The Cannonball Run

- (Engine roars) - (Police siren)

- (Horn toots) - (Giggling)

Headquarters, we are still in pursuit of the black Lamborghini.

Car 42, you've been in pursuit for two hours.

Another five minutes and you'll be in Arizona.

Yeah, and we're gonna stay in pursuit until we catch him.

It didn't take us that long to catch Dillinger.

Hi, guys. JJ?

- JJ? - (Man) Victor!

Ooh! Um...

- You're two hours late. - I'm... I'm-I'm sorry.

- Where the hell you been? - Oh...

I'm sorry.

The fuel-injection system. It's driving me crazy.

I'm really sorry I'm late, but one of my hamsters had an anxiety attack.

I couldn't leave him till he was settled down.

He was acting so crazy, he ate a piece of tail,

and Henrietta wasn't even bothering him.

Then he ate his treadmill. Whoo!

They got vets for that. We got other things to worry about.

Hamsters are a big responsibility.

Let me paint you a mental picture, all right, Victor?

I want you to think of your hamsters as a little army

marching along on a treadmill,

running their little legs off, just running as fast as they can,

making that engine just purr right along the road.

Oh, JJ. What a wonderful way to put it.

Hm!

Wouldn't it be great if we could share the glory of winning the Cannonball with them?

That would be a real team effort. You, me, the hamsters and...him.

- (Thud) - (Spring boings)

Don't start with him. I don't want to talk about him.

- If you need any help... - Damn it, I don't want to talk about him!

OK.

Sir James!

Oh, my God. You again?

Fenderbaum, do me a favor.

You're drawing flies. Get the hell out of here.

No. Wait a minute, Greek. Only thing I want to know is,

how are you figuring the odds on this Cannonball cockamamie?

It takes brilliance and years of hard work.

And you wouldn't understand any part of that.

Do me a favor. A race is a race, right?

The only thing you gotta do in the Cannonball is drive steady,

stay out of trouble and have a good cover.

3,000 miles, averaging 85 miles an hour.

Do you know what that is?

You want to talk or do you want a bet?

Anti-radar paint, turbo-charged. JJ, nobody can stop us now. (Chuckles)

Nobody.

What are you, some kind of nut? Who do you think you are?

Dun-dun-dah!

I am Captain Chaos.

And this - this is my faithful companion, Cato.

Say hello, Cato.

Been a cop long?

That's funny.

- You wanna talk or you wanna bet? - You've got 50-1 .

And you know what you got? You got yourself a bet.

Twenty big, large ones.

That's a million dollars. Ha-ha! If you win.

I don't know if you know my partner. Jamie, you remember Jimmy the Greek.

- Hmmm! - (Greek) Ha! Jamie Blake.

You used to drive that Formula One.

When high-buttoned shoes were in style.

Let me tell you something, Greek. We got a secret weapon.

God is our copilot.

You'll need him.

- God is our copilot? - Mm-hm.

Remember our car?

- Yeah. - Two seats.

Two seats.

Where's he gonna sit?

Where?

Listen to me, el Porko.

We're not in the Indianapolis 500.

We can't have a car with numbers on it.

- We have to camouflage the car somehow. - (Victor) Like what, JJ?

How about a limousine with diplomatic plates?

- Nah. - No.

I know. A bloodmobile.

- Never stop a bloodmobile, would they? - Nah.

Ice-cream truck. An ice-cream truck. You know, they got to get there before it melts.

Nah.

Terrific. We're out of beer, Victor.

Sorry.

Take it easy! You're acting crazy since this Cannonball thing.

I'm gonna pull in here and get some beer, all right?

How about an armored personnel carrier? They wouldn't stop that, would they?

Hey, don't bother to park! I'll be right out. (Hums tune)

Thank you.

We could get a black Trans Am. No, that's been done.

Hello, Mother. I trust you had a pleasant day.

A nightmare. A living nightmare. You are killing me, Seymour.

Killing me a slow death with this idiot spy business.

- Mother, you don't understand. - 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 8,000 on orthodontia work?

For this I'm going broke, paying that Beverly Hills analyst?

And now... Ha-ha!

The sleep-in maid found it under your pillow this morning.

What is the meaning of this?

The meaning, Mother dear, is a quick death.

I warned you not to interfere in my affairs.

Seymour, put that away. It's liable to go off.

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.

Farthing, schmarthing.

- No. - Zei gezunt, Mama.

- Oy! Where did I go wrong? - (Seymour laughs)

You know something, Mama? You're too Jewish.

We could always go with a nice, plain-Jane Chevy,

with a truckload of Sidewinder missiles!

Maybe you should slow this down just a little bit!

- I can't hear you! - I said, you're making waves!

You're bothering the people!

What the hell has going too fast got to do with being in the Cannonball?

JJ, you're making very big waves!

- Hi. How are ya? - (Yelling)

Aaargh!

- (Crashing) - (Siren blares)

You guys are lucky. You tore the heck out of that boat.

- You all right, Victor? - Oh, I'm fine, JJ.

It only hurts when I point.

You know, maybe it would've been better,

if you didn't pay so much attention to those girls.

- Nobody's perfect. - That's true.

Nobody's perfect, but him.

Sorry.

How far is it to the hospital?

- About ten miles. - Oh, yeah?

- How long will it take us to get there? - About four or five minutes.

You can smoke through traffic like shot through a gun in this thing.

Argh!

Jackie Chan.

Here's Johnny!

Jackie Chan. (Mimics engine revving)

Godzilla movie. (Chuckles)

Michael Hui.

Excuse me.

Camel.

Not the Camel, schmuck. Winston.

Ah!

Starting tomorrow, you and George will be riding in the car with me.

Yes, sir.

How goes your driving, my brother?

Allah be praised, dear sister.

My speed is rivaled only by the lightning bolts from the heavens!

And I suppose you still intend to go through that race with the infidel Americans.

- The Cannonball will fall to the forces of Islam! - (Thunder)

My dear sister. I pledge it!

Drink! Drink!

- The car will be there, correct? - Yes, Mr. Compton.

Don't forget to cancel the board meeting on Monday.

I'm going to spend a week in Spain at the castle.

Yes, Mr. Compton.

I want you to find an old friend of mine, a Mr. Shakey Finch.

He is the finest long-distance motorcycle rider in this nation.

- You got it? - Yes, Mr. Compton.

The board has asked me to express their concern one more time.

- Please reconsider. - Not possible, Arthur.

The board will have to permit me this one indulgence to my ego.

- Boy, ain't he something? - Are you kidding?

That is the dumbest thing I've seen since that dimwit tried to jump the Grand Canyon.