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Damn it!
Rear armor?
Shot to hell.
You better drop back...
It's the last lap. We can win this.
Why don't this son of a bitch just die?
Oil.
Out.
Smoke.
Finished.
Give me the napalm!
Nothing works!
Drop the tombstone.
On my mark. Three,
two,
one.
I got you now, motherfucker.
Mark!
Shit!
Fuck!
That's how you want to do it? Okay.
He's still coming. Our tank is exposed.
He's got us, Frank. You have to drop back.
It's a quarter mile to the line. I can make it.
Sayonara, Frankie.
Punch out.
I'm sorry.
Forty years. Longer than my marriage.
Sounds like you're gonna miss this place.
I still can't believe they closed it down. Just like that.
The only thing I'm gonna miss is my paycheck.
Well, it was honest work for honest men.
I got a family to feed, and there's no work out there.
I hear they might be hiring down at the docks.
Five men, maybe.
Hey, thanks, man.
Thanks, Jensen.
Collect your final paycheck and leave.
The main gate will be locked in 15 minutes.
Get ready to be ripped off, boys.
Collect your paycheck and leave the premises in an orderly manner.
The main gate will be locked in 15 minutes.
Cash or check?
Better make it cash.
$300.
I worked 120 hours the last two weeks.
Cash fee. Next! Cash fee?
You wanted cash, there's a fee.
You want a check instead?
Seeing as the company's out of business, not exactly.
You don't like it, there's the complaint box. Next!
They never get it.
Self-fulfilling prophecy.
We're honest workers. We're just like you guys!
What the hell are you doing here?
You bastards!
Shit! Shit! Ross!
You okay, Ross?
Rubber bullets, the assholes!
Come on!
Hi, honey.
Hi. Sorry I'm so late.
Nice day at work?
Yeah. Just fine.
Give me that shirt.
They called the riot police. It got ugly.
I don't deserve you.
You're a good man, Jensen Ames.
And it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks but me.
So, $300. That's all they gave us.
We'll make it last. We always do.
I'll start looking tomorrow.
I think you're forgetting that I married you
for your non-financial assets.
Did you now?
Mmm-hmm.
Daddy's home. Is it you who was making all that noise?
What does little Piper want? Want a story?
You know you won't understand it.
But it will be good practice for me. But it will be good practice for me.
What the hell.
Let's go crazy.
Something smells good.
Honey?
Suzy?
Stay on the ground! Stay on the ground.
Drop the knife!
Do not resist! Stay on the ground!
Stay where you are!
Stay on the ground!
Don't move!
Move.
Get up against the wall.
Scrub yourself.
Stop.
Prisoner will step back.
Happy holidays.
They slipped.
Good morning. Morning.
Morning, Warden.
Morning.
Good morning, ma'am.
Good morning.
There goes the baddest ass in the yard.
Sound like you're in love, homie.
I am.
Damn. I had to wake up for this?
All right, is it my imagination,
or is this shit getting worse?
Like, what is this supposed to be?
Oatmeal.
I think.
Man, how do you fuck up oatmeal?
Who's the new guy?
Jensen Ames.
The driver?
Never heard of him.
Oh, yeah, I saw him race years ago. He's good.
Did some time upstate.
Killed his career.
Holder of the fastest laps at Willard, Union and Butler.
I hope he's as fast off the track as he is on.
Never a dull day.
Let's get the fuck out of here.
Heads up. It's Pachenko.
So you're the wife killer.
Takes a big man to kill a woman.
I suppose you rape kiddies, too.
You hear that, everyone?
Guy kills women. Rapes kiddies.
What do you think we ought to do about that?
Get down on the ground! Down on the ground! Now!
Nobody move!
I guess he didn't like the oatmeal, either.
Well, you've got stones.
Putting the hurt on a Brotherhood general.
But right now, that's the least of your problems.
The warden does bad things to people that mix it up with the drivers.
Prisoner 77119, ma'am.
Thank you, Mr. Ulrich.
This prison is the home to murderers,
rapists and violent offenders of every kind.
The United States penal system sends me the worst of the worst.
But the men you've provoked...
Well, let's just say, Mr. Ames,
that the life term you joined us for
may be a lot shorter than you think.
I understand. Tradition.
Soften up the new guy. An ass-slapping good time had by all.
Foul language is an issue
for me.
While looking over your record,
I couldn't help noticing your occupational history.
It seems you have some talent behind the wheel.
Out of curiosity, when was the last time you raced?
It's been a while. I lost my license.
What if I could help you?
Get my license back?
I had something else in mind.
You're familiar with the Death Race
and the driver the fans call Frankenstein?
A man so disfigured by crashes
that he's forced to wear a mask.
His return to the track is highly anticipated,
and therein lies my problem.
No one knows yet, but poor Frank died
on an operating table not long after his last race.
Anyone can wear the mask.
But not just anyone can drive the car.
You have the skills I require to keep the legend alive.
I want you to become Frankenstein.
No, thanks.
He's dead.
Why don't you just tell the truth?
The audience wants to see Frank again.
He moves them. Inspires them.
And in this world, that's not so easy to come by.
What makes you think for a second
I would risk my life doing this for you?
Win five races,
you go free.
Those are the rules.
And Frank has won four.
Win one more,
you walk.
Call it intuition, but...
I don't think you belong in here
with the rest of these animals.
I might surprise you.
The race is Friday, and I need your decision.
Ten seconds from now, I will retract this offer,
and extend it to Prisoner 68815, James Francis Barlini,
who, clearly not of your caliber,
will be quite enthusiastic about it.
And you, unfortunately, will need to spend your incarceration in solitary.
Since now I know your dirty little secret.
I'm sure you'll find solitary preferable
to what Mr. Pachenko and his friends have in mind for you.
You're a skilled driver. Your chances are good.
I'm offering you your freedom, Mr. Ames.
If it's not worth risking your life for, what is?
All right, turn her up and tighten the lines! She's hemorrhaging!
Ma'am.
You don't have to call me "ma'am." You know that.
This is Mr. Ames. You know why he's here.
Oh, I do now.
The race is less than a week away.
I have great confidence in you.
Well, then, I'll leave you two to get acquainted.
Jensen Garner Ames. Moved to the States at 24 years old.
Named after a car, the Jensen Interceptor.
A three-time local speedway champion.
You've done your homework. Or do you just know everything?
Jensen Interceptor. I had one.
Handled like a school bus.
Call me Coach. Everyone does.
Gunner. Lists.
This is Frank.
I'll show you around.
We have a fully functioning auto shop,
just like you'd find in the outside world.
Each team has their own shop.
We don't help them. They don't help us.
To the inmates, you're Jensen Ames, the new grease monkey.
Nobody will know you're Frank except us on the team
and a handful of the guards.
Nobody will talk.
How can you be so sure?
Hennessey. In here, she is judge, jury and executioner.
The race is her baby. Anyone who threatens it, she kills.
The audience for the race has halved
since Frank's been out of the game,
and so has the corporation's profit.
That's why she needs you.
What's back there?
That's a good question.
Hennessey's had a whole wing of the prison in isolation for a month.
Working on something.
Time to meet the Monster.
Mustang V8 Fastback.
Took the best and made it better.
That's a V8 Roush 5.4 liter with a Ford Racing supercharger
putting out 850 horsepower and close to...
Seven hundred pounds of torque
with sequential multi-port fuel injection.
Looks like there's a 250 hp NOS unit.
Just in case.
Then we had some fun customizing your personal protection package.
Three-quarter inch steel plate, front and sides.
Bulletproof glass will be here, here and there.
And in the rear, a six-inch solid steel shield we call
"the tombstone."
Oil, smoke, and napalm for defense.
And twin 30-millimeter belt-fed machine guns for offense.
So where's the ammo?
We get that on race day.
Pity.
Yeah. Everyone thinks that, first time.
Thinks what?
About turning the guns on the guards, about escaping.
No, I wasn't thinking that.
Well, I'm glad, because
Hennessey has got electric kill switches
in all the guns in all the cars.
And all the guard towers are fortified,
and their guns are bigger than your guns.
But did I mention the helicopters,
and also the fact that we're on an island here
a mile from the nearest shoreline?
The only way in or out of here
is on that one skinny bridge you came in on.
What's that?
Most important part of the car.
How many people has Frank killed?
Twenty. The mortality rate is average 62.2% per race.
So Frank beat the odds four times.
Yeah. Till they beat him.
The race takes place in three stages over three days.
The first two stages,
you just got to try and get rid of
as much of the competition as you can
while getting your own skinny ass over the line alive.
Third stage is where speed counts.
First one over that line wins.
Tomorrow morning, you meet your navigator, Case.
She'll help you navigate the course, reload your weapons
and help with the running of the car.
I'd like to talk to her ahead of time, before the race.
Yeah. I'd like a big-tittie girl
to lick peanut butter off my toes.
That ain't gonna happen.
It's still a prison, man. She's a chick.
They get bussed in from the women's facility upstate.
It's all about ratings, fast cars, pretty women.
Yeah, Machine Gun Joe is the only one that has a male navigators.
'Cause he's gay.
Actually, it's 'cause he goes through them so fast,
the audience gets squeamish.
Yeah, he goes through them. Through their ass.
He cuts each kill into his skin as a souvenir, right here.
What about the rest of the drivers?
Lists?
14K.
First generation Chinese-American, 10th generation Triad.
And his father sent him to business school.
He's the only man in here who holds a degree from MIT.
He's killed four men off the track.
That we know of.
Another seven on it.
Hector Grimm, The Grimm Reaper.
The man's a master. Clinical psychopath.
Believes that Hennessey is an avatar
of the Hindu goddess of death, Kali,
and that he is her messenger.
Cuckoo.
Three time consecutive life sentences.
He's killed six men off the track, another 12 on it.
You've already met the local chapter of the Brotherhood.
Their driver, Pachenko, has killed nine men< on the track.
Nobody knows how many off.
Travis Colt, our local superstar.
Used to race for NASCAR.
Yeah, he was good, too.
Until he fell asleep behind the wheel of his Mercedes
with the help of a bottle of scotch and a handful of ludes.
Wiped out the entire patio of La Scala.
Sent a dozen people to the hospital.
God damn it!
It killed three of them.
Technically the best driver in here,
but a mean son of a bitch within.
Ladies.
I hear your man Frank is still in the infirmary with 15 unhealed fractures.
I also hear he's not gonna make the race.
You hear a lot.
Who's the new fish?
Grease monkey.
Well, well. Monkey.
I got a new name for you.
Igor.
'Cause you about the ugliest motherfucker in this prison, yo.
Funny, huh?
You tell Frank when you see him.
This race is between me and him.
This time won't be no infirmary.
It'll be the morgue.
I'll be sure to pass it on.
Let's get out of here, man.
Man, that is one angry homo.
Who are they?
Work detail.
Get to work on the track for good behavior.
Those are GPS tracking bracelets.
In case somebody decides to go for a swim.
The ring.
This was the old Frank's.
It kind of melted to his hand.
Frankenstein!
Frankenstein! Frankenstein!
Assholes.
He's all yours.
Don't talk to the other drivers.
Frank never did. Part of the mystique.
Let the mask do the work.
Here comes trouble.
There's our girl.
I'm Case.
Frank.
Funny, you don't sound like Frank.
Don't sweat it. I know.
I drove with Frank. I'll watch your back.
Better than you watched his, I hope.
Still here. Well, I guess I got to work a little harder.
Get back to your car, prisoner.
You sure know how to make friends.
Case. This is mirrored glass.
No one can see in, so you might want to take the mask off.
Unless you like it under there.
How the hell did he drive in that thing?
What?
You're better looking than the last Frank.
A few crashes should change that.
Start the transmission.
Three, two, one.
And we're live worldwide.
Welcome to Death Race.
Terminal Island Penitentiary hosts three days
of the ultimate in auto carnage.
Stage 1 of the race begins streaming live in 10 minutes.
Subscribe to Stage 1 now for $99,
or subscribe to all three stages for the low price of $250.
Access to over 100 live camera feeds.
Watch from the car of your favorite driver.
See the action your way, uncensored and unedited.
A full-on fight to the death,
featuring four-time winner Frankenstein.
Three-time winner Machine Gun Joe.
Pachenko.
Travis Colt.
Audience favorite Frankenstein
resumes his bitter grudge match
with Machine Gun Joe.
Frankenstein returns to the track after a six-month absence.
They've missed him.
He's the man that just won't die.
Twelve million hits on his angle alone.
He hasn't even started the engine.
We'll do 45 million viewers today.
So, what are you in for?
They say I killed a cop.
Did you do it?
Yeah.
Bad cop?
Good cop.
Lousy husband.
Frank, Case, you read me?
We hear you.
This is a three-lap race.
Hennessey doesn't activate the weapons till lap two.
Now remember, it's first come,< first served,
so it pays to be out in front.
This is it. Countdown.
You're sure he can deliver?
Jog left to 100 feet.
50, 20...
Now!
Punch it! Hard left up ahead.
He seems to be handling himself.
Wakey-wakey!
We're being passed. We've gotta catch up!
Man, I know what I'm doing!
Hey, just leave that motherfucker...
Shut up, man!
I know what the hell I'm doing.
What you gonna do?
You can't go head-to-head with Joe like this.
He'll tear you apart.
You read me?
Listen to him, before you get us both killed.
Case, help him out of there!
There's a shortcut to the left.
There!
He's taking the shortcut!
You don't think I see that?
Activate swords and shields.
The swords arm the main guns.
Shields trigger the napalm, oil and smoke.
I know. I've seen this race before.
You think you know. It takes the weight of the entire car.
You have to make contact with all four tires simultaneously.
Anything else I'm missing?
Don't get me started.
Activate death heads.
Death heads activated.
Feel it, baby!
Score another one for the Reaper, baby.
Thank you.
Don't mention it. Come on. All clear.
Fuck you, puto! Fuck you!
We got guns.
Look out. Oil.
Damn!
Your mother's a puta, motherfucker!
What the fuck?
We got to get back in the race.
I'm the fucking Reaper, baby.
Can't kill me.
You can burn me.
You can fucking shoot me, but you just can't motherfucking kill me!
Get that off my window when we get back.
We're streaming to 46 million viewers, ma'am.
Offensive weapons are up.
It's on.
Fuck. It's jammed.
Cover me.
Jesus Christ!
Hold tight, Case!
I'm back.
Thank you. My pleasure.
Shield up ahead!
That son of a bitch!
He just stole a shield from Colt!
Defense weapons are on.
Let him have it.
The napalm won't fire!
Smoke.
No smoke? No oil? No napalm?
Again?
Fuck, man.
Remember me, motherfucker?
Coach!
The tombstone won't take much more of this.
Frank, Case, those 50 caliber shells will be through the tombstone
in a matter of seconds.
My advice, either lose him or kill him.
Unhook the napalm.
Get on my lap.
What?
Get on my lap.
What the hell?
Merry Christmas, asshole!
Oh, shit!
Nice work.
Where's he going?
A shortcut. Punch it. We can beat him.
Look out!
Grimm, Colt and Siad are gone. Six remaining drivers alive.
Subscribe to Stage 2 now!
We have 14 hours, gentlemen, so let's get to work.
Starting with this.
So what happened out there, Case?
He got distracted.
He got distracted?
Coach!
What?
Look at this. The oil sprayers work fine.
Well, I'll be damned.
Stop.
Last place.
It's too bad.
Look on the bright side.
Everyone loves a comeback.
What can I do for you, Mr. Ames?
You sure are lucky a driver like me
just happened to turn up in your prison when I did.
Oh, I'm more than lucky.
I'm blessed.
Sometimes it's like the right hand of God
is sitting on my shoulder.
I'm not racing tomorrow.
Go fuck yourself.
Wait.
Take his shackles off.
Please excuse us, Mr. Ulrich.
And take Mr. James with you.
Do you recognize these people?
Because your daughter will.
They're her new parents.
What's her name?
Piper.
That's the man she'll grow up calling Daddy.
Unless you do something about it.
Where is she now?
Oh, I'm sure I have her address around here somewhere.
You're a smart man, Mr. Ames.
Play my game, we both go home happy.
The man who killed my wife is in this prison.
I wonder what he'll say when I ask him why he did it.
Why don't you look in a mirror? Ask him.
Poor Piper. It must be hard growing up with that knowledge.
That your father killed your mother.
You wanted a monster.
Well, you've got one.
She has your eyes.
Her mother's.
So why don't you wear a number, Coach?
Because I'm not a prisoner.
I qualified for parole three years ago.
Got as far as the gate.
They got a name for it, something-or-other syndrome.
The simple fact is, the world's changed since I've been in here.
Don't know it. Don't much want to. But this?
This I know.
- What did they send you away for? - Oh, plenty.
And nothing.
To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?
I killed my wife.
Bullshit.
You're a hard man, but you ain't no wife killer.
How do you know?
I've met my share.
But you, the way you looked at her...
You couldn't do that if you'd killed her mother. So...
I say bullshit.
Coach.
What would you say if I told you Hennessey had my wife killed
and me framed for it
so she could bring me in here to be her Frankenstein?
What would you say to that bullshit?
Her name was Suzy.
I was always headed here. Always knew.
She didn't.
She was my chance at something else.
And that bitch took her away from me.
"...that thy days may be long upon the land
"which the Lord thy... Giveth thee.
"Thou shalt not...
"kill."
You should take a break. Get some sleep.
I'm okay, Lists.
Concentration for the race.
Concentration, that's what you need. Gotta get your rest.
Maybe you're right.
I will take that break after all.
Good call.
Guy can't grind for shit.
Move!
Looking for me?
Hold him.
You killed my wife.
Well, now, maybe I did.
I don't care if the queen bitch
wants to save you for the track.
Nobody disrespects the Brotherhood and lives.
Put him down.
I'm going to take your head.
What the fuck!
Hennessey made me do it. Ulrich...
Ulrich too.
Let me go, man.
I'll do anything.
You're going to die here.
Fuck you!
Now, now, boys.
Let's save that for the track, huh?
Coach!
Take a look at this.
What the hell were they building in here?
We'll find out soon enough.
Prisoner!
It's time to get ready.
Welcome to the next installment of Death Race.
Stage 2 begins.
Grimm, Colt and Siad are gone.
Six remaining drivers alive.
14K.
Pachenko.
Riggins.
Carson.
Three-time winner Machine Gun Joe.
And starting from the back of the grid, his archrival, Frankenstein.
This could be the last time we see Frankenstein race.
Just one more victory and he wins his freedom.
If Joe doesn't kill him first.
Over 50 million viewers have already subscribed.
Don't miss this epic battle. Subscribe to Stage 2, now.
Pay attention!
Where is he?
What are you doing?
What's he doing?
He's dropping back. He's not even trying to race.
We're gonna have a little talk.
We're gonna be done by the time we leave the tunnel.
Did you kill the old Frank?
What?
Tunnel comes up fast.
Remember what happened to the napalm canister?
Be a real shame for that to happen to you.
Did you kill the old Frank?
I sabotaged his rear weapons.
Why?
Hennessey.
She said she'd sign my release papers. It's my life back.
I'd have killed him, too.
I didn't kill him!
He wouldn't quit. I just wanted to make sure he didn't win.
Why would Hennessey want that?
To keep Frank here, racing.
And yesterday?
She wanted me to set you back.
So I'm not supposed to win, either.
Just make it exciting.
That's all I wanted to know.
Hold tight.
Come on! Just come on through!
Damn!
He's going after Pachenko.
Sword and shield ahead. Take defense.
No.
There's someone I need to kill.
You're out in front.
Who are you going to shoot at?
You're a dead man!
I told you to take defense!
He's too heavily armored!
Fuck!
Hit the smoke.
This is a race. You don't go backwards.
And you don't get out of the car.
It was Hennessey. Hennessey.
I know. She's next.
I got it. Frank's out of his car.
What?
He stepped out of his car.
Okay. I see him. I need guns.
Yes. Sword coming up in 50 yards.
What happened? I don't know.
Somebody must have grabbed it.
What do you mean, somebody grabbed it?
Look, man. I thought it was lit.
What do you mean, you thought?
Man, get the fuck out of my car.
What?
I said, get the fuck out of my car!
Oh, hell, no! Come on, man.
Listen, we got... Wait! Wait! Wait!
Wait! Wait! It ain't my turn! It's not what I do.
Get in there.
Don't let me down, boy.
Release the Dreadnought.
Coach?
Oh.
Well, I guess we know what she was building now.
Activate weapons.
Jesus Christ!
Coach, any ideas?
You just have to tough it out, I guess.
Hennessey will take it off after she's pumped up the ratings.
You sure about that?
Where the hell is that thing going?
Fuck me.
Lists.
Receiving.
I want you to patch me through to another car.
On it.
Joe?
Who is this?
It's Frank. What do you want?
How about we play a little offense?
I hope you know what you're doing.
Now that's entertainment!
Damn it!
Frankenstein! Frankenstein! Frankenstein!
Nice reflexes there, Igor.
Race car reflexes.
You look lost, pal.
Not this time.
I got this feeling that you and Frank are close.
Real close.
That weird accent. You even kind of sound alike.
I was wondering, what if you got in a accident?
Would that throw Frank off his game a little bit?
I doubt it,
sick, fucked-up guy that he is.
He might just want to kill you.
That's cool.
So I guess I'll see him later.
Right?
Let's roll.
Ma'am, with all respect, what are we going to do?
We're going to kill him, of course.
You want me to kill Frankenstein?
Don't be stupid.
Frankenstein can't die.
After all, he's just a mask.
Tonight is the final leg of the Death Race,
and perhaps a new champion will arise.
A five times winner.
The first man ever to gain his freedom.
The world gave you to me because you were not fit to be a part of it.
You were not fit to be husbands,
you were not fit to be fathers,
and were too dangerous to live with the rest of us.
What is this shit, man?
But when you race tonight,
know that the eyes of the world are upon you.
And know that the very same world which rejected you
now lives and breathes with you.
And it draws inspiration from your courage.
No one is ever gonna win five races.
So race well...
Nobody is ever getting out of here.
...and know that I consider you all my heroes.
I want to show you something.
Can't kill me. Can't kill me. I'm the fucking Reaper.
You can burn me.
You can shoot me. But you can't motherfucking...
There.
Gunner, Lists.
Will Hennessey's inspectors care
if we had a half gallon reserve tank?
Another half gallon?
You got a fuel tank that holds 35 gallons.
What the hell you want another half gallon for?
Coach?
Let's give the man what he wants.
Hey, where are you going?
Oh, this is not good.
Real brave, coming over here.
I'm going to win this race, 'cause I want out of this shithole.
I've already won three races.
Two more, and I'm smoking Cohibas in Miami.
Frank might want to think about that.
'Cause I'm gone.
Out of here.
Then maybe it's his turn.
Maybe he's thinking it's the other way around.
From here on out, you stay the fuck out of my pit.
Hey.
Thinking you and Frank should have a little talk.
Welcome to the final installment of Death Race.
Seven men dead.
Siad,
Grimm,
Colt, Pachenko,
Carson,
Riggins
and 14K are all dead.
Just Frankenstein and Machine Gun Joe survive.
Frank, racing for his freedom.
Joe, doing anything to stop him.
It's mano y mano, and there will be no mercy.
Tonight, only one man will walk off this track alive.
A record 70 million are already watching. Join them.
Subscribe to the final stage now.
It's an honor to navigate for you, sir.
They call me... Save it.
We won't have time to get acquainted.
What the hell are those?
Model 7 Russian states armory RPG's.
Armor-piercing, self-arming, accurate to 1,000 yards.
That's what I thought.
Prisoner, step back.
I thought maybe you could use a little inspiration.
Your release papers.
They're already signed.
All you have to do is walk off that track alive.
Well, and win, of course.
But if you do win,
I want you to think about staying here.
As Frankenstein.
With me.
Yeah.
I can see the appeal.
What would you do with your freedom?
Go back to your daughter?
That's the idea.
The thing is,
are you really the best future she could possibly have?
Are you really daddy material?
Or deep down, are you something else?
If you decided that out there on that track is where you belong,
it would be the most unselfish act of love I've ever seen.
Just something to think about.
What's this?
Small modification.
So Hennessey tells me if you're going to win, I'm supposed to stop you.
Oh, yeah? Yeah.
Sounds like the odds are stacked against us.
Then do what you do best.
Drive.
Gentlemen, this should be interesting.
Lit sword up ahead.
Deactivate that. Sir?
Just do it.
Switch it back on.
Weapons are up!
Damn it!
Shit.
Lit shield up ahead!
Damn it!
What happened?
Hennessey must have deactivated it. Bitch!
Light me up.
It's party time.
Coach, we gotta get the firepower.
Nothing lit for a half lap.
We won't last that long!
Drop the tombstone.
What?
Do it!
On my mark. Three,
two,
one!
Mark.
Damn it!
That shit don't work twice, playboy!
Shit.
Lit shield in quarter lap.
Do you hear that? Lit shield in the quarter lap.
He's coming up fast.
Let them get the shield. Keep the viewers interested.
Son of a bitch! He got the shield!
Arm the explosive.
Just in case.
Yo, Frankenfreak.
This villager's got a pitchfork,
and it's headed straight up your ass.
What just happened?
Yeah! Yeah, Frank!
They're off the track. They're escaping.
They're headed for the bridge.
Their weapons. Hit the kill switches.
Seventy million viewers, ma'am. They're all watching.
Shut the webcast down.
Shut it down!
Shut the fucking computers down now!
Get out! Get out! Get out! Now!
Get out! Get out!
Yo, Frankenstein.
It's good we had that little talk.
We gave that bitch a good show, huh?
Give me that!
Okay, cocksucker, fuck with me,
and we'll see who shits on the sidewalk.
Somebody's mad right now.
Nobody fucks with my car.
Son of a bitch!
Get the choppers in the air!
Come on. Off the ground. Go, go, go!
So what's your real name?
I don't have the time for small talk.
Just want to know who I'm riding with.
Jensen Ames.
Like... Like the car.
Well, Jensen Ames, I hope you got a plan,
'cause it's not like we're going to get very far.
You're right.
We won't.
Now would be a good time.
Very nice modification.
That extra half gallon reserve tank
should see you through to the finish.
Bon voyage, Frank.
Choppers have a visual, ma'am.
Good luck, Joe.
Get me a pilot. I need to talk to a pilot right now.
Okay. You're on.
Stay with Frankenstein! Don't lose him.
Sure you're up for this?
I'm sure.
I owe it to Frank.
Besides, Hennessey already gave me my release papers.
They have to let me out.
They've stopped him, ma'am.
Keep your hands where we can see them.
You are under arrest!
I repeat, keep your hands where we can see them!
You are under arrest!
Hey, Igor. Merry Christmas.
Come on. Let's get out of here.
Nice.
The fact you have duds like these
might make someone question your...
My taste?
Yeah. So to speak.
I don't know about you, but I'm headed to Miami.
Miami's good.
I'll meet you down there.
Once I got my baby girl.
It's a shame I didn't get to take care of that bitch Hennessey.
Yeah. That is a shame.
Frankenstein has been retrieved.
And, ma'am, ratings are off the charts.
Gifts and congratulations are already coming in.
You win again.
Mr. Ulrich,
I always win.
Damn.
I love this game.
So we had to fix this car?
How many times we gonna keep doing this, man?
This car is not gonna start.
Damn it!
You say you want me to live the life of an honest man, huh?
Yep. You better get used to it.
Hey, Igor.
Think we got a little company.
What took you so long?
Had trouble getting my release papers approved.
Wait here. There's someone I want you to meet.
Look at her.
She has beautiful eyes.
They're her mother's.
Where'd you get the rims?
I won it. Card game.
Yeah, right.
No, really.
How many horsepower's in this engine?
Five hundred.
You sure about that?
Someone once asked me,
did I think I was the best future for my little girl?
Something I've thought about for a long time.
This is what I decided.
No one in this world is perfect. Heaven knows I'm not.
But I love her more than anyone else possibly could.
In the end, that's all that matters.
She's my chance at something else. Something better.
And there's no way I'm letting go of that.
Okay, cocksucker, fuck with me,
and we'll see who shits on the sidewalk.