Running Man, The (1987) Movie Script
Yankee Nine-niner,|what are your coordinates?
Above release point|Echo Bravo One.
Move in and check it out.
Roger. Moving in.
Food riot in progress.
Approximately 1,500 civilians.
No weapons evident.
Proceed with Plan Alpha.
Eliminate anything moving.
I said the crowd is unarmed.
There are lots of women and children.|All they want is food!
As you were, Richards!
Proceed with Plan Alpha.|All rioters must be eliminated.
The hell with you!|I will not fire on helpless people.
Abort mission.|We return back to base.
- Lieutenant Sanders, do you copy?|- Affirmative.
Take command, detain Richards|and proceed as ordered.
Richards, what the fuck are you doing?
Shit! Get him!
Goddamn it!
We're pitching over!
I got it.|I got control.
He said detain him.|Don't drop him.
Richards, you're gonna fry for this.
And I'll see you in hell.
Come on. Keep digging.
What's the holdup?
This one's had it.
Watch the detonator.
Get that garbage out of here.
Move!
Hey, Charlie. Did you see|The Running Man last night?
I never miss it.
I even won 500 bucks.
You lucky bastard.
Work crew coming through.|Prisoner transfer to post.
Okay, hang on.|Lenny, this is the eighth perimeter.
Fresh meat just got here.|Shut down the deadline.
Affirmative.|Shutting down now. Stand clear.
Access code pending.
Verified. Perimeter deactivated.
Sonic deadline is down.
- Okay, assholes. Move it.|- Let's go. Let's go.
Get out the lead or lose your head.|Come on!
East perimeter here. New prisoners|are all in compound. We're clear.
Affirmative.|Activating deadline.
What are you looking at?|Get out of here.
Sonic deadline is up.|Sonic deadline is up.
Prisoner restraint collars armed.
Prisoner restraint collars armed.
Give you a lift?
- Get it open!|- I got it!
- Repeat the codes.|- I did!
- You're hell of an actor, Laughlin.|- Who was acting?
You're still alive, aren't you?
- Repeat that code.|- Okay!
Weiss, what's the holdup?|Come on!
The linking computer|is denying the code.
The walls are blocking the signal.|It's not happening.
We try it outside. Move!
Let's go! Come on!
Get out of the way!
Open the gates!
Do it.
Shut off the deadline,|or we all lose our heads.
The system's blocked.|Must be an encryption lockout. Damn!
Perimeter deactivated.|Perimeter deactivated.
All right! All right!
Chico! Come back!
The deadline's still up.
He's not gonna make it.|That collar's gonna blow.
Sonic deadline is up.|Sonic deadline is up.
Prisoner restraint collars armed.
Prisoner restraint collars armed.
Sonic deadline is up.|Sonic deadline is up.
Prisoner restraint collars armed.|Prisoner restraint collars armed.
Perimeter deactivated.|Perimeter deactivated.
Zone passes are required at all times.
Display passes properly.
All interzone workers|with day passes...
are reminded that curfew|begins at midnight.
Anyone without a valid zone card|after midnight...
will be permanently detained.
Cadre kids, don't forget...
October is bonus recruitment month.
Earn a double bonus|for reporting a family member.
ICS, your entertainment|and information network...
reminds you, seeing is believing.
What's the number one|television show...
in the whole wide world?
The Running Man!
Yes!
Yes, it's The Running Man.
You guys want to buy a hot stereo?
- Stevie.|- Laughlin. Glad you guys made it.
Unstoppable network stalkers|give criminals...
traitors, and enemies of the state|exactly what they deserve.
Sundays, 8:00 to 11:00|on ICS Channel 1. Be there!
Produced in cooperation with the|Department of Justice, rights reserved.
The Running Man,|America's favorite game show.
A child, your child...
happy, loving, caring...
Can you believe this shit?|Twenty-four hours a day.
Seven days a week.
- Don't listen to it.|- I worry about the kids.
The network shuts down the schools.
The kids are either in hiding|or getting basic training.
Brainwashed by the TV.
We can jam the network once we find|the uplink to the satellite.
- Then we'll broadcast the truth.|- The truth?
Hasn't been popular lately.
Can't find the code or the uplink.
I don't know where the network|hid something that big.
But they managed.
Stevie, would you mind?
Good-bye, my lovely.
You're one of the cops|who locked up all my friends.
Burned my songs.
People like you took this country|and turned it into a jail.
- We don't want his death on our hands.|- He's a cop.
- He's the Butcher of Bakersfield.|- Come on, Mic.
You can see through that crap.|It's network propaganda.
We don't know that.
We know we wouldn't be here|if he hadn't helped us.
- We also know he's not one of us.|- Perhaps now he's seen too much.
I've seen too much? All I've seen|is a bunch of low foreheads...
who think they can change the world|with dreams and talk.
It's too late for that.
If you're not ready to act,|give me a break and shut up.
Nothing worth losing|your head over, though, huh?
You got it.
Hey, get out of here!
Well, there's your ride.|It's all set.
Nothing like first class.
Come in.|Seorita, do you want to come in?
Yeah. Hey, you too!
I guess this is it.
Now you, Weiss, stay out|of the national database, okay?
And you, Laughlin, stop trying to teach|the Constitution to the street punks.
- See you at the 10-year reunion.|- You can still join us.
No, thank you. My brother's|gonna get me out of the city.
I'm not into politics.|I'm into survival.
Nowadays, it's the same thing.
Save it for the written test.|Good luck.
Yeah, for all of us.
We need you, Damon!
Brenda, do you have this week's ratings,|or do I have to guess?
They're the same as last week,|and those were the same last month.
I guess we've just peaked.|But it's not like we've dropped.
"Not like we..."|You're beautiful, sweetheart.
- Sorry, Mr. Killian!|- That's all right. What's your name?
- Dan.|- Dan, you're doing good work.
- Don't worry. Okay?|- Thank you. Thank you.
Brenda, if that asshole|is mopping the floor tomorrow...
you'll be mopping it|for the rest of the week.
Let's go!
Security code accepted.
Damon, were you down in wardrobe yet?|Your new jackets are fantastic.
Who chose the colors?|Hey, how are my people today?
- Fine, sir. Thank you.|- You're looking good.
Tony, what do you got for me?
Damon, thank God! TheJustice|Department's calling every 10 minutes.
Just give them an evasive answer.|Tell them to go fuck themselves.
Got my coffee?
- I want to know what we got, all right?|- All right. Let's see.
Lights.
Oh, God.|Kitchen, toast and coffee.
ICS Channel One.
Are you ready for pain?|Are you ready for suffering?
If the answer is yes...
then you're ready for|Captain Freedom's workout.
Yes, it's America's own|Captain Freedom.
Ten-time national champion. The greatest|stalker to ever play the game.
All right now, all you runners.|Ready, get set, go!
We interrupt Captain Freedom's workout|to bring you this urgent news bulletin.
The city police are engaged|in a door-to-door search...
for Benjamin A. Richards,|known as the Butcher of Bakersfield.
Richards, a former police officer,|was the helicopter pilot...
who went berserk 18 months ago,|firing without warning...
on a crowd of innocent civilians.
If you see this man,|do not approach him.
Contact your local block warden.|He is considered armed and dangerous.
Don't make a sound. Understand?|Who are you? A friend of my brother's?
- What are you talking about?|- This is his apartment.
I moved in last month. They told me|the last tenant was taken away for...
- Yes?|- For reeducation.
Help!
Asesino in my house! El Butcher|of Bakersfield's in my bathroom!
That's the ticket.|No pain, no gain.
Let go of me! Let me go!
Now, listen to me.|I'll only say this once.
This is all a lie. I was framed.|I'm completely innocent.
- Yeah, sure.|- Now be quiet and stay still...
and I'm out in five minutes.
Hi, this is Amber.|I'm not home right now.
I'm out having a wonderful time with|glamorous people in a fabulous place.
So, when you hear the tone, control|yourjealousy and leave your message.
- "Baby Face"March.|- Are you kidding me? Next!
How's this one? Case 114.|Schoolteacher.
Killed his wife and mother-in-law at a|faculty dinner party with a steak knife.
Yeah. See, I like that quality.
He's the sort that the neighbors say,|"Such a quiet man.
Never too busy to say hello."|But look at him.
He weighs 120 pounds.|He wouldn't last 30 seconds.
Who else?
What about those bank robbers?|The ones that made that suicide pact.
- Did they commit suicide?|- Obviously not, Damon.
Then they're unreliable.
I got a friend at a talent agency.|Maybe they've got an axe murderer.
Hello, gorgeous.
- Somebody with stamina.|- Tony!
Pipe that feed in here now.
Take a look at this.|This is yesterday's prison break.
Look.
Look at that mother move.
- Is he beautiful? Who is he?|- Are you kidding? That's Ben Richards.
The cop from the massacre?
Sensational! Perfect contestant.|I want him.
- Can't have him.|- Why not?
You know our contract.|We never get military prisoners.
Who's a military prisoner?|He's still at large.
Yeah? Well, they'll get him for me.
Cadres can't have it both ways.
They want ratings? I can get|10 points for his biceps alone.
Hello, this is Killian.
Get me theJustice Department,|entertainment division.
No, hold that. Operator?
Get me the president's agent.
What is this?
That's my synthesizer setup.
I'm a musician.
Well, I'm really a singer.
I write music for the network.|Have you heard their theme song...
"We Bring You Joy, We Bring You Strife"?|I wrote that.
You must be very proud of yourself.
It's really nothing.
Look at this.
They're all on the censored list.
And look what we have here.
This looks like black-market clothing.
- And you wrote the network jingle.|- Come on. Everybody does it.
Money.
That's what I need.|Money.
Money's not going to do you any good.|You don't have a travel pass.
You do.
Now I do.
Let's see.
Now, where should we go?
Maybe someplace warm.|I need to work on my tan anyway.
You get so pale in prison.
There you are.
Good.|Now, I'm going to untie you.
And then you're gonna get dressed.
And then you're gonna come with me.
Oh, yeah?|Well, why should I?
Because I'm going to say please.
Well, why didn't you say so?
All flights to Pretoria, Tutuville|and Mandelaburg are on schedule.
Flights to Anaconda, Chile,|are delayed several hours.
All Mideast flights are canceled|until further notice.
You'll never pull this off.
You are unarmed, outnumbered.
Face it, you're screwed.
So why don't you forget about all this|and turn yourself in?
You know...
you have a very negative attitude.
Now remember, I can break your neck|like a chicken's.
Travel pass.
What a beautiful day today.
I can practically taste|those pia coladas.
- Right, sweetheart?|- Miss?
You didn't put it|in your purse again, did you?
Last vacation she put my credit cards|in there, and we couldn't find them.
- Here. Could you hold this, please?|- You want to move it up there?
We got a plane to catch.
Go on! Go on!
You can't live with them...
- and you can't live without them.|- This is ridiculous!
I'm warning you, I get sick...
air sick, car sick.
I'm gonna throw up all over you.
Go ahead. It won't show|on this shirt.
Help!|He's Ben Richards!
He's trying to kidnap me!|Help!
Positive ID.|Benjamin A. Richards.
Priority-one fugitive.|All units, terminal seven.
All right. We're on him.|Close in!
Go! Go! Move!
You move and you're dead!
Hi, cutie pie.
You know, one of us|is in deep trouble.
You know who I am?
I've seen you before.
You're the asshole on TV.
That's funny. I was gonna say|the same thing about you.
I saw the video of your prison break.|Sensational.
Ben, I think we might be able|to help each other out.
I've got the brains,|and you've got talent.
You've got more.|You've got talent...
you've got charisma,|and you've got balls.
That's why I pulled a few strings|to get you here.
And that's why...
I'd like you to volunteer to appear...
on tomorrow's broadcast|of The Running Man.
Fuck you.
You're a brilliant conversationalist.|A trifle limited, but brilliant.
Take a look.
Isn't that your old|schoolteacher buddy there? Huh?
There's your other buddy|who helped you in the prison infirmary.
Weiss. Laughlin.|What are you gonna do with them?
Well, that's really|up to you, Ben.
You see, I created The Running Man,|but I don't make the rules.
I got a contract|with the government.
They send me the convicts,|I put them on the show. You've seen it.
You know at least|you've got a chance.
But your buddies, Ben...
get the B list.
So if you don't do|The Running Man tomorrow...
Weiss and Laughlin...
are gonna go on...
in your place.
What do you say?
We'll see how far this clown runs|when we're done with him.
Starting barium IV.
That's a go.
Reading all systems down the line.
Your bird is singing|loud and clear.
All systems check out.
Mandibular restraint.
Interphalangic injection.
Deltoid I M injection.
- Procedure completed.|- Takes care of him.
Sons of bitches!
He's wrapped.|Knock him out till show time.
These guys never stop competing.
I get thirsty just watching them,|and in my line of work...
I can't afford that filled-up feeling.
That's why I drink Cadre Cola.
It hits the spot.
The capture of renegade police officer|and mass murderer Ben Richards...
was filmed yesterday|by runway security cameras.
Richards's hostage, Amber Mendez,|was unharmed.
Some airport personnel|were not so lucky...
like the ticket agent and security guard|Richards shot at point-blank range...
when he arrived at the airport.
- But that's not true.|- They were taken to Cadre Hospital...
where they remain|in guarded condition.
And now, back to|Climbing for Dollars.
Mr. Richards.
I'm your court-appointed|theatrical agent.
It's time.
And digital effects number one.
Roll process mod.
Okay, you guys.|Hey, here we are.
Hey, over here! Here!
Big crowd tonight.
Better there than in the streets.
Who's your number one stalker?
Hey, Buzzsaw!|Slice those runners for me!
He touched me! You guys see that?|Buzzsaw touched me!
Don't touch the hair!
Go!
Look, do you have any more change?|I ran out.
- Yes.|- Six dollars. Jesus, this place...
You're lucky to be alive.|I mean, that guy, he's killed, what...
- Not according to him, he hasn't.|- That's what they all say.
"Whereas the victim contests this...
and whereas network and victim|have in past been combatants...
ad hoc de facto...
the parties herein|have agreed to disagree.
This is mutually consented|to be de jure...
and therefore parties have certain|obligations to each other.
Respective rights and obligations..."
Boy.
Lucky he didn't kill you too...
or rape you and kill you...
or kill you, then rape you.
"Conflicts between your estate..."
I mean, a guy like that...
what would stop him?
Yeah.
What would?
Look, Amy, I have to|pass on that drink.
I just remembered|I have some paperwork to do.
- I'll catch you tomorrow, okay?|- The producer of The Running Man...
and everyone's favorite showman...
Damon Killian!
Yeah! Thank you!|You're beautiful!
I love you. Yes!
You're beautiful!
Thank you!
Shh!
It's...
show time!
Yeah!
All right! Now, tell me.
What's the number one|television show...
in the whole wide world?
The Running Man!
And who loves you,|and who do you love?
Damon!
One more time!
Damon!
Yes!
Phil, my announcer.
I heard the warm-up today,|and I got to tell you...
honestly, Phil, I don't think|I've ever heard you funnier.
I'm just kidding, guys.|You're great at yourjob.
Too bad it isn't music.
"Ad infinitum for cassettes...
videotapes, bubble chips...
and all other methods|of recordings known or unknown."
Sign here.
Here, here.|Use my back, victim.
Don't forget to send me a copy.
The love of my life,|my number one fan...
Mrs. McArdle!
- How you doin'?|- Just fine.
I want a big kiss, now,|but remember, no tongues.
- Bless you.|- Sit down, little darling.
We have one hell|of a show for you tonight.
Phil, please, if you will...
introduce tonight's|guest runner...
and watch that screen.
Our star runner tonight|needs no introduction.
He's Ben Richards...
the brutal slayer of 60 men,|women and children...
in the Bakersfield Massacre.
Food riot in progress.
Approximately 1,500 civilians.
Moving in.
Yankee Nine-niner,|the crowd is unarmed.
Repeat, unarmed.|Abort attack.
- Acknowledge, Yankee Nine-niner.|- The hell with you.
Lt. Sanders, take command.|Detain Richards and return to base.
Acknowledge, Yankee Nine-niner.|Acknowledge! Return to base!
Those are innocent, unarmed people|down there! Cease fire! Cease fire!
Well, we all know|the aftermath...
grieving parents...
orphaned children...
and a nation shocked to its very core.
Here he is...
ready to pay the price|for our home audience...
in person...
the Butcher of Bakersfield!
Now, Ben Richards|could have gone to prison...
but instead, he volunteered|for The Running Man.
- Risking everything for a chance...|- Excuse me.
At our fabulous prizes, like a trial|byjury, suspended sentence...
maybe even a full pardon...
like our previous winners|Whitman, Price and Haddad!
You remember them.|Whitman, Price and Haddad!
There they are!|And at this very moment...
they're basking under the Maui sun...
their debt to society...
paid in full.
Speaking of prizes, you don't have to be|a menace to society to be a winner...
'cause you folks in the audience|will get a chance too.
Phil, tell our friends|what they can win today.
Damon, how about a year's supply|of Orthopure Procreation Pills...
adult and kiddie sizes, and the latest|edition of The Running Man home game.
Ben, I know you're dying to|get into that game zone...
and show us the same determination|you showed up in Bakersfield.
Well, first, I've got|a little surprise for you.
We all know|you're a big, tough guy, Ben...
but that doesn't mean|you're a loner.
And it takes a big man to admit|that he needs his friends.
We didn't want to break up|a winning team...
so here they are,|ready to go for broke...
right by your side.
Ladies and gentlemen,|Ben's buddies...
Harold Weiss and William Laughlin.
Son of a bitch!
You know how this works.
The game zone is divided|into 400 square blocks...
left over from the big quake of '97.
I don't think any of us|will ever forget that.
Once inside the zone,|the runners have three hours.
They've got to go|through all four game quads.
Three hours or less,|and they're gonna need every second.
- 'Cause you know who's on their tail?|- The stalkers!
- Who?|- The stalkers!
And you know what happens then!
Anything goes!
- What?|- Anything goes!
Right!|Without further ado...
it's time to start running!
On your marks, get set...
Killian.
I'll be back.
Only in a rerun.
Go!
- Go!|- You son of a bitch!
Go!
Yes!
All systems go.
Vacuum sleds passing checkpoint one.
"Edited for television."
"Raw footage."
Edith Wiggins, come on down!
Whoa, whoa, Edith.
You look like you might have done|a little stalking yourself.
All right. Now, we need you|to give me the name...
of the stalker that we send out to hunt|down those three desperate criminals.
Give me 10 seconds, please.
Come on, come on.|Place your bets.
Dynamo, 3 to 1.
Time's up.
No more bets.
Back off! Come on!
I don't know.|They're all so good.
Quickly!
My husband and my little boy|have their favorites.
- But I like my men big and cuddly.|- Yeah? Who is it?
Subzero!
All right! Okay!
We're looking for Subzero!
Yeah!
And now, our first stalker|of the evening...
a Cadre trophy champion|with over 30 lifetime kills.
Let's welcome the incredible iceman,|who slices his enemies limb from limb...
into quivering, bloody sushi...
Professor Subzero!
Damon, here in the locker room...
there's a lot of excitement here,|a lot of adrenaline.
The stalkers know there's 400 square|blocks of game zone out there...
and anything can happen|in the next three hours.
- I remember once when I was...|- Sorry, Cap. Just been informed...
the runners have entered the first quad.
Let's go there now, live!
- Faster!|- Get going.
Come on. Bring your money.|Give it to me!
First blood. You pay your money,|you make your choice.
Hey. How about you?
It's cold.
What is this?
I guess they want us to stay.
Subzero does it again!
A triple hit!
Let's get out of here!
Weiss, come on! Go!
Oh, look at this.|An ICS home video. Yeah!
And The Running Man...
home version right here for you.
Get me out of here, you guys!
Hang on, Weiss. I'm coming.
Come on, big boy!
Get me out of here, you guys!
Will, look out!
Kill that son of a bitch!
Come on! Yeah! Yeah!
Hey, Killian!
Here is Subzero.
Now plain zero.
Ladies and gentlemen,|this is... just horrible.
Words can't express|what we're all feeling...
at this very moment.
A great champion has fallen.
We'll be back|right after these important messages.
Pull!
- You all right?|- Yeah. Boy.
What the hell is that?
- It's gas.|- Let's get out of here.
Sure glad we took care of Subzero.
Yeah, he was a real|pain in the neck.
Huh?|I know a stalker died.
Well, it had to happen|sooner or later.
Yeah, well, it is|a contact sport, right?
Yes, but you guys atJustice,|you cannot have it both ways.
You want ratings, you want people|in front of the TV sets...
instead of picket lines.
Well, you ain't gonna get that|with reruns of Gilligan's Island.
Gilligan's Island.
Yeah, the one with the boat.
Buzzsaw! Buzzsaw! Buzzsaw!
Fireball! Fireball!
Yeah, Buzzsaw!
Leon.
I don't know.|I think maybe Dynamo...
but Buzzsaw was|last year's champion.
- I can't decide.|- Then don't decide, Leon.
Hard decisions|call for hard solutions.
And here are two hard asses|ready to step in and take charge.
You asked for 'em, Leon.|You got 'em.
Here they are...|Buzzsaw and Dynamo!
Phil, tell us all about|this champion tag team.
Let's give a down-home welcome|to Buzzsaw Eddie Vatowski...
last season's leading stalker.
Buzzsaw's|Hammond and Gage chain saws
are made of|Trilon-coated Durasteel...
and can cut muscle, sinew, bone|or even solid steel!
- Well?|- The ratings just jumped eight points.
- Eight?|- Make that nine.
- I love Ben Richards.|- Want another surprise?
What?
Remember the girl|who was with Richards at the airport?
- The one with the cute ass?|- This is cuter.
They just caught her downstairs.|She was pulling the Bakersfield video.
Would you please welcome...
- Sensational.|- Our third stalker, Dynamo!
Thank you. You're beautiful. It's been|an exciting show so far, right?
We've had shocks,|we've had surprises.
And we thought,|"Why not one more surprise?"
Will you please help me welcome|our mystery contestant...
Miss Amber Mendez!
Let me go!
Amber!|Now, I understand...
that you're single, Amber...
and that you live on the west side.
Not surprisingly,|she's flaunted the law...
and traditional morality|all of her life.
Go ahead.|Tell some lies about me now.
We don't lie.|Phil, tell us all about her.
- It's clear. Come on.|- Weiss, what is it?
The camera relay.|It's pointing into the zone, not up.
Who gives a damn?
Hey, where are you going?
Later, she cheated on college exams...
had sexual relationships with two...
sometimes three different men|in a year...
and then she met|"Mad Dog"Ben Richards...
her confederate, her lover.
That was a lie!
Dear, dear, dear.|Let's reunite these little lovebirds.
Go!
It's got to be here somewhere.
- Want to tell me what is going on?|- All the relays are the same.
They point into the middle of the game|zone. Sooner or later they'll connect...
which means the uplink|to the network satellite is in there.
No wonder Mic's people couldn't find it.|No one ever comes out here.
If we find that uplink,|we can crack the code.
We'll get it to Mic,|and he'll jam the network.
- Jam the network?|- That's right.
Jam it up your ass.|Forget this crazy business.
You're gonna get us all killed.|We got to move on.
Let's go! Move!
Christ!
Stalkers, we've got a bead...
Come on, brothers!|Let's win one for the 'Zero!
"Uplinks. Underground."|"Uplinks. Underground."
You guys don't shut up,|I'm going to uplink your ass...
and you'll be underground!
Watch out! The lights!
- Let's get out of here!|- Shh!
Someone's coming.
Hey, Richards, wait!|It's Amber!
What the hell are you doing here?
You don't have to beat the crap out|of me! Think I'm glad to be here?
Who the hell is this?
She turned me in at the airport.|Guess this is her reward.
Yeah, go ahead. Make jokes.
It's your fault I'm here.
The police think I'm helping you out.|They even think I'm your girlfriend.
I can straighten that out.|See this camera up there?
I can strangle you|for the home audience.
- Another relay. Quick! It's around here.|- Weiss!
- What's he talking about?|- Come on. Let's go.
Weiss, over here!
Richards! Look out!
- You son of a bitch!|- Wait!
Richards, help!
- Yeah?|- Yeah. Let's go.
Give me your money. Okay.
Hey, man, what are you doing? Hey!
The resistance has been trying|to jam the network for five years.
This could be our chance.
- Let's go!|- No. This is more important.
- The uplink to the network satellite.|- But he's gonna find us.
Weiss, come on.
Over there.
Who loves you,|and who do you love?
Let me hear it.
You've got it.
Who loves you,|and who do you love?
Hang on. I've got you.
Run!|Get out of here!
Laughlin, get up!
Go! Go! Go!
Go! Go! Go!
- There you go, Leon.|- Oh, wow! Yeah!
The Running Man home game.
It's okay, man.
Don't worry. Don't worry.|You'll make more money.
Let's get out of here.|He's gonna find us.
- Jackpot!|- What are you doing? Weiss?
What are you doing?
- What's this, Weiss?|- It's the uplink interface. Look out.
Great! Hexagonal Decode System.
Not impossible.|Just gonna take a little time.
- Your name is Amber, right?|- Yeah.
Okay, Amber. I need you|to remember these numbers.
We've got to get them|to Mic and the resistance.
All right. I will!|Then let's go!
Richards!
I love this saw.
This saw is part of me.
And I'm gonna make it part of you!
That's all right.
Keep it!
God!
Come on.
- 18, 24.|- 61.
B.
Say them.|Say them!
- Not yet.|- "Not yet"? What do you mean?
Four.
- Come to me, my love.|- Oh, my God.
No!
Let me go!|Richards!
Hey! Light head!
- Hey, Christmas tree!|- Richards!
Oh, shit!
All right!
Follow me, light bulb!
Got you!
Come on!
All right!
Oh, God!|I'm stuck!
Somebody, help me!
God, cut!|Go to commercials!
Jesus Christ!|I have no power.
Cut! Go to commercial!
Kill him!
I won't kill|a helpless human being.
Not even sadistic scum like you.
- Oh, my God!|- Boo!
Come on!
Do it!
What happened to Buzzsaw?
He had to split.
Hey, what an incredible battle!
Buzzsaw gone...
Dynamo down...
but the stalk isn't over|till the fat lady sings...
and the very last criminal...
Fireball,|report to wardrobe at once.
Fireball,|you're wanted in wardrobe.
And our half-time show!
Laughlin, break's over.
Come on.|Let's get going.
I'm going somewhere,|but not with you.
Buzzsaw took care of my...|traveling arrangements.
Oh, my God.
Weiss?
He's dead.
But he gave me the code.
The satellite uplink code.
The underground|has a broadcast center...
in quadrant four.
Take her.|Take her and the code to Mic.
Don't let us die for nothin'.
We're countin' on you.
Don't let us down.
I don't want to be|the only asshole in heaven...
Ben.
He saved my life.
It should be me down there.
We got him?|Hey, Ben?
I got to hand it to you, pal.
You got the whole network here|in an uproar.
They're shipping bicarb|to theJustice Department in crates.
So that's why this little call|is just between you and I.
It's not on the air.
Listen very carefully, Ben.
How would you like|a three-year contract, guaranteed...
a Cadre credit line...
and a beachfront condo?
Sound impossible?
Ben, that's the standard deal|for a network stalker.
I know real talent...
when I see it, Ben, and I'd hate|to see you get canceled tonight...
when you could go|the distance.
Say the word, Ben, and you could be|the one doing the stalking.
What do you think?
You cold-blooded bastard.|I'll tell you what I think of it.
I'll live to see you|eat that contract.
But I hope you leave|room for my fist...
because I'm going|to ram it into your stomach...
and break your goddamn spine!
Damon, it's for you.
- Who?|- It's the attorney general.
Get out. Everybody out.
Come on. Move.
Yes.
Fireball! Fireball!|Fireball! Fireball!
Come on, Fireball!
Let's go!
He's my hero!
There he goes.|Fireball's on his way.
And Dynamo's down but not out.|Back to you, Damon.
Hey! All right, Agnes.
Listen now. Big chance for you.|Win a whole lot of prizes.
You know we've still got|two crack stalkers out there, right?
Dynamo and Fireball.
Who do you think|will make the next kill?
Oh, boy.|That's a tough one.
Give it a try. You can do it.|Who do you think?
I think the next kill...
will be made by...|Ben Richards.
- She can't do that!|- Hold it.
Agnes. Richards is a runner.|You've got to pick a stalker.
I can pick anyone I choose...
and I choose...
Ben Richards.
That boy's|one mean motherfucker.
$200 on Richards!
Come on!|200 on Richards!
$200 on Richards!|Come on!
Just do it?
Yeah, just do it.|Write it down, man.
- You want it? You got it.|- Yeah. All right!
Place your bet! 2-5!
Secret broadcast center, my ass! I don't|know what Laughlin was talking about.
There's nothing out here.
Me and my big mouth! We should|have taken that trip to Hawaii.
I had the shirt for it,|but you fucked it up.
Jesus Christ!
Guess again.
You're dead, sucker!
Come on. Keep up.
I'm running too fast.|My feet can't keep up!
There he goes!|The number-one rusher!
He smells blood...
and nothing on earth|is gonna stop him!
Wait. I don't want to go.
Here. This way.
Why here?|I want to go that way.
Let go of me.|Put me down.
You're going to get us killed.
Stop it!
Let me go!
Burn 'em good!
Amber, get out of here!
Go! Now!
Amber!
Richards.
Richards.
Richards.
Whitman.
And Price.
Haddad.
They're Running Men.
Last season's winners.
No. Last season's losers.
My gas line!|My gas line!
Go to commercial!
How about a light?
What a hothead.
- Bye-bye, Fireball!|- All right!
Yeah, Richards!
Captain Freedom to wardrobe|on the double.
Forget it, Killian!|I won't do it.
It's not a request, moron.|It's an order.
I don't need this crap.
This stuff is... garbage!
L...
I was killin' guys like this|ten years ago with my bare hands!
I'm not going|for any of these tricks.
This is a sport|of death and honor.
Code of the gladiators!
Will you spare me|the combat Zen speech.
What the hell's|the matter with you?
Can't you see what's going on|out there?
This isn't a game!
They're betting on|Richards up there!
Bullshit!
Get outta here!
Get him out of here!
What's the matter?|Steroids make you deaf?
Get him out of here now!
Now what?
Let's find Mic's|secret broadcast center...
if it even exists.
Oh, shit!
Let's try that way.
We're trapped.
Subzero...
Fireball...
and Buzzsaw.
Say their names|with reverent pride.
They punished crime|and served the law.
As patriots they died.
This is what I hate.|Third-act problems!
Roll...
stock.
Freeze in digital memory.
And...
Activate traveling matte.
Tony, this better work...
or you'll be a digital memory.
Take it easy, Damon.
We're loading Richards's image|onto the database.
When he's mapped onto the stunt double,|you'll never know the difference.
All right, boys.|Let's see you dance.
Sensational.|I love it!
Mr. Richards.
I'm surprised|you're so easily caught.
Welcome to the People's Network.|We've been waiting for you.
This is nice, Mic.
It would have been nicer if you'd gotten|off your asses and helped us out there.
We couldn't.
We'd have been seen, and the government|would have found this place.
Laughlin, Weiss|would have died for nothing.
They didn't.
I have the uplink code.
Ladies and gentlemen,|I'vejust got an update...
on tonight's incredible action.
The runners have entered|the final quad...
And Captain Freedom has hung up|his announcer's mike...
and come out of retirement.
He's suited up and ready|for the final conflict.
Let's go now, live,|to the game zone!
Yes! It's all over!|What a colossal fight!
This is an incredible moment|in sports.
Captain Freedom, out of retirement|and still undefeated champion.
Proving once again that right|and might are one and the same!
Damn that Killian!
What's wrong?|You should be happy.
We're officially dead.|We can go anywhere, do anything.
No. Don't you understand it?
They'll never let us out alive.|They can't afford it.
They'll get the police, the army|and hunt us down like dogs!
Off camera, of course.
Okay. Dismantle all the overlays.
Put the digital matte|in the pixel memory storage.
The damn thing|worked like a charm.
It should. Editel charged us|an arm and a leg for the software.
Damon!|You didn't have to kill him!
It's all a part of life's|rich pattern, Brenda...
and you better|fuckin' get used to it.
That's one for the awards show.
Thank you. You're doing nice work.|I thank you.
Tony, you're finally getting it.
Guns. You don't need guns|to jam a satellite.
I do. To keep it.
The minute I steal|the signal...
the network will try to shunt|the next one in orbit.
Stevie's group|is going inside to stop them now.
These kids?
This is a bad move, Mic.
They need a leader,|someone with experience.
I thought you|were looking for the door.
I told Killian|I'd be back.
I wouldn't want to be a liar.
Listen up, everybody.
I want you all|to consider yourselves picked up...
for the rest of the season.
What, are you my people|or an oil painting?
We're up nine points.
Come on, now.|Let's go, champ.
We're going to send|the uplink code in 20 minutes.
Ten seconds later,|I'll go on the air.
- We'll be ready.|- If you want to make an impression...
forget the speech.
Try this instead.
What is it?
The original video|from the Bakersfield Massacre...
before they edited|for broadcasting.
Where did you hide that?
It's none of your business.
Hey, what the hell?
Six minutes.
Begin satellite coding sequence.
Load uplink code|into transponder grid.
Shunt power to main circuits.
Mr. Spock, you have the conn.
Who's Mr. Spock?
Come on.|Let me hear it now.
Oh, yeah!
Welcome to the post-game|wrap-up show!
Ladies, I love you.
Thank you, young man.
Hello! You're on the air.
Hi, Damon. My name is Wendy.|I have a question about Dynamo.
- Is he seriously hurt?|- He's gonna be fine, love.
- Fortunately, it seems...|- Good luck.
Dynamo was still|under factory warranty.
You too.
You're on the air.
I feel bad|about the dead stalkers.
Is there any way I can make a donation|to help out their families?
What a darling you are.|Yes, my dove.
All you do is send your checks|to the Patriots' Fund...
care of this station...
Three...
two...
one.
That's it.|We got that baby!
Those contributions|are tax deductible.
And who loves you,|and who do you love?
Damon!
Yes! Yes! Yes!
Hey, what's going on?
We don't lie.
Like our previous winners...
Whitman, Price and Haddad.
You remember them.
There they are at this very moment...
basking under the Maui sun...
their debt to society|paid in full.
Watch...
that screen.
Yankee Nine-niner.|What's the status of the crowd?
Food riot in progress.
Approximately 1,500 civilians.
No weapons are evident.
Proceed with Plan Alpha.
- Eliminate anything moving.|- I said the crowd is unarmed.
There are lots of women|and children down there.
All they want is some food!
As you were, Richards!|Proceed with Plan Alpha.
All rioters must be eliminated.
The hell with you. I will not fire|at helpless human beings.
- Where's it coming from?|- The network satellite.
Abort mission.|Return to base.
Don't touch that dial.
Detain Richards|and proceed as ordered.
Richards, what are you doing?
Ladies and gentlemen!
If you'll please bear with us!
We're experiencing|technical difficulties!
Bullshit!
It's show time!
Get the people out!|Come on!
Thought it was pretty funny|out there in the zone.
What's the matter now, bitch?
Why aren't you laughing?
Because there's nothing funny|about a dickless moron...
with a battery up his ass!
Out! Out!
I'll show you dickless!
- Get out of my way!|- Get down! Down!
Let's go!
Hello, cutie pie.
One of us|is in deep trouble.
Sven, do you want to talk|to Mr. Richards?
Well?
I got to score some steroids.
You look pissed.
Believe me,|you got every right to be.
But, hey, will you|just let me explain?
This is television.|That's all it is.
It's nothing to do with people.|It's to do with the ratings.
For 50 years,|we've told them what to eat...
what to drink, what to wear.
For Christ's sake,|don't you understand?
Americans love television.
They wean their kids on it.
They love game shows,|they love wrestling.
They love sports and violence.
So what do we do?|We give 'em what they want!
We're number one, Ben.|That's all that counts.
Believe me. I've been|in the business 30 years.
I haven't been in show business|as long as you have...
but I'm a quick learner...
so I'm going to give the audience|what I think they want.
You bastard!|Drop dead!
I don't do requests.
No!
That hit the spot.
Yeah!
All right! Yeah!
Richards! Richards!|Richards! Richards!
Richards! Richards!|Richards! Richards!
The Running Man|has been brought to you by...
Breakaway Paramilitary Uniforms...
Orthopure Procreation Pill...
and Cadre Cola...|it hits the spot.
Promotional considerations|paid for by...
Kelton Flamethrowers...
Wainwright|Electrical Launchers...
and Hammond and Gage|Chain Saws.
Damon Killian's wardrobe|by Chez Antoine...
Cadre trooper|and studio guard sidearms...
provided by Colchester,|the pistol of patriots.
Remember, tickets for the ICS|studio tour are always available...
for class-A citizens|in good standing.
If you'd like to be a contestant|on The Running Man...
send a self-addressed,|stamped envelope...
to ICS Talent Hunt,|care of your local affliate...
and then go out|and do something really despicable.
I'm Phil Hilton.|Good night and take care.
Above release point|Echo Bravo One.
Move in and check it out.
Roger. Moving in.
Food riot in progress.
Approximately 1,500 civilians.
No weapons evident.
Proceed with Plan Alpha.
Eliminate anything moving.
I said the crowd is unarmed.
There are lots of women and children.|All they want is food!
As you were, Richards!
Proceed with Plan Alpha.|All rioters must be eliminated.
The hell with you!|I will not fire on helpless people.
Abort mission.|We return back to base.
- Lieutenant Sanders, do you copy?|- Affirmative.
Take command, detain Richards|and proceed as ordered.
Richards, what the fuck are you doing?
Shit! Get him!
Goddamn it!
We're pitching over!
I got it.|I got control.
He said detain him.|Don't drop him.
Richards, you're gonna fry for this.
And I'll see you in hell.
Come on. Keep digging.
What's the holdup?
This one's had it.
Watch the detonator.
Get that garbage out of here.
Move!
Hey, Charlie. Did you see|The Running Man last night?
I never miss it.
I even won 500 bucks.
You lucky bastard.
Work crew coming through.|Prisoner transfer to post.
Okay, hang on.|Lenny, this is the eighth perimeter.
Fresh meat just got here.|Shut down the deadline.
Affirmative.|Shutting down now. Stand clear.
Access code pending.
Verified. Perimeter deactivated.
Sonic deadline is down.
- Okay, assholes. Move it.|- Let's go. Let's go.
Get out the lead or lose your head.|Come on!
East perimeter here. New prisoners|are all in compound. We're clear.
Affirmative.|Activating deadline.
What are you looking at?|Get out of here.
Sonic deadline is up.|Sonic deadline is up.
Prisoner restraint collars armed.
Prisoner restraint collars armed.
Give you a lift?
- Get it open!|- I got it!
- Repeat the codes.|- I did!
- You're hell of an actor, Laughlin.|- Who was acting?
You're still alive, aren't you?
- Repeat that code.|- Okay!
Weiss, what's the holdup?|Come on!
The linking computer|is denying the code.
The walls are blocking the signal.|It's not happening.
We try it outside. Move!
Let's go! Come on!
Get out of the way!
Open the gates!
Do it.
Shut off the deadline,|or we all lose our heads.
The system's blocked.|Must be an encryption lockout. Damn!
Perimeter deactivated.|Perimeter deactivated.
All right! All right!
Chico! Come back!
The deadline's still up.
He's not gonna make it.|That collar's gonna blow.
Sonic deadline is up.|Sonic deadline is up.
Prisoner restraint collars armed.
Prisoner restraint collars armed.
Sonic deadline is up.|Sonic deadline is up.
Prisoner restraint collars armed.|Prisoner restraint collars armed.
Perimeter deactivated.|Perimeter deactivated.
Zone passes are required at all times.
Display passes properly.
All interzone workers|with day passes...
are reminded that curfew|begins at midnight.
Anyone without a valid zone card|after midnight...
will be permanently detained.
Cadre kids, don't forget...
October is bonus recruitment month.
Earn a double bonus|for reporting a family member.
ICS, your entertainment|and information network...
reminds you, seeing is believing.
What's the number one|television show...
in the whole wide world?
The Running Man!
Yes!
Yes, it's The Running Man.
You guys want to buy a hot stereo?
- Stevie.|- Laughlin. Glad you guys made it.
Unstoppable network stalkers|give criminals...
traitors, and enemies of the state|exactly what they deserve.
Sundays, 8:00 to 11:00|on ICS Channel 1. Be there!
Produced in cooperation with the|Department of Justice, rights reserved.
The Running Man,|America's favorite game show.
A child, your child...
happy, loving, caring...
Can you believe this shit?|Twenty-four hours a day.
Seven days a week.
- Don't listen to it.|- I worry about the kids.
The network shuts down the schools.
The kids are either in hiding|or getting basic training.
Brainwashed by the TV.
We can jam the network once we find|the uplink to the satellite.
- Then we'll broadcast the truth.|- The truth?
Hasn't been popular lately.
Can't find the code or the uplink.
I don't know where the network|hid something that big.
But they managed.
Stevie, would you mind?
Good-bye, my lovely.
You're one of the cops|who locked up all my friends.
Burned my songs.
People like you took this country|and turned it into a jail.
- We don't want his death on our hands.|- He's a cop.
- He's the Butcher of Bakersfield.|- Come on, Mic.
You can see through that crap.|It's network propaganda.
We don't know that.
We know we wouldn't be here|if he hadn't helped us.
- We also know he's not one of us.|- Perhaps now he's seen too much.
I've seen too much? All I've seen|is a bunch of low foreheads...
who think they can change the world|with dreams and talk.
It's too late for that.
If you're not ready to act,|give me a break and shut up.
Nothing worth losing|your head over, though, huh?
You got it.
Hey, get out of here!
Well, there's your ride.|It's all set.
Nothing like first class.
Come in.|Seorita, do you want to come in?
Yeah. Hey, you too!
I guess this is it.
Now you, Weiss, stay out|of the national database, okay?
And you, Laughlin, stop trying to teach|the Constitution to the street punks.
- See you at the 10-year reunion.|- You can still join us.
No, thank you. My brother's|gonna get me out of the city.
I'm not into politics.|I'm into survival.
Nowadays, it's the same thing.
Save it for the written test.|Good luck.
Yeah, for all of us.
We need you, Damon!
Brenda, do you have this week's ratings,|or do I have to guess?
They're the same as last week,|and those were the same last month.
I guess we've just peaked.|But it's not like we've dropped.
"Not like we..."|You're beautiful, sweetheart.
- Sorry, Mr. Killian!|- That's all right. What's your name?
- Dan.|- Dan, you're doing good work.
- Don't worry. Okay?|- Thank you. Thank you.
Brenda, if that asshole|is mopping the floor tomorrow...
you'll be mopping it|for the rest of the week.
Let's go!
Security code accepted.
Damon, were you down in wardrobe yet?|Your new jackets are fantastic.
Who chose the colors?|Hey, how are my people today?
- Fine, sir. Thank you.|- You're looking good.
Tony, what do you got for me?
Damon, thank God! TheJustice|Department's calling every 10 minutes.
Just give them an evasive answer.|Tell them to go fuck themselves.
Got my coffee?
- I want to know what we got, all right?|- All right. Let's see.
Lights.
Oh, God.|Kitchen, toast and coffee.
ICS Channel One.
Are you ready for pain?|Are you ready for suffering?
If the answer is yes...
then you're ready for|Captain Freedom's workout.
Yes, it's America's own|Captain Freedom.
Ten-time national champion. The greatest|stalker to ever play the game.
All right now, all you runners.|Ready, get set, go!
We interrupt Captain Freedom's workout|to bring you this urgent news bulletin.
The city police are engaged|in a door-to-door search...
for Benjamin A. Richards,|known as the Butcher of Bakersfield.
Richards, a former police officer,|was the helicopter pilot...
who went berserk 18 months ago,|firing without warning...
on a crowd of innocent civilians.
If you see this man,|do not approach him.
Contact your local block warden.|He is considered armed and dangerous.
Don't make a sound. Understand?|Who are you? A friend of my brother's?
- What are you talking about?|- This is his apartment.
I moved in last month. They told me|the last tenant was taken away for...
- Yes?|- For reeducation.
Help!
Asesino in my house! El Butcher|of Bakersfield's in my bathroom!
That's the ticket.|No pain, no gain.
Let go of me! Let me go!
Now, listen to me.|I'll only say this once.
This is all a lie. I was framed.|I'm completely innocent.
- Yeah, sure.|- Now be quiet and stay still...
and I'm out in five minutes.
Hi, this is Amber.|I'm not home right now.
I'm out having a wonderful time with|glamorous people in a fabulous place.
So, when you hear the tone, control|yourjealousy and leave your message.
- "Baby Face"March.|- Are you kidding me? Next!
How's this one? Case 114.|Schoolteacher.
Killed his wife and mother-in-law at a|faculty dinner party with a steak knife.
Yeah. See, I like that quality.
He's the sort that the neighbors say,|"Such a quiet man.
Never too busy to say hello."|But look at him.
He weighs 120 pounds.|He wouldn't last 30 seconds.
Who else?
What about those bank robbers?|The ones that made that suicide pact.
- Did they commit suicide?|- Obviously not, Damon.
Then they're unreliable.
I got a friend at a talent agency.|Maybe they've got an axe murderer.
Hello, gorgeous.
- Somebody with stamina.|- Tony!
Pipe that feed in here now.
Take a look at this.|This is yesterday's prison break.
Look.
Look at that mother move.
- Is he beautiful? Who is he?|- Are you kidding? That's Ben Richards.
The cop from the massacre?
Sensational! Perfect contestant.|I want him.
- Can't have him.|- Why not?
You know our contract.|We never get military prisoners.
Who's a military prisoner?|He's still at large.
Yeah? Well, they'll get him for me.
Cadres can't have it both ways.
They want ratings? I can get|10 points for his biceps alone.
Hello, this is Killian.
Get me theJustice Department,|entertainment division.
No, hold that. Operator?
Get me the president's agent.
What is this?
That's my synthesizer setup.
I'm a musician.
Well, I'm really a singer.
I write music for the network.|Have you heard their theme song...
"We Bring You Joy, We Bring You Strife"?|I wrote that.
You must be very proud of yourself.
It's really nothing.
Look at this.
They're all on the censored list.
And look what we have here.
This looks like black-market clothing.
- And you wrote the network jingle.|- Come on. Everybody does it.
Money.
That's what I need.|Money.
Money's not going to do you any good.|You don't have a travel pass.
You do.
Now I do.
Let's see.
Now, where should we go?
Maybe someplace warm.|I need to work on my tan anyway.
You get so pale in prison.
There you are.
Good.|Now, I'm going to untie you.
And then you're gonna get dressed.
And then you're gonna come with me.
Oh, yeah?|Well, why should I?
Because I'm going to say please.
Well, why didn't you say so?
All flights to Pretoria, Tutuville|and Mandelaburg are on schedule.
Flights to Anaconda, Chile,|are delayed several hours.
All Mideast flights are canceled|until further notice.
You'll never pull this off.
You are unarmed, outnumbered.
Face it, you're screwed.
So why don't you forget about all this|and turn yourself in?
You know...
you have a very negative attitude.
Now remember, I can break your neck|like a chicken's.
Travel pass.
What a beautiful day today.
I can practically taste|those pia coladas.
- Right, sweetheart?|- Miss?
You didn't put it|in your purse again, did you?
Last vacation she put my credit cards|in there, and we couldn't find them.
- Here. Could you hold this, please?|- You want to move it up there?
We got a plane to catch.
Go on! Go on!
You can't live with them...
- and you can't live without them.|- This is ridiculous!
I'm warning you, I get sick...
air sick, car sick.
I'm gonna throw up all over you.
Go ahead. It won't show|on this shirt.
Help!|He's Ben Richards!
He's trying to kidnap me!|Help!
Positive ID.|Benjamin A. Richards.
Priority-one fugitive.|All units, terminal seven.
All right. We're on him.|Close in!
Go! Go! Move!
You move and you're dead!
Hi, cutie pie.
You know, one of us|is in deep trouble.
You know who I am?
I've seen you before.
You're the asshole on TV.
That's funny. I was gonna say|the same thing about you.
I saw the video of your prison break.|Sensational.
Ben, I think we might be able|to help each other out.
I've got the brains,|and you've got talent.
You've got more.|You've got talent...
you've got charisma,|and you've got balls.
That's why I pulled a few strings|to get you here.
And that's why...
I'd like you to volunteer to appear...
on tomorrow's broadcast|of The Running Man.
Fuck you.
You're a brilliant conversationalist.|A trifle limited, but brilliant.
Take a look.
Isn't that your old|schoolteacher buddy there? Huh?
There's your other buddy|who helped you in the prison infirmary.
Weiss. Laughlin.|What are you gonna do with them?
Well, that's really|up to you, Ben.
You see, I created The Running Man,|but I don't make the rules.
I got a contract|with the government.
They send me the convicts,|I put them on the show. You've seen it.
You know at least|you've got a chance.
But your buddies, Ben...
get the B list.
So if you don't do|The Running Man tomorrow...
Weiss and Laughlin...
are gonna go on...
in your place.
What do you say?
We'll see how far this clown runs|when we're done with him.
Starting barium IV.
That's a go.
Reading all systems down the line.
Your bird is singing|loud and clear.
All systems check out.
Mandibular restraint.
Interphalangic injection.
Deltoid I M injection.
- Procedure completed.|- Takes care of him.
Sons of bitches!
He's wrapped.|Knock him out till show time.
These guys never stop competing.
I get thirsty just watching them,|and in my line of work...
I can't afford that filled-up feeling.
That's why I drink Cadre Cola.
It hits the spot.
The capture of renegade police officer|and mass murderer Ben Richards...
was filmed yesterday|by runway security cameras.
Richards's hostage, Amber Mendez,|was unharmed.
Some airport personnel|were not so lucky...
like the ticket agent and security guard|Richards shot at point-blank range...
when he arrived at the airport.
- But that's not true.|- They were taken to Cadre Hospital...
where they remain|in guarded condition.
And now, back to|Climbing for Dollars.
Mr. Richards.
I'm your court-appointed|theatrical agent.
It's time.
And digital effects number one.
Roll process mod.
Okay, you guys.|Hey, here we are.
Hey, over here! Here!
Big crowd tonight.
Better there than in the streets.
Who's your number one stalker?
Hey, Buzzsaw!|Slice those runners for me!
He touched me! You guys see that?|Buzzsaw touched me!
Don't touch the hair!
Go!
Look, do you have any more change?|I ran out.
- Yes.|- Six dollars. Jesus, this place...
You're lucky to be alive.|I mean, that guy, he's killed, what...
- Not according to him, he hasn't.|- That's what they all say.
"Whereas the victim contests this...
and whereas network and victim|have in past been combatants...
ad hoc de facto...
the parties herein|have agreed to disagree.
This is mutually consented|to be de jure...
and therefore parties have certain|obligations to each other.
Respective rights and obligations..."
Boy.
Lucky he didn't kill you too...
or rape you and kill you...
or kill you, then rape you.
"Conflicts between your estate..."
I mean, a guy like that...
what would stop him?
Yeah.
What would?
Look, Amy, I have to|pass on that drink.
I just remembered|I have some paperwork to do.
- I'll catch you tomorrow, okay?|- The producer of The Running Man...
and everyone's favorite showman...
Damon Killian!
Yeah! Thank you!|You're beautiful!
I love you. Yes!
You're beautiful!
Thank you!
Shh!
It's...
show time!
Yeah!
All right! Now, tell me.
What's the number one|television show...
in the whole wide world?
The Running Man!
And who loves you,|and who do you love?
Damon!
One more time!
Damon!
Yes!
Phil, my announcer.
I heard the warm-up today,|and I got to tell you...
honestly, Phil, I don't think|I've ever heard you funnier.
I'm just kidding, guys.|You're great at yourjob.
Too bad it isn't music.
"Ad infinitum for cassettes...
videotapes, bubble chips...
and all other methods|of recordings known or unknown."
Sign here.
Here, here.|Use my back, victim.
Don't forget to send me a copy.
The love of my life,|my number one fan...
Mrs. McArdle!
- How you doin'?|- Just fine.
I want a big kiss, now,|but remember, no tongues.
- Bless you.|- Sit down, little darling.
We have one hell|of a show for you tonight.
Phil, please, if you will...
introduce tonight's|guest runner...
and watch that screen.
Our star runner tonight|needs no introduction.
He's Ben Richards...
the brutal slayer of 60 men,|women and children...
in the Bakersfield Massacre.
Food riot in progress.
Approximately 1,500 civilians.
Moving in.
Yankee Nine-niner,|the crowd is unarmed.
Repeat, unarmed.|Abort attack.
- Acknowledge, Yankee Nine-niner.|- The hell with you.
Lt. Sanders, take command.|Detain Richards and return to base.
Acknowledge, Yankee Nine-niner.|Acknowledge! Return to base!
Those are innocent, unarmed people|down there! Cease fire! Cease fire!
Well, we all know|the aftermath...
grieving parents...
orphaned children...
and a nation shocked to its very core.
Here he is...
ready to pay the price|for our home audience...
in person...
the Butcher of Bakersfield!
Now, Ben Richards|could have gone to prison...
but instead, he volunteered|for The Running Man.
- Risking everything for a chance...|- Excuse me.
At our fabulous prizes, like a trial|byjury, suspended sentence...
maybe even a full pardon...
like our previous winners|Whitman, Price and Haddad!
You remember them.|Whitman, Price and Haddad!
There they are!|And at this very moment...
they're basking under the Maui sun...
their debt to society...
paid in full.
Speaking of prizes, you don't have to be|a menace to society to be a winner...
'cause you folks in the audience|will get a chance too.
Phil, tell our friends|what they can win today.
Damon, how about a year's supply|of Orthopure Procreation Pills...
adult and kiddie sizes, and the latest|edition of The Running Man home game.
Ben, I know you're dying to|get into that game zone...
and show us the same determination|you showed up in Bakersfield.
Well, first, I've got|a little surprise for you.
We all know|you're a big, tough guy, Ben...
but that doesn't mean|you're a loner.
And it takes a big man to admit|that he needs his friends.
We didn't want to break up|a winning team...
so here they are,|ready to go for broke...
right by your side.
Ladies and gentlemen,|Ben's buddies...
Harold Weiss and William Laughlin.
Son of a bitch!
You know how this works.
The game zone is divided|into 400 square blocks...
left over from the big quake of '97.
I don't think any of us|will ever forget that.
Once inside the zone,|the runners have three hours.
They've got to go|through all four game quads.
Three hours or less,|and they're gonna need every second.
- 'Cause you know who's on their tail?|- The stalkers!
- Who?|- The stalkers!
And you know what happens then!
Anything goes!
- What?|- Anything goes!
Right!|Without further ado...
it's time to start running!
On your marks, get set...
Killian.
I'll be back.
Only in a rerun.
Go!
- Go!|- You son of a bitch!
Go!
Yes!
All systems go.
Vacuum sleds passing checkpoint one.
"Edited for television."
"Raw footage."
Edith Wiggins, come on down!
Whoa, whoa, Edith.
You look like you might have done|a little stalking yourself.
All right. Now, we need you|to give me the name...
of the stalker that we send out to hunt|down those three desperate criminals.
Give me 10 seconds, please.
Come on, come on.|Place your bets.
Dynamo, 3 to 1.
Time's up.
No more bets.
Back off! Come on!
I don't know.|They're all so good.
Quickly!
My husband and my little boy|have their favorites.
- But I like my men big and cuddly.|- Yeah? Who is it?
Subzero!
All right! Okay!
We're looking for Subzero!
Yeah!
And now, our first stalker|of the evening...
a Cadre trophy champion|with over 30 lifetime kills.
Let's welcome the incredible iceman,|who slices his enemies limb from limb...
into quivering, bloody sushi...
Professor Subzero!
Damon, here in the locker room...
there's a lot of excitement here,|a lot of adrenaline.
The stalkers know there's 400 square|blocks of game zone out there...
and anything can happen|in the next three hours.
- I remember once when I was...|- Sorry, Cap. Just been informed...
the runners have entered the first quad.
Let's go there now, live!
- Faster!|- Get going.
Come on. Bring your money.|Give it to me!
First blood. You pay your money,|you make your choice.
Hey. How about you?
It's cold.
What is this?
I guess they want us to stay.
Subzero does it again!
A triple hit!
Let's get out of here!
Weiss, come on! Go!
Oh, look at this.|An ICS home video. Yeah!
And The Running Man...
home version right here for you.
Get me out of here, you guys!
Hang on, Weiss. I'm coming.
Come on, big boy!
Get me out of here, you guys!
Will, look out!
Kill that son of a bitch!
Come on! Yeah! Yeah!
Hey, Killian!
Here is Subzero.
Now plain zero.
Ladies and gentlemen,|this is... just horrible.
Words can't express|what we're all feeling...
at this very moment.
A great champion has fallen.
We'll be back|right after these important messages.
Pull!
- You all right?|- Yeah. Boy.
What the hell is that?
- It's gas.|- Let's get out of here.
Sure glad we took care of Subzero.
Yeah, he was a real|pain in the neck.
Huh?|I know a stalker died.
Well, it had to happen|sooner or later.
Yeah, well, it is|a contact sport, right?
Yes, but you guys atJustice,|you cannot have it both ways.
You want ratings, you want people|in front of the TV sets...
instead of picket lines.
Well, you ain't gonna get that|with reruns of Gilligan's Island.
Gilligan's Island.
Yeah, the one with the boat.
Buzzsaw! Buzzsaw! Buzzsaw!
Fireball! Fireball!
Yeah, Buzzsaw!
Leon.
I don't know.|I think maybe Dynamo...
but Buzzsaw was|last year's champion.
- I can't decide.|- Then don't decide, Leon.
Hard decisions|call for hard solutions.
And here are two hard asses|ready to step in and take charge.
You asked for 'em, Leon.|You got 'em.
Here they are...|Buzzsaw and Dynamo!
Phil, tell us all about|this champion tag team.
Let's give a down-home welcome|to Buzzsaw Eddie Vatowski...
last season's leading stalker.
Buzzsaw's|Hammond and Gage chain saws
are made of|Trilon-coated Durasteel...
and can cut muscle, sinew, bone|or even solid steel!
- Well?|- The ratings just jumped eight points.
- Eight?|- Make that nine.
- I love Ben Richards.|- Want another surprise?
What?
Remember the girl|who was with Richards at the airport?
- The one with the cute ass?|- This is cuter.
They just caught her downstairs.|She was pulling the Bakersfield video.
Would you please welcome...
- Sensational.|- Our third stalker, Dynamo!
Thank you. You're beautiful. It's been|an exciting show so far, right?
We've had shocks,|we've had surprises.
And we thought,|"Why not one more surprise?"
Will you please help me welcome|our mystery contestant...
Miss Amber Mendez!
Let me go!
Amber!|Now, I understand...
that you're single, Amber...
and that you live on the west side.
Not surprisingly,|she's flaunted the law...
and traditional morality|all of her life.
Go ahead.|Tell some lies about me now.
We don't lie.|Phil, tell us all about her.
- It's clear. Come on.|- Weiss, what is it?
The camera relay.|It's pointing into the zone, not up.
Who gives a damn?
Hey, where are you going?
Later, she cheated on college exams...
had sexual relationships with two...
sometimes three different men|in a year...
and then she met|"Mad Dog"Ben Richards...
her confederate, her lover.
That was a lie!
Dear, dear, dear.|Let's reunite these little lovebirds.
Go!
It's got to be here somewhere.
- Want to tell me what is going on?|- All the relays are the same.
They point into the middle of the game|zone. Sooner or later they'll connect...
which means the uplink|to the network satellite is in there.
No wonder Mic's people couldn't find it.|No one ever comes out here.
If we find that uplink,|we can crack the code.
We'll get it to Mic,|and he'll jam the network.
- Jam the network?|- That's right.
Jam it up your ass.|Forget this crazy business.
You're gonna get us all killed.|We got to move on.
Let's go! Move!
Christ!
Stalkers, we've got a bead...
Come on, brothers!|Let's win one for the 'Zero!
"Uplinks. Underground."|"Uplinks. Underground."
You guys don't shut up,|I'm going to uplink your ass...
and you'll be underground!
Watch out! The lights!
- Let's get out of here!|- Shh!
Someone's coming.
Hey, Richards, wait!|It's Amber!
What the hell are you doing here?
You don't have to beat the crap out|of me! Think I'm glad to be here?
Who the hell is this?
She turned me in at the airport.|Guess this is her reward.
Yeah, go ahead. Make jokes.
It's your fault I'm here.
The police think I'm helping you out.|They even think I'm your girlfriend.
I can straighten that out.|See this camera up there?
I can strangle you|for the home audience.
- Another relay. Quick! It's around here.|- Weiss!
- What's he talking about?|- Come on. Let's go.
Weiss, over here!
Richards! Look out!
- You son of a bitch!|- Wait!
Richards, help!
- Yeah?|- Yeah. Let's go.
Give me your money. Okay.
Hey, man, what are you doing? Hey!
The resistance has been trying|to jam the network for five years.
This could be our chance.
- Let's go!|- No. This is more important.
- The uplink to the network satellite.|- But he's gonna find us.
Weiss, come on.
Over there.
Who loves you,|and who do you love?
Let me hear it.
You've got it.
Who loves you,|and who do you love?
Hang on. I've got you.
Run!|Get out of here!
Laughlin, get up!
Go! Go! Go!
Go! Go! Go!
- There you go, Leon.|- Oh, wow! Yeah!
The Running Man home game.
It's okay, man.
Don't worry. Don't worry.|You'll make more money.
Let's get out of here.|He's gonna find us.
- Jackpot!|- What are you doing? Weiss?
What are you doing?
- What's this, Weiss?|- It's the uplink interface. Look out.
Great! Hexagonal Decode System.
Not impossible.|Just gonna take a little time.
- Your name is Amber, right?|- Yeah.
Okay, Amber. I need you|to remember these numbers.
We've got to get them|to Mic and the resistance.
All right. I will!|Then let's go!
Richards!
I love this saw.
This saw is part of me.
And I'm gonna make it part of you!
That's all right.
Keep it!
God!
Come on.
- 18, 24.|- 61.
B.
Say them.|Say them!
- Not yet.|- "Not yet"? What do you mean?
Four.
- Come to me, my love.|- Oh, my God.
No!
Let me go!|Richards!
Hey! Light head!
- Hey, Christmas tree!|- Richards!
Oh, shit!
All right!
Follow me, light bulb!
Got you!
Come on!
All right!
Oh, God!|I'm stuck!
Somebody, help me!
God, cut!|Go to commercials!
Jesus Christ!|I have no power.
Cut! Go to commercial!
Kill him!
I won't kill|a helpless human being.
Not even sadistic scum like you.
- Oh, my God!|- Boo!
Come on!
Do it!
What happened to Buzzsaw?
He had to split.
Hey, what an incredible battle!
Buzzsaw gone...
Dynamo down...
but the stalk isn't over|till the fat lady sings...
and the very last criminal...
Fireball,|report to wardrobe at once.
Fireball,|you're wanted in wardrobe.
And our half-time show!
Laughlin, break's over.
Come on.|Let's get going.
I'm going somewhere,|but not with you.
Buzzsaw took care of my...|traveling arrangements.
Oh, my God.
Weiss?
He's dead.
But he gave me the code.
The satellite uplink code.
The underground|has a broadcast center...
in quadrant four.
Take her.|Take her and the code to Mic.
Don't let us die for nothin'.
We're countin' on you.
Don't let us down.
I don't want to be|the only asshole in heaven...
Ben.
He saved my life.
It should be me down there.
We got him?|Hey, Ben?
I got to hand it to you, pal.
You got the whole network here|in an uproar.
They're shipping bicarb|to theJustice Department in crates.
So that's why this little call|is just between you and I.
It's not on the air.
Listen very carefully, Ben.
How would you like|a three-year contract, guaranteed...
a Cadre credit line...
and a beachfront condo?
Sound impossible?
Ben, that's the standard deal|for a network stalker.
I know real talent...
when I see it, Ben, and I'd hate|to see you get canceled tonight...
when you could go|the distance.
Say the word, Ben, and you could be|the one doing the stalking.
What do you think?
You cold-blooded bastard.|I'll tell you what I think of it.
I'll live to see you|eat that contract.
But I hope you leave|room for my fist...
because I'm going|to ram it into your stomach...
and break your goddamn spine!
Damon, it's for you.
- Who?|- It's the attorney general.
Get out. Everybody out.
Come on. Move.
Yes.
Fireball! Fireball!|Fireball! Fireball!
Come on, Fireball!
Let's go!
He's my hero!
There he goes.|Fireball's on his way.
And Dynamo's down but not out.|Back to you, Damon.
Hey! All right, Agnes.
Listen now. Big chance for you.|Win a whole lot of prizes.
You know we've still got|two crack stalkers out there, right?
Dynamo and Fireball.
Who do you think|will make the next kill?
Oh, boy.|That's a tough one.
Give it a try. You can do it.|Who do you think?
I think the next kill...
will be made by...|Ben Richards.
- She can't do that!|- Hold it.
Agnes. Richards is a runner.|You've got to pick a stalker.
I can pick anyone I choose...
and I choose...
Ben Richards.
That boy's|one mean motherfucker.
$200 on Richards!
Come on!|200 on Richards!
$200 on Richards!|Come on!
Just do it?
Yeah, just do it.|Write it down, man.
- You want it? You got it.|- Yeah. All right!
Place your bet! 2-5!
Secret broadcast center, my ass! I don't|know what Laughlin was talking about.
There's nothing out here.
Me and my big mouth! We should|have taken that trip to Hawaii.
I had the shirt for it,|but you fucked it up.
Jesus Christ!
Guess again.
You're dead, sucker!
Come on. Keep up.
I'm running too fast.|My feet can't keep up!
There he goes!|The number-one rusher!
He smells blood...
and nothing on earth|is gonna stop him!
Wait. I don't want to go.
Here. This way.
Why here?|I want to go that way.
Let go of me.|Put me down.
You're going to get us killed.
Stop it!
Let me go!
Burn 'em good!
Amber, get out of here!
Go! Now!
Amber!
Richards.
Richards.
Richards.
Whitman.
And Price.
Haddad.
They're Running Men.
Last season's winners.
No. Last season's losers.
My gas line!|My gas line!
Go to commercial!
How about a light?
What a hothead.
- Bye-bye, Fireball!|- All right!
Yeah, Richards!
Captain Freedom to wardrobe|on the double.
Forget it, Killian!|I won't do it.
It's not a request, moron.|It's an order.
I don't need this crap.
This stuff is... garbage!
L...
I was killin' guys like this|ten years ago with my bare hands!
I'm not going|for any of these tricks.
This is a sport|of death and honor.
Code of the gladiators!
Will you spare me|the combat Zen speech.
What the hell's|the matter with you?
Can't you see what's going on|out there?
This isn't a game!
They're betting on|Richards up there!
Bullshit!
Get outta here!
Get him out of here!
What's the matter?|Steroids make you deaf?
Get him out of here now!
Now what?
Let's find Mic's|secret broadcast center...
if it even exists.
Oh, shit!
Let's try that way.
We're trapped.
Subzero...
Fireball...
and Buzzsaw.
Say their names|with reverent pride.
They punished crime|and served the law.
As patriots they died.
This is what I hate.|Third-act problems!
Roll...
stock.
Freeze in digital memory.
And...
Activate traveling matte.
Tony, this better work...
or you'll be a digital memory.
Take it easy, Damon.
We're loading Richards's image|onto the database.
When he's mapped onto the stunt double,|you'll never know the difference.
All right, boys.|Let's see you dance.
Sensational.|I love it!
Mr. Richards.
I'm surprised|you're so easily caught.
Welcome to the People's Network.|We've been waiting for you.
This is nice, Mic.
It would have been nicer if you'd gotten|off your asses and helped us out there.
We couldn't.
We'd have been seen, and the government|would have found this place.
Laughlin, Weiss|would have died for nothing.
They didn't.
I have the uplink code.
Ladies and gentlemen,|I'vejust got an update...
on tonight's incredible action.
The runners have entered|the final quad...
And Captain Freedom has hung up|his announcer's mike...
and come out of retirement.
He's suited up and ready|for the final conflict.
Let's go now, live,|to the game zone!
Yes! It's all over!|What a colossal fight!
This is an incredible moment|in sports.
Captain Freedom, out of retirement|and still undefeated champion.
Proving once again that right|and might are one and the same!
Damn that Killian!
What's wrong?|You should be happy.
We're officially dead.|We can go anywhere, do anything.
No. Don't you understand it?
They'll never let us out alive.|They can't afford it.
They'll get the police, the army|and hunt us down like dogs!
Off camera, of course.
Okay. Dismantle all the overlays.
Put the digital matte|in the pixel memory storage.
The damn thing|worked like a charm.
It should. Editel charged us|an arm and a leg for the software.
Damon!|You didn't have to kill him!
It's all a part of life's|rich pattern, Brenda...
and you better|fuckin' get used to it.
That's one for the awards show.
Thank you. You're doing nice work.|I thank you.
Tony, you're finally getting it.
Guns. You don't need guns|to jam a satellite.
I do. To keep it.
The minute I steal|the signal...
the network will try to shunt|the next one in orbit.
Stevie's group|is going inside to stop them now.
These kids?
This is a bad move, Mic.
They need a leader,|someone with experience.
I thought you|were looking for the door.
I told Killian|I'd be back.
I wouldn't want to be a liar.
Listen up, everybody.
I want you all|to consider yourselves picked up...
for the rest of the season.
What, are you my people|or an oil painting?
We're up nine points.
Come on, now.|Let's go, champ.
We're going to send|the uplink code in 20 minutes.
Ten seconds later,|I'll go on the air.
- We'll be ready.|- If you want to make an impression...
forget the speech.
Try this instead.
What is it?
The original video|from the Bakersfield Massacre...
before they edited|for broadcasting.
Where did you hide that?
It's none of your business.
Hey, what the hell?
Six minutes.
Begin satellite coding sequence.
Load uplink code|into transponder grid.
Shunt power to main circuits.
Mr. Spock, you have the conn.
Who's Mr. Spock?
Come on.|Let me hear it now.
Oh, yeah!
Welcome to the post-game|wrap-up show!
Ladies, I love you.
Thank you, young man.
Hello! You're on the air.
Hi, Damon. My name is Wendy.|I have a question about Dynamo.
- Is he seriously hurt?|- He's gonna be fine, love.
- Fortunately, it seems...|- Good luck.
Dynamo was still|under factory warranty.
You too.
You're on the air.
I feel bad|about the dead stalkers.
Is there any way I can make a donation|to help out their families?
What a darling you are.|Yes, my dove.
All you do is send your checks|to the Patriots' Fund...
care of this station...
Three...
two...
one.
That's it.|We got that baby!
Those contributions|are tax deductible.
And who loves you,|and who do you love?
Damon!
Yes! Yes! Yes!
Hey, what's going on?
We don't lie.
Like our previous winners...
Whitman, Price and Haddad.
You remember them.
There they are at this very moment...
basking under the Maui sun...
their debt to society|paid in full.
Watch...
that screen.
Yankee Nine-niner.|What's the status of the crowd?
Food riot in progress.
Approximately 1,500 civilians.
No weapons are evident.
Proceed with Plan Alpha.
- Eliminate anything moving.|- I said the crowd is unarmed.
There are lots of women|and children down there.
All they want is some food!
As you were, Richards!|Proceed with Plan Alpha.
All rioters must be eliminated.
The hell with you. I will not fire|at helpless human beings.
- Where's it coming from?|- The network satellite.
Abort mission.|Return to base.
Don't touch that dial.
Detain Richards|and proceed as ordered.
Richards, what are you doing?
Ladies and gentlemen!
If you'll please bear with us!
We're experiencing|technical difficulties!
Bullshit!
It's show time!
Get the people out!|Come on!
Thought it was pretty funny|out there in the zone.
What's the matter now, bitch?
Why aren't you laughing?
Because there's nothing funny|about a dickless moron...
with a battery up his ass!
Out! Out!
I'll show you dickless!
- Get out of my way!|- Get down! Down!
Let's go!
Hello, cutie pie.
One of us|is in deep trouble.
Sven, do you want to talk|to Mr. Richards?
Well?
I got to score some steroids.
You look pissed.
Believe me,|you got every right to be.
But, hey, will you|just let me explain?
This is television.|That's all it is.
It's nothing to do with people.|It's to do with the ratings.
For 50 years,|we've told them what to eat...
what to drink, what to wear.
For Christ's sake,|don't you understand?
Americans love television.
They wean their kids on it.
They love game shows,|they love wrestling.
They love sports and violence.
So what do we do?|We give 'em what they want!
We're number one, Ben.|That's all that counts.
Believe me. I've been|in the business 30 years.
I haven't been in show business|as long as you have...
but I'm a quick learner...
so I'm going to give the audience|what I think they want.
You bastard!|Drop dead!
I don't do requests.
No!
That hit the spot.
Yeah!
All right! Yeah!
Richards! Richards!|Richards! Richards!
Richards! Richards!|Richards! Richards!
The Running Man|has been brought to you by...
Breakaway Paramilitary Uniforms...
Orthopure Procreation Pill...
and Cadre Cola...|it hits the spot.
Promotional considerations|paid for by...
Kelton Flamethrowers...
Wainwright|Electrical Launchers...
and Hammond and Gage|Chain Saws.
Damon Killian's wardrobe|by Chez Antoine...
Cadre trooper|and studio guard sidearms...
provided by Colchester,|the pistol of patriots.
Remember, tickets for the ICS|studio tour are always available...
for class-A citizens|in good standing.
If you'd like to be a contestant|on The Running Man...
send a self-addressed,|stamped envelope...
to ICS Talent Hunt,|care of your local affliate...
and then go out|and do something really despicable.
I'm Phil Hilton.|Good night and take care.