Izzy: Move it, move it! Get those knees up! Come on, kick it, kick it!
Jerry: What's going on?
Izzy Jr.: There's something wrong with your car. It's dripping something on my feet. Some kind of red liquid.
Jerry: Oh my God. The blood!
Izzy Jr.: Blood?!
[As Izzy Jr. floors the gas pedal, Jerry struggles to keep up and falls to the ground, getting dragged along by the car]
Izzy: Get up boy, get up! We got a problem here! Tough it up. This is for real, you've got to want it...