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Condemned, The (2007)
I want him.
Bella, talk to me. New 30-second spot's ready to roll. Great. Cut a few images in of this new guy. That mug's priceless. - Eddie, how you trackin'? - We're hot. - How hot? - White hot. I got "A" team blitzing chat rooms and blogs. "B" team's buying ads and placing the spots. Site's getting 700 hits per minute. - Awareness on porn and fight blogs: 92%. - Bella's got a new 30. I want you to run that across every sex, fight and gamer site now. Hit the gamers hard. - Got it. - Push it, people. Push it. Somewhere, someone on this planet does not know about this show. Asia, Africa, Antarctica. There's a fucking Eskimo sitting in his little igloo... who does not know that we go live in 22 hours. Find him. Get him. Eddie. Ninety-two? I want a hundred. - You got it? - You got it. Did you leave... No more oranges today. That's it for the oranges, okay? Throw it away. Is that solo ready? Is it ready? You know where to put it. - Hey, pal. - Hey. Just so you know, we're fucked. Oh, yeah. We are screwed. This show ain't happenin'. Goldman, come on. Talk to me. Where are we at? Where are we at? I've got 87 cluster-cams ready and rigged. I got 147 solos with all built-in mikes, okay? I got 60 to 70 all ready to go out in the field. - So altogether there's 400 lenses, right? - Great. But there are dead spots all over this island. I do not have enough time. This show is not going off. We are at war, Goldy. Gotta improvise, overcome, adapt. This is not war, Breck. This is television. It's much more complicated. I do not have enough hardware... and if you haven't noticed, we're in the middle of nowhere. Mango, do not touch. What did I say before? I told you an hour and a half ago. Do not touch. Thank you. And on top... Where are you going with that? Can I have that? Thank you. Here's the really cool thing. I got these all-stars. It's really great, because between the lot of them... they all speak three words of English. So I'm supposed to run an operation... that is basically bigger than Farm Aid meets We Are the World... and I'm supposed to do it in sign language? Are you out of your mind? Do I look like Quincy Jones? - Breck. - You know, it's all gonna work out. - You know why? - Why? 'Cause you're the best. - For the love of Christ. - Hey, babe. Donna Sereno just arrived. Good. She know the score? Tomorrow morning. You're her top story. But be ready. She's a tough nut. She's the big dog. Want the big press, gotta go to the big dog. Right. Do it like that. All right. How do I look? I'd do ya. Yeah, but how do I look? Go get 'em. Lettuce? Do you want tomato or anything? Give me that freakin' sandwich. Go to work on my satellite. So, without a major network behind you, how do you plan to broadcast your show? The Internet. I've pulled 10 contestants from third world prisons. Each was on death row. I will free one of them. See, tomorrow, I'm gonna bring them here to this island... where I will give them a fighting chance at a new life. It's a fight to the death. One lives, nine die? You're airing a live snuff film. No, Donna. These contestants were already dead... condemned. I'm allowing one to live. Is that so wrong? It's immoral and illegal. You're a multimillionaire who may become a billionaire producing murder. I'm done with Hollywood. I'm going direct to my audience, worldwide and live. And my numbers will demolish any show on any network this year. Mark my words. Breck, we have a problem. I like to think of it more as a challenge. We just lost one of our headliners. What do you mean "lost"? - They shot my Arab? - Uh-huh. We had him on the mainland, and they shot my fuckin' Arab? Relax. Relax. Okay. We got a replacement. - How'd the interview go? - Smooth as butter. Replacement? Who? What? Where? What have we got? Jos Havanando. Hard-core Guatemalan. Convicted of 13 torture killings. He's ready to go. I don't want a fucking Guatemalan. I already got two Mexicans. Look. You see here? This is the Arab world. If they don't have anybody to cheer for, they don't log on. I want a fucking Arab! Child-killing, Koran-ranting, suicide-bombing Arab. Okay, okay. We're on. Our scout in Central America... has got a line on a 6'7" Islamic fundamentalist. He's in a joint in El Salvador. Warden's good to go. - He's ours if we want him. - Get him online. Crew's en route to the prison now. Hashim. Gringo, the warden wants you now. Tell the warden to go fuck himself. What's this all about? Bullshit. Can I go now? Who the hell is this guy? What have you got, Eddie? American. Arrested one year ago in San Miguel, El Salvador. Killed three men. Awaiting death sentence. Thank you, God. I thought you wanted an Arab. Forget the Arab. I got this guy. He's perfect. With anti-Americanism rampant all over the globe... people are gonna love to hate this cowboy. Clean him up. Let's bring him down. Get him on a plane. Come here. Give me the key. I'll do you a deal. Hey, come back. Americano, huh? Big boy. Gonna cut you like sazizza, capito? So where they pull you from? Put a muzzle in it, boy. - You're already boring me. - Who you callin' "boy"? "Ewan McStarley. London, England. Four years, Special Forces. Three peacekeeping tours through Africa. Set fire to a village in Rwanda. Executed 17 men, raped nine women." Torture. Mutilation. Good stuff. You ladies should get along real good. What in the fuck is wrong with you? All in a day's work, Rasta. Get this top off her. We're in show business, not a soup kitchen. Where's my new guy? The American. Right over there. Hey. I'm Ian Breckel. - I produce television. - Well, good for you. Maybe you heard of me. Bud, I ain't been watchin' too much TV lately. Why don't you have a seat? You and the others will be taken to an island... where you'll fight against each other. If you're the last one left alive after 30 hours... I will set you free with a pocket full of cash. - How's that sound? - What's this got to do with TV? Not TV. The Internet. I'll be streaming the entire event live across the World Wide Web. Your rap sheet's a little thin. "Jack Conrad, American. Blew up a building in El Salvador, killing three men." - What were you doing in El Salvador? - Workin' on my tan. - Why'd you blow the building up? - It was blockin' my sun. - What do you do for a living, Jack? - I'm an interior decorator. Okay. I see. Well, where are you from back in the States then, huh? - Alaska. - Alaska. Whereabouts? About 80 miles north of Anchorage. Little fishing town. You probably heard of it. It's called Fuck Your Mama. Babe, do me a favor. Why don't you write a bio for this redneck. Let's say he's from Arkansas. An arsonist, a racist, a KKK Klansman. Blew up a Baptist church. Fugitive from the FBI. Ended up in Central America... where he blew up a clinic for retards and handicapped people, killing dozens. Women, children, blah, blah. Do it right now. Get it to Bella. I don't know who you are, and I don't care. But I don't play games. You don't have to win... but everybody plays. Come on. Hey, boss. How about something to eat? Oh, yeah. Husband and wife. Lovers. You know, you can stick together, fight as a team... but the fact of the matter is, only one of you will get off the island alive. Easy. Easy. Easy. Hope you can run your feet as fast as you run your mouth. Easy, Rosa. Let's get out of here. Okay. Listen up, gang. On your ankle you all have a rig... packed with 20 ounces of plastic explosive. Twenty ounces. That's enough to incinerate you, your dog... and the small house you may be residing in at the time. In exactly 30 hours from now... that plastic explosive will do what it does best. You want that rig removed from your ankle... simply be the sole survivor in 30 hours from now. There are two other ways to detonate an ankle rig. One: You see that red pull tab? Yank on that, and after a 10-second delay... boom. Two: Tamper with the rig, you mess with the wires, you try and pick the lock... instantly, without delay... boom. It's a very simple game. Kill... or die. Choppers are coming. Cons are on the way. We ready? Goldy? What, are you kidding me? Absolutely not. - Bella? - Yeah. I was born ready. - Eddie? - Good to go. Bella, give me some old-school rock and roll. Goldy, our satellite gonna hold up? Hey, no. Bella, cue the music. Eddie. Take us live to the Web. And each of you- dead. Bite this. Hey, gringo! I'll look after your wife! Okay. Give me 182-B. That's genius, Goldy. I tell you, man. You're the best. Say that again. I'll be waiting for your ass in the bush! It's going to be a festa! Breakfast, lunch and dinner! Okay. You're up. Let's go. Open up! Open your mouth! I said open your mouth! Put that in your mouth! Get out of here. - Oops. - Oops? That's no "oops." That's a fuckup times 10. Give me this. Hey, idiots. Watch where you're tossing these guys. I got a fucking show to put on. Open up. Open your mouth. Come on. Open your fuckin' mouth. - Goddamn it! - He never saw that coming. You dumb son of a bitch! Eddie, talk to me. We got 'em all in a nice little cluster on the south end of the island. - Good. - It's only a matter of time. - Breck. - Action. We got action. Get me in there. Bella, give me some music. All right. What have we got? We're on 23, 24, 31... all good angles. We're on 23 now. This is hard-fucking-core, man! That's gotta hurt. She's pulled it. She's pulled it. Sweet! - That's what I'm talking about, people. - Nice. Very nice. Go to 112. Right! Oh, bam! Five million! - Listen up. People. Breck. - What? Five million users have just logged on to the site. Okay. Well, that's a start. That's a start? Well, what are you after? You know how many households watch the Super Bowl? - Yeah, like 40 million. - Right. That's what I'm after. - Well, that's impossible. - Yeah, really? You wait till the blogs and chat rooms... start hyping the fact that this right-wing dirtbag just got wasted live... by a hot African chick with a nice rack. Trust me, Goldy. The Internet... it's wildfire. Good work. You trackin' me? Are you following me? No, ese. Partner, you can move on or things are gonna get a little rough. Easy, ese. I'm looking for my wife. That's all I want. My Rosa. Gringo, try this. This shit is fucked up. Now that's what I'm talkin' about. - What's your coverage here? - Cluster-cam set. Got three additional cameras in this location. Let's spice it up then, huh? Slice and dice. Yeah. I'm slicing and dicing. Do I tell you how to do your job? Thanks. Calm down, homey. Get down. - Nice. - I love this Japanese dude. Come on. Who's your money on? Who do you like? Guys, could you please go back to your space, 'cause this is kind of like my space. Come on, nigga. Motherfucker! Lovely day, don't you think? No, you settle down, son. Bit lively this morning, ain't we, tiger? I saw you fight the spade. Pretty ballsy for a little geezer, isn't ya? The way I see it... you and me clear some of this scum up on the island. Together. A team. Alliance. You and me. You understand? You want these? They look better on you. Hold on right there, big man. Slow down. Just slow down. If you stay down, we don't have a problem. We have a big fuckin' problem. Hey, Breck. Something's going down. I got two cons right on top of each other. It's Conrad and the big dude. Goldy, what are you, blind? - What? - Get this screen up on the live feed. - Okay. I got it right here. - Music, Bella. Music. Now, Bella. Okay. We're on 202 now. Zoom in. Hold on a minute! - Hey, Breck. - Yeah. Twelve million. We just hit 12 million subscribers online right now. Hey. You hear that, Goldy? Twelve million. Yeah. Well, 12 million still isn't 40 million. - Still ain't no Super Bowl. - Not yet. Bella, Eddie, replay that fall in super slo-mo until we get something better. Ian Breckel. Where is he? What do we know? He could be streaming the data to a server from almost anywhere. I've contacted Interpol. They're collecting information from agencies all over the world. The island is somewhere in the South Pacific. I got World War II historians and regional experts... examining the images from the Web site. Between Indonesia and New Guinea there are, like, 2,000 tiny islands. Needle in a haystack. Ten prisoners in this thing. Two of them are American. One is Kreston Mackie. African-American. He escaped incarceration... 2002. Ironically, two years later, ends up on death row in Malaysia. - What about the other guy? - I can't find a thing. It's like he doesn't exist. I just got a tip on the hotline about the American, Jack Conrad. Shoot. The guy who recognized him on the Internet says they went to high school together... only he says his real name's Jack Riley. US Army, retired. Until a year ago, he was living in Texas. Then he disappeared. Vanished. Family, friends... no one's heard from him since. He had a girlfriend named Sarah Cavanaugh. Divorced, two kids, works as a waitress. Gimme the ball! - Got ya. - Let go of me! - No, you! - Mikey. Off your brother. - You two get yourselves cleaned up. - Hey, come back here! Dinner in 30. Hello? Sarah Cavanaugh? Yes. This is Special Agent Wilkins of the FBI. I need to ask you a few questions about Jack Riley. Hey. You're early. Mike, can I get on your computer? - Sure. - You got high-speed, right? - Why? What is it? - It's Jack. Come on. Come on. - What's goin' on? - It's loading. What do you see? Come on. What is it? They want my credit card. - Okay. - What you got? Jack. - Holy shit. That's Jack. - Yeah, I know. I'm sorry. "KKK member"? - Hey. What's it say? - Wait. What's it say? "Bombed a clinic for the handicapped and the mentally retarded"? - "Fled to El Salvador." - El Salvador? It's all lies. I gotta see this. Try the live stream. Paco. Very romantic. I can't remember. Did I tell you how sexy I thought your missus was? Come on, Mr. Angry. Speed, baby! That's what that is! Come on! Paco! Don't you just love it when that happens? Calm down. Calm down. I'll fucking slap you, you keep on. Just want to be friends. I didn't want this. How is that? The knee? There, there. You smell that? That's love. Love in the air, that is. You're a lucky man. That is one fit bird you got there. Paco! Rosa! Easy, son. Easy, easy. That's no way to treat a lady. Is it, sweetheart? Fiery little thing, isn't ya? Little wildcat. Have a look at those titties here. Please, no! No! Stop! Rosa! Fuckin' bitch! Rosa! - Paco! - Watch this, hombre! - How many angles do we have on this? - This is all we got. Well, this coverage is no good. Eddie. Where's the live unit? Not far. Get 'em over there. Keep still! Eddie. Numbers. We're climbin'. Around 15 mil. Stop this. What? What? Stop this. Baby, come on. She's a killer and a whore. She's a human being. Yeah. Who went on a killing spree with her husband. They were gonna execute her in Guatemala. Remember? No. No. This is wrong. - This is sick. - You know what? The drama... I want it up there. Not here. Okay? Please. Ian, how can you let this go on? It's just happening. And we're shooting it. It's not my doing. It is your doing. You set it up. I put 10 people out there, and whatever happens, happens. Pure reality. - Yeah. - No intervention. Where the hell do you think you're going? Fresh air. What? You're getting all soft on me, are you? I'm gonna hear a crybaby story from you too? Or are we just having a crisis of conscience? No, Breck. It's not... It's... It's... It's not exactly easy to watch. But I'm with ya. Eddie, are you with me? Hell yeah. I love this job. Bella? I love what I do. We're a team, Breck. Good. You know, Eddie and Bella, you two give me hope for the future. That's one angry bitch. Don't worry about him. He won't get far. Amigo, what happened? Amigo, talk to me. - What's goin' on? - I'm gonna kill them. We've got company. Just keep it down. Come on. You help me to kill them. Together we could kill them both. You're not making sense. They took her like a dog. They cut her. And they made me... You help me to get them. You help me to... No, I'll help you stay alive. Get yourself together. - Now get up. - I can't, ese. My knee is broke. Calm down. I don't want to kill you. I just want to get this bomb off my leg. You can trust me. - He's letting her go? - For fuck's sake. What is this? Friendship Island? How's your knee? I can't walk. I can't fight. I can't do nothing but limp around with this fucking stick. You kill them for me. You kill both of them for me. Hey, I'm sorry, amigo. There's something I gotta do. What you gotta do? I saw a weather tower on the north end of the island. There's gotta be a radio in there. You call for help? We're light-years from help, man. So who you call? You got a woman... or a wife? Yeah. Something like that. Drop a Christmas bag to McStarley. Give him the works. Send him to the Japanese ruins. I'll take that. Think that's got my name on it. We got everything but a kitchen sink in here, mate. We got knives... Look at this. Cigars. Someone up there likes us, boy. We've won the fucking jackpot, mate. You better limber up, son. We got a show to put on. Settle yourself down a bit. Jesus. What you doing? You see that? GPS. I don't like being tracked. Hey, Breck. Conrad kind of just vanished. - Vanished? - He's gone. He's not on my grille. I just lost his signal. You got some water. Take this. Found him. Where's he going? I don't know. Keep an eye on him. Yeah. We have to drop the investigation into Jack Riley. Two Americans are trapped in this thing, sir. Brad, this is not a conversation, okay? Just hours ago, you told me to get to the bottom of it. Now why are you telling me to drop it? When you started digging into Jack Riley... you caused a lot of people a lot of stress where I work. - And where is that? - The Pentagon. This is Wade Meranto, DIA. We know all there is to know about Jack Riley. Is he a killer or not? Well, he's probably killed more men than anyone on that island. He did 14 years Special Forces detachment Delta. He retired, but his old boss... my boss... calls him up from time to time. Black ops. Ayear ago he was sent to El Salvador to demolish a Vallejo drug plant... profits being used to fund our enemies. Got the job done, killed several men... all known drug traffickers with the Vallejo Cartel. And he got caught. He traveled with bogus papers in the name of Jack Conrad. His real name and who he worked for was never uncovered... although they tried. So you let him fry in a Central American prison for an entire year? People like Jack Riley get paid well. And they get hired for the same reason they get fired... to keep DC brass clean. It's politics. It's bullshit. Nope. Okay. Breck, as you can see, the American-Yul Brynner... he is gone. He is off my monitors completely. I had him and then I lost him. And the reason why I lost him is because he is headed towards us. And I did not rig cameras where we are at. And quite frankly, it's disturbing. - Relax, Goldy. - You know what? I'm gonna relax when killers and rapists are on the other side of the island. Is that cool? I'll find him. You two take the jeep. We'll take the dogs on foot. Let's go. Take the south road, do a circle and come back. Yep, you got it. - Check the perimeter. - All right. This is Zodiac here. ...65 degrees. Take one of these. Hello? Sarah, it's me. Sarah? Jack, are you okay? Just listen. I don't have much time. Why haven't you contacted me? For your own safety. Did you think I walked out on you? I didn't know what to think. I've been through this before. And then... - And then you leave me. - Sarah, listen to me. Why? I did not walk out on you. I love you. I love those boys of yours like my own. You understand that? - Jack, I... - Hold on. Hold on. I'm not through. Grab yourself a pen. Write this down. Cross National Bank. - 2543456. - Jack, what is this? What are you doing? I got some money saved up. It ain't much, but I'll feel better knowing you have it. Maybe it'll help things out around the house with you and the kids. Money? You know I don't want money, Jack. I want you. And I want you to take this just in case. Just in case? Ayear ago, you say you're leaving for work... and I don't hear from you till now? Where've you been, Jack? You gotta tell me what's going on, Jack. - Just listen to me. - You gotta tell me now. I want you back here with me. That's all I want. Tell me you're coming home. Do you understand me? I need you. I need you back here with me. Breck, we got a breach of the gate. He's in the tower. - What's goin' on? - It's Conrad. He's here. Oh, great. That's nice. Right here with us. Shut the tower down. Kill the generator. - I gotta go. - No, wait. I spoke to an FBI agent. Where are you? Tell me something. They've got nothing. - Jack? - I'm here. Hang on. All right. Write this down. Latitude 7.549282. Longitude is... Jack? Jack! Stay back. I'm coming. No! God. There he is! Fuck! Move it! - He's out! He's out! - Go! Go! Hi. May I speak to Agent Brad Wilkins? - I'm sorry. He's in a meeting. - It's urgent. All right. Riley's contacted Sarah Cavanaugh with a coordinate. The island's somewhere on the seventh parallel. I got it right here. Please tell me that we're gonna do something. Jack Riley did a year in a Salvadorean prison. Interrogation. Torture. He never gave up a word. All to protect you... his country. What a woman like you do to end up here? Plenty. You know we're gonna die. I fight till the end. This is the end. Wake up and have a cup. Are you okay? Threw me from the chopper. I landed wrong. How's that feel? Awful. Just awful. Stop, please. Stop. - You want me to stop? - Oh, yeah, stop. Hello. I think they're gonna get it on. You say the last time you trusted a woman... you ended up on death row. What happened? Well, get this. I'm bein' transferred to Folsom. A stroke of luck. In transit, I bust out, make my way to Mexico. I'm off to Malaysia. And I got nothin'. I set up my own hash spot. I started seein' this native girl. Beautiful... sweet, sexy. I'm in heaven. I'm rich, I'm free, in love. She get nailed on some bullshit possession charge. She tell the cops everything. Man, when they come, I got You know what that means in Malaysia? Death row again. It's just gonna take some time before I let my guards down. You know what I'm sayin'? You feel me, baby? Hey, baby, where you at? Bitch got me again! Motherfucker! Not again! Not again! Not... Very clever. Smokin'. - What the hell just happened? - Another one bites the dust. The black American dude, gone. Get this off and get on something else now. Okay? Change it. Oh, nice. Mexican's down. For the count. Jesus Christ. Sun ain't even up and the Mexican's having another bad day. McStarley's back. This is gonna be gnarly. Okay, cover the mess. You're deadI Good times. Twenty-eight million I D's are logged on... - Hit him again! - watchin' beaner boy get his ass beat. He's not even trying. He's my boss... and yet he's my best friend. A genius. The man could sell dirt to a ditchdigger. We've both been sold. I know. Goldy, we have to stop this. Let me get hold ofhim. Hold on. This is not reality. You manipulated this. You sent them there so they could do this to an injured man... who's already watched his wife get... Don't tell me you won't intervene, because you already have. Twenty-eight million people watching something I created. And not a single network gets a piece of it. It's too much for me, Breck. I mean, I knew what this was originally. But it is not okay now. It's too much. We have now crossed a line that is beyond the line that I thought we were gonna cross. All right. All right. Some of it's a little difficult to watch, okay? But it's essential. To create drama you need good guys, bad guys and victims. All right? That's storytelling. No. This is not a teleplay that you are writing. This is real. It's too fuckin' real, and I can't hold down food. Real? Nothing's real. CNN, ABC, MTV... all manufactured and manipulated just like this. To entertain. Goldy, do you think this guy had more dignity awaiting the electric chair in Guatemala City? Yeah. I do. You ungrateful son of bitch. I made you very rich. You do not come in here and team up against me with her. You understand? You both knew what you were getting into. Both of you. I'm done debating this. You make a choice right now. Either you're with me or against me... but I want your answer. Right now. Right now. What'll it be? I'm gonna finish the show. - You can't do the show. - I don't wanna hear it. - You know this as well as I do! - I don't wanna hear it! - I'm goin' back to the monitors. - Goldman! Goldy! Any idea how ridiculous you've sounded in the last 24 hours? What, are you trying to save some goddamn whore? I was trying to save you. Nice. - Hey! - Hey, Yank! - Where you been all night? - He's had enough! Enough? You think this little Mexican geezer's had enough? Shit! We ain't even started. Hit him again. Beauty! What do you think? I might hit him from here, Yank. Hold still, fucker! You're out! You like that, Yank? Yo, Yank. I got you down as military... like myself. Special Forces, SAS. Me and you, we got a lot in common. We got nothin' in common, you and me. That disappoints me. That makes you soft. But not me. I'm the real deal. This... I'm gonna do for you. Burn, baby, burn! Game on. - What is that place? - I don't know. Conrad. Get up! Come on! Go around! Shit. - You gotta be kiddin' me. - Try me. Bull's-eye! Come on, Yank! Show yourself! Get me inside that bunker. Show yourself! I'll put this right through your fuckin' heart. Son of a bitch. Get up. Get up. Come on. Come on, Yank! Oh, God. That's great. Torched the cameras. Both my cameras are torched. I got nothin' left inside. Run, baby. Go. Go. Yeah! Give me your hand. What are you doing? Hey, kid. Holy shit! It's Jack! Yeah! Yeah! All right! Let's go, sweetheart. Let's go. Just you and me. Let's dance, asshole. Not today. He won't, man. He won't jump. Fuck it. - Okay, so where are they? - I'm looking. - Come on. - I'm looking. Where are they? Find 'em. For God's sake. What, you don't have a camera down there? Do I look like Jacques Cousteau? I don't do underwater caves. - Hence, dead spots. - Eddie, what do you have? I got nothin'. For Christ's sakes. Found him. He's in the canyon. I've got angles, lots of angles. Get the live unit down there. Where's my boy McStarley? Yes. Happy days. Now for the big finish. You helped this maniac the entire time... manipulated the whole thing. He puts on a good show. I threw him a bone. Hey, Yank! You lookin' for me, you piece of shit? You dance, Yank? Let's see you dance now! - Come on, you fucker! - Cocksucker. Show yourself! I'll blow your fuckin' balls off! Fuck you. - Shit. - You want some more, you fucker? Come on! Let's finish this man to man! Hey! Show your bald head, you motherfucker! Show's over, Yank! What do you think this is? A fancy dress party? - I'm just a cameraman. - Film this. Merry Christmas. Come on! You motherfucker! How do you like this? Come on, Jack! Yeah! There you go! Come on, you cocksucker! Shit! Jack. No, no. Nothing we do as entertainers are gonna make a difference, all right? You just think about it. Just some of the games and the movies that we make... it helps them to escape into that world for 'em. You know what I mean? That's being a teenager, right? Teenagers... - They're just teenagers. - So, what about children? Kids all across the planet can log on and witness live murder? Yeah, sure. They can. If they have a credit card. Look, Donna, we, as entertainers... cannot tailor-make everything we do for children. It's the parents'responsibility to monitor what their kids watch. That's a cop-out, Ian, and you know it. You have to take some responsibility. Donna, I'm not forcing anybody to log on and tune in. I create shows people like to watch. I didn't create the demand. People like to watch violence. They always have. Probably always will. When I finished this interview, I was angry at one man... Ian Breckel. I now realize my reaction was simplistic. Over the past 24 hours, millions have logged on to his Web site. And with his success I am no longer angry. I am sad. Those of us who reward him... those of us who watch... are we the condemned? Until tomorrow, this is Donna Sereno. You'll be pleased to know they found the island. Navy SEALs will be there in one hour. It's too late. Hey, Breck, check it out. - Forty million. - 171 countries worldwide. Bella, you have the new highlights reel cut together? Done. Run that until we bring our winner back. We'll film a closing ceremony. We did it, Breck. - What do you got? - We've been spotted. US Navy. How do you wanna play it? Big choppers here? No. Just yours. They took the setup crew back to the mainland. All right. I'll collect my things. You meet me at the chopper in 10 minutes. And the crew? If the military's coming, they're coming for me, not them. It's my ass that'll fry. Meet me at the chopper in 10 minutes. Hi. What's up? Goin' somewhere, Breck? You lied to me. Where the hell are you goin'? - What's up? - What's up? The navy's coming. You can't just leave everybody here. You promised that you would take care of us. - You promised that we would go with you. - Things have changed, Goldy. Fuck that. I'm gonna tell everybody, shithead. Bella, Eddie, Julie... I'm tellin' everyone. We're comin', or you're gonna have a big fuckin' riot on your hands. Okay, okay. I'll take you, all right? I'll give you a million, cash. A million? We talked about five percent of the net. You owe me millions, not a million. You're a technician, below the line. You don't get back end. I don't get a... You motherfucking piece of... Don't, don't! Stop! Stop! Please, no. Don't! Congratulations. You won. You're free. How about takin' this bomb off my leg? Enjoy your new life. Hey! Don't take the piss. Where's my fuckin' money? You should be happy with what I'm giving you. You're a free man. Me and you had an arrangement. I give you a good show, I win it... you make me a free man. But a free man needs a big bankroll, my friend. Me and you, we had a deal. The deal is whatever I want it to be. You won 'cause I let you win. Keep him here. I'll be right back. - What's goin' on? - Sit tight. Don't touch me. I'll be right back. Got a spare smoke? I think I deserve one after the day I've had, lads. Good man. Can I have a light? Shut up, you ugly bitch! Shut your fucking mouth! One of you fucking twitches, I will blow you away! Startin' with you, four eyes. Where is he? - Where is he? - I don't know. Fuck! You want reality? Here's my fucking reality! God will not help you! I can help you! Shut up! You! You fucking coward! Shut up! Get some fucking order in here! Where are you fucking going? Now, have I got your fucking attention? Don't move, redneck. Thank you for the show. The show ain't over yet. I'm gonna kill you. I'm gonna kill you too, sweetheart. Yeah, whatever, you fuckin' hillbilly. Get up. Get up! Look me in the eyes. Do you enjoy watchin' all this? Do ya? I'm sorry. It's too late. Sit. Yeah. Take it easy, Yank. I didn't volunteer for this. No one got nothing they didn't deserve. I certainly didn't want to fight you. Bullshit. It's not bullshit. The military... they sent me to every hellhole on this fuckin' earth... just to do their killin'. Then they disowned me. Four years in an African prison... takin' it up the ass twice a day by the fuckin' natives. That's bullshit. Sounds like you had a hard life. Yeah. Good thing it's over. Get us out of here now! Fly the fucking thing! Shit! |
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