The Hardy Bucks Movie
- PG
- Year:
- 2013
- 89 min
- 311 Views
Robbie Keane with the chance.
Keane takes it and scores.
Poland and the Ukraine,
are you ready for us?
All right, lads. Come here, okay.
Salmon, refreshments.
There's men who need their hydration
here, Salmon, come on.
Come on, Salmon, hurry up.
What's going on with us?
It's nine all.
- Sure, we know that.
- We should have this in the bag.
In the bag? Sure, I saw The Viper
slip the ref a nodge of hash.
- The ref?
- At the car park.
Prick.
I bought that man 20 euros
worth of pints last night.
F***ing can't trust anyone any more.
- Come on, Salmon. Good man.
- All right-a-f***ing boy!
Salmon, you could have got
something a bit less alcoholic.
See, this is your problem,
Toastie, you've gone soft.
You won't take a drink and you
wonder why we don't play you.
You cannot have a sober man on the pitch.
It's not me who made up the rules.
If you're out there sober,
you're a danger.
Sure,
it's not safe for your team,
it's not safe for the other
wankers on the pitch.
He's only being sound.
Can you imagine if Barry Macey
was f***ing refereeing?
- Oh, don't even start that now.
- Oh.
You wouldn't kick a ball
if you passed the breathaliser.
How's it going?
Eddie Durkan here.
Well, this is Castletown, my home.
Look, it's pissing rain and that's June.
How depressing.
There's no women, there's no work,
and no craic.
Not like the craic
these boys are having.
See, the one bit of good
news is that Ireland
have qualified for the
Euros out in Poland.
And if I was any right man,
I'd be out there, too.
But A, my mates are f***ing useless.
And B, I'm skint.
Last time we qualified
was years ago
and my Uncle Mick was out there
and he said it was a great craic.
Look at him. He's like a cross between
Liam Neeson and Samuel Beckett.
Man's a f***ing legend.
This'll take me back 24 years.
Germany, '88.
Jaysus, we had the time
of our lives.
Sh*t, Germany wasn't
ready for us at all.
And they were never ready for the feckin'
eighty percent proof poitin, neither.
Seth and the boys brought over
and we were selling them off in
small little bottles to the Germans.
We were making a small fortune
until we got caught out.
the old Sergeant Major's nose
that he was fond of
a drop himself.
I gave him a litre.
You know what he said?
"Fair play to you lads,"
gave me a tap on the back
and says, "Off you go. "
Hey, he's a good uncle,
isn't he?
Hep-a-shout-out and f***ing
little bad f***ing yeah
What's the craic.
Belleth door, press now.
Hello, what's the craic?
Is your brother in there?
rehabilitation clinic in Galway.
- For?
- For addiction to hash.
Do I look like I came down
in the last shower?
- Addiction to hash?
- He kept having hallucinations.
That sounds like class craic, man.
Are you saying the
drugs don't work?
Who are you man, Neil Ashcroft?
Richard.
Whatever.
That means the gear is solid.
Mental gear solid,
and I'm solid shnake.
If the brother isn't around,
Shtevie,
then the family's gonna
have to pay top dollar.
So if you can go and get some
money for me, that'll be...
That'll be sound.
Beaten by a child.
Why didn't you crack
some shkull, man?
A bit f***ing harsh,
he's only twelve.
You're meant to be
the hired goons, boys.
I don't hire Blubberpuss and
Edward Leatherhands for nothing, man.
And there is the final
whistle. The final score in Poznan.
Bitter, bitter disappointment.
Ireland one, Croatia three.
Yeah, well, look at the craic
the boys were having out there,
see the lad sucking anyone's tit.
I want my team to win,
not lads sucking on tits.
You can suck on tits any
day of the week.
Only a few seconds in and we're a goal
down. We're absolutely shite, man.
- Buzz, is that you?
- Yeah, baby.
Thought the place had
been broken into.
Burglars.
It's just a bit of
riding there, will you relax.
All right, so.
- Good man.
- Lucky for some.
Lads, do you want a cup of tea?
- Nah, I'm good thanks, man.
- Cheers, Frenchie though, all right.
- Buzz?
- Yeah?
Do you want a cup of tea?
Yes, please.
And how about your mate there?
Please, one sugar.
Sound, whoever you are.
Moira.
Pleased to meet you.
Frenchtoast.
I'm The Boo, by the way.
Will you shut the f*** up, lad,
I'm trying to concentrate.
She's a nice voice
on her though, whoever she is.
Sprint!
If the boys in green played as
well as that lad in there now.
Bingo!
Yeehaw! Howdy, dick blowers.
Do you like the f***ing wheels, man?
Where are you going? Big romantic
three-way to Athlone, is it?
Very funny.
We'll be bypassing Athlone actually.
Bypassing it on the way to P
to the O to the L to the A to the D.
- Polad?
- Poland.
I meant to say Poland.
I missed out the N.
Going to watch the f***ing Euro
World Cup and the boys in green.
Yeah, you're such a big man going
out there and everything.
Yeah, I am a big man
in a big f***ing van.
How are you going to
get tickets out there?
F***, man.
Sh*t. What if I go all
the way out there?
You mean there's no tickets, like?
- There's no tickets left for people?
- No, there's no tickets left.
- F***.
- Yeah, exactly.
- Now you're not so smart, are you?
- You need a ticket.
I don't... I don't want to go
all the way out there and like,
not have any f***ing
tickets to the games.
Let's just say a game like
Ireland v. Poznan in Italy, yeah?
- You're a f***ing arsehole, man.
- Ha, I'm only messing.
Listen, I'm only here to rub it in.
Enjoy another f***ing summer trying to
master self-fellatio, you big gang bangers.
Gesundheit!
Woo! This is it, lads,
life on the open road.
Three thousand kilometre
round trip, just us.
What could be more fun, eh?
Well, I've compiled a list of about
forty, fifty "dos or don'ts" though.
I need you to adhere to them
while you're under my control, okay?
Number one. No shitting in the
on-board toilet. Nicht, nicht.
Number two. Shleeping. I'll have all the
best beds, you can have the sh*t ones.
If I'm on the job, which is hopefully
going to be every f***ing night,
I don't want you sleeping
in the same van.
Number four.
No f***ing nudity from either of ye.
Especially you, Stateside.
Don't want any f***ing nightmares.
Plus, you're meant to be hard lads.
If I see your cock and balls
in action then, you know,
it just breaks the
f***ing illusion.
Number seventeen. Shtateside,
you sing lullabies to me when I...
They're so beautiful.
So gentle.
So moist, aren't they, lads?
Ah, here, hey, this is f***ing depressing.
It's boring, that's what it is.
We should be out there
with the rest of them,
on the way to Poland now.
Sitting round here,
like a gang of wankers.
Clims and leabes.
More sh*t talk out of you,
Eddie, is it?
Yeah, sh*t talk, is it?
It's not sh*t talk, Boo.
Ah, it's f***ing pure muck.
- Is it?
- Yeah.
Then we're going Dublin, Ibiza, America,
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