Tremors: A Cold Day in Hell Page #7

Synopsis: The new sequel finds Burt Gummer, who's dying from Graboid poison, and his son Travis at a remote research station in Canada's Nunavut Territory, where they must go up against a new batch of Graboids to save Burt's life.
Genre: Action, Comedy, Horror
Director(s): Don Michael Paul
Production: Universal 1440 Entertainment
 
IMDB:
5.1
PG-13
Year:
2018
98 min
388 Views


I'm your only shot.

- You?

- Yeah, me, Burt! Me!

Your job is to preserve

my legacy!

My job is to make a last stand

against these Arctic Graboids.

You can't stand,

Colonel Custer!

- Back off!

- It doesn't belong to you!

Cold, dead hands,

is that it, Burt?

What is wrong with you?

I'm trying to save your bacon here,

you stubborn old coot.

You've crossed the line!

This fight is done with you.

Yeah, well, I'm not done

with it!

Yeah, you are.

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

Don't leave me unarmed.

There.

You got your true love back.

I guess blood ain't thicker

than ammo, is it, Burt?

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

Yeah.

If you've got Ass Blasters,

you have Graboids.

That's right, soldier.

This is FOB. DOA.

TMZ.

My balls are in

the Guinness Book of Balls!

That went well!

Yeah, it sounded like it.

You ready?

It's a good look for you.

I guess the big boy's still out there

sleeping somewhere.

I hope he's the only one.

When you get pushed in,

you've got to swim, right?

Hey, Swackhamer, sit rep?

SWACKHAMER:
Seconds away!

Travis, this plan, it's

fricking crazy, huh?

Just like nailing Jell-O

to a wall.

Yeah, bro.

This is Mac. I'm wheels up

in five!

Takes me back

to my banner-tow days.

Hope the old girl

can handle the load.

Don't worry. Come on.

It's just a pure catch-and-release mission!

When the fish is on,

you want me

to pull up hard and do

a wingover, eh?

Affirmative. We're gonna use

the b*tch's momentum to land her.

Okay, Aklark, she's all yours.

Just keep it steady.

We don't wanna wake the beast up.

(GRUNTS)

Dude!

Shh!

Let's go fishing.

(UPBEAT MUSIC PLAYING)

All right, Valerie, you ready

to take down one of these bad boys?

I'm so ready.

All right!

When I get in position,

rock the cradle.

VALERIE:
I'm baiting the hook.

VARGAS:
Okay, Val, get ready.

It's awake.

Three hundred meters

and closing!

(GRUNTS)

- One hundred meters and closing.

- Okay, let's go.

All right, Mac, bring her in.

Bring her in.

Oh, sh*t.

Hooked!

(GRUNTS)

(ROARS)

Oh, sh*t!

Release! Release!

(ROARING)

(ALL SHOUTING)

What now?

Halle-freaking-lujah!

(CREATURE SCEECHING)

All right, listen, listen.

Absolutely no guns, okay?

We don't wanna kill it.

We want it alive.

We're going old-school

on this thing.

Shirts versus skins, all right?

- A three iron?

- It was the best I could do.

All right.

Let's go Alpha on this worm!

(ALL GROANING)

(GROWLS)

Okay.

All right.

(SNARLING)

Whoa, whoa.

Come on.

Get him! Come on, kid!

Get him!

Oh, man!

Guys, good effort.

Uh, Swackhamer, you got this.

- VALERIE:
Come on, Swackhamer.

- Whoo! Okay.

- You got it, man.

- You got it!

(SNARLING)

(GRUNTS)

(YELLS)

(GRUNTS)

(YELLING)

Back off!

Throw it!

Tap in. Tap in, big man.

SWACKHAMER:
Go get it, Aklark!

It's all yours!

SWACKHAMER:
Don't be afraid.

It can smell your fear!

- Make him sushi!

- SWACKHAMER:
Come on!

(YELLING)

Yeah!

(ALL CHEERING)

(GUNSHOT)

Amateurs!

(PANTING)

SWACKHAMER:
Wow! I did not

need to see that!

(GROANING)

(CREATURE SNARLING)

What's good for the Graboid

is good for the Gummer.

All right.

(EXHALES)

(CREATURE GRUNTS)

Ugh!

SWACKHAMER:
That can't

be comfortable.

You went poking around

in my throat with a big-ass needle,

I'd be pissed!

Dude, you need a Tic Tac.

(ALL GROANING IN DISGUST)

That is so awkward.

(ALL GROANING)

Oh, it smells so bad.

They should call him

Deep Throat.

That is all kinds of nasty.

At least the gland

wasn't in the prostate!

Yeah.

(MACHINES BEEPING)

(sums)

I'm sorry, Travis.

That's it?

There has to be

something more you can do.

(GRUNTS)

(CLATTERS)

BURT:
That is no way

to treat an HK91!

(EXHALES)

Sorry, Burt.

It won't happen again.

(GRUNTS)

Oh.

With all due respect, soldier,

you need a shower.

(ALL LAUGHING)

BURT:
What's the damn fuss?

How do you not die?

You never die.

(CREATURE GROWLING)

- Mr. Gummer.

- Sir.

MR. CUTTS:
Glad to see you

up and at them.

Now, it gives me

great pleasure to present you

with your permanent

federal tax lien release, in perpetuity,

as well as the title deeds

to your property.

Signed, sealed...

And delivered.

(CREATURE GROWLS)

- You're too kind.

- MR. CUTTS:
You're right.

This species will make

an exceptional bio-weapon.

When it comes to Graboids,

I'm rarely wrong, Mr. Cutts.

Mmm-hmm.

With the right neuro-implant,

it could be a bunker-buster

for God and country.

What do you think?

I was right about you all along.

You and your DARPA minions,

you're a bunch of malevolent ineptoids!

(REMOTE CONTROL

AIRPLANE WHIRRING)

What the hell was that,

Mr. Gummer?

That, sir, is the trigger.

And I am the finger.

Look, I don't know

what you're doing,

but I'd strongly

advise you not to do it!

Oh?

That Graboid is

US government property!

Hate to be a buzzkill.

Shoot it.

Blow it out of the sky!

(GUNS FIRING)

(BEEPS)

Yes!

(LAUGHING)

Graboids don't make

good pets, Mr. Cutts.

AKLARK:
Preach on it, Burt!

(ALL LAUGHING)

Yeah!

TRAVIS:
Yeah!

MAC:
Mr. Gummer,

my plane's all packed and ready to go.

- Roger that.

- MAC:
By the way,

nice work.

(CHUCKLES)

Dad was right.

You are a hard-ass!

Tell your dad I said, "Hey."

Tell him not to drop in.

He's not really

the dropping-in kind of guy.

He's more of

the barging-in type.

This is gonna be one hell

of a story to tell back home.

Tell him I said you're a better shot

than he ever was.

Thanks, Mr. Gummer.

Call me Burt!

You know I won't be

in the Arctic Circle forever, right?

Six months,

I'll be back in the States.

You trying to get sweet

with me?

Definitely.

Never gonna happen.

I think it might.

Thanks.

For everything.

(EXHALES)

Travis, what have you learned

from me?

Uh, to not trust anyone

or anything ever?

You call that a goodbye kiss?

A man brings a big bore .44 Magnum

to a fight, not some broke dick .22.

Broke dick?

That was sweet dick.

- Oh, was it?

- Yeah.

'Cause that sorely lacked any kind

of velocity or stopping power,

not to mention

maximum penetration.

Okay, it's a little late to have

the guns-and-ammo

talk, Burt. All right?

Pathetic.

(ALL EXCLAIM)

(EXHALES DEEPLY)

- It was better.

- Better?

It was no .44 Magnum.

.357, maybe.

Dude, what do you know

about kissing?

I know enough not to unholster

my weapon unless I'm prepared to use it.

It's nice to see you back

to your old self, Burt.

What do you say we get on home

and get ourselves some real sunshine, huh?

Sounds like perfection, Pops.

Pops.

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John Whelpley

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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