All language subtitles for TusBG

I'm gonna-
I'm gonna fuckin' piss my pants.

Hey, if you wanna watch this video,
please go to our Web site-

Not-SeeParty. com.

- N-O-T-
- S-E-E.

Not Nazi with a "Z."

That'd be like a cross-dressing
Adolph Eichmann-Liza Minnelli impersonator.

If I die of laughter during this segment,
I don't want you to feel bad.

I want you all to know that I died happy,
because this video is the greatest thing ever.

You seen how many hits he has?
It's up to, like, 30-something million.

Here we- Here we go.

- Shit. Oh!
- What the fuck?

I'm gonna talk to this kid about everything.

I wanna know what he masturbates to.

I wanna know if he kept the leg!
Did he keep the leg?

I gotta say though, man,
I've watched this video enough...

I'm starting to feel bad for the kid. I'm not
laughed out yet, but I'm feelin' bad for him.

Feeling bad? The kid's got tons of hits!

'Cause he's famous, right? I mean, what more
do you want? He's got more hits than I do.

I'm kinda in a weird way jealous. I don't
need both legs. I'm not running marathons.

So look out, you crazy Canucks.

Something weird-ass this way comes.

Next week, wandering Wallace
takes a raunchy road trip...

up to the Great White North
to meet with a star.

My only hope is that
he doesn't cry too much.

Join us next week while Wallace sits down
with the, uh, one-legged wonder...

the master of self-mutilation,
of Internet humiliation, the Kill Bill Kid.

Which is about all you can do
if you're the Kill Bill Kid-

You just sit your one-legged ass
down forever.

- Oh!
- It was too easy! It was right there!

- You're goin' to hell, man.
- They're like plums, like low-hangin' plums.

- I had to grab it.
- Until next time, I'm Teddy Craft.

And this is Wallace Bryton,
reminding you to...

join the Not-See Party.

Welcome to Canada.

Yo.

Hey there.

Hey there, yourself, uh,
fellow facial hair aficionado.

Yeah, not as good as you. My God.

- New Jersey, eh?
- Yeah, years back.

Now it's, uh, "Los Angle-eez. "

A man torn betwixt devils and kings.

- Oh! Hockey.
- Yeah, you're damn right, hockey.

Mmm. Don't really follow hockey.

Okay. Hands off the counter, please.

- Really?
- Yeah, really. Thank you.

- Sorry.
- "Sore-y. "

- "Sore-y. "
- "Sore-y. "

"Sore-y. "

When you're visiting
the Great White North of Canada...

you got your Cana-dos,
and you got your Cana-don'ts.

Top shelf, right there, number one:

Don't go tellin' a Canadian
you don't follow hockey.

Of course. I should have known that.
Makes 'em sad, right?

A Canadian doesn't get sad.

Sadness was made by the USA.

- Oh, come on. What does that mean?
- Take off! It's true!

Right there on our flag.

It's right there when you look at it,
and you see past that sacred maple leaf.

- You know what you've seen?
- A white wall.

You see that in America...

you may be red, white and blue.

But in Canada, you're red,
white, but never blue, eh?

- Ever.
- Gotcha.

That's actually-
I've never thought of it that way before.

I always think of Canadians as just nice.

Well, that right there
is another Cana-don't.

We're not nice, we're optimistic.
There's a difference.

- Right.
- And we're tolerant.

- Mmm.
- And we're hung like moose.

Oh.

That's good.

Back to business then.
What are you doing in Manitoba?

Um, I'm, uh- I'm recording a podcast.

So what I do is I-I, uh-
I travel around...

and I interview weird
or interesting people...

and I describe it to my best friend...

who does not see it firsthand...

since he won't fly anywhere.

- It's call the Not-See Party.
- Whoa, whoa. The Nazi Party?

Oh, no, it's- it's spelled N-O-T-S-E-E.

Not the other... hatey one. You know?

- That was Hitler.
- You don't say "Hitler" in an airport.

All right.

What the fuck is this?

Hey.

Shit.

Oh, fuck.

Hey, fucker. Are you ready for this?

Fuckin' Kill Bill Kid
fucking killed himself, sir...

with his own fuckin' sword.

You believe that shit?
I am not fucking kidding you.

Couldn't hold out for two more days,
selfish little peg-leg piece of shit.

I'm so pissed off right now.
I gotta find a flight back tonight.

I'm thinkin' I don't want
to come all the way back with nothin'.

We need a show this week, so...

I'm in fuckin' Winnipeg in a bar...

called, uh, Bar H.

I don't know what the fuck I'm gonna do.

Try to find some other Canadian weirdo
up here I can talk to, but-

I gotta be honest, man.
There is nothin' weird about Canada.

It is painfully boring up here.

But, shit, $550 for
a fuckin' plane ticket.

Selfish little prick.

I know it's fucked up to say,
but, goddamn it, it's killin' me.

All right.

Signin' off from the Great White North.

Oh, shit. Beep.

Hey, man, where's your bathroom?

Hello. I'm an old man...

who has enjoyed a long
and storied life at sea.

I'm a proud Canadian who has traveled
a peculiar path lo these many years.

And after aeons of oceanic adventure,
I find myself a landlubber...

with Manitoba as my final port.

I know I do not wish to spend
my remaining years alone in a giant house...

not when I have such stories to share.

No, it's-it's not the room I'm interested in,
as much as you, Mr. Howe.

Yeah- Tonight would be-
That'd be amazing, sir.

Yes, thank you.
Uh, where am I going?

Bifrost? Sounds erotic.

Okay, let me just ask somebody
how far I am.

Excuse me. Hey, uh-

Uh, how far is Bifrost from here?

Bifrost? Shit, that's far.

Yeah, it's "aboot" two hours from here.

Yeah, the kids here
at the convenience store are telling me...

that it's "aboot" two hours away.

I hate American guys.

Yeah.
What's your address?

So to this end,
I'm offering a room for rent...

in my stately woodland home.

This arrangement will be free of charge...

providing you perform the simple
household chores I can no longer tend to...

from the confines
of this cursed wheelchair.

But though I may be old, I have lived.

And I will tell you all about
my many adventures... in vivid detail.

Please feel free to call me
at the number below.

Respectfully, Howard Howe.

All right.
This better be fuckin' worth it.

You have arrived at your destination.

Hello? Hello?

Hello. Up here, please.

Hello? Hello?

Good evening.

- Mr. Howe?
- Well, actually, it's Howard.

Mr. Howard. Hey-

You know, when people first
become entangled with my name...

it's much like a French bedroom farce.

Now, Mr. Howe would be appropriate,
but I prefer the intimacy of Howard.

Howard.

Now that we have that unpleasantness
out of the way...

may I welcome you to Pippy Hill, my home.

Oh, yes, it's great.
It's nice to meet you.

Pleasure. Pleasure.

Could I interest you in some tea?

You can, but first, uh...
can I use your bathroom?

Smashing.

God.

Whew!

Hoo-wa.

Oh, Jesus.

Whoo.

Well, did everything come out all right?

Ah, yeah. Great.

- Thank you.
- You're welcome. There's your tea.

All right, thank you.

Yeah, my second wife-

and I presume my last-

used to say, bless her heart...

"Rather saint than sin,
better out than in. "

She was referring to gas, of course.
Her own, mind you.

That's great.

- This- Thank you.
- You bet.

Goddamn, this is good.

So, did you find
the water closet satisfactory?

Oh, yes. Thank you so much.

Hoo! It was great.
I was holding it in for half the ride.

It's a little embarrassing, but, um...

I was kind of spooked to get out of the car
in the middle of nowhere.

You know?

I must say...

your phone call intrigued me.

Well, I'm telling you,
your handbill intrigued me.

Did I understand you correctly
on the phone when you said...

you weren't looking
for a living arrangement?

Mm-mmm. No, I live in Los Angeles.

- Oh.
- Yeah.

City of Angels.

Well, I've never seen any myself.

More the opposite really.

My Grandma Mimsy used to tell us...

"You needn't go very far
to find hell in a handbasket. "

I like that. I like Mimsy.

Oh, my grandma-
my grandma used to say...

"Hell is your children. "

- Oh.
- Chain-smoker.

"Hell is your children. "
She was the worst.

How droll. Bet she must have been
an interesting woman.

Now, she was flatulent. Let me tell you.

I've never seen anything like it.
Or smelled anything like it.

She would hang stuff on her walls too,
just like you.

My life lines these walls, Mr. Bryton.

And though I cannot boast of legs
that are functioning and...

that keep me ambulatory...

I still thank the Lord
for leaving me with a memory-

a living memory of my many adventures.

Yeah, those adventures
are what I'm here about, Mr. Howe.

You said on the phone you were much more
interested in me personally than the room.

Yes, because I saw this.

- Oh.
- Yeah.

I'm up here in this frozen shithole,
I think my trip is a bust...

and I feel like I just stumbled
into a gold mine with this thing.

And you talk about sharing stories.
That's what I do.

I'm a storyteller by trade.

Oh, I see. You're a writer?

Well- I'm a podcaster.

- What on earth is that?
- Oh-

I'm sorry. I'm not laughing at you.

You just-
You just reminded me of my mom.

"Wally, what are you doing?"

Oh, she's the worst. You're fantastic.

Um, a podcast is kind of like- It's like
a radio show that's not on the radio.

It's on- It's on the Internet.

- Does that make sense?
- Uh-huh.

Yeah.
That's also like my mom.

It makes it sound more confusing,
doesn't it?

Uh, it sounds like this.

Right, now, you listen-
Now, you listen to me.

I just came in my pants.

That's my- That's my McConaughey
prematurely ejaculating.

Gonna piss my pants.

You can actually say those things
without any repercussion?

Yeah, the audience likes it real and raunchy,
so I try to keep it real and raunchy-

and real raunchy.

You know, the freedoms
your generation enjoys-

- Mm-mmm.
- Oh, I tell you, the-

Libertines, the lot of you.

Can I just tell you something?

This is gonna sound really weird,
but I've never had tea like this.

It's blowing my mind.
I feel like I've never had tea in my life.

I'm, like, popping my cherry.

I'm not even a tea person.

I believe we're all tea people.

There's a trick to it, you see.

You soak the leaves
in brandy before steeping.

Of course. Can't lose with booze.

No, always do sober what you do drunk.

- That'll teach you to keep your mouth shut.
- Okay, now, this one I know.

- Hemingway said that.
- Yes, he did.

And he said it to me.

- You knew Ernest Hemingway?
- Well, we met on the waters of Normandy.

You were there for D-Day?

No, I was there before D-Day. I was there
when it was called Operation Neptune.

Holy- Hold on.

You were on the beach?

- No, no. I was on a boat, as was Ernie.
- Ernie?

And Ernie was deemed "precious cargo"
by the powers that be...

so he was prohibited from
joining the incursion.

They ordered Hemingway
to stay on the boat? Are you kidding?

Yes, they did, which vexed Mr. Hemingway,
to say the least.

- You know how he loved to hunt the big game?
- Yeah.

The big and the deadly? Well, there was
nothing bigger or deadlier than a Nazi.

Except perhaps a Nazi's nagging wife.

Nazi bitches, of course.

And so, prohibited from
joining the incursion...

Hemingway went to the galley
in search of alcohol.

And the only one
to oblige him, of course...

was a 16-year-old
potato peeler on KP duty.

Oh, my God!

Holy shit. No kidding.

Yes.

So I proffered for Mr. Hemingway
a bottle of Weiser.

And I'll never forget what he did next.

There was this smile
crawled across the man's face.

It was so slow,
as if it were a caterpillar.

Then he turned to me and slapped me
on the back, and he said...

"You are a kitchen witch
of only good fortune. "

"Kitchen witch"?

God-

So we drank Weiser, and...

when reports came back of how many...

boys had fallen... at Omaha...

that's when he said to me...

"Only do sober what you do drunk.

It will teach you
to keep your mouth shut. "

Oh, God! That's-

That's nuts, man!

That's incredible.

Well, actually, if you look
to the right of the fireplace...

you'll see the incredible aspect.

This is the bottle?

Holy shit.

This is the coolest thing I've ever seen.

Well, it's just an old bottle, but if you combine it
with the story, then it becomes a-

if I may say so, a powerful talisman,
a doorway to another time and place.

Perhaps a drawbridge to history.

Yeah. So fucking cool.

Hey, what's this?

Ah.

I see you have an eye for the unfamiliar
and the curiosity of a cat.

That should take you very far.

That's the baculum of a walrus.

The, uh, Alaskans call it an oosik.

Oosik.

Oh, whoa.
So it's like a- like a walrus spine?

No, it's more like a walrus cock.

Shut up.

I'm a dirty boy, aren't I?

That's a walrus dick?

No, no. That's the baculum.

That's the bone that's found in the penis
of most placental mammals...

excluding man, of course.

Ah, that's not fair.

Well, it is an aid of sexual intercourse.

It maintains a stiffness
for the animal during coital penetration.

You got something like this between your legs,
you don't need any help with coital penetration.

Jesus Christ!

You're a rapscallion of the highest order,
Mr. Bryton.

- Can I get my hands on it?
- Yes, of course.

Wow.

Oh, what? This is crazy.

You would be right to admire the walrus.

It is probably God's most noble creature.

Far more evolved than
any man I've ever known.

Present company included.

- Thank you.
- You're welcome.

Appreciate that.

So where'd you buy something like this?
A head shop?

Well, I became acquainted with a walrus
when I was lost at sea.

- Shut the front door. You were lost at sea?
- Yes.

Who are you, Rudyard fucking Kipling?

In 1959...

I was back on a boat
on the, uh, Gulf of Anadyr...

which is the southern coast of Siberia...

in Chukchi Peninsula.

Perhaps the best years of my life.

And my culinary capabilities
on small seafaring vessels...

earned me my passport to the world.

As a matter of fact, it was
my magic with a halibut...

that landed me the chef's position
on the Anastasia...

as we traversed into Soviet waters,
exploring.

- Wait, so this is, like, Cold War stuff?
- No, no, no, no.

We were in search of
the Siberian great white.

The great white shark? No way.

Yes. And the Russians
call the hungry god... "the whale eater. "

Oh.

It's purported to be 25 feet in length,
with some three tons on him.

What?

- Holy shit. Did you find him?
- No, no.

No, no. We only found death
off the Chukchi Peninsula.

In the inky heart of night,
the Anastasia collided with an iceberg.

And I watched the ship disappear in minutes
into the black Russian sea...

and heard the screams from the crew
silenced in the Siberian brine.

So what happened after the boat sank?

I was alone.

"Alone, alone, all alone
on a wide, wide sea...

and never a saint took pity
on my soul in agony. "

The Rime of the Ancient Mariner.

Well remembered, Mr. Bryton.
Well remembered.

But, you know, when the screaming stopped,
I thought I was alone...

until something very swift
and frightening moved by me.

"The many men, so beautiful.

And they all dead did lie.

And a thousand, thousand slimy things
lived on, and so did I."

God. How scared were you?

Oh, I don't mind admitting
I was terrified.

I know you've probably been scared
a few times in your life, Mr. Bryton...

but I would wager to say that
you've never known true terror.

And I became intimately familiar
with terror that night as I swam.

I kicked at the water and stroked for I
knew not where. It was so pitch black.

So I swam deeper and deeper
into the ebony void, and...

I prayed that whatever brushed by me...

was now feasting upon
the expedition crew instead.

Sweet whistling Christ.

I awoke on the shores
of a very small island...

regurgitating seawater and
discombobulated beyond belief.

And then as I stood to my feet...

I saw the sweetest sight
my orbs have ever taken in.

I saw my savior.

I saw a walrus.

A walrus? A walrus saved your life?

- Yes.
- What?

This curious fellow loomed over me...

with tusks as tall
as Scylla and Charybdis.

But it was-

it was as gentle as a milking cow...

when it took me into
its blubbery body to keep me warm...

as if I were a newborn chick,
you see.

- Unbelievable.
- Yes.

And though I couldn't know
what he was called by his marine brethren...

I named him after the only authority figure
I'd ever known...

and ever trusted in my entire life.

It was a janitor at a boys' home
that I had attended...

whose name was Mr. Tuskegee.

So I called my companion "Mr. Tusk. "

Mr. Tus- That's cu- cute.

Well, cute is for Chinese babies,
Mr. Bryton.

But my walrus companion was beautiful.

I have never known such a fulfilling
friendship with anyone...

human or otherwise.

And for six glorious months...

I was at utter peace...

and I knew the only bliss
this wretched life has ever afforded me.

Wha-

What'd you-

What'd-

There, there. It'll be all right.

It'll be all right, Mr. Tusk.

Oh, shit.

Oh, fuck.

Oh, shit.

- Why- Why are you stopping?
- I don't want you to go to Canada tomorrow.

Oh, okay, I won't go to Canada.
Just finish.

- You're so full of shit, your eyes are brown.
- I know. I'm full of shit.

I'm bad, so spank me. Right there.

- Nope. Not gonna do it.
- What? All right.

- Seriously? No. No.
- It's gonna get on you then.

- No, no, you don't even deserve a selfie.
- Why not?

We talked about this. I'm gonna take
a quick "Cana-deuce" tomorrow.

I'll be back in the morning. Can you-

Making fun of this kid
on the podcast is one thing.

But to go over there to his house-

It's- It's horrible. Okay?

- This just feels gamy.
- Gamy?

Ally, the kid reached out to me. Okay?

He turned down
Oprah fuckin' Winfrey to talk to me.

Me! Come on! This is huge for the show.

I don't wanna make fun of him.
But it's for the show. It's for the podcast.

You are a real fuckin' asshole.

And this- this does not
work for you at all.

Doing your dopey comedy sketches
is bad enough.

But to exploit him to his face?

It's vicious. The Wallace I fell in-

No, that's vicious, to do what you did.
That's vicious.

That's mean. That's exploitative.

To get a little taste and walk away.

- Are you serious?
- Mm-hmm.

The Wallace I fell in love with
would not do that.

The Wallace I fell in love with
would never say this stupid-ass shit.

The Wallace you fell in love with
was an unfunny little dick-hole...

who used to make bad Star Wars puns
and couldn't pay his bills.

I'm sorry,
but I-I kind of prefer the new Wallace.

The new Wallace made 100 grand
in ads alone last year.

That was before the T-shirt sales
and all the live shows, so-

AMC's comin' to see
the new Wallace's showcase next week.

Why do you think that is?
'Cause of agents?

'Cause he played the clubs every fuckin'
night like old, unfunny Wallace used to?

No, it's 'cause he has a juggernaut
of a podcast, hosted by new Wallace.

Old Wallace.

Old Wallace was a fuckin' loser who didn't have
a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out.

Old Wallace had me.

- He'd like to have you again.
- So take me with you.

If I bring you- you know this-

Teddy gets weird and jealous,
and then the show sucks.

He's got this thing,
like if you're around...

I'm not as funny as I usually am,
'cause you're a distraction-

Blah, blah, blah. I can't figure out
what's goin' on in that kid's head.

If it were up to me, I would bring you.

Old Wallace wouldn't give a shit.
He'd just take me.

He would just take me anyway.

Well, old Wallace...

also used to wear
a fuckin' stethoscope on stage.

Oh, speaking of- We saw
my first stand-up set on the show today.

Hoo! It was fuckin' brutal.
It was even worse than I remembered.

It was really embarrassing actually.

Teddy was dying, the little shit.

News flash:
Cringe humor attack shit is lame.

Sorry. I didn't hear what you're saying.
I just love that accent.

"It's lame. It's cringe humor. "

- Love your accent.
- I don't talk like that.

- "I don't talk like that. "
- Listen, 'Stache!

That's the worst Latino accent
I have ever heard in my life.

"That's the worst Latino accent
I ever heard. "

Can you just turn down the funny right
now, 'Stache? The podcast is not on.

- I know.
- It's just me and you.

I'm trying to be lovey-dovey here,
and you're fucking it up.

It's because I have a... raging hard-on.

I want to be lovey-dovey too.
I love lovey-dovey.

We can be lovey-dovey on the phone
when I'm in Canada.

You know what we can't do? Fuck.

So why don't we do that
right now? Come on.

See? Come on.
New Wallace is kind of funny.

Yeah, you can be kind of funny.

I just- I miss old Wallace.

I miss you.
I miss the real you. Is he in there?

You know? That geeky kid?

- Who even thanked me onstage?
- Geeky?

Yeah, geeky.

I miss the guy who told me he loved me
the first time we had sex.

The guy who gets baked and cries
watching Winnie the Pooh.

You were so sweet. Such a softy.

Nothing soft about me now.

Yeah, I know. And it sucks.

- Relax.
- Okay.

Wha-

Wha-

Well.

Look who's back.

I must say you scared
the bejesus out of me.

Oh, what kind of nurse am I?

Here you go. Here's your cup.

Wet your whistle, my dry little thistle.

- What- What ha-
- What happened?

Oh, my dear boy.
Well, you passed out right in front of me.

Man. So tired.

I mean, one moment I'm waxing lyrically
about my many ocean voyages.

Next thing I know,
you fell out of your chair and collapsed.

I didn't know what it was
until I looked down and I saw...

this rather intimidating little spider
crawling out of your pant leg.

Spider?

Yes, a brown recluse.

Rather toxic little insect.
These woods are full of them.

Something poisonous.

Mmm.

Oh, shit. A spider bit me?

Yes, well, I'm so sorry.

Where's my phone?

- Phone?
- Mm-hmm. I gotta make a call.

Well, I'm afraid the doctor
stepped on it and broke it.

I'm afraid it lies in pieces.

There was a doctor here?

Yes. Dr. Mosier.
He lives just up the road, eight miles.

- Mosier? Funny name.
- Yes. Yeah.

He was here
within a half hour of your...

incident.

I forget your name.

- My name? Howard Howe.
- Mm-hmm.

Howard, I can't feel my legs.

Well, that would be the spinal injection,
you see.

The recluse sank her fangs into you
and filled you with so much poison...

that your- your ankle was the size
of an elephant's leg.

Oh, shit.

What kind of elephant?

A very fat one.

- Shit.
- Yeah.

So, with the venom
traveling to your heart...

it forced the doctor- to save your life-

to take rather, as we say,
drastic measures.

Oh, my God!

Oh, my God.

Holy shit. There's no leg there.

Doesn't appear to be.

Just let it out, dear boy. Let it all out.

My leg is off!

Oh, my God.

Nature can be very red in tooth and claw.

- What?
- Tennyson.

The fuck are you talkin' about?

Why am I still here?
Why aren't I in the hospital?

Well, hospitals carry diseases...

so Dr. Mosier felt
it'd be best if you were to stay here.

Since the room is sanitized all day...

why, it'd be best if you recuperate here.

That doesn't make any sense.

Spider. The spider bit you.

I want to talk to this guy.
Where's the doctor? I want to talk to him.

Well, uh, the doctor's making his rounds.

Rounds? What rounds?
We're in the middle of nowhere!

Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.

No, we're not.
No, we're not, Mr. Bryton.

I've been to the middle of nowhere,
and it is a ghastly place.

I don't want to hear
your fuckin' stories.

What the fuck is this?

Stop laughing!

You're funny.

That's the belt to keep you
from falling out of your chair.

Why?

The belt is to keep you from falling over
until the spinal wears off.

The spinal wears off and you gain
full control of your faculties again-

that is, most of your faculties.

I need a phone. I gotta call my family.

Dr. Mosier removed all the phones
from the house.

He didn't want you disturbed.

- What the fuck?
- So I'll- I'll talk to him, and...

I can ask him if you can
call home after supper.

- No, I gotta call.
- So it would be best if you take a nap.

You're heavily, heavily tranquilized.

I gotta tell my family.

I gotta use a phone.
I gotta talk to a doctor.

- Mosier. Dr. Mosier.
- I want to talk to him.

Well, you can't. He's- He's on his rounds.

You give me a phone.

Don't have a phone.

The doctor removed them all.

That's... insane.

Possibly so, but it's true.

We sup at 6:00 sharp.

Wait, wait.

Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.

Wait, wait.

I am...

truly sorry for your loss.

You're not eating.

I can't move my arms.

Oh, well...

that would be the morphine.

It is capital for the leg pain...

and perhaps the only thing
that keeps you from howling in agony.

But it does tend to leave one
a bit sleepy.

I'm not sleepy.

- Howe, I'm immobilized.
- Mmm.

Well...

you know...

I was thinking...

the melancholy of losing a limb...

must be akin to mourning a close friend...

that you too often took for granted.

Hmm.

There was no spider, was there?

Yes, there was. A brown recluse.

Colloquially called the, uh, hobo spider.

Ah, that's interesting.

You saw it?

Yes.

You saw the spider?

I- I just wish that I'd
spied the little creature...

before it so viciously attacked you.

What did it look like?

The arachnid assailant?

- Yeah.
- Well-

Typical spider.

A legion of legs, you know, et cetera,
et cetera. It was very small though.

So small you might even
call it "itsy bitsy. "

The itsy bitsy spider
crawled up the waterspout

- Holy shit.
- Down came the rain

And washed the spider out

Let me out of this chair,
you fucking psycho!

Let me out! Let me out,
you old fucking nutbag!

Y-

Help! Somebody help!

Now, shall we dispense
with the chuffa, Mr. Bryton?

Perhaps it would be best...

in this, our burgeoning relationship...

to reveal our hearts with absolute candor.

You see, for some time now...

I've been constructing...

a very realistic walrus suit.

What?

And I believe with
just a few minor modifications...

it will fit you perfectly.

Jesus.

What the fuck, man?

But... whilst in the walrus suit...

you must be a walrus.

There'll be no sound of a human voice.

You must communicate
everything you do as a walrus.

Do you understand?

Please. Please.

Oh, no, no.

Be not vexed or heavy of heart,
Mr. Bryton.

We two are embarking on an expedition...

not unlike that of the doomed Anastasia.

Their mistake was they looked
for the monsters out there.

They should know that the dark, the beast,
has always lied within.

Why?

Why are you doing this?

"Why?"

Why?

To solve a riddle older than the Sphinx...

to answer the question, which has plagued us
since we crawled from this earth...

and stood erect in the sun-

is man indeed...

a walrus at heart?

Help!

I almost told him before he left.

Sometimes I forget...

that my life is...

an intricate...

delicate web of lies.

And I feel so normal...

so banal.

Feels so amazing to be boring...

and faithful...

and sinless.

I even forget what we're doing to him...

till I remember what he does to me...

with all those...

empty women.

And it crushes me.

And I hate him.

I hate him.

But I hate myself so much more...

for letting any man do this to me.

I'm happy my dad's not alive
to see this...

to see his only little girl...

put her life on hold...

for some cheating fucking asshole.

And I just want to fucking die.

But every time...

he destroys me, you-

you bring me back.

You make me feel beautiful again...

and cherished.

You gave me my humanity.

Even though we're stripping it down
every time we're doing this...

I... honestly-

I don't know how to live without you.

So look out, you crazy Canucks.
Something weird-ass this way comes.

Next week, wandering Wallace takes a raunchy
road trip up to the Great White North...

to meet with a star.

I will be staying at home, per usual.

Doing what, Teddy? Fill 'em in.
Let's have a real laugh after that tape.

I- I will be taking your significant other
to the Getty, because...

in her words, you don't get art.

I get art too. Why do you keep saying that?
I get it when it's got my face on it.

Look at all this. This is art.

- Do you think this is art?
- It's like a museum.

She's not wrong. All over the walls
of this, uh- of this studio...

we've sort of created
a man cave-slash-masturbation chamber...

uh, to while away the hours in.

I've never jerked off in here, which is
surprising 'cause I jerk off all the time.

- I don't believe you.
- Okay, you're right to not believe me.

Teddy, you are my fuckin' hero.
You're taking my girlfriend to the Getty.

Ally and Teddy go to the Getty.
It's adorable. It's like a children's book.

Until next time, I'm Teddy Craft.

And this is Wallace Bryton,
reminding you to...

join the Not-See Party.

Clear!

- Nice!
- That was amazing!

I didn't know where you were goin'
with that video, but I'm glad you did it.

It was embarrassing, but shit,
that was fuckin' funny.

All fuckin' hail the Not-See Party.

Yeah, everyone except Ally.

- Dude, she just... wants to go with you.
- I know, I know.

Why are you always defending her?
It's so weird. And I know she wants to come.

But you know her whole thing is like, "Wally,
why do you have to do such mean comedy?"

That doesn't even sound like her.

I can't have her around if I'm gonna get real
with this kid, and I gotta get real with him.

I can't be me if she's there. I also can't
get road head if she's there either.

You're a fuckin' numskull
to cheat on someone that hot.

It has nothin' to do with how hot she is.
I know she's hot.

But there is some top-shelf ass
out there who listen to us.

I'm not kidding.
Plus, you haven't seen these other girls.

I mean, don't-
don't shortchange 'em, okay?

These fan girls, they may be pasty
and a little chunky, but they're really sexual.

You bring shame to the Not-See Party.

I know Ally's hot.
It doesn't take away from how hot she is.

I'm not married to her. I know I sound shitty
right now. I can see you judging me.

- You goin' to Ally's now?
- Fuck, yeah, I'm goin' over there now.

I want to break one off before I fly tomorrow
so I can get all peaceful on the plane...

and I don't cause
any disturbances at the airport.

- It's like my Xanax.
- Mmm.

I gotta get the white out,
and I go to bed like a little baby.

Come on now
More margaritas

Come on now
More margaritas

Come on now
More margaritas

Fuck.

He hasn't called me in three days.

I have this pain in my stomach.

I- I'm worried.

Ally! Ally, you gotta help me!

I swear to God, I'm not joking. Okay?

I was abducted. I'm in Manitoba.

This guy wants to turn me
into an animal or something.

He's fuckin' nuts.
You gotta please come.

Please, please, please, please, please.

I don't know where he is...

but I'm somewhere
up in his weird fuckin' house.

I'm like- I'm like
two hours from Winnipeg.

I'm so fuckin' scared.

I'm so scared I'm not gonna see you again.

I'm sorry I was such an asshole.

God, I'm so sorry.

He cut off my leg, Ally.

Okay, please. Okay, okay.

Just get here, okay? Call the cops.

Ally, Ally, I don't want to die in Canada.

I don't want to die at all.

Oh, fuck.

Okay.

Oh, Teddy, pick up.

I... honestly-

I don't know how to live without you.

So go brush your teeth
and come back to bed...

because...

I don't want to stay here
and cry all night.

Come on now
More margaritas

Teddy, it's me!

I swear to God, this isn't a fuckin' joke.
I'm being held captive.

I'm not kidding.

I'm being held captive by some crazy
motherfucker. He cut off my fuckin' leg.

Listen to me. You gotta call the cops.

I'm, like- I'm, like,
two hours north of Winnipeg.

I'm somewhere-

I'm somewhere, like, in Bumfuck, Manitoba.

This guy's name is Howard Howe. Okay?

It's Howard Howe.

You gotta call the cops. Call the cops.

I don't know exactly where I am, but...

I'm scared shitless, man. I think
he wants to turn me into, like, a- a-

What the fuck was that?

Your life as you knew it
is over, Mr. Bryton.

So if you wish to continue living...

you will be a walrus,
or you will be nothing at all.

This freaking guy.

Ally? Ally, you gotta help me.

I swear to God, I'm not joking. Okay?

I was abducted. I'm in Manitoba.

This guy wants to turn me
into an animal or something.

He's fucking nuts.

Teddy. Teddy!

Hey. Hey.

Wake up.

- Wallace. It's Wallace.
- What?

He's in trouble. He's in trouble.

What?

Oh, my God. He called you too.

Oh, my God.

Check it. I'm going-

Come on now
More margaritas

Well!

Someone's looking for Wallace.

Come on now
More margaritas

Must be nice to know
somebody cares about you that much.

Just what I felt
on the island with Mr. Tusk.

He was the only living thing
that ever had my best interest at heart.

As a child I was not cared for
so much as I was...

filed away like a document...

a document fed into a shredding machine...

and fueled by the blood of the innocent.

See, I am a Duplessis Orphan.

Now, Maurice Duplessis...

was the premier of Québec in those days.

He was the head
of the conservative party...

with strong ties to the Catholic Church.

As a matter of fact...

it was in collusion with
these charlatans of the Lord...

that Duplessis...

brought upon Québec
Le Grande Noirceur-

the Great Darkness.

As a boy of 10...

my mother and father
took me to Montreal.

I'd never seen anything so beautiful
and bright and big and wonderful in my life.

But...

when night falls...

in Montreal...

the monsters come out to play.

We were walking to dinner and were
accosted by brigands in a back alley.

My father was stabbed several times
with a mugger's knife...

and my mother's throat
was slashed as if she were cattle.

I was placed in
an abandoned boys' home in Québec...

boys whose lives had been destroyed.

Provinces were responsible financially
for all of the orphanages.

The government was responsible
for the mental institutions.

So Duplessis and the Church...

they came up with a scheme
to obtain more money...

by reclassifying the orphanages...

as mental health care facilities.

And when nobody
raised their voice in protest...

why, they just shut down the orphanages...

and sent all the children, including me...

to insane asylums.

And so, for the next five years...

I was beaten, I was tortured...

I was raped.

I've had things in my mouth
that no human being should ever taste.

They never thought of me as a person.
They just thought to use me.

And use me they did.

Priests.

Politicians.

All pederasts.

Even the nurses and...
nuns and night watchmen.

All of them witches...

all there to satisfy their most base
physical and financial desires...

through the rectum and lips of a child.

So with no one to answer to
for their horrid crimes...

these devils ran amok with my innocence.

But at age 15...

I escaped Canada.

I went to the United States,
got on a boat...

and never looked back.

Until now.

Yes...

man is a savage animal, Mr. Bryton.

Better to be a walrus.

Yes, Officer, it's B-R-Y-T-O-N.

We know he rented a car,
but we don't know exactly where from.

As soon as we land in Winnipeg, we're
gonna go to every rental desk at the airport...

and see if anyone recognizes him.

If we can find the agency,
we can find the car using its GPS system.

R- Recent pictures? Yes. There are
some recent pictures up on the Web site.

- It's Not-SeeParty. com.
- Spell it! Spell it!

Hello? Hello?

He fucking hung up.

"The sun was shining on the sea...

shining with all his might.

He did his very best
to make the billows smooth and bright.

And this was odd...

because it was the middle of the night. "

There, there, there, there, Mr. Tusk.

There, there, there. I understand.

It's so very hard to be...

the elephant of the deep blue sea.

St-Stop- Stop it.

Stop it! Walruses never cry!

Oh, I've missed you, Mr. Tusk.

How I've missed our merry times together
on Ponder Rock.

I've regretted every day...

my return to this wretched... civilization...

this anxious, silly world...

with all the banalitty...

of a breakfast cereal.

The worst of man has long been fetid...

with greed and indifference.

The best of man...

has long been lobotomized...

by realitty television.

I never should have left the wilderness.

I never should have left you.

This writhing nest of two-legged vipers-

Wallace!

each devouring the other to stay alive.

And I've betrayed you.

For what?

Man's world?

An immoral cesspool...

bloated with the wayward
and the destitute.

Howard Howe. You gotta call the cops.

Call the cops.

I don't know exactly where I am,
but I'm scared shitless, man.

I think he wants to turn me
into, like- like a-

- That's it?
- It just ends.

Are you sure he's not pulling your legs?

Gettin' up to some
good old American monkeyshines?

That doesn't sound like monkeyshines.

You do these comedy podcasts.
Could this just be for grins and giggles?

We do a podcast,
but he wouldn't take something this far.

He's not that kind of guy.

Okay, now stick with me here.
I don't mean to be indelicate.

But could there be
some sort of sexual angle?

A romantic entanglement,
an affair or something?

No, he's not that kind of guy.

Okay. Well, I did some checking.

And we don't have a Howard Howe
anywhere in Manitoba.

Shit.

As regards your friend,
I asked Border Patrol...

if they got a report
of him leaving the country yet.

They say he come into Winnipeg,
and that's it.

Don't you two worry.

I'm gonna issue a missing persons on him,
same as they do in the States.

Thank you.

But I'll tell you, that leg bit-

it sure puts the BM
in the PM's coffee, eh?

That is something.

- It's creepy, right?
- No. No, it's something.

I had a fella come in here
from Québec two days ago...

asking about any legless bodies
that might have turned up.

Used to be a cop. Said he's hunting
some kind of serial killer.

I told him Canada doesn't
have any serial killers.

Unless you count the pothead who took out
all the Cap'n Crunch last night at the Eh-2-Zed.

Anyway...

he gave me his number and he left it.

I'll take it.

Ahoy, matey!

You know, it occurs to me...

that if you are to fulfill your destiny...

if you are to be a true walrus-

Well, Mr. Tusk...

a walrus must learn to swim.

Good! Good!

That's it!
Show me how the fishies swim!

Ah! Swim!

Come on, creature of the deep blue sea!

Come on, damn you! Swim!

Yes! Come on! Swim!

I am Guy Lapointe.

That is my name. Guy Lapointe.

And I spended 20 years as the inspector...

of the Sûreté du Québec.

But for the last 10 years of my life...

I have been hunting an animal...

who is doing the masquerade as the man.

I have been hunting this 'Oward 'Owe-

Howard Howe-

this elusive, uh, devil
made of the flesh...

this serial killer...

who makes the bringing
of the blood and terror...

to the true north.

I...

am a very dedicated man...

and I have sacrificed my life,
too many marriages...

any chance at happiness...

and very likely, some may say...

uh, my, uh, uh, sanity...

all in the pursuit
of this butcher of the men.

And because of this...

the solace of the sleep...

most of the time eludes me.

But last night, after you called me...

I sleep like the breastfed baby...

and I wake up this morning,
in the morning...

and I know that, in my bones...

my quarry is close.

And he is so close
that I can almost smell his shit.

Pardon my French.

Who has the Blue Sky with Fries?

- That would be me.
- All right.

- How about the Gimli Slider, no onions?
- That would also be me.

- The Monsieur Maurice milk shake?
- That would also be me.

Okay, here's some napkins.
You're gonna need those.

- All right. Have a nice flight.
- Thank you so much.

You know, I'll tell you something.

They don't have these back home, you know.

You throw a rock in Québec City...

and it will land in a Chez Ashton.

And not a single goddamn Gimli Slider.

And that, in my opinion, is the only failure
of the mighty people of Québec.

How many people has he killed?

Twenty-three.

And if your friend has been abducted
by the same monster I am hunting...

it is probably going to be 24 pretty soon.

His MO is always the same.

Uh, a month after the disappearance...

we find the pieces of the skinned body...

and the legs are always
amputated at the knees.

Arms are always, uh,
fused t-to the body...

like a kind of crucified T. rex.

You know? Like that.
That's what it looks like.

And always the mouth and the teeth...

have been disturbed.

How?

Mm-mmm.

That's a very thick, um-

What was I saying?

How have they been disturbed?

In, um, every case...

the tongues have been ripped out.

- Jesus.
- Oh, yes.

It is one fuck of a bummer
to look at, I can tell you that.

Were any of them...

sexually-

Oh, no, no.
He doesn't touch them like that.

He butchers them, amputates limbs...

cuts out tongues...

but he don't do nothing
sexy with them, you know.

Never.

The boys on the force, uh,
nicknamed this- this killer...

the First Wife...

because the first wife
doesn't let you talk...

she doesn't let you go anywhere...

and she does not fuck you.

And she don't fuck you.

It's- It's funnier
if you've been married a few times.

Maybe we should be talking
to someone else.

Mmm.

I- I think that that's a very good idea
for you, to go talk to someone else...

Mr. Big Bear Riding a Bulldozer.

Or maybe you could just, uh, uh, "firm"
your fucking bouche for one second...

and listen to Guy Lapointe.

Mmm?

- Let me tell a story.
- Okay.

I believe that to-

Can you come closer?

Can you come closer?

Closer- You- Can you come-

Can you come closer?

I believe that two years back...

I met this son of a bitch.

Ah, well, good afternoon to you, sir.

I am Guy Lapointe, Sûreté du Québec.

Oh! Did you come here about the spider?

The- Mmm?

I called the police two days ago...

because there's a big ol' "psider"
in my potty hole.

Your potty hole?

- The shitter!
- Oh!

Oh, I see.

So you have some sort of creepy crawler
thing in your toilet box. Ha-ha!

Yeah, it's a big ol' brown recluse. Yeah.

They call it the hobo spider,
and it's mean.

I called the police,
and the lady on the phone said to me...

"Oh, we'll send somebody out
in a few days. "

Well, I-I- I have to regret-

uh, regretfully inform you
that I am not the man.

I'm not that man who was sent by the lady
who said she was sending someone.

- I'm not him.
- You're not gonna shoot the spider?

As, uh, inspector
of the Sûreté du Québec...

I'm actually not authorized
to discharge a weapon...

uh, at a bug.

- Oh.
- One of the downsides of the job.

But, uh, I come today because
I'm investigating a, um-

Well, a disappearance.

- Oh!
- Yes, sir.

The hockey player,
Gregory Gumtree from Québec City-

a lot of people have heard of him.

I have even heard of him once or twice
before all of this happened.

So, many people have heard of him.

Have you heard of him perhaps?

- No.
- No?

No.

Well, uh, last month
he was, uh, drafted by the New Nordiques.

Oh, well, piss on the new Nordiques.

Give me back my old Nordiques.

I-

Do you know something, sir?

I truly respect your, uh, passion for...

the game of the hockey.

Huh?

So anyway, this hockey player,
Gregory Gumtree...

I guess he'd seen some sort of, uh,
advertisement in the bar bathroom...

that said we can give you
a place to live...

in a living situation
that's not far from here...

but somewhere between
here and Québec City.

And the hockey player, Gregory Gumtree...

well, he- he went missing.

Oh.

And so I stopped by...

to see if maybe you might have heard-

seen something that was
a little out of the ordinary...

the other night on that, uh, Monday-
Monday night.

Oh, no, not Monday night,
because I'm down at the rink.

I'm down at the ice rink
Monday nights with the Little Mites.

Oh, do you coach-
You coach the hockey Mites-

No, no, I'm not the coach.

I'm just the coach's
helper monkey, you know.

On Monday nights I come
and I pick up the sticks...

and I- and I bring the little ones water,
you know, during the drills and all that.

Then on Monday nights
we go out for poutine.

Have you ever been to Pouteenie Weenie?

P- Poutine, um...

really does not agree with me.

Oh. I'm sorry.

My innards, it creates such a-

Poutine gives me the-
just the worst shits.

I'm sorry to be so crass about it.

By the way, you know,
I didn't even get your name.

Bartholomew Mosier.

You sure you don't have time
to come in and kill a spider?

I would- I-I swear to you
that I would help in any way that I could.

Yeah.

I would help, but I'm really
just a lowly homicide detective...

and I'm really not paid enough to, uh-
to, uh, deal with the savage animals, you know.

You know what I think, Mr. Lapointe?

Hmm?

I think that the real savage animals...

are the human beings.

Oh. Thank you-

Oh, and thank you so much.

- Thank you.
- Thank you, sir.

- Thank you.
- Have a wonderful day, sir.

Thank you very much.

In, uh, all of the "Cananada"...

there is no record...

of a man named...

Bartholomew Mosier.

There is no local rink.

There is no hockey Mites.

And I would also assume that
there is no Pouteenie Weenie.

But ever since that day...

I stopped, uh,
making the assumptions, you know.

The hockey player, Gregory Gumtree...

he was probably in that house, you know.

And I was standing on the porch...

assuming that I was talking
to some harmless simpleton...

who spoke funny.

But, um, um...

one month later we find
what is left of, uh...

the hockey player, Gregory Gumtree.

His torso was blocking up a sewer pipe
outside of Gatineau.

So...

the, uh, man-child...

Bartholomew Mosier...

or Howard Howe...

went, uh, poof.

Poof. Disappeared.

He disappeared.

Do you want to know what my theory is?

The theory that got me excused
from the Sûreté du Québec?

- Well?
- Please.

All of the victims...

have holes in the mouth.

He cuts off the legs.

He sews the arms.

But he puts something in their mouth
that we don't get to see.

Some of the cops were saying...

that the holes were from
the meat hooks, you know, with-

To hang up the body while
you strip it of the flesh and all that.

You know what I mean?

I- I-I-I beg to differ.

Well, what do you say?

Uh, well, the hockey player,
Gregory Gumtree...

th-th-the boy that I failed to save...

just like all the rest,
he had missing legs...

missing tongue, missing teeth,
a hole in the roof of the mouth.

But the medical examiner,
he found something...

inside the hole of his mouth.

It was a tiny piece of the victim's own
tibia bone, no bigger than this.

So why would a piece
of his leg bone be in his mouth?

Well, I don't know.

So I- I go to see this mama of
the hockey player, Gregory Gumtree...

and I say to her...

"You are the mama,
and you know the things about the child.

You feel things that no police,
or nobody, can feel.

So how do you think your boy was killed?"

And the mama, she- she's crying, you know.

And now it is as if
she's like my own mama, you know.

And then the mama, she say to me-

she say to me...

"This man is making a monster.

This man is making a monster. "

Mr. Tusk...

why do you blubber so?

Are you really mourning
your loss of humanity?

I don't understand.

Who in the hell would want to be human?

God Almighty.

In all of my travels...

I've only ever known a human...

to be an ocean of shit.

And my vessel lists...

and is leaking.

I'm so very tired, Mr. Tusk.

Battered by a life...

of cruel fate...

and poor decisions...

and the terrible consequences...

of both.

The water's wide

And I dare not

Cross over

Nor have I wings

Wings to fly

Build me

A boat

That can carry two

And both

Shall row

My love and I

Oh.

You must be terribly hungry by now.

That is a mackerel.

Bon appétit, Monsieur Tusk.

Yes.

Now...

go to the fish, Mr. Tusk.

Take the mackerel.

Feed.

So, this is nice,
and very roomy for an economy.

I should have rented this model.

Did you prepay for the gasoline?

- Yeah.
- Mmm.

So, where do we go first?

Now? Where- "Where" is for the wolf.

We look for the witch.

As in, which one of you
knows this missing podcaster the best?

I- I do.

- You do.
- Yeah.

On the phone message it said that he was
driving for two hours or something.

So you know him best. You know
what he likes to do when he drives.

Because nobody does nothing in a car.

Does he smoke the cigarettes?
Does he chew the tobaccos or toothpicks?

Does he drink the coffees?

Does he have some other thing?
I don't know.

Me, for example, all I do-
I cannot start the car...

without having the-
the double-double with eight sugars...

and a dash of cream.

So wh-what we really need to do
is discern this podcaster's ritual...

while he is driving.

He likes, um, big, goofy
convenience store drinks.

Oh, my God!

It's Mr. Mustache!

Colleen!

- Hurry up.
- I'm coming.

Oh, my God. What?

No way. It's Mr. Mustache.

Mr. Mustache?

No, it's not the room I'm interested in
as much as you, Mr. Howe.

Y- Tonight would be-
That'd be amazing, sir. Yes. Thank you.

All right, where am I going?

Bifrost. Sounds erotic.

Okay, let me just
ask somebody how far I am. Excuse me.

Hey, uh-

How's everything over at Degrassi, huh?
You kids still gettin' knocked up and shot at?

- What?
- Degrassi.

Never mind. How far is Bifrost from here?

- Bifrost? Shit, that's far.
- Yeah, it's "aboot" two hours from here.

God bless you, generous angels.

The kids here at the convenience store
are telling me it's "aboot" two hours away.

- I hate American guys.
- You sure that's not gonna be too late for you?

Okay, awesome! Yeah.

Uh, what's your address?

Hang on one second, sir. Hang on.

Hey, hey, hey. Can you get
off those for one second, give me a pen?

Sorry, sir.

Thank you. God bless you.

You guys have pads here in Canada
to write on? You just write in the air?

#Thanks.

Hey. Just gonna go ahead and write on you.

Okay, shoot, Mr. Howe.

Yeah. Great. Got it.

I'm gonna leave right now,
so I'll see you in about two hours.

Good. Okay. Bye now.

How much do I owe you?

That's me? That's my mustache?

Uh, yep! I'm American!
How are things over at Degrassi High?

Do you ladies know where Bifrost is?
Uh, duh!

You guys suck.

So, this pad of paper that he borrowed
to write down the address...

I would like for you
to give it to me, please, if you would.

- Give him the pad.
- You give him the pad.

Give him the pad!

One of you must give me the pad now.

I thank you very much.

Do you have a pencil?

Thank you very much.

You see that?

Wow.

It's amazing.

They did it in The Big Lebowski.

You know, that's exactly
where I learned it from. Isn't that weird?

Okay.

Now...

isn't this soothing to the soul?

I know!

If I close my eyes, I can almost imagine
being back on Ponder Rock...

where I knew peace
in this twisted, hateful world.

I miss our little paradise, Mr. Tusk.

This is just a poor facsimile
of that magical enclave...

where we first became good friends.

Remember?

Until that...

terrible day.

Man feeds on the meat and sinew
of the helpless...

until we are all...

alone.

We survive at all costs...

only to butcher again...

and again...

until we ourselves are, at last...

butchered in turn.

You were not prepared for me
last time, Mr. Tusk.

You were not ready for the fight.

This time it will be different...

because I have hardened you...

just to show you...

how cruel man can be.

And if I've truly brought out
the walrus in you...

this time...

you just might prevail.

Less than a kilometer...

from mile marker nine.

Yeah. The plates match.

- I'm going.
- No, no. He's not there.

I promise you he's not there.
But he is close.

So, we are about to find your friend...

and the dangerous man who took him.

These are guns.

I- I don't want one.

You don't want a gun?

Y- You take 'em.

Wh- What kind of American are you?

- The kind that's never used a gun before.
- Take the fucking gun!

Yes, take the fucking gun, please.

I'll- I'll- I'll take the big one.

Yes.

Some years back...

I was rescued from
the island of Ponder Rock...

a mere hour after I'd butchered
my sweet savior walrus...

in order to live.

I've marked this occasion
for 15 years now...

by allowing my flippered friend...

the fighting chance he never had.

So, you will fight me, Mr. Walrus...

or you will die!

Wallace? Wallace!

- Wallace!
- Wallace! Up there! Wallace!

So, just as I had to kill you
on Ponder Rock...

you have a terrible choice to make here.

You have to kill me...

if you want to live.

And if you live...

it will be as a walrus...

which you almost are.

So, either you go full walrus-

or this!

What the fuck?

- Wallace! Wallace!
- Wallace! Wallace!

- Wallace?
- Wallace! Wallace?

You've lasted longer than the rest.

You would kill me if you could.

You want to.

The survival instincts...

have kicked in.

But... so have mine!

Where is it coming from?

- Behind the wall.
- Wallace!

- He's behind the wall!
- Wallace!

- Hey, this gives!
- Stand back!

It is accomplished.

You are my...

Mr. Tusk.

Wallace.

No!

Wallace!

No! No!

No! No!

Wallace?

We're here.

It's Ally.

And Teddy.

The treat.

You don't have to hide from us, Wallace.

Wallace!

I can't even remember the last time you
cried while watching Winnie the Pooh.

So I don't cry. Big deal.

I'm also a lot older, remember.

Crying's kinda for babies.

I remember when my grandma died...

and... my grandpa was destroyed.

He had tears streaming down his face.

He was holding her picture,
and I was so worried.

Hmm.

I used to say-

What's that?

"Don't cry, abuelo. "

And he would say-

"It's good to cry. "

It separates us from the animals.

It shows you have a soul.

I love you, Wallace.

Don't ever forget that.

- Welcome to SModcast. I'm Kevin Smith.
- I'm Scott Mosier.

Oh, shit.
All right, so here's the third act.

He then goes and puts on his suit
made of human skins.

And so you realize he's done this before.

- Like, I'm not the first lodger and shit like that.
- Gotcha.

So he's in it, you're in yours, and you
have to have one of them walrus fights.

Like on the beach!

Where you slam each other-

And we start saying,
"Is man indeed a walrus at heart?"

You ultimately get him and-

But then what has to happen
at the end is...

once he makes that switch,
he can't go back.

Like the clinic for the criminally insane
or something like that?

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

And you see, like, his buddy-

He's got something wrapped in
a newspaper, and then he opens it-

It's a fish.

Oh, this is awesome.

And it is- Like, it's, like,
another walrus enclave.

A better version of where he was.

- He realizes they can't reverse the process.
- No, they can't.

He's fu- Even in his head,
he's gone full walrus.

Yeah!

And he throws him the fish,
and then fuckin'-

The walrus man...

scurries over to it, all gross and shit...

and starts biting at it at the ground.

They play, like, some sad piano music.

Roll credits as we pull back
on this overhead...

watching him fuckin' eating this fish
off the ground.

And there's a song that's just like-

Being tender in your heart

- Is that a real song?
- No!

We need a hashtag for this.
The conversation needs to grow.

Two hashtags-

#walrusyes, #walrusno.

- Oh, for people who don't want it to happen?
- Your vote is crucial.

You just had to have the second slider.

You just had to have...

the second slider.