Shoresy (2022) s03e01 Episode Script
4-6
(funky electronic music)
(Nat): Dream season.
After going almost entirely
winless the year before,
this year, we went undefeated.
24 wins, zero losses.
A perfect season.
And a NOSHO record.
Then things got even better.
We made our bid for the
National Senior Tournament,
and we got it. The best
hockey teams in Canada
are coming here to play
for the national title
against you, in Sudbury.
Let's set the fuckin' tone!
After our perfect
regular season,
it appeared the table was set.
We would win the NOSHO
playoffs and then move on
to the National
Senior Tournament.
But the playoffs
didn't go as planned.
("Blues Run the Game"
by Laura Marling)
Catch a boat to
England, baby ♪
Maybe to Spain ♪
Wherever I have gone ♪
Wherever I've been and gone ♪
Wherever I have gone ♪
The blues run the game ♪
Send out for whiskey, baby ♪
Send out for gin ♪
Me and room service, honey ♪
Me and room service, mama ♪
Me and room service ♪
We are living a life of sin ♪
When I'm not sleeping, honey ♪
You are on my mind ♪
When I'm not sleeping, honey ♪
I ain't sleeping, mama ♪
When I ain't sleeping ♪
You know you'll
find me crying ♪
(Shoresy wails indistinctly)
Fuck's sake.
Like, it's so dumb.
(Shoresy sobbing)
What a fuckin' bunch of losers.
(footsteps thud approaching)
(freezer door slams)
What can we say boys?
Nothing worse than
losing to the Yanks.
- In our own fuckin' barn.
- Especially in our own barn.
(Hitch): I don't know what
to say for the best, b'ys.
(speaking French)
Maybe there ain't no best to it.
But just because we lost
doesn't mean there shouldn't
be a game stick.
Goody, you played through
a separated shoulder.
Dolo, foot fracture.
Never seen a team so hurt
as this by the Lard Jaysus.
Fish, you came back
from a skate laceration
to the neck.
Shoresy. (Shoresy sobs)
You came back from a
concussion in the first round.
And you played through a
torn groin and a hip pointer.
What happens with a hip pointer?
Can't push when you shit.
You were the leader
this team needed.
Shoresy,
game stick goes to you, my man.
(players clap)
Be proud, Shoresy.
Chin up, buddy.
Lard Jaysus, boys,
we nearly had 'em!
(Shoresy wails)
- What is it, my dude?
- I can't.
I brought you guys
in because everybody
was acting like bitches.
And now you're all
acting like bitches, too.
- Okay, that's unfair, Shoresy.
- Just shut the fuck up,
Michaels.
- We just lost
to the Yanks. You're all
acting like you wanna eat
each other's pussies.
Like you're opening a second
bottle of wine with
your gal pal.
- My son
I don't wanna fuckin'
lift my head right now
'cause you're probably all
giving each other ski poles.
Ski poles?
Come on, Shoresy, say
something positive.
(Shoresy): Fuckin'
Sommerfeld's dog mom
wasn't lickin' her lips at me
all fuckin' night for once.
- Okay.
- Fuckin' Briggsy's fat sister
isn't looking as ugly as when she
tried to fuck me two years ago.
- Shoresy.
- Fuckin' Michaels' ex-sweetie
flashed me her bird and I
thought it as an accident,
but now I don't think it was.
- Hey!
What about Phillips? He
had the game of his life.
- Who?
- Phillips.
- That's Phillips.
- No, it isn't.
- Who do you think that is?
- I don't fuckin' know.
- Shoresy, the boys are hurt.
- It's fuckin' hockey!
You go 'til you
can't go no more.
Fuck! (hockey sticks
clatter loudly)
(Sanguinet exhales)
- Let's get drunk.
- Wait, how drunk?
Like NOSHO record party drunk?
(pulsing club music)
I don't think we should
get that drunk again.
It's been long enough. You
should go say something.
(Nat): This is
- Unfortunate?
Pathetic?
A real cunt.
We're hosting the National
Senior Tournament in a week.
We're beat up from the feet up.
Seven days rest
can go a long way.
We're supposed to be there
because we're the best team.
Now we're only there
'cause we're the host team.
So, the host team
gets in automatically.
Look at it as good fortune.
- We're the team that gets
in on a formality.
- We're throw-ins.
Doesn't matter how
you get to the dance,
you just gotta get there.
- We're filler.
- Freeloaders.
- Nat.
When they see the Sudbury guys,
you think anyone's gonna
look at them and say,
"Uh-oh." Won't get any respect.
Sometimes you have to demand it.
Yo, last year we
wanted to win one game.
This year, we won them all.
Now we have a chance to win
the whole country. Cash in.
We've got a week to get
these guys over this loss
and refocused for the
National Senior Tournament.
We've gotta get 'em healed.
Thank fuck there won't
be much fighting.
I dunno. There may be a
national title on the line,
but it's still senior
whale shit hockey.
Seriously. Nat, at least
go check on Shoresy.
Yeah, ask him when he's
gonna start chipping in
on the scoresheet.
- He always finds
a way to contribute. (Miig):
He can't handle losing.
Show me someone who
can handle losing
and I'll show you a loser.
Let's get these guys drunk.
Wait how drunk?
Yeah. NOSHO record
party drunk?
(pulsing club music)
I don't think they should
get that drunk again.
(downtempo lounge music)
(SOO Hunt players whooping)
Let's go boys! Fill 'er
up, barmaid! Come on!
You boys wanna give it a hoist?
Something to remind you
of the good old days?
Goody couldn't if he wanted to.
All right, that's enough.
Won't let ya drink out of it,
but why don't ya
come give it a kiss?
- Drink your beer.
- I'll go get the bouncers.
- They don't need them.
- Come on over, boys.
Give it a kiss.
- Let's keep it classy.
Can't wait to rip a
snooter off this thing.
Come on! Kiss it!
Fuckin' pussies.
(Delaney): The runner-ups!
(SOO Hunt players cheer)
What's that you were saying
about respect again, Miig?
- Sometimes you have to
- It's pathetic.
What's wrong with them?
(Shoresy): I'm fuckin' hurt!
Oh, I'm fuckin' real hurt.
- Your head?
- No.
- Your hand?
- No.
My heart.
- Are you hurt,
or are you injured?
- We're the fuckin'
Teenage Mutant Injured Turtles.
You gotta leave it
behind you, my guy.
Game seven. In our barn.
Refocus.
We're going to the
National Senior Tournament.
Yeah, as fuckin'
honorable mentions.
(Big Sexy): Tit fucker.
- As runner-ups.
- Runners-up.
- As the guys who didn't
earn it. It's embarrassing.
(Hitch): Ya needs
a break, me son.
After that hit you took
in the first round,
you should be out four
to six weeks, old man.
Four to six?
Just 'cause I can't
push when I shit,
you think it's four to
six? (Goody): Settle down.
- What are you even doing?
- Lookin' at girls
on the internet.
(Sanguinet): Why?
- Had a sec.
- Goody's hurt worse than me.
Goody's not hurt so
bad as what you are.
- He's got his arm in a sling.
- It's a holster.
- Goody's four to six.
- Just 'cause I have my arm
in this, you think
it's four to six?
Dolo's hurt worse than Goody is.
Takes ya 20 minutes to
get from the crapper
to the couch, old man.
Doesn't matter. We're all
fuckin' losers anyway.
(Hitch): Never see a team
with so many injuries as this,
b'ys, by the Lard Jaysus.
We're the tag alongs
of the tournament.
(door slams, Big Sexy squawks)
Oh, nice work, Sanguinet.
Now you've upset Big Sexy.
You wanna find out
who's the most hurt?
- Go easy, Big Sex.
- Come where we're to.
We has a walking competition.
- A walking competition?
You says you're not hurt
so bad as what he is.
- Get control of your bird.
- He says he's not hurt
so bad as what you is.
- You talk like
a fuckin' idiot, eh?
And you're hurt more bad
So, come on over where we're to.
We has a walking competition
and we finds out
who's the most hurt.
Don't walk out on me, old man!
(Shoresy): I'm takin'
care of my bird!
(Nat): Who do you
think is the most hurt?
Shoresy really got his bell
rung in the first round.
He was a fuckin' ghost
the second round.
- He got trucked.
- Maybe it'll make him
less stubborn.
- Won't make him less stupid.
We ready?
- We're ready.
Let's get started.
(Shoresy): Well, can
I premise it by saying
something first?
- Premise?
- Huh?
- What do you mean, premise?
Well, I wanna
Nutella's junk, eh?
Preface.
If you wanna ruin a
good piece of toast.
Fer how do you
Well, you wants to say something
before you walks, right?
I was gonna say a
few words, yeah.
Okay, well ya wants
to preface it.
So I meant to say
preface but I said premise?
- That's what ya did, b'y.
- Oh, my God.
What an idiot, eh?
- Good thing no chick saw that.
- Settle down.
- I dies at ya, b'y.
- Well, I guess
I'm going to preface my walk
by saying, and I'm sure you've
all noticed this before,
I have one leg shorter
than the other.
- By how much?
- By about two inches.
Two inches?
Inch and a half,
two inches, yeah.
No, b'y. Never
knew that, old man.
Well, I try not to
make a big deal of it.
Try not to let it get
in my way. Get me down.
But if you notice something in
my walk, it's probably that.
I don't have to talk while I'm
doing it or anything, right?
- No, b'y.
- Go.
You want me to rush you
when you're walking?
Let's have a little
etiquette in here, boys.
A little sportsmanship
here, now.
(Shoresy sniffs)
(Hitch): K, now come
back where we're to.
See, it's just a little
slower than ordinary.
But that's probably the leg,
which we've established.
Otherwise, there's really
nothing out of the ordinary.
Yeah, so
- Four to six.
Just 'cause I can't
push when I shit?
You walk like you
had your shit pushed.
B'y, I knew you'd be
lookin' four to six but
Who's up next?
I didn't think you'd be
lookin' that four to six.
Could we just keep
this moving, please?
(Miig): Yes. Teams
for this year's
National Senior
Tournament are set.
- Dynamite.
- Against all odds,
we'll have teams from
all over Turtle Island
representing western
Canada, eastern Canada,
Quebec, northern Ontario,
southern Ontario, and us.
Six whole teams.
Why aren't the other
provinces sending teams?
Because it's senior
whale shit hockey.
Up first, representing
western Canada,
from the province of Alberta,
home of Treaties 6, 7, and 8,
the Brooks Barrelmen.
From the heart of
cowmen country Canada,
for these guys, it's hockey
all winter, rodeo all summer.
They're tie-down
ropers, steer wrestlers,
and of course, bull
and bronco riders.
You've gotta be
certifiable for that sport.
Stupid tough.
According to the scouting
report, they kinda are.
- Tough?
- Stupid.
- How stupid?
- Time will tell.
If we're talking
notable players,
we're talking the Friesen
twins, AKA the Freezer Twins.
- Why Freezer?
- Because they're built
like large appliances.
(Miig): These guys played
Team Canada rugby
for four years.
So, needless to say,
they like to hit.
(crowd jeers)
Keep your head up
around these guys
or you know what'll happen.
(Shoresy): Four to six!
I'll be the judge of that,
me son. Dolo, you're up.
Hold on. You ready?
Little sportsmanship
in here, eh?
- Sorry, b'y.
- Let's let Dolo get focused
for his walk here, boys. A
little quiet in here now.
(Dolo inhales deeply)
(chill hip-hop music playing)
(Dolo exhales deeply)
Well, who's lookin'
four to six now?
He's lookin' pretty four to six.
(Shoresy): Mm-hmm.
You can't really
walk at all, bro.
Hard to believe he's been
doing it his whole life.
What's good.
- He's more four to six
than Shoresy.
- B'ys, we still don't really
know who's the four to sixiest.
(Nat): Okay, who's next?
Representing eastern Canada,
from Prince Edward Island,
the Charlottetown Reds.
PEI, Mi'kmaq territory.
Not unlike folks
from Newfoundland,
Prince Edward Islanders
have some unique speech.
- Example?
- Ever seen the Prince Edward
Island Encyclopedia on YouTube?
- What's goin' on?
I'll fuckin' flatten
ya, young buck.
I'm gonna come to your house
and slam your fuckin' cupboards.
- Nice kit bag there, big nuts.
- I'll beat you like you're
on a fishin' trip
with your father.
Easy there, George Clooney.
Where'd the cows die?
Who the fuck are you?
(speaking gibberish)
- Noted.
- Most of these guys
are commercial fishermen.
Out on the Atlantic
for days on end
fishing for herring,
mackerel, crab.
They know hard work.
But a handful of them
are owners-operators
of what many call the
best seafood shack
on Prince Edward Island.
Serving up fresh shucked
oysters, seafood chowder,
and their signature
lobster rolls.
(Nat): I'm hungry.
So, who are we watching for?
(Ziig): These guys play as
a unit. No one-man shows.
Beware, they're pedal to
the rug for a full sixty.
Hard fuckin' workers.
But a standout in another sense
would be the gorgeous
Gord Gallant.
This guy makes panty soup.
(Miig): Ew. (Ziig):
He soaks Uggs.
(Nat): Entering a
dink phase, eh, Ziig?
If you can resist him,
you're doing well.
- Up to the task?
- Probably just another
Instagram doll and
real-life donkey.
When was the last time
you dated a hockey player?
You don't date sluts.
You just take 'em down.
- Anything else?
- Aside from all of that,
the word on these guys is that
they're just really nice.
Nice?
Nice.
(Shoresy): Well,
that's fuckin' nice.
- Holy!
- Agreed.
- So dumb.
- You can walk more good
than Dolo, but he's
playin' better.
Well, you gotta find
a way to contribute.
Sanger, sit down.
Shut the fuck up.
- What're you guys doin'?
- Walking competition.
- Walking competition?
- To find out who's hurt
more bad than who. Now,
you're up, old man.
(chill hip-hop music playing)
(Shoresy): Oh, fuck.
Think he'd be that good?
- At walking?
- Yep.
(Hitch): No.
- Me neither.
(Shoresy): Me neither.
Now come back where
we're to, me son.
Yep. Yep, he's good.
He walks good.
I ain't never seen anybody
walk so good as that.
No, me neither.
(Shoresy): I know. I know.
- Sanguinet?
- No, no, no.
He doesn't get to just
waltz in here and say
who walks good.
That's good walking,
Goody. Congratulations.
You're the least four to six.
Well, Dolo, Hitch,
we're runner-ups again.
- Runners-up.
- Yep.
Lost the NOSHO Cup. Now we
lost the walking competition.
May as well be
eatin' solo paninis.
- Why?
- We're fuckin' losers.
Never seen a team
with so many injuries
as this, b'ys, by
the Lard Jaysus.
Think anyone's gonna see the
Bulldogs and say "Uh-oh"?
No fuckin' way. (door slams)
(Big Sexy squawks)
Want me to come over
to your house, slam
your fuckin' doors?
(energetic rock music)
Anik Archambault here,
welcoming you back to another
edition of Questionable
Call brought to you
by BROdude Energy.
With me, as always,
are panelists Jay
Onrait, Tessa Bonhomme,
and the man they call RA.
Mesdames and messieurs,
as you are well aware,
BROdude Energy has been granted
the exclusive
broadcasting rights
of the National Senior
Hockey Tournament
in Sudbury, Ontario.
Can only imagine the
cutthroat competition
for that contract, Anik.
- Bet it was eye popping.
Remember when we used
to cover real hockey?
Today we continue the breakdown
of the participating teams
starting with my home province.
- La belle province.
Representing Quebec at
this year's tournament
is Les Rapides de Rawdon.
Quebec is home to the
toughest league in hockey,
and make no mistake, Les
Rapides are the toughest.
Pierre-Luc Leblond,
Danick Paquette,
and Steve Bossé.
(Tessa): Leblond fought
the toughest guys in the show
when goons were
still in the game.
(Jay): Paquette's face looks
like it was carved out of wood.
If you think you recognize
Bossé from the YouTube
knockout videos, you
probably recognize him
from the UFC as
well. He's 12-2-0.
Someone else fans may
recognize is the team owner,
Quebec pop icon, Marie-Mai.
The multi-platinum
artist and Queb darling
is also a hockey fan.
One of the things worth
mentioning to fans,
she was one engaged
to JJ Frankie JJ.
With the Sudbury
Blueberry Bulldogs
serving as the host
team and the SOO Hunt
representing northern Ontario
- SOO, Michigan, baby.
- We're left with one
final entry. Representing
southern Ontario,
coming from the
city with the most
Italian Canadians per
capita in the country,
the Vaughan Canadesi.
- Cannoli imagine
there are a few Italians
on the team, Anik.
Actually, Jay, every single one.
Ferrari, Ferrara, Ferraro,
Barbieri, Barberio, Barbara,
DiBenidetti,
Deodato, DiDomenico.
You get the idea.
These guys play the game
hard, fast, and emotional.
(Tessa): So, who we
looking for, Anik?
(Anik): Number 98,
Marco Sylvestri.
(RA): Sly Sylvestri?
(Tessa): What, you know him?
(RA): He used to be in
Boston's system for a while.
(Tessa): And? (RA): He
could pick the prosciutto
outta your teeth with a stick.
(Jay): More of a pancetta guy.
(Tessa): So, he
loves the lumber.
(Anik): Oh, he'll be
the dirtiest player
in the tournament.
- Good matchup for Shoresy.
I'm hearing Shoresy's hurt.
The man doesn't
like to be outdone.
But does anyone really care?
We'll find out soon as
the best teams in Canada
descend on Sudbury today.
(Liam): The best teams in Canada
and the Sudbury Mango Malamutes.
Oh, you're fuckin'
hilarious, Liam.
If things get rough,
just throw one of your
Band-Aids at 'em.
- You too, Cory.
You're so fuckin' funny.
- Squirt 'em with
some Polysporin.
- Like the funniest guys
who ever lived.
- Why aren't you laughing?
Don't worry, Liam, I don't laugh
at your mom's jokes
either and every time,
she's like, "What? I'm funny!"
(Cory laughs) I don't
laugh at your mom's
jokes either, Cory, and
every time she's like,
"Be nice to me!"
Regular season league record
only to blow it in playoffs.
Must sting.
- Little bit, Cor.
- Any regrets?
- My only regret
is not serving my country.
- Oh yeah?
Yeah, and I think
about it every time
I go to war on your mom's ass.
- You're fuckin' awful, Shoresy.
- Fuck you.
- Fuck you, Shoresy.
- Fuck you, Liam.
Better tell your mom
to go get checked out.
I saw Cory's mom last
night. Now my dick feels
like it ate a pack of Halls.
- Clean it up.
Yeah, tell that
to your mom, Cor.
She climbed over my
gearshift last night
to hop on my wiener
and that thing still
smells like shrimp scampi.
- Fuck you, Shoresy.
Fuck you, Liam. Every
time I hit your mom
from the back it sounds like
someone running in flip-flops.
(Cory and Liam): Fuck you!
- Cory, I got your mom
on speed dial and
Liam's mom blocked.
I don't know which one
should be more embarrassed.
(rhythmic rock music)
(music decrescendos)
(music resumes)
(music decrescendos)
- Fuckin' what?
- Captain's meeting.
Yeah, well you
shoulda come to us.
It's fuckin' freezing out there.
- You've got the National
Senior Tournament in two days.
(Goody): Hope I'm warm by then.
The other teams have
already started to show up.
(overlapping chatter)
- We've got a problem.
We've got a problem.
Yeah? What's the
problem, Sanguinet?
You've lost your identity
as hockey players.
After that loss,
you've forgotten
what makes you unique as
athletes of the sport.
Well, Lard Jaysus,
I never see a team
with so many injuries
as this, b'y.
No excuses.
- But
- Hockey players don't
make excuses.
You play for the
logo on the front,
not the name on the back.
You play for your city
and for your teammates.
You win for them. No excuses.
He can barely walk. I
can barely lift my arm.
Never let them know you're hurt.
You're the leaders of
this team and look at you.
One's in a sling,
one's limping around.
You're crying about being cold.
Give your balls a tug.
You're hockey players.
Never let them know you're hurt.
Shoresy,
you're the captain of this team.
Why did we lose to the Yanks?
- No excuses.
- You hurt?
Go 'til you can't go no more.
Then why you all
like (whimpers)
- We didn't earn it.
- Doesn't matter how you get
to the dance, you
just gotta get there.
Yeah, and then what, Sanguinet?
- Then
- Huh?
Find that "fuck you" attitude.
You went down to the Yanks.
Took 'em seven
games, but you lost.
You're right.
Maybe you shouldn't be here.
But you can't look
at the rearview
and the road at the same time.
You're the best team in
the history of the NOSHO.
You're record holders.
24 wins, zero losses.
A perfect season.
So, you've got two options.
You could sit around, cry
about losing to the Yanks
in the playoffs,
or find that "fuck you"
attitude and beat them
on the national stage.
Shoresy, think you can find it?
(door opens)
Is that the runner-ups section?
We'll sit over here then.
(Palmer): Pretty quiet over
there for once, Shoresy.
(Schnurr): All right.
- Havin' a cry?
I get it, bud. Life's
tough. Wanna talk?
(Schnurr): Easy, fellas.
- Where's the fuckin' barmaid?
Yeah, send the barmaid
over to the winners section
when she's done
with the runner-ups.
(rhythmic rock music
playing softly)
Runners-up.
- What?
- Runners-up!
- What's he sayin'?
- It's runners-up.
Not runner-ups.
Dumb fuckin' cunts.
Call it what you want,
bud. You're toss-ins.
You're fuckin' extras.
- Ton o' hockey left, boys.
Ton o' hockey left.
- Fuck you.
- Fuck you.
- Found it.
Shut the fuck up, Delaney,
ya fuckin' coke head.
- What're you gonna do?
- You've done too many
speedballs, bud.
- Piece of shit.
Fuck you, man.
What's that you were saying
about respect again, Miig?
Sometimes you have to demand it.
What're you gonna do?
You're in a sling, Goody.
- Come here and find out.
- What are you gonna do?
You're not gonna
fuckin' do anything.
Won't see much fighting in
this tournament, eh, Nat?
Let's fucking see it.
Think we have a chance
of winning this thing?
- They look ready to me.
- Less talk. Let's go.
- Yeah, fucking dick.
- Are you gonna do something?
(overlapping arguments)
- Bulldog hockey, baby.
- Is that the Sudbury guys?
- Yeah?
Uh-oh.
(hip-hop music)
(Nat): Dream season.
After going almost entirely
winless the year before,
this year, we went undefeated.
24 wins, zero losses.
A perfect season.
And a NOSHO record.
Then things got even better.
We made our bid for the
National Senior Tournament,
and we got it. The best
hockey teams in Canada
are coming here to play
for the national title
against you, in Sudbury.
Let's set the fuckin' tone!
After our perfect
regular season,
it appeared the table was set.
We would win the NOSHO
playoffs and then move on
to the National
Senior Tournament.
But the playoffs
didn't go as planned.
("Blues Run the Game"
by Laura Marling)
Catch a boat to
England, baby ♪
Maybe to Spain ♪
Wherever I have gone ♪
Wherever I've been and gone ♪
Wherever I have gone ♪
The blues run the game ♪
Send out for whiskey, baby ♪
Send out for gin ♪
Me and room service, honey ♪
Me and room service, mama ♪
Me and room service ♪
We are living a life of sin ♪
When I'm not sleeping, honey ♪
You are on my mind ♪
When I'm not sleeping, honey ♪
I ain't sleeping, mama ♪
When I ain't sleeping ♪
You know you'll
find me crying ♪
(Shoresy wails indistinctly)
Fuck's sake.
Like, it's so dumb.
(Shoresy sobbing)
What a fuckin' bunch of losers.
(footsteps thud approaching)
(freezer door slams)
What can we say boys?
Nothing worse than
losing to the Yanks.
- In our own fuckin' barn.
- Especially in our own barn.
(Hitch): I don't know what
to say for the best, b'ys.
(speaking French)
Maybe there ain't no best to it.
But just because we lost
doesn't mean there shouldn't
be a game stick.
Goody, you played through
a separated shoulder.
Dolo, foot fracture.
Never seen a team so hurt
as this by the Lard Jaysus.
Fish, you came back
from a skate laceration
to the neck.
Shoresy. (Shoresy sobs)
You came back from a
concussion in the first round.
And you played through a
torn groin and a hip pointer.
What happens with a hip pointer?
Can't push when you shit.
You were the leader
this team needed.
Shoresy,
game stick goes to you, my man.
(players clap)
Be proud, Shoresy.
Chin up, buddy.
Lard Jaysus, boys,
we nearly had 'em!
(Shoresy wails)
- What is it, my dude?
- I can't.
I brought you guys
in because everybody
was acting like bitches.
And now you're all
acting like bitches, too.
- Okay, that's unfair, Shoresy.
- Just shut the fuck up,
Michaels.
- We just lost
to the Yanks. You're all
acting like you wanna eat
each other's pussies.
Like you're opening a second
bottle of wine with
your gal pal.
- My son
I don't wanna fuckin'
lift my head right now
'cause you're probably all
giving each other ski poles.
Ski poles?
Come on, Shoresy, say
something positive.
(Shoresy): Fuckin'
Sommerfeld's dog mom
wasn't lickin' her lips at me
all fuckin' night for once.
- Okay.
- Fuckin' Briggsy's fat sister
isn't looking as ugly as when she
tried to fuck me two years ago.
- Shoresy.
- Fuckin' Michaels' ex-sweetie
flashed me her bird and I
thought it as an accident,
but now I don't think it was.
- Hey!
What about Phillips? He
had the game of his life.
- Who?
- Phillips.
- That's Phillips.
- No, it isn't.
- Who do you think that is?
- I don't fuckin' know.
- Shoresy, the boys are hurt.
- It's fuckin' hockey!
You go 'til you
can't go no more.
Fuck! (hockey sticks
clatter loudly)
(Sanguinet exhales)
- Let's get drunk.
- Wait, how drunk?
Like NOSHO record party drunk?
(pulsing club music)
I don't think we should
get that drunk again.
It's been long enough. You
should go say something.
(Nat): This is
- Unfortunate?
Pathetic?
A real cunt.
We're hosting the National
Senior Tournament in a week.
We're beat up from the feet up.
Seven days rest
can go a long way.
We're supposed to be there
because we're the best team.
Now we're only there
'cause we're the host team.
So, the host team
gets in automatically.
Look at it as good fortune.
- We're the team that gets
in on a formality.
- We're throw-ins.
Doesn't matter how
you get to the dance,
you just gotta get there.
- We're filler.
- Freeloaders.
- Nat.
When they see the Sudbury guys,
you think anyone's gonna
look at them and say,
"Uh-oh." Won't get any respect.
Sometimes you have to demand it.
Yo, last year we
wanted to win one game.
This year, we won them all.
Now we have a chance to win
the whole country. Cash in.
We've got a week to get
these guys over this loss
and refocused for the
National Senior Tournament.
We've gotta get 'em healed.
Thank fuck there won't
be much fighting.
I dunno. There may be a
national title on the line,
but it's still senior
whale shit hockey.
Seriously. Nat, at least
go check on Shoresy.
Yeah, ask him when he's
gonna start chipping in
on the scoresheet.
- He always finds
a way to contribute. (Miig):
He can't handle losing.
Show me someone who
can handle losing
and I'll show you a loser.
Let's get these guys drunk.
Wait how drunk?
Yeah. NOSHO record
party drunk?
(pulsing club music)
I don't think they should
get that drunk again.
(downtempo lounge music)
(SOO Hunt players whooping)
Let's go boys! Fill 'er
up, barmaid! Come on!
You boys wanna give it a hoist?
Something to remind you
of the good old days?
Goody couldn't if he wanted to.
All right, that's enough.
Won't let ya drink out of it,
but why don't ya
come give it a kiss?
- Drink your beer.
- I'll go get the bouncers.
- They don't need them.
- Come on over, boys.
Give it a kiss.
- Let's keep it classy.
Can't wait to rip a
snooter off this thing.
Come on! Kiss it!
Fuckin' pussies.
(Delaney): The runner-ups!
(SOO Hunt players cheer)
What's that you were saying
about respect again, Miig?
- Sometimes you have to
- It's pathetic.
What's wrong with them?
(Shoresy): I'm fuckin' hurt!
Oh, I'm fuckin' real hurt.
- Your head?
- No.
- Your hand?
- No.
My heart.
- Are you hurt,
or are you injured?
- We're the fuckin'
Teenage Mutant Injured Turtles.
You gotta leave it
behind you, my guy.
Game seven. In our barn.
Refocus.
We're going to the
National Senior Tournament.
Yeah, as fuckin'
honorable mentions.
(Big Sexy): Tit fucker.
- As runner-ups.
- Runners-up.
- As the guys who didn't
earn it. It's embarrassing.
(Hitch): Ya needs
a break, me son.
After that hit you took
in the first round,
you should be out four
to six weeks, old man.
Four to six?
Just 'cause I can't
push when I shit,
you think it's four to
six? (Goody): Settle down.
- What are you even doing?
- Lookin' at girls
on the internet.
(Sanguinet): Why?
- Had a sec.
- Goody's hurt worse than me.
Goody's not hurt so
bad as what you are.
- He's got his arm in a sling.
- It's a holster.
- Goody's four to six.
- Just 'cause I have my arm
in this, you think
it's four to six?
Dolo's hurt worse than Goody is.
Takes ya 20 minutes to
get from the crapper
to the couch, old man.
Doesn't matter. We're all
fuckin' losers anyway.
(Hitch): Never see a team
with so many injuries as this,
b'ys, by the Lard Jaysus.
We're the tag alongs
of the tournament.
(door slams, Big Sexy squawks)
Oh, nice work, Sanguinet.
Now you've upset Big Sexy.
You wanna find out
who's the most hurt?
- Go easy, Big Sex.
- Come where we're to.
We has a walking competition.
- A walking competition?
You says you're not hurt
so bad as what he is.
- Get control of your bird.
- He says he's not hurt
so bad as what you is.
- You talk like
a fuckin' idiot, eh?
And you're hurt more bad
So, come on over where we're to.
We has a walking competition
and we finds out
who's the most hurt.
Don't walk out on me, old man!
(Shoresy): I'm takin'
care of my bird!
(Nat): Who do you
think is the most hurt?
Shoresy really got his bell
rung in the first round.
He was a fuckin' ghost
the second round.
- He got trucked.
- Maybe it'll make him
less stubborn.
- Won't make him less stupid.
We ready?
- We're ready.
Let's get started.
(Shoresy): Well, can
I premise it by saying
something first?
- Premise?
- Huh?
- What do you mean, premise?
Well, I wanna
Nutella's junk, eh?
Preface.
If you wanna ruin a
good piece of toast.
Fer how do you
Well, you wants to say something
before you walks, right?
I was gonna say a
few words, yeah.
Okay, well ya wants
to preface it.
So I meant to say
preface but I said premise?
- That's what ya did, b'y.
- Oh, my God.
What an idiot, eh?
- Good thing no chick saw that.
- Settle down.
- I dies at ya, b'y.
- Well, I guess
I'm going to preface my walk
by saying, and I'm sure you've
all noticed this before,
I have one leg shorter
than the other.
- By how much?
- By about two inches.
Two inches?
Inch and a half,
two inches, yeah.
No, b'y. Never
knew that, old man.
Well, I try not to
make a big deal of it.
Try not to let it get
in my way. Get me down.
But if you notice something in
my walk, it's probably that.
I don't have to talk while I'm
doing it or anything, right?
- No, b'y.
- Go.
You want me to rush you
when you're walking?
Let's have a little
etiquette in here, boys.
A little sportsmanship
here, now.
(Shoresy sniffs)
(Hitch): K, now come
back where we're to.
See, it's just a little
slower than ordinary.
But that's probably the leg,
which we've established.
Otherwise, there's really
nothing out of the ordinary.
Yeah, so
- Four to six.
Just 'cause I can't
push when I shit?
You walk like you
had your shit pushed.
B'y, I knew you'd be
lookin' four to six but
Who's up next?
I didn't think you'd be
lookin' that four to six.
Could we just keep
this moving, please?
(Miig): Yes. Teams
for this year's
National Senior
Tournament are set.
- Dynamite.
- Against all odds,
we'll have teams from
all over Turtle Island
representing western
Canada, eastern Canada,
Quebec, northern Ontario,
southern Ontario, and us.
Six whole teams.
Why aren't the other
provinces sending teams?
Because it's senior
whale shit hockey.
Up first, representing
western Canada,
from the province of Alberta,
home of Treaties 6, 7, and 8,
the Brooks Barrelmen.
From the heart of
cowmen country Canada,
for these guys, it's hockey
all winter, rodeo all summer.
They're tie-down
ropers, steer wrestlers,
and of course, bull
and bronco riders.
You've gotta be
certifiable for that sport.
Stupid tough.
According to the scouting
report, they kinda are.
- Tough?
- Stupid.
- How stupid?
- Time will tell.
If we're talking
notable players,
we're talking the Friesen
twins, AKA the Freezer Twins.
- Why Freezer?
- Because they're built
like large appliances.
(Miig): These guys played
Team Canada rugby
for four years.
So, needless to say,
they like to hit.
(crowd jeers)
Keep your head up
around these guys
or you know what'll happen.
(Shoresy): Four to six!
I'll be the judge of that,
me son. Dolo, you're up.
Hold on. You ready?
Little sportsmanship
in here, eh?
- Sorry, b'y.
- Let's let Dolo get focused
for his walk here, boys. A
little quiet in here now.
(Dolo inhales deeply)
(chill hip-hop music playing)
(Dolo exhales deeply)
Well, who's lookin'
four to six now?
He's lookin' pretty four to six.
(Shoresy): Mm-hmm.
You can't really
walk at all, bro.
Hard to believe he's been
doing it his whole life.
What's good.
- He's more four to six
than Shoresy.
- B'ys, we still don't really
know who's the four to sixiest.
(Nat): Okay, who's next?
Representing eastern Canada,
from Prince Edward Island,
the Charlottetown Reds.
PEI, Mi'kmaq territory.
Not unlike folks
from Newfoundland,
Prince Edward Islanders
have some unique speech.
- Example?
- Ever seen the Prince Edward
Island Encyclopedia on YouTube?
- What's goin' on?
I'll fuckin' flatten
ya, young buck.
I'm gonna come to your house
and slam your fuckin' cupboards.
- Nice kit bag there, big nuts.
- I'll beat you like you're
on a fishin' trip
with your father.
Easy there, George Clooney.
Where'd the cows die?
Who the fuck are you?
(speaking gibberish)
- Noted.
- Most of these guys
are commercial fishermen.
Out on the Atlantic
for days on end
fishing for herring,
mackerel, crab.
They know hard work.
But a handful of them
are owners-operators
of what many call the
best seafood shack
on Prince Edward Island.
Serving up fresh shucked
oysters, seafood chowder,
and their signature
lobster rolls.
(Nat): I'm hungry.
So, who are we watching for?
(Ziig): These guys play as
a unit. No one-man shows.
Beware, they're pedal to
the rug for a full sixty.
Hard fuckin' workers.
But a standout in another sense
would be the gorgeous
Gord Gallant.
This guy makes panty soup.
(Miig): Ew. (Ziig):
He soaks Uggs.
(Nat): Entering a
dink phase, eh, Ziig?
If you can resist him,
you're doing well.
- Up to the task?
- Probably just another
Instagram doll and
real-life donkey.
When was the last time
you dated a hockey player?
You don't date sluts.
You just take 'em down.
- Anything else?
- Aside from all of that,
the word on these guys is that
they're just really nice.
Nice?
Nice.
(Shoresy): Well,
that's fuckin' nice.
- Holy!
- Agreed.
- So dumb.
- You can walk more good
than Dolo, but he's
playin' better.
Well, you gotta find
a way to contribute.
Sanger, sit down.
Shut the fuck up.
- What're you guys doin'?
- Walking competition.
- Walking competition?
- To find out who's hurt
more bad than who. Now,
you're up, old man.
(chill hip-hop music playing)
(Shoresy): Oh, fuck.
Think he'd be that good?
- At walking?
- Yep.
(Hitch): No.
- Me neither.
(Shoresy): Me neither.
Now come back where
we're to, me son.
Yep. Yep, he's good.
He walks good.
I ain't never seen anybody
walk so good as that.
No, me neither.
(Shoresy): I know. I know.
- Sanguinet?
- No, no, no.
He doesn't get to just
waltz in here and say
who walks good.
That's good walking,
Goody. Congratulations.
You're the least four to six.
Well, Dolo, Hitch,
we're runner-ups again.
- Runners-up.
- Yep.
Lost the NOSHO Cup. Now we
lost the walking competition.
May as well be
eatin' solo paninis.
- Why?
- We're fuckin' losers.
Never seen a team
with so many injuries
as this, b'ys, by
the Lard Jaysus.
Think anyone's gonna see the
Bulldogs and say "Uh-oh"?
No fuckin' way. (door slams)
(Big Sexy squawks)
Want me to come over
to your house, slam
your fuckin' doors?
(energetic rock music)
Anik Archambault here,
welcoming you back to another
edition of Questionable
Call brought to you
by BROdude Energy.
With me, as always,
are panelists Jay
Onrait, Tessa Bonhomme,
and the man they call RA.
Mesdames and messieurs,
as you are well aware,
BROdude Energy has been granted
the exclusive
broadcasting rights
of the National Senior
Hockey Tournament
in Sudbury, Ontario.
Can only imagine the
cutthroat competition
for that contract, Anik.
- Bet it was eye popping.
Remember when we used
to cover real hockey?
Today we continue the breakdown
of the participating teams
starting with my home province.
- La belle province.
Representing Quebec at
this year's tournament
is Les Rapides de Rawdon.
Quebec is home to the
toughest league in hockey,
and make no mistake, Les
Rapides are the toughest.
Pierre-Luc Leblond,
Danick Paquette,
and Steve Bossé.
(Tessa): Leblond fought
the toughest guys in the show
when goons were
still in the game.
(Jay): Paquette's face looks
like it was carved out of wood.
If you think you recognize
Bossé from the YouTube
knockout videos, you
probably recognize him
from the UFC as
well. He's 12-2-0.
Someone else fans may
recognize is the team owner,
Quebec pop icon, Marie-Mai.
The multi-platinum
artist and Queb darling
is also a hockey fan.
One of the things worth
mentioning to fans,
she was one engaged
to JJ Frankie JJ.
With the Sudbury
Blueberry Bulldogs
serving as the host
team and the SOO Hunt
representing northern Ontario
- SOO, Michigan, baby.
- We're left with one
final entry. Representing
southern Ontario,
coming from the
city with the most
Italian Canadians per
capita in the country,
the Vaughan Canadesi.
- Cannoli imagine
there are a few Italians
on the team, Anik.
Actually, Jay, every single one.
Ferrari, Ferrara, Ferraro,
Barbieri, Barberio, Barbara,
DiBenidetti,
Deodato, DiDomenico.
You get the idea.
These guys play the game
hard, fast, and emotional.
(Tessa): So, who we
looking for, Anik?
(Anik): Number 98,
Marco Sylvestri.
(RA): Sly Sylvestri?
(Tessa): What, you know him?
(RA): He used to be in
Boston's system for a while.
(Tessa): And? (RA): He
could pick the prosciutto
outta your teeth with a stick.
(Jay): More of a pancetta guy.
(Tessa): So, he
loves the lumber.
(Anik): Oh, he'll be
the dirtiest player
in the tournament.
- Good matchup for Shoresy.
I'm hearing Shoresy's hurt.
The man doesn't
like to be outdone.
But does anyone really care?
We'll find out soon as
the best teams in Canada
descend on Sudbury today.
(Liam): The best teams in Canada
and the Sudbury Mango Malamutes.
Oh, you're fuckin'
hilarious, Liam.
If things get rough,
just throw one of your
Band-Aids at 'em.
- You too, Cory.
You're so fuckin' funny.
- Squirt 'em with
some Polysporin.
- Like the funniest guys
who ever lived.
- Why aren't you laughing?
Don't worry, Liam, I don't laugh
at your mom's jokes
either and every time,
she's like, "What? I'm funny!"
(Cory laughs) I don't
laugh at your mom's
jokes either, Cory, and
every time she's like,
"Be nice to me!"
Regular season league record
only to blow it in playoffs.
Must sting.
- Little bit, Cor.
- Any regrets?
- My only regret
is not serving my country.
- Oh yeah?
Yeah, and I think
about it every time
I go to war on your mom's ass.
- You're fuckin' awful, Shoresy.
- Fuck you.
- Fuck you, Shoresy.
- Fuck you, Liam.
Better tell your mom
to go get checked out.
I saw Cory's mom last
night. Now my dick feels
like it ate a pack of Halls.
- Clean it up.
Yeah, tell that
to your mom, Cor.
She climbed over my
gearshift last night
to hop on my wiener
and that thing still
smells like shrimp scampi.
- Fuck you, Shoresy.
Fuck you, Liam. Every
time I hit your mom
from the back it sounds like
someone running in flip-flops.
(Cory and Liam): Fuck you!
- Cory, I got your mom
on speed dial and
Liam's mom blocked.
I don't know which one
should be more embarrassed.
(rhythmic rock music)
(music decrescendos)
(music resumes)
(music decrescendos)
- Fuckin' what?
- Captain's meeting.
Yeah, well you
shoulda come to us.
It's fuckin' freezing out there.
- You've got the National
Senior Tournament in two days.
(Goody): Hope I'm warm by then.
The other teams have
already started to show up.
(overlapping chatter)
- We've got a problem.
We've got a problem.
Yeah? What's the
problem, Sanguinet?
You've lost your identity
as hockey players.
After that loss,
you've forgotten
what makes you unique as
athletes of the sport.
Well, Lard Jaysus,
I never see a team
with so many injuries
as this, b'y.
No excuses.
- But
- Hockey players don't
make excuses.
You play for the
logo on the front,
not the name on the back.
You play for your city
and for your teammates.
You win for them. No excuses.
He can barely walk. I
can barely lift my arm.
Never let them know you're hurt.
You're the leaders of
this team and look at you.
One's in a sling,
one's limping around.
You're crying about being cold.
Give your balls a tug.
You're hockey players.
Never let them know you're hurt.
Shoresy,
you're the captain of this team.
Why did we lose to the Yanks?
- No excuses.
- You hurt?
Go 'til you can't go no more.
Then why you all
like (whimpers)
- We didn't earn it.
- Doesn't matter how you get
to the dance, you
just gotta get there.
Yeah, and then what, Sanguinet?
- Then
- Huh?
Find that "fuck you" attitude.
You went down to the Yanks.
Took 'em seven
games, but you lost.
You're right.
Maybe you shouldn't be here.
But you can't look
at the rearview
and the road at the same time.
You're the best team in
the history of the NOSHO.
You're record holders.
24 wins, zero losses.
A perfect season.
So, you've got two options.
You could sit around, cry
about losing to the Yanks
in the playoffs,
or find that "fuck you"
attitude and beat them
on the national stage.
Shoresy, think you can find it?
(door opens)
Is that the runner-ups section?
We'll sit over here then.
(Palmer): Pretty quiet over
there for once, Shoresy.
(Schnurr): All right.
- Havin' a cry?
I get it, bud. Life's
tough. Wanna talk?
(Schnurr): Easy, fellas.
- Where's the fuckin' barmaid?
Yeah, send the barmaid
over to the winners section
when she's done
with the runner-ups.
(rhythmic rock music
playing softly)
Runners-up.
- What?
- Runners-up!
- What's he sayin'?
- It's runners-up.
Not runner-ups.
Dumb fuckin' cunts.
Call it what you want,
bud. You're toss-ins.
You're fuckin' extras.
- Ton o' hockey left, boys.
Ton o' hockey left.
- Fuck you.
- Fuck you.
- Found it.
Shut the fuck up, Delaney,
ya fuckin' coke head.
- What're you gonna do?
- You've done too many
speedballs, bud.
- Piece of shit.
Fuck you, man.
What's that you were saying
about respect again, Miig?
Sometimes you have to demand it.
What're you gonna do?
You're in a sling, Goody.
- Come here and find out.
- What are you gonna do?
You're not gonna
fuckin' do anything.
Won't see much fighting in
this tournament, eh, Nat?
Let's fucking see it.
Think we have a chance
of winning this thing?
- They look ready to me.
- Less talk. Let's go.
- Yeah, fucking dick.
- Are you gonna do something?
(overlapping arguments)
- Bulldog hockey, baby.
- Is that the Sudbury guys?
- Yeah?
Uh-oh.
(hip-hop music)