Tuesday, December 3, 1996


OK, kids. It's a movie trailer for the latest Billy Bob Thornton vehicle ...

This time, it's a glimpse at a dark, not-too-distant future that could happen in our lifetimes. Yattayatta. OK.

Run the trailer.

Montage of 2019 LA. Dangerous Replicants walking around. Scary music.

ANNOUNCER: The year is 2019. There’s a new kind of android in the City of Angels. They’re called Replicants. Four are walking the gritty streets right now. They look like us, but they sure as hell don’t like us. Problem is, they’re stronger and smarter and trained to kill.

Jump cut -- ROY crushing TYRELL's skull.

ANNOUNCER: And in a world where machines are better than people, it takes a very special person to fight back.


Holden is giving the V-K test to LEON to see if he’s a Replicant. They sit at opposite ends of a long steel table.

HOLDEN: Describe in simple words only the good things that come into your mind about your mother.

LEON: My mother? Let me tell you about my mother.

Beneath the table, LEON raises a laser pistol. Before he can shoot, CARL leaps down from the ceiling and cuts LEON in half, vertically, with his slingblade.

CARL: (holds up slingblade) This here’s a slingblade. Some folks call it a Kaiser blade.

HOLDEN: Thanks Carl. I owe you one.

CARL: Just doing my job, I reckon. Mmm-hmm. My mama never loved me. She was a whore.

CARL raises up his slingblade in a heroic pose. Freeze-frame.

ANNOUNCER: Meet Carl—Slingbladerunner. He’s on the case.


BRIAN shows CARL the four escaped Replicants on a video display.

BRIAN: This is bad, Carl.

CARL: What’m I looking at’chere?

BRIAN: New model.

CARL: Mmm-hmm. They look like models. Kinda pretty like.

BRIAN: No. Replicant models.

CARL: Replicants. That there’s them robots with skin on ‘em, mmm-hmm.

BRIAN: Nexus 6. They’re smarter than you.

CARL: I reckon that there toaster is smarter than me. Mmm-hmmm. But I take your point.

ANNOUNCER: He’s on the hunt.


CARL watches ZHORA taking off her costume.

CARL: That there your snake?

ZHORA: No, idiot. It’s my schlong. I took it off and it wriggles around by itself.

CARL: I reckon you’re mocking me.

ANNOUNCER: He’s on dangerous ground.


RACHEL and CARL confront each other.

RACHEL: You going to kill me?

CARL: Nah. I reckon I ain’t gonna kill you. (holds up slingblade) You sharpened my slingblade real nice.

RACHEL: I love it when you talk dirty.

CARL: I ain’t talking dirty. I’m retarded, brain-damaged some might say. I reckon retarded folk ain’t inclined to say one thing what means another. They just say what they wanna say, mmm-hmm. You got nice titties, mmm-mmm. See? Kinda like that.

RACHEL: That test. You ever take it yourself?

CARL: Yeah. I failed. I hate tests.

RACHEL: No empathy?

CARL: No. Too much empathy. I sorta feel sorry for everybody.

RACHEL: But you don’t mind killing.

CARL: Killing. Mmm. Killing folks like you is what you mean. People what sorta ain’t people.

RACHEL: Killing Replicants? That’s OK?

CARL: I reckon Replicants ain’t got souls, so's that makes it OK.

RACHEL: That’s what it says in the Bible?

CARL: Well. I reckon mine’s the one with pictures.

ANNOUNCER: He’s on borrowed time.


ROY, shirtless, is stalking CARL. He howls like a wolf.

ROY: Owwwooooo! I’m coming for you, Carl.

CARL cuts off his head.

CARL: I reckon I got here first.

ROY'S HEAD: Ow. That hurt.

ANNOUNCER: Slingbladerunner. He’s not the sharpest tool in the chest.

Triumphant close-up, Carl holding up his bloody slingblade.

ANNOUNCER: But his slingblade is.

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