All language subtitles for Joe Dietsch & Louie Gibson - Happy Hunting

- Hello?

Who's this?

Do you speak English?

Habla ingles?

Habla ingles?

Yeah, I'll wait.

Hello?

Yeah, I know her.

But it's been...

Shit.

How did she die?

No, she didn't
have a kid.

Why are you telling
me this?

Wait, wait, you sure
it's mine?

Look, I get that but...

Isn't there anyone else
you can call?

Where in Mexico?

Okay.

Okay,
I'll call you back.

- What's up with you?

- I get the shakes.

- That happens if you
go cold Turkey.

- Haven't tried for
a while.

- How do you know
this guy?

- He's all right.

Been working for
big Dave.

- I ain't never seen
you before.

- I ain't been
around long.

- How much you want
for the shit?

- Whatever's fair.

- You hear about Randall?

- What?
Fat Shirley's Randall?

- No, randal from up
the road.

Old fucking wheelchair
Randall.

- Shit, yeah.

How's old boy doing?

- He dead.

- Get the fuck out
of here.

- You say this is
good shit?

Let's see if the lady
can dance.

I'll put five minutes
on the clock.

- C'mon, tell me, man.

How he dead?

- Well he won the scratchers,
ten grand.

- No kidding.

- Yeah well you know
his wife?

- Nah.

- Fucking hot.

I mean hot for
Randall at least.

Work down there at the
soap factory.

Man, ain't never any
body seen her so

much in love with the
motherfucker.

She been cooking for him,
and cleaning for him,

sucking on his
old cripple dick

from time to time.

Now the only
problem is,

old Randall started
getting real sick.

Puking over the
side of his wheelchair.

His fucking skin's
turning yellow,

his hair's falling out.

The genius he is,
thinks it's the booze,

so he goes on
the wagon.

But that shit
ain't helping.

Old Randall check himself
into the hospital.

Two days later, the
motherfucker's dead.

Doctors say they found
him filled to the

gills with industrial lye.

- Holy shit!

- Turns out his old lady
been sneaking it

into his food a little
at a time.

Stealing it from the soap
factory.

Angling on taking Randall's
scratcher money.

- Bitches, all of 'em.

- Hey, you got
three minutes left.

The fuck kind of crank
you trying to

push on us, hombre?

Some advil and baby
laxatives shit?

- That's a solid cook...

- Solid cook?
Fucking bullshit.

How'd you see this
thing playing out?

You sit the fuck down!

- I'm getting big Dave
down here right fucking now!

- Shit!

- Hey it's Warren.

I'm driving.

I can be at the border
by Thursday.

Look, I don't know exactly
where I'm going.

I need an address.

I'll call back.

- We're sorry, your call cannot
be completed as dialed.

Please check the number
and dial again.

We're sorry, your call cannot
be completed as dialed.

Please check the number
and dial again.

- This is Warren, again.

Look I'm close to
the border.

In some motel somewhere
in the middle of nowhere.

I need to know where
I'm going.

So until you call me back,
this is as far as I go.

- Staying or passing through.

- Just passing through.

Bedford flats?

- Yeah, founded by the
bedford corporation.

Hunting town, used to chase
buffalo out on

the salt flats till they
ran out of steam.

Something they picked up
from the Indians.

- Hunters, huh?

- Not for a long time.

- You're done, Bob.

Want me to get the
sheriff again?

Now finish up and get
on out of here.

Everyone's sick of
your shit.

- Hey bud!

Didn't catch your name.

- Warren.

- Steve.

So are you staying or
passing through?

- Just passing through.

- Wanted to give you
my number.

- Nah, it's cool.

- C'mon man, this isn't some
gay pick up thing.

I'm not coming
onto you,

I just collect
lost causes.

That's all.

- Thanks.

- Sticking around for
the festival?

- That's what these are?

- Yeah.

Yeah, the kids
make them.

They're great, huh?

- Sure.

- All right, well call me
anytime, bud.

Day or night, okay?

Warren: Look, you called me.

I'm ready to head across
the border,

I want to help the kid.

But you got to tell me
where to go.

Call me back.

- While you're travelling
America's highways

and by ways.

You may just want to make
an unscheduled

stop in a little place called
bedford flats.

Bedford flats is
a community that cares

and a community
that hunts.

That's right, we share our
desert home with

some of the most
diverse wildlife in

the United States.

Including bison, duck,
and white tailed deer.

Yes, from the birds in
the sky to the fish

in our waters, everything is
fair game.

And thanks to the fishing
game act of 1895

it's open season all
year round,

driving our little town's
bustling economy.

And of course, the annual
bedford flats

hunting festival is truly
an affair for the

whole family to enjoy.

It's the way we've
always done it,

and the way we'll always do
it in out little town.

Tradition, without it we're
nothing.

- The truck's just down
the road.

Wallet's in the glove
compartment.

- I'm not supposed to...

- I'll come right back.

Scouts honor.

Steve: Hello?

- It's Warren,
from the meeting.

- Hey bud, about time
you called.

- I need help.

- I am so glad you
reached out.

- Yeah I'm ready to
make a you know, change.

- Everybody gets sick
and tired

of being sick
and tired, bud.

We'll get you up and
running in no time.

- So have you ever served
in the military?

- Yeah in basic training.

I mean just a few months but
didn't really work out.

- Can I ask
what happened?

- I stole a helicopter.

- You can fly
a helicopter?

- Well like I said,
it didn't really work out.

- So do you exercise?
Do you work out?

- Like in the gym
and shit?

No.

- When Steve was in
his disease,

he didn't get off
the couch.

- Say you mind if
i hit the head?

- Just down the hall
to the left.

- Yeah, thank you.

- Staying or passing through?

- Just meeting a friend.

- You didn't mention
you had a kid.

- I don't.

- There's a bedroom.

- Christopher was supposed
to be his name.

- Sorry?

- Cheryle was pregnant.

And she got so excited
when the doctor

told her she was gonna
have a boy that

she decorated the room.

Decided he was gonna be
a baseball player.

And one night I was high,
i pushed her down,

she lost the baby.

But I got
a second chance.

You ever gone cold Turkey
before?

Most people don't die
from drinking.

They die from
quitting drinking, bud.

That's a fact.

It starts with
the shakes,

at least it did
for me.

And then your
vision goes.

Motor skills, thought process,
seizures.

Peaks at twenty-four hours.

- Well I appreciate the
encouragement.

- Sorry.

Sorry.

- You shouldn't go through
other people's

medicine cabinets.

But if there's one thing
you can count

on is that junkies will
be junkies.

Hey bud.

- Damn hombre.

You fucked up real proper
this time.

- Soon as these
cuffs come off,

you're fucking dead.

- I shouldn't be here!

I shouldn't be here!

Let me out!

- Well, glad you boys
could make it.

Warren, right?

- This motherfucker stole
my merch.

My beef's with him.

- Not my problem, friend.

All right, all right.

Now you boys
shut the hell up.

- Man fuck y'all!

You hear me you
crazy old prick?

- Fuck you!

- That's my grandson,
junior.

Dumb as a bucket
of nails,

but he sure can lay down
an ass whooping.

Hello bedford flats!

How we feeling tonight?!

We've gathered here
once again to

remember where
we came from

before the great
herds died off

and men of low moral
character overran our gates.

Men like the five we
have here tonight.

Bad men.

In their own way,
they are all a burden

on our community.

Never forget that we
are a town of hunters.

Great herds may be
long gone,

but we know who
we are.

Tradition! Without it,
we're nothing.

So we're going to
play a game.

It's not a game so we might
forget our troubles,

but so we might remember
our past.

The rules are simple.

You run,
we hunt you.

We catch you, we kill you.

That's pretty much the
extent of it.

Welcome to the hunt!

- Please sheriff, please!

I promise I won't
drink anymore.

- I told you to put
down the bottle,

I gave you chances.

- I won't.
I won't!

I promise not to
drink anymore.

- Lay down with dogs,
you get up with fleas.

- Look at me!

I'm not going to
make it!

No one does!

- Bob! Bob! Look at
your poor folks.

Look what you've
done to them.

People are sick of
your shit!

All right, all right.

I'd like to introduce you to
this year's hunters.

First up, know him,
love him,

probably buy your
beer from him.

Here for his twelfth
consecutive year,

my main man,
don Lincoln!

Next up, I've known these
three hell raisers

since before they
could crawl.

And they were as mean
then as they are now,

the wakowskis!

And finally,
a real success story,

and one of the
nicest guys around.

Steve Patterson, hunting with
his lovely wife, Cheryl.

All right now let's cut
these boys loose.

- Get the fuck out of
my way!

Get out of my way!

- Seeing as the only one
of you who's

familiar with this
whole situation,

running like
a bat out of hell,

may I suggest you
follow suit.

Somebody get me a drink!

- Need to have a sporting
chance, bud.

There's a light at the
end of the tunnel.

I found it,
and you can too.

- All right!
- Woo!

- Come on!

It's probably horse
tranquilizers and LSD

but what the fuck, right?

Slow it down.

We got a head start.

Now we should run.

- Stop! Stop!

I know what to do.

Just hold on,
i know what to do.

- Looks like first blood
goes to wakowski's.

- Why they doing this?

- It's just what we
do man.

It's like, like always.

It brings the community
together, you know?

- No I don't fucking know.

- Oh look man,
it's once a year.

It's not like an
every day thing!

- There's four of us.

We have to split up,
better odds.

- I'll see you on the other
side of this,

I'm still gonna kill you.

- Well cross that bridge
when we get to it.

- Yeah, we will.

- Stop!

- Run.

- Over here!

I got one!

Got one!

I got one! See!

- Kill confirmed.

- Looks like don snuck
in under the wire.

- He's- he's- he's
all yours!

Guys, i--
caught him for you!

Stop, stop!

I caught him for you.

He's- he's all yours!

- Get a picture.

- No man,
take it long ways.

- Who gives a shit?!

- It looks stupid tall ways.

Take it long ways, it looks
fucking cinematic!

- That's two.

- don, you motherfucker!

- Love you, honey.

- Love you more.

- Cheryl!

- Two of 'em made
it off the flats.

- Well, folks, you know
what that means.

Looks like we're
in overtime.

- Might want to check on
Steve and the wife.

- Copy that, big don.

- I'm heading out.

- So what happens if
you go cold Turkey?

- When's the last time they
off'd one of ours?

- Ninety-eight, I guess.
Burton mills.

- Only son of a bitch
that ever hunted

with his bare hands.

It was a bad idea,
i told him.

- Shit everybody did,
stubborn old bastard.

That was Steve's year.

Get in the car, boy!

- What the fuck, dude?!

- Psst.

- Where are we?

- That's the edge
of the flats,

which puts us
about here.

- Now what?

- Straight through
the border.

- Mexico?

- Last I checked,
there was a whole town

of freaks back
that way.

- You'll fucking shoot
them, right?

- There's one bullet here.

Listen, Mexico it's our
best bet.

- That gonna be okay?

- Guess we'll find out.

- Dope sick or what?

- Booze mostly.

You take this.

One bullet,
don't be a dipshit.

- Fuck yeah!

- Hello bedford flats this
is your sheriff.

I'm not gonna give you
a bum steer.

We had some ups and downs
out there today.

Our boy,
Bob didn't make it out.

It was the best thing
for him.

Condolences to his folks.

As most of you know,
Cheryl Patterson has

been pronounced dead.

Steve's getting the medical
attention that he needs.

We'll have him back on
his feet soon.

But keep him in
your thoughts.

He'll need us more than ever
when he comes to.

But I can assure you that the
men responsible

for these vicious acts will
not go free.

These men are weak
and poorly made.

It's only a matter of
time before

don and the wakowski's
catch up to them.

And when they do,
it will be painful.

That's a promise.

So keep your chins up,
bedford flats.

It's hunts like these that
brings us all together.

- Love you, honey.
- Love you more.

Cheryl!

- Bring them back
to me!

Bring them back to me!

- There's a radio!

It's not doing anything.

- What is that?

- Ethanol.

- Just leave me the
fuck alone, Barney!

- Steve, you're not well.

- Come on, just leave me
the fuck alone.

- Steve?
Steve?!

- We get to Mexico,
what then?

- Gotta be honest,
as far as Mexico goes.

It's a lateral move for me,
might fit right in.

- What do I do?

- Get to juarez,
find a consulate.

Hope they deport you.

- El Paso to outpost,
anyone copy?

This is El Paso,
anyone copy?

- Copy.

- Saw the grid light up.

Who am I talking to?

You with parks?

- No.

- Forest service?

- Dude, tell him!
Tell him! Tell him!

- Stop, would you
believe us?

We're backpackers.

- You're way off the trail.

How'd that shit happen?

- Look, my friend here
is injured.

Broken leg.

Can you get air transport
in here asap?

He's in a pretty bad way.

- Gonna be hell
on your insurance.

- We'll manage.

- Only problem.

Can't put down where
you're at.

No landing area.

- Okay, where ya thinking?

- I got an idea.

There's a radio beacon
a couple ranges back.

That's way your way out.

Go to the window.

I need you to get
eyes on it.

- Hang on.

- I don't see it!

- You boys looking?

- Yeah, we're looking.

- Good.

Now I got a question
for you.

- Yeah, what's that?

- You wanna see the
insides of this kid's head?

- Reach down, get the man

with the yellow shirt.

God has saved you.

You are sinners.

You will go to hell if you
don't do what you're told.

- Why are you
people doing this?

- Shit dude,
if you gotta ask,

you ain't never
gonna understa-

- understand.

- What?

- This is frank.

- Shit, frank,
it's the middle of

the damn night.

- Sheriff,
I'm aware of that.

But we've got what I think
you'd call a...Situation.

- Steve, you dumb son
of a bitch.

- Cerveza?

Bad men back there.

- There is bad men
everywhere.

- Not like this.

- Just leave it alone.

Good morning, bedford flats.

I wish you I could start
your day off right.

But once again I bring
you bitter news.

As some of you may
have already heard,

the body of Barney Erickson
was found

early this morning.

The cause of his death,
still under investigation.

This marks two of
our own that have been

brutality taken
from us in the last

twenty-four hours.

I will not rest until
those responsible

are brought to justice.

Keep your chins up,
bedford flats.

- Grandpa, can I ask
you a question?

- What?

- Do other towns...
Do this?

- When I was your age,
maybe a little younger,

I took a trip to Dallas
with the old man.

First time in
the city.

Saw a homeless gal
laying on the

sidewalk out cold.

I asked a cop if we
should try and help her.

Well he looked at me
like I was some kind of idiot.

You see,
in the city,

they let their
problems die,

slow right in front
of everybody.

Here, we take our problems
out behind

the woodshed and put
'em down proper.

You're too young
to remember, but...

This hunt can
help people.

- You take Steve.

He was raising all
kinds of hell.

Drinking and drugging.

Then that business
with the baby.

Well, folks got fed up.

Burnside: When I saw him
stumbling across the flats,

I thought,
this guy is dead meat.

But he showed us.

Beat in Burton mills' head
with a rock.

Figured we'd seen the
last of Steve.

Then a month later,

he shows up walking
down main street.

But you could see it
in his eyes.

He was a changed man.

- Yeah, well,
Chris Nelson said

we do this because
hunting people is fun.

- Well, I suppose there's
that too.

- Yeah.

When are you gonna
let me hunt?

- Not for a while yet.

- Well, looks like you're
going cold Turkey

after all, hombre.

You know, you got
a lot of nerve, man.

I'm practically the only
friend you got left.

- Most people, they don't
die from drinking.

They die from
quitting, bud.

That's a fact.

- It starts with
the shakes,

at least it did
for me.

And then your
vision goes.

Motor skills, thought process,
seizures.

Peaks at twenty-four hours.

Oh, shit.

You're gonna wanna bite
down on something, boy.

- Come on, man.
You can do it.

I got faith in you, man.

I got all the faith in
the world in you,

you sorry motherfucker.

Bo dawg: You know an
animal in a trap,

they'd gnaw their own
leg off to survive, but...

You ain't got the rocks,
do you?

So we both know how
this ends.

You'll be damned if
some burnout desert

psycho put you lights
out for good.

No way, Jose.

Not you.

But where we're going,
you and me,

people get it.

They get us.

- Do me a favor.

Get fucked.

- Hello bedford flats.

This is your sheriff.

It's been a tough
few days out here.

I know this year hasn't
been the most fun,

but we're gonna bring
Steve back safe and sound.

The man's been
through hell.

Keep your chins
bedford flats.

- Grandpa,
when we find Steve,

we're gonna
kill 'em, right?

- Well that depends
on Steve.

- When I'm hunting,
I'm gonna kill everyone.

- We got a dead man
back in town.

- You got a lotta
dead men, boss.

- You know what I'm
talking about!

You got his gun
in your belt.

- What?
This one?

- Don't you fucking move!

- Stay back.

You're in no condition
to hunt.

Time to call the game.

- Just shoot him, grandpa.
Just shoot him!

- Shut the fuck up!

Now this Warren,
he's just one man.

And you don't know
where he is.

- But I know where
he's gonna be!

- Give it up, Steven.

- How do you think
i hid from you

crazy fuckers for a
whole fucking month

back in
ninety-eight, huh?!

How?!
Cause I know!

I know where he's
gonna be!

- Grandpa, I got him!

- Shut the hell up!

- Now how you holding
for road flares?

- Eat shit, motherfucker!

- Corn fed motherfucker!

That's why you
never hunted.

You never could
fucking shoot!

- I thought you were
a changed man, Steven.

Radio: Sheriff?
Sheriff, are you there?

Sheriff?

Sheriff, this is frank.
Do you copy?

- Hey frank,
is that you?

- Steve?

- No.

This-
this is sheriff speaking.

- Steve, where are you?

What's happening?

Put the sheriff on.

- Okay, okay, okay. Okay.

Okay, let's get
serious now.

This is the
sheriff here,

and I just want to
say to all you

faggots in bedford flats,
have a real happy hunt.

- You son of a bitch.

- Okay.

No more fucking around.

I think that we should
change up the hunt.

I know you guys are
all stuck on this

deliverance hillbilly
buffalo hunting bullshit.

I think we should
do a more

all-American sport.

I think we should get
rid of this shit

and do some baseball.

Good ol' American baseball.

What do you
think, sheriff?

- Wait-

- hey bud.

Where you going?

Come on,
have a drink.

Run!

Run!

Run!

- That hurts, doesn't it?

- You know what?

You're a real fun guy.

We should hang out
more often.

Say cheese!

I told you there was
a light at

the end of the tunnel,
didn't I motherfucker?

The last time I was
down here I was

the one being hunted.

The place looks
great, doesn't it?

Drink up, bud.

Cigarette?

- Cheers, bud.

- Tequila.

This gringo is wasted.

Tequila.