Little Man Page #6

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- Thanks.

- Thanks.

How about you guys?

Anything to drink?

- Yeah, I'll grab a beer, sure.

- Me too, me too. Get me one.

- There you go.

- Thank you.

- Okay. Here you go.

- Nice ass.

Pig.

Tramp.

What the hell was that for?

- What did I do?

- You know her?

No, I don't know her.

I don't know-I don't.

- Hey, man. Get your own.

- Hey.

- What?

- Beer. It's empty.

- So get another one.

- I'm gonna-

- Get off. Wait.

- What's your problem, man?

- Come on, man. Come on, Miller.

- Miller.

You suck.

- You suck, man. You suck.

- Shut it, you losers!

Want some of me? Come down here.

Come play with the big boys.

- You're a bully. You're a bully, man.

- Yeah, I thought so, you princess.

- Come on, you.

- Pick on somebody your own size.

Come on down here, then.

Who did that?

You. You're dead!

He's gonna kill me.

- Get out of my way.

- It wasn't me. It was the baby.

- You're mine.

- Get him.

Hockey fight!

He's got my ear. Get

this baby off of me.

- Hey. Hey, hey.

- Is that all you got?

I don't know, baby.

Maybe you're right. Maybe I'm

not ready to be a dad yet.

It really wasn't your fault.

It's so funny, man. It

just happened so fast.

I took my eyes off him

for one second and:

He would've never had

another birthday again.

Hey. Why don't we do that?

Why don't we throw him

a birthday party?

Well, we don't know

when his birthday is.

So what? We'll

celebrate it tomorrow.

We'll throw him a big birthday bash. The

biggest birthday party he ever had.

That is a really good idea.

And I got a little

surprise for him.

Does everyone know

what time it is?

It's time to dance and sing,

and have lots and lots of fun.

Hey there, boys and girls,

it's Dinosaur Rex...

your favorite prehistoric pal.

Now, where's the birthday boy?

- There.

- Yo, no, no.

- Happy birthday.

- Hey, yo.

Happy birthday, little buddy

I got a nasty hangover...

and a rock stuck in my gut...

that got my colon backed

up like rush-hour traffic.

Now, either you're gonna stop

with your fruity kid songs...

or I'm gonna kick you right

in your furry balls.

- All right?

- Well...

maybe we should

talk about manners.

Now, manners are very important.

When I was a tiny lizard, my mom told

me that if I had good manners...

one day I could grow up to be

president of the whole United States.

But instead, you entertain

snotty-nosed kids...

in a crusty, blue

dinosaur suit...

that smell like sweaty

armpits and baby urine.

Far cry from president, buddy.

I iust got out of rehab.

Because of the new

"deadbeat dad" law...

my wife's garnishing 85

percent of my dinosaur wages.

So if I weren't afraid to lose

this iob, I'd kick your ass.

Oh, you so pathetic you need

$4.50 an hour that bad?

Come on, get your ass kicked.

- Bring it on.

- Come on. Come on, then.

- Hey.

- Oh, you mine now. You mine.

Get him, get him, get him.

You little bastard.

That was a cheap shot.

- You stink.

- I hate your show.

It has been confirmed, the

driver of the stolen vehicle...

matches the description of the

suspect in Friday's diamond heist.

- Police are looking to question...

- I knew it.

Calvin "Baby Face" Sims.

Sims, who was recently released from

state prison, has thus far eluded-

Hey, guys, what do you say

we liven this party up?

We have a little

father-son football game.

Football? Greg, I don't know. I

don't think that's a good idea.

Nicholas is a little young

and small for football.

How about Simon Says instead?

You know, Richard, your son

practically squats to pee.

Come on, man. Look, we gotta

scar these kids for life.

All right? We gotta

toughen them up a bit.

You don't-

- Come on.

- Come on.

Darryl, you in, or does

Calvin have ballet class?

I'm down.

- All right.

- All right, let's do it.

Football? That's not in the books.

I've read all the books.

Yeah, you're wetting yourself here.

Go play football.

- You sure?

- Rich, let's go.

- It's 7-O already.

- All right. I'm playing football.

Take off the sli-Oh, my God.

Whoa, here we go.

P- U-T-I-T-I-N Put it in.

P- U-T-I-T-I-N Put it in.

You and me, this is father-son stuff.

Right here, huh? Here we go.

- Ready, set...

- I love you, baby.

Hike.

One Victoria's Secret. Two-

- Oh, God.

- Yeah.

You want the hospital

or the graveyard, punk?

Yeah.

- Here we go.

- Are you okay?

- I thought this was a touch game.

- You have his license number?

- What is he doing?

- Sorry, D, did I hurt your vagina?

Our team is what? Dynamite

Our team is what? Dynamite.

- What's going on?

- Our team is.

Dynamite.

Break.

Run, Dad.

Nicholas, are you okay?

Game on.

- Just stay down, son.

- Thattaboy. You did it.

Now, that's why we put

creatine in our corn flakes.

- You okay?

- Punch him, kick him.

Stick him in the eye.

Here we go, here we go.

All right, here we go.

Come on, boys.

- Yeah.

- Your husband is a brute.

- That's right.

- Yo, Greg, man.

You should be ashamed

of yourself!

Hey, what are you doing, Greg?

Man, he's a kid.

Hey, Darryl, Darryl.

Shut your pie-hole, man!

- It's football. It's football.

- I know.

- Stop acting like a b*tch.

- Why you starting, man?

Come on, let's go. Man, come on.

You guys suck.

It's time to kick some butt.

Come on.

Ready, set, hike.

- I got him.

- Nicholas, block left. Come on.

- Tommy.

- How do you like them apples?

- Get him.

- Yeah, come on.

- Yeah.

- Yes. Yes.

Tommy, what's going on?

You call that a tackle?

Told you, you gotta

stay in the zone.

You gotta eat some lightning

and crap thunder, son.

You wanna get up? Come on.

Come on. Come on.

- Come on. Come on, man.

- Shut up, Darryl. It's my son.

All right, it's do-or-die time.

Last point wins.

Nicholas, you ready?

Purple Haze. Purple Haze 15.

Ready, set, hike.

Follow me.

- Go, Nicholas. Go, Nicholas.

- Come on, come on.

- Bring it on.

- Go. Go.

- Go. Oh, my goodness.

- Come on, get up.

Go, Nicholas. Go, Nicholas.

Go, Nicholas.

- Come on.

- Tommy, hurry.

This team is dynamite

We're dynamite.

- That's my son.

- That is my boy. That is my boy.

You did it, son. You

crapped thunder.

Nine months inside. Yes.

Dad, Dad.

- Yeah, son?

- You suck.

Son, Dad hurt his pee-pee.

- Get up, you p*ssy.

- I can't.

All right, everybody, here she comes.

Everybody, on three.

One, two, three.

They trying to punk me.

All these people trying

to make a fool out of me.

Trying to make me cry.

I didn't cry when I went to prison,

and I ain't gonna cry now.

I don't care if I never had a

mother who threw me a party.

Today is my birthday and

I'm gonna smile, damn it.

I wish I had a family.

Well done, baby.

What is this, Dad?

I got a gift for the kid. I know

I've been a little tough on him.

But it ain't easy when I've been

the center of all the attention...

and all of a sudden, a kid

walk in the house. A baby.

I want you to know now, from

now on, I'm here to help.

Now, Calvin, make a wish.

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