Original subtitles

(THEME MUSIC PLAYING)

(SNICKERING)

Let me assist you, I.Q.

Thank you, I.Q.

Here are those equations we need, I.Q.

I couldn't have done this better myself, I.Q.

And you didn't, I.Q.

(ALL LAUGHING)

Very witty. You're so clever.

Muttley, today, we are going to pilfer any apparatus

that addled-brained adolescent has invented

that might assist me to win today's race.

I.Q.: Hi, there, Mr. Dastardly.

Long time no see.

(LAUGHS NERVOUSLY) It wasn't me! No! Muttley did it!

I'd be happy to testify against him.

Hello, Dick. It's been a while.

Still pointlessly cheating

in self-destructive and unhealthy ways?

Why do you look so old?

I'm not old. I'm barely 40.

40? Ugh. Cover your shame.

-Hello, Mr. Dastardly. -(GASPS)

I.Q., what is going on here?

These are future versions of myself.

They've come back in time to help me

invent the time machine

that will allow them to travel back

in time to help me invent it.

You realize you never make any sense at all?

Hi, guys.

It's just an ontological, multi-actual, non-causational

temporal transverse time loop.

-Huh? -Of course. Simple.

What kind of brainless buffoon would not understand that?

Oh, Dicky. How's it going?

-Speak of the devil. -Oh, look.

A time machine that's causing an ontological,

multi-actual, non-causational

temporal transverse time loop. Cool!

Shiny lights! Oh, can I take a selfie?

(ELECTRICITY ZAPPING)

-(ROARS) -Oopsie.

Peter has brought a dinosaur forward in time!

Cheese!

(LASERS FIRING)

(SCREAMING)

(ROARS)

Hmm. A mind control beanie.

What use would that be?

I can already control people

with my charismatic charm and savoir faire.

Ah! Dastardly!

Gadzooks! Who might you be?

I'm the future Dick Dastardly come back to stop you

from making the biggest mistake of your life!

You smell like a wet yak.

Why should I listen to you?

Because if you don't, your life will be

a continuous series

of failure, humiliation,

and cheap slapstick sight gags.

Like that.

Don't steal that. Take this instead.

No, I don't want to. I want that.

I am older and wiser!

I want the super cool blaster beam!

That's exactly how I ended up

a smelly, gross, slightly sticky old man

with one tooth and a pet cockroach that lives in my nose!

Hi, everybody.

The day I chose to steal

that stupid blaster

instead of a mind control device that would've made me

the most powerful man on Earth!

You want it so much, then you and your nose bug can just take it.

Fine. I will!

I hope you do!

BOTH: Goodbye!

Ah!

Good gravy. I was a complete nitwit.

(MUTTLEY AGREEING)

(ROARING)

Now, I just need someone

to help me operate the time machine.

Say cheese, Dicky.

Speaking of spoiled dairy products,

have you changed your aftershave? I like it.

Listen to me, you Herculean half-wit.

I need your feckless fingers

to facilitate my flight to the future!

Hmm, that sounds like an oddly specific request

that could have catastrophic results.

Okay!

(CRACKLING)

(ROARS)

What happened?

Someone activated the time machine.

But if whoever did that isn't careful,

they could change the course of the future.

How?

Like that.

-Hi, y'all. What's going on here? -I have no idea.

I'm pretty sure someone used my time machine to alter their past,

which could radically alter the time stream

with possibly catastrophic results!

(COUGHS)

I.Q. I came back to warn me.

The future has become a dystopian nightmare.

There's only one thing to do.

(FIRING)

You must destroy Dick Dastardly.

Well, okey-dokey with me. Tiny?

Okay. That's that.

Tiny, give him back. And no digesting.

I was wearing shoes.

(MEOWS)

Hey, these shoes aren't mine.

I must save the future from Dick Dastardly!

Eat hot justice, tyrant!

(EXPLOSION)

(LAUGHS) Tickles.

(SCREAMS)

MUTTLEY: Uh-oh.

(SCREAMING)

-We need to stop I.Q. -On it!

Leave Dastardly alone, you fiend!

It's not me! I mean, it is me, but not yet.

Don't try to confuse me with your science-y fact talk.

I get my news from cable television.

DASTARDLY: All right, you perspicacious protege!

Prepare for some prodigious payback!

Drat.

Dastardly must have changed something in our future's timeline.

That's why the I.Q.s are coming back

to stop him!

I've been sent from the future to destroy wacky racers

and bring Dastardly to the future.

Oh, no, you don't.

(ALL YELLING)

Sweet Georgia peaches!

I.Q., do something to stop yourself!

I'll try!

(YELLING)

Hasta la vista, racers.

The cyborg from the future talks in cliches.

What a surprise!

Hey! You weren't supposed to eat me.

Why were you acting like that?

He must've been mind controlled.

But the only thing that could do that

is my mind control beanie back in the lab.

Ah. Yes. Funny story.

A deranged and smelly version of myself from the future

did pop by earlier and steal your beanie thing.

But what would you do with that power?

Well, offhand, I'd probably conquer the world,

and send an army of robotic Muttleys back in time

to make sure the timeline stays the way I wanted it.

I mean, I guess I would, I'm just--

Got it on the first try, old bean.

Surrender past Dastardly to me immediately

so I may ensure he will become me

or I will destroy you all!

Oh, yeah? You and what army?

PETER: Oh, that army. PENELOPE: Dastardly.

You really suck eggs, you know that?

Get him!

We have to keep Dastardly away from himself.

Down there!

I'm not going down there!

It smells like Perfect's gym shorts on taco Tuesday.

Don't worry, my robotic hordes. We'll find them!

It's only a matter of time.

(ON TV)This is your State-metered mouthpiece, Brick Crashman,

celebrating 20 years of Dick Dastardly's reign of dystopian terror.

Oh, I can't believe Brick works for the Emperor now.

Hey, we were watching that.

Not that there's anything else to do

in this horrible, disgusting filthy sewer.

How about another game of plop ball?

(SNICKERING)

We've been playing plop ball for 20 years!

And I never win!

What's going on, I.Q.?

I think I know how we can reset the timeline to before

Emperor Dastardly took over the world.

If we're gonna pull it off, we'll have to sneak back

into the old Wacky Races Headquarters.

But that's one of the most heavily guarded places in the world.

We'll never get out alive.

I love this plan.

It's still better than playing plop ball with Perfect.

This is never going to work.

We have to try, Dastardly.

Now, just like we practiced.

DASTARDLY: Uh, um, yes.

(CLEARS THROAT) Attention, my mechanical mutts!

I am your ruler, Emperor Dastardly.

And these are, uh...

(WHISPERS) Your guards.

-My jars! -Huh?

I order you to allow us to pass. At once!

(MUTTERING)

I.Q.: Look! My time machine!

By golly, that was easy.

Well, of course, my dear.

Never doubt the clever coruscations of Richard Milhouse--

-Dastardly! -(SNICKERING)

It was a trap!

EMPEROR DASTARDLY: Of course it was a trap, you fools!

I know everything you're about to do

-because I've already lived through it! -Huh?

Just like I know you're about to bash me

with that wrench, Pitstop.

(STAMMERING) Oh, I wasn't going to bash you.

I was, uh, just admiring your distinctive profile.

Mmm. Handsome.

Oh, do you really think so?

Ha, it's not even my good side. Aah!

Now you can't remember what's going to happen next!

Well played, Pitstop.

Time to eviscerate everyone's existence into the ether!

Mutt-bots! Sic 'em!

Head for the time machine, I.Q.

This is your chance to rest the timeline!

(SCREAMS)

Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow.

(ROARS)

It worked. I'm back in my past.

Or Dastardly's past. Or wherever!

-Dastardly! -Gadzooks! Who might you be?

I'm the future Dick Dastardly,

come back to stop you

from making the biggest mistake of your life!

PETER: Oh, hi, there, I.Q. Selfie?

Hey, Peter. Let me show you how to use this time machine.

See this lever that reads "self destruct"?

That's how you turn it on.

Really? That seems oddly unnecessary and cryptic.

-Got it! -Great.

Now, I think Dastardly needs your help.

He does? Gangway! I'm coming, old buddy!

Now, I just need someone to help me operate the time machine.

Say cheese, Dicky.

Speaking of spoiled dairy products,

have you changed your aftershave?

Listen to me, you Herculean half-wit.

I need your feckless fingers

to facilitate my flight to the future!

Okay.

(EXPLOSION)

What? But if the time machine is destroyed

then I could never use it to come back from the future!

I.Q. CLONES: Neither could we!

Hi, y'all. What's going on?

A recursive time loop paradox reset.

Oh, and my ice cream is back.

Well, you can bet I'll never build another time machine.

Yes, you will,

which causes the future to be conquered

by genetically engineered time-traveling Octo-Muttleys.

-But... But... -Drat.

(SNICKERING)

(THEME MUSIC PLAYING)

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