Herbie Rides Again

What a location!

Si. The mighty Coliseum.

The glory of Roma.

Doesn't it stir your...

your imagination?

You bet it does, baby!

Do you people realize what

a shopping centre we could put there?

Plenty of parking, too.

Ladies and gentlemen,

the world's highest

office building! Hawk Plaza!

130 stories of man-made glory!

In a few hours, Hawk Enterprises

will break ground on this project.

''How did it happen?'' you ask.

Here's the man who made it possible.

Thank you, friends. Thank you.

My heart is too full to speak.

You see?

You've brought a tear

to this flinty old eye.

So, all I can say is thank you.

Thank you for allowing me to share

a moment of your precious time.

Get those deadheads out

before they drink all my booze.

Alright, everyone, to my office,

where a scroll awaits you.

- Hello?

- Mr. Barnsdorf, sir.

Hello, Barnsdorf.

When can we start digging?

What are you talking about?

That building site's as clean as a...

What's that?

I thought we got rid of

that crummy firehouse months ago!

A little hold-up. Old lady Steinmetz

won't sign the papers.

One little beat-up old lady

makes monkeys of the most

overpaid lawyers in the country.

C'mon, boys! I expect action.

I'd better get it or else!

She doesn't seem to trust us.

Well, of course she doesn't!

Look at yourselves.

Your own mothers wouldn't trust you.

What we need is someone

so nauseatingly innocent,

so stomach-churningly helpful

and so dumb,

anyone would trust 'em!

Mr. Willoughby Whitfield for you.

He says he's your nephew.

Whoever he is, throw him out.

And don't bother me again!

Say, wait. Is he the dumb-looking

kid of my sister's from back east,

goes to law school or something?

He finished law school.

He's a full-fledged lawyer.

He's a full-fledged lawyer!

Send him in!

Mr. Hawk will see you now.

Thank you.

Come in, boy. Come in!

Isn't he beautiful?

Uncle Alonzo, I hereby present you

with the Furze Law College

Humanitarian of the Year Award.

Well, well, well.

Humanitarian of the Year, eh?

That's right.

Award committees

give out humanitarian awards

to a lot of strange ducks,

but why me?

- I was the award committee.

- You put in the fix?

You took care of your Uncle Alonzo.

Smart boy.

I admire somebody who knows

how to use juice properly.

Juice?

Yes, juice.

How to use muscle, influence.

How to bend things his own way.

Oh, no. Goodness, no.

It wasn't done dishonestly.

I thought it over and couldn't

think of anyone any more deserving.

How come?

Mother has never tired of saying

what a great man her brother was.

Replacing dirty old buildings

with shiny new ones,

sending us fruit at Christmas.

You were her idol.

Can't you clowns get out of here?

I'd like to have a nice talk

with my... favorite nephew.

When I look into your eyes

and see the shining light of idealism

aglow there,

it makes me young again

and ready for battle!

- Battle?

- Yes, battle!

It has never been easy

for us idealists.

And now I am going to

give you a chance

to put that idealism into play

on your very first job.

Picture, if you will,

a tough little old lady

living in a rundown,

rat-infested firehouse,

standing in the way of

our latest civic benefaction.

There may be builders

who could find it in their heart

to be vindictive to this old lady.

They might say that

she feeds on the misery of the poor

in that forsaken neighborhood.

That she rolls drunks,

teaches small children to steal,

and make them bring

most of the take to her,

Would I, Alonzo Hawk,

Humanitarian of the Year,

stoop to such tactics?

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