Supercon

Subtitles by explosiveskull

Hi-yo, you NerdGasmics, nerd-a-maniacs,

tuning into our podcast...

For the win!

As always, this is your boy Hot Rob and the Seanster.

We're coming to you live from our fucking bat cave, yo.

Ground zero.

It's our Area 51, yo.

You can't even see this, it's so secret.

It's so super secret. Supercon's this weekend.

It's gonna be in Westwego, Louisiana.

It's gonna be really magical.

We're gonna have great guests on the show.

All of your favorite stars from TV, film, comics.

Live from Supercon

with our very own Supercon special edition podcast.

We're gonna be coming to you live

from the cockpit of the shuttle craft,

so come and see us at Supercon at Westwego.

You'll get to see us, your boy Hot Rob

and the Seanster.

For the win!

(OVER PHONE) You have new messages.

This call is for Mr. Mahar.

This is Lavar Apartments. This is Rodney.

You're behind on your rent, sir.

Please give me a call back immediately

to avoid getting evicted.

Next message.

Hi, Mr. Mahar. This is Cindy.

I work for Supercon owner and promoter Mr. Gil Bartell.

He wanted me and remind you how important it is that you wear...

Oh, it says here a turban from your show Tex Johnson.

Mr. Bartell says you have to wear it

or no one at the Con will recognize you

from when you were a kid.

Thanks so much and have a great Con. Bye.

Third message.

Mr. Mahar, this is your soon-to-be ex-wife's attorney.

I've made many attempts to get a hold of you in regard to Bob.

Please call me back immediately to resolve this matter.

Better yet, have your attorney call me

because if you haven't obtained an attorney, you're gonna need a good one.

Fourth message.

Princess, it's Wheeler. Where you at?

I'm at weapons check, waiting for your fat ass.

Oh, Rob and Sean want us to do their podcast in their shuttle craft

I know that gives you a boner. Hit me up, buddy boy.

Oh, God.

I think you've lost weight.

Last time I saw you, I don't know if you were this size,

which is not to say that you didn't look good back then.

You look good now. You look good all the time.

You need anything at all,

you just find one of us red shirts.

Take care now. Don't hurt nobody.

Okay, all right, bye.

Sir, this is only for VIP guests.

I am a VIP guest.

Tex Johnson, US marshal.

Can you be a doll, Tammy, and help out Mr. Larry Long-face?

OMG. You're Matt Wheeler.

You can call me Wheels.

Oh, my roommate's gonna freak out.

- Let her freak. - Mmm!

I love Hiccup and Stringy. It's my total fave.

I'll do it for you, but only if you do the Stringy voice.

Hey, gorgeous!

Are you a parking ticket?

'Cause you got "fine" written all over you.

Oh, Stringy!

Deal's a deal.

- Now, what's your name? - Steven Spielberg.

Maybe I should try looking under "Douchebag."

I think Gil would probably want you to move Keith

next to my table right here.

Can we do a little something about that?

Yeah.

- Great. - (DISTANT ENGINE REVVING)

What the fuck was that?

That's the sound a little dick makes.

I have a little dick, and it doesn't make any noise.

I have a big dick, and it makes lots of noise.

- Mm-hmm! - (ENGINE REVVING)

Did you hear that? You heard that.

Hey, I recognize you, handsome devil, huh?

Ah, get your pictures now. There ya go.

Sure, sure, just a couple of free ones here.

75 bucks at my table.

Ah, this pen doesn't work. Sorry.

Hey, come on. Easy, no touching.

- Hide me, hide me. - What?

Fucking cocksucker's here.

You are the fucking smallest guy here,

and I have to use you to cover me.

Is that Keith Mahar?

- Right there. - Hey.

Hey, everybody, look.

It's Hadji, my costar from Tex Johnson.

- (APPLAUSE) - Keith. My name is Keith.

Sure it is. Just busting balls.

Hey, speaking of balls, how they hanging?

- (LAUGHTER) - Fucking prick.

Can I get a photo with you guys?

Sure, sure, anything for the fans, right, Keith?

- Yeah. - Sure, sure, come on.

Oh, okay, okay.

Here, get my good side.

Go, good.

All right, smile.

And...

Fucking dick pic.

Ah, that's not bad. You missed your calling.

You should've been a photographer, Hadji.

Hey, well, you know. - All right.

- Catch ya later, Hadj. - Yeah, great.

Hope you catch something later, you fuck.

- Move, move, move, move. - I bet you him and her

stand beside each other at the urinal.

Where the fucking hat I bought you? Where's the hat?

Nobody knows who the fuck you are without the hat on your head.

I believe the appropriate term is "turban."

Okay, turban, the jihabi,

the Pamper you was wearing on your fucking head.

A jibjab rag, a diaper, where's the fucking hat?

- Um... - You know this guy?

Harold? Kumar?

I'm not fucking either of those people.

Callahan. This is my head of security,

and this is my brother-in-law,

and I'm gonna let him loose on your ass

if you rearrange my seating again.

I don't play that shit.

Get Jay on the phone. Motherfucker!

Can't even move fast enough to fucking scare me.

Osama bin fucking eating.

- Seriously? - Yeah, dude.

She left me for her fucking personal trainer.

I should've known something was up.

She would go to the gym in high heels.

Who works out in high heels?

Staying fat wasn't a clue?

She filed for divorce, emptied the bank account,

kicked me out of the apartment.

Can't you get spousal support or something?

Yeah, I would need a lawyer for that,

and I'm already paying for the fucking lawyer she hired

to divorce me.

She's what they call "a cunt burger."

Ooh, I've had one of those before.

Yep, I told you that wench was bad news.

You're an asshole. You fucking introduced me to her.

In Vegas, baby.

- Didn't you shit your pants? - It was a shart.

Motherf...

Good.

- Controller's busted. - Round two.

Go home, old man, you suck!

Really?

I've seen a naked woman.

In real life.

Oh, mike drop.

I didn't tell you the worst part.

What's that?

She took Bob.

She fucking took Bob?

She stole my dog.

What kind of a person steals a man's dog?

An animal.

Yeah. She didn't even like the fucking dog.

And she ties him up in the apartment all day.

Now I'm in a custody battle over some shit I can't even afford.

And what was your name again?

You know, I can't believe your Con agent let you go out

looking like a special-needs M. Night Shyamalan.

Look at this.

Yo, check it out. Ms. Lily's here.

Mmm.

You know sometimes when I'm drunk, I do two things...

Watch Ms. Lily's Classroom,

and then I jerk off while watching Ms. Lily's Classroom.

Not to the classroom part. Just Ms. Lily.

I'm not a fucking creep. Kinda wanna jerk off right now.

Why don't you take that glorious headshot over?

Oh, yeah, this is what she wants.

An unemployed former child actor

whose life resembles a pile of dog shit.

Hey, Wheeler, where's Hiccup this weekend, man?

Rehab.

- Hey, who are you? - Keith Mahar.

I was on Tex Johnson.

Was that Keith Mahar?

Testicular cancer ring a bell?

- Oh, my God. - You're the ball cancer kid!

Hey, everybody, it's the ball cancer kid! Hey!

Mommy, I got ball cancer!

Oh, geez.

Fuck me. I thought you were dead.

Nope, didn't actually have testicular cancer,

therefore didn't die.