All language subtitles for Class.of.Nuke.Em.High.Part.3.The.Good.the.Bad.and.the.Subhumanoid.1995.BluRay.Eng.23976-MaG

Are we rolling?

No.

We're almost ready.

Roll
the cameras already.

This is live television.

Rolling.

This is
Tromaville Student Television,

reporting live on location.

A giant squirrel is attacking
the nuclear power plant

at the Tromaville
Institute of Technology.

The military and
the National Guard

have been completely useless
against the rampaging

rodent's destructive force.

Nuclear disaster has
struck again on the site

where Tromaville high school was
blown off the face of the Earth

just the few short years ago.

It is the most horrible
thing I've ever witnessed.

The school, the campus,
the nuclear power

plant... it's all gone.

All that we hold dear.

The video game room
has been destroyed.

Oh, the horror!

Oh, the humanity!

I'm sorry, ladies and gentlemen.

I can't go on.

I...

Oh, God.

I'm melting!

I'm melting!

He's a subhumanoid.

He's melting down.

I'm melting down.

Help!

I'm melting.

Oh, what a world.

Forget him.

We've gotta report the news.

OK, ready?

Still rolling!

ANGEL FINKLESTEINGet
that dog outta here!

This is Angel Finklestein,
reporting to you live

from the Tromaville
Institute of Technology,

where a giant,
mutated squirrel is

about to destroy the
Tromaville Nuclear Powerplant.

Oh my,
I'm melted down.

You may
recall the same nuclear power

plant was destroyed once
before in the 1984 Troma

movie, Class of Nuke 'Em High.

That was one of my
favorite Troma movies,

lots of melon-heavy breath.

It was then rebuilt by
the Nukemama Corporation

as part of the new Tromaville
Institute of Technology campus

in the movie
Subhumanoid Meltdown:

Class of Nuke 'Em High Part II.

Hey, Angel.

I like your style.

Have you ever had a
night of wild passion

with a gob of green goo?

What do you say?

After the broadcast, me
and you get together?

I'll take that as a no.

As you can see, the
giant mutated squirrel

is not the only problem
plaguing campus today.

Apparently, an evil
experiment gone bad

is causing a secret race
of subhumanoid students

to melt down into
gobs of green...

This is Susie Schwartz,
reporting live, filling in

for Angel Finklestein,
dead, reporting to you

on the campus of
Tromaville Tech.

Oh, my God.

This is awful.

Read it out
loud, you bimbo.

This just in... a
military helicopter

has been dispatched from the
Tromaville Air Force Base

to meet this mother
of all squirrels.

And it's on it's
way here right now.

The copter is carrying a
radioactive, rodent-seeking

patriot missile, which
has been disguised

to look like a giant acorn.

Base to Tromaville
One, watch yourself.

He looks like my mother-in-law.

Tromaville One to
Base, it's much worse

than we ever expected.

He... he's doing the frug.

Oh, no, he's also
got good rhythm.

For once, the military's
plan seems to be working.

The giant squirrel is
following the acorn.

Tromaville One to Base.

I've got the decoy in place.

He's just about to grab it.

By the way,
Tromaville One, you're

going to be a national
military hero the minute

he grabs that patriot missile.

What patriot missile?

That's me, Adlai Smith.

I am a third-generation
subhumanoid.

I am the only honor student
to be created from the mating

of a human and a subhumanoid.

And soon I'll be two years old.

You're probably asking yourself
how I, in only two years,

can be full grown.

Well, I'm the offspring
of a human father

and a subhumanoid mother.

And one thing about
subhumanoids is

that we grow from infancy
to post adolescence

in little more than 18 months.

And we do a lot of push ups.

Like everyone else, my
story, and my problems,

started with my
father, one Roger Smith

who looks exactly like me.

My father was a typical
student at the Tromaville

Institute of Technology
way back before I

was born, two years ago.

Dad loved Tromaville Tech,
which had been constructed

by the Nukemama Corporation
inside of the Tromaville

nuclear power plant.

My father was one
of the greatest

student reporters in the history
of the Tromaville Tech Times.

Brilliant.

While
doing a routine news story,

he stumbled onto a
nefarious conspiracy

to create a mindless subservient
race of second-class citizens

called subhumanoids.

This biogenetic obscenity
was the horrendous plot

of the Nukemama Corporation.

It was also the
horrendous plot of Class

Part II.

The subhumanoids were
genetically designed and bred

to perform human beings'
unpleasant chores

and undesirable functions, such
as fighting wars in miserable

third world countries,
and cleaning

offices, and disposing of
unrecyclable non-deposit glass

bottles.

More important,
these subhumanoids

worked for peanuts,
and therefore

brought the Nukemama
Corporation gross revenues,

which were huge.

The obvious difference between
humans and subhumanoids

was the extra set of lips where
their belly buttons should be.

One of these subhumanoids
was my mother.

Subhumanoids were
unable to produce

their own offspring by
mating with each other,

although they enjoyed trying.

In order to have a
baby, a subhumanoid

had to mate with a human.

So the Nukemama
Corporation, in its greed

to create more and more
subhumanoid babies,

manipulated the good
students of Tromaville Tech

into fornicating with
the subhumanoids.

And that's how my
mom and dad met.

My mother and father, in
spite of being victims

of an evil, cynical, and obscene
money-grubbing experiment,

fell head over heels in love.

While dad was getting used
to mom's subhumanoid lips,

problems were developing with
the Nukemama Corporation's

subhumanoid baby program.

Everything seemed
like a piece of cake,

but it was really a mess.

It was soon revealed that the
subhumanoids were unstable.

And after six months,
they began melting down

into disgusting gobs
of green goo, which

were gross, but kind of cute and
would make great toys for kids.

And adults liked them too.

The creator of the
subhumanoids was the brilliant,

but misguided
Professor Melvina Holt.

And she desperately tried
to develop an antidote

to the meltdown syndrome.

Unfortunately, because of
negligence in disposing

of the hideously-toxic
meltdown byproduct,

one of the good squirrels
of Tromaville mutated

into a giant, disgusting,
belching, farting, urinating,

monster squirrel, which began
destroying the Tromaville

Institute of Technology and its
state-of-the-art student-run

nuclear power facility.

Unfortunately, the
mutant monster squirrel

annihilated a lot
of Tromavillians,

including many of the
principal actors in Class

Part II.

Fortunately, those
annihilated included

the sadistic gang leader, Yolk.

Unfortunately, Yolk's
more handsome, but less

intellectually brilliant younger
sibling, Little Egg White,

survived to take over the gang.

Fortunately, it turned
out Professor Holt

did indeed create an antidote
to the subhumanoid meltdown

syndrome.

Unfortunately, the miscreant
mutant squirrel thought

Professor Holt was his mommy.

Mommy, Mommy.

I'm
not your mother!

You're not?

Oh.

Fortunately, my father

got the antidote
from Professor Holt

and was able to give
it to my mother.

What my parents didn't know was
that they weren't the only ones

to survive the destruction.

Miraculously, Professor Holt
crawled through the rubble,

back to the
subterranean chambers

beneath the main
nuclear reactor core,

where her beloved subhumanoid
birthing laboratories

would hold whatever remained
of her top secret experiments.

Unfortunately, her unethical
sellout to corporate greed

had subjected her body
to low level symptoms

of the meltdown syndrome.

Fortunately, at least
her beehive hairdo

remained intact, since
her hairspray contained

beeswax from plenty of bees.

Unfortunately, they were
PCBs, and the incredible heat

produced by her meltdown
syndrome symptoms

resulted in
spontaneous combustion.

At least
I still have my hair.

My hair!

Where... where'd it go?

Where is it?

My hair.

Oh, my precious hair.

Where is it?

Well, well, if it isn't

the lovely Professor Holt.

It
was so beautiful.

I see you got a haircut.

Hey, Professor.

You're real ugly now.

Why, I oughtta...

While Professor

Holt and Little Egg
White got reacquainted,

so did my mom and dad.

After Tromaville was
leveled, and the raging fires

were put out, my mother and
father did what came naturally.

They fucked their brains
out, and I was conceived.

Meanwhile, the Nukemama
corporate powers

did what came naturally.

They conceived a new plan.

The sadistic genius,
Dr. Slag, PhD.,

was sent to rebuild the
Tromaville Institute

of Technology and nuclear
power plant as a cover

for the heinous mission.

So while my father's
good and true seed

was nurtured in my
mother's subhumanoid belly,

the evil seed of
Dr. Slag, PhD's plan

was planted deep
beneath Tromaville.

Dr. Slag, PhD.

What are you doing here?

Professor Holt.

The Nukemama Corporation sent me
down here to clean up the mess

that you made of our plans.

Now I must brief all of
you about our new mission.

New mission?

That's right, new mission.

On behalf of the
Nukemama Corporation,

we must use Professor
Holt's subhumanoids

to achieve the ultimate and
unspeakable wealth and power.

Our new research shows
that the mating of humans

and subhumanoids produces
offspring which are much more

than just mindless laborers.

The chemistry of these babies is
also a source of cheap energy.

Holt's subhumanoids
hold the key.

But Dr. Slag, PhD.,
all the subhumanoids

melted down Class of
Nuke 'Em High Part II

and in the beginning
of this movie.

All but one, Dr. Slag, PhD.

They all melted down but one.

Victoria lives.

I gave her boyfriend,
Roger Smith,

the antidote to the
meltdown syndrome.

So I'm sure that she lives.

It is she who holds your
precious key, Dr. Slag, PhD.

It's good you still have
a sense of humor, Holt,

because you're going to need
it when we hunt this girl down

and watch her and wait for her
to become heavy with child.

For when that baby comes
out of that second set

of subhumanoid lips
in his mother's belly,

that baby will be the
ultimate power source, which

will further enrich the
few of us who hold shares

in the Nukemama Corporation.

This power source
is unlike any other.

More powerful than nuclear
fission, coal, or oil.

You see, squirrels, the
Nukemama Corporation

has a plan to rebuild Tromaville
and the rest of the world.

We will watch and observe.

When she has that
baby, we will be there.

While Dr. Slag, PhD's plan

grew to full term, so did
I. And while the good people

of Tromaville prepared
for the rebirth

of the campus and
reactor, my parents

prepared for the birth of me.

Then finally the
happy day arrived.

Tromaville hospital had the
finest, most sophisticated

staff, the finest,
most sophisticated

equipment, and the finest,
most sophisticated patients.

The facility's all-inclusive
services covered

the entire medical spectrum.

So what
seems to be the problem...

From treatment

of restricting underwear...

- I
- can't stop watching

low-budget badass movies!

...to the removal

of tattoos from toes.

Following the example
of the Tromaville diner,

the Tromaville hospital
offered an early birth special.

So as the birth
contractions came,

Mom and Pop drove to
the hospital extra

fast because they only
paid half price if they

got there before six o'clock.

Ooh, I found ten bucks!

Fetal monitor?

Normal.

Pulse rate?

Normal.

How much is she dilated?

She's dilated three feet!

This was the first time ever

that natural childbirth
techniques were

used to deliver a subhumanoid.

As with all subhumanoid births,
this one would occur through

the extra set of lips
in the belly , which

are unique to the subhumanoids.

The Nukemama corporate gang
soon arrived on the scene.

One positive side effect of
Professor Holt's experiments

was the rapid regrowth
of her astounding

hair due to her exposure
to toxic growth hormones.

In, out.

Out, in.

Out, in, out.

She's not listening.

Now, Victoria.

Take it easy.

You're doing fine.

In, out.

Just like we practiced.

Is this where Victoria,
the last subhumanoid,

is giving birth to her
human husband's child?

No, this is the
PO-diatric ward.

I believe you're looking
for the PE-diatric ward.

The
birthing was a textbook case.

Someone help me!

Roger!

I'm not an animal!

The incredible beauty

of subhumanoid birth
overwhelmed dad,

and he did his best
not to throw up.

While he was in the waiting
room composing himself,

the Nukemama corporate
gang was closing in.

The gang entered the delivery
room and waylaid the nurses...

Roger, is that you?

Roger, I'm in transition, help!

And came back in high tech

sophisticated disguises.

Oh, no.

Not the novelty nose!

Roger, help me!

Oh, no not the novelty beard!

Oh, no, not the novelty
squirting flower and eye patch!

Oh, no.

I'm pushing!

It's coming!

Oh, my God!

Look at the size of
that umbilical cord.

Cut it.

Stop, you idiot.

That's no umbilical cord.

The baby's a boy.

DR. SLAG, PhD: Everything's
going exactly as I planned.

Now we have the power source.

My father did not know

that the evil Dr. Slag, PhD.

Was stealing his precious baby.

The hospital went about
its normal business.

Nobody knew that a
baby was being stolen.

Doctor, can
I try a little bit?

No, that's later.

That's later.

My father went back

into the delivery room, and
as is typically the case,

the highly paid obstetricians
were nowhere to be found.

Suddenly, my father had a
warm, glowing, powerful feeling

that this was going
to be a special birth.

I can't stand you.
I never could stand you.

Everything about
you is terrible.

I wish you would just
get out, get out!

It was a proud moment.

Since mom was giving birth,
dad did what came naturally.

He stuck in his
hand and pulled out

a beautiful, well-mannered,
charming, good-natured,

healthy, positively-motivated,
versatile baby boy,

who was also a good dancer.

Me.

Why, you
yellow-bellied sap sucker!

I can't believe
you did this to me.

Pop
was so proud, he did not suspect

for a minute that
twins had been born

or that one had been stolen.

Her pulse
rate is dropping!

Then tragedy struck.

Cardiac arrest.

Clear!

Clear!

Mom expired on the bed,

her body already growing cold.

Dad was devastated at
losing his beloved Victoria

and never knew
that she had given

him not one, but two sons.

Nobody knew that there
were subhumanoid twins.

And so the bad guys
transported their baby

to their hideout
nuclear power plant

to be reared in evil ways,
oblivious to the fact

that there was another twin.

C'mon, get up.

C'mon, boy.

Coochie coochie coo.

And the
good guy transported his baby

to Tromaville to be
reared by the forces

of goodness and kindness.

My dad was also
oblivious to the fact

that there was another twin.

Dad named me Adlai.

And Dr. Slag, PhD and Professor
Holt named their baby Dick.

While I was being taught the
Tromavillian ways of world

peace through celluloid
and dancing in the streets,

Dick was being
taught the evil ways

of corporate elitism gone mad.

But all this intercutting
is taking too long.

Let's go to the split
screen to save time.

KEVIN/PROFESSOR
HOLT:

It was a wonderful
thing, raising a child.

Little Adlai/Dick brought
such joy to our home/hideout.

But it seemed like he
was going up so quickly.

I soon realized that he really
was growing up so quickly.

Dick
was taught the ways

of violence and machine guns.

Adai
was taught the ways

of small Japanese
electronics products.

Dick grew up quickly

and could soon beat
any rodent member

of the Nukemama corporate gang.

Adlai grew
quickly and was soon head

of the Insect Appreciation Club

A side effect to the human-

subhumanoid gene combination
seemed to accelerate normal

growth by about 10 times.

At first we were concerned
about this rapid growth,

but tests seemed to indicate
that little Adlai/Dick was

slowing down and
would soon level off

to a more normal growth
pattern upon completion

of the adolescent phase,
or approximately 19 months

from birth.

But
getting back to my story,

I grew up good and true.

And at 19 months of age, I
graduated summa cum troma

from high school.

Dad was so proud.

Because I grew up so
fast, upon graduation dad

let me date my extremely
capable and efficient wet nurse.

Her name was Trish,
and we were in love.

At the same time, there
was an evil graduation

for my twin brother,
Dick, in the bowels

of the nuclear power plant.

Trish gave up wet
nursing and joined me

as a freshman at the Tromaville
Institute of Technology,

which had been rebuilt inside
the Nukemama Corporation's

brand new nuclear power plant.

This new nuclear facility was
as dangerous as any other,

but was much less obtrusive
because it didn't have

the normal nuclear
plant towers, which

are so expensive to duplicate
in special effects shots.

It was camouflaged to look
more like a sugar refinery

to blend in with the beautiful
and lush Tromaville landscape

and wasn't so offensive
to those bleeding

heart environmentalists.

The nuclear reactor's
central control room

was a place not
just for science,

but also humanities,
liberal arts,

and philosophical debates.

The egg came first!

I don't care what you say,
the chicken came first.

The Nukemama Corporation

built a new lab for Professor
Holt, where she began

cloning experiments based
on the essential elements

of earth, air, fire, and water.

A wolf clone for earth and
air, a dragon clone for fire,

and a fish head clone for water.

The campus hallways
were once again bustling

with people going to classes.

Tromaville Institute
of Technology

had fully recovered from the
near disaster of two years ago.

Young scholars once again
pursued individual studies,

participated in lively
academic debates,

developed mature
relationships, and interacted

with a highly esteemed faculty.

Independent studies
were explored

by all the student
body under the guidance

of scholarly advisors.

And although they were free
to pick their own course

of studies from a
curriculum that included

oceanographic studies...

Come lick my starfish, baby.

...and cinema studies,

featuring Dances With Wolves
and other great works by Troma

alumni, students freely accepted
the input of their professors

as long as they stayed in their
hermetically sealed suits.

My own studies
proceeded rapidly,

as did my romance with dear
Trish, accelerated and inspired

by our shared
political consciousness

for an earth threatening
environmental cause.

Save the boll weevil!

Thanks, honey.

Please, folks.

Give to save the boll weevil.

The boll weevil has a right
to live in our society.

Slam, you gotta donate.

He's got a place in
our animal kingdom.

Damn!

Gosh, Trish, this blatant
disregard for the boll weevil

really gets my goat.

I mean, you'd have
to be blind not

to realize that if
the weevil dies out,

cotton will run rampant.

And if cotton runs
rampant, well,

gee, there'll be no synthetic
polyester leisure suits.

I mean, Western civilization
owes a lot to the boll weevil.

Don't worry, Adlai.

We keep working and striving,
the weevil won't be forgotten.

Gosh, I love you, Trish.

Gosh, Adlai, You
just broke your rule

of public display of affection.

I know it's kooky,
Trish, but sometimes

I just can't resist you.

Yo, dude.

Save the boll weevil, please.

Excuse me.

I just haven't been feeling
too well since I started

working at the nuclear plant.

What's wrong, dear?

We had another one of
them plutonium fires.

I don't know.

I think I got contaminated.

ADLAI SMITH
Trish and I

were so excited over raising
$0.75 for the boll weevil

that we went back to my
dorm room to celebrate.

Oh, Adlai, that talk about the
boll weevil really turns me on.

Wouldn't you like
to watch some TV?

Adlai, Adlai, don't
you find me attractive?

Boy did I ever.

What I loved about Trish was
that she was so innocent, so

clean, so fresh, so
young, so shy, so healthy,

so bouncey, so full of life.

Trish knew that she had a
big double exam coming up,

and she was full of nervous
energy knowing that she

would be up all night cramming.

Oh, Adlai.

You're so good.

Oh, boll weevil me, Adlai.

Oh.

Oh, do the boll weevil on me.

You're so good.

I love it.

Boll weevil me.

Oh, please stop.

I can't take any more.

Are you sure that's enough?

Yes, I can't take
any more right now.

All right, then, I love you.

But wait, you didn't get a
chance to finish, did you?

No, but I don't care.

As long as you're happy,
that's all that matters for me.

I actually enjoy
having blue balls.

Adlai, I love you.

Although I was one with Trish,

little did I know that at
that very moment, somewhere

in outer Tromaville, a part
of me, my very own genes,

were implicated in a hideous
evil training session.

Dick, now you must
continue with your training

by taking on the
Mad Armor Clad Lad.

Bring on the armor man.

Let the training begin.

Now use the silly string.

Now the badminton rackets.

Use the surfboard.

Uh, who's winning?

ADLAI SMITH
Meanwhile

at the heady heights of
my maleness with Trish,

it happened again.

What's the matter, honey?

I just can't shake that
feeling that I'm not

a whole person,
that a part of me

is floating around in
the world somewhere.

Dick, I'm
glad you are so bad

and that you defeated
the Mad Armor Clad Lad.

Excellent, Dick.

Your progress is steady.

Soon you'll be allowed
to use your skills

in the world at large.

I sure hope so,
but I'm telling you,

I keep having those same dreams
where that little voice keeps

telling me that there's
something in the world for me

to look for, like half my
body is out there waiting

for me to find it or something.

Why, Dick, you wax poetic.

I wish there was some
way I could help you.

Oh, Trish.

Just keep being yourself.

That's all the help
I need from you.

Now you don't want
another lobotomy, do you?

Sir, no thanks.

I'll keep my mind on
maiming and killing, sir.

That's better.

Besides, you know that we are
striving to genetically create

a biological
counter-part which will

undoubtedly remedy that feeling
of incompleteness you sense.

Alone you have good power,
but with a genetic clone,

your power will be incredible.

Or to put it another way, two
Dicks are better than one.

I know it, sir.

Excuse me.

Dr. Slag, PhD?

Yes, what is it,
Professor Holt?

And it better be good or I'm
going to have your nipples

pierced with soldering irons.

Already done that,
Dr. Slag, PhD.

Oh, yes.

That's right.

Quite a show it was,
huh Little Egg White?

Shut up, Little Egg White.

Well Dr. Slag, PhD., we have
the final cloning results.

And I bet it's just
another miserable failure.

Au contraire.

We simply put a set of
swimming flippers on an iguana

with sinus congestion.

Ahh, Patrice.

I'm so glad you appreciate
a good sense of humor.

Perhaps you would
like to participate

in a little demonstration
of this lovely creature's

special powers?

No, no!

Ow!

Ooh, I'm on fire.

I can feel I'm on fire.

My skin, my
hands, I'm melting!

What a shame.

She had such good hands, didn't
she, my Little Egg White?

Great hands, Dr. Slag, PhD.

Now you see why cloning is
so crucial to our purpose.

Don't worry, Dick.

We'll soon set you up
with a counter-part.

And when we do, you'll
be so powerful you'll

make what that mutant
did to that girl look

like heavy petting

petting, petting, petting,

petting, petting, petting.

I felt strange

and lost that amorous
feeling, so I sent

Trish back to her dorm room

But Trish was persistent.

Hello?

Hi, sweetie.

Oh, hi, Trishy.

You don't sound very
excited to hear from me.

Oh, heck, Trish.

You know I'm always
excited to hear from you.

It's just I have this big
entomology exam tomorrow.

You know how much that
class means to me.

Well,
you know I want you to get

an A in whatever that is.

Although I was hoping, uh,
maybe we could get together,

and I could give you
a little inspiration.

You're not doing that
phone thing again, are you?

Uh huh.

Ooh, Trish.

You give new meaning
to fiber optics.

Trish, you know I
can't take it when

you put the phone down there.

Oh.

Oh, I love you, Trish,
but I just can't do it.

Entomology class is just
too important to throw

away on a night of passion.

Gosh,
I guess you're right.

I'm sorry.

Can you ever find a
way to forgive me?

Of course I forgive you.

You're my little grasshopper.

Kiss, kiss.

Darn, another hard-on.

Well, I guess there's nothing
to do except read a little

more until I can fall asleep.

Ooh, the boll weevil thrust its
long, slender, throbbing nose

into the wet cotton ball amidst
a disgusting black fluid.

Ooh.

I'm having the dream

again... the melon-heavy dream.

I'm in a room with smoke,
and Trish and her sisters,

the grasshoppers, come.

They're trying to tell me
something about entomology.

They're telling me
about grasshoppers.

I am happy.

Then it happens again.

I'm drawn to Trish.

As she turns around,
her face has changed.

Something is very wrong.

As if born out of all evil
come hideous creatures.

The spirits urge me on.

I don't want to strangle Trish,
but I can't control myself.

The more I try to unlock my
fingers, the tighter they get.

It's as if I'm
strangling all that's

bad... my own sex, my guilt.
She is a limp cockroach.

Suddenly, I hear a voice.

Adlai.

Dick.

The
fecund stomach calls to me.

The birth maker, I
cannot stop myself.

I am drawn to it.

It reaches out to me.

The motnamodder,
the spirit of all

that's pleasurable,
the symbol of all

that's perverse and evil.

Two extremely
trendy, well-dressed

lesbian spirits exhort me.

All of the spirits combine their
powers to join the exhortation.

I do the only logical thing
under the circumstances.

I stick my hand in.

They cry out in exaltation.

As if being born
again, my arm is warm.

It is wet.

It's lit up like a
fucking Christmas tree.

Dick.

Dick.

All I can think of is Dick.

And the dream ends the
same way it always does.

I say something, but I
don't know what I mean.

I don't know why I say it.

I say...

Dick must never find out.

ADLAI SMITH
Why do I

feel there's a Dick out there?

My hand, it's glowing.

It's yellow.

Yellow is not my color.

Oh, God, I need water.

Wake me up.

I'm not dreaming.

My hand is hard and stiff.

I can't move my fingers,
but I seem to be

able to control this power.

Well, Dick, I
brought these bored housewives

here tonight to see you take
on my most lethal challenge.

Rollerblade warriors
whom I've personally

trained from prepubescence.

They are armed with
deadly lead pipes,

cleverly disguised to look like
harmless, PG-rated wiffle bats.

Whoa, he put his
hand through his head.

That wasn't part
of the training.

Well, Dick,
my boy, you've finally

found your purpose in life.

Those students, all they
think about it is safety.

So who's gotta check their
cables for the annual festival

tonight?

Me.

The cables are fine.

Yes.

One special day,

something unusual happened.

Oh, Adlai, it's
so cold in here.

Here, let me warm up the room.

I decided to try and make

my hand glow like in the dream.

My hand got very hard and stiff,
but I could control its power.

I suppose there's
some good things I have

with this new power after all.

Great article, Adlai.

Thank you, Captain.

Oh, look at the
headline, Adlai.

Gosh, I'm so excited, Trish.

My first article
in the school paper

a feature on the annual
Tromaville Night Fest.

You're going to be
just like your dad.

I don't know about
that one, Trish.

He was a wild one, to hear tell.

Why, I hear all sorts
of crazy stories

from people that went
to school with him

that are still around today.

Wow.

Trish
and I decided to play hooky.

It was the first
time I missed class,

and I felt guilty because
we were going to have

a lesson on water bug sex.

That feels good.

I couldn't help thinking

about my special powers.

I could make my hand light
up or not at my own will,

but what was I
supposed to do with it?

What was my destiny?

What will I do with my life?

Will I be more than just
a disposable flashlight?

Or will I achieve truth,
peace, and justice?

I don't know why,
but I decided to do

something crazy with my hand.

it turned out that my
hand had a power that

could be used across 15 feet.

My hand brought Trish
to a higher place,

where she was at one with me.

Now it was revealed to
me that my power could

be used for the force of good.

We could have gone on pleasuring
each other all night long,

but we stopped to rest
because tonight was

the annual festival, and
we had to get to the plant

in time for the festivities.

Little did we know that a
mishap at the nuclear reactor

had shut down power
to the festival.

Fortunately, the
well-rehearsed safety

evacuation drills were followed
perfectly and nobody panicked.

How are we going
to get power back?

Why

Does faculty advisor
have to be on sabbatical

when this happens?

-Chicken.
-Egg.

Chicken.

Egg, egg, egg.

You egg-head,
chicken came first.

No, it was the egg.

Chick-chick-chicken.

Your
attention, please.

Evacuate the festival
grounds immediately.

And go to the north for
an urgent announcement

by Professor Chernobyl.

Thank you for your cooperation.

Oh, you guys are
going love this.

This is great.

This is great.

Attention people of Tromaville.

My name is Professor
Chernobyl, and I

have some good news for you
and some bad news for you.

First the bad news.

I was just informed
by the police

that we're experiencing
technical difficulties here

at Tromaville
nuclear facilities.

If we can't procure a
super-heated nuclear catalyst

in the next 10 minutes,
we can no longer

restore power to your festival.

I'm sorry, but it gets better.

Much better.

Uh, folks, you see, our
resulting system's shutdown

creates the possibility
of a major explosion

here at the plant, showering all
of us with radioactive water.

Ain't that special?

We all die.

And this pisses me off, because
I spent the last two years

of my life teaching
little idiots

how to read, write, educate
yourselves, behave yourselves.

What kind of thanks do I get?

I don't get dick.

I would like to vomit on each
and every one of... I'm sorry.

I got a little carried away.

What we are suggesting
is that all of you

grab your radiation
suits, rush to your home,

and cover yourself with eight
inch thick blankets of lead.

Those of you took my nuclear
survival class will survive.

Those of who didn't, tough.

Oh, now the good news.

Drinks are half price
at the cafeteria.

Thanks for your patience,
and have a nice day.

Gosh, Adlai, what
are we going to do?

We're never going to make
it through this crowd

to the student union
fallout shelter in time.

Well, there's another
shelter in town,

but town's going to
be just as crowded.

Hey, wait a minute.

I have an idea.

It suddenly occurred to me.

If my hand could pleasure
Trish so greatly,

surely it could replace
a nuclear reactor core.

By now all of Tromaville
lay in darkness.

And just as my hand had brought
Trish to a higher place with me

earlier that evening, it now
brought peace to the students,

and they stopped
their foolish panic.

Soon they rallied behind me to
the main nuclear core control

room, where the highly
skilled technicians valiantly

fought to save Tromaville
from catastrophe.

-Chicken.
-Egg.

Chicken.

Egg.

Chicken.

- Chicken.
- Egg.

- Chicken.
- Egg.

- Chicken.
- Egg.

Chicken.

Young man, I'm going to
have to ask you to leave.

You don't understand.

I've simply got to get
inside that reactor.

Absolutely not.

That is entirely
out of the question.

Why, we may have a very
dangerous situation here,

one that even
trained professionals

may not be able to handle!

Look, this plant
could go up any second,

and you've done all you can.

Why shouldn't you let
me give it a chance?

Out!
Get out!

He's right.

Why not?

Absolutely no chance.

I'd die first.

Look, what have
you got to lose?

Let him in
or we'll rip your head off!

- Yeah!
- Just kill her!

Yeah!

Let's
rip her head off.

- Yeah!
- Kill her!

- Yeah!
- Yeah!

Yeah!
Yeah!

Yeah!

OK.

Go ahead.

ADLAI SMITH
As I gazed

into Trish's beautiful
grasshopper eyes,

I realized that now I had
full control over my power

and could light my hand at will.

I knew that the fate of
Tromaville and the world as we

know it lay in the
power of my hand.

I rushed to the main reactor
with only seconds to spare.

And even though the
reactor attendants

had given up all hope and were
abandoning the power core,

my destiny was to find
me here in the form

of an even greater power.

As I put my hand in
the reactor core,

all the lights of Tromaville
blazed back to life,

and there was much rejoicing.

Trish was so proud.

Now I had discovered
my purpose in life,

that my power was
indeed a force of good,

which could d used for the
betterment of all mankind.

Clean up
that mercury spill.

Mayor Smith is about to
give a press conference.

Conference
schmonference!

After the success

of Class of Nuke 'Em High Part
II, Dad was elected mayor.

Not just because he had really
put Tromaville on the map,

but because, really, he was
the only person who could

find Tromaville on the map.

Ladies and gentlemen, it does
me great pleasure to honor

the person that we honor today.

Not long after the
campus experienced

the tragedy of
subhumanoid meltdown

and the subsequent defeat
of its evil rulers,

my wife gave birth
to a little boy

but sadly passed away afterward.

It was a bleak time
in Tromaville history,

and many people felt our
city was destined to ruin.

But we fought the odds and built
back up stronger than ever.

Victoria, God rest her
souls, both of them,

left me with a part of
her that gave me strength

during those tough times.

And that part of her
stands before you today.

What a beautiful moment.

As newly-elected
mayor of Tromaville,

it does me proud to
make it my first duty

to present my son, Adlai Smith,
with the key to the city.

Good work, son.

Thank you, Dad.

Yes, go ahead, sir.

Hi, is it true that Adlai is
the cleanest source of power

the nuclear plant has ever used?

Yes, in fact, it
is true, which is

why I've created a
new cabinet post...

Minister of Energy, which Adlai
will be the first to fill.

His main responsibility will
be be to power the reactor

during the day and to
charge its reserve batteries

for the night, giving
us the cleanest

burning Tromaville ever.

Meanwhile, Dr. Slag, PhD

was watching his favorite Toxic
Avenger movie on the Trauma

Afternoon Cinema
Classics Theater

when the news came on showing
Mayor Smith's press conference.

He discovered, much
to his surprise,

that his protege,
Dick, had a twin.

Most of all, I am
proud to receive this big key.

Dick has a twin.

What do you mean,
Dr. Slag, PhD?

I just saw Dick's twin brother
on the six o'clock news.

Well, what are we
going to do now?

Just this.

We know that since Dick is
one half of a set of twins,

there must be the
potential within him

for fuller set of powers.

But only if he's joined with one
whose ability compliments his.

We know that our attempts
to create such a being

have failed consistently.

By the way, what were the
results of the latest attempt?

We ended up with a body-less
head with big metal teeth.

What ability could
he possibly have?

Well, he'd make a pretty
damn good bottle opener.

Remind me to have your
eyeballs lanced in the morning.

Yes, sir, Dr. Slag, PhD.

In any event, if we are to
unleash the potential for power

that rests within Dick,
we have no other choice

but to couple him with the
only one who will ever exist

with complimentary powers.

Namely Adlai Smith,
his twin brother.

How are we ever going to
get him to join our ranks?

I know exactly how.

Trust me, Professor
Holt. I have a plan.

I love your plans,
Dr. Slag, PhD.

Thanks
to the power source in my hand,

everything was great
again at the Tromaville

nuclear power facility.

The power was back, on
the annual festivities

were celebrated without a
hitch, and the only problem

was I had to spend half
the day with my hand

in the nuclear reactor core
sitting on a hard chair

and was developing some awful
subhumanoid hemorrhoids,

not to mention a bad
case of the sniffles.

Hey, Adlai, what do you want
for breakfast in the morning?

Oh, oh my.

-Gesundheit.
-Bless you.

Are you OK?

Gross, that's disgusting.

Look at him.

He's taking his hand out.

Hand's dropping.

What happened?

The lights went out.

Hey, bozo,
put your hand back in.

Jeez, Adlai,
we're trying to run

a nuclear power plant here.

All the lights
in Tromaville went out.

Oh, a little boogie
snot never hurt anyone, Adlai.

We're counting on
you for the power.

See you in the morning.

We'll bring you some of that
low-fat yogurt there, Adlai.

That boy didn't have to sneeze.

That was selfish of him.

Hello?

Hi, sweetie.

Hi, beetle bug head.

Even
though I had to sit there most

of the day, I did feel
great about the fact

that the good
students of Tromaville

were able to go about
their own business

studying and
preparing for exams.

But while I was doing
good, Slag was doing bad.

His plan was to use my
twin brother, Dick, to turn

the good students against me.

All right, all
you clones put on your trench

coats to cover up your
disgusting, mutated

bodies so that you
won't be noticed

by the students in the dorm.

Now, get out of here.

While I was sitting

with my hand in
the reactor core,

Dick was duped by the bad guys
to impersonate me and beat up

on the good students.

The students mistook Dick for
me since they had bad eyesight

and mistook everyone.

My name was about to be
dragged through isotopic mud.

Hi, Adlai.

Hey, Adlai, why'd
you dye your hair black?

And I know my father wants
me to work here and all,

but sometimes I think
I'd just rather be some...

Hey, Adlai.

Adlai?

What's got into you?

Don't choke me.

Yo, Adlai, what gives?

What's going on?

Adlai?

Oh, somebody get me a Kleenex.

Adlai.

Oh, stop it, Adlai.

That's Mr. Adlai, sir, to you.

And give me 20% of your
allowance from now on.

Come on, Adlai!

Go, Adlai!

Uh, Kleenex?

Now, students, no
running in the dorm halls.

Safety first.

Now I'll choke the guard again.

Adlai.

I'm fatter than you.

You must die.

I want to have the
worst haircut on campus.

What's going on here?

Male chauvinist pigs!

Oh, she got me.

You kids should be
doing your homework.

Off with your nuts!

You got me.

Campus cop.

You know the dress code, Adlai.

Nevermind.

All bikini girls
back to the truck.

Your name is Susan?

Here, Susan.

That's your boyfriend?

Take that.

This is your dog?

Here.

Hi, Adlai.

Oh.

Why do they call me Adlai?

Isn't that a girl's name?

Something fishy
is going on here.

Watch it, Dick.

Fish head doesn't like
that kind of talk.

It's cold out tonight I'd
give anything for a sweater.

He's cold, Drageddybone.

I'll warm him up.

Oh, I love this part.

Ooh, I'm on fire.

Oh.
Cut!

Cut!

Ow!
Cut!

Cut!

I'm on fire.

I'm on fire!

Oh, JC, cut, quickly!

Yeah.

Yeah.

Oh, we kicked some
good Tromaville butt.

I passed out

from the intensity of
the energy convergence

of me and my brother.

So how was work today, honey?

We had another one of
them plutonium fires today.

Oh, no.

Yeah, I feel a
little dizzy, but they

said I'll be fine, just fine.

Gosh, are you sure
something like that can't

mess with your chromagenes?

Oh, honey, I don't think so.

Come up here.

Yeah.

Gosh, just flip me
like a pancake, baby.

Shh, shh.

Jordan, wait.

I feel so funny being
here in Trish's room.

Don't worry.

We got all the
time in the world.

We got hours.

We're gonna be here
for a long time, honey.

We're gonna be here all day.

If you say so, baby.

We're gonna... we're gonna,
we're... we're... we're done.

We're done?

Yeah.

Oh, thanks.

Gosh, Trish.

I tell you it was
the nuttiest thing.

I was just sitting there,
and all of a sudden

it was like I could picture
that massacre in the dorm

like it was happening
right in front of me.

And the funniest thing is it
was like I was doing it myself,

or like another part of
me was out there doing it.

Well, maybe it has something
to do with that power of yours.

Like, maybe you're psychic too.

Psychic?

Jeez.

But I never had any experiences
like that my life before.

Anyway, there's one
thing I don't need

any psychic ability to know.

What's that?

That I love you, Trish.

Oh, sorry.

Tell me you love me, baby.

Oh, go ahead.

Spit it out.

there's a movement

spreading across the land
and everywhere you roam.

It's a mighty wave of jobless
folks and people without homes.

And you may not have yet felt
the touch of this new age

sweeping through.

But I'm here today to
tell you, my friend,

you can drop your worries.

Be homeless too.

So let's thank the Nukemama
Corporation for creating

this path we now walk upon.

May me acheive the
enlightened path of homeless.

So they can get rid of
us and drop the bomb.

You know, I used
to think when I saw,

like, homeless people wandering
around with no food, no money,

I used to go, that's stupid.

And then I thought,
well, wait a second.

Maybe they don't have a home
and they don't have any money.

So that's not so stupid.

So that is the reason why we,
the students of Troma Tech

are here tonight.

To make a stand.

We are going to suffer with
you each and every night.

No longer are we going to listen
to our stereos, our music,

listen to our telephones,
go to our fridge

with our abundance of food.

Rodeo Drive Pizza delivery!

Oh, boy, I'm famished.

Pizza's here.

That'll be $225.50.

We got the sundried tomatoes.

Mine's with shittake mushroom.

I've got the tuna steak.

Oh, no, I wanted Petrossian
caviar, not beluga!

Watch out!

Kick his ass!

And boy, if I could
only figure out...

No, not my arm.

Please, don't!

No!

I asked you not my arm.

Look out!

The dragon bone.

Adlai, what's the matter?

Burn him.

Burn him.

I'm on fire!

Ah!

I'm on fire!

Stay away from the fence.

It's electrified!

Aah!

It's electrified!

I forgot!

I'm going to smash your
head until your brain oozes

through my fingers.

No!

No!

No!

Let's get out of here.

Let's go to the
grocery store and get

some marshmallows to roast.

Damn, I don't
know what got into me.

I had this college
punk by the throat,

ready to put my fist
through his face.

I mean, I could
practically feel his brains

oozing through my fingers.

What a wimp.

I'm telling
you I couldn't wait.

It's OK.

Don't worry about it.

You subhumanoid putz.

And all of a
sudden, it was like

another person was inside me...

No spine.

...telling me not to do it.

Listen, I've seen
this dozens of times.

Boy, when I was in
the Special Forces,

I used to hide the food locker.

I don't want to hear
your damn war stories.

They bore me.

Don't worry, kid.

You did just fine.

I take it back, Dick.

I'm sorry I called
you a subhumanoid putz.

Cheer up.

Your
attention, please.

All points bulletin.

Be on the lookout
for Adlai Smith.

He's believed to be armed
and dangerous and wearing

a smelly black jacket.

Now, class, you all have copies
of the report, which gives us

reason to believe that
Adlai Smith led last night's

vicious attack on the good,
innocent homeless people

of Tromaville, killing
and injuring 25 people.

Much worse, he
dyed his hair black

and wore an ugly black suit
with a skull on the back.

I believe it's now time for you,
the good students of Tromaville

to go on the attack.

Not me!

Not me!

Not me!

So I said, go ahead,
eat the penguin.

That
-Oh, George!

George!

Can I speak to you for a minute?

Alone?

Sure, what's up?

I'm pregnant.

Who's the lucky fella?

Well, you are.

There's no way.

That's impossible.

Oh, you're the
father of my child.

I haven't made love
to anybody else.

You can't have a baby now.

I... I got my career
at the plant.

I got school.

You know, I got another
little boyfriend.

You're just going to
have to have an abortion.

That's all there is to it.

But I'll tell you what... and
I think I'm a heck of a guy

for even suggesting this.

I'll give you a ride
down to the free clinic.

You will, George?

Gosh, you're so sweet.

Yeah, that's what they all say.

I'll see you tomorrow.

Because of what my evil twin was

doing, all of the good
students of Tromaville

turned against me.

Only Trish was true blue.

I was the luckiest guy
on the face of the Earth.

Gosh, Trish, even though you
were able to tell the police I

was with you when those homeless
supporters were attacked,

I think that guy's story has
hurt my reputation a bit.

Listen, I won't have you
knocking yourself for things

that you didn't do.

Yeah, but what's
really got me worried

is what all this is
going to mean to my dad.

I mean, the first thing
he does as mayor is

appoint me to a cabinet post.

And now his own
son is considered

to be, like, the worst criminal
in Tromaville's history.

Soon they'll catch this
maniac and you won't

have anything to worry about.

Don't worry, all the
students love you, Adlai.

There he is!

Hey, why don't you shut
down the power plant

and save yourself
some trouble of having

to kill us all personally?

Stop Adlai now!

Stop Adlai now.

Come in, Dick.

This is Dr. Slag, PhD.

If you can hear me through
the radio speaker in your ear,

punch the guy in the
orange suit in the face.

Now you are going to do
everything that I tell you.

Everyone, go into
the grocery store

and act like normal shoppers.

Even though it

seemed that Dick
was my evil twin,

it turned out that he wasn't.

He was just a tool
of Dr. Slag, PhD.

And Professor Holt, programmed
to wreak havoc on Tromaville

and tarnish my reputation.

Now, Dick, your mission is

to wreak havoc on Tromaville.

When I give the signal, you
will destroy the grocery store.

Oh, and while you're there, pick
me up a six pack of Troma beer.

If you need to say
anything to me,

speak into the
little toxic avenger

lapel microphone I gave you.

And whatever you do, make
sure you look into the store's

closed circuit TV cameras.

But I don't understand.

It doesn't make any
sense for me to show

my face into the camera.

I thought the idea was
to terrorize this town

and not let anyone
know who it is.

Listen, you have your orders.

So go to it.

Stop challenging the
wisdom of your superiors.

Sir, yes sir.

Now, attack!

Oh, my!

Ooh, clone fever!

Need a hand?

Here!

The good,
the bad, the subhumanoid.

It's the latest movie
from Mackle and Lloyd.

Hello?

Hello, son.

Hi, it's your dad, the mayor.

Hi, Dad.

Dad, your respect is everything
to me, and I love you.

And I love you too.

Dad, that
guy in the black jacket

wreaking havoc on
Tromaville... that's not me!

Well, that's what I was
meaning to talk to you about.

Dad, I'm being framed.

Don't you believe me?

Of course I believe
you, but the problem

is no one else was
with you at the time

besides that
girlfriend of yours,

the one that used to
be your wet nurse.

I am the mayor, and as such I
will be able to keep the police

off your back for
the time being,

at least until they
find some evidence.

Evidence?

The way you're
talking, it sounds

like you don't even trust me.

Well, yes, I trust you.

Well, you know I've only
been alive for two years,

so you really don't
know me that long.

Of course I don't, but
it did look like you

in the grocery store on that
videotape with black hair

and a tasteless leather jacket.

I mean, I wouldn't stake
my political career

on your innocence.

You don't believe me!

No, no, I didn't
mean it like that.

Listen, I think it would
be best for both of us

if you just took some
time off and sort

of laid low for a while.

You know I can arrange
it with your dean.

Thanks, Dad.

But I'm going to try to
figure things out on my own.

What if I give you a call later?

OK, son, call me later.

No, wait.

Better let me call you.

I'll do it from a
payphone or something

so they can't trace
the call back to me.

All right, bye.

All right, goodbye.

Even though I was innocent,

I didn't want to hurt
my father's reputation.

So I decided to pack my
bags and moved to east

Tromaville and go into hiding.

Mr. Smith?

Can I help you, sir?

Yes, I think you can.

I want to talk to you about the
crime you've been accused of.

Oh, another reporter.

Well, you know I maintain
that I'm innocent

and I have nothing more to say.

And I think you have to leave.

No, no, no.

I believe that you're innocent.

I represent a branch of
the Justice Department

that deals in cases like
yours, so I want to help.

You really think I'm innocent?

I know it for a fact.

What do you want?

It's not what I want.

It's what you want.

With that all-American image
you built for yourself,

I think there's probably
nothing you want more

than to clear your good name.

Think about it.

All the good you've done.

Helping the homeless,
fighting bigotry,

staying faithful to your
girlfriend, and, of course,

saving the boll weevil.

Look, you leave the
weevil out of this.

Well, you'd hate for
the Boll Weevil Society

to strike your name
from its records

just because some psychopath
committed some crimes

and blamed them on you.

Please, please, no more.

I'm offering you a
chance to redeem yourself.

Don't you want that?

Well, yes, but how?

You have a special power,
but you never dreamed

how really special it can be.

Come work for me, and
I'll show you how.

As long as you do what I ask.

Like what?

Now this is where we
have to be open minded.

The plan I have in mind might
involve turning the entire town

of Tromaville, and
probably the surrounding

areas like New York City, to
a puddle of radioactive slag.

Are you serious?

We could always try to evacuate
the areas first, although we

probably won't bother.

You are serious!

Well, you've got me all
wrong, pal, because I'll never

use my power to
cause harm to anyone,

even if I have to live in
disgrace the rest of my life.

I was afraid you'd say that.

Bring in the clones.

Bring in the clones.

OK, we'll have to
do this the hard way.

Take him to the hideout.

Because
of her exposure to the remnants

of the subhumanoid
meltdown syndrome,

Elaina's pregnancy
proceeded rapidly.

Aloha.

George, aren't you
going to come with me?

Honey, I got a
reputation to think of.

OK, I guess I understand.

Wish me luck?

You give 'em hell, sweetheart.

Break a leg.

OK.

Don't do it.

Don't kill it.

Let him live!

Don't kill it!

Don't kill it!

Please, let me in.

Hey, look at that
bird up there!

I-I gotta have an abortion!

Don't kill it!

Don't kill it!

-Don't kill it!
-Don't kill it!

Don't kill it!

Don't kill it!

Oh, my God.

I'm going into labor!

Please, my baby's coming out.

Oh, no.

Here it comes!

Kill it!

Kill it!

Kill it!

Here comes Trish now.

By now all the good people of
Tromaville were against me.

Even my father doubted me.

And in the end, only
Trish was still behind me.

But while I was locked
up in the hideout,

my twin brother was sent
to impersonate me and make

the moves on my one true love.

Zoom in on her heiny.

The director loves those shots.

Professor Holt,

ever the master of
disguises, was on the scene

live with a clone video crew.

Adlai, are you crazy?

Everyone's turned
against you, and they're

still going to recognize
you in that black jacket

and black hair.

What are you doing
out in the open?

You're supposed to stay out
of sight until this murder

thing blows over.

I know, I, uh...

Well, it was pretty brave of
you to come out in the open

where everybody hates
you just to see me.

I didn't think you
did those things.

Well, I didn't know
anybody knew I was.

You're so modest.

You know, I really do miss that.

What happened to your forehead?

I cut myself shaving.

Well, come on.

Let's get you out of sight.

Wait till Adlai
sees these videos of Trish

with his big twin Dick.

When Dr. Slag, PhD

informed me that I
had a twin brother,

I was really tied up in knots.

I think the idea of me having
a twin brother is ridiculous,

especially one that
has a power like mine.

Well, it's not precisely like
yours, although it is similar.

However, our research shows
that the two of you in tandem

have the astounding ability
to turn inert objects

into radioactive ones.

Just think about
terrorist organizations

paying us to turn a few hundred
pounds of sand into plutonium.

You don't understand.

I'll never go along
with a plan like that,

especially if it involves
destroying Tromaville.

Ooh, the place I
love most on Earth.

Check focus
on her melon-heavy breasts.

Gee, Adlai, those
boll weevil fundraisers

haven't been the
same without you.

And there's one other
thing I miss too.

And now I know you can't be
giving up a day of homework

for a day of passion.

Claire?

Wrong movie, Toxie.

Where were we?

Trish
had mistaken my twin Dick

for me and was so upset about
the bruises on my twin's face

that she did what came
naturally and comforted him

the only way she knew how.

I've already lobotomized
your twin brother.

Perhaps I might have to
do the same with you.

Of course, we could always
torture your girlfriend

in front of you.

That usually seems to
work in cases like this.

I don't have a twin.

And leave Trish out of this.

Of course I will try to
leave her out of this.

We just have to figure a way
to leave your twin out of her.

What do you mean?

Take a look.

And now, live from
Trish's sweat-stained bed

sheets, we bring
you Trish herself

and your very own twin Dick.

You're being so rough.

I've never known
you to be like this.

You bring out the
beast in me, Adlai.

I never felt this way before.

Oh, my God.

It is true.

Remember,
this is live.

Oh, yes!

Oh.

Oh.

I love this show.

I'm going to get you for this.

My, my, the nicest boy in the
world is getting a bit testy.

I had to
resort to drastic measures.

As much as I hated to do it and
had avoided it for seven reels,

I decided that now,
after 45 minutes

of not doing it at all...

What... what's
that you're doing?

- I
- would use my brain.

I must get this message
across to Dick, from my brain

to his brain.

Yes.

Oh, yes!

Adlai, oh.

Dick was slow to react

since his bodily functions
were already engaged,

but I got the message
out through his hand.

Now our brains and
bodies were one.

I'm not Adlai!

I'm not Adlai.

I'm a slave of Dr. Slag, PhD.

Oh, shit!

Pull out, Dick!

I'm not Adlai.

Slag has Adlai.

Slag's turning Tromaville
into a radioactive stockpile.

Disregard
anything he says, ma'am.

He's mad.

Who are you?

Special security, Ma'am.

Hired by the mayor himself.

This man is not allowed
outside our custody

until his arraignment.

However, he snuck
away to see you.

Now, don't tell
anyone about this.

We regret any inconvenience
this may have caused you.

Wait a minute.

What does he mean,
he's not Adlai?

Trish decided
to call my dad, the mayor.

And even though Dad loved me, he
had a good sense of priorities

and still wouldn't risk
his reputation to help me.

Hello, Mayor Smith, please.

However, he
would tell Trish what to do.

Meanwhile, the force of
combining my brain with Dick's

knocked out all the power in the
hideout, and me along with it.

The only thing I remembered
was a dull throbbing

between my legs.

Something's gone wrong.

I didn't count on this
idiot being able to control

his brother's functions.

I should have never left this
damn project in the control

of those scientists.

It's too late anyway.

The Nukemama Corporation
shall get their wish,

and I shall become
supreme ruler.

My dad, the mayor,

told Trish to do
what comes naturally

and rally the good
students of Tromaville

to tell them about
Slag and Holt.

So off Trish went,
although due to midterms,

spring break, and a Screen
Actors Guild strike,

the crowd was small.

Everyone, listen to me.

I have proof here that
Adlai isn't the Jekyll

and Hyde of Tromaville.

No.

No, come on.

Look, a note written to me
by Adlai through the hands

of his evil twin.

An evil man named Slag and
a Professor Holt who smokes

cigars has Adlai imprisoned.

They commanded his twin to
destroy Adlai's reputation.

If we don't stop Slag now, he's
going to turn this whole town

into a radioactive stockpile.

Yeah, this Trish is a liar.

We saw what her boyfriend
tried to do to our friends.

He pretended he was a hero and
then terrorized us all instead.

C'mon, let's grab her and find
out what she's really after.

Good citizens of Tromaville,
make way, make way.

This is Mayor Smith speaking.

Now you've all heard the stories
of how I love Tromaville,

and you've all heard the stories
of how I had to try and save

this very school from
certain destruction

just a few short years ago.

Well, I wouldn't
lie to you, even

to save the life of my own
son, because that's how much I

love this city and all of you.

So you have to believe me when
I say that this young woman

speaks the truth.

And if you don't
believe me, I brought

along a nurse from the
hospital where Adlai was born.

Yes, it is true.

I have the medical records
here from two years ago

when Adlai was born.

Here, I'll pass them
around for you all to see.

It's true.

Before Adlai was born, Adlai's
mother weighed 140 pounds.

After Adlai was born,
she weighed 100 pounds.

Now Adlai weighed
20 pounds at birth,

so that leaves 20
pounds unaccounted for.

Now the only logical
conclusion is that Adlai's

mother gave birth to twins.

And one of them was
stolen and brought up

to be an evil killer.

They're the ones
that kidnapped Adlai!

Yeah!

They're the ones
that kidnapped Adlai.

Yeah!

Let's go save Adlai!

Yeah!

Wait a minute.

Those people are
professional killers.

You can't go after
them unprotected,

Why don't you lead
us into battle?

You've done it before.

Yeah!

No.

Sadly, after my wife
Victoria died giving birth,

I took a vow since
that day two years ago

never, ever to take another
human life, no matter how

worthless and evil.

But I'll give you some
pointers on how to do it!

Here beneath the power
plant, the deepest

underground point
in Tromaville, is

where we will make our demands.

If they are not met, we
will take you and your twin

and turn the bedrock
under Tromaville

into a nuclear furnace.

It's all just theory, Slag.

It may never even work.

Well then, there, now.

We'll just have to put our
theory to the test, won't we?

Bring in Dick!

So there really was a
part of me out there.

Anyone who has a brother

knows the emotion,
the incredible joy

that welled up in my heart.

So there really was a
part of me out there.

Everyone in the room,

even though they were bad,
was overcome by the moment.

And I still couldn't
help feeling love,

even though all I knew and
loved was about to become

a nuclear nugget.

All right.

Family reunion's over.

I want you two to
grab that croissant

and meld your powers to
turn it into the biggest

piece of plutonium
Tromaville's ever seen.

You'll never get me to do it.

Except that way.

Oh, well, didn't work.

What a damn shame.

Other hand, Adlai.

Use your other hand.

My God, it works!

With this at my fingertips,
I can rule everything.

Dad did not
want to get violent because he

was a committed pacifist.

Ooh, I
think I doodied my pants.

And he
didn't want to get his rented

tux dirty, so he honored his
pledge not to take any life

and kept his violence
to a PG-13 level.

Looks like you underestimated
the good people of Tromaville.

They're coming to get you now.

Don't kid yourself.

Squirrels, get out there and
stop these friends of Adlai's.

The Nukemama Corporate

gang and their vicious clone
warriors seemed invincible.

But when the good people of
Tromaville worked together,

they could do anything.

They did what came naturally and
went after the wolf dog clone

with rolled up newspapers.

And discovered this was a
clone's one fatal weakness.

The rest of the
clones were quickly

polished off in this manner.

Yeah.

Yeah, people of Tromaville!

Adlai!

Adlai!

Adlai!

Adlai, we're winning.

Don't worry, we're winning!

Stop right there, young lady.

Thanks for the update
on the action upstairs.

Looks like we have no other
choice but to take Tromaville

and the world down with us.

Dick, let's see your best.

Combine your power with
Adlai's and turn Tromaville

into a nuclear stockpile.

No way.

I won't do it.

OK, then.

I guess I get to shoot you.

Dick, stop Slag!

Adlai's your brother!

Are you nuts?

Stay away from my brother.

I trained you, you idiot.

You can't beat me.

Nice hair.

Oh, oh God.

Get off of
me, you little slut!

Get your melon- heavy breasts
off the honorable Dr. Slag,

PhD., or else I'm going
to shoot you in the ass.

Yee-haw!

Oh, my eye!

That's my eye!

You idiot.

You hit my eye.

Oh, so sorry, Dr.
Slag, honorable PhD.

I'll get you help.

Not until Tromaville is
nothing but a nuclear stockpile.

Now, guys, let's do it.

Or I kill the girl!

Oh, please.

Please.

Dick and I decided

to do what came naturally.

Our subhumanoid
instincts took over

and caused us to arm
wrestle, which of course

led to us melting down.

Uh, Dick, is
it my imagination,

or are you beginning
to deteriorate?

Uh, well, Adlai.

Hate to tell you this,
but you're looking

a little grim there yourself.

Uh-oh.

Oh.

Even
though we loved each other

as brothers, the
power made us merge

ourselves back into a primordial
egg surrounded by green goo.

Crazy, man.

Trish picked us

up and did what came naturally.

She immediately took us
to the nuclear reactor

and tossed us in.

Careful on
those stairs, Trish.

You don't want to
drop us, do you?

Adlai, once we get into
the nuclear reactor, what

do we do?

I don't know, Dick,
but could you move over?

Your foot's in my mouth.

Oi vey.

It's
crowded in here.

We're melting!

It's only a movie.

Something's coming out.

What is it, a loaf of bread?

No.

It's a baby.

Have a stogie, old fogey.

Hi, my name is Mushy Smith.

I'm a fourth
generation subhumanoid.

I was created because Adlai
Smith and his twin brother

Dick merged their powers
together and melted down

in a primordial egg
surrounded by green goo

in order to save the good
people of Tromaville.

I was also created
because talking

babies have proven to be quite
profitable in movies recently.

I am proud that my
sons Dick and Adlai had

the courage to melt down
into a primordial egg

surrounded by green goo.

The evil Dr. Slag, PhD.

Has been killed.

The Nukemama corporate
powers are defeated,

and the power is permanently
on, with low cost,

clean, efficient, and
properly supervised energy.

So in recognition of
outstanding devotion

to the town of Tromaville, I
hereby dedicate this memorial

to my sons Dick and Adlai.

Say, those are nice.

Those are nice.

Where's the baby you
pulled out of the nuclear core?

Here he is.

We had a tough time getting all
of that green crap off of him,

but a little sandpaper and a
dip in Clorox did the trick.

Oh, that
is the cutest baby.

What a pretty baby.

In tribute to Dick and Adlai
and how they saved the people

of Tromaville, I hereby
dedicate this memorial to all

the good people of Tromaville.

Isn't that nice?

Oh, I'm so very proud.

Delightful!

Entitled Two Free
Spirits, this monument

reminds us of how the
Tromaville twins enhanced

our freedom and our lives.

And of how cheap
Tromaville is for not

affording a statue
that even remotely

resembles the damn twins.

Oh, that's a terrible thing.

Terrible.

Trying to save money.

But this baby represents
a new beginning,

a new beginning for us all.

For you and for me.

This is a rebirth, a fresh
start for all mankind.

This is my child.

This is your child.

This is a child of the universe.

And as such, this infant
represents the future.

So of course, we must nurture
it and permit it to grow.

And most importantly, this
baby represents Troma movies

of the future, so of course
we must love it, teach

it, and indeed breastfeed it.

So Adlai and Dick did not die.

They were reborn.

This is a Troma movie,
so dry those eyes

and rejoice, because now there's
Class of Nuke 'Em High Part IV.

Oh boy, part IV?

Yeah.

Great news.

That's great news.

Excuse me, do you know
where the end credits are?

Can you direct me to the end...

Oh, why'd you do that?

Oh.

Due to the recent
economic difficulties facing

small independent
film companies,

the producers of
this motion picture

have been forced to sell
classified advertising

space in these end credits.

We apologize for
any inconvenience

this may have caused.

If you
would like to find out

how you can advertise in the
end credits of a Troma movie,

please send the stamped,
self-addressed envelope

to Tromaville Studios,
Tromaville, New Jersey.

Or contact your
local Congressperson.

Thank you for your patronage
and have a nice day.