Original subtitles

I am not! Are so!

- Am not! - Are so!

Cut it out, Mater. I'm not lost.

If this is navigating, then I'm a Tesla pickup.

Yeah? Well, that crummy diner you picked out gave me gas

and not the good kind.

Yeah, well, you make chewy, smacky sounds in your sleep.

And your breath!

Well, your breath smells like a carpet fire.

Well, we'll just have to agree to disagree.

I can't agree to that.

- Fine then! - No, fine.

- Fine. - Fine!

- Fine, fine, fine. - Fine, fine, fine.

Fine.

If we were speaking to each other, which we're not,

I'd say there's a camp up ahead.

And if I was answering, I'd say, "Woo-hoo!"

Oh, I spy with my little eye

two clackety-kitty cars have lost their mumsies.

Huh. Must be some kind of regional dialect.

I got this.

We'll be rumblin' back to the rightwise

if you cut us all slacksy-like, Cap'n Long Leggy.

Hitting the highway, a couple of friends

With new adventures 'round every bend

Whether racing fast or getting towed

We're ever together, cars on the road

"Here, I got this." Yeah, you got this, all right.

Well, I did, sorta.

Oh, yeah.

Let's go!

Ho! Ha!

Ho! Ha!

Ho! Ha!

Ho! Ha!

Whoa. Points for pageantry.

- Refugees from the decaying wastelands.

Wastelands?

We're from Radiator Springs.

Maybe she means it metaphorically.

You come crawling for acceptance into our ranks?

Um, no.

Shall we drag you to the badlands

where your parched husks will be dismantled by scavengers?

- Ow!

Or will you prove your worth in the Thundercone?

- Well? - Ow!

Uh, cone. Yeah, cone sounds good.

Prepare them. The Thundercone awaits.

Thundercone! Thundercone! Thundercone!

Dadgum.

How come you got a flamethrower?

Well, you got a... shovelbeard.

Two cars enter. One survives.

Let the victor join our ranks to battle the army of opposition.

Yeah!

- The what? - Who?

Off you go!

- Now what do we do? - I'll destroy you.

Then try to wake you up later.

What? No.

I saw it on the TV.

How about I destroy you?

- Then-- - Nah. Nobody will believe that.

- See? - Fine. Do your worst.

- Fine. I will. - Fine!

- Fine, fine, fine! - Fine, fine, fine!

- Oh, wait. Where'd everybody go? - Huh?

The dust rises, the hordes approach.

Many vital fluids will be spilled this day.

Now's our chance. You coming?

Uh-uh. Take the line, lambsies. There'll be no objectors in these ranks.

They say you came from the wastelands.

What started all this anyway?

A lifetime ago we came,

a gathering of like-minded, artsy-craftsy campers,

seeking enlightenment in the desert.

- And? - I don't know.

Petty squabbles flared. Factions formed.

Old school clashed with the new.

It's all a bit murky now.

You don't even remember what you're fighting about?

Not really, no.

Maybe a little intervention is in order.

Mater, follow me.

Warring factions!

Hey, we get it.

A fun little trip among friends somehow escalates

into a post-apocalyptic turf war.

It happens, right?

But it's okay to lay down your flamethrowers

and forget these petty squabbles.

Who cares?

Some dopey, insignificant tiff spins out of control.

And next thing you know, you and your best friend in the world

have come to blows over absolutely nothing.

It's crazy.

- Right, buddy? - Right, buddy.

So what do you say?

Why don't we all just throttle back, shut the heck up,

and, I don't know, move on?

Come on. Can't be any worse than all this, right?

- Over there! - What is?

McQUEEN: The highway!

Oh, well, we gave it a try.

At least this little fellow was listening.

Your decaying wasteland is a beautiful vision of hope.

Yes, it is.

Uh, Lightning, take a look.

Ah. I guess I'll go in and order a couple hundred more sippy coolers.

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