First of fucking many, boys.
‐This an Irish Car Bomb? ‐That's offensive.
‐That's an Irish Hand Grenade. ‐You shouldn't call it that.
‐What's the difference? ‐Well, in Irish Car Bombs,
you drop the shot of Irish whiskey
and the shots of Irish Cream down into a pints of stout.
Which is also presumably Irish.
Sounds a lot like an Irish Hand Grenade.
The difference is, in an Irish Hand Grenades,
you wedge the shots of Irish whiskey
and the shots of Irish Cream
into the tops of the pints of stout.
Which is also presumably Irish.
Then you grab the shots of Irish whiskey,
pulls it out like you would the pins of a hand grenade,
do the shots of whiskey
and then you drink the Irish cream
what's fallen down into the stouts.
Enough talking.
(EXHALES)
‐That's a good shot. ‐It's a really good shot.
Well, it's a great shot and you should just
call it something different, is what I'm saying.
‐Why? ‐Yeah, it's just the names
‐of the drinks. ‐You wanna know what?
Go over and tell somebody who grew up
in Northern Ireland in the 1970s that.
Go ahead and try and tell them that.
Here comes Wayne, the St. Pat's poopy pants.
Well, I don't wanna be
a St. Patrick's Day poopy pants.
All's I'm saying is that we're missing the mark here.
Well, here he comes to poop the party.
Well, here's the scoop and I'm gonna tell you.
Every single year we have this nice St. Patrick's Day party
at our very own Ag Hall
and every single year degens from up country come up
and they fucking ruin it.
We got the hockey team running security this year.
Not sure how I feel about skids DJing though.
I agree because Agricultural Halls are for?
ALL: Agricultural music.
Go clean your bum, poopy.
All's I'm saying is that it's a little bit hypocritical
for us to be mad at degens from up country
for not respecting our St. Patrick's Day party
when we, ourselves, are not respecting St. Patrick.
I'm just saying if somebody's got their fucking day,
‐give them their fucking day. ‐You aren't even religious.
Who's got that kind of money?
Well played.
Yeah, but I hears they likes to get pretty banged up
in Irelands today, too.
I hear they like to get pretty banged up
‐in Ireland most days. ‐St. Patrick's Day
should be about, well, shit St. Patrick did.
‐Like what? ‐Well, he drove the snakes
out of Ireland, for one.
They never had no snakes in no Irelands.
I was never told they had no snakes in Ireland.
No snakes is a metaphor for druid priests.
It's a metaphor, you see.
The druid priests inhabited Ireland
before the Christians did
and they believed in, like, animal and
fucking human sacrifices and shit.
Sounds like something Joe Rogan might do.
‐He's a pretty good guy. ‐Joe Rogan's a great guy.
Yeah, Joe Rogan is a great guy.
I wonder what Joe Rogan would do?
Well, probably some DMT.
Well, I guess there ain't no reason to get excited.
And well, I'm starting to get a bit drunk.
Well, there you go, poopy.
I suppose as long as everyone's having a good time
there ain't no reason to be a poopy pants.
‐(VEHICLE APPROACHING) ‐Well, good timing, brother.
Let's get hammered.
Don't have to tell me twice.
(MUSIC BLARING ON CAR STEREO)
(THEME MUSIC PLAYING)
Thanks for the ride, and have yourself a fantastic day!
Thank you, Seth.
‐I'd have a beer. ‐How's your beer, Dary?
‐I'd have a beer. ‐I'm making a Caesar.
‐Have a fucking beer. ‐I'd have a beer.
You know what that was? You wanna know what that was?
It was entertainment. Entertainment's what that was.
I am a hape.
A hape as the Irish would say.
That was the best St. Patrick's Day party ever.
St. Perfect's Day is what that was.
Yeah!
I don't remember anything.
‐You don't? ‐Wait...
No, I don't remember anything.
‐Nothing? ‐No.
Well, you never lost consciousness.
I came to in the back of Seth's truck there.
On account of fresh air, likely.
Yeah, a glass of water, a bit of fresh air,
‐that'll do it, bud. ‐I got the fear.
‐Yeah, glass of water. ‐I'm scared.
Bit of fresh air.
‐I don't know who I talked to. ‐Yeah, that'll do it.
I don't know what I said to who.
Dary, I know what you did, I know who you talked to
and I know what people are saying about you today.
‐I'm frightened. ‐You
are a fucking legend, Dary.
What?
You are a fucking legend, Dary.
‐No! ‐You are Legen‐Dary.
‐Wayne? ‐So they tell me.
What? Where were you?
Out having a dart likely.
With who?
McMurray, how are you now?
‐Good and you? ‐Not so bad.
Well, a little balmy out here.
Yeah, it's a bit balmy for fucking March, isn't it?
Mmm‐hmm.
I'm gonna speak candidly now, Wayne.
I'm feeling a little bit apprehensive.
Uh‐oh.
Yes, sir. There's an awful lot of degens inside
and I am not too happy about it.
‐Not one little bit. ‐Not one little drill bit.
‐Negatory. ‐That's not one bell pepper.
Mmm‐mmm. I'm wound pretty tight, I can feel it.
Well, you better simmer.
Yes, I better simmer down now.
Glass of water, bit of fresh air, that'll do it.
No, no, no, it's them degens
with their pantone green sleeveless T's.
Their avocado green beads and their mantis green leis
when everyone knows leis are exclusively fucking Hawaiian!
It's infuriating!
Well, here's the scoop and I'm gonna tell you.
We're all hypocrites here,
but so long as everyone's having a good time,
ain't no reason to be a poopy pants.
Yeah. You're right. An "A" for effort, Wayne.
But the pep talk missed the mark.
I'm going back inside
to keep an eye on Mrs. McMurray and Bonnie.
I got a feeling right now security's already shit‐faced.
‐Good enough. ‐Enjoy the ciggie.
(UPBEAT DANCE MUSIC PLAYING)
Night of our lives, boys.
Love that hustle, boys. Love that hustle!
‐Wanna see that jam, boys. ‐Love that jam, boys.
Looking at the jam, dawgs.
Jam, boys, jam boys. Good night.
Tonight we'll dig deep. Balls out.
‐Bardownski. ‐Always bardownski.
Boys, boys, boys...
‐You can't kick it down. ‐You can't kick it down.
‐Yeah!
Boys, we're at this level, right?
Tonight, we're gonna get...
(SHOUTING)
It went in my nose, and I'm not even mad.
I'm not even mad.
So I'm a legend?
You are a fucking legend, Dary.
You are Legen‐Dary.
(CHUCKLES)
All right.
Well, whip it out for me.
Well, does you remember the leprechaun?
No, I don't remember the leprechaun.
Well, the leprechaun
spelled stage one of you becoming Legen‐Dary.
Hope you know leprechauns don't hold
no real significance to St. Patrick's Day.
I did know that. Leprechauns are mythological
faerie folk believed to have inhabited Ireland
‐before the Celts. ‐A‐1, bud.
And last night I gots to be one.
Now first off,
the skids were playing the weirdest song
that I'll admits,
I later grew to appreciates and treasure.
But I was just standing there minding my own beeswax,
enjoying a green beer
and a corned beef and cabbage sandwich
made by Bonnie McMurray
who's over there looking just as sweet as juice.
Which is the traditional St. Patrick's Day sandwich.
Hers were extra special
on account of the spicy Dijon‐dill mustard
she slaps on there and the garlic pickle garnish.
(FLY BUZZING)
I noticed some degens from up country
are picking on Letterkenny's very own
St. Perfect's Day mascot, Pitter Paddy.
And I know that it's David Hoffstettler's brother
Dwight under that costume, and he's a little bit slow,
so I felts compelled to intervene.
But before I could, Dwight Hoffstettler's decided
he's had enough, he peels off the costume,
throws it on the floor in a heap and stomps off.
I sees an opportunity in front of me,
but I concurrently have a corned beef
and cabbage sandwich in my meat handler
and I was planning on tossing a few more down.
Plus, Bonnie McMurray's there looking just so comely.
So she's nothing to run away from, neither.
But I gots to act fast as I noticed the degens
from up country are having the same ideas as me.
So I smash the sammich into my face, walk on over
to where Pitter Paddy's lying on the floor
like a melted snowman and I picks him up
and makes him my own.
Now, I will admit this was fulfilling
somewhat of a childhood dreams for me,
but what happens next was more of a fantasy.
I'm sure you guys know that furry material
does about as much to hide a boner as spandex,
so I was approaching big troubles in little China,
but not exactly complaining about it.
I just wish it had been the thunders
from down unders that ruined the party,
because what came next was certainly unwelcome.
Sammy Sammich, the mascot of Sammy's Sammiches,
he comes running over and he's fuming pissed.
And I can understands why.
I'm over here getting hugs and tickles
from pretty gals, while he's standing there
holding a tray of sammiches like a nut sack.
Now I see he's got a confrontational look
in his eyes and the scowl mask
doesn't exactly do much to stifles it.
And me being no pushover,
I'm not about to be stared down.
So I return the glare, which produces us
into one bona fide stink‐eye stand‐off.
Then, quick as a kitten queef,
the fucking sandwich tray goes flying,
pot of gold's up in the air
and Sammy Sammich spears me to the floor.
You would have thought security
would have broken it up,
but Reilly and Jonesy just stood there
like a bunch of ten‐ply halfwits
sniffing each other's farts.
I'm about to tap out like a fucking sally
when out of nowhere Legen‐Dary comes swooping in
and lays the beats down on Sammy Sammich.
It was entrancing.
I's was spellbound.
Legen‐Dary saved the day.
And with Dary TCB'ing quite handily,
I gathered up my hat and my green suckers,
and it was backs to business as usual.
‐No. ‐Hard yes.
‐Confirmed? ‐So they tell me.
‐Where were you? ‐Out having a dart likely.
With who?
McMurray, how are you now?
‐Good and you? ‐Not so bad.
‐Hear about Sammy Sammich? ‐No.
Well, he's in there starting scraps with everyone.
I suppose that's appropriate
on account of the scowl he's always wearing.
‐That's true. ‐Like, it's not
as if you'd expect him to be in there
kissing babies and such.
It's not his fault. It's these degens
from up country, Wayne.
They have a negative effect on everyone and everything.
They take a beautifully crafted
Floral Embrace bouquet,
this European Fields of Romance bouquet,
this Abundant Love of Mothers bouquet
and they've swapped it out with a big, fat, slobbery,
wet shit in a vase.
I don't know what the fuck you're talking about, bud.
They're ruining everything.
I'm not so sure we've entered that realm yet.
Well, we are on the doorstep, big boy.
We are first cousin to it.
We are a c‐hair away from sheer disaster.
Well, I seen Bonnie and Mrs. McMurray in there
having a decent time.
‐What? ‐I guess so long
as most people are having fun
there ain't no reason to be a poopy pants.
I'm going to get them immediately.
Security's shit‐faced.
Good enough.
Bonnie!
Fucking big city titties, boys.
Night of our titties, boys.
You know about fucking nothing.
Bardownskis.
Bardownskis love it.
Dig deep, Meryl Streep.
Love Daryl Streep!
I love Meryl Streep in The Devil Wears Prada.
‐Stanley Tucci! ‐Boys, boys, boys!
(MUSIC CONTINUES PLAYING)
‐Dan, how's your beer? ‐I'd have a beer.
‐Dary, how's your beer? ‐I'd have a beer.
‐Won't ask how your beer's
doing then.
I can't believe I got into a fight.
Can you believe you got into a second fight?
‐No. ‐That's a Texas‐sized 10‐4,
‐good buddy. ‐The second fight
is what spelled stage two for Legen‐Dary.
(CHUCKLES) Well, Pitter‐Patter.
Well, I'll cater to old poopy pants back there
and give you guys a bit of a back story.
‐We're all familiar with Lent? ‐Yeah.
‐No. ‐So it's fucking
‐Sunday school now, Katy? ‐Lent is a 40‐day season
of the year where Christians try to get closer to God
by praying and not eating or getting hammered.
Fasting is what it's called. It's called fasting.
Christians are encouraged to give something up for Lent.
And I thought that was kind of nice.
And, you know, with spring break coming up
and all, I thought that I would give up sex.
That's too much fucking info.
Too much of anything isn't good for you.
Even apples.
I've never heard that argument about mixing a batch.
However, St. Patrick's Day
falls within the 40 days of Lent
and Lenten restrictions are lifted for the day.
You're not even a fucking Christian, Katy.
Well, who's got that kind of money?
‐Well played. ‐So, I went to get laid.
(MUSIC PLAYING)
(SIGHS) Legendary.
You know, you're really good at making an entrance, Katy.
And that's what I appreciates about you.
Is that what you...
No, that makes sense.
Why don't you take about five percent off her
‐over there, Squirrelly Dan. ‐Yeah, no, that's fair.
Well, you had Sammy Sammich all locked up
in a Texas cloverleaf, which of course is not
to be confused with the Scorpions Deathlock.
I'm not sure I know what that is.
What, the Texas cloverleaf or the Scorpions Deathlock?
Well, either.
You're interplanetary, bud.
‐Really? ‐So they tell me.
‐Where were you? ‐Well, out having
‐a dart likely. ‐With who?
McMurray, how are you now?
‐Shit. And you? ‐Well, not so bad.
I can't take it, Wayne. I've had it. I've had it.
Fuck, you've been into the Irish whiskey, eh, bud?
‐Scotch. I'm Scottish. ‐Well, sure you are.
Scottish and Serbian.
Say, you ever heard of that song by Rihanna
called Disturbia?
You mean, "Number one
"on the U. S. Billboard Top 100
"for two consecutive weeks" Disturbia?
‐Yeah. ‐You mean "People's Choice
"For Favorite Pop Song" Disturbia?
‐Yeah. ‐Recorded for the 2008
album, Good Girl Gone Bad: Reloaded,
which was a re‐release of the Barbadian pop star's
third studio album,
Good Girl Gone Bad, Disturbia?
Yeah.
I think I might have some idea.
So don't you think it would be kind of funny
if Weird Al or someone like that
did a version of it called, In Serbia?
Okay. How would that go?
Well, like, instead of singing "Disturbia,"
you'd sing "In Serbia."
Okay.
Like, you'd pretty near have to shoot a music video
in Serbia to really drive home that joke.
You think that would be funny?
Yeah, I think it could be pretty funny.
Can't take it, Wayne. Can't.
Ready to snap and ready to fucking lose it.
A glass of water, bit of fresh air, that'll do it.
Not that, Wayne, it's them degens
from up country coming down here
and showing no respect at our St. Paddy's Day party.
Well, to be fair, our St. Patrick's Day party
shows no respect for St. Patrick.
Not just that. I can't find Mrs. McMurray.
You wanna know what, so long as everyone's
having a good time, ain't no reason to be a poopy pants.
Everyone is not having a good time.
Well, so long as most people are having a good time,
ain't no reason to be a poopy pants.
Most people are not having a good time.
Is anyone having a good time?
No.
Then I shall be a poopy pants.
Do you wanna know what?
I think I got a solution to serve all parties involved.
‐Yeah? ‐Do you know why
we celebrate St. Patrick's Day?
No. I'm Scottish.
It's to celebrate St. Patrick
bringing Christianity to Ireland
and driving out the druid priests
or "the snakes."
And why would he do that?
Well, to separate the bad from the good, essentially.
Sounds like a pretty good guy.
So, what say we honor St. Patrick
while also serving our own St. Patrick's Day agenda
and drive the snakes out of Letterkenny?
You mean the degens from up country?
Let's hope they got their jammie jams on, good buddy.
(MUSIC PLAYING)
(INAUDIBLE)
You are a fucking legend, Dary.
He's Legen‐Dary.
Guess we really fucked that pig.
Well, I don't think we've seen the last of degens
from up country.
Good! (EXCLAIMS)
Door's wide open!
Door's always open!
But at least we did well by St. Patrick.
And even more importantly, by our own.
(COUGHS)
‐Breakfast? ‐After choring.
‐I'll go make some Caesars. ‐Well...
‐Who's choring? ‐I'll chore.
All right, Squirrelly Dan, more hands make less work.
I'm coming. I just need a moments to reflect.
‐WAYNE: Squirrelly Dan! ‐Yeah, no, I'm coming!
Whoo‐hoo.
(MUSIC PLAYING)