[I'm Alfred E. Neuman, candidate for President of the U.S.A., and I approved this message.]

Victoria Justice and Bridgit Mendler were facing the camera mounted on the dashboard inside the passenger cabin of the MAD Mobile.

"Over the past few months," Victoria said, "you've been hearing many things about the candidates for president."

"Whether it's on TV, over the radio, or on the Internet," Bridgit explained, "the messages have been coming fast and furious."

"No matter what your opinion is on who's the best man to run our country..."

"...it is your right to state the opinion, no matter how wrong you may be."

"So make sure, if you're of voting age, which is doubtful because those people aren't in this story's demographic..."

"...that you register to vote. And on Election Day, you actually go vote."

Then, in unison...

"It's your right to vote. Whomever you vote for, we stand by you!"

The two girls then ripped off their shirts to reveal they were each wearing a white T-shirt underneath. Each of their shirts had their 'home' network's logo: Victoria Justice sporting Nickelodeon's; Bridgit Mendler with Disney Channel's.

The camera then panned over to Candidate Neuman, who ripped off his shirt to reveal that he had on a white T-shirt as well. With the Cartoon Network logo on it.

"Well, this just got awkward," said Bridgit, uncomfortably.

"Totally," added Victoria.

[Vote Alfred E. Neuman for President! Because you deserve a leader who willingly admits that, as our leader, he has absolutely no idea what he's doing!]


[We're back with this week's split-filled Wacky Race, and as you can see, both six-car fields are staying relatively neck-and-neck as they make their way to today's finish line in Dallas, Texas, just a few miles away from the Cotton Bowl!

The Sooners group is just crossing the state border into Texas...]

Near the front of that group is Samuel Schooner, who has turned his radio all the way up and was playing a song that sounded similar to the University of Oklahoma's fight song.

"TEXAS SUCKS!" he shouted out the window, at the top of his lungs.

[While the Longhorns group has just left the city limits of Waco.]

Near the front of that group was Horatio Horne, and his radio was playing a facsimile of the University of Texas' fight song.

"ALL THE OTHER SCHOOLS IN TEXAS, EXCEPT U-T, SUCK!" he screamed. "AND O-U, DOUBLY!"


Flip back to the map of Texas, which is now centered in the north-central part of the state, focused on the twin cities of Dallas and Fort Worth.

[It won't be long until both sets of racers reach the point on Interstate 35 where it splits into two different highways. One that goes through Dallas, and the other, which goes into Fort Worth.

Today's finish line is located one-and-a-half miles east of the intersection of Interstates 30 and 35E, just on the eastern outskirts of the city.]


Camera action turned to the Longhorn group, as the interstate split coming from south of the Texas Twin Cities is a little further away than the one coming from the north. The pack there was passing a sign that read 'Junction I-35W - Fort Worth / I-35E - Dallas - 1-1/2 miles.'

[The Ice King, back in the race after paying bail and getting Gunter back, is currently running fourth in this group. He's pulling up alongside the Formula Firebird, as Davey Edison Jr. tries to examine a map while driving.]

"I believe I should take 35E north," he said aloud.

"No!" Ice King shouted. "35W is faster!"

Hearing the Ice King's voice, Davey looked up from the map and tried to find him. But the Ice King sped ahead before he could catch him.

"Must've been hearing things. Alright, then... 35W it is!"

Ice King then pulled up to the back bumper of the Muskrat 5000 and attempted to confuse Mordecai and Rigby.

"The finish line is in Dallas, right?" questioned Rigby.

"Really? I thought it was closer to Fort Worth," replied Mordecai.

"You made me navigator, so trust me when I say it's Dallas!"

"You didn't even remember we had a map until I told you it was stuffed in the glove compartment!"

Ice King came up on the left side of the Number 2 to input his own two cents.

"It's closer to Fort Worth, dudes!"

He then, again, sped off before Mordecai or Rigby could spot him.

"See, Rigby? My conscious tells me go Fort Worth, and it's never wrong."

Ice King and Gunter were laughing over how well their plan was going. The only car ahead of them on the road belonged to Princess Bubblegum, and Ice King believed she could be fooled too.

"What do you want?" grumbled Bubblegum, being wise and spotting Ice King pulling up beside her.

"Just wanted to inform you, princess, that to get to the finish line, you need to get on Route 35E!"

The princess raised an eyebrow, suspicious of the Ice King's assistance.

"Oh, really? You wouldn't be just saying that to trick me, would you?"

"Why would I want to trick you?"

Bubblegum eyed the Ice King carefully. She saw him sweating, and immediately called him out.

"I KNEW IT! You liar!"

She stuck her tongue out at the Ice King, and then sped away.

[The Longhorn Wacky Racers are approaching the split...]

The Number 5 was the first to the split, and it went left, onto I-35W. The Ice King, in the Double Zero, stayed right and got onto I-35E.

[That's strange! Somebody went the wrong way!]

Seconds later, the 2, the 9, and the 13 also got into the left lane and followed Princess Bubblegum onto the highway heading to Fort Worth.

[Guys, hang on! You've been tricked!]

"What?" queried Princess Bubblegum, hearing the narrator cry out.

[The finish line is in Dallas! By going through Fort Worth, you're just adding 20 miles to your route! The Ice King tricked you!]

Upon hearing that, the princess' face went red with anger.

"WHAT? ICE KINGGGGGG!"

As she looked for an off-ramp to guide her and the others that followed her, over on northbound I-35E, Ice King was laughing out loud after fooling the other racers.

"Oh, those patsies will believe anything! Now, all I have to do is hope I beat those losers coming from the north to Dallas!"

"And me, you varmint!"

Ice King nearly did a double take. "Say wha?"

He turned to his right. Car 10A had pulled up alongside him. Horatio had not fallen for the trap like the others in the group.

"I live, breathe, and eat Texas, son! You may have fooled those city varmints, but you're gonna have to do better to best this Texas boy! YEE HAW!"

With that, Horatio Horne stepped on the gas and pulled into the group lead.

"GUNTER! Why didn't you tell me that one was from Texas?"

The penguin shrugged, giving him a 'that was obvious' look.


[Not everyone falls for the Ice King's trickery, but he's not the only one trying to bamboozle his rivals, as we switch to the Sooners group, which is coming up to the northern split.]

Along the approach on that side of the city, someone has been busy attaching new signs over the old ones. The signs here were now reading that I-35W led to Dallas and that I-35E went to Fort Worth.

Not too far from the actual junction, the three Georges were hard at work replacing the final few overhead signs. Their leader, King George, was supervising from atop the Redcoat Special, which was parked on the shoulder.

"Keep at it, men!" he bellowed. "The other Wacky Racers will be here shortly. We still have one more set of signs to change after this!"

[Looks like with the absence of the Ice King, another monarch has taken up the villain mantle in the Sooners group.]

King George spun around and found himself, to his surprise, staring right into the barrel of a shotgun being wielded by Samuel Schooner.

"I don't like Texas as much as the next non-Texas person, but us Oklahomans know that the left fork goes to Dallas! Stop messin' up those signs, you! Other racers aren't as smart as I am!"

At first, the king was shivering in fright. But then he stopped all of a sudden, becoming fearless in an instant. And with good reason. He snapped his fingers, and just like that, the three Georges were not only back on the ship, but they had each grabbed their muskets and had surrounded Samuel.

"That's cheating! Real Oklahomans don't cheat!"

"Do I look like I'm from your pitiful state, you ruffian?"

Before Samuel could answer that question, three race cars in their group sped by. That pack included the 11, the 94, and the 3.

"I guess I'm going right," Kevin said, not even suspecting that the signs had been doctored.

Shnitzel, though, spotted something out of the ordinary.

"Radda! Radda radda, radda radda radda!"

"What are you blabbering on about?" queried Mung Daal. "People can't just doctor signs like those! Most of the other racers aren't that bright! If the sign says South 35W goes to Dallas, then South 35W goes to Dallas!"

All three cars took the right fork onto 35W.

"Ye are too late," commented King George. "The damage, it has been done!"

Suddenly, the Trojan Flying Squirrel, still with a giant hole in its tail, drove up to and past the two parked cars. Andy was seen squinting his eyes as he tried to read the signs.

"Which way are we supposed to go?" Andy asked, turning to look at Fawna.

Fawna turned her head sideways, unable to voice a response.

"Oh, right," Andy suddenly remembered. "Deer can't read."

He went with his gut and kept left, getting onto I-35E. The correct route.

"That wood chopper saw through it?" questioned Samuel, surprised.

"Maybe ye southern Yanks aren't as half-witted as I was originally led to believe," admitted King George.

Samuel got off the ship and ran back to the 10B car to get back on the road, forgetting about correcting the king's misdeed. The British soldiers put away their muskets and then worked on getting the Number 4 machine started up once more.

"Hurry up!" barked King George. "We have a race to win!"

With that, both the 10B and the 4 were back on the road, bearing left and taking I-35E. Meanwhile... as for those who had gotten onto I-35W...

[Guys, hang on! You've been tricked!

Whoa! Talk about deja vu.]

"Huh?" asked Kevin Levin, hearing the narrator cry out.

[The finish line is in Dallas! By going through Fort Worth, you're just adding 20 miles to your route! King George and his men tricked you!]

"Shoulda known! That sign work reeks of upper-class 18th Century British!"

With that, he looked for the next exit so he could turn around, and upon getting off the interstate to make the maneuver, the 3 and the 94 followed suit, trusting that Kevin knew where he was going.


[Back with Group Longhorn, all six race teams are now back on the same page, or, route, and are beginning to go through the southern suburbs of Dallas. The six racers here are jockeying for position as they get closer to the finish.

Horatio Horne, in Hornzilla, has opened up a three-mile lead.]

"You know how they say everything's bigger in Texas? Well, everything's faster too!"

[Now in second place in this group is the Formula Firebird. Davey, why are you so far behind? The speed limit here is 65!]

Davey seemed shocked by that. "It is?"

He looked down at his speedometer and saw that he was only going 74. He changed that in a hurry, pressing down hard on the accelerator pedal and getting up to near 90 in a flash.

"So fast! I should consider buying a second home here!"

[The other racers are all lined up one after another, not too far behind the 9 car. Surprisingly, the Double Zero is at the back of this pack!

What's going on, Ice King? Just a few minutes ago, you diverted half of your group onto the wrong interstate! Now you've not only let them all catch back up, but you've let them go past, too?]

"There is a method to my madness! Just you watch!"

He nodded at Gunter, who proceeded to kick the car's glove compartment. Inside it was a CB radio, already hooked up and all set to go. He spoke into the radio, which was set to a local police channel.

"Breaker, breaker, one-nine. Got a report of street racing going on northbound on the 35E..."


On the other end of the radio, inside a police car parked further north on the highway, next to the 'Mile 400' marker, the two officers inside were hearing Ice King's message coming out loud and clear.

"...there may be as many as five vehicles traveling in excess of 100 miles per hour. Be advised, suspects may claim to be participating in a sanctioned Wacky Race, but we have no record of such a race approved to take place today."

The two officers looked at each other, wondering if the call was genuine. The senior of the two officers, Officer Tobbs, decided to pick up the radio and answer the call.

"This is Officer Tobbs of the DFWPD, badge number 17907. I've never heard your voice on the radio, stranger, and making false calls over police radio bands is against the law. Identify yourself!"

"I'm acting under the authorization of the Head Sheriff of Bell County, badge number 12345! He's had these blokes come through his parts an hour ago and was unable to chase them down!"

Officer Tobbs shook his head.

"Those Bell County hicks. Can't do anything right."


"Okay, understood. This is car 208, northbound on the 35E at mile marker 400, requesting back-up."

"Understood," came the voice of the dispatcher. "Back-up is en route."

Ice King put the CB radio back in place and started to laugh maniacally.

"That ought to slow them down!"

[Wait, Bell County? Weren't those the cops that put you in jail?]

"Yes. And they apologized for their wrongful imprisonment after realizing Gunter was a penguin in a cow suit! They let me go and offered me a favor, so they put in a good word for me with the DFWPD! I'll use the boys in blue to pave me path to victory!"

[You fiend!]


Up the road, Horatio Horne was going by mile marker 400. He saw the parked cop car and flew by it even though Officer Tobbs' partner was standing on the far side with a speed gun.

"One-zero-one!" he shouted, telling the speed of the 10A car.

"We got one!"

The siren went on and Car 208 gave chase.

"This is car 208," Tobbs said over the radio, "in pursuit of potential speed race traveling 100-plus."


Back down the road, just past the on-ramps from Exit 397, a bunch of squad cars were beginning to gather. Just in time, too, as the 9 car raced by. One car left to chase it down. Not too far behind, the other four cars were approaching.

"And now, for the genius part of my plan!" exclaimed Ice King.

He slowed down to exactly 65 miles per hour, allowing the other three cars to pull away. Suddenly, Rigby noticed the gaggle of squad cars on the side of the road.

"Look at all those cops! I wonder what poor schmuck would be stupid enough to piss them off."

They would find out quickly, as three police cars chased after the 2, the 5, and the 13 after they all zoomed past the group.

"AAH!" screamed Mordecai. "WE'RE THE SCHMUCKS!"

All three cars were forced to pull over to the side of the highway. As they tried to explain that they actually were sanctioned to be going at such speeds, the Double Zero passed them, cruising at the speed limit.

The Ice King would eventually catch up to and pass the pulled-over 9 and 10A as well, putting him back in front of the Longhorns group.

"This is great! I don't know how things could get any better!"

Suddenly, the dispatcher's voice rang out again over the CB radio, which Ice King had forgotten to turn off.

"Attention, all units! Reports of more street racing southbound on the 35E, around mile marker 450. All available units, please respond."

"Ooh!" the Ice King squealed in delight. "I didn't even plan on screwing over the other racers! BONUS!"

Gunter snickered with glee. "Wenk wenk wenk wenk wenk!"

"This race is ours, Gunter! OURS!"

Ice King put his foot back on the gas, hoping to speed away to the finish.


[The Ice King really has all the Wacky Racers in a pickle! They all now have been pulled over and may all be facing disqualification for failing to reach the finish!]

A look-in to all six racers in the Sooners group showed that, at different points of I-35E southbound, they were now parked as they dealt with the local authorities. Car 197 was the one fortunate enough to have pulled over the MAD Mobile. Officers Johnson and Johnson - no relation - were walking up to the car.

"License and registration, you speedin' varmint!" remarked the older Johnson, coming up on the driver's side.

He was ready to throw the book at Alfred E. Neuman. That was until he saw who one of the passengers in the van was.

"Land sakes! You... you're Victoria Justice!"

Victoria timidly waved hello to Officer Johnson.

"Hello!"

"My daughter loves your show!"

Suddenly, the other Officer Johnson peered into the van through the passenger's side. He had a similar reaction, only...

"I can't believe my boots! Bridgit Mendler!"

"Yeah," Bridgit nodded. "That's me."

"My daughter loves your show!"

The first Officer Johnson spoke up again. "What are you two doing here in our neck of the woods?"

"Well," Victoria began to explain, "we're on our way to the State Fair..."

"...and," cut in Bridgit, "we're running late, so if you could just kindly give Mr. Neuman his ticket so we can get going..."

"You two are making an appearance at the State Fair!" exclaimed the younger officer.

"What a coincidence!" shouted the older one. "We were on the way there! Why don't we give you lovely ladies a friendly Texas escort?"

"That's okay," Bridgit told them. "We don't wanna trouble you..."

"They're offering us an escort!" Victoria said, stopping her. "Let's take it."

He then turned to the older officer.

"We'd really appreciate it!"

"Very well, then! Hold onto your hats, girls! We'll be there in a flash!"

The two officers ran back to their car to lead the MAD Mobile to the Fair.


At the finish line, the fans were lined up a couple dozen-deep on the westbound side of the highway, which had been completely closed for the end of the race.

[The attendees of the Texas State Fair have made their way from the fairgrounds and to the finish line to welcome the Wacky Racers to Dallas!

But will they be cheering when the Ice King crosses the line first?]


"They better be!" threatened the Ice King, shaking his fist at the camera.

The Double Zero was approaching the junction for Interstate 30, with the different ramps for westbound and eastbound separated by a few smaller exits in-between for access to the streets below the freeway for downtown Dallas.

"Gunter! Which way am I going again? East or west?"

Gunter attempted to look at the map to point his master in the right direction. Suddenly, a gust of wind blew the map out of his hands and the car.

"Blast it, Gunter! Now I have to guess!"

The first exit was for westbound, and he moved to the deceleration lane.

[Um, Ice King?]

"Quiet, you!"

[But...]

"No buts! You think you can trick me into going the wrong way! Well, you are wrong, you invisible couch potato! Ice King's winning this Wacky Race, baby!"

Ice King proceeded to get onto westbound I-30, unaware he was going the wrong way.

[Well, he can't say I didn't try to do something nice for him.]

The CB radio sparked to life once more, as the dispatcher's voice rang out again.

"Attention, all units! Disregard the report about speeders on the 35E. They are sanctioned racers."

Ice King laughed. "Too little, too late! I'm already at the finish!"

He looked ahead of him, trying to spot the cheering crowd at the finish. But he strangely did not see anything.

"Hmmm... what the hey-hey? Where the Glob is everyone?"


Meanwhile, on eastbound Interstate 30, the crowd was cheering as one of the Wacky Racers was coming up to the finish line.

[The crowd is on their feet as two Wacky Racers sprint for the line! Oh, wait a minute... one of those is a police car, escorting the other! And, it just backed it off! This week's winner's got this going away!]

The crowd exploded with joy as the winner crossed the line.

[It's no contest! Number 3, the MAD Mobile, is this week's big winner!]

Inside the car, Victoria was grooving in her seat as she celebrated her driver's win.

"That's right, people! We are 'Victorious!'"

Bridgit crossed her arms over her chest as she glared at Victoria.

"Oh, come it off, Mendler! I get to name drop, just like you!"

A minute later, second- and third-place were neck-and-neck as they raced to the line!

[Big race here, as the Texas fan and the Oklahoma fan race for bragging rights! And the first of them to the line is...]

A cloud of smoke enveloped the finishing area, making it unclear if Car 10A or Car 10B crossed first.

[Oh my! We may have to go to infrared here to choose the winner between these two!]

The infrared vision is brought out to see through the smoke, and the image apparently showed that the Hornzilla and the Bombastic crossed the line at the exact same time.

[Double oh my! It's a tie between cars 10A and 10B!]

Unfortunately, neither Horatio Horne nor Samuel Schooner were happy with a tie.

"We keep racin' 'til we have a winner!" declared Samuel.

"I agree," barked Horatio. "Race you to El Paso?"

They nodded in agreement, hopped back in their cars, and then drove the wrong way down Interstate 30, heading westward to the far end of the state.


That night, all of the race teams, with the two rival cars an exception, relaxed at the Texas State Fair. Winning driver Alfred E. Neuman was seen taking pictures with the winner's trophy.

[Well, Presidential Candidate Neuman not only won today's Wacky Race, he may have earned a number of votes for the upcoming election as well!]

A woman came up, holding out her baby as if to signify she wanted to sign him. The MAD Mascot did one better. He grabbed the baby, put her into the top of the trophy, and then sprinted off.

"EEK! That candidate just stole my baby! He's got my vote!"

[Meanwhile, today's celebrity MAD passengers, Bridgit Mendler and Victoria Justice, are busy signing autographs for their many, many fans.]

The two teenage girls were enjoying themselves, but things got a little strange when Princess Bubblegum plunked down a tween magazine on the table in front of them.

"I'm a huge fan!" she admitted, blushing a little.

Bridgit and Victoria smiled, and then teamed up to sign the cover simultaneously.


Up in the Texas Star, Ice King and Gunter seemed to be taking everything in stride as their Ferris wheel car reached the very top.

"Can't believe that dumb cluck of a narrator was right! We lost because we went the wrong way!"

Gunter started giggling. "Wenk wenk wenk wenk wenk!"

Ice King bopped Gunter on the head. The penguin grumbled as he rubbed the newly-formed bump on his scalp.

"Wenk wenk wenk."

"Oh well," Ice King sighed. "Those Wacky Racers can celebrate all they want! Because next time, the Ice King will be the one holding up the trophy! You just watch!"

[Okay, Ice King. We'll hold you to that promise! In the meantime, good night, folks, and see you on the next thrilling installment of the Wacky Races!]

** End Episode Six **
** End Season One **