The Cannonball Run

Fenderbaum:
We've got a secret weapon. God is our co-pilot!

The Greek:
You'll need him!

Jamie Blake:
*God* is our copilot?

Fenderbaum:
Uh huh...

Jamie Blake:
Remember our car?

Fenderbaum:
Uh huh...

Jamie Blake:
Two seats?

Fenderbaum:
Two seats...

Jamie Blake:
Where's he gonna sit? [smack] Where's he gonna sit? [smack]

Fenderbaum:
Why'd he call me Shorty?

Jamie Blake:
'Cause you're small. Small. S - M - all.

The Sheik:
My driving is rivaled only by the lightning bolts from the heavens! [thunder crashes]

Sheik's Sister:
So you still intend to enter the race with the infidel Americans?

The Sheik:
The Cannonball will fall to the forces of Islam! [thunder crashes] My dear sister! I swear it!

California Highway Patrolman:
Headquarters, we are still in pursuit of the black Lamborghini.

Dispatcher:
Car 42, you've been in pursuit for two hours. Another five minutes and you'll be in Arizona.

California Highway Patrolman:
Yeah, and we're going to stay in pursuit until we catch them.

Dispatcher:
It didn't take us THAT long to catch Dillinger.

J.J. McClure:
Look, we can't have a car with numbers on it. So, we're going to have to disguise the car somehow.

Victor Prinsi:
Alright.

J.J. McClure:
How about a big, black limousine with diplomatic plates?

Victor Prinsi:
Nah!

J.J. McClure:
Nah. I know, a bloodmobile. They wouldn't stop a bloodmobile, would they?

Victor Prinsi:
Nah!

J.J. McClure:
Nah.

Victor Prinsi:
An ice cream truck! Yeah, an ice cream truck! Y'know, they gotta get there before it melts!

Organizer:
You are certainly the most distinguished group of highway scofflaws and degenerates ever gathered together in one place

Seymour Goldfarb Jr:
Maybe next year, we'll do this again.

Organizer:
Of course you know certain sceptics note that perhaps 10,000 of the nations's most elite highway patrolmen are out there waiting for us after we start, but let's stay positively: Think of the fact that there's not one state in the 50 that has the death penalty for speeding... although I'm not so sure about Ohio.

Mel:
How long before we stop?

Terry:
Eight hours!

Mel:
Da-D-Damn! I gotta go to the john!

J.J. McClure:
Excuse me. Excuse me. Hey, Mad Dog!

Mad Dog:
Hey, J.J!

J.J. McClure:
Look, you probably didn't realize this, but the parking lot's outside.

Mad Dog:
I know. The brakes went out.

J.J. McClure:
Who do you think you are? The president?

Mad Dog:
[imitating Richard Nixon] Well, let me make one thing perfectly clear, we feel terrible about it. Now, if they can't take a joke, [gives the up yours arm gesture sans finger]

[Brad drives through the bar on his motorcycle]

Fenderbaum:
What in the hell was that?

Jamie Blake:
Oh, that must've been the entry of the National Safety Council.

Batman:
Mad Dog, you ARE going to take the shortcut to the Interstate, aren't you?

Mad Dog:
We're here to win, ain't we? If you're gonna be a bear, BE A GRIZZLY!

Both:
ARRR!

Shaky Finch:
Come on! 1000 miles on one wheel? We're trying to win a race, not set a record!

The Greek:
Jamie Blake! Yeah, you used to drive that Formula One. When high-buttoned shoes were in style!

J.J. McClure:
what about a black trans-am? No, that's been done!

Mad Dog:
Hey, you the one running this fleabag?

Desk Clerk:
Huh?

Mad Dog:
Where the hookers?

Desk Clerk:
What?

Mad Dog:
Hookers, man! Where the hookers?

J.J. McClure:
What's Dr. Gay do?

Victor Prinsi:
He's my shrink. He was committed yesterday.

J.J. McClure:
Why?

Victor Prinsi:
He was smoking bananas. He gets very upset when he talks to 'Him'.

J.J. McClure:
So do I!

Mr. Foyt:
Terrorists my dimpled ass! These people make terrorists look like the Sisters of Charity! These guys are Cannonballers!

Pamela Glover:
What is that? A bowling team?

Bradford Compton:
Shakey, it's kinda tough to get close to you. Last time I saw you, you were a bit more svelte.

Shaky Finch:
Yeah, well what can I tell you? In the pizza business, when things are slow you tend to eat the inventory.

Bradford Compton:
Yeah, but listen, Shakey, that's not good for the Cannonball. You know that! I mean, you don't need a motorcycle, you need the Super Chief!

Shaky Finch:
But even with the extra tonnage, I'm still the best there is!

Organizer:
I'd like to welcome you all to an event that's sometimes been called the Automotive counterpart to the Bay of Pigs.

Fenderbaum:
Isn't that J.J. McClure?

Jamie Blake:
He's nothing. Don't worry about him. It's the Blimp next to him! The Blimp! When he puts on that mask, he'll blow your goddamn doors off!

Mr. Foyt:
Well, how do you all feel now you have raped the American highways?

J.J. McClure:
Beautiful!

Jamie Blake:
That's a good-looking piece! and cunningly disguised so it won't look like a racing car, you know. The cops would never give that a second glance!

Jill Rivers:
220 miles an hour and they aren't gonna get a second glance!

J.J. McClure:
Thanks to you, Victor, we do not have a female patient in the back. Thanks to your wonderful cousin Tessie.

Victor Prinsi:
Well, it's not my fault that she didn't fit in the stretcher!

J.J. McClure:
She doesn't fit in the AMBULANCE!

[after jumping a moving train]

Mad Dog:
Evel Knievel, you've got yourself some competition!

J.J. McClure:
I'm sure that doctor's a very sweet man, basically.

Victor Prinsi:
Oh, thank you.

J.J. McClure:
But don't you ever tell me where you found him. Ever.

[Seymour pulls up to the starting line with his lights off]

Seymour Goldfarb Jr:
Would you mind?

[the official punches his time card and gives it to him]

Seymour Goldfarb Jr:
Thank you.

Organizer:
Might be easier with your lights on.

Seymour Goldfarb Jr:
Why advertise?

[J.J. and Victor are pulled over by two priests in a red Ferrari]

Victor Prinsi:
Nice car, Father!

Jamie Blake:
Thank you, a**hole.

[J.J. is pissed that Captain Chaos has disappeared]

J.J. McClure:
When you don't want him he's around! When you want him he's not around! I'm gonna go get a beer!

Captain Chaos:
DA-DA-DUM!

[JJ has "tackled" all the other contestants at the end]

Seymour Goldfarb Jr:
Well, I must say, that's not a very sporting way to win.

Jamie Blake:
No, it was a shitty way to win!

[finding the men's room locked, Van Helsing follows Pamela into the women's room]

Pamela Glover:
Wait a minute, you can't come in here.

Doctor Nikolas Van Helsing:
Madam, not to be indelicate but in my profession; if you've seen one, you've see them all.

Pamela Glover:
Oh, okay.

Mel:
I can't see sh*t, can you?

Terry:
No problem, son, no problem...

Gas Station Attendant:
7-11, how can I help you?

J.J. McClure:
Pumps one and two, hit 'em!

Gas Station Attendant:
What are you, some kind of nut? You've got one unleaded there and one premium!

J.J. McClure:
She goes both ways. The round orange moon pie with the white hat on, he'll pay for it.

Fenderbaum:
[a cop stops Blake and Fenderbaum] [shouts] J.J., you son of a?

Mad Dog:
[Batman tries to beat up a biker] Hold it! You'll never last five minutes in a New York Subway

Mad Dog:
[Mad Dog whacks the biker across the knee with a board and then on the back, knocking him down] Now *that?s* the way it's done!

Cop:
[J.J. avoids a roadblock and wrecks the Porsche] What are you, some kind of nut? Who do you think you are?

Victor Prinsi:
Da-dum-duuummmm! I, am Captain Chaos! And this, this is my faithful companion, Cato... Say hello, Cato!

Victor Prinsi:
[cop looks in disgust] Been a cop long?

Sheik's Assistant:
I wonder why that guy parked his truck in the lobby?

The Sheik:
Only in America! Get me 12 suites, better yet, the entire floor! [Walks off, patting another assistant on the rear] Ah, too much couscous!

Female Cop Pulling Over Lamborghini Babes:
[to driver of Lamborghini, referring to her cleavage] Well, hello there, Hotpants! Now, you wouldn't happen to have a drivers license tucked down in there, would you?

Victor Prinsi:
[after J.J. tells him to find a doctor to ride with them in the ambulance] Where do doctors hang out?

J.J. McClure:
I don't know! Pubs... golf courses!

Victor Prinsi:
Hospitals?

J.J. McClure:
Yeah- check those too.

Bradford Compton:
Bradford Compton, perhaps you've heard of me, I'm on Wall Street.

Chief Biker:
We don't ride on Wall Street.

Biker:
[cutting off Compton's necktie] Yeah, we don't ride on Wall Street!

Fenderbaum:
[Fenderbaum and Blake's Ferrari drives alongside J.J.'s ambulance] Pull over! We want to give you our blessing!

Victor Prinsi:
J.J., there are two priests in that car. They want us to pull over.

J.J. McClure:
Victor, that's two priests driving a Ferrari. When's the last time you saw two priests drive a Ferrari? What are they doing, taking home the bingo money?

Victor Prinsi:
No, they're doing the work of the Lord. In a Ferrari, they can just do it faster.

Victor Prinsi:
Thank you, Father.

Fenderbaum:
Why don't you take that piece of sh*t back to the junkyard? [laughs and drives away]

J.J. McClure:
Hey, Victor, didja get anything to eat?

Victor Prinsi:
Yeah, I gotta lotta goodies for you guys and a Big Gulp Dr Pepper for me! [singing and dancing] "I'm a peppa/You're a peppa/He's a peppa/She's a peppa/Wouldn't ya like to be a peppa too?

J.J. McClure:
[impatiently] WILL YOU GET IN HERE?

Jamie Blake:
If we were Methodists we'd have a good shot at gettin' laid

J.J. McClure:
You all right, Victor?

Victor Prinsi:
Oh, I'm fine, J.J. It only hurts when I point.

Pamela Glover:
Are you one of those volleyballers?

J.J. McClure:
Cannonballers. No.

Fenderbaum:
[noticing Blake acting oddly at bar] What is it?

Jamie Blake:
Look at the chicks! Boy, if we were Methodists, what a shot we could have had of getting laid right here. [guy at bar overhearing spits his drink out]

Pamela Glover:
I can't believe this is happening to me. This is not a joke any more. I'm being kidnapped.

J.J. McClure:
Well, you can call it kidnapping if you want to be rude.

Jamie Blake:
I just want to thank you for informin' them about us back in Missouri. You know, how we're flashers and sex maniacs.

J.J. McClure:
Well, I was just repayin' you for what you and the chocolate monk did back in Ohio.

Fenderbaum:
Chocolate Monk?

Jamie Blake:
He can say that. Yeah, he can say that, cause he's ridin' around with the "Good Year" blimp!

J.J. McClure:
[Looking at Vic] He can say that. He can say that cause if I had the time, I'd take those rosary beads and shove em up your nose.

Jamie Blake:
These rosary beads? Up this nose?

J.J. McClure:
Yeah.

Jamie Blake:
Will ya take a little advice? Bring friends.

Fenderbaum:
Ha! Lots of em.

Doctor Nikolas Van Helsing:
I'm Nikolas Van Helsing, professor of proctology and other related tendencies. A graduate of the University of Rangoon. And assorted night classes at the Knoxville Tennessee school of faith healing.

J.J. McClure:
You may be a little over qualified for this job.

[during the brawl with the mean bikers, Seymour Goldfarb Jr stands aside with his girlfriend, until one of the bikers menacingly approaches them, holding heavy wrench]

Seymour Goldfarb Jr:
[to his girlfriend] Step back, my dear.

[the girl steps back. Seymour makes karate moves, with the music of James Bond movies is played in the background]

Seymour Goldfarb Jr:
[to the biker] I must warn you, I'm Roger Moore!

Biker:
[frowns] Who?

Seymour Goldfarb Jr:
[bends forward so the biker can hear him better] Roger Moore!

[the biker, unimpressed, punches Seymour in the mouth. Seymour groans in pain, covers his mouth, then helplessly slumps to the ground]

Jackie Chan, Subaru Driver:
[the duo is driving at night with the headlights off, to avoid detection] This infrared is the cat's ass.

J.J. McClure:
They weren't 'Fathers'...

J.J. McClure, Victor Prinsi:
...They were 'mothers'!

[Seymour arrives at the motel in his 1963 Aston Martin DB5 with one of his girlfriends under his Roger Moore persona]

Seymour Goldfarb Jr:
Good day. I am here to participate in your little jaunt to California.

Female Race Official:
Well, of course. If you would sign in here, please.

[Seymour signs under the legendary actor Roger Moore's name]

Boy with Camera:
[taking a picture of his little brother] Hold still, Pettie. Say "Cheese".

Seymour Goldfarb Jr:
I realize the novelty of a major celebrity entering your little race, but kindly resist the temptation and keep the media coverage to a minimum. Thank you.

[Brock Yates, the organizer of the Cannonball Run, addresses the huge crowd of racers outside the starting line]

Organizer:
Okay, I'd like to welcome you all to an event that sometimes been called the automotive counterpart to the Bay of Pigs. [crowd chuckle] You all are certainly the most distinguished group of highway scofflaws and degenerates ever gathered in one place, and we gonna have a lot of fun. Of course, you know certain skeptics note that perhaps 10,000 of the nation's most elite Highway patrolmen are out waiting for us after we start, but let's think positively. Think of the fact that there is not one state in the 50 that has the death penalty for speeding, although I'm not so sure about Ohio. [crowd laughs as rock shows a time card] Everybody is gonna get a card like this. When you leave, you're gonna punch out hereat this time clock. 3,000 miles roughly away from here is another time clock just like that at the Portofino Inn. And the difference between the two times is your time across the country. The record stand at 32 hours and 51 minutes, and, believe it or not, those guys did break the 55 mile-an-hour speed limit. [crowd and racers cheering] Okay, let's get that first car up here, and we're gonna get this thing underway!

[At the Portofino Inn, Victor, in his Captain Chaos persona, saves a woman's dog from drowning in the bay and is hailed a hero, but J.J. is furious, as his selfless act cost him and J.J. the championship win]

Victor Prinsi:
[as Captain Chaos] J.J., I've saved that woman's dog.

J.J. McClure:
[furious] Victor... we could've won that race. Do ya understand what I'm telling you? We could've won it!

Doctor Nikolas Van Helsing:
You understand that? You had to go and pull that stupid stunt.

Pamela Glover:
He's right, Victor.

J.J. McClure:
We are sick of Captain Chaos. We are so sick of Captain Chaos that we could throw up. So you know what, Victor? There's not gonna be anymore Captain Chaos. [grabs and rip off the mask from Victor's head; yells] NO MORE! Ya see what I'm telling you? NO MORE! [snatches Victor cape and slams it on the ground] No more Captain Chaos EVER! Now what do ya think of that?

[crowd laughs as Victor seemingly feels broken-hearten over J.J. act of poor sportsmanship]

Victor Prinsi:
I don't care, because... [changes into a new superhero persona with a American flag-like mask and cape] I've always wanted be... Captain USA! Da-Da-DUM! [J.J. and the racer laughs] It's a dirty job, but somebody go to do it.

[the racers, all neck and neck, are approaching the finish line, with Mad Dog and Batman in the lead]

Mad Dog:
We got 'em.

Batman:
We got 'em!

[Suddenly a car come in the way, forcing Mad Dog & Batman's GMC truck to do a 180 stop. Bradford and Shakey's motorcycle slips and skids]

J.J. McClure:
[screams] LOOK OUT!

[J.J. and Victor's ambulance van and all the other cars come to screeching halt]

J.J. McClure:
[yells] Okay, it's a foot race!

Doctor Nikolas Van Helsing:
I've got the card.

J.J. McClure:
No, gimmie that, Doc! Come on, it's a foot race!

[All the racers storm out and begin running to the finish line to see who can be the first to punch at the clock and win the race]

Victor Prinsi:
Have no fear! Chaos is here! DA-DA-DUM!

J.J. McClure:
[hands Victor the time card] Take it and win, Captain!

Pamela Glover:
Come on, Chaos! You can do it!

[as Victor and Marcie sprints, J.J. jumps on the other racers, tackling them down]

Doctor Nikolas Van Helsing:
Does anyone need medical attention?

Seymour Goldfarb Jr:
[At the Goldfarb compound, Seymour greets his mother] Mother... I've trust you had a pleasant day.

Mom Goldfarb:
A nightmare. A living nightmare. You are killing me, Seymour. Killing me a slow death with this idiot spy business.

Seymour Goldfarb Jr:
Mother, you don't understand.

Mom Goldfarb:
Oh, what is there to understand? I'm looking at my son, Seymour Goldfarb, Jr., son of Seymour Goldfarb, God rest his soul, and heir to the Goldfarb Girdles fortune. And what is he doing? Walking around, acting like he was some goy movie star named Roger Moore. And for this I sent you to the best schools? For this I'm spending eight thousand on orthodonture work? For this I'm going broke paying that Beverly Hills analyst? And now, ha ha... [lifts the napkin, revealing Seymour's Walther PPK pistol]... this. The sleep-in maid found it under your pillow this morning. What is the meaning of this?

Seymour Goldfarb Jr:
[icy as he grabs the gun] The meaning, mother dear, is a quick death. I've warned you not to interfere in my affairs.

Mom Goldfarb:
[unconvinced; pushes the gun away] Seymour, put that thing away. It's liable to go off.

Seymour Goldfarb Jr:
I'm terribly sorry, mother, but you know too much. You see, in my business, even the deepest family relationships aren't worth a farthing.

Mom Goldfarb:
[still unconvinced] Farthing, smarthing.

[Seymour pulls the slide back and forth, then holds his mother at gunpoint]

Mom Goldfarb:
[shocked] No!

Seymour Goldfarb Jr:
Zie gezundt, mama.

[Seymour pulls the trigger, only to shoot out a flag that says "Bang!", thus revealing to be a fake gun, to his amusement; laughs]

Mom Goldfarb:
[frustrated] Oy! Where did I go wrong?

Seymour Goldfarb Jr:
You know something, mama? You're too Jewish.