Death Race: Inferno Page #2
and ends with you.
Carl Lucas.
Born a gangster,
became a prisoner,
and now, a monster.
May he rest in peace.
You and your team
win five races
and you go free.
Goldberg, Lists
and that beautiful,
beautiful Katrina.
Now, for this to work,
you can't tell your
true identity to anyone.
You're Frankenstein.
Well, you're welcome, a**hole.
Four wins and not
even a thank you.
This all starts
and ends with you.
There he is.
There's the guy.
I'm having you transferred.
You're headed to the Kalahari Desert
Maximum Security Penitentiary
in South Africa where you will compete
in the first ever Desert Death Race.
Wow. What do I get,
my own dune buggy?
Youre just on loan
to the Kalahari
to help launch the first of what will
be many international Death Races.
We're sending 14K,
as well as both your teams.
So I'm guessing I should
get my passport updated.
I get the feeling that you
are not taking me seriously.
That's because I'm not.
Listen to me. I made
a deal with Weyland.
I win one more race,
me, my team,
we're out.
Yeah, well, you know,
it's a pity about Weyland,
because all deals
with him are null and void.
You work for me now.
New rules.
No.
No, I don't think so.
You don't have a choice, mate.
But if you don't want to drive,
fine.
I will paint my plane
red with your blood.
Really?
Niles?
What are you gonna do,
replace me?
With Who?
Why would you care?
You're already dead.
So, as long as you're alive, you'll be
treated like the star that you are.
Or,
I could just simply
f*** up your little plan,
couldn't I,
by winning one more race
and I'm free.
Wow. You'll never make it
to the finish line, mate.
Trust me on that.
You lose, you live.
You win, you die.
Okay, get out!
Let's go, move!
Bring that jackhammer here.
Get in the line!
Get moving!
Boy, take a look at those!
Move your f***in' arse.
Who's that?
Hey, Goldberg!
Yeah, that's right.
I'm a big fan. But we've got
our own b*tches down here.
I don't know why you
brought yours along.
Hey, let me give
you an autograph.
Move! Move!
Let's take this f***ing joint!
Kill them all!
- Set up a perimeter now.
- On the ground, now!
Sh*t!
Get up!
Are you hurt? What?
Lucas.
It always was you.
You son of a b*tch!
We thought you were dead.
So it's always been
you behind the mask.
Yeah, it's a long story.
So what kind of deal
did they make, huh?
I didn't have a choice.
Whatever it was, it included
getting your face fixed.
I saw it.
I was there.
Did you, Goldberg?
Or did you just see what
they wanted you to see?
What did they want us to see?
That is no deal.
You never needed
to make a deal.
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"Death Race: Inferno" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 24 Apr. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/death_race:_inferno_6592>.
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