This show brings you a glimpse into lives of residents in Sunnyvale Trailer Park. It’s packed with odd humor and vibrant characters. You get to see daily ups and downs of people on society’s edge. Fans adore its mix of laughs, drama and sharp commentary. It’s a wild ride for sure!

Meet the characters from Trailer Park Boys

Ricky

Ricky is a walking chaos machine with a heart the size of the park—loud, proud, and constantly inventing half-baked schemes that somehow mostly sort of work. He talks in those glorious Ricky-isms (like grammar took a holiday) and has a weird encyclopedic knowledge of weed laws but will swear he can’t read a book. He’s stubborn, fiercely loyal to his friends, and will always choose a dumb shortcut if it means keeping the crew together. Also, inexplicably obsessed with roses sometimes? And honestly, he cries at the oddest moments — tough guy, soft center.

Bubbles

Bubbles is the soft-eyed genius who hoards cats and spare parts and somehow can build a car out of duct tape and love. He’s kind to everyone, emotionally transparent in the best way, and will defend his friends like an angry mama cat, which is adorable and terrifying. He wears those giant glasses like a crown and cries during commercials (every time), but can also dismantle a transmission while humming a lullaby. He contradicts himself a lot — tender but fierce, childlike yet strangely worldly — and yes, he probably has twelve jars of buttons and a secret stash of jam.

Mr. Lahey

Lahey is the gloriously tragic, alcoholic park supervisor whose monologues are poetic and unhinged in roughly equal measure; he’s beautiful chaos wrapped in a rum-soaked trench coat. He obsesses over order but is allergic to it, falling into spectacular, Shakespearean meltdowns against Ricky and the boys. His relationship with Randy is this messy, intense soap-opera-adjacent thing and he’ll quote something deep one minute and yell about golf balls the next. He claims to be sober sometimes (lol), and also, inexplicably, seems to think every pigeon is out to get him—classic Lahey.

J-Roc

J-Roc is the hilarious self-styled rapper whose swagger is enormous and slightly confused but entirely committed; he raps about being “real” while living in the park and taking care of his family. He’s flashy, funny, and constantly performing — stage name, gold chains, dramatic hand gestures — but he’s also loyal and weirdly domestic under that bravado. He’ll drop a one-liner that kills you and then quietly help someone move a couch five minutes later. Occasionally forgets which accent he’s doing and will passionately defend hood culture while mowing a lawn; it’s complicated and absolutely endearing.

Julian

Julian is the calm mastermind: always holds a rum and coke like a security blanket, thinks three steps ahead, and somehow looks cool while being the glue of the crew. He’s pragmatic, no-nonsense, and gets things done — organized crime with detachable charm, basically — but there’s a warm, protective streak that sneaks out when his friends are in trouble. He hates drama but will start 90% of it just by offering a plan, and he’s suspiciously into neatness (don’t touch his drink). Also, he probably has an emergency plan for literally everything; I mean everything.

Randy

Randy is gloriously shirtless, emotionally frank, and obsessed with cheeseburgers like it’s a spiritual practice; he’s a walking meme in the best possible way. He’s Lahey’s partner-in-crime/love/chaos and somehow the most honest liar you’ll meet — he says weird things with total conviction and means most of them. Protective of the park, oddly fashion-averse (why shirts?), and surprisingly sensitive about his body image. He cries during documentaries but will also fight a raccoon if it stares at his food — proud and ridiculous.

Ray

Ray is the loud, blustering neighbor who thinks intimidation is a hobby and failing is never an option (until it is). He’s gruff, quickly angered, and genuinely believes he’s the toughest guy on the block, which leads to many, many regrettable choices. Deep down he has a soft spot for the town (and sometimes puppies?) and will come through when the chips are down, just while grunting about it. Also, he’s probably got a conspiracy theory about why his truck keeps getting keyed and he’ll tell you—at length.

Cyrus

Cyrus (the Virus) is sleek, sinister-looking, and an expert at smiling while stabbing you in the back — small-time mastermind vibes with big-time creep energy. He’s slippery, ambitious, and the kind of guy who will betray you for a sandwich and then offer to help fix your roof later like nothing happened. He keeps weird little trophies, hoards sunglasses, and talks about loyalty in the tone of someone who’s clearly never read the dictionary definition. Uneasy, unnerving, and yet weirdly charismatic if you’re into that sort of danger.

Cory

Cory is the earnest sidekick who’s perpetually excited about dumb plans and bangs heads with Trevor about literally everything; he’s simple, loyal, and gloriously dim in the most charming way. He follows Ricky like a compass needle and seems to have one brain cell left, but it’s a dedicated cell. Cory loves fireworks, pizza, and telling stories that get more exaggerated every telling — he’s the kind of guy who remembers a party like it happened last week when it was three years ago. Also, he might cry if you mention a playlist — emotional, confusing, lovable.

Trevor

Trevor is Cory’s partner-in-chaos: laid-back, kind of lazy, but will absolutely help move a car if you ask nicely (or promise snacks). He’s goofy, gives bad advice with total confidence, and has an almost philosophical commitment to avoiding responsibility. Trevor laughs too loud, naps in weird places, and is inexplicably philosophical about ice cream flavors. He’s not clever, but he’s reliably on your side — until there’s a chance for nachos, at which point priorities shift and frankly who can blame him.