All language subtitles for Swedish Dicks - 01x09 - There’s Something about Tex_track3_[eng]

[Ingmar]
Closure.

That'’s what
I had been looking for.

Axel had been right all along,

and I had found it.

I didn'’t kill
this fucking stuntman.

-No?
-No.

The little shit died on me
before I could.

[Ingmar]
But was it an answer?

As you all know,
these last few weeks
have not been easy on me.

Easy on you?
What about us?

Yeah. You only think
about yourself, you selfish...

[speaks Korean]

Well, just want to thank you
for being there for me.

As they say
in my former home country...

-Skal!
-Skal!

Now all I want to do
is to get back to work.

I want a client in our office
with a case that we can
really sink our teeth into.

♪

[elevator bell dings]

Welcome to the Swedish Dicks!
How may we help you?

Well, something terrible
has happened,

and, um, I was hoping
you Swedish Dicks could fix it.

I'’m an international
businessman,

deals in, uh, quality wool
for the high-end market.

Quality wool.
Like in sweaters?

Yeah. And scarves, and socks.

Socks.

And, um, we'’re in deep shit,
pardon my French,

because, um,
our greatest asset is gone.

Is gone?

Yes. Our sheep
has been stolen from us.

[chuckles]
A sheep has been stolen?

Yeah. You reckon
you can help us find him?

-Absolutely.
-Uh-uh, I'’m sorry, sir,

but, uh, we don'’t do
missing animals.

No, no, he'’s not missing.
He'’s been stolen.

Sorry, company policy.

Why don'’t you
go to the police?

Ah...

can'’t.

He'’s here illegally.

Illegally?

Listen, in order to get
the highest quality wool,

you need the best sheep daddy,
the ram.

It'’s all about
the fuckin'’ ram.

And our whole business
is based on

that stud fuckin'’ sheep
all around the world.

I'’m telling you,
high-quality wool
generates big money.

But U.S. immigration,
they'’re tough on animals.

So...I'’d smuggle him in.

Can you help us?

This is where
we kept Russell Crowe.

Russell Crowe?
That'’s the name of your sheep?

Yeah, we named him that because
he'’s tough and he's stubborn,

and he fucks like a gladiator.

-You know what I mean?
-Yeah, "Go Russ, go."

-Oh, you fuckin'’ heard that?
-Yeah.

-Good on ya! [chuckles]
-[chuckles]

Yeah. Do you mind
if we keep this
until we find Russell?

No, we got lots of '’em,
lots of '’em.

Oh, so that'’s where
you had him tied up?

Yeah.

Well, looks like whoever
stole him cut the rope.

But they left on
his leather collar.

That'’s a good way
to identify.

Oh, brilliant, mate.
Brilliant.

Now listen, you blokes,
please find my little gladiator.

He'’s like a son to me.

And if you do,

you will be rewarded.

Well, don'’t worry, sir.
We'’ll find Russell.

If it'’s the last thing we do.

Oy, good on ya.

All right, you lot, let'’s let
these fuckers do their job.

Eh, don'’t fuck it up.

♪

[in Swedish]

[speaks with Latin accent]
Tacos, burritos, enchiladas,

tamales, pambazos,
tortas, menudo...

[siren wails]

[car doors open]

Ingmar Andersson?

Yeah. Who'’s asking?

My name is Special Agent Long.

This is Special Agent Poll.

We'’re with the FBI.

FBI?

We'’d like you
to come with us.

Yeah, for what?

For doing business
with Dimitri Nobakov.

No, wait, uh,
he wa--he wasn'’t--

[in Swedish]

Quiet!

♪

[sighs]

[indistinct radio transmission]

[Sarah]
The FBI arrested my dad?

Yes, for buying those
stolen cars from Dimitri!

[sighs] This is not good,
as in it'’s really fuckin' bad.

So, is there anything you can do
or should we get another lawyer?

Did you just ask me
if we should get another lawyer?

N-no, it was just a question.

No. "Can you pass the salt?"
is just a question.

Asking if we
should get another lawyer
is the accusation

that I am not up for the job
of helping my father!

I didn'’t mean anything by it.
I, uh--

I am not only
a kick-ass contract lawyer,

I am a kick-ass
courtroom litigator

who can hang
with the best of '’em, okay?

And by the time--
ooh, by the time I am done

with those losers at the FBI,

they will be putting
themselves in jail!

Get another lawyer-- please!

[beeps]

What are you looking at?

We won, hooray, go!

[Ranchero music plays]

Hello? Hi.

[speaks Spanish]

Have-have you seen this sheep?

Sí.

Really? You'’ve seen it?

-Mm-hmm.
-You have?

Wow, wh-where?

[sighs]

Yeah, yeah, it was soft.

-No.
-Wool.

-Dinero.
-Oh, money.

I only have a fifty,
so you can...

give me change? No?

So-so where?

[speaks Spanish]

-Over there?
-Uh-huh.

Oh. Tack sa mycket.

That'’s Swedish, means...

[speaks with Spanish accent]
muchas gracias.

Ha, de nada.

[in Swedish]

[splat]

Oh.

[sniffs]

[beeping]

[camera shutter clicks]

[sheep bleating]

Ha!

[beeps]

[in Swedish]

[Long] So, Ingmar, we have
extremely bad news for ya.

We'’ve had Dimitri
under surveillance
for the past six months,

so we have pictures
of you two together.

Yeah, great photos,
but that guy

doesn'’t look
anything like me.

Damn, you'’re right!

He'’s right.

It'’s a good thing we have this.

♪

Where the hell
did you get these photos?

That'’s like asking a cloud
how it makes it rain.

We'’re FBI, man.
We just do what we do.

[loud heavy metal music plays]

What you want?

Yeah, hi, uh, can I,
uh, use your bathroom?

No.

Please. It'’s...

It'’s making its way out.

-Your poo? Not my problem.
-Yeah.

Well, it'’s about to be,
because I really
have to go very--

-[passes gas]
-All right, all right,
all right, all right.

You can use the bathroom,
just don'’t stink it up, okay?

Oh, thank you.
Thank you very much.

Now run!
And don'’t poo on my floor!

Come on, Ingmar. You know
we have you dead to rights.

So why don'’t you just confess
so we can all get on
with our lives?

I'’m not saying anything
without my lawyer.

You mean your daughter?

Yeah.

Who'’s extremely hot,
by the way.

You son of a bitch!

Dad! What the hell
are you doing?

-I was--
-That was a rhetorical question.

Now sit your ass down!

-What? I--
-Now!

Okay, sitting.

Good boy.
Sorry about my client.

He can be a real pain
in the ass.

So, what is it exactly
you think you have
on my client?

Oh, not much.
Just this.

Oh, jeez.

-You'’re lookin' at the one
in the sauna, right?
-Yeah.

That one always gets
the same reaction.

[scoffs]
This proves nothing.

That doesn'’t even
look like my father.

Take a look at this.

♪

♪

Take a poo, my ass!

Get the hell outta my shop
before I call the cops!

Yeah, call '’em,
and when they show up,

I'’ll tell them how you
stole my client'’s sheep.

-Sheep?
-Yes.

Do you see a sheep in my shop?

No, but it smells like sheep.

That proves nothin'’.

No, you'’re right,
it doesn'’t. But this does.

So you found a sheep'’s collar
in my shop...

still doesn'’t actually prove
that I had a sheep in my shop!

[sighs] Okay,
you don'’t understand.

My clients
really need that sheep.

It'’s like
a family member to them.

Just give it back.

I won'’t tell anyone
you took it, I swear.

I'’d love to, but I can't.

You can'’t, or you won't?

I can'’t,

because I gave
the sheep away

to a personal
close friend of mine.

Who?

Satan!

You-you sacrificed
Russell Crowe to Satan?

Yeah! That'’s how we roll, man!

I sliced his throat,

and I dranked his blood,
and I burned his body,

and if you don'’t believe me,

here'’s his ashes.
[laughs]

Ooh, hoo hoo hoo hoo
hoo hoo hoo hoo hoo!

Thank you.

Yeah, you wanna
drink some blood?

No, no, I'’m good.

I still got some left...

party pooper.

[Sarah] Did you tell them
why you did what you did?

No, no, no. I was waiting
for you tell me when I could.

Okay, good.

And now is the time
I'’m telling you you can.

Okay.

[clears throat] My client
is ready to speak.

Yeah. Uh, I, uh...
[clears throat]

I met with Dimitri

only because I thought
he had something to do

with the death
of a good friend of mine.

Tex Johnson?

Now, how the hell
did you know that?

That'’s what we do, Ingmar.

My dad was only
getting close to Dimitri

to find out
if he did it or not.

So I pretended that I wanted
to buy his stolen cars.

But you actually
bought the cars.

Yeah, I didn'’t wanna
blow my cover, okay?

Doesn'’t change the fact
that you bought stolen cars!

That were transported
across state lines.

You could be spending
a lot of time behind bars.

Unless...

Unless what?

You continue wearing
this outfit you have on here.

Take another meeting
with Dimitri.

Are you crazy?
That'’s a suicide mission.
[scoffs]

Yeah, no. Don'’t, don't do it,
Dad, take the prison time.

I guarantee you I can
get you out in three years.

Yeah.

What?

How about we sweeten the pot?

Go undercover for us,
and we will fill you in

on a little secret
that we found out

about your dearly departed
friend Tex Johnson.

What the hell
are you talking about now?

Go undercover for us,
and you'’ll find out.

What do you say, Ingmar?

[INGMAR]
What did I say

to a deal
that might get me killed,

but definitely give me some new information about Tex?

What the hell
do you think I said?

You can'’t do this, Dad!

No, she'’s right.
What if Dimitri finds out?

[indistinct mumbling]

-Hey, stop talking!
-Sorry.

You no move!
You ruin my work!

Ah, okay.

[computer keys clacking]

[computer voice]
Dimitri won'’t find out.

Besides, it is the only way
I can find out

what the FBI knows about Tex.

You said you were
done with Tex.

I was, but then they dragged me back in, the bastards.

[scoffs] That'’s it.
I quit! I quit.

Sarah, please don'’t go.

Too late. See ya...
at your funeral.

What if they'’re lying to you?
What if they don'’t know
anything about Tex?

Damn, I had not thought
about that.

Are you being sarcastic?

Because it'’s
really hard to tell

with the computer voice.

Yes. I'’m being sarcastic.

How is it going
with the missing sheep?

Uh, he'’s been sacrificed
to Satan.

Oh.

I just don'’t have the heart
to tell Jack about it.

Why you not buy new sheep
that look like Russell Crowe,

and you pretend you found him?

That'’s a really great idea.

Okay, I finished.

[grunts]

Showtime!

Yeah!

♪

[Ingmar]
While Axel went to buy

a replacement ram
for Russell Crowe,

sadly killed
in a satanic ritual,

I was back with
the Devil himself, Dimitri.

[gunshot]

Who'’d he shoot this time?

-No one.
-Ah.

He'’s just practicing.

For what?

To put a bullet
straight through
your lying lips!

Ha!

Well, well, well.
Look what the cat dragged in.

Technically it wasn'’t a cat,
it was your two henchmen.

[chuckles] You know,
you won'’t think you're so funny
when you'’re dead.

I wouldn'’t do that
if I were you.

And why not?

The FBI sent me.

If I show up dead,
they'’ll know that you had
something to do with it.

Good point.

Then maybe
after I kill you,

I'’ll throw you
in a vat of acid,

and that way
you'’ll never show up dead.

[splat]

♪

[thud]

-[splat]
-[splat]

-[thud]
-[thud]

[train horn blows]

Oh, mate! Thank you so much
for finding Russell Crowe!

-Oh.
-Ah! [growls]

I'’m just doing my job.

Ah, it means the world to me,
it does.

It does,
and I'’m gonna spread the word.

Anybody who wants
to find a lost animal,

they should call
a Dicky Swede.

Well, Swedish Dick,

but Dicky Swedes
is kinda catchy.

Jack.

[dog barking]

This isn'’t Russell.
No drugs.

Georgie tells me that, um,

the ram you brought us
is not Russell Crowe.

What are you talking about?
He looks exactly like him.

From the outside,
but not the inside.

The inside?

Russell Crowe had ten pounds
of drugs inside of him.

Wait, why would he have
drugs inside him?

Oh, d-does he have
a medical condition, or?

No, because
we were using him

to bring drugs
into the country.

Oh, because you have
a medical condition?

No, because
I'’m a drug smuggler,
you dickhead!

Oh.

Come here.

In this Esky
are the guts

of the ram
that you brought us.

Now do you see ten pounds
of drugs in there?

Okay, let me explain,
right?

The man who took
Russell Crowe

drank his blood
and set fire to his body.

Why the fuck
would he do that?

Because he worships Satan,

and he used Russell Crowe
as a sacrifice.

Now, I felt sorry for you,

because you said your work
depended on it, you know,

with the, with the socks
and the sweaters.

So I bought you
a replacement sheep.

That'’s why you don't see
ten pounds of drugs
in that Esky.

Ah, right.

Well, so, this is the part
where you apologize
for lying to me.

No. This is the part
where I do this.

[groans]

Wanker!

[indistinct chatter]

I guess it'’s your
lucky day, Ingmar.

With Dimitri dead,
we have no use for you.

You'’re officially
a free man.

-And?
-And what?

You were going to tell me
something about Tex.

Yeah, that was only if you
helped us bring Dimitri in.

Oh, come on!

I thought
we were clear on that.

No, we weren'’t
clear on that,

not at all.

[chuckles]

[laughs]
Relax, Ingmar.

We'’re just yanking your chain.

Okay, okay,
what is it, then?

Your boy Tex
was a real character.

The agency was building
a big case against him.

They were gonna bring him in,
but then he died on us.

So...
what kind of case?

Didn'’t you think it was strange
that there was always some kind
of assassination...

...in whatever city
you and Tex happened
to be making a film in?

Oh, oh, whoa, whoa, whoa.
What-what-what are you
trying to tell me here?

Your boy Tex wasn'’t a stuntman.
That was his cover.

He was a hitman.

What?

He was a high-priced assassin,
Ingmar.

You guys.

You almost got me.

[laughs] Yeah,
that'’s a good joke.

It'’s no joke.

[Ingmar] And they backed up
everything they said.

There was always
an unsolved hit

in the cities Tex and I
had been filming in.

Influential businessmen
had been killed,

high-ranking politicians,
powerful gangsters,

all over the country,

and it all stopped
when Tex died.

Oh, my God.

My best friend was a killer.

He had lied to me
all those years.

♪

Tex?

You don'’t look too happy
to see me.

You'’re alive?

And so are you, my friend,
thanks to me.

[laughs] You killed Dimitri?

Yeah, I did.

So it'’s true then, huh?
You'’re a hitman?

We all have to find
our place in the universe.

I saw you die
with my own eyes.

It doesn'’t matter.

And what about your accent?

That'’s also fake,
just like your death,

just like our friendship, eh?

[sighs] Believe it or not,
Ingmar,

I did grow to have
feelings for you...

which is saying a lot,
considering I'’m a full-blown
narcissistic sociopath.

You ruined my life.

True. If it wasn'’t for me,
you'’d still be a stuntman.

Exactly.

With a broken-up body,

and a broken-up relationship

with the one thing
you'’ve learned to love

more than anything
in the world...

your daughter.

[mirthless chuckle]

So what'’s now?

That'’s up to you, Ingmar.

Well, I can'’t just
let you walk away.

I'’m warning you, drop this.

Don'’t come looking for me

and don'’t talk to the FBI
about our little meeting.

Or what?

If you do,
I'’m gonna find you,

and I'’m gonna kill you
right after I kill
your daughter.

♪

Great to see ya.

[speaks with Texan accent]
You take care now.

♪

What happened to you, man?
You got all red?

You gotta go poopy again?
You got to go poopy again?

♪