(heavy breathing)
- Boy, you're in a heap of trouble.
- Hey you scratched my pan,
I oughta take a blow torch to you, man!
- You broke the road!
You very bad car.
- Officer, talk to me, babe, how long is this gonna take?
I gotta get to California pronto.
- Where's your lawyer?
- I don't know, Tahiti, maybe.
He's got a timeshare there.
- When a defendant has no lawyer,
the court will assign one to him.
Hey!
Anyone wanna be his lawyer?
(tires screech)
- Shoot, I'll do it, sheriff.
- All rise, the honorable Doc Hudson presiding.
- Show off.
- May Doc have mercy on your soul.
- All right, I wanna know who's responsible for
wrecking my town, sheriff.
I want his hood on a platter.
I'm gonna put him in jail 'till he rots.
No, check that.
I'm gonna put him in jail 'till the jail rots
on top of him and then I'm gonna move him to a new jail
and let that jail rot.
This here is Bessie.
Finest road pavin' machine ever built.
I'm hereby sentencing you to community service.
You're gonna fix the road under my supervision.
- What?
This place is crazy.
- Hey and I know this may be a bad time right now but
you owe me $32,000 in legal fees.
- What?
- So we're gonna hitch you up to sweet Bessie
and you're gonna pull her nice.
- You gotta be kidding me.
- You start there where the road begins.
You finish down there where the road ends.
- Holy shoot!
That's why we mayhemed it good.
Boy you shoulda heard me on giddyap,
pop a, my oh my.
I'm not one to brag.
People come pretty far to see me get low on the my oh my.
- Oh!
Oh man, that's just great.
- Hey what's wrong?
- My lucky sticker's all dirty.
- That ain't nothin' I'll clean it for ya.
(snorts)
- No, no, no, no, no!
That won't be necessary.
Hey,
hey big fella.
Yeah, you in the red.
I could use a little hose down, help me wash this off.
Where's he goin'?
- Oh he's just a little bit shy
and he hates ya for killin' his flowers.
- I shouldn't have to put up with this.
I'm a precision instrument of speed and aerodynamics.
- Ya hurt your what?
Whoo hoo!
I'm the first one on the new road!
Oh!
(teeth chatter)
It rides pretty cool.
(teeth chatter)
- It looks awful.
- Now it matches the rest of the town.
(gasps)
(crying)
- Red!
Who do you think you are?
- Look, Doc said when I finish, I could go.
That was the deal.
- The deal was you fix the road.
Not make it worse.
Now scrape it off, start over again.
- Hey look, grandpa, I'm not a bulldozer.
I'm a race car.
- Oh is that right?
Then why don't we just have a little race,
me and you?
- What? (laughs)
Me and you, is that a joke?
- If you win, you go and I fix the road.
If I win, you do the road my way.
- Doc, what are you doin'?
(laughs)
- I don't mean to be rude here, Doc,
but you probably go zero to 60 in like, what,
three point five years?
- Well then I reckon you ain't got nothin' to worry about.
- You know what, old timer?
That's a wonderful idea.
Let's race.
(engine roars)
(tires screech)
(yells)
- Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!
No, no, no, no, no!
(crashes)
- Oh man! - Whoa!
- Ow. - Bad trip man.
(engine revs)
- Hey
was that floatin' like a Cadillac
or was that stingin' like a beamer?
I'm confused.
(laughs)
You drive like you fix roads.
Lousy.
Have fun fishin' Mater.
(chuckles)
- Oh!
Dah!
- I'm startin' to think he knowed you was gonna crash.
- Thank you, Mater, thank you.
I can make a little turn on dirt, you think?
No, and now I'm a day behind.
I'm never gonna get outta here.
- Hey ese,
you need a new paint job, man.
- [Lightning] No, thank you.
- How 'bout some organic fuel?
- That freak juice?
- [Lightning] Pass.
- Whoo!
Watching him work is making me thirsty.
Anybody else want something to drink?
- Nah, not me, Flo, I'm on one of them there
special diets.
I'm a precisional instrument of speed and aeromatics.
- He's gone?
- Well, we wouldn't want him to miss that race of his.
(whimpers)
(cries)
- What's wrong with red?
- Oh he's just sad 'cause you left town
and went to your big race to win the Piston Cup
that you've always dreamed about your whole life and
get that big old sponsor and that fancy helicopter
you was talkin' about.
(sucks on teeth)
(gasps)
Wait a minute!
(laughing)
I knowed you wouldn't leave without saying goodbye.
(laughs)
- What are you doing here, son?
You're gonna miss your race.
Don't worry, I'll give you a police escort
and we'll make up the time.
- Thank you sheriff.
But you know I can't go just yet.
- Why not?
- I'm not sure these tires
can get me all the way to California.
- Pit stop?
- Yeah, does anybody know what time Luigi's opens?
(engine roars)
- All right, if you can drive as good as you can
fix the road,
then you can win this race with your eyes shut.
Now get back out there.
(engine revs)
(tires screech)
Hot snot, we are back in business.
Guido, Luigi, you're goin' up against professional
pit crews boys, you're gonna have to be fast.
- They will not know what pit them.
- Kid, you can beat these guys.
Find a groove that works for ya and get that lap back.
(engine roars)
(upbeat music)