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You think I should quit?! | I didn't say that. That's up to you. But I have responsibility for the other guys up there, not just you. They need to know you're all right...that they can depend on you. |
How can I go on? I feel so... responsible. | Kid, the plain fact is...you are. I'm not gonna stand here and blow sunshine up your ass. Technically, they absolved you. You and I know what really happened. You pushed it. You are responsible and you'll always carry that. You know what, I'll carry it too. I should have taken you out of that cockpit. I guess I'm a hop... |
Kid, the plain fact is...you are. I'm not gonna stand here and blow sunshine up your ass. Technically, they absolved you. You and I know what really happened. You pushed it. You are responsible and you'll always carry that. You know what, I'll carry it too. I should have taken you out of that cockpit. I guess I'm a hop... | You think I shouldn't fly. |
You think I shouldn't fly. | I didn't say that. That's up to you. I think that if you do, if you choose to come back, you'll be a better pilot... a better man. |
I didn't say that. That's up to you. I think that if you do, if you choose to come back, you'll be a better pilot... a better man. | Would you take me back? Would they? |
Would you take me back? Would they? | I'll have to think about it. I don't know about them. I do know one thing, We've got a lot invested in you. We'd hate to lose it. Even more than those other guys, Naval Aviation needs a very few, very good men. |
What happened to number five? | Ah, shit. You got me. I ain't even married. Now put your fucking hands in the air! |
You see, Quaid, none of my people could get close to Kuato. The fucking mutants could always sniff us out. So Hauser and I sat down and invented you: the perfect mole. | He's lying. Hauser turned against you. |
He's lying. Hauser turned against you. | That's what we wanted you to think. The fact is, Hauser volunteered to become Doug Quaid. It was the only way to fool the psychics. |
That's what we wanted you to think. The fact is, Hauser volunteered to become Doug Quaid. It was the only way to fool the psychics. | Get your story straight. This idiot's been trying to kill me since I went to Rekall. --You don't kill somebody you're trying to plant. |
Get your story straight. This idiot's been trying to kill me since I went to Rekall. --You don't kill somebody you're trying to plant. | He wasn't in on it. You set him off by going to Rekall. |
He wasn't in on it. You set him off by going to Rekall. | So why am I still alive? |
So why am I still alive? | We gave you lots of help. Benny here... |
The guy with the suitcase; the mask; the money; the message form Hauser...All of that was set up by us. | Sorry. Too perfect. |
Sorry. Too perfect. | Perfect, my ass! --You pop your memory cap before we can activate you. Then Richter goes hod wild, screwing up everything I spent a year planning. --Frankly, I'm amazed is worked. |
The guy's a fucking asshole. | Not true, he's one of my best friends...He's got a big house and a Mercedes. And you like Melina, right? Well, you'll get to fuck her every night.--That's right. She's gonna be Hauser's babe. |
What are you afraid of? Turn it on. | Impossible. Once the reaction starts, it'll spread to all the turbinium in the planet. Mars will go into global meltdown.--That's why the aliens never turned it on. |
Impossible. Once the reaction starts, it'll spread to all the turbinium in the planet. Mars will go into global meltdown.--That's why the aliens never turned it on. | Do you expect me to believe you? |
Do you expect me to believe you? | Who gives a shit what you believe? In thirty seconds, you'll be dead. Then I'll blow this place up... |
Now let's get down to business. Kuato wants what's in Quaid's head. And he might be able to get it, cause they say he's psychic. Now I have a little plan to keep this from happening. --Do you think you can play along? | Yes, sir. |
Yes, sir. | Great! Because, otherwise I'll erase your ass. |
I say we throw the switch and see what happens. | Don't be an idiot. |
Listen to me! He's been going on and on about Mars. He's really been there. | Use your head, you dumb bitch! He's acting out the secret agent role from his Ego Trip! |
Use your head, you dumb bitch! He's acting out the secret agent role from his Ego Trip! | I'm afraid that's not possible. |
I'm afraid that's not possible. | Why not? |
Why not? | We haven't implanted it yet. |
Why not? | A friend of mine tried one of their "special offers"...Nearly got himself lobotomized. |
A friend of mine tried one of their "special offers"...Nearly got himself lobotomized. | No shit... |
No shit... | Don't fuck with your brain, pal. It ain't worth it. |
Harry, what the hell is this? | Come on, let's go have that drink. |
Come on, let's go have that drink. | What the fuck did I do wrong?! Tell me! |
What the fuck did I do wrong?! Tell me! | You blabbed, Quaid! You blabbed about Mars! |
You blabbed, Quaid! You blabbed about Mars! | Are you crazy?! I don't know anything about Mars. |
I want that fucker dead. | I don't blame you man. I wouldn't want Quaid porkin' my old lady. |
I don't blame you man. I wouldn't want Quaid porkin' my old lady. | Are you saying she liked it? |
Are you saying she liked it? | I'm sure she hated every fuckin' minute of it. |
That son of a bitch got to be around here somewhere. | I've got him. The guy in the turban. |
Look at this shit. | What the hell is this? |
Not talk! I said TALK!! | I'm not your wife. |
I'm not your wife. | The hell you're not. |
The hell you're not. | I swear to God!...I never saw you before six weeks ago! Our marriage is just a memory implant -- agghh! |
I swear to God!...I never saw you before six weeks ago! Our marriage is just a memory implant -- agghh! | You think I'm an idiot? Remember our wedding? |
You think I'm an idiot? Remember our wedding? | It was implanted by the Agency. |
It was implanted by the Agency. | And falling in love? |
And falling in love? | Implanted. |
Implanted. | Our friends, my job, eight years together, I suppose all this was implanted too? |
Our friends, my job, eight years together, I suppose all this was implanted too? | The job's real. -- But the Agency set it up. |
The job's real. -- But the Agency set it up. | Bullshit. |
You guys all set? | Ready as we'll ever be. |
Ready as we'll ever be. | Heather and I are going to drive around a little, see if we can find that college girl and tell her to get her ass back into town. |
You stupid punk! You came <u>that</u> close, <u>that</u> close!! | One of these days, Melvin, somebody's gonna kick your ass. |
Okay, Burt, listen. Forget shooting them. Tell me this: can you get to your truck? | No problem. |
No problem. | Good. You've got the only truck in the valley that can make it up that damn jeep trail. So, here's the plan: You and Heather go for help. Get to the mountains... |
What? Well, for chrissake, we could have made a stand at our place! We had food, water... | You can't fight'em that way... |
You can't fight'em that way... | You two jackasses hauled us way the hell out here...!? |
I can't believe it. No tracks, no sign, no spoor. | Yeah, whatever they are, you'd think after they ate all those sheep they'd have to take a dump someplace... What the hell's going on in town? |
What the hell you doing back already? | You're never going to believe this, but the canyon road...we were on it not two hours ago...well, it's completely... |
Negative copy on that, Pham, check your frequency. I'm on forty-nine. | Burt, can you hear me now? |
Burt, can you hear me now? | Just barely, Pham. What are you all doing up on your roofs. What the hell's going on? Come back. |
Jesus Christ, we're only going nine miles. Be there in two hours, tops! | Yeah, well those things are gonna be on our ass every foot of the way, right? |
Well, at least the bastard can't climb. Pardon my French. | Probably couldn't move too easily on the surface. |
Where the hell are they? Hope they didn't wise up. | Nope, there! That's one. |
How many cows does it take to make a stampede? Is it like three or more? Is there a minimum speed? | I was in one. A bolt of lightning blew up cottonwood tree. Three hundred head going hell-bent for the horizon. Wasn't so damn funny, I can tell you. |
Goddamn jeep trail gets worse every year. | Has a lot of rain. |
Reckon he hated Perfection more than us? You suppose he <u>wanted</u> to kill himself? | If he did, why didn't he use his damn shotgun? |
If he did, why didn't he use his damn shotgun? | Maybe he just couldn't pull the trigger... |
Maybe he just couldn't pull the trigger... | Oh sure, he figured it was easier to die of thirst? Come on, sombody must've chased him up there. |
Oh sure, he figured it was easier to die of thirst? Come on, sombody must've chased him up there. | Oh, you mean somebody who ain't scared of a twelve gauge shotgun. And then what did they do? Camp out down below and just wait for him to die? |
Well, whatever the hell happened it's just one more goddamn good reason to haul ass out of this place. | You got that right. |
Oh, Jesus!! | What the hell is going on? I mean WHAT THE <u>HELL</u> IS GOING ON?!! |
Brother, we decided to leave this place just one day too late, you know? | Well, there's sure as hell nothing to stop us now. Everybody we know between here and Bixby is already dead. |
Here's the plan...We don't <u>even</u> stop. Ride like hell. Tonight we keep right on going. We'll walk the horses. | That <u>is</u> the plan...I mean, goddamn it! What the hell are those things? How could they bury an entire Plymouth station wagon? |
That <u>is</u> the plan...I mean, goddamn it! What the hell are those things? How could they bury an entire Plymouth station wagon? | <u>Why</u> would they do it? |
Shut up! They got wind of something they don't like! | Oh shit! |
Son of a bitch! | Son of a god<u>damned</u> bitch! Been waiting there all this time. How the hell's it even know we're still here? |
Son of a god<u>damned</u> bitch! Been waiting there all this time. How the hell's it even know we're still here? | It's been listening to us. It's got no eyes. It sure as hell can't smell anything underground, so I figure... |
Run for it? Running's not a plan. Running is what you do when the plan fails. You're not even trying to come up with a plan! | Well, it's not like we've got a hell of a lot of options... |
I'm gonna kick his ass! | I'm gonna help you. |
Shut it up! Shut the little bastard up! | Chuck him out the door! Like a little hors d'oeuvre. |
Wait a minute...the Cat. Could we take the Cat? | Jesus. It's slower than hell. |
Jesus. It's slower than hell. | Yeah, but it weighs better than thirty tons. No way they could stop it. |
But...we could pull something! We could, I don't know, drag a car behind it! | A car, huh? Like a big armored car? Need something bigger, tougher...our truck maybe...or, hell, that old semi trailer! |
A car, huh? Like a big armored car? Need something bigger, tougher...our truck maybe...or, hell, that old semi trailer! | Its tires are flat... |
Its tires are flat... | Doesn't matter. The cat can pull <u>any</u>thing. |
Doesn't matter. The cat can pull <u>any</u>thing. | Well...all <u>right</u>! We just roll on out of here! |
Well...all <u>right</u>! We just roll on out of here! | We got a plan! |
<u>I'm</u> making the run to the Cat. | Like hell you are. |
Like hell you are. | Get real. I'm faster than you. |
Get real. I'm faster than you. | <u>I'm</u> best at driving the Cat. |
<u>I'm</u> best at driving the Cat. | Only if something happens to me. |
Watch your ass, shithead. | Don't worry about me, jerkoff. |
Damn it. What the hell are they doing? They're up to something. | I don't care what they're doing as long as they're doing it way over there. |
What the hell are you doing?!! | I GOT A GODDAMN PLAN!! |
Somebody paying you to do this? | She just practically asked you for a date. What the hell is wrong?! |
Burt! Heather! | Yeah, Val. |
Yeah, Val. | We're in deep shit over here. Let's change that plan. |
You paying attention? This oughta hurt like hell. | It does. |
What?!! Since when the hell's every goddamn thing up to us?! | You guys do all the odd jobs. |
You're fishing. You don't know shit. | I know about Esparza. |
What, "everything"? You shot a corpse. I don't give a shit about that -- ! | Let's snuff this lowlife! |
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