Head down.
- Arms straight. - Beat the crap out of it!
- Shut up. - Golf blows.
- Hesh wants to go to the 19th hole. - Shut up.
- Hesh wants jalapeño poppers. - Shut up.
Fore!
Another slice. Right in the reactor core.
I don't know what's wrong.
I'm hitting it as hard as I can.
- Give me another ball. - That was the last one.
What? I had a whole big sack of balls.
Hesh wants poppers!
Yeah, Hesh can shut up.
All right. Get in there.
Danger. Danger. Not safe inside.
- Hesh fears for life. - No ball, no tip.
I swear to God, I'll stiff you, son.
Well, thanks for nothing. ll can't play with that.
I'm going to the pro shop. Need anything?
Suit yourself.
Get a sleeve of sweet new balls, get my spikes sharpened.
Maybe some new club covers.
Oh. some AH ones.
Let's see here. That goes down there, down that other way.
And I was just in that one. Crap.
Which one was I just--?
Hey, Frank Lloyd "Wrong." Nice design, idiot.
Can't find anything in this dump.
That reminds me. I frigging hate Pod 6.
- Good morning, sir. - Which way's the pro shop?
- The what? - Pro shop? Pro shop, pro shop, pro shop?
- We don't have a pro shop, sir. - Who knows better?
Me, or a know-nothing like you who knows nothing?
- What's your name, smart guy? - Evans, sir. Pod 6.
Well, Pod 6 is just one big party, huh?
- Big, fat fun. Listen up, Eggers. - Evans.
You're not paid to stand around and beat your gums.
- Yes, sir. - So wipe all the stupid off your Pod 6 gob...
-...and get back to work. - I was just--
- Or would you rather go on report? - No, sir.
Because one single more word out of you, and you're on report.
Is that clear?
- Is that clear? - Yes, sir.
That's it. You're on report.
- I was just-- - Now, what was your name again?
- Eggers. - Well, have fun on report, Eggers...
...because that's right where you are.
We don't have a pro shop. I'm Eggers the jerk.
I like to eat worms and dance around.
Look at me, eating worms and dancing around...
...with worms coming out of my mouth."
I swear to God, one day soon, I'm gonna burn this whole place down.
See that, Eggers?
No pro shop, my ass. Who knew, Eggers? Murphy knew.
Pod 6.
I hate Pod 6. I don't even know why we have a Pod 6.
Total suck pod.
They don't need a pro shop, they need a dentist.
I'll visit your new location in hell, and when you get there...
...in a jillion little pieces, tell them Murphy's the one who sent you! To hell!
What's that? Hey. Hey, get back here!
Eggers.
Eggers, I command you to stop running so fast...
...away from me. Eggers.
Eggers, I-- I'm getting a stitch.
Bad stitch. Deep breaths, Murph.
Okay. Jeez, am I out of shape.
Okay. No pudding for a month.
Make that a week.
Damn call box. That's what we need down here.
Ham radio. Something.
Or a teleph--
Telephone.
I'll call the bridge and have those jerks...
...send some other jerks to come get me.
Okay.
What's that damn phone number?
Holy crap, this place sucks.
Whoever is on this phone, get off of it...
...because I need this line clear.
Also, what's the extension for the bridge?
Hello?
Jerk.
Is there an extension?
Jeez, come on already.
Give me an outside line.
Thank you, big, green phone.
You're the one thing I'm keeping when I torch this dump.
Operator, operator, operator...
- Operator. - Could you call those jerks at Sealab...
-...and tell them to come get me? - Number, please?
- I'm by the big, green phone. - I need a number, sir.
- This is Captain Murphy. - I can't place a call without a number, sir.
- How about the number one? - Would you like me to connect you...
...to directory assistance?
Shoo. shoe. Go away. Monster-Hash.
What did you call me?
Lady, I'm just trying to find the damn pro shop.
- Have you tried the phone book? - I don't have a phone book.
- I find that hard to believe, sir. - Look, all I want...
-...is some sweet new balls. - I beg your pardon?
Clean your ears out, woman. I want some balls.
I am reporting you to the telephone commission.
What is your name, sir?
Eggers.
How you like them apples, ho-bag?
And how do you like those very same apples, Eggers?
What the--? Oh, come on already with the tubes.
I get it. Sweet Mary, this place is driving me nuts!
Great. Wonderful.
Let me see that ice cream a second.
There you go. Hold it right up there.
What? What did you call me?
That's right. Run back to Mommy...
...like the little fat kid you are.
Like the little, running-away fat kid that you are.
Like a ham trying to run away from Christmas.
I could use a stiff one. Wait a sec.
There was a little bar right down the hall from the pro shop.
Big fat guy ran it.
What the hell was the name of that place?
Stupid's? Great Big Fat Guy?
Yeah, right. Like, right down the hall.
Yeah, here we go. Pop in and get my drink on...
...then right over to Pod 6 and show them who's boss. Me.
- What's shaking, sugar? - White Russians and keep them coming.
- You wanna dance...? - Hell, yeah.
Yeah, buddy. He's got hands...
That's my woman.
Is that Stanley?
- What the hell did you call me? - We've got no place to...
How the hell was I supposed to know...?
What's your name, big guy?
Down the hatch! Yes!
Yeah, drink it!
No, no, no, I gotta get over to Pod 6, throw a beating on a guy.
You keep the change, honey. You keep that, sweetheart.
And you, Stanley, my man, that hat's for you.
- All right. - No, no, no. All you.
Looks good on you.
Looking sharp. Okay.
Hey, hey. Shush.
Hang on. Hang on a second, will you, for...
Shut up!
- How'd I get here? - How the hell should we know?
Is that my hat?
I'm gonna go get Monster-Hesh and come back in there...
...and run some serious butts to be kicked.
Kick them around like ducks. Rats.
Damn you, Higgins.
[ENGLISH]