Primeval Page #2

I'm Tim.

Nice chatting with you.

Are you working on my lead-ins?

No. Working on the real story,

the HMO scandal.

You wouldn't believe the sh*t...

Right, right.

This isn't a real story.

Well... let's face it,

catching a killer croc,

it ain't the makings

of a Pulitzer Prize.

Like the Porter story you just blew?

Question your assumptions, Tim.

Isn't that the first thing

they teach you?

Where did you learn that,

modeling school?

No, Columbia School

of Journalism.

You are such an a**hole,

aren't you?

Well...

- What the hell's going on?

- Some guys were shooting at us.

Who are those guys?

I thought there was a ceasefire.

This is a war zone.

People shoot at each other.

Jacob Krieg! Mr. Krieg!

Jacob, I'm Aviva Masters.

Roger sends his regards...

I received word this morning

there has been another attack.

A little girl was killed

in a village 30km north.

- Say we get moving.

- The rapids are too rough.

We'll have to drive.

Problem is, the village is close

to Little Gustave's territory.

- The warlord?

- Uh-huh.

We'll go see him, explain

we're a scientific expedition

with no interest in politics.

Nobody sees Little Gustave.

Except those he means to kill.

- So, what do we do?

- We take our chances.

We leave first thing

in the morning.

Are you looking for something?

- You're a poacher.

- No, I'm a licensed hunter.

I started this expedition to save

Gustave from people like you.

It's a wonder

there are any crocs left.

You may be grateful

for my skills.

We're after a man-eater.

There are more than enough

human beings on this planet.

The crocodile is exceptional,

a creature of far greater value.

You don't seem stupid,

so you must be insane.

This croc cannot be taken alive.

I'll call the whole thing off.

I'll pack up my gear

and send the Americans home

before I allow you

to harm this animal.

Do you understand me?

Sir, I'm only your humble guide.

Not even Gustave can bite

through this reinforced steel.

Once inside, his weight

will activate a pressure plate,

triggering a spring-loaded door.

Dr. Collins has designed this

trap so that no harm can come

to this extraordinary creature...

- Cut! Cut.

- What?

Still a little chipper.

Oh! You know, this is

starting to get abusive.

Dial it down. We're not shooting

a toothpaste commercial.

Not all of us can be

clinically depressed.

Oh, sh*t! There's Gustave!

Oh, sh*t! Sh*t!

I got it right here!

- Funny, man.

- Let's do it again.

I got both of y'all, too.

Aviva, it's Gustave!

It's Gu...

He's waving at you!

These people! It's unbelievable.

Already back in the river

like nothing's happened.

The river's their source of food,

their only water.

- Their life.

- Life is right.

Y'all ever seen Jaws, the movie?

Might wanna check that out.

That to warn the villagers?

They kept him tied out there

as an offering to the croc.

That's not terribly effective.

I'm all for tradition,

but I can't leave him like that.

That is one ugly-ass dog.

Oh, look at you.

Oh.

Hi, little guy.

Don't be scared.

Don't be scared.

Don't be scared.

There's a shaman

who lives near here.

We'll have to ask

for his blessing

if we want the villagers

to help us.

Tonight the feast

is for gratitude, luck.

This is delicious.

What is this?

Nyama ni nyama tu, in Swahili.

It means "all meat is meat".

In other words, don't ask.

- Ooh!

- Bravo.

Thank you.

- He says it's your turn.

- For what?

To perform

one of your native songs.

No, no. We no sing. Drink.

- Eat.

- And eat.

They're staring.

Why did you go and pick

a Negro spiritual?

In Africa?

This is it. I can't believe

you're gonna make me do this.

Good, huh?

Yeah.

You know what?

Let's just remix.

Can you give me a beat?

A one, two, three. Go.

This sh*t is embarrassing.

Gwanyana is one of

the village elders,

a sort of priest shaman.

He is performing a rite

for the soul of the little girl.

He says Kirunga came again.

Kirunga is like a bad spirit.

Evil men call to him,

men like Little Gustave.

The good people are weak.

They are the ones who suffer.

They live in fear.

Kirunga surrounds them.

Little Gustave rules the land.

The crocodile rules the water.

Hey!

Hey! Hey!

Hey. Naughty By Nature, right?

This is some good sh*t. Yeah.

I'll have a nickel bag of that.

- It's meant to be a blessing.

- It is.

One more hit? One more hit?

No? OK.

I'll pass. I'm allergic

to mumbo jumbo.

If you'll excuse me.

Hey!

What's he saying?

He says that

we'll find what we seek.

Then we'll find death.

You, me, all,

we make Kirunga.

Kirunga kill.

Kirunga save.

Must face.

I think I know

where Gustave might be.

Recent attacks are focused

around a small island

in Kibira Wetlands, a swamp

a few miles to the northeast.

We need a lot of hands,

a lot of help.

Half of you on this side

and half on the other side.

Why carry the cage?

Let's take this road.

Suicide. The shaman says

it's under the control

- of Hutu militia.

- Little Gustave?

The shaman has been

a thorn in his side,

trying to get the village

to stand up to the warlords.

Isn't that why we have

these guys, to protect us?

They can't stop a landmine.

Plus, the militia carry rockets.

Most of them are teenagers,

high on amphetamines.

They'd kill you

for that watch you're wearing.

Come on, lift! We need

more people on the side here.

- OK, you ready?

- Hey, what are you doing?

- You are taking someone's spot.

- What? I'm helping out.

Come on, they need this job.

Come on.

Give me a break.

I'm just trying to help.

Fight! Kick his ass!

The more you help, the worse it gets.

It doesn't mean you shouldn't try.

Set up camp far enough

away that we don't spook it.

There's a perfect spot

a kilometer back.

- My own blend.

- A little early for me, man.

- Just take a whiff.

- What is it?

Agh! Mother of God!

A combination of blood/urine pheromones.

I'll spread a trail in the

water, leading to the cage.

Never had much luck with croc bait.

You'll see, from two kilometers,

Gustave will come running

with a hard-on.

Tranquilizer darts won't work.

They can't penetrate his scales.

I'd never use tranqs.

Too much danger of overdosing

and drowning the animal.

It's an electronic transmitter.

All I need is one clear shot...

...and we'll always know where he is.

Thank you very much.

Asante. Asante sana.

Thank you. Asante.

Thank you.

Thank you. Asante sana.

You from America, Hollywood.

Not yet, but I'm working on it.

Your English is pretty good, though.

How I get there, USA?

Well, my people came

on what you call a slave ship.

But it's not so easy now.

Breath mint?

Take a couple of those.

Sorry you can't come

to the good old US of A,

- but, hey, have a tic tac.

- No. Sorry, your breath stinks bad.

- Take a tic tac.

- How we doing?

It's getting there.

- Don't tie him too close...

- Oh! Oh!

Sh*t! You couldn't wait

till I was done?

Jesus.

You wanted to stake out the cage.

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