♪♪
And that's bowling.
French, why do people bowl?
Bowling is a game, French.
Games are fun.
Don't patronize me.
Do that again and I'll slit your throat.
Branski, did you see who's rolling in the other lane?
That's Crimson Dagger.
She's the head of the Tanaka crime syndicate, the yakuza.
She's a police problem, not Hot Streets'.
We're on her turf, and she's in the middle of a perfect game.
The one thing you never do with Crimson Dagger
is get between her and winning.
Has anyone seen Chubbie Webbers?
[ Moaning ]
[ Sniffs ]
[ Sighs ]
[ Gasps ]
[ Guns cocking ]
I got this.
You obviously speak my language.
Don't be coy with me, Hot Streets boy.
I've never seen a woman look at Uncle Mark like this.
She is into him.
[ Speaking Japanese ]
[ Chuckles ]
You speak Japanese? I don't.
I just made up a bunch of words and guessed.
And if you were to guess what she said to you?
As you know, I don't speak Japanese,
but I'm guessing she told me that
if the Tanaka syndicate ever saw Chubbie Webbers again,
they'd cut off his hands and feet
and stuff them up his gaping butthole.
Damn.
♪♪
We've got a problem. The rights to the moon have expired,
and now it's up for grabs.
The moon? My favorite planet!
Per intergalactic law,
the rights go to the winner of a space race.
Winner takes moon.
You'll be going up against
parties with nefarious intentions.
Who knows what these sickos will do with our moon.
The moon belongs to America. That's the spirit.
I'm teleporting you to the Space Casino
where the race is being held.
This'll be a good way to avoid the local yakuza.
You've got to get a handle
on your ass-sniffing obsession, Chubbie.
Ooh! This is an unbelievable smell.
Remember, win the race, win our moon.
♪♪
Get a look at this place.
A casino, spa, fancy shows.
A race track!
This place has everything.
And if it doesn't, we'll get it for you.
That is our promise to you when you're aboard
the Winds of Chance.
I'm guessing you're the concierge.
It's my name and my function, Agent Branski.
Whatever you, Miss Sanders,
Agent French, and Mr. Chubbie Webbers need
during your stay, I'll do my best to provide.
You sure know a lot about us.
It's my job to anticipate every need, Jennifer.
I'm a servant of the ship.
My people, the Jardain, live to serve.
You might say it's within our bones.
We're just here for the race.
Crimson and the Tanaka syndicate!
Ohh! Ohh! Don't!
Crimson Dagger is a contestant in the race.
French, Jen, keep Chubbie out of sight
while I win our moon back.
If you're looking for a place to hide,
might I suggest one of our fine selection of music shows?
Let's go.
Thanks for the tip.
Of course, Agent Branski.
And speaking of tip...
Sorry. I don't have any money.
Luckily, the currency of the Jardain is bone marrow.
I still don't want to tip you.
♪♪
The name's Leopold.
Hey, after my second wife, Misha, died in a weird cave,
I put all my energy into an Internet start-up.
If I win the moon, I'm gonna put a big
hotdogz.biz sign on it.
I'm gonna win so humanity doesn't die.
Hey, that's cool, too.
Uh, you -- you drink?
Boozers are losers.
Oh, like the losers you hang with?
I hope your animal isn't on this ship.
I'm here alone.
Why do you want the moon?
The Tanaka syndicate has plans.
But why do you want the moon?
[ Fanfare plays ]
Presenting His Countenance, Van Plunch Runch III.
He's the most feared racer in the galaxy.
Oh, how quaint. Earth's finest.
A trained agent of the law, a crime boss,
and a hawker of low-rent sausages.
This will be an easy victory.
Your moon will look perfect in my collection
in the Spiro Nebula.
You look like a little George Washington.
[ Crowd gasps ] I do not know who that is!
How dare you! Leave our moon alone!
When I win, Earth dies.
The concierge suggested a show.
[ Gasps ] We should take Chubbie
to the Hollywood Country Hick Jamboree!
A high-class show like that? The yakuza will be all over it.
We should blend in with the gamblers here in the slots.
Where's Chubbie?
[ Muttering ]
[ Sniffs, sighs ]
Wait! Mommy, help me! Help me!
That costume room!
Make sure you tighten your radiator lugs.
I like to keep my lugs loose.
You asked me earlier why I wanted the moon.
Throw the race and we both win.
I get the moon.
You get me.
[ Sighs ]
Sorry.
That's not the Hot Streets way.
Hmm. I get it.
A toast, then? To fair play?
I don't drink.
But okay.
[ Slurps ]
What... did you put...
in my drink?
Just a little something called alcohol.
♪♪
We'll never get out alive.
Shush!
Announcer: Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome
the Hollywood Country Hicks!
Okay, we're fucked.
If we don't put on a show, they'll wise up to us.
Eef! [ Gasps ]
Hi!
What is that?
It's a classic act called eefing and hambone.
♪ Eef, oaf, eef, ife ♪
♪ Eef, oaf, eef ♪
We're charming the shit out of those skeletons.
Welcome, one and all, to the grandest of races.
Hey, my kart can go up to 30 miles per hour.
Pretty good, right?
Our karts go over 200 miles an hour, peon.
Oh.
Uh, well, slow and steady wins the race, right?
I'm like that turtle.
Has anyone seen Agent Branski?
If he's not here soon, he'll forfeit.
I cannot tell a lie.
He probably got too scared to race me.
Guess again, little George Washington.
Agent Branski, you seem...drunk.
I'm wasted.
Racers, the winner takes the moon.
Ready?
♪ Eef, ife ♪
[ Applause ]
[ Panting ]
I can't eef another oof.
The yakuza guy!
I am a big fan.
Autograph?
Huh? [ Gasps ]
[ Pen clatters ] I'll get it.
[ Sniffs ] Oh, whoo!
Yum!
Ass dog!
With one lap to go, it's Plunch Runch leading Crimson Dagger.
I'm chopping down your cherry tree, little George Washington!
I'm His Countenance Van Plunch Runch III,
and this is my berry tree.
I don't know who this George Washington is,
for Christ's sake.
Honk, honk!
I cannot tell a lie.
My back hurts.
As your concierge, I hate to see you lose,
so I put an engine disrupter in your car.
Push the button and Crimson Dagger's car stops.
All you have to do is share the moon with the Jardain.
As you may or may not know, the moon is a giant bone.
We just want the marrow inside.
You can keep the rest.
Nah. [ Tires screech ]
Man, I'm drunk.
Looks like Crimson Dagger is headed for the finish line.
But here comes Branski.
I'm sober now.
Incredible! Branski is in the lead.
Uh-oh. Looks like Crimson Dagger
is using an engine-disrupter beam on Branski.
It's over.
Crimson Dagger has won the moon!
You don't deserve that moon deed, you bastard!
I thought you wanted the moon alone.
I wanted to win, and I did.
Besides, he just wants the marrow inside the moon.
And once we extract that,
Crimson Dagger can have the rest.
You orchestrated all of this, didn't you?
No matter who won, you got your moon marrow.
It is my job, or at least it was.
The Jardain are servants no longer!
[ Laughs ]
[ Drill whirring ] What's happening?
Looks like that drill is taking out all the moonlight!
What's a moon without moonlight?
Hey, it's like a bun without a dog!
A bun without a dog!
Leopold's right. We need to stop this -- all of us.
I wanted to win the moon, Hot Street boy, not save it.
We need to work together to stop these boneheads.
Little George Washington?
I cannot tell a lie. I despise cheaters.
We can use my teleporter to get to the moon.
And I can cater this caper.
hotdogz.biz. That's "hotdogz" with a "Z."
All: Drill! Drill! Drill!
Jardain brethren, we have hit our jackpot!
[ Screaming in distance ]
Aah!
They must not stop our drill.
There's just too many of them!
Then maybe I should eefin' the odds.
♪ Eef, oaf, oaf, ife ♪
♪ Ife, oaf, eef, oaf ♪
Oh. They're doing it.
♪♪
Agent Branski, I beg mercy.
All that the Jardain want is a life of freedom and happiness.
Let us have the marrow and the moon is yours.
The moon belongs to no one,
except me and three other people.
♪♪
This is for my dead wife, Misha.
But hey, what're you gonna do?
Ha-ha! You gotta keep going.
Hey, look at us! We're the moon masters!
What's the hold up,
Your Countenance Van Plunch Runch III?
I cannot tell a lie.
I am little George Washington.
We won! We won! We won! We won!
Yeah!
Leopold: Get yourself a hot dog!
Moon masters, yeah!
♪♪