Original subtitles

**

For Cultural Appreciation Day,

I'm honoring 4,000 years of Jewish tradition

by circumcising this unrealistically long

Hebrew National.

You can see why the ladies think it looks...better.

(chomp)

**

(girl shrieks)

(shoes clacking)

Wooden click-clack shoes are the best part

of being Dutch!

But the wooden underwear

gives me splinters in my nether lands.

You guys are so lucky.

My dad won't tell me anything about our heritage.

He says being American is enough.

Really? I thought that outfit

was some kind of religious get-up

because you wear it every day.

And it's really unflattering.

(sighs)

Everyone has cool cultural traditions except me.

I don't even know what I am.

Guys!

My arms are from Uzbekistan,

and my legs are from Thailand.

My right eye is from India,

and my left eye is from a dairy cow.

Even this monster has a better sense

of his cultural identity than I do.

Steve, having friends who are monsters

doesn't mean you can use the "M" word.

Spaghetti and meatballs.

Gotta love my peeps!

Wait, Principal Lewis,

Italian food is part of your culture?

What should I be eating, Steve?

What should a man with my physical attributes be eating?

Something from a different part of the world, perhaps?

A certain continent?

Should I be wearing a different kind of clothing

while eating it?

Enlighten me, Steve.

What should I be eating?!

Uh...

Deez nuts?

Your silver tongue has gotten you

out of yet another scrape, Smith.

(patriotic music plays)

* Good morning, U.S.A. *

* I got a feelin' that it's gonna be a wonderful day *

* The sun in the sky has a smile on his face *

* And he's shinin' a salute to the American race *

**

* Oh, boy, it's swell to say *

-* Good -- * -* Good morning, U.S.A. *

Aah!

**

* Good morning, U.S.A. *

**

Dad, check out my new project.

This isn't another lame science fair experiment, is it?

No, I-I'm making a family tree --

No. I'm talking about this.

All of this.

The simulation.

Uh...no.

I'm making a family tree

so I can find our family's roots.

So far, all I have is you and mom, Jack, and your mother.

Oh, a-a-and you have a brother, too, right?

When it's convenient, yes.

Well, since Mom and Hayley are out of town,

I was hoping you'd help me fill in the empty branches.

Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm.

(flame whooshes)

Dad, what the hell?!

It doesn't matter where we came from.

We're Americans, the badass super-people all of humanity

has been evolving to become!

But everyone in school has neat cultural traditions and stuff!

Cultural traditions?

Amber waves of grain, man.

Purple mountains majesty, man.

America made Bud, Bud Light, Bud Select,

and don't forget the mistake at the factory

that graced us with Budweiser: Oops, All Hops!

You realize you set my project on fire

and then gave me a speech that was ultimately about beer, yes?

'Merica.

**

Thanks for agreeing to meet out here on my new balcony.

I thought it would be nice to enjoy the fresh air,

be surrounded by my plants.

Did you know "balcony" might be Latin for "air terrace"?

I actually have a problem I need to talk out, and --

Let's put a pin in that.

I gotta turn the sausages on the grill behind you,

but I feel like I won't be able to fit past the table.

Come on, Roger.

Actually, I'm gonna put you in charge

of the sausages since you're closer.

Sausage Steve.

That's how I'll remember it.

-Mnemonic device. -Roger!

I want to find my cultural roots,

and Dad's refusing to help!

(sausages sizzling)

Fine, I'll turn the damn sausages.

That's only one sausage, Sausage Steve.

Honestly, I'm starting to wonder how you even got that name.

I looked into taking a DNA test,

but I'm not old enough.

Who says you have to use your DNA?

**

(snoring)

The door's not locked. We can walk right in.

Oh, come on. I thought we agreed

we were doing a whole stylized heist thing.

Let's just get my dad's DNA before we wake him up.

(snoring)

Are you crazy?!

The best DNA is in the fluids --

saliva, blood, semen.

And I know a way to get all three at once.

It's called --

We're not doing whatever it's called.

Okay, then. Plan "B."

I whisper some really dirty stuff in Stan's ear.

Like, filthy.

You're down there with a ziplock baggie,

waiting for nature to take its course.

Look!

(snoring)

Well, I can still do my part of Plan "B."

It was a dark and horny night.

The hospital furnace was broken,

and the nurses were huddling together to keep warm.

Did I mention this was the sex pervert hospital,

Geyser Permanente?

Ohh, God!

**

Mom, thank you so much for traveling the country

with me to all these Sub Hubs to narc out bad employees.

And thank you for the free trip to the Wichita, Kansas!

I haven't seen many witches yet, but I'll be ready when I do!

Being a secret shopper is a lot of pressure.

If I don't bust someone, corporate will assume

that I'm on the take, and I'll get fired!

Welcome to Sub Hub, home of the Sub Hub Hub Sub.

Are you a member of the Sub Hub Hub Sub Grub Club, bub?

Shit, I've never heard anyone say that right.

(lowered voice) Stick to your guns.

Ahem. I hope my order's not too...

complicated, but...

one six-inch on wheat, two slices of dry turkey,

one slice of wet ham, half a slice of roast beef,

shredded, four pickles, two olives,

and exactly the amount of spicy mustard

you can make from 14 mustard seeds.

Here you go. Anything else?

Maybe a little help with closing your mouth?

She touched you!

That has to be against the rules.

Actually, at Sub Hub, touching the customer is encouraged.

Everybody living their best life?

Mwah! Mwah!

(mop sloshes)

**

Huh. An e-mail from Farmville

saying I'm the last one playing.

-I guess I win! -(cellphone chimes)

"Stan Smith, your DNA test results have been finalized"?

"Click here to learn where your ancestors came from."

Steve! Downstairs, now!

-Yes, Papa? -Does this have something to do

with that powerful wet dream

I had about that hospital the other night?

Uh...

Stealing my DNA? That's fraud!

You signed up for this test.

You delete the e-mail.

All right.

But this link could be our link

to a whole world of possibilities.

**

-(bicycle bell dings) -* We could be Frenchmen *

* With bikes and baguettes *

* We could be Italian with long cigarettes *

* We could be Vikings who plunder the sea *

* These are a few of the things we could be *

Are we allowed to do this?

These are kind of broad stereotypes.

* We could be Greek guys in sandals and togas *

* We could be Indian practicing yoga *

* We could be half Aussie and half Japanese *

-* These are a few of the things we could be * -(boomerang whooshes)

Okay, the boomerang chopsticks thing was kinda cool.

* We could be Scots *

* We could be Poles *

* We could be Dutch lads *

* If you simply consider the things we could be *

* All of them seem *

* So rad *

(final flourish plays)

Do you still want me to delete it?

Of course! What was that?

You got footprints all over the couch!

I can't, Dad! I gotta know!

(gasps)

I am...

100% Canadian?!

Isn't that cool, Dad?!

No! It's terrible!

Canada's the cheap knock-off of America.

America is Oreos, and Canada is Hydrox!

Steve, when you realize how bad this news is, come comfort me.

I'll be crying feeble Canadian tears in my study.

(sobs)

I like Canada.

STAN: No, you don't!

**

A real live human being!

I haven't spoken out loud in days!

Hello, Tuttle.

I'm going door to door admitting my secret shame --

I'm...Canadian.

Neat! I'm Tuttle!

That's my secret shame.

-Oh, you got a new flag! -What the hell?

Hey, Dad! Wanna hear a Canuck-nuck joke?

That's a Canadian knock-knock joke.

Canuck-nuck!

(deeper voice) Who's there?

(normal voice) This just in.

(deeper voice) "This just in" who?

(normal voice) This Justin Trudeau guy

won't stop doing blackface, eh?

What's with all this Canada crap?

I've been studying the traditions

of our Canadian ancestors.

Instead of Dunkin' Donuts, they have Tim Horton's Donuts.

Instead of milk cartons, they have milk bags.

And instead of Game of Thrones, they have Drake,

who sits upon the throne as king of the rap game.

(tires screech)

Right on time!

Thanks a lot, Steve!

Look, I made Klaus a moose, the noble Canadian beast.

Ugh! Look at these antlers!

I'll never wear a turtleneck again!

(loud crash)

I've been Canadian for like one day,

and my life is in shambles.

(sighs) Okay, I give up.

Let's go do American stuff.

How about I make us some pancakes with maple syrup?

We eat it while watching Mike Myers movies,

then discuss our favorite Michael Bublé songs.

Okay, these sound like things I can get on board with.

Aha!

All those things are Canadian!

What a dirty trick!

How dare you use pancakes against me!

-(horse whinnies) -Excuse me.

I'm looking for Stan Smith.

A DNA test company sent me to take him on a tour

of his ancestral village, Smithville, Canada.

Dad! Get out here!

STAN: Screw you, Steve! You ruined my life!

-I'm Stan Smith. -Great, sir!

Hop on up!

This is exciting!

But I hope not too exciting, or it wouldn't be Canadian.

**

Wow! Here we are in Sin City!

-It's pronounced "Cincinnati." -Huh.

Well, either way, this place

has a whole lot more witches than Wichita.

Mom, focus. I got a new plan.

Sub Hub wants their cashiers to push people

to order more stuff than they want.

It's called "upselling."

But if I can get out of here with just a bag of chips

and a cup of water, we'll have someone to write up.

Damn it, they're good!

Meat thief. Meat thief.

This is my big chance to make a bust.

-We gotta tail him! -To the meat mobile!

**

Goddamn witches, man.

Thanks for agreeing to have this conversation

on my new balcony, Stan.

Fine, whatever.

Unfortunately, the new bird feeder

I put up seems to be attracting crows,

but that's balcony life.

(crow caws)

(crow shrieks, neck snaps)

Did you know "crow" might be Latin for "air steak"?

Roger! You said you had important news about Steve!

Oh, yeah, Steve.

I-I saw him ride off on horseback

with a Canadian Mountie.

Those Canadian bastards!

How am I going to get him back?

I really started to drag right around Vermont.

But now that we crossed the border and I had that

Kind bar, I feel totally re-energized.

**

All done, my boy.

What do you think aboot your new jean jacket, eh?

Well, I'm an acid-wash man, but it'll do.

Silence! A moose approaches.

Dad! You came!

Welcome to Smithville, Canada!

I refuse to be welcomed.

Too late!

'Cause here come your long-lost relatives.

I'm your cousin Jeffrey, eh!

Uh, don't worry, that bulge in my jeans

is just a can of Molson.

And I'm your Uncle Carl, ya hoser!

And this ain't no Molson in my pocket.

It's a grade-A Canadian rager!

Aw, look at you!

You're as cute as a beaver on a hockey puck!

That must be one tiny beaver.

Hi, I'm Stan.

**

I bet he's stealing one piece of ham a day

and selling it on eBay.

I bet he's collecting ham slices

so he can squish them all together and make a whole pig!

**

An animal shelter?

Told ya he was making a pig.

(dogs barking)

(suspenseful music plays)

(dogs whimpering)

Ugh!

He's just giving food to needy animals.

I can't bust him for that.

(meat squishes)

(cackles, laughing)

Or, maybe he's a gross pervert.

-(whimpers) -Freeze, scumbag!

Sub Hub Internal Affairs!

-(spray hisses) -Aaaaah!

What's that, scumbag?

Did you just say, "Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble"?

Mom, no! He's no good to us dead!

**

* O, Stan and Steve *

* This is your native land *

* We welcome you *

* Enjoy the feast at hand *

-(cheering) -(hockey sticks tapping)

I get it now.

Canada's not a knock-off of America.

It's our minor leagues!

They test out a bunch of stuff,

and whenever something's good enough,

we call it up to the big leagues of the USA, like Jim Carrey!

-And hockey! -And lentils!

For real, look it up.

I'm glad you're coming around, Dad,

but something feels a little off about this place.

Hey, there. Can I top you off, yeah?

Wait, milk from a carton? Not a bag?

A-And this bacon is crispy American strips,

not floppy Canadian circles.

I'm sure it's nothing.

But what self-respecting Canadian would serve

Krispy Kreme doughnuts instead of Tim Horton's!

First you bug me about embracing our heritage,

and now that I do, you're trying to take it away from me?

We Canadians have a word for that, Steve -- beaver-shit.

(goose call honks)

Listen up, eh!

Let's welcome our two newest Smiths

with a ceremonial toast of maple syrup!

(squeaks, drips)

To Frank Zamboni

and his miraculous ice-smoothing machine!

(gulps)

**

What happened?

Where is everyone?

Oh, we -- we must have been drugged.

Aaah!

There's a big cut in my tummy!

Me, too! Incisions everywhere!

-(thud) -(groans)

(gasps)

They stole your organs.

Our relatives?

It's all a scam.

The DNA tests you took were to find matching donors

for their billionaire clientele.

Wait. You mean we're not Canadian?

-We're billionaires? -No!

Your organs are being sold to billionaires,

just like mine.

-Oh, my God! -(gasps)

They can take my liver,

spleen, colon,

but they can't take my dignity!

(head thuds)

(farting)

But we're gonna be okay, right, Dad?

Of course we are.

Right after I rest all my muscles at the same time.

(bodies thud)

**

Dad, we can't survive long missing organs.

We have to get to a hospital.

Well, hold on, Steve. There's a silver lining to this.

We both just lost 10 pounds right before beach season.

(squishing)

Ooh, 11 pounds!

Come on, Dad. We need to find help.

Let me collect myself.

(inhales sharply, squishing)

(squish, splat)

Huh, guess that's not gonna stay.

Let's go get that help you were talking about.

I know just the place.

**

(door bell dings)

-Call a hospital. -Yeah.

Ever since our organs were harvested,

I've been feeling a little sluggish.

One of everything, please.

(exhales weakly) I can barely breathe.

(exhales) But maybe this bear claw

could replace my missing lung.

-(groans) -(slithers, pops)

(inhales sharply)

Oh, my God! It's working!

Let me try.

I've lost a ton of blood, but maybe

if I have a squirt of doughnut jelly...

(squirts)

Oh, yeah! Doughnut power, baby!

You know, "honey bun" kinda rhymes with "intest-tun."

And "maple bar" has the same number of letters as "butthole"!

(popping)

AUCTIONEER: That's one 42-year-old spleen!

Going once!

Bet you my new maple bar colon

those are our organs being auctioned in there.

AUCTIONEER: Going twice!

Sold!

Looks like someone's some spleenin' to do!

-(TV theme music plays) -Aaah!

Ahh!

(grunts)

**

STAN: Aykroyd.

Labatt.

Canadian.

Specifics.

Dad, what are you doing?

No, no, no, no!

We never even left the cabin!

Oh, it was all a hallucination!

(sobs)

This is all my fault.

I shouldn't have stolen your DNA.

Yes, I'm pretty sure that's the lesson here.

I don't think I've done anything wrong.

In fact, I'm heading back to my Tim Horton's hallucination

for a final doughnut.

That's it!

We'll get help at a Tim Horton's.

The Canadian Constitution requires there be one

every 300 meters!

(indistinct conversations)

Is anyone here a doctor?

Our organs have been stolen.

-(door bell dings) -I'm a doctor.

I'm sorry. You're missing a lung, a liver, and a colon.

I got an extra lung!

You can have my liver, eh!

Take my colon. I mostly pee.

Me first! Me first!

-(scalpel slicing) -(men screaming, grunting)

They're just giving us their organs?

Yeah, Dad.

The number-one cause of death in Canada is friendliness!

(men grunting)

(foghorn blows)

Huh. This is where the Sub Hub corporate office

told me to wait.

Hello! I'm Sebastian Hub,

Sub Hub's founder, CEO, and namesake.

Is that the troublemaker?

-Sir, yes, sir! -At ease, Ms. Smith.

Thank you for bringing this degenerate to me.

You're fired!

And you're hired to party with me full-time

on the Sub Hub Party Sub!

(water splashes)

-(dance music playing) -(indistinct conversations)

Wait, what the (bleep) is going on?

Look, it's pretty obvious.

I have a party sub.

I need a bunch of badasses to party with me.

Rule breakers are the best partiers,

and you just helped me find one.

(dance music continues)

But this freak's into bestiality!

Sounds like a "party animal" to me!

(klaxon wails)

On the bright side, he forgot his submarine.

Yeah, his shitty little one.

It doesn't even have lettuce on it.

That kind of attitude is why we're not on the party sub.

**

Well, here they are.

My real DNA test results.

This can't be right.

Why? W-What are we?

W-What's it say?

My credit card was declined.

(door smashes)

Quick! You gotta hide me!

It's moose season!

Who's hunting you around here?

(suspenseful cartoon music plays)

Shh! Be ve-wy, ve-wy quiet.

I'm hunting mooses.

Heh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh!

(cartoon exit music plays)

Bye! Have a beautiful time!

-- Captions by VITAC --