Original subtitles

Ah!

Ow, God! Hi! Hey Tyson.

You can't go to the newsstand anymore.

I... I just wanted to go there

and grab a couple snacks.

You know, get away from Sue.

We had kind of a rough night.

Roofie's been arrested!

Okay you can let go now, Tyson.

I can't!

My knuckles are caught

in your braided bitch belt!

Just let go! It's like a...

it's like a raccoon trap.

You gotta ease your fingers,

ease the fingers open.

There you go! See?

Ah!

(screaming)

You were such a careful

and considerate drug dealer.

Who took you down?

Look, I never met the cop,

but that big dick swings to the name of Sid.

Sid.

Like Sid from the nursing home?

I... I'm an undercover cop.

I got intel for the precinct!

That old fucker was like one foot in the grave.

His breath smelled like dead flowers!

Look, we got a bigger problem, all right?

All my product was confiscated.

All of it.

Even the special strain I was saving

called Sue's finger.

You named a special strain of weed

after Sue's finger?

You thoughtful devil, you.

Listen, your dead girlfriend's finger

is in a weed box in the evidence room!

Okay well, lucky for us,

I am a master improvoseur.

- You're not. - And a diplomat of disguise!

Those two words don't even go together.

- Read my lips. - Through the phone?

Yes. We are fine.

I'ma fucking die in here.

(loudly clears throat)

Officer Jeff... Jeffs... Jefferson...

Jeff Jefferson reporting for duty.

Preferably in the, uh, evidence room?

(laughing)

Who's the hilarious asshole

who ordered a stripper for Teddy's birthday?

Oh... no. I'm... I'm not that.

Oh shit!

You're that fat dude from TV!

Nope! I'm not that either.

I'm not... I, I'm just an officer

of the law here.

I button my pants up one side at a time

just like everybody else.

Oh, you big time me?

You know what? Fuck you.

With all... with all your teeth,

and all your fingers,

and all your ears.

Why do you not have those things?

I'm gonna fuck the fame

off your face.

- Ahh!! - Hey!

No! No, no!

(yelling continues)

Improvoseur.

Please be open, please be open,

please be open.

(lock rattles)

Ah, fuck a duck!

- Freeze! - Oh, shit, I'm sorry.

I would never actually fuck a duck. I mean,

I can't even find the hole where the eggs

come out... I mean, I can find it, but I don't think

you could even get a finger in there.

Hands on your head, asshole!

Okay look, look.

You don't have to do this.

This is just a big misunderstanding, okay?

Haven't you ever made a mistake?

As a matter of fact, I have.

Oh!

Oh, you're a ghost.

Hey look, I can get in a lot of trouble here.

This is not the time or the place

for a big, elaborate backstory.

The year was 1989.

I was hot on the trail

of the most dangerous psychopath

this city's ever seen.

A serial killer?

- A serial flasher. - Oh.

Needless to say, the guy left

a bad taste in my mouth.

And you guys never caught him?

We thought we did.

My partner Frank and I were working

around the clock.

After months of dead ends,

we landed on the doorstep of a man

named Johnny Penis.

('80s synthesizer music)

Wait, wait. Months?

I would think with a name like Penis

he would have been a suspect immediately.

Don't interrupt a flashback, man!

It's fucking rude!

Yeah, I'm sorry, I hate that.

I kicked in the door on a hunch.

- Freeze, asshole! - Oh, woah!

Take it easy, fellas.

Don't move a muscle!

I just gotta tighten my robe.

I said fucking freeze!

You... watch the language, fella!

We got kids here!

Keep those hands where we can see 'em.

You got me just right out of the shower, let...

You think we're fucking around?

You don't wanna see my penis, do you?

Last warning motherfucker!

(gunfire)

(gunfire)

He didn't leave us much of a choice.

No...

Frank and I got medals and promotions.

We were heroes.

And the city felt safe again.

That is, until it started back up.

The flashing?

Not just the flashing.

The photos.

The sick bastard used to take Polaroids

of his victims' reactions.

- No! - Yeah.

Frank wrote it off as a copycock.

But something about it rubbed me off wrong.

Did we catch the right guy?

Unfortunately, I died

before I could ever be sure.

Okay, I get it, I get it.

Your obsession with this case is what

ultimately led to your demise, right?

No.

Motorcycle accident.

(engine squeals to life)

(explosion)

Precinct had the worst fucking mechanic back then.

Well, maybe I can help you solve this case?

Forget it, asshole, I only work alone.

What? What about Frank?

Fine. I just said that because I don't want...

- ... to work with you. - Hey, like it or not,

you need a living person to solve this case,

and I'm the only one who can see you.

All right? And I need a ghost to help me

get my girlfriend's finger out of

this evidence room, and you're the only one

who can get me in there.

So it looks like we might be

stuck together, partner.

All right.

- I got two rules, asshole. - Hold, wait a minute.

That's not, like, my new nickname, is it?

First, don't call me partner.

Okay, got it.

And second, don't you dare embarrass me.

I would never.

Hey! What are you doing down here?

I don't know. I'm lost and scared.

Well, we're ready for you now.

Okay.

Give me a minute, partner.

Detective Frank Powell?

It's Chief Powell. Who the hell are you?

Uh, I am Officer Pacalioglu at your service.

Uh!

Jesus Christ, you're the stripper cop.

How the fuck did you get in here?

No, I'm not a stripper cop.

I'm a medium, and I'm here

with the ghost of your ex-partner Max.

Max?

Yeah, he's right here.

You got one minute.

Okay, that's all we need.

We want to bust an old case wide open.

What case?

The Polaroid flasher.

The Polaroid flasher.

Jesus Christ, Max!

You just can't let that thing go, can you?

We caught the guy!

We didn't find one Polaroid

on Johnny Penis.

And remind him there's been new victims.

Max wants me to remind you

there's been new victims.

No, there's been copycocks.

- Yeah, but they... - All right?

None of these new victims could pick

a penis out of the lineup.

- None of them! - Wait.

You guys actually did that?

I'm gonna have to ask you

to leave, stripper cop.

Hey, I'm just tryin' to help with Max, man.

- You know, we're jamming! - Max is dead.

Okay? And this case is closed.

Now you can take your booty cheeks

and clap them together somewhere else.

I'm sorry. I feel like I

really let you down up there, Max.

26th West 30th Street.

What's that? A good s'mizza place?

It's the address of the last victim.

I saw it in the file before Frank humiliated you

with that booty clap comment.

I say we go pay her a visit.

Yeah!

Hey! That's not how we roll.

Holy shit. Sweet ride!

Hop in, asshole!

Yeah, can do!

All right, let's do this!

(tires squealing)

I wish I could help you identify him,

but he held the Polaroid camera

directly in front of his face.

He's a smart fucker, I'll give him that.

Covers his face, flashes the damn camera

right in his victim's eyes.

Ma'am, I'm not interested in the face.

Let's get into the meat of this, shall we?

White?

Black?

Asian?

I'd say white?

You'd say white?

It had a healthy glow to it.

I see, okay.

- Circumsized? - No.

It was a hooded hell hound.

Mhm. Any curve to it?

A little to the left.

Veins?

A few, on the side.

Pube pattern?

Freshly groomed.

Like it had seen a trimmer

that very morning.

How's this?

Oh, God!

Oh, God. That's it.

I... I... couldn't get out of its way;

it flopped right at me!

I need to know about the balls.

She's had enough, man.

Ask her about the balls!

Ma'am, the ball placement?

No, please, I can't take anymore.

- I'm sorry, I'm sorry. - I need to know!

Okay. Stay with me!

Focus up and describe

those dangly bastards to me.

Oh, they were swinging.

Ugh, I can still hear them slapping

against his mid-thigh.

- Mhm. - All right?

- Are you happy now? - No!

I didn't want you to cry!

Aw, come... was that really necessary?

- Mid-thigh. - What?

That testicular drooping is as consistent

with a man in his mid-fifties.

The exact age the Polaroid flasher

would be if he were alive today.

Holy shit.

Are we hot on the trail of something?

Unfortunately, we're fresh out of leads.

Aw, fuck it.

We've got nothing but droopy balls

and a camera owned by every family in the city.

What, uh, the Polaroid?

No, no, no, nobody uses the Polaroid anymore.

But he's still buying film. How?

On the internet, probably?

The what?

Right, there was no internet back then!

And a man in his fifties might

wanna do things the old fashioned way.

There's only one place in town I know

that still sells Polaroid film.

Right next to my favorite s'mizza parlor.

Take me there, asshole.

I think I'm starting to like that nickname.

(loudly clears throat)

Vintage Polaroid 600 film.

You carry it?

It's not cheap.

Sounds like our suspect has some cash

to throw around these days.

My partner and I are going to need the name

and address of everybody who's bought

that film in the past...

- Ten years. - Ten years.

You ever hear of

camera-customer confidentiality?

Oh, shit, is that a thing?

Is he making that up?

Slam this motherfucker's head against the counter!

Yeah, what do I do? Just grab him by the ears?

- By the fucking neck? - The moment's gone, now.

But I'm like in the middle of doin' it!

I'm calling the cops.

No you're not, 'cause they're already here,

butterface!

All right. Take it easy.

I'll just run in the back

and grab the books, right now.

You get the books, and then I'll relax.

So, uh, when do I get my gun, partner?

Never. And you really need

to stop referring to us as partners.

This is a classic partner quarrel.

We're strangers.

We do this one job and we're done.

Don't think I'm gonna sit here

and open up to you

about my lesbian ex-wife.

That never crossed my mind.

Bitch.

No, I thought we'd start small, you know?

Like, what's your favorite kind of candy?

Got you pegged as a Kit Kat guy.

- Give me a break. - Turkish delight?

- You start... - Watermelon nerds?

You start talking about personal stuff

and you're not focusing, all right?

- You miss shit. - What kinda shit?

Oh, clerk!

God!

Ah, damn it!

Oh, well.

I'm sure we'll find another lead.

Chase him!

It seems pretty fruitless now,

I mean, he's like halfway down the...

Oh, uh-uh.

Sorry for your loss!

You better start talking,

or I start stompin'!

Go ahead.

This is a vintage store.

This shit's all broken anyway.

Do you have any camera bags?

Oh, on the back wall.

To the left.

It's back there.

Time to turn up the heat.

Fuck yeah.

Woah, okay, okay. I'll talk.

Really? Just like that?

Yes.

I can't afford to be closed

in the middle of the day.

Are you fucking crazy?

Yeah, let me think about that.

Yes I'm fucking crazy!

I'm fucking nuts.

- We want some names. - We want some names!

Well, there's this one guy...

There's this one guy!

- There's this one guy... - One guy!

One guy who keeps buying

a lot of Polaroid 600 stock.

Oh yeah?

Let me ask you something.

Dick look anything like this?

Let me jog your memory.

What's his dick look like, fuckface?

I... I... I don't know.

I just know his name is, uh, Barry.

That's a good start.

Weinberger...

Oh, you're still going, that's great.

... stein.

Sorry, did you just say Barry Weinbergerstein?

- Yeah. - You know him?

Holy shit, yeah, I know him.

He's the fucking president of...

The president is a Jew?

What? No. Worse.

A woman?

No, I didn't mean worse like that.

I meant...

This is bigger than any political scandal

you could ever think of.

This could shake up the entire

reality entertainment industry.

Barry Weinbergerstein

is the President of Alt TV.

The president of all TV?

(stuttering)

Would that raise the stakes for you?

Fuck yeah.

Then sure, yeah, that's him.

This goes all the way to the top...

of reality TV.

Who the fuck keeps letting stripper cop in?

Listen to me, Frank. The Polaroid flasher

is still out there.

Max and I discovered his true identity.

Look, let me stop you right there, okay?

I need to make something really clear to you.

If I catch you playing cop in my city again,

I'm gonna have you arrested, locked up...

Let me guess, you're gonna throw away the key.

No, no!

I'm gonna shove it up your asshole!

That's what I'm gonna do!

Be a big mistake, pal.

I could eventually poop that key out

and free myself.

Look, this is over, stripper cop.

Okay? Case closed.

Now I want you to clap your ass on out of here.

- Get to clappin'! - All right, I'll go!

But you should know one thing before I do...

Max is disappointed in you.

I never said that.

You didn't have to.

Max, I think this is where you and I

part ways.

- What? - Yeah.

But we're so close.

Did you hear Frank up there?

He's gonna throw me in jail.

If that happens, I won't be able

to get what I need out of jail.

And I'll have a key jammed up my ass.

That was not part of the plan, Max.

I'm sorry.

It's fine.

I was a fucking fool for thinking

you'd ever see this through.

- Well... - You're not a real cop.

That's true. I'm really not.

You're a stripper cop.

Well, actually, I'm not that either, uhh...

Is this what you were looking for?

Oh my God! Sue's finger!

- Oh! - Yeah.

Go finger fuck yourself.

Sue?

Is this seat taken?

Get out of my car, you walking abortion.

All right, I deserve that.

It's harsh, but I deserve it.

Listen, I just want you to know,

if you let me sit here, I won't embarrass you,

I will not call you partner,

and I won't even ask you any personal questions...

nothing about what your favorite candy is.

Nothing. I swear.

Okay?

I just wanna see this thing through.

Okay, asshole.

All right.

All right, let's get down to biz.

Oh, there is some messed up shit

going on up there, Barry Weinbergerstein.

Calling all units! We just got a report.

There's a flashing on Flushing Avenue.

Could be any flasher.

Suspect has a penis that curves

slightly to the left.

That's pretty common.

Mine did.

Suspect is moving south with a Polaroid camera.

Polaroid camera.

Shit! That's our guy!

Let's bust him!

(loud sniffing)

Damn it!

Where'd I put that extra film?

Oh yeah, that's right.

Cover me, partner!

Oh!

(groaning in pain)

- You okay? - Yeah.

Yeah, yeah, I think so.

Where are we?

We found the flasher's den.

Holy shit.

This one's dated yesterday.

This must be his pube trimmer.

It's still warm.

He was just here.

No.

I'm still here.

(camera shutter snaps)

Woah!

How could you do this to me, Frank?

Wait a second. You're the Polaroid flasher?

Dude, seriously, you have the most

racially ambiguous penis I have ever sketched.

On the count of three,

I'm gonna slide you the pube trimmer.

Don't hesitate, just jam it in his neck!

I wouldn't do that if I were you.

Why can he hear me?

- I don't know. - Shut up!

Shut up. You know what?

- I'll shut you up. - Oh, boy.

(grunts)

Oh, not like that.

What did... who the hell is that?

That's Johnny Penis!

That's Johnny Penis?

Oh, he must not have gone into his light.

Damn right, I didn't go into the light.

You assholes shot me before I got

the perfect reaction photo!

And I wasn't going without it.

Fortunately, I learned about possession.

And after inhabiting a few dirty hobos,

I found the perfect vessel

to continue my crimes.

A decorated cop.

Who got blackout drunk every night.

I'm taking you down

once and for all, Johnny Penis.

Looks like we finally got our man, huh, partner?

Yeah, I'm still not really comfortable with that.

That's okay, yeah, it was a little early.

Hey, what... what's going on?

Uh, it's a little hard to explain.

You had Penis inside you.

I had Penis inside me?

That's it, stripper cop!

- You're under arrest. - Me? No! What?

Oh, shit.

I'm walkin' outta here.

Don't try and stop me.

Say cheese, asshole!

Yeah!

It's over, Johnny Penis.

You've been clipped.

- Nice! - Oh my God.

That face!

Surprised.

Disgusted.

And yet intrigued.

I wouldn't say intrigued...

It's the perfect reaction photo.

It's the... it's the perfect

reaction photo!

(both breathing heavily)

- Hey, Pac. - Yeah?

Good & Plenty, that's my favorite candy.

Really?

Those are fucking gross.

Case closed.

- What happened? - There you go.

You saved me from myself.

I did.

Good job, stripper cop.

Thank you.

Good job!

I gotta stop drinking so much.

Ha!

I'll drink to that.

You buyin'?

- synced and corrected by chamallow - - www.addic7ed.com -

Repair and Synchronization by Easy Subtitles Synchronizer 1.0.0.0