Original subtitles

TV NEWS: Let's find out, and head over to Carl with the weather. Carl?

MARY: Oh, so, Suzanne,

what do I owe you for my Avon order, hm?

$28, my love.

$28!

For makeup? What's the point?

I already know what ya look like without it!

Uh, I think he means you're naturally pretty, Mom.

You don't need makeup.

POP: Well, certainly not $28 worth.

I mean, you're not joining the circus.

Maybe he's right, girl. Money is tight.

I'll just take the lipstick.

ADULT MARK: Fox's mother sold Avon products

like a New York City drug pusher.

Shut up, Mike.

You should sell your own Avon, Mary.

Make your own bit of money.

You'd make a great salesman, Mom.

MIKE SR.: Will ye crowd be quiet? I'm trying to watch the news!

You know what, Suzanne?

I will take that makeup.

And the job!

[LAUGHS] All right, girl!

But don't go taking any of my customers, 'cause if you do,

you're gonna need to cover up your bruises with...

Fresh look foundation.

That's a sample.

It's on page 12.

Oh, I won't have any trouble getting my own.

You just try and keep up.

Oh! [LAUGHS]

Come on, girl, I gotta get you your own catalogues!

TV NEWS: For more, let's go to Glenn...

SUZANNE: Excuse me, Ducky, thank you.

MIKE SR.: Good God, it's a mob scene!

Volume!

REPORTER: Beer strike!

Canadian brewery workers walked off the job today

to protest the switch to aluminium cans.

ADULT MARK: ... Leaving the entire province dry.

STRIKER: Glass is class!

Ban the can!

[ALL YELLING]

ADULT MARK: As the last few cases

of Canadian beer disappeared,

the boozers were left with only one option:

American beer.

Look at them, fighting over the last few cases

like it's the only lifejacket left on the Titanic.

I've gotta get down there.

You don't drink beer, Dad.

Not to buy it, to cover it!

This is the biggest beer-related news story since

that woman downtown found that baby rat in her stubby.

- MAN ON TV: I saw it first! - MAN 2 ON TV: Yes, now,

and it'll be the last thing ya sees!

What is so bad about American beer?

Oh, it sucks.

There's no booze in it, you can hardly get a buzz.

Gotta have like three or four before you can even...

I mean, so I'm told.

I wouldn't know, of course.

Oh, that Yankee swill,

it tastes the same going in as it does coming out.

You know the expression "goin' on the piss"?

Well, American beer...

That's the piss.

Hello, Donny, it's me.

Uh, listen, um...

Are you still working on that beer truck?

I may have a little proposition for you.

ADULT MARK: Strike be damned.

Pop wasn't gonna let go of the "beer" necessities.

?

FOX: Thank you.

What the hell?

Share the wealth, nerd.

I'm starved to death.

Mom's at an Avon convention and Dad got on a bender last night.

No lunch.

Well, I got corned beef and a tin of Vienna sausages...

?

Whoa...

Fancy.

Oh, how kind of you.

Hey, lunch!

Let's go.

Where are they going?

MIDDLE FOX: We're going to get fried chicken.

Off school grounds?

ADULT MARK: The Fox brothers were old enough to teach,

so they could leave the school at lunch.

But the rest of us were doomed to brown-bag it.

How I longed for a stomach full of the regret

that grease brought.

SILVER FOX: Oh, look at the sooky babies

wit' their lunch-tins!

Mommy coming to put ya on the teat, is she?

We could go if we wanted to.

What's that, little baby?

All I hears is "suck, suck, suck."

[SUCKY NOISES]

We didn't ask permission.

SILVER FOX: [LAUGHS]

SILVER FOX: Aw, that's cute.

Come on, Ritchie, m'boy. We're dining out today.

But I don't have any money!

I've still got some cash from mowing lawns.

My treat.

You hear that?

His treat.

SILVER FOX: We'll walk you there.

FOX: Just leave him alone.

You can't mooch off him just 'cause he's small.

ADULT MARK: Small?

What are you, his mommy?

- ADULT MARK: Mommy? - He'll get in trouble.

He's not big enough to eat off school grounds.

ADULT MARK: Not big enough?

[LAUGHS]

ADULT MARK: The woman I loved thought I was a baby.

I had to prove my manhood.

It's fine.

I said it was my treat, and I meant it.

ADULT MARK: I did not mean it.

Gentlemen? Shall we take our luncheon?

- MARK: Thank you. - SILVER FOX: After you.

- MARK: This way. - Idiot!

Better keep an eye on him.

C'mon. Let's go.

Hurry.

Come on, let's go!

[TRUCK HONKS AS IT PASSES]

Ugh, Dick Dunphy with your VOCM on-the-spot traffic.

I'm in a bumper-to-bumper jam 'cause of a three-car

smash-up on the arterial.

Avoid the area.

Drive safely, arrive alive.

VOCM cares.

Dick, I need a run to the liquor store!

Jeez, Mike, I can't even look at a beer after the night I had.

I was the emcee for strip bingo down to the strand lounge.

Let's go!

They're about to sell the last beer in Newfoundland!

I'm pretty sure I already drank it.

[SIREN SWITCHES ON]

MIKE SR.: Come on, will ya?

You sure, Gertie?

Not even a skin so soft?

It's almost mosquito season...

I understand.

All my best to Frank.

Ya stuck-up old bat!

POP: Any bites?

No.

I've been on the phone all day

and I haven't sold a bloody thing!

You know, it's a lot harder to say no to someone

if they're standing on the doorstep

with their foot in the door-jamb.

I guess that's true.

Yeah, come on.

Let's get this stuff sold.

What are you rushing me for?

POP: I'm not rushing you.

No, no, come on, come on.

You've gotta sell. Come on.

I need my catalogues.

Good, good.

All right!

Close the door!

[DOOR CLOSES]

?

[LINE RINGING]

Donny, you packed?

Good.

Oh, we have an empty nest here.

I repeat... empty nest.

- [CROWD SHOUTING] - DICK: Jesus!

Gimme your press pass so I can buy some beer.

They're almost out.

Are you mad? You can't cross a picket line.

Besides, I'm live in 4, 3...

VOCM On-the-Spot News at the liquor store,

where the scene is...

Sobering.

It's a "bottle-neck" as thirst-crazed customers

are desperate to lay their shaking hands

on the last bottle of Canadian beer.

Mike Critch, for the VOCM News service.

DICK: Come on!

[CROWD SHOUTING ANGRILY]

DICK: Out of me' way!

DICK: Mike, Mike! Hang on, Mike!

I just gotta grab a case of Blue Star!

Press!

Press... !

Press!

Arsehole.

?

ADULT MARK: There was no denying it.

I was one of the big kids.

Money can't buy happiness,

but it can buy chicken.

SILVER FOX: I'm gut-founded!

Thanks for the snack packs, Mark.

Mark?

You guys have called me "arse," "tool," "dick,"

and "arse-dicked tool,"

but you've never called me by my real name before.

FOX: Hey, dick.

RITCHIE: We gotta go back!

It's quarter to one.

RITCHIE: Is that chicken?

What are you doing here?

Those tools are just using you.

MARK: What, and you're not?

RITCHIE: I can tell you only went 'cause you were scared.

Textbook peer pressure.

Look, I'm big enough to eat here,

and I don't need you two mooching off me!

FOX: Fine. Be an arse!

I don't care.

Come on.

We're gonna miss the bell!

SILVER FOX: We're on the pip for the rest of the day.

Wanna come with, Mark?

You're cutting class?

RITCHIE: Come on!

Got somethin' you're gonna wanna see.

ADULT MARK: It was time to prove that just because

I ate chicken didn't mean I was one.

SILVER FOX: Forget it. You're still a baby.

FOX: I told you, he's too young!

People will know he's on the pip.

It's fine. Lead the way.

?

ADULT MARK: I felt like Little Red Riding Hood...

Except I was a little brown-haired boy,

my wolf was a Fox, and everyone had already eaten

the contents of my basket.

ADULT MARK: The big kids' hang-out in the woods.

A dark place between childhood and adulthood...

Where boys became men.

MARK: Wait...

This is it!

Party time!

- MARK: Is... is that... - SILVER FOX: It's Dad's.

He hates American beer. He won't miss it.

MIDDLE FOX: He's always drunk, anyway.

He'll just think he drank it.

SILVER FOX: Shut up!

So...

Baby want his bottle... ?

Can?

ADULT MARK: There was peer pressure,

and then there was beer pressure.

Dad...

What are you doing up?

I mean, home.

Shouldn't you be at school?

The boys pipped off so I thought I would, but...

I'll just go. It's fine.

No, wait.

Day off won't kill ya.

Missing school never hurt me.

Ooh...

Ah, this American stuff tastes like fish piss!

Can barely drink it.

Then don't.

What?

- FOX: Nothin'. - DAD: No.

Don't be chicken. What?

If you don't like it, then why do you drink it?

Jesus, I'm not an alkie, b'y!

It's just a few beer.

I-I know, I know. Just forget it.

It's fine.

Shag it.

Can't even get a buzz off it at all.

You eat?

No.

Help me get these empties together,

we get some money to get some chicken and chips or something.

What do you say?

Uh, okay. Yeah.

That's better, huh?

[BIRDS CHIRPING OUTSIDE]

Yeah.

?

Mr. Perez!

Where is everyone?

We...

We...

What's the matter, Ritchie?

Chicken?

[STUDENTS LAUGH]

Tina.

Well, Ritchie?

[SIGHS]

[CROWD SHOUTING ANGRILY]

DICK: Away with you! Get off of me!

Get off of me now!

[SHOUTING CONTINUES]

Good God, Dick! You almost got me killed!

I'm sorry, Mike, but I can't go drinking

the American stuff, b'y!

I'll drink anything; I mean, I'll even drink

the bits left at parties with butts in 'em,

but I wouldn't use that to flush a toilet.

Dick, this is American beer.

It's all they had left.

But I needs a straightener if I'm gonna drive.

MIKE SR.: Drive, drive!

- [SHOUTING CONTINUES] - [SIREN SWITCHES ON]

[HORN HONKING]

[SIGHS]

Wha...! What are you doing?

You should be out there pounding the pavement.

I tried Putt's Farm, Kirkland's Garage, nothing!

I got all the way down to the Flemings,

but they already bought theirs off Suzanne.

She's got the whole road limbed out!

Well, get back out there!

No!

I'm, uh, here for the, um, package.

Oh, yeah, yeah.

Thank you.

- There you go. Whoa... - What're you up to?

Beer?

POP: Good, thank you.

Look, I know a guy who works on a beer truck.

A few cases got redirected...

- MARY: Stolen! - POP: Diverted.

And I'm just out there to help him get it out into the world.

Catch and release.

You bloody bootlegger! This is illegal.

Plus, those hard-working boys down at the brewery

are trying to save their jobs, ya frigger!

Look, calm down, will you?

It's not gonna happen again.

[KNOCK AT DOOR]

Ah.

Loyola.

You change your mind about that citrus soap?

Uh, no, Mary. I'm here for Pat.

Pat, do you have that package?

I do indeed.

He can't sell you any beer.

But...

He can give it to you for free...

With the purchase of select Avon products.

Ignore her.

Four dollars.

Hey, either we do this together

or I drop you outside that beer factory

with a sign around your neck saying "bootlegger."

?

Pay the woman.

MARY: Here.

Hm!

You gonna drink it or what?

No, thank you.

I'm more of a Canadian beer guy.

Ha! Sook!

Sook!

ADULT MARK: I knew the dangers of drinking...

MARK: Oh, are you okay?

MIKE JR.: Oh... I'm dying. Bucket!

[VOMITING]

ADULT MARK: ... From watching my brother.

SILVER FOX: Just like I told my sister...

You're a baby!

ADULT MARK: He had a point.

There was no way Fox could say I was a baby

if I was a drinking man.

I mean, how bad could it be?

[EXHALES]

Gentlemen, to your health!

[LAUGHTER]

MARK: Yuck, that stuff sucks!

I mean, that American stuff sucks.

No booze in it!

SILVER FOX: Nuh-uh.

You don't leave here without drinking.

I don't want you to narc us out.

MARK: Ha-ha, very funny.

BROTHERS: Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!

- Chug... - [BRANCH CRACKS]

What was that?

SISTER ROSE: Come out, come out, wherever you are!

I can hear you!

- [IN A WHISPER] It's Sister Rose! - SISTER ROSE: I can't see you, but God can!

He sees you when you're sleeping!

He knows when you're awake!

I followed a trail of denuded chicken bones.

Come on, my little Hansel and Gretel!

- SILVER FOX: Don't... move. - SISTER ROSE: You can't hide forever!

If I find you deserters,

I'm gonna smack the arse right off of ya!

ADULT MARK: I was terrified.

It was a good thing I wasn't sober.

SISTER ROSE: Come out and talk to me!

Never having experienced booze,

I took my anxiety for being drunk.

Fee-fi-fo-fum!

I smell the beer of someone dumb!

?

ADULT MARK: They say humans have two modes in crisis:

Fight or flight.

I had a third:

Freeze.

The Fox brothers ran smack into the nun,

just like moths to the flame.

I thought I was old enough to eat lunch off school grounds,

but not even Pop was old enough for this!

So, you wanna watch some wrestling with the old man?

Ric Flair is about to take on Angelo Mosca!

Yeah, sure.

I guess.

- Dad? - [BELL ON TV RINGS]

Yeah, kitten?

It's nice when you don't drink.

Jeez, b'y.

So you really do think I'm an alkie.

No, no.

I-I never meant it like that.

I just meant...

I want to spend more time here.

[CHEERING ON TV]

It's your house too.

Now, luh. Ric Flair.

The stylin', profilin', limousine ridin'...

BOTH: Jet flying, kiss-stealing, wheelin' and dealin'

son of a gun!

Woo!

DAD: [LAUGHS]

Here, give me a fry. Give me a fry!

FOX: It's my fries! Stop it!

No!

?

POP: All right, that's two Blue Star and a skin so soft.

That comes to...

- MARY: Fourteen dollars. - POP: Fourteen dollars.

But, if you take a bar of moonwind soap on a rope,

we'll throw in two bottles of Blackhorse and call it 20.

All right, thank you.

- MARY: There you are. - POP: All right.

[LAUGHS]

- POP: How're we doing? - MARY: Fifty-seven dollars.

- VOICE: Pat? You home? - [IN A WHISPER] What? Officer Butt!

Quick, hide the stuff.

Quick, throw that over.

MARY: Oh!

Officer Butt, what brings you here?

I heard that there might be some beer for sale here.

Oh, that's ridiculous.

All right, look, we haven't got time for this, piggie.

Either arrest me or get lost.

Your cop car out there, it's scaring off our customers!

Avon customers.

I've been selling Avon products.

No law against that.

Oh, well, that's too bad.

I was looking for a few beer to take up to my cabin.

Can't drink that American piss.

Oh! [CHUCKLES]

Well, in that case, you came to the right place.

Four Jockey Club.

And a bottle of Sweet Honesty Cologne for 30 bucks.

ADULT MARK: I was as sober as a judge,

but convinced that I was drunk.

I was terrified that the nun would call Dad

and I'd be sent to juvie like Mickey Rooney in Boystown!

What the hell are you doing?

Taking a walk.

Hm.

In the hallway?

Sure.

Sure. Okay.

So, walk.

MARK: Ah... Yeah.

Hm. School called.

- MARK: Well... - MIKE JR.: Said you pipped off.

Uh, I can explain. I was just...

I told them you came home sick.

So... ?

What...

is that pee?

No, it's beer.

No, it's pee.

But it's not mine! It's somebody else's!

Oh, you smell like the floor of a legion!

How many did you have?

One.

Okay.

Act normal.

You're fine.

?

Oh, dear God.

I tallied up our take.

I sold all my product in one day.

Ha! A regular Estee Lauder.

I had a pretty interesting day myself.

Thought I wouldn't make it out of there alive.

Like covering 'Nam.

"The battery of bottle-breaking bottlers

left this broadcaster black and blue."

They're gonna be out for a hell of a long time,

take my word on it.

MARK: Father, Mother, Pop.

How is everyone?

ADULT MARK: I took my brother's advice.

The least suspicious thing to do was to act normally,

which, when you try to do it, always seems suspicious.

Is that coffee?

You drink tea.

I felt like a cuppa' joe.

What's that smell?

It's...

Uh...

Uh... The...

MIKE JR.: Oh, it's Mark.

The little weirdo got into your Avon.

Come on.

MARK: What, uh...

MIKE JR.: Up, up, up, up.

[QUIETLY] Now, go wash up, 'cause you friggin' reek.

Uh, apologies.

TV NEWS: Breaking news.

Workers and the union resolved the beer strike today

after a 22-hour bargaining session.

The hangover is over.

I knew it wouldn't last.

No more American beer.

You must be happy, Pop.

MARK: Good.

That American beer is awful.

MARY: Hm?

So I hear.

Goodnight.

?

TV NEWS: The strike resolution means that Newfoundlanders

can once again buy Canadian beer.

Sales of beer had dropped 50% in the capital city,

with some stores...

Okay, I gotta pop out for a minute.

- Dad? - DAD: I'll be right back.

ADULT MARK: Fox had been the only person in town

happy for the beer strike.

Her father was the rare man who promised more sober

than he did drunk.

Fox knew the reality of beer.

I had been seduced by the mystery of it.

But, like Fox, I, too, had become a teetotaller.

[KNOCK AT DOOR]

Are you alive?

The room's spinning.

Here.

Come on, take it.

Ugh, I don't want beer!

It's not beer, it's flat ginger ale.

Pretty much the same stuff you were drinking earlier, though.

MIKE JR.: I remember my first beer.

How old were you?

Sixteen.

Wait, I had my first beer before you did?

Ha-ha, shut up!

And hey, saying yes to things doesn't make you tough.

Saying no does.

Don't let people push you into things.

ADULT MARK: My brother was right.

Why worry about peer pressure when I barely had any peers?

I would be on my own personal beer strike for a long time.

[GAGGING]

[VOMITING]

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