1
MAN: (ON RADIO)
Look alive.
Contact appears to be heading
315 miles.
Speed 430, Angels.
Approximately 2,000.
(ROCK MUSIC PLAYING)
What's taking this guy so long?
Is he really as good as they say he is?
No. Better.
Oh, yeah!
Whoa! Who was that?
Why, hello, ladies.
Are you ready to lose?
Last one to the water tower
buys a round of fuel.
Tell you what,
I'll give you guys a head start.
- You're going to need it.
- Later, loser.
One one-thousand, two one...
Oh, that's enough.
See ya, suckers!
Eat my...
- Dusty! (COUGHING)
- Oh! Aw...
(DUSTY GROANS)
Pay attention.
You're daydreaming again.
Me? No, no, no! No.
Okay, yes.
But, you know, come on, Leadbottom.
Really? How hard is this?
Fly straight, turn around.
Fly straight, turn around.
Are you disrespecting
the sweet science of aerial application?
Look, I am more than just a crop duster.
Don't go flap-jawing
about that Flings Around the Planet
air racing nonsense again.
DUSTY: Excuse me, it is called
the Wings Around the Globe Rally.
For the love of Peterbilt!
And it's not nonsense.
I've got a tight turn radius
and a high power-to-weight ratio.
- You know what else you got?
- What?
A screw loose!
I mean, why would you
want to give up crop-dusting?
Blue skies, no air traffic,
and that tangy scent of Vita-minamulch.
(INHALES) Mmm.
Just like Momma used to spray.
Delicious.
They say the sense of smell
is the first thing to go.
- You smell it?
- Quitting time!
(SCOFFS)
A crop duster wanting to be a racer.
If you ask me, more racers
should want to be crop dusters.
I got some minamulch, yeah!
Minamulch
(INDISTINCT CHATTERING)
Yuck. Nowadays, they got soybean fuel,
switchgrass fuel, algae fuel. Come on!
- Oh, healthy! No tank you.
- Tell me about it.
- What's next, pistachio propane?
- What, are you nuts?
For my money, there's nothing like
good old-fashioned corn fuel.
- Oh, yeah, you betcha.
- I even made up a slogan.
Oh, slogans are good.
(CLEARS THROAT)
"Corn. It gives you gas."
Catchy. I like that.
Me, too. There you go, Sparky,
you're all set.
- Catch you later, Chug.
- Sure thing.
(OVER RADIO) This is
Dusty Crophopper to Chug. Over.
Uh, Chug isn't here.
Come on, use the new call sign.
Right, right, right.
This is, uh, Strut Jetstream
calling Turbo Coach Truck-zilla.
- Ready for practice?
- You betcha, Strut.
Ha-ha! Whoo!
Young punk.
CHUG: All right, buddy,
I got you in sight.
Now let's start with
some corn-row sprints.
Drop and give me 20!
(ENGINE ROARS)
CHUG: Come on, buddy, keep it going!
- Ooh, nice turn.
- What else you got?
Okay. Now, let's try
some treeline moguls.
DUSTY: Yeah!
CHUG: All the way up and down.
Don't be dogging it.
- That's how you do it.
- Ooh, yeah!
- Looking good!
- Uh-huh.
Okay, adjust your angle of bank
with your alien irons!
- You mean "ailerons"?
- Oh, yeah.
Oh, great.
DOTTIE: Oil lines and oil cooler
check out.
DUSTY: Mmm-hmm.
- AN-8 fittings look fine.
- Nice.
Wait a minute.
You've worn out your main oil-seal.
Huh. Really?
That kind of damage comes from
extremely high speeds.
Hey!
Pushing the engine to the red line
for prolonged periods of time.
- That would be unwise.
- But that's not you.
You're a crop duster
and all you do is just dust crops
- at very low speeds.
- Yep, low and slow.
Unless you've been racing again!
No! What, me? No.
Oh, man, Duster, you were in the zone,
where a Saturn rocket
couldn't catch you!
Ballistic!
We're talking light speed.
Light speed, here!
You're going to tear it up
at the qualifier this weekend.
Yea... Oh, Shelby.
Um... I don't know.
Dusty, you're not built to race.
You're built to dust crops.
Do you know what will happen
if you push it too far?
Wing flutter,
metal fatigue, turbine failure.
- (GASPING) Turbine failure?
- Oh, no, I'm going down!
Why didn't I listen to Dottie?
Yeah, why don't you listen to Dottie?
She's the smartest mechanic
in the world!
- Oh, my gosh!
- What?
- The orphanage!
- CHUG: No.
- Not the orphanage!
- Kids, out of the way!
Kaboom!
- CHUG: The kids!
- (GROANS)
- (GASPS)
- (GROANING DRAMATICALLY)
- (GASPING)
- (CHOKES)
Wow! That was vivid and specific.
And exactly why I need you
to come with us to the qualifier.
You're unbelievable.
Oh. Did you hear that? I'm unbelievable.
(SOBBING) The orphans!
(SIGHS)
Tune in, in two weeks for the start of
the Wings Around the Globe.
You know, I think we've got
a really good shot at this, buddy.
Oh, yeah! Especially
if I finish this book by then.
Oh! I love this show!
BRENT: The 10 best
air crashes of all time!
CHUG: Whoa! Oh.
DUSTY: Not good.
CHUG: How does that happen?
(DUSTY AND CHUG EXCLAIMING)
That is not going to buff out.
You know, this might not cover
everything you could run into out there.
- What are you getting at?
- (STAMMERS) I don't know.
I'm just wondering if maybe
we need, uh, some help.
Help? From who?
Oh, well, like the Skipper.
That old Corsair
down at the end of the runway?
- Sure, he's a war hero.
- He's an old crankshaft.
My buddy, Sparky, says the Skipper
was a legendary
flight instructor in the navy.
That's right. He knows stuff.
He's been grounded for decades.
Why would I want to be coached
by a plane who doesn't even fly?
At least he's a plane.
BRENT: The number one crash
of all time...
Oh, man!
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PLANE: I'm okay.
(EXPLOSION ON TV)
BRENT: Ooh! That's got to hurt.
(WIND HOWLING)
CHUG: They say
he shot down 50 planes.
I heard stories about his squadron,
the Jolly Wrenches.
Mmm-hmm.
They were the roughest, toughest,
meanest flyers in the navy.
Ruthless killers who showed no mercy.
- Uh, wait, so...
- No mercy!
They would shoot you
as soon as look at you.
- I hope you're right about this.
- (DOORBELL RINGS)
Chug!
I'll wait here.
(DOOR OPENING)
DUSTY: Uh...
Hey, there, Skipper.
(NERVOUS CHUCKLE)
Say, I'm trying out for
the Wings Around the Globe Rally.
And I know you can't fly anymore,
but, you know, they say,
"Those who can't do, teach."
So...
(GULPS)
Okay, what I mean to say is,
you're not a truck.
So, I was wondering
if you would train me?
CHUG: Go on, he's warming up to you.
(DOORBELL RINGS)
So, I heard you shot down 50 planes.
You looking to be number 51?
Uh... No.
No, no, no! Wait, wait.
I just... I figured,
with my guts and your glory...
Your guts would be a grease spot
on a runway somewhere.
Go home. You're in over your head, kid.
Look, you flew all those...
(SIGHS)
CHUG: Let's try the back door.
CHUG: Hello, Lincoln!
(HONKS HORN) Hey, Dusty!
I don't know how
you talked me into coming to this.
Now, come on, Dottie.
Wow! I don't believe it. A Red Tail P-51!
DUSTY: Oh, man! A Sea Fury!
Check it out!
Wow!
NED: (OVER PA)
Ladies and gentleplanes.
May we have your attention, please?
Kindly direct your windscreens
to the heavens above
and give a warm welcome
to our special guest.
The Prince of Propellers.
When he's speeding, he's leading.
Get my good side, fellas.
When he's grinning, he's winning.
The one and only
- Ripslinger!
- (CROWD CHEERING)
You're caught in the riptide!
(CHUCKLES)
- Thanks for coming out.