Original subtitles

(THEME MUSIC PLAYING)

Well, happy Valentine's Day, you heartbreakers.

Dream makers. Love takers.

Don't youse mess around with me.

There's nothing too happy about commemorating

the beating and execution

of third century Roman bishop St. Valentine.

You're a bish. 'Kay.

You're just tossin' the mitts and throwin' the haymakers

right off the hops, eh, good buddies?

What's your problem with Valentime's?

One more time?

What's your problem with Valentime's?

And just so we're Labatt crystal clear, you said...

What's your problem with Valentime's Day?

Take a Valentimes out.

You're in the wrong Valentime zone, pal.

Lovers in a Dangerous Valentime, Dary?

What's your problem? Just because I like

to have a good time on Valen...

Valen... Way ya go.

Valentime's. Atta boy.

I definitely loves me the Saint Valentine's Day.

I still makes individual Valentines for all my pals.

You know, Squirrelly Dan,

that is something that I actually appreciates about you.

Thanks you, Miss Katys.

I plans on giving them out at the speed dating event

at the church today.

Yew!

Cannot wait to get sweet at the meet and greet.

A date every three minutes.

Quantity.

Seeing as this is most certainly a one-off event

and not a tradition

that also falls on some made-up holiday

I couldn't give a cat's quiff about,

I'm out.

There's happiness calling my name

from the bottom of a bottle of Puppers.

Such a poopy pants on Valentime's.

What poor timing.

All right, gents. Let's get our sexy on.

(FUNKY MUSIC PLAYING)

This is the worst turnout I have ever had.

Okay.

Welcome to speed dating, everyone!

Oh, have a seat.

Okay. (CHUCKLES)

I'm horny.

Okay, looking this way, please. (CHUCKLES)

So let's all pwuck our little hawt stwings, okay?

And pway peek-a-boo wif our special someonezies.

I am...

We are all here today to have a little giggle-leeler,

that might turn into a lil' tickle-lee-ler,

and maybe, just maybe,

a lil diddle-lee-ler.

No longer hornys.

So, the rules.

Everyone, I want you to sit across from one another,

and then every thee minutes, you're gonna switch seats,

and get all womantic.

Where the fuck is the bar?

Excuse me, sir.

With the royal blue language verging on Navy blue.

We're in a church for some flippin' reason,

so I am going to need you to keep your language

to a Maya blue, at the very least, a powder blue.

Powder boo.

(MOCKINGLY) Yeah, cut the crapola, Mr. Wisenheimer.

Thank you. That's unhelpful.

Second, there is no alcohol at this event.

Boo. It is 11:00 in the morning.

(ALL BOOING)

I'm sorry, I didn't realize we were dealings

with the queens of friggin' Englands here.

Well... KATY: Point of order.

We all definitely know each other real well.

Half these dipshits were in my grade two class.

And I put in extensions for this.

What did I just say about keeping the language

to a periwinkle flippin' blue?

Oh. We're actually married already,

so we're just here to do a little, uh,

run around the bases.

We're two sport players.

Time to spit on the old hands and crank a few.

I'd shag a few balls.

I've got the clap.

Currently. Again?

Again.

I also have the clap.

Again? Again.

We took down the same broad.

Reilly one-timed me a clapper.

So we probably won't be taking anybody down.

Unless there's any bug chasers.

Which is a thing we saw on Grey's Anatomy.

I just feel like I'm being unfaithful

to my dead wife, Barb.

She died.

Fuckin' embarrassing.

ROALD: I'm just gonna say what you're all thinking.

Roald gets spit-roasted by Dax and Ron.

That's the low-hanging fruit, you guys.

Dax and Ron London Bridging ol' Roaldy.

I get it.

You're all just thinking,

"How have those two not double cowgirled the gay skid yet?

"How come they're not in the bathroom right now

"doggy training him?

"How come he's not in a doggy deluxe?

"What's the hold up?"

Anywho-d'lee-ler!

(GASPS) Look what the cat dragged in.

WAYNE: Better than what the cat coughed up.

Oh, a customer.

And one of my favorite cuts of prime rib at that.

Glen, how're ya now?

Better now that you muscle'd your way into my shift,

which I am covering for Gail

so that she can get slinky little swerve on

at the speed dating event.

Speaking of which,

why aren't you partaking in the carousing of St. Valentine's?

STEWART: Fuck Valentine's Day.

That a skid having a beer?

A skid drinkin' a beer.

No rips? No rips.

Oh, I bet you get them hid

under the spare roll of toiler paper

in the bathroom stall as usual.

Stewart!

This Hallmark holiday has enough phony euphoria.

I don't need to add to it by better living

through my basement bathtub chemistry.

Though I could be persuaded to pop a... Valium-tine.

Long way to go for that joke.

You know what, Skid? What, shirt-tucker?

I think you're right with this whole

"Fuck Valentine's Day" narrative.

If there's no tradition, there's no integrity.

Which is a thing I say from time to time.

Love comes from a delicate, genuine place.

Not from the seasonal aisle at the drug store.

Which is a think I say from time to time.

Hear, hear. Hear, hear.

You never find love if you go looking for it.

It's when you're not looking.

So you're just gonna let that hang there?

You're not gonna finish that thought?

Sorry? Okay.

Being as we are the only two at the bar, shall we...

Grab a beer?

Or you just gonna sit there

catching horseflies with your mouth?

I'd have a beer. Glen, please and thank you.

Unlikely duo since Judas and JC.

DARYL: What?

All right, let's all settle-lee-ler.

Okay. Now I am a professional,

and I have noticed

that there are more little boys than little girls.

More oysters than snails.

Well, at the very least,

it's a good chance for old pals to catch up.

Yeah, good chats with great friends

in snackable, three-minute intervals.

Ooh, sport mackin'.

Absolutely, buddy.

What are you two plugs on about?

Since we got the clap, we figured we'd work

on our flirt game with some practice.

A few hot laps around the rink.

Shuffle the line combinations,

see it works on new rockets in the actual game.

'Cause for now we have the clap. Ugh.

I know. What is the deal?

(CLEARS THROAT) No, no. Uh, no.

We are not here so that you can practice hitting on girls.

That is not what my flat rate of $250 is for, is it?

Thought I'd dickered you down to $225?

Let's start the game!

This is not a game, okay?

This is my jobble-lee-ler!

What about $230?

No, it is not negotiable.

Unless you have cash.

You know, Uncle Eddie always said

if you put two people across a table from each other

with pints in between them,

they'll find a common ground.

Not sure he ever sat across from a skid, though.

Spare me the rustic aphorisms

and let's just enjoy some quiet commiseration.

You catch the game last night?

Think I got fucking time for that?

I was joking, shirt-tucker.

Hockeyfights.com is all you need.

I start my day with it every morning.

Fuckin' throwin' hands is the best part anyway, fuck.

Agreed.

It injects anarchy into an otherwise bland amalgam

of meaningless athletics and post-game platitudes.

Favorite fighter of all time. Go.

Bobby Probert.

Rob Ray.

Current NHLer you'd file under do-not-fuck-with. Go.

Ryan Reaves. Zdeno Chara.

Toughest current NHL captain. Go.

Chara still in play? Can't say the same guy twice.

Nick Foligno. Jamie Benn.

Glen! Pff.

I'd have another beer.

Skid?

I'd have a beer.

Strange things are afoot at MoDean's today.

I'm good at that.

Is everyone sitting across

from their new potential beau-leos and bellalee-lers?

Okay. Ready? Round one!

DAN: Fight! Get over here!

MAN 1: Footsie! MAN 2: Finish him!

No! You are not getting this!

What's with the socks?

They make you faster around the base paths.

I never really had any problems getting around the bases.

You play ball now?

Daxy and I play shortstop and second base.

We're a great... DP combo.

You're real sack-mates, hey?

When there's a dribbler coming at us,

we like to go around the horn with it.

How are you at the plate?

I'm a switch hitter with a high average from both sides.

Pair me against anyone on either team

and I'll at least get to second.

Hmm.

See, we prefer to play on AstroTurf around here

because we love a good sliding box.

You should bronze those titties

because your bust belongs in Cooperstown.

Bring some pals. I'm a five-tool player.

Your 12 to 6 curves are making me go from 6 to 12.

Why don't you groove me some two-finger heaters down low?

I am gonna hit a scorching comebacker right to your mound.

Fuck.

Gail. Dary.

I think tonight, there's gonna be a Gailbreak.

Sure is, Dary Spice.

Why don't we Gail to the Chief?

You got it, my Dary Home Companion.

You ever worked on the Gailroad? All the live-long Dary.

That's why I can feel the Gail force winds

whooshing past me.

Just happy to be sitting across from my Dary godmother.

Sup, Luc Robitaille?

Sup, Rami Malek?

So, you know I'm gay.

You smash all sorts of ass.

Everyone knows I should stop wasting

people's time and just get smashed by...

I don't know anything about the gay lifestyle though.

You wanna spend out time here playing "ask a gay dude"?

For real? Fuck yeah, buddy.

Okay, hit me, Craig Janney.

I can't believe I'm doing this.

Look away, Barb. This is rock bottom.

(CLEARS THROAT) Okay, um...

So, Coach, I was thinking

maybe we do a little bit of role-playing,

seeing as I don't think you're gonna pick up very many ladies

with how aggressive you are.

I'd rather eat pheasant shit on dry toast

than do anything with you.

Right on. Anything.

Sweet. So, you be you, and I'll be a super hot rocket.

(CLEARS THROAT)

(IN A GIRLY VOICE) Hi, handsome.

I heard you're a hockey coach.

Hiya. (CHUCKLES)

I'm kind of nervous.

I don't normally date girls

that look like Lyle Lovett and Sheryl Crow had a fuckchild.

I actually think that's a pretty good chirp,

but I just wanna Google that to be sure.

You said Sheryl Crow and Lyle Odelein?

Lovett.

Yeah, I know, I love it, too. I'm just looking him up.

Two T's, fuckwad.

Thanks.

Nice baseball socks. You's ever DH?

Easy, Dom Deluise-y.

Why? I used to DH alls the time in Little Leagues,

on account to my power-hitting ability

coupled with my perceived lack of runnings abilities.

Oh. Sorry, I thought you were talking about fucking.

What do you mean?

Well, a DH is someone who will fuck anything.

Oh, sorta like how getting to second base

is touching a gal's boobies?

And an inside the park home run

is fucking in the bar toilets

before the bouncer finds out and kicks you out.

You got a sex term what goes with

gettin' to first base on an intentionals hit by a pitch?

Yup. That's getting Frenched by a gal,

but only 'cause she's getting back

at her messy drunk boyfriend.

What about reaching second base

on a drop fly ball in center field

'cause the sun's in the eyes?

'Course, that's when you think a date went poorly,

but then he gets his tits out in the cab ride home.

Caught in a run-down? Hitting on two girls at once,

only to realize that they're friends,

and they are not happy with you.

Check swing single? Bumping into somebody,

accidentally touching their butt,

and then being super into it.

Choke up on the bat a little bit,

and I bet you fist it right through my infield.

I have choked on some bat before,

and I'm pretty confident

that no matter what you're sending me,

I'll get some good wood on it.

I think it's about time you expand my strike zone.

Every ground ball I've hit finds a hole.

I'm great at making contact with the meat of the bat.

You can put an E on the board

because I muffed it right between the legs.

Oh, I think it's about time

I sent you down to the bush league.

I'm a spray hitter, so look alive out there.

(SOFTLY) Fuck.

You ever seen The People Versus Dary Flynt?

That Gails in comparison to Monty Python and the Holy Gail.

Prefer So I Dary'ed an Axe Murderer.

I feel like this conversation has hit a bit of a Gailmate.

Well, Dary Christmas to you.

It's nice catching up, Gailor Swift.

Dary On, My Wayward Son.

Mmm. You hit the Gail on the head.

A top is when he smashes the ass,

and the bottom is when he gets his ass smashed, right?

Correct.

Which are you? Bottom.

Power bottom, but... What's that?

That term is so muddled, but let's just move past it.

Okay, so you're at a gay bar... Uh-huh?

...and you're bottom and you meet another bottom,

do you tell him at the bar,

or you go home and, "Surprise!"

And you're stuck trying to bottom each other?

Wait. Do you think the only type of gay sex is butt sex?

No. Yes. No, I don't know.

Just because a pig has four legs and a dog has four legs,

does not mean a pig is a dog.

So, all butt sex is gay,

but not all gay sex is butt sex?

Sure.

But I mean, I'll be whatever Dax and Ron need me to be,

just to stop this whole story line.

It's all anyone can talk about.

I mean, God.

You don't look like anything you said on the phone.

I was expecting more Andie MacDowell

and a lot less Andy Samberg.

Both comedy legends.

But you are my type, I mean.

What guy doesn't wake up in the morning

and just hope to meet Maggie Gyllenhaal,

only her face has been smashed in by a city bus

and she's dressed up like a gaylord banker?

(CHUCKLES) We don't have to do role-play...

Oh, what's wrong, Howard Stern and Baba-Booey's face

mashed together with Jon Bon Jovi's hair?

Did you know they edited Stern's speech

for Bon Jovi's induction in the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame?

Let's fuck, all right?

I'm ready. Let's fuck, huh?

The spawn of Alanis Morrissette and Dave Coulier

pre- You Oughta Know?

Huh?

Okay. Uh, good game.

I just fucking jerked off.

Switch hittings?

Pretending to be gay to get a gal's guard down.

Stealing signs?

Lurking someone's Facebook interests

before you start hitting on them.

Spring training games?

Trying out a few things out with your friends with benefits.

MATCHMAKER: All right!

That is timel-leeler!

Well, Dax, I mights never watch a Blue Jays game again

without a fully torqued boner.

Gettin' randy, John Candy.

Thank you for your wise and wonderful lessons.

I've really enjoyed my times with you today.

And I mades you this Valentine.

Oh, my God.

I'm a hit. You is.

If you could play one position in hockey, what would it be?

Back-up goalie.

What? Ultimate underdog.

Also, they don't get their hair wet.

Fucking Jeff Hackett.

Ron Tugnutt. Peter Ing.

Allan Bester. Damian Rhodes.

Tommy Soderstrom. Can I ask you something?

You always been a skid or...

Early Marilyn Manson left his mark.

When that began to fade, Rammstein came in to replenish.

Slipknot has always sustained.

I don't know what the fuck you're talking about.

I've been a skid for as long as you hicks have called me one.

Well, cliques are fucking stupid anyway, so...

Can confirm. Especially jocks.

Oh, I hate jocks. Hockey players.

Me, too. Yeah?

I guess the enemy of my enemy is my friend, eh?

I think I'd rather have silverfish in my kitchen

than hockey players.

I like to fuck with them by hitting on them.

Do you really?

Jocks are generally deeply uncomfortable

with their own sexuality,

they often kick rocks after that.

You really just don't give a fuck, do you?

Hard no.

Wondrous.

Favorite Toronto Maple Leafs tough guy. Go.

Colton Orr. Tie Domi.

Although Wendel Clark deserves honorable mention.

But he was also an all-star so...

BOTH: Wendel's in a league of his own.

Glen! I think we'd have another beer.

I'd have a beer.

This is surely a sign of the apocalypse.

St. Valentine, here I come!

I'll get the beers first.

Do my job.

Nice socks.

Gotta hike 'em up high if you wanna steal second.

I hear you and Ronsy are a switch-hitting DP combo.

When a slow dribbler comes my way,

I love to eat the ball.

Let's see a heads-up play on the base paths,

so you don't get caught in a hot box.

I was always taught to slide face first into the bag.

You know it still counts as a home run

if I ding it right off your pole.

I wouldn't mind seeing your Rusty Kuntz bat

after my Dick Pole.

I am a Doug Fister type of Lenny Dykstra.

Well, bat me in because I'm in scoring position.

I just got some mink oil. You wanna work in this mitt?

Our leadoff hitter is great in the one hole,

but I'm really looking forward to our whole lineup

hitting in the two hole and three hole before the cleanup.

(GASPS)

(SOFTLY) Fuck.

Okay.

I haven't seen you since the Little League.

Yeah, you really worked me inside

with your famous split finger.

If you had adjusted your stance,

I bet you could have pulled one without anyone expecting it.

I always liked an older pitcher

because usually they've perfected the knuckler.

RJ Dickey? Suck my RJ Dickey.

My catcher gave me the sign

to give you the back door breaking ball.

Really? I was hoping you'd just scorch me one

right down the pipe.

Hmm. Now I'm sorry about the low throw last time.

You may need to dig in the dirt with me.

I'm game for you being behind the play,

but just the foul tip.

Your stroke is perfect.

I can't wait for you to hit it where the grass don't grow.

Oh, grass grows here, here and here.

But I like the challenge. You really gotta pound my zone.

My fastball ain't what she used to be.

I'm a real soft tosser.

It's hard for me to wrap my hands around that one

when I'm getting banged inside.

I'm gonna rope you one right up the middle.

Oh, fuck.

(CLICKS TONGUE)

Sport mackin', huh?

Let's have at it. Give me some of your best lines.

So my dick died. Can I bury it in you?

Well, that pickup line was about as off-putting

as I thought it was going to be,

so I'm gonna give you this here Valentines,

and then... Let's never speak again.

Happy Valentine's Day.

Okay.

"Let's stick together."

I don't get it.

May I speak candidly with you?

I've never known you to require permission.

I jerked off so hard before coming here,

I passed out when I got up.

Had my hand not landed in the fish tank

to keep me alert,

I may still be laying there.

(BLOWS)

I overheard Reilly and Jonesy

playing that "Who would you rather take down" game,

I was like, "No," you know.

I'd just rather jerk off.

You jerk off before coming here?

Hey, what's wrong with a man wanting his steak well-cooked?

Is that criminal? No.

Well, we just... We just jerked off.

Doesn't bother me.

But I get it.

Thanks.

What are you doin' later?

(WHISTLES) Ding-dong.

Toughest fourth-liner who's smaller in stature. Go.

Cam Janssen. Mmm-hmm.

Aaron Asham. Mmm-hmm.

PJ Stock. Prusty.

Rick Rypien. Derek Dorsett.

Those guys aren't really in the same category,

but Chris Neil was a fucking underrated killer, eh?

Darcy Hordichuk.

And I wouldn't fuck with Marty McSorley.

I wouldn't fuck with Stu Grimson.

I'll tell you what, though.

I'd follow Eric Godard into battle.

Only guy who ever really handed it to Boogaard.

Mmm-hmm. Mmm-hmm. Mmm-hmm.

All right, Brian McGrattan and Shawn Thornton. Last call.

Gail's orders.

So you wanna grab a few after this?

Always follow a hick to a second location.

Don't... Don't fucking make this weird.

Um, look, I need to pay for this. I got an idea.

Pitter-Patter.

Oh, Stewart, don't try so hard.

Glen, square up with you. You can keep the change.

Mind if I grab a few for the road?

You're not driving anywhere, Deryk Engelland.

No, you are.

(WHISTLING)

Okay, I'll just get some beers and meet you at the car.

Okay, so before the final roundel-lee-ler...

Uh, Gail? What?

Gotta pay to play.

Mmm-hmm.

Okay, that'll do it.

Okay. Uh, now, as a policy,

I like to leave before the end of the event.

That way, if any of youse gets handsy when it isn't handy,

and youse look like a handsy bunch, I'm not liable.

But can I just say this.

Don't call me again, okay?

I have heard conversations about mitts and holes,

and jerking off.

I'm sorry. It's not who I am.

And, uh, this whole thing,

it's supposed to be about lovel-lee-ler.

And you's are cruising to loosel-lee-ler.

ALL: You'll never find love if you're looking for it.

It's when you're not looking...

You're not even gonna try to finish the sentence?

Hmm?

No? That's great. That's great.

You know what? I don't even care, anyway.

Good luck, fuckers.

I don't give a shit about this. I'm professional.

Who would you rather take down? Dax or Ron?

Neither.

Makes sense. You're straight.

I'd just rather jerk off.

How'd you like to pen up with this old goat?

(SIGHS) You know what? Whatever.

Whatever gets me out of this whole Dax,

Ron and Roald conversation.

And whether or not they're gonna take him down

is what everyone's on about, so... God.

Should we take him down?

All warmed up and ready to trot in from the bullpen.

Playoff rules in this series.

You know what that means.

Three-man rotation.

BOTH: Roald?

(GASPS) Forgive me.

Well, someone found love when they were looking for it.

Waste of time.

I don't care what you wanna call it.

Just whatever gets us past this whole narrative.

This whole "Dax and Ron taking down ol' Roaldy" narrative.

Didn't really get a lot of praccy in, buddy.

Yeah, I just kinda just got to sit across

from dudes all day, buddy.

Did learn a few things, though. Yeah? Like what?

All butts are gay but not all gays have butts.

Nice, bro. (CHUCKLES NERVOUSLY)

Yeah.

Yeah.

Not easy meetin' new gals in a small town.

I think you only finds love when you're nots looksing fors it.

I don't really know what I expected.

Well, you's can expect this.

From mes to youse. Oh.

I'm having the greatest Valentime's

of my life, good buddy.

It's a beaver.

Yeah.

Happy Valentine's. Thanks, good buddy.

I wonder what Wayne got up to?

If he's lucky... (CLICKING TONGUE)

This thing on?

Freddy Brathwaite. Corey Hirsch.

Darcy Wakaluk. Robb Stauber.

Daren Puppa.

He ended up starting in Tampa. You're right.

Kay Whitmore. WAYNE: Nice one.

Nice one, Iafrate.

Nice one, MacInnis.

Everyone spent the day looking for love

at speed dating except these two.

And lookie here what happened.

I guess it goes to show you...

You're never gonna find love when you're looking for it.

WAYNE: Heads up! It's when... (SCREAMS)

Wayne, I wasn't looking!

Look, if you're gonna come to the game,

you keep your eye on the puck.

You don't wanna get dinged.

Great advice from another tough guy.

Don Cherry. Let's go.

I don't know much about hockey ball,

but I don't think this is the game.

Thank you for the tip, Wayne.

Oh, and thank you for the tip at the bar.

Mwah. Bless you. You tipped?

What do you mean? You tipped the waitress?

I tipped Glen, yeah. How much?

20%.

How much would you have tipped?

Zero percent. Zero percent?

I don't tip.

You don't tip your server?

Um, I've been to Australia, okay?

I'm... Part Australian?

STEWART: Ow!

Yeah, I guess it's about time a horn sounded on this thing.

Okay, let's go. I'm cold.

(UPBEAT MUSIC PLAYING)

Repair and Synchronization by Easy Subtitles Synchronizer 1.0.0.0