All language subtitles for Swedish Dicks s01e09.eng

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.

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...

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.

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.

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!

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.

Swedish Dicks 1x09

- Synced & Corrected by Dragoniod -
www.addic7ed.com

- Where should we start?
- There is no shortage of tacos in town.

Do you think anyone will
make tacos of Russell?

Tacos, burritos, enchiladas,

tamales, pambazos, tortas, menudo...

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...

- Shut up!
- Then they should know.

Quiet!

Ring Sarah.

The FBI arrested my dad?

Yes, for buying those
stolen cars from Dimitri!

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!

What are you looking at?

We won, hooray, go!

Hello? Hi.

Have-have you seen this sheep?

S�.

Really? You've seen it?

- Mm-hmm.
- You have?

Wow, wh-where?

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?

- Over there?
- Uh-huh.

Oh. Tack sa mycket.

That's Swedish, means...

muchas gracias.

Ha, de nada.

The witch is lying.

There is no sheep.

Oh.

Ha!

I love the internet.

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.

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...

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.

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!

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.

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.

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 can.

Okay.

My client
is ready to speak.

Yeah. Uh, I, uh...

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.

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?

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?

- Hey, stop talking!
- Sorry.

You no move! You ruin my work!

Ah, okay.

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.

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.

Showtime!

Yeah!

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.

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.

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.

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

- Oh.
- Ah!

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.

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.

Wanker!

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.

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.

Yeah, that's a good joke.

It's no joke.

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.

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?

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.

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.

You take care now.

- Synced & Corrected by Dragoniod -
www.addic7ed.com

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

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

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