Gone in Sixty Seconds

*** Subtitles by dylux ***

Corner of Wiltern and Wetherly.

Tumbler messed up.

Said the Porsche would be at the corner of Wiltern and Wetherly.

- Right there. - You're bullshittin' me, right?

- 9024 Wiltern? - What? That?

I gotta get my tool.

- Kip! - He ain't bullshittin'.

Kip! Man, that's not a tool. That's a damn brick.

Kip, man, we gonna use a brick, man,

we might as well call prison and make reservations. Aw, come on.

- Oh... - Get the number.

42850.

Hurry up, man.

Man, let's go!

Let's get the hell outta here.

Okay, Billy Badass. You got us in here, now tell me how the hell we gonna get out.

Oh, no, I know you ain't gonna do what I think you're gonna do.

Oh, man!

Come on!

- This ain't The Dukes of Hazzard. - Come on!

Aaaaaagh!

Yo, so check out my new move. I call it "the stranger."

What I do is, I sit on my hand for, like, 15, 20 minutes, until it goes numb.

No feeling at all. And then... I rub one out.

"The stranger," huh?

It's like a little boy's nursery school I've come upon here.

Where are they?

Hey!

- Leave those people alone, man. - Oh, my God. Sweetie, you're so talented.

- Stolen car. Stolen car. - I know. I know.

Hey, I love ya.

Man, we going to jail, man!

Come on!

...hands behind your back. You have the right to remain silent.

Hey, watch it!

We have a silver Porsche, estimated speed 80 miles per hour,

- heading west on Wilshire Boulevard. - (LAUGHS) Yeah.

This is Air One. We have a visual of the suspect,

southbound on Vincent Thomas Bridge.

- Something wrong, Tumbler? - Yeah, I'm missing Jerry Springer.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah!

That's right, that's right, that's right!

- Ha-ha! What's up, old man? - She'll go zero to 60 in 5.2 seconds.

Believe me, I can vouch for that.

Ground units, be advised, suspects last seen entering south side of warehouse.

13 down, 37 to go.

- What the hell is that? - What is that, man?

Now you've gone and done it, Raines.

Tumbler! Get the board and get the lights!

- I got it! - This is bullshit!

- It's not comin' off! - Keys! Get the keys!

- I got 'em, I got 'em! - Come on, everybody, let's go! Hurry up!

- I got it! - Let's go!

Toby. get it! Let's go, boys!

Come on, come on, come on! I got the light! I got the light!

Go, 90. go! Let's go!

Shit!

VIN number on that? Got it.

What do we got?

All gone. We didn't get a single one of 'em, and we are talkin' about professionals.

No visible damage to locking mechanisms, steering columns or ignitions,

and, as you can see, these are not Honda Civics.

This is one of three brand-new Mercedes - a car they say is unstealable.

Yeah, unless you get the laser-cut transponder key

sent directly to the US dealer from Hamburg.

They got somebody working on the inside.

Let's find out which dealership sold 'em, serviced 'em, et cetera, et cetera.

Yeah, I'll get on it.

- Mr. Drycoff? - Yeah?

Let's impound these cars for one month.

I don't give a damn if they belong to Torn Cruise.

Control.

Vision.

Determination.

These are the three fundamental components

of the new-generation race-car driver.

Speed is a by-product. Goin' fast.

But remember - the car is you. You are the car.

Okay? Let's ride!

Billy, you just shaved one second off your lap time!

Tommy, I don't know what that was, but it wasn't driving.

Go get 'em!

Well, well, well.

What do you pay your pit crews with? Oreos and Gummi Bears?

I folded, Atley. You know that. What are you doing here?

- Is there some place we can talk? - About what?

About your brother and the deep shit he's in.

Frank. Would you watch the kids for a minute?

- Tell me about Kip. - He took a job and he fumbled it.

Now he's jammed up. He's jammed up bad.

- What kind of job? - A boost. A big boost.

A boost.

What's Kip doin' on a boost?

Oh, you're shittin' me, man. Kip's become quite the little crew runner since you left.

- You don't talk to your ma? - She neglected to mention it.

Listen, I need somethin'. I need something cold to drink.

I thought we were goin' someplace to talk.

- Who was the job for? - A new guy named Raymond Calitri.

They call him the Carpenter. He's runnin' all the dark ponies down there now.

He's a full-on devil-came-down- to-Long-Beach trip.

He's bad. He's real bad.

And this Calitri is the one who's after my brother?

Like stains on a mattress.

And you should know I work for him.

There weren't a lot of opportunities for retired car thieves on the gimp.

He put me to work.

But I gotta tell you, Memphis, this guy, he scares the shit out of even me.

What are you doing, man?

Stop!

Stop!

Atley Jackson.

Right.

- They have Kip. - Take me there.

Raymond Calitri, Memphis Raines.

I try to learn your ways, understand your obsessions.

But this baseball, it's so bleedin' boring. Isn't?

Where's my brother?

Memphis Raines. Your legend precedes you.

Atley tells me you're the best.

After you left, auto theft in the South Bay area went down 47%.

Where's my brother?

I'm proud of these. Straddle chair from the Arts and Crafts period.

Mahogany table with cloud-lift pattern, black walnut wine table.

Metal's cold, ugly. Wood's warm, clean.

Provided by nature.

To see a piece of furniture take shape, it's like watching a child grow.

I asked you a question.

They threw us out England, threw us out of France, but here we are.

Flourishing, really,

except for the minor inconvenience of despising everything about your country.

On this list, you'll find 50 cars. Five-zero.

I need all 50 delivered to Long Beach Harbor, pier 14,

by 8am four days from now. I'm paying $200,000.

I'm not interested. I'm just here for my brother.

Your Kip came to me. He had street cred.

The brother of the notorious Memphis Raines.

So two weeks ago I hired him and advanced him $10,000.

Atley told me. If it's about the advance, I can understand your anger.

A debt has to be settled. Ten grand, from me to you.

- I wish it was that easy. - I don't see the complication.

I have four days to deliver 50 cars, and I have no cars.

- Well, that's another problem. - It is another problem, isn't it?

It's about me delivering 50 top-end cars because I said I would,

because if I don't, my South American friend goes somewhere else from now on.

And that's not good. It's a humiliation.

Because I'm the arsehole who said I could deliver.

Am I an arsehole? Do I look like an arsehole?

Yeah.

- I need that paper satisfying. - I'm retired.

Now, where the hell is my brother?

I made this as well.

My first one.

It takes 80,000 pounds of pressure to crush a car.

Kip?

- Who's that? - Memphis.

- Oh, shit. - You okay?

- Shut it off! Turn it off!

You've got 30 seconds to consider your options.

Shut it off!

One. You kill me, they kill you, your brother dies anyway.

Two. You lie, you accept the job, you take your brother, you run.

I hunt you down, I kill you, I kill your brother