Alien Nation (1988)

[bunniefuu]

(reporter) The military

have escorted them down...

It looked like a door was opening.

I don't think it is.

- This is not a hoax. That is real out there.

- It's silver-grey in colour...

(newsreader) That was the scene in

California's Mojave Desert three years ago.

The historic frst view of the Newcomer ship

upon its dramatic arrival.

These "Newcomers", we soon learned,

were a genetically-engineered race

adapted for hard labour

in almost any environmental condition.

In effect, their ship was a sl*ve ship,

washed ashore on Earth, with no way

to get back to where they came from.

Now that civil liberties attorneys have had

the Newcomers released from quarantine,

what are the reactions in

communities where they've settled?

Why do we have to take them?

Why can't they go to Russia?

I'll drink to that!

I'm in college now. I'm going to be

going to school with nine- or ten-year-olds.

There goes the grade curve.

There goes my job future.

I have to compete with... If a ten-year-old is

twice as smart as me... I'll be workin'here.

By far the strongest words of acceptance

came from then-president Ronald Reagan.

We've come to a turning point,

a moment for hard decisions.

If not us, who?

And if not now, when?

Hey, Henry, how you doin' tonight?

You workin' hard?

You get your green card, buddy?

Slagtown. I hate this place. Look at that geek.

I hate it. Look at this crap.

- I wonder if their plumbing's the same.

- Yeah, it is.

What? Oh, man, get outta here.

I don't trust 'em, that's all.

Good day... (belches)

Take a hike, will ya? Jesus Christ!

God, that stink!

Why has it gotta be sour milk they get wasted

on? Why not Jack Daniel's or Thunderbird?

What's wrong with that?

Look at this. Fred Astaire and Ginger Slag.

What the hell's that?

Look at this. They call this a game.

It's a circle-jerk.

Cowboys and Slags.

They make up sh*t. I don't know what that is.

Beatin' each other to death.

So are you gonna go

or are you not gonna go?

How do I go?

Put on your wash-and-wear suit,

clip-on bow tie,

have your landlady tie your shoes for you,

then you show up at the church. It's simple.

- Me and Carol are going.

- That's nice.

Come on, now. We've known Kristin since...

well, since she was conceived.

Remember? Up in that cabin at Big Bear?

You and Edie pounded the walls so hard,

me and Carol picked plaster

out of our hair for a week.

I don't know, Tug.

Obviously, I want to go to

Kristin's wedding, but I don't...

You're just bummed out because your ex-wife

and her new husband are payin' for it.

If Kristin had to get married where I could

afford it, it would be beans in a bowling alley.

- Now does that look suspicious or what?

- Whatever gave you that idea?

This is one-Henry-seven.

We got a possible 2-11 in progress.

Porter's Minimarket on Virginia and Court.

Request backup.

Come on, forget that sh*t. Let's go.

- Listen.

- Mm-hm?

Pay attention. Tell me what those

ugly b*stards are doin' in there.

- Two gentlemen. Long, black raincoats.

- Long, black raincoats.

Two gentlemen. Long, black raincoats.

With long, black shotguns.

Oh, that's no good.

That's not very good at all.

- Have you got your vest?

- Of course. In the trunk of the car.

- That's where mine is. I feel better now(!)

- Yeah.

Well, I'm gonna go across the street

and get a better angle on that door.

- Yeah, you watch your a*s.

- You watch my a*s.

(shouts in alien language)

(shouts in alien language)

Oh, sh*t.

Freeze! Hey, freeze!

(woman screams)

Tug! Get outta there!

I can't! Do you mind?

Tug! Go ahead, I'll cover ya!

OK...

Oh, sh*t!

- What's happenin'?

- Hi there, sir. How are you?

Do you mind stepping out here for a second?

We got a bit of trouble.

(speaks alien language)

Tug... Oh, sh*t.

Stop!

(machine-g*n fre)

(running footsteps)

(shouts in alien language)

(siren approaches)

Whoa, whoa! Take it easy!

- Are you OK?

- I'm all right.

I'd better call this in.

Ow, my hand.

Are you all right?

God, I hate you.

Get outta here!

I don't need your g*dd*mn help.

Take it easy, will ya?

(policeman) Except for the magazine,

it looks like a standard 12-gauge.

- So how come it went clean through the car?

- BRI sabot slugs. These puppies are nasty.

Tug might as well have been

hidin' behind a rosebush.

Heavy stuff for knocking off a minimarket.

An identical round was used in the sh**ting

of a Newcomer named Hubley two days ago.

- Yeah, but how come?

- Francisco, give me a hand. She won't budge.

Hey, listen. Do you think

there's a connection?

Hey!

Up yours.

- (answer phone beeps)

- (woman) Hello, Daddy?

Dad, are you there?

Pick up the phone, please.

I really need to talk to you.

Daddy, why are you being so stubborn?

Can't you just forget about your

hassles with Mom? It's my wedding.

I mean, come on! You gotta be there.

I already worked it out with Tug.

Nothing is gonna stop him from

dragging you to that church on Sunday.

It's at 2.30, and please don't be late.

I love you, Daddy.

I shouldn't have said that. Now you're

gonna pull this tape out and save it.

- Bye.

- (beep)

This is Mark Helfrey from the gas company,

Mr Sykes. Your bill is past due...

Matt.

- Oh, Matt, I'm sorry, man.

- Yeah, thanks.

- What did you dig up?

- Jesus, Sykes, it's not even been ten hours.

Me and Alterez are on it, OK?

Yeah. That makes me real happy.

Ever tried to make a case in Slagtown?

The list of Newcomer informants is about

as long as a list of Mexican w*r heroes.

Hey, come on!

Nobody talks to nobody down there.

Half of 'em don't even speak English.

The other half, only when it suits 'em.

No, it's gonna take some time.

Yeah, I know it'll take time with you two.

Nobody wanders off.

I've got an announcement.

You OK, Sykes?

I'll make it short. This is a directive from

Chief Evaner, on orders from the mayor,

under mandate from the Federal

Bureau of Newcomer Relations.

As of nine this morning,

one Newcomer uniform officer

has been promoted to

the rank of detective, third grade.

We've got him, gentlemen. Volunteers for

duty with the detective, see me in my office.

Otherwise... I will choose a volunteer myself.

That's all.

(detective) What'll he do if he gets

too many volunteers? Draw straws?

(Alterez) How long has this Slag been

on the force anyway? A year max, right?

I was in uniform eight years

before I became detective.

(detective) I don't know about you guys,

but I won't take this. I'm callin' the union.

Where the hell's he going?

- Bob.

- Yeah, Sykes?

Yeah, I'd like to volunteer for duty

with the new, uh...

- Um, you know...

- Look, Matt...

You don't have to jump right back in.

Why don't you take a few days, relax?

I'd like to stay on, thanks.

All right.

Detective Sergeant Sykes,

Detective Francisco.

- We have met.

- Yeah, right.

Victor Goldrup, Mayor's Office.

Congratulations, gentlemen.

You won't be investigating

Bill Tuggle's death, you know.

- Leave that to Fedorchuk.

- Right. Procedure.

- You?

- Yes, sir.

There is a case I'd like to take on, though.

A homicide, a Newcomer named Hubley.

- Granger and Pitts are already on it.

- Yeah, right.

But Granger and Pitts,

they got a full case load.

I thought, what with Francisco here,

the first Newcomer plain clothes,

and what with the body being found

in the Newcomer community, you know...

- Don't tell me what to think.

- (Goldrup) He's got a point.

It's exactly what we need for this

early-advancement programme.

(exhales)

All right, all right.

We work my hours. I do the drivin',

and you do the paperwork.

- You gotta learn it, so you can do it all.

- I'd like to thank you for what you are doin'.

What's that? Oh, wait, wait.

- Let me get somethin' straight in your head...

- You want cream and sugar?

No, I wanna get somethin' straight

in your head. We are not pals.

We're not gettin' married,

takin' long walks together.

And don't call me "Sergeant".

Call me "Sykes" or "Matt" if you got to.

I am Samuel. Would you like a doughnut?

Change your mind?

Sam Francisco? Sam Francisco?

No, I ain't buyin' that. I'm not buyin' that.

I'm not gonna introduce you

to people as "Sam Francisco".

I think I'll call you "George". George?

- OK.

- OK.

Oh, they hung one on you!

I heard a lot of good ones before,

like Humphrey Bogart, Harley Davidson...

I guess they got punchy after

giving names to a quarter million people.

Let me ask you somethin'.

Were you at the back of the line?

Oh, no. My true name is

Ss'tangya T'ssorentsa.

- Well, gesundheit. I'll call you "George".

- Fine.

- I didn't know which paper you like...

- I find it difficult to drive and read.

- Wait a minute.

- I got you your cigarettes.

Where did you get this? What is this stuff?

- Wait. What is this?

- That is a car deodoriser.

That's mine.

Anyway, what's it bother you if we think

your name's funny? It doesn't, right?

That is exactly so. It is like your name.

"Sykes"? I'm sure it doesn't bother you

that to us it sounds just like "ss'ai k'ss",

two words in my language

which mean "excrement" and "cranium".

Shithead.

Why don't you go ahead? I'll be right in.

Hey, Maff. So what do you got for me?

You said you wanted

the biggest thing I could find.

And this... is it.

- What in the hell's this?

- .454 Casull.

We're talking twice the impact energy

of a.44 Magnum hotload.

It only holds five.

The shells are too big for six in a cylinder.

Hell, Matt, you only need one.

No, two. Thanks.

How long you been shootin'?

That's pitiful. g*dd*mn pitiful!

What are you gonna do in a sh**t-out?

Wave your scores in your exams at 'em?

- Why'd you do it?

- Why'd I do what?

Agree to work with me. You don't like me,

or any of us. You have only contempt for us,

and yet you make yourself an outcast

by making me your partner.

My partner is dead.

He's dead cos one of you b*stards k*lled him,

then crawled down some rathole in Slagville.

You're gonna help me find that ugly Slag

son of a b*tch. You understand me?

That's awfully pretty, huh?

Bring my g*n.

Let's talk Hubley here.

His body was discovered three days ago in

an alley off Central Avenue near downtown.

- With two sabot slugs in his chest.

- Through the chest.

- Through the chest.

- Rupturing primary and secondary hearts.

Hey, nice signal, dickhead!

He was employed at the Consolidated

Petrochemical Refinery in Torrance.

He was manager of a methane facility, and

a principal partner in a real-estate venture

to develop low-cost housing for Newcomers.

Newcomers. That's terrific.

Real pillar of the community.

- Was he ripped off?

- Pardon me?

Was he missing anything

when they found him?

Oh. Property.

He had no wallet, but he was

still wearing a watch and two rings.

Those guys last night at the minimart made

a half-assed stab at the money in the till.

I don't think that's what they were there for.

We got a couple of executions on our hands.

- The m*rder at the minimart is not our case...

- Whoa, whoa!

It is my desire not to break with procedure.

(horns blaring)

- What's wrong?

- Wrong?

- Nothing. What should be wrong?

- Nothing.

- What's wrong with you? Parkin' in...

- Hey, up yours!

You do agree that there's a good chance

these two shootings are related, don't you?

Yes, quite possibly.

Would you also be willing to accept

the theory, George, that, quite possibly,

by examining the evidence of one case,

we might shed a little light on the other?

- Does that sound unreasonable to you?

- Yes.

No, it is not unreasonable,

although it is not a good...

Good, good. I'm so glad

we got that settled, aren't you?

I think we're really

startin' to click here, George.

Give me what you got.

I've been over all this

with Fedorchuk and Alterez.

Come on, you got nothin' better to do,

a soft county job like yours.

Yeah, right(!) Don't push your luck.

According to the sheet, the guy you nailed

outside by the car, this one here,

he was one Martin Helder,

white male, aged 27.

One armed-robbery conviction,

two for sale of controlled substance,

and the guy was wired on coke

when you stopped his clock.

- Have you identified this one?

- He's a John Doe. Or a Sam Slag, if you like.

There's no ID on him and no fingerprints,

so it could be tough.

Lucky for you, you got him in both of his...

what we loosely call "hearts".

- (Sykes) Lucky I emptied a whole clip in him.

- That's how these people are.

You don't hit both pumps,

you just piss 'em off.

(in alien language)

It looks like the miners' disease.

Hey... what's goin' on?

- Nothing.

- Nothin'?

(in alien language)

Run blood tests and keep it between us.

Got an extra head shot if you need one.

We're about ready to cut in.

You're welcome to stick around.

It's fascinating stuff.

- Yeah, I'll bet.

- Let's look at their personal effects.

What is this?

What's that? It's a rubber.

It's... you know, a condom.

Coney Island whitefish, you know?

Um... men, human men...

they put 'em on their penises to...

to protect 'em from havin' babies.

Understand?

Uh, excuse me.

Do you need this for anything?

Nope. I got my own.

She has her own.

Here.

See? You get the picture?

And that fits?

Yeah, only it's made of rubber. It stretches.

And still it fits?

What's this stuff here?

It is a resin. Newcomers working

near methane gases at oil refineries

must paint it on their boots

to protect against sparks.

- How the hell do you know that?

- Many of us were hired by refineries

because the methane fumes are not

harmful to us. My spouse's brother is one.

So... the Slag they're cuttin' into upstairs,

he worked at a refinery,

and Hubley, he worked at a refinery.

I guess that "possible" connection's gettin' a

hell of a lot more possible, wouldn't you say?

I guess the next thing is for me

to talk to the store owner's wife.

I believe I should speak to the widow alone.

All right, you talk to the widow alone.

I'll check out the refinery. Hey, thanks, huh?

- What about this Hubley guy?

- He was all right, a damn good manager.

I'm gonna have to hustle to fill his shoes.

The men really liked him.

Apparently, one of 'em didn't like him

so much. Here, give this a look.

- You think this is the guy who did it?

- Yeah, we think so. Do you know him?

It's hard to say. I hate to admit it,

but they all look alike to me.

- Wait a minute.

- What?

- You know who this looks like?

- No.

Anderson, James Anderson.

He's not in today. He took the afternoon off.

Yeah? Well, I think you're gonna find

that he took the rest of his life off.

- What?

- Is this where he worked?

Yeah, right in there.

Hold it! There's 35%

pure methane gas in there.

I don't know how these fellas do it.

Yeah.

- Thanks.

- Anything I can do.

I appreciate it.

(in alien language)

I need your help, Mrs Porter.

(in alien language) I will try.

Can you identify these Newcomers?

No, but my son might.

(radio DJ) Here's an oldie but goodie from

(sounds horn)

(speaking alien language)

Welcome back, Ozzie and Harriet.

Well?

- One second.

- We're not even moving.

Safety first.

- Bye-bye!

- Do you have to yell in my ear?

- Sorry.

- Did you learn anything?

Yes. Mrs Porter is not taking

her husband's death very well.

She identified one of the men from

a photo I showed her. It was Warren Hubley.

All right. What about the other guy?

She did not know,

but she thought perhaps her son might.

- Have you talked to him?

- No.

He's not been home since that day,

but she told me where I could find him.

- Who's this guy we gotta go see?

- William Harcourt, an associate of Hubley's.

(shouts in alien language)

Our guest speaker tonight

has done so much in his community.

He certainly has come quite far

in the last few years.

Granted, not as far as he came

in the years before reaching Los Angeles.

As mayor of this city,

it gives me great pleasure to introduce

someone who has so readily

made our city his home.

Ladies and gentlemen... William Harcourt.

(applause)

(speaks alien language)

I'm particularly grateful

because I actually had the gall

to write in my notes:

"Thank you all for a very warm reception."

Lmagine how embarrassed I'd have been

if it hadn't been such a warm reception.

(applause)

Excuse me. Mr William Harcourt?

- Yes.

- Good.

I'm Detective Sergeant Sykes,

this is Detective... Francisco, LAPD.

Sergeant. Detective.

I wasn't aware there were any Newcomers

at the rank of detective yet.

- I am the first, sir.

- Congratulations.

This is my assistant, Rudyard Kipling.

Rudyard Kipling? No sh*t!

We need some information about a

business associate of yours, Warren Hubley.

Ah, poor Warren. Tragic.

Yeah, wasn't it? I understand

that you and he were partners

in some Slag... Newcomer real-estate thing.

That's right. He and I

and seven or eight others.

William!

I was wondering if you wouldn't

rather ride with Luisa and me?

Excellent idea. Ray, I wonder if you know

two of your officers. Detectives...

- Sykes.

- Sykes and Francisco.

- How do you do, sir?

- Pleasure.

I think we really should be going.

Feel free to call my office

Monday morning for an appointment.

Congratulations again

on your promotion, Detective.

Remember, you're out there

setting an example in our community.

I shall be keeping an eye on you.

He's gonna keep an eye on you.

(in alien language) Sykes was the one

who chased us and k*lled Anderson.

(in alien language)

You're lucky he didn't recognise you.

What if he talks to Strader?

Mr Strader's change of heart

is dangerous. Find him.

- (Sykes) I could go to Berlitz for ten years...

- 6.42.

Excuse me.

- Here.

- I've got it.

How long did it take you to learn English?

- Three months.

- Three months?

We learn quickly. We adapt.

It is our strength, what we were bred for.

I got a neighbour and she's got this kid

who's got a Newcomer girl in the class.

The kid is six years old

and she's in the seventh grade.

Can you imagine that? Thanks a lot.

It's amazing, totally amazing.

Oh, my God. I got yours. Here.

What is that? Raw what? What kind is that?

This? This is beaver.

- What?

- Beaver. It's tasty.

- I'm sure.

- Would you like to try some?

- Not on a bet.

- I always tell my son

"How do you know you don't like it

if you won't even try it?"

Let me ask you somethin'.

Would it really put you out badly

if you put it under the grill,

just for a minute or two?

Our bodies do not assimilate the nutrients

if the food has been cooked. Please.

That's very attractive(!) We're gonna go talk

to people and you've got fur in your teeth.

Very attractive(!)

("Scary Monsters" by David Bowie)

The store owner's widow

thought we'd find her son here.

Just stay behind me.

Hey, just pay attention, you understand?

Let me handle it. Watch.

Yo!

Which one of you Slags is Porter?

Yo! Who wants to know?

- Who said that?

- At the end of the bar.

Are you Porter?

Are you Porter?

No, Matthew.

I believe this is the one you want.

Is that right?

- Um, Matthew...

- Hey, butt out. I told you I'd handle it.

- But...

- Hey, zip it!

Are these questions a little difficult?

I'll start with something easier.

Is your name Porter?!

- (speaks alien language)

- (laughter)

"Screw you."

Yeah, well, that can't be right.

(speaks alien language)

- You don't want to know.

- Come on. Tell me.

"Your mother mates out of season."

Oh, yeah?

(laughs)

Don't they teach you anything about us

in cop school, little ss'loka?

You jerk-off...

Hey, George. George?

That's enough.

(in alien language) You smell like a human.

(in English) A cop. It fits you.

(in alien language) I'm sorry about

your father. Help us find his K*llers.

We can talk outside.

- Do you know this guy?

- From quarantine.

When we first arrived,

we were housed together.

Your mother says Hubley and your father

were involved with another Newcomer.

Did you know this other guy

that was with Hubley?

- Yeah.

- Yeah?

High-roller dude named... Strader.

Joshua Strader.

He runs a club on the West Side.

- What club?

- Encounters.

- Yeah, I know thatjoint.

- Look, it's all I know.

- If you want any more, ask somebody else.

- Yeah, right.

He's a pleasant guy.

- If I may make a suggestion...

- Yeah, what?

We have different weak spots than you do.

Next time, a blow to the nerve plexus,

under the arm, here,

will produce the effect

I think you were looking for.

I knew that.

Look what he did to my flashlight.

Look at this. Come on.

- Any progress?

- Our arms are gettin' tired. So far, zip.

I understand you've been

resisting my offer, Mr Strader.

Your sense of duty is noble, but...

no longer an issue, I'm afraid.

I will not make this offer again.

I would like you to work for me,

distributing ss'jabroka to our people.

If you do, you will know wealth and comfort

our people never dared imagine.

(in alien language) I won't do it!

I can't let the nightmare start again.

Such a pity to lose one's life...

for an outmoded value.

Mr Quint, I believe it's time

for our friend's swimming lesson.

(shouts in alien language)

It's important to practise new skills -

essential for your growth as a person.

You've never seen this before.

You ain't gonna believe it!

Sea water's like battery acid to these guys.

(screaming in alien language)

Now he won't be talking to those cops,

the two who came to question you.

This is getting out of hand.

I want you to deal with it.

Immediately.

(screaming)

We must learn to embrace the things we fear.

("Sympathy for the Devil"

by Jane's Addiction)

Please allow me to introduce myself

I'm a man of wealth and taste

Been around for a long, long year

Stole many a man and sealed his fate

I was around when Jesus Christ

Had his moment of doubt and pain

Made damn sure that Pilate

Washed his hands and sealed his fate

I'm pleased to meet you

Hope you guess my name

What's puzzlin'you

is the nature of my game

I'm very warm.

- I'm wearing leather. I feel like a beaver...

- Hey, man. Can I help you with somethin'?

(man) Hey! Get over here!

Come dance over here!

- I'd like to speak to a guy named Strader.

- That's his girlfriend up there.

You wanna know somethin',

you'd better ask her, you know what I mean?

Thanks.

George. Come to, George. You're drooling.

(man) Ooh, baby!

Mm, yeah!

Cassandra, police department.

This is Sergeant Sykes...

"Shithead". Perfect!

We're lookin' for your boss, Strader.

He's not here. Why ask me?

The hostess downstairs

said you might know.

She did, did she? Well, she was wrong.

Excuse me. I have to change.

Good. We have no problem here.

We're not here for a high-school paper.

This is a homicide investigation.

And... if you don't stop jerkin' around...

we're gonna have to play a little hardball.

Oh, hardball? Sounds interesting.

You going to strike me? You could tie me up

and then do whatever you want with me.

I have my own ropes.

Does that come free,

or do you charge a little extra?

You have me all wrong. I never charge money

for something that I myself find pleasurable.

(overemphatically) I am going out

to the car. I will meet you there.

I don't know where Mr Strader could be.

He comes and he goes.

I know. Why don't you

hang around here for a while?

Let me entertain you.

- It's Matt, right?

- Yes, indeed.

Tell me the truth.

Have you ever... made it with one of us?

Um... no. Unless I got drunk

and somebody didn't tell me.

Mm. A virgin.

I find that very arousing.

You sure you haven't?

Um...

There's lots of things I haven't done.

That's... not real high on my list.

No... you know.

Don't take it personally. I'm a bigot.

Maybe you're just a little afraid, huh?

Maybe you're afraid of what might happen

once the lights go out.

Maybe more than you want to admit.

Doesn't that curiosity and that fear

all swirling together turn you on?

Think of it as... broadening your horizons.

- I like my horizons... rather narrow.

- (unzips fly)

Your voice is saying no,

but your body's saying yes.

Yeah... wait, whoa.

Excuse me. My voice and the rest of me is

saying that I'll be back in a couple of hours.

You make sure that Strader's here.

(zips up fly)

You handle the women from now on,

you know what I mean?

- What do you mean?

- I mean, you handle the women.

(in alien language) I know it's midnight.

Yes, I'm being careful.

The human seems likable.

We'll be working late tonight,

so don't wait up.

No. I love you too.

- Do you mind?

- No, be my guest.

That hits the spot.

- She keeps you on a short leash, does she?

- My wife? She worries about me.

Yeah, I know the routine.

Your home is quite disordered. I thought

when I walked in you had been burglarised.

Well... I appreciate your honesty, George.

Ignore the b*tch on the left.

That's Edie. I call her "Edie Amin".

That's Kristin, my daughter.

The picture's a little old. She's 20 now.

Gettin' married, as a matter of fact, Sunday.

Human children can be very beautiful.

Getting married? Congratulations.

You're taking Sunday off, then?

No, I don't know. Maybe not.

I don't think I wanna go.

She doesn't need her burnt-out father there.

I'm gonna show you something.

This is Susan, my wife.

Oh, yeah. I remember

from when I picked you up.

Oh. Not bad.

This is Richard, my son. Four years old.

We named him after

the former president Richard Nixon.

You open to a little piece of advice, George?

Me, I'd tell people I named him

after the actor, Richard Burton.

Just take my word for it.

So then the doctor says "If this is

my thermometer, where is my pen?!"

You don't think that's funny?

Look...

The guy says "This is my..."

You gotta work with me, George.

I get a laugh with this all the time.

If the doctor has the thermometer

in his hand, where is the pen? Where?

- In the other man's rectum.

- Yeah, it's stickin' up his a*s!

- Correct.

- Yeah, but that's what makes the joke.

There's a surprise. Your mind

fills in all these little funny pictures.

There's a guy sittin' with a pen up his a*s.

Good luck, George.

(speaks alien language)

I just think that's really funny.

Tell it to me again.

I got another one...

(sniffs)

There is so much our two peoples

do not understand about each other.

No sh*t, Sherlock. You only come from

another g*dd*mn planet, for chrissakes.

You humans are very curious to us.

You invite us to live in an atmosphere of

equality that we've never known before.

You let us own our own lives for the first time

and you ask no more of us

than you do of yourselves.

I hope you understand

how special your world is,

how unique a people you humans are.

Which is why it is all the more

painful and confusing to us

that so few of you seem capable of

living up to the ideals you set for yourselves.

Don't count on me, George.

I never had any ideals.

- You're all right, Georgie, you're all right.

- I am going home.

Yeah.

You go home... and you get some sleep.

You'd better drive.

You're too screwed up to walk.

(crashing)

What a wild man(!)

(speaks alien language)

(knocking)

Yeah?!

Better be good news or money.

- Oh, George. What?

- Hold this.

I feel very terrible.

I'm so milked-over.

- Where'd you get this?

- A man. A human.

He was wiring it to your car.

My car?

- She is going to divorce me.

- No, she can't divorce you.

You mate for life, isn't that right?

She is very progressive.

I am certain she is considering it.

- Hey, Matt.

- What?

Does a guy named Strader

mean anything to you?

- Yeah. Why?

- They found him, or what's left of him,

washed up on the beach at Zuma.

Fedorchuk and Alterez are on their way.

Thanks, Michelle.

Come on, let's go.

- To the beach?

- Yeah, come on, dude. Surf's up!

Please, I must get out of here.

Huh? Why?

- Stop the car.

- We're not gonna go near the water, all right?

I beg you to please stop this car.

- Please stop the car.

- OK, OK.

- Please!

- Look, George, we're stopping.

All right? Go ahead. Now get out.

It's cool. Don't worry.

I'll be back in a couple of minutes.

Thank you.

- So that kid was the first to report this?

- Yeah, about eleven.

g*dd*mn.

How do you know that's Strader?

We found his wallet in his jacket pocket.

"Joshua Strader" - big as life.

You got any idea as to

how long he's been dead?

Your guess is as good as mine. The only

thing holding him together is his clothes.

Hey, how are you guys doin'

on Tuggle's case?

The store owner's son's in a street g*ng,

so now we're thinkin' maybe it's g*ng-related.

Yeah, that's real good(!) Why don't you guys

work on that for a few months?

Look at your dildo partner.

He's even scared of the sand.

I'd love to see you next to a sea

of hydrochloric acid, Fedorchuk.

See how much surfin' you'd do.

That's cute.

- That's real cute.

- I know why he's not comin' down here.

He forgot his hip waders.

Why don't you lay off of him, you as*h*le?

At least I'm a detective,

not some outer-sh*t space thing.

You're right. You are a real detective.

An honest-to-God detective.

Detect these!

Argh!

- What was that about?

- Nothin'.

Hey. You guys finish

your postmortem on Strader yet?

The Blob? They're finishing up now.

- Is Mr Bentner here?

- No, he went home early. His kid was sick.

But he left somethin' here for you.

- Here.

- Thank you.

Does this have somethin' to do

with the tests that he ran?

- What kind of tests?

- I think it was a blood test,

on that alien you dropped the other night.

Well, did he find anything?

- Well, George?

- It's nothing.

Don't give me that sh*t. It wasn't "nothing"

when you asked that... whatshisname...

Bentner... to run that test. He looked like

he was about to sh*t peach pits.

And it's not "nothing" now!

Don't lie to me, George. You're real bad at it.

- You must leave me alone on this.

- Oh, no.

I'm sorry, pally. I don't leave you alone.

You're my partner and I don't work that way.

All right? Well?

No secrets, goddamnit.

That Slag up there, he was on something.

It wasn't sour milk. Am I right, George?

Tell me, g*dd*mn... sh*t!

You tell me right now.

Now!

The drug is called ss'jabroka.

- It is a potent narcotic.

- How potent?

More potent than any human drug

you can imagine.

The controllers regulated it. We would

receive it as a reward for labour in the mines.

- You? You were on this sh*t?

- Yes, we all were.

We were genetically engineered

as sl*ve labourers.

It was our only means of pleasure allowed.

The harder you worked, the more you got.

The more you got, the harder you worked.

Thousands of my people died.

I lost my best friend. It is a nightmare.

I will not let it happen again.

Why wouldn't you just

tell me something like that?

Your people do not know about

this part of our past and they cannot.

It would threaten our entire existence here.

- How did this guy get it?

- I don't know.

Well, was it on the ship?

No.

This is major, George.

It's very major. All you had to do was tell me.

(woman) Here's Hubley.

Looks like he passed up a few jobs,

waiting for the one at the refinery.

Would you punch up "Joshua Strader"

for me, darlin'?

Released on November 29th,

came immediately to LA,

and took over a club called the Encounters.

Now the store owner, please. Cecil Porter.

Released December 1. Field of expertise:

Organic chemical engineering.

Holy sh*t.

Look what we're lookin' at here, George.

You got three Newcomers with nothing

in common. What if one guy shot all three?

Now you got four Newcomers,

totally different backgrounds...

- George...

- Quarantine.

Honey, punch up the occupants

of Porter's lodge, will you?

OK. Porter was in 772.

Harcourt. Gin!

Porter somehow created the formula. Hubley

provided the manufacturing at the refinery.

And Strader, through the club,

established distribution.

Yeah, then Harcourt wiped 'em all out,

so he could have all the marbles.

He's responsible for everything, from Tug on.

Well, I want his a*s. He's mine.

We gotta play this real smart.

Do you understand, George?

- If the drug is here, we must destroy it.

- No, hold it. You're missing the point.

The drug is our evidence.

We need it, you know?

Hey, that's the guy, right there.

- Hey, are you crazy? You can't come in here!

- Open the door!

- So much for playin' it smart.

- You can't come in here like this!

- What are you, crazy?

- Shut up!

- Where's the drug?

- What drug? This is an oil refinery!

- Where?

- You can't do this!

George, I think you're

crushing his little chest bones.

- Stay outta this, Matthew.

- Right.

Tell me where the drug has been taken,

or I'll crush your lungs.

O'Neal, please... do me a favour, don't piss

him off. He gets like this, I can't control him.

I saw him once go in there and pull out

a guy's spine and show it to him.

There was nothing I could do.

I had to go throw up.

They took the stuff out

this afternoon. All of it.

Where did they take it?

The Encounters club.

Quite lovely.

What is your name again?

Cassandra.

I shall remember that.

All right, now come on, George.

Lighten up. It's a beauty of a case.

We got it by the short hairs. He ain't gonna

make any more of that sh*t, I promise you.

If you destroy the drugs, you'll destroy

the case. Why blow the whole thing?

Please just stick to procedure, OK?

f*ck procedure.

George, what?

George! Goddamnit!

George Francisco, open your golden gate

Open your gate and let me in

You. Hey, you! Police.

Come on, get outta there.

- What?

- Get out. I wanna see you walk that line.

- Come on!

- What are you talkin' about?

Hey, what about me? That's my truck!

(Harcourt) It's been a long time.

Hasn't it, gentlemen?

- What is it?

- A sweet indulgence from our past,

resurrected for our future.

Please feel free to sample the quality.

I'm sure the experience will be

everything you remember it to be.

Where'd you get it?

I arranged to spend some time

with three very resourceful men.

Jesus, it tastes like detergent.

That's all the effect it will have on you.

But when my fellow Newcomers

learn they can obtain it here,

they will work very hard to make as much

money as they can... to give it to me.

Tell them the rest of it, Harcourt.

Tell them!

- He's got the C-4 charge.

- Put your g*ns on the table.

Get up against the wall, except you.

Take it easy, buddy.

Keep your finger on the button.

You release that button,

you not only k*ll us, but yourself.

- To get you and this, I would do it.

- You seem to have overlooked something.

That is not in any books

as a controlled substance.

Legally, it mightjust as well

be 12 kilos of grape jelly.

The charge is m*rder,

and conspiracy to commit m*rder.

Hubley. Porter. Strader.

You k*lled Strader? No!

No!

- k*ll them both.

- Here?

Do it!

Don't sh**t!

We've got g*nf*re at club Encounters.

sh*t, it worked.

(shouts in alien language)

- Get the car! Let's go!

- I can't! You have the keys!

(sounds horn)

Turn the police light on.

(siren)

What are you doin'?

Don't put the g*n in my face!

Matthew!

I think we lost them.

(Sykes) Move! Everybody move!

We're the g*dd*mn police!

(siren stops)

Up ahead, on your right.

It's blocked. The g*dd*mn road is blocked.

Oh, Christ.

Head straight for them. He'll move.

This is chicken, George. I never lose.

(speaks alien language)

Damn!

(groans)

You all right? Anything broken?

You all right?

Don't move.

Put 'em up.

I said put them up.

Hey.

- You move one finger and you're history.

- Not history.

Eternity.

I just remembered ajoke that my son told me.

Yeah?

So?

I'd better not tell it.

I don't tell jokes well.

Probably not, but go on, tell me.

If I begin to tell it and

you know the joke, please say.

Why did the chicken cross the road?

(wheezes)

I know it.

It's a funny joke.

I assume, with Harcourt and Kipling dead,

you will be requesting a reassignment now.

Well... just for your own good.

I think you'd probably be better with

a partner who's more by the book.

But still, George, I gotta tell ya.

For a quiet guy, once you get started,

you're hell on wheels, you know?

And I'd kinda hate to miss

your next few days as a detective.

Come on, guys,

I'll give you a lift to the station.

- Come on, partner.

- They want a statement on the sh**ting.

No, I didn't sh**t Harcourt.

I didn't have to. He OD'd.

- You got a match?

- Yeah, in there.

What's this about, Sarge?

Just keep driving, all right? Just... drive.

What the heck is that?

Holy...

I'm callin' for backup.

No.

Leave it be, will you, Wiltey?

Sarge.

(Wiltey) Something gutted them.

I'm gonna request help and an air unit.

What... what?

- What is this?

- It's Harcourt.

- He's dead.

- No, not if he overdosed on the drug.

Massive amounts trigger a change.

Your body seizes up, you appear dead,

but it is really a state of incubation. When

you emerge, you are metamorphosised.

We must not let him get away.

What?

What would happen if humans see

what we are capable of becoming?

Got him.

Wiltey, no!

(tyres screech, crash)

(flutter of clothing)

(clank)

(boat horn)

(helicopter approaches)

Hey, you! Get the hell off my boat.

You heard me! Get off the boat!

Over there!

Nice view, huh? You dumb sack of sh*t!

(growls)

For Tug. Let's have a cold one!

Take her down!

Down! Take her down!

(screams)

Your scarf. Can I borrow your scarf?

Take her down!

(screaming)

Wait, wait, wait.

What the hell was that down there?

It looked really weird.

What do you mean, weird? It looked like

every other Slag to me, just plain ugly.

Here, look at this.

(Sykes) Here, let me hold the tie.

Everybody gets dressed right before

their daughter gets married.

- Is it on top of the collar?

- No... Now it is.

- It looks all right?

- You look very good.

Ready, Daddy?

Yes, honey.

George, I just want to tell you in advance...

I want to apologise for all the rotten things

I'm gonna do and say to you over the years.

It is all right, Matthew.

After all, you're only human.

What a wild man.

Well, my daughter's got a husband.

I got a partner.

He really ain't half bad, except when

he's got that rotten milk on his breath.

We are friends, we are brothers

Always there, looking out for each other

In a world where so many dreams

Are broken apart

Yeah, but

When the world

Tries to beat us

We hang tough

Ain't no way they'll defeat us

You and I will always survive

Together we're strong

Heart to heart

Any storm, we can weather

You and I

We've become united for ever

Two hearts that can beat as one

There ain't a single thing we can't overcome

We're indestructible

Indestructible

We've got the power of love

So strong, we can generate

A wall of solid love nothing can penetrate

We're indestructible

Whoa-oa, whoa-oa

There's a power

Deep inside us

Ain't no one that could ever divide us

Cos we won't fall

We'll show 'em all

Just what we're made of

You and I

We're in it together

We stand strong

Through it all, united for ever

Two hearts that can beat as one

There ain't a single thing we can't overcome

We're indestructible

Indestructible

We've got the power of love

So strong, we can generate

A wall of solid love nothing can penetrate

We're indestructible

Whoa-oa, whoa-oa

Heart to heart

Any storm, we can weather

You and I

We've become united for ever

Two hearts that can beat as one

There ain't a single thing we can't overcome

We're indestructible

Indestructible

We've got the power of love

So strong, we can generate

A wall of solid love nothing can penetrate

We're indestructible

Whoa-oa, whoa-oa