Death Race 2 (2010) Script




Hey, are you gooks almost done?



-You are big motherfucker, yes? -Yeah.





Just moments ago, a full-scale riot broke out at Terminal lsland Penitentiary.

As far as l can tell, there has been no action taken by Terminal Island Prison correction officers.

Lock down the bridge, keep the tower guards. l want everyone else down here now.


Yeah, yeah, yeah!


Of course l'm serious! Patch me live right fucking now!

Either you take me live or l tell your wife everything.


You got that, right?

What a shit match.

l would never have bet if l knew Spiro was injured.

-But you did, huh? -Yeah. Take your winnings.

The whole world's falling apart, and Manchester United with it.

When l came over here, that clip was the first thing l ever bought with my own money, you know?

So, you take care of it. You look after it.

Look at you, profiting off football. He's never watched a match in his life.

That's 'cause it's fucking boring, that's why.

The world's greatest game. l think it's the third world's greatest game, right?


What the fuck are you laughing at?

Excuse us, please.

About the bank, it's important to me. l know it is.

That's why l want to handle it my way, with my guys.

Well, Vinnie brought me this score.

My stipulation is that you're in charge, which is the way l want it.

-Can l count on you? -What do you think?

Yeah. l know Vinnie and his boys are a bit green, but what my nephew lacks in experience, he makes up for with enthusiasm.

Exactly what l'm worried about.


Look, he fucks up, Mr. Kane, he answers to me, okay?

lt's going to be all right, Luke. Trust me.

Always do.

l know you do.

Come on. l've got something to show you.

What do you think?

This is for me?

-You don't like it? -l think it's beautiful. l just think, maybe, you know, based on the kind of work l do, you don't think it's a bit orange?

-You don't fucking like it. -Are you kidding me?

She's stunning.

l just wonder, you think l might stand out in this thing?

No, the more obvious you are, the less suspicious you appear.

So, like, hiding in plain sight kind of thing.




Don't fuck it up.



Thank you both for coming.

PARKS: Mr. Weyland, l'm not exactly sure why she's here, but l know why l am, sir. l've failed you and l've disgraced the corporation.

WEYLAND: Relax. l'm surprised those animals don't kill each other with more regularity.

You're both here because this incident has created a public relations nightmare for me.


Was something l said funny?

Well, you had a 48 share.

Your network's previous high was a seven.

What you call a nightmare l'd call a wet dream.

Mr. Weyland, l know that the network isn't your prime moneymaker.

But l can't believe that you don't realise what a gold mine you're sitting on.

Humour me, Miss Jones.

People are tired of fake violence and fights staged by Vegas promoters.

The hatred that your inmates have is pure. Can't be duplicated.


You're calling what happened today entertainment?


What exactly do you have in mind?

VlNNlE: No, seriously, l gotta tell you, this motherfucker's never carried a gun in 20 years working for my uncle.

-That right, Luke? -LUKE: Vinnie, pay attention.

You got 60 seconds. You get in, you get out.

-No one gets hurt. -We know. Don't worry.




LUKE: We got company. Get out of there.

Vinnie, you copy?

VlNNlE: Don't worry about it, man. Don't stress out.

-LUKE: Look, abort. Get out of there. -Chill, man.

Jonesy, abort. Abort. Get out of there.

-It's under control. -Fuck.


Get the fuck down! Get the fuck down! Don't look at me!


-Freeze! -What the fuck?



LUKE: Fucking idiot!

Twenty years and nobody got hurt.

You. Dumb fuck.

We're leaving now! Move!

-Shit! -Fuck!

-Shit! God damn it! -Go, go, go, man!

Come on, let's move!

Fuck this, then.

What are you looking at? Stop!

You're crazy!

-Move! -OFFlCER: Freeze!



Let's get the fuck out of here!

Go. Go, go, go, go!

-Get in the fucking car, Vinnie. -Right.

-Move! -Gotta go!



VlNNlE: What are you doing? What are you doing?

You're going to get us fucking killed, like Terry.

The only motherfucker that got Terry killed was you. Fucking relax!


We're gonna blast our way through.

No one's getting blasted, you fucking understand me?

They're gaining on us. Luke, fuck, l ain't getting pinched.

What the fuck are you doing? What the fuck are you doing?


What the fuck was that for?

-Fuck you. -Drop the fucking gun.

-Make a choice. -Fuck.

Your uncle is family. lt's the only fucking reason you guys are walking from this. Get out.

Get out the fucking car!



MAN: Chefs from Season 1 are back for redemption.

...and it appears there's even more... robbery suspect is caught red-handed...

FEMALE REPORTER: Well, that's still yet to be confirmed, I'm afraid, Ron, as busy King Street is starting to get back to normal right now.

Just a few hours ago, it was the scene of high tension as gunfire rang...

FEMALE REPORTER: Ofthe foursuspects, one has been identified as Carl Lucas, who is a known associate

-of alleged crime boss Markus Kane. -Fuck!

-We will now take you live downtown... -Fucking hell!

LUKE: Fuck!


OFFlCER 1 : Stay where you are!

OFFlCER 2: Hands up!

MAN: Take a last look at the mainland, boys.

You ain't gonna see her again once we cross this bridge.

Bridges. Lake Pontchartrain Causeway is the longest, 38-and-a-half kilometres long, followed by Donghai Bridge, 32-and-a-half kilometres long.

-The King Fahd Causeway comes in third. -Fucking mumbling, stuttering bastard.

-Could you shut the fuck up? -Leave him alone.

MAN: Prattling on every 1 0 minutes.

-l'm getting sick and fucking tired of you. -He's scared.

What do you care? l don't.

All right! Let's move!

Get out! Get out!

Move! Come on, move! Get out here! Get out here!

Get the fuck off me.

OFFlCER: Come on, get out. Come on now.


LUKE: I will not testify. Never.

MAN: The DA's gonna pull his offer, Luke.

Kane'll walk away scot-free, and you'll go away for life.

LUKE: You see, l'm not gonna testify against Markus Kane.

Not for immunity, not for money,

not for anything.

We have some good news, Mr. Kane. We found Luke.

-He's on the lsland. -That is good news.


Always knew l could trust that guy. l told you. No way would he betray me.

Have him taken out.

You're joking, right?

So far, he hasn't played ball with the feds.

He's in for life. What happens after a month of hard time, eh?

After a couple of them African apes have a go at him.

How long do you think he's gonna stay loyal then?

You know, it's a shame, 'cause l love that guy like a brother.

Anything else?

No, sir.

-What else do you want on this? -lt's perfect.

-Yeah? Here, then. -Thank you.



Fuck you!

The average Death Match fight garners a 50 share. lt peaked two months ago at 62, but has been on the decline since.

The most dangerous fighter is Big Bill, with a death count of 1 9, followed by 14K, -who, coincidentally, has 14 kills. -Great, man.

Someone did their homework, right?

-ls that him? -Yeah.

LlSTS: That's September Jones. Former Miss Universe.

Was stripped of her crown after allegations of a sexual relationship with all five judges.

Went to work for Weyland Broadcasting as a weather girl, is now the host and executive producer of Death Match.

She grew a...

You have a list pretty much ready to go on anything, don't you?

ANNOUNCER: Live from Terminal lsland, television's most violent, most disturbing, and most watched programme in human history.

Welcome to Death Match.

Our first fighter, a murderer serving four consecutive life sentences, Xander Grady!

ANNOUNCER: Xander, 1 1 kills, one submission.

6'4", 220 pounds.

His opponent, leader of the Terminal Island Triads, he currently ranks second on the kill board, he was Interpol's third most wanted until his arrest in Los Angeles last year, 14K!

ANNOUNCER: 14K one submission, 14 kills.

5'1 1 ", 1 59 pounds.

The combatants are picked by lottery randomly each week.

There are two ways to win. Kill your opponent, or make him submit.

ANNOUNCER: There are several pressure plates that, when activated, can give a fighter access to a variety of weapons.

But they only have 10 seconds to access them.

If no fighter has won, both fighters are killed.

ANNOUNCER: Dim the lights. The carnage is about to begin.

You're number one!

Yo, baby, you're my number one!


Chinese bastard!






Something's not right.

What're you talking about?







CROWD: (CHANTlNG) 14K! 14K! 14K! 14K!

You want it? Huh?

Let go, man!

(SCOFFS) l will never give up!


-He quit! -No!

Another fucking submission!

He quit!

-14K! 14K! -ANNOUNCER: Tonight's winner, 14K!


Death Match is a trademark of Weyland International.

Fighters are convicted violent felons. Acts should not be duplicated at home.

Exactly what the fuck do you think you are doing?

You are done.


Lights out!

Hey, baby.

The numbers from the overnights are in.

What do l pay you for?

The ratings are down again. This time, 20%.

Now, you better reverse the trend, or l'll find someone who can.

Are you sure?

Yes, l'm sure. Now, you make my motherfucking money. You understand me?

LlSTS: lt's a strict Triad code.

Whoever spills the blood of a Triad, they're sworn to take that person's life.

Xander killed a Triad last match. lt defies logic why he wouldn't kill him if he had the chance.

Hey, kid, l'm not looking for a best friend, okay?

So, just leave me alone.


-Chill. Chill, man. -GOLDBERG: Relax.

You've been assigned to our work detail.

That's Rocco, l'm Goldberg.

-Goldberg, huh? -Yeah.

What are you, like, the... You, like, the last Mexican Jew, or what?


Yeah. l killed all the rest.

Okay. So, this work detail, what are we looking at?

And don't tell me we're washing underwear.

-ROCCO: No. -l don't care what you're into. l'm not washing anybody's underwear.


On your feet, Lucas. Warden wants you.

That'll be all.

Carl Lucas, arrested 22 times over a span of 20 years.

But nothing ever stuck, not a single damn one.

You just slipped through the cracks.

Well, l shot a cop.

Those cracks, they fill up pretty fast.

They sure do. Yeah.

Now, at first l didn't realise who you were.

Really? So, who am l?

Well, an idiot, and soon a dead man.

DA offers you a talk-and-walk, and you turn him down? ls that why you got me here?

No, it's not. l'm here to warn you.

-Save your breath. -Oh, don't get smart with me. l don't know how many others know who you are, but when the word gets out, the killers are gonna be coming out of the woodwork. ls that right?


And mark my words, Markus Kane will not show you the same type of loyalty that you've shown him.

GOLDBERG: Look, 14K kills Xander, he makes him a martyr. That's like an honour.

Xander quits, shames himself and the entire brotherhood.

That makes him like a pussy.

You got him, guys?


Oh, man. l got a question. All these cars, man, it's not exactly prison norm.

What's the deal?

Hey, Terminal lsland is not about rehabilitation. You know what l mean? lt's a business. All these cars, we melt them down, make weapons, guns, shells. lf it kills, we make it.

Hey, are you telling me the government's paying top dollar for this recycled shit?

Top dollar? Who said anything about top dollar?

Weyland lnternational sells this stuff dirt-cheap.

Yeah, when you're not paying for labour, your prices can afford to be a little lower, you know what l mean?

GOLDBERG: They're making money off our blood.

-What do you know about these wheels? -A little bit.

-How does she run? -Why don't you see what she's got?

-(LAUGHS) For real? -For real.

Why not?



GOLDBERG: Someone's been driving a getaway car!

God damn, you put some magic in this thing.

-How does she handle? -Just the way she's supposed to.

Who was driving that car?

-What car? -What car?

Hey, Luke, you a fighter? l got no reason to fight anyone.

Hey, reasons don't mean shit in this place.

The Calendar's always looking for new blood, and you look like just her type. (LAUGHS)

LUKE: Good to know.

Some advice, blend in. Don't give her no reason to fixate on you.

LUKE: Hey, Goldberg, l'm the last guy looking for a fucking spotlight.

-Hey! -Hey!

OFFlCER: Stay back! Stay back!

Everybody else stay back!

l don't want you in there. Move back.

All of you, stay back! Let's go! Move back!




-What's going on here? -Big guy tripped.

-That so, Bill? -Yeah, l tripped.

That's what he says.

All right, let's go! Keep it moving!

GUARD 1 : Come on, move! GUARD 2: Get moving! Move! Move!

ROCCO: Who's the little guy?

-His name's Lists. -Lists?

You'll work it out.


You ever hear of a computer? You're, like, a century behind everyone. l'm surprised l don't find an abacus in here.

-What are you doing in my office? -l'm here for him.

Carl Lucas. Even the name gives me a hard-on.

The judge called him a monster at his trial. He's perfect.

-l can sell him. -You can't have him.

-l wasn't asking your permission. -Wait. There's more to it.

DA thinks there's a chance that he could turn state witness against Markus Kane.

Now, you put him on your TV show, not only could those animals kill him, but basically, he just advertises to Kane where the chief witness against him sleeps, and then he's a dead man.

Mr. Lucas' problem, not mine.

Warden Parks, you and your prison exist for one reason, to facilitate Death Match.

And here l thought we were here to protect society and punish criminals.

Then you're dumber than l thought.



SEPTEMBER: Give us a minute.

Would you like a towel?

l'm fine.

Yeah, l'll say.

Very impressive.

And your fight with Big Bill yesterday, also impressive.

-l don't think we've met. l'm... -Yeah, l know who you are.

Save the sales pitch, huh? l'm not fighting.

lf l want you to fight, you fight.

-ls that right? -Yes. l can't do anything about the life sentences, but you participate, and l will make your life here much more tolerable.

Your own cell, no work detail, real food,

as well as plenty of


-perks. -Okay.

So, l...

l win some fights for you, you need another guy to beat me.

l mean, that's...

That's how it works, right?



Hey, go sell sleazy someplace else,

'cause l ain't buying.

-You won't leave me any choice. -Do what you gotta do. l'm not gonna be a part of your freak show.

We'll see.


You don't hear the word "no" so often, do you?

Only when l say it.

ANNOUNCER: Dim the lights, the carnage is about to begin.

SEPTEMBER ON TV: Good evening, and welcome to Death Match.

Two men will be randomly selected live, right before your eyes.

Only the winner walks out alive.

Are there any fighters in here tonight?




(MEN CHANTlNG) l need one more.


No! No!

This is fucking bullshit.

ANNOUNCER: Welcome to Death Match.

Hey! Hey, lady. Okay, you made your point.

-Switch us up. -Oh, so now you wanna fight?

Fucking right. They're gonna kill him in there, you know that.

Yeah, l certainly hope so. The name of the game is Death Match.

What the fuck is wrong with you?

Hey! Get your fucking hands...

There are two ways to win. Kill your opponent, or make him submit.

ANNOUNCER: There are several pressure plates that, when activated, can give a fighter access to a variety of weapons.

And this week, we have a new weapon that will blow your mind.


Come on!



Fuck him up, Bill!

Come on! Come on!




Motherfucker's crazy!

But cool.



-What the fuck are you doing? -l want on the floor. Can you help?




LlSTS: Get him, Luke!


LlSTS: Watch out!

Watch out!



Get the fuck out of here! Go!

Don't look good for our boy.


LlSTS: This way! This way! Come on!

The door, Luke! The door!

This is some bullshit! This game is rigged!

MAN 1 : Barbecue his white ass! MAN 2: Yo, the white boy's cheating!

-Fucking cracker's cheating! -Fuck you, you nigger!

-You piece of shit! -Watch out!



BlG BlLL: Come on!

Come on! Let's get in there!

Come on, come on! Go, go! Get out there! l told you.


LUKE: Switch!



MAN: Go, go, go!


LUKE: Get the fuck over here! Come on! Come on!

Get back.

LlSTS: Watch out, Luke!




Get ready to scream, bitch!

-WOMAN: Fuck you! -Who's screaming now, bitch?

Code red, arena stage.

-End transmission now. -Are you fucking crazy?

-Shut it down. -No way. This is my show.

And this is my prison. End this broadcast now or you're gonna be one of the cons instead ofjust filming them.


ANNOUNCER: Death Match is a trademark of Weyland International.

Fighters are convicted violent felons. Acts should not be duplicated at home.


OFFlCER: Get on the ground!



OFFlCER: Come on, get on the bus!

LUKE: You wanna live? Stay down.



Wasn't that Luke?



Get me the phone!


DOCTOR: Just relax, huh? Just relax. Won't hurt a bit. Relax.


Any closer, buddy...

You're really lucky, or this would have hit the femoral artery.

-Yeah, that's me. Lucky. -Yeah. You can say that.

-LUKE: (GROANS) Man! -Just relax. Relax.

lt's a minor setback. A few rapists and murderers died. Boo-hoo.

No. This is the end.

You messed it up by pulling the plug. We would've won the night.


You're not good enough in bed to win this one.

Sweet dreams.


OFFlCER: Come on, over here.


OFFlCER: Sit down there and shut up.

-OFFlCER: Quiet down. -Hey.

What happened?

You're not the only one that got in some good shots.

-l know. -WOMAN: All right, ladies! Line it up!

The bus is leaving. Don't make me tell you twice!

-Hey. -OFFlCER: Let's go.

-Thanks, huh? -OFFlCER: Step through, ladies!

Yeah. l don't know why l did it.

Probably get thrown in the hole for that.

Then why?

Why did you help that con?

Wasn't gonna let the man fight my fight.

OFFlCER: Right this way. Let's go.

You got a name?

Uh-huh. Yeah. Of course l do.


Come on, man.

MAN: There he is.

How the fuck is he still alive?

JOEY: Boss, we've been assured it's happening. lt's been happening for weeks now.

How much longer do you think he's gonna stay silent?

He's a tough guy, and he's been loyal... l want him dead!

We have someone on the inside, a total psycho.

-lt won't take long now. -Joey. Joey.

The box, with its implications of rigidity and squareness, symbolises unimaginative thinking and painful frustration.

MARKUS: Sometimes we just have to step back, see if the solutions to our problem lies outside the box.

Call a meeting.

-With who? -Everyone!

-You didn't return my calls. -l don't return a lot of calls. l wanna discuss Death Match. l think that we should pull the plug.

When a real-life riot doesn't generate a second-hour boost, -l'd say it's time to cut your loss. -Exactly. We need to evolve.

We've developed a strong base, we have legitimate TV stars...

The board's decision is final, Miss Jones.

ln the past six months, l'm the only profitable thing about this company.

Unless you want a sexual harassment suit crammed down your throat, you will listen to what l have to say.


9:00 a.m. tomorrow.

MARKUS: l'm troubled.

What seemed to be a very simple task has taken the most perplexing of turns.

So l'm gonna speak slowly, clearly, so my message is not lost, or ignored, or misinterpreted.

One million dollars to the man who kills Carl Lucas.

This offer expires in 48 hours, and if that happens, l will consider you all enemies, and l will bring war on your fucking head.


SEPTEMBER: Ninety percent of Terminal lsland, your grand investment, is dead space.

Death Match merely stayed your execution. lf you wanna get a breath of fresh air, you need a bold initiative. l propose a race.

Wicked. Epic.

Something like no one has ever seen before.

The track will run the length of Terminal lsland along some of the narrowest and most harrowing paths that the racing world has to offer.

The best part of it, everything that we need is right in our own backyard.

We're gonna modify each vehicle, adding reinforced steel plating, bulletproof glass, and roll cages to at least give the drivers a fighting chance.

We'll take everything that made Death Match a hit, combine it with everything we have at our disposal.

Such as?

Heavy fucking artillery.


SEPTEMBER: Every car will hold as many guns and as much ammunition as it can.


So, you're going to arm the prisoners.

Precautions will be made to make sure they can only shoot at people on the track.

Nine cars, three days, 20,000 rounds of ammunition.

Going from fighting to racing, that's a big leap.

We need a hook. Something that incorporates the two better.

Now, in a game show, no one cares about the game. The game's arbitrary.

People care about the risk and the money.

Now, we've been concentrating on the game, not the risk.

That's why our audience is bored.

Let's concentrate on the prize.

A prize more valuable than money.

Okay. What's more valuable than money?

Life is a more valuable prize than money. ln our deal with the state, we control sentencing.

That means we control their life.

So if a prisoner wins five races, he gets his freedom.

No matter what he's in for, robbery, rape, homicide, whatever, he wins his freedom.

He wins his life.

You have life,



Death Race.

LUKE: You know what? That's fucking bullshit, Rocco.

Well, how do you know, man? Maybe it's for real.

Are you kidding me?

You think they're gonna let murderers and rapists out of this place, ever?

Hey, Luke's right.

And besides that, homes, you don't drive worth a shit.

ROCCO: You know what? Fucking blow me.


Fucking faggot.

That would be the only chance l have of getting out.

And what would you do, Lists, if you got out?

Start over.

ANNOUNCER: Welcome to Death Race.

Terminal Island Penitentiary hosts three days of the ultimate in auto carnage.

Day one of the race begins in 10 minutes, and will be brought to you without commercial interruption by Weyland International. Your safety is our top priority.

Get ready. The show's about to begin.


ANNOUNCER: Dim the lights. The carnage is about to begin.

SEPTEMBER: Welcome to day one of Death Race.

Before you, 1 8 cons vie for their freedom.

They must survive all three laps in order to proceed to day two.

Their first challenge?

There are only nine cars.

That's right, gentlemen. Nine cars!

Three, two, one, go!




This is what l'm talking about!


This just keeps getting better and better!

-Hey, baby. (SQUEALS) -How about a bit v rodet?



Oh, baby, yeah!

Don't think so!


Why did you let that con beat you?

-Shit! -Hang on!


-Fuck! -Hey, why do l need this?

-You mind helping me out with this? -Yeah. Yeah. Who am l talking to?

-To talk to your pit team. -Pit team?

Luke! Good to have you, man.

So, you got your guns, your oil, your smoke, and your napalm here.

-Get your eyes on the road. -Let's race.


Luke! Goldberg.

Yeah. The Mexican Jew's here to save your bony white ass.

Now, swords and shields don't play until the second lap.

You've got the fastest car out there, except the Porsche.

And don't go head-to-head with that Ram, or he'll have you for lunch.


Son of a bitch!

Looks like we're already on the menu.


Eat this.


You feel me, baby?


-BlG BlLL: Now l got you, baby! -(LAUGHS) ls that all you got, pretty boy?

Careful of the one on the right!

Good to know.

-Yeah! That's my man! -Yes!

-Where is he? Where is he? -To the left.

ANNOUNCER: Xander Grady.

WOMAN: Come on! XANDER: Get it going!




Fucking Chinese bastard! l'll kill you!

Shit! Bastard!



ROCCO: That was a great lap, Luke, but now you need to get to a sword plate, and fast.

Activate swords, shields and death heads.

ANNOUNCER: Sword pressure plates activated.

Shield pressure plates activated.

ROCCO: You gotta find a sword, Luke. You gotta find a sword plate.

GOLDBERG: That's right. Get back to work.

There's one!

-l see it. -Go for it. Go for it!

ANNOUNCER: Sword pressure plate activated.

HlLLBlLLY: Yeah! How do you like that one, boy?

What the hell is he doing?


-Oh, jeez! -Guns! Guns!

Eat my lead, boy! Eat my lead!


Get down! Now!

-Hey, get out of there! -LUKE: Get down!


How's it feel, boy?

You gotta turn here!


LUKE: l'm working on it.

Hang on.


God! Oh, God, no!


-Ooh, yeah! -ROCCO: That was close.

Stock car racing got its start during Prohibition with moonshine runners fleeing federal agents.

Bill France Sr. conceived NASCAR in 1 947 during a meeting in Daytona, Florida.

"Lists." l get it now.


Shield pressure plates activated.






-Get a close-up on that. -MAN: Camera two, move to your left.

Where did he go? Huh?

Where did he go?

You ain't escaping me now.

A million dollars. lt's gonna be mine.

What did he just say?

Replay that for me.

BlG BlLL: A million dollars. It's gonna be mine. l'll take care of it.


Take the wheel.


APACHE: Take that, bitch. Think you're special?



No! No!




GOLDBERG: One lap to go, Luke. This is it.

LUKE: Stay with me, baby. Stay with me.


Oh, yeah!



-Damn it! -Get out of there! Get out of there!

Enough of this shit.

-What the hell? -Hang on.

LUKE: Stay with me. Stay with me.

-What's he doing? -l don't know.


Yeah! All right! All right!

Bullshit, motherfucker!

That's it. That's it.

ANNOUNCER: Sword pressure plate activated.

Not that one!

Did you just drop our fucking tombstone?

LUKE: Yeah, my bad.

Not good.

LUKE: What you doing?

-What you doing? -Drive, pretty boy.

"Pretty boy."

(GRUNTlNG) God damn this fucking car!

LUKE: Hang on!


Take this, you asshole!

-Eat that! -Fuck!

-Hang on! -KATRlNA: You're going down!

That's nice work.

Talk to me!

Now you're going down!


(EXCLAlMS) Sweet!

LUKE: l guess l lucked out, then.


-Guess we put that magic to work, Goldberg. -Well, bravo!

Come on, Luke! Yeah!

ANNOUNCER: The debut of Death Race is in the books.

CarI Lucas is the surprise winner, followed by Big Bill, Calin, Apache, Xander and 14K.

Can CarI Lucas hold on to win his freedom?

Tune in tomorrow to find out.

Yeah! Yeah!

-Man! You can drive, man! -What a rush, old man.

Hey, Goldberg, you kidding me?

Hey, where'd you learn that?

-l was a Girl Scout. -Really?

-l'm gonna get you, fucker! -LUKE: ls that right?

You don't mess with somebody in this motherfucking race!

-ls that a fucking date? -Yeah!

-Yeah? Come on! Fucking pretty boy! -Gonna fucking blow up your ass!

Come on, suck my dick, bitch!

Hey, Lists, go kick his ass. Come on.


Tomorrow, you die.



Katrina! Let's go.

-Hey, so l get to see you tomorrow, or what? -lf you're lucky.


Hey, come on, snap out of it, guys.

Hey, Lists, you gotta fix it up there under here.

Right here. Right in here.

OFFlCER 1 : Come on, Lucas, let's go.

OFFlCER 2: You heard him. Move. LUKE: Hey, what did l do?

OFFlCER 3: Go to sleep!

Hey, this is bullshit!


Okay, what did l do?

You won!

To the victor belongs the spoils.

Okay, so what does that mean?

What is this? ln ancient Rome, the winning gladiator was the recipient of gifts.

A show of gratitude from the powers that be for a job well done.

She's yours.


Do with her what you please. (LAUGHS) ls that right?

And who the fuck are you?

l'm Caesar.

You know, they're probably watching.


Listening, too, l guess.

Some kind of game they're playing.

Yeah, probably betting on what we'll do next.

Option A, they're trying to get us closer so they can use one of us against the other.


Option B being, maybe, put a wedge between us, so we fuck up on the track? l guess we do what they want, and leave the bullshit for later.

You playing me?

Does it matter?





Kane put a million-dollar bounty on Lucas, and all the bangers are going for it.

Put Mr. Lucas in solitary. l thought this was a prison thing, but this is too big for even the guards to resist.

-You still gonna let him race? -Oh, yeah.

They're free to kill him on the track, just not off camera.

What about him?

Wait! Wait!

Come on. Let's go.

You had your fun. Move.

-KATRlNA: Where are we going? -Shut up.

KATRlNA: What the fuck is this?

Beautiful view of freedom from here, Katrina.

KATRlNA: Okay.

But who are you?

You're much more attractive in person. l'm flattered. What do you want?

Carl Lucas. l want him dead.

And in return, l offer you freedom.

A chance of life outside these walls for one simple task.

You've got 48 hours. You kill him or l kill you.

Let me make these walls disappear.

Let me make you part of the view from outside, Katrina.


Forty-eight hours.




-Yeah? -WEYLAND: Sixty-five share.

Well done, young lady.

SEPTEMBER: lt's truly for the best.

You weren't happy, the board wasn't happy.

We need someone for this institution that shares the common vision.

Just wasn't you.

Warden Parks, we're here to escort you from the premises.

"Whosoever diggeth a pit shall fall therein."

Proverb 26:27. ls that supposed to be deep?

Hopefully deep enough that, when you fall, you'll break your fucking neck.


-What do you want? -Time to race.

GOLDBERG: You got a big fucking bulls-eye on your back, Luke.

You feel all those eyes on you?

Ain't 'cause you're pretty, or because you're in first place.

Markus Kane put a million dollars on your head. lt's a monster fucking bounty, Lucas. lt's as plain as day. l don't believe it.

Why would l lie? lt makes no fucking sense.

What're you gonna do?


Two, one, and we're in.

ANNOUNCER: Welcome to Death Race.

Eighteen men started. Only six remain.

An estimated 50 million people watched CarI Lucas win day one.

Can he do it again?

Five other racers will have something to say about that.

Welcome to day two of Death Race.

Dim the lights. The carnage is about to begin.

GOLDBERG: Hey! Aren't you twojust bubbling over with sunshine this morning?

Come on. We got a race to win.

What is it?


Let's race.

l've got you now, motherfucker!

GOLDBERG: Coming up behind you!

KATRlNA: Watch out!

Yeah! l just fucked your ass!


Activate swords and shields.

-ANNOUNCER: Sword plate activated. -Damn!

-KATRlNA: Watch your back! -Careful.

Here comes the guns.


ROCCO: You gotta find a shield, man.

You gotta find a shield!

-There's one! -l see it.

Go for it. Go for it!

ANNOUNCER: Shield pressure plate activated.

-Throw the smoke! -No, not yet.

Luke, what're you waiting for?

Okay, ready?

Pull it now!

Smoke, now.


Let's get this car back in the race.



Yeah! Great shit!


Okay, baby, now we come.

ANNOUNCER: Sword plate activated.

Go, go! Get gun! Get gun!

-Watch your back! -ROCCO: Get your ass out of there, Luke.

Bounty is mine, motherfucker!

l'm tired of this asshole.

Time to lose.

CALlN: Oh, my God.

Hang on.




Dig that!


Still taking it, huh?

-You die! -Come on!

Today! Today you die!

14K: What do you got, huh?


Beautiful. (LAUGHS)


All right, it's clear sailing to the finish line now.

What are you doing?

-The enemy of my enemy. -What's happening?

You die.

KATRlNA: You wanna tell me why you just risked our lives to save that banger?

They're Triads. The only people Markus would not deal with.

That's why they're not after us. They have no clue about the hit.


Look, it's a Triad kill thing. lt's a life for a life. l save his, he owes me a favour.


-Well, l saved your life. -Really? How so?

Because your Markus Kane offered to buy my freedom if l would kill you.

Jesus! They all want me dead, now you, too?

-l guess you owe me a favour, too. -l can't wait.

-Hey! l want a favour, too, huh? -Fuck off, Goldberg.

Yeah, l got you, baby.

ANNOUNCER: Sword pressure plates activated.

Shield ahead.

ANNOUNCER: Shield pressure plate activated.

Okay, ready?

Activate the napalm on my signal.



-What's this? -KATRlNA: lt's not working!

What's wrong?

-This is not good, Luke. -lt's a setup.

Yeah. l'm coming, baby!

Hey, Goldberg. Someone had a play date with this car. l got nothing. No guns, no smoke, nothing.

Come on, hit it, you dumbass bitch!

GOLDBERG: Swerve! Swerve!

-You, motherfucker! -Turn!

What can l do?

-Brace yourself. -No! What are you doing?

GOLDBERG: Get the fuck out ofthere!


Come on! You need to get out of there!

This is my fight.

No choice. Hang on.


Here l come!

Motherfucker won't stop firing!

ELECTRONlC VOlCE: Heat-seeking missile has been activated.

-Come on! -Hey! Get out of there!


Come on.

-Yeah! Shit! -Yeah!

-What the fuck? -You just killed your own pit crew.

Bitch, you shut the fuck up.



-Goldberg. -Hey, get out of there!


Get in that car! l want a close-up.

Get me out of here!

Oh, God!



Oh, my God, no!

Somebody help!

LlSTS: Goldberg, get him out! Get him out!


Rest in peace, Luke.



-You gotta answer for Luke. -What the fuck you talking about?

Katrina said it was rigged from the inside.

And you're the only motherfucker that could have got to it.

You killed him?

Get away from me. Fuck you both.

-l need to talk to him. -No.

He saved your life!


You owe him.

A life for a life. l know what to do.

DOCTOR: We've induced coma. Thankfully all his vitals have stabilised, but he should be moved to a facility more suited to his needs.

SEPTEMBER: Out ofthe question.

Doctor, someone from the outside tried to kill him.

Unless they think he's dead, they'll come back to finish the job.

Yeah, well, l can't pronounce a man dead while he's still alive.

Can't you?


WEYLAND: How are we doing with finding a replacement for Parks?

She comes highly recommended from Halliburton.

She ran their maximum security detention centre.

She's strong. She's smart. Ruthlessly ambitious. l think if l weren't around, she'd tell people that Death Race was her idea and she'd convince them that it was.

How's the switchover to the lnternet?

Transition's complete.

We start streaming live worldwide tomorrow.

The numbers have already surpassed pay-per-view, thanks to the Frankenstein commercial.

Hold on. Wait. l've been meaning to talk to you about this Frankenstein.

Did you make him up?

Frankenstein most certainly exists, and he will be in the race tomorrow.

He better be.

And he better come as good as advertised.

DOCTOR: The procedure's experimental and dangerous.

We're talking about placing electrodes into the brain.

SEPTEMBER: You told me he was a perfect candidate.

DOCTOR: Oh, he is.

But there are no guarantees.

SEPTEMBER: Let's wake him up.

DOCTOR: Mr. Lucas.

You've got second-degree burns over 85% of your body.

Now, you're lucky that you suffered no significant injuries.

Not a broken bone or damaged organ, which is remarkable considering the intensity of the fire.

LUKE: So, this is hell?


LUKE: Where else would you be?

SEPTEMBER: You do rememberme.

You win five races and you're free.

LUKE: You're out of your fucking mind.

SEPTEMBER: No more Markus Kane trying to track you down.

Like a second chance.

Look at me.

Really. Look at me.

What kind of second chance would I have?

SEPTEMBER: You're either Frankenstein or you're nobody.

You're certainly not Carl Lucas any more.

The entire worId watched him incinerate.

There's even a death certificate.

LUKE: l pityyou.

SEPTEMBER: Okay. If you don't do it for your life, then you do it for Katrina.

I'll furlough five of my worst sodomites for a play date with sweet Katrina.

By the time they're finished with her, she'll be lucky if she has a pulse.

How do you feel, Mr. Lucas?

The name is Frankenstein.


Sorry to disappoint you.

You're gonna have to settle for the Mexican Jew.

Three, two, one, and we're in.

Good evening, and welcome to Death Race.

We're streaming live worldwide for over 20 million viewers. This week...

Yada, yada, yada.

Cut in promos of the drivers as soon as the light hits green, cut back to me, crane up, chase out after Frankenstein. Got it?

MAN: Yeah. It'll look good.

Yeah, l know it's a great shot.

MAN: It will be. We're live in five.

Okay, time for one more.



Where's Lists?

Said he had some business to take care of.

Climb aboard.



You expecting another pretty boy?


SEPTEMBER: Good evening, and welcome to Death Race.

We're streaming live to over 20 million viewers.

This week, 14K attempts to repeat as champion.

But he'll have fierce competition from several new drivers, including Frankenstein.

What are you doing?

Tell me who sent you.


Good for you, Luke.

Payback for Lucas.

KATRlNA: Oh, my God!



Yes! The drinks are on me!


WEYLAND: Move my tee-off time from 9:00 to 1 0:00.

You see that?

That's a stupid bitch.

Take care of your business?

l'm only sorry Luke didn't live to see this. l'm not so sure he didn't.

Frankenstein, huh?

You got a real name?


Yeah, of course, l do.

ANNOUNCER: Live from Terminal lsland, television's most violent, most disturbing, and most watched programme in human history.

Dim the lights. The carnage is about to begin.

Welcome to Death Race.

Death Race is a trademark of Weyland International.