All language subtitles for Wacky Races s02e08 Formula Racing.eng

(THEME MUSIC PLAYING)

(SNICKERING)

Hey, hey, race fans.
Brick Crashman here.

Our favorite wacky racers
had a meeting with race owner P.T. Barnstorm.

That was scheduled to start
15 minutes ago,

but so far
no racers have shown up.

Brick, just who
are you talking to?

The TV audience.

There's no one here but us.

Sorry, force of habit.

As a celebrity

I crave constant attention
and validation.

How sad.

Yes, it is.

(GASPS) They're late again.

I do declare, sometimes,
they act just like children.

-(GLASS SHATTERING)
-(BOTH GASP)

(CHEERS)

(LAUGHS)

-(GLASS SHATTERS)
-(SCREAMING)

(THUDS)

Tally-ho! (LAUGHING)

(YELPING)

(EXPLODES)

You know, we have doors.

Sorry we're late, P.T.

But we have a good reason.

We were racing to see
who gets the rest of Muttley's hoagie.

(GASPS)

It's mine!

(GROANS) I got here first.

-(PENELOPE STRAINING)
-Hoagie?

-PETER: Mine!
-No, unhand my...

(QUARRELING)

BARNSTORM:
Oh, for goodness' sakes.

You're competing
for a sandwich

-that was in the commode.
-(BUZZING)

-DASTARDLY: Mmm...
-(QUARRELING CONTINUES)

(HORN BLARING)

(GLASS SHATTERING)

(RUMBLING)

(SHATTERING)

Dang, I thought
I brought the loud one.

Now, I don't wanna hear
another infantile interruption

from any of you...

DASTARDLY: Infantile?

Madam, could someone
without maturity of judgment

turn a surplus
military explosive

into a racing rocket?

ALL: Ooh.

-Consumer Products
will love it. -Does it come in pink?

Did you bring one of your
crazy exploding gizmos into my office?

Absolutely not.

This is my finest creation.

(EXPLODES)

-Richard Millhouse Dastardly.
-(COUGHS)

I'll just get a broom
to tidy up.

(SIGHS)

Racers, as you know,
our audience is getting tired

of the same old madcap,

death defying,
barely legal races week after week.

So, I hired a few
weapons experts

to upgrade the old race track.

-(SAW WHIRRING)
-(MENACING LAUGH)

BARNSTORM: Into something so incredibly insane...

Unwise and dangerously bizarre...

That children should
never be allowed to see it on television.

Who would let a child
watch television?

Terrible, terrible parents.

-But, I just found out
Standards and Practices -(SCREAMING)

won't let you actually drive
on the dang thing.

-(ALL GROANING)
-Why not?

Oh, there's just no way
your cars are fast enough

to survive a lap
around the track now.

I.Q.: Huzzah!

My newest invention
will fix this!

Presenting the
Chron-o-matic 5,000.

It mocks time.

It brings a quivering humanity

to the very brink
of infinite power.

(CACKLES)

-Was that there
the whole time? -(WHISPERS) Just go with it.

What's it do?

It speeds up time.

It makes people faster?

Or turns them into
puddles of bubbling goo.

I haven't tested it.

PENELOPE: Who cares?
PETER: Sounds fine to me.

(ARGUING)

(GROANING)

-(CRACKING)
-(GRUNTING)

(GROANING) Huh?

(ALARM BEEPING)

Get down!

(ELECTRIC WHIRRING)

(GASPING)

-(GROANING)
-Uh-oh.

PETER: Oh.

Wait. (SNIFFS)

What's that smell?

Oh, no...

Anything but that!

-(GASPS)
-(GROUP COOING)

Oh, audiences love babies.

Great job, I.Q.

Uh, I.Q.?

(MURMURING)

Ugh, only one thing to do now.

(COOING)

Hold it. Baby car racing.

It's a gold mine.

Network Standards
and Practices will never allow it.

Curse you, corporate guardians

of society's ever shifting
moral compass.

Okay, we better
change 'em back.

I don't think I.Q.
is gonna be much help.

(BLOWING RASPBERRY)

-(SIGHS)
-There's a sign here that says,

"If unintended
age reduction occurs

"immediately call
IQ's Mommy in California."

-(MURMURING)
-FEMALE VOICE:Calling IQ's Mommy.

-ROBOT: Eliminate.
-(GROANING)

Hello, offspring,

to what do I owe this unanticipated matriarchal contact?

Oh, that's handy.

-Seems one of I.Q.'s
flashy contrapt-a-bob thingies-Eliminate.

turned my racers into babies.

Can you help us fix it?

-Of course. -Eliminate.

Simply push the reverse button on the back of the machine.

There's no button back here.

-Uh-oh. -(MAN SCREAMING)

I knew we forgot something.

Just goes to show you,

if you want something done right, let computers do it.

Computers never make mistakes.

They do inevitably turn evil, though.

-(EXPLODES)
-(SNICKERING)

So, all you need to do is snap this button onto the back of the machine.

-ROBOT: Eliminate. -Whoa!

Seems simple enough.

Can you send us
the that there button?

-Eliminate. -I may be a bit busy for a bit.

-Better drop by and get it yourself. -Eliminate.

(STATIC)

Saddle up, Brick,
we're heading to Silicon Valley.

Road trip!

I'll download
inappropriately loud music.

(UPBEAT MUSIC PLAYING)

And I'll get my collection
of Bavarian yodeling's greatest hits.

-Uh-uh, uh-uh.
-Not so fast, Dicky.

Somebody has
to watch the kids,

and they've obviously grown
attached to you.

You can't leave me with
this mobile germ hive, P.T.

-It's inhuman.
-You are babysitting.

And they better
still be alive when I'm back. Or else.

-Let's hit the bricks, Brick.
-(UPBEAT MUSIC PLAYING)

-(MUSIC STOPS)
-(SIGHS)

-(MUSIC STARTS)
-Mmm.

-(MUSIC STOPS)
-(GROANS)

Muttley, get these
pediatric parasites off me.

Uncle Dicky's in charge now.

So you can cut
the cutesy charm and the coy looks.

-(BABIES GIGGLING)
-I'm onto you.

(BABIES CRYING)

And that doesn't work either.

I can take as much
as you can give.

(CRYING CONTINUES)

Muttley...

These babies
are definitely defective.

I've tried everything
to get them to stop their continuous crying.

Harsh words,

stern looks,

bribery, extortion.

-Small munitions fire.
-(EXPLOSION)

Nothing worked!

(WHISPERING INAUDIBLY)

No, no, no, I won't do it.

You can't make me.

(CLASSICAL MUSIC PLAYING)

-(COOING)
-(CRASHES)

-(COOING)
-(CRASHES)

Huh? (MURMURING)

-(MUTTLEY CLEARS THROAT)
-Oh, very well.

-Happy?
-(GIGGLING)

(MUTTERING)

(SLURPING)

None for me.

Because I hate you. (EXCLAIMS)

(PETER LAUGHING)

-(WAILING)
-(BABIES CRYING)

I don't know about you,
but I can't take any more.

(YELPING)

(HORSE NEIGHING)

Drat, what's happening?

Am I dreaming?

(SCREAMING)

Who's just
the cutest baby ever?

(LAUGHS) Tickle-tickle.

Time to change the baby.

Goo-goo, blah-blah.

Say "Uncle Peter."

Say it. Say it.

-(GROUP LAUGHING)
-(DASTARDLY CRYING)

Don't let them get me,
I'm a big boy. I'm a big boy.

Uh? Oh.

-(CRASH)
-What the...

(GROUP CHEERING)

(TIRES SCREECHING)

(ALL MURMURING)

(I.Q. CHEERING)

I demand you desist
this dangerous demonstration at once.

(BABIES COOING)

-DASTARDLY: Ow.
-(BONES CRUSHING)

-DASTARDLY: Ow.
-(THUD)

(SNICKERING)

Huh?

Uh-oh.

-(FIRE ROARING)
-(LASERS FIRING)

(SHARK ROARS)

(BABIES GIGGLING)

Oh, P.T. will fire me for sure

if they're ground
into baby flavored protein shakes.

This will require
the most advanced,

-powerful, and fastest vehicle
at our disposal. -(BELL RINGS)

-(BELL RINGING)
-All right, but I'm driving.

-Drat!
-(LASERS FIRING)

(BABIES GIGGLING)

-(ZAPPING)
-(EXCLAIMING)

(BABIES LAUGHING)

-(ROARS)
-Drat! Ow.

-Drat.
-(ROAR)

(THUDDING)

(SCREAMING)

(BABIES GIGGLING)

Drat... (YELPING)

Oh, oh, oh...

-(DASTARDLY SCREAMING)
-(GLASS SHATTERING)

(EXCLAIMING) Drat.

Drat.

Drat.

Drat.

-(SQUISHING)
-Drat.

(LAUGHS) Missed me!

(SCREAMS) Drat.

(PENELOPE CHEERING)

-(THUDS)
-At last.

The sweet succor
of secure safety.

(EXPLODES)

(BABIES CHEERING)

This isn't playtime,
you sticky fingered, street urchins.

Muttley, take these
rambunctious runts under oversight at once.

That's the last of the
measly mites.

Uh, no. Wait.

-(GURGLING)
-(BUTTONS BEEPING)

Peter, stop playing
with that catapult trigger.

(LAUGHS UNCOMFORTABLY)

-No.
-I hate children.

Muttley!

(EXPLODES)

GROUP: Ooh.

(SNICKERING)

(BABIES SNORING)

We're back.

Hi, everyone,
this is Brick again.

You won't believe
the adventures we've had.

But we got
the de-aging button back

and now we can turn
the baby racers back.

-Oh.
-ROBOT: Eliminate.

(BRICK STRAINING)

It looks like Dastardly
got the easy job.

Say, where is Dastardly?

(MURMURING)

(SNICKERING)

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