Buddy Games

Throughout history, humans have had a primal instinct to hunt,

to compete, to dominate.

Initially, survival was a daily necessity.

Kill or be killed. There was no choice.

And through these battles, through all the aggression

against the opposition, a respect developed.

An unexpected camaraderie was born.

And around the world, brotherhoods were forged.

But now that we're civilized and spoiled

by the luxuries of the modern world,

those instincts have been dulled.

However, that primal need to dominate remains.

Even today, people around the world need an outlet,

an arena to crush the competition.

And I'm not talking about fantasy football.

I'm talking about real competition.

Blood, sweat, and beer.

This is the story about my group of friends.

And for the last 20 years, we found that outlet

to unleash our need to conquer, to win,

to be crowned king,

and to ruthlessly demoralize our best buddies.

But at the end of the day, we are lifelong friends,

and nothing could come between our brotherhood.

Well, almost nothing.

Where are you?

Oh, okay.

Oh, okay. Get some.

Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah.

Fuck you!

Fuck!

Damn it!

Ow! Fuck! Aaah! Aaah! Stop!

Fucking stop shooting! Aaah!

Too much!

Oh, fuck.

Yeah!

- Who's the king? - You're the king!

I want to say a couple words here.

I should not be standing here

collecting another championship,

but I am, thanks to guys like Doc.

I had you, Shelly. I had you.

You had me dead in the fucking water,

- I did, Shelly. - right there by the tree stump,

and then you... what happened? You panicked, right? You spazzed out?

That is a good quality in a doctor, you must admit.

Your patients are very lucky. We'll let it go, and Zane...

- That's my name! - "In Zane" in the membrane.

You idiot. You're such an idiot.

This fucking guy!

And, Durfy, I was really hoping you'd win, man.

- Oh, thank you. - 'Cause I wanted to go down on the champion.

Since I'm the champion, you can go down on me.

- Yeah, I'll start now. - Ooh! Ooh, ooh!

It's "ding!" Like a bullet off Superman. That's what that was.

Where's big Bob? Big Bob! Bobfather!

- Yes! - The man we owe it all to.

The man who put all this shit together.

- Bobby, thank you. I love you, brother. - Love you too, buddy.

And last but not least, Dixon Bender "like Beckham."

Get over here, Bender. Bender,

I, uh, I've won, uh,

six championships in six years.

What do you have to say about that?

- Well, Shelly, I... - Oh, we're all out of time.

So sorry, Bender. Love you, Bobby!

- Whoo! - I need a beer.

Hey, hey, hey, hey.

Bender, I'm sorry, man. I'm sorry about earlier.

I was just trying to make sure you were actually dead, you know.

Well, you did. You shot me, like, 30 times, Shelly.

- Thirty times. You painted a fucking house. - Yeah.

It hurt.

Aw, sweet, sweet Bender. Come on.

Come on over here. You didn't deserve that.

- I'll never do it again, okay? - All right.

- You hear me? - Yeah, yeah, yeah.

'Cause you are the toughest son of a bitch I know,

and you wear your heart on your shoe.

Aaah! Fuck!

You can be such an asshole, dude. Fuck!

- You're 33? - Yeah.

- Wow! - You're so good looking for an older guy.

- Yeah! Totally. - I am not.

- Yeah, you are. - No, I'm not.

You look like a movie star.

You seriously think I look like a movie star?

Yeah, totally!

- You're hot! - Wow, thank you!

- What do you do? - Oh, I operate a backhoe.

I dig a lot of, uh, sewer mains and cesspools.

It's, uh, anywhere where waste generally dissipates into the soil.

- Like poo? Oh. - Mm-hmm.

Pretty good job.

Your grandparents let you throw parties like this here?

- Yeah. Yeah. - Really?

Well, every summer, last 15 years.

- Oh, my... - Hello! Who's this beautiful lady?

- Hi, I'm Tiff. - Tiff?

Tiff, do you know who this is?

- That's Bob. - This is Bob.

Bob is the bestest, sweetest son of a bitch

- in the whole, wide world. - Are you gonna kiss me on the lips?

I'm gonna kiss you right on your lips, you big, handsome...

- You guys should kiss. - I love this guy.

Okay. Nikki calls.

Jesus Christ.

Careful...

Hey, who's got my bucket?

There you are, baby.

Sheldon Baldinger.

Why, Nikki Baldinger? Hi, wifey.

I think it's time we have a little chat.

Yeah? What do you want to talk about?

I think it's time for my big, strong champion

to take his trophy... inside.

- Shelly! Shelly! We got a sleeper. Right there. - Dude.

Mark did a bunch of absinthe. He's basically in a coma.

So fire up the nut sac.

Time for the old meat goggles.

Rain check, babe. I'm sorry. I can't disappoint my fans.

Whoo! Who wants some balls and gravy?

Balls! Balls! Balls! Balls! Balls! Balls!

Ugh.

Unbelievable. Look at this guy.

Why do I do this? Every year, I get dragged down to these things.

Bunch of grown men acting like teenage chimps.

Yeah, they're animals.

Poor Mark's passed out. Now he has balls smeared all over his forehead.

He's a schoolteacher.

It's a good thing Mark's students aren't here.

All he cares about is work

and beating his buddies at the Buddy Games, especially you, Bender.

I haven't showered for three days!

Why don't you teach him a lesson?

From us. Come on. It'll be fun.

- What, shoot him? I can't do that. - Okay.

Two for one. Two nuts, one guy.

Look familiar, Bender?

- What if I did? - Yeah, do it.

Left hook. Uppercut.

Body blow. Aaah!

What?

Shel! Shelly!

Bender, you fucked him up real good, man.

Jesus Christ, what am I looking at?

- What's going on? - Nothing.

You know, I was doing the math

on how many years we've been coming here,

- and it's five years of Sundays. - I know.

She's making the same casserole.

Oh, God.

My mom really appreciates it though.

And I appreciate you for coming with me.

I was thinking that maybe we could

- add something to the Sunday routine. - Like what?

I'm just gonna keep sliding down the counter until you figure it out.

We could see how we like that.

Yeah. You want to do it right here?

You want to add something to the Sunday routine?

I'm staring at a picture of myself as a child staring back at me.

It's horrifying.

Oh, God!

Okay, my buns are warm.

Bless your heart!

Oh, I always forget to heat those up.

Not a big deal. I mean, look at your casserole.

- Isn't it good today? - Oh...

- Did you do something different this time? - No.

No, you baked a pie. How am I gonna compete with you?

Oh, I bought that pie, sweetie.

Bill hates my pie.

What? What's that?

I said, you hate my pie.

Oh, yeah. Store pie's better.

You know, I always think that pie is pie.

You know, as long as it's warm

and lots of whipped cream, you know.

- Mmm. - Bob loves my pie, right?

- I do love your pie. Very much. - Yeah, Bob loves my pie.

Sounds like you guys are talking about vagina.

- Oh, Bill! - What?

Oh, good Lord! I know what you meant.

No, we were actually talking about vagina.

- No, we weren't. - Oh, stop it.

Bobby, when are you gonna marry this girl?

Mom, please.

- Peas? - No, Dad. I don't want peas.

I want grandbabies, for goodness sake.

I know you want grandbabies. You say that every weekend.

- What are you guys waiting for? - Mother...

Mary Ann Baldinger?

Uh, give me one second.

Why don't you take him away somewhere romantic?

Mrs. Baldinger. This is a surprise. How are you?

Not so good, Bobby. Sheldon needs you. Now.

- We're at Silver Linings. - Silver Linings? Like, the rehab?

Yes. I'll explain when you get here. Come now.

- I'm sorry, you guys. I have to run. - What?