Original subtitles

[yelling]

♪ I got ya with my winning smile ♪

♪ I'm a living lesson in flair and style ♪

♪ You just can't help but stare at my savoir-faire ♪

♪ I'm Nouveau, Deco, Roman-Greco ♪

♪ Rococo, Barroco ♪

♪ Be-bop, hip-hop, flip-flop ♪

Somebody stop me!

♪ Pretty viridian faces like mine ♪

Don't come a dime a dozen, I stand out of the crowd!

♪ Babe when they made me Yeah they broke the mold! ♪

Wholesome and kind, staid and refined, totally out of my mind!

♪ Arch-villains and ne'er-do-wells ♪

♪ Had better learn to decorate prison cells ♪

Green goes with anything if they ask, see?

♪ Well there's one last thing I gotta sing about ♪

Open up wide and really shout!

Whoa, look out!

♪ This is the Mask! ♪♪

Smokin'!

[snoring]

[truck beeping]

[crashing]

Oh!

Ooh, I hate trash day!

Hey, buddy! I wanna talk to you!

Oh, yeah?

And what might be the nature of this discussion?

[gulps] Well, um, you see, sir.

Thursday nights we have to count all the money down at the bank,

where I work,

and I don't get to bed until really late,

so I was wondering, uh, if you could just hold down the noise

a little teensy bit on F-Friday mornings?

Oh!

Perhaps you'd prefer me to retrieve your trash at a later hour?

Would say 9:00 or 10:00 be more convenient?

Well, sure.

[chuckles] I mean, 10:00, gosh, that'd be just great.

Thanks!

Ow!

Milo, you've just witnessed the process

which separates man from the beasts.

Oh, no offense.

Sure, we coulda used coarse language and duked it out...

- [machine whirring] - [barking]

But civilized verbal communication,

that is so much more effective. And frankly...

I'll be back to pick up your trash at 10:00 sharp.

[laughs]

[coughing]

All right! All right, that is it.

Stanley Ipkiss lets no one push him around!

Well, actually Stanley Ipkiss lets everyone push him around.

But I know someone who doesn't.

[growling]

Don't try to stop me, Milo.

Civilized verbal communication has its place, that's fine.

That garbage man needs to get his can kicked.

[whines]

Stinkin'!

Well, well, what do you know?

Haven't seen one of these since my last birthday party.

[orchestra playing]

"Look behind you"?

[laughing]

Yow!

Oh, careful now. Watch your step.

Ha! I'm not falling for that old banana-peel gag!

Well, actually this is a new one.

And it's falling for you.

♪ And that takes care of the weasel ♪♪

[grunts]

Chew on that, freak face!

[laughing]

[sighs]

Ugh, reminds me of kissing Mrs. Beaman.

You!

[growling]

[screams]

[chuckles]

Nice going, Milo.

Now, be a good boy and give me the mask.

[growls]

Oh, Milo!

I don't wanna play this game.

Hey, mutt! You make a great moving target!

[laughs]

[grunts]

[yells]

[laughs]

Milo, I'm gonna be late for work!

[growling]

Milo!

That's not our bone. Put it down.

Good boy.

Oh, Milo!

[whistle blows]

All right, bone thief, hold it right there.

Uh-oh.

[panting]

I gotta find Milo and get him out of here before...

[growls]

[yelps]

[roaring]

Wa! [Grunts]

Hey, Mr. PJs! What are you, scared?

These are just animatronic robots.

[roaring slows]

See?

Huh?

Oh, yeah, yeah.

Yeah, sure, I mean, a-animatronic.

[chuckles] I know that.

Good stuff, huh?

Hey! Did you steal that bone?

The b...?

Well, no. You see, actually what happened was...

Hey, guard! Boomfie!

[chattering]

[woman] Now, please, we must be patient.

I'm sure the doctor will be here momentarily.

After all, what scientist would miss out on receiving

the prestigious Kelp Award?

Oh, hi, sorry.

I'm late. I gotta find my...

Oh, pishposh, Dr. Propter.

No apologies necessary.

He's wearing pajamas.

I told you he was a nutcase.

Uh, you know, I think you have the wrong person.

Oh, nonsense, my humble colleague,

no one deserves the Kelp Award more than you.

I got you now, bone thief!

[grunts]

Oh, you fool!

This happens to be Dr. Horace T. Propter.

The world's leading researcher on nuclear-powered laser regeneration.

Him? But he's wearing pajamas.

Uh, y-yes. Yes.

Well, we famous scientist-types

don't like wasting time getting dressed in the morning, so...

Now, if you'll excuse me.

If you're really a hotshot scientist, then prove it!

He was planning on doing just that.

Weren't you, doctor?

Uh, well, I...

Dr. Propter will now demonstrate his greatest invention.

In invented droopy houseplants?

No, this is your nuclear-powered laser regenerator.

[laughing] Such a sense of humor.

Yes. [Chuckles]

Just a little joke to, you know, break the ice.

Now, the k-key to nuclear-powered...

Is it "laser regeneration"? Yeah.

Is to regenerate,

using of course a, um, a I-I-laser,

which is powered, um, nuclearly.

Um, OK, tell me if I'm going too fast for you now.

[beeping]

[growling]

Milo, where's the mask, fella?

Milo!

[roaring]

[roaring]

[chuckles]

It's OK, boy.

You see that?

[chuckles] They're just animatronic robots.

[roaring]

No, they're not! They're alive!

[all screaming]

[roaring]

[screaming]

[growling]

[chattering]

[sighs]

Your regeneration ray has

apparently brought the animatronic dinosaurs to life, doctor.

Yes, well, I-I'm sure we'll be safe in here.

But then again... [screaming]

Oh, great, so that's where you hid it.

Are you sure you're not part squirrel?

[panting]

[roaring]

[snarling]

[Milo whining]

And I thought you had some disgusting table manners.

[roaring]

[chuckling] That's OK, don't say excuse me.

Let's just toss two million years of

civilization out the window, what do you say?

OK, now, let's just get the mask and...

[guard] All right, you bone thief

and artifact demolisher.

I'm putting you under museum arrest!

Sorry I missed this party. [grunts]

Someone practically destroyed the whole museum.

Couldn't have been worse than the jerk I ran into this morning.

If I ever get my hands on him again, I'm gonna...

Oh, the mask has got to be in with all that trash.

No, I told you not to chase moving vehicles, Milo.

But come on!

[growling]

Oh!

[sighs]

[mumbling]

Nothing but junk in here.

Well, what do you know?

[tires screeching]

[yelps]

[laughing]

[dispatcher] Attention all units, I repeat, attention all units.

Be on the lookout for prehistoric predators

with an appetite for metal.

There's one now. Let's take him, Doyle.

[Doyle] Oh, but I just poured my soup, lieutenant.

Ouch! It's burning my... lap!

[siren wailing]

Don't be a crybaby, Doyle.

At least it's not coffee.

All right, you prehistoric creep, you're going down.

I read you, lieutenant.

[Doyle over PA] Attention, rampaging dinosaur.

Pull over to the curb.

I repeat some more: pull over.

And they say that dinosaurs have small brains.

[brakes screeching]

[roaring]

It's a good thing they just eat metal. Huh, lieutenant?

[roars]

Ah, close call, Doyle.

I tell you, having a metal plate in your head

isn't all it's cracked up to be.

Did you ever try hanging refrigerator magnets off of it,

you know, to hold memos or...?

[Stanley and Milo screaming]

[yells]

[roars]

G-Get off my windshield, you big, ugly bug!

[screeching]

[screaming]

[grunting]

[roaring]

[grunts] Me smokin'!

And fire not even discovered yet.

[grunting]

Bad dinosaurs!

Ice Age coming to make you all extinct.

Hmm, me should go finish them off.

But first...

Uh, girlfriend, you really should do something about those hips.

[man] And a very good afternoon to you all!

I am Don Poppol, sole distributor

of the amazing growth-formula spray.

As you know, this incredible formula was developed by a world-famous scientist.

Seems he wanted to enlarge the world's food supply.

But folks, who really eats six-foot tomatoes? What do we want?

Hair! Hair! Hair! Hair!

Did I hear someone say hair?

Of course, seeing is believing.

So I'll just spray a small amount

of the amazing growth formula

on this folliculy challenged gentleman.

And Mama, get the lawnmower.

[crowd cheering]

A little boost will do you fine.

[crashing]

[roaring]

[screaming]

Oh, how dreadfully awful!

No etiquette whatsoever.

Everyone knows one must always lift the pinky in the air

when devouring TV equipment.

[high voice] Hey! I seen this stuff on TV!

[normal voice] Wonder if it works.

[screams]

Don't worry, lady! The circus is hiring!

[roaring]

Here you go, boys.

This oughta give you a good size hair ball.

[barking]

[whining]

Whoopsie.

Guess I made a teensy miscalculation.

Hee-hee! Them boys gotten too big for their britches.

I reckon something's gotta be done.

Well, kick the dog and spit in the fire,

I got me an idea.

If this here stuff's made 'em big,

there must be a opposite-type formula to make 'em teeny-tiny small.

But I reckon my brain just ain't a big enough to think of such a formula.

[barking]

Hey, good thinkin', Rover.

[grunting] You get back on in there, you.

Get on in! Go on! Get in there!

Now, to get to work on the antidote formula.

Ew, don't you just hate it when that happens.

And Edge City remains in a state of siege

as the three prehistoric behemoths continue their destructive rampage.

Earlier today, they destroyed the Thomas Jefferson Bridge,

prompting Mayor Tilton to rename it.

"The Thomas Jefferson Really Big Piece

of Sunken Concrete."

But there was more devastation to come.

The dinosaurs destroyed the Edge City radio tower

as well as scratching the paint off a mailbox,

which is a Federal offense.

Time is running out for Edge City.

Is there no hero who can save us?

[laughs] Yes! Bingo!

I've finally done it!

It is ready!

Ah, the perfect cup of cappuccino.

Watch out, Seattle.

Ah! Now, to work on that anti-growth formula.

This ought to do the trick.

Grandpa Mask's Freeze-Dried Reverse-Growth Formula Flakes.

So simple, so quick,

and all you do is add water.

Now, let's see if it works.

Here at Edge City Airport,

the dinosaurs continue their terrifying feeding frenzy.

Let's just hope they don't notice

that air traffic control tower.

[roaring]

With that tower destroyed,

there's no telling what disaster could befall the many

flights due to land.

Oh, the humanity!

[imitates theme from "The Good, the Bad and the Ugly."]

All right, you varmints!

Reckon it's time to send you for the last roundup.

[roars]

Uh-oh.

Note to self: never step on a bug again.

It is very painful.

[imitates Popeye's laugh]

Ptuy! What am I doing? I hate spinach.

It's time to pump me up!

[German accent] Puny dinosaurs,

gaze upon my countenance and despair.

Run and hide from the magnificence of my pectorals.

[plane flying]

[mewing]

Hey, these are better than Sea-Monkeys,

and I know just what to do with these little critters.

Huh?

[growling]

Hi, anybody ever tell you

that you've got a magnetic personality?

[growling]

[yelling] Get away from me! Get off my shoes!

Get away from my pants!

Go get him, boys!

Pedal to the metal!

Somebody stop me!

[laughs]