Original subtitles

Shit.

Barry!

I'm actually fine.

What? Wake up.

Oh, what?

Bunk inspection.

Shit.

Kids, come on.

Brandon, out of bed. Come on!

Quick, quick, quick. Hurry up.

One second, Bobby.

Morning, boys.

Morning, Bobby.

Let's see those big smiles,

those happy faces ready to greet your moms and dads.

Together we can make this

the greatest Parents' Day in Beaver Falls' history.

It's the wack pack. The p-rents be buggin'.

What my, er... friend here is trying to say

is that today's irrelevant for us.

None of our parents shall be attending.

Speak for yourself, Lame-o, my dad's coming.

And he's the only one.

Dude, we're fat, we're here, out of sight and out of mind.

Well, even if your... your parents can't make it,

perhaps today is a chance to phone Mom and Dad.

Let 'em know how happy you are.

Tell 'em about our extensive sponsorship and donation schemes.

I am not an idiot, Spencer.

I know what happened here last night and I will deal with you later.

But right now, this place is a disgrace.

So, get it and those kids bright and shiny, capisce?

Enjoy Parents' Day, boys.

Ooh! Ah.

You look so peaceful when you sleep.

Morning.

Last night was really special.

Hey, did you enjoy your little fat-boy party last night?

Er... it was all right...

Ha-ha.

..thanks, yeah.

How's your hangover? Mine is reeking.

You should come along next time, Jakey boy. More the merrier.

OK, what happened to "I'm tired, I'm going to bed"?

Babe, if you wanted a brewski, me and the guys were watching the game.

Which you do every night.

OK, let's say I invited you. What would you have said?

I would have said... "Let's go."

Sure. Look, we both know you hate those guys, especially Barry.

Come on, he's part of the Chunk Bunk.

It's a grand Beaver Falls tradition for us to fuck with them.

Well, maybe this is one summer where we can let tradition go.

He's a friend of mine.

So, for me?

All right.

Getting buff. Show my dad how lean and mean I am.

That I've been working out, made the team.

Only the ineffectual define themselves by their parents.

Thankfully, I'm not like the rest of you. I'm glad mine aren't coming.

That's the attitude I like to hear.

We're having a great day with or without your folks. Give me five.

Morning.

What time do you call this, young man?

We've been up sick with worry.

We've phoned round all the hospitals, police stations.

Ha-ha.

Do you see what I'm seeing?

He's changed. Our boy has become a man.

Your first ever one-night stand.

Whatever.

Oi!

Don't really remember anything, but it was "really special".

I'll tell you what was special.

How you two managed to suck face for so long without coming up for air.

Man! How you even get a girl like that to suck your sorry face? She is hot.

Rachael is much prettier.

Well, either is better than cyber-stalking your ex.

I do not cyber-stalk her.

It's the occasional email. How do you know about that, anyway?

Mate, your password's "Saima". Took a millisecond to work it out.

Wait. Everyone's been reading my emails?

"I know it's over but I just want to know why. For me. For closure."

No, absolutely not.

Anyway, I haven't emailed her for ages.

Well, a week.

Looks like you're finally moving on.

I promised myself I wouldn't cry.

Big night?

Just a few beers with the boys. Nothing special.

I believe this is yours, Spencer. You Brits may be try-hards,

but you sure know how to throw a party.

And that A-Rab, crazy.

You should have come. It was a blast.

Well, maybe if I'd known about it.

Oops.

A-Rab? Crazy?

I think the word for it's drunk.

Great idea, throwing a big party the night before Parents' Day.

And it is comments like that

which stop me from being invited to these things, isn't it?

It wasn't a snub.

We didn't plan on having a party. It just kind of happened.

It might surprise you, but where I'm from,

I'm considered to be a pretty fun person.

Small town, yeah?

Shut up.

I guess I'm just sort of missing home today.

I'm not.

You're saying you didn't wake up this morning

wishing your mom was bringing you coffee

to soothe that crippling hangover you're pretending not to have?

She'd have to find me first.

What do you mean?

Flynn, your parents know you're here in America, right?

Shit, I knew there was something I was meant to do before I left.

They must be so worried not knowing where you are.

Isn't that... I don't know, a bit selfish?

I'm allowed to be selfish. One of the perks of dying young.

Look, I appreciate the concern. I do.

You don't need to do this Good Samaritan routine, OK?

I get that you're trying to pretend like this isn't happening...

You were right earlier.

It is comments like that which stop you getting invited to parties.

Attention! Parents incoming!

I repeat, parents incoming!

All hands on deck!

You make the team this year?

You bet, Dad. Quarterback.

Yeah?

Huh! Ha-ha-ha!

Ha-ha-ha.

This is what I mean.

We get to laze about all day while those suckers...

Get presents and shit from their parents.

Oh, dear God. Would you look at these imbeciles?

Falling over themselves to make Mummy and Daddy happy. Ridiculous.

It's all a meaningless biological chance.

One unlucky sperm.

Oh, no.

Isn't that golfer guy?

Rick Traviata.

Didn't that cracker win the Masters a few years back?

Twice, and the US Open three times.

He's the reason Barry failed half his A-levels.

And to lose his virginity.

Rick Traviata's Extreme Golf.

One of the greatest video games of all time.

If you can get a hole in one on the final Kahula Beach level,

I will personally drop to my knees and blow you.

Metaphorically.

Why is he waving at us?

Not you. Me.

Bloody hell! Rick Traviata is your dad! The Rick Traviata?

Aren't you gonna go and say hi to him?

Let the monkey do his dance first.

Smile.

This is so exciting for us.

Our, er... very own surprise guest, a Beaver Falls VIP.

In fact, it'd be wonderful if you could say a few words

at our... closing ceremony.

Er... sure.

Yeah, it's just a modest event.

You know, some parents like to, er...

well, make small donations. That sort of thing.

I'm just here to see my son.

I haven't seen him since he was this big.

Er... where's your lovely wife today?

Er... she won't be joining us.

Ah. Got a free pass from the old lady, eh? Say no more.

What happens at Beaver Falls stays at Beaver Falls.

We've decided to spend some time apart

so we can try and work things out.

It's a very painful and difficult time for both of us.

Of course, there's no better way to soothe the heart

than spending time with your children.

Shall we?

And here he is.

Ha-ha-hey! Rick!

Bet you're surprised to see me.

Life is the farce in which everyone has to perform.

Arthur Rimbaud?

He said that, huh? Well, that's something.

He was a French poet and he's dead.

Well, I didn't do it. I have an alibi.

Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!

Go on, go on. Say hi to him.

I can't, I can't.

So, aren't you going to do the introductions?

Flynn Spencer. I look after Rick Jnr's bunk.

Ah, from Scotland, huh? The home of our beautiful game.

They may take our clubhouse, but they'll never take our freedom!

Well, I'm a big fan. We all are.

Thanks, guys. Means a lot.

So, Junior, you gonna take me on a tour of this crazy camp of yours?

Nature calls.

Why don't I take you on that tour?

I'll wait for my son, thank you.

This is a disaster! The man can't stand me! 0

He's only just arrived. Calm down.

Remember your breathing exercises.

Fuck my exercises! We need him, Pam! We're in trouble

and he's the only serious wallet that's turned up!

Maybe if you weren't slobbering...

I'm not the problem! It's you! He can tell you're faking it!

Seeing as we shared a bed for 20 years,

I don't think you're in any position to know when someone is faking it.

Fine. What exactly is it that you want me to do?

We're meant to be a family camp. We gotta sell this thing!

So, look me in the eye, take my hand and tell me you love me!

I love you, Bobby.

You mean the world to me.

Pam...

We have parents waiting.

Mate, what do you do after a one-night stand?

I mean, do you just pretend it never happened? Do you thank them?

Erm... Look, it's a bit like being a chat-show host.

Even if your guest is terrible and you really don't want to speak

to them, you've got to keep smiling and pretend that maybe one day

you might want to invite them back on the show. Then get them the hell off so your next guest can come on.

All right, kids?!

Heh-hey!

What the fuck are you wearing?

Craziest thing happened. Jake comes up to me,

says, "Hey, Barry, we should hang out."

I didn't realise Jake was Australian.

Next thing I know,

he's getting me all dressed up to play in the game, on his team,

which means I get to be in a softball game with Rick Traviata.

It's fucking great.

It's like... like destiny or...

Or Jake setting you up.

You don't think the reason he's getting you to play

is to... you know - hm-hm, hm-hm - humiliate you?

Yeah. Obviously.

But it's softball.

It's cricket for girls. How hard can it be?

Fuck off.

Ha-ha. Seriously. Fuck off.

But, ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to call up golf legend,

Mr Rick Traviata,

to perform the ceremonial first pitch!

What a guy! Let the games begin!

Good pitch, Rick.

Hey, you!

Hey, um... you.

Er... thanks for... coming along.

Got plans for later?

Oh, um... well, most of my kids' parents haven't shown up,

so we're throwing a little Chunk Bunk barbecue for them.

Sounds great. I'll bring a salad.

Cute, aren't they? God, get a room, you two!

Ha-ha.

Heads up!

Hey, heads up in the bleachers!

OK, bat her up.

Arriba, arriba, arriba, arriba!

What about this guy? Is he any good?

He's the missing link between ape and man. What do you think?

I think it's good seeing you again. I missed you, shortstop.

Yes, the volumes of letters and phone calls were... overwhelming.

The kid's a natural! Give him his own video game!

Barry! Barry! Barry!

Barry! Barry! Barry!

Strike one!

Hey! There's two more balls.

Yeah, for you.

Ha! English!

I hit it! I hit the ball! I hit the ball!

Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!

You do know you're supposed to run?

Go on, Barry!

Go, Barry.

My boy's next! Yeah, come on.

I don't want to do it.

Don't worry. I'll be pitching to you, kiddo.

OK, kid, now hit it out of the park.

See what you can do. Hit us a home run.

Strike one!

He's not even moved!

Strike two.

Just swing the damn bat, OK?

He's out.

Nice pitching, Rick.

Don't touch me.

OK, people, who's up next? We got to keep it going. You got to be in it to win it!

Look, I'm not totally blind to the fact that some people find you... charming.

Look, today is not going as planned.

Rick Jnr and his dad just aren't clicking.

Yeah, he hates him.

Which is why I need you to sprinkle a little bit of that charm on.

Get 'em happy. Smiling.

Hugging.

At the end of the day, I want to see Mr Traviata up on that stage

handing over a cheque to our camp.

A cheque?

Yeah, just... yeah, just giving a speech.

Words of wisdom for our young charges.

But do you not think you're better off dealing with this yourself?

Well, if you... you get two alpha males, like...

me and Traviata in the same space,

there's friction. It's a law of nature.

Right.

Just talk to his kid. Sort him out.

You do that for me and I'll forget about the little party you had last night.

I was gonna bust your balls so hard.

Maybe next time, huh?

My sources tell me that you've never hit a home run at Beaver Falls.

You just got lucky. If you want to stay lucky, you should shut the fuck up.

Must really annoy you, though.

Coming here for years and years and never coming close to my triumph.

Is this close enough?

I'm. Not, Scared. Of...

Jake, what are you doing?

OK. Let's take 'em out and measure 'em.

I'm serious. Unzip, slap 'em down and we'll see who's got the biggest.

It started off as kind of flattering,

but it got boring quick and now it's just pathetic.

I know, totally.

I'm talking about both of you.

We have a whole camp full of whining kids.

Do we really need two more?

I don't suppose you could ease up a little? Give your dad a break?

You were the one who said we didn't need them.

I said if they weren't here not to stress about it.

Come on, he's trying.

Yes, very trying.

Hi, Rick. How are you?

Listen. I was wondering.

Oh, God, this is gonna sound so geeky.

Could you get your dad's autograph for my folks? They're big fans.

He'd love to. You know what?

Lunch is in an hour or so, so, er...

join Rick and his dad for it.

Really? That'll be cool.

Well, it's a date, then.

Great. I'll see you then.

Why on earth did you do that?

Oh, for God's sakes, it happens all the time.

People find out who my father is and suddenly they want to be nice to me.

Rick. I'm telling you this as a friend.

You're fat, you're pompous. You need all the help you can get.

Well, she's shallow, wilfully ignorant of my intellectual prowess,

and has shown no interest in me before.

I've seen you looking at her. What's it you like?

Her IQ? Her brains? The fact she subscribes to The New Yorker?

Does she?

No, idiot.

She's shallow and giggly, and you're a hypocrite.

She likes that your dad's famous and you like her

because she's a bona fide hottie. It's the same.

Now's your chance to show off, win her over with that intellectual prowess.

Your dad's the most powerful weapon in your arsenal.

You should be glad he's here. So, relax.

Trust me. It's gonna be good.

Just to let you know, lunch is ready, Mr Traviata.

Great.

An hour sitting next to a kid who has no interest in me whatsoever.

It's probably the reason my form is slipping.

I should be at the range working on my swing.

Instead, I drive for hours so my son can publicly humiliate me.

I don't think he was trying to humiliate you.

It might even be that he thought it was the other way round.

You're saying it was my fault?

No, I... I was just suggesting...

Well, pardon my fucking French. You're not saying it was,

you're just suggesting it was.

I apologise.

It's just he's got a date, for lunch. Probably his first date ever.

What is she, some sort of bookish nerdling?

The sort of girl who'll grow up to be an angry lesbian,

spouting angry, shitty, lesbian poetry to other angry lesbians?

She's a cheerleader.

No way.

Like I said, this is all new to him.

It might be good to have his dad by his side.

Bit of advice? Some support?

So, what, is she like some angry, lesbian cheerleader?

Barry! Stop it.

You know, I could have taken Jake if Kimberley hadn't interrupted us.

I was this close.

Yeah, well, don't take it out on the burgers.

Yeah, I know she's annoyed with him too,

but I bet he still gets a blow job before bed.

I'm going for a smoke.

No, we're gonna have a proper meal together as a bunk.

You're meant to grill them, not torture them.

Yeah, I knew I was doing something wrong.

So, I heard you had a good time last night at the party.

With Louisa.

Er... yeah, yeah. It was... it was fun.

Well, she is a fun girl.

The sort of girl you have a beer with, take to a party.

Yeah.

Unlike me. Ha-ha.

Well, no, no, no. That's not what I meant.

A-Rab, it's OK. So you said you're not ready for a relationship.

But if you're feeling different now, I'm glad you're getting over Saima.

It's not a relationship.

No, it's just a... a one-night thing. You know, casual. Casual sex.

God, A-Rab. There's well done and then there's well done.

He's hopeless, isn't he?

Oh, well, lucky you've got me around now.

Mm, yeah.

Did you know that, er... New Jersey has a spoon museum

with over 5,400 spoons from every state in almost every country?

Not that, er... the style and design of the spoon really...

deviates much from region to region.

You know, they're essentially always... spoon-like.

Three things a man should never have to wait for.

A good cigar, a stiff drink and lunch.

So, I'm sorry if I kept you all hanging on.

No, not at all. Hope you appreciate our modest little setup.

It's just a token of our...

Right, er... if you need anything, you just... you just holler,

cos I'll just be...

We're big fans. We actually saw you play at the Masters back in 2006.

I appreciate it. It's folks like you that keep me doing what I do.

So, er... how are your studies? At school?

Your grades. Are they adequate?

Er... they're OK, I guess.

Seriously, kid?

What? It's a valid question.

You gotta tell some stories, make 'em laugh.

Like the time you and your mom came to visit me on tour.

No.

Little Ricky, he's got a thing about ghosts.

They really don't want to hear this.

So, it's like two in the morning.

And this little guy is terrified to make it to the toilet in the dark.

And, you know, nature calls.

Father, please.

So, me and the wife are woken by this noise.

Vvv! Vvv! Vvv!

Vvv! Vvv!

Vvv! I'm thinking, "What the hell?

"Maybe the boogie man's coming to get us."

This little guy is trying to vacuum his goddamn bed dry!

He's standing there running it back and forth like some crazy spic maid!

Well, if we're telling funny stories, why don't we tell the one

about how you got caught in flagrante delicto with the nanny?

Ah.

Or how you missed my birthday.

Or should I say birthdays, like every year?

You shouldn't talk back to your father, son.

He is a championship golfer, after all.

I believe it's "was a championship golfer", not "is".

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

Rick...

Well, it means you're a washed-up, old has-been.

So I'd enjoy this while you can.

Hey, nobody talks that way to me, you hear? Nobody!

Is this what your mother's been saying about me?

I can smell her bullshit all over it. I don't have to take it

from her, and I certainly don't have to take it from some kid

who wet the bed till he was nine fucking years old!

Eight.

I wet the bed until I was eight years old.

Oh, so Jake and Barry are both idiots.

Mm. Guess what I found in the bookcase behind the Bible?

My secret stash.

Yeah. Yeah, hide it in the boring girl's office. She'll never know.

I know now.

Ugh. You know, I came here thinking

people would see the real me.

But what do they see? Boring, hillbilly, virgin Rachael.

Well, I'm sick of people putting me in a box.

Aren't you?

Sick of people putting you in a box?

Well, everyone thinks you're this dumb, slutty blonde.

Thank you.

Sure, you wander around waving your bam-bams in people's faces.

Oh, yes, I definitely think you've had enough.

Whoa, whoa. OK, well, you might be OK with it, but I'm not.

Fuck 'em. I'm getting out of the box.

"Relax," you said, "trust me."

You should never take advice from intellectual inferiors.

What he said was out of line but running away won't solve anything.

Try and stop me, I'll tell everyone you touched me in my swimsuit area.

Is that what I think it is?

Please don't tell Bobby.

He'll tell the police. I... I can't do jail. I'm too pretty.

Well, we better destroy the evidence, then.

Right, I'm not pissing around any more.

Get back to the bunk.

Why?

So you can get a big pat on the back from my amazing father?

No, cos it's my job to stop idiots like you wandering off from camp.

Well, Flynn, let me be the one to burst your little bubble.

You're terrible at your job.

God only knows how you were dragged up

if this is your idea of "in loco parentis".

I'm trying to help you here but you're making it really difficult.

Well, clearly your parents did a marvellous job

of raising a narcissistic, self-seeking... man whore.

This really isn't about me and my family.

Aw. Touched a nerve? Is poor little Flynny missing Mummy and Daddy?

They're probably glad to get rid of you.

You don't know what you're talking about.

And they'd probably be glad if you never came back.

Fuck it.

Off you go, then.

See ya.

Rick Jnr is an idiot.

I would be proud to be Barry Traviata.

Let's do it.

You know, in the state of California,

it's actually legal to adopt a monkey as your legitimate heir.

You know, I was just trying to help him.

Sure, the kid can do math and shit,

but he's hopeless when it comes to women.

Well, he's not the only one.

There's this girl. It's sort of complicated.

Don't tell me. Let me guess. She's out of your league, right?

You're hoping that one day she wakes up and decides that you're the one.

Whoa.

You're good.

Forget about it, Gary.

Snakes with tits.

Turn your back on 'em for a second, they'll fucking eat you.

It's funny.

I always knew one day I'd have the father-son talk about girls.

I just...

didn't think it'd be with some...

stoned British guy,

instead of Rick Jnr.

We can't even talk about chicks.

Hey! What's the situation?

Yeah, it's all good.

Really? Because I can't see my VIP or his son, either of them,

anywhere at all!

Bobby, I'm doing my best.

I don't want your best.

I want to know this is under control.

I need to know this is under control.

Is this under control?

It's under control.

OK.

Good. All under control. Thank you!

Bobby! Beaver photo time.

Let me do it.

Squeeze in tight.

Say beaver!

You have to make them eat their vegetables, A-Rab.

I mean, they're just ignoring them.

You're not my mom.

Hey, how's it going?

Where's Rick Jnr?

Oh, he's left camp.

Yeah, packed his bags and hit the highway.

Seriously?

What? He'll give up and come back.

Besides, the walk'll do him good. He needs the exercise.

Dude, are you for real?

What if he gets attacked by paedophiles?

Well, that's not gonna happen, is it? He's not attractive enough.

She's kind of got a point.

Look, I tried to stop him but I couldn't.

His dad's a dick, he hates it here and he won't listen to me.

Probably because you forced him into a humiliating date,

which is gonna take him years of therapy to get over.

Rachael! Got a bit of a situation.

Rick Jnr's kind of... He's kind of run away.

Oh, so, now you want the whole Good Samaritan act?

Well, Flynn Spencer, you can spin on it.

That's, er... that's the wrong finger.

Oh, go tell it to your girlfriend!

Rachael! Come on!

Don't worry, Flynn. I'll get him back for you.

No.

He needs us.

All right, I get it. I'm a bad person. I'll sort it out, OK?

You have got to be the world's slowest walker.

Just leave me alone!

Why are you so desperate to go home, huh?

Why do you think things are gonna be any better back there?

I don't want to talk about it.

And I never said I wanted to go home. That was your inference.

OK, so why don't you want to go back home?

They're divorcing.

It's so cliched.

They've been bickering about custody.

It's like Kramer vs Kramer.

Except neither of them wanted me.

Oh, it's OK, Flynn.

You're emotionally underdeveloped. I didn't expect you to understand.

I don't know why he came here.

He's trying to get to know you.

He cares nothing for me, for my passions.

He hasn't asked me one question about art or literature.

When was the last time you asked him about something he cares about, huh?

You know, you could put that superiority complex to some use.

Be the bigger man.

Look, sorry, I've got to go do something.

OK. What are we doing?

No, just me, all right? I need to check Rachael's OK.

She's not your girlfriend, you know.

I know.

But, um... sort of... neither are you, really.

What about last night?

Yeah, um... about that?

I'm sorry if you got the wrong idea, with us sleeping together and everything.

I mean, not that it wasn't lovely. You know, sex, brilliant.

We didn't have sex.

Er... you said it was really special.

It was! A really special night.

We opened up to each other. We talked. You cried.

Do you know how hard it is to find a guy who's in touch with his feelings?

Well, um... I'm really not.

I mean, if I was, I probably wouldn't still be standing here talking to you.

No offence.

So, you lied to me? This whole sensitive thing, it's just an act?

Well, no. I mean...

yes,

yes, it is.

I'm sorry. I'm just a bad person.

Did you tell everyone we slept together?

Kind of, yeah.

I don't think we should see each other any more.

I understand.

Listen, it's been great having you on the show.

Take care.

Where did it all go wrong?

How do you do it?

What?

The final Kahula Beach level. How do you get the hole in one?

Rick Traviata's Extreme Golf.

I don't know. I haven't played the fucking game.

It's just some piece of shit I slapped my name on.

Piece of shit?

That... that was a work of art.

You ever think that maybe if you spent more time out in the real world

experiencing life

and less time sitting on your ass playing shitty video games,

you wouldn't be so bad with women?

Being honest, man.

Making friends again, are we, Daddy?

Nice to see you again.

Hope you enjoyed your stay with us.

You hit any good... balls recently, or...?

Uh... sure. Uh...

guess so.

You should try it some time. I'll take you out.

Been there. Done that.

I'll pass.

When?

Oh, there was this mini-golf thing at camp.

Me and a couple of my friends went down and played a round.

Honestly, I can see what Mark Twain meant

when he said it was a waste of a good walk.

He one of your friends?

Yes, Dad, Mark Twain is my best friend.

Well, I'd like to meet him some time.

I'm, um... I'm glad you've made some buddies. Really.

Dad?

Mark Twain is a 19th-century American author.

Samuel Langhorne Clemens.

I know who Mark Twain is.

But you are making friends, right? Things are OK?

Yeah. They're OK.

Just step away from the cart.

Come on.

What are you doing?

Nothing. I am certainly not stealing Bobby's golf cart.

Because a boring person wouldn't do that.

And I'm... boring.

Yeah, you certainly like to go on about it.

Ha!

You're drunk.

Knew you wouldn't understand.

Come on, scoot, eh? Friends don't let friends drink-drive.

No, no.

You're both nuts. Just get out of the cart.

No, no, no. Honey, I'm too... too tense.

My boy's in your bunk, right? Brandon.

Uh... yeah, yeah, yeah.

Pretty good on the field too. Yeah?

You might have a little Joe Montana on your hands.

Joe Montana! Thanks.

No problem.

That was really sweet, Jake, and very grown-up. Don't you think, Barry?

Um... thanks for not blowing his cover.

She was right. We've been acting like a couple of little bitches.

So, come on, man. What do you say we hug it out?

Come on.

Uh!

You see, Barry, I'm a winner, and you are always gonna be a fucking loser.

So, big smile and give my girl the thumbs up, OK?

Is this thing on?

Ha! Uh...

we... we hope you've enjoyed this... this day...

er... as much as we have enjoyed having you.

Um... er... who knows?

We... we might still have a, er... a surprise up our sleeves.

Er... and remember, we are always happy for parents

to be involved on every level.

Er... spiritually, physically, er... financially.

I would never be so, er... crude as to ask you for donations.

Doesn't mean we don't want 'em.

Thank you, Bobby.

And here we are, my lady.

Shit! Shit!

Uh-oh. Ooh!

Get back, you bastard!

Looks like we're gonna slam.

Er... ladies and gentlemen,

I'd like to thank Mr Hussain for, er...

for recreating the famous golf cart crash of the 1992 British Open.

And, er... what better way to welcome our star guest,

the man behind the wheel on that fateful day, Mr Rick Traviata!

You want to make an entrance, you know, just ask.

I'm not gonna talk about Beaver Falls.

I'm gonna talk about something more important. My son.

This place means a lot to him. It's a place of safety.

Of wonder. Of... and adventure.

For him and his little fat friends.

Like Mark Twain.

And great counsellors like Flynn and Gary and... the Indian guy.

You know, sometimes I wish I could have been

more than just a championship golfer.

Sometimes I guess I wish I could have been a better father, but I know

this camp has made my boy a better son,

which is why I'm pleased to present this cheque to my good friend, Bobby,

in the hopes that Beaver Falls will continue to grow and grow.

Don't touch me, Bobby.

Why did you get in the golf cart, A-Rab?

Well, because I get it, you know.

Everyone has this idea of you,

and the only way to change it is to do something

so out of character that...

They'll say, "Heavens to Betsy, I didn't expect that."

Yeah. Yeah, apart from the "heavens to Betsy" bit.

I want you to take it.

Take what?

My virginity!

Cos everybody thinks it's a big deal that I've never done it,

and I might as well get it over with.

Oh, you old romantic, you.

Seriously, though, I'm too good in bed.

You really want to be sober to appreciate it.

So, it's fine for Louisa but not for me?

Rachael, I didn't sleep with her.

I knew it!

He didn't sleep with her.

You know, I...

I like you, Rachael.

A lot. And if anything ever happened between us,

I'd want it to...

you know, to mean something.

A-Rab, I am not as drunk as you think I am.

Well, at least you didn't run away.

'Hello?'

Hi, Mum.

'Andrew!'

It's the hottest day of the year. Everyone's getting some.

B-O-B-B-Y!

It's bad.

Oh, God.

By the fringe of Beaver!

I'm having a big curfew party tonight.

I told you, no going in my shed.

No, no, don't!

I need to find Rachael.

You know a lot about sex, but you know nothing about love.

Saima. What the hell are you doing here?

Today has made a mockery of my teenage years.

Rick Traviata's Extreme Golf is a lie.

Off the palm tree.

What?

On the final Kahula Beach golf level.

You get the hole in one by bouncing the ball off the palm tree.

No fucking way!

Oh, it was painfully obvious.

Especially as there was a big arrow over the palm tree.

But I thought that was a balloon.

Barry, let it go.

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