- (horse hooves galloping) - (hawk screams)
RUSTY: In a town where only the strong survive,
and vicious outlaws have a showdown
every day at high noon,
are you tough enough to be sheriff for the day?
Well, then come on down to Cowpoke Corral,
where you can try your hand at apple bobbing,
spittoon spitting, and barrel rolling.
Not to mention all the sarsaparilla you can drink
from our commemorative glass boots.
(reading)
ALL: Yeehaw!
(wind whistling)
Whoa. What happened to this place?
It's a ghost town.
Ghosts? You said we were going to some corny Western town.
You didn't say anything about ghosts.
You know ghosts are drawn to me!
I mean the place is run-down, Scott.
But since I put "become sheriff for the day" on my list when I was nine,
we might as well have a rootin', tootin' good time doing it.
Come on, partner.
- Yee-haw! - SCOTT: Yee-haw, I guess.
(lively music)
(gasps) There's the old horse corral. And the old water trough.
(gasps) And the old Rusty Nickels!
Ah! He is definitely a ghost!
Listen here, sidewinders.
We got some rules in the Cowpoke Corral.
No bikes, no foul language, and no horseplay.
Unless you're a horse, of course.
And absolutely no phones.
You can put those wireless telegraph doohickeys
in this here bucket and collect them at day's end.
Oh. Look at all that fresh dirt.
I bet I could carve out some sick bike tricks on those.
Uh, yeah, sure. Have fun.
I've got a sheriff's badge to win.
Now, which of you junior buckaroos
think they're ready to be sheriff?
Aren't you a little old for this contest?
Age is just a number, kid.
My number is six. What's yours?
Number one.
(country music)
(whinnies)
(whoops)
(alarm bell ringing)
(giggling)
(Hailey grunts)
(growls)
Yeah!
Dang it, Jungo!
- This is a ranch, not a rodeo! - (Jungo laughing)
JUNGO: You'll never catch me, Rusty!
(screams)
- (kids panting) - All right, buckaroos.
Time for your last challenge of the day.
(neighing, huffing)
Uh, who's that?
Bitter Bertha.
The wildest bronco this side of the Colorado.
No one's ever been able to ride her,
and those who tried got a ride in an ambulance instead.
And I have to ride her to win?
Are you off your rocker? Of course not!
You're riding Miss Millie.
(sighs)
(brays)
So, did I win?
Yeah. I think you won.
(chiming)
Woo-hoo!
Tighten that hitch, Missy.
Can't give a ride on a wobbly wagon.
Don't squat with your spurs on. You might spring a leak.
- (children giggling) - Have fun, young'uns,
but I'll have no cussin', fussin' or mussin'.
There's a new sheriff in town.
- (panting) Hailey, you got to see-- - Whoa!
Slow down there, little doggie.
Your gums are a-flappin' before the syrup hits the flapjack.
- Why are you talking like that? - I think my hat's on too tight.
- What do you want, Scott? - Oh, I just wanna show you
all the sick bike tricks I did.
I posted the videos, and I got a ton of shares.
As newly-minted sheriff, I must remind you
that this town has rules against bikes and phones.
And seeing as you and I are known associates,
you've put me in a dilly of a pickle.
Don't worry, Hailey.
What's the worst that could happen?
(motorcycle engines revving)
Scott, never ask that question.
(hip-hop music)
(yelping)
I'm sure this has nothing to do with the videos I posted
about all the sweet fresh dirt.
Name's Road Rash, and we're here because of the videos you posted
about all the sweet fresh dirt.
Of course you are.
We dabble in mischief,
mayhem and mud flinging,
and this town is perfect for all three.
Don't worry, I'll talk to these guys, biker to biker.
Hey, man, as a fellow biker, maybe you all can just head out
and find another town to ruin.
If you're a real biker, what's your biker name?
My biker name is, um...
"Butter Scott." Get it?
Because I love butter.
What? You think I love road rash?
Your nickname is what you like the least,
because that's the sickest!
- (all chuckling) - You gotta do the opposite.
Oh. In that case, call me "No Butter Scott."
(scoffs) Move, poser.
- This is our town now. - (coughs)
(hip-hop music resumes)
Let's go!
Who will stop these varmints?
I paid for all-day parking!
ROAD RASH: All right!
That's it, I'm out of here!
- Miss Banks. - Yeah?
As sheriff, ridding the town of these here
two-wheeled weasels is your responsibility.
Ha-ha, very funny.
Wait, you're serious?
She who wears the badge bears the burden.
What if that six-year-old had won?
(cries)
This is just a plastic badge.
And also, I'm not good with confrontation.
This is my fault.
I never should've made those videos.
Or posted them online.
Or eaten that spicy chili from the chuck wagon.
We don't have a chuck wagon.
(stomach gurgles)
Point is, I'm going to fix this.
Well, maybe not the chili part.
But I know the biker code,
and the only way these guys will leave
is if we out-extreme them.
Check it. This is gonna be extreme!
(Road Rash laughs)
That was pretty extreme. Extremely lame.
Please help, Sheriff Hailey.
You're right, dusty girl.
I can't let these bullies take over this town.
I am sheriff after all, and I know what I have to do.
Gentlemen, this is a law-abiding town,
and as sheriff, for the day, I must kindly ask you to leave.
(laughing)
Hm. Didn't know that was fake.
Point is, this town ain't big enough for the...
15 of us?
Twenty?
Regardless, you got to go.
Oh, yeah? Who's going to make us?
Sheriff Hailey Alohilani Banks, that's who.
And I am challenging you to an extreme stunt duel.
(all gasp)
As part of the biker code, I must accept.
But have fun trying to beat me on your puny pedal bike, kid.
Make sure you take off your training wheels.
(chuckles)
No offense, Carl.
Oh, I'm going to beat you, all right.
On nature's bike. A horse.
(snorts)
You're gonna try to out-extreme me on a meat-cycle?
Good luck, sheriff.
You'll need it.
Whoa. Hey, girl.
You've got a pretty wild reputation around here.
But I know deep down, you're a gentle soul.
So, whatever happened in your past, just let it go.
(somber music)
(distant whinnying)
I'll always love you, Bertha.
You're the best horse ever.
And nothing could ever replace you.
(engine revs)
Whoa! A dirt bike for my birthday? Cool!
Move, horse!
(dirt bike engines revving)
(hip-hop music)
(snorts)
- (neighs) - Whoa!
Bertha! Calm down, girl!
(snorts)
Oh, it is on, weird girl.
That's Sheriff Weird Girl to you.
Bertha, I sure hope you know some tricks.
(grunts)
- (whinnies) - (Hailey grunts)
Whoo!
Whoa!
Superman!
Whoa.
He's too good. We can't beat that.
Looks like I win.
Move, horse.
(chuffs)
- (neighs angrily) - (Hailey shrieks)
(growls)
Whoa!
I hate road rash!
(all cheering)
You beat me fair and square, sheriff.
Guess we'll have to find a new place to ride.
Come on, Carl!
(wheels creaking)
(all cheering)
Well, my work here is done.
But this town is still going to need a sheriff
to keep it safe, so there you go, partner.
Wear her with pride.
Can I have the hat, too?
Nah.
This is coming with me.
I pulled the cord too tight, and now it's stuck.
- Hailey. - SCOTT: Ah!
Seriously, stop doing that.
Your sheriff badge was well-earned,
and you're welcome in this town anytime.
Thank you, Mr. Nickels, and I must say...
- (wind whistling) - (crow cawing)
Yeah, he's definitely a ghost.
RUSTY: Some folks say a fool fears nothing,
but a hero faces their fear.
Well, if that's true, then I reckon there's no hero
more legendary than Hailey Alohilani Banks.
Sheriff for a day, but hero for a lifetime.
(whip cracks)
(hip-hop music)