Goon: Last of the Enforcers Page #5

- AAAAAH!

- AAAAAH!

(blows whistle) (electronic music)

(crowd cheering)

- Oh, jeez! Oh, jeez! Oh, jeez!

- AH!

- Jesus Christ on a bike!

(fighting exertions)

- F*** you, Glatt!

- The f*** are we doing here?

- I don't know, I went to f***ing Princeton.

- You look like Super Mario.

Hey, Andrew.

- My f***, can he still bang.

(electronic music) (fighting exertions)

- Here, big guy. What are you,

like, f***ing 15 years old?

- AAAAH!

- (crowd chanting): Ross! Ross!

- I think he had enough. (Ross grunting)

Let me go. Let me go.

I'm the ref, let me go!

- F*** it!

- Ugh!

(Doug panting)

- (spectator):
Woohoo! Get out of here!

- (spectator):
You're one

tough motherf***er, Dougie!

(Ross sighing) (crowd cheering)

- Hey, kid.

- Hi, sir.

You all right? (Ross chuckling)

(Ross snorting)

- Yeah.

I've been better.

- (crowd):
Fight! Fight! Fight!

- (Ross):
Ah, f***.

- (crowd):
Fight! Fight! Fight!

Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!

- Let's not reinvent the wheel here, eh?

- (crowd):
Thug! Thug! Thug! Thug! Thug!

Thug! Thug! Thug! Thug! Thug!

- Wait, wait.

(crowd sighing) Got you, buddy.

I think we should leave. (crowd booing)

I got you.

(cracking sound)

- Oh!

That was a f***ing sh*t show, eh?

Not exactly playing hockey, is it?

Thanks, kid.

You had my back out there.

I owe ya. (Ross coughing)

- Maybe I should take you to the doctor.

- What for?

So he can tell me I got

post-concussion syndrome?

One more bad hit, and then you're done?

It's not f***ing soccer, Dougie.

Been hearing that sh*t for a decade now.

- Doesn't sound very good.

- You looked mean out there, kiddo.

Young Anders better watch his ass.

(Petrov laughing)

- Lead these guys! Lead these guys!

F***, what would a leader do?

What would a f***ing leader do

right now? Alright! Alright! Listen up!

Captain speaking! Captain time!

Off your f***ing phone, Laflamme! Get off!

- (whispering):
Turn it off.

- You turn the f***ing puck

over in the neutral zone one

more time, and I'll teach you

a f***ing lesson you'll

never forget. Got it?

- The f*** you just said?

- And you KHL-garbage-

bullshit-Ukrainian-

f***-hockey-league-

Chernobyl-disaster

fucks, you turn that f***ing

puck over one more time,

and I'll f***ing kill both of you! And you!

- Yeah?

- Hey, f***, I don't even know, f*** you!

F*** you!

- Hey!

Be nice.

What?

Be...

nice.

(Anders roaring) (Stevenson screaming)

- WHOOO! WHOOOO! F*** yeah!

That's what I'm talking about! Sports!

You miss f***ing Doug Glatt? You

think he gives two f***ing shits

about you guys? I care! I f***ing care!

We're gonna do this together!

Highlanders on three!

(Petrov laughing) One, two, three,

Highlanders! My line starts.

See? He gets it. He f***ing gets it!

He smiles! He f***ing gets it!

F***! No! No more f***ing candies!

What the f***! Holy sh*t!

(Petrov laughing)

(techno music) (crowd cheering)

- (McCauley):
Highlanders

lead Newark 1-nothing thanks

to a goal by Anders Cain.

Anders Cain wants

it badly; he shoved

his own teammate aside.

Now, the captain waits.

Cain takes a good look up the ice.

Down at the other end

is Laflamme hovering

in the neutral zone. Cain works it

up, Laflamme well ahead. No, no, no!

- (McCauley):
In a suicide pass,

Laflamme is decked by Balako!

- F***!

- F***ing c*nt!

- (McCauley):
Down on the ice is

Laflamme. He's spitting blood.

Here's Cain and Stevenson

going at the goal!

Anders Cain absolutely...

- What are you doing?!

- (McCauley):
levels the

Newark goalie and Stevenson.

- F*** me!

- Now Cain draws a crowd.

Cain decks one, decks two.

And Cain stood up to the world.

- Your kid finally got suspended, OK?

He's destroying this team.

- What's that?

You heard me, you little sh*t.

- Tread lightly, Ron.

- Hyrum, did you not see

the same f***ing hockey game

that I saw last night?

Did you see that game?

- Yeah, I did. I saw compete.

It was misdirected, but I saw compete.

- The dressing room's in

the shitter. It's tighter

than a nun's c*nt in

there. There's no chatter;

the boys feel like they're

on the chopping block.

- They... they need someone

to pull 'em together.

And time after time after time,

he's proven he's not the f***ing guy.

- Oh, what? So it's my fault the f***ing

amateur-hour limp-dick...

- Anders!

What about Doug?

- Doug, Doug?!

- Maybe I was wrong about him.

I saw him at the sh*t show the

other night. He looked mean.

- What? Really? - (Hyrum): Yeah.

- We thought he was done.

- Yeah, 'cause I f***ing made him done.

- Alright. Alright. Well then,

maybe we bring him back to practice, eh?

And we'll give him a shot,

see if he's got what it takes.

But we saw what he did to him;

so what's that dressing room

gonna look like with him and Glatt in it?

- I think we should find out.

- F*** me!

- F*** you then, 'cause we're doing it.

(car honking) (rock music)

(indistinct chatter)

- Baby, it's nice to have you here

Right now

Baby, it's nice to feel you near

- Oh, my Lordy! It's Doug!

- Jesus, Stevie, you fell in the garbage.

- (Stevenson):
I'm OK.

- Welcome back, Dougie.

- Welcome home, Dougie.

- Welcome home, Doug.

- Thanks, bud.

- Number 69.

Now we're talking.

- F***ing right.

- OK, boys.

This is a big day. First

off, we're gonna welcome back

Dougie. We're gonna see if

he's fit enough to play. Right?

(applause and cheering)

- F***ing right! - Good luck, bud.

- Thank you, guys.

I'm so happy to be back

here and have a chance to...

to... be back here?

- (whispering):
It's good. OK!

I'm so f***ing excited to tell you this.

Favourite part of the practice for me:

puke time, suicides.

- Let's give her.

- Lace 'em up.

- Hand of iron.

- Let's go, boys!

- Jew of iron.

- Sorry, I smell like garbage.

- Ha!

- See you out there.

- So glad to see you,

man. I totally thought

you were transitioning.

- You're not home.

Your f***ing jersey, you

idiot. you're not home.

Shouldn't have come back, Doug.

Shouldn't have come back...

- They gave you my C.

- I think you gave me your C, bud.

- Captain doesn't cheap shot...

Doesn't try to end careers.

- You think you're a hockey

player? That's f***ing funny.

(Anders laughing) (sinister music)

See, Doug... I just do

whatever my team needs me to do.

See you out there, bud.

- Hmm.

- You look good. Your face looks better.

- OK, lads. Some of "youse"

have a little rust. (Anders sniffling)

We're gonna work some of that

rust off right f***ing now.

OK? We're gonna play some shutdown hockey.

- Let's keep it clean, fellas.

You're all on the same team here.

- OK? (clanking)

(rock music) Jesus f***ing Christ.

- Don't mind me.

- We won't. Let's go!

- Let's go around, boys.

The pattern. Good job.

- Move your feet, boys! Move your feet!

- Don't get poked!

- MOVE IT!

- Keep your head up! (indistinct shouting)

- F*** off! Dammit! F*** it!

- Whoo!

- Come on, man!

(rock music)

- Nice, Dougie.

- Good job!

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