarettes? We--

Mr. Rubenking said he saw you and Moose

smoking cigarettes in the VIP area

of I-80 OTB this afternoon.

I-80 OTB?

It's an off-track betting parlor.

In Council Bluffs, Iowa.

Right across the river bridge

from the Henry Doorly Zoo.

Smoking cigarettes and going berserk!

He emphasized "berserk."

And the damn neon shirts!

Awful quiet, Moose.

Did you get those fancy shoes with your gambling winnings?

Guilty! - Moose...

Chrissy, go to your room.

- No way. - In your room, young lady.

Ugh!

- Witness stand. - No.

No, I'm not...

There's been a pattern with you two.

- An escalation. - A very dangerous escalation.

- We're not escalating. - Illegally crossing state lines

to hang out at an off-track betting parlor?

We're not hanging out. We're working.

- Working! - Oh, my God!

- You're not a pro gambler! - Are you two doing dope?

Okay, no on the dope,

and no, I'm not gonna become a professional gambler.

You two idiots are gonna end up in a double funeral

or on the side of a fricking milk carton.

Is it Moose? Is he the one that talks you into this crazy stuff?

No, it's not Moose. I came up with the system.

The system? What is the system?

A secret system for big-money long shots.

You're 14 years old!

You don't have a fricking system!

Dude, I am so fucking sorry.

The Judge started doing the lip thing,

and I just fucking panicked.

Did you tell them about the system?

They don't want to hear about Big Money, Moose.

I'm grounded.

Banned from the track and banned from Iowa.

Oh, Jesus fucking Christ, dude.

This rat-fucks our whole plan.

There is no plan. We're done.

No more running free range. They're shutting us down.

I've got one week to find a legit job

before my mom goes full-tilt DEFCON.

Full tilt? What do you mean?

Baseball. Bible camp.

Weekends at her auction crew.

Fuck your mom's auction crew. Shit pay.

Tell her we're not signing on for three bucks an hour.

She made no mention of hiring you.

We're a package deal, A.J. You don't break up the band.

Look, just circle the heavy hitters, okay?

Don't waste your time with that entry-level slop.

- I'm not. - Dude, don't worry.

Tomorrow after school, we'll get some shit lined up.

Easy peasy.

All right?

- See ya, pussy. - See ya.

What if we doubled the batch?

And then had only one foot soldier

instead of an entire roster of guys to manage?

Fuck me, you really want to hobby brew?

No--Look, the company's fucked.

We're never gonna cash-flow this thing with minimum wage

and suck-ass hours.

Excuse me.

Pass the sack. I got dibs on that last one.

Fuck you. The big boy's mine.

Give it to me.

It's my money, it's my gizzard.

Fuck, dude. My neck!

Forecast.

Boom! Right in the breadbasket!

And you fuckstains are no Mike Rozier.

Is it piss?

Straight from the tap, sweet cheeks.

You two dip fucks better grow eyes in the back of your head.

High school's gonna be a fucking meat grinder!

It's open season, limp dicks.

You never know when, you never know where.

- Pussies! - Whoo!

You boys all right?

That's piss, ain't it?

Yeah, it's piss.

Holy shit!

Shane!

What the fuck?

So much for one weekend a month, huh?

- Shotgun. - No fucking way.

Get in the back, mutant.

What's up, Eagle?

Fucking A...

This is why you're in the back.

Hold on to your fucking tits.

Fuck the Carmichaels.

Don't let those pussies run a psyop on you.

Rodney's a horror show, dude. That Boz cut, those muscles.

I mean...

He's a fucking juicehead, Eagle.

He used to bitch out when I wrestled him at 160.

Yo, Rambo? Fucking waste anyone over there?

The whole thing was over in a hundred hours, dipshit.

The only thing I wasted was my freshman year.

The town's still covered in yellow.

Maybe they'll give you the keys to the city, dude.

Shit, I'd settle for the keys to the Toddy Shop.

Old enough to die for Uncle Sam,

but still can't buy a fucking sixer.

Yo, homey. Do you want a beer?

Fuck!

Seriously?

You turds made this?

Yeah.

All right, so check it. You gotta pour it like this.

And don't drink the stuff on the bottom.

Copy that.

Moment of truth.

Well?

Goddamn, fellas.

It's not shit.

- It's drinkable as fuck. - Drinkable as fuck!

Oh, yeah, dude!

That's going on the fucking sticker for sure!

All, right, can we put you down for a case?

Whoo!

Well, you know the rules.

No glass on deck.

Yes, sir.

The water's piss-warm, dude.

Yeah. Ron always cranks it for the invitationals.

Hey, we need to bag some summer jobs.

- You think you can hook us up? - No.

It's not gonna fly. You gotta be 16 to guard.

Ron might budge on the Eagle Scout,

but definitely not on you.

Well, fuck Ron. Fuck the pool. Me and A.J. are a package deal.

Shit, you can ask the Bravo boys if they need an extra hand.

With what?

They're planning on running that thing this summer.

What thing? - That thing.

The Snack Shack.

So does their family, like, own it or something?

No, Bravos don't own it. City owns it.

Yo, toss me your keys.

I want to see inside that fucker.

Don't have any.

Snack Shack's totally separate from the pool.

Okay, so they rent it from the city?

No, I think it gets bid out through Parks & Rec.

- Okay, how's that work? - I don't know, dude.

I think they bid it out

at the city council meeting tomorrow.

How much the Bravos throw down on that sucker?

Ask them. They're gonna be at the sunken lot tonight.

Are you thinking what I'm thinking?

That we hit the sunken lot, dump some beer,

get intel on the Bravo boys' bid,

then rat-fuck them at the city council meeting tomorrow night.

Yo! Shit pig.

You all right?

Huh? Me?

Yeah. You, like, having a fit or something?

Oh. It's just allergies. It's like...

- Allergies? - Grass, pollen, ragw--

Yeah, like the movie about the kid in the plastic bubble?

No. No, it's not like him at all.

- I'm nothing like that. - Yeah, right.

Seriously.

Oh, God, you are totally like him.

Sorry.

What is that?

My hanky?

Your hanky?

Oh, it's not mine. It's actually my dad's.

Your dad loaned you his fucking snot-rag?

Just temporarily.

Sorry, I'm not usually like this.

I-I-I just took a Benadryl.

So...

Why are you doing that?

It's a free country, shit pig.

Close your mouth, you look like a fucking grass carp.

God, I don't know why Leah's so into you.

She made it out like you were a real catch.

Oh. So you're, like, Leah's cousin or something?

Doi.

And lucky me, she's only 35 miles south of Offutt,

so this shithole gets to be my reality all summer.

Hmm.

Hey, what's the suicide rate in this hick town?

Is that marijuana?

What? Are you allergic?

Oh, shit.

What is happening right now?

I just, uh...

It's dinner.

I should go.

I guess so.

See you around, shit pig.

Sooey!

So, how's the job hunt coming along?

Mom, it's been like 48 hours.

Watch the sass back.

Mm, I got an auction in two weeks.

Ordered you a medium with the new logo, just in case.

It's polo style this year.

- And salmon. - Mm! Chrissy's idea.

I designed them.

Have you thought about mowing lawns?

Now that's an idea.

Are you kidding me? This is me after one lawn.

Oh, come on, nothing a little Benadryl couldn't level out.

- God bless you. - Bless you.

This is Benadryl. I'm the fricking poster boy.

- No fricks. - No fricks.

- Stuff it, Chrissy. - You stuff it.

- Stuff it big time. - Zip it.

Hey, Mom, there's a study group tonight for the Civics final.

Does it involve Moose?

No. It's over at Beaumont's.

- There's a fella with a plan. - Such a go-getter.

Maybe you could tag-team with his mowing business,

start some kind of lawn empire.

No. I don't want to start a lawn empire with Jason Beaumont.

I just want to cram for the Civics test.

Watch the sass back.

- Ten p.m. - Ten?

Mom, come on, it doesn't even start until eight--

Ten fifteen. You're still grounded, buddy.

Eleven.

Here we go now. Gonna let it go now.

We're gonna start now at 10, 10, we'll bring it up to 10:15.

- We're taking the 10:15. - Hey!

All the way up to 11, we're looking at 11.

Eleven's too high. Grounded.[Judge] Hey!

Bring it all the way back, now 10:30, now 10:15.

10:15 it's gonna be, and I'm giving you 10:15.

- Sold now. - Sold!

♪ I was clowning in class like I usually do... ♪

Dude, I can't believe we just dumped two cases.

Two cases is pussy.

Look at all these college kids.

We gotta partner up with some frats.

Get our foot soldiers in UNL, UNO,

fucking Peru State.

Dude, we could be offloading 400 gallons of Real Beer a month.

Easy.

Hey, watch where you're going, prep.

- Sorry, dude. - What did you just fucking say?

We got a problem here?

There is so not a problem.

I didn't know he was with you.

Sorry. It won't happen again.

Shane fucking Workman!

Oh, Bravos. Right over there.

Okay, I've got this shit. Hang back in the wings.

Hey, what's up, boys?

Who the fuck are you assholes?

Moose Miller. This is my associate, A.J.

We're the guys behind Real Beer.

Real Beer?

Yeah, that beer you're drinking.

Wh-- You made this?

Yeah, man.

We're still finalizing the design on the logo,

but that next batch will look as good as it tastes.

How old are you guys?

- Fourteen. - Sixteen.

Almost fifteen.

Oh, yeah. I know this guy.

You're the judge's kid, aren't you?

Yeah, he did our mom and dad's divorce.

Huh?

I said your dad did our mom and dad's divorce!

So, uh, we heard you guys are renting the Snack Shack

out of the pool this summer.

Yeah. So what?

Well, Shane had mentioned

that you guys might need some extra hands.

- Nah, we're cool. - We can handle it ourselves.

It's probably a real gravy train, huh?

We do all right.

Mm-hmm.

What's it cost to rent it out?

Three grand my ass. They're bluffing, big time.

I don't know, dude. A grand a month seems legit.

Chump change compared to what the fucker could turn over.

Look, I say we go full tilt on the Snack Shack.

What's the pH at?

It's a hair over 5.2.

All right. I should go.

Jean'll kill me. Fucker's definitely leaking.

It's not. Look, dude,

even if it took us all of June to break even on the 3K,

it'd still tee us up right in the sweet spot of the summer.

Fucking Fourth of July to mid-August?

That's like six weeks of straight Profit Town.

We can't cover three grand. We're 1,600 bucks short.

Yeah? So, look,

I want to pitch you an idea.

The whole kit and caboodle?

Yeah. Yes... Yes, ma'am.

Take off those glasses.

Is there a problem here?

- Goddamn. - I can't believe I let you

talk me into this diaper shit, Moose.

Like I had to twist your arm at 18 percent, you fucking shyster.

Plus, you're the one without a joint account, dude.

- Why are we wearing suits? - We look like power players

that come in and cash out 2K in a New York minute.

Oh, my God. She's talking to the manager.

Dude, don't get your tits in a ringer.

I bet it's just protocol for any withdrawal over a grand.

No, that's Neil Bruning.

He's in bridge club with my parents and his wife.

Bruning can't say shit, bitch. It's not a joint account.

A.J.

Pretty chunky withdrawal for a school day, don't you think?

We're entrepreneurs.

All right, last on the agenda:

the concession stand out at Steinhart Pool.

Scooter, I understand the bids are in?

Uh, just a single, Mike. From Chris and Jeff Bravo.

To the tune of--

- Hold on! - Hey, wait! Stop.

That is three thousand and one...

USD.

Our bid for the concession stand at the Steinhart Pool.

In singles?

Oh, it's a bit unorthodox,

but the council will consider all bids,

proposed or otherwise.

- Correct, Mr. Mayor? - Aye.

And the Bravos?

It looks like a check for...

$300.

Well, boys,

you've got yourself a Snack Shack.

What the hell were you two idiots thinking?

We have spent the last two hours

- trying to track you down! - Where is that money?

Here, that's 400 right there.

400?[Judge] Where's the rest?

I've got Bruning telling me you drained your savings account.

This is tied with the gambling, isn't it?

No, Mrs. C--[both] Shut the frick up!

We went down to the city council meeting

and we bid on the Snack Shack at Steinhart Pool, and we won.

You bid $2,000 on the Snack Shack at the swimming pool?

Actually, we bid three.

And that money there is for supplies and stuff.

Supplies and stuff?

Jean! Hand me that damn phone!

Hello? Carters.

Les?

I just found a still in my basement.

The boys are making alcohol.

I thought his waterbed had popped, but it was hooch.

Leaked out all the way to the basement steps.

It's a science project.

Oh, bullshit!

Five bucks says they were gonna peddle this shit to kids.

No.

No. No!

What is wrong with you?

Hey, Dad? Can I say something?

And our lucky 16th caller

will receive not one,

but two tickets to see Mannheim Steamroller live

this September at the Orpheum.

Again, that's 187-3348

for the studio line.

Coming up at the top of the hour,

we've got the Ag Report, followed by Party Line.

How could you?

That money was for college.

Or a car.

Mom...

Oh, man.

This place is wrecked.

It's a... It's a total shithole.

Yeah.

But it's our shithole.

Fuck.

Where's the fridge?

How the fuck should I know?

There's no fridge. There's no microwave.

That's a double punch to the dick.

Why is the floor so fucking sticky? God!

And I'm pretty sure that's rat shit.

All right, bitch. Let's get to work.

We need this fucker spick-and-span

in case some inspector comes sniffing around. I'm serious.

Wait, wait, what the fuck are you gonna do, Moose?

- Are you for real? - Yeah.

I gotta handle all the upper management shit.

- Upper management? - Fucko, we're ten days out.

We don't have a candy distributor locked.

No chips. No pop. No fridge. No nuker. No fucking money.

- What do you think I'm doing? - We're absolutely fucked.

No, we're not fucked.

My parents are gonna send me to military school.

Calm the fuck down. No one's going to military school.

All right, look, have a smoke.

Okay.

New deal. We gotta resurrect one of the old schemes.

Make some quick cash to float the first week.

- You still holding any Utilac? - I think I've got ten cans.

- Then we run Curbs-n-Candy. - With what candy, Moose?

Those Boy Scout chocolates. Those Turtles.

- No, that shit's pre-Webelos. - Who gives a shit?

It's not like some old bird's gonna check the expiration date.

God. You're subhuman.

You know that, right?

Oh, shit, dude. I bet that's the Aksarben rep.

I left the payphone number with some chick at corporate.

Just scrub the vermin shit, okay?

I'll be back in a flash.

Again, Mrs. Havercamp,

we're talking a top-of-the-line, aerosol-based Utilac 490.

Aesthetically, it is a stunning, high-gloss finish.

- Who are you with again? - SprayTech Industries, ma'am.

We specialize in aerosol-based paint solution.

Wait, what is all this?

Oh, we'll paint your address on your street curb.

No. I don't think so.

Well, then might we offer you a delicious four-pack

of milk chocolate Turtles?

Yo, here's the sitch.

Homeboy's wanting to know if we'd do two-fifty

and all this for the paint job.

- Is that a bucket of golf balls? - Uh-huh.

Come on, have some dignity, Moose.

No, dude, there are some heavy hitters in here.

Pings, Callaways.

Fucking this dude's clean as a whistle.

Okay.

I mean, I guess we could go down to the golf course,

gank a couple empty three-packs from the dumpster

behind the clubhouse, dress them up like new.

Dude, we can flip those bitches for five bucks a pop.

Yeah, okay, I'm in.

Alrighty, Willy.

Sold.

That's insane.

Yeah, true story. Come on in.

- Go on, take a seat. - Yo, dude.

Change okay?

Oh, yeah. Count it, dude.

Uh, okay, I noticed

all these Wall Street Journals. Jesus Christ.

Ah! You want to play the market, huh?

- Yes, yes. Big time. - Well...

I've got two words for you.

Tucson Electric.

Tucson Electric?

Come on, that geezer's brain was totally pickled.

I don't think so, dude.

Willy's got the skinny. You see all those WSJs?

Yeah, I saw them. Half of them were yellow.

1985 yellow.

Fucking porch smelled like a men's shelter.

He's throwing us a bone 'cause he digs our vibe, dude.

I'm telling you, we should think about dumping like half our ROI

- into Tucson Electric. - Moose!

We're running a bunch of schemes to pay for the fuck-ups

on a job we haven't even started yet.

Just keep an open mind, bitch. Damn.

Hey.

Shit pig.

You're looking low.

Maybe this'll jazz things up.

What do you think?

It's hideous.

Oh, come on. It's solid gold. Hold that sucker up.

Wait...

That's another keeper.

It tells a story. Like an evolution.

An evolution?

Yeah.

Cool.

So, what's your name?

Whoa, shit pig. Are you flirting with me?

[Leah] Brooke?

Yo. - Gimme a ride to Chompy Cone?

Oh, yeah, sure. Hop in the Jeep, girl. Buckle up.

Hi, A.J.

Hey.

Summer jobs in Hicksville.

Any ideas?

I don't do polo shirts or visors.

I don't do polo shirts either, so...

Hmm, you are flirting with me.

Oh, uh, can you swim?

Yeah.

Smell that?

On par with pussy.

Hey, you ever, uh, had a couple boxes fall off the truck?

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

Look, is your mom or dad around?

I need a Hancock to square up on this invoice.

Nah, man, me and homeboy here are 50/50 on this bitch.

I'm the one that set everything up with Donna at HQ.

- No shit. - Mm-hmm.

So check it, so that's $350 right there,

but don't sweat the change.

Are you gonna be our regular driver, Dean?

Yup. Thursdays around 11 if you got an order in.

All right, here's a little something for you.

- Seriously? - Yeah. Let me see that blade.

Hold on to this.

Bring it back if some peanut M&M's ever fall off the truck.

You feel me?

What the fuck are you doing?

What do you mean?

We're still short, and you're bleeding out Grants

to Dean the delivery guy?

Yeah, but watch how it boomerangs back, bitch. Tenfold.

I don't want to watch it boomerang back, Moose.

I want to get out of the fucking hole.

Lip thing.

Look, there's a poker game tonight at Duff Warfield's.

Fifty-dollar buy-ins.

We sweep that shit, we're in like Flynn.

First week's covered.

And if we lose?A.J., these guys are farm team.

We're talking sure shot. Like taking candy from a baby.

You haven't even said shit about the fridge yet.

- You're welcome. - Yeah, it fucking reeks.

- Where'd you get it? - Fusselman's.

Sucker's only five years old.

Can you believe they'd dump this baby?

You got our fridge from the funeral home?

Yeah. Nuker too.

Shit was a steal on Party Line.

Plus, they fucking delivered, dude...

for a small fee.

- Wait, what did you say? - Look, just get her stocked.

Okay? Anything chocolate goes in the freezer.

I gotta move on some hot dogs back at the IGA.

They practically give them away when they're down to the wire.

- Okay, I'll see you. - Wait...

♪ Okay, what is it tonight? ♪

♪ Please just tell me what the hell is wrong ♪

♪ Do you wanna eat? Do you wanna sleep? ♪

♪ Do you wanna drown? ♪

♪ Just settle down ♪

♪ Settle down, settle down ♪

♪ I'll give you give candy, give you diamonds ♪

♪ Give you pills, I'll give you anything you want ♪

Hey. ♪ Hundred-dollar bills ♪

♪ I even let you hear the songs I want to sing ♪

♪ I'll give you anything, anything, anything ♪

What's up, shit pig?

Those dance moves are straight cringe.

Hmm.

So is this your little hovel?

Come on, give me a hand.

So...

Talk to your boy yet?

My... my boy?

Yeah, about getting me a job?

All right.

Show me an armpit tow.

On that skanky thing?

Relax, shit pig.

This doesn't mean we're going steady.

Can you stop calling me that?

Never.

This doesn't feel like your first rodeo.

My daddy's an ex-PJ.

So I spent the last two summers fishing airmen out of the pool

at Wright-Patterson, just for shits and giggles.

Holy shit.

Well, I don't think I'm gonna have to convince Ron.

See you tomorrow.

Roger, Wilco.

For my scrapbook.

All right.

Walk me home, shit pig?

I gotta get back to it.

Still a lot of inventory to sort, so...

Got it.

All right. See ya.

Inventory to sort?

That was just sad.

I fucked up, didn't I?

Yeah. Big time.

Oh!

♪ Whoa, oh, oh, oh, oh ♪

Shane! Oh, it's so good to see you!

Mm!

Huh. What is going on here, huh?

Oh, where did your little boy go?

I'm so glad that you're home safe and sound.

- Must've been awful over there. - Oh, it was a cakewalk, Mrs. C.

Kuwait wasn't a cakewalk. He's being modest.

Two hundred and fifteen days

of rear echelon, non-potable water distro.

Cakewalk City, BFE.

BFE?Hey, Shane. Watch this.

Pretty good.

Hey, another beer, Judge?

Well, all right.

Wow.

Oh, no. No, no, no. I don't think so.

- Absolutely not. - Oh, come on.

No one ever got worked up when I was 15.

He's 14.

You know that him and Moose have been making their own.

I might've heard something about that.

I'm glad you're gonna be keeping an eye on him at the pool,

because he is one step away from Nemaha Valley.

Oh, come on. That place is a torture chamber.

He'd come out a robot.

He could use a little bit of that straight and narrow.

You know, his father and I are waiting to see

if there's an open slot this fall.

Have you seen him at the pool yet?

At the Snack Shack? He is busting his butt.

He's totally dialed, I'm telling you.

- Hey there. - Hey.

Future BMOC.

- What's all that business? - Sigma Chi handshake.

A little birdie said someone's pledging.

Yeah, I guess that's the plan.

Ooh! That's a solid plan.

But the little birdie did not mention a major.

I'm thinking maybe Poly Sci, Econ. Who knows?

Well, just don't bury your nose too deep in those books.

There's a lot of extracurriculars at the house,

you feel me?

Yeah.

- Law school? - Oh, still on my mind, Judge.

- Still on my mind. - Good answer.

He's got an eye on Northwestern.

Now, if you need a letter of recommendation, anything,

you let me know.

Taking notes?

On what?

Everything.

♪ Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh ♪

Don't let 'em get you down, Eagle.

You and Moose are OG as fuck. They just don't know it yet.

Hey, at least your life isn't mapped out to a T

for the next six years.

You really pledging Sigma Chi?

Fuck no.

What's all this?

Oh. Asymmetric warfare.

Alaska. Next summer.

You want in?

I was planning on flying solo,

but I'd make an exception in your case.

No, Jean'll never let me go to Alaska.

Oh, don't worry about Jean.

I'll guilt her into it.

You got totally hosed on Philmont last summer,

and she knows it.

Hit that fucker.

Mm.

Kenai. Kodiak.

Denali.

That's grizzly bear country.

You chickenshit?

Hardly.

So, what's something like this cost?

You scrape together a grand and you're in.

That'll cover park passes, chow, gear...

bear spray.

I'll float gas, everything else.

Are you serious?

As cancer.

Fourth of July to August 9th, 1992.

What do you say?

You in or out, Eagle Scout?

In. Yeah. Big time.

All right.

What's that?

Am I doing this right?

Not really feeling anything.

Just give it a sec.

This is good KB from Iowa City.

Moose.

You feeling anything?

Hold this.

Thanks.

Yo, I think your boy's a scratch on the poker game.

I think I am starting to feel something.

Are you all in?

Eagle?

Are you all in?

Hey, Eagle.

All you all in?

Hey.

Buddy. Are you all in?

In or out, zombie. I don't have all fucking night.

I still want to diddle your mom before curfew.

Fucking smoke this chump. He's bluffing.

Mm, we're totally fucked, aren't we?

Hey, shut the fuck up, Moose.[Randy] Come on!

Shit or get off the pot!

All in.

My boy's all in.

A.J., this is literally everything.

Full boat. Kings over eights. Read it and weep, bitch.

Fuck!

Oh!

Holy fuck!

How the fuck do you lose?

Hey, Randy, I got something for you!

That's my fucking boy right there!

Wait! Hold on! Here it is!

Fuck you!

Go fuck yourself, Moose. How about that?

Pleasure doing business with you boys. Thank you.

Go fuck yourself, Shane.

Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you!

You're fucking walking home.

Whoo-hoo-hoo!

Yeah! Trying to punk on us! Yeah!

Goddamn Eagle!

Suck my dick, bitch!

All right, hold on, bitches!

♪ I feel depressed, I feel so bad ♪

♪ 'Cause you're the best girl that I've ever had ♪

♪ I can't get your love... ♪ Gimme some fries.

Get out of here, you fucking puke.

♪ Oh little girl, psychotic reaction ♪

♪ And it feels like this ♪

Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!

Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!

Hello?

Why the fuck are you still at home, dude?

It's 9:30. This fucker's packed.

The pool?

No shit, Sherlock! Get your ass down here!

The Coke guy's dropping the syrup tanks in five.

Okay, okay. I'm out the door. Whoa! Do you have ice? Forgot.

What? You gotta bring me ice, dude.

How am I supposed to bring--?

Fucking...

Get off the cooler, dipshit. These bags are half water.

Slam this fucker.

Slam it.

Why is the slider down?A.J., we're in.

Buck fifty in 20 minutes.

- You fucking kidding? - No!

Calling it now.

Thousand-dollar day.

All right, animals. Make some fucking lines.

Let's do this shit.

♪ No, no, no, nobody can do ♪

♪ The shing-a-ling like I do ♪

♪ Nobody can do the skate like I do ♪

♪ Nobody can do boogaloo like I do ♪

Who wanted the M&Ms?

Coke, please.

Four hunds, baby!

Yeah!

♪ Nobody but me ♪

♪ I'm gonna skate right through ♪

♪ Ain't nobody do it but me, babe ♪

♪ Nobody but me ♪

♪ Well, let me tell you nobody ♪

♪ Nobody but me ♪

Nine-fifty, baby!

Nine-fifty?

Nine-fucking-fifty?

Nine-fifty?

♪ Nobody, nobody ♪

♪ Nobody ♪

Moose, I'm all out of ammo!

Last mag, homey.

Eleven hundred clams!

I never doubted you. You know that, right?

Oh, you fucking doubted me big-time.

Oh, shit. We got a tank down.

I'm on it.

Hey, shit pig.

Can you float me a Diet Coke?

Shit pig?

Uh, Moose. Diet Coke?

♪ No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no ♪

♪ No, no, no, no, no, no ♪

There you go.

Thanks.

Cute friend.

♪ Oh, yeah, nobody ♪

♪ Nobody, nobody ♪

♪ Nobody ♪

You fucking know that chick?

♪ Nobody ♪

Sixteen fifty and thirty-five cents!

Holy fucking shit, dude.

Like I said, I never doubted you, Moose.

What the fuck are you doing?

It's Kojak in the waterfall, right?

Kojak in the waterfall? No, after the Aksarben order.

Coca-Cola. Chips. Hot dogs. Buns. Ketchup. Ice.

This is you.

- Thank you. - Drop it!

- This is mine. - No. The money or the wing.

You cannot have both.

Fine.

It's all you.

Busted, creeper.

Get the hell out of here, chud!

God!

Nice wheels, douchebag!

Love the wagon, shit pig.

- I'll see you tonight. - You know it.

Hey.

Guess who just asked out the new chick?

What? No.

Who? Brooke?

Is that her name?

Ah.

Night swim, baby!

Mm.

Better get the pussy fingers limbered up, dude.

Fuck.

Here's the kicker, though,

so don't go getting all worked up, okay?

I promised her we'd double.

- What? - Yeah, me and her, you and Leah.

♪ Surprise, surprise ♪

♪ So you rub your eyes ♪

♪ Never knew UDS so cool as ice? ♪

♪ Profiles are low as soon as we go ♪

♪ As a breeze straight from a deeper shade of soul ♪

I can't do it, A.J.

Just the thought of it is making me dizzy.

It's okay.

I'll swim out and get you if you freak.

I don't know. It's so high up.

Hey, I bet you five bucks

I can swim over to the high-dive board on one breath.

- You're on, bitch. - Yeah?

Yeah.

Why you sad-sacking in the five foot, shit pig?

I'm not.

Stop calling me that.

Shit pig.

Fuck yeah, girl!

That's a one and done!

I'm going for it, A.J.

[Moose] Whoo!

Ow.[Moose] You okay?

What are you doing?

Jeez, my abdomen still feels like it's on fire.

Hey, are you cold? Do you want my shirt?

What? It's like 80 degrees out, weirdo.

Okay. Stop!

Yo. Yo, guys. Get over.

What the fuck?

Just back it up.[A.J.] Leah.

Come and jerk my nuts, motherfucker!

Fuck you, bitch![A.J.] Fucking bitch!

Who the fuck?

Fucking pussies!

Oh, shit.

Fuck, dude, they're doubling back.

- Yeah, we'll fucking show them. - What?

- Fuck. - Let's fuck 'em up.

- What are you gonna do? - Don't worry about it.

- Stay there one second. - All right.

Three, two, one.

Fuck you!

Shit, dude, that's not the same car.

- That's the car. - That's a fucking cop.

That's not a fucking cop.

Fuck, we gotta go. We gotta go. We gotta go.

[A.J.] Guys, left.

Come on, this way. This way. Leah, get down.

Come on.

5-7 Nebraska City. 10-59.

We have four...

A.J., this is scary. I want to go home.

Okay.

Just stay here, okay?

A.J.

Moose?

Brooke!

Holy shit!

Look at all these little fuckers, dude!

All right, back up. Make some lines.

Make some fucking lines. Goddamn.

Handle this shit, dude.

Give me a Butterfinger, dickhead.

Give me a Chick-O-Stick and suicide.

- Can I get a Kit Kat? - Give me some Sugar Babies.

- Got Fun Dip? - How many Freeze Pops for $1?

Yo, could I get a Twix, a hot dog and a Sprite, please?

I'll take a Butterfinger, a Kit Kat,

and a Diet Coke.

Can I have a hot dog?

Give me a hot dog, kid.

The fuck dogs, they cost more?

Seventy-five cents more.

- Cool. - Cool.

Heyo!

- Hey! What do you want, kid? - Can I get a fuck dog?

Fuck dog? Get the fuck out of here.

What's this goob talking about?

Just write "fuck" on it with ketchup.

Charge them 75 cents more.

That's fucking genius, dude. Yes, I can get you a fuck dog.

Our markup's already 80 percent, dude.

Fuck dogs! Get your fuck dogs right here!

Fuck dogs! Get your fuck dogs, fuckers!

♪ You burden me with your questions ♪

♪ You'd have me tell no lies ♪

♪ You're always asking what it's all about ♪

♪ But don't listen to my replies ♪

♪ You say to me I don't talk enough ♪

♪ But when I do I'm a fool ♪

♪ These times I've spent I've realized ♪

♪ I'm going to shoot through and leave you ♪

♪ The things you say ♪

♪ Your purple prose just give you away ♪

♪ The things you say ♪

♪ You're unbelievable ♪

♪ Oh! ♪

♪ Seemingly lastless, don't mean you can ask us ♪

♪ Pushing down the relative, bringing out your higher self ♪

♪ Everything you answer to, brace yourself ♪

♪ With the greatest of ease ♪

♪ I know this world ain't what it seems ♪

♪ Oh! You're unbelievable ♪

♪ Oh! ♪

Whoo!

♪ You're unbelievable ♪

♪ It's unbelievable ♪

♪ You're unbelievable ♪

- You think you're on Carson? - Take it or leave it.

I'm not eating this shit. Give me my money back.

No fucking way.

- Fuck off, Moose. - Suck my dick, Carmichael.

We got a "no asshole" policy. Check it.

Cute. Now give me back my buck.

Fuck you. Our Shack, our rules.

- Last fucking chance, prep. - Or what?

You gonna pull me through the window, Randy?

You fucking idiot.

Oh, fuck! Fuck! Moose!

Fucking fuck! Fuck!

Get the fuck off me, you fucking--

Fuck! My face! You scratched my fucking face, bitch!

All right, that's it.

- That's it. - Ah! Fuck!

You and Hercules are Gandhi. Rest of the fucking summer.

Fuck off! Just let go!

Hey, dick bag!

Oh!

Fucking nice one, Eagle.

Yo, Moose, grab me a rag.

All right, clean it, Carmichael.

Suck my nuts!

Clean it.

There you go.

That was fucking epic, dude.

Shane was right, man. Those guys are soft as fuck.

All right.

This'll cover supplies.

This is me. This is you.

Fucking A.

Look at all this scratch.

Fifteen hundos right there.

But we better find a way to hide some of this shit

if we want to fuck around this fall.

The Judge and Jean don't have any idea what we're pulling in.

- Do they? - Hell no.

They think this whole thing's a shit show.

Look, dude, I want to pitch you an idea.

You can't pass, dude. We're best friends.

- We go 50/50 on every deal. - Moose, no.

It's a big-time pass, I'm telling you.

- I'm saving up for Alaska. - Alaska?

What the fuck are you talking about?

Next summer. It's a five-week trek.

Shane and I got the entire thing mapped out.

You didn't clear that with me.

I don't need to clear that with you.

Look, dude, all I'm asking for is five minutes, okay?

Just hear what Willy has to say. This thing's a sure shot.

We could triple what we stick in...

Oh, shit--

That's what you get, you fucking preps.

Why?

- That's for the hot dog. - And this is for my Trans Am.

And here's a couple for your fucking friend.

I still say they're soft as fuck, dude.

What a couple of clits.

Moose, half your face is nothing but blood.

Yeah, I know.

But we could take them in a fair fight, dude.

I'm fucking serious.

They got lucky with that ambush.

Tucson Electric. You coming?

It's your scene.

I'll stew on it.

All right, well, don't show your parents the knot.

Yeah.

Hey, shit pig. You paint?

What? Curbs?

Curbs?

No, bitch. Toes.

You're not very good at this.

That's because I'm used to a Utilac spray.

Not this tiny little brush.

You okay?

You look a little wrecked.

Yeah, I'm all right.

So how come you've been flying under the radar these days?

Guess I've just been busy with work.

Busy, huh?

Mm-hmm.

Moose talk about me?

To me?

No. Not really.

I'm sure there are a few embellishments.

Moose is fun.

Pretty good kisser.

But he's not really my type.

You know?

Sometimes it sucks being a short-timer.

Soon as you make friends, it's taillights.

I just want to have fun this summer, you feel me?

Pass me that Minolta.

Now what?

Cotton balls, shit pig.

Who saved room for banana cream pie?

I call the big piece.

Chrissy made Dance Squad captain.

I have an announcement.

- An announcement? - Mm-hmm.

That's 3,100.

That's the 16 that I owe, plus another 15.

Give him the big piece.

Dad!

- Zip it, Chrissy. - Also...

This is for you and Mom.

What is it?

Mannheim Steamroller at the Orpheum.

Are you fricking kidding me?

Center aisle. The third row.

Oh!

Goddamn it. You're such a fucking puss.

I knew you were gonna show your parents that knot.

What a waste. So, what are we getting into tonight?

Huh? It's Friday night.

Let's get sloppy. Go walk Main.

No, I'm not really feeling it, dude.

Not feeling it? What are you, ragging?

No, I'm dog-assed tired, Moose. I just want to sleep.

Oh, come on. Don't be such a fucking pussy.

What? Now you're hanging up?

Hello? Carters. Hi, Mrs. C. It's Moose.

Jesus.

Ma'am? Yes, ma'am.

That there your husband downstairs...?

Oh, Jesus!

Hey, shit pig. You awake?

- What? - Nothing.

What are you doing?

What are you doing?

Yo, perverts! Get in.

Everyone's getting stupid at the Pioneer.

♪ Won't you please let me go ♪

♪ These words lie inside, they hurt me so ♪

♪ But I'm not the kind who likes to tell you ♪

♪ Just what I want to do ♪

♪ I'm not the kind that needs to tell you ♪

♪ Just what you want me to ♪

♪ I saw you this morning ♪

♪ I thought you might like to know ♪

♪ I received your message in full a few days ago ♪

♪ I understood every word that it said ♪

♪ And now that I've actually heard it ♪

♪ You're going to regret ♪ Just get the fuck inside.

♪ Do you find this happens all the time? ♪

♪ Crucial point one day becomes a crime ♪

I thought you were staying in, bitch.

♪ But I'm not the kind that likes to tell you ♪

♪ Just what I want to do ♪

♪ I'm not the kind that needs to tell you ♪

Dog-assed tired, huh?

Cops! Fucking run!

Oh, shit.[A.J.] Fuck!

Yo, Brooke, over here. This way. Come here.

Moose, let's go. Up here, come on, guys.

Come on.

Go, go, go, go, go!

Shit.

Guys, behind the screen. Behind the screen. Come here.

Oh, fuck.

I don't do tight spaces.

Shut up. We're about to get popped.

You don't understand. I can't fucking breathe.

Both of you, shut the fuck up.

Shh! Check it.

I can't fucking do this...

- Moose, shut up. - I'm gonna freak.

Stop fucking talking.[officer] Hey.

You don't think someone could hide back behind that shit?

Oh... oh, fuck.

Shh!

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

Here you go, kid.

What are you looking at?

Nothing.

What are you looking at?

Nothing.

This some kind of lover's spat?

- What do you want, dude? - Top me off with DC.

Hey, go heavy on the ice, okay? I'm fucking melting out here.

Here.

Give the deck a wet-down. It's almost safety check.

No, hey.

You're not my fucking boss, okay?

You do it.

Just get one of the goobs to spray her down, you idiot.

I don't care.

You going to, uh, the party tonight?

- What party? - Brooke's party.

It's like 15 yards from your front door, Eagle.

What is that shit?

Don't worry about it.

A jewelry box from Martin's?

Really?

Look, dude, I know you think you're tight with homegirl,

but she gave me a handjob behind that screen last night.

What?[Moose] Yeah.

- Dude, there's no fucking way. - Whatever, dude.

She totally jerked me off.

Fucking grade A too.

Honestly, I don't know how you didn't hear it, man.

You were right there.[Brooke] Yo, Moose.

Bring me a DP.

I got you.

One large Dr Pepper, please.

Yeah.

Lip thing.

Mister, you got a Nut Roll?

Fuck off, kid.

- For you. - Oh, my God!

What do you think?

I love it. - Are you kidding with this shit?

- My son is five. - Calm down, lady.

I'm not gonna calm down.

I demand to speak with your manager.

I am the manager.

- Bullshit. - You're bullshit.

Your fucking kid's bullshit too,

and you're both making me nauseous.

Mommy, can I lick the ketchup off the bun?

What the fuck?

Hey, hang tight, lady.

I'm gonna comp your boy's meal a hundred percent.

Hey, shit pig. You okay?

Yeah, I'm good.[Moose] It's three o'clock.

Where the fuck are you going?

Just giving you space

for all your fucking handjobs!

Get in.

How's that runza?

All right, I guess.

Want some rings?

No, I want Moose to quit rat-fucking me all the time.

When he's not busy shot calling, he's swooping on my lady friend.

You want a little advice, homey?

What?

Make a move.

Any move.

Brooke isn't into Moose.

She's just waiting for you to make a move, telling you.

You ever make a move?

Like on a lady friend?

Yeah.

Almost.

You gotta risk it for the biscuit, Eagle.

♪ It's been a long time since you left me ♪

♪ I didn't mean to make you cry ♪

♪ I didn't mean to disappoint you ♪

♪ I didn't mean to tell you lies ♪

♪ And after all that we have been through ♪

♪ Won't you let me tell you why ♪

♪ One more try ♪

♪ I didn't know how much I loved you ♪

♪ One more try ♪

♪ Let me put my arms around you ♪

♪ Living all these lonely nights without you ♪

♪ Oh, baby, can we give it one more try? ♪

♪ It's been a long time since I kissed you ♪

♪ It always used to feel so good ♪

♪ And if you knew how much I missed you ♪

♪ You'd forgive me if you could ♪

For the record, I didn't give Moose a handjob.

That was all in his head, shit pig.

I grabbed both your dicks because it was the only way

I could get you two pussies to shut up.

I wasn't gonna get an MIP for that shit.

♪ One more try ♪

♪ I didn't know how much I loved you ♪

♪ One more try ♪

♪ Let me put my arms around you ♪

♪ Living all these lonely nights without you ♪

♪ Oh, baby, can we give it one more try ♪

Moose!

♪ And after all that we have been through ♪

Moose!

Moose! Come on!

Come on, let's talk!

Moose! Come on, dude.

Come on.

Let's just fucking talk.

Get the fuck away from me.

I just got off the phone with Parks & Rec.

No one's manning the Snack Shack.

Are you going in?

I'm sick.

Well, what about Moose?

Hey.

Dude, what the fuck happened?

Take a wild guess.

Here.

You good with Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays?

- What, like shifts? - Yeah.

We'll divvy up Sundays. I'll get this one.

- You get the next. - Moose!

Fuck.

Can I get a jumbo Push Pop?

Yeah.

Hey, shit pig.

How come you pulled a Copperfield at the party?

I waited for you all night.

So you want to ditch this pop stand

and go grab a twist from Chompy Cone?

- My treat. - No, thanks.

Come on, no one says no to free ice cream.

Want to hear it again?

Wait, are you being serious right now?

It's feeling like a negatory on the biscuit front there, Eagle.

- Where are you going? - Waubonsie.

Gonna polish off this case, sleep under the stars.

I can't go to Iowa. I'm not supposed to cross state lines.

Gonna call your mom at the next truck stop,

tell her you're staying with Moose.

- What are you doing? - Not stopping till you say yes.

Come on, Shane. Slow down, dude. Oh, shit!

Fuck! All right! I'm in, I'm in!

- All right! There we go. - God!

You've been busting your ass all summer.

It's time to fucking unwind.

Heads up, Eagle.

Yo, what happened with you and Brooke?

You gonna spill or what?

She lied to me.

She lied to you?

Yeah.

I caught her red-handed.

Doesn't sound like homegirl.

She said that she waited for me all night at the party.

And then I caught her hanging on some fucking giant

out on the porch.

Flattop?

Yeah.

- Green Duster? - Exactly.

What?

Oh, dude.

The jarhead's her brother.

Fuck.

Fuck!

Oh, fucking A, Eagle.

Just let me explain.

- Come on. - No, thanks.

Brooke, come on. Look, I didn't realize.

I know I fucked up. Just please just listen--

No, thanks.

Want to hear it again?

Oh, can we get some of this, Mom?

Sure. Just one.

What's up, A-Jams?

Hey, Shan.

Stop.

Isn't she a sophomore?

Junior.

So how did you get to know her?

That's Donny's older sister.

Well, I would think that you would--

Oh, my God, Jeanie!

You scared the heck out of me.

Sherry! How are you doing?

Oh, my God. It's been forever, right?

It has.

I'm used to seeing that big turkey.

Oh! Your hair.

I know.

It was time for a change.

Oh, it's so full.

Almost like a Kay Orr thing.

- I love it. - Aw!

Thank you.

What's going on?

You guys get in a tiff at your sleepover the other night?

What sleepover?

- Really? - I don't know.

Happy early birthday, asshole.

Got you a little something-something.

You want to lunch it at Babe's?

How about a rain check?

I still gotta do the whole backyard.

How's the weather over there?

Cloudy with a chance of diaper shit.

Well, hang in there, Eagle Scout.

I'll swing by later.

See if you want to get stupid.

Word. Thanks, homey.

Peace offering, shit pig.

For your box stall.

- Wow. - I know.

It's probably the only portrait of myself

I can actually stomach.

So...

Is anyone up in this bitch?

Uh, no.

Sooey!

You ever make out to Combat Shock?

Right at that moment,

I knew what had to be done.

It was all coming back to me.

A revelation that hit me like a bullet.

Bullets. This chick was armed.

I felt a tremendous power surging through my veins.

Where's the gun?

I gotta tell you something.

So, no grass carping, okay?

Yeah. What?

My dad got his orders.

We're shipping out to Ramstein.

Ramstein?

Germany.

When?

Next week.

Next week? I...

You're grass carping.

I got a question.

Yeah?

Do you have a condom?

Oh, shit, that's the Judge.

Awkward.

Maybe he's just grabbing something.

Shh.

A.J.?Hey, Dad, don't come in here!

Oh. Um...

We need to talk.

Downstairs.

- See you, okay? - Yeah.

Nope, hold on. Come here. Both of you.

What's going on? Why are you being so weird?

Um...

I just got a call...

from Bill Workman about a half hour ago.

There was an accident out on 75.

Shane got killed.

What?

I just saw him.

I'm sorry, son.

Get in.

What the fuck?

What the fuck?

Hey.

Hey.

Thought you said that we were dry.

No, man, this is it.

Last two. I found a...

a sixer stashed with the Christmas shit.

Mm. Nativity set?

Yeah.

I did pound the other four, though.

That's fair.

Moose?

Are we cool?

Yeah, man.

We're cool.

Cool.

Fuck off, animals!

We're having a moment!

Fuck.

Oh, dude, I'm sorry I punched you in the nose.

Oh, I... I didn't even feel it.

Yeah, okay.

Hmm.

All right, are you ready?

Yeah.

Yeah, let's make some dough.

Wait.

There's no glass on deck.

So look, man, I want to pitch you a few ideas.

Yeah? What kind of ideas?

How we can double our return on this bitch next summer.

- Does it involve Real Beer? - Ooh!

Hundred percent.

Two fucking lines, goobs!

Give me two fucking lines!

- Right now! - My turn! My turn!

Hey.[Brooke] Hey.

Hey, what's going on? Are you leaving right now?

Yeah. Sorry. I drove by the pool but I couldn't find you.

What happened to Tuesday?

When the AF says jump, he jumps.

In two minutes, we're taillights.

Just gotta hit the head.

Roger, Wilco.

Two minutes?

Here.

Take it.

What is it?

Open it, dum-dum.

A hanky?

So you don't have to borrow your dad's.

One more thing.

I, um... I printed it last night.

We don't say "goodbye."

Just...

"see you later."

Let's move out.

Another keeper.

See ya, A.J.

See ya.

♪ There must be someone I can talk to about this ♪

♪ I never realized how much friendship could be missed ♪

♪ But it's all good now ♪

♪ 'Cause there's no one but we two ♪

♪ And I'm alone ♪

♪ But I'm alone in the city with you ♪

♪ Well, I'm alone in the city with you ♪

♪ Well, I'm alone in the city with you ♪

♪ With you ♪

♪ You look so strange without the makeup ♪

♪ Upon your face ♪

♪ It'd be so different ♪

♪ Another time and another place ♪

♪ Don't do nothing ♪

♪ That would make you look a fool ♪

♪ Well, I'm alone in the city with you ♪

♪ Well, I'm alone in the city with you ♪

♪ Well, I'm alone in the city with you ♪

♪ With you ♪

♪ And there are some times where I don't know where I am ♪

♪ And there are some things that I'll never ♪

♪ Never understand ♪

♪ Understand ♪

♪ Well, I'm alone in the city with you ♪

♪ Well, I'm alone in the city with you ♪

♪ Well, I'm alone in the city with you ♪

♪ Well, I'm alone in the city with you ♪

♪ With you ♪