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 powerplant

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 a 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'm gonna have to stop.

It's just too much.

I can't go on.

Oh god, I'm melting.

I'm melting!

Get me up there.

He's a subhumanoid.

He's melting down.

I'm melting down.

Help!

I'm melting!

Oh, what a world!

Forget him.

We've got to report the news.

OK, ready?

Still rolling.

Get that dog out of here.

This is Angel Finkelstein reporting to you live

from the Tromaville Institute of Technology,

where a giant mutated squirrel is

about to destroy the Tromaville nuclear power plant.

Oh my, I've 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 breasts.

It was then rebuilt by the Nuke-A-Mama Corporation

as part of the new Tromaville Institute of Technology campus

in the movie "Subhumanoid Meltdown Class of Nuke 'Em High Part 2."

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 the 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 Souzie Schwartz reporting live, filling in

for Angel Finkelstein... 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 its 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've 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 the grab it.

Attaway, 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 Nuke-A-Mama 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.

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 a horrendous plot of the Nuke-A-Mama Corporation.

It was also the horrendous plot of "Class Of Nuke 'Em High Part 2."

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 Nuke-A-Mama Corporation gross revenues, which were huge.

The obvious difference between humans and subhumanoid

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.

Oh, yes, yes, yes, yes!

In order to have a baby,

A subhumanoid had to mate with a human.

So the Nuke-A-Mama 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 Nuke-A-Mama Corporation's

subhumanoid baby program.

Everything seemed like a piece of cake,

but it was really a mess.

It was soon revealed 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 like 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 byproducts,

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 Of Nuke 'Em High Part Two."

Fortunately, those annihilated included the sadistic gang leader Yoke.

Unfortunately, Yoke's more handsome, but less

intellectually brilliant younger sibling, Li'l Eggwhite,

survived to take over the gang.

Yeah!

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.

No, I'm not your mother!

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 PC bees,

and the incredible heat produced by her meltdown

syndrome symptoms resulted in spontaneous combustion.

At least I still have my hair.

My hair!

Where did it go?

Where is it?

My hair.

Oh, my precious hair.

Where is it?

Well, well, well, if it isn't the lovely Professor Holt.

I see you got a hair cut.

It was so beautiful.

Hey professor, you're real ugly now.

Why, I oughta!

Take that, you fat.

While Professor Holt and Li'l Eggwhite 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 Nuke-A-Mama corporate powers did what came naturally.

They conceived a new plant.

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 Nuke-A-Mama 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 Nuke-A-Mama 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 of the subhumanoids

melted down in "Class of Nuke 'Em High Part Two,"

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 Nuke-A-Mama Corporation.

This power source is unlike any other.

More powerful than nuclear fission, coal, or oil.

You see, squirrels, the Nuke-A-Mama

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 bad ass 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 6 o'clock.

Oh, I found 10 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 Nuke-A-Mama 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 were Victoria, the last subhumanoid,

is giving birth to her human husband's child?

No, this is the podiatric ward.

I believe you're looking for the pediatric ward.

The birthing was a textbook case.

Someone help me.

Roger.

I'm not an animal!

The incredible beauty of subhumanoid birth overwhelmed dad,

he did his best not to throw up.

While he was in the waiting room composing himself,

the Nuke-A-Mama 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 is a boy.

Everything is 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, 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.

It was a proud moment.

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

Everything about you is terrible.

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!

Breathe.

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 in the nuclear power plant

to be reared in evil ways, oblivious to the fact

that there was another twin.

Come on. Get up.

Come on, 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.

It was a wonderful thing, raising a child.

Little Adlai brought such joy to our home.

Little Dick brought such joy to our hide out.

But it seemed like he was growing up so quickly.

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

Dick was taught the ways of violence and machine guns.

Adlai was taught the ways of small Japanese electronics products.

Dick grew up quickly and could

soon beat any rodent member of the Nuke-A-Mama corporate gain.

Adlai grew quickly

and was soon head of the insect appreciation club.

A side effect to the human and subhumanoid gene combination seemed to

accelerate normal growth by about 10 times.

At first, we were concerned about this rapid growth...

-pattern. -rate.

But tests seemed to indicate that little

Adlai was slowing down.

Dick was slowing down, and would soon level off...

And would probably level off to a more normal growth rate

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 take 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 Nuke-A-Mama 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 Nuke-A-Mama 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 the highly

esteemed faculty.

Independent studies were explored

by all the student body under the guidance of scholarly advisors.

You can't have sex in front of Mr. Substitute.

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.

If 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.

Oh, what's wrong, dear?

We had another one of them plutonium fires.

I don't know.

I think I got contaminated.

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.

All 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 bouncy, 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.

Oh, you're so good.

Oh, boll weevil me, Adlai.

Do the boll weevil on me.

Oh, you're so good.

I love it!

Boll weevil me!

Boll!

Oh, please stop!

I can't take anymore.

Are you sure that's enough?

Yes, I can't take anymore right now.

All right, then I love.

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,

A 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!

Surfboard!

Who's winning?

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.

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 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 counterpart, 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. Slack PhD!

Yes, what is it Professor Holt?

And it better be good, or I'm gonna have your nipples

pierced with soldering irons.

I've already done that, Dr. Slag PhD.

Oh yes, that's right.

What a show it was, huh, Li'l Eggwhite?

Shut up, Li'l Eggwhite.

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

And I bet it's just another miserable failure.

Au contrare, we simply put

a set of swimming flippers on an iguana with sinus congestion.

Oh, 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!

No!

I'm on fire.

My skin, my hair!

What a shame.

She had such good hands, didn't she, my Li'l Eggwhite?

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 counterpart, and when we do,

you'll be so powerful you'll make

what that mutant did to that girl look like heavy 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.

Oh, you don't sound very excited to hear from me.

Oh, heck, Trishy, you know I'm always

excited to hear from you.

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

and 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 that maybe we could get together

and I could give you a little inspiration.

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

Oh, Trish.

You give new meaning to fiber optics.

Trish, you know I can't take it when you put the phone down there.

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.

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

into the wet cotton ball amidst the disgusting black fluid.

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 first maker.

I cannot stop myself.

I am drawn to it.

It reaches out to me, the magna mater, the spirit of all

that's pleasurable, but 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 exultation.

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.

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.

Roller blade 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 finally found your purpose in life.

Those students, all they think about 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.

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 gonna be just like your dad.

Well, 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.

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 power.

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 disposal 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 perfect, and nobody panicked.

How are we going to get our power back?

Why does the faculty advisor have to be away on sabbatical when this happens?

-Chicken. -Egg.

-Chicken. -Egg.

Egg.

Egg.

You egghead, chicken came first.

No, it was the egg.

The chicken.

Your attention please.

Evacuate the festival grounds immediately,

and go to the north reactor for an urgent announcement by Professor Chernobyl.

Thank you for your cooperation.

You guys are gonna 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 are experiencing technical difficulties here

at Tromaville nuclear facilities.

If we can't procure a superheated 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.

Folks, you see, a result in systems shut down

creates the possibility of a major explosion

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

Ain't that special?

We'll all die, and this pisses me off,

because I spent the last two years of my life teaching

your 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 you.

I'm sorry.

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 who took my nuclear survival class will survive.

Those of you 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 gonna do?

We're never gonna make it through this crowd

to the student union fallout shelter in time.

Well, there's another shelter in town,

but town is 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!

Egg!

Chicken!

- Egg! - Chicken!

Egg!

Chicken!

Egg!

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!

OK.

Go ahead.

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 into 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 be used for the betterment of all mankind.

Clean up that mercury spill.

Mayor Smith is about to give a press conference.

Toxins, shmoxins.

After the success of "Class of Nuke 'Em High Part 2,"

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 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 to power reactor

during the day and to charge its reserve batteries

for the night, giving us the cleanest burning Tromaville ever.

Meanwhile, Doctor Slag PhD was watching his favorite Toxic Avenger movie

on the Troma 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 6 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 a full set of powers, but only if he's joined with one

whose ability complements his.

We know that our attempts to create such a being have failed consistently.

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

We ended up with the bodiless head with big metal teeth.

What ability can 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 complementary 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 you plans, Dr. Slag, PhD.

Thanks to the power source in my hand, everything

was great 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 my! -Gesundheit!

Bless you.

Are you OK?

No, that's disgusting.

Look at him.

He's taking his hand out.

Power's jumping.

What happened?

The lights went out.

Hey, bozo, put your hand back in.

Geez, Adlai, we're trying to run a nuclear power plant here.

All the lights in Tromaville went out.

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

We're counting on you for the power.

See you in the morning.

We'll bring you some eggs.

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 body 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.

Hey, Adlai.

Now, Adlai...

Don't choke me.

Yo, Adlai.

What it is?

What's going on? What?

Ah, somebody give me a Kleenex.

Do it, Adlai.

All right.

Oh, stop it, Adlai.

That's mister Adlai sir to you, and give me 20% of your allowance from now on.

Come on, Adlai.

Go, Adlai!

Uh, Kleenex?

Lordy, lordy, lordy, oh, no!

Now students, no running in the dorm halls!

Safety first!

Now I'll choke the guard again.

Ah, Adlai!

I'm better than you.

You must die!

I wanna 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!

Never mind.

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.

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, dragon clone.

I'll warm him up.

Oh, I love this part.

I'm on fire!

Hot, hot!

Hot, hot!

I'm on fire!

I'm on fire!

Oh, hot, prickly.

Yeah.

Oh yeah.

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 was gonna be fine.

Just fine.

Gosh, are you sure something like that can't mess with your chroma genes.

Oh, honey, I don't think so.

Come up here.

Gosh, you split me like a pancake, baby.

George, wait.

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

Oh, don't worry.

We got all the time in the world.

Well, oh, I can't...

We got hours.

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

We're gonna be here all day.

If you say, baby.

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

We're done?

Yeah.

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

Like, maybe you're psychic, too.

Psychic?

Geez.

But I never had any experiences like that in 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.

Well, there's a movement

spreading across the land and everywhere you roll.

It's a might 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 friends,

you can drop your worries.

Be homeless, too.

So let's say the Nuke-A-Mama Corporation for creating this path we now walk on.

Maybe we've achieved an 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.

Sun dried tomatoes.

Mine's with shiitake mushrooms.

I've got the tuna steak.

Oh, no.

I wanted caviar.

Not beluga!

-Watch out! -Watch out!

Yeah!

Come on!

Yeah!

All right!

Kick his ass!

Yeah!

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

Don't grab my arm!

Please, don't!

Don't!

I asked you not my arm.

Look out, the dragon clone!

Adlai, what's the matter?

Burn up, dragon clone.

Oh, no.

I'm on fire!

Ah, I'm on fire!

Stay away from the fence!

It's electrified!

It's electrified!

It's electrified.

Oh, my god.

I'm gonna 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.

Why, when I was in the special forces

I used to hide in the food locker.

I don't 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 look out 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 died 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! What?

Not me!

Not me!

So I said, go ahead and do something then.

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.

Look, you're the father of my child.

I haven't made love to anybody else.

You can't have a baby now.

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

I got school.

You know, I've got another other boyfriend.

You're just gonna 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...

But 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.

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 Tromabeer.

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 any 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!

Oh, clone fever.

Need a hand?

Here.

The good, the bad, the subhumanoid.

It's the latest movie, da da da, from Michael 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?

Well, 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, and...

Thanks, dad, but I'm going to try and 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.

Good bye.

Even though I was innocent,

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

So I decided to pack my bags and move 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.

Another reporter.

Well, you know I maintain that I'm innocent,

and I nothing more to say.

Now, I think you'll have to leave.

No, no, no.

I believe that you're innocent.

I represent a branch of the justice department

that deals 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 now what I want.

It's what you want.

With that all American image you've 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.

Well, 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 into 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.

Bring in the clones.

We'll have to do this the hard way.

Take him to the hideout.

Don't kill it!

Don't kill it!

Down with abortion.

Because of her exposure to the remnants of the subhumanoid meltdown syndrome,

Elaina's pregnancy proceeded rapidly.

Aloha.

George, aren't you gonna come with me?

Honey, I got a reputation to think of.

Well, OK.

I guess I understand.

Don't kill it.

Don't kill it.

Wish me luck?

You give 'em hell, sweetheart.

Break a leg.

OK.

Don't kill it.

Let 'em live.

No.

Don't kill it.

Don't kill it.

Please, let me in.

Don't kill it.

Don't kill it.

Hey, look at that bird up there.

I gotta have an abortion.

Don't kill it!

Don't kill it!

Don't kill it!

Oh my god!

I'm going into labor.

Oh, 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 and make the moves on my one true love.

Zoom in on her hiney.

The director loves those shot.

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 gonna recognize you in the 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.

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

where everyone hates you just to see me.

I didn't think you did those things.

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

You're so modest.

You know, I really do miss that.

What happened to your forehead.

I cut myself shaving.

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.

Oh, 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, yeah!

I love this show.

I'm gonna get you for this.

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... 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.

Oh, Adlai!

Yes!

Adlai!

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 Roger 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've never left this damn project in control of those scientists.

It's too late anyway.

The Nuke-A-Mama 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 mid-terms, 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.

No.

An evil man named Slag and... and a Professor Holt who smokes

cigars has Adlai imprisoned.

He commanded his twin to destroy Adlai's reputation.

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

into a radioactive stockpile.

Yeah, this Trish is a liar.

No!

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

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

Come on, 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.

She's right!

Yeah!

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 department, 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 three

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.

Oh, 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!

Yeah!

Run away!

Run away!

Dad did not want to get violent because he was a committed pacifist.

Oh, 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.

Yeah!

Yeah, let's go!

The Nuke-A-Mama 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 god!

Get off me, you little slut!

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

or else I'm gonna shoot you in the ass.

My eye!

Not 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.

Dick, is it my imagination, or are you beginning to deteriorate?

Well Adlai, I hate to tell you this,

but, you're looking a little grim there yourself.

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.

Oy vey.

It's crowded in here.

We're melting!

It's only a movie.

Something is coming out!

What is it, a loaf of bread?

No!

It's a baby!

Have a stogie, old bogie.

Hi, my name is Moishe Smith.

I am 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 for 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 Nuke-A-Mama corporate powers are defeated,

and the power is permanently on with low cost, clean,

eficient, 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.

Yeah!

Hey, 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.

Just like his daddy.

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, terrible thing.

They tried 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 breast feed 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 4."

Oh boy, part four.

That's great.

That's great.

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

Could you direct me to the... oh!

Oh, why'd you do that?

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 a stamped self addressed envelope

to Tromaville studios, Tromaville, New Jersey,

or contact your local congress person.

Thank you for your patronage and have a nice day.