Original subtitles

We'll be right back.

Excellent, Shark Crew.

Jab, your time was... Totally jobulous?

That's right, dude -ster. Do the same tomorrow and you'll be first to cross

finish line.

Let's lock up. I'm ready for some refueling myself.

You sure it's safe to leave the turbo, Jab, here?

With garage security and my own security system, absolutely.

All right!

Oh, man.

My new thermal motion detector grid will trigger the garage alarm system if so

much as a sea slug gets anywhere near it.

It's audacious, Benzerino, and so is my appetite. Come on.

Delegates from all over the world are gathering in Fission City today to sign

unprecedented free trade agreement.

The delegates are being greeted by the mayor.

The formal signing will take place tomorrow.

If that idiotic mayor ever stops bowing...

Everything's ready. How about the gene

flare bomb?

Yeah, a study in perfection.

No one, not even that annoying Ben, can take this thing apart.

Ah.

All clear.

Security! Freeze right there!

Whatever you say!

Ninety -nine.

Socket wrench.

Screwdriver.

Excellent. The street sharks are in for a very big surprise.

And remember, today's cross -country Grand Prix has closed many streets to

through traffic.

So if you have somewhere to go, better leave early.

Jab, you read me?

It's your dangerously loud and clear.

Stay focused, guy. You can bring this home.

All right!

Way to go, Jabberman.

That's it, Jab!

Keep a light touch, Jab.

Come in, Jab.

You can't reach him. I jammed the signal.

Who is this?

Paranoid? Let me get straight to the point.

Your shark needs to swim fast, like 65 miles per hour fast, if he wants to stay

in the race. And when he does drop below 65, perhaps at the finish line with all

those unsuspecting spectators, ka -bam! You planted a gene slam bomb on the

turbo jab?

That's right.

I can't wait.

To see the result.

A gene slam bomb on the turbo, Jab. But your alarm didn't alert us. He overrode

it somehow.

We gotta warn Jab.

I'll get the shark force, Jab.

Something doesn't add up here, guys.

Why would Paranoid go to all the trouble to sabotage the turbo and then tell us

about it?

Because he's a psychopathic egomaniac who's sure his plan won't fail?

It is kind of weird, even for Dr.

Wackanoid.

Better take a shortcut, Ben.

Got it.

Never thought we'd be in this race.

There's a radio with the scrambler back there somewhere.

Piranha won't be able to jam its signal.

I'm on it. Here.

Now all we have to do is get it to jab.

Sounds right up your alley, Streak.

Draw some. My kind of gig.

Time to take the shark pool lane.

What the?

Come in. Jab, come in. Jab here.

Don't slow down.

I wasn't planning on it.

Uh, piece of crab cake.

Uh,

would someone like to tell me what's going on?

We think you're packing a gene -slamming bomb, rigged to go off if your speed

drops below 65.

You're sawing me.

See anything unusual, Jab?

Ben, please tell me you installed some new kind of carburetor with a blinking

light. Sorry. Hey, guys, that baby's turning into a thymazoid.

Uh, remind me not to send Dr.

Mentazoid a thank you note.

Guys, forget the race. I'm moving this thing out of the city.

Good idea. We're right behind you, Jab.

Let me out, Benz. I've got this hunch there's got to be more to this.

Stay in touch.

You know I will.

First stop, Dr.

Paranormal's office.

He quit the race. He's on the freeway.

Of course. What else would those meddling street sharks do?

I don't get it, Doc. If you wanted the bomb to explode at the finish line,

you tell them?

Never mind that. Just get out there and make sure that car drops below 65 before

he leaves the city limit. I can't bear to see a perfectly good gene slam bomb

to waste.

What's that for?

Then get going!

Okay, guys, what's the plan?

If I can get to the device, maybe I can disarm it.

Hear that, Slam Man?

Shimmy topside, and I'll give you a lift.

Ready for pickup.

You're such an audacious bum!

Punch it! Punch it hard!

No! Oh, now what?

Oh, great.

How am I supposed to go 65 through that?

50 gallons of oil slick. Let's see him drive through that.

Oil? Oh, these sleviates are a real pain in the fin.

Yeah!

You get to tell the doctor.

No way. It was your idea.

You tell him. Let's come up with another plan.

I know it's not right to look through people's mail, but when it's a low -life

bottom feeder named Paranoid, I make an exception.

Hello? The International Trade Symposium?

He's the keynote speaker?

Seems legit.

Huh!

Hmm.

Better follow...

Can't disarm the bomb without causing it to blow.

Speak to me.

Rip, I may have a lead on what Paranoid's up to.

What have you got?

He's headed for the International Trade Conference.

They're signing that big trade agreement today.

Uh, guys, I hate to break this to you, but I'm getting kind of low on gas.

Uh, great, Lena. Stay on it. We kind of have a major emergency here. I'll get

back to you.

Jab must be in real trouble.

There has to be another way. The only sure way I know of to destroy a virus is

to incinerate it. But that'll kill Jab.

I don't like it any better than you guys.

Guys, do the math.

Thousands of innocent people or me.

Last chance, can you?

Wait a second.

Be with me, guys.

Gently, gently.

Symbolizing the new era of free and open enterprise this trade agreement will

bring, I present to you this small token.

Free trade, controlled completely by me,

once my gene -washing bomb detonates.

Aye.

Okay.

Everybody got the plan?

I hit the downhill as fast as I can.

Jab, I can give you eight seconds. The faster you're going, the better, but get

it up to 75 at least.

And that'll give Jab enough time to disengage.

It's gonna have to.

Fins up, guys. We got company.

Watch it, Jab.

Bait, Breath, and Squid Lips are back for round two.

Arming fire!

Yes! We got him this time!

Don't be so shocked, you are!

Guys hate to break up the party. I've got Lena on the line. Let me conclude

this final wish.

Prosperity for all.

Once my ice sculpture melts... Did you say ice?

Yes, and it's starting to melt. Is there such a thing as a temperature

-controlled gene -washing bomb?

There sure is.

Do what you can to keep it from melting.

We're on our way.

Rigging the turbo jab was just a decoy to keep us busy.

Yeah, while paranoid Gene washes all those trade delegates.

Only one response to that.

Shark attack!

Keep it from melting. Easy for you to say.

Hold it right there.

Where's your security badge?

My security badge?

Gee, where'd it go?

What's going on?

All right, Street Shark.

Plus again, Dr.

P. No!

Stop him!

Coming at you, Street!

I'm going on a humungo burger run. You want to come?

Not hungry.

How about a movie?

No, thanks.

Game of chess?

How about going for a ride in this?

Whoa, now you're talking.

Benz, bud, you've outdone yourself.

So, what are y 'all waiting for?

The Michael Burgers are calling.