Original subtitles

? He's dynamite ?

? So dynamite ?

? Ooohhh, ooohhh ?

? Ooohhh ?

? Ahhhh ?

? He's dynamite ?

? Dy-no, dy-no ?

? Ooohhh, ooohhh ?

? Oooohhhh ?

? Dynamite! Dynamite! ?

This week...

Ladies and gentlemen, this is Howard Cosell.

Today we explore the phenomenon

that is Race War I,

billed as the race to end all races,

for the races and by the races.

Is it racist? You better believe it is.

I'm told we can expect to see

every color of people in the rainbow ...

the Blacks, the browns, the whites,

the reds, the purple, and yellows.

- Hey! What about the negroes? - Negro, hush!

Racing from Los Angeles to New York City.

The prize ... a superior race trophy,

as well as bragging rights to being the official race

of the upcoming Olympic games in Munich.

Finally a way to show everyone in town

that the Black race is the baddest motherfuckers around.

Black Dynamite's been racing against the man

his whole life, and it ain't never been televised.

- This sounds ridiculous. - I don't know.

"The Black Superior Race" does got a nice ring to it.

I mean, if somebody from the Black race wins,

they will be on the cover of magazines, newspapers,

and even the Wheaties box.

Imagine eating some Black Wheaties!

"Black Wheaties"? Ha Ha! Come on!

I'm with Black Dynamite. That sounds stupid.

Ain't that right, Black Dynamite? Ha ha!

Not necessarily.

Being on the Wheaties box might be just the thing

Black Dynamite needs to put the man away

once and for all ... and with a trophy to prove it.

Racer Rex, the Caucasian for the occasion.

You are representing

the genetically inferior white man in America

who has stolen practically everything in this country,

including this country.

Do you think you can steal this race, too?

Well, Howard, the white man will do

whatever it takes to win.

I will lie, cheat, and steal my way

all across that goddamn finish line

just like we've done for thousands of years.

And if you don't believe me, just check the history.

Are you worried that you might lose your title

to a darker competitor, such as the Blacks?

Hell, no, Howard.

The Black are too busy hanging out in Roscoe's all day

eating chicken and watching television.

Mmm! Somebody need to teach that racist cracker a lesson!

And everybody loves chicken!

We need a Black man that can drive a car fast

and whup some ass!

Somebody that the Black community can depend on!

Somebody who's super bad and out-of-sight,

Black and dynamite.

I don't know about y'all, but I'm drawing a blank.

Who could we get?

You know anybody Black, Black Dynamite?

What about a young Bill Cosby? Ooh! Or Sidney Poitier?

That's it! I went to school with Sidney Poitier.

I'll go call him.

Or little Stevie Wonder might do just fine.

No, wait, never mind, I just remembered

the motherfucker's blind.

Ooh, what about Billy Dee Williams with his fine ass?

CREAM CORN: Oh, yes! That'll be perfect.

I got an idea ... how about y'all stop acting

like Black Dynamite ain't sitting here

listening to you call out all these old, blind, weak,

Colt 49, malt-liquor-drinking motherfuckers

when you know I'm the only one in the damn race

that can win the race farhis race?

Uhh, never mind, Sidney Poitier.

Black Dynamite it is.

[all cheering]

[engine revs]

[tires screech]

[gun cocks]

Black Dynamite.

C.I.A. operative and third-generation inventor

George Washington Carver III, A.K.A. "G"?

What are you doing here?

Well, I was on my way to Roscoe's to get some

peanut butter brittle and chicken gizzards, but then

I heard on the radio you was racing in The Race War.

WOMAN'S VOICE: Ooh, mm-hmm.

You remember your old partner, don't you?

Eartha K-I-double-T, is that you, baby? You look ...

Purr-fect, yes, I know, I know.

I have to admit I'm pretty excited

to get you back inside me.

I see this KITT still purrs like a pussycat.

Oh, this pussy roars now, Black Dynamite.

CARVER: Go ahead, get in. Pop that transmission.

[engine revs, tires squeal]

[engine roars]

Mm-hmm, Black Dynamite.

That was just the tip, baby. Just the tip.

Uh-huh. You like that, don't you?

[laughs] She got that new and improved good power

She is now fully equipped with everything you need.

Machine guns...

surface-to-air missiles...

and she squirts.

[tires screech]

[metal crashes]

I'm telling you, Black Dynamite, the bitch is bad.

And not "bad" meaning bad, but "bad" meaning "good."

George Washington Carver III,

you are one scientific motherfucker.

[control panel beeps]

Agent Carver. It's Agent Dennis Flynn.

I can see you, motherfucker. Go ahead.

I have an update on code: missing menthol

Y'all found my shit?

Of course not, but our intel suggests

it is most likely an inside or outside job.

But no definitive word either way yet.

What kind of intel is that? Get the fuck out my car!

Code ... Missing Menthol "X"?

Sounds like some top-secret heavy, G.

Well, I developed a series of secret menthol derivatives,

and the 10th one is called Menthol

Menthol "X" is so powerful,

when inhaled, it can be used to control minds.

And it's "exskremely" addictive.

Makes me want to do what you say

just thinking about it ... go on.

Well, somebody stole all of it from my lab,

and I hope we find out who

before it falls in the wrong hands.

Hmm. The Man's hands.

What? Why is everything "The Man" with you, huh?

Uh, Black Dynamite, we should go, baby.

We have a race to win.

Yeah, I should get out of here and let you two be alone.

Good luck, Black Dynamite.

Or, as my great grandaddy said, "Bust a nut."

Solid. And I'll keep my eyes open for that Menthol

Now, before I drop you off, one question, G ...

what's this button do? - Huh.

You know, I'm not really ...

Aaaaah!

I think you're in the wrong line.

The colored line is over yonder.

No, I think you're in the wrong line.

This is the "cracker getting your ass whooped

for fuckin' with Black Dynamite" line.

You really think you the best your race has to offer, boy?

Now, look here, honky doodle dandy.

Black Dynamite used to be a children,

but he ain't never been a boy, can you dig it?

Now, I suggest you shut the fuck up

when grown folks is registering!

Why don't you just go back to your ghetto

with the rest of your race and keep fighting

and complaining about the white man

while we keep kicking your ass?

Go ahead. Hit me, Black Dynamite.

I ain't scared of you, boy!

Hey, hey, guys, save your overt racism for The Race War.

You're gonna get disqualified! Jeez, I spilled my coffee.

REX: I'm begging you, man. Go ahead.

Hit me, Black Dynamite. Hit me.

Heh, heh, this shit's gonna be easier than slavery!

And twice as fun! [laughs]

This is Howard Cosell, and I am here

with the heavyweight champion of the world,

Mr. Muhammad Ali, A.K.A. Cassius Clay.

Mm, Howard Cosell, you keep calling me Clay,

and I'm gonna make it look like your toupee

took a shit between your shoulders.

Very funny, champ, but how do you feel

about the white man being favored to win,

as he most often does?

Howard, as the honorable Elijah Muhammad say,

"The white man's days are over!"

Somebody needs to go ahead and retire his whole race,

or I'm gonna have to do it myself once and for all.

I am the greatest of all time!

Champ, your often-repeated claim of total superiority

has been noted.

There you have it, folks.

A lot of racial pride and tension is riding on this one.

Let's go to the starting line.

First we have the red Chinese, Dr. Wu's Tang Clan.

I don't know much about them,

but something tells me the Wu's Tang Clan

ain't nothing to fuck with.

Next up we have the Japanese.

Take note ... they're exactly like the Chinese,

except the women have sideways vaginae.

And next we have the Native Americans,

A.K.A. "the little Injuns that could."

By the way, "hai-yai-yai-yai, hai-yai-yai-yai, "

translates into, "I'm an alcoholic.

Now, please, take all my land."

And now the Eskimos.

I'm told they have 100 words for snow,

but I only need two words to describe them ...

"frozen wetbacks. "

And finally the real greatest of all time,

white America's favorite racer, Racer Rex!

Howard, you know the only difference

between Racer Rex and a snake?

One's a slimy, venomous, filthy creature,

and the other one's a snake.

Last and certainly not least,

the champ's personal pick,

The Black race's Black racer, Black Dynamite.

I haven't had that much Black in my mouth

since accidentally tripping and falling

face-first onto Rosey Grier's crotch.

Driving the lovely Miss Eartha KITT,

sponsored by Roscoe's Popcorn Shrimp and Twinkies.

Roscoe's ... A negro's gotta eat.

[gong crashes]

BLACK DYNAMITE: Fiendish Dr. Wu.

I'd about forgotten you even had a racer in this race war.

Well, I do, Black Dynamite.

And I would tell you why.

But good storytelling dictates

that I withhold the reveal 'til later

so I could build dramatic tension!

I hope you win! [cackles maniacally]

[cheers and applause]

BULLHORN: Man, this one's for the ghetto,

so put your pedal to the metal.

Ha! Y'all can vote for Black Dynamite if you want,

but since we can't get Sidney P. and Billy Dee,

I'm putting my money on the white boy.

And today's race war is bought to you by McDeviFs,

Murder King, and the Notorious B.l.G. Tobacco,

the official sponsors of Race War I.

Bringing people together by tearing each other apart.

[engines revving]

[engine roars, tires squeal]

Yee-haw!

COSELL: And Racer Rex jumps the gun!

And that's how you start a race war!

ALI: Just like the white man,

cheating and looking for a beating.

KITT: I love it!

Just like old times, huh, baby?

[laughs] It's exactly like old times, except it was

a whole different time and you was a whole different car

and we was never in a race war.

But besides that, it feels exactly the same.

[engine revs]

[funk music plays]

ALI: I'll tell you what ... them Asians never could drive.

COSELL: That's a very racist thing to say

on a very racist day.

Is that all the dynamite you got, boy?

ALI: Oh, he did not' just call him "boy. "

I heard that from up here.

COSELL: They do say you negroes have an extra bone in your leg

and an extra drum in your ear.

KITT: Ooh, I've waited so long for this.

That's what I'm talking about!

Give it to me, baby! Give me everything you've got!

ALI: I'll give you an extra bone, Howard.

COSELL: This is no place for prison threats.

Let's enjoy the race.

[tires screech]

[music continues]

[engine revs, tires screech]

Black Dynamite, what are you doing?

Black Dynamite ain't never lost a game of chicken

in his whole life, and he damn sure ain't gonna lose now,

especially to a white-meat turkey!

You like playing chicken, boy?

I do, too, but, hell, everybody loves chicken!

COSELL: In a game of chicken,

it's certain Black Dynamite will win.

[engines revving]

KITT: Oh, Black Dynamite! Ohh! I can't take it baby!

It's too much!

[engine clanks, whines]

Damn it, KITT!

[tires screech]

REX: Sometimes the white man wins,

and sometimes the white man w-i-i-i-ins!

"Ariva-dirty," Black Dynamito!

? Dynamite! Dynamite! ?

[shouts]

Damn it, KITT, what the hell was that about?

KITT?

Hmm, Eartha K-I-double-T,

you used to purr like a pussycat,

but now you're just a cold, dead pussy.

And there's only one way to jump-start a cold, dead pussy.

And that's with a slow jam

and 1,000 watts of Black Dynamite.

Can you dig it?

[slow-tempo funk music plays]

KITT: Mmm.

? Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh ?

Oh, I never dreamed it could be like this. Ooh.

[drill whirs]

[Purrs, yelps]

Ooh, yeah!

BLACK DYNAMITE: Whose car is this? Whose car is this?

KITT: It's your car, daddy! It's your car!

It's yours, it's yours, it's yours, it's yours!

It's your car, daddy! [screams]

I'm sorry. I didn't mean to let you down.

That's why you left the C.I.A.

It wasn't the honkies, it was me,

wasn't it, Black Dynamite?

Of course it was the honkies, Eartha KITT,

Without you, I couldn't have made it through the C.I.A..

I need you, baby.

Ohh. Oh, Black Dynamite, I love you!

I know you do. Now, let's get back out there

and win this race war for the Black man ...

and the bitches who love him.

[engine turns over, revs]

COSELL: Black is back as Dynamite breaks a way

from the Puerto Ricans.

Puerto Ricans, Mexicans ...

if you're brown-skinned and you can swim,

well, you're a Mexican!

Black Dynamite's back in the race,

and he done returned to grace with steps retraced.

And now he's taking 3rd place,

and soon he'll be telling that no-good peckerwood Racer Rex,

"in your face," with all upper case!

And that shit right there will be his coup de grace!

Disgrace. First base. Space, place, face ...

Sorry to interrupt you, Bullhorn,

but as many words that rhyme with "race,"

we'll be here all damn day.

[engine revs]

[laughing]

Now, if he can catch that light-speed

devil of the racetrack, Racer Rex.

KITT: [laughs] Go, baby! Go!

[laughs]

COSELL: I heard the Indians almost didn't enter the race.

Someone offered them a blanket and a handful of beads.

[engine revs, tires squeal]

ALI: Black Dynamite just pulled the old rope-a-dope on them.

That paleface better watch his red neck, Howard.

COSELL: When they called you "The Modern Day Shakespeare,"

they're calling you that because you literally

shake a spear.

ALI: I'm warning you, Howard. Don't you say "chuck."

All right, boys, try a little smallpox on for size.

Aaaah!

Aah!

[tires squeal]

COSELL: And down goes lnjun Joe!

ALI: I have to admit, that was pretty ingenious.

Authentic white man evil at its finest right there.

They took it back to the 1800s with that one!

Black Dynamite and Eartha KITT have just

crossed the New York state line

and are on a rampage.

Your boy Racer Rex is in first,

followed by the Japanese Yakuza Twosome.

My man Black Dynamite is in 3rd,

and in 4th place,

the wild card from parts unknown,

Dr. Wu's Tang Clan.

It's any race's race,

except of course any of the inferior races

who have already proven themselves total losers.

[tires screech]

These Yakuza motherfuckers got throwing stars!

And they throwing them! You okay?

I think so, as long as I'm with you, Black Dynamite!

[tires squeal]

Hyah!

ALL: Aah!

[tires screech]

[steering wheel clicks]

ALL: Aah!

[tires squeal ]

What the fuck are you doing?!

I'm coming down to do it myself!

You're ass is gl-a-a-ass!

KITT, what's the lowdown on these

Chinese old, dirty bastards anyway?

Um, I think they are known as Dr. Wu's Tang Clan,

notorious henchmen for Fiendish Dr. Wu.

Why the hell would he be helping me?

Why are you asking me? I mean, how should I know?

I mean, maybe they just like you or something.

KITT, I know when you're hiding something from me.

I hear it in your speaker. Now, lay it on me.

Oh, Black Dynamite, you're right,

I could never lie to you, baby.

It's not in my program.

I wanted to be with you again,

and they offered me money ... - Wait, who offered you money,

and what did they offer you money for?

Fiendish Dr. Wu ...

he wanted a car to transport Menthol "

That's the brain-washing, addictive chemical

that G. Carver told me about.

Dr. Wu just sold it to the B.I.G. Tobacco company

so they can make a super cigarette that will

make everyone who smokes them a mindless addict.

But Dr. Wu is really only using them as pawns

in his plan for world domination!

All right. Just so that everybody's clear,

Fiendish Dr. Wu is using this race war

to smuggle Menthol "X" across the country

to B.l.G. Tobacco? - Yes.

- Well, where is it? - Well, uh...

Tell me where it is KITT, and who has it hid!

You have it, Black Dynamite, It's in my trunk.

You're sitting on it!

[tires screech]

Bitch, what did you just say'?

I'm sorry, Black Dynamite!

KITT, how could you do this to me?

I did it for us ... our last chance to be together.

We gave our best years to the spy life.

Now why shouldn't we live the high life?

Al! we have to do is win, and we're home free!

There's no way I'd win this race

if it means selling out my own community,

and I could never be a pawn for Dr. Wu, The Man,

or any other diabolical, domineering motherfucker.

Can you dig it?

Oh, Dynamite, don't be stupid.

The community doesn't care about you.

The only thing I'm fighting for, is us.

Let's win the money, deliver the menthol,

and run as far as we can.

We'll buy an island and pave a road all around it,

then drive until I'm rusty and you're gray.

Wouldn't that be beautiful?

Hell, no!

Black Dynamite would never fuck a car.

And even if I could, it would be my Cadillac!

Oh... is that right?

Stupid me. [chuckles]

I should've known.

My girlfriend Christine says you all do this!

[locks click]

[engine revs, tires squeal]

Eartha KITT, slow down and turn off the damn heat!

You think this is hot?

Well, it's not half as hot as it's about to get!

You are going to win this race,

and we are going to live

happily... ever...

after!!

Pull over and get the fuck out of the car!

KITT, I knew underneath all this metal and iron,

you was just one crazy bitch!

Yeah? Well, I'm gonna show you one c-r-r-razy bitch!

Can your Cadillac bitch do this?

BLACK DYNAMITE: Eartha KITT, no!

ALL: ? All we are saying ?

? is race wars are wrong ?

John Lennon, it ain't your time yet! Look out!

[engine roars]

[crash]

[tires squeal]

[metal crunches]

Aah!

God damn Asian drivers!

ALI: As usual, everything come down to Black and white.

[cheers and applause]

COSELL: Isn't it amazing?

Black Dynamite's car is colored Black.

[laughs maniacally]

It's colored Black.

ALI: Say it one more time.

Go ahead, Howard. One more time.

COSELL: Black.

[engines revving]

ALI: Things are getting tense out there.

- Huh'? - KYTT: It's too late!

You're going to win, Black Dynamite!

Eartha KITT, as much as Black Dynamite wants to be

on the cover of a Wheaties box,

Black Dynamite would rather lose this race

than lose his race.

Bye, bitch!

Nooooo!

Aaaah!

I don't get these coloreds, but they sure do love

the taste of menthol.

And as soon as I get my hands on it ... aaaaaaaaaaah!

KITT: Aaaaaaaaah!

Black Dynamite, you ain't shit.

Ooh! Suey!

Suey! Suey! Suey! Suey! Suey!

Wh... uh-oh.

Suey!

[cheers and applause] ALI: Black Dynamite wins!

The Black race is the greatest race

of all time!

Put that in your toupee and smoke it, Howard Cosell!

That doesn't even make any sense,

but I acknowledge your joy

as well as your tendency to gloat.

A Black man has won The Race War.

Before we go, I've just received word from Don King

that there will be a Race War ll and many more to come.

I'm Muhammad Ali.

And I'm Howard Cosell.

Good night and God ... ow!

The pain is excruciating.

KITT: You and me, baby. You and me.

[laughs evilly]

Forever!

Hunh!

Su... suey?

Huh?

CREAM CORN: We did it, Black Dynamite, we did it!

We won!

You whupped every races' asses!

You was the Blackest and the fastest!

You put Racer Rex in his place

and made us the superior Black race!

Told you it got a nice ring to it.

And look what I got, Black Dynamite!

Unh! Ha! I'm gonna eat me

some Billy Dee Williams Wheaties tonight!

Unh!

? Dynamite! Dynamite! ?

? Dynamite! Dynamite! ?

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