Exploring the Hills: The Making of 'The Hills Have Eyes 2'

---

No! No! No! No! No!

- No! No! No! No! No!

- Die!

Colonel Redding.

Now there's a piece of work.

I can 't believe he's having us

wire up this hellhole.

He's obsessed with something.

What's he expecting to find down there?

Ghosts of old miners?

They're here.

Hey.

You ready to test?

All right.

You got everybody?

Number one's dead.

How about now?

Good there.

How about the security dummies?

They're dead, too.

Hold on.

What the hell?

What you got?

I got a shitload of false readings.

Stand by.

Again?

What's going on here?

Damn it.

We just lost our feed.

I'll go check the main junction.

Spooky down there, isn 't it? We're

the first ones in there since the 50s.

Maybe it is haunted.

Glad it's you and not me in there.

Oh, f***!

What's with the junction box?

It's history.

Our friends the rats again.

They love the taste of the insulation.

All right, I'll call base, should be able to

get a backup here in an hour or so.

Sh*t.

Dr. Wilson, have you seen Foster?

Calibrating the infrared sensor

up top the mountain.

- Dumb sons-a-b*tches.

- Sorry, Colonel Redding.

Guys aren't supposed to be here

without a goddamn escort!

Wilson.

Wilson?

Wilson, come in.

Where are these guys?

Han, do you read me?

It's Foster.

Han, come in.

Han, it's Foster.

Hi.

Are you lost?

My name is Dr. Foster.

Do you have a name?

- Roonawee.

- Roonwee?

- Roonawee!

- Run away?

Foster?

Foster!

Now where are you?

Come on.

Come out of your holes.

Come on, you cocksucker

motherf***er sons-a-b*tches!

Foster!

- Oh, sh*t.

- Oh, my God.

Go! Go!

Move out! Move out! Go!

- Keep moving! Keep mo--

- Go!

Oh, sh*t!

- Take cover!

- Come on, Crank!

- Spitter!

- Leave it!

I got to get my helmet.

Spitter, forget your f***ing helmet!

Get back here!

It's not supposed to be this bad!

Die!

America's mothers suck c*cks!

- What the f*** did you say?

- Your American mothers suck c*cks.

F*** you!

America number one, b*tch!

Crank, no!

- Crank!

- Let's move, pussies!

Crank, you dumb motherf***er!

Don't freak out!

- Go, go, go, go, go!

- Get back!

I know what to do,

get out of the way.

- Give him some cover!

- I got this! I got this!

You get out!

This is fortress of Allah!

Come on.

Napoleon, get the door!

- Get the door, man!

- What? I can't hear you.

- Get the f***ing door!

- Door!

This is the mother of all doors!

Fall back!

- Sh*t! Take cover!

- Run!

Sh*t.

Mama.

You killed my babies!

Oh, no!

You killed my babies!

You killed my babies!

Watch out.

Watch her!

- We didn't mean to.

- No, Napoleon!

Kaboom.

Oh, you're dead.

Idiot.

A stunning display of individual

and group stupidity!

I'm in f***ing awe!

Cole!

Never leave cover to retrieve your helmet!

You won't have a head

to put it on anyway!

Johnson, do not drop your weapon

to protect your ears.

You are better off deaf than dead.

Medina, since you

are not Rambo resurrected. . .

. . . do not charge while your head

is securely up your ass.

That's how innocent people get killed.

And you, Napoleon.

It's Napoli, Sarge.

You're quite the killer, aren't you?

Napoleon?

Almost got your whole squad

blown to hell in six seconds.

That's a mighty impressive body count

for somebody who's against the war.

- What?

- Oh, yeah, your brother didn't tell you?

Pretty mouth here's got himself

a bumper sticker.

It says "Conversation, not confrontation" .

What's up with that sh*t?

You against the war, Doonesbury?

Not all war, Sarge. I just think

that the President lies too much.

All presidents lie, a**hole!

That's their f***ing job.

Yes, sir.

No president has told the truth since

Truman. And do you know what he said?

- No, Sarge.

- He said that the buck stops here.

Now you have all failed combat

and are therefore officially dead.

Congratu-f***ing-lations!

Fall in at that deuce-and-a-half

with all gear.

We will deploy to the

Agave Ridge rifle range.

There you can complete your failure

of these exercises. . .

. . . by blowing each

others' dead heads off.

And on our way, we're stopping

at Sector 16. . .

. . . to deliver equipment to scientists who

are working there.

This is a top secret area, so do not

wander off or talk to anybody.

Now get your sorry rookie butts

in the back of that truck! Now!

Let's go!

Let's go!

Let's go, Spitter. If I had some steak

on a string, you'd move real fast!

Jesus, how big is this place?

It's about 1300 square miles.

They used to test nuclear weapons here.

Well, isn't it radioactive then?

Not according to the Army.

F***.

Well, maybe I should thank Napoleon.

If we're all officially dead, like Sarge

said, I won't be tried for war crimes.

The killing of innocent mannequins

is serious sh*t.

Where I come from it's never

good to be dead.

Ah, Crank, you're taking all the fun

out of the afterlife.

- Shove the afterlife up your ass.

- That's cold, man.

Clyde, huh?

Made the same mistake when I was a kid.

So is Clyde still your dude?

Yes, Stump, Clyde's still my dude.

Stump. That's her son.

He's, like, four years old.

That is so f***ed up.

One good thing about being dead.

Wouldn't have to listen to your bullshit.

That's all there is out here.

It's a bunch of bullshit.

This bullshit's got a crazy past.

You know they used to use this

as a test ground for A-bombs?

"You guys know this used to be a

test ground for A-bombs!"

Who the f*** asked you?

Peace ass sh*t boy!

Oh, right. I'm sorry. I forgot

I was dealing with Rambo resurrected.

You can Rambo resurrect my balls, b*tch.

You with the pinche puta.

What, you wanna die young, cabrn?

Huh? Huh?

I'll kill you right now.

Crank!

I killed somebody once.

It was easy.

That's why it's so dangerous.

I don't f***ing like that guy.

Well, I don't like being out here having

to put up with you, but I deal with it.

So deal with it.

Thanks.

Don't mind Crank.

He's just a cranky motherf***er.

They're so top secret,

they're invisible, huh?

You got that right.

Oh, leg's asleep.

- Dick's asleep!

- You wanna wake it up?

Nah, that's your daddy's job.

Hey, you two, cut the bullshit.

Off-load that crate. Put it in the tent!

Spitter, get me base.

National Guard Yankee Five Niner

calling Yuma Flats Base, over.

National Guard Yankee Five Niner

calling Yuma Flats Base, over.

Nothing, sir.

It's the hills.

Keep trying.

National Guard Yankee Five Niner

to Yuma Flats Base, over.

Hello.

- Private Crackhead.

- Sarge.

See if you can find Colonel Redding. He's

supposed to be the security over here.

See these cables?

They run into that old bunker over there.

Check it out.

Watch your step.

Yes, sir, Sergeant.

Private Mickey Mouse,

see if you can find some gas.

There's got to be some

cans around here somewhere.

Yes, Sergeant.

Napoleon!

Where the f*** are you going?

- I was just going to use the facilities.

- Are you f***ing kidding me?

You are in Mountain Assault training.

There are no Port-a-Potties in Kandahar.

You'll take your dumps behind the cactus

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes