Death Race Page #5

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.

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 motherf***er...

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.

F*** you, puto.

F*** you.

We got guns.

Look out. Oil.

Damn.

Your mother's a puta,

motherf***er.

What the f***?

We got to get

back in the race.

I'm the f***ing Reaper, baby.

Can't kill me.

You can burn me.

You can f***ing

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.

F***.

It's jammed.

Cover me.

Jesus Christ.

Hold tight, Case.

I'm back.

Thank you.

My pleasure.

Shield up ahead.

That son of a b*tch.

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?

F***, man.

Remember me, motherf***er?

Coach.

The tombstone won't take

much more of this.

Frank, Case, those 50 caliber...

shells will be through

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