All language subtitles for Pear Cider and Cigarettes 2016 1080p WEB-DL AAC 2 0 H264-WoKE

I received a
Christmas card this morning.

It didn't come with the
regular mail for some reason.

That was a bit strange.

It was also strange that it was
addressed from my friend techno.

It read: "Hey rob,
if you are reading this, that

means I'm dead.

I just want to say thanks.

I'll see you soon.

Go get drunk on me.

Techno."

Techno stypes.

What a guy he was.

He always said he'd
never make it to forty.

A year and a half earlier,
i was on a plane to China,

I was on my way to see techno.

He was at the military
hospital in Guangzhou,

waiting for a new liver.

His father sent me with two
clear instructions: One - gotta

get techno to stop drinking,
at least long enough

to receive a liver transplant.

And two - get him
back home to Vancouver.

Get techno to stop drinking...

That's not gonna be easy.

Cos that's what techno
really liked to do...

Was drink.

And smoke.

And fight.

He was in no condition to fight.

He was sick.

He was really sick.

He was crippled from a car
accident when he was seventeen,

but that's not how
he lost his big toe.

He lost that in a
motorbike accident.

Yeah, he was broken alright.

What was he
fighting for anyways?

And what was he
still doing in China?

I first met techno
in the fall of 1978.

My first memory of techno
was, we were playing soccer

on this field, and, the ball
was coming right to me.

Right when I was about to jump
for it, this kid jumped right in

front of me and he
jumped higher than

I'd ever seen
anybody jump before.

And he chested the ball,
sorta trapped it, and then he

kicked it, from about
halfway across the field,

and I'm pretty sure
he scored....

Another time, there was this
sports day at school,

and I remember he
casually picked up this ball,

and he chucked it,
right across the field.

And I remember going up after
him, and thinking 'oh I could do

that', and I chucked the ball
as hard as I could, and it only

went halfway across the field.

For the next little while, i
went to that school on the

weekends and practised throwing
balls, to see if I could throw

it across the field, and i
never got anywhere near it.

But I'll tell you one thing.

Techno was fast.

Techno was the fastest
human I'd ever seen.

When he ran, he just took off.

There's no way you
could ever catch him.

And so there I was, I couldn't
really Chuck a ball too far,

and I didn't really play hockey,

and I didn't really play
soccer either.

All I did, all the
time, was I used to draw.

And that's the one thing i
could do that techno couldn't

really do, and so, we
became friends after that.

One day techno said, 'hey, do
you wanna go shoot some balls

around after school?' And I said
'yeah, ok.' In the middle of us

playing around, techno went
berserk, he proceeded to break

about 20 windows at the school.

We were walking home, and we got
picked up by a squad car, and I

remember thinking i
really didn't like to be

in the back of a squad car.

I looked over, and
techno thought it was great.

And that kind of
explains the difference

between the two of us.

And we were only like twelve
years old, and he used to tell

us these stories about fucking
his girlfriend, and I remember I

didn't even have pubic hair yet
like that's how young we were.

I guess that's the thing with
him, it seemed like he could

always just pull it off.

Whether he was
diving off a cliff,

or riding his skateboard
through traffic...

It just seemed like he
could always just pull it off.

I have to admit, they
were getting lots of pussy.

One evening, techno phoned me up
and asked me if I wanted to go

to a party at the other end of
town, with his dickhead buddies.

I declined.

It was the summer
of our graduation.

We were seventeen.

Techno was completely
in control, and completely

out of control at the same time.

An emergency crew showed up
to the scene of the accident...

And techno was
nowhere to be seen.

After some time they
found him in a bush...

Fifty yards away
from the crash site.

He was busted up pretty good,
he nearly lost a leg

One day I went out to the bay
where he lived to visit him.

I pulled over.

As he bent down to lean
into the window I noticed he had

a really yellow complexion.

Apparently, he was given
bad blood from the hospital

and contracted hepatitis c.

He would eventually
sue the hospital for

another 600 thousand dollars.

By this time
techno was very rich.

He always had an odd assortment
of hangers-on available

to do odd jobs for him.

There was Freddy the freeloader,
dump truck, Teddy two fingers,

and dogbreath...

This guy was a piece of work.

Most of them were crackheads.

Techno could stay
up for days on end,

Polish off dozens
of pear cider in one sitting.

There was a little
girl there named flora,

holding my name on a card.

We exchanged greetings and
she went off to look for techno.

After a while techno appeared.

He shook my hand.

His expression was something
like 'thanks for coming here

man', mine was 'now let's get
you the fuck outta here.'

back at the military
hospital, I met dr Lee.

He explained to me that
it was imperative that

techno quit drinking.

The sooner he quit, the sooner
he was able to receive a new

liver, it was that simple.

And also, if I could get rid
of that damn cat in his room.

I turned to techno...

'Ok, where is it?'

he knew exactly
what I was talking about.

He produced a bottle of baijo,
he was mixing it with gatorade.

'All of it' I said.

It took a while, but eventually
he gathered up all his various

He'd look at it and grimace and
say something like 'ah I can't

eat that kind of lettuce' or
'i can't eat bananas without

sprinkles on it' or
something retarded like that.

And so it went...

First it was Seinfeld, then
friends, then we discovered

my name is Earl.

Other than that,
there wasn't much to mark

the passing of time.

Techno had his good
days, and his bad days.

He'd looked forward
to a special meal for days.

Techno's immune system was so
low, a piece of fish that was

slightly off or some other
funky food would put him down

transplant surgeries.

I remember looking at a pile
of rubbish in the corner of the

elevator and thinking
how filthy this hospital was.

I'd never seen techno so scared.

The transplant ward had flickery
lights and holes in the ceiling,

and then they wheeled him
off through the double doors

and he was gone.

Kung and I walked
back to the hotel.

That dumb cat darted out
in front of us on the way back.

We were called back
to return to the hospital.

Dr Lee wanted to
show us techno's old liver

for some reason.

This infamous liver that's been
the source of so much grief, I

had to take a look at it.

A couple of days later we saw
techno in the isolation ward.

He was behind glass
with some other patients.

He had tubes running down his
mouth and he was hooked up to

all sorts of machines.

One day I was in his
room, he was sleeping.

He was chewing,
and putting handfuls of air

in his mouth and chewing.

He woke up and said 'ah man,
i was having this great dream

about food.' I asked him on
another occasion 'what does it

feel like to have a new liver?'
He said 'it feels, it feels like

somebody removed a frozen
lasagne out of my chest and

replaced it with another frozen
lasagne.' Now it was time to

plan the exit strategy,
but first we had to

pay off the hospital.

For some reason the
hospital only took cash.

Techno's father
had to organise a massive

western union transfer.

It was a big fuck up.

Western union didn't
wanna transfer that much money.

It took all day, but in the
end we had a big bag full of

one hundred renminbi notes.

It was a stack of
notes over two feet long.

Me and two little
Asian girls were my backup.

We returned to techno's room.

Dr Lee had to explain how all
the anti-rejection drugs had to

be taken, all of
which was in mandarin.

Then I had to rush back and
collect techno, who was having a

smoke by the lobby.

He had a surgical mask pulled
down, he was wearing his black

cowboy hat and his white suit,
which was two sizes too big.

I told him about the missing
note and he said 'yeah I know,

cos I took it.'

long pause...

I was steaming.

'Let me get this straight,
you stole a hundred renminbi,

of your own money?'
Grabbed his cigarette, snuffed

it out on the ground and then
we headed to the airport.

First I had to see kung off,
and then techno and I had to

get a plane to Hong Kong.

And this is where the
story gets really fucked up.

I'd over-stayed my
visa by a couple months,

that's a big deal in China.

This caused all sorts of
alarm bells to start ringing.

Then they took
us to a holding room,

we were about to
miss our connecting flight

there was no way techno was
not going home on that flight,

so I turned to him and I said
'you go, and I'll meet you

in Hong Kong.' And that's
the second time I saw fear

in techno's eyes.

He nodded and then I had this
image in my head of him limping

away from me towards the gate.

Meanwhile, back in the holding
office another guy showed up.

He said he needed money, he
made a space between his fingers

about an inch and a half deep.

Hell, I had a wad about 50
inches deep the day before.

He had someone escort me to
a couple of atms and they

shook me down for about
seven hundred us dollars.

He was actually
a pretty nice guy.

I was about one
hour behind techno.

This is the first time
techno was unsupervised

since he arrived in China.

We were too close to
home to blow it now.

I arrived in Hong Kong and
immediately scanned every bar

and smoking room
all the way to the gate.

I finally caught up to him at
gate one hundred and something.

He didn't look so good.

In fact, he never really
looked good again after that.

He walked all the
way from gate five.

I don't know why he
didn't get a wheelchair.

At one point he sat down on a
bench that said 'wet paint.'

he had black marks going across
the back of his white suit.

We boarded the
flight to Vancouver.

He had a business class
ticket and I was in coach,

what the fuck?

I could see the top of his
cowboy hat through the curtains.

I called the flight attendant
aside and I said 'my friend

cannot drink
under any circumstances.

He's also very persuasive,
so don't be fooled.'

I was totally acting
like a cop again.

And at one point, techno
came back to coach

and sat next to me
on the flight.

He seemed so calm and
happy to be going home.

I hadn't seen techno
this happy for a long time.

With all the commotion
happening that day,

I can't remember if he took
his anti-rejection pills.

He was supposed
to take them twice.

This next part of the
story is a little hard to tell.

It seemed like we had finally
got home after this huge ordeal,

and I handed
techno off to his folks.

I sorta thought I needed
some time away from techno

for a while.

That night, techno made a turn
for the worse, and went into

pure rejection mode,
and began to turn yellow again.

He was rushed to the
Vancouver general hospital.

Over the course of
time his situation went

from bad to worse.

I couldn't believe it
when I heard the news

that techno had died.

Techno was convinced
that nothing could kill him.

The truth is, is that by this
time, there really wasn't much

keeping techno alive.

His ashes were gonna be
distributed out at the cliff

where he used to dive
off of at lighthouse park.

His father said a few words
and distributed his ashes.

Just then a big gust of wind
came and picked up that big

cloud of ash and blew it towards
this group that was about a

hundred yards downwind from us,
and they completely got dusted

with techno's ashes.

And his dad said,
kinda comically,

'son, even in death you're
still giving me troubles.'