Death Race 2000 (1975) - full transcript

O great American multitude,
and sports fans everywhere.

Today we inaugurate the 20th
annual Transcontinental Road Race.

Today the five bravest
young men and women

in this bravest of nations

will risk their lives

in the greatest sporting event
since the days of Spartacus.

Three days hence, a new American
champion will be crowned,

for all the world
to behold in awe,

in respect,

in fear.

All right, all right.
This is Junior



Bruce, your buddy-buddy and mine.

And I'll be giving you the
blow-by-blow play-by-play

when the kings and queens of the
open road roar onto the track.

Do I hear the sound of engines?

It's "Calamity" Jane Kelly,
queen of the road,

at the wheel of that mean
old ornery stud Bull.

Zany Janie, winner of this
year's trials at Watkins Glen,

placed second in 1998

and led at last year's second lap

until she went out
with gear trouble.

Her fans and lovers everywhere
wish Janie better luck this year.

My fans can wish me all
the luck they want.

If my luck with my lovers gets any

better, I'll miss the
race completely.



Isn't that right, Pete?

With the start of the race
only a heartthrob away,

this is Grace Pander on
the spot, as usual,

to welcome the greatest
racer of all time,

and a very dear friend of mine.

Yes, in just a moment he will
be coming through the doors.

There is no cause for alarm.

The patient has been flown in from

abroad in a state of
suspended animation

in order to facilitate the healing
of his recent limb transplants.

He should be coming
around any moment now.

Oh, my... I don't believe it.

Frankenstein, can you give me an
exclusive? How are things abroad?

How is Mr President?
Is he still in Moscow?

Mr President is in his
summer palace in Peking.

He loves everybody.

And everybody loves him.

- Sieg.
- Heil.

Here she is, that adorable
swastika sweetheart,

Matilda the Hun from Milwaukee.

And her lovable Nazi navigator,
Herman "the German" Bock.

Matilda, Herman,

do you think this
is your turn to be

first and foremost
in sunny California?

- Today, California.
- Tomorrow, the world.

Hiya, Herman.

I hope your Buzz Bomb has a little

more juice in its
warhead this year.

Whoever named your car the Bull,

was only half right.

Frankenstein, will
Mr President fly

in to crown the
winner of the race?

Yes.

Is it true that with
your new mechanical arm

you can shift gears in less
than a twentieth of a second?

Would you care to comment on that?

No.

How do you feel about
going into the

race with a navigator
you've never met?

You'll love Annie. She's
a red-hot sexpot.

She better be a red-hot navigator.

No more questions.

It's the Lion. And at the wheel,
Ray "Nero the Hero" Lonnegan.

Never has finished the
Transcontinental,

but three big wins
in the provinces

this season plus a brand-new beast

means Nero's not fiddling around.

Sit still, Cleopatra,
and stop blocking me.

My fans wanna see me.

They've never seen
a has-been before?

- Annie Smith?
- Mr Frankenstein.

I've checked out the car, and
everything seems perfect.

I have the route maps right here.

I will check them in a minute.

We will roll...

when everything seems perfect...

to me.

I've packed some
high-protein capsules

and as many adrenaline
tablets as I could find.

And I've also assembled
a medical kit,

just in case. I'm
trained as a nurse.

I don't need a nurse.
I need a navigator.

Mr Frankenstein, you're
very good at what you do,

and I'm very good at what I do.

We'll see.

And you know there's
only one person

who guns an engine like that.

It's got to be the roughest
tough guy of them all,

"Machine Gun" Joe Viterbo.

Here he comes, Machine Gun Joe.

Loved by thousands,
hated by millions.

Only living previous winner
except for Frankenstein.

Highest lifetime score
after Frankenstein.

And he's certainly getting
the welcome he deserves.

Joe doesn't look too
happy, but you can't

keep those Frankenstein fans down.

Lousy sons of bitches.

- Frankenstein?
- Give it to them, Joe.

You want Frankenstein?

I'll give you Frankenstein.

Yeah.

Here he comes. Here he comes.

Frankenstein.

Frankenstein the legend.
Frankenstein the indestructible.

Sole survivor of the
titanic pileup of '95.

Only two-time winner of the
Transcontinental Road Race.

Frankenstein,

ripped up, wiped out, battered,
shattered, creamed and reamed.

A dancer on the brink of death.

Frankenstein, who lost a
leg in '98, an arm in '99.

With half a face and
half a chest and

all the guts in the
world, he's back.

God only knows what he looks like
under that mask, but he is back.

In the name of Mr President,
America loves you, Frankenstein.

You will regret that, Joe.

Stay tuned, racing fans.

T- video satellite will
bring every mile of

thrills and spills
into your living room.

All five cars are in
starting position

here at New York Memorial Raceway,

ready to roll.

Now we take you to the Summer
Palace. And Mr President.

My children,

whom I love so dearly,

it has been my duty

in the long and difficult years

since the world crash of '79

to serve you as best I could.

Never before in history have
the masses forgone all comfort

so that the spirit of
genius might thrive

and seek the golden key
to a new time of plenty

in the fertile field
of minority privilege.

And now. My children. The drivers
are ready. The world is waiting.

Once more, I give
you what you want.

Good morning, Americans. Once
again the race is under way,

with 12-hour pit stops
scheduled at St Louis

and Albuquerque, home of the
American Indian Museum.

At this very moment
the cars are howling

through the streets of Manhattan,

but no points have
been scored as yet.

Take it away. Junior Bruce.

They're at the Lincoln Tunnel.

With Frankenstein and Joe
running neck and neck.

Then it's the Lion. Driven by...

Passed by Calamity
Jane in the Bull.

Moving into third place.

All right, and hey, hey, hey.

The cars have split
up, the drivers

taking off on their
favourite routes.

Frankenstein's still out
in front. Headed due west.

With Nero the Hero on his tail
hoping to pick up his leftovers.

Calamity Jane's on
a northwest tack.

Matilda's Buzz Bomb is trying to
catch up with Machine Gun Joe.

Now streaking south-west.

Once again, Mr President.

I have made the United
Provinces of America

the greatest power in
the known universe.

I have also given you

the most popular sporting event
in the history of mankind,

the Transcontinental Road Race.

Which upholds the
American tradition

of no holds barred.

"No holds barred."

That's how he got to be president.

Hypocrite pig. What
about our ultimatum?

He's been laughing
us off for 15 years.

Passive resistance
means nothing to him.

Pick up that flag, young man.

It's time for action.

It is not a time for violence.

Mrs Paine, I love Annie
as much as you do.

But she's no match for
Frankenstein, and

we can't risk letting
him get away.

Frankenstein is the
biggest target in

the world and a friend
of Mr President.

That, Lieutenant Fury,
is exactly why they'll

call off the race.
To save his life.

My granddaughter will succeed.

Don't you ever take off that mask?

No. Don't you know about my face?

I've heard stories.

Nobody's ever seen it, have they?

Except my other navigators.

And they're all dead.

So they are.

They say you lost most of
your jaw in the crash of '92.

And my right eye in '95,

and my nose and my
left eye in '97,

and most of my cranium in '98.

I'm held together with patches
of plastic and steel plates.

It's not a pretty sight.

You wanna see?

Why not? I've seen
everything else.

Remember, you're
doing this on your

own. I take no responsibility.

What'd you expect?
Another pretty face?

- They really love you, Joe.
- Yeah?

Then how come they ain't down
here on the road proving it?

Hey, you better make
this left turn.

You'll shave off about
2 miles that way.

Yeah, all right.

All right, all right
and yes, siree.

A clean hit. A perfect hit.
And no pain for the target.

Too bad the guy was only 38.

Just two years older, he'd have
been worth three times the points.

But, for the second year in a row,

Machine Gun Joe has splattered
the scoreboard first.

How'd you like that, huh? Get
off on that one, Myra, baby?

What's the matter
with this engine?

I don't know. Sounds fine to me.

Amateurs.

Get back there and retard the
spark four... three degrees.

I'm glad to see you were
able to find your way back.

As the cars roar
into Pennsylvania.

The cradle of liberty.

It seems apparent
that our citizens

are staying off the streets.

Which may make scoring
particularly difficult.

Even with this
year's rule changes.

To recap those revisions,

women are still worth 10 points
more than men in all age brackets.

But teenagers now
rack up 40 points.

And toddlers under 12

now rate a big 70 points.

The big score, anyone. Any
sex. Over 75 years old

has been upped to 100 points.

As always.

How fast you move determines
how long you live.

Toro.

A beautiful kill. A neat kill.

No calamities for
Jane today. No, sir.

And you can bet she'll be
getting both ears for that one.

What is that?

Euthanasia day at the geriatrics
hospital. They do it every year.

Here he comes. He's coming.

Frankenstein scores.
Frankenstein scores at last.

But what kind of a
score, boys and girls?

Just 110 points out of
a possible big 700.

What do you think
about that, Gracie?

Well, those doctors,
dear friends of mine,

have been pretty smug all these
years, setting up the old folks.

Frankenstein must have
decided it was their turn.

Which only goes to show that
even the fearsome Frankenstein

has a 100% red-blooded
American sense of humour.

Annie saved those old people. And
she'll deliver Frankenstein.

Meanwhile, innocent people are
being slaughtered on our highways.

They're like Christians being
thrown to the gladiators.

But just remember,
the Christians won.

Did they, Mrs Paine?

I take it from your
attire that your

sabotage operations are
being carried out,

despite my wishes?

Mrs Paine, we're set to hit
them with everything we've got.

Then. In the name of humanity.

Let Operation Anti-Race begin.

How in hell are we supposed
to score in this graveyard?

You're the navigator.
That's your problem.

And think of something
soon, or else

you're gonna be out on your ass.

It isn't my fault everyone
scored before us.

You should have hit that boy
scout camp like I told you.

I tried the goddammed
boy scout camp.

You know how fast those
boy scouts move?

Now, here's something
more your speed.

Gotta be at least 200 points.

If they scatter, go for
the baby and the mother.

Come on. Quick. Quick.

Go for the baby. The baby.

That's it. Come get baby.

Bye-bye, baby. Hello, 70 points.

Hey. I'm off the air.

Would you please take your places?

Put Grace on with an
interview, right now.

Hello, ladies. Isn't this just
the most exciting race in years?

I certainly think so.

And guess what, I have
a surprise for you.

Mrs Rhonda Bainbridge,
in person, on my show.

The widow of Edward Bainbridge,
whom, as we all know,

was "Machine Gun" Joe
Viterbo's first score.

Welcome to my home. And
may I call you Rhonda?

Please do, Mrs Pander.

- Are we about ready here?
- Yeah, just about.

Listen, we have to go right away.

As the widow of the
race's first score.

You have won a high-style
two-room apartment in Acapulco.

Start the jam.

And next year you will
be watching the race

on a 50-inch three-dimensional
octaphonic T-video set...

Fellow oppressed Americans.

The execution of the barbarian
killer Nero the Hero

is the people's first stroke

against the evil and corrupt
regime of Mr President.

I am Thomasina Paine,

founder and commander of the
army of the resistance.

For 20 years. Americans have been

told when to eat
and when to sleep.

When to love and when to hate.

The age of obedience is over.

In the names of George Washington,
Abraham Lincoln, and Harry Truman,

I call upon you to stand up
for your inalienable rights.

We declare war upon the Bipartisan
Party, on Mr President,

and on that most inhuman
desecration of life and liberty,

the Transcontinental Road Rape.

I thank you.

- What the hell was that?
- I have no information.

- Is this race still on?
- I have no information.

- What do you think?
- About what?

About that speech.

Adds spice to the race.

"Spice"? They've killed Nero.

That would have got
more points for me.

Don't you understand?

They've declared war on the race
and on you. Aren't you worried?

The only thing that worries me
is "Machine Gun" Joe Viterbo.

Is winning all you care about?

Yes. It's the only standard
of excellence left.

- Come on. Here they come.
- It's not finished.

Come on.

Look at that stupid hole
right in the middle.

They won't get through there.

Blitzkrieg.

As the drivers converge
from their routes and

head for the first pit
stop in St. Louis.

Machine Gun Joe is still
leading the field.

With Frankenstein second.
Calamity Jane third.

Leaving Matilda the Hun
in fourth position

and Calamity Jane facing
another calamity.

Right now. Frankenstein's score

points put him just
ahead of Joe...

Hey. Get off the rope. Jesus
Chrysler, get off the rope.

Hey, dummy, come on over
and hold the ladder.

This aggravates me.

Where's the one that says
"Welcome Joe Viterbo"?

Score the son of a bitch, Joe. You
need every point you can get.

I only mashed him slightly.

- Put him out of his misery, Joe.
- Is that fair?

- Yeah.
- Hey. Should I let him go?

Fair's always right.

One thing before we begin.

The government would
like it if nobody

said anything about
Nero. Understand?

He hit a tree, and
that's it. Got it?

We don't wanna depress
anybody by...

Hey, hey.

Everybody knows he was blown up
by the resistance, you schmuck.

It was on television.

If you wanna drive
again next year, Mr...

Viterbo, keep those
opinions to yourself.

Ok. Go ahead.

This is Grace Pander
from St Louis,

where Matilda, a
dear friend of mine,

is receiving a
well-deserved rub down.

Tell me, Tilly, darling,

what can we expect from you when
the cars go back on the road?

You can expect a victory...

by a member of the master race.

A woman.

Tilly, darling, that certainly
is showing a lot of confidence

for someone who's lying
fourth out of four.

She doesn't mind, as long
as she's lying somewhere.

When I'm through with you,
you're gonna be lying in state.

If anybody is going to boot hill,
it's you and your Bizz Bang.

- Buzz Bomb.
- Shut up.

You just leave my navigator alone.

Girls, girls, girls.
Remember you're on TV-land.

Pete, how do you like
being a navigator?

Well, Junior, I'd like it more
if I was in the driver's seat.

You'll get what's coming
to you on the road.

Oh, yeah?

What's coming to me is the final
solution to the cowgirl problem.

Frankenstein, when are you
gonna make your move?

Are you gonna take off-road
chances for scores,

or are you driving all-out
to be first into New L.A?

It's not about winning,
it's how you play the game.

Frankenstein, a
dear friend of mine.

Frankenstein, tell me
how it feels when,

at that electric
instant, at 200 mph,

life and death coexist at
the moment of scoring.

If you stand in the
middle of Route

66 tomorrow morning
at eight o'clock,

you can answer that
question for yourself.

What are you doing? Get away
from me. Joe will go nuts.

Just tell him I was whispering
sweet nothings in your ear.

Well, Myra, what did
Frankenstein have to say to you?

H- h-h-he didn't say
anything. He...

- What'd he say?
- Nothing...

- What'd he say?
- Nothing.

I'm not playing games, Myra.
I wanna know what he said.

He said there was nothing
sweet in my ear.

"In my ear."

What do you want?

My name is Laurie,
Mr Frankenstein.

I'm head of Chapter Seven, St
Louis Lovers of Frankenstein.

I was chosen from
over 100 girls...

To offer me your body? Is that it?

You want me because I drive the
Monster and wear this costume.

No, Mr Frankenstein. That wouldn't
be fair to your navigator.

It's taken her years of hard
work to earn that privilege.

Besides, we understand
your feelings.

What do you know of my feelings?

Everything. Like...

Like why you're afraid
of falling in love.

And why winning the race
means everything to you.

How do you know these things?

From my dreams, partly.

And from letters I
get from other fans.

Plus the club subscribes
to an astrology service.

Well, if you're not here to offer
me your body, what do you want?

I wanted to meet you,
Mr Frankenstein.

I wanted you to know who I am.

So it would have meaning.

I don't understand.

So what would have meaning?

We love you, Mr
Frankenstein. I know

just saying it doesn't mean much.

Why do you love me?
Because I kill people?

Scoring isn't killing, Mr...

Frankenstein. It's
part of the race.

You're a national
hero, and we want

you to know we're with you 100%.

Good night, Mr Frankenstein.

I didn't hear you come in.

Who were you expecting?
Machine Gun Joe?

I thought I could trust you.

You really just don't wanna
give me a chance, do you?

I was trying to help you.

I'm... sorry.

You're what?

Sorry.

He wanted to know our route,
so I told him to go down 54

through the Cimarron Valley.

54 is a dead end. Leads nowhere.

That's right. And if Joe
takes it, he's sunk.

The only way Joe will take that
road is if he sees us do it first.

Or if he's ahead of us.

Is that the arm that
came off in '98?

And...

which one of those
obviously perfect

legs was it that came off in '99?

The right.

And the left one was
just broken in six

places and burned
down to the bone.

Is that right?

It's a miracle you can still walk.

Do you like to dance?

Those Swiss mechanics sure
did a good job on you.

What else did they replace?

Wait a minute...

and I'll show you.

O Mr President, bless thy
children and make them strong.

Bless thy daughters Matilda
and Jane, and thy son Joe.

And bless thy beloved son,
the immortal Frankenstein,

who has given so much
pleasure to so many.

The hell with Frankenstein.
What about Joe Viterbo?

The flag is down and they're away,

with Machine Gun Joe
blasting into the lead

on this second lap of the great
Transcontinental Road Race.

Frankenstein is
making a left turn,

splitting early from the pack.

Look out, all you folks
just south of here.

Gee, Joe, there's nobody
even close behind us.

Where's he going? What's he doing?

- Hey, where are we going?
- I dropped my glove.

Let not the ruin of thy
robes destruct the tires...

Jesus Chrysler.

Ladies and gentlemen,
by a bizarre accident

Frankenstein has killed
our cherished colleague

the deacon of the
Bipartisan Party.

I think you did that on purpose.

Have to give the fans
something to talk about.

It's my obligation
as a national hero.

Frankenstein's score is now...
Does that score count, Harold?

An interesting point,
Junior, and one

that may set a
significant precedent.

Can a racer score a race official?

Ooh, and after all those nice
things he said about him.

It don't matter. It
don't count. You

can't score religious
personalities.

The word "deacon" has been handed

down to us from the
ancient... the...

Frankenstein's score has
been approved for 50 points.

The confirmation has
just been handed to

me. You know what
that means, Junior?

That means that the
race officials from

coast to coast will be
falling like flies.

Frankenstein. I hate
him. I hate him.

Oh...

You're salivating.

Oh, my... Why did she do that?

To show me she loves me.

Here they come. Let's get set.

Chicken game.

- Chicken in a basket.
- Chicken in a casket.

Oh, shit.

Yeah, hey. Who got the
last laugh now, huh?

- The turnoff, it's coming up.
- Should I take it?

- Who gives a goddamn shit?
- Should I?

She says I should, so I should,
right? Or should I? I don't know.

I don't think you should. I
think it's definitely a trick.

I'll do it. I won't do it.
I'd be a schmuck to do it.

I did it and I'm no schmuck.

- That's your story.
- That's right. That's right.

And I see you mess
with Frankenstein

again, I'm really
gonna bust your eye.

What do you mean, "really"?

I have an almost unlimited
score possibility,

but it's pretty far down the road.

District penitents' compound.

All those old congressmen chained
up. They'd be like sitting ducks.

Yeah, and all I got to do is
drive through a cyclone fence.

Look, the farther west we go,
the fewer targets there'll be.

Hey, come on.

Joe's already on his way to a
dead end, and the other two...

Ok.

Take the next right.

Now, as soon as the
car gets within

range, I shall give the signal.

We'll have just under
a minute after they

reach the turnoff.
Lieutenant Fury...

Lieutenant Fury has nothing
whatever to do with this.

I want none of his surprises here.

I could stand for a surprise. Like

if your Frankenstein
didn't show up.

Don't worry. He'll show.

What's our estimated time
of arrival in Albuquerque?

Well, I'm not sure. I mean, this
detour is gonna make a difference.

Haven't you calculated
our time of arrival?

I did, but I couldn't take
into consideration...

- Take what into consideration?
- Frankenstein. Stop the car.

Hold on.

What the hell?

Don't stop now.
What are you doing?

What are they doing?

Sorry, brother.

If that's the best
the resistance can

do, we got nothing to worry about.

I guess not.

One thing I can't figure out

is why would they bother to dress
that guy up to look like me?

Maybe he was a fan.

Who built this stinking
road? If I ever get

my hands on him, I'll
rip his heart out.

I mean it. I'm sick of this
race and I'm sick of you.

I guess it must have
been Joe that set

us up for that ambush,
don't you think?

Got in touch with those guys and
told them where we were going?

I guess it might have been.

But then how the hell did Joe
know we were gonna take a detour?

Maybe it was those guys on
the pit crew in St. Louis.

Took your book out of the car
while you were getting massaged.

I didn't leave my book in the car.

- You didn't, huh?
- No.

Well, then, I guess it
couldn't have been them.

- Who do you think it was?
- I have no idea.

Why do you care?
They didn't get you.

Us. They didn't get us.
We're a team, remember?

Come on over to my side. You're
gonna drive for a while.

Why? I'm not trained as a driver.

Never mind why. Just
do as I tell you.

I'm counting on you to make
a nice big score for us.

Sure.

Anything special in mind?

Something'll turn up.

I'm sure that it will.

Jesus H Christ. I'll
kill that broad.

- What did I do?
- Shut your face.

Cornball, what's the
fastest way through here?

Well, actually, the only way
we do it is we get a bulldozer

and we trim this edge down
here and we drive through.

No, what's the best way
between here and Albuquerque?

You got to go back
to the main highway.

I'll lose 45 minutes.

I've seen you before. I'm one of
your greatest fans, you know that?

I follow all of the races. I got

pictures of you all
over the outhouse.

I named my favourite dog after
you, Mr Frankenstein. I did.

Lousy stinking dirt ball. You
got two seconds to live.

Come on, Pete, honey. You
gonna take all day with that?

I wanna get on the
road, make a few

more scores. My blood
lust is fading.

Almost finished,
Calamity, sweetheart.

We'll be back on the
road in no time,

then we'll cream that
Nazi's ass for her.

What'd you say? I...

Blitzkrieg.

You lousy bitch. I'll
kill you for that.

Nobody scores my navigator
and gets away with it.

Oh.

Here she comes. And
boy, is she pissed.

What does she expect? You leave
your navigator lying around,

naturally somebody's
gonna run over him.

She's gaining on us, momma, and
she's got murder on her mind.

Schnell. Meine kleine Buzz Bomb.

That's good.

All right, on three.
One, two, three.

Support it. Easy.
Steady as she goes.

Here they come.

A detour. I really
needed that right now.

Holy shit.

A special bulletin. There's
been an accident. An explosion.

It looks like Matilda has
been blown totally...

Correction. Matilda has made
an impressive score. Stand by.

Don't you wanna take
over now? I'm afraid

I'm making us lose an
awful lot of time.

You're doing just fine.

- Looks like an easy score.
- Yeah. Yeah, it does.

It's always best to start small.

- I missed him.
- It takes some practise.

- Before it comes easy?
- It never comes easy.

Keep your eyes on the road.

How far is it to the
penitents' compound?

Oh, maybe 20 miles.

Stop the car.

Get out.

Out.

Come to the other side.

Around the front.

Where is the penitents' compound?

It's in Japan.

Get in.

I could just push you out of this
car and pick up a quick 30 points.

Who are you? Who are
you working for?

I'm Thomasina Paine's
granddaughter.

I'm honoured.

So you were gonna capture me and

replace me with that
goon back there.

What for?

He was going to deliver our
ultimatum to Mr President.

Your life in exchange for the
permanent abolition of the race.

She was a great.
Dear friend of mine.

And I shall remember her forever.

Howling down that
freeway in the sky.

Knocking over the angels.

The valiant Hun's
demise was in fact

caused by enemies of the people.

There will be a special broadcast
by Mr President at 1900 hours.

Stay tuned to find
out how you can help

Mr President preserve
our way of life...

Calamity, turn off the television.

Hey, you guys wanna stop
playing that song, please?

Look, this is a race,
a sporting event, not

a daredevil stunt. I
want some protection.

You should have given us an
escort after Nero got it.

Joe would score the escort,
wouldn't you, baby?

You wanna zip your
lip, Myra? Huh? Now,

are you going to cover me or not?

Look, Mr Viterbo, if
you're afraid to go

on with the race,
why don't you quit?

You're calling me a turkey?

If you ask me, you're all making
excuses for poor driving.

Poor driving? Listen,
honey. Matilda

the Hun was a champion driver.

Nobody could've scored my
navigator and gotten away with it.

And he's talking
about poor driving.

I'd like to see you do
it. I've been driving

for ten years. Nobody
talks to me like this.

This stinks.

It's all on account of the rebels.

Who mentioned anything
about rebels?

There are no rebels. Understand?

Then who was that old
lady on the television?

Thomasina Paine. She's
a harmless lunatic.

Would you please
come outside, sir?

We like to ask you
a few questions.

- Come on, Annie.
- Alone, if you don't mind.

Mr President will
explain those accidents

during his address to the nation.

- How did she jam the networks?
- And bump off our friends?

She didn't bump off
anybody. She walked

into a television
station waving a gun,

forced them to put her
on the air. We've

taken her back to the
asylum. That's it.

I got just two words
to say about that.

Oh?

Bull shit.

Excuse me.

Hey. I told you to stop
playing that song.

You forget, Joe, that
I'm a representative

of Mr President's government.

I happen to hold the
power of life and death.

Yeah? Well, I happen to
hold the clam sauce.

Look out, Viterbo. You may be the

second biggest clown
in this circus,

but if I want you
dead, you're dead.

- Second biggest?
- Sit down and eat.

I told you to stop
playing that music.

Were they armed,
or did they expect

the fire to be enough to stop you?

I don't know what
they expected. We

just ran through it
all and kept going.

One more question,
Mr Frankenstein.

Did you take that particular
road on your own initiative,

or on the advice
of your navigator?

On my own initiative.

Thank you, Mr Frankenstein.
That will be all.

There has been a lot of
talk about American rebels.

We have positive proof

that it was none other than
the treacherous French

who have been sabotaging
our great race.

Just as they and their
stinking European allies

have undermined and destroyed
our great national economy.

It is no coincidence.
My dear children.

That the word "sabotage" was
invented by the French.

- Where's Annie?
- I don't know.

Hey, did you hear the news?

Mr President said
it was the French

who knocked off Nero and Matilda.

Watch out for the crêpe suzettes.

"Machine Gun" Joe Viterbo
and Frankenstein.

As they begin the last lap of
their long and difficult journey

toward New Los Angeles.

Drop your keys?

I was just looking for
something I lost.

The race?

Look, Joe...

I threw you off course, ok?

All's fair in love and war.

I'm glad to hear you
say that, Annie,

because what we got going here

definitely ain't love.

Well, then, why don't we
just forget about it?

You know, Annie,
it's too bad things

ain't like they were
in the old days,

when we'd just take
somebody in an alley

and blow their brains
out. You know?

- Joe, please.
- Go ahead and scream, Annie.

- You're hurting me, Joe.
- There's nobody to hear you.

Huh?

How does it feel to
know you're gonna

spend the rest of
your life in pain?

The rest of your life is
about a minute and a half.

Frankie. Glad you
came. I caught your

navigator screwing
around with the car,

so I thought I'd come down and
have a look at what was going on.

Hey, come on, Frank...

Upstairs.

So much for a fair fight.

Next chance I get, you're dead.

What were you doing?
Getting more secret

instructions from
the lunatic fringe?

Why don't you just turn me
in and get it over with?

No need to.

You've blown your cover.
You're no threat to me.

Anyway, you're not someone
I would throw away.

- I have a job to do.
- Your job is a waste of time.

The world doesn't wanna be saved.

I'm giving you a chance to
save one small part of it.

Yourself.

Who are you anyway?

Nobody.

I was brought up in a government
training centre to be what I am,

Frankenstein, the best
driver on earth. This year.

They use one up, they
bring in another.

But I will be the
last of the line.

Oh, who's kidding who?

I never kid.

Why don't you ever
take off that glove?

What's underneath it?

It's my secret.

You and the Swiss doctors again?

There are no Swiss doctors.

Just native...
American... know-how.

- Have you checked the oil?
- Yes.

- Have you checked the hydraulics?
- An hour ago.

Brakes? Tires? Water?

Yeah, they're ok. Everything's ok.

Don't worry. I'm not going to do
anything to sabotage the car.

You get a load of that face?

I wonder if somebody got
points for that eye.

Listen, Frankenstein,
there's just you,

me and Joe left in
the race, and...

Well, I just want you to know that
whoever wins and whatever happens,

it's been really grand
racing with you folks.

I also wanna say that I think
you make a real nice couple.

- Thank you, Jane.
- Good luck.

Joe, Myra,

I just wanna say, whatever
happens, whoever wins...

Hey, save it for the French.

The cars have started,
lined up, and

are ready to roll on the last lap.

They're off. Frankenstein...
Holy Chrysler.

Joe has just scored
his own pit crew.

You lousy sons of bitches.
That'll teach you.

"Machine Gun" Joe Viterbo,
that funny man from Chicago,

has scored his own
mechanics for 40 points,

and is off to catch Calamity
Jane and Frankenstein.

Screw you, Joe Viterbo,
and your mother.

We'll see who gets to New L.A.
First, with the highest score too.

It's coming up on the left.

Forget it. I'm keeping
Frankie in my sights.

He's got five minutes on us,
and he's stretching it.

So what? If there's trouble up
ahead, he'll find it first.

Oh, yeah. Take a look at your
face. You'll find it first.

You know, Myra, some people
might think you're cute.

But me, I think you're one
very large baked potato.

Roaring down Motorway
66 towards California,

Frankenstein looks certain
to be first across the line.

But Machine Gun Joe is
still way ahead on points,

and he could win the race even by

arriving second in
New Los Angeles.

What's your prediction, Grace?

You know, Junior,
when Machine Gun Joe

was just a little boy in Chicago,

he had a pet snake that he used to

love to ride over
with his tricycle.

Break out the thermos
of hi-pro drink.

Coming right up.

Here. I didn't mean to hog it all.

Thanks. What flavour is it?

- Vanilla.
- Not my favourite.

This isn't vanilla. It's
peach or something.

Yeah, well, my taste buds got
wiped out in the crash of '97.

It's a good thing mine
that are still intact.

At least the French
can't poison us.

What's Frankenstein's
location now?

He's about 50 miles out,
Lieutenant, and coming fast.

Goodbye, Mrs Paine.
When you see me

again, Frankenstein
will be my prisoner

and the country will know
we must be taken seriously.

Fury, wait. I'm coming with you.

No, Mrs Paine, it's too dangerous.

Nonsense. I've waited 20
years for this moment.

I know I can't join
you on the mission,

but I want to see you pull
it off with my own eyes.

Couple of turnoffs
coming up. What's

the quickest way to New L.A?

- That's funny.
- What?

I can't... I can't seem to
focus my eyes on the map.

I think we stay on 7... I
feel like I'm gonna pass out.

Look at that.

- It's them, isn't it?
- Please... please, stop the car.

Sorry. We're in a race.

Frankenstein, stop right
now. We wanna talk to you.

Stop before I force you to.

I'll bomb you to a
halt if I have to.

Annie, help me. Turn
off the engine.

Annie's dead, Mrs Paine.
He must have killed her.

Now I'm really going
to let him have it.

Look at that. The rebels are
sure giving it to Frankenstein.

Thank you, rebels. Mary, I
think we got this race won.

- Aren't we gonna help him?
- Are you nuts or something?

I'm getting my ass
out of here before

they make an emergency
landing. Sit down.

Attagirl.

Well, America, there you have it.

Frankenstein has just been
attacked by the French air force,

and he's whipped their derrières.

His point total for this one'll
be something astronomical.

Machine Gun Joe better watch out.

- Right on schedule.
- Hey, what happened?

I slipped you a 30-minute sleepex.

Didn't want you doing something
we would both regret.

Did they attack us?

According to the radio, we were
attacked by the French air force.

Was the plane shot down?

Even those Swiss doctors
couldn't have helped them.

I'm sorry. I know they
were your people.

But I can't let
anything stop me now.

They didn't expect you
to give up easily.

They were prepared for
whatever happened.

Oh, my God, you've been hit.

I'll make it.

I'm sorry things
worked out this way.

- It's not over yet.
- I'm afraid it is.

Hey.

What the hell do you
think you're doing?

It doesn't make any difference
what happens to me.

That is the dumbest, sorriest
thing I've ever heard you say.

I don't believe
you've got a drop of

Thomasina Paine's
blood in your body.

The minute things get
rough, you close

your eyes and try to
drive us off a cliff.

If you'd just stop trying to kill
me for a minute, I need your help.

How can you possibly
expect me to help you?

You're my navigator.

You're the only one who
knows where you're going.

I mean, whose side
are you on anyway?

I thought the only thing you cared
about was winning the race.

Sure. Only the winner
of the race gets

to shake hands with Mr President.

- Is that a grenade?
- A hand grenade.

That handshake is all I've lived
for for as long as I can remember.

No, wait a minute. I
don't want you to die.

It's my life's work.

Why do you wanna win
this race so bad?

Why do I wanna win this
race? In the name of hate.

One big victory for hate.

Give me your hand.
Give me your hand.

Hey, stop. Will you stop the car?

Shut up. What is that?

It's a hand. Will you stop the
goddamn car? Stop the car.

You're going to have to
shift the gears for me now.

The only thing that worries me

is how am I going to shake
hands with Mr President?

Mr President's the one who
should be worried now.

He's coming. Can you hear that
engine? Still in perfect tune.

Here he is, the one and
only three-time winner

and sole survivor of the 20th
annual Transcontinental Road Race,

none other than
Frankenstein himself.

And now Mr President.

Our enemy, the French,

have destroyed nearly
all our gallant racers.

Just as they have crippled
our once-great economy,

and wrecked our telephone system.

But even they, in all
their evil power,

were not able to
destroy Frankenstein,

who is the embodiment
of our national virtue

and therefore indestructible.

It is fitting that
Frankenstein should

be the one chosen
by your president

to lead you in this war against
the French which I now decree.

Frankenstein has been shot. There
is a French spy in our midst.

Guards, seize that woman.

Frankenstein, are you all right?

Annie.

Frankenstein...

Frankenstein. Frankenstein.
Frankenstein.

Frankenstein. Frankenstein.

Frankenstein. Frankenstein.
Frankenstein. Frankenstein.

Mr and Mrs President Frankenstein
dear friends of mine

can you tell us what your
first official acts will be?

I plan to pension off the secret
police, restore free elections,

end minority privilege,
and move the seat

of government back
to New Los Angeles.

We've been governed from
abroad long enough.

Mr President, is it
true that you are now

accepting rebels into
your government?

Well, since I have accepted
one into my house...

President Frankenstein
has appointed

my great-grandmother,
Thomasina Paine,

in view of her
experience in the field,

as the minister for
domestic security.

And I plan to deal very
harshly with rebels.

Anybody who is unhappy
with happiness

can go find some
place else to live.

- What about the race?
- The race is abolished.

- Abolished?
- That's right.

We feel that the country
no longer needs

this gratuitous
display of violence

to show the world that its
virility is still intact.

Mr President, isn't it
true that as a racer

your popularity
depended on violence?

I'm afraid I shall have to let my

press secretary
answer that question.

Stop annoying Mr President with
impertinent questions, Junior.

It's the race, man.

President Frankenstein, you
can't call off the race.

The American people
won't stand for it.

Get out of the way, Junior.

The race is the symbol
of everything we

hold dear, our
American way of life.

Sure, it's violent. But
that's the way we love it.

Violent, violent, violent.
And that's why we love you.

Frank, do we have
to listen to this?

No.

As to this matter of violence.

The technique of violence was
first developed in 2,000,000 BC

by the Australopithecines.

A tribe of four-foot primates
who had no brains to speak of.

But who. Nevertheless.
Invented the

tomahawk and used
it on each other.

This practise led
to the enlargement

of the brain, another
useful weapon.

Yes. Murder was invented even
before man began to think.

Now. Of course. Man has become
known as the thinking animal.