Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby

Ricky Bobby:
[running around on the track in his underwear, thinking he is on fire] Help me Jesus! Help me Jewish God! Help me Allah! AAAAAHHH! Help me, Tom Cruise! Tom Cruise, use your witchcraft on me to get the fire off me!

Ricky Bobby:
I sent in my application to The Real World, so I'm hoping to hear back from that. I'm putting a lot of my eggs into that basket, the MTV basket. And if that doesn't work out I'm thinking about getting a gun, and dealin' crack. Being a crack dealer. Not, like, a mean crack dealer, but like... like a nice one. Kinda friendly, like, "Hey, what's up guys? You want some crack?". I'm just kinda waiting on those two things to flesh themselves out.

Ricky Bobby:
Dear Lord Baby Jesus, we'd also like to thank you for my wife's father Chip. We hope that you can use your baby Jesus powers to heal him and his horrible leg. It smells terrible and the dogs are always bothering with it...

Ricky Bobby:
Dear Lord Baby Jesus, lying there in your...your little ghost manger, lookin' at your Baby Einstein developmental...videos, learnin' 'bout shapes and colors...

Ricky Bobby:
Hang on, Baby Jesus, this is gon' get bumpy!

Ricky Bobby:
Hey, Jamie! Losing's never fun, but here's a little something to pick your spirits up... (flips bird) It's real nice...I got it at Target...it was on sale.

Ricky Bobby:
[driving his first race] Hey, Lucius, I just wanted to share a piece of personal information with you. I've got a...a chubby right now because THIS IS ONE OF THE MOST AWESOME EXPERIENCES OF MY LIFE BECAUSE I'M GETTIN' TO DRIVE A RACECAR I CAN'T BELIEVE IT OH MY GOD!!!

Ricky Bobby:
[Looking under the hood of his race car] Hot dog! I mean, that's like lookin' up Yasmine Bleeth's skirt!

Ricky Bobby:
Hey. I'm Ricky Bobby. When you're workin' on your mysterious lady part stuff, you should have the right tools too. That's why you should use...Maypax. The official tampon of NASCAR.

Ricky Bobby:
You gotta win to get love. I mean, that's just life. Look at...look at Don Shula. Legendary coach. Look at that Asian guy who holds the world record for eatin' all those hot dogs in a row. Look at Rue McClanahan. From The Golden Girls. Three people, all great champions, all loved.

Ricky Bobby:
Mr. Dennit, with all due respect, and remember I'm sayin' with all due respect, that idea ain't worth a velvet painting of a whale and a dolphin gettin' it on.

Ricky Bobby:
[doing a Big Red commercial] My friends used to call me Big Red, but I told 'em "Stop it!" 'cause there's only one Big Red in town, America's number 1 cinnamon gum. What? What did you say? That's what I thought.

Ricky Bobby:
I'm Ricky Bobby. If you don't chew Big Red, then [bleep] you.

Ricky Bobby:
Hi, I'm Ricky Bobby. Christmas is right around the corner, and what better gift to give a loved one [pulls out knife] than this Jackhawk 9000. Available at Wal-Mart!

Ricky Bobby:
When you work on your mysterious lady parts and stuff, you need the right tools too. That's why you should use [is tossed a box of tampons] Maypax. The official tampon of NASCAR.

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
I like to picture Jesus in a tuxedo T-shirt. 'Cause it says like, I wanna be formal but I'm here to party too. I like to party, so I like my Jesus to party.

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
Now, I've got a message for all the other drivers out there. If you smell a delicious, crispy smell after the race, it's not your tailpipe. It's just a little of Shake...and Bake!

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
[after Girard breaks Ricky's arm] Hold on a second, Mr. Fancy-Pants Foreigner. You just broke my bro's arm. Now you're 'bout to get tasered. Say hello to Dr. Watts!

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
[to Ricky, in the hospital] There's somethin' I want to get off my chest. It's about that summer, when you went away to community college. I got an offer to do Playgirl Magazine, and I did it. I did a full spread for Playgirl Magazine. I mean spread, man, I pulled my butt apart and stuff...I was totally nude...it was weird. I mean, you probably didn't hear about it 'cause I went under the name of Mike Honcho. But I just wanted you to know that. If you can hear me, if it got into your brain somehow...that I spread my buttcheeks as Mike Honcho.

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
I like to think of Jesus like a muscular trapeze artist.

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
I like to think of Jesus like a shapeshifter, or a changeling, like that guy--You ever hear of that TV show Manimal?

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
We go together like Easter mornin' and Lyme Disease.

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
We go together like suits of armor and electrical storms.

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
I'm just sayin' we click, you know? We're like skateboardin' and freeway ramps.

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
We go together like pigs and swimmin'.

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
We go together like tuna fish and cigarettes.

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
We go together like campin' trips and head lice.

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
We go together like square dancin' and handguns. Right?

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
Don't make me bring the darkness. [pulls out taser]

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
We go together like cocaine and waffles.

Reese Bobby:
If you ain't first, you're last!

Reese Bobby:
[Getting thrown out of Ricky's school] You people are in the wrong on this one! So in the wrong! This is egregious! You hear me? Egregious!

Reese Bobby:
I saw what happened to you in that race. You saw the fear. You need to learn to drive with the fear, and there ain't nothin' more goddamn frightening than driving with a live cougar in the car.

Reese Bobby:
Hey, close the door and come in. I got weed in here, cowboy.

Reese Bobby:
[to Ricky who is delivering pizza on a bike] Hey, is that a Huffy? That's a nice-lookin' bike, boy!

Reese Bobby:
Hell, Ricky, I was high when I said that! That makes no sense at all! "First or last"! I mean, you could be second, third, fourth--hell, you could even be fifth!

Walker Bobby:
Daddy, you made that grace your b*tch.

Walker Bobby:
I like to think of Jesus like a ninja, fightin' off evil samurai.

Walker Bobby:
[as Ricky attempts to pass Girard in a race] Send that weird man back to Indonesia!

Walker Bobby:
You're gonna break us like wild horses, ain't you?

Walker Bobby:
Greatest generation my ass, Tom Brokaw is a punk!

Texas Ranger Bobby:
Grandfather, can't we resolve this conflict without anger?

Texas Ranger Bobby:
[Shouting at a neighbor's house] Shut those mutts up before I cook 'em and eat 'em!

Texas Ranger Bobby:
What you lookin' at, Popeye?

Texas Ranger Bobby:
Chip, I'm gonna come at you like a spider monkey!

Texas Ranger Bobby:
Chip, I'm all jacked up on Mountain Dew!

Texas Ranger Bobby:
One'a you turds is about to get smacked in the mouth!

Texas Ranger Bobby:
[throwing away their junk] Aw, Nana, not my prison shank.

Texas Ranger Bobby:
You look old, Granny, are you gonna die today?

Texas Ranger Bobby:
[eating at Applebee's] It's Applebee-riffic!

Glenn:
[about being a pit crew member] Sorry, Lucius, but it's a hard habit to break, like stalking an ex-girlfriend.

Glenn:
Peaches and cream!

Glenn:
Ricky, this car is like your Excalibur, the mighty sword King Arthur used to bring together the knights of the roundtable, until Lancelot betrayed him by laying with his queen [whispering] in the biblical sense.

Lucius Washington:
[After Ricky has stabbed himself in the leg] Here, we'll use this knife to pry the other one out!

Lucius Washington:
[As Ricky races for the first time] Just remember this, Ricky: you wreck that car, that's $200,000 out of your pocket!

Lucius Washington:
Glenn, shut up.

Lucius Washington:
Sometimes, when it's late at night, I dress up like Donna Summers. I put on the skirt, and the four inch heels...I love it. [singing] Last chance, for romance, for love.....

Carley Bobby:
[about Walker and Texas Ranger] If we wanted us some wussies, we would have named them 'Dr. Quinn' and 'Medicine Woman', okay?

Carley, Cal, Walker, Texas Ranger:
Jenga!

Announcer at Racetrack:
[after Girard completes a successful lap] Ladies and gentlemen, that is a new track record. As it stands now, Jean Girard is sitting on the pole - which is, of course, a statement of fact and in no way a comment on the driver's sexual orientation.

Bill Weber:
We'd like to thank you for joining us for NBC's coverage of NASCAR. Coming up next, it's "Ice Dancing To The Hits Of Motown"!

Bill Weber:
Ricky Bobby wins! You'll never see anything like that in a hundred lifetimes! It was completely illegal and in no way will count, but, man, that was something!

Hershell:
[about the jazz music] I want this music out of my head!

Kyle:
[about the jazz music] Sounds like someone made a tape of somethin' dying or something!

Opening title card:
America is all about speed. Hot, nasty, bad-ass speed. - Eleanor Roosevelt, 1936.

Chip:
As Thor said to Loki, "When you roll the dice, you pay the price."

Reese Bobby:
[walks into the classroom] Excuse me, darlin'. I'm Reese Bobby. I'm here for career day.

10 year old Ricky Bobby:
Dad!

Reese Bobby:
Hey there, boy! Man, you got big. How long's it been? Three, four months?

10 year old Ricky Bobby:
Ten years.

Reese Bobby:
Ten years? Man! I gotta lay off the peyote. [puts a cigarette in his mouth]

Ricky's teacher:
Mr. Bobby, there's no smoking in here.

Reese Bobby:
Oh, it's all right, darlin'. I'm a volunteer fireman. Okay, I am a semi-professional racecar driver and an amateur tattoo artist. [Children makes "oohs" and "aahs"] And the first thing you gotta learn if you're gonna be a racecar driver, is you don't listen to losers like your know-it-all teacher.

Ricky's teacher:
Okay, I think that's enough...

Reese Bobby:
See, the teacher wants you to go slow, but she's wrong, 'cause it's the fastest who gets paid and it's the fastest who gets laid. [Children cheer; Reese nods] Aw, yeah.

[Cut to Reese being thrown out by a group of janitors; Ricky's class follows them]

Reese Bobby:
You people are in the wrong on this one! So in the wrong! This is egregious! You hear me? Egregious! [Points at a janitor] We were cellmates together, Andy! You got payback comin'! [To Ricky] Don't listen to these people, Ricky! You're a winner! If you ain't first, you're last!

[Reese jumps in his #13 Chevelle and speeds away; the children all cheer again.]

10 year old Ricky Bobby:
If you ain't first, you're last...

[Early in their careers, Cal and Ricky are pit crewmen; their driver quits during the race]

Glen:
It's not always bad to be in last place. Here's some things we can focus on: One, we tried hard. And two, we're still dear friends!

Lucius Washington:
Glenn, shut up. Listen, if we don't get that car back on the track, our sponsors are gonna sh*t a chicken. Now, is there anyone out there who wants to go fast?

Ricky Bobby:
[raising his hand] I wanna go fast!

Ricky Bobby:
How was school today, boys?

Walker Bobby:
I threw a bunch of Grandpa Chip's war medals off the bridge. [Chip is startled]

Ricky Bobby:
Sounds like a good day. How 'bout you, TR?

Texas Ranger Bobby:
Well, the teacher asked me what was the capitol of North Carolina. I said Washington D.C.

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
Bingo!

Ricky Bobby:
Nice.

Texas Ranger Bobby:
And she said 'No, you're wrong.' I said 'You got a lumpy butt!' She got mad at me and yelled at me, and I pissed in my pants. And I never did change my pee pants all day, I'm still sittin' in my dirty pee pants.

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
I wet my bed until I was nineteen. There's no shame in that.

[During the victory celebration after a race where Ricky beats Jamie McMurray by driving in reverse]

Lucius Washington:
I don't wanna rain on your parade, but that was some of the dumbest driving I have ever seen in my life.

Ricky Bobby:
Thank you.

Lucius Washington:
Now, I know you won the race, but you're not gonna live forever.

Ricky Bobby:
Oh, I'm not stupid, Lucius. No one lives forever. No one. But with advances in modern science, and my high level of income, I mean, it's not crazy to think I can't live to be 245, maybe 300. Heck, I just read in the newspaper that they put a pig heart in some guy from Russia. Do you know what that means?

Lucius Washington:
No, I don't know what that means. I guess, uh, longer life.

Ricky Bobby:
Well, no, he didn't live.

Lucius Washington:
Oh, he didn't live?

Ricky Bobby:
I mean, it's just exciting that we're tryin' things like that.

Ricky Bobby:
Dear Eight Pound, Six Ounce, Newborn Baby Jesus, in your golden, fleece diapers, with your curled-up, fat, balled-up little fists pawin' at the air...

Chip:
He was a man! He had a beard!

Ricky Bobby:
I like the baby version the best, do you hear me?! I win the races and I get the money! I work too hard for your bull, Chip.

Chip:
I can't hold my tongue. These kids are my grandchildren and you are raising them wrong. They are terrible boys!

Walker:
Shut up, Chip, or I'll go ape-sh*t on your ass!

Texas Ranger:
I'm gonna scissor-kick you in the back of the head!

Cal:
Yeah!

Ricky:
Yeah! Turn up the heat!

Cal:
Go on and get some, boys!

Ricky:
Come on!

Walker:
I'm ten years old, but I'll beat your ass!

Texas Ranger:
Chip, I'm gonna come at you like a spider monkey!

Ricky:
Chip, you brought this on, man.

Chip:
What is wrong with you?!

Texas Ranger:
Chip, I'm all jacked up on Mountain Dew!

[Ricky is passed out on the porch; Reese arouses him by throwing a bucket of water on him]

Reese Bobby:
Where'd stock-car racing come from?

Ricky Bobby:
What? [He gets doused again] Hey, stop doing that!"

Reese Bobby:
How'd stock-car racing get it's start?

Ricky Bobby:
Uh, bootleggers in Prohibition, they had to have cars fast enough to outrun the fed, then they started racing each other!

Reese Bobby:
[after a moment] That's right. [throws another bucket on Ricky]

Ricky Bobby:
If I was right, why'd you throw another bucket on me?!

Reese Bobby:
Well I filled up three. Now, there's nothing like driving to avoid jail. Nothing hones your mind and your instincts like necessity. So I taped a kilo of cocaine underneath the car and called the boys in blue. Now, the way I figure it, you got about 2 minutes before they show up, and you do five to ten. So, what's it gonna be? Fear...or prison? [Ricky looks at Reese, confused; sirens can be heard in the background]

Ricky Bobby:
What the hell are you talkin' about?!

Reese Bobby:
Real simple, son: Cops are comin'! There's a kilo of Colombian bam-bam underneath the car! Time to be a man! You got hair on your peaches or what?

Jean:
Hello, uh, "Reecky Booby". What happened last week was very regrettable and unfortunate, and...as a gesture, I would like to, um...sign your cast, please.

Ricky:
Aw, hell, you know what, get my car off the trailer, guys.

Carley:
Baby! That's my baby!

Lucius:
Whoa, hold on, Ricky, Ricky, Ricky, what are you talking about?

Ricky:
Look, I wanna drive, okay? My arm's fine, so, look, get the car off the trailer! Don't look at me, get it off the trailer!

Carley:
Go!

Larry Dennit:
Come on, Ricky, even with a healthy arm, you don't have a chance against Jean Girard.

Lucius:
Alright, fellas, you heard the man, get the car off the trailer.

[Girard steps over the railing and gets in Ricky's face]

Ricky:
What's going on?

Jean:
Soon you will know what it is like to be defeated by the hands of someone who is truly better than you. As William Blake wrote, "The cut worm forgives the plow."

Ricky:
Well, let me just quote the late, great, Colonel Sanders. He said, "I'm too drunk to taste this chicken."

Jean:
What has that got to do with this?

Cal:
I got a message for all of them, ready? Shake...and Bake!

Ricky:
What does that do, does that blow your mind? That just happened!

Jean:
What is that, is that a catchphrase or is it, uh, epilepsy?

Cal:
[whispering] Shake and Bake!

Jean:
What?

Cal:
[whispering] Shake and Bake!

Jean:
Listen, you better...be careful, because tomorrow you're going to get beaten. Beaten real bad, cowboy!

Ricky:
Really?

Jean:
Yes! And I wanna know--

Ricky:
That's news to me!

Jean:
I said I wanna know--

Jean:
Tomorrow you are going to get beaten--

Ricky:
I'll rip you a new one!

Jean:
There's going to be a croissant that I'm going to take away--

Ricky:
I-I play for keeps! I play for keeps!

Jean:
I give you one option, Monsieur "Booby". As a sign of humility, if you kiss me on the lips now, I will return to Paris and you will never see me again in NASCAR. I close my--

Ricky:
The answer is never! Do you hear me?

Jean:
I close my--

Ricky:
Never ever!

Jean:
Well, yes or no?

Ricky:
That's sick!

[Girard rubs his nose against Ricky's]

Cal:
[whispers in Girard's ear] Shake and Bake!

Ricky:
Yeah!

Jean:
What is that? It makes no sense! All this "Shake and Bake", it's nonsense!

Carley:
Hey, baby, you're so smooth.

Ricky:
Thanks, Carley. Cal, you could say that 10,000 times, and it still wouldn't be enough.

Cal:
It fires me up, man.

Ricky:
I love it, say it one more time.

Cal:
Shake and Bake!

Carley:
Woo!

Ricky:
Doesn't that feel good?

Cal:
Yeah! It rhymes, they're both verbs...it's awesome!

Walker:
Anarchy! Anarchy! Anarchy! Anarchy!

Texas Ranger:
I don't even know what that means, but I love it!

Walker:
Shut up in here, I'm tryin' to sleep!

Texas Ranger:
One of you turds is about to get smacked in the mouth!

Ricky Bobby:
[after Reese offers to help him go fast again] Fine. I'll do it. But I ain't callin' you Daddy.

Reese Bobby:
Well, what are you gonna call me then?

[Cuts to Ricky and Reese standing by Reese's car]

Ricky Bobby:
All right, Professor Dickweed, what's the plan?

Cal:
Hey, when you have the stereo and the T.V. on at the same time, how do you control the volume on the T.V.?

Ricky:
Why would you have the stereo and the T.V. on at the same time?

Cal:
'Cause I like to party.

Lucius Washington:
Now, Ricky, the doctor told us that we should let you work it out on your own sweet time, but...Ricky, you can walk.

Ricky Bobby:
What'd you just say?

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
He's tellin' you the truth, man. It's all in your head.

Ricky:
You sick...sons of b*tches! I mean, you walk in that door, on your two legs, all fat and cocky, and lookin' at me in my chair, and you tell me it's all in my head? I hope that both of you have sons! Handsome, beautiful, articulate sons, who are talented, and star athletes, and they have their legs taken away! I mean, I pray you know that pain and that hurt!

Lucius:
Don't you put that evil on me, Ricky Bobby!!! Don't you put that on us! You are NOT paralyzed!

Ricky:
I am SO paralyzed!

Lucius:
NO, NO, NO!

Cal:
Don't be rough on him, now.

Lucius:
No, he needs to know!

Cal:
Okay.

Lucius:
He's always cryin'!

Cal:
Alright, tough love it is, tough love. [to Ricky] Wake up, idiot!

Ricky:
[pulls out a knife] You wanna know what I am?! You wanna see what my life is?!

Lucius:
Don't do it!

Ricky:
You wanna see what's goin' on here?!

Cal:
Don't you stick that knife in your leg...

[Ricky does so, pauses for a moment, and then screams]

Chip:
Ricky, remember: The fieldmouse is fast, but the owl sees at night. [maniacal laughter]

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
That's kinda creepy, ain't it?

Dick Berggren:
Dick Berggren reporting from Las Vegas victory lane for FOX Television. Ricky, obviously a huge win for you today, but it seems as if you either win, or crash the car trying to win.

Ricky Bobby:
Well, Dick, here's the deal: I'm the best there is - plain and simple. I mean, I wake up in the morning and I piss excellence. You know, nobody can hang with my stuff. I'm just a--just a big, hairy, American winning machine. "If you ain't first, you're last!" You know? You know what I mean? That phrase is trademarked and not to be used without the expressed permission of Ricky Bobby, Inc.

[During the Lowe's Motor Speedway race]

Mike Joy:
Ricky Bobby, who never met a sponsor he wouldn't push, has a huge Fig Newtons sticker on his windshield!

Darrell Waltrip:
I think NASCAR'll black-flag him for that!

Mike Joy:
He sold the windshield!

Ricky Bobby:
This sticker is dangerous and inconvenient, but I do love Fig Newtons.

[After Ricky takes off in Reese's car, the police hot on his tail]

Walker:
Grandpa, how about you take us fishin' and tell us life lessons, and stories about your childhood?

Reese Bobby:
I got a better idea. How 'bout you boys go around back and dig a hole, and I'll go get another beer?

Texas Ranger:
Someone didn't love you enough when you were little, did they?

Reese Bobby':
That's a good call. [he hands Texas Ranger his beer] Here, that's worth a nickel.

Texas Ranger:
Tragic.

[Ricky is walking with Girard]

Ricky:
Holding hands with a man makes me terribly uncomfortable.

Jean:
It is a sign of friendship in many countries.

Ricky:
Yeah, well, not in ours.

Jean:
There is nothing sexual about it. Please don't be worried by the fact that I have an erection right now, it has nothing to do with you.

Ricky:
[pulls hand away, disgusted] Hey, come on! Look, here's the deal: I came here to tell you one thing, alright? Tomorrow, I'm comin' for you.

Jean:
Do you know why I came to America, "Reecky Booby"?

Ricky:
Public schools, health care systems, giant water parks, I mean, the same reason anyone comes to America.

Jean:
I came here for you to beat me.

Ricky:
What the hell are you talkin' about?

Jean:
My husband Gregory and I wish for only that which every other couple wishes for: to retire to Stockholm and design a currency for dogs and cats to use. But before I can do that...

Ricky:
That's dumb.

Jean:
It's not dumb!

Ricky:
That's just dumb.

Jean:
Why is it dumb?

Ricky:
I don't know.

Jean:
But before I can do that, I must be defeated by a driver who's truly better than me.

Ricky:
So you're gonna lose to me on purpose?

Jean:
No.

Ricky:
No?

Jean:
NO! I will battle you with the entirety of my heart, and you will probably lose, but maybe, juuuust maybe, you might challenge me. God needs the Devil. The Beatles needed The Rolling Stones. Even Diane Sawyer needed Katie Couric. Will you be my...Katie Couric?

Ricky:
Wow. [chuckles] I feel like I'm in Highlander.

Jean:
What is the Highlander?

Ricky:
It's a movie.

Jean:
Any good?

Ricky:
Very good. It won the Academy Award.

Jean:
Oh? For what?

Ricky:
For best movie ever made. Just want you to know, I came here today to tell you one thing: Come race time tomorrow, I'm comin' for you, all right?

Jean:
May God be with you.

Ricky:
Yeah.

Jean:
Because although today I am friendly...tomorrow...will be WAR!

Ricky:
All right...

Susan:
[telling Ricky why he should get back into racing] It's because it's what you love to do. It's who you were born to be. And here you sit--thinking! Well, Ricky Bobby is not a thinker. Ricky Bobby is a driver. He is a doer, and that's what you need to do. You don't need to think. You need to drive. You need speed. You need to go out there, and you need to rev your engine. You need to fire it up. You need to grab ahold of that line between speed and chaos, and you need to wrestle it to the ground like a demon cobra. And then, when the fear rises up in your belly, you use it. And you know that fear is powerful, because it has been there for billions of years! And it is good! And you use it! And you ride it; you ride it like a skeleton horse through the gates of hell, and then you win, Ricky! You WIN! And you don't win for anybody else. You win for you, you know why? Because a man takes what he wants. He takes it all. And you're a man, aren't you? Aren't you?!

Ricky:
Susan, I've never heard you talk like that... Are we about to get it on? Because I'm as hard as a diamond in an ice storm right now.

Susan:
Hi, I'm his lady, I'm Susan. I painted the car, I...we had sex.

Reese Bobby:
You did?

Susan & Ricky Bobby:
Yeah.

Reese Bobby:
Well, I wish I coulda been there for that.

Jean Girard:
Eh, everybody, this is my 'usband, Gregory. [Everyone gasps, and someone drops their beer]

Gregory:
[waves] See you at the track!

Cal:
Did he just say "husband"?

Herschell:
Sweet Lord! Dennit hired a gay Frenchman as your teammate!

Ricky Bobby:
The room's startin' to spin real fast... cause of... cause of the gayness. Cal, I love you. [Ricky faints]

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
Ricky? Ricky! Oh, God!

[The scene fades to black, then cuts to the middle of a SPEED Channel broadcast]

Bob Jenkins:
...But you know fans of NASCAR; the drivers; everybody is talking about this new driver Jean Girard. Let's find out a little more about him from our reporter Davey Wesling.

Davey Wesling:
Talented. Eccentric. Dominating. These are the words that define Jean Girard. [clips of Girard tending to his horses are shown] Before each race, Jean Girard spends time with his world-class horses, who are also gay. [changes to clips of Girard with Gregory] Jean's days are filled with sun-drenched walks with his beloved husband Gregory. [cuts to Gregory training six German Shepherds to balance on each other] Though Gregory is no stay-at-home spouse: He's a world-class trainer of German Shepherds! Only time will tell if Jean's foray into NASCAR will end up in victory lane. [The SPEED anchors are dumbstruck]

Texas Ranger Bobby:
[complaining about doing community service while picking up trash on the side of the highway] I gotta tell ya Granny, this blows!

Walker Bobby:
How much more of this?

Lucy Bobby:
Well I don't know. When are you boys going to stop tossing me the radio in the bathtub?

Ricky Bobby:
Dear Tiny, Infant, Jesus...

Carley Bobby:
Hey, um, sweetie...Jesus did grow up. You don't always have to call him baby. It's a bit odd and off-puttin' to pray to a baby.

Ricky Bobby:
Look, I like the Christmas Jesus best, and I'm sayin' grace. When you say grace, you can say it to Grownup Jesus or Teenage Jesus or Bearded Jesus or whoever you want.

[Ricky is trying to get back up to the track]

Ricky Bobby:
I'm really gonna open it up now! Woooo! I missed you, Mama Speed! Ricky Bobby's back!

Larry Dennit, Jr.:
Wait, h--how fast is he going?

Lucius Washington:
Uh, 26 miles an hour. [Cuts to Ricky's car limping down the inside lane as everyone else zips by on the outside]

Ricky Bobby:
What were those things? Were those the other cars?!

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
[as Ricky climbs into the racecar for the first time] Hey, man! Remember when we got kicked out of biology for playing with Matchbox cars?!

Ricky Bobby:
Yeah!

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
Who's retarded now?!

Ricky Bobby:
Yeah!

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
Hey, what are you doin' after this?

Ricky Bobby:
After the race?

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
Yeah!

Ricky Bobby:
I don't know, but it feels like we're wastin' a lot of time!

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
Aw, I know! I'm just excited! Hey! I love you!

Ricky Bobby:
What?

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
Nothin'! [Ricky and Cal bump fists] Get some! You're my best friend! You're my best friend!

Ricky Bobby:
I know! I gotta get goin'! [Cal secures the window netting and Ricky drives out]

Reese:
Look, all I got to my name is a car, and a duffel bag full of underwear and sweet, stinky weed.

Walker:
How much you sellin' that weed for, old man?

Susan:
How does one get thrown out of an Applebee's?

Ricky Bobby:
You're about to find out.

Mr. Dennit:
Ricky, your little obscene gesture is going to cost you 100 points. Do you know how much that costs us in sponsorship dollars?

Ricky:
With all due respect, Mr. Dennit, I had no idea you'd gotten experimental surgery to have your balls removed.

Mr. Dennit:
What did you just say to me?

Ricky:
What? I said it with all due respect!

Mr. Dennit:
Just because you say that doesn't mean you get to say whatever you want to say to me!

Ricky:
It sure as hell does!

Mr. Dennit:
No, it doesn't--

Ricky:
It's in the Geneva Conventions, look it up!

Ricky Bobby:
What do you care about me, or us- I mean, hell, you never even met your grandkids!

[Reese looks confused for a moment, squinting at Walker and Texas Ranger]

Texas Ranger:
What are you lookin at, Popeye?

Reese Bobby:
You shut up, you little potlicker, I'll put you in a microwave. Now, you show me the DNA tests, and maybe I'll say hello to these little swamp rats.

Frank:
[Yelling across the street] Will you people shut the hell up?! I got a wife in an oxygen tent; we're tryin' to sleep!

Reese Bobby:
You better shut up, Frank, or I'll come over there and rip a hole in that tent!

Lucy Bobby:
Yeah, shut up, Frank!

Walker:
Go shave your balls, you dusty old fart!

Reese Bobby:
[Impressed] Okay. Guess they are my grandkids.

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
[talking to his crew chief over the radio] Hey, Jarvis?

Jarvis:
Yeah, Cal?

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
If you slept with your best friend's wife, why would he apologize to you?

Jarvis:
Yeah, I don't know, Cal. That's weird.

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
That's what I'm sayin'! My head's all tied up like...a pretzel! I got a pretzel in my head!

[During Ricky's comeback race, Ricky is passing to Cal's inside - though Cal cannot see him because of the window net]

Jarvis:
Cal, you should probably pay attention. I think he's passing you.

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
Is Ricky passing me in my subconscious?

Jarvis:
No, he's actually passin' you! That's happenin' right now!

Bill Weber:
Ricky Bobby in the #62 car is on the move. He's sliding from 26th place to 18th place. Now let's go to John Hannafin, who's in the stands with a country music legend. [Cuts to Hannafin in the stands]

John Hannafin:
Thank you, Sean. I'm here with one of the greatest country music stars of all-time, Kenny Rogers. Kenny, what do you think of the race so far?

Kenny Rogers:
[obviously not Kenny Rogers] It's great. They're going really fast.

Bill Weber:
John, that's not Kenny Rogers.

John Hannafin:
In the song "The Gambler", you sang "You gotta know when to walk away and know when to run." Should Ricky Bobby have stayed away from racing?

"Kenny Rogers":
Mr. Bobby's very competitive. If he wants to race, he should race.

John Hannafin:
Well, this is John Hannafin with Kenny Rogers. And now back to you, Bill.

Bill Weber:
Well, that, of course, was not Kenny Rogers.

Benny Parsons:
Not even close!

Cal:
Shake and Bake?

Ricky:
No. Never again.

Cal:
You're right. I was a total dick, man.

Ricky:
From now on, [points to Cal] it's Magic Man...[points to himself] and El Diablo.

Cal:
Wh--What's Diablo mean?

Ricky:
It's, like, Spanish for, like, a fighting chicken.

Cal:
That's awesome! With the claws?

Ricky:
Yeah, with the claws. With the claws and a beak!

Cal:
How'd you come up with that, man?

Ricky:
Just--sometimes, things click.

Jean:
Monsieur "Booby", by defeating me today, you have set me free. And for that, I thank you. [He offers his hand to Ricky]

Ricky:
[shoving Girard's hand away] I will never shake your hand. Ever. But I will give you this...[he passionately kisses Girard]

Jean:
Sir...you taste...of America.

Ricky:
Thank you. [Girard leans in for another kiss] Noooo...once was good. Once was good.

Texas Ranger:
Well, if it isn't our old mangy, transient grandfather.

Reese Bobby:
Well said, grandson. I'll take that as a compliment.

Ricky:
Hi, I'm Ricky Bobby.

Cal:
And I'm Cal Naughton, Jr.

Ricky:
We're here to tell you about snow blindness in cats. It's affecting more and more cats each year, and it scares the livin' sh*t out of us.

Reese:
[as Ricky is attacked by a cougar] Ricky, control your heart rate!

Ricky:
I can't control my heart rate, I got a cougar on me!

Ricky:
You can't have two number ones.

Cal:
Yeah... you can't, that makes eleven.

Jean:
Do you know why I came to America, "Reecky Booby"?

Ricky:
To have a chalupa and marvel at the wisdom of George W. Bush; I mean, the same reason anyone comes to America.

[The unrated version of Girard's introduction]

Jean Girard:
Why did you stop ze jazz music? Was it unpleasant to you?

Ricky Bobby:
No one plays jazz here at The Pit Stop!

Jean Girard:
So then why is the song on the jukebox?

Bartender:
We keep it on there for profiling purposes. We also got the Pet Shop Boys and Seal. [Girard advances on Ricky]

Jean Girard:
My name is Jean Girard, and I am a racing-car driver, just like you, except I am from Formula Un. I am the greatest one in the whole world. I have been following your career with great interest, Monsieur "Booby".

Ricky Bobby:
I can't understand a word you've said the whole time.

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
Did you eat some peanut butter or something?

Ricky Bobby:
Yeah, you sound like a dog with peanut butter on the roof of your mouth.

Jean Girard:
I think what you are 'earing is my accent. I am, uh...French.

Ricky Bobby:
You say you're French?

Jean Girard:
Oui. [This comes out sounding like "we"]

Ricky Bobby:
"We?" No, we are not French. We're American, because you're in America, okay? Greatest country on the planet.

Jean Girard:
Well, what have you given the world apart from, uh, George Bush, Cheerios, and the Thighmaster?

Ricky Bobby:
Chinese food?

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
Chinese food.

Jean Girard:
That's from China.

Ricky Bobby:
Pizza.

Jean Girard:
Italy.

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
Chimichanga.

Jean Girard:
Mexican.

Ricky Bobby:
Really, smarty-pants? What did French land give us?

Jean Girard:
We invented democracy, existentialism... and the blowj*b.

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
Those are three pretty good things.

Ricky Bobby:
Hey.

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
Hey, that last one's pretty cool.

Jean Girard:
And ze soixante-neuf. You know, the 69? With the head near the...[jerks head to the right] that bit? We came up with it.

Herschell:
We created the missionary position. You're welcome.

Jean Girard:
"Reecky Booby", I have come 'ere to defeat you.

Ricky Bobby:
Oh, well, there's strikes two and three right there! [Ricky and Cal laugh] Well, welcome to America, amigo! [He swings at Girard, but Girard slaps him twice, and forces him onto the billiard table, holding his hand in an arm lock]

Jean Girard:
You are fast, "Reecky Booby"...but I am faster.

Ricky Bobby:
You let go of me, you Formula One jazz nutjob!

Jean Girard:
Like the frightened baby chipmunk, you are scared by anything that is different. I will let you go, Ricky. But first, I want you to say..."I... love... crepes."

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
Don't you say it, Ricky. These colors don't run.

Ricky Bobby:
I'm not gonna say it.

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
Good.

Ricky Bobby:
Hey, look, Frenchy, I thought about it. So why don't you go ahead and break my arm?

Jean Girard:
I do not want to break your arm, Monsieur Bobby, but I am a man of my word.

Ricky Bobby:
Here's the deal. He's not gonna break it because I'm gonna slip out of it right now. Houdini! [He makes a futile attempt to rescue his arm]

Jean Girard:
Whoa! Get down, you little pancake.

Ricky Bobby:
Someone might as well get me a beer while I'm down here.

Jean Girard:
But you have forced me to do this. You are now mocking me and making me look ridiculous. Just say, "I love crepes."

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
You know, just to put this in there...I had a whole mess of crepes this mornin'. They're just like pancakes, maybe even better.

Ricky Bobby:
Wait, are they the really thin pancakes?

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
Yeah.

Jean Girard:
Yes they are. They are the really thin pancakes. It's just a French word for them.

Ricky Bobby:
Oh, my god, I love those!

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
Put all the kinds of syrup you want on them. I'm just sayin', think about it.

Ricky Bobby:
They come with cheese sometimes?

Jean Girard:
Yes, of course, a fromage-crepe.

Ricky Bobby:
Well, why didn't someone yell that right--right away?

Jean Girard:
Do you know what's in the crepe suzette?

Ricky Bobby:
Oh, I love the crepe suzette.

Jean Girard:
With the sugar and lemon juice...

Ricky Bobby:
Yeah, the sugar and the lemon juice. Sure.

Jean Girard:
Grand Marnier.

Ricky Bobby:
I wo - I wish I could crawl into one of those right now. I'd eat my way out from the inside!

Jean Girard:
They are tasty.

Kyle:
Either way this goes down, can we go get some after we're done?

Ricky Bobby:
Absolutely, we're gonna do it.

Jean Girard:
Bon. So, what if you just said: "I love really thin pancakes"? That is a fair compromise, no?

Kyle:
That is a fair compromise.

Herschell:
Very fair, actually.

Ricky Bobby:
No! Because then everyone would know I really meant crêpes!

Kyle:
That's actually a pretty good compromise right there.

Jean Girard:
Why do you want me to break your arm so badly?

Ricky Bobby:
You don't understand. You don't understand because you don't understand liberty. You don't understand freedom. So you put a crack in my arm like the crack in the Liberty Bell! You hear me?

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
[leans down to talk to Ricky in a low voice] Hey. This is just between you and me, okay? I mean, forget all these other guys. But...he did give you a pretty decent out. But it's your call.

Ricky Bobby:
[whispering] What do you think?

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
Don't say it.

Ricky Bobby:
Yeah. I'm not gonna say it. Nope. Break it, Pepé Le Pew!

Jean Girard:
As you wish.

[He breaks Ricky's arm]

Ricky Bobby:
He actually did it!

Kyle:
Back off!

Ricky Bobby:
I didn't say it!

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
No, you did not!

Jean Girard:
Your injury is one of ignorance and pride! Au revoir!

[One of Ricky's commercials]

Ricky Bobby:
This is Ricky Bobby.

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
And I'm Cal Naughton, Jr.

Ricky Bobby:
Urging you never to travel to Tijuana.

Ricky:
Hey. I lost my license. That's why I'm on the bus. I'm delivering pizzas.

Man on bus:
MOTHERF***ER, what makes you think I care? SHUT THE F*** UP!!

Ricky:
I was just telling 'cause-- Like I said, I lost my license. I've been having a lot of problems lately.

Man on bus:
Problems? I don't wanna hear about your damn problems. Everybody got problems! My mama got problems. She just lost her leg. My cousin Pookie just lost a testicle. My dog just threw up somebody's finger. That's a problem!

Ricky:
I really regret opening my mouth and talking to you.

Ricky:
I get emotional. You guys are workin' so hard, and I'm just so proud of you. You remind me of me, precocious and full of wonderment.

Cal:
I tell you what, Ricky, you are truly blessed. These two are two in a million, just like Carley's ta-tas. You won't find another rack like that, I guarantee it.

Carley:
Thank you, Cal.

Walker:
That's real sweet of you, Cal.

Ricky:
Cal, that's a real nice sentiment. That's about one of the nicest things you ever said.

Cal:
Well, I mean it.

Carley:
Stop it, gonna make me cry.

Cal:
It comes from the heart.

The story of a man who could only count to #1.

No One Can Handle The Curves, The Speed, The Heat, Like Ricky Bobby.

You don't have to be quick to be fast.

If you ain't first, you're last!

Jean Girard:
[After breaking Ricky's arm] Your injury is one of ignorance and pride. Au revoir!

Cal:
Now you just hold it right there Mr. Fancypants Foreigner, you just broke my bro's arm, now you're about to get tasered. [Takes out a taser; Jean grabs a pool stick and prepares to fight] Say hello to Dr. Watts!

Ricky Bobby:
Get him Cal.

Walker Bobby:
shut up, chip, or I'll go ape-sh*t on your ass!

From Deleted Scenes:
[eating at Applebee's] It's Applebee-riffic!