Beerfest

You've got spunk, Wolfhouse.

I'll give you that.

I don't got room in my

pocket for more of your money.

I got a little spunk for you.

You couldn't hit your own ball bag

with your own wrinkled cock.

Chance.

Jesus, Mary and Joseph.

You play rim rules?

Doesn't everybody?

Yeah, the sh*t-stabbers like you.

Hold on there, girlfriend.

You're gonna chance...

...you're gonna have to earn it.

Oh, no. No way.

Forget about it.

I'm out of here. Where's my...?

Hey. You said you wanted to chance,

now take a chance.

All right, all right.

Son of a b*tch!

Up yours, Johnny Cash.

Okay. Grab him, boys.

You weren't trying to play me for

a fool, were you, Wolfhouse?

Beginner's luck.

You don't come into my place of business

and take my money like that.

Now, what I should do is

beat seven shades of sh*t out of you.

- But I'll teach you something somebody...

- Hey!

What's going on down here?

Todd, welcome home!

I'm just having some fun with your

younger, dumber brother.

Might not be the best time.

Everyone's waiting.

Oh, of course.

Padre?

I'll come back for the rest.

Great Gam Gam. I'm so sorry.

My friends...

...as we gather today to mourn

the passing of Johan Wolfhouse...

...what can I say that

Johan can't say for himself?

Hello, all.

If you are watching this,

then I have croaked.

Now I will never know what happens on

The Young and the Restless.

- He loved that show.

- But seriously, I wanted to thank you all...

...for what you have added to

my long and happy life.

Most of all, my mother.

Mother, I always knew

you would outlive me.

I loved you.

Prosit.

Todd, Jan,

my smart and talented grandsons...

...take good care of the restaurant.

It is the last piece of your heritage.

And don't worry,

someone will be watching over you.

Popo!

- Hey. It's Popo.

- Popo was given to me...

...by my father on his deathbed.

Prosit!

And finally, to me.

Looking good down there.

Say good night, Popo.

Good night, Popo.

For hundreds of years,

it has been a Wolfhouse tradition...

...to spread the ashes of

our loved ones in Munich.

I am too old.

I want you boys to go to Germany...

...and carry out this tradition

for your grandfather.

Sure, it would be an honor for us,

Great Gam Gam. When?

Well, you must leave immediately.

The tradition is to spread the ashes...

...during the festival

on the Theresienwiese.

There you will meet

a Mr. Schniedelwichsen.

He will take you to

the family resting place.

The festival begins this week.

The festival of the what-what?

Oh, boys, you know this festival

as Oktoberfest.

We're in.

We really gotta find this Schniedelwichsen

and spread Grandpa's ashes.

He's supposed to meet us here.

So there's nothing we can do

but hang out and wait. Right, Grandpa?

Come on, guys.

Are you making fun of us, mate?

What? No.

We're singing the beloved

drinking songs of our country...

...and you sing us

that bloody jingo jango?

I reckon you're taking

the piss out of Oktoberfest.

We're just singing.

What do you think, mate?

I think we should f***ing brain them.

Hey, we love Oktober...

Hot cheese soup!

Hot cheese so...!

Come on.

This is the Fruleins Gone Wild!

Just kiss each other, ja?

Helmut, my God, are you okay?

Oh, strewth. They hit the little kid!

Let's get the bastards!

So this is Oktoberfest.

Wolfhouse?

Yeah.

I am Mr. Schniedelwichsen.

- Hi!

- Let's go.

Gam Gam said you'd meet us here.

There's some crazy...

- Gotcha.

- Hey!

- He's got me!

- He's gone crazy dingo.

Make fast! Make very fast!

Split! Split!

Where are we going,

Mr. Spiedelspackel?

Schniedelwichsen. Come.

Halt. See, we're here.

Johan?

The ashes.

We left them back at that tent.

We gotta go get our grandfather's ashes.

Come. Come now.

We in the right neighborhood?

Oh, hello, blondie.

You care for a dance?

Jan? Jan?

Leave my brother alone.

I miss you!

The password!

Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink!

They're playing Quarters!

Hey, Beer Pong!

Upside-down Chugs!

Come! Come in here.

I'd bugger her

for a game of soldiers, huh?

Hello. Pim Scutney.

This here's me mate, Rog Gobshire.

Team England.

I am Jan Wolfhouse and

this is my brother, Todd Wolfhouse.

And what is this?

Beerfest, innit!

Is this part of Oktoberfest?

Oktoberfest is for tossers and

sheep-shaggers.

Beerfest is our lives.

The ultimate test of

a beer-gamer's mettle!

- Where's the American team?

- Yeah.

- That's worth a squirt, innit?

- What?

Excuse me, guys.

Please vomit in proper receptacles!

Wait a second.

Look at those urns over there.

They look just like Grandpa's.

That's why Schniedelwasher

brought us here.

We're supposed to put Grandpa's urn

up there with those.

We gotta go back and get it.

You go. I'm never leaving this place.

Das Boot! Das Boot! Das Boot! Das Boot!

Hello, guvnor!

We got ourselves a tie.

You see them blokes in the knickers?

That's the German team, the champs.

Their family owns

the oldest brewery in Bavaria.

They're regular diamond geezers,

they are, right?

Why does the last guy

chug out of a shoe?

That's no shoe!

That's Das Boot!

And she's a cruel old mistress, she is.

Drink up, Hansel!

Wow, they're fast!

Das Boot!

Das Boot! Das Boot!

Schniedelspanker!

Von Wolfhausen. Wolfhouse.

Your last name's von Wolfhausen?

Get the f*** out of here. So is ours!

Wolfhouse.

We're cousins?

Oh, this just gets better and better!

We must be related through

our grandfather, Johan von Wolfhausen.

Why are you taking him?

Where's he going?

We kind of need to stick close.

- He is of no concern to you.

- But he was just walking us through. He...

You do not speak of Beerfest

outside of Beerfest!

You do not bring outsiders to Beerfest.

But our grandfather

was Johan von Wolf...

Your grandfather

was no von Wolfhausen.

Your grandfather was a thieving

bastard stable boy.

- What did you say?

- Baron Ludwig von Wolfhausen...

...our great-grandfather, the most

legendary brewmeister in all Deutschland.

He perfected the von Wolfhausen

beer recipe.

It was the greatest beer in all the world.

When Ludwig died, your grandfather stole

the only copy of the recipe created.

Hold on a second.

Our grandfather didn't brew beer.

He had this little sausage house

in Colorado. He couldn't...

He could und he did.

He stole our recipe und fled Germany

with his mother...

...a common Bavarian...

What's the English word I'm looking for?

Whore.

Gam Gam a whore?

Obviously there's

a translation problem here.

Hooker. Prostitute. Slut for money.

- Now you're crossing the line.

- No, you are crossing the line! He stole it!

Und now, instead of having Deutschland's

greatest beer, we merely have fourth-best.

Ja, we are not your cousins.

You are the offspring of the bastard son

of some whore!

- Don't call Gam Gam a whore! She's not!

- Punch me! Do it!

Ja, you big tough guy.

Kill me, come on.

Do it now! Kill me.

What are you waiting for?

Typical Americans. This is why

we don't allow you in our Beerfest.

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