Darkman III: Die Darkman Die

My name is Peyton Westlake.

I WAS a scientist on the verge

of an amazing liquid skin discovery,

until they took it all away.

(Yells)

They smashed my life

into a million pieces.

Everything was destroyed -

my work, my dreams.. .everything.

(Yells)

They burned away my identity -

leaving me for dead.

(Woman ) Take him to the burn unit.

Stat. Just hold on, pal.

I'm with you.

(Westlake ) But I wasn't truly dead.

Driven by uncontrollable surges

of adrenaline,

I had the strength of ten men.

I became a monster,

left to lurk in the shadows.

Now science is my only hope.

My synthetic skin formula

gave me back my face...

but only for 99 minutes.

99 minutes...

As I try to rebuild myself, I fight

for those who have no defender.

Now crime has a new enemy.

And justice has a brand new face.

(Ship's horn )

Show time.

Come on, let's move.

So this is yours?

Are you going ecological, Rooker?

Demolition and reclamation,

Johnny Lee. That's where it's at.

Intact, pigeons wouldn't live

in this dump.

In pieces, it's worth millions.

A good businessman follows the money,

Johnny Lee. That's why I diversify -

property, businesses.. .you.

Nico.

Guys...

I don't get it.

Your organisation handles

coke, weed, crack...

But you.. . You show up to supervise

a two-bit shipment of steroids.

I'm not into drugs.

- What the f*** is this sh*t?

- Strength.

Thank you. Get the rest, Adam.

Hey, good-looking.

Hmm?

Game, set and match.

Always a pleasure doing business

with you, Rooker.

- How's he doing?

- Er, Peter?

The light should've turned this

as blue as a bruise. Sh*t's been cut.

Are you shorting me?

F***. It ain't happenin' on my end.

Of course it's not.

How long have we been

doing business? Five years?

- At least four.

- We've had drinks, swapped jokes...

Did you really think

you could cheat me, Johnny?

Like the taste of that, Rooker?

I pissed in it.

Put that in the car, Adam.. . ADAM!

You flipped, man?

- What the f*** is wrong with you?!

- Jesus, somebody cold clocked me.

What the f***?!

Get him! He's got the money,

the son of a b*tch!

Come back here, you a**hole! Hey!

Come here!

God damn you!

God damn you!

Hey!

So it's true.

Get him! Get him!

Jesus!

- I'm gonna get him!

- Who is this guy?

(Screams )

Going down.

Sh*t!

- You made me look real bad.

- You could do worse.

(Squelching)

(Screams )

Run, coward, run.

(Sinister laugh)

(Car horn )

(PA) 'Medicom Laboratories

is now closing.

'All exits will be locked

in 15 minutes.

- How you doing, Doc?

- What have you got?

The portacom and the gene splicer.

- DNA sequencer?

- I'll work on it.

Is that enough?

That ought to cover it.

I've got a slightly dinged-up

microscope I'll let you have cheap.

- No, I need that sequencer.

- OK, OK. Get back to me.

Yeah, yeah. He was just here.

Yeah, it's on there.

OK, and remember,

you f***in' owe me. OK.

I know you're out there.

(Train whistle blows )

(Computer)

Welcome back, Dr Westlake.

(Machinery powers up )

All systems running smoothly.

Lab access update - clear

through tunnels four, five, eight.

Tunnel 12, train in transit.

Sensors clear.

(Screeching)

Lab perimeter secure. No irregular

activity in monitored areas.

Good night, Dr Westlake.

Home, sweet home.

(Squelching)

(Computer) Status report -

lab control systems: static.

Liquid-skin system,

cryogenic storage: active capacity.

Hypo-tube processors: idling at 12%.

Systems await your command, Doctor.

Next status report in 30 minutes.

(Miaows )

Hello, kitty. Hello, kitty.

You think I brought you some milk,

don't you? I'm afraid not, my friend.

No, no, no.

Well, back to work.

You handsome devil.

Initiating digital scan

of subject photograph.

Digitisation complete.

Beginning three-dimensional

photographic imaging.

Completed.

(Crackling)

Implementing skin matrix formula,

number 3,714.

(Bubbling)

Maybe this will be the one.

(Computer) Estimated

photosensitivity index: unknown.

Begin countdown.

(Sighs )

(Alarm clock rings )

99 minutes, plus...

They're holding! They're holding!

(Laughs )

We did it! We did it!

We broke the 99-minute barrier!

(Laughs )

We did it! We did it! We did it!

(Rings )

(TV) Unfortunately,

time does march on.

(Computer)

Photosensitivity reaction.

Skin matrix breakdown at 99 minutes.

Failure, 99 minutes. Failure.

(TV) I hate the way I look,

but what can I do?

Introducing Sudden Youth,

a breakthrough for everyone with...

(Yells)

(Piano plays gently)

Let us review, shall we, gentlemen?

We need a replacement for Mr Lee.

I'm down $100,000.

And an open casket is definitely out

for Adam's funeral.

- Nico?

- The drugs were ruined.

Ah!

My merchandise, my money and poor

Adam, all lost because of one man.

What could we do? He was tossing us

around like we were nothing.

You're less than nothing.

You're pathetic.

Give me five men as strong as him

and I could own this town.

Peter?

(TV) .. Diane Platts

at the high school. Diane?

Thanks, Bill.

I'm at a local high school

where another student,

a football player, has died

from the abuse of illegal steroids.

It's another tragic case in

what is now being called Roid Rage.

For more, here's Paul Raney.

With Tuesday's race for district

attorney beginning to heat up,

showing a commanding lead,

Ryan Mitchell seems certain to win.

Earlier today he outlined

his proposed war on drugs.

(Mitchell)

The FBI has traced the drugs

to an organised crime ring

working in our city.

Elect me your new district attorney

and I will see

that this dangerous element

leaking this insidious drug

onto the streets,

that these animals...

Animals?!

Who's he calling an animal?.!

Nico.

The election's a week away

and he behaves as if he's already in.

Well, he's got balls,

I'll give him that.

The polls give him ten points over

our man. He says he has big plans...

- Governor, senator...

- I've got my own plans for Mitchell.

Daddy, look, my new dress!

- Not now, Jenny!

- (Woman ) Peter?!

I thought I told you not to interrupt

me when I was discussing business.

- Sorry, I thought...

- Don't think, Angela, please.

It just gets you in trouble.

What's that she's wearing?

That's her costume

for the school play.

If you ever spent more than five

minutes with her, you'd know that.

Now, gentlemen.

Mr Mitchell.

Dissolution at 99 minutes...

Perimeter violation.

- Alert, intruder in passage.

- What have we here?

Alert! Intruder! Intruder!

Let's find out.

- You scared me.

- How did you find me?

- With this.

- Ah! A tracking device.

I planted it in the crate

you took from Medicom.

I've been trying

to find you for months.

You're very smart.

I hope you're smart enough

to find your way back.

Please! Dr Westlake!

Just hear me out.

My name is Bridget Thorne.

Dr Bridget Thorne.

I attended you at County Medical.

Attended? (Laughs )

Should I thank you or kill you?

You were nearly dead

when they brought you in.

In terrible pain.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes