Goon Page #5

- Hey!

- Okay, the sauce.

Water down the sauce.

So could we get anything

for this on eBay?

I don't think so. No, I wanted to give it to

Mom and Dad, if they wanted it.

Seeing it's just...

Here.

Douglas, it's good to see that you're

having fun with this, you know, hobby.

It's not a hobby, it's my job.

I'm a hockey player.

Have you thought

about the head injuries

that come with such a violent sport,

the concussions?

- How long do you think you can do it?

- Mom...

It's an infantile way for a man to spend

his adult years.

- No, it isn't.

- You can do anything.

- No, I couldn't.

- You could teach.

I can't, okay?

I can't because I'm stupid. I'm stupid.

- Doug, you're not that stupid.

- I am.

I'm stupid. You're gay.

I'm stupid, he's gay.

- Stupid, gay.

- We get it.

- Stupid, gay.

- Okay.

You have one stupid son

and a gay son.

- Oh, God.

- For once in my life,

I'm a part of something.

I get to wear a uniform that doesn't have

"Security" on it.

Kids buy it and they wear it

and it's got our name on it.

For whatever reason you guys think that

I can be smart enough to be a doctor.

I have fist smarts.

I can fight. I'm strong.

I could protect people.

That's who I am, it's what I do,

and you should be proud of me.

We should be proud of you?

They call you Thug, for Christ's sake.

It might as well say "Security"

on the back of your sweater. Excuse me.

- Doug, I am proud of you.

- Thanks, buddy.

I am going to go

with Mom and Dad, okay?

They got my passport.

Look, no disrespect intended

but honestly? F*** your parents

if they don't f***ing appreciate you.

I mean, look at you.

You're a f***ing beast.

You're like the f***ing Hebrew

Dolph Lundgren.

You don't get what I'm saying, do you?

Watching you tonight was like watching

a bunch of f***ing birds flying in a V.

It was instinct, purpose...

It was like you were doing

what you were born to do.

I mean, Jesus Christ, Doug,

look at your f***ing fist.

It's the size of my Uncle Murphy's

prostate.

- Let's get hammered.

- Let's get so f***ing drunk

we see each other's

doner sauce on the floor.

# So if you want to join me for a while

# Just grab your hat

# Come travel light

That's hobo style... #

You don't know sh*t about hockey,

you skinny-ass Don Cherry.

You're f***ing spitting on me.

F*** you!

- What the hell? Stop it!

- F*** you!

Whoa! Come on!

You're spitting everywhere.

- Your friend is sick.

- So's this Frenchman.

You people live like animals.

Oh!

F*** you!

- What's your problem?

- I'll tell you my problem.

How many minutes

did you play tonight?

I don't know. About eleven.

- So?

- You skate like sh*t

but you play eleven f***ing minutes.

Who the f*** are you?

I'm a f***ing hockey player.

You steal my A,

you steal my power play.

You're a f***ing goon, a thug.

You're f***ing nothing!

You're not a hockey player.

The only reason I'm not

knocking your teeth out

is becuase you're on my team.

Do you know what would happen

if I stopped watching your back?

Yeah.

It would be like before you came.

I liked that better.

We have not pissed together

since we double-teamed

Belchior's mother.

- We pissed on her, too.

- All right!

You pissed on my leg!

All right, lads, all right.

We're in the sh*t, now.

This is Quebec.

Get your f***ing game faces on.

This is about to get ugly.

We have four games left.

We only need two of them.

Shove your ttes carres

up their derrires

and rip their f***ing hearts out.

Let's go get 'em, boys.

You're with me tonight, Mommy.

You're with me tonight.

You can feel the energy.

Take this energy onto the ice.

Dougie, you shadow Laflamme.

Gord, Laflamme, you're starting.

Boys, we win this f***ing thing.

Let's play

like we're supposed to be here.

Right, go on.

Doug, on Laflamme.

Stick to him.

Remember, we're all in this together.

When that puck drops, we all drop.

Shut the f*** up.

Here we go. The fries

are Frenched, the cheese is curded,

- Let's pour gravy on me...

- Drop the f***ing puck!

..and dig in.

Halifax gets the face off. Laflamme

comes up ice with a full head of steam.

Simard lines up Laflamme, Laflamme

avoids him. Simard flies into the boards.

Laflamme moves up the right side

towards the net...

- He scored!

- Come on!

Quebec totally lost control

and Laflamme cashed in.

Nice job!

Laflamme picks up the puck

behind the net.

He spins away from that threat.

At the centre line.

He takes a look, makes a pass.

- Laflamme moves into position.

- Back!

He gets it back again.

Man on! Man on!

- Hey! What the f***?

- Glatt was looking the other way.

- Get him off!

- That's it!

- That's it!

- Get him off.

That's it.

They're calling for the stretcher.

This is getting scary, folks.

Jesus Christ.

Xavier!

He's got a concussion.

He may not be back at all.

And for what you did to Simard,

you've been suspended for one game.

Glatt, this team counts on you.

Whatever it is that is making you

f***ing ovulate,

you better figure it out

and get your f***ing sh*t together.

And for those of you who think

you've got no practice tomorrow,

6 a.m., bag skate, pussies!

I want to see every single one of you

work your f***ing asses off

until you puke your guts out.

This is not f***ing baseball!

Do you want to make the playoffs or not?

Goddamnit. And Glatt? I see you.

You're riding the piss hole.

Back of the bus.

Roll it out, George.

# Well, we fly by night

It's like a rocket flight

# And, baby, that's just what it's for

# Fly by night,

it makes you feel all right

# You keep coming back for more

# Four men in a rock and roll band

# Fly at night, in the morning we land... #

I can't talk right now.

That's why I was texting.

I'm sorry. I'm such a moron.

- So you saw my headbutt, huh?

- Yeah. You f***ed him up.

- Are you at the library?

- No, er...

My boyfriend got home a few days ago.

- Why did you text me, then?

- I dig talking to you

and now I'm thinking about you

and sometimes I sleep with

Angus the Highlander doll.

There's nothing weird about that.

It's official.

Yeah, Doug. I know.

Look, I'm a bad girlfriend, Doug.

I mean, all we did was make out.

I'm a slut, Doug. I'm horny a lot.

I sleep around.

- Oh, okay.

- That doesn't bother you?

The truth is, I just...

I have a really huge crush on you.

I've got to go, Doug.

Hello, sir.

My name is Doug Glatt.

Ross Rhea. Nice to meet you, kid.

- Nice to meet you, too.

- Sit down.

Thanks.

So you're the new me, eh?

Huh! I don't know about that.

- I don't think so.

- Everyone else seems to.

It's good. Good for you, kid.

Thank you.

So why are you wandering around

St. John's at 3 a.m.?

- Aren't you playing us tonight?

- Not me. I got suspended a game.

Too bad.

I ain't much for waiting around.

You're a tough bastard out there.

You can f***ing bang.

Thank you. Thanks so much.

- I'm going to impart some wisdom.

- I could really use some of that.

Everybody loves the soldiers

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