Original subtitles

[instrumental music]

[theme song]

? Waynehead Waynehead the party is just begun ?

? Waynehead Waynehead That's the 411 for fun ?

? Hey ho hey ho hey ho ?

? Waynehead Waynehead the party's just begun ?

? Waynehead Waynehead That's the 411 for fun ?

? Hey ho hey ho hey ho ?

? Wah wah wah wah wah ??

Hi!

? Waynehead Waynehead ?

? Yo yo yo ?

? Waynehead Waynehead the party's just begun ?

? Waynehead Waynehead that's the 411 for fun ?

? Hey ho hey ho hey ho ?

? Waynehead ?

[instrumental music]

Aki, go long.

Waynehead, you and Tripod, block.

The same lame play every time, Marvin.

How come I can't go long?

Yo, yo, yo, 'cuz you got butterfingers.

It's because of my shoe, huh?

[barking]

Stop bugging!

Now, be a co-operative brother and block.

[sighs]

[barking]

Okay! Get ready for Aki to go long again.

I'll show him butterfingers.

Hike!

[barks]

[growls]

[whimpers]

That is mine!

thud

Whoa. Oh. Whoa, whoa. Oh, whoa. Ah.

thud

[laughing]

Yo! Football head can't catch a football.

[laughing]

Man, I had something in my eye.

[growling]

Where did you get the scrawny lame mutt?

Yo! Tripod isn't lame.

Hey, Skinny. Let's have the dogs squab.

Tripod doesn't squab.

What's up? You afraid he's gonna get beat down? Ha-ha.

Pak-pakak-pak! Chicken! Hot chicken!

'Put you in a pan, you'd be fried chicken. Ha!'

No! We'll show you chicken!

Skateboard chicken!

The Mission Market Alley. 3 o'clock.

[indistinct chatter]

[gulps]

[instrumental music]

I hate to tell you this, Tripod, but because you're missing a paw

you're always gonna have to prove yourself.

But, we'll show these chumps!

Now, lookie here! The rules are as follows.

Waynehead and Skinny are each gonna ride a skateboard

pulled by their dogs down the alleyway!

The first one to let go of his leash before reaching

the gate to the street traffic is a chicken!

[clucking]

Chill, Toof, we get it!

Wolfy, let's kick some butt!

Get on your marks!

Get ready!

Get set and..

Go!

[cheering]

[indistinct]

[screaming]

[sighs]

[screaming]

[whimpers]

[tires screeching]

[screaming]

Fool!

[growling]

[indistinct chatter]

Run, Tripod! Run!

[car honking]

I sure do have more money in the register

since I stopped paying off the mob.

[whimpering]

[growls]

Ay!

[indistinct chatter]

Oy vey! Don't shoot! Don't shoot! I'll pay!

[whimpering]

[growling]

thud

Hey! Just a minute! That three legged mutt caused this ruckus.

I am suing. That dog owes me 250 million dollars.

No, Mr. Katzenberg. It wasn't Tripod.

It was the St. Mary's boy's dog.

You're just blaming this on Tripod

because he's missing a paw.

Young man, a nice Catholic dog would never be involved

in anything like this.

Now give me that mutt

so I can have the dog catcher put it to sleep.

Run! Tripod, run!

You can't hide! I'm calling the dog catcher!

That dog is history, sonny boy!

Don't worry, Tripod! I'm gonna save you. I promise!

[instrumental music]

Yo! I'm gonna get you off the street

away from that dog catcher. Wait here.

Sure you can have a dog, soldier!

As long it ain't that mutt running around the neighbourhood

with three legs.

[sighs]

That dog look like it has fleas, bad breath

and some sort of liver diseaase.

[coughing]

So you can't stay

'cuz you've only got three legs, huh?

Well, I can fix that.

Yeah, Tripod, sometimes I'm so smart, I scare myself.

There you go, little guy. Good as new!

[squeaking]

[sighs]

That's it!

Mama, dad, I got us a new pet!

His name is, uh, Pod!

What's that on his leg, baby?

It's like his big shoe!

He, uh, kinda has the same foot problem that I have.

[buzzing]

[screaming]

[coughing]

[crying]

[laughing]

[glass shattering]

[whimpering]

[crashing]

[crying]

Yeah, he just needs to be house broken.

(Mr. Wayne) 'Boy! I want that flea-bitten excuse for a dog'

'out of this apartment pronto!'

That crazy thing needs to be locked up!

[instrumental music]

Sorry about my family turning on you like that, Tripod.

But don't sweat it, man! We just gotta stay calm.

You know what I am saying?

Hey there, partner! Nice pooch!

The dog catcher!

Quick, Tripod! This way!

Cowboy! You gon' need some extra legs to outrun me, huh!

[grunting]

[whimpering]

[grunting]

[screaming]

Yeah, boy! We outta here!

I know where you live!

And by golly, I'll get you!

And your little side wind of a dog too! Ha-ha!

Damey baby, we would love to keep him

but I'm having a real fancy dinner party tonight.

Valet parking, snails on a platter, baby.

And Shaquille O'Neal and Al Sharpton are coming in

bringing the dessert. So, I gotta go.

Tripod looks like a member of the oppresed class to me, boy.

Do you know what kind of weapons I need to defend this dog

against a psycho terrorist or disgruntled postal worker, huh?

How am I supposed to get my hands on tanks

and heat-seeking missiles with this kind of short notice, huh?

[instrumental music]

Damn! That's whack, man!

Toof's grandma and Mo's parents had lame excuses too.

What's the matter with everybody?

[whimpering]

? I am missing six teeth ?

? And it's hard to chew ?

? Got one thing left though ?

? It's called the blues ?

[coughing]

Dang tobbaco company!

[coughing]

Boy, you got a problem?

How do you know I had a problem?

I'm blind, I sing the blues.

What other credential do I need?

Whoo!

So, now, Tripod's a fugitive.

(male #1) Hey, I'm walking here.

Everyone's agains't Tripod because he's missing a paw.

I can see it all clearly now.

I can see that sometimes, you ain't got nothing to do

with the way people treat you.

The shoe?

All I am saying is

you got nothing to prove, little brother.

Ow!

This is about Tripod, not me.

Have it your way, but let me tell you one thing.

If Tripod continued to play the paw card

he'll always have to prove himself.

But they make fun of his paw.

Excuses, excuses. It's like my blindness.

I don't let that stop me. I just walk around the problems. Oh!

Blues man, you make a lot of sense.

Huh?

Looks like you boys have plain run out of luck.

Tripod, run!

[whimpering]

Stay cool, Tripod. I'll think of something.

[growling]

[coughing]

[whimpering]

[instrumental music]

[thunder rumbling]

[whimpering]

[barking]

Poor Tripod!

The dog catcher swooped on him

and now he is on permanent lockdown.

Hey, that dog is good as dead!

Yo, pour a little root beer out for Tripod.

Tripod's not dead yet!

We just gotta think of a way to get him out of the pound!

Knuckleheads! We break him out!

First, we hack into a secret computer system

and steal the blueprints to the pound.

'Then we send a way for explosives'

from an extremist group in the midwest.

And we risk our lives securing a rocket launcher from the CIA.

And then we blast the whole pound to powder

and airlift Tripod to freedom with a big old helicopter

we hijack when the president ain't using it.

Or we could get in by walking through the front door.

- Just checking out the dogs. - Okay.

[bell rings]

[whistling]

Okay, the coast is clear. Move out!

[snoring]

Wake up, knuckleheads!

[indistinct chatter]

[sniffing]

Ah! I love the smell of dog in the evening.

Yo! There's Tripod!

[barking]

Tripod! We're gonna bust you out.

[barking]

It looks like he's been tortured.

You're right! They cut off one of his little legs!

[rattling]

It's locked!

Yo, yo, yo! Don't even sweat it. Our problems are solved.

[alarm buzzing]

Let's get you to safety, boy.

Yo! We in trouble!

Huh?

[barking]

[screaming]

- Mommy! - Run for your life!

- Retreat. - This is great!

[barking]

Overtime again? I loves working late!

What the..

You and that three-legged mutt!

You're both mad!

[barking]

We gotta split up, everybody go in different directions.

Tripod, I think we lost the dog catcher.

We're safe now.

Well, well, well!

It's butterfingers and his bubble eyed dog.

I know, how about we tie Wolfy and bubble-eyes

together by the neck.

They fight and whoever's left alive

is the baddest dog.

[growling]

Please, I ain't got time for you.

Tripod and I got nothing to prove.

I'm a better brother than that.

Dang, Skinny, he broke on you.

Hmph!

Man, you a chump. 'Cuz I ain't got time for you either.

Talking all kinds of nonsense. You lucky we gotta roll.

Wow! Blues Man was right.

Even though you have three legs and I've got a big shoe

we don't have to prove anything.

I guess it doesn't matter if we're diffrent.

'Cuz when you look at it, everybody's different.

And the good thing is a lot of the time nobody really cares.

Gotcha! Oh, boy!

Mr. Katzenberg, no!

Let Tripod go!

Yep, right into my hands.

[whimpering]

No! Let him go!

It's lights out for this Hombre.

This is it, Tripod.

We could have been a team.

But now, you're dog meat.

[whimpering]

But you ain't gonna go out like a sucker.

You going out like a pedigree, alright?

[whimpering] Woof!

Sonny boy, your little mutt isn't going to die.

- He is not? - He is not?

Of course not!

He wasn't the dog that caused all that commotion in my store.

But you said he was the guilty critter.

Yes, but my security camera taped what happened that day.

Here, look, this shows who the real culprit is.

'Oops! That was my sister-in-law from new Rochelle.'

'Curse me, that you don't wanna see.'

'It was the paw prints that made me suspicious.'

Look at the tape, the dog in the video left four paw prints.

I just want to apologize to Tripod for accusing him.

I am sorry, little mutt, with your three legs.

[whimpering]

Just hold it right there, buckaroo!

He belongs in the pound.

He's a homeless flea-bitten stray.

What are you talking? He's not homeless.

I'm gonna keep the little guy myself.

[blowing raspberry]

Dang, Mr. Katzenberg. This is all good.

I misjudged you.

Yeah, well, we all misjudge people sometimes.

Like the dogcatcher thinking this little fella had fleas.

[laughing]

At least you have a home now.

But dang, Tripod! You do have fleas!

[scratching]

[theme music]

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