ALL A B C D E F G H I J K L M
N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

[Grem pushes the emitter's lever to 75% power, and aims it at Shu Todoroki]
Finn: No!
Miles: Long live Lemons!
[Suddenly, Shu Todoroki's engine explodes due to the weapon]
Brent: Oh, number 7 is loose! Shu Todoroki!
[Miguel Camino tries to brake, but crashes into Todoroki. Then, Max Schnell tries to brake, but crashes into the two. After that, Raoul ÇaRoule and Rip Clutchgoneski try to brake, but they also crash into the three. Jeff Gorvette and Lewis Hamilton brake just in time, leaving them as the only survivors. Holley watches in shock.]
Holley: [Gasps after spotting Finn taken away by the helicopter] Finn?
Brent: Bumper to bumper as they approach the finish line! McQueen's the winner! Francesco’s second! They have no idea what happened behind them.
Francesco: Ugh! This is impossible!
Lightning: That’s what I’m talking about! Ka-chow! [Ambulances sirens] Wh- What happened? Where are all the other cars?
Francesco: What is going on?
[They look at car crashes on the TV screens]
Lightning: Oh, no!
[A chopper is then seen rushing towards the scene, as the press surrounds Axlerod]
Brent: [on TV] Sir Axlerod, is the final race in London still going to take place?
Miles: [on TV] I suppose that... [sighs] Look, the show must go on, as they say. But now is not the time to talk about...
J. Curby: I can't believe this is really happening!
Vladimir: Shh! Quiet!
Brent: [on TV] And allinol? Will you require all the racers to still run on allinol?
Vladimir: [chuckles] Here it comes!
Miles: [on TV] I cannot, in good conscience, continue to risk the lives of any more race cars. The final race will not be run on allinol.
Lemons: [cheering] Ah-ha-ha! Ha-ha! [continue cheering]
Brent: [on TV, to the TV viewers] There you have it, a clearly devastated Sir Miles Axlerod announcing that he will not require the cars to use allinol for the final race.
Prof. Z: [as casino staff pop lemonade corks] A toast! To the death of allinol and alternative fuel forever!
Holley: [rushing away from the casino] Mater, abort the mission! They've got Finn. Get out of there. Get out of there right now!
[Suddenly, she stops after turning a corner revealing several angry black Hugos in front of her; she gasps]
Ivan: [appearing behind Holley] How is your grandfather?
[The camera shows the lemons inside the casino are cheering, while Mater, who is now all on his own, is about to leave.]
All cars: [chanting] Long live lemons!
Alex: Isn’t this a great party, Ivan, huh?
Mater: Oh yeah, it’s unbelievable.
Alex: You’re not leaving, are you?
Mater: Uh, of course I’m not leaving.
Lightning: [on TV] Just in shock like everybody...
Mater: McQueen?
Lightning: [on TV] Crashes are a part of racing, I know, but something like that should never happen.
Darrell: [on TV] They're letting you choose your fuel for the final race. Do you have any idea what it's gonna be?
Lightning: [on TV] Allinol.
Lemons: [all gasp] What?!
J. Curby: Did he just say Allinol?!
Darrell: [on TV] After today?
Lightning: [on TV] My friend Fillmore says the fuel's safe. That's good enough for me. I didn't stand by a friend of mine recently. I'm not gonna make the same mistake twice.
Brent: [on TV] So a surprising revelation from Lightning McQueen. He will use allinol in the final race, despite what occurred today.
Prof. Z: [listening to the mastermind on the telephone] Yes, sir.
Miles: [indistinctly] ...Till Lightning McQueen is dead!
Prof. Z: Of course. [to his fellow Lemons] Allinol must be finished for good. McQueen cannot win the last race. Lightning McQueen must be killed!
Mater: No! [quickly backs up and the emergency light gets bashed by one of the televisions. The bash causes the device to malfunction, as the disguise changes into taco truck form, with his horn playing "La Cucaracha" as several tacos fall out.]
Prof. Z: (Huh?) [It cycles through his other forms: Dracula, funny car, lederhosen, before finally showing Mater's true form, as he nervously smiles; alarmed] It's the American spy!! [the Lemons all draw their weapons]
Mater: Dad-gum!
Computer: Gatling gun, request acknowledged. [two Gatling guns appear out of Mater's sides]
Prof. Z: DOWN!!! DOWN!!! EVERYBODY, DOWN!!!!
Mater: Shoot. I didn't mean--
Computer: Request acknowledged. [Mater's guns fire madly, shooting everything in the room as the Lemons drive for cover. The force of the guns makes Mater back out of the room and onto the balcony]
Mater: Whoa, whoa, whoa! Wait!! I didn't mean that kind of "shoot"!
Mater's Computer: Correction acknowledged. Deploying chute. [a parachute appears out of Mater's back]
Mater: Whoa-a-a! [carries him into the air. The Lemons watched as Mater go high up in the air and saw McQueen onstage] McQueen! [spots a motorboat and hook onto it.]
Boat: Whoa! What's this?!
Mater: Whoa!
Boat: Yah!
Mater: [sees McQueen onstage] McQueen! McQueen! Whoa!
[Suddenly, his tow cable comes off the boat, causing him to fall.]
Mater: Aah! [hits the leaves of a palm tree, then a hotel sign, and is about to hit a market stall]
Market Seller: Waagh! [gets hit as the screen goes black]
Mater: Let me through! Let me through! [covered in Francesco memorabilia and palm leaves, Mater skids to a halt at the media's entrance] You gotta let me in! I gotta get through to warn McQueen!
Italian Security #1: You cannot-a come through here! Back up, signore.
Italian Security #2: [into a walkie-talkie] We have a lunatic at Gate 9...
Mater: No, listen! I was disguised as a tow truck to infiltrate this Lemonhead meetin' and my weapons system misinterpreted what I was sayin'!
Italian Security #2: I repeat. Lunatic at Gate 9.
Mater: [looks past the gate] McQueen! McQueen!
Press: You are the champion!
Press Liaison: Right this way, signore.
Mater: McQueen!
Lightning: Mater?
Mater: McQueen!
Press: Give us a pose!
Mater: McQueen!
Italian Security #1: Back up, sir.
Italian Security #2: Stop moving! Stop!
[Mater darts around the securities and speeds towards the press surrounding McQueen, all his decorations dropping off]
Italian Security #1: Hey, hey, hey! Where are you going? Oy! Stop! Ferma li!
Mater: McQueen!
Lightning: That really sounded like Mater. Mater?
Press Liaison: Signore...
Mater: McQueen! They're gonna kill you!
Lightning: Mater!
Press Liaison: Signore, please...
Lightning: [moves through the press crowd] Uhhhh... scusi, scusi.
Press Liaison: No, no, where are you going?! Please, Mr. McQueen!!
Lightning: Scusi. Mater!
Mater: McQueen!
Lightning: Scusi... Mater! Mater! Mater, I'm so glad to see you. I'm so sorry--
Ivan: Lightning McQueen! I am a huge fan!
Lightning: [surprised] Oh, I'm sorry. I thought I heard--
Ivan: Yes, but that was me. I said, "You killed out there today." You're the best.
Lightning: What? Oh. I mean, thanks.
Press Liaison: Right this way, signore.
Lightning: [pushed back in the other direction] I-I really thought I heard my friend.
Ivan: In England, you'll be finished. At the finish line.
Lightning: Wait, what?
Press Liaison: Please, uh, the world press is waiting. You come-a with me, please.
[Mater, now bound and with his mouth taped, is pulled away and thrown into the back of a transport vehicle. He lands hard on his side, spitting out his tape]
Mater: Let me go!
Prof. Z: You actually care about that race car. A pity you didn't warn him in time.
[The transport vehicle's door shuts, trapping Mater inside, and blacks him out with sleeping gas]


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