All language subtitles for Letterkenny s09e04 Mitzvah.eng

Your pal's invited his
sweetie out for a double date

with you and your
sweetie the other day...

'Cause I want to see how
she'd do in regular

old conversation
with my good buddies.

Define regular.

Well, alls we ever
talks about is sex.

Tough life.

I'm figuring
with you twos here,

we could engage her in just
some regular old conversation.

Oh, so,
it's regular you want.

Regular conversations.

Nothing fancy,
just regular conversation.

"Regulier" as
the French say.

Leave out anything
quirky or clever.

Just regular conversation.

"Regolare" as the
Italians would say.

No patterns or
devices included.

Nothing creative during
this regular conversation.

"Regelmessig"
as the Norwegians would say.

- You want to regulate.
- Mount up.

In any event,
I'm just really hoping

the topic doesn't
turn to sex.

BOTH:
'Kay.

(Door opening)

ELLEN:
Hi, Daniel.

Hello.

- I'm Wayne.
- I'm Rosie.

I'm Ellen.

BOTH:
Pleased to meet you.

ELLEN:
Likewise.

Ellens, can I gets
yous a beers?

Why don't I get
you a beer, Dan?

Oh, well, that
would be lovely.

Wayne, Rosie,
do you like beer?

Of Coors.

You Labatt
your ass we do.

WAYNE:
You know what? I haven't seen Gail in a hot sec.

Maybe we could convince her
to Moose-head on over.

She was whipping up some
Carlsbergers last I checked.

Best Kronen-burgers
in Letter-Heineken-ny.

Ellen, Dan told us
you were a pretty gal,

but you could be
a Modelo.

Michel-low bones.

Gailer. You havin'
a lazy Mols-Sunday?

Yes, I suppose it
Beck's the question.

'Lil tour of
Tsing-town and country?

WAYNE: Wee bit of
Carling-ering about?

Whatever's Guinness-essary
for a little R&R, you know?

Don't need to
Ams-tell me, Rosie.

Just takin'
it Dos Eq-easy.

Livin' the Miller
High Life.

I was booking
my Pabst smear.

'Cause Peroni-eedless
to say,

I don't take
this Bud Lightly,

done so much
toe-curlin' this quarter,

I'm pert' near
Strongbow-legged.

- Better trim your
Anheuser bush. - Ellen!

I'm light on bush, actually.
I'm Busch Light.

Good. Makes it
easier for the gyno

to inspect your
Stella Ar-twat.

Not the most ideal time
for Alexander Queef's, eh?

Hey, if you've
got the Schlitz...

Fella told me one time,

I had a scent that could
only be described as Bohemian.

Once a Blue Moon, I also smell
like the Pacifico.

Something straight
out of Bavaria.

Not to Harp on
it all day, but...

That's the risk
you take

exploring this
Old Speckled Hen.

It's as if sometimes,
I just bare no Sol.

You'll see all the bad habits
this lifestyle Foster's.

Do they still make you
Rolling Rock a piss into a cup?

They do.
But careful...

they can test
your pee for Kok-an-E.

The Coro-nads
on doctors these days.

GAIL: You know,
doctors do the most

Molson Dry-rips
of anyone, right?

Still, I wouldn't mind one
between my Smith-wickets.

Anyhoo!

I like her.

Never takes long,
does it?

Yeah, a wee bit of a mix
of relief and disbelief

they omitted one.

Red Stripes?

Yeah.

(Theme song playing)

♪

Fuckin' I'm hungover.

- Dary, you hungover?
- I'm hungover.

- Katy, hungover?
- Yeah, I'm hungover.

- Dan, hungover?
- I'm hungsovers.

- Hey, Rosie, you hungover?
- I'm hungover.

Fuck, boys.
We're hungover.

- I've got the skulls cramps.
- Yeah, I'm knee walkin'.

- Who's cookin', good lookin'?
- Not me, chickpea.

- What're we s'posed do then?
- Figure it out.

That's what I said,
said figure it out.

No one wants to cooks
when they're hungsovers.

You know what?
I don't want to cook ever.

Consider how long
it takes to cook

versus how long
it takes to eat.

It's like driving for
an hour to the movie theatre

to watch a five
minute short film.

But dudes who
can cook...

Oh, dudes who
can cook can get it.

- Like whos?
- Wolfgang Puck.

- Wolfgang Fuck.
- Bobby Flay?

- Bobby Lay.
- David Changs?

- David Bang.
- Gordon Ramsay?

- Gordon Rams-me.

Fucks with his
hair too much.

Well, I guess
it's good that Gail

started serving
brunch at MoDean's today.

- Is she really?
- You heard it here first.

But don't you think
brunch is a little bit, "Hmm".

Oh, I 100 percent think
brunch is a bit "Hmm".

You could just as easily
call it late breakfast

and avoid the "Hmm".

Yeah, the term "brunch"
definitely what

makes it a bit "Hmm".

Well, since none of us feels
like cooking and Gail does,

Why don't we boot over
to MoDean's for some,

"Hmm, brunch."

Oh, fuck, I'd boot over.
Rosie, boot over?

- I'll boot over.
- Dan, boot over?

- I'ds boot overs.
- Katy, boot over?

- Yeah, I'd boot over.
- Dary, boot over?

I'm surprised we're
not bootin' over right now.

Fuck, boys.
Let's boot it.

Did you know that China's
having a shortage of ninjas?

Well, should we go?

REILLY:
Wrong way, Coach.

Game starts in 15.

Yeah, and if you can't carry
your bag into the rink,

you really shouldn't
be playing hockey.

- Game's cancelled.
- Why?

There's not enough bodies
on the other team.

Why?

'Cause it's Sunday morning
beer league hockey, you pheasant.

I'm sorry.

- What do we do then?
- Guys...

Guys, beer league hockey's
not about playing hockey.

Sure, the Ws are really nice,
but it's more about

having some beers
with the boys, you know,

before, during and
after the game.

Friendship.
Comradery.

You know, maybe like a nice
autumn gourd cream ale

or maybe a Danny
Pinley friendly IPA?

Just a hint of honey.

Sayin' all that,

why don't us three go
for a beer right now?

Well, Sunday's wide open,
buddy. What's the plan?

Better think
of something, bro.

Idle mind's
the devil's playground.

Kids in sports
stay off streets.

You thinkin' what
I'm thinkin'?

Sex?

BOTH:
With girls!

Wheel, snipe,
celly, boys.

Wheel, snipe,
cell phones.

Wheel, snipe,
sold me.

Stick taps and
dating apps, 'ferda.

How's your swipe
game, buddy?

Buddy, I'm swipin'
on all four cylinders.

I'm legendary REM
front man Michael Swipe. You?

I'm Rowdy Roddy Swiper.

Rippin' tarps off
puck pics on my Tinder.

Clutch.

Mandatory pic of fish you once
caught for added depth.

Rippin' dog pics and suited
up snaps on my Bumble.

A dapper look,
appealing to

the "ladies have
first choice" ordeal. Wise.

Rippin' travel pictures
and food pics on my Hinge,

with one well thought out
Office reference.

DunderMif.

- Waitlisted for Raya.
- Over-Raya-ted.

I gotta say
though, bro,

I fear we're fast
approaching a world

where we've smashed
every smashable broad

within 100 fiscal
kilometres of Letterkenny.

Sometimes I match with
a broad and I'm like,

"I would smash
that broad",

but then I cruise
through her pics

and realize I've
already smashed her.

Tinder, Bumble, Hinge,
all dry. Waitlisted for Raya.

Over-Raya-ted.

What do we do till
we get on Over-Raya-ted?

Perhaps I can help.

Who are you?

Avi Goldstein.
Aka Goldon Bombay.

- Tight.
- Aka The Gold & The Beautiful.

- Sick.
- Avenged SevenGold.

- Nice to meet you.
- We met last week.

- Really?
- Yeah, I was your line mate.

Set you up for a double
hattie. Don't remember?

Respectfully, Goldzie,
whenever I see wheels on a hockey bag,

I just kinda forget about
everything else after that.

Want my help
or not?

Uh... All right,
just try to focus, buddy.

I'll also try to focus.

Yes.

- You ever heard of JSwipe?
- REILLY: No.

It's a dating app
just for Jews.

- JONESY: Are you Jewish?
- Full Jew, buddy.

But... we're not--
we're not Jewish. Right?

- I don't think so.
- Doesn't matter.

You have the option
to set your profile

to "willing to convert".
Click that button,

start smashing Jewish
broads immediately.

- Really?
- Know how many Jewish broads I've smashed on there?

- How many?
- Four.

- Just four?
- Guess how many Jewish blowies, though.

- How many blowies, though?
- Two-sixty-five, 270.

Whoa. That's like a blowie
every single day of the year!

Yeah.

You guys are
looking at me right now like

you've never heard
about Jewish girl blowies.

Sorry.
I didn't mean to.

Yeah, clueless is just
kinda my resting face.

Growing up, Jewish girls go
to sleep away summer camp

every summer, where they
practice giving blowies

for like two months.

BOTH:
Oh!

You could get really
good at blowies

on a program
of that kind.

You'd be
Blowie Sevigny.

- Or Blowie Deschanel.
- David Blowie.

I feel like there's a lot you
guys don't know about Jews.

Allow me to give you your
Jewdification, Jews Clues,

bring you up to speed on
Jewish broads and their people,

so that you can
better navigate JSwipe.

Call me Jew Ferrigno.

I'm Jew Barrymore.

- Follow me.
- Sick.

Although, I gotta say, buddy,
if you can't carry your bag,

you really shouldn't
be playing hockey.

JONESY:
Yeah, it'd be really great

if you could carry it
the rest of the way.

Yeah, what good
are the wheels then?

JONESY: You know what, bro?
I'll just do it.

AVI: Hype.

Did you know that
Victoria's Secret

is having
a shortage of models?

Should we go?

Who's this coming
down the rabbit hole?

They can come
down my hole.

Cousint'...

Gail's got
the hangover hornies.

Ah, two guarantees on a
hangover: hungry and horny.

- As hell.
- Hey, Bonnie, you want me

to help you unbox that before
this place fills up?

There's so much for me to
work with in that sentence,

I may just fall over.

- Yawn.
- What ya gots theres, Bonnies?

A lotta eggs,
a lotta meat.

Eats, meats, repeats.

Love meat.

- Same.
- Yawn.

I loves meats so much,
I'd wears it.

Oh, like Lady Gaga at
the 2010 MTV Video Music Awards?

Inspired by the Canadian
artist Jana Sterbak.

Was she really?

I too might have an
interest in wearing meat,

although, it would have
to be cooked

or at the very
least cured.

Slip into a pair
of boxer beefs.

There's only one cure for
the hangover hornies, Gailer.

Let's get
hangover hammered.

Here we go now!

(Glasses clinking)

(Glasses clattering)

Alright,
GOAL-stein!

Goldon Lightfoot.

- Goldzie Hawn.
- Goldzie Howe!

Goldza Meir.

First female Israeli
Prime Minister...

- Sick.
- Tight.

Hype.
Alright, but listen,

LK's already got a major
shortage of Jewish broads.

I'm talking
single dijjies,

and I'm pretty much
the only full Jew in town,

which puts me in a very
advantageous position.

One that doesn't necessitate
you two goys coming in

and fucking
with my raysh.

- Did you just call us gays?
- Raysh?

"Goy" layman's term
for non-Jew

and "raysh" as in ratio,

as in I've got a hype
ratio going, all right?

I've been
wheel-snipe-cellying

like my Bar Mitzvah
money hasn't run out,

and I am not coming
down from this chair.

So, you're like
full Jew then, hey, bud?

Schnoz and all, boys.

- So you can't eat pig?
- I crush mad bacon, boys.

But don't Jews have to have
sex like Mennonites do,

where there's a sheet

between them and
the girl they're smashing?

I crush strictly
non-sheet snap, boys.

Don't get that twisted.
And also,

do you guys really think that
all Jews are exactly alike?

We're here
to learn, bro.

I know, and part of me still
wants to protect that raysh,

but there's this little thing
in my religion

called a mitzvah,

the act of doing
a selfless good deed

out of the kindness
of one's heart.

You're supposed to knock off
as many of these as you can.

You don't necessarily
actively pursue them,

they just somewhat
present themselves to you.

So, we're your
mitzvah boys?

Mitzvah men!

Class is
in session.

- Sick.
- Tight.

Hype.

Did you know Ibiza is
having a shortage of DJs?

Should we go?

(Sighing)

Stewart?

You know what
that was?

- A sigh.
- T'was.

When was it
we last ate?

Um, must've been
earlier tonight.

It's tomorrow.

How can it be tomorrow
if it's today?

The today you're
thinking of was yesterday.

Today is
yesterday?

(Sighs) What happened
last night?

You don't remember?

I recall an exclusive conclave
of cartridge gaming.

Mario Kart 64, 150cc
Acid Rainbow Road on repeat.

Four hours.
You were Peach.

She is so
fucking fine.

I was Toad.

Did we do
Banjo Kazoomers?

No, no, no.

We've still
got the mushrooms.

So... what
were we doing?

Chasing
the double dragon.

(Train whistle blowing)

What we need,
Roald...

is sustenance.

I got Connor and Darien to
load rips on a model train.

I mean actual food.

Well, Gail is hosting
a post-breakfast

pre-lunch over
at MoDean's.

(Scoffs)
A brunch.

A feast for the Peter
Pan-ian affected plebs.

The meagre populace.

- Roald?
- Stewart.

Let's brunch.

I'll get
our coats!

Wait!

Let's do a train
rip first.

Choo-choo.

Starting
to fill up.

Could fill me up.

Yawn.

Have a shot.

There must be four
separate people in here

wearing fedoras that
I've never seen before.

That one's a trilbys.

Y'know what?
That's why brunch is so

- "Hmm".
- Yup.

WAYNE:
Like, there's just something so fuckin' city about it.

Yeah. When have you ever
heard somebody

from town say,
"Let's do brunch."

Yeah, but you gotta
make a buck.

You're exempted,
cousint'.

Yeah, like, town people
don't say brunch,

just like town people
don't wear fedoras.

I know lots of town people
who wear fedoras.

But do you care to?

I don't have a problem with
people that eat brunch.

There's nothing wrong with
enjoying breakfast food

slightly after
lunch time.

My problem is with
people that brunch.

Yeah, it's the people that
want to make sure

everyone else knows
they're doing brunch.

It's like trying to
make brunch a thing!

Feel ya.

Ever been in the city on a
Saturday or Sunday morning?

There's line-ups out
the door for brunch.

I'm told that's
every day in Vancouver.

Could make a good buck
making eggs for the people in line.

Yeah, but, see, the people in
line wouldn't want 'em

because it's not
about the eggs

for the people in line,
it's about brunch.

There is nothing cute

about standing in line on
a Sunday for six hours,

drinking your alcoholic
orange juice in aviators

eating off a $30
artisanal cheese board,

listening
to gastro-house.

Atmospherica!

Restaurantica!

You're spare parts, bud.

DARY:
You're overstock.

You're clearance
items on final sales.

You're the
marked down floor model

that won't even sell
on Boxing Day, fuck.

Um... 'sup?

I am Matrix-style
dodging your insults.

And guess what? It worked.
None of them hit me.

Stewart!
(Groaning)

Some of the ricochet
got me.

It's gettin' dark.

What happened
to civility?!

ROALD: It's gettin'
real dark, Stewart.

What happened
to decency?!

I need
mouth-to-mouth, Cap.

No man left behind!

DARY:
Do you guys know there's

a shortage of rodeo clowns
at the Calgary Stampede?

KATY:
Maybe they should go.

All right, this'll be
as easy as 123, abc,

aleph bet gimel dalet hay.
How are ya now?

Good 'n' you? Good.
Ready to fuckin' learn.

- Huh?
- Judaism 101.

Gonna give you boys
The Rundown,

the short,
William Scott version

'cause I don't have all day
here. Rock with me?

- All night.
- First off, Judaism,

a very minor religion,
only about

.2 percent of the world's
population are Jews,

and just about over
40 percent of them live in Israel.

Shout-out
to the homeland.

Although, small
for a religion,

Judaism is
influential as fuck.

- Like Kanye?
- Yeah like Kanye.

Mad small, mad influential.
So, right off the bat,

let's start with
something you know.

The Jewish bible
is called the Torah.

The Torah is what you
know as the Old Testament.

- Same shit.
- Same shit?

- Same shit.
- Kinda lazy, no?

No, mad hype.
So, check it out.

There's this dude Abraham,
and after going around,

asks a bunch of other
dudes with other names

if they wanna be
his chosen people,

God lands on Abraham
and is like, "Yo,

"wanna be my chosen people or
chosen guy?" Whatever.

- Sick.
- They strike up a deal and become boys.

And in exchange
for following God,

Abraham will receive hype
land that he will rule,

as will his future
generations to follow.

- Is...
- ...rael.

- That's the guy.
- Tight.

Fast forward a little bit,
Abraham had two sons,

one with his wife
named Isaac,

and then, also at some point,
he smashes his slave

has this other kid named
Ishmael, who pretty much

goes on to birth what we know
today as Islam.

Wait, wait, wait. Hold up.
So, Abraham had a wife?

- Mm-hmm.
- But he also...

had sex with
his hot slave?

Never said
she was hot.

And then,
his hot slave had a kid

who fucked off
and started his own shit?

Yes.

- That's pretty baller.
- Very baller shit.

It's like Sopranos
level baller.

(As Tony:)
Christopher...

Gets even crazier.
God's like, "Yo, Abraham,

"I know you said you'd follow
me and be my boy 'n' shit,

"but to further prove
to me your loyalty,

"I need you to kill
your son Isaac for me."

- Uh-uh.
- No way.

For realsies, and just
as he's about to do it,

God's like, "No, my guy.
Just fucking with you.

"Just wanted to see
if you were gonna go through with it."

Loyal as fuck.

Cool.
Cool, cool, cool.

Basically, Jews
will always prevail.

- How?
- Well, we believe

it's 'cause we
follow the simple rules:

we worship only one God,
we study the Torah

to further understand
His brilliance,

we procreate and make
new little baby Jews,

and we do
hella mitzvahs.

Mad mitzvahs.

Basically comes down
to being good people,

doing good things things
out of the kindness

of your hearts and not merely
for your own benefit.

Hence, me risking my raysh by
welcoming you guys to JSwipe.

Aww.
Thanks, buddy.

And furthermore,
educating you on Judaism,

so that you can flex knowledge
on/impress Jewish broads.

Thanks, bro.

Got you. So...
you're honorary Jews now.

When's your
first mitzvah?

(Hockey buzzer sounding)

Holy fuck.

Fuck a duck.

This table's seeing
no shortage of fucks.

Should we split?

I'd rock a nap...

- 'Kay.
- ...ish.

- Sex.
- Sex.

BOTH: (Whispering)
Sex, sex, sex...

Well...
(Sighing)

...I'd hate
to dine and dash,

but that's precisely
what we'll do.

Wanna try and beat Super Mario
1, 2 and 3 on original NES?

(Scoffs) Those games
don't hold up.

Our palates have been
spoiled by the speed of modern gaming.

Original Nintendo
is just far too slow.

What if we add rips?

Well... only one way
to find out.

- Sex.
- Sex?

- Sex.
- Sex?

Sex.

ROALD:
Ya-hoo!

Well, I think
there are three things

that guarantee a good
hangover: hunger, horny...

- As hell.
- ...and hibernate.

Boy howdy.

You guys wanna
watch Twisters?

Ooh, Helen Hunt.

Rest in power,
Philip Seymour Hoffmans.

- And Bill Paxton.
- Is it on?

I figure like a
baker's dozen channels

have it on loop
24 hours a day.

- KATY: They do.
- Prove it.

I like this
brunch program.

Finish mid-afternoon and
close the business down

siesta style
for a few hours.

Good luck with
the hornies. Wait up!

Jim Dick-Skins.

You, uh, hungover?

BOTH: (Whispering)
Sex, sex, sex...

Sex.

REILLY:
Guys...

Boys, minutes into
honorary Jewhood,

you're already
rippin' hype mitvahs.

Oh, good thinking,

'cause you hate wheels on
bags for adults,

but these little bagel bites,
they kinda need them

'til they grow big enough
to carry their own gear.

You're never too young to
carry your bag into the rink.

If you can't carry
your bag into the rink,

you really shouldn't
be playing hockey.

Selfless acts, boys.

What do you say
we go smash some JSwipe?

You know, we really appreciate
you risking your raysh for us.

JONESY: We'll just give
you a head start.

REILLY: Yeah.

Plenty to keep
us busy right here.

Like what?

JONESY:
Go to Mommy.

Sick.

Tight.

Hype.

♪ Wake up now,
you're gonna be late ♪

♪ No excuses,
don't delay ♪

♪ See your face
and you can't relate ♪

♪ On and on and on
and on and ♪

♪ Step in line and
take your place ♪

♪ Believe it or not,
you like it this way ♪

♪ Peace and love,
it's good to be kind ♪

♪ On and on and on
and on and on... ♪

(Singing echoing
indistinctly)

♪

♪ See the person,
see the hate ♪

♪ See it coming
a mile away ♪

♪ Any time you
can't wait ♪

♪ On and on and on
and on ♪

♪ Wake up now,
you're gonna be late ♪

♪ No excuses,
don't delay ♪

♪ See your face
and you can't relate ♪

♪ On and on and on
and on and ♪

♪ Step in line and
take your place ♪

♪ Believe it or not,
you like it this way ♪

♪ Peace and love,
it's good to be kind ♪

♪ On and on and on
and on... ♪

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