Original subtitles

(THEME MUSIC PLAYING)

(SNICKERING)

Hey, hey, race fans! This is Big Brick Crashman.

And we're here once again in the garages at Wacky Race Central,

with the franchise owner and billionaire race promoter, P.T. Barnstorm.

Mrs. Barnstorm, what kind of wild and wacky race

do you have planned for our risk-loving team of expert racers today?

-Nothing. -What!

No race today, Brick.

It's our day off. Didn't you get the memo?

I did not.

You heard that, race fans.

No race today!

Apparently, I have no reason to be here.

Absolutely no reason at all.

You know you're not gettin' paid for this, right?

-Bye. -(MICROPHONE FEEDBACK)

-Hey, Penelope! -Ahh!

Did you know it's our day off?

I do. Ugh!

Don't y'all just hate days when there's no race? It's so boring.

I'm going home to sit in the dark and stare at my lonely walls.

I may cry a little.

Oh... Okay.

-Have fun? -I will!

I might as well see what everyone is up to.

Looking good there, Peter.

I know! Beautiful. Just beautiful.

You're looking at your reflection, aren't you?

Absolutely perfect.

It's like it's begging me to kiss it.

Hmm...

I.Q., darling, that is impressive!

What does it do?

It's a teleportation chamber that will allow a racer

to instantly transmit themselves across any distance.

Really?

Wouldn't that take all the fun out of a race?

Or give some unscrupulous cad a completely unfair advantage,

thereby assuring a complete and total victory!

(SNICKERING)

Oh! I never thought of that.

Well, that's because that big, beautiful brain of yours

is all tired and tuckered out after a hard day of tinkering.

You should take a nap.

What about my teleporter?

I haven't finished it and it could be dangerous if someone tried to use it.

I still haven't worked out all the bugs.

Don't give it a thought, my boy!

I'll look after it personally.

(CLATTERING)

Dastardly, you're not thinking of using that, are you?

Madam, I assure you, that using this device

to gain an unfair advantage in our next racing event

is the farthest thing from my mind!

You have my word, as a sporting gentleman.

(PARROT SQUAWKS)

MAN: Prepare to fire!

-(GUNSHOT) -(DASTARDLY GROANS)

Ahoy, Captain Dash!

Why, shiver me idiosyncratic oratory style.

'Tis Penelope Pitstop herself.

How have ye been farin', fair lady?

Bored, Captain. What are you up to?

(GRUMBLES) Since we dry docked for the day,

the crew thought to be having some target practice.

(KNEES KNOCKING)

-Oh, hi there, Miss Pitstop. -Arrr.

(SQUAWKS) 'Sup?

Uh, boys, isn't that a little dangerous?

By Neptune! She be right.

Standards and Practices will be furious.

-What were we thinking? -Arrr.

That be much better.

-Hi, Bone Daddy. -Hello, Bella.

-Hello, Penelope! -(TINY WHIMPERS)

Tiny... What's getting you down, big guy?

Tiny received an invitation to his high school reunion.

(GASPS) Oh, my stars! How exciting!

-(GUNSHOT) -High school was just the best, wasn't it?

I was class valedictorian. Voted prettiest, smartest, most likely to succeed

and least likely to end up in a never ending series of races

surrounded by deranged people.

(WINGS BUZZING) Drat, drat, drat, drat, drat, drat, drat, drat, drat!

I.Q.: I told you the transporter was still buggy!

Tiny, no go.

In high school, Tiny didn't fit in.

(GASPS) Oh! Is this gonna be a flashback?

I love flashbacks. Flashback!

(ALL SHOUTING INDISTINCTLY)

Drat, drat, drat, drat!

BELLA: Tiny, was an exchange student

at Miss Prissy Priswell's Finishing School

for the Privileged and Preternatural.

Tiny had no friends.

Tiny... Friend.

(ALL SCREAMING)

GIRL: So she said, like, "No way."

And I said, like, "Yeah, way!" And she was like...

(INAUDIBLE)

She was like, "LOL." And I was like, "Oh, OMG."

And she was like, "Nah." and I was like...

Friend?

Um, can I call you back?

(SCREAMS)

(VOICE QUIVERS) No friend.

(LOCKER RATTLING) -BELLA: He was shy, awkward.

Share, uh?

-(MUNCHING LOUDLY) -(BOY SCREAMS)

(ALL SCREAMING)

BELLA: And his lunches ate the other students.

Oh, Tiny, you poor, sweet...

PENELOPE: Tiny? Where's Tiny?

When Tiny is upset, he hides.

Check the box.

-Tiny? -Tiny, no go.

Aw, come on out, Tiny dear.

Why, I'll just teach you proper poise and etiquette

and fiddle-dee-dee, you won't scare anyone away.

We'll have you ready for that reunion in no time.

Idea, bad...

(PENELOPE READING)

Stand straight now. Don't hunch over.

Hey, that hunch was a gift from my cousin in Notre Dame.

-(TINY STRAINS) -You can do it, big fellow.

-A-ha! -ALL: Yay!

-(SQUAWKS) -(THUDDING)

-Oh! I love it. -I can't feel me legs.

-Drat! -My spine.

My hair! How's my hair? Call a stylist, stat!

(PENELOPE READING)

A firm handshake and a pleasant, "How do you do?"

Will make a great impression.

How do you do?

-Ooh! -(IN FALSETTO) Ouch!

(CRUNCHING)

Maybe not quite that firm?

Oh, sorry.

(WEAKLY) No... It's good, it's fine.

(PENELOPE READING)

Dastardly!

(SLURPING)

(CHUCKLING) Sorry!

(GROANS)

Let's begin.

-(WHIRRING) -(CUTLERY CLANKING)

(WHIMPERS)

(BREATH TREMBLING) Oh, the horror...

The horror.

(PENELOPE READING)

-(HARPSICHORD PLAYING) -(BUZZING)

-(GROANING) -Why am I at the bottom?

(SQUAWKS) And one, and two, and three, and...

(CAPTAIN DASH SCREAMS)

(CRASHING)

(PENELOPE READING)

Repeat after me. Peter Perfect picked a peck of pickled peppers.

Give up, Pitstop! It's hopeless.

(SOFT CRACKLING)

(GROANING)

-I know we can do it. -(DASTARDLY SCREAMING)

Just try once more, Tiny.

Come on. I believe in you.

(STRAINING)

If Peter Perfect picked a pack of perfectly pickled peppers,

how many perfectly pickled peppers did Peter Perfect pick?

-I think he's got it. -ALL: He's got it!

I do indeed believe I have gotten it.

(SIGHS)

And now, it's time for your makeover montage.

Hit it!

(UPBEAT MUSIC PLAYING)

(INSECTS SQUEAKING)

(DASTARDLY GROANS)

(ALL PANTING)

-(MUSIC PLAYING) -(PEOPLE CHATTING INDISTINCTLY)

-(WHIMPERS) -Go ahead, Tiny.

Show them the new you.

-PETER: Get in there, big fellow. -Ooh.

Uh, uh... Friend?

(ALL SCREAMING)

It's okay, Tiny. Just rember what we taught you.

Now get out there, and show them the new you!

(MUSIC PLAYS)

Hey... How's it going?

Looking good. Right back at ya.

Down low... Too slow.

Wow, Tiny, is that really you?

I've been following your racing career.

The Gruesome Twosome are my favorite.

Thank you.

Your patronage of the competive arts is much appreciated.

-Tiny? -(GASPS)

I hardly recognize you.

How've you been?

Well, I'm sure you understand my world-traveling racing career

keeps me very busy.

And then there are all my charitable obligations and public appearances.

Of course. Well, I'm glad you could make it tonight.

Oh... I think I want to go home.

Pshaw! The new Tiny is a big hit.

And everyone's having a great time.

-This party stinks. -Ladies, gentlemen,

tonight we have a special award.

Can you come up here, Tiny?

Me?

Yes, you! Go on up.

Tiny, I guess this old school stuff

doesn't mean anything to you now that you're famous

and use hair gel that smells like ground-up movie stars.

But we all got together and bought you a trophy.

To Tiny. The nicest kid in class.

Oh. You mean you all liked me?

My gosh, Tiny. Everybody at school just thought you were super-swell.

-You made lunch exciting. -(CHILDREN LAUGHING)

MAN 1: And all that screaming was great exercise.

You were so succinct.

MAN 2: And tall. MAN 1: And friendly.

You mean you're all Tiny's friends?

ALL: Yes!

Old Tiny...

-Cool! -(ALL CHEERING)

-ALL: (CHANTING) Tiny! Tiny! -Hmm.

(THUDDING)

-(SCREAMS) -There you have it, race fans.

Tiny wins...

The hearts of everyone in this room, that is.

So, big guy... What should we do now?

Friends... Dance.

-(UPBEAT MUSIC PLAYING) -(ALL CHEERING)

(LAUGHING) Yeah!

Whoo-hoo!

-(GLASS SHATTERS) -GIRL: I love you, Tiny!

You know... I like him better like this.

Yeah. You know what?

So do I. Let's boogey.

(BUZZING)

(CRIES OUT)

Drat! Help, help me! Help me!

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