Original subtitles

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.