Original subtitles

And now, here they are, the most daredevil group of daffy drivers to ever

whirl their wheels in the wacky races, competing for the title of the world's

wackiest racer. The cars are approaching the starting line. First is the turbo

terrific driven by Peter Perfect.

Next, Rufus Roughcutt and Sawtooth in the Buzzwagon.

Maneuvering for position is the Army Surplus Special. Right behind is the Ant

Hill Mob in their bulletproof bombs.

And there's Ingenious Inventor, hat pending in his converter car.

Oh, and here's the lovely Penelope Pitstop, the glamour gal of the gas

pedal. Next, we have the motor mobile with the slide rubbers, rock and gravel.

Lurching along is the creepy troop with the gruesome susum. And right on their

tail is the red sax.

And there's the Arkansas Chugabug with Root and Blubber Bear.

Sneaking along last is that mean machine with those double-dealing dew batters,

Nick Dastardly and his sidekick, Buckley.

And even now, they're up to some dirty trick, and they're off to a standing

start. And why not?

They've been chained to a post by shifty dictators who fit into the wrong gear.

And away they go on the way out wacky races.

Today, the wacky racers are grinding their way southward to the finish line

at Zippy, Mississippi.

And leading the field by a mile is Dick Dastardly.

Yes, and I'm far enough ahead to drop the others out of the race.

Hurry,

Muddy, hurry.

Here they come. And when they drive over that hole, I'll be the only

one left in the race.

Hey, what went wrong?

Drat.

Double drat. Triple drat.

Blast the luck. It doesn't work.

Setting a sizzling pace along the levee, the surplus six is now in front, but the

anthill mob in car number seven shifts into getaway gear and surges ahead.

Thanks, fellas.

Get it? Thanks.

Hey, Sarge, I can't see.

My hat flew off, ding-a-ling. Stop the car.

Thanks.

Hey!

Step on it, Meekly.

Step on it.

All right, you guys.

Hold on tight.

Come on, come on. Make with the footway.

And here is pretty Penelope Pitstop peacefully parrying along in third

place. The Slag Brothers are rocking along in fourth place.

And Professor Pat Pending in the converter car is looking for a way to

get past them.

How about that? The professor's changed the converter car into a forklift.

What's this?

Gravel's making a boomerang out of his club!

While the other

cars maneuver for positions, Big Dastardly has shifted Double Zero into

hydrofoil drives.

and is skimming down the Mississippi toward the finish line.

It's like having the road all to ourselves.

Right, Muttley?

Curses! Hydra foiled again!

Faster, Muttley! Faster!

Red Max, who is trailing the field, makes his move to pass Rufus

Ruff.

I'll fly, Roy!

I'll cut him down with my left rear tire.

Uh-oh.

Looks like Dick Dastardly is up to no good.

On the contrary.

I'm going to give the rest of the races a rest.

In midstream, that is.

Hey, Sarge, the sign says this way.

Must be some kind of detour.

Let's go.

Here they come, McGee. Jock.

Bon voyage, everybody.

Oh, dear.

I think we all have been Shanghai.

With the other cars adrift, Dick dastardly delights in the devilish deed

he has done.

It would be lonesome at the finish line, Muttley. No one would be there but us.

What's that?

Faster, you smugs.

Faster.

Drack the luck.

Foiled by the fancy footwork of the anthill mob.

As the wacky racer streaks south past the halfway mark, the creepy coot has

captured the lead from the surplus six, and Sarge shifts into landmine power.

Power one!

Penelope Pitstop is in third place, but the Arkansas Chugabug pulls past her.

Ooh, what of all the nerves?

The Ant Hill Mob is fifth.

The Crimson Hay Bailer is sixth. And close behind is Professor Pat Pending's

converter car. It's converting into a jet pack.

And now Pat Pending is jetting ahead to take the lead.

Meanwhile, Dick Dastardly is developing another despicable deed to delay the

other cars.

Take a look and see who's shooting at us, Muttley.

Just my luck to have a chicken dog.

I'm Colonel Cornbone, sir, and I want to know what a cotton-picking Yankee

carpetbagger is doing on my plantation.

Well, wait.

Doggone, I sure enough am glad to meet you all, Colonel Cornphone.

I'm from the deep south myself, and there's a whole passel of Yankees

chasing me.

Look yonder. They're coming now.

No Yankees are going to trespass on my land.

Come back and fight, you coward!

Sorry, Colonel. I just remembered I'm double-parked.

Hold on there, sir.

Aren't you ashamed of yourself shooting at our little old wacky race cars?

Race cars?

I thought my plantation was being invaded by Yankees. Why, Colonel, do I

sound like a little old Yankee to you all?

No, ma'am, you sure don't.

Thank you, Colonel.

You all can invade my plantation any time.

that wacky race.

As the car's near the finish line, Dick Dastardly has the commanding lead.

I mean lead.

We've stopped much, eh? What's wrong?

The army surplus six is in second place, but Peter Perfect is coming up fast.

Curses! That Colonel Corn Pone shut holes in our gas tank.

Motley, you plug up the holes. I'll go and get some gas.

Yikes!

Drat! Drat!

Foil by a flattened fuel can.

We'll never win the race now.

Oh, that was a tough break for Peter Perfect as the anthill mob takes the

lead away from him.

But Peter Perfect noses them out and wins by a stretch in the home stretch.

Car number seven is second and Penelope Pitstop is third.

of that crowd applaud.

Oh, Peter Perfect is turbo terrific, our mighty popular.