(crowd cheering)
(SportsDesk theme music)
- Hey, I'm James Duffy.
- Yes, he is. I'm Chad Bailey,
sexy, roguish new face of
our parent company's effort
to rebrand SportsDesk
for a new generation.
SportsDesk, it's not
delivery; it's SportsDesk.
- OK, uh, we go live to
Reading, Pennsylvania.
With the Big League officially shut
down thanks to the lockout, all eyes
are on the ENHL tonight
as the Reading Wolfdogs
get set to take on the Halifax...
- Highlanders, this season, the big show
made it to us. This lockout means
there's gonna be a whole bunch
of big dicks swinging away down to
our league. Play is gonna get faster,
the hits are gonna get harder,
crowd's gonna get "crowdier."
Fucking boys of the light brigade,
and you're gonna need someone
at the tip of the spear. You need a cap.
- Yeah.
- He's bled blue and orange for this team
a long time.
- That's right.
- He's got that shit that keeps him going
long after he has any reason to.
- (Coach): Open that up.
- Dougie. My boy. Put this fucker on!
Come on!
- (player): Looks good on you.
- Cheers. - (player): Alright.
- C, whoo!
(sighing)
- Thank you guys so much.
I've never been a captain before.
One time, I had a dream that I
was a captain of a monkey ship.
There was all these monkeys
playing around, laughing,
having fun, singing,
wearing little monkey sailor hats,
fighting over life jackets.
Pierce Brosnan was screaming.
I hope one day I could be
the captain of your dreams.
Best wishes. Doug Glatt.
- OK, yeah, alright, good. Well, we... Dougie,
didn't make you captain for your speeches.
We made you captain... Because you leave
it all out there on the fucking ice.
Ah, this sport is everything to you, right?
You make me proud to own this team.
I want you all to watch
Doug out there tonight.
Watch him do whatever the
fuck it takes to get us
the W. That said,
come on, let's get after
it, boys! (cheering)
- Congrats, bud. - Fresh-beat ice, boys.
- Thank you, buddy.
- I can't wait, Dougie.
- Go out and captain out there.
- (Duffy): Joining us for tonight's
game, our own Red McCauley.
- (McCauley): Reading city
council spent a bunch of money
on a new Jumbotron and right now,
it's making everything red.
- Go, boys!
(siren)
- I love this fucking game.
- (McCauley): And back to Reading here.
Here's Laflamme dancing with the puck.
Laflamme spins. He shoots. He hit the post!
Now it's Laflamme again. He's all
over the ice! Murphy steps into him.
Ohh! Glatt absolutely levels
Michael Murphy. Sorry, Mikey.
- (McCauley): Glatt's escorted aside
by a couple of Reading Wolfdogs.
Laflamme! He was flattened.
That angers Glatt.
Glatt fires a left. He fires a right.
- Sorry, Mikey.
- (McCauley): They're falling.
The Wolfdogs are down.
- Sorry, Mikey.
- Shut the fuck up, Doug.
- (McCauley): And that is what
friends are for, especially
when your friends are huge
Jewish guys named Doug Glatt.
(dynamic music)
Here's Laflamme taking the
puck. He moves up the left wing.
Laflamme trying to go to the
outside as the penalties expire.
Both sides at full swing.
Laflamme in behind the goal,
takes it into the corner He circles.
What's in front? Awaiting there is Glatt,
but Laflamme holds up, jams out. He scores!
Laflamme makes it 1-nothing for
the Halifax Highlanders. Alright.
- (McCauley): Reunited,
and it feels so good.
It's a new dawn for
the Halifax Highlanders.
(encouragements)
- You're like Captain America!
- "Captain America"!
- (McCauley): New owner and
GM Hyrum Cain's plan to win
a championship in his
first season starts off
with a bang as the
Highlanders open the scoring.
(SportsDesk theme music)
- Highlanders draw first
blood at the buzzer,
but the real story here
is the physical play.
Doug Glatt, like a huge
Jewish freight train
doing what he does best.
His tilt with Ross Rhea still
number 1 on the Hockeyfights.com
all-time best list.
He's already proving
to be a difference maker
for Halifax GM and
Highlanders' hall of famer
Hyrum Cain.
- The other story to follow
of course is Hyrum's son
Anders Cain who's coming
off that career-high
season last year: 80 points.
Anders now finds himself up
against his own father's team
in the very first game of the season.
Anders is the prototypical
modern-era tough guy,
able to drop the gloves
and put up the points as well.
Anders and Xavier Laflamme
are perfect examples of the
kind of the top-quality talent
this lockout is already providing
the League. What a great lockout.
- No one ever says that.
- I just did. And I'm Chad Bailey. SportsDesk...
it's sports at a desk, you lunatics.
Look at this motherfucking desk.
- I wanted to thank my big sis, Eva,
for organizing the fuck out of this!
- Yeah! - Indeed!
- Gonna get "shittered";
might as well get "shittered"
at my place of work.
- Place of work! (cheering)
Place of work! Place of work!
- And you just add some cheese in there.
- Oh, shit, there he is! Dougie!
- When it gets to a certain
length, I just go to the barber
and he cuts it to the length
that I want him to cut it in.
Thank you.
- (woman): Attaboy, Dougie.
- But just to summarize, that's
a yes on mandatory neck guards.
- Yes. That's correct. Thank you.
- OK. Now while we have
you here, is there anyone
back home you'd like
to give a shout out to?
- Yes, thank you. I want to
say hi to my one teammate Eva
who couldn't be here tonight. She's my teammate
and can't be here right now. My wife Eva.
- Doug with that big dick! (blonde woman laughing)
- That's not appropriate.
- I'll do whatever my team needs me to do.
- (blonde woman): Yeah, you do.
- (other woman): Yeah, Dougie!
- Whatever you need.
(Eva vomiting) Hahaha!
- Oh, my God!
- Hahaha!
My beer is back.
(Eva coughing) (toilet flushing)
(sighing)
- Ugh!
(other toilet flushing)
(ominous music) (baby laughing)
Aw, f...
- Fuck sake!
Jesus Christ! Goddammit!
No one wants to skate anymore. Is
that it? Do you want to sit here?
Breathe hard? Dougie, you're on.
I want you to rough up a few Reading cunts
right now. The boys need some inspiration,
and you can provide that.
Let's go! Come on, come on!
- Let's go, boys! Let's turn
this fucking thing around.
(dramatic music)
- Here it comes.
(crowd gasping)
- You wanna go?
(stick falling on ice)
(whistle)
- Come on, come on.
- (crowd, chanting): Fight!
- (McCauley): Jesus Christ!
Anders came with the opening salvo!
- Come on, come on!
- Doug Glatt is rocked!
Cain just keeps pouncing.
The Thug is in trouble, folks!
- Ugh!
(grunting)
- (McCauley): What has
happened to Doug Glatt?
The champion in so many eyes!
(crowd cheering)
- (Laflamme): Fuck off! You fuck!
(Glatt groaning)
- You popped your whole arm out. Fuck me!
- Did I lose?
(rock music)
(audio feedback)
- Our boy's moving on to greener pastures.
But remember, once a Highlander...
- (crowd): Always a Highlander!
- Fucking A!
- This one's for you, Dougie.
(guitar tuning and drumroll)
Oh, Dougie boy
The pipes, the pipes are calling
- Jesus Christ, he's drunk already.
- Fucking right, man. From glen to glen
- Potato fucking salad.
- And down the mountain
- Ow!!
- You will never eat a meal in peace.
- Animals don't eat in peace.
Animals eat pieces of dog shit.
- I'm not a fucking animal, man!
I'm a real person! I got real fucking
emotions. I don't eat... Fuck you!
- Ow! You fucking Neanderthals!
- So fucking tired though.
I'm not as fast as I used to be.
- I'm not as tough as I used to be.
- (man): Dougie, this is all for you!
(some people laughing)
- How much you... How much recovery time?
(man still singing)
- Doctor said
that I should never play hockey again.
- Tabarnak!
- Yeah. That's exactly what I said.
(Doug sighing) And we have a baby coming.
Eva's cousin, he's got a job
opportunity at an insurance company.
- Oh, Dougie boy
- I mean...
- Dougie boy!
I love you so
- Got beaten.
(drumroll) He beat me.
I have to make responsible decisions.
(crowd applauding and cheering)
- Alright.
- I got you. I got you, friend.
- Stevesy, I think I'm gonna piss myself.
(retro orchestral music playing)
- Hey! There's my guy!
Hey, stay there, I'll come to you.
Ooh! Yeah.
- (employee): I'm good, Ray.
- Just stand here?
- Just...
I told you I'm coming to you. I'm Doug
Glatt. I said I was coming to you.
I can do this. Prostate.
Work up. Got a melon.
Here we go. See? Flat,
I'm fine. It's the stairs.
- I'm Doug Glatt. - Yeah. Bob Forbes.
- Ow, my arm!
- Oh yeah, hell of an arm! How
excited are you right now, huh?
- Yes. Thank you so much.
The windows here are great.
- Yeah, tell you what. You deserve
'em. 'Cause the sky is the limit
here at Cornwallis Insurance.
- Hmm! - You seen the commercials?
- No.
- Ah, you should, they're real good. It says,
Go ahead and call us, we're...
- You want me to call you?
- No, I want you to finish the song. Cornwallis.
- Oh.
- Hahaha! There he is. He's going up, this guy.
Get in there.
Used to be a jail.
Prisoners killed themselves.
"Doug Glatt, storage room,"
that's you. How does that feel?
You know, you mentioned
you play hockey; I used
to watch a lot of hockey 'til it
got too exciting for the old ticker.
Had a massive heart attack. Yep,
I am a sick man. Anyway,
I'm lying on my death bed,
and that's when I got bit
by the selling insurance bug.
(Doug chuckling) Yep, she laid eggs
right inside of me, and now you're here.
- I'm allergic to eggs.
- You're an idiot;
nobody's allergic to eggs. (man
outside moaning) Oh, Christ,
this guy. Come on, come on! Come on!
Aah! Get out of there! Quit! Quit that!
- (man outside): Fuck you!
- It's like he's showing off. Huh? Nice fixed stream.
- Yeah.
- God! They got a whole alley to do that in and then they choose
this window to piss on.
God, it's like crack to them.
- Crazy.
- They also sell crack at that window.
- Oh! OK.
- But don't worry, it's safe as
long as you get out by sundown.
That's when the handjobs start.
(pop music playing)
- What the...?
A lot of cars in our driveway.
(You're a Strange Animal
by Gowan playing)
- AAAH! Surprise!
- Hey, fuck!
- I was gonna be in town anyway, so I thought to
myself, wouldn't this be the perfect opportunity
to organize a little something
for the two of you? Ohhh,
I am so proud of you, Dougie. You
found something secure and steady.
You see? Everything has a time and a place.
Hmm! Hmm-hmm!
- Thanks, Mom.
- Oh. Your house, the baby...
I can't believe I'm gonna be a grandmother.
If I'm being honest, there was a while there
where I never thought it was gonna happen,
what with Ira being the way he is and all.
- Jesus, Mom.
- Wow!
If it makes you feel any
better, I go all kinds of ways.
- What kinds of ways?
- Ah, you get me drunk enough,
I'll munch a box. That's not an
animal; I got all kinds of tricks.
(man growling)
- Feels like my ass threw up!
HEYYY! There he is! No, no, come on,
give me the good stuff.
Give me the... No, no.
(gurgling)
- (Doug's mom): Ohhhh!
- Fucking... Mazel tov!
Mazel tov! In your a...
Oh, excuse me, I didn't... I'm sorry.
Sorry. - (whispering): No. Fuck.
- I was just pretending to butt fuck my friend.
I don't think we've been properly introduced.
I'm Patrick... Hoolahan.
- We've met, you idiot!
You wouldn't stop hitting on
me at Doug and Eva's wedding.
And you fell asleep and pissed yourself.
- Nice. Represent.
- (Mary): Yeah.
- Why do you have a boner?
- You just noticed that?
- Hey, what, I have a...
- (Mary): It's massive.
- What? Uh...
- Come on, clean it up!
- Ah! - No! Stop!
- Just trying to get rid of it.
- Pat always gets boners.
- (Pat): FUCK! DIB! HIYA!
- So how was your first day?
- Work?
Oh, it... Aw, It was so fun.
Yeah. I mean, there's
so many documents and...
phone calls to make and receive and...
You sit a lot.
I mean, like, pretty much the whole day.
So it's safe. You know, it's really safe.
Plus there's a Harvey's
close by, which is good.
- Hey. I'm proud of you,
of us.
We're doing this. It's...
it's a fucking a lot and...
(chuckling) It's crazy, but we're doing it.
Together.
- A team.
- Yeah, we're a team. Got each other's backs.
I know it's hard for you.
I mean, I know you miss it.
And I miss it too.
I loved watching you play,
but I love you and...
the family we're gonna
have, more. (toilet flushing)
- AAH! Guys! Dropping loads.
Dropping fucking hot meatball
loads from my asshole.
- Hey, Pat.
- This... I
- I was just... I'm having... I'm having
some stomach issues today.
- (announcer): Ladies and germs,
welcome to the Bruised and Battered
Hockey Fighting Competition.
Proudly banned in 11 states,
6 provinces and 1 territory!
The hockey tournament
for retired fourth-liners
with only one rule:
no hockey.
- You know, I tell ya, Hot Ice
would have been all over this shit.
Fucking kids these days
with their fucking...
YouTube.
Fucking Isis.
I tell you what, I'm into
new shit now. But lately,
Dougie, my new thing; I'm all about going
fucking door to door
selling fucking china deluxe.
Look at this fucking thing,
right? You know, you fucking...
You put it someplace, you put it
another place. People fucking look at it.
Does everything it needs to do.
Dope, right? Dougie?
- I keep going over
and over it in my head.
He was unlike anybody
I've ever fought before.
He was faster...
meaner.
Thank God Eva wasn't
watching when he beat me.
- (announcer): And now, the
main event of the evening!
Fighting for the $400 grand prize
is reigning champ, Ross "the Boss"...
- Rhea!
- (announcer): Rhea!
- (Pat): Yep, you kicked the
shit out of him. He looks like
265 pounds of dog shit stuffed
into fucking ice skates,
but, tell you what,
motherfucker can still bang.
(neck cracking)
- Hey, Barnesby.
- Bossman.
- How's the shoulder?
- Fucked as usual.
Thanks for asking, though.
- Alright. I'll make it quick for you.
- Fuck you.
(crowd cheering)
(rock music playing)
- (spectator): Follow the dream! Yeah!
- Oof! Oof!
- Stand up and say And say your prayers
Stand up and say
Say your prayers Say them
- Oh!
- You alright, Barnes?
- Aww, go fuck yourself.
- Jesus fucking Christ!
It's a fucking crime scene!
(cheers and applause) Bra-ah!
- (woman): I love you!
- "The Bruised and Battered Competition...
"would like to thank you
for your continued support.
"But we are especially thankful...
(audio feedback) (soft music playing)
"for the Dartmouth Wig Outlet.
You won't wig out at their prices."
- (spectator): Fucking
sister wearing the wig!
(spectators shouting)
- Alright.
I got some people I want to
thank too. You fucking people!
(crowd whistling and
jeering) Yeah. That's right.
I used to think I was done.
And maybe there... there
is a time for everybody...
but when I step out on this ice
and I see all of you
cheering me on, I know my time
ain't done yet. Thank you very much.
- You're the fucking man, Ross!
- (crowd): Ross! Ross! Ross! Ross!
Ross! Ross!
Ross! Ross! Ross! Ross! Ross!
- I'm James Duffy.
- And I'm Chad Bailey. You're watching SportsDesk.
SportsDesk, we're all pink on the inside.
- Oh, Jesus Christ.
Anyway, Halifax's woeful
losing streak extends
to 12 straight losses to start the year.
They've been in a rut
since their disastrous
season-opening loss to Reading, which saw
then-captain Doug Glatt
hospitalized following
what would be a career-ending
tilt with Anders Cain.
Can the Highlanders find a
way to turn things around?
- (Hyrum): I bought this team because I win.
- (Coach): I know.
- This lockout should be the best thing
to ever happen to us, but we're blowing it.
We are going after the biggest
names on this side of the Atlantic,
players you can build a team
around, starting with Anders.
- Wait. Your son?
- Yeah. He's been
a fucking beast for Reading.
Not to mention, he almost
singlehandedly eviscerated us.
- Why are you taking so much joy?
He pretty much ended Dougie's
fucking hockey career.
- Hey, Glatt's career
was ending all by itself.
- Well, we're never gonna
know that now, are we?
No offense, Hyrum, OK?
But you and your son, not
exactly Walter and Wayne.
- That shit is behind us. You can
believe he is not gonna fuck this up.
He knows what's at stake.
We go all in for Anders...
you're gonna make him captain,
and I'm gonna keep his ass in line.
- Hyrum, please. Captain? Let's talk about this.
- Ronnie...
- Let's think about this. Let's think about the A...
- Ronnie!
- Before we get to the C.
- Ronnie! You're gonna coach my kid.
You're gonna build a team around
him, you're gonna make him captain
or I'm gonna find some other
fucking guy who will. Fine.
- Good.
- Fine. Better than being on the door.
(rock music)
(rock music)
(Strength of Strings
by Gene Clark playing)
- Hey.
- Hey. Thanks for coming.
- Thanks for inviting me.
- Welcome. What do you think?
- I think it's... I think it's all...
you.
- As it should be, right?
- As it should be.
- Great room. - Great room.
- Can I get you a soda pop or...?
- Uh...
- Sunflower seeds? - Uh, yeah, seeds are good.
- Help yourself. Sit down.
- Sunflower seeds are for
winners. (tongue clicking)
- Son...
- Sorry. It's uh...
- You're carrying the torch now.
- Yes, sir.
- You don't want...
(clicking tongue) ...over you.
- I own the torch.
- Our name's on your back. Our family.
- Our family. And actually,
um, Mom was asking me...
- Our name is a currency in this town.
- Absolutely.
- I don't want you to fuck
this up. Not this time.
This season's everything.
The world is watching.
- Maybe not the world.
I mean, Canada probably, but...
And like three or four states.
- Stand up.
I'm giving you the C. - Yeah.
- You're gonna prove me right.
You're gonna win. - Yes, sir. Gonna win.
- Stay the fuck out of trouble.
- Because the therapy worked this time.
- I don't wanna hear about that.
- We won't talk about it.
- That's for your mom.
- Yes, sir. - It's shit for your mom.
- Yes, sir.
- Don't bring shit up like that.
- (man on TV): You don't know
nothing about good times.
Let me tell you about
fucking good times.
I remember that summer
like it was yesterday.
Good music, nice
heat, great friends.
One night, me and my
friends, my great friends,
went for hamburgers downtown.
That summer,
we ruled the world. (touching
music) We thought we "wuz" the kings.
Turns out we "wuz" the jokers.
- (older man on TV): Look what the fucking
cat dragged in! (indistinct TV show)
(rock music)
(indistinct chatter)
(chatter stops)
- (player): Fucking kid.
This is bullshit.
- He has hair like a lion.
- Bring it in! Bring it in!
OK, boys. We kind of fucked
up the start of this thing, eh?
So now, we got a few lads who are
on their wages up for the big show
down here with us wearing our jerseys.
Jean-Pierre Finch.
- Yo.
- We got, uh, Pet... Petr,
uh, Petri Dish, Petrov.
A lot of P's. (speaking foreign
language) What's he doing?
- He's handing out candy.
- Candy? (word in Slovak)
- It's a Slovak tradition, maybe.
- Better be.
- Oh, my God!
(speaking Slovak)
- OK. And Anders Cain.
OK. Super duper!
OK, now that Dougie is
retired, we need a new captain,
and I cannot think of a
better leadership tandem...
than Xavier Laflamme with the A,
Anders Cain as captain. There you go.
Alright. (sticks hitting ice)
Alright.
- This ice is shit, fix it.
Perhaps the new captain would like
to say a few words to his team.
You alright, son? - Right. Right.
- Give me something.
- Nothing else fucking
matters if we don't win.
They brought me here to win.
My dad brought me here to win.
That's what we're gonna
fucking do. Anybody here
like fucking sunflower seeds? Well, this
barn's sunflower seeds are fucking winners.
- Hey, hey, hey. - Right? Fuck yeah!
- Great, that's good. Yeah.
- Fucking right, Dad, right?
- Right.
I know many of you... are veterans,
many of you are old friends, many of
you have never worn another sweater;
I'm here to tell you: all
of that gets you nothing.
Produce, you will be rewarded.
Don't, you'll be sent packing. Hey!
- It's a buyers' market out there, so for
most of you, that's your fucking career done.
(rock music)
(players whooping)
Fucked up the first part of this
season. Find a way to be relevant!
Make yourself fucking relevant!
Because from this point on...
- Fuck!
- From where I'm fucking standing...
- Ah, fuck!
- It's Darwin.
- (goalie): Come on, guys! Play!
I'm right here! Play hockey, guys!
Hey!
You! Look alive, man! And
who the fuck is Darwin?
(soft classical music)
(cat meowing and hissing) (clanking)
(man outside moaning
and talking indistinctly)
(soft classical music)
- (reporter): Anders, new team,
new city; any message for the fans?
- They brought me here to win.
- (reporter): Care to confirm or
deny the rumours of your captaincy?
(inaudible whispering)
- It's my team now.
- (reporter): Xavier Laflamme
declined to comment.
- Ah! (gasping)
(indistinct yoga TV program) Oh!
- What's the bag for?
- These are just documents. It's
a huge bag full of documents.
I'm going to an insurance festival.
- Huh?
- I better go, Eva. It's real late. Bye.
- (TV): You then inhale...
- The fuck?
(indistinct chatter)
(boat horn)
(distant barking)
- Hello, sir.
- Holy shit on Mary's tits.
Fuck are you doing here?
- Came here to see you.
Got injured. Right arm.
- Yeah, I saw that. Hard lad,
this Anders Cain.
So what are you doing with the hockey bag?
- I wanna be a Highlander again.
- Oh, Jesus, kid. (distant siren blaring)
- Will you train me?
- Train you to what?
- Teach me to fight with my left.
(chuckling) Teach me to skate better.
- What the fuck do I know
about skating, Doug? You
see what I do in there.
- We can train another time if
you're not able to right now.
There's a restaurant
nearby that sells hotdogs.
We could just eat those instead.
- Hotdogs? - Yeah.
- It's like a sausage sandwich...
- I know what a fucking hotdog is.
- Looks like a penis.
- Jesus Christ.
Alright. Twenty minutes.
We go in there, get it out of our
system, and you go right home, eh?
- Thank you, sir.
- Ah, Goddammit! Not again.
They better not. Fuck this!
AH, SHIT!
Left my fucking bus pass in there.
I NEED MY FUCKING BUS PASS!
- What time is it?
- 11:37. Wait.
11:38.
- Did you just get home?
- Yeah. The insurance carnival's long.
I was meeting all these
people who do insurance.
It's really safe.
It's a real thing.
- It doesn't sound like a real thing.
- Uh... (sniffing)
- Mmm, you smell like hotdogs.
- Thank you.
(rock music) (loud ticking)
(Gong!)
- Ugh! Oh!
- (Ross): That's it, rotate.
Rotate. Alright, now, do that left across.
- Sometimes, when your
hopes have all been shattered
There's nowhere to turn
You wonder how you'll keep going
- (McCauley): Halifax Highlanders
and the Hamilton Steelers.
Now Laflamme is rammed on the
corner. He's run into and decked!
- Sorry. Looks like I...
- Tagged ya! Tagged ya again.
- Sorry, bud.
- Stop fucking saying sorry. I'm kicking your ass, boy!
- (McCauley): Now Depere digs
the puck out of the corner,
moves in on the back... He scores!
- Whatever, man, I could have
stopped that with your dick.
- (McCauley): And it is a 3
- nothing lead for Hamilton over Halifax.
(Doug coughing)
- Uppercut.
- Dare, dare to keep
all your dreams alive
(sighing) It's time to take
A stand
- (McCauley): The newest
Highlander, Anders Cain, scores!
Quite an individual
effort by Anders Cain!
- Ah, ah. Keep it down,
Dougie. For fuck sake,
how many times do I have
to tell ya? Just the left.
(fast-paced music)
Put some heat on it, boy.
There you go! That's
the one I'm looking for.
- (McCauley): Here's
Anders Cain! He scores!
Anders Cain and... Uh-oh!
Just like that, down goes Davinski.
- Oh, Christ!
- (McCauley): And he'll head straight
to the penalty box.
- FUCK YOU!
- (McCauley): And now,
the Moncton Lords score!
- Fuck!
- Shit game, man.
- (Duffy): Well past the
midpoint of the season, Cain
and the Highlanders continue
to be their own worst enemies
as they remain on
the playoff bubble.
(exhaling forcefully)
- Dare
- Yeah!
You're working your ass off, kid.
There's a ceiling on your skating,
and that left hand's never
gonna be as strong as your right,
but trust me, it will fuck somebody up.
Listen, Dougie, there's
something you might wanna know.
Shit show's moving.
Next Bruised and Battered is
gonna be at the Metro Centre.
You wanna be a Highlander?
That's your ticket.
There's your audition, boy.
Hyrum's gonna be watching.
You could show him
and everyone else you're
still fucking here.
What do you say?
- (Duffy): And while they
keep finding ways to win,
the Highlanders keep
finding ways to lose too.
Many are blaming the hot and
cold play of Anders Cain,
who sits 31st in scoring,
but leads the League
in penalty minutes.
- We've dropped eight
of the last ten. We take
penalties the way other teams change lines.
- I'm trying.
- What do I say?
- Don't fucking try; fucking win.
- Wake 'em the fuck up.
Alright?
- "Wake 'em the fuck up." Yes, sir.
- Good.
Lead these guys.
- That tie is too short, Chad.
- Or I know exactly what
the fuck I'm doing, James.
SportsDesk: we
know exactly what the fuck
we're doing... James.
- Oh, my gosh! Thank God, it feels
so good to be out of the house.
And I am so excited about this
restaurant. Me and the baby
are gonna eat the shit
out of some pad Thai.
Oh, why have we taken
the long way? It's not...
(man laughing) Doug, do you wanna
go in and say a quick hello?
- Well, I'll be honest.
I already ate and I'm already drunk,
so the bar seems to make sense.
- For fuck sake! Man, feels like
it was fucking yesterday that I was...
working here, bartender,
boyfriend who played hockey.
- Yep.
- Now, I'm pregnant and married
to a guy who says we're a
team, but he's always gone,
and for some reason, he
feels he has to hide the fact
that he eats hot dogs.
What the fuck happened?!
Are we these people now?
This is... this is who we are?
- Oh yeah, that's us. You and me, baby.
(indistinct pop song playing)
- No. Me and... Me and Doug.
- Ohhh, I gotta take a piss.
- OK.
- Still got my jacket on. Hahaha!
- Ha!
- Get me another beer. - Yup.
- So, Dougie, how's that new job going?
- Oh, it... it's, oh, fun.
Yeah. There's...
there's all these documents, you know?
I get to bring a thermos to work,
which keeps my food hot and cold.
Sometimes, I put hamburgers in there.
It's up to me.
- The way we're playing, we're
all gonna need a new job soon.
- Uh, I suppose I could go back
to Pentecostal summer camp
with my cousin's boyfriend.
- I'm gonna have to move back with Mom.
But don't get me wrong, I love her to bits,
but that bed pan fills up fucking fast.
- I don't want to work at my uncle's eel farm.
- Hm-mm.
- I don't know how to do anything else.
(indistinct chatter)
(sigh)
- Ah, you know, it's just a slump, boys.
She'll pass.
Come on, get 'em in ya!
- Mmm.
- All the drinks in this
country taste like piss.
- Taste like a Kazakh shit in my mouth.
(slurping)
- Oh, that tastes like burps.
(soft music)
- Welcome home, kid.
- Thanks.
- Big night, eh? Everybody watching.
Don't worry, you'll be
fine. What poor bastard
they got you matched up with tonight?
- Didn't they tell you?
The format's been changed.
- Changed to what?
- (announcer): Ladies
and gentlemen, the Bruised
and Battered Competition
is proud to bring you
tonight's special event.
Ten fighters, one rink, one fight
in our first ever Battle Royale!
- Let's fucking go!
- Are you ready?
Are you ready?
- Really bad idea.
- Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.
- AAAAAH!
- AAAAAH!
(blows whistle) (electronic music)
(crowd cheering)
- Oh, jeez! Oh, jeez! Oh, jeez!
- AH!
- Jesus Christ on a bike!
(fighting exertions)
- Fuck you, Glatt!
- The fuck are we doing here?
- I don't know, I went to fucking Princeton.
- You look like Super Mario.
Hey, Andrew.
- My fuck, can he still bang.
(electronic music) (fighting exertions)
- Here, big guy. What are you,
like, fucking 15 years old?
- AAAAH!
- (crowd chanting): Ross! Ross!
- I think he had enough. (Ross grunting)
Let me go. Let me go.
I'm the ref, let me go!
- Fuck it!
- Ugh!
(Doug panting)
- (spectator): Woohoo! Get out of here!
- (spectator): You're one
tough motherfucker, Dougie!
(Ross sighing) (crowd cheering)
- Hey, kid.
- Hi, sir.
You all right? (Ross chuckling)
(Ross snorting)
- Yeah.
I've been better.
- (crowd): Fight! Fight! Fight!
- (Ross): Ah, fuck.
- (crowd): Fight! Fight! Fight!
Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!
- Let's not reinvent the wheel here, eh?
- (crowd): Thug! Thug! Thug! Thug! Thug!
Thug! Thug! Thug! Thug! Thug!
- Wait, wait.
(crowd sighing) Got you, buddy.
I think we should leave. (crowd booing)
I got you.
(cracking sound)
- Oh!
That was a fucking shit show, eh?
Not exactly playing hockey, is it?
Thanks, kid.
You had my back out there.
I owe ya. (Ross coughing)
- Maybe I should take you to the doctor.
- What for?
So he can tell me I got
post-concussion syndrome?
One more bad hit, and then you're done?
It's not fucking soccer, Dougie.
Been hearing that shit for a decade now.
- Doesn't sound very good.
- You looked mean out there, kiddo.
Young Anders better watch his ass.
(Petrov laughing)
- Lead these guys! Lead these guys!
Fuck, what would a leader do?
What would a fucking leader do
right now? Alright! Alright! Listen up!
Captain speaking! Captain time!
Off your fucking phone, Laflamme! Get off!
- (whispering): Turn it off.
- You turn the fucking puck
over in the neutral zone one
more time, and I'll teach you
a fucking lesson you'll
never forget. Got it?
- The fuck you just said?
- And you KHL-garbage-
bullshit-Ukrainian-
fuck-hockey-league-
Chernobyl-disaster
fucks, you turn that fucking
puck over one more time,
and I'll fucking kill both of you! And you!
- Yeah?
- Hey, fuck, I don't even know, fuck you!
Fuck you!
- Hey!
Be nice.
What?
Be...
nice.
(Anders roaring) (Stevenson screaming)
- WHOOO! WHOOOO! Fuck yeah!
That's what I'm talking about! Sports!
You miss fucking Doug Glatt? You
think he gives two fucking shits
about you guys? I care! I fucking care!
We're gonna do this together!
Highlanders on three!
(Petrov laughing) One, two, three,
Highlanders! My line starts.
See? He gets it. He fucking gets it!
He smiles! He fucking gets it!
Fuck! No! No more fucking candies!
What the fuck! Holy shit!
(Petrov laughing)
(techno music) (crowd cheering)
- (McCauley): Highlanders
lead Newark 1-nothing thanks
to a goal by Anders Cain.
Anders Cain wants
it badly; he shoved
his own teammate aside.
Now, the captain waits.
Cain takes a good look up the ice.
Down at the other end
is Laflamme hovering
in the neutral zone. Cain works it
up, Laflamme well ahead. No, no, no!
- (McCauley): In a suicide pass,
Laflamme is decked by Balako!
- Fuck!
- Fucking cunt!
- (McCauley): Down on the ice is
Laflamme. He's spitting blood.
Here's Cain and Stevenson
going at the goal!
Anders Cain absolutely...
- What are you doing?!
- (McCauley): levels the
Newark goalie and Stevenson.
- Fuck me!
- Now Cain draws a crowd.
Cain decks one, decks two.
And Cain stood up to the world.
- Your kid finally got suspended, OK?
He's destroying this team.
- What's that?
You heard me, you little shit.
- Tread lightly, Ron.
- Hyrum, did you not see
the same fucking hockey game
that I saw last night?
Did you see that game?
- Yeah, I did. I saw compete.
It was misdirected, but I saw compete.
- The dressing room's in
the shitter. It's tighter
than a nun's cunt in
there. There's no chatter;
the boys feel like they're
on the chopping block.
- They... they need someone
to pull 'em together.
And time after time after time,
he's proven he's not the fucking guy.
- Oh, what? So it's my fault the fucking
amateur-hour limp-dick...
- Anders!
What about Doug?
- Doug, Doug?!
- Maybe I was wrong about him.
I saw him at the shit show the
other night. He looked mean.
- What? Really? - (Hyrum): Yeah.
- We thought he was done.
- Yeah, 'cause I fucking made him done.
- Alright. Alright. Well then,
maybe we bring him back to practice, eh?
And we'll give him a shot,
see if he's got what it takes.
But we saw what he did to him;
so what's that dressing room
gonna look like with him and Glatt in it?
- I think we should find out.
- Fuck me!
- Fuck you then, 'cause we're doing it.
(car honking) (rock music)
(indistinct chatter)
- Baby, it's nice to have you here
Right now
Baby, it's nice to feel you near
- Oh, my Lordy! It's Doug!
- Jesus, Stevie, you fell in the garbage.
- (Stevenson): I'm OK.
- Welcome back, Dougie.
- Welcome home, Dougie.
- Welcome home, Doug.
- Thanks, bud.
- Number 69.
Now we're talking.
- Fucking right.
- OK, boys.
This is a big day. First
off, we're gonna welcome back
Dougie. We're gonna see if
he's fit enough to play. Right?
(applause and cheering)
- Fucking right! - Good luck, bud.
- Thank you, guys.
I'm so happy to be back
here and have a chance to...
to... be back here?
- (whispering): It's good. OK!
I'm so fucking excited to tell you this.
Favourite part of the practice for me:
puke time, suicides.
- Let's give her.
- Lace 'em up.
- Hand of iron.
- Let's go, boys!
- Jew of iron.
- Sorry, I smell like garbage.
- Ha!
- See you out there.
- So glad to see you,
man. I totally thought
you were transitioning.
- You're not home.
Your fucking jersey, you
idiot. you're not home.
Shouldn't have come back, Doug.
Shouldn't have come back...
- They gave you my C.
- I think you gave me your C, bud.
- Captain doesn't cheap shot...
Doesn't try to end careers.
- You think you're a hockey
player? That's fucking funny.
(Anders laughing) (sinister music)
See, Doug... I just do
whatever my team needs me to do.
See you out there, bud.
- Hmm.
- You look good. Your face looks better.
- OK, lads. Some of "youse"
have a little rust. (Anders sniffling)
We're gonna work some of that
rust off right fucking now.
OK? We're gonna play some shutdown hockey.
- Let's keep it clean, fellas.
You're all on the same team here.
- OK? (clanking)
(rock music) Jesus fucking Christ.
- Don't mind me.
- We won't. Let's go!
- Let's go around, boys.
The pattern. Good job.
- Move your feet, boys! Move your feet!
- Don't get poked!
- MOVE IT!
- Keep your head up! (indistinct shouting)
- Fuck off! Dammit! Fuck it!
- Whoo!
- Come on, man!
(rock music)
- Nice, Dougie.
- Good job!
(cheering)
- Yeah!
- The old boys are looking good.
- Fuck!
- Nice, Dougie!
- Whoo!
- Fuck!
- Next goal wins!
- "Next goal wins," what
is this? Street hockey?
- Car!
- Let's get up, baby! Hustle!
- Let's go! Let's go! (rock music)
- Anders, work! They're
making you look bad!
- Game on!
- Mom's got hot chocolate at our place after.
- Loser brings an orange
ball from Canadian Tire!
- "Next goal wins" is a thing. That's...
that's not just road hockey;
that... that is a thing.
- Whoo! -
Hey-hey-hey-hey!
Hey! - Come on! You're gonna
fucking turtle on me?
- Hey!
- Come on, Dougie, round two.
- Puck's at your feet!
You play to the whistle!
- Come on, Dougie. Come on!
- Dougie, here!
- Shoot the puck, boys!
- The fuck!
(cheering)
- There you go! Next goal wins it, right?
- Hahaha! Go, Dougie!
- Haha!
- Fuck!
- Jesus Christ, man!
- Hey, Hyrum, what kind of
marshmallows do you like?
- Go fuck yourself.
- Boys, bring it in.
Good hustle, eh? Good hustle, heart;
that's what it takes to win. You guys
are getting first shift tonight. Belchy,
you nut, don't wander. You're starting.
- Fucking right, Coach.
It's Canadian fucking hockey!
- OK. Dougie. Welcome back, son.
(sticks hitting ice)
- Hear, hear.
- Welcome back. Pump.
- Boys!
(indistinct PA system message)
- Doug! Where were you? They
called our names to go in.
- I'm sorry, Eva. I'll
explain when I'm less sweaty.
Hey, triceratops.
It's my favourite dinosaur.
Remember how I keep saying that work is fun
and there's all these documents?
Well, that's, like, only half true,
because it's not fun. At all.
I just don't think that the
insurance bug has truly laid
its eggs inside of me. (Beep!)
- OK.
So...
I mean, who said you had to sell insurance?
I never told you that.
And I only got you those
bloody business cards
'cause I was trying to
be cute or some shit.
- The Highlanders still need me.
- We're supposed to
be doing this together,
like a team. Neither of us are
just making decisions
for ourselves anymore.
A lot of shit affects both of us.
- (doctor): Ahem!
(touching music) (heart beating)
- Look at her. Look at what we did.
- Yeah.
She looks like a beautiful,
tiny mushroom person.
- She's so cool.
Just... it was different
watching you beat the piss out of guys
before I actually knew you. I mean,
I fucking loved it, obviously.
Part of what made me dig
you in the first place.
But the fucking very moment
I fell in love with you,
it got scary.
Now you're my husband, and...
we've got...
This is big shit, Doug.
- I know it is.
- I love you
and if you wanna do something, then...
I'm with you.
But I can't be scared shitless
every time you go out there.
So what I mean is
if you wanna be a Highlander again,
then go and be a Highlander again.
I'll support you,
but you have to do one thing for me.
- I would do anything for you, Eva.
- Don't fight.
- What?
- I've seen you make hits
and kill penalties and block shots
with your face.
I'm trying, but you gotta meet me halfway,
and... and not fight.
And you're more than that.
- OK.
- Thank you, Doug.
- Thank you, Eva.
- Come on, you can't quit on me now!
What about all our adventures?
Remember that one time I
thought you had a watch?
Are you just gonna throw that away?
- Sorry, Bob Forbes. I don't know
anything about documents.
- What, you think I do?! Somebody gives me
a document, I go hmm-hmm,
give it to another guy!
It's how insurance works!
God dammit!
Oh!
Ah, I can't say I'm not sad to see you go,
but if you change your mind, just know
you always got a spot here
in the storage shed, Dennis.
He's, he's staying. No, he's gone. Shit.
Aaaah!
Always driving away the ones you love.
Yeah, that ought to hold. Jesus Christ!
Ugh! Ah!
- Let me try you love Yes
babe, I'm waiting please don't stop
(cell phone dinging) Hey
guys, all your love forever
Let me try you love Yes babe,
I'm waiting please don't stop
Hey guys, all your love forever
- Hey. How's your arm?
- Good. Thank you. How's your arm?
- Listen, uh, everybody's rusty
their first game. It's OK. OK?
(Laflamme clicks his tongue)
- Fuck.
- (together): Belchy!
- We are very much happy
you are playing again.
- This is our gift to you. Sandwich.
- This is you upon receipt of sandwich.
- Smiling?
- Mm-hmm.
- Happy cartoon.
- Fucking A, man. That
feels fucking right.
We needed this, man. You two
fucking buffoons are standing there
with your giant dicks.
I mean, that's a fucking
sturgeon, man. Jesus
Christ! I tell ya, man,
I always think you're gonna
fucking prank me or whatever,
you know, or you're gonna say your shit
about my fucking mom, which, you know...
- No, no, no, no. We
respect your mother now.
She's becoming very open-minded.
- Yeah, man. Alright.
She's been working on that.
- Mm
- hmm. Big cream pie,
pearl fucking necklace.
- Golden showers,
double penetration.
- Double penetration.
No butt, just vagina.
Two penis, one hole.
- Yes. Worm, worm...
- (together): kisses.
- Deep inside your mother.
Ay, ay, ay, ay...
- (both): Ohhh!
- The fuck is that?! Worm,
worm? Fuck, you two, man!
- You understand. We are brothers;
we power-fuck your mother.
- You know, I'm an idiot
for fucking even trusting you
for a second, you Ruski
fucking pricks. The best revenge
is living well. I'm not
stooping to your fucking level.
- The mayonnaise is semen.
- What?!
- Semen.
- You know, ejaculate.
- (Duffy): Doug Blatt is
a Highlander once more.
With just a quarter of the
season left, Hyrum Cain seems
to be trying a hail-Mary
move by bringing back a man
known for his fists and,
frankly, not much else.
- No. Considering this will be Glatt's
first hockey game since being
knocked out by his now teammate,
the currently suspended
Anders Cain, this should make
for an interesting
locker-room dynamic
and even more awkward
Cain-family Boxing Day. I mean,
that household is a fucking disaster.
- Just read the prompter, man.
- No. I say what I want, James,
because I got a pair of
balls, not two pieces of pussy.
- How long is this gonna happen for?
- For as long as it takes.
SportsDesk, we'll
take as long as it takes.
(audio feedback) SportsDesk,
fuck yeah. (SportsDesk theme music)
- Alright, OK. Fuck it.
- Ah! Off the belly!
In the ear!
- Ow! Alright, no.
- Doug with that big dick!
- (McCauley): With just 20 games left in the regular season...
- Too much?
- It's not...
- (McCauley): Still on the bubble.
The Halifax faithful are hoping
the Thug can do his part to
get them back to the playoffs.
To the St. John's Shamrocks.
The Shamrocks bring it
out of their own zone.
Here's the pass up
the wing. Oh, baby!
Doug Glatt's return
continues to electrify
his crowd and his team.
(indistinct hip-hop song)
St. John still with a man
advantage. Laflamme getting up,
getting ready to go.
Anders Cain, no help
tonight as he has been suspended.
Five seconds to go on the
St. John's power play,
and somehow, Halifax
have been able to keep
this game tied at zero.
Now, Laflamme steps out
on the ice. Halifax
with the heat on.
Carlson looking back, takes the puck
at the blue line. Now, Carlson,
he's got a cannon, he winds it up.
Oh boy! Everyone, check
your asses for monkeys!
Xavier Laflamme blocking a shot?
Now with it is Stevenson.
Stevenson moves down
deep into the corner.
- Oh, you're crying. What's
that, you little bitch? Huh?
(indistinct taunting)
- I'm so exhausted!
Gatorade!
- Where's the puck?
- (McCauley): And now Glatt
decides, I'm a little thirsty.
- Ref, ref, ref!
- Sorry, bud, I'm super thirsty.
- Meanwhile, Stevenson
comes out of the corner.
He scores! (crowd cheering)
- He fucking drank it! He
took that fucking bottle!
- Yeah!
- (McCauley): Well, I suppose there's no rule
about drinking the
opposing team's Gatorade,
but perhaps after
tonight, there should be.
- Hahaha! You scored with Gatorade, man!
He's so mad!
- (McCauley): Highlanders win
thanks to the unquenchable
thirst of a man
they call the Thug.
(electronic music)
- Good for you, kid.
Good for you.
- Boys,
got a little heat going down, right?
So we're gonna take that heat into Reading,
and we're gonna burn
their fucking flesh off,
like fucking flamethrowers!
- Sir.
- Yes?
- OK, for the last time,
I'm gonna have to ask you
to lower your voice.
OK? Just...
- So will you take that for me, would you?
- Nope, not in first class.
We don't take your... anything.
- Alright. Alrighty.
- Just have a seat there.
- Sit down? Sure.
- Yes, sir, that would be wonderful. Thank you very much.
And if you could just remain seated,
Oh, for fuck sake! (men
urinating and grunting)
- Hey, Belchy,
come see! This toilet
looks just like your mother.
- Mmm! Only markedly less toilet
- like.
(Russians groaning) (woman complains)
- Oh, my God, you guys are...
Get the fuck out of here, man!
(man laughing)
- (woman): Disgusting!
- (whispering): Hey, I'm not done.
What...
- No.
- (whispering): She said no.
We're gonna skate in there.
I wanna show those translucent, Rust-belt
weirdos how we play hockey...
- I swear!
- North of the border.
- Yeah, OK.
- (whispering): Highlanders.
- (team, whispering): Highlanders.
Highlanders. Highlanders.
- OK, but that is still
making us uncomfortable.
- (team, whispering):
Highlanders. Highlanders.
Highlanders. Highlanders.
- God, it smells like dick.
- (team whispering):
Highlanders. Highlanders.
Highlanders. Highlanders.
- Stay in school. Highlanders.
- (McCauley): Three minutes left in the
third, and the Highlanders' hot streak
is in danger of coming to an end
as they trail the Wolfdogs
3 to 2. A win tonight
would see them just one spot
outside playoffs' contention.
Oh, my uncles are dead! Anders
Cain looks in front, turns.
Oh! Waxman's Murphy
bed! Cain scores!
And it's tied 3-3. Great goal
by Anders Cain to keep
the dream alive.
- They're gonna be throwing
everything at us now, but the kitchen sink.
You, Flamer, do what you did last game.
Stesy, take his lead.
Yeah, yeah. Dougie, listen
to me. You watch their backs.
You keep your head in the fucking
game. Handle the big man. See him?
Send a message. Wake
'em up, Doug. Go, go, go!
- Don't go start a shit you can't finish.
- (McCauley): Coach Ronnie Hortense had a
few words for Doug Glatt who hasn't fought
since he came back two weeks ago.
(dramatic music) He goes
straight toward Totan.
- You are popping me.
- (McCauley): Moe Totan.
- (Bailey): He's so enormous.
- Oy vey.
- (McCauley): Off the
faceoff, the puck goes back
into the Wolfdogs' zone. Now,
it's in at the centre ice.
Turned over by Laflamme.
Laflamme looks across,
finds Stevenson. Stevenson dumps it
deep into the Wolfdogs'
territory. The puck goes
around now to Totan.
- (coach): Here we go!
- (McCauley): Here comes
Glatt right at Totan!
Oh! And he misses completely!
- Fuck! Shit!
- It looks like he's in
pain on his right side.
Starting the other way,
the Reading Wolfdogs
with an opportunity
for the go-ahead goal.
The puck is gliding
across the blue line.
He scores!
- NOOOO!
- FUCK! FUCK!
- (McCauley): Reading win.
And with just 10 games
left in the season,
the Highlanders seem to have
found a way to rescue defeat
from the jaws of victory.
- Pretty good, Dougie!
- Come on, Doug. (sigh)
- I don't wanna hear it. Let's
go! Let's fucking go! Nats!
(man talking indistinctly)
(indistinct chatter)
- Did you watch the game?
- Yeah.
(Doug sighing)
- You said it could be
scary watching me out there.
Was it scary?
- I mean, I don't like watching
you get hurt, so yeah, a little.
- Ah!
- Oh!
God, Jesus! Are you OK?
- Yeah.
Maybe you shouldn't watch the next one.
- Yeah.
Alright.
- When I wake up
Yours I'd slip in
(engine revving up)
- (McCauley): Halfway
through the third,
the Highlanders are fighting
for their postseason lives
on Fan Appreciation Night.
A shot blocked by Laflamme.
- Attaboy, Flamer!
- (McCauley): What a
contribution he's made.
Now Laflamme sees Walters' coming.
And Walters sucker punched him.
But he gets up. He
appears to be alright.
- Let go of his arm, Ref!
- (McCauley): Walters is sent
to the penalty box.
- Come on, Pat!
- (McCauley): And he
is none too impressed.
- (announcer): Number 28, Tim
Walters: 2 minutes for roughing.
8 minutes 51 seconds
- Fuck!
- You OK?
- Yeah, I'm alright. Thanks.
- OK, now we're gonna take
this fucking power play,
and we're gonna shove it up
their fucking sphincters. No K-Y!
And when we're done with that,
and that ugly piece of shit
gets out of that fucking box,
we're gonna give him a
piece of our mind. OK, boys?
- I can do that, sir. I can give
him a piece of all of our minds.
- No, he fucking can't.
His arm's all fucked up.
- I'm fine. I can do this.
- He can't fucking fight anybody.
- Jesus Christ, boys, what's going on?
(grunt) Not now, kiddo. Not now.
- (McCauley): Anders Cain
is coming right across
from the bench to the deck.
- Huh? You wanna go?
- Yeah, come on.
- Yeah? Any time, tough guy!
- I'll fucking go right on
and knock your fucking teeth
down your throat.
- Yeah, bring it on!
I'll tear your fucking head
off for a pure meat stick.
- (Anders): You're so fucking pissed, a fucking meat stick.
- Stevesy, you're up.
- (McCauley): And now there's action,
meanwhile, over at the Highlander bench.
And here comes Doug Glatt. Hortense
calls him back. Glatt, come back here!
- (McCauley): Uh - oh! It looks
like we may finally get to see
the Thug drop his gloves after all.
- Anytime! Oh, you too?
- The fuck you're doing here?
- What are you doing
here? This is my here!
- (McCauley): And now both
Glatt and Cain push and shove.
- What the fuck you mean
it's your here?! It's my here!
- I'll let both you guys in.
- My fucking!
Fuck!
- (McCauley): And down goes Cain
with Glatt on top.
- What am I looking at?
- Fuck! What the fuck is this?!
- I don't know. I don't know.
- I don't even want to fight
anymore; you killed the mood.
- Dougie, why are you dry humping, Anders?
- Get off me!
- I'm trying. I don't want this!
- You're on the same fucking team, man!
- Fuck! This is horrible!
It's fucking horrible!
- It is. It is.
- Fuck! Fuck!
- (McCauley): I would like to remind fans
that should they still desire, they can
meet the Highlanders in person
tonight at the Corktown Pub
for Fan Appreciation Night.
- (crowd): Doug! Doug!
Doug! Doug! Doug! Doug!
- (pub crowd): Doug! Doug! Doug!
Doug! Doug! Doug!
- (man): You fucking son,
we fucking hate you!
- (man): Anders, you
piece of fucking shit!
- You know what? I fucking know it.
- What the fuck is wrong with you now?
- You know it too.
I beat the shit out of Doug Glatt.
- Take it easy.
- You fucking take it easy!
I fucking destroyed him.
- Calm down, man.
- Get your fucking hands off me!
- Hey!
- Anders!
(indistinct pop song playing in the pub)
- I beat you.
Don't look at them, you
dumb fuck; look at me.
- Anders...
- I am here, now,
me, right fucking in front of you!
(grunting and yelling)
- That will blow your nerves.
- Come on, Doug.
- Doug! That's enough!
- That's it.
- Knock it off, guys. Chill!
(indistinct chatter)
- I'm fine. Fucking fine!
- Good. Chill out, man.
- He's a freak.
(crowd gasping)
- Cheap shot!
(men growling)
- Anders, that's enough!
- Come on, Doug!
- Doug!
(man doing clucking sound)
- God!
- Anders, it's over. It's over.
- Get out!
- Walk him out.
- Shit!
(dramatic music)
- Early reports coming
in of a bar brawl tonight
at a popular Halifax Highlanders'
hangout allegedly involving
the Highlanders themselves
in what could be just
another example of violence
dogging the team. This coming
just weeks after controversial
hockey-fighting competition Bruised
and Battered held its most recent event
at the Highlanders' home barn,
the Halifax Metro Centre.
With two must-win
games left to play,
and Cain and Glatt each
serving suspensions,
one can't help but wonder
if GM Hyrum Cain has
any more tricks up his sleeve.
(boat horn)
- (Eva): You broke your promise.
- I was scared.
Never felt that before.
He was wearing my C.
- Are you fucking kidding me?!
That's the best you can do?
I... I gave up stuff I liked doing too.
- It's different; you've never had a team.
Yeah.
Yeah, maybe you're right.
Maybe, maybe I never did.
- I can still do what I'm
supposed to, I can still fight.
- I guess that's a fucking problem.
- Eva.
- And yet the worst part is
you're making me into this
fucking, naggy housewife.
And do you think I want to be fucking...
worrying about you? You think I wanna
be giving you shit?
I don't. This isn't who I am.
- Eva, please... Where are you going?
- I'm not going anywhere.
(emotional music)
- I eat this soup.
- Yes, I know. That's why I'm...
(sigh)
I just need some time, Doug.
- Dad, I'm fucking sorry.
OK, I'm sorry. I fuck... I fucked up.
Fuck. I wanna win.
I wanna...
- Your contract's been terminated.
- Uh... I'm sorry, what?
- You're on a flight at 10 p.m. tonight.
No?
(Anders sniffling)
What are you doing?
The fuck out of my face.
You wanna swing at me?
- You wanna swing at me?
(three slaps)
You're a fucking pussy.
- I was waiting
- I'm just saying.
You're pissed at Doug because
he's a hockey player...
and he wants to plays hockey?
- He was fucking
bareknuckle prizefighting, too. Jesus!
Whose side are you on?
(Mary sniffing) We both agreed to do this,
and we both gave shit up.
This is what growing up is.
I
- I... I had shit that I liked doing too.
(stifled laugh)
- Jagerbombs?
Look, I know you sacrificed things.
I mean, you have a fucking baby
growing in your belly. I get it!
I just... I think that Doug's...
team is more than just hockey, you know?
- Besides, I just get lonely
- More than a team, even.
- (Duffy): Highlanders'
GM, Hyrum Cain, confirming
that Anders Cain has been
released from his contract.
- Let this be a lesson to
everyone out there. Your father
will break your heart and shove it down
your fucking throat, pull it out your ass,
put it right back in your chest.
- (Duffy): No word yet on
whether Hyrum Cain plans
to replace Anders as the
Highlanders round out
their season with must-win games
at home against the Lovell Kings
and Anders' old team,
the Reading Wolfdogs.
(soft rock song Fly At
Night by Chilliwack)
(indistinct chatter)
(man talking indistinctly)
- Stevesy, Legs, Gino, you
know what you need to do.
Eat up minutes, grind the shit out of them,
make them fuck up.
Tonight, we need to play
fucking hard! Right, boys?
- Yeah.
- ALRIGHT, BOYS?
- YEAH!
- Alright! Fucking do this.
- (Ross): So, you pussies
playing hockey or what?
- Wow.
(bell tolling)
- I messed up, Pat.
You know, I really like
living with you in the motel,
but I just kind of want to go home now.
- Yeah? No, I get that. It's, uh...
(Pat sniffling) ...it's
definitely not the Ritz,
but so long as Sherilyn owns
it, it's a bed and it's free,
thanks to that deal I cut with her.
- What kind of deal? (slurping sound)
- Fucking the shit out of her constantly.
- Your cousin Sherilyn?
- I don't think I'm the
only dude she's fucking...
but then she's not the
only dude I'm fucking.
(phone ringing and buzzing)
- Eva? Hello?
- Uh, hey. Doug, um...
- Eva, hello. It's me, Doug Glatt.
- Doug, where are you?
- Eva, I'm sorry I broke my promise.
I shouldn't have done
that because we're a team.
I'm so in love with you.
We're gonna have a family, and I swear...
- Uh, Doug, my water broke.
- It's OK. I can just buy you
another one at the gas station.
- No! No! My water broke!
The baby... Uh, the baby's coming.
- What?!
What-what-what?! What?!
What-what-what-what? What?
What? Now? Wait, what? What?
- And Mary's at the store, at
the store, so I'm all alone.
- No, you're not. Like the
baby, I am also coming now.
- OK. OK.
- Holy pussy-cunt-balls,
it's happening!
- Just keep your eyes on the road, please.
- So sorry, so sorry, but...
Eva, I just gotta tell you,
you, my dear, are gonna look
fucking radiant during childbirth.
- I'm so sorry. OK, from now on,
whatever we do, we do as a team, OK?
- You know there's
just this natural beauty
that comes from such a
violent act. The blood
and the fucking pussy ripping open.
- Yeah, I'm gonna be the best
husband and the best father I can be.
- I'll just say it. To me,
no woman, no fucking woman
is more beautiful than
when she's giving birth.
- Uh, guys, that's great. Could
we have no talking for a bit?
- Yeah, of course, whatever you need.
(honking)
- Hey! God dammit!
What the fuck? What? Is
everyone in the city Chinese?
- (McCauley): Oh no!
Down goes Stevenson.
- Jesus Christ! (indistinct
rock song playing)
Come on, boys! This is not
how we kill a fucking penalty!
- Come on, Stevesy,
you're good, you're good!
- Flamer, come on, come on.
- (Laflamme): Watch your point.
- Sit down. Rest that fucking ass.
- (player): Let's go, boys.
- (coach): Where the fuck is he?
- (McCauley): Hortense keeps looking
over toward the dressing room.
(indistinct rock song)
- Breathe, Eva. Breathe.
OK?
- (Eva): OK.
- Deep slow breaths.
- (Doug): Breathe, Eva, breathe!
(man grunting)
- AAAAH!
- (McCauley): Lovell and Halifax.
Now, Laflamme goes after
the puck in the corner.
He takes it in behind.
Here comes Owens.
And down goes Laflamme.
Now, Owens is bumped by... (whistle)
Ross Rhea?
- Nice hit, eh?
- Better late than never.
- (McCauley): Ross Rhea
is back! (Eva panting)
- (doctor): One last big
push you got for me, Eva?
- (McCauley): He's back as a Highlander.
- You know, Sean,
generally, it's polite to ask.
- Go watch some curling
and get a fucking dye job, you old man.
- Fuck you!
- Come on, Eva.
- (doctor): That's it. OK, Eva, home stretch.
- AAAAAAAAAH!
- (McCauley): Ross Rhea
fires that patented right.
- AAAAAAAAH!
- I can't sleep
tonight (baby crying)
I can't sleep tonight
It's the saddest lie
(grunting)
- (McCauley): We thought he was gone.
- Old man, eh?
- And he's back in style.
- Oh oh oooh oooh (baby cooing)
I can't sleep tonight
I can't sleep tonight
(babies crying)
(man snoring and farting)
- Pat.
- Hey, hey, hey.
(gasping and clapping)
- Yeah! (man laughing)
- Doug. Dougie had a baby. Fucking sweet!
- Nice shot, man.
- Good shooting, man.
- Let me know if you're
not gonna keep it, OK?
- Yeah, we're gonna keep it.
- Let me know.
- (player): Yeah, Dougie.
- Fucking weirdo.
Is everyone OK in there?
- Everybody's great.
Welcome to the Highlanders.
- Looks like I'm not done after all, eh?
Mazel tov, kiddo. (phone ringing)
- Heyyyy.
A dick explodes, a baby is
made, and a father is born.
I love you.
- All these kisses.
- I will love your baby.
- Thank you so much.
It's so nice.
- I'm a great babysitter, so...
Not that you... Oh, OK.
- You have my back.
You have since we've met.
And you need to know
I'll always have yours.
Something for the baby.
- Oh! Oh! Heehee!
(touching music)
- It's official.
That's official.
- Here you go, Dougie.
(indistinct chatter)
- Love you, buddy.
- Flicitations.
- Way to go, Dougie.
- Good boy!
(speaking in Slovak)
- Doug.
- Thank you.
(small chuckle)
I don't know who he is.
(Eva sighing) (distant baby crying)
I love you, Eva.
I love you too, Doug.
Hmm.
(Eva chuckling)
Dammmmn.
I'm high as fucking balls.
Just big old balls.
PS: fucking pushing a baby
out of your vagina blows hard.
- I know.
- But you were here.
I needed you and you were here.
(poignant music)
It's the same shit, Doug.
The same shit that brought you here
is the shit that needs you to be out there.
They need you too.
Highlanders need you.
Mm-hmm. Doug,
you need to be out there.
- (Duffy): This is it! The
last game of the season!
The Highlanders need one
more win after their gutsy
2-1 victory over Lovell.
- (Bailey): And now tonight,
their entire season hangs
on this one last game,
which should be a doozy
as it marks Cain's return
to the Halifax Metro Centre
in his first game back since
re-signing with the Wolfdogs.
- (reporter): Any message
for your former teammates?
- Watch your back.
- Cain's gonna be out there.
- Fuck Cain.
The shape your shoulder's in, you tweak it,
you throw one heavy punch with that right,
that's your career fucked for good.
- I need to protect my
team. (bagpipe music)
We're on a very busy night in here.
Xavier... you've been
whatever this team has needed you to be.
You've worked, bled.
(orchestral music)
- Ahem! I, uh...
I unstitched it from Cain's jersey.
It's yours now. You've earned it.
(applause) - We're all glad for you.
- (coach): Flamer, come on.
- Hey, you earned it.
- Come on!
- Speech! (emotional sigh)
- I learned the
difference between a moment
and a career is evolution.
Evolution.
You will slow down.
You will get old.
Your body will fail you.
So you evolve,
you change your game,
you do what you need to
do with the time you got.
If not, you go extinct.
(crowd cheering)
Evolve or go extinct.
Are you ready to go extinct?
- No, I'm not.
- No fucking way.
- Are you fucking extinct?
- No!
- No.
- No, I'm not. Absolutely not.
- Well, I'm still here.
I'm not ready to go fucking extinct!
The Highlanders are still here!
- Yeah, we are.
- The fucking Highlanders
are here!
- Yes! Yes!
- (together): Highlanders! Highlanders!
Highlanders!
Highlanders! Highlanders! (Petrov laughing)
Highlanders!
Highlanders! Highlanders!
Highlanders! Highlanders!
- Alright, boys!
Let's do this! Come on! (rock music)
- (McCauley): This is
it, folks. It's do or die
for the Highlanders
tonight. Their entire season
comes down to this one game.
It's that simple. (crowd cheering)
- (spectator) Alright, Ross! Ross!
- Fuck 'em up!
- Come on!
- Which one do you
want? I got the big one.
Ah, fuck it, I want both of them.
- It's open season on all your
fucking boys tonight, Doug.
- I don't have to fight you.
- Yeah, you do.
- (McCauley): So it's a must
win for the Halifax Highlanders.
There's no tomorrow if they don't.
(rock music)
- I've got some changes here.
Flamer, Dougie, Rhea off the hop.
Legs and Gino on the
backend. (siren and whistle)
- OK, boys, let's go! To get this
is focus. They're gonna try and
taunt us. Don't look for shit!
- (McCauley): Yeah, Doug Glatt
comes out to take the opening
faceoff alongside Ross
Rhea. Former combatants.
- Hey, big fella. You like Kim Mitchell?
That's what I thought.
Alright, we're fucking going.
(blowing whistle 4 times) Alright, here
we go. What the fuck did I just say?
- Coach said, "Don't look
for shit," that's shit.
- I bet you don't like Rush
either, you fucking big lipback.
- He's looking for shit. God
dammit, laid him right out.
- Jesus Christ! What are they feeding ya?
A lot of fucking pierogis, eh?
Easy, big fella. Alright, here we go.
- (McCauley): Well, folks, big girls may not cry...
- What about that, eh?
- (McCauley): but big
men from Eastern Europe
apparently bleed a lot.
- That's fucking right!
I can do this all night, boys.
- (crowd): Ross! Ross! Ross!
- You're gonna leave this
building in an ambulance.
- I'm sorry, Point Break, you say something?
- Rossy! Rossy, no, no.
- Come on, you can come play.
- (coach): It's over, go to the box.
- No? Alright.
You sure? Oh, no,
he doesn't want to fucking play. Let's go.
(grunting)
(dramatic music)
- (McCauley): So off the
faceoff, the puck is dropped.
It goes back to Anders
Cain, the former captain
of the Halifax Highlanders.
Bounces off a check.
Pulls up the right wing.
Both running on goal!
Trying to bang it by
Belchior. Runs into him,
and they count the
goal. Should it count?
- Where's the fucking whistle?!
- Where the fuck's the whistle?!
- Cheap fucking goal.
- (McCauley): So the Highlanders down 1
- nothing
in the second period.
Again, they have to win.
And here comes Laflamme
dancing up the centre ice.
Laflamme makes a
move. Dipsy-doodle!
Can't storm the front of
the net. Flips it back.
Yeah, kabooya, he
scores! (crowd cheering)
- Yes! Yes. (baby giggling)
- (McCauley): Beautiful goal!
Evgeni Yakovlena had a great...
- (announcer): And the new
goal scored by number 6,
Evgeni Yakovlena!
- (McCauley): So it's 1
- 1 in the second period.
Here once again is
Laflamme. Against the...
OH! He's been hammered.
- That's bullshit!
- I'll get him right now.
- No, you've done enough for the night, Ross.
- Fucking asshole!
- We'll get him.
It's fucking bullshit.
- He's a fucking lunatic!
- (McCauley): Now, the puck
finds its way to Glatt.
They're normally strangers.
- Dougie!
- (McCauley): Holy cow!
- Jesus!
- Thanks, X.
- (McCauley): Did you see that?!
- That's captain X!
- (McCauley): It was Laflamme
who ran into and decked Cain.
- Flamer's loaded for bear.
- (McCauley): Here comes Laflamme, makes
a move around the defender, who's riding
on the goal. Magic hand shot!
Great save by Nikola!
- Rossy, watch Flamer's back.
Do what you gotta do,
but keep it clean, OK?
- (McCauley): Six minutes
left in the third period.
Halifax and Reading still
tied at a goal apiece.
- Take ice away. Come on!
- With it is Anders Cain.
Cain gets it over to Totan.
- Get on the puck!
- (McCauley): Totan looks
back, returns it to Cain.
(crowd booing)
- What is this you're doing? Make shoot.
- (McCauley): Cain
seems to be in the midst
of some sort of
psycho-athletic fugue state.
- Fucking make shoot. (suspenseful music)
- Ah!
- (crowd): Ohhh!
- (McCauley): Mother of God!
- Holy snap-on arseholes!
- What's he doing?
- Right off his rocker.
- What the fuck?!
- (McCauley): Cain seems to
have actually fired the puck
into his father's
lodge accommodations.
(red blowing whistle twice)
- You're gonna call that or what?
- (McCauley): Now, Anders
Cain takes a shot at Laflamme.
Laflamme pushes back at Cain and Ross
Rhea... Keep your hands to yourself!
- (McCauley): steps in.
Cain gives him a right.
- What the fuck is that?
- I'm gonna teach you some fucking manners.
- (McCauley): Cain is livid.
He has gone absolutely bonkers
in this game here tonight. Now,
he goes to the penalty box.
So does Ross Rhea.
- (woman): Fuck you, Cain!
- (announcer): From Halifax,
number 3, Ross Rhea.
From Reading, number
13, Anders Cain.
- Getting tired?
- Kid, I'm always tired.
- Because you're an old piece of shit.
- You got me there.
This old piece of shit is gonna
take your fucking head off.
(crowd cheering)
- Rhea!
Get your ass back to the
bench. Gonna kill this thing.
(dramatic music)
- Good luck, kid.
- (McCauley): The two combatants
step back out on the ice.
- Where are you going?!
What are you doing?!
- (McCauley): And immediately, Rhea begins to chase Cain.
- Rhea!
- (McCauley): Puck is still
in Reading's territory.
Now it's knocked back
to the blue line.
Here's a shot. The save is
made. Puck goes into the corner.
Rhea goes in after it.
- Anders, no.
- And going after Rhea is Cain!
- (crowd): Ohhh!
- Nooo!
- I told you you'd end
up in a fucking ambulance.
- You fucking piece of shit!
- Get the fuck
out of here, Cain!
- (McCauley): Rhea is down.
He's bloodied! He may
well be unconscious.
- COME ON!
- Fuck off, you...
- Let's get the board out.
Let's get him on the stretcher.
- (McCauley): They're
bringing out the stretcher.
Rhea is down, folks. He's bleeding.
(crowd chatter) This
doesn't look good.
(dramatic music)
(sigh)
- Dougie.
- Shit!
- Hey, up, back down.
- (McCauley): Ladies and
gentlemen, Doug "the Thug" Glatt
is entering the fray.
He's making a beeline
for Anders Cain.
This could only mean one thing.
- I thought you didn't
need to fight me, Doug.
- (Ross): Lay him the fuck out, kid.
(dramatic music)
- Doug.
- This is for someone else.
(grunting)
(crowd cheering) (fighting exertions)
- (McCauley): Caine and Glatt going
at each other one after the other.
One, two, three.
- Aaah!
- (McCauley): Oh! He hammers Glatt!
- Fuck!
- (McCauley): Blood spews!
And these guys are being
left to their own devices.
- Yes!
- These men are wild!
They're crazy! There's
blood everywhere!
- Attaboy, Dougie.
I'm glad you came back, Doug! Come on!
(Anders roaring)
Aaaargh!
- (McCauley): Oh, blood and gore
all over the floor!
- Oh! Fuck!
- (McCauley): The
linesmen are nowhere
to be seen. You can't blame them.
(Doug panting)
(crowd gasping)
- Oh!
(bubbly, cracking noise)
- (crowd, chanting): Doug!
- Do it. Do it, Doug.
- Take his fucking head off!
- (Anders, whispering): Do it.
Do it.
- No.
It's over. (crowd cheering)
(dramatic music)
- It's never over.
We're gonna do this night after night.
Game... after fucking game.
(dramatic music) You hear me, Doug?
Game...
after fucking game.
Look up there, Doug. (cracking sound)
(heartbeat sound) Look at 'em.
This is it!
This is
what they want us to do.
- I'm doing whatever
my team needs me to do. We're just gonna
keep fucking bleeding out here...
- Oh, Doug.
- Over and over again
until they cart
every fucking last one of us
off the fucking ice!
- Doug!
- Dougie!
(cracking noise) (Doug groaning in pain)
(crowd cheering)
(triumphant music)
- Jesus, Doug. You OK?
- Not really, bud. Thanks for asking.
- Right there. Right there.
(high-pitched sounds)
(peaceful music)
- Anders, can you hear me? Hey, hey, hey.
(Anders coughing) It's OK.
- I fucking...
hate this sport.
(Anders laughing)
- One, two, three. (cracking noise)
- AAAARGH! Ah!
- (crowd, chanting): Doug!
- Don't hate me here.
- I don't hate you, Parky.
I could never hate you.
- (crowd): Highlanders! Highlanders!
Highlanders!
- (McCauley): There's only
seconds left and nothing is settled.
As Laflamme moves through the neutral
zone, gives it across the line.
He's got Stevenson on his
wagon. (stirring music)
- (crowd): Highlanders! Highlanders!
Highlanders!
- (McCauley): Laflamme's
now moving in toward Totan.
Five seconds left.
- Stevenson is here.
- Right winger!
- (McCauley): Laflamme
moving in on the backend.
(grandiose music)
- Excalibur!
(crowd cheering)
- (McCauley): Stevenson scores!
They did it! The Highlanders win!
The Highlanders win!
For just the second
time in ten years,
the Halifax Highlanders
are going to the playoffs.
(Turandot opera by Puccini)
- Yeah! Yeah!
Fucking A, you worthless cocksuckers!
- Bye, guys. (Turandot opera)
(rock music)
(man clearing his throat)
(man clearing his throat)
- That's when the hand job start.
Oh no, I was wrong. They're
starting early today.
No lube or nothing.
(rock song in background)
- Give it to him, Johnny!
Masturbate that penis. (laughter)
The weirdest fucking job ever!
- Oh!
- (people): Ohhh!
- Sorry about that. Bad chop in the ice.
- You good?
- I'm good.
- Wow, it smells like dick.
Oh God, it smells so much like piss.
(people laughing)
- I had no response to that.
- Well, if you give me enough booze,
I'll munch a box or two. I mean...
(people laughing)
Oh, my God!
- Only two?
- A couple.
- Let's try that one more time.
- What is the line?
- Highlanders! Highlanders!
(Petrov laughing)
Alright, shut the fuck
up. (people laughing)
What did you do, man? You
had a fucking jackoff selfie
on my grandmother's grave?
You fucking inbred, Slavic,
fucking potato vampire!
Tell you, man, knowing you
and playing with you is like
being like force-fed fucking junky piss.
And you two, you're like
fucking mother Russia's herpes, man!
The bitch shipped them to
Canada and fucking made me
deal with 'em.
- Belchy!
- He gets it! I love candy!
What? Yeah, I'll take a fucking
candy. I love fucking candy!
He fucking gets it. Fuck!
No! No more fucking candies!
- SportsDesk, we've got slogans.
SportsDesk, our slogan is a slogan.
You're watching SportsDesk.
SportsDesk, we're all pink
on the inside. (laughter)
- My fucking row! (men grunting)
Oh, fuck! Ow!
- Cut! (laughter)
- Sorry, dude, that was really awkward.
(laughter)
- Oh, man!
- The fuck you're wearing, dude?
- It's supposed to make me look big.
- Why do you shop in
little girls' section?
(laughter)
You honestly look like you're
on the fucking autobahn,
straight to gay town, man.
- On the blond bus to Analtown, huh?
You look like a little Nazi weightlifter.
(laughter)
- Power lifting fucking dongs, man.
- It's like...
- Cut!
(laughter)
- I - I guess they like him
'cause he's got, sort of,
smaller hands.
- Who wouldn't?
- You know, feels like a female's hands.
But make no mistake, that is a man.
(laughter)
- Cut!
- I'm not stooping to your fucking level.
- The mayonnaise is semen.
- What?!
- Enjoy the cannoli.
- This is so disrespectful, man!
And it better not have come
out of that fucking sturgeon.
(laughter)
- Always driving away the ones you love.
(laughter)
- I love this movie! (orchestral music)
- Hockey history is full of star players
and its backup enforcers. You
know, you got Gretzky and McSorley.
- Well, I don't know if I'm a Gretzky.
- Thank you.
- Doug... Took our fucking microphone.