(rhythmic music)
- I'm Green Falcon!
(explosion booms)
(tense music) (eagle screeching)
(bones snapping)
(moves into dramatic music)
- [Radio] All units, status check.
- Front of house is clear.
- Huh? - Did you hear that?
Must have been nothing.
(tense music)
(bones snapping)
- Back patio's clear.
(bones snapping)
(guests laughing)
(tense music)
- Now it's my turn to play.
(tense music)
(boss snaps)
(guns clicking)
(guests screaming)
(tense music)
(prisoner gasps)
(Jamison grunts)
(bones snapping)
(prisoner sighs)
(Jamison chuckles)
Carol.
- (gasps) Teague!
- I thought I killed you the first time, Mr. Teague.
I promise, I will not make the same mistake twice.
(blows thudding) (intense music)
You are a good cop, Mr. Teague, but a lousy fighter.
(Jamison grunts) (blows thudding)
- No!
Teague!
- Oh snap, Mr. Teague.
(bones snapping)
- Snap indeed.
(romantic music)
(Carol gasping)
- Teague, you saved my life.
- No, Carol, you saved mine.
(bones snapping)
Oh (bleep).
(bones snapping)
That's just.
(bones snapping)
(tense music)
- All right, partner, take this scumbag downtown
before the Mexicans find him and blow his ass away.
- I'm gonna keep you alive, Chico.
Comprende?
(officer laughs)
(dramatic synth music)
- No!
(explosion booms)
No!
(bird squawking) (explosion booms)
Is that a bird?
- Hey!
Do you know what happened?
- No.
(explosion booms)
Oh!
Oh, I get it.
When I say no stuff blows up.
(explosion booms)
Cool.
♪ Saving Earth from space, Power Falcons ♪
(blow thuds)
- Yellow Falcon, what do your senses tell ya?
- Destructo is a killing machine.
His armor is impervious to our blasters.
You got any ideas, Red Falcon?
- Sure do, Yellow Falcon.
Blue Falcon, you remember our battle at Dango Bluff?
I'll take the legs, you take the blasters.
- It was Beaver Creek, and I took the legs.
Make sure you shore up that flank, Black Falcon.
- Um, are you talking to me?
Because I'm the Green Falcon.
- No time for that, Black Falcon.
Purple Falcon, arm missiles!
- Roger that.
Arming missiles now.
- Uh- - Battle formations,
we're going in.
- Hey- - Roger that.
- Hold up. - Copy that.
- Roger. - My falcon is green.
- Hey, hey, hey, we can talk about our falcon colors
when we get back to base, Black Falcon.
Right now, we got a mission to do.
Fall into falcon formation.
(passengers screaming) (explosion booms)
- Well, now, here's the issue is that,
you're gonna give me an order,
I'm not gonna know you're talking to me.
'Cause I'm not in a black falcon.
- Come on, chill it out, Black Falcon.
- Yeah, Black Falcon, relax.
- First of all,
I don't like the way you guys are saying "black."
Second of all, there is no Black Falcon!
I'm Green Falcon!
- Black Falcon, homie,
no one's trying to get up in your grill here.
- Uh-uh, uh-uh, uh-uh, don't talk to me like that.
No, don't say "grill" like that.
I'm the Green Falcon and I-
- Oh, stop being so Black Falcon about it.
- What the (bleep) do you mean by that?
- Black Falcon, brother,
I understand what you're going through.
- Do you?
No, I don't think you do.
How would you feel if I called you Red Falcon, huh?
- Whoa!
- And Purple Falcon,
how would you feel if I called you Yellow Falcon, huh?
- That's racist.
- That was racist.
- Yeah, that's racist.
- Ooh, that is racist.
- That's racist?
Oh, see, okay, nope, forget it.
Black Falcon out, Green Falcon!
Green Falcon!
Damn it!
- Hey!
Why'd that Green Falcon fall out of falcon formation?
Black Falcon, get on that and report back.
Black Falcon?
Black Falcon, come in.
♪ Saving earth from space, Power Falcons ♪
(tense music)
- Give yourself up, Carlo.
- [Carlo] Why would I do that, detective?
When I have the upper hand? (laughs)
- Give yourself up, Carlo.
- I'm right here, detective. (laughs)
- Damn it.
- Or am I over here, detective? (laughs)
(tense music)
or here.
- You sick son of a bitch.
Where the hell are you?
You son of a bitch, come out!
- Does my ass look big in this jumpsuit?
- Enough of the games, Carlo.
- The games are just beginning.
(Carlo laughs)
Mirror, mirror, on the wall.
Who's the fairest of them, whoa, whoa.
- Don't move.
You are under arrest for the murder of Mary Dealey,
Meg Foster, and one detective Mason Jimenez.
Now where's the girl.
- Oh, detective,
you assume it's the real me standing in front of you,
but maybe that's just what I want you to think.
When in reality, the real me is safe in a hiding spot.
- Okay, that's the real you all right.
- Or maybe I'm over here.
- No, no, you're not over there.
Carlo, I'm only gonna ask you one more time.
Where is the girl?
- Go ahead and shoot detective.
(laughs) I mean, what do I care
if you get seven years bad luck,
okay, you know it's not safe to keep a gun cocked like that,
even if you are just pointing it in a mirror.
- Turn around and put your hands on your head.
- Now for that you really are
going to have to find the real me.
- Oh my god, you're kidding me.
(gun bangs) (Carlo squeaks)
(Carlo imitating glass shattering)
- Carlo, what?
- Why would you shoot a mirror?
- Carlo, it's you, I'm holding your lapel!
Now you're done, it's over.
- You're gonna cut your hand on that broken mirror.
- Where is she?
- Just say it, dude.
- Say what?
- Say you don't know whether or not this is the real me
or just a reflection in the mirror.
- Really?
- I'll tell you where she is.
- Okay, I don't know whether
the you I'm holding onto is really you
or a reflection in the mirror.
- See, not much to it.
She's under the floorboards by the entrance.
Oh!
I win, detective!
I told you but, I mean, the mirror told you,
but what, you know...
Oh (bleep).
(rhythmic music)