It finally happened, boys.
-You had your first heart attack? -[Ben] No!
You're getting your own place and becoming an independent adult?
[Ben] Shut up!
You finally accepted Jesus?
What? Who are you? What the fuck are you doing here?
I'm just sharing the good word.
Get out of here!
Jesus can suck my flappy tits!
-[kid groans] -Gentlemen, listen up.
For the first time ever,
we've been invited to the Cincinnati Invitational Tournament.
Whoa! What do we get if we win?
Guys, there's no way we win.
These teams are actually good, and you guys are very bad.
[scoffs] Tell us how you really feel.
This tournament is the fucking prom for coaches.
Even Phil Storm from Storm on Sports on channel 60 will be there.
Hey, yo! Incredible! Phil Storm's gonna be there.
You're a fan? You know him?
No, I was being sarcastic,
which is sometimes hard to do with my lisp.
Oh, I'm sorry, Coach.
I won't be able to do a lot of the mingling.
I'll be too busy creating a perfect date for Shannon's birthday at the hotel.
Boring!
Ron, how many times do I have to tell you,
no romantic shit with my wife during team activities.
Boys, the bus leaves at 9:00 a.m. sharp.
No excuses!
Whoever's not there gets left behind.
No one is above the rules!
[kid] Except for Jesus.
He makes the rules.
Get outta here!
[theme music playing]
[whistle blows]
♪ Hey, yeah ♪
♪ Sick of my job Sick of those damn kids ♪
♪ Hey, yeah ♪
♪ Driving me crazy 'Bout to lose my shit ♪
♪ Hey, yeah ♪
♪ Sick of my job Sick of those damn kids ♪
♪ Hey, yeah ♪
♪ 'Bout to lose my shit, yeah ♪
[tires screech]
♪ Hoops! ♪
[whistle blows]
♪ Hoops! ♪
Well, boys, we finally made it.
Nothing is different here in Cincinnati.
The rims are still ten feet high,
the basketballs are still 22 ounces,
and DJ is still 84 pounds overweight.
[laughs] And that's after a big dump.
Whoa! Phil Storm!
Heard a lot of interesting things about you, Coach Hopkins.
-Mind if we do a quick interview? -You want me to be on Storm on Sports?
And we're live in three, two, one.
[buzzer]
Sorry, we can't go till that buzzer stops.
Hey, knock it off! I'm giving an interview.
Stop that buzzer!
Why don't you just hit the snooze button again?
[alarm buzzing]
Oh, fucking RadioShack motherfuckers fucked me again.
-[glass smashes] -[Ben] How the fuck is it still open?
Ooh, this one gets me!
[line ringing]
You left me behind, you pricks.
You said we had to.
It was your rules. You really should have seen that coming.
Well, how the hell am I supposed to get to Cincinnati now?
Well, if you hurry, you could probably catch a ride with Shannon.
She's really coming on my trip?
I thought you were joking.
That's why I boring-ed you.
It's her birthday.
I mean, I planned a romantic weekend,
and not making her ride on the bus with the team is just the first
in a series of birthday presents I've arranged for her.
Plus, she says I get too chatty in the car.
You know, she thinks I just go on and on.
I think I get it from my Uncle Peter.
Now, he wasn't a blood uncle, just a good pal of my dad's.
Hello?
Ben's gonna catch a ride.
I don't wanna hear a damn thing about Ben!
That man ruined my whole weekend.
You think I wanna be here chaperoning?
I was gonna do a sensory deprivation tank and trip inside my own body.
But here I am with you fools.
I love an overnighter.
[chuckles] What happens on the road stays on the road.
Just like my dad.
You guys are missing the forest for the trees.
This is a basketball tournament on the road.
You know who's gonna be there?
Uh, basketball players, coaches, scorekeepers.
Supportive parents!
No! Cheerleaders!
Ones who don't know we're losers.
-Oh, yeah. Cheerleaders are great. -Oh, hell yeah.
Oh, damn! I brought road chili for the drive,
but it leaked out of its container.
Yeah, and all over your bag.
The container was the bag.
Why would I put a container inside another container?
That don't make no sense, you dumb shit.
[tires screech]
[smashes]
I know, Mom, but Ron means well.
He thinks it'll still be a romantic birthday weekend,
even with all the kids and the games and the...
Ben!
No, sorry, Mom. Ben's here.
A little heavier in the face, but I think he's just bloated.
I need a ride. Ron made me miss the bus.
Nuh-uh.
Ben, I just wanna have a nice, peaceful drive up there
listening to my podcasts about brutal murders.
Shannon, please. It's the Cincinnati Invitational.
Is that why you're dressed like Colonel Sanders?
Shannon, trust me. You won't even know I'm in the car.
[woman] Welcome to another episode
of Women Who Might Kill Listen to Women Who Did Kill.
On this episode, we explore the twisty-turny tale
of a landlady murdered in cold blood,
but who did it?
-Our gripping t-- -It was the daughter!
I saw it on the news.
I really thought her sister did it, but she didn't.
You're gonna shit yourself! Here's why:
you don't see it coming! You really don't. It's an amazing ending.
Argh!
[boys struggling and groaning]
Behold,
the mecca of cheerleaders.
Now what?
We can't just go up to cheerleaders. We need a plan.
Yes, the perfect plan.
Every move must be mapped out precisely, and then, when the moment's right...
Scott's talking to them.
-[laughing] -[girl] Oh, that's so funny!
-Oh, my God. You're so stupid! -[Scott] Now, stop it.
[laughing]
Hi. Checking in for Lenwood High School.
You must be Ben Hopkins.
Oh! [laughs]
Oh, no, no, no!
I mean, maybe someday, I hope,
but right now, I'm Ron, the assistant coach.
Only real coaches...
I'm sorry, head coaches can check in.
If the head coach isn't here, the team doesn't play.
I'm Coach Hopkins.
You're Mr. Ben Hopkins?
Bitch, it's 2020!
You really wanna do this?
You're Ben until he shows up.
Oh, OK. Then you have to set up for Shannon's birthday.
In there, you'll find a list of every activity,
color-coordinated by intimacy level.
I need to watch the kids.
Oh, the kids will be fine.
Marcus is very maternal.
Please, I need everything to go perfectly for Shannon.
Attention! All head coaches, please report to Ballroom A.
[yelps] I got to go be Coach.
Let me know when Shannon gets here. Hopkins out!
[sighs] Great.
Should be floating in a fucking tank, tripping my balls off.
Instead, I'm stuck in shitty Cincinnati.
[angelic music plays]
Cincinnati, hello!
Ooh, this is nice!
Mmm!
What songs do you know?
Well, I'm second chair in the Cincinnati Philharmonic.
-Do you know the song "Tubthumping"? -Tchaikovsky?
Chumbawamba.
Oh...
Yes.
[horns honking]
Are those Munchie Poppers?
Yes, of course. It's a road trip!
This is always our road trip food.
OK, fine, since we're on a road trip.
Yeah, we had so much fun on those road trips.
-[horns honking] -The fuck is going on with this traffic?
I mean, with traffic this bad, the guy better be dead.
I'm not happy he's dead,
but this long of a wait, we'd better have a death.
[horns continue honking]
[siren wailing]
[exhales deeply]
Yep, it's definitely a time bomb.
What kind of sick fuck labels it?
Please, get off at the next exit. We gotta find another route.
Oh, no way. Uh-uh. That's how you always get us lost.
[GPS] Estimated time in traffic, one hour.
No! No way.
No, no, no! No way!
Argh! I'm sweating in my suit.
Take off your jacket.
I can't! It's a one-piece.
Damn it!
We're gonna have a great tournament, head coaches.
And I'm sure we can all agree
that a team is only as good as his assistant coach.
[chuckling]
[laughing]
[laughing] All right, then.
And now a special guest who needs no introduction,
one of the most famous college basketball coaches of all time...
[all gasp]
[cell phone chimes]
[Ben] Bobby Knight?
He met my hero, Bobby Knight?
Oh, he's gonna hear it now!
You're not a coach, Ron. I'm the coach.
Oh, damn it. Now we lost service!
You got us lost in the middle of goddamn nowhere.
Oh, just relax. There's a gas station right up there.
We'll just pull in, and we'll ask for directions.
Fine. I have to pee anyway.
Uh, excuse me.
Hey! Hey, watch the suit!
Sorry. You startled me. Are you the new Colonel Sanders?
I think it's still Gaffigan.
Listen, buddy.
I'm trying to get to Cincinnati. What's the best way from here?
Oh, you mean Sin City?
[laughs] That's what I call it.
I had a foursome there once. You wanna see some pictures?
Look, I'm in a hurry.
But yeah, sure. Real quick.
-What the hell happened? -I'll tell you what the hell happened.
This guy claims he was in a foursome, but there's only two women here.
Who do you think's taking the picture, dumbass?
I guess that checks.
Where's the car?
Shannon, what'd you do?
Oh, fuck! You had to pee.
That tiny little bladder of yours always ruins everything.
[violin playing]
Don't judge me.
[knock at door]
Hi, you must be Shannon.
We're here for your couple's massage.
[Opal] Hmm!
Are you thinking what I'm thinking?
[Opal moaning]
Fuck it. Perhaps I shall start driving for Uber.
Argh! Son of a bitch!
Who even cares?
No one's gonna see me in this great suit anyway.
Ron's in Cincinnati. Where the fuck am I?
Nowhere. We are nowhere.
You really topped yourself this time, Ben.
No phone, no wallets, and no car.
Why are you blaming me?
We should be blaming that big-dicked asshole at the gas pump.
Your job was to ask for directions.
How hard is that?
That's what I started with. I can't predict where a conversation goes.
Was I to say no to pictures of a foursome?
Which, after much thought, I'm convinced was just a threesome with a selfie stick.
Will you stop talking about that guy?
I'm just saying, that angle was way too high.
Cool guy though.
[elevator pings]
Why can't we just go knock on doors and do a room-to-room cheerleader check?
'Cause that's creepy.
The smooth man's game is to do what we're doing:
wait in an elevator until they wander on.
-I'm getting hungry. -Shocker.
-Check your pockets. -[grunting]
[gasps] It's a miracle.
Stuffing your pockets with corn dogs is not a miracle, DJ.
It is if you forget you put 'em there.
[gasps] Another miracle!
God is sending me a message,
-and it is delicious. -[elevator bell dings]
-Shit. -Say something.
-Do something. Goddamn. You! -[boys whispering]
-Say something. -Hey! Get off me.
You got this.
Play it cool.
[bell rings]
What are you doing?
I... Uh, we...
-Corn dog? -Eww! What?
Oh my God. This is painful.
Ladies, the guys and I are gonna hit the pool later.
-Do you wanna meet us there? -Sure.
[boys] Cool!
[bell dings, door opens]
Just another smooth play by Big Daddy DJ.
Quiet down. [clears throat]
Hand goes up, mouths go shut. All right.
I hope that you're all enjoying the complimentary buffet and open bar.
Wait. It's free? Even the shrimp?
I wanted to take this opportunity
to welcome a coach that's joining us for the first time.
Well, that was going to be the extent of the welcome,
but he sent multiple emails demanding to give a speech, so...
[clears throat] ...please welcome Ben Hopkins.
[applause]
Oh, don't worry, Mr. Hopkins.
The speech that you sent us is in the prompter, just as you wrote it.
Thank you all for coming here tonight.
Oh my God, Coach.
-[man] Hm? -[coughing]
You know what? Just turn the prompter off.
I'm gonna go off script and speak from the heart.
What I love about being a coach
is that we are in positions of great leadership.
And I hope we all remember each and every day
how fortunate we are to be more than the next generation of leaders.
We are the ones who lead the leaders.
We're leader leaders!
[murmuring]
But most importantly, it's about the kids.
Without us around, who knows what trouble they'd get into.
[Isaac] Oh, my God!
-You know who I feel bad for? -The family of the deceased?
No! Us!
We can't party with cheerleaders in this dump.
They're gonna get in here and turn right back around.
We won't see a single tankini.
What? A tankini.
A 16-year-old girl's modest transition from a one-piece into a bikini.
Tank top, bikini. A tankini.
Tankinis.
Maybe we should just go back to the room.
It's gross there, but not as gross as this.
No!
Guys, come on! We can fix this.
Now, I know it's not pretty,
but if we all work together, we can make this pool sparkle.
So let's roll up our sleeves and get rid of all this disgusting DNA.
-But-- -We are cleaning this pool!
Tankinis!
[electronic music playing]
Guys, you gotta scrub harder.
I can totally still smell all the murder.
What I wanna know is how do you draw a chalk outline under the water?
That don't make no fucking sense.
Look! Maybe somebody in there can help us.
We can make it. We're not too late.
We can try, but they're not gonna let me in without an ID.
I always get carded.
[laughs]
Good one.
Oh, I'm sorry. You were serious.
Hi. Now, you're probably not gonna believe this.
I just don't have my ID because...
You're old and you forgot. No worries.
Hi there.
May I please borrow your phone for just a teeny tiny second?
-What are you doing? Call Ron. -I don't know his number.
I don't know anyone's phone number. Here. You call Ron.
I don't know his number off the top of my head.
How do you not know his number? He's your boyfriend.
Well, he's your assistant coach!
Give me the phone!
Call Ron!
Hey, Kathy!
Wait. Who the hell are you?
-Who the hell are you? You're not Ron. -Yes, I am.
Well, you're not the Ron I'm looking for, asshole.
Well, you're not Kathy, asshole!
What the hell is going on?
It's official, all Rons are fucking useless.
[woman] Ow! Ow!
It hurts! It hurts!
[chuckles] OK, too bad.
Now, the best time is still seven seconds.
Can anybody beat seven seconds and steal this jackpot?
I have a new plan.
I guess all those stories we've heard about you being a hothead
were wrong, Hopkins. Turns out you're just a big old teddy bear.
Coach Hopkins.
That was one of the greatest speeches I've heard in a very long time.
How would you like to be my featured guest tonight?
-You... Me? -That's right.
I wanna put you, Coach, in the Eye of the Storm.
It's the most popular segment of Storm on Sports,
formerly known as the Storm Surge,
and not to be confused with Riders on the Storm,
my hit podcast you can download today.
Wow! A TV show and a podcast?
Is there anything you can't do?
[sighs] Yeah. Please a woman.
You can barely see the chalk outline.
Let's fill this baby up before the tankinis get here.
Goddamn it. What'd I tell y'all? Soap is the devil's syrup.
Jeez Louise!
Now they're gonna think we wanna take a bubble bath.
That's not cool at all.
This isn't what it looks like.
What this looks like is a foam party!
How did you know we love foam?
This is so rad. We gotta get everybody down here.
There's more of you?
Oh, beautiful!
Tie-dye tankinis.
Yeah.
Still gay.
This is all riding on you riding that bull, babe.
Don't call me babe.
[fast rock music playing]
Oh, yeah! [chuckles]
[applause]
Yes! [laughs]
Look at her doing that! That's how she likes to fuck a bull!
[Ben] That's my wife!
That's my wife!
You've got this!
Ladies and gentlemen, we have a new winner and a brand new record!
Ha! You've still got it!
[wistful music playing]
[music stops]
Congratulations, ma'am.
That was some of the finest mechanical bull riding I ever seen.
Just give us the jackpot.
Are you fucking kidding me?
And $200!
Thank God! I was about to lose my mind.
In gift certificates, only acceptable here.
Oh, you fucking piece of shit!
[funky music playing]
This party is amazing!
Might be time to cut the foam off though.
I'm starting to lose sight of some of these tankinis.
Yeah, my eyes are starting to burn.
My rashes are starting to get rashes.
It's probably because your foam is from industrial-grade cleaning supplies.
Ow!
It really stings!
I can't see!
It's burning my eyes.
Now I'm blind and fat!
[kid] Oh, it burns!
It was supposed to be the perfect plan.
Now we're all gonna die!
[music playing through headphones]
[TV jingle plays]
We are here with the man of the hour, Ben Hopkins.
Now, Coach Hopkins, give us the full storm report.
When your kids are storming the court,
how do you make sure your ego doesn't steal their thunder
as you create the perfect storm?
Are you the weatherman?
[TV jingle plays]
Ugh! What a fucking mess.
Maybe we can still make it in time for you to coach the game.
Ah, who even cares anymore?
The game wasn't even the point.
Well, then what was the point?
This was gonna be my chance to be taken seriously.
I know what people think of me as a coach,
but... but this tournament could have changed all that.
Hobnobbing with other top coaches.
Meeting Bobby Knight.
Getting pounds of free shrimp.
I'm sorry we didn't get you there.
Ah, well, I'm sorry we didn't get you there.
But tonight was kind of nice, huh?
What is this?
It's your birthday present, Shan.
I was gonna give it to you when we got to Cincinnati.
It's the only thing I knew you wanted from me.
Anyway, I gotta go drain the lizard.
Psst! The lizard is my dick.
[melancholy music playing]
He signed them.
[grunts]
Ben, I'm so confused.
It's not that confusing.
The lizard is my dick. The drain is my piss.
Therefore, draining the lizard is taking a piss.
-No. You signed the divorce papers. -Yeah. I know that's all you wanted. I...
[both moaning]
It, uh... It unzips in the back.
Ugh!
[Shannon moaning]
[Shannon] Kernel Sanders!
This is actually a Kernel Sanders costume?
Yes. I've always just thought it was a really cool look.
-How did you even get into this? -It's a process. Kirk was a big help.
[Ben grunting and chuckling]
There we are.
Now, do you need help getting undressed?
No, I wear normal clothes.
-[Shannon moaning] -Oh!
Oh, yeah.
-[Ben] Oh, my God! -[moaning]
♪ Shannon and Coach are having sex ♪
♪ No, we ain't gonna show it ♪
♪ At least not yet ♪
♪ The show's got too much class ♪
♪ So for right now ♪
♪ Here's a picture of an ass ♪
♪ Shannon and Coach are making love ♪
♪ They're doing it with passion ♪
♪ I tell you what ♪
♪ We ain't gonna show 'em doing the deed ♪
♪ But we promise you that ♪
♪ They're varying the speed ♪
♪ Coach's hands on Shannon's back ♪
♪ Here's a quick flash Of a vaginal crack ♪
♪ No, we don't wanna show her nude ♪
♪ Want women to watch this ♪
♪ Not just dudes ♪
-[rattling] -♪ Didn't wanna show you the humping ♪
♪ Much too gross ♪
♪ So I thought of something ♪
♪ Said why don't I just sing it? ♪
♪ It's classier ♪
♪ Than a vag with a dick in it ♪
I understand.
I'm very sorry we ruined your pool
and contaminated your crime scene.
But when has DNA ever closed a case anyway?
There goes the best goddamn bull rider I ever seen.
Hoo!
Daddy, I am drunk!
What the hell happened?
I was you, Opal was Shannon, and the tournament got canceled.
On account of all the players on all the teams
gettin' severe chemical burns.
[grunts] I saw 17 tankinis.
I'm sorry I pretended to be you, Coach.
I stole your thunder.
That's a phrase I learned from Phil Storm.
Anyway, I took something that was supposed to be yours.
A friend doesn't do that to another friend.
-I hope you can forgive me. -[violin playing]
Could you shut the fuck up?
Sorry. I'm still technically on the clock.
♪ My home is in Kentucky ♪
♪ And that is where I'll die ♪
♪ I hope it's soon ♪
♪ 'Cause I presume ♪
♪ It's all a waste of time ♪