Original subtitles

Let's show 'em the back-to-back stack-and-jack.

(screaming)

Why don't you just tell us what happened?

- I didn't say anything. - Okay, whatever.

We're gonna brain-drain him. (squish)

- Marshal Chris. - Just a second.

"Okay, Chris."

They're called Ap'p'Pals.

I got a couple rotten apples for ya right here.

Back-to-back stack-and-jack.

(chuckles)

(thump) Mm.

You hear something?

Oh, relax!

(sighs)

You sure your husband didn't follow us over here?

(scoffs) My husband? Please.

That idiot's probably at that stupid junkyard

with that beloved car crusher of his.

(chuckles) Now, where were we?

(scraping) What the...

Aah! (both screaming)

There you have it, gentlemen.

My wife humiliated me,

but now she suffered a somewhat greater humiliation

being crushed to death by my crusher.

And you'd be willing to crush our cheating wives, too?

That's right.

Now, who wants to do business?

Sync & corrections by dwigt www.addic7ed.com

(sighs)

Poor LaVerne.

That was one of the more botched public executions I've seen.

Yeah, but you got to admit he was right.

His biscuits were burning.

Chris, uh, Susie, meet Marshal Craig Balmer,

Brett's replacement

Hey, guys. nice to meet you.

I hear Brett was a really good man.

- He was a -- - Yeah.

(mumbling) Uh, I don't...

So, what's the case?

We got several calls from local cuckolds

reporting their cheating wives missing.

Well, I've got just the thing to help you track those harlots.

Behold -- crime-fighting pills,

The greatest advancement in crime fighting

since the Brain Drain.

- Hello. - Hi.

Why, you could say, with these pills,

every hunch is a hole in --

Whoa! [bleep] me.

(crunching)

Wow!

Bowsley, the marshal house dog, is eating all the crime pills!

(laughter)

She's gonna be the greatest crime fighting dog

this world has ever seen!

Bowsley was a good dog that,

through one man's, uh, negligence, left us too soon.

Sadly, because they have no souls,

animals don't enjoy the promise of an afterlife.

(clears throat)

Excuse me, miss.

I couldn't help but notice you shedding some tears.

You must be at the wrong grave.

This belongs to Brett Mobley,

and the only woman affected by his death

would've been his beloved aunt Jemina

He was my brother.

Oh, I'm sorry! I-I didn't see you at the funeral.

Yeah, well, I missed it on account

that I was bawling in my car like a pansy,

and I crashed into some scumbag.

And he started spewing some crap at me,

and I got really turned on.

So I spit on him, and then he shoved me,

and we had sex. (sighs)

Huh?

- I'm Tess. - I'm Christopher.

(smooches)

(burps) Oh. Oh!

(groans)

That's okay with me. (grunts)

Carol hasn't come home in days. I'm very worried.

Well, you know, maybe

if you packed a little more punch in your bunch,

she wouldn't go wandering, eh, Lewy?

I don't need that right now, Marshal.

All right. no offense.

It's just that we've been swamped with cases like this.

Craig, do me a favor. Check the TV Guide.

See if Road House was playing anytime last week.

Maybe these broads got a taste and went Swayze-crazy.

Sir, we're gonna need to see your TV Guide.

There may be one in the lounge.

Nice table.

Careful. That's an antique.

Is that a crushed hat in there?

Wait a second.

That's the same hat your wife is wearing in this photo.

Aah. I'm jammed! Uh, watch out.

(metal scraping)

Aah. Did you miss him?

And...

(splash) (laughs)

Four seconds. Sweet lag, Chris!

Thanks, kiddo.

- What's a lag? - Lag time.

After you slice a guy in half, it's how long it takes

for the top part to slide off the bottom.

Oh.

- What's your record? - 98 seconds.

Oh.

- You? - Six minutes.

No way.

Yeah.

At the Academy, they used to call me...

Daddy Long Lags.

Aah!

(gasps)

Oh, geez.

Oh, that's a tough break, kid.

And a clean break!

(scoffs)

Geez, you're not budging.

(chuckles nervously)

(telephones ringing)

That's the sharpest slice I've ever seen.

Excellent lagsmanship -- I'll say that.

How long do I got?

Well, I'd estimate around 24 hours until slide-off,

maybe 22 if it gets windy.

I suggest you make the most of it.

(telephone rings)

Marshal Wagner.

Yeah, it's Darren Fisher from the TV station.

Oh. Hi.

Look, if you're not busy tomorrow night around 8:00,

I could put your little apple show on the air.

Really?! You want the Ap'p'pals?!

No, but the magician we had booked

got different kind of booked on kiddie porn charges.

- You in? - Uh, i'd be honored.

- Thank you, Mr. Fisher! - Look, I got to run.

Going to see a doctor about my testicles.

Apparently, they're not supposed to look like rotten apples after all.

(click)

Oh --

See ya later!

Hey, Chris.

Can you cover for me tomorrow night?

'cause i have a... thing.

- Yeah. Sure, kid. - I'm doing my Ap'p'pals Show.

(groans)

What's that smell?

Oh, that's this new incense I'm burning.

It's called "Beau Bridges' Jowl Cheese."

It's coming from over here.

(hissing)

No, it's not coming from other there, Susie.

Nothing is coming from over there--

- Susan, I had to do that. - Chris !

You made me an Ap'p'pal!

I knew you believed in me!

Of course, Susie.

I-I love those disgusting things of yours.

I'm gonna febreze him and name him Chris.

Oh. Aw, thank you.

Wow.

Chris, I got a message for you.

- Who's it from? - Uh, it didn't say.

It just said to meet him at the abandoned warehouse

At 4th and Dumaine.

Come alone. He'll be wearing a black hat.

(chuckles) I-I don't know. You--

Huh.

Hi, Chris. Go on inside.

I got something I want to show you.

Now, I know we closed the Mobley case

after Whitley's confession,

but something just didn't sit right with me.

So I went back... to the lumber mill.

(sighs)

Okay, pal. Go ahead. Name your price.

Oh, that'll come later.

But first, I really want to show you how I put it all together.

Can I tell you that's really not necessary?

I-I'm not one for police work.

From the bullets that we recovered in the walls,

I could tell that you and Brett

were being fired on from two directions.

And behind you...

(whirring)

...was... the wood chipper!

Aah!

(clicking tongue)

I... am...

a... gay man.

(chuckles)

(crying)

Marshmallow. Marshmallow.

Marshmallow!

I made a mistake.

Uh, I'm not gay.

Uh, not for me.

(crying)

Do you remember that guy Lew?

- Yeah. He sliced me in half. - Yeah. Whatever.

Well, if that loser crushed his wife,

he had to have done it here.

This is the only place with a crusher big enough

for that cow.

I'm assuming she's fat. She was a wife.

Marshals! (guns cock)

It's over, Junkyard Steve

Attack!

(dogs barking viciously)

Lure them!

Here! Hang on!

(dogs whimper)

Oh, my God! I... Nope.

(dogs growling) Marshmallow!

(both grunting)

No! No! No!

(squish)

(pop) (grunts)

That's right, Chris.

I had my bones removed.

At first, it was just my ribs so I could blow myself.

Found out the wife was cheating, thought I deserved a treat.

Then I thought, "Why not go all the way?"

Now I can blow every part of me.

I can even blow my nose, and not the way you're thinking.

Get your mind in the gutter.

O-okay. All right. Easy, boy.

Attack!

(air hissing)

It was worth it!

(dog barking)

Wow. But why?

(dog barks)

Bowsley! (sighs)

Of course! Those pills you ate didn't kill you.

They made you into the smartest dog that ever lived!

And then you faked your own death and went deep undercover!

You escaped from your grave,

found that mutt costume, and assumed a new identity.

(camera shutter clicking)

Then you met an older, made dog with connections

and earned his trust. (sniffing)

He vouched for you

and brought you into his inner circle.

They treated you like a brother,

never knowing you were a rat.

And now you'll always have to run.

(siren wails)

God bless you, Bowsley.

Good boy. Good boy! (police radio chatter)

But how much is it

Wor-r-r-r-r-th?

"Oh, no!

"Dis money is-a made of starfish!"

"What?!"

"Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang!"

"Aah! You killed me!"

"Here comes a tidal wave!"

(squish)

(vomits)

You blew it, kid.

You're no better than Shorteyes the Magnificent

in my book.

(bell rings)

Oh, that son of a bitch.

I'm law enforcement.

I'm not gonna pay for that damn ticket.

Hey, Moldilocks. How's it... going?

I saw Chris kill Brett. (sighs)

Run!

(guns cocking)

(guns continue cocking)

Run, Chris!

Sync & corrections by dwigt www.addic7ed.com

Repair and Synchronization by Easy Subtitles Synchronizer 1.0.0.0