Dark Angel (1990) Movie Script

$70,000 for this car and they put in
a piece of shit for a CD player!
Agh! Son of a bitch!
Great! Goddammit!
Merry fuckin' Christmas!
I come in peace!
Right. Sergeant Hawkins,
evidence room J-38.
38. Terrific.
Hey, how are you doing?
Sergeant Hawkins, please report to room
J-38. Sergeant Hawkins, room J-38.
Yeah? Hello?
What seems to be the problem here,
- Hi.
- Hi.
Sign there.
- Must be some party.
- Pardon me, Officer?
Just a joke.
- Thank you.
- You're welcome.
- Better hurry.
- What do you mean, man?
- It was clockwork!
- Better hurry!
- Jesus Christ! What the fuck was that?
- A little insurance.
- What the hell for?
- No witnesses!
When I told them their organisation
wasn't cost-effective, they didn't listen...
...so I felt the only way
to exploit my talents...
...was to branch out on my own.
- Mr...
- Davis.
Davis! Davis, Davis, that's right.
Jeff Davis. My point is this.
Much like yourself, I'm sure...
...at an early age
I envisioned that my education...
...would be my saving grace,
give me that necessary edge.
Let me give you just one example.
I sensed a problem when I realised...
...that MBAs were rapidly becoming
a devalued commodity.
I got right back into Princeton...
I picked up a second Masters
in International Banking...
- which I suppose is...
- What's with all the extra muscle?
- Evening, Mr Manning.
- Just think of them as couriers.
Yeah, right. Let's see what you got.
Come on, guys.
It's really so important.
- Can I call you Jeff?
- Whatever.
- Come on!
- Without a college degree...
...a Masters at least...
...a guy can become desperate.
- Might have to join the army.
- Turn to a life of crime?
- Or become a cop!
- Why don't we get down to business?
- What university did you attend?
- The university of suck my dick!
Party time!
- I love this shit!
- Perfect!
- Hi, folks.
- Hi.
Money! Money! Money!
- Is this deal going down or what?
- Whatever you say.
- Lights out, fatso!
- The switch is in the back!
Fuck that!
- Keep talking, guys!
- Goddammit!
- There's money!
- Shut up! Shut up!
Shut up! Shut up!
Actually, you're Turner, right?
Detective Ray Turner?
You got the money, Buzz? You done?
- You're not Buzz.
- You're not very smart.
You cops ought to know better than
to mess with me and my White Boys.
Drop it.
We've been on to your pathetic charade
for a week!
I said drop it!
What the fuck is he talking about?
Smile, Ray.
- Drop it, now!
- Fuck you!
- Pack it up, gentlemen.
- Yes, sir!
- Who set this up, anyway?
- I don't know, sir.
If it was Warren, he should know better.
You boys pick up
every grain of that heroin.
- Out the back.
- Yes, sir, Mr Manning. Let's go!
Come on!
I come in peace!
What the fu...
- Merry Christmas. Keep an eye on him.
- You bet!
Son of a bitch!
Come on, man! Come on!
Come on!
I'm gonna kill him! I'm gonna fuckin' tear
his face off! That faggot!
Confirmation on the federal warehouse
explosion: Nine dead, half a dozen injured.
Could you give us some information?
- Hi, Diane. It's a slaughterhouse.
- What's going on?
Looks like the White Boys
went through a Cuisinart.
Jesus! What the hell happened?
Five dead. Nobody saw or heard anything.
Nothing new for this part of town.
Caine was first on the scene.
He didn't see anything either.
Jack, I'm sorry about Turner.
I really am.
I'm so pissed off, I could throw you
through a goddam window!
But I'm not gonna do that right now.
It's not the time.
It's not the time
to break your fuckin' neck, either!
I know how you feel about Ray.
What about Victor Manning?
He killed my goddam partner!
You disappeared for eight days!
A week I could understand...
...but eight fuckin' days!
On top of all that, you've got to answer
for the stolen heroin, plus the 500 grand!
Captain Malone?
There's somebody here to see you.
Oh, great, Feds!
Their warehouse blows, they figure
they own the whole fuckin' town!
Tell 'em...
- Tell 'em I'll be right there, OK?
- Yes, sir.
Right, you're off it.
You've got eight weeks' vacation coming.
Take it. All of it.
- Is that an order?
- No, worse.
Promise me.
Caine, you're the only man I know
who'd rather die than break his word.
- So promise me, and that's an order.
- I want Manning!
Take the vacation,
or I'll make it permanent!
Oh, and if I were you, I'd take a little time
and patch up my personal life, too.
Detective Caine,
this is Agent Switzer of the FBI.
- He'd like to ask you a few questions.
- In private.
Do you know what I do, Detective?
I know things.
That's all. That's my whole job.
To know things before anyone else.
- So?
- I know you were after Victor Manning.
I also know
that these are no ordinary murders.
Three men had their throats cut
before drawing their weapons.
- Who could possibly move that fast?
- Not who. What.
I've seen a lot of knife wounds.
This was something different.
- You think the weapon's the key?
- Yes, I do.
- Know where I can locate Mr Manning?
- Look, I'd like to help.
But I was just put on vacation.
Or didn't you know that?
- Put Caine back on the case.
- Like hell I will!
I'd have to make one phone call.
You don't want that.
Well, Caine can't. He's going on vacation.
- Isn't that right, Caine?
- I said I'd go. I didn't say when.
- Fine. You heard him, you're on it.
- Good.
I'll send his partner over tomorrow.
- Partner.
- Caine, meet Special Agent Smith.
- You're kidding, right?
- Cool it, Caine!
Mr Caine, I'm the youngest man
ever to reach my rank at the Bureau.
I make twice as much as you do,
so don't start that shit with me.
You are kidding.
Commander Switzer asked me to lay out
some parameters for you.
- Parameters?
- Sort of general guidelines...
- I know what the word means.
- Oh, good.
We will report to Inspector Switzer daily.
That means every day.
- No disappearing, not for a week...
- Eight days.
...not for a minute.
Are we in agreement here?
- You think...
- I know!
- Captain, the coroner's here.
- Thanks, Dee. Send her in.
- Hi.
- Hi.
What did Ballistics say about the weapon?
It was razor-thin and razor-sharp.
It made a deep incision
I'd have trouble making with a scalpel.
- How do you explain that?
- I can't.
- Diane?
- Look, I feel bad about Ray.
As bad as you do. But eight days,
Jack, and not even a phone call.
- Would you stop and listen?
- I don't want to hear it!
Hey, I like abuse as much as the next girl.
But this time, wondering
whether you were dead or alive...
I was kind of rooting for dead,
you know what I mean?
Diane... Hey!
Pretty healthy relationship
you've got there.
That's one.
- OK, number one on my list.
- We're going to the crime scene.
We should read the coroner's report first.
"Exploit experts.
Their expertise is essential."
Page 35 from the Switzer manual.
You could learn a lot from him.
Can we go now, or does Switzer
have some other tips for me?
You sure you want to go
with that particular look?
Give it some thought.
External things are very important.
They tell people who you are.
Know what I mean?
In that case,
maybe you should ride in the trunk.
Christmas. Big deal!
Holy shit!
What the hell are you doing?
- I'm observing, taking notes.
- Really?
The problem with most police work
is you become emotionally involved.
This way I can achieve a little distance.
You want distance? Stand over there.
By the body.
- So it's all clinical? What about instinct?
- No such thing.
Instinct is just a set of learned responses.
I've studied what to do in almost
any situation. I'm ready for anything.
- Go downstairs.
- Is there a point to all this, or what?
- Downstairs!
- Jesus Christ!
So, Agent Smith, what happens when you
run into something completely new?
I wouldn't know. It hasn't happened yet.
You're stuck now.
Yeah, maybe.
- How about you? What do you do?
- Follow my instincts.
- d Should auld acquaintance...
- d Be forgot
d For the sake of auld lang syne
Oh, goddam worthless
leg-humping, piece-of-shit dog!
Dexter! Time to eat!
Who's out there?
Miserable low-life pinko scum shit bastard!
Oh, now I'm supposed to be scared?
Fuckin' greedy asshole burglar shithead!
I come in peace!
What the hell are we doing in a bar?
I don't drink on duty.
This is hardly procedure.
So proceed home! I can think here.
What are you talking about?
How can you think here?
All the blood's leaving my head.
My old pal Boner!
What do you know?
Come on.
- Kiss that C goodbye, slick!
- Shit!
- Something's wrong with your ball, Boner.
- Hey, hey, hey!
- Where's Victor Manning?
- Who gives a shit?
My partner. He's dead.
- Hey, hey, no touchy!
- I want you to tell me who killed him.
You drop that, please.
OK, now, Boner, who killed my partner?
And who's got the drugs?
The fuckin' Martians, that's who's got it.
It sure ain't on the street.
The White Boys thinks you cops did it,
I swear it's the truth, the truth.
If I knew something, Caine, I'd tell you!
All right, beat it, Boner. You too.
So that's why we came here, huh?
To pump Boner.
Nice technique. It's very illegal,
and you got so much out of him.
You know?
I told you before, Smith.
I came here to think!
What if the weapon wasn't a blade
but a projectile, like a cue ball?
- Cue ball?
- Watch.
- It cuts this guy.
- Yeah.
Then it cuts this guy over here,
ricochets off him...
...hits the wall over here...
...then hits here, then cuts this guy.
Ends up somewhere over here.
So we're still looking
for your cue ball, is that it?
That's the murder weapon, huh?
- Don't touch it again.
- Relax, I know what I'm doing.
Get down!
Now that's a murder weapon!
Hey, look, up there!
Procedure's procedure. You're going
on report for mistreating Boner.
Terrific. Pull over here on the right.
All right. See you tomorrow.
- Where do you think you're going?
- Inside.
Hey! Switzer manual, page 11.
Evidence must be presented promptly.
I got a friend at the University
I want to show it to first.
- Is he a scientist?
- No, he's a cheerleader.
He's not authorised personnel.
I'm not going to allow it.
Nice place.
That's a nice safe place for that.
- Do you want some wine?
- What?
- Interesting painting.
- You like it?
Yeah, well, you know, it's really...
- Big!
- Right.
I guess I didn't exactly figure you right.
Guess not, Smith.
I want that disc.
Let's be honest. This is just a case
to you. To me, it's much more.
If you try to take this disc,
I'm gonna hit you very, very hard.
- Here.
- Thank you so much.
Let me ask you something.
Why don't you like me?
- Is it because I'm more successful, huh?
- Exactly.
I thought so.
Not bad.
I'll pick you up at seven.
I, um...
I wanted to apologise.
You done?
...promise me something.
Promise to remember my birthday,
or to come visit my mother with me.
I don't care, just promise me something
like you do everybody else.
Can you do that?
I don't know who pisses me off more...
...you for doing this or me for letting you.
- Hi.
- Hi.
Either you're Santa Claus
or you're dead, pal!
Goddammit, don't shoot!
- What the hell are you doing here?
- Picking you up!
The door was open, so I came in.
I think you've been robbed.
You FBI guys don't miss a thing.
There were more murders last night.
- Where's the disc?
- I left it with a friend last night.
Thank God!
- And you just got here, huh?
- Yes, of course I just got here!
Why? What are you trying to say?
Oh, my God!
Take some coffee, guys.
- I'll be right with you.
- Thanks.
I got to relax.
Extra caffeine. Lousy American coffee
couldn't keep a hamster up at night.
- Who's the suit?
- Smith here's a real, live FBI agent.
- Caine, are you nuts?
- Relax, I'm not here for that.
- It's all essential to my research.
- I believe you.
You Feds are all alike.
You're just like that tribe in Africa.
One that says the opposite to what they
mean. "Welcome!" Then they kill you!
- You've got nothing to worry about!
- See?
Calm down, Bruce. Tell us about the disc.
- Jesus Christ! Be careful, will you?
- Relax, G-man.
In a field void of charge like the one
I've created, it simply hovers.
In simplest terms, it's a magnet.
The most powerful self-contained
electromagnet I have ever seen.
- It can be attracted to other magnets...
- That's why it stuck to the speaker.
...and programmed to use other magnetic
forces as a means of propulsion.
- You can use any frequency.
- So how's it used as a weapon?
The human body
carries a small electrical charge.
You tune the disc to the charge, and then...
Flathead's basically correct.
It's like turning your radio dial to K-l-L-L.
- Incredible! I need more time to study it.
- Fine, keep it. We'll be back.
- I'm taking that thing to Switzer now.
- That thing almost took my head off!
- You can't take it!
- Really?
- You wouldn't get ten feet.
- Let him finish, then take it to Switzer.
Ah, yeah, fine. Fine.
- Hide it!
- You got it!
Three more like him came in last night.
- What links them to our case?
- Cause of death.
Massive heroin overdose.
This guy was no addict. Look.
It's definitely not self-induced.
- The Feds' heroin?
- I think so. The potency was incredible.
Your psycho stole a lot of heroin
to kill people with.
Why would he do that?
People do a lot of sick things
to each other.
What about the bullet hole?
- It's not a bullet hole.
- What is it?
I'm about to find out. Wanna stick around?
No, thanks, I'll pass.
I'm just gonna make a phone call
or something.
Doctor Schaeffer to Pathology...
- Come on.
- I'll call you back, sir.
- Got kinda stuffy in there, you know?
- Caine!
- This came for you about an hour ago.
- Thanks.
What's with you two?
Kind of a love-hate thing?
- More a hate-hate thing.
- What's that?
"Dear Caine, having a great time in Rio.
Wish you were dead. Love, Victor Manning.
"P.S. I told Warren to look you up."
- Who's Warren?
- Look at that bastard smiling!
- He kills my partner, then goes to Rio!
- So who's Warren?
Manning's partner, head of the White Boys.
Yuppie criminals.
- I've been after him for two years.
- Where are we going?
- To see Warren before he sees us.
- OK.
- What did you say?
- I said OK.
Oh, shit!
- How well do you know this area?
- A little.
- Let me drive.
- No way. It's my car. I'm driving.
Really? Two members of the White Boys
are following us.
- Let me take the wheel.
- I said I'm driving.
On second thought, you go ahead!
Turn right.
- Goddammit! What are you doing?
- Short cut. Ever hear of those?
- Stop fuckin' around! Get some backup.
- I know what I'm doing!
- Shit. Where'd you get that?
- Present from my mother. Look out!
- We're not playing chicken!
- Last thing a White Boy wants...
...is a scratch on his car!
- I got 'em!
- Son of a bitch!
- That's it!
Warren's a dead man.
- Where are we? Is this Warren's?
- Yep.
We have to follow procedure, Caine.
We have to get a warrant.
- Now!
- Nope. Now I don't care.
Car alarm! Come on!
What's the latest on the LVO transfer?
- Not here. The carpet!
- Sorry!
Guns on the table.
- Come on, boys!
- Do it!
All right. Now get up.
I said get up!
OK, Warren.
Now you and I are gonna have a talk.
Nice to see you again, Caine.
Just sit down, Warren.
You shouldn't have come here. Victor
didn't want to go to Rio till next month.
Place is packed.
- He had to fly coach!
- I didn't kill your boys, Warren.
- Bullshit!
- You're after the wrong guy.
For some reason,
you cops have called a drug war.
What, did we forget a payment
or something?
Our sales have gone
straight into the crapper.
- No bonuses this quarter!
- Drug war?
What the fuck are you talking about?
Why, why, why
am I even talking to this cop?
'Cause you're gonna kill him!
Oh, right.
Nothing personal, Caine. Just business.
- You're forgetting who's got the gun.
- I think I can come up with some leverage.
All right, Caine,
you've got two things to consider.
Come on, man, move it!
One, Victor wanted you dead
by the close of business today.
Two, we have a drop to make.
I ought to call it off, but we have
a serious cash-flow problem...
...so you're going to do it for me.
If anybody's gonna be killed,
I guess it's gonna have to be you.
Forget it.
Oh, you'll do it.
Or else you'll start to get
a very bad reputation for losing partners.
- You understand the drill, right?
- Just give it to me.
No mistakes, pal.
Hope you guys understand
you're in a lot of trouble.
Yes, sir, what can I do for you?
Don't be foolish.
Tell the White Boys to kiss my ass!
Come on!
What the fuck was that?
Goddammit, what happened?
Who was that?
- What's going on?
- Just shut up and let me think!
Who's this?
You're gonna tell me
what happened out there right now!
Just wait here and we'll go back
for the disc later.
Oh, fine, you go right ahead
and take your time!
Don't worry about me, I'm just here
at your goddam beck and call!
Mm-hm. I think so. Yeah. Maybe.
Excuse me, young lady,
emergency call, FBI.
You're not gonna believe
what just happened!
Thank you.
Do you have change for a dollar?
Hmm. I always thought
I'd be the one to wring your neck.
Cute. You wanna answer my question?
Yeah. Roughly speaking...
...heroin stimulates the pituitary
to make endorphins...
...a hormone that creates
an incredible sense of well-being.
Nature's Ecstasy.
So if you shot somebody up,
drilled a hole, and...
Theoretically, you'd have your hands
on a nearly perfect drug.
- Why theoretically?
- There's no way on earth to do it.
Nobody has the technology to preserve
or administer the stuff. Not yet, anyway.
Let me run it by you again, Operator.
I wanna place a collect call.
No, a collect call.
You're gonna think I'm crazy.
Don't let that stop you.
It hasn't yet, you know.
We're dealing with aliens,
and not from Mexico! Two of them.
One's the killer,
and the other one's on our side.
Listen, you work very hard.
Your mind and body require a rest
or they break down.
- I need you to listen to me.
- You need a psychiatrist, Jack!
Somebody had to be the first.
The first what, huh?
The first person to see aliens?
You don't have proof.
No one's gonna believe it.
I got the disc.
Come on.
What happened?
What do you think happened?
- The bastards stole the disc.
- Your pal! I knew this would happen!
I tried to lie. I swear it.
They knew I had it.
- Are you all right?
- I feel like I look.
- You look like shit!
- Look who's talking!
- Do you know who they were?
- I don't know.
Troglodytes with bad haircuts.
Looked like you, actually.
Why don't you shut up?
Terrific. Our one piece of evidence,
and it's gone!
What are you looking at?
- We're going to Malone.
- It's your career. Go ahead.
You gonna tell him we're fighting
drug dealers from outer space?
No shit, man, he had to be seven feet tall!
I saw him two blocks down the street.
Sure you did. Last week you saw
Jimi Hendrix at the laundromat.
Right. With a dryer full of tie-dyed shirts!
Man, there's a crazy motherfucker
running around... Oh, shit!
- Stay cool.
- That's him. That's the guy.
- I come in peace!
- Sure you do, tall guy!
Leave him alone!
Shit, what the fuck you doin', man?
- You're gonna back me up, right?
- Absolutely.
- Promise?
- No problem.
- Say what?
- I agree with you, sir, I agree 100%
- Caine is jumping to conclusions.
- You spineless son of a bitch!
- Are you testing me, Jack?
- It's true!
Then bring me some proof!
That disc you say you found.
- Somebody stole it.
- Yeah, sure!
Malone here. Yeah.
What? Where?
How many?
Your boy just killed two more people.
This time we have a witness.
Dee, tell Harper, Portland
and Mulroney to meet me at this address.
- Thanks!
- I've got a career to think about!
If you can't help, stay out of my way!
- Inspector Switzer says...
- That's two!
How many do I get?
- Why can't you understand...
- I'm the goddam coroner!
If I'm not authorised personnel, who is?
- I can't help you!
- I don't want you to help me!
Why am I talking to you?
You're Neanderthal.
There's no reason to get personal.
- What's going on here?
- Oh, Jack, thank God! This...
- Asshole?
- Thank you. This asshole won't let me in.
There are corpses in there
and I can't see the bodies.
- Detective Caine.
- The crime scene has been sealed.
I'll handle this, please.
What's the problem?
- Smith, FBI.
- You can all put your wallets away.
You're not getting in there!
- I think we are!
- I think not!
Come on.
- Frank, what's going on here?
- They got the place completely...
- I thought you were an FBI guy.
- I've never seen them before!
Isn't that your boss?
I'd like to talk to him. Dr Switzer!
Oh, it's OK. Let him through.
Where's that witness you were talking?...
There is no witness. Listen to me.
Don't talk, just listen!
It's all taken care of.
This case is closed. As of this moment...
...you are officially on vacation. Now beat it!
- What does "taken care of" mean?
- It means it's not our problem any more.
Get out of here!
Excuse me. Diane?
Come here for a second.
I've been put on vacation.
How about taking a trip?
A long one, just you and me.
Someplace we never heard of.
- What about my job, Jack?
- Take a vacation too!
- I can't.
- Then quit! Look at this!
- Don't tempt me, Jack. I'll do it!
- Go home, pack, then pick me up.
- Are you serious about this?
- I promise. Cross my heart!
Jack, mess with me on this one,
I'll have your lungs filled with water.
Hey! What's the matter,
aren't we friends any more, huh?
- Well, I guess that's it, huh?
- What did Switzer tell you?
- The whole story.
- Bullshit!
- I know what I need to know.
- All right, that's three!
You know the difference between you
and me? You don't fucking care!
- You just want to please.
- Fuck you! I do my job!
I respect my superiors,
that's the difference.
- I'm a team player.
- Well, your team sucks.
Holy shit!
He must be stopped!
You've some balls! Give us a second.
I never, ever wanna work with you again...
- Holy shit!
- Calm down! He's the one I told you about.
- Look! Look!
- He's on our side.
Let's get the hell out of here.
Holy shit!
Oh, man, he's bleeding.
- Who are you?
- An offcer of the law, like you.
- He speaks English!
- Stop him!
- What does he want?
- Blarcy, a priceless drug.
Where I'm from...
...rare and illegal, what you call endorphins.
- Just a lousy dealer!
- I don't believe any of this is happening!
He'll kill your people by the thousands
to get it cheaply.
- Where did you say you're from?
- Stop him!
If he returns, others will come.
It will be a slaughter.
He's at the storage place. Destroy it!
Near Quarterway.
- Could be the Fletcher building.
- You must promise me.
Promise me!
I promise.
At least we have something now,
you know?
- What?
- His body. We've got proof.
Shit! Goddammit! I got it.
Nothing much of him left.
- Christ! Did you see that?
- Almost burned my fuckin' face off!
- You all right?
- I'm all right. I got it!
I got his weapon.
Great. That's our proof.
- We take it to Malone and...
- Inspector Switzer has to see it first.
- Forget Switzer!
- You think Malone's gonna stop it?
- Switzer will stop it.
- No, he won't! Switzer is a liar.
Pretty soon he'll feed you that old line...
...about breaking eggs to make an omelette.
- Now, give me the gun.
- No.
- What do you mean, no? Come on!
- I said no!
Sorry, Jack. I'll use it.
You stupid fuck! You've been
a pain in the ass since the start.
Sorry you feel that way.
I'm taking this to Switzer.
I'm just doing my job.
Are you?
We're the good guys, Jack.
Somewhere along the line
you just forgot that. Know what I mean?
- You OK?
- Yeah!
Don't worry, you did the right thing.
You did a fantastic job
and your record will reflect that.
- First the disc and now this.
- What happens now, sir?
How is this going to be handled?
I'm surprised at you
asking so many questions.
- Been around Caine too much, I guess.
- No.
Well, suffice it to say that this will be
applied to the national interest.
That's something
I wanted to talk to you about, sir.
I won't ask you to remove Caine.
You've done enough.
Remove him? What are you talking about?
Don't be naive!
The military benefits of a successful
contact with this alien are enormous...
...and cannot be compromised by Caine,
who just wants to kill it!
As far as you're concerned,
this case is closed.
This alien's killing people.
Can't make an omelette
without breaking a few eggs.
Don't worry.
You get used to this kind of work.
Trust me.
Never trust nobody.
Caine manual, page one, chapter one.
- Thanks for helping me out back there.
- Forget it.
- You want to quit?
- No.
I'm kind of used to following procedure.
You know?
Right now I think we should just...
kick some ass.
Why did you follow me, anyway?
- You know how to use that gun?
- Yeah, sure. It's just a gun.
Oh, fuck!
- Hey, look.
- What?
Where you going?
Whew! Look at this shit.
Ow! Goddammit!
We're too late.
We missed him.
No, get out! I got him! I got him!
Go, go, go, go, go!
Come on!
- You OK? Give me that!
- No, I'll get it!
Dammit, it's stuck!
Get back! Get back!
Yeah, take that, you miserable son of a...
I got it! I got it!
- You all right?
- Did I get him? I think I got him.
- I think so.
- Where's that big son of a bitch?
Hell of a recoil, huh?
This baby can do some damage.
- Huh... Where is he?
- I don't know.
What is that? What is that?
Looks like we've got what he came for.
It's the endorphins.
Lucky son of a bitch! Ow! Ow!
One clear shot. That's all I needed. That
big, ugly bastard would have been history.
- What are you doing?
- I got an idea.
We don't want to invite him here.
- Where?
- Where you can have one clear shot.
You got a jacket in there for me?
- I thought you didn't like my clothes.
- Thanks.
We might need this.
Hey, it fits!
- It should. It was mine when I was twelve.
- Thank you.
Bring the spacegun, we're outta here.
- Oh!
- Diane?
- Quit screwing around, I'm packed.
- God, Diane!
- Yeah, Diane. What's going on?
- You've got to go home.
- We were going on vacation!
- Something came up.
Goddammit, Jack, I just quit my job!
- Do you understand that?
- I know. I can explain.
Careful, Caine,
don't let her get the upper hand.
Jack, tell me what the hell is going on!
Christ, who the hell is that?
- You fucked up, Caine!
- Shit, not now!
- Where's the money?
- That's it. These guys are level two.
Throw down your weapons. Now!
- I'm waiting for an explanation.
- It's complicated.
- I said drop 'em!
- Fuck you!
- Come on, let's get outta here!
- What the fuck?...
Who the hell is that?
- Get in the car!
- Go. Get in!
Start the car! Start the car!
15W9, proceeding north on Grand.
I need backup!
I'm being pursued by a blue-and-white!
- Who is that guy?
- Some asshole from outer space!
But there's nothing to worry about.
I've got this!
Oh, I see, a spacegun!
You guys are on top of things.
Look out!
Hey, look out.
Get back on the street!
Get back on the street!
Stay on the sidewalk!
Stay on the sidewalk!
Get out of the way!
Get out of the way! Be careful!
You in the police car!
Pull your vehicle over immediately!
You are driving a municipal vehicle
without authorisation!
Pull it over. Now!
Shit! He's still with us!
I'm gonna toast this clown!
Oh, yeah!
Oh, shit!
- Upstairs?
- Yeah. Let's go!
Keep moving, Smith, up that ladder.
All right, up there, Smith.
Your one clear shot.
I'm right behind you. Hurry!
There he is!
OK, let's push this all the way to four.
Come on! Come on!
He's going for it.
Lights out!
- Fuck!
- It's empty.
Smith, it's empty! Let's get outta here!
Get outta here!
Move, move, move!
Go, go, go!
What are you doing? Come on.
Get the hell outta here!
Come on, let's go! Move it!
That's good! Come on, let's go!
Watch your step.
Hold it!
Let her go!
I said let her go!
I win!
Fuck you, spaceman!
Oh, God, are you all right?
Let me at him!
I come in peace!
And you go in pieces, asshole!
- Jack!
- Come on!
- Hell of a night, huh?
- Yeah... Ow!
- Glad I softened him up for you.
- Yeah. Nice work, Smith!
- What the hell is your first name?
- Arwood.
- My friends call me Larry.
- Nice work, Smith!
- Can we please go on vacation now?
- I promised, didn't I?
- Where are we going, anyway?
- Well, I was thinking of Rio.
No, no! No!