Original subtitles

(LAUGHING MISCHIEVOUSLY)

Hey, hey,Wacky Race fans.

as the racers zoom across

the fabled Strait of Gibraltar,

(EXPLOSION)

-(SHARK SNARLING) -BRICK: (YELLS) Ow, ow, ow!

Breath-taking, simply ravishing.

Such rugged animal magnetism.

Peter, darling, are you looking in the mirror again?

What, no, of course... Hey!

We're in boats. Cool.

(ENGINE REVS)

(SEAGULLS SQUAWKING)

(SEAGULLS CONTINUE SQUAWKING)

Muttley, fire the freeze ray!

MUTTLEY: Yeah, yeah, yeah.

(LAUGHING) Too bad, none of you have the advantage

of snow tires.

(TIRES SCREECHING)

-So? -So, it's hot.

Drat!

Uh-oh, Muttley, emergency surface!

(PANTING) Whoo!

Get rowing, you nautical nincompoop.

There they are. Hurry!

We must catch them before something

Drat! (SCREAMING)

MUTTLEY: (MUTTERING)Razzle, razzle.

(SQUEAKING)

-(SQUEAKS) -Are they both okay?

Hey, you guys know I actually exploded

-and was eaten by a shark, right? -(SHARK GROWLING)

ALL: The usual.

You mean, you sniveling slobs sabotaged

my success with your sophomoric shenanigans?

(GRUNTS) Why do I taste like a Romanian?

(SNICKERING)

when we race down the coast to the city of Casablanca.

Oh, Casablanca.

So many memories.

It was years ago, when I met her

in romantic, black-and-white Casablanca.

I was running an ice cream parlor

in the Satire District of the old city.

Give me a rocky fudge, blood ripple, two scoops.

Oh, and one of those really long ice cream spoons.

-Bleh. Those are fun. -(DOOR OPENS)

Then, suddenly, she came in.

(THUDDING FOOTSTEPS)

Beautiful, articulate...

-(CRASHING)-Room temperature.

We danced, we started a bug farm,

we went to New York.

She would climb the Empire State Building

and swat down airplanes.

-(SIGHS SOFTLY) -What happened?

Did she leave for some noble, self-sacrificing reason

but carries your love with her always in a secret part of her heart?

No, it was the same old story.

She was discovered by a British talent agent/German spy

and left me for the English music halls.

There she worked with, married, divorced,

and eventually ate Charlie Chaplin.

Translated the less complicated works

of Shakespeare into American,

and co-founded the uplifting American music group

High in the Air with Humans.

-(BALLOONS BURSTING) -(PEOPLE SCREAMING)

which my guidebook says is Arabic for shopping mall.

This place is amazing.

-(PLAYING MIZMAR) -The sounds, the smells.

The sights.

Yawn!

Look at all this!

It's all so beautiful and exotic.

Ooh, what's this strange delicacy?

A cheeseburger, it's my lunch.

You gonna buy anything?

Um, maybe this?

I wouldn't.

-Why not? -It's cursed.

Okay, then, maybe this?

See the sign?

Ah. Well, I don't want anything cursed.

Not after that talisman I bought

I hate it.

It's like everything I own

is made of mashed-up Cupids.

You're not gonna buy anything, are you?

There must be somebody out there

unwise enough to buy...

(LAUGHS CUNNINGLY) Bingo!

(HISSING)

You appear to be leaking air.

You should get yourself repaired.

Are you looking for something in particular?

Well, not unless you have something that would make

the gearheaded goons I work with

behave like regular, reasonable people.

Ha, I got that!

-(GRUNTS) -What is that?

A magic lamp.

Please, I'm not some simpering sightseer.

-Okay, I'll throw in this pink hedgehog. -(SNICKERING)

Well, I suppose I should at least try this thing out.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. Hmm.

-(SQUEAKING) -I knew it. Nothing but a...

(BOTH COUGHING)

All right, what do you guys want?

Well, there's no need to be rude.

Sorry, you just rubbed me the wrong way.

(RIMSHOT)

What can I do you for?

I get three wishes, correct?

Yeah, yeah, yeah, standard contract.

Paragraph C, subsection 12.

"The party in the first part, as a prequisite

"of his and her employment,

"shall deliver unto the legal owner of the lamp

"three and only three wishes,

"each having a moral lesson or ironic twist."

So what do you really want?

if my exasperating escorts would end embarrassing me

with their insipidly ingratiating international antics.

Uh, could you be more specific

and maybe slightly less alliterative?

I want them to be less like themselves.

Less nice and sweet and all "Fair play"

and "Good try, Dickie," and "Oh, let's go shopping."

I want them to be more like...

-more like... -Yes, yes?

-More like? -Me!

I wish they were all more like me.

(COUGHING)

Wow, sorry, I think a truck went by.

Here's your wish.

No, how could a truck...

Well, we're on a roof.

-(CACTUS SCREAMING) -Oh, oh!

(SNORING)

(MUTTLEY SNORING)

(SCREAMS) Razzle, razzle, razzle.

It's morning. This is an opportune opportunity

to incapacitate their conveyances

with my clandestine cache of... (GROANS)

(GASPS)

I'm assuring my vainglorious victory this very day

with this strategically secretive supply

of superlative substances.

(STAMMERS) Say what?

to achieve ascendancy in today's tempestuous tournament.

There's no way you understood most of those words

you just said, Perfect.

PETER: Drat!

but mine has never been dolefully endowed.

I.Q.: Drat!

equaled the unparalleled excellence

of Bella and his brother. (GRUNTS)

Well said, my superlatively sibilant sibling.

(LAUGHS)

Okay, this is freaking me out.

You all sound like... Oh!

They sound like me!

blithering on about, you purple pinhead?

Look who's talking.

Because, Perfect, I fixed you all!

PETER: Oh, drat!

Huh?

(ALL GRUNTING)

You all look interesting.

-Is this the Halloween episode? -MUTTLEY: Drat!

MUTTLEY: Razzle, razzle.

-Don't bother your bamboozled brain, Brick. -Hey!

This isn't some holistically hapless holiday.

PETER: Drat! Drat! Oh, drat!

This day is race day.

-Whoa! -My sense-shattering success is soon assured.

Nonsense. The tournament's trophy is tantamount to Tiny's. Drat!

Oh, I see.

You're all invading, alien, pod-people duplicates.

Good to know.

Aliens! Aliens!

Aliens are here, run for your lives!

Aliens!

(TIRES SCREECHING)

(LAUGHS CUNNINGLY)

(GRUNTS)

Drat!

(LAUGHING WICKEDLY) Hmm.

Ah-ha!

Double drat! (GROANS)

(BELLA LAUGHING WICKEDLY)

Bleh!

-BOTH: Hmm? -TINY: Ah!

(BELLA CONTINUES LAUGHING)

(BOTH SCREAMING)

(LAUGHING WICKEDLY)

(BEEPING)

Car, fire a fiendish frenzy of photon.

CAR:Did you say, "Ironically incinerate I.Q.

"in an inferno of his own illicit ingenuity"?

What? No! Quadruple drat!

Who put this smoking debris in my path to delay me?

Your moldering manner isn't mollifying me.

I know this was your preposterous ploy to preclude my progress.

It's all your fault that I can't win this race!

It's your fault I can't win.

-It's your fault. -Nah-ah, it's yours.

(ALL ARGUING)

You keep stopping to set cliched,

old-school traps for the racers behind you,

instead of just going on to finish the race.

It doesn't make any sense.

And to me.

And to me. Bleh.

I most assiduously agree. (GROANS)

Your behavior just defies reason.

I can't stand it anymore.

Muttley, rub the lamp.

I was in the shower.

you advanced upon these addled-brained atrocities.

In English, pal.

Make them like they used to be.

It's your nickel, bub.

Whoo, what happened?

Where are we?

video games instead of just playing the game?

Who are you?

I'm Dastardly's genie.

What? You have a magic genie?

Yes. And I have one wish left.

A wish without the possibility

of ironic lesson-giving.

Give it your best shot.

I want to win.

There is no possible way to misinterpret this request.

I don't want to come in fifth or fourth.

Not third place or number two.

I wish to be number one!

Drat.

BRICK: The race is back underway

But first, I'd just like to say

welcome to our new alien overlords!

And if you need the collaboration of a compliant, amoral media

to keep the earthling meat sacks docile until harvesting,

I'm available.

Hurry, you pokey pooch!

(SNICKERING)

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