Trailer Park Boys: The Animated Series

Order! You will not use that language in this court.

What's wrong with you, son?

I'll tell you what's wrong with me. The fucking government.

If they hadn't fucked up and ran out of weed,

I wouldn't have had to grow my own to help people out.

If the fucking government ran out of bread, what?

I wouldn't be allowed to bake my own fucking bread?

I'd just have to starve to death? This is fucked. You're fucked.

-Ricky! -Chill out.

Order! You will watch the way you address this court.

Your Honor, this is ridiculous.

This man is not capable of representing himself.

Is that right? Well, the only thing you are capable of

is shaving my bag hair off using your fucking big horse teeth.

Ricky! Jesus Murphy!

Your Honor, this man is making a mockery of this court.

Why don't you mock my cock, suity!

Anytime you wanna fuckin' go, let's fuckin' go! Cape Breton style!

Order! Order in the goddamn court.

I'm sorry, Your Majesty. I'm just pissed off.

The government promised weed, and ran out of the good stuff

in three weeks. That's fucking bullshit.

I understand, but that does not allow you to sell marijuana

-in front of the liquor store. - What? Never fucking happened.

Oh, you think that's me?

I don't even wear glasses. And even if it was,

it would've been me handing out drugs at the liquor store for free,

not fucking selling them.

Fifteen bucks a gram. It's the best weed you'll ever smoke.

Or buy from them, but all they have left is shit dope.

Okay, I was selling a tiny bit of dope, but it was pretty much at my cost.

And I just needed milk and some cereal for my gramson's breakfast.

Son, when was the last time you had a real job, a legitimate job?

I guess in jail. I worked in the kitchen in jail and the wood shop.

-I made hammers in the metal shop-- -I'm talking about a real job.

I mean, there are no jobs on your record.

According to this, you've never even paid taxes.

I know. Awesome, huh?

Mom, is the judge calling Grampy a bum?

Quiet, Mo-Mo.

Well, that's because my brain works

at too smart a level for most jobs, little buddy.

And nobody hires people with "records," Your Judgeliness.

It's not fucking easy. Not that you'd fucking know.

Now, you listen to me and listen good, goddammit.

I'm gonna let you off with a warning, but I'm telling you right now:

No more selling drugs.

And get a job! Do you understand me?

Sorry, what was that? I couldn't hear you.

Maybe the ceiling fans or the dust bugs buzzling around?

-Are you fucking kidding me? - Fuck off.

What was that?

I said, "Right on." See? It's hard to hear in here.

-Apparently, you're not understanding me. - Apparently,

-you're fucked in the head-- -Ricky, watch your mouth!

Jesus! Look, I'm sorry, Your Honor. He understands. I'll make sure of it.

Get out of my court, and if I see you in front of me again,

I'll make an example out of you.

Are we clear?

- -Ricky, just be nice.

Crystally, Your Worshipness.

Why do you have to talk to judges like that?

-Don't like them. -Well, just get me the fuck home.

I gotta feed my kitties.

You fucking son of a ditch bitch! Fucking whore!

This fucking car battery's been acting like an asshole lately.

Haven't you? Huh? Oh, fuck. You think you're better than me?

Go fuck yourself.

Rick, for fuck's sakes, man, you're talking to a car battery right now.

-So? -Settle down.

-Dad, calm down. -What's a "ditch bitch whore"?

You'll find out soon enough about that, little buddy.

I don't have time for this.

My kitties could be staging a shit mutiny at home right now.

A shit mutiny?

If you don't feed kitties,

they will shit on your pillow out of spite.

Well, I guess we're walking, then. Unless one of you guys has some cash.

-Yeah, that's what I thought. -Well, I don't walk. You guys know that.

-Well, just hang on, I got an Uber coming. -You better go find a fucking bathroom.

You're not fucking Ubering in my car there, bud.

Do you know what an Uber is?

It's a shit, isn't it?

Let me get this straight.

You're just a regular guy with a regular car,

and you're making extra money giving people drives?

That's basically it.

Is it legit?

-Of course. -Well, how much money do you make?

I'm making a few hundred a week.

Holy fuck, that's crazy. Maybe I could do this.

I mean, that would be a real job, and I fucking like driving.

Whoa, what the fuck are you doing? You can't smoke in here.

Why the fuck not? I thought you said it was your car.

It's my car, but company rules, no smoking.

And there's a kid in here, for fuck sakes.

Smoking is cool.

Are you fucking serious right now, bud? What is this, a fucking nerd taxi?

Well, there goes that idea, boys. Fuck being an Uber nerd.

Thanks for the great fucking ride.

Here, let me just get some money out to pay you for that.

Got change for this? Bam, fuck you!

Everybody run! Move!

Sorry about that, sir. Thank you very much.

Five stars coming your way.

Why would you pay that idiot?

No money changes hands with Uber, Ricky.

It's all done by credit card, automatically through the phone app.

You just pull up, get out, transaction complete.

And people are using this thing?

Using it? Julian, it's a 70-billion-dollar company.

Seventy billion? With a b?

That's how you fucking spell billion, bud.

So, while you're mentally jacking off to that number,

I'm gonna go feed my kitties.

Fuck, 70 billion, huh?

Fuck, that's a lot of money. Think about that.

You can move the whole trailer park to a warm, topical island in Bahnama.

Oh, you're so cute.

Mr. Lahey! You have to stop showing up and scaring me like this.

I have never seen you more vulnerable, my friend.

What the frig are you talking about?

Listen to yourself. You're wasted again.

How much liquor have you had to drink today?

I drank a whole fucking bottle of this sweet shit.

Things have been going really well here in Sunnyvale lately.

It's been peaceful.

I've been getting along with the guys really well.

The problem is Mr. Lahey seems to show up whenever the frig he wants to.

I don't even need to get completely wasted anymore.

He just frigging pops out of the bottle whenever he wants.

The other day, I was having a really good bowel movement,

and he frigged it right up.

Frig, you made me drop my cucumbers in the tub.

Something's not right here, Randers.

Smell of shit is in the air.

I got a handle on things here.

Everything is great. Everyone is getting along.

Bigger things at play here, bud.

Believe me.

What's going on, boys? Duber? What the fuck is that?

Time to start making some money, buddy. Lots of it.

Duber?

Yeah, it's like Uber, but you can smoke dope in the car.

-It's fucking brilliant. -Uber is fucking lame.

Duber's a way better idea.

You said they're worth 70 billion.

I mean, if we could even steal one one-thousandth

of that fucking business, do you know how much money that is?

Yes, I do. It's 70 million. I can do math. But you're out of your fucking mind.

I mean, do you realize how much money it took them just to develop the software

be able to track the cars, take payments? You can't--

Yeah, that's where you come in, my little Bubbly Wubbly.

What? No, I'm not getting involved in fucking Duber!

You two are gonna wind up in fucking jail. That's how this is gonna end, you watch.

-No, we're not. -Come on, man. Don't be like that.

We got it figured out. We supply the dope. Pre-rolled joints.

We don't sell the dope. It's included in the price,

so it's totally legal.

And it keeps stoned drivers off the roads,

and you gotta admit that is a good thing, Bubs.

Come on, man, we need you.

I mean, I need my gramson to stop thinking I'm a fucking bum.

Mo called you a bum?

Yeah, a few times.

Come on, buddy. Let's show Mo what the fuck we're capable of here.

Jesus Christ.

If I agree to do this with you two fucking lunatics,

I'm in charge or no deal.

This is gonna be a legit business, by the book.

-Of course, man. Sure. -Yeah, man.

-Absolutely. -Not a problem, man.

Not convincing!

Ricky, butt out that joint right the fuck now.

You're joking, right? Why?

Because I'm in charge,

and I just wanted to see if you're gonna listen to me.

We rigged up the Shitmobile with GPS.

- -

- -

Put in an airtight seal so the driver doesn't get high.

Put in a bathroom exhaust fan to keep the air nice and fresh.

Fucking blammo! Our first Duber car.

Press and enter and… done.

All the social media is set up, and software testing is complete.

Electronic payment system's ready.

It's all working, Julian. We're a go, buddy.

No fucking way, Bubs. You know what? You are the fucking man, buddy.

Oh, I know I'm the fucking man.

I mean, I honestly don't think there's a snowball's chance

in fucking hell this business is gonna work,

but I did my best. Here we go.

How's it going, you Tasmanian tuna cocks?

We are officially up and running, man.

-Fuck yeah, boys! - Yeah!

I've been working too. Came up with the perfect jingle.

-Check this shit out. -Wait, let me record it.

Perfect, Ricky. Pretty good. I mean, we're gonna get sued for sure,

but I'll add that to the social media sites right now.

Get sued by who? A fucking dog?