Dad, please don't do this.
You can get a legal job for fuck's sakes.
You just have to apply for some.
Hortons is always looking for people.
Yeah, for ten bucks an hour to sell coffee to dummies. Fuck that.
That goes against one of my life rules. I don't work.
The situation's bad. We're broke.
But you could go to jail again. What is wrong with you idiots?
Sweetheart, listen to me.
We have no power. Julian's power is shut off now, too.
Dope plants need grow lights, or they die.
How'll poor Mo feel if he can't help Grampy grow his dope?
-Mo's been helping you? He's four, Rick. -Yeah.
He loves mixing up the different fertilizers and feeding them,
spraying the poison to kill the bugs.
Following right in Grampy's footsteps, aren't you, Mo-Mo?
Hell yeah!
That's right. He's really good at it.
I love you, Trin. And don't worry.
Julian has it figured out. Nothing can go wrong.
See you soon, buddy.
Bye-bye, Grampy!
Come on. Let's make some fucking money.
Make Mo proud of me.
Oh, boys! Oh, baby!
Look out! Trying to keep it together!
-Bubs, Bubs! -Can't. Shaking!
-Can't breathe. -Breathe, breathe!
Okay. There you go.
-Okay. -What is it?
The great one...
Wayne fuckin' Gretzky...
coming to Halifax! Today! Oh, I'm losing it again!
Seriously? That's fucking crazy.
I know it's fucking crazy, Ricky!
Oh, my Gosh.
A bunch of NHL superstars are flying in for a celebrity sports banquet.
Wayne's one of them, boys!
-Wayne fucking Gretzky! -You got tickets for this?
No, I don't have fucking tickets. They're $300 each.
But you know Ronnie, that works the luggage down at the airport?
Says they're coming in this afternoon.
Let's do this. Who's driving? Get the fuck in the car.
Not one of us. We gotta work today.
Sorry. Can't you go by yourself?
It's one of the biggest moments of my life
and I thought my two best friends might share it with me.
And who's gonna hold my hyperventilation bag
if I pass out and shit myself?
Bubs, why'd you bring your gear bag?
I got an extra set in case Wayne wants to get suited up for a picture.
-He's not going to want to do that. -He might.
Just got to get the perfect spot to head him off.
Stalker styles.
Don't have to worry about that shit. There he fucking is.
Oh my fuck!
Sid, Nate, and Wayne.
The triumpharant of hockey cool.
Over here, you dicks!
Look at him. Oh my fuck!
What do I do, boys? What do I say?
I'm freaking out!
Oh, baby. Bag! Let's go! Bag!
Be cool, Bubs.
Yeah, they're just fucking humans like us, man.
Oh, yeah. Just humans like you and me,
except they literally shit NHL records.
Oh, look at Wayne, boys.
Look at the grace.
Great one, incoming.
-Oh, what the fuck? -You gotta be fucking kidding me.
The Moncton Mudslide!
Fucking dicks!
I hate those fucking guys.
They've played those dicks from Moncton Marsh Trailer Park
for last ten years in the Weed Cup Championship
and they lost every single fucking time.
That's because they cheat.
Fucking assholes bringing junior B hockey players,
they don't live in Moncton.
A while back we supplied this crazy cool trophy for the game,
and those Ski-Doo-driving log fuckers cheated and fucking won.
And we've never won the fucking thing back.
Dirty cock suckers!
I can't believe they brought the Stanley Bong!
I know. Look at that fucking thing.
It was a true works of the art, buddy.
I built the Stanley Bong for us, 20 years ago.
It has a piece of all of our lives incorporated into the design.
I used the steering wheel from Ricky's dad's old 18-wheeler wreck
that he almost fucking died in.
And used the milk jug that Julian's dad used as a liquor still.
On the top, beautiful kitty milk bowl my grandmother used to own.
God bless her, she's a deady now.
Don't mean to brag, but I think it might be nicer than the real Stanley Cup.
Then, of course, Ricky had to jam four chambers into the fucking thing
and turn it into a bong.
But my fuck, does four chambers ever get you baked.
It's making my lungs water just looking at it.
I've never been higher than when I smoked from that trophy.
Fucking Moncton Mudslide.
There isn't a mountain near Moncton.
How the fuck is there gonna be a mudslide?
No way! Look who it is, boys.
Hey guys, check out these losers. Rocking the full gear, are ya, goggles?
Better fuck off with that goggle stuff, diarrhea shit face!
We beat those losers every year in a hockey tournament.
Right on. That's great, guys.
They suck so bad, they don't play anymore.
Well, that's too bad.
I think hockey should be about fun and sportsmanship.
Miss this thing, Ricky dicky?
You want to come take a sucking off it?
You cheating cock twisters go fuck your mothers and sisters
and fathers right in the fucking ass!
Jesus.
You guys ever going to play in the Weed Cup again?
Oh yeah, no point,
because you fucking suck.
Actually, load-breath, our team is better than ever.
We'd destroy you fucks.
We don't play in the Weed Cup, it's lame
it'd be too fucking easy for us to win.
Right. Nice try, fatty.
Suck my fucking cock, Neil!
You want to fucking play? Let's fucking play!
Come on, you toothless whore bag!
Oh, I don't think so, bud.
Fucker!
Fuckin' back your paws off me!
Wayne! Holy fuck, can I get a picture, please?
Please!
-Dicks! -God fucking damn you, Ricky!
I didn't get to meet my hero. Thanks a lot!
It wasn't my fucking fault. Can't blame me for that shit.
I can blame you!
This isn't over, cock-snackers.
We'll get that trophy one way or the other.
Play us for it, lard-ass.
We'll embarrass the shit outa you.
Oh yeah? You think so, pussies?
Us against you. One game.
Winner gets the trophy.
We'll hold you cock-squeezers to this.
When they ice the rink in the fall, you're going down!
No. This can't fucking wait until fall.
Bubbles can build an outdoor rink, easy.
What? Ricky, it's the summer.
Can you do it or not? Don't make me look like a dick, Bubs.
Jesus, Ricky! Technically, if I had...
a couple of industrial refrigeration units
-and maybe tapped into a fire hydrant-- -Perfect! That's all I need to know.
Sunnyvale Trailer Park, tomorrow, two o'clock.
Tomorrow? No, impossible! You're fucking insane.
It's fucking on, you fat bitch.
I said that to your mother as I put my cock in her ear!
Jesus, Ricky!
Oh, it was really nice to meet you today, Bubbles.
Oh fuck, it was nice meeting you too, Wayne.
What a thrill. Thanks for the picture.
Oh, wait, I didn't get a fucking picture because my friends are fucked!
Hey, buddy. How are you doing, man?
I've been fucking better.
Goddamn Ricky.
It's times like this I question my friendship with that raging lunatic.
I know, man. I hear you.
He loves you, though. You know that, right?
Yeah, well...
He's got a fucked up way of showing it, Julian.
I know you want some space,
but we don't have a lot of time to pull this together.
So we're actually fucking doing this.
Well, everyone's out getting everything you need.
You did say you could build a hockey rink.
-Well-- -If you can't, that's fine, but,
It sucks that your cats will never drink out of granny's dish again.
I mean, you know, but I get it.
Julian, keep my kitties out of your reverse psychology bullshit.
-I'm not falling for it. -Julian,
we need to talk right the frig now.
Lot fees. You and Ricky both, or you're gone.
What the fuck are you saying, Randy?
I'm sick of you guys taking advantage of me.
And Barb's been riding me friggin' hard.
Lot fees today or you're kicked out of the friggin' park.
-I'm friggin' serious. -Randy, calm the fuck down.
We're broke, okay?
I'll get it to you tomorrow.
We've got this ice hockey game on today.
There's going to be tons of people. Tons of people means tons of money.
You know what? This could be a real good opportunity
for you to impress Barb for once.
-How? -Think about it, man.
I'll let you sell cheeseburgers. That puts cash in your pocket.
I make cash to pay the lot fees, and you'll impress Barb
as you took charge and solved everyone's problems.
You're the big hero.
I mean, who's really in charge of this park?
Barb or you?
I guess I am, technically. But we better make some friggin' money.
When do I ever do something that doesn't make money, Randy?
Julian, if we do manage to build this fucking rink in the middle of summer,
how in the name of Jesus's holy nut sack
do you figure we're gonna fucking beat those guys?
Ricky's gonna talk to Darren at the rink.
His cousin played fucking Junior A.
If he plays for us, man, were laughing.
Julian seems to think it's just a walk in the park to build a goddamn rink
in the middle of summer.
Thankfully we were able to get some nice lumber from Reggie
'cause he'll take weed for anything.
And Cory and Jacob, I must say,
they did get some nice refrigeration units.
But I don't wanna know where they got them.
There's bullet holes in them.
Ricky, check it out. We're gonna to put the water to it soon.
Right on, boys. Looking good.
Yeah, she's coming along, Ricky.
How'd it go with Darren's cousin? Is he playing?
No, he's not. Fucking asshole wouldn't play for weed.
What a fucking loser.
So we're fucked, then.
No, we're good, actually.
Oh my fuck! Nathan MacKinnon!
-What have you done? -What do you mean?
What's your problem? You play with a pro superstar
and we get our bong back.
-You guys should be high-fiving me. -Oh my fuck, Ricky!
This is insane.
Look, if you were gonna risk jail over it...
-Why didn't you just grab Wayne? -I fucking tried to get him,
but he did a crazy spin in the lobby, deeked me out.
Fuck, you shoulda saw him. Incredible.
Decent. So he's still got the moves.
Oh my God. I'm sorry about this, Nathan.
Look, my friend's not quite right in the head.
We're supposed to play a hockey game to win back
a trophy I built years ago, and we don't have a chance,
so I think Ricky was maybe thinking--
-Are you guys going to kill me? -Kill you?
Oh my God, no! Jesus Murphy.
We're huge fans of yours,
and we've never killed anyone.
I swear to fuck, we have not killed anyone.
-What the fuck are you doing? -We're letting him go.
-What? -Oh, thank God.
So we're going to play against Moncton and lose again.
-I guess so. -Oh my fuck. Fine!
My one chance to win for the first time in my life,
you just throw it away? Thanks, Julian.
I'll never know what it's like to win something.
You've never won anything before?
No, I haven't, fuck-brains.
-Nothing ever? -Nothing.
-A participation trophy? -Nope.
-A gold star sticker in school? -Not once.
-A tug-of-war? -Nope.
-A scratch ticket. -No!
-Roll up the Rim to Win? -Nothing.
-A coin toss? -Not once.
You call it.
Let's try for heads. What the fuck?
Told ya.
Let's go for the fucking tails.
It's not gonna happen, bud.
Wow, you've gotta be one of the only human beings on the planet
-who's never won anything. -That's nice. Yeah.
So what's your fucking point, ass-face?
That's one of the saddest things I've heard.
It is sad. It's very sad.
You know what, guys? I'm gonna help you win that game.
Everyone needs to feel like a winner once in their life.
Are you serious? Holy fuck!
I'm gonna play in a hockey game with Nathan fuckin' MacKinnon!
Fuckin' awesome!
Anybody hungry?
THE CASK STEAKHOUSE
Hey, Nathan.
-Call me Nate. -Hey, Nate,
so when you were on the plane,
did Wayne recline his seat or did he just sit upright the whole way?
I don't really remember.
Slightly reclined, maybe?
Decent.
Did Wayne watch a movie or is he a book fella?
Or did he sleep?
I'm not sure, Bubs. I was napping.
Does Wayne open his air vent on the plane or is he already cool enough?
Holy fuck, Bubs, man. Enough with Gretzky questions.
I'm just making conversation with my teammate, Julian.
Back the fuck off!
Oh, my fuck. 41 fucking ribs. I didn't know a pig had that many ribs.
Didn't come from one pig, Ricky.
And those are beef ribs, anyway.
-Yeah, I know. -That's it, I'm done.
I can't believe I ate two whole chickens.
-Yeah, that was great food. -Hear that, boys?
Nathan MacKinnon loved the food we got him.
Think Gretzky woulda liked it?
Bubs! You sound like a fucking idiot, man.
I can't help it, Julian!
I'm sitting here with somebody that knows Wayne Gretzky.
There's only two people I ever wanted to meet:
Wayne Gretzky... and Luke Skywalker.
No way. I'm a huge Star Wars fan, too.
Decent.
Can I interest anyone in dessert?
Not unless you got an extra stomach you can lend me.
I'm as stuffed as a ten-holed aisle in a cock factory.
Ricky, for God's sakes, have some couth.
I can't, I'm stuffed.
I think we're fine.
That's definitely a rich and fancy type bill.
-There you go, bud. -What?
-I don't have my wallet, guys. -What the fuck are you saying?
I didn't have time to grab it when you kidnapped me.
That makes sense.
Honestly, I thought you guys were taking care of it,
since seeing how I'm doing you a favor.
That's what you thought? Okay.
We can take care of it, then.
No problem. Ready, boys?
-Ready for what? -Bolt!
Cash or credit, sir?
I don't have either, actually.
There seems to be some kind of a mix-up, officer.
-I'm actually Nathan-- -I know who you are, kid.
I was the London Knights fan club president back in 2013
when you and the Halifax Mooseheads beat us to win the cup.
Seven goals, six assists in four games?
We supposed to win that year, you rotten son of a bitch.
I was just playing hockey.
Just get in the fucking car.
Just get in the fucking car!
All right, perfect.
The rink is done!
Nice work, buddy. It looks fucking amazing.
The ice is good, dude.
-It's solid. -And slidy too!
Yeah, two essential components of ice.
Gettin' really good with the adjectives, boys!
Oh man, the fucking rink looks great, boys.
Here, put these up on the boards.
What? What are they?
Sponsors. I sold ad space.
Ad space?
Julian, you need to get focused on what's important here.
I am focused on what's important. Making money.
I knew Nathan MacKinnon was a famous hockey player,
but I had no idea how much of a fucking goldmine he is.
Soon as I handed out flyers saying he was playing here,
people couldn't fucking wait to spend money.
I'm selling VIP sky boxes.
I've got autographed pictures of him to sell.
I've got booze and food on the go, 60% cut off of that.
I've got a weed booth.
I even got a VIP club booth where you can, well...
Like a kissing booth but instead of getting things kissed,
you may get things licked or sucked.
It'll be a big hit with the hockey fans.
It's time to get down to business.
Get them jaws loose. Time to get them working.
Show them where the chickens go to shit!
Where in the fuck is MacKinnon?
I thought you were looking after that.
-You said you'd take care of everything. -I thought you were.
You're the one with a hard on since he agreed to play.
Ricky, I was building a fucking rink, in case you didn't notice.
What? You got to be fucking kidding me.
MacKinnon's in jail.
-Shut the fuck up. -Jail?!
Holy fuck!
Oh, yeah. We're fucked now, boys.
Are you guys ready to go?
We're missing one of our players. We need to wait for a bit.
No, I got a dentist appointment in an hour, guys.
It's now or never. You're gonna play or forfeit.
What are you gonna do, homos?
If you forfeit, you lose anyway, so you may as well let us humiliate ya.
The people want a show.
You guys are such fucking losers.
Fuck this.
We can win this with or without Nathan fucking MacKinnon.
Let's play!
Fuck!
Fuck's sakes!
Fuck you, Ricky! You suck!
Come on! What the fuck was that?
-Fuckin' dick! -Move your ass!
Fuck!
-We want MacKinnon! -You guys suck!
We want MacKinnon!
Fuck you, Moncton!
Get the fuck outa the way, cum-hair.
Cock suck!
All right! Jesus Christ! Two minutes for...
-whatever the hell that was. -What?
Are you kidding me? Fuck off, my stick slipped.
Can you get him out or what?
Oh, I can get them out, but Chief Johnson is being a hard-ass.
It's gonna be two gees with my fees,
and hockey boy here doesn't have his wallet.
Jesus Christ, Steinberg.
Just invoice him.
He's rich for fuck's sakes, good for it.
Ooh, yeah.
But if he fucks me, that two gees is on you.
He's not gonna fuck ya. Just get him here.
Okay kid, all taken care of.
It's going to be eight...
ten, twe-- could be...
Well, let's just say between eight and fifty gees.
No problem.
Plus my fees, of course.
Whatever. I got to get out. Call my accountant.
Where the fuck is MacKinnon?
We need to see MacKinnon!
It's fucking amazing how bad you guys suck!
Might as well get back in there, Cory.
Fuck you, Neil!
-Five minutes. -Five? For what?
You! With the long arms. In the box!
I give up. We're two men down now.
Julian, these people were promised Nathan MacKinnon
and they want Nathan MacKinnon.
They're getting rowdy and stealing burgers now.
He's on his way. Tell them to chill out.
You pay for that burger?
Julian, the freaking burger is not important.
They won't chill out.
They're betting on this game for frick's sakes.
-This isn't the airport. -It isn't?
Sorry, got to go.
Okay, time out.
-About fucking time, man. -Are you guys serious?
Left in a restaurant with no money.
Do you not understand "bolt"?
Fuck, you're dumb.
Sorry, Nate. We thought you knew the code.
I mean, you're from Coal Harbor.
So you still going to play?
I think it might be better if I go home. I haven't seen my parents yet.
Oh, is that right? Your parents can wait!
-I guess I'm playing. -That's what I thought.
Get your fucking skates on and score some fucking goals, superstar.
I'm Steve Rogers.
Ladies and gentlemen, Sunnyvale's late addition to the roster:
Number 29 in your program,
number one in your hearts.
Our hometown hero...
Nathan MacKinnon.
I'm Steve Rogers.
Yeah, that's right, dickheads.
Nathan fucking MacKinnon just stepped on the ice,
and guess who he's playing for?
Sunnyvale!
Okay, here we go. The puck has dropped.
MacKinnon scores right away. A beautiful goal.
Sunnyvale really is starting to dominate here.
Look at MacKinnon! He scores again!
A big save by Ricky.
MacKinnon from the red line...
He scores again. Such a pleasure to watch.
Bubbles passes to MacKinnon. MacKinnon winds up.
Tops it off! We have a tie game, folks.
-Center! -What the fuck are you doing?
I need a rest.
I've been on the ice for 12 minutes.
You're in your 20s and you're rich. Suck it up, pansy.
MacKinnon takes it long, he's away--
Down with a violent slash to the leg...
All right. Fuck this!
Fucking pin him to the glass, Ricky!
Fuck you!
More side punches, Cory!
A cheap shot by Moncton.
Oh, my fuck!
Oh my God, where are my glasses, boys?
Penalty shot!
Number 29.
One second on the clock.
It all comes down to international superstar Nathan MacKinnon!
-My legs! -Fuck! MacKinnon's legs snapped.
That's it, boys. I'm done.
Come on, man. I can't skate with broken legs.
Someone else must take a penalty shot.
You're the only one who didn't get a penalty.
-Me? -He's over here, Bubs.
The tension in the air is palpable.
Can Bubbles reclaim the Stanley Bong for Sunnyvale?
Jesus, boys. I don't know if I can do this.
I mean, it's a lot of pressure.
Lift me up, guys.
You can do this, Bubbles.
You just have to use the force.
-What? The force? -Yeah, the force. Like Luke Skywalker.
Most people don't know this,
but whenever I take a penalty shot
or I'm going down on a breakaway, I close my eyes.
Are you serious?
I can sense the goal-scoring force is strong in you, Bubbles.
Yeah, you're fucking right that the force is strong in you.
-We always knew that too. -You can do is, Bubs.
Remember, "The Force will be with you."
Always.
It looks like Bubbles is trying to get his focus.
-You don't close your eyes? -Of course not. Are you crazy?
-He's just got a better chance this way. -Hurry up, loser!
We got some weed to smoke out of this motherfucker.
Use The Force, Bubbles.
Let go, Bubbles...
Just breathe.
Fans on their feet. It's all down to this.
Here he comes...
Oh! He fans on the shot! He's down. How embarrassing!
He won! The puck crosses the line! It's a goal!
Sunnyvale wins!
The Stanley Bong is theirs.
Holy fuck! Did you guys see that?
I didn't.
Don't take shit off 'em, Rick!
Ours!
We did it, buddy! We won the fucking Stanley Bong!
-Yes! -Right on! Yeah!
Thanks, 29 Kenobi.
Thanks, Julian.
Barb's going to be real impressed.
This has been the best day in my life, boys.
I mean, not only did I get to play with Nathan MacKinnon in a hockey game,
It's almost like I got to meet Luke Skywalker, too.
Bubbles, that was fucking awesome.
I'm so proud of you.
We all are.
Thanks, buddy. Because of you,
I finally know what it is to be a winner.
You are a winner, Ricky.
It feels... quite a bit better than being a loser.
Oh, fuck yeah!
Fuck, I missed you, baby.
Lord Stanley's octopus toke.
Fucking smooth.
Yep, you're definitely a winner, Ricky.