Alien 3 script
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The stinger of a second Alien whips around the neck of one of the other two
Marines; the Alien is clinging to the ceiling. He screams. Tully's Marine
sags against the foot of Ripley's capsule, his arm across the controls -- the
green indicator lights go out -- as the first Alien lunges up INTO VIEW.
On the jaws.
ANGLE ON RIPLEY
Her eyes snap open.
As the beast mounts her coffin, terminal nightmare.
Her hands claw frantically at the smooth curve of the plastic canopy.
The remaining Marine, crazy w
ith adrenaline and terror, unleashes his flame
thrower. The first Alien and Ripley's capsule vanish in a napalm fireball.
The Marine spins, screaming incoherently, and liquid fire hoses the second
Alien, which drops its victim and falls burning into the deck.
The vault is an inferno. Ripley's capsule is sagging, melting.
A scorched hypersleep capsule is wheeled in under brilliant lamps. The
waiting crisis team plug bio-monitor leads and a HISSING air-supply line into
sockets on the capsule. A technician with a small hand-held power saw
begins to cut away the heat-crazed canopy. Hands in surgical gloves lift the
Ripley lies curled in a tight fetal knot.
INT. ANCHORPOINT -- MEDLAB QUARANTINE
A small white room, a white bed surrounded by medical gear. Hicks, in his
underwear, is hunched on the edge of the bed, impatiently smoking a cigarette.
The dressing on his head and shoulders have been changed. Spence enter
wears a biohazard envelope over coveralls, bubble-goggles, a transparent
You know you can't smoke in here?
He takes a puff.
I'm Spence. I'm not a medic, I'm from the tissue
culture lab. I have to get a sample.
She opens a small white case and takes out a gleaming cylinder.
Uh, just stick your thumb in here.
Hicks gives her a hard look, inserts his thumb; she touches a stud -- SNIK! --
he winces, look ruefully at his thumb.
(putting the tissue-
You're the last one...
(grabs her wrist)
The others. Ripley, Newt -- they came through
Rebecca. Rebecca's fine.
Ripley's fine, Hicks.
Bishop. Where's Bishop?
(carefully, worried that
she's gotten in over her
There were three of you. Three that I know of,
anyway. Maybe you should try to sleep now.
You want the nurse? They can give you something...
(leaning forward, still
gripping Spence's wrists)
Why haven't I been debriefed? Where's the brass?
All I know is, we've all been sleeping short
hours since your ship came in, soldier.
A CRASH from the corridor, a pained BELLOW, and Newt scuttles in, wearing a
hospital gown. She backs into a corner as a large ORDERLY rushes in,
clutching his right hand. Like Spence, he wears biohazard gear.
Goddamn it! She bit me!
He starts for Newt. Hicks comes off the bed like he's mounted on springs,
hand cocked for a trained blow. The Orderly backs off.
Where's Ripley? Where is sh
(straightens out of hand-
to-hand crouch without
losing any of the threat)
She's asking you a question.
You looking to get yourself sedated, Corporal?
Where is she?
Now I'm asking you the question...
Spence yanks her mask down in a reflexive, very human gesture. Move slowly
toward Newt, extending her hand.
Rebecca... Newt. Honey. It's okay. Ripley's
going to be okay. C'mon now, I'll take you,
you can see her...
Spence, there's no way --
He moves to stop them, but Hicks takes a very deliberate step forward.
INT. MEDLAB -- ANOTHER ROOM
Ripley lies in a coma, monitored
by assorted white consoles. Her forehead is
taped with half a dozen small electrodes. Newt, expressionless, walks slowly
to the bedside as Hicks and Spence look on.
(she and Hicks exchange glances)
Sometimes people need to sleep... To get over
Newt looks up at a monitor that display's Ripley's EEG. Watches the jitter of
peaks and valleys.
Is Ripley dreaming?
I don't know honey.
It's better not to.
EXT. RODINA, THE U.P.P. STATION -- VARIOUS ANGLES