And so we have reached the final week of the season before the playoffs.
Somehow, Kevin and Jenny are already in, leaving two spots to
be decided by these last two games.
I thought the season was over.
In one game, we've got Pete and Taco.
I think we all know how that one's gonna end.
You can see into the future?
Victory all but certain.
And in the other game, we've got the league champion, the
people's champion, moi... Really?
...vs. Andre, otherwise known as the James...
...Bondres, a double-oh winner.
Andre, I am going to savage you this week.
I am going to take each one of your pre-existing holes and fill
- it with my seed... - I want to see, I want to see.
Oh, no, no, no, honey.
Daddy's doing adult talk.
...and then invite my infant son in to go potty inside of
you, like you're a rest stop bathroom.
Blimey.
No.
That's disgusting.
You guys hearing this?
Andre, I'm going to take my hand, stick it inside of you,
and then open it like a baseball mitt, and then...
So you know why you're here in HR.
I'm getting a raise?
You are not allowed to use company e-mail or software to
deliver your personal disgusting messages.
This was actually... just rehearsing my closing arguments
for an upcoming case.
Where in the court of law do you use the phrase-- let me get
this right-- "balls-deep"?
Well, if you must know, Mr.
Swale, we're representing a children's playground
consortium, and a number of children drowned in a ball pit.
We were wondering how deep is balls deep?
They were up to their mouth in balls.
Yes.
They were balls-deep.
Really?
Years from now, they're going to think that's poetry.
Because of that HR asshole, I have no computer access to
league activities.
So I'm using my old personal e-mail address.
- Herdsman@earthlink.net? - No.
Yahyah@yahoo.com?
If you must know... Mm-hmm?
It's "theruxster18@hotmail.com"
Yes!
I can't tell what's funnier:
is it that you chose "The Ruxster," or is it that you have
an actual Hotmail account?
The official e-mail of foreigners and poor people.
Ah!
Cheerio, there, mates!
It's your good old mate Andre.
How are you?
Wow.
Oh, my God... Did we just win the lottery?
You know, I just spent some time across the pond.
You were at a cap implant conference in London for three days.
Say what you will, but it works very good with the birds.
Danielle.
Wow, you really out-kicked your cover there.
Yeah, you're telling me.
We should get her body and show it at Lloyd's of London.
Hey, boys, let's not do that.
Hi!
Hi.
How are you?
Good to see you.
It's so good to see you.
This is Kevin.
Hi, how are you?
Hi. Danielle.
It's nice to meet you.
This is the Legend of Bagger Vance.
Ah, good day, my lady.
Oh, you must be Andre.
Mm.
Uh, this is The Ruxster18, he can be found at hotmail.com.
Wow.
When I fire up my Mac Classic, I will send you an e-mail.
Boop, boop, boop, boop.
Cheerio!
Totally weird.
And speaking of weird, I got a text from you that I need an
explanation for.
It said, "I cannot wait to kill you later."
That is terrible.
That is an auto-correct.
That's supposed to say, "I wanted to kiss you..."
Aw... No, no, don't, no... You guys!
A smooch before bed.
That is so cute.
And, actually, that would explain why you texted me asking
how I felt about "Alan Six."
Now that makes sense.
No, no, no, that... that was a joke.
I was kidding about that.
Wow!
Little early for the "Alan"
conversation, wouldn't you say?
You usually don't propose that till... a bottle of wine
and a warm bath.
And a little bit of Coldplay.
I don't think it's for me, but like I can get you a
beautiful strand of "Alan" beads for Christmas if you like.
Oh, don't start.
Ha!
Don't start.
Nicely done.
This place is great.
Who's the, uh, the little girl she's hanging out with, there?
Oh, it's Chloe.
Oh... Chloe.
BFF of the week.
Mm-hmm.
I spoke to her parents; we've arranged a sleepover for Friday.
Oh.
Uh-huh.
A Sleepover is a big move.
Yes, it is, it's a huge... Oh, my God.
Are those her parents?
I just spoke to them on the phone.
I know Chloe's father.
I prosecuted him a couple years ago.
I put him in jail for two years.
What?
Oh, God, he's coming over.
They're coming over!
Just... They're coming over here.
Just be cool.
Hey!
Hello.
This is Chloe.
Hello.
Sweetheart, do you want to go grab your shoes and your bag?
Okay, Mommy.
Why don't you go help Chloe with her shoes?
Okay.
Hi!
Hi. Jenny.
Gavin.
So nice to meet you.
So nice to meet you, too.
Hi, I'm Kevin.
It's also nice... Yeah, no, I know.
I know who you are.
You don't remember me?
Uh... Jamba Juice?
No.
You got me sent away for two years, on assault.
Oh.
How about that, huh?
Small world.
Supermall.
Gavin!
Yes.
Uh, but hey, don't worry about it, though.
Look, I did my time.
Okay.
I am a family man.
Beautiful family.
Likewise.
Thank you.
How did time go?
How was your... Please stop.
How did the time... Oh, it was, uh... kind of... rape-y.
Oh.
Yeah.
Were you the rape-er or the rape-ee?
Kevin... Did you get... No.
I was the rape-ee, actually.
Yeah.
That's horrible.
How were the pickup basketball games?
Because I've heard they're... Violent.
Well.
Ellie is super excited to have Chloe over for Friday night's
sleepover.
Oh, my God, yeah.
No, I'm so excited.
So great meeting you.
You, too.
Have a great night.
Great seeing you.
That was... That went poorly.
So, this sleepover's really happening, with this ex-con's kid.
He did his crime, he did his time, you did your job, there's
nothing wrong with that.
And that would be fine, if that was all of the information.
What'd you do?
All right, this is what happened:
We're in the courthouse, he's being processed.
I'm just hoping I don't get Judge Lambert, because she can be...
As he's being led away, I get a text message from Jenny.
It said, "A pen just exploded in my vag."
And then I realized she meant "bag," and it autocorrected.
So now Gavin looks at me, and the last image he sees before he
heads off to jail for two years... What's wrong with you?
...is me laughing.
Oh, no, no.
No, no.
This is bad.
That's like Cape Fear shit.
That's why you've just confirmed my decision to get this. Huh?
Jesus!
What the hell are you doing with...?
Don't twirl it.
Where did you get a gun?
I'm a District Attorney.
I've got a carrier's permit, if you must know.
So that you can "placcidentally" shoot yourself in your own house?
You don't even know what you're doing.
I know exactly... Oh!
Oh, shit, okay.
Is that a gun?
Toss it here!
Taco, this is not a joke.
That is awesome.
We need to get drunk and go to the firing range, AKA the field
next to the highway.
No!
No, you're doing it wrong.
You're doing it wrong.
Are you going to let him...?
It goes in this way... like this.
Okay? All right, all right.
And then you fire it.
What?! Whoa!
Jesus, man!
What? I assumed it wasn't loaded.
Okay, I'm just going to take this we're going to put it down.
By the way, where's the vuvuzela I kept in the attic?
We through it away.
The thing was getting disgusting.
What?
That was my guest bong.
Wait. What is a guest bong?
Were you raised by wolves?
A guest bong is a bong you leave at someone else's house, so
while you're visiting them, you can sneak away and get high.
You basically leave little bongs at all your friend's houses around the city?
Yes. For instance, the guest bong at your place is the pepper shaker.
That's good.
I never use that.
How am I supposed to get high while I'm here?
How about just coming over and spending some time with your family sober?
You expect me to sit through your mind-numbing dinner anecdotes sober?
Or babysit your little rug rat who's got a second grade reading level?
That's because she's in the second grade.
Dear Andre, I'm going to go so balls deep in your team this
week that you're going to be able to see my sack inside of your stomach.
Oh, gross.
No amount of vaginal rejuvenation will fix your team's vagina, Andre.
No, physician vaginally rejuvenate thyself.
Come on, Andre, no response?
He's just getting savaged by Ruxin.
Who's Andrea Clotkin?
I don't know.
Aw!
Who are you people?
Why you sending me these disgusting messages?
Hey, Andre, when Ruxin's done with you, it's going to look like this.
Aw!
Ow, oh, God!
Aw!
Oh, God, Taco, get out of our attic.
I like it here.
There's Internet and heat.
What did you do?
That is my housekeeper.
Look, it's not my fault.
Hotmail auto-corrected Andre for Andrea.
Why do you have his housekeeper's e-mail?
Because he wanted me to use her, and I'm not going to let
her in my house and let him snoop around.
Right, collusion.
Be that as it may, what we need to do here is start a brand-new chain, okay?
No more replying all.
That's it.
Okay.
Hey, guys.
Where are you moving to?
Not moving.
You guys were cleaning, so I got in the cleaning spirit.
And?
Going to put it in the attic.
No.
We just cleaned out our attic.
Exactly, so now there's room for my shit.
No!
Taco... Taco, mind yourself on the apples and pears.
What is that?
Cocey rhyming slang.
Apples and pears-- stairs.
Are you trying to find new ways for us to make fun of you?
There is something to the idea that I could use this as
code language so I could send stuff from my work e-mail.
Like how would you say shit sipper?
You're a real old Jack Tripper.
How would you say I'm going to rip your shitty team of
jackoffs from poo hole to goo hole?
Actually that already rhymes.
And why would you even say that?
Why can't you just beat me?
Who do you have to get inside of me?
Why do you have to get inside my poo hole, okay?
Next time you want to stick something in me, text me.
But what if we want to say we want to cram it down your throat?
Then D.M. me.
G'day.
Are you going to back to your old job as a caretaker to Downtrodden Estate?
Luck you.
Why is Andre talking about his poo hole?
Jesus, Cheech and Chong.
What...?
Did you just get high?
I'll give you a hint-- yes.
Guess we found a new guest bong?
No, it's a guest pipe.
Are you baked all the time?
Oh, not this baked.
I just wish I could walk around in a cloud of it all day long.
To the cloud-- like Microsoft.
All right, you realize that that's just a cloud of data
pushing itself wirelessly through different devices?
Now who sounds baked?
I like being around your friends.
Oh, wow. Well, that makes one of us.
I really like them.
I think they're awesome.
Well, that is good, because you got rave reviews.
Thank you.
I'm going to put my computer away and not be rude, so we can have our date...
No, no, no, no, no, no.
What is that?
Um, this is my fantasy football team and I was in the
process of setting my lineup.
Okay, well let's-let's set your lineup.
What?
Yeah, let's set your lineup.
Let's do this.
Like, I normally do this by myself.
Well, when you were a single person, there were a lot of
things you had to do by yourself.
But not that I'm here, we can do them together, and I'm guessing
that's an improvement.
All right, in all fairness, I am playing Taco this week, so just...
Okay, great.
Whoa! You just grabbed the comput... Okay, hold on. Not... Oh, quiet.
This is like fifth base for me.
This is like the equivalent of male Allen.
What, Michael Vick?
Is OJ Simpson on your lineup as well?
He's retired.
Michael Vick has done his time.
No, no, no.
We're not playing Michael Vick.
He may have worked on your team, but he is not on our team.
Okay.
Okay?
All right, what other QB's do you have?
You must have another one.
Uh... Roethlis... His name is Ben Roethlisberger.
Ben Roethlisberger.
Has he ever done anything wrong?
Never.
Perfect.
He is a good man.
Welcome to the lineup, Ben Roethlisberger.
Take a look-- submit.
Our lineup has been set!
That's huge.
Wow. I literally feel like I've just been deflowered.
Well, you'll cry the first time, but every time after that,
it'll be a little less painful.
Come here.
All right, all right, all right.
Andrea, please don't quit.
It was disgusting.
I know.
Don't judge me on the basis of my friends.
I'll do anything.
I swear this will stop.
Come on, luv.
You work less hours, you get more pay.
You've really got me over this Christmas carol.
Christmas carol?
You like Dickens?
Oh, no, it was the Cockney rhyming slang.
Barrel-- Christmas carol... You know, I am going to be in
community theater production.
I play Mrs. Cratchit.
Great.
You come Monday night?
Uh, this Monday?
Mm-hmm.
This Monday is rough because... I would love to come.
I would love to come see you in your community theater
production of A Christmas Carol.
I love it.
Okay.
And I'm going to bring a friend.
Gets through and... Come on!
Yes!
My players are killing it.
Lawrence Fitzgerald... Larry.
...Raymond Rice... Ray.
...and Came Newtown.
It's Cam Newton.
You can't even pronounce... Oh, your kid...
Brandon Jacobs give you a touchdown.
Are you kidding me?
To the cloud.
Well, at least we have next week. Always, always.
No, there's really not a next week for my team.
That's not true.
There's the Sacko.
Face it, mate.
You're a ripe old boozer.
What?
Loser-- boozer.
All right, easy Jason Statham.
Call me The Transporter.
Or call him Transgender.
I'd like to offer my services to all of you.
If anyone has a load that needs to be transported, I'm your man.
Well, how many loads can you transport at one time?
As many as humanly possible.
You take the whole load all at once?
That's right-- I take the load, hold it inside me and
don't let it out.
Wow, like big loads?
I love big loads.
Wow.
You take a lady's load?
I'll take a lady's load, but I prefer a man's load.
Yeah.
Come on!
How we doing?
We're not doing great.
How's um-- Roethlisberger?
Not doing as well as Michael Vick did earlier today.
I have to be honest.
Well, at least you have both of them.
Yeah.
Right?
Yeah, it's great.
Everyone's having so much fun.
Mm-hmm.
Because I'm in the playoffs and I think that...
Wait, are you in the playoffs?
I think I just said I was in the playoffs.
I'm in the playoffs!
You're in the playoffs, too?
Wait a minute, did you guys just figure this out right now?
No, this is called shit talking, and you will catch on
very quickly.
Okay.
Uh, and then the Monday night game will decide which one of
these morons is gonna lose to me in the playoffs.
Look, there's still some time, all right?
It's not over yet.
Oh, no, no, no, no.
You are losing, my friend.
I'll get you a beer.
How about that?
That sounds great.
I'll take a... I know.
No, no, no.
I got it.
Okay, you pick.
Anyone else?
I'll be right back.
Thank you.
Watch.
She's going to pick me some, like, skunked-out Milwaukee's
Best Light, and leave the Stella Artois on my bench.
This is your own fault, if you let your girlfriend choose
your lineup.
That is like the male version of Alan.
I'm sorry, pot calling the kettle black, here?
She is not a girl, Pete.
Oh, thanks, babe.
I love you.
I love you, too.
I shouldn't have to pay this much.
The punishment doesn't fit the crime.
You know, Pete, I like her.
I think she's a keeper.
Like the keeper that Michael Vic ran in for his third
touchdown of the day, while he was on my bench?
I want you out in front of your flat at 6:00 p.m. sharp.
I don't want to see amateur theater; it's just a bunch of
fat girls dealing with their complicated issues with dudes
who are still in the closet.
Let me tell you something, mate, you got to make things
right between me and my lady.
She's the best chambermaid I ever had.
Either come to this play with me, or I bombard your work
e-mail with pictures of Alan.
All kinds of Alan.
Alan reconstruction.
What about photos of Alan Rickman?
Here you go, sweetie.
Oh, thank you so much.
Appreciate that.
Do you like it?
It's awesome.
Thank you so much.
You're welcome.
Appreciate it.
I appreciate you.
Okay, thanks.
Okay, who is ready for ice cream?
Me!
Yeah!
It's going to be the best sleepover ever!
You guys ready to go?
Mm-hmm.
Um... I left my fuzzy at home.
Oh.
What's your fuzzy?
Yeah, it's my blanket I need to sleep.
Chloe, no worries, we will call your parents and just have
them bring it over.
Okay.
Yeah?
Oh!
I forgot my Faces of Death DVD.
Can you have them stop by my apartment and pick it up?
No, Taco.
Movie night's cancelled, girls.
Doesn't matter, 'cause it's a girls' night!
Yes!
Let's go.
If you don't finish your ice cream, bring it back!
No!
No.
Aw... I'll drink to Mr. Scrooge for your sake, and for this day.
I can't believe I'm here watching this instead of Monday Night Football.
Oh, yeah.
'Cause I really want to be here, watching a shitty production of
A Christmas Carol, instead of watching the game that dictates
whether or not I go back to the Sacko or get into the playoffs.
Long life to him!
And a Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year.
If I win tonight, the year of the Sacko is over.
Ghost of Sacko Past, Ghost of Sacko Future.
How much time is left?
You're not going to do it.
All I needed was ten points, and I'm getting eight points.
No, no, I lost.
James Bondraiser in the playoffs, baby.
License to win.
Hallelujah.
Bless us all, everyone!
Oh, God damn you.
God damn you, no-talent, ass-eating, shit-sipping hacks!
Excuse me?
That is my son!
Rodney?
Swale?
See you Wednesday?
What do you think?
This was supposed to be a Christmas joy for everyone, but
instead, you killed Christmas.
No, your son's acting killed Christmas.
Jenny?
Oh.
House to myself.
No, I'm-I'm getting here right now.
I just am pulling up.
Okay, so you're sure?
Jenny said just bring the fuzzy in?
Door's open.
Okay.
Okay, I love you.
Okay, bye.
You guys are probably texting from inside.
Coming in with Chloe's fuzzy.
"Coming in with chloroform"?
What?
Oh, okay.
Hello.
Hello... Where is everybody?
Got a little something here.
Anybody home?
Hello?
Hey, asshole!
I have a gun, and I'm going to murder you.
Where's my gun?
Oh, yeah.
Do the clown!
Take all week and rub my belly...
911, what's your emergency?
Hello, yes, this is Kevin McArthur, and there's someone in
my house who's here to murder me.
Describe to me what's happening.
I am in my panic room.
Panic room?
Well, it really isn't a panic room, because it's more of a
space under the stairs.
Please send out dispatch right away!
Is he an intruder?
A few years ago, I put a man away in jail.
And while he was being processed, I was in the courtroom and I received a text
message from my wife, who said a pen exploded in her vag, but
she really meant bag.
Is your wife injured, sir?
No, it didn't explode in her vag.
Nothing explodes in your vag.
It was her bag, she meant bag, it was an auto-correct mistake.
Sir, I need to put you on hold.
911, what's your emergency?
Hi, I am about to be murdered.
Where are you located, sir?
I'm at the home of Kevin McArthur.
Kevin McArthur, you said.
Yes.
I am hiding out in his bathroom, and he is outside there with a gun.
Sir, have you had a relationship with this man previously?
Our daughters are in gymnastics together.
She is a little psychopath.
Daughter's a pig, father's a pig.
I'm going to put you on hold, sir.
Mr. McArthur, there is a gentleman on the other line who
says you are trying to kill him.
No, no, no!
This is me, nobody else, me, murdered, dead, inside my house,
panic room, bag, vag.
Okay, sir, you have officially abused the 911 system.
I am going to disconnect you.
Please, you've got to help me! Don't hang up on me, please!
Hello?
Aha!
Well, hello there.
Want some?
I am going to run and die!
Take it!
I have a family.
Well, then, take it!
No, you got to listen to me.
This is... Oh, God!
I took care of him.
Oh, you're crazy.
Your wife is stuck-up, and your daughter's terrible at gymnastics!
Shut up and take it!
No!
Oh, God, no, please!
Open your mouth like this.
Ah!
Don't shoot me!
Come back!
Do the clown!
You're going back to jail, asshole!
Aw, Taco!
That was fun.
You want a hit?
Oh.
Yeah...