Retroactive
- R
- Year:
- 1997
- 91 min
- 94 Views
"Super Collider:
U.S. Government|Accelerator Project, Texas"
Sorry, pal.
The exact time is 16:44...
and as you can plainly see...
the subject of retroactive experiment|number 12 is plainly deceased.
Since my first 11 attempts at|this experiment proved unsuccessful...
this will be|my last opportunity...
being as the idiots|at the Pentagon...
will be shutting this place down|completely come Monday morning.
This tape will provide proof|that I have been able...
to briefly|reverse the flow of time.
Whatever subject|passes through this machine...
will have total recollection|of all that has happened.
I, however, will have no memory|of these events.
The exact time is 16:44...
and as you can plainly see...
the subject of retroactive experiment|number 12 is plainly deceased.
Since my first 11 attempts at|this experiment proved unsuccessful...
this will be|my last opportunity...
being as the idiots|at the Pentagon...
will be shutting this place down|completely come Monday morning.
Now, this tape|will provide proof...
not only to my detractors|but also to myself.
- I did it.|- Because if I am right...
and I can briefly|reverse the flow of time...
I will have no memory|of these events.
I did it.
I did it!
Oh, my God.
Hey, man!|How're you doing, brother?
Look at them, man.|They like to pay for these, don't they?
- Nobody followed you here?|- I'll be back.
Whoa. My money, Frank.|Where's my money?
How the hell am I supposed to give you|money when I gotta go get it?
I've got no money on me.|That's why we're in this business.
- Have I ever screwed you over?|- Yeah, you have.
That was high school.|I was drunk. Leave me alone.
I need my money.
I'm gonna make you as rich as sh*t|four foot up a bull's ass.
Come on, man!|What are you doing to me?
Put the goddamn gun away.
- I need my money.|- I know!
- Thirty minutes.|- Thirty minutes and I'll be right back.
Take that thing away from me.|You're gonna hurt somebody with that.
Thirty minutes!
You have yourself|a little cup of coffee.
By the time you're done with it,|I'll be back with the cash.
The city of Chicago today|is in mourning...
in the wake of this weekend's|tragic hostage situation...
at the Federal Building.
Lead negotiator Karen Warren...
has officially resigned from her|position with the police department.
Stop! Hey!
Thanks a bunch, pal!
Not good.
What was that, honey?
My car. Looks like|I may need a little help.
What the hell|happened to that sign?
That's Rayanne. Don't mind her.|She's just shy.
Yeah. Looks like|you got a problem...
in this general area|right here.
Any particular type of problem,|you think?
I don't know.
I can take you up the road|a click to a buddy of mine.
He's got a tow truck|all his own.
Hell, come on.
Frank's the name.|Throw yourself in the rear.
I'll fix ya up.
- Isn't that right, Rayanne?|- Whatever you want.
Hi, I'm Karen. How far|do you suppose it is?
Oh, I don't know.|Let me think now.
I'd say five, ten miles.
Hell, who knows?|This is Texas, right?
- You from around these parts?|- Yeah, I used to be.
- Down by Galveston way.|- Is that right?
You sure do talk|like a city girl.
Polish these for me.
The funniest thing|happened to me today.
I was in the break room|getting a cup of coffee...
and there was this woman...|Kim.
She's some kind of secretary|or something.
And she says...|She goes like this.
She says, "Frank,|that's a good-looking belt buckle."
And I don't know.|This just popped into my head.
Don't ask me how.
I just said to her...|Guess what I said.
Guess what I say to her.
Somebody please just|guess what I said.
I don't know.|What'd you say?
I say, "lt'll look a lot|better pressed against your forehead."
That just popped into my head!
What's wrong? You don't wanna experience|my razor-sharp wit back there?
I guess I've just been away too long.|Missed that old Texas humor.
I know what'll cheer you up.|You like country music?
- No, not really.|- What?
I suppose it's one of the reasons|I left Texas in the first place.
It's made in America for Americans.|You're not un-American, are ya?
No, you might say dealing with|Americans is what I'm trained to do.
Don't tell me you're a cop.|Don't tell me that.
Close. Psychologist.
Shrink, huh? All right.
I got an assignment for you.
What's the name|of that book of yours?
If you really want|to know it...
It provides a framework|to work out...
what you might do if you|could go back and change your life.
Sounds like a bunch of bullshit|to me, if you don't mind me saying.
It's just|therapeutic role-playing.
Like me play Tarzan,|you Jane?
Sh*t! Where the hell|you suppose he popped up from?
Goddamn it!
Bullshit!
I already got three goddamn tickets.|My insurance is gonna go sky-high.
Whoa! Stay right where you are.
I didn't ask you|to get out of the car.
Officer,|just stretching my legs.
No crime in that.
I wanna see your license|and registration.
Yes, sir, but you gotta tell me|one thing first.
What in the hell|did I do wrong?
You were doing 78 miles an hour|in a 55-mile zone...
is what the hell|you were doing wrong.
Come on. Really?
I can assure you, Officer...
that that would be|highly unusual for me.
Because I am like this|with the law.
Just give me your license|and registration.
Yes, sir.
Goddamn b*tch|shrank my jeans.
Here you go, sir.
You wanna tell me who you got|travelling with you, Mr. Lloyd?
Them?
Them two's my women.
Bigamy is against the law.
Well...
that's why I ain't married.
Keeping it legal.
Why don't you|get back in your car?
Yes, sir.
Not a problem there. I'll just|sit there behind the wheel.
It looks like there's gonna be|a slight delay...
while the good officer|clears matters up.
Maybe I should ask|for a ride from the trooper.
- Get outta your hair.|- No, I wouldn't hear of it.
You just hold on.|Hell.
We only got|about a mile to go.
Well, except for six|previous speeding violations...
seems you are|a law-abiding citizen.
I told ya.
I'm just gonna|write you up for 70.
Sign by that "X."
Try and slow down.
'Cause I'll be watching you.
Thank you very much, sir.
A**hole!
- Honey...|- Shut up!
Goddamned bullshit!
You just keep your eyes|on this, a**hole.
Look out!
Christ, I could've knocked that|son of a b*tch back to Chihuahua.
So, baby...
What the hell are you|so tense about?
Come on. Lighten up.
Say something.
Our guest is gonna think you're|a damn mute if you don't say something.
Go on.
I just wish that you would|control your temper is all.
- That's bullshit!|- You wanted me to say something.
And the first thing that comes|out of your mouth...
is some kind of criticism of me,|is that it?
- No...|- Shut up, woman.
Goddamn women.
Can't live with 'em,|can't blow their heads off. Sh*t.
Well, this must be it.
Nope, not yet. I'm just stopping here|for a well-deserved beverage.
Damn! I'm as thirsty|as a chipmunk hung out to dry.
Hey. You girls wanna dabble|in a little beverage?
Not for me.
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"Retroactive" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 5 Nov. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/retroactive_16838>.
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