[techno music]
♪ ♪
[engine revving]
[tires squealing]
Aah!
[tires screeching]
Rad Cunningham,
President of the Academy of Sharts and Sciences.
I love your puny wheels, Dazzle.
You kiss your grandmother with that car?
At least I don't drive a big, dumb idiot mobile.
Well, I bet this idiot can beat you to work.
- Not a chance. - Well, how about this?
If I win, I get your parking space.
- You're on. [ding]
[tires squealing]
[shouts]
Ooh.
[Dazzle yells]
Crap.
[horns honking]
Looks like I've only got one option,
the Quintriple Flip N' Split.
[tires squealing]
I got Dazzle's parking space!
The space I always wanted-- I got the space!
Dazzle, which spot is the closest?
The closest or the second closest?
Damn it, Rad, you know the closest is the closest.
Ha! He said it, everyone!
Closest is the closest!
Second closest is the farthest away!
Oh, it's like it's in another state!
Ba-do-do-doodle-loo-loo!
[horn honking]
Whoo-whoo-whoo!
[techno music]
♪ ♪
[Dazzle groaning]
Hi, Dazzle.
Ah, so relaxed.
With all the walking time I saved,
I leisurely drank a whole cup of coffee.
Looks pretty full to me.
Nope, just one more sip.
Oh!
And now I'm only two steps from the elevator.
One...two.
[groaning]
- Hold the door, asshole. - Sorry.
This thing can't hold more than one douche bag.
So you're saying you're a douche bag?
- Uh, wait, uh... [elevator bell dings]
No, no, no.
Okay, Shimmerman.
You show us where you've got those girls chained up,
and maybe I won't break your goddamn nose.
I haven't the faintest clue what you're talking about.
Then buckle up, asshole.
I bark, but my partner bites.
Show him, Dazzle!
[crying]
Is he okay?
Could you excuse us just a minute, please?
Dazzle, you're embarrassing me in there!
Are you upset because Rad parked barely closer than you?
Yes, that's all I'm upset about.
Certainly not the dark shadow
of the Quintriple Flip N' Split,
which haunts me every day.
What are you talking about?
If you're trying to rip open my childhood wounds,
you can forget about it.
I am definitely not--
Fine, you twisted my arm.
(Dazzle) I was 15 years old, in the hot, sticky center
of the greatest summer of my life,
working in the high-octane, rip-and-occasionally-roaring
stunt spectacular.
I spent each day helping out the baddest, assiest
stunt driver on the planet, my father, Razzle Novak.
Bing, bang, boom.
(Dazzle) I wanted to be just like him,
albeit, with a clean slate, STD-wise.
Rumor has it he ran the venereal gamut.
By summer's end, I'd developed an incurable taste
for a spicy delicacy called danger.
That's not fair!
Why can't I drive in the show?
Hmm. How can I put this delicately?
You're the worst driver I've ever seen.
I knew he was saying those things just to protect me.
Now, you may think I'm just saying these things
to protect you, but your driving blows, baby.
He would rather break my heart than put it in danger.
Feel free to put yourself in danger anywhere else,
just not here where my stunt buds can see.
You're wrong, Dad! And I'll prove it!
Attention!
The great Dazzle Novak
is about to perform the Quintriple Flip N' Split!
No, son, you could never pull it off!
The triqumple maybe, but not the quintriple!
[tires squealing]
[crash]
Was that your son?
No, not my son.
Definitely not my son.
(Dazzle) My dad banned me from the track,
and we haven't spoken since.
To get my danger fix, I was forced to become a cop,
which was going okay until this parking thing.
Now there is but one path to my redemption.
It doesn't involve rescuing some kidnapped girls, does it?
- Nope. - I didn't think so.
I need to learn to drive my dick off.
And there's only one man who can help me drive my dick off.
[rock music]
[crowd cheering]
Ha ha ha!
Once I kill that idiot Officer Speed Damon,
I'll take over the schools with my machine
that turns rock music into drugs.
(all) Boo!
Aw, boo!
Are you kids or ghosts?
Who's gonna stop me?
I don't see Officer Damon anywhere!
- He's behind you! - He's right behind you, idiot!
- Where? - Right here, Don Fatsoli!
[boing]
Ow, you stupid cop-compoop!
[slide whistle blows]
No! Why, you--
Aw!
(male announcer) And cut!
In the role of Officer Speed Damon,
give it up for 40-year stunt veteran Razzle Novak!
Enjoy the rest of your day at Mooniversal Studios.
Excuse me. [chuckles]
My son can't see.
Get a taller son. What do you want from me?
Remember, kids,
try any and all of these stunts at home.
It's the only way you're gonna learn.
There were two things racing 100 miles an hour today--
your car and my heart.
Do I hear the sound
not of burning tires but of yearning eye tears?
Razzle.
Dazzle.
Razzle.
Dazzle.
Razzle.
Dazzle.
- Razzle. - Dazzle!
[techno music]
Quitting time. Pretty good day, huh, boss?
Well, four of our officers
were accused of sodomizing a suspect with a broom, so, no!
Yeah, solid day all around.
Now to cap this perfect day
with a perfect walk to my perfect space.
One.
Two--Aah!
Hello, I am Valid-8.
Please insert validation.
Oh, let me just, uh, find the ticket.
Please insert validation.
Give me a sec. Just having trouble finding the--
- Please insert validation. - Listen, asshole!
I'm Rad Cunningham,
the hottest cop with the toppest spot.
I'm exempt from tickets!
Your complaints are invalid.
Please insert validation.
What?
God, there's so many zippers in this thing.
How about you insert validation?
Just give me a second! Maybe it's in a pocket.
Here's a thought. Please insert validation.
- Aah! [car horn honks]
Move it, Rad! I've got front-row seats
for Stratus & Dunn at the Moonbeam Heliodrome.
I am trying, Pizzaz! Stupid bitch.
What did you say?
Uh, I said, stupid rich am I,
so I can easily pay the lost-ticket fee.
Lost ticket pays $30 maximum.
Aah!
I can't believe it! $13?
No, $30!
Aah!
(Dazzle) Wow, you are still going strong, Dad.
Most men your age only get lit on fire
in Christmas tree accidents.
Shh, here's a little trade secret.
It's not fire.
It's faux-ire, a safe, non-hot fire substitute.
Look close.
It's tinted green.
Rub it on your arms.
Put some in your mouth.
Ah, what a refreshing lemon-lime kick.
Hey, Razz, we're heading up to Breakaways.
You want a ride?
Let's burn rubber, baby.
[strains]
[horns honking]
(man) I'm missing my daughter's wedding, asshole!
God, why did I come to work today?
That's it, Rad. I'm gonna find your ticket.
Then I'm gonna find a Rad-sized meat grinder to throw you in.
No, no, no, don't look at this stuff!
Is this your check for one and a half cents?
Yes, I was an extra on a TV in a mirror in a porno.
Jesus Christ. Is this a used condom?
A barely used condom.
What the hell is Spineflex?
Ha ha.
You know, it's pills that gradually curve your spine.
Why would anyone want to do that?
Uh, you know, so I can go more forward.
Forward?
Into my lap...
with my...mouth.
Your mouth?
You know, my mouth wants to be friends
with that area of my body.
Ugh! Rad, you are the most disgusting person
I have ever met!
You are!
Whoa!
Should we exchange insurance information?
Uh, the jukebox won't take my quarters.
It don't run on quarters.
Runs on heads.
You got a lot to learn about stunt bars, city boy.
Dazzle, this is my old stunt pal Kitch Legstrong.
He plays that villainous oaf, Don Fatsoli.
Oh, wow!
You are so funny.
What a stupid klutz.
You're a living joke!
Ha ha ha. Yeah, that's me.
Goddamn barrel of laughs.
I've spent years exposing his heart-covered boxers.
That's right. Still funny.
Hearts on a man's underpants--
how ridiculous!
Got 'em on tonight?
Watch it, Novak.
All in good fun, Legstrong.
[laughs]
Someday your underpants are gonna be underground--
six feet under...
with you in them, 'cause you'll be dead...
in your underpants...
in a coffin.
[horns honking]
(Valid-8) Please insert validation!
Aah! Let me talk to a freaking human being!
Hello!
I am Assistroid.
How can I be of assistance?
You can tell this bot-brained bot-brain to let me the eff out!
Did you insert validation?
(both) Please insert validation.
Ah, stop it!
My arm!
- You killed Valid-8! [alarm blares]
Murderer!
[screams, grunts]
Human maniac on the loose!
Subject has not been validated!
Don't go down there, Rad!
No one's gone below P-6 and made it out alive!
I tried to warm him, right?
Somebody heard that. I was warning the guy.
All right, anyway.
So, Dazzle, what brings you back after all these years?
Please don't say money. Please don't say money.
I need your guidance to perfect a certain stunt,
a stunt so stuntastic, it could--
Don't say it.
A stunt so stunterrific, it would--
Don't you dare say it.
Will you teach me to--
No, the Quintriple Flip N' Split
is too dangerous for you!
Whatever criminal you're trying to catch, it's not worth it.
Oh, it's not for a criminal.
I lost a really great parking space
because I couldn't do the stunt,
and so now I need to learn it to protect future parking spaces.
Oh, why didn't you say so, baby?
That changes everything.
It's like you always said.
The dumber the reason, the more it must be done.
Yes, that's the stuntman credo.
[alarm blaring]
(robotic voice) Warning, severe foot damage.
Ahh, ha ha! Oh, God, got to hide.
Hey, a vent, but I'll never fit through there.
I'm not the flexible.
[gasps] Spineflex!
Hmm, I don't feel anything.
[screaming]
[groans]
Yah!
Ugh, can we not sit in the splash zone?
I don't want to get all wet.
Where else can we go?
There's no seats left in the Drench Nook.
Hello, boys and girls.
My name is Razzle Novak.
I've been putting the "stravaganza"
in "stuntstravaganza"
for over 20 years,
but today's show is special.
It's dedicated to my son.
This stunt's for you, Dazzle.
Bing, bang, boom.
He's going for the Flip N' Split!
[tires squealing]
[crowd ohhs]
Oh, God, is he hurt?
Don't worry. It's all part of the show.
(Fulton) This is not part of the show!
What an odd line to be part of the show.
Turn my mic off so the kids don't hear me say Razzle's dead!
- Dad! [baby cries]
[techno music]
[somber music]
♪ ♪
[sniffles] This is all my fault.
You can't blame yourself.
Your elderly father chose to perform a very dangerous stunt.
You're right.
The only man to blame is Rad Cunningham.
No, that's not what I meant.
Today as I stand in the deepest valley of despair,
Rad is gloating on the highest peak of ecstasy.
Aah! My bones and skin!
[glass shatters]
Who's there? Who's there?
We are the denizens of P-174.
We live here under cover of shadow,
having refused to pay the lost-ticket fees.
Tell me, how much do they charge now?
30 bucks.
Really? Used to be 40.
They actually lowered it.
Where are you, unvalidated one?
Quick, hide!
It's Assistroid.
[both hissing]
My eyes!
How do I get out here?
Out? There is but one way out--
the Shaft of Infinite Sorrow and Climbing.
So there it is.
Better get started, because it's a long climb.
Dazzle, check this out.
I've been watching the footage of your father's death.
You sick freak.
I always pegged you as a snuff fan.
No, look at this. The explosion--
- It's bright orange. - My God.
See, it's not sweet, lemon-limey faux-ire.
It's hot, burny fi-ire.
Someone must have switched it out,
and I think I have a good idea who.
[laughs maniacally]
I say we head over to Mooniversal Studios,
see what he knows.
He will never confess to us.
The stuntmen are a very secretive fraternity.
If Legstrong's beans are to be spilled,
he'll only do it to one of his own.
I hope this works.
(Dazzle over radio) Just stick to my masculine script.
You'll be fine.
[grunting]
You okay, chief?
I missed a, uh, crash pad,
sprained my scrote.
Name's Ram Cloutwood.
Can you hook a stunt brother up with some painkillers?
Sure, if you're a real stuntman.
Let me see the stuntman handshake.
Uh, stuntmen don't shake hands,
'cause only sissies touch each other?
Right. Follow me.
I got some real potent Vicopercoxyxanosecodryne.
So you know what gets my rocks off?
Murder.
You don't say.
But, uh, what makes me spooge big-time
is describing the murder to a stranger.
You're an interesting man, Cloutwood.
I am interesting and a man.
So got any sweet murder deets for me?
Eh, can't say I do.
Oh, well, there was this one time.
Yesterday...
I offed a real piece of human garbage.
(Dazzle) No way is he talking about my dad.
His name was Razzle Novak.
[Dazzle gasps]
He drove me up the wall for years.
Those heart boxers,
the shrieks of the crowd, the shame,
their high-pitched laughs stabbing me
like little sound knives, all 'cause of Razzle Novak.
Well, I took care of Razzle,
and if I see his boy again--
You'll do what, Legstrong?
That's him!
The son from the story I just told!
Cloutwood, let's kill him and get us a couple murder boners.
I'm afraid this man is a fe-man.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry I lied.
Now we're gonna lock you up
where you can never kill my father anymore.
Okay, we could settle this like men,
or we could settle this like stuntmen.
Do you mean--
Yes! A stunt-off!
You've got yourself a deal.
Why would you agree to that?
We have his confession on tape. Let's arrest him.
So what, we just bring him in
to our same dumb office we're at all the time?
That's boring. You're boring.
We're doing the stunt-off.
Okay, first stuntman to perform
the ten stuntiest stunts
in the mega-stunt warehouse wins the stunt-off.
Are we clear, fellas?
- Yeah! - Yeah, yeah, yeah.
[engines revving]
Ready! Set! Drop!
Yee-haw!
So what, is this like a race?
No, it's a stunt-off. Jeez!
[tires squealing]
Oh, no! Dazzle keeps hitting things.
Hitting things is good in a stunt-off.
Why aren't you getting this?
[Rad grunting]
Fall into death's arms, unvalidated one.
Ah, never!
[crowd oohs]
Ah, brick wall!
[yells]
Damn. Kitch is winning.
He's nearly achieved maximum stuntitude.
'Tis my darkest hour.
What do I do?
(Razzle) Dazzle...
[gasps] Razzle?
Dazzle, baby.
I have come to guide you from the realm of the ethanol.
Do you mean "ethereal"?
Probably.
Even from Heaven,
you are clearly losing this stunt-off.
There's only one stunt stunty enough
to defeat Legstrong.
[rock music]
(both) Quintriple Flip N' Split.
[engine revving, tires squealing]
[both screaming]
[crowd cheers]
You've made me the proudest ghost in Heaven!
Say hi to Grandpa Frazzle for me.
Actually, Grandpa Frazzle's in hell.
He did terrible, terrible things.
Kitch Legstrong, you are under arrest.
Chrysalis, de-pants this man!
[slide whistle blows] - No!
[techno music]
A permanent space in my dad's honor--
I'm speechless.
You put that sign there yourself.
Shh. Don't ruin the moment.
Oh, my God. I made it!
Unvalidated one captured.
Initiate decapitation protocol.
No, no, no, no, no! Please don't, please don't!
Jesus, Rad.
This is still going on? Pay the damn fine!
Okay, okay, I'll pay, I'll pay, I'll pay.
Final fee is $30, plus one destroyed Valid-8,
plus emotional damage for Valid-8's family.
Our poor son.
Subject owes... [humming]
$1.2 million.
What?
Rad, until you pay this robot back,
you're suspended.
Oh, where am I gonna pick up another job?
Shut up, you snot-nosers!
I'd like to see your faces on milk cartons!
[crowd jeering]
Ah, it's an all-I-can-eat boo-ffet
with a complimentary hiss bar!
Wow, he is so effortlessly hateable.
(all) Boo!
We hate you, Rad!
Boo!
Hey, look, everyone, my dad's ghost.
[techno music]
- Chirp. - Yay!
(man) Boo!
Guitar solo!
[imitating guitar solo]
Oh, sax!
[imitating saxophone playing]