Trailer Park Boys: The Animated Series (2019) s01e09 Episode Script
Hurricane Ricky
1 SHARKANO OK, we only have 40 minutes until the next movie gets out, boys.
Remember, no fuck-ups, and you've got free power for life.
And free power means free dough.
See how easy this fucking is, boys? Okay, get to work.
Spread out.
Now that dope's legal in Canada, my only hope is in specialty weeds.
So I'm going green.
Just need a windmill, a bunch of batteries and boom, free power.
This could make a ton of money, and I'm saving the fuckin' earth at the same time.
Four minutes, boys, rap it up! See? This is how fucking smooth shit goes when Julian doesn't get involved.
Shit! Motherfucker's twerking like his grandma! Holy shit! Oh, fuck! My love balls! I'm all Stevie Wonder'd and shit! Oh, fuck! That fuckin' burns! Fuck me! Oh, fuck! This is fresh piss! Sorry, dude, that was me.
Hey, what the hell are you guys doing? Bubbles is following this tropical storm system that's coming from the south.
He thinks it's gonna hit hard.
Shit like this means big money.
You chain down the trailer, charge a $15 cover, have drink specials, and make a shit ton.
The best thing is, if the electricity goes out, Ricky's agreed to set me up free back-up battery power.
Hopefully we can get the shit all set up before the storm comes.
A lot of people don't seem to be taking this storm seriously.
I fuckin' am.
I'm taking every precaution I can.
There's no way me and my kitties are waking up floating downtown in my goddamn bunk beds.
-Fuck! I'm gonna fucking kill you! -Let it! Let it go! Jesus Christ! He's electrocuted himself ten times already.
If he's not careful, he'll wind up frying his brain, He'll spend his life drooling and shitting himself.
Bubs, you've gotta help me, man.
I've no idea how this shit works.
We keep being electrocuted.
It's fucked.
Ricky, I'd really like to help you, but I have to dismantle my shed.
I've gotta get my kitties storm-ready, gotta go to the fuckin' grocery store.
-I need bacon and eggs-- -Bubs! Tell me you're not that fuckin' stupid, -falling for their bullshit.
-What bullshit? Who owns news stations and weather peoples? -I don't know.
-The fucking government does.
Think about it.
A big fuckin' scam.
They own all the water people are buying, own all the gas people needs to fuckin' run generators.
They make money on everything you buy.
Then they fuck you more, making you pay taxes.
You don't pay taxes anyway.
I'm smart.
I don't fall for their fuckin' bullshit.
Bubs, help me with this, I'll give you free power for the rest of your fuckin' beautiful life.
Cory! All right, I'll fuckin' do it.
But I'm not doing it for free power.
I'm doing it to keep the fatalities to a minimum.
Getting Bubbles involved was the best thing that could have fuckin' happened.
I lied about the batteries.
Said I get 'em from Reg.
Shit came together quick.
Bubbles wired up the batteries, then we coated them all with this foamy spray foam shit.
It got fucking messy, but I had to make sure it'd be safe for Mo so he didn't shock his little hands.
What the fuck? Yay! I couldn't breathe! What the fuck were you doing under there? Be careful! Go outside, take some deep breaths, Mo.
Fuck! Then we put new fucking flooring over the dried foamy shit.
We've just gotta secure the windmill and we're set.
Which I told Bubbles I got from Reggie.
Blink blink.
Nova Scotia Power can wrap their lips around my succulent Montreal steak-spiced cock.
-Fuck them! -Ricky, I need you on the inside, bud.
Gonna bolt this cocksucker right through the wall.
Fuck, Bubs, those bolts big enough? Overkill, don't you think? Not taking any chances, Ricky.
You know my motto: do it once, do it fuckin' right.
Here's a question.
Why are we putting up a windmill right before a storm? Seriously? Wind makes power.
The faster it spins, the more power's made.
That's how a windmill works.
 I'm surprised you don't know.
I know how a fuckin' windmill works, bud.
This is like when God told Momuses to build an arch, put a few of each animals in it.
No, see, it's Moses.
But it wasn't even him, it was Noah you're talking about.
He was on a fuckin' ark, not a fuckin' arch.
And it was two of each animal.
You literally couldn't have fucked that up more if you tried.
And you know what else? He didn't fuckin' exist! What the fuck are you saying? Okay, smart guy.
Then how in the fuck do we have animals today? Okay, everybody, welcome to my retirement.
Ricky's green power! Hit it, Bubs.
Yeah, dude! It rocks.
More than 300 batteries were stolen from cars outside a local movie theater last night.
Correct me if I'm wrong, I coulda swore you said you got the batteries from Reggie.
Yes.
No, I did get them from Reggie.
And you know what? I guess he stole them and didn't tell me, Reggie lied to me.
Reggie lied to you? Big time, yep.
You fuckin' lied to me, obviously.
I didn't lie.
These guys are my witnesses that I wasn't there.
I was somewhere else, wasn't I, boys? -Was I there? -Green, shut the fuck up.
Steve Rogers here with an update on the storm system making its way -towards the Maritime provinces.
-Bullshit.
-Shut up.
-You shut up.
The system has officially been upgraded to a hurricane, and the latest models are showing it's changed direction.
Hurricane Richard is on course to hit Dartmouth around 9 p.
m.
tonight, and it's gonna be a doozy.
Holy shit, boys, they named a fuckin' hurricane after me! It's Hurricane Richard, not Ricky.
What the fuck do you think Richard's short for dumbass? It's short for Ricky.
Richard is short for Ricky? God, you're so stupid.
You know what he meant, Sarah.
It could be called Ricky.
Who gives a fuck what they named it? We should be evacuating! All right, everybody! We're on the move! -No, no.
-We're on the move! Are you stupid? I'm not leaving.
How often is a hurricane named after you? Plus, we have all the fuckin' power we need.
We're golded, Bubs.
Bubs, chill out.
 Ricky's right here.
Storms are never as bad as they say they'll be.
Yeah, sometimes.
Other times, you get trapped on a roof, willing to blow somebody for a bag of chips and a blanket! Bubs, listen, I've already got my trailer all chained down.
We'll just board up the windows and doors, everyone gets drunk and high, it's a nice safe place for everybody to ride the storm out.
Boys, we're gonna make a shit ton of money here.
Yeah, or get killed! Did you blow somebody for a bag of chips and a blanket? No, but I swear I saw it on the TV.
Hey, buddy! Here, man, have a "fuck hurricane Ricky" beer on me, man.
-Where's Bubbles? -Looking for one of his cats.
Man, we are gonna make a fuckin' killing here, bud.
And guess what? You're getting points of 30%, my friend.
Fuck off.
You're serious? That's what friends are for, bud.
You're a good fuckin' guy.
Okay, everybody, time for a toast.
Okay, shit might get a bit crazy tonight.
But at least we're together and a 100% safe, trust me.
And because of Ricky, we now have fuckin' free backup power.
Atta boy, Ricky! Let's have a fun fuckin' night.
Fuck Hurricane Ricky! Fuck Hurricane Ricky! I'm not scared, Hurricane Ricky.
You can fuckin' blow me! Oh, hi everybody.
How's it going? Don't fuckin' think so.
Hm, quite a little get together.
No, get him the fuck out of here, now.
Sorry, I don't believe we've met.
My name is Conky 2.
0.
You may have been acquainted with my predecessor.
And you are? You fuckin' know who I am.
 My name is fuckin' Ricky.
Bubbles, what the fuck is going on? Yeah, what the fuck is going on? One of Bubbles kitties is missing, that causes him a severe amount of stress.
-Bub's don't be doing this, man.
-Oh, Julian.
Did you hear about the terrible storm about to dance in here? Rather dirtily.
-See what he's doing? -Yeah, I caught it.
Bing Clawsby's out there all alone! We have to go look for him! Bubs, calm down.
Happy hour's almost fuckin' over, okay? We'll go and fuckin' look for him, I promise.
Then it's cut in stone if the all-powerful muscle machine made a promise.
You listen to me, you little piece of shit.
You get out of line, you die, way worse die than the first Conky.
Fuckin' understand? Conky fuckin' two point whatever.
I understand you perfectly well, Ricky.
Let's be friends.
Give us a little kiss.
Fuck off! Fuck! Bubbles, enough! I'm Steve Rogers.
Reporting live.
Hurricane Richard has made landfall now, just off Yarmouth, it's said to be increasing in strength.
The mayor is urging residents to stay inside.
Wind gusts are expected to reach upwards of 100 miles per hour.
This is Steve "Six Lives"-- Are you all right, Steve? Bing Clawsby! Here, kitty, come, kitty! Here, kitty, come, kitty! Bingy! It's too torrential.
 Get me inside, Bubbles! My fuck, it's getting really nasty out there! Bing Clawsby's not a season survivalist kitty, boys.
He could be in serious trouble! He's probably taken shelter under one of the trailers.
Have a drink.
He'll be fine.
He's an animal, man.
Yeah, Bubs, may as well be drunk when all the trailers start blowing over like matchboxes.
Are you sure we are fucking safe in here, Mr.
Man With the Muscles? 100%, Marguerite.
I wrapped enough chain around this, it probably could survive a fuckin' nuclear bomb.
Fuck! Where's the battery back-up? You lying cocksucker! What the fuck, Ricky.
You said we'd have fuckin' back-up power.
Me? Not my fuckin' fault.
Bubbles must've fucked up.
Way to go, Bubs.
Julian, I'm gonna sue your goddamn ass if I die in this shithole death trap, you lying son of a bitch.
everyone calm the fuck down.
The party's just getting started.
We'll deal with the power, okay? Sarah, Trin, Cory, keep serving drinks.
Rick, Bubs, let's go.
For fuck's sake, Julian! Why do I have to go? Yeah, no reason we should have evacuated, boys.
No storm or-- Holy shit! This is fuckin' nuts! That's what I was trying to tell you! Yeah, this was a great fuckin' idea.
These are the type of brilliant decisions that are made right before you fuckin' die! Hear that humming, boys? That's the sound of beautiful money, cling cling.
No, Ricky, that's the sound of batteries not designed to take this kind of load.
And about to explode.
Hey, we made a rhyme, bubby.
There's still power.
Guess it wasn't Bubbles who fucked up.
It was you, dumbass.
You gotta secondary motion Fuck off, the both of you.
Why the hell is there no power at my place, then? Well, everything I did looks fine.
I'm not sure what happened.
Oh, my fuck, boys, that's Bing Clawsby! He's trying to tap dance his way to safety.
Come on, we've gotta save him! Hey Julian, "The Rock" Johnson, can your sexually-iconic muscles give us a fuckin' hand here, please! Bubs, I'm warning you, man-- Julian, just fuckin' ignore him.
 I'm sorry.
He's more opinionated than his father.
Just help me, please! So you're Conky's son? Oh, my fuck, there he is! Careful, Bubs! Just hang on, little buddy.
Okay, I got ya.
Just hang in there.
Fuck! Fuck you, mother nature and your fuckin' stormy bullshit, you fuckin' bitch! Oh, my God, we saved him! Thanks, boys.
Oh, you're okay.
Oh, scratch your belly.
What the hell is that? I don't know, but it doesn't sound good.
Oh, my fuck! The trailer can't take it! -What the fuck! -Jesus Christ! She came right off the fuckin' frame! Oh, my God, are we fuckin' floating? Oh, my God, we are! It's from all the spray foam.
You turned your fuckin' trailer into a houseboat, Ricky.
-Holy shit, boys, we're on the move! -What do you mean? -We're moving! -Gee, I wonder.
Could it be the 14 foot fuckin' windmill you bolted to the side acting like a propeller now? Just propelling us along with no way to stop or steer.
Yee-fuckin'-haw! We're all gonna die! Shut him the fuck up, Bubs! -We're in serious trouble here, boys! -No shit! This is what happens when you try to help the environment.
Mrs.
Nature, fist you right in the ass! I wish we could steer this thing! -We need a fuckin' rudder! -A what? Good thinking, Bubs.
Maybe Julian Ferrigno could hang the top of the coffee table out the window.
I don't have patience for that little fucker now, Bubs! Shut him the fuck up right now or there's gonna be a man overboard! Well, he's fuckin' making sense, isn't he? Somebody, help me! I'm Steve Rogers, for fucks sake! Hold on, boys! We're going over the fuckin' river bank! Christ! Boys! I'm not sure how long I can do this! What should we do here? I don't know, but we're heading out to the fuckin' ocean! This is insane! We need to detach that fuckin' windmill somehow! How'll we do that with the three-foot bolts you fuckin' put on it? Well, just sit right back and we'll hear the tale The tale of a great idea He bolted a windmill to his trailer -And killed all his friends -You're not talking about me! His mate was a muscular sailor man Just as fucked as him Not now, Bubs.
-Selfish alcoholic -Fuck you, Conky! He'll never see another gym, whoo! Bubbles, knock it the fuck off! It wasn't me! It was you! Holy fuck, we're slowing down.
Maybe the storm's fuckin' over.
Yeah, maybe.
Or we could just be in the eye, and it's gonna be twice as fuckin' bad here shortly.
Oh, my Jesus, boys! What the fuck is that? What the fuck? Oh, my fuck! -Tell me that's not a fuckin' tsunami! -Oh, fuck, no, man, it's not.
That there is a fuckin' tidenal wave.
-Shit! What the fuck do we do? -Fuck! What'd they do in the tuna movie, The Perfect Storm? -Those dummies fuckin' died! -You're right.
Okay, what did they do? Whatever they did, we just gotta do opposite.
Boys, that was a fuckin' movie! Wait, I remember! Didn't they hit the wave head on? Dumb, it fuckin' killed them all! Okay, we've gotta hit it sideways! It's our only hope! -Nice, Julian.
-Yeah, it's our only hope.
Let's gamble our lives on the opposite of what Marky Mark and George Clooney did in a fuckin' movie! Get over here! Give me a hand turning this fuckin' thing! Holy fuck boys.
Tell me we're fuckin' alive.
Oh, yes we are.
Just in time to be stranded at sea and slowly starve to death.
I get first dibs on Julian's meaty tits when the time comes.
Yeah, I'll get first dibs on you, you little fuck! Holy shit, boys, I think we're saved! -Look, there's a boat! -Yes! Oh, thank Jesus' bountiful nut sack.
Hey! Anybody on-fuckin'-board here? Oh my fuck.
I think no one's on it.
Finders keepers, boys.
 Ocean people's rules! Holy shit, boys, we just hit the fuckin' lottery! Decent! All right, nice, full tank too.
Okay, where do you guys wanna go, the Mediterranean, the Bahamas? Fuck that.
Let's go to Jamaica, man.
Get some Jamaican gumball.
Yeah, 1,700 nautical miles south by southwest, that'd be a quick trip, Ricky.
Boys, how about we just go the fuck home? How about it? I need to check on my kitties.
Well, if we're going home, may as well relax, enjoy ourselves until we get there.
I don't recall Ricky.
Do you take capers and cream cheese with your smoked salmon? You're fuckin' right I do.
Oh, someone's not wearing swim trunks and letting his dead fish-smelling penis float around freely.
Know what, Conky, I've got a great idea.
Why not dive in and take a big lungful of air off my meat snorkel? Why don't you clamp your lips onto my wooden cock? This autopilot shit is fucking unbelievable, boys.
Did you see how much booze is onboard? It's fuckin' stacked.
Yep, only one thing missing.
-What? -Dope! I'm gonna find some.
 There's gotta be dope here, for fuck's sakes.
Ricky, cover your wiener! You know what? We should party in this all fuckin' summer, sell it in the fall, what do you think? And you're just gonna buy a berth at the Yacht Club, Donald Trump? Holy sweet motherfuck! Ricky, what's going on? Boys, get the fuck down here, now! Holy sweet fuck! What the fuck happened here? Well, as far as I can tell, this guy looks like he was in the shitter hiding balloons of coke up his ass.
And I think this bald dude caught him, pulled his gun on him.
There was a kind of stand-off.
Then this short fuck surprises them.
The guy with coke up his ass panics and shoots him.
The bald dude shoots coke ass.
Then coke ass falls back and blows short guy's bag off.
Then they must've all bled out.
Jesus, Ricky, when I asked you what happened, I meant figuratively.
I didn't need the Scooby-Doo rundown.
That was a thorough analysis though, I'll give you that.
Can you excuse me for one second? Smells like they've been dead a while.
How much coke do you think that is? A shitload.
This is the United States Coast Guard.
If anyone's onboard, come to the deck with your hands up.
Oh, excellent.
The United States Coast Guard has us in international waters on Pablo Escobar's boat with three dead bodies! Let's see you talk your way out of this one, Richard.
These guys look really stupid.
This is gonna be fuckin' easy.
Ricky, please, just tell them the truth.
Look, for once in our lives we didn't even do anything.
I repeat, come to the main deck with your hands up.
Okay, everybody calm the fuck down.
My name is Jim Cory Jacob.
-Just fishing with my two buddies here.
-Ricky.
I'm serious.
 Don't fuck around here.
Tell the truth.
-Man, are you sure? -Do it! Nobody move! Where's Juan Pablo Peña.
What? We have no idea where Juan Pablo Penis is, or anybody else.
Hey, got an American smoke I can get off you, Burt Reynolds? Search the boat, boys.
Okay, look, for the first time in my life, I'm gonna tell you the fuckin' truth.
It's fuckin' totally the truth.
Thank fuck.
-We're from Nova Scotia, Canada.
-Yep.
And I grow dope for a living.
Which is totally fine, 'cause dope is legal in Canada now.
-Totally legal.
-And I decided to go green.
So I've got this big fuckin' windmill and a bunch of batteries, hooked the windmill to my trailer to grow the dope.
Then that fuckin'Â prick hurricane Ricky hits, fucked us.
Blew the trailer off the frame and the windmill blowed us right out to sea.
All true stuff.
And then, a fuckin'Â perfect storm wave hits us.
Somehow we survive that and see this yacht floating here.
So like, "Holy fuck, we're saved.
" We now own that under the Freedom of the People's Choice of the Oceans, and that shit, so it's our yacht.
And, yes, there's a bunch of cocaine and some dead bodies, we had fuckin' nothing to do with.
-Are we good here? -That is the truth right there.
Good job, Ricky.
Get on the fuckin' ground, now! Oh, perfect.
I heard American penitentiaries are much friendlier than the ones at home.
Really looking forward to this.
Shut up.
Hands on your head.
I don't control my arms.
This is the Canadian Coast Guard.
We're looking for three Canadian citizens, last seen heading out to sea in that trailer during the hurricane.
Yes! That's us, sir! We're right here! Their under arrest for drug trafficking and murder.
Bull-fuckin'-shit we are.
Didn't you hear what he said, Officer Cock Mop Lip? You watch how you talk, you Canadian piece of shit.
And I'll have you know women love my mustache.
Bullshit.
I bet gay porn stars fuckin' love it though.
Thank fuck you guys are here.
Can you sort this shit out with these fuckin' Amernican dummies.
We're innocent! Are you mentally retarded? You are gonna spend the rest of your lives in a US prison.
Not opposed to say that word no more.
Ricky, let it go.
Fuck that.
I've a question for you.
Is that load in your nose or just a fuckin' snot nugget? -Okay, that's enough.
-Fuck! I t's worth pointing out that the dead bodies on this yacht have been decomposing for at least a week.
Therefore, we cannot be the killers.
But I'm sure you already thought of that, Jessica Fletcher.
I'm afraid the puppet's right, sir.
Fuckin' told you it wasn't us, you fuck face.
Ricky, fuck right off.
Sorry about that, sir.
 Look, we're leaving right now, back to Canada.
You'll never see us again.
Bye-bye, fuckheads.
Hey, guys, hook my trailer on the boat there, tow it back for me, I'll chip in some gas money when we get back.
Thanks, bud.
I fuckin' love you guys.
Yeah, that's just looking perfect.
I'm sure all that black mold will clean itself up.
Conky, will you fuck off! We're gonna deal with that! I can't believe you guys survived in that thing.
It must've been crazy, dudes: dead bodies, cocaine, coast guards, tidal wave, hurricanes, a million-dollar yacht, dude? Man, it must've been a good time.
No, it was not a fuckin' good time, Cory.
We should be fuckin' dead or at least in a US prison getting ass-diddled.
What does "ass-diddled" mean? you'll find out when you get older and get a girlfriend.
Jesus, guys, enough with the fuckin' sex talk.
Look at our poor park.
So many people lost everything.
-I know, Sarah.
-Oh my God.
It's okay.
The important thing is nobody fucking died, right? We're gonna figure this shit out.
Not sure how yet, but we will.
Look, I feel bad for everyone, I do.
But it was an act of God, and the insurance will not cover it.
You're not turning this friggin' place into a cattle ranch.
It's our home! Clont showed me the numbers, and the numbers work.
It is our decision.
 None of you people really have a say.
Is that right? Well, I'm sick and tired of your smooth-talking bullshit, Clont! Let's go, right now, you and me! Put your pants back on, son.
I'm not fighting you.
No amount of fighting will change my mind.
Julian, would you friggin' do something? Everyone, listen up.
Randy's right.
This trailer park's our home.
We're not gonna let anyone turn it into a goddamn cattle ranch.
Please, just give us, your family, a couple weeks.
Yeah, let us stay! Okay, okay.
You've got two weeks to secure the money to rebuild this place, two weeks, Julian.
That was a very inspiring speech, Braveheart.
Time to turn him off, Bubs.
We've got a lot of work to do.
You're not gonna get the last word, Julian.
-Bubbles.
-Not gonna happen.
Come here, you little wooden bastard! Come here! Trinity, take Mo inside for a second right now.
-Ricky, give him back! -This needs to happen.
I get the last word, little fuck! -Ricky! -Fuck you, Conky 2.
0! -Still talking.
-How? You're dead! -Last word.
-How do you not be dead? -Not dead! -Fuck you! No, fuck you.
-Fuck! -Fuck off! Jesus Christ! Fuck off.
Remember, no fuck-ups, and you've got free power for life.
And free power means free dough.
See how easy this fucking is, boys? Okay, get to work.
Spread out.
Now that dope's legal in Canada, my only hope is in specialty weeds.
So I'm going green.
Just need a windmill, a bunch of batteries and boom, free power.
This could make a ton of money, and I'm saving the fuckin' earth at the same time.
Four minutes, boys, rap it up! See? This is how fucking smooth shit goes when Julian doesn't get involved.
Shit! Motherfucker's twerking like his grandma! Holy shit! Oh, fuck! My love balls! I'm all Stevie Wonder'd and shit! Oh, fuck! That fuckin' burns! Fuck me! Oh, fuck! This is fresh piss! Sorry, dude, that was me.
Hey, what the hell are you guys doing? Bubbles is following this tropical storm system that's coming from the south.
He thinks it's gonna hit hard.
Shit like this means big money.
You chain down the trailer, charge a $15 cover, have drink specials, and make a shit ton.
The best thing is, if the electricity goes out, Ricky's agreed to set me up free back-up battery power.
Hopefully we can get the shit all set up before the storm comes.
A lot of people don't seem to be taking this storm seriously.
I fuckin' am.
I'm taking every precaution I can.
There's no way me and my kitties are waking up floating downtown in my goddamn bunk beds.
-Fuck! I'm gonna fucking kill you! -Let it! Let it go! Jesus Christ! He's electrocuted himself ten times already.
If he's not careful, he'll wind up frying his brain, He'll spend his life drooling and shitting himself.
Bubs, you've gotta help me, man.
I've no idea how this shit works.
We keep being electrocuted.
It's fucked.
Ricky, I'd really like to help you, but I have to dismantle my shed.
I've gotta get my kitties storm-ready, gotta go to the fuckin' grocery store.
-I need bacon and eggs-- -Bubs! Tell me you're not that fuckin' stupid, -falling for their bullshit.
-What bullshit? Who owns news stations and weather peoples? -I don't know.
-The fucking government does.
Think about it.
A big fuckin' scam.
They own all the water people are buying, own all the gas people needs to fuckin' run generators.
They make money on everything you buy.
Then they fuck you more, making you pay taxes.
You don't pay taxes anyway.
I'm smart.
I don't fall for their fuckin' bullshit.
Bubs, help me with this, I'll give you free power for the rest of your fuckin' beautiful life.
Cory! All right, I'll fuckin' do it.
But I'm not doing it for free power.
I'm doing it to keep the fatalities to a minimum.
Getting Bubbles involved was the best thing that could have fuckin' happened.
I lied about the batteries.
Said I get 'em from Reg.
Shit came together quick.
Bubbles wired up the batteries, then we coated them all with this foamy spray foam shit.
It got fucking messy, but I had to make sure it'd be safe for Mo so he didn't shock his little hands.
What the fuck? Yay! I couldn't breathe! What the fuck were you doing under there? Be careful! Go outside, take some deep breaths, Mo.
Fuck! Then we put new fucking flooring over the dried foamy shit.
We've just gotta secure the windmill and we're set.
Which I told Bubbles I got from Reggie.
Blink blink.
Nova Scotia Power can wrap their lips around my succulent Montreal steak-spiced cock.
-Fuck them! -Ricky, I need you on the inside, bud.
Gonna bolt this cocksucker right through the wall.
Fuck, Bubs, those bolts big enough? Overkill, don't you think? Not taking any chances, Ricky.
You know my motto: do it once, do it fuckin' right.
Here's a question.
Why are we putting up a windmill right before a storm? Seriously? Wind makes power.
The faster it spins, the more power's made.
That's how a windmill works.
 I'm surprised you don't know.
I know how a fuckin' windmill works, bud.
This is like when God told Momuses to build an arch, put a few of each animals in it.
No, see, it's Moses.
But it wasn't even him, it was Noah you're talking about.
He was on a fuckin' ark, not a fuckin' arch.
And it was two of each animal.
You literally couldn't have fucked that up more if you tried.
And you know what else? He didn't fuckin' exist! What the fuck are you saying? Okay, smart guy.
Then how in the fuck do we have animals today? Okay, everybody, welcome to my retirement.
Ricky's green power! Hit it, Bubs.
Yeah, dude! It rocks.
More than 300 batteries were stolen from cars outside a local movie theater last night.
Correct me if I'm wrong, I coulda swore you said you got the batteries from Reggie.
Yes.
No, I did get them from Reggie.
And you know what? I guess he stole them and didn't tell me, Reggie lied to me.
Reggie lied to you? Big time, yep.
You fuckin' lied to me, obviously.
I didn't lie.
These guys are my witnesses that I wasn't there.
I was somewhere else, wasn't I, boys? -Was I there? -Green, shut the fuck up.
Steve Rogers here with an update on the storm system making its way -towards the Maritime provinces.
-Bullshit.
-Shut up.
-You shut up.
The system has officially been upgraded to a hurricane, and the latest models are showing it's changed direction.
Hurricane Richard is on course to hit Dartmouth around 9 p.
m.
tonight, and it's gonna be a doozy.
Holy shit, boys, they named a fuckin' hurricane after me! It's Hurricane Richard, not Ricky.
What the fuck do you think Richard's short for dumbass? It's short for Ricky.
Richard is short for Ricky? God, you're so stupid.
You know what he meant, Sarah.
It could be called Ricky.
Who gives a fuck what they named it? We should be evacuating! All right, everybody! We're on the move! -No, no.
-We're on the move! Are you stupid? I'm not leaving.
How often is a hurricane named after you? Plus, we have all the fuckin' power we need.
We're golded, Bubs.
Bubs, chill out.
 Ricky's right here.
Storms are never as bad as they say they'll be.
Yeah, sometimes.
Other times, you get trapped on a roof, willing to blow somebody for a bag of chips and a blanket! Bubs, listen, I've already got my trailer all chained down.
We'll just board up the windows and doors, everyone gets drunk and high, it's a nice safe place for everybody to ride the storm out.
Boys, we're gonna make a shit ton of money here.
Yeah, or get killed! Did you blow somebody for a bag of chips and a blanket? No, but I swear I saw it on the TV.
Hey, buddy! Here, man, have a "fuck hurricane Ricky" beer on me, man.
-Where's Bubbles? -Looking for one of his cats.
Man, we are gonna make a fuckin' killing here, bud.
And guess what? You're getting points of 30%, my friend.
Fuck off.
You're serious? That's what friends are for, bud.
You're a good fuckin' guy.
Okay, everybody, time for a toast.
Okay, shit might get a bit crazy tonight.
But at least we're together and a 100% safe, trust me.
And because of Ricky, we now have fuckin' free backup power.
Atta boy, Ricky! Let's have a fun fuckin' night.
Fuck Hurricane Ricky! Fuck Hurricane Ricky! I'm not scared, Hurricane Ricky.
You can fuckin' blow me! Oh, hi everybody.
How's it going? Don't fuckin' think so.
Hm, quite a little get together.
No, get him the fuck out of here, now.
Sorry, I don't believe we've met.
My name is Conky 2.
0.
You may have been acquainted with my predecessor.
And you are? You fuckin' know who I am.
 My name is fuckin' Ricky.
Bubbles, what the fuck is going on? Yeah, what the fuck is going on? One of Bubbles kitties is missing, that causes him a severe amount of stress.
-Bub's don't be doing this, man.
-Oh, Julian.
Did you hear about the terrible storm about to dance in here? Rather dirtily.
-See what he's doing? -Yeah, I caught it.
Bing Clawsby's out there all alone! We have to go look for him! Bubs, calm down.
Happy hour's almost fuckin' over, okay? We'll go and fuckin' look for him, I promise.
Then it's cut in stone if the all-powerful muscle machine made a promise.
You listen to me, you little piece of shit.
You get out of line, you die, way worse die than the first Conky.
Fuckin' understand? Conky fuckin' two point whatever.
I understand you perfectly well, Ricky.
Let's be friends.
Give us a little kiss.
Fuck off! Fuck! Bubbles, enough! I'm Steve Rogers.
Reporting live.
Hurricane Richard has made landfall now, just off Yarmouth, it's said to be increasing in strength.
The mayor is urging residents to stay inside.
Wind gusts are expected to reach upwards of 100 miles per hour.
This is Steve "Six Lives"-- Are you all right, Steve? Bing Clawsby! Here, kitty, come, kitty! Here, kitty, come, kitty! Bingy! It's too torrential.
 Get me inside, Bubbles! My fuck, it's getting really nasty out there! Bing Clawsby's not a season survivalist kitty, boys.
He could be in serious trouble! He's probably taken shelter under one of the trailers.
Have a drink.
He'll be fine.
He's an animal, man.
Yeah, Bubs, may as well be drunk when all the trailers start blowing over like matchboxes.
Are you sure we are fucking safe in here, Mr.
Man With the Muscles? 100%, Marguerite.
I wrapped enough chain around this, it probably could survive a fuckin' nuclear bomb.
Fuck! Where's the battery back-up? You lying cocksucker! What the fuck, Ricky.
You said we'd have fuckin' back-up power.
Me? Not my fuckin' fault.
Bubbles must've fucked up.
Way to go, Bubs.
Julian, I'm gonna sue your goddamn ass if I die in this shithole death trap, you lying son of a bitch.
everyone calm the fuck down.
The party's just getting started.
We'll deal with the power, okay? Sarah, Trin, Cory, keep serving drinks.
Rick, Bubs, let's go.
For fuck's sake, Julian! Why do I have to go? Yeah, no reason we should have evacuated, boys.
No storm or-- Holy shit! This is fuckin' nuts! That's what I was trying to tell you! Yeah, this was a great fuckin' idea.
These are the type of brilliant decisions that are made right before you fuckin' die! Hear that humming, boys? That's the sound of beautiful money, cling cling.
No, Ricky, that's the sound of batteries not designed to take this kind of load.
And about to explode.
Hey, we made a rhyme, bubby.
There's still power.
Guess it wasn't Bubbles who fucked up.
It was you, dumbass.
You gotta secondary motion Fuck off, the both of you.
Why the hell is there no power at my place, then? Well, everything I did looks fine.
I'm not sure what happened.
Oh, my fuck, boys, that's Bing Clawsby! He's trying to tap dance his way to safety.
Come on, we've gotta save him! Hey Julian, "The Rock" Johnson, can your sexually-iconic muscles give us a fuckin' hand here, please! Bubs, I'm warning you, man-- Julian, just fuckin' ignore him.
 I'm sorry.
He's more opinionated than his father.
Just help me, please! So you're Conky's son? Oh, my fuck, there he is! Careful, Bubs! Just hang on, little buddy.
Okay, I got ya.
Just hang in there.
Fuck! Fuck you, mother nature and your fuckin' stormy bullshit, you fuckin' bitch! Oh, my God, we saved him! Thanks, boys.
Oh, you're okay.
Oh, scratch your belly.
What the hell is that? I don't know, but it doesn't sound good.
Oh, my fuck! The trailer can't take it! -What the fuck! -Jesus Christ! She came right off the fuckin' frame! Oh, my God, are we fuckin' floating? Oh, my God, we are! It's from all the spray foam.
You turned your fuckin' trailer into a houseboat, Ricky.
-Holy shit, boys, we're on the move! -What do you mean? -We're moving! -Gee, I wonder.
Could it be the 14 foot fuckin' windmill you bolted to the side acting like a propeller now? Just propelling us along with no way to stop or steer.
Yee-fuckin'-haw! We're all gonna die! Shut him the fuck up, Bubs! -We're in serious trouble here, boys! -No shit! This is what happens when you try to help the environment.
Mrs.
Nature, fist you right in the ass! I wish we could steer this thing! -We need a fuckin' rudder! -A what? Good thinking, Bubs.
Maybe Julian Ferrigno could hang the top of the coffee table out the window.
I don't have patience for that little fucker now, Bubs! Shut him the fuck up right now or there's gonna be a man overboard! Well, he's fuckin' making sense, isn't he? Somebody, help me! I'm Steve Rogers, for fucks sake! Hold on, boys! We're going over the fuckin' river bank! Christ! Boys! I'm not sure how long I can do this! What should we do here? I don't know, but we're heading out to the fuckin' ocean! This is insane! We need to detach that fuckin' windmill somehow! How'll we do that with the three-foot bolts you fuckin' put on it? Well, just sit right back and we'll hear the tale The tale of a great idea He bolted a windmill to his trailer -And killed all his friends -You're not talking about me! His mate was a muscular sailor man Just as fucked as him Not now, Bubs.
-Selfish alcoholic -Fuck you, Conky! He'll never see another gym, whoo! Bubbles, knock it the fuck off! It wasn't me! It was you! Holy fuck, we're slowing down.
Maybe the storm's fuckin' over.
Yeah, maybe.
Or we could just be in the eye, and it's gonna be twice as fuckin' bad here shortly.
Oh, my Jesus, boys! What the fuck is that? What the fuck? Oh, my fuck! -Tell me that's not a fuckin' tsunami! -Oh, fuck, no, man, it's not.
That there is a fuckin' tidenal wave.
-Shit! What the fuck do we do? -Fuck! What'd they do in the tuna movie, The Perfect Storm? -Those dummies fuckin' died! -You're right.
Okay, what did they do? Whatever they did, we just gotta do opposite.
Boys, that was a fuckin' movie! Wait, I remember! Didn't they hit the wave head on? Dumb, it fuckin' killed them all! Okay, we've gotta hit it sideways! It's our only hope! -Nice, Julian.
-Yeah, it's our only hope.
Let's gamble our lives on the opposite of what Marky Mark and George Clooney did in a fuckin' movie! Get over here! Give me a hand turning this fuckin' thing! Holy fuck boys.
Tell me we're fuckin' alive.
Oh, yes we are.
Just in time to be stranded at sea and slowly starve to death.
I get first dibs on Julian's meaty tits when the time comes.
Yeah, I'll get first dibs on you, you little fuck! Holy shit, boys, I think we're saved! -Look, there's a boat! -Yes! Oh, thank Jesus' bountiful nut sack.
Hey! Anybody on-fuckin'-board here? Oh my fuck.
I think no one's on it.
Finders keepers, boys.
 Ocean people's rules! Holy shit, boys, we just hit the fuckin' lottery! Decent! All right, nice, full tank too.
Okay, where do you guys wanna go, the Mediterranean, the Bahamas? Fuck that.
Let's go to Jamaica, man.
Get some Jamaican gumball.
Yeah, 1,700 nautical miles south by southwest, that'd be a quick trip, Ricky.
Boys, how about we just go the fuck home? How about it? I need to check on my kitties.
Well, if we're going home, may as well relax, enjoy ourselves until we get there.
I don't recall Ricky.
Do you take capers and cream cheese with your smoked salmon? You're fuckin' right I do.
Oh, someone's not wearing swim trunks and letting his dead fish-smelling penis float around freely.
Know what, Conky, I've got a great idea.
Why not dive in and take a big lungful of air off my meat snorkel? Why don't you clamp your lips onto my wooden cock? This autopilot shit is fucking unbelievable, boys.
Did you see how much booze is onboard? It's fuckin' stacked.
Yep, only one thing missing.
-What? -Dope! I'm gonna find some.
 There's gotta be dope here, for fuck's sakes.
Ricky, cover your wiener! You know what? We should party in this all fuckin' summer, sell it in the fall, what do you think? And you're just gonna buy a berth at the Yacht Club, Donald Trump? Holy sweet motherfuck! Ricky, what's going on? Boys, get the fuck down here, now! Holy sweet fuck! What the fuck happened here? Well, as far as I can tell, this guy looks like he was in the shitter hiding balloons of coke up his ass.
And I think this bald dude caught him, pulled his gun on him.
There was a kind of stand-off.
Then this short fuck surprises them.
The guy with coke up his ass panics and shoots him.
The bald dude shoots coke ass.
Then coke ass falls back and blows short guy's bag off.
Then they must've all bled out.
Jesus, Ricky, when I asked you what happened, I meant figuratively.
I didn't need the Scooby-Doo rundown.
That was a thorough analysis though, I'll give you that.
Can you excuse me for one second? Smells like they've been dead a while.
How much coke do you think that is? A shitload.
This is the United States Coast Guard.
If anyone's onboard, come to the deck with your hands up.
Oh, excellent.
The United States Coast Guard has us in international waters on Pablo Escobar's boat with three dead bodies! Let's see you talk your way out of this one, Richard.
These guys look really stupid.
This is gonna be fuckin' easy.
Ricky, please, just tell them the truth.
Look, for once in our lives we didn't even do anything.
I repeat, come to the main deck with your hands up.
Okay, everybody calm the fuck down.
My name is Jim Cory Jacob.
-Just fishing with my two buddies here.
-Ricky.
I'm serious.
 Don't fuck around here.
Tell the truth.
-Man, are you sure? -Do it! Nobody move! Where's Juan Pablo Peña.
What? We have no idea where Juan Pablo Penis is, or anybody else.
Hey, got an American smoke I can get off you, Burt Reynolds? Search the boat, boys.
Okay, look, for the first time in my life, I'm gonna tell you the fuckin' truth.
It's fuckin' totally the truth.
Thank fuck.
-We're from Nova Scotia, Canada.
-Yep.
And I grow dope for a living.
Which is totally fine, 'cause dope is legal in Canada now.
-Totally legal.
-And I decided to go green.
So I've got this big fuckin' windmill and a bunch of batteries, hooked the windmill to my trailer to grow the dope.
Then that fuckin'Â prick hurricane Ricky hits, fucked us.
Blew the trailer off the frame and the windmill blowed us right out to sea.
All true stuff.
And then, a fuckin'Â perfect storm wave hits us.
Somehow we survive that and see this yacht floating here.
So like, "Holy fuck, we're saved.
" We now own that under the Freedom of the People's Choice of the Oceans, and that shit, so it's our yacht.
And, yes, there's a bunch of cocaine and some dead bodies, we had fuckin' nothing to do with.
-Are we good here? -That is the truth right there.
Good job, Ricky.
Get on the fuckin' ground, now! Oh, perfect.
I heard American penitentiaries are much friendlier than the ones at home.
Really looking forward to this.
Shut up.
Hands on your head.
I don't control my arms.
This is the Canadian Coast Guard.
We're looking for three Canadian citizens, last seen heading out to sea in that trailer during the hurricane.
Yes! That's us, sir! We're right here! Their under arrest for drug trafficking and murder.
Bull-fuckin'-shit we are.
Didn't you hear what he said, Officer Cock Mop Lip? You watch how you talk, you Canadian piece of shit.
And I'll have you know women love my mustache.
Bullshit.
I bet gay porn stars fuckin' love it though.
Thank fuck you guys are here.
Can you sort this shit out with these fuckin' Amernican dummies.
We're innocent! Are you mentally retarded? You are gonna spend the rest of your lives in a US prison.
Not opposed to say that word no more.
Ricky, let it go.
Fuck that.
I've a question for you.
Is that load in your nose or just a fuckin' snot nugget? -Okay, that's enough.
-Fuck! I t's worth pointing out that the dead bodies on this yacht have been decomposing for at least a week.
Therefore, we cannot be the killers.
But I'm sure you already thought of that, Jessica Fletcher.
I'm afraid the puppet's right, sir.
Fuckin' told you it wasn't us, you fuck face.
Ricky, fuck right off.
Sorry about that, sir.
 Look, we're leaving right now, back to Canada.
You'll never see us again.
Bye-bye, fuckheads.
Hey, guys, hook my trailer on the boat there, tow it back for me, I'll chip in some gas money when we get back.
Thanks, bud.
I fuckin' love you guys.
Yeah, that's just looking perfect.
I'm sure all that black mold will clean itself up.
Conky, will you fuck off! We're gonna deal with that! I can't believe you guys survived in that thing.
It must've been crazy, dudes: dead bodies, cocaine, coast guards, tidal wave, hurricanes, a million-dollar yacht, dude? Man, it must've been a good time.
No, it was not a fuckin' good time, Cory.
We should be fuckin' dead or at least in a US prison getting ass-diddled.
What does "ass-diddled" mean? you'll find out when you get older and get a girlfriend.
Jesus, guys, enough with the fuckin' sex talk.
Look at our poor park.
So many people lost everything.
-I know, Sarah.
-Oh my God.
It's okay.
The important thing is nobody fucking died, right? We're gonna figure this shit out.
Not sure how yet, but we will.
Look, I feel bad for everyone, I do.
But it was an act of God, and the insurance will not cover it.
You're not turning this friggin' place into a cattle ranch.
It's our home! Clont showed me the numbers, and the numbers work.
It is our decision.
 None of you people really have a say.
Is that right? Well, I'm sick and tired of your smooth-talking bullshit, Clont! Let's go, right now, you and me! Put your pants back on, son.
I'm not fighting you.
No amount of fighting will change my mind.
Julian, would you friggin' do something? Everyone, listen up.
Randy's right.
This trailer park's our home.
We're not gonna let anyone turn it into a goddamn cattle ranch.
Please, just give us, your family, a couple weeks.
Yeah, let us stay! Okay, okay.
You've got two weeks to secure the money to rebuild this place, two weeks, Julian.
That was a very inspiring speech, Braveheart.
Time to turn him off, Bubs.
We've got a lot of work to do.
You're not gonna get the last word, Julian.
-Bubbles.
-Not gonna happen.
Come here, you little wooden bastard! Come here! Trinity, take Mo inside for a second right now.
-Ricky, give him back! -This needs to happen.
I get the last word, little fuck! -Ricky! -Fuck you, Conky 2.
0! -Still talking.
-How? You're dead! -Last word.
-How do you not be dead? -Not dead! -Fuck you! No, fuck you.
-Fuck! -Fuck off! Jesus Christ! Fuck off.