(Ziigwan): I think we should change angles.
(Nat): Why?
(Ziigwan): He looks like he's not even breathing.
(Miigwan): That's hockey players.
Big personalities on the ice, but you can't pay them
to have a shart of charisma away from it.
This is so dumb.
(Ziigwan): There you go. There is some life.
(Nat): Do you think that we should showcase the teeth?
That's uniquely hockey, right? (Miigwan): I don't know.
(Nat): I think we should. (Miigwan): You think people would like that?
(Ziigwan): Worst case, they feel bad for him and they say like,
"OK, slugger, we'll come watch you play."
(Nat): Shoresy! Smile for a second.
(Ziigwan): Take the dip out of your lip.
Me? (Ziigwan): Holy fuck.
Go? Huh? (Ziigwan): Shoresy.
(Ziigwan): Is this the first time you've sat in a stool?
(Nat): Ziig. - It isn't a stool, idiot.
(Nat): Go. - Stools don't have back rests.
(Miigwan): Action!
Are you and your family looking for something fun to do
on a Sudbury Saturday night? (Nat): Ziig!
(Miigwan): OK, do it again.
Are you and your family looking for something fun to do
on a Sudbury Saturday night? (giggling)
(Nat): Ziigwan! (Miigwan): Why are you saying
"and" like that? - Because on the card,
you've got "and" written in bold.
(Ziigwan): That's italics, you dumb fuck.
Fuck you, Ziig, you fucking twat.
(Nat): You alright, Sanguinet? (Miigwan): Leave him alone.
(Ziigwan): He looks like he's in rigor mortis.
(Nat): Are you nervous or something?
A bit. (Shoresy): Sanger, you look like
someone stuck a giant Popsicle stick to your spine
and is holding you up by it. (Miigwan): Fuck you, Shoresy.
(Shoresy): Well, he looks like an idiot.
(Nat): Shut up. (Shoresy): It's like someone's
holding him like a puppet.
What's that called, a taxidermist?
(Miigwan): "Vantriloquist", you dunce.
(Ziigwan): It's actually ven-triloquist.
(Shoresy): Uh-oh, Ziig, looks like your sister's
better looking and smarter.
(Nat): Isn't it marionette?
I have to pee.
Are you and your family looking for something fun to do
on a Sudbury Saturday night?
(laughter)
(Ziigwan): The italics are fucking them up, Nat.
What're ya at, old man? (Shoresy): Hitch, you're such
a fucking beauty, I sometimes forget
what an odd-looking east coast cunt you are.
(Shoresy): Looks like he brushes his teeth with a brick, eh?
(Shoresy): Cut! - Is it Saturday Sudbury night
or Sudbury Saturday night? (Shoresy): Cut!
So now I don't say what's on the card?
- No, just-- - Huh?
Just say what you want!
Yeah, so-- (Miigwan): Don't swear!
Yeah, so, we got a different team now.
Like, even Sanger was on the last one, so.
But now, he's coach and he's 1-0 so.
So the Bulldogs aren't fu-- rigging around anymore.
The Bulldogs are gonna compete.
So, if you wanna see the new Bulldogs then...
get your bums in a seat.
Cut.
(upbeat music)
- I'm gonna put you on your ass! - For what?
Do not let him ruin it this time, Laurence.
Well, sounds like you want your dance to suck then, eh Kayla?
- Plant your feet, girl. - Huh?
- Plant your feet, girl? - Tell your uncle what's up.
- Stay here. - That's what's up.
Alright, well, I'll stay here. Sounds like you don't want
anyone watching your dance, that's fine.
We didn't even get to do the whole thing because
you were trying to stunt. - Oh, I'm just saying,
I heard some people saying they thought it lacked inclusion,
but whatever, it doesn't matter. - Fuck you, Waffle.
I'm just saying I heard some people saying they thought it lacked representation.
So I just wanted to do something so she didn't get in trouble.
Doesn't matter. - Stay!
Yeah, I'll stay here. But just so you know,
Carrie got Facebooked by some people saying they heard
Justin Timberlake was down here doing some moves or whatever,
but doesn't matter. - Fuck Facebook.
- Fucking Twitter'd or whatever. - Twitter's a cult.
Fucking Shawn Mendes or whatever.
- I'm a Belieber! - He can skate.
- Don't ruin it, Waffle. - Alright, well,
just go get me a Puppers and it's a deal.
Sup, Free? Hmm?
Looking a little anxious over there for someone who smells
like a Bob Marley fan. - Kid, don't be a tic.
Hey, Free, why don't you go smoke another joystick?
(chuckles) Hey, Free, why don't we pick up
a 40 sack, smoke a session? - Waffle.
Eh, Free? Wanna smoke a homegrown? Let's torch one.
Get you feelin' all smoochy-woochy.
Eh? Got some of that good Panatella Tommy Chong?
Mm-hmm. Got some of that Maracachefa Manteca Mafafa?
- Do your thing, pop. - Watch your mouth, Dad.
Wish me luck. Hello, luck.
Hey, Free, save me some of that swaggy. Nothing too stemmy.
Well, thank you for coming to our annual family reunion.
(cheers)
I appreciate all the highfalutin city bullshit
you've managed to put aside.
(applause) You know...
These gatherings are important because they remind ya
of where you came from and how proud you should be of where you are.
(applause)
My first foster child was the one they call Shoresy.
But the one you call... (All): Waffle.
(laughter)
As you can see,
he was full bars fat.
Well, I was a little fatso myself at the time, right?
(laughter) Which is why I assumed
they put him with me.
We were a pair of chubsy butter-wubsys, huh?
A couple of real ponchy-jumbos.
Now, being fubsy was of no consequence to me down on the farm,
but Shoresy was being teased at school
for being a roly-poly.
Well, what did they call ya?
Plupy-Dumpers, Dumpy-chubbers,
Whale-Whopper, Salad Dodger-- - Ha, full bars fat.
And I could tell he was starting to not like himself very much.
(microphone feedback)
But then, Morris came.
(all): Big Mo! Big Mo! (applause)
Now, when Morris arrived, Shoresy was eating a lot of waffles,
which was the nickname Morris gave him. And it stuck.
(all): Waffle.
He was as big as a house.
I was as big as a fucking international house of pancakes.
(laughter) - Every time you walked
into a room, there he was with a mouthful.
And a bead of sweat just dripping off his one chin.
He was snacking eight, nine waffles for breakfast.
Well, there's eight to a pack. I wouldn't crack open
a whole new pack just for a ninth Eggo.
I'd fucking add a bowl of cereal.
He was all sorts of cinnamon-roly.
He was freezing chocolate bars, crunching 'em up
with a hammer, and sprinkling 'em on his waffles.
OK, Waffle, you got a good idea there.
I was nuking 'em for a bit there too.
Well, his whole life was a sundae bar.
Melting down Butterfingers in the microwave at noon.
My whole plate looked like a fucking easter basket.
(laughter) - But then Morris came.
(all): Big Mo! Big Mo!
Now, Morris was an athlete with no one to play with.
So, Shoresy was given the task.
It was me and Waffle everywhere.
Me and Waffle on the soccer field.
Hey Waffle, you run like a girl!
Me and Waffle at the ball park.
Hey Waffle, you throw like a girl!
Me and Waffle at the tennis court.
Hey Waffle, I'm gonna fuck... (both): ...Serena Williams!
(laughter) - Day after day
and game after game, Morris just pounded him into the ground.
- Uh-huh. - Did he ever beat you, Dad?
If you can't win, don't play, baby.
Shoresy and Morris would compete from sun up to sun down.
With Shoresy losing and losing and losing again.
Which, of course, made him feel bad.
He started to really hate it. But then,
something clicked up there.
He started to do something different.
Shoresy started to play not just with Morris, but without Morris.
And you know what happened? He started to get better.
And before you knew it, one day, Shoresy beat Morris.
(soft applause) Well, just the one time,
but he did beat him. - Give your balls a tug.
He's been chasing that feeling ever since.
And along the way, with all the work,
the weight came off him. (applause)
I hate this story. Don't be fat, and feel better.
Yeah, let's figure out what makes you feel good.
Sometimes you need a little bit of tough love to get yourself sorted.
Never going back again, baby.
Crank it up, buddy, you're up next.
(laughing) - Now, for all Waffle was fat,
Morris was dumb. (all): Big Mo! Big Mo!
Fucking Mo was way dumber than I was fat.
- You could barely run. - You could barely read.
So there I am, straight out of the gate
with a fat one and a dumb one. (laughter)
Mo, you honestly wanna say
that I was as fat as you were dumb?
What are you gonna do, Waffle?
Mo, your social worker said two things to Dad.
He said, "You OK with Blacks?" Dad says, "Yeah."
He says, "Well, how about a dumb one?"
Shut up, Waffle!
No, that may have been said, Kayla.
- Hand to heart, Kayla. - And as I'm wondering
if this was all a big mistake, in walks Carrie.
(all): Care bear count down, four, three, two, one!
(chuckling)
Now, where Morris helped Waffle with being fat,
Carrie helped Morris with being dumb.
Morris wasn't that dumb. He just needed a good tutor.
Hey Mo, what comes after a thousand?
- Two thousand. - A thousand and one!
(laughter) - Yeah, as a social worker,
I can confidently say that Mo's social worker
wouldn't have called him dumb. - Well, actually, Care,
it was dumb, and then later, real fucking dumb.
You know, I think that was said.
Well, real fucking dumb has a Tim Hortons
franchise, bitch. Owner Operator.
No way the social worker said dumb.
You wanna know what your social worker
said to Dad, Carrie? He said, "You OK with Asians?"
Dad says, "Yeah." And she says, "Well, how about a gay one?"
Fuck you, Waffle. (crowd gasps)
No, Free. That was definitely said.
- Something you wanna say, Free? - You don't want it, girl.
- He don't want it. - Free!
Let's get into it, Waffle. 'Cause you're gonna hear this.
You're all gonna hear this.
I know you all see our engagement rings.
I know you're all talking.
Those two girls can't be together, it ain't right.
Well, guess what?! Carrie is not my sister.
She's my foster sister,
so it's completely fine that we're getting married.
Sounds perfectly fine.
And she was only my foster sister
for a year and a half. - Just keep saying you're sisters,
Free, it's likely one of those "the more you hear it" things.
(Carrie and Free): Dad! - You both call him Dad, Care!
I mean, it's like-- - You were called sisters
and brothers on the farm.
Hey, Free, you know any brothers with sisters
who fire digits up each other?
But you're not blood.
Right?
So, I think it's perfectly fine
for you to get married, Free.
(applause) - Thank you!
But, you didn't seriously think
we weren't gonna take the piss out of ya, did ya?
(laughing)
You're worth it.
Get a room you fucking sister wife!
(upbeat music)
So there was no foster mom?
- No, just the dad. - Huh.
Hence the fascination for older women.
You coming to the game tonight?
- Laurence Leboeuf! - Laurence Leboeuf!
Laurence Leboeuf! Bonjour!
Salut!
Remy Nadeau.
Avec mon partenaire Benoit...
- Benny! - Benoit Benny Brodeur.
Et moi, Remy Nadeau. - Laurence Leboeuf!
Laurence Leboeuf!
Yup.
(both): Ah.
Remy Nadeau avec mon partenaire Benoit...
Benny Coach!
Benoit Benny Brodeur. We go everywhere JJ go.
I do the plays-by-play. - And I do the colours!
Benoit Benny Brodeur do the colours.
I, Remy Nadeau, do the plays-by-play.
- Laurence Leboeuf. - Laurence Leboeuf.
Lysandre Nadeau? (mumbling)
Lysandre Nadeau. Remy Nadeau.
All the Quebecois starlets, they love the JJ.
All of Quebec love him, coach.
(upbeat music)
- Oui, allo, Lysandre Nadeau. - Coucou.
Oh my God, no way, Laura Mohr is the hottest girl
in Sudbury, you fucking idiot. Oh my God.
Oh, hey, Laura. Did you just hear that piece of shit? So dumb.
Judging by the parking lot, a handful of people care now.
Sudbury Saturday night.
Cheapest drinks in the city too.
When are you gonna let me take you out for some good Caribbean?
- I don't date sluts. - My God are you good-looking.
I know I may come off as a real devil-may-care kind of guy,
but we both know you'd run my show.
- Yeah? How so? - I'd take a header off
the Bridge of Nations just to brush arms with ya.
- Oh? - I'd full gainer down the crack
in Kilarney just to hold your purse.
- Mm. - I'd sit my bare ass
on the big nickel just to have you flick some debris off my shirt,
I swear to God, I'd be so good to ya.
Does North Bay's captain still have the biggest C in the league?
It's the biggest fucking C in the world.
(chuckles) - See ya.
Hey, when was the last time
you had some good assorted tempura.
Fuck you, Shoresy!
For what?!
- You guys win one-- - Huh?
You guys win one game and you think you can just
cruise in five minutes before warm-up?
- Yeah-- - Huh?
It's senior whale shit hockey, Ziig,
it's not the fucking Knight's Watch.
- Senior AAA. - Whale shit all the same.
You're in half an hour before warm-up now, minimum.
- For what?! - Ride the bike--
Huh?
- Ride the bike! - Nat, if I want a good laugh,
I'll watch Mr. Bean. - I'm serious.
What bike?!
Take your pick.
Sponsors at the Blueberry Festival
were so fired up about your win
they decided to invest in another.
- No one's gonna use this. - I know.
Not one player will use this. (sighs)
- Good work, Blueberry Fest. - Like, the bikes, maybe.
People love biking.
Three bikes is excessive though.
They think we've got three fucking
Rod Brind'amours or what? (sighs)
- They were so fired-- - Huh?
They were so fired up when they wheeled
all this shit in. - Are you trying not to laugh?
I had to pretend to be fired up too because they were so fired up.
Does it come with some fucking Gary Roberts tapes or what?
I don't think they understand Senior "Whale Shit" Hockey.
Senior AAA.
(Shoresy and Nat): Whale shit all the same.
Like, watch this. Hey, Jims.
They work out, Jim? - Yeah.
When was the last time you worked out, Jim?
- 2012. - Jim?
- Grade ten. - Jim?
I'd have to think about that, Shoresy.
I can't quite recall right now.
The truth is, I never really enjoyed doing cardio.
Thanks, Jims.
I wanted to tell them most of these guys
have families and jobs, they don't play Senior hockey
to come to the rink and work out.
- I bet the Soo work out. - The Soo are so fucking good.
Seriously though, don't cut it so close.
Get a good warm up in or you're gonna get hurt.
Tell the sluts. - You tell 'em.
- They're not here. - Are they not here yet?
- Shoresy, do you see-- - Huh?
Come with me.
North Bay Norseman, baby. Gonna win?
Well, if you can't win, don't play.
- 'Cause if we lose. - We'll never lose again, Ziig.
I hate playing these guys.
Well, I fucking love playing these guys.
Because they don't beat us as bad as the Soo?
No, 'cause of the C on their captain's sweater.
- Keller? - It's the biggest C you've
ever seen in your life. Ziig, I can see you're real
slammed here and everything,
but is someone gonna call the boys or no?
- I got us a new tendy. - From who?
- No-- - Huh?
No one, he doesn't play anymore.
Well, sounds way fucking dumber when you say it.
- A little heads up-- - Oh my God,
is it this guy right here?
Did you get him from fucking Cirque du Soleil?
Cirque de Soleil, and no answer from Dolo.
It's actually Cirque du Soleil,
and no answer from Sanguinet either.
- You know him. - No, I don't know either
of the Ringling Brothers. - And you're gonna be--
Hey, bud, are you a fucking panhandler or something?
Actually, you got a dip?
Mark Michaels?
Already, Nat?
Our new tendy is fucking Mark Michaels?
- You're go-- - Huh?!
- You're gonna be nice to him. - It starts already, Nat.
We lose 20 on the campaign, you gas him, then we win one,
and so, you bring him back? Huh?
- See, I knew that-- - Shut up!
I knew this was a bad idea, Nat.
- You shut up too. - Well, I knew it, Nat.
She said shut up, slut.
Why are you saying her name so much?
- Do you see, Nat? - Michaels!
He said your name like, 20 times.
- Shut up. - So annoying.
Nat! (together): Oh my God!
Just shut up. And you, shut up.
- No answer from Hitch. - No answer from Goody.
Both of you, listen. You're gonna apologize to him.
- For what?! - For what?
And you're gonna apologize to him.
And then, you're not gonna talk to him anymore.
I don't wanna talk to him fucking ever.
Good, 'cause I don't wanna talk to him either.
Oh, give your balls a tug. (Nat): Shoresy!
He should be apologizing to me.
What the... Excuse me! (mocking): Excuse me!
For what?
For being such a fucking loser.
Know what? That's it.
Fucking tit fucker.
- I'm out. - Yeah, take your balls
with you, pheasant. - Shoresy, apologize or we fold!
You can't just hold that over my head
every time you need something.
Yes, I can. (Ziig, Miig): Yes, she can.
Yes, she can, but she shouldn't.
We need him. Tendy quit.
Tendy finally wins a game
and he fucking quits? - Oh, I wonder why!
Well, at least there's a bigger loser than Michaels.
He's not supposed to be talking to me, Nat!
I wasn't talking to him, I was talking to you.
Shoresy, he wants to win.
- But he doesn't hate to lose. - Apologize!
- Well, I'm sorry. - For what?
- I don't know. - For the party island squeezer in Wasaga.
I didn't get the squeezer from her!
Sanguinet got the squeezer from her.
Her brothers are super weird.
But you were taking a fucking dump in the water!
Everybody was taking a dump in the water!
It's fucking Wasaga! - Apologize or we fold.
- Sorry, bud. - To him!
- Sorry, bud. - Thank you. Apology accep--
Is there seriously nothing back from the boys?
(Ziig and Miig): No! - Get your shit on.
You ready? - Of course.
Why do you think they call me
"Never misses the Mark Michaels"?
That's so fucking embarrassing, Nat.
That's fucking humiliating. How do you not chirp that?
Look, we just made the rules right now,
and look, he's talking to me, Nat!
I'm talking to her!
Fucking tit fucker.
Hey, everything's bigger in North Bay, eh Keller?
You fucking loser. Hey, Keller, when they put
that big fuck off C on your sweater,
did they think you'd grow into it or what?
Like, were they pissed when you didn't, or what?
Hey, Keller, you got any leadership tips?
Just looking for some tips on being a leader.
Jesus Christ, Keller, if they tried to put
that big fuck off C on my sweater, I'd say, "No thanks."
Hey, Jim. - Yeah.
- Jim? - Yes.
- Jim? - Yeah, it's nice
you're thinking of me, but I don't think it's a good idea.
Making it bigger doesn't make it better, Keller.
It's not tits.
- Miig? - Nothing.
- Ziig? - Still nothing.
- You worried? - Wee bit.
- Me too. - Bigger fish to fry,
for a second. You said a quarter full?
That is a thing I said.
- You worried? - Wee bit.
- Me too. - Only one way to find out.
Bums in seats, baby, let's go.
Bums in seats.
Call it more like one-eighth full.
Nat, what the fuck?
Fuck you, what the fuck, Shoresy, where are the sluts?
- Are they not here? - No--
Huh? Not even Sanger? Huh? (Nat and Miig): No!
Do we have a chance without them?
You fucking plug.
So, what do we do?
If you can't win, don't play.
What?!
(buzzer)
(speaking French)
- Laurence Leboeuf. - Laurence Leboeuf!
So, what they do, try to wait
till the other guy leave the ice,
but Shoresy, Keller, not giving it up.
It's a Stevie Wonder superstition.
(indistinct commentary in French)
No, don't do that.
(indistinct commentary in French)
(cheering)
(upbeat music)