- I've got the munchies.
- Oh, what can I say?
It's been an education.
But two victims, Quebecois.
One witness, dead, Quebecois.
One kiIIer - I'm guessing, wiId one now - Quebecois.
So, bye-bye. TeII Suzie I'II emaiI her.
- What's your deaI with Suzie? You've onIy seen her twice!
- You Quebecois are aII the same. You got some Iunatic
who's gone nuts over a hockey team that doesn't exist anymore.
And you with Suzie? ''Je me souviens.''
You're Iiving in the past. You got to get over it.
- Yeah, weII, at Ieast we're aIive,
not Iike you and your freakin' queen and her fucked-up chiIdren -
one of whom stoIe your wife, by the way.
- Did anyone caII a taxi for the airport?
- Your Iift is here. - I did.
- Can I take your suitcase? - No, thanks, I'II be right there.
- But you're right about one thing,
The onIy piece in this story that doesn't fit is you,
so bye-bye.
- Tune in to my pre-game show later tonight.
We're gonna talk about these rumours
that a major Canadian team is moving south,
which really pisses me off!
All of you know l hate Montreal! l hate the team!
But what's the point of hating Montreal if they're in Houston?
Also we have a big surprise guest for you: Mr. Pickleton.
You don't want to miss this, because l won't miss you!
- You seen anything Iike this?
I can't beIieve it. - You've got to be kidding.
- Recognize her?
- I think I recognize the Iunatic who did it.
- Martin! - Where you think you're going?
- Get your hands off me, asshoIe.
- Oh, say it isn't so.
- I'm a cop. - You can't pass.
- I know that guy over there. That's my friend, Martin!
Hey, it's me!
TeII these guys to Iet me through.
- Okay, you can go. - It's okay, he works for me.
Hey, hi, how are you?
HeIIo...
- He's from Quebec. - Ah.
- Did you miss me?
- Show him.
- Tabarnac.
WeII, you couId say he's a heII of a skater.
It's a Quebec hockey expression.
You know who she is, right?
- Martina FIabcheeks. Thanks.
- The first femaIe hockey agent.
Her first cIient was Quebec's 1st pick in '95,
but he never signed with them. Everyone thought it was his decision,
but it was his parents and her.
She wanted him to pIay in Toronto...
but he ended up in the States.
- WeII that makes perfect sense. Of course she deserves to die.
She wouIdn't Iet her cIient pIay in Quebec 10 years ago.
I suppose some peopIe stiII aren't over the PIains of Abraham.
IncidentaIIy, aren't you supposed to be speaking EngIish?
- Where's the tattoo?
- Right here.
- Hmm. Who's next?
The cIient?
- He's safe. He's under guard in a New York hospitaI.
When we phoned him to give him the bad news,
he feII to the ground, got a concussion.
- Again?
- HoId her skirt. - What?
- HoId up her skirt. You shouId be good at that.
Good.
(camera fIash)
Okay. So Brisset screwed Therrien, who pIayed for the FIeur de Lys,
so he gets a fIeur de Iys with two scaIes on either side.
Grossbut seIIs the team to CoIorado,
so he gets a mountain tattoo
with two eights repIacing the first two Os in CoIorado.
- 88: FIabcheeks's star pIayer's number.
He's been pIaying us from the beginning. The tattoo isn'tjust his signature.
It's a cIue to his next victim.
- And 88 goes to PhiIadeIphia.
- PhiIadeIphia...
With two missing Ietters.
L. A.
- L.A. Los AngeIes.
- The best pIayer in the worId.
- The Great One.
- Or the one who soId him.
(rousing theme music)
- Okay, this is the situation that I find myseIf in.
It's not bad enough that MontreaI is Ieading our team 3-2 in this series,
but right now I have a guest, Mr. PickIeton, who has not shown up.
And why? Because some Iunatic
is out there kiIIing members of the hockey community.
- PickIeton's in the buiIding. His Iimo's here. He must be on his way.
- Did you taIk to security? - If they see anything,
they'II caII me. - Shh! Shh!
- What about the cowards that want to aboIish fighting in hockey
and make hockey Iook Iike goIf.
I say we go after them! WhiIe we're at it,
why don't we aIIow Annika Soren-what's-her-not
and some of her chick goIfer friends to Iace up the skates
and go pIay for the MontreaI Patriotes
in time for the pIayoffs.
What's the big deaI?
They onIy make the pIayoffs once every 5 years.
What?
Can you beIieve this?
My director is now asking me to taIk about Iast night's game and to stretch,
because our no-show guest Mr. PickIeton,
a man who I have waited over a decade
to ask straight up why in God's name he wouId seII
the worId's greatest hockey pIayer out from under us,
apparentIy, he's in danger!
Boo-hoo!
And I've got two cops in the corner who won't teII me a thing
about this Iunatic. Can we see these cops?
Can we get a shot of them? Hi, guys. How you doin'?
So maybe you have something to say on the subject, so caII in
and taIk to me on the air and teII me what you think about...
The Tattoo KiIIer.
- What? - And cut!
90 seconds! Make-up!
- Mr. Berry, I'm sure you know yourjob--
- Don't teII me how to do my job.
- You can't taIk about the kiIIer on the air.
We don't want to provoke him. And branding him ''The Tattoo KiIIer,''
that's pubIicity, just what these guys want.
- I can taIk about whatever the heII I want to taIk about,
because I have a Iot of time I have to fiII.
Can someone pIease get this fruit away from me?
- Okay, thank you. Bye-bye.
Tom, you good? Coffee? Yes?
- No, I don't have a guest! How am I good?
- Can someone find him a guest, pIease?
Okay, peopIe, we're back in 5, 4, 3...
- WeIcome back.
We have two very speciaI guests in the studio
to taIk about... The Tattoo KiIIer!
With us from Ontario, Detective Martin Ward,
and from MontreaI, David Bouch...
Boucha...
BoucherviIIe, Bouchie...
One of these French names I aIways screw up.
Men, are you any cIoser to getting this jerk?
- WeII, Tom, I don't think we can say categoricaIIy that he is a jerk.
What we do know is that he works very fast.
And though we don't want to sound aIarmist,
we think it wouId be a good idea
if those peopIe in the hockey community were carefuI.
- CarefuI?
What does that mean?
- WeII, to respond to your question,
Tom, uh...
the best way to be prudent wouId be to change
your hapitudes.
- Your habitubes?
- Habits, Tom.
That's a good point, David.
The kiIIer seems to know the habits of aII his victims
and is using that knowIedge to capture them.
So it might be a good idea to change your routine.
- Yeah, what I'm wondering is,
why do we have a French cop
on our turf? I mean,
is this kiIIer not chaIIenging enough for you?
- Keep it up and you'II regret wearing those ugIy ties.
- Come again?
- He just said: ''What a sharp dresser you are!''
- No, I said go on with your stupid comments about me
and you'II regret those ties.
- You want a piece of me?
- Are you hitting on me?
- Tom, caIIer on Iine 1 !
- Okay, apparentIy we have a caIIer on the air
who has some very important information.
CaIIer, you're on the air. What's your name, pIease?
- Tattoo KiIIer.
- Ha-ha. Very funny, but we just don't have the time.
- You have a probIem with my quest, Tom?
You think you can do better?
You think I'm just a jerk?
- I don't think you're a jerk, I think you're a fIake or a fake.
- Shut the fuck up.
Mr. PickIeton is getting his tattoo now.
- Let me taIk to him.
UnfortunateIy, Detective Ward,
Mr. PickIeton can't come to the phone right now.
He was moving too much
and it was impossibIe to make a nice tattoo.
And by the way...
sorry about your car, David.
- Sir, we're going to hang up now. If you'd Iike to taIk to us,
we're going to give you a number that you can caII us at.
- Don't you fucking hang up on me!
I know your names and faces.
So don't worry, if I wanna taIk to you...
(Iaughing) ... beIieve me,
I'II find you.
- Hang up the phone. - I don't think so.
- You're either with me or against me. - Watch it, frog!
- You are trying to stop me in my heroic attempt
to save our nationaI sport.
When I get finished with aII the moneygrubbers and scumbags
who soId our game to Americans, who couIdn't care Iess...
- Stand back! - ... about the art of hockey,
I'II come after you
and those two cops and everyone eIse who gets in my way!
If you think I'm going to Iet my game
become Iess important than bowIing
because of a coupIe of rich--
(diaI tone) Fuck!
- Listen to me, you sick fuck. You want to taIk, caII me.
514-555-5594.
- Ah!
- PickIeton can't be too far from the Iimo.
- If he's stiII in the buiIding.
(phone ringing)
HeIIo? - David?
You want to taIk to me?
- Keep him taIking.
- Yeah. What wiII you do with him?
- Let's just say...
... I'm going to Ieave him on ice.
- On ice? - He's on Bouchard's ceIIphone.
Try and trace the caII.
I don't care! Just trace it! - Don't you speak French?
- When I feeI Iike it. And now I don't.
- I'm understand everything you've done, except for Benoît Brisset.
Why him?
- He's the one who Ioved CoIorado so much.
- How come you have such a strong accent in EngIish and French?
Who was your teacher? Jean Chrétien?
Funny. ReaI funny.
Time's up.
- Fuck.
(banging)
(muffIed yeIIing)
- It's the poIice! We'II get you out.
- It's unIocked.
(muffIed yeIIing)
Tattoo gear.
Easy, easy.
- You aII right?
- I'm fine, thanks.
- Who are you?
- I drive the Zamboni.
- Where is it?
- Down there. - Let's go.
- Take care of this, guys.
(crowd cheering in distance)
PoIice! Freeze! - Shit!
(rock music)
- Shit. Go, I got PickIeton!
Hey, come here! I need some heIp!
- Fuck!
- PoIice! Out of the way!
- Hey! Whoa!
- PoIice! Out of the way!
- You fucking Frenchies! You run Iike you drive!
- Out of the way!
Ah!
Ah...
- Excuse me! PoIice!
Excuse me. Excuse me.
You okay?
- Yeah, I'm okay.
- Easy, easy.
We know PickIeton soId 99 to L.A. And here we have the U.S. doIIar sign
and a big appIe which brings us to New York.
- You're sure it's New York?
- WeII, New York money for sure.
- I don't know.
There's nothing Canadian about it.
- CaII the New York FBI to warn them
a maniac might be headed their way.
- Maybe we shouId go down there.
- Why? You gonna burn down the Empire State BuiIding?
BIow up Times Square? - He's prejudiced,
isn't he? - What did he say?
- Just ignore him. What do you want us to do?
- Work with what you got.
As Iong as there's no body bags in my territory,
I don't give a shit.
- TaIk about a shitty week.
If he's going south, there's nothing we can do about it.
I'II probabIy Iose my job over this.
Lost my car...
The good news is, it can't get any worse.
- You're right.
Let's get out of here.
You want to come home for dinner?
- Why not.
- Don't do me any favours.
Can you hand me an endive, pIease?
Aha! Rosemary.
Endive. Endive, s'il vous pla¡t.
- This? - Yes, that's it.
- The guest room is ready.
- Thanks. WouId you set the tabIe, pIease?
- Do you have any beer?
- I don't, but I might have some cognac.
- Aunt Iris bought some yesterday. It's in the fridge.
- AII right, so where's this hunk who saved my big brother?
- Aunt Iris, this is David.
David, this is Aunt Iris. - Okay...
Um... just Iris is good.
- Enchantay, Just Iris.
- Enchantay to you!
- Ah!
It's nothing.
- Are you adopted?
- 'Cause you can see the difference?
- Want a beer? - Thank you, baby.
- Maybe Toronto isn't so bad after aII!
- I don't know what that means.
(whispering): It means he wants to have sex with you.
(chuckIing)
- Come on, it must've hurt.
- No. Itjust feIt, Iike, this big eIectric shock.
I was waiting to die.
But nothing. No pain.
Huh, Martin? Isn't it true?
If the buIIet goes right through,
it can take up to 10 minutes
before you start to feeI any pain.
- I usuaIIy try to soIve most of my cases without getting shot.
- What happened to the guy who shot you?
- I shot back. He was dead before he hit the ground.
But because of the bIeeding, I started to feeI, uh...
étourdi.
- Dizzy. - Dizzy, that's it.
So I'm, Iike, ''Okay, Iet's go outside,
get some fresh air and wait for the back-up.''
So I handcuff the dead guy,
head for the backyard. - That seems aImost cautious.
- What?
- Handcuffing the dead guy.
- Yeah, I know.
But the night before that, I saw ''FataI Attraction.''
- Oh, yeah. - You know?
She's in the bathtub, you think she's dead...
And then... argh! Yeah. So I didn't want to take any chances.
So I'm in the backyard,
Iight up a smoke,
try to get some air,
and tout à coup-- - AII of a sudden.
- AII of a sudden, the dead guy's dog jumps on me.
And, I mean, he's mad en tabarnac.
- That's reaIIy, reaIIy bad.
- Is he buIIshitting us?
- I don't know.
- It's true, swear to God. Look, I have a scar.
(Iaughing)
So I'm bIeeding Iike crazy,
I'm fighting the dog
with my, uh... mains nues.
- Bare hands. - Yeah, that's it.
- Why didn't you just shoot it?
- The dog was onIy doing its job.
- ExactIy.
So Iast thing I remember, I had the dog in a headIock.
- Oui. - And we both passed out.
A few minutes Iater, the back-up arrives,
they find the dead guy with handcuffs in the Iiving room
and me and the dog in the backyard,
endormi en cuillère.
- Spooning.
- Lucky dog.
(gIass tinkIing) - Jonathan?
(gun cocking)
- If you're such a hotshot cop,
show me where your gun is.
- Search me.
- Jonathan? (gasping)
(gunshots)
Argh!
(grunting)
(groaning)
- Dad!
- Argh! - Leave my dad aIone!
- Argh!
Tabarnac!
Sorry, kid. Argh!
(grunting)
- Teach me something eIse.
- Leo et Lea go to schooI.
- Leo... - Et Lea...
- Leo et Lea...
- You aII right? - Yeah. That was cooI.
- Thanks! That was great!
(panting)
- What eIse? - Long Iive a free Quebec!
- What's that mean?
- Oh, Jesus!
Bouchard!
- Vive le Québec libre! Oh, Iong Iive a free Quebec!
Long Iive a free Quebec! (moaning)
Oh, Quebec... uh, Quebec free... (moaning)
- What the fuck are you doing here?
- Iris, it's for you.
- Of course it's for me. It's my... Hey. Oh, God...
What are you guys doing here? - I saved Dad's Iife.
- From what?
Cardiac arrest watching curIing on TV?
- From Therrien. He's aIive, he was in my house.
- What the fuck are you taIking about?
- I kicked his ass. - He got away.
- You're sure it was him? - Yeah, I'm sure.
- Why wouId he try to kiII you?
- He was trying to kiII us!
He had no idea you'd be with my sister.
- So who was in the trunk of my car?
- I don't know, but the body's in MontreaI,
and Therrien is here.
(phone ringing)
- Last caII! Last--
Allô?
- Jeff? - Yes?
- It's Dave. Have you identified the body that bIew up in my car?
- I was just working on it,
Do you know how much overtime I'm doing because of you?
It's Iike a 5,000-piece puzzIe that you Iend to a cousin
and it came back haIf-empty, 'cause there's a piece in the sofa,
there's another one stuck to a sock in the dryer--
- Jeff, I don't have time for this.
- If it was a guy in your car,
then the operation was a compIete success.
- What are you taIking about?
- The guy was a girl. l didn't have a DNA match,
but Iate yesterday I got some dentaI records.
So I gave her a toothbrush and she's reaIIy happy now.
- Jeff, who is it?
- HoId on a sec.
Her name is ...
Rita Beaumont. Rita Beaumont.
Not a reaIIy interesting name, is it?
- Rita, the barmaid?
Thanks, Jeff.
- Hey, by the way,
you know that...
Rita speIIed backwards...
Uh, never mind.
- Thanks, Jeff. - No problem.
- That wouId've been heIpfuI to know.
- Fuck. She was trying to caII you, that's why.
Therrien must've known and gotten rid of her.
- No, no, no. Therrien was in the trunk of the car.
He wouId've had to have broken out of the trunk, stoIen a car,
driven back to the bar, grabbed the girI,
grabbed a bomb that he prepared for that purpose,
driven back to your car, put her in the trunk,
and then rigged the bomb?
The show wasn't that Iong.
- He's not aIone.
(phone ringing)
- Allô?
- Suzie?
- Oui. David?
Nice time to caII someone.
- How's everything at home?
- Fine.
You sound strange. Have you been drinking?
- No. No.
It's just... I don't know. I'm a IittIe IoneIy.
Can I taIk to GabrieIIe?
- David, she's sIeeping.
Like normaI peopIe do at this hour.
- I know... I...
I just need to hear her voice.
- What aren't you teIIing me?
- PIease, Suzie.
- What is it?
- Suzie!
- I'm going, I'm going.
I'm upstairs. She sIept in your room.
She misses you too, you know.
GabrieIIe...
GabrieIIe?
Gabrielle!
David, the door is open! She's gone!
She's not here!
I put her to bed earIier and now she's gone!
(phone ringing)
David!
David, answer me!
- HeIIo? - David?
- Who is this? - Oh, it's Detective Ward.
I have a caII for Mr. David Bouchard from his daughter.
ls he available?
- If you touch my baby, I'II kiII you, motherfucker!
- Your daughter is fine.
GabrieIIe, it's your father.
- Daddy, come get me, please! l'm scared!
- GabrieIIe!
- Daddy, heIp me!
- Shut up!
I have nothing against your daughter.
But you are really starting to piss me off!
- What do you want?
- l assume that a smart fellow like you
would know who's next on my list.
Stay out of my way.
Let me do my grand finaIe.
And after that you'll get your daughter back.
Safe and sound.
- My daughter has nothing to do with this.
Take me instead. - True.
And it wouIdn't be right for anything bad to happen to her.
Because of you.
(Iaughing)
(crying)
- Suzie...
(Suzie screaming)
- What is going to happen?
TeII me, teII me.
What have you done?
Don't touch me.
Get your hands off me!
I want my daughter! Do you understand?!
If he touches her...
If he does anything to her, I never want to see you again!
- I'm sorry.
(both crying)
I'm sorry.
- Bring back our daughter.
Bring back our daughter.
- Okay.
- Is she okay?
(car approaching)
- Salut. - Salut.
- Everything you asked for is in the car.
- Thanks.
- Can I do anything eIse?
- Stay with Suzie, okay?
- Hey, Mike. - Hey, Stef.
- We have to go.
Let me drive.
- Give me some privacy.
- Okay, boss.
- Hey, is this press conference going to happen or what?
Some of us have deadIines.
If you want us to write about this before next season starts...
- Sorry for the deIay, everyone. Mr. Buttman wiII be here any minute.
- You sure you want to do this? - Remember, it was my idea.
I just don't want to read about it in tomorrow's papers.
- Mr. Arbusto! - Hey, Buttman!
- So nice to taIk to you again.
- Everything coming together? - Sure is.
- I don't want you to misunderestimate
how gratefuI I am.
I'm sending you our agreement right now.
(fax beeping)
You're doing a wonderful thing for hockey.
'Cause l'm gonna make hockey as Texas
as a big, fat American steak.
None of that poison Canadian shit.
- You're going to enjoy having a top hockey team in your state.
(knocking) I'm busy here!
(knocking)
Just a sec.
(knocking)
You idiots!
Who the heII are you?
- Buttman?
- What's going on?
- What the hell's going on there?!
- Get in the bag. - Buttman?
- In the bag?
- In the bag.
- How does this work?
(muffed yeIIing)
- Have a Iook at this.
- Are you taIking to me?
Are you taIking to me?
Aha!
Are you taIking to me?
Me? That's good.
Goddamn it!
FUCK!
Are you taIking to me?
- Hip, hip, hip, hip! Go!
- Argh! Ah!
- Good.
What?
- Ah!
- Don't you know who I am?
I'm gonna sue your asses! You can't put me in the trunk of a car!
- Yes, I can.
It's a Quebec tradition.
(muffIed yeIIing)
- Okay, I'm in pIace.
- Shit!
Hey, hey, hey... - A photo with the chiIdren...
- Get away from me!
Take your kids away.
- How rude!
- Take care of your own kids.
- Excusez.
Testing... 1 , 2, 3... - What do you think you're doing?
- PoIice business.
Your attention, pIease.
Mr. Buttman wiII not be here.
He's had an unfortunate contretemps,
and therefore,
the press conference is canceIIed. (ceIIphone ringing)
If there's any more information
before tonight's final game, you'll get it.
We wiII keep you up to date.
- What's this deIay about?
Is he trying to make fooIs of French Canadians?
- Notjust the French. I don't think he much Iikes Canadians, period.
No further comment. They're aII yours.
- Ladies and gentIemen...
... we apoIogize for the deIay.
(phone diaIIing)
- How'd I do?
- Great. You're being foIIowed. Don't turn around.
- How many? - One.
The Patriotes mascot.
Lead him towards the garage, l'll follow you.
- Got it.
Okay.
- Ah, for fuck's sake!
FUCK!
Goddamn it!
(eIevator beII dinging)
(muffIed yeIIing)
(ceIIphone ringing)
- Bouchard.
- I toId you to stay away.
Do you want one Iast word with your daughter?
- Wait. I have Buttman.
If you want him, he's yours. AII I want is my daughter.
- You're pushing your luck, David.
- Yeah, yeah. Do we have a deaI?
- The Old Port. The tower at the end of the pier.
You have 15 minutes.
- You couId Iose yourjob over this.
- I don't give a shit.
(ship's horn bIaring)
(ceIIphone ringing)
- Yeah? - Bring him inside the boat.
- You're not done with me yet, asshoIe.
- Hey, weIcome home, Therrien.
You were born to be a mascot.
- Hey, stop stepping on my taiI for Christ's sake?
- Shut the fuck up!
- Where the fuck is my pIayer?
Stop right there.
Where's Buttman?
- Change in pIans: give me my daughter, you and your buddy can go free.
(muffIed yeIIing): Daddy! - Shhh...
You see, I'm a man of my word.
- Daddy, I don't Iike it here! - Daddy's here, sweetie.
- Don't cry, baby. It's aImost over.
- Oh, you're so cute.
So you think this is a fair trade?
That's not what we agreed on.
You shouId've brought something vaIuabIe to me.
- Fuck...
- Daddy, I don't Iike it, come get me!
- CIose your eyes, GabrieIIe!
- Come get me! I don't Iike this!
- CIose your eyes, GabrieIIe!
That's it, keep them cIosed untiI I teII you to open them.
- Throw me your gun.
Now!
- You're fuckin' crazy! - Oh, David...
he was a fucked-up Ioser I found on the Internet.
He wanted revenge
on those who screwed up his hockey career with the pros.
And me...
I just gave him the tooIs to do it.
Easy enough.
After that it was easy to get him to kiII the other fuckers!
They destroyed our ''Great Game.''
- It's just a game, kid.
- Give me your car keys.
I guess Detective Ward has my package?
I hope he's not too far.
- Martin!
Bring him!
- I'm coming!
(muffIed yeIIing)
He won't kiII you here.
He needs a crowd and you need a tattoo. Get moving.
- Too Iong! - Don't touch her.
- Dad!
- In four minutes...
it bIows!
- Martin, move!
- We're here!
We're here!
- Give him over. There's a bomb on GabrieIIe.
- WaIk over there.
WaIk over there!
Move!
(muffIed response)
- Okay, now you give me my daughter.
- Not untiI Detective Ward
drops his gun.
Not yet, David.
Not yet. Don't you push your Iuck!
Fuck!
- Daddy!
- Martin!
Okay, baby, open your eyes.
You can Iook at me.
- Take it off, Daddy!
I don't Iike this!
I'm scared. - I know.
(muffIed yeIIing)
- Move!
- Take it off. Do something!
- I need you to be stiII. You can't be moving Iike that.
- Do it!
- I need you...
- Do something. I'm scared!
- We're going to do this together, okay?
- Don't touch it.
It might be booby-trapped.
- Are you okay?
- Yeah.
Here and here.
It's a pretty simpIe device.
Bombmaking 101 .
- You know what you're taIking about?
- I was Bomb Squad before Jonathan was born.
We're gonna have to puII out these two wires simuItaneousIy.
You'II have to do it.
You need two hands.
- Daddy!
- It'II be okay.
- Orange and yeIIow.
- You sure?
- Three-- - Wait, wait...
Okay.
- Three,
two, one...
- I Iove you. - PuII.
- Move!
Okay. Okay. (muffIed): No, not again!
- Go get him.
- I can't.
- I'II take care of this.
- Go, Daddy.
Go and kick the shit out of him.
Thank you.
(gunshot) - Ah!
- Oh, shit!
- Oh...
- Ah!
(gunshot) (muffIed yeIIing)
- Ahhhhh! (gunshot)
- Argh!!!
- Ahhh!
- Daddy? (groaning)
- Wait! - My father!
- Take this.
CaII your mother, I'II heIp your father.
Stay here, okay? We'II be right back for you.
Stay here.
- Dave... Iook at the state you're in.
You shouId've taken care of your daughter.
And Iet me...
take care of Buttman.
- You taIk too much.
- No!
Don't!
Don't do it. It's not necessary.
- What? He tried to kiII us and our kids. He'II come back.
- AII good things come to those who wait.
- What are you taIking about?
You didn't...
You can reset those things?
- I prefer to think of it as recycIing.
- You sure it'II work?
- We'II soon see.
Man, can that guy run.
(beeping)
- You gotta be fucking kidding me.
- Wow. - Yeah.
(muffIed yeIIing): Come on! Get me out of here!
- Oh, shit, the penguin.
GabrieIIe?
- In concIusion, I wouId Iike to put an end to the rumours
that any one Canadian team or another wiII be moving to the U.S.
I know how important hockey is to you peopIe,
so I am spearheading a ruIe change to ensure
that no Canadian team wiII ever have to move from its home city!
(reporters cIamouring)
No more questions! Thank you. No more questions!
DVD SubtitIing: CNST, MontreaI