Lethal Weapon 3

[Flames roar]

[Sirens blare]

[Tires screech]

Riggs, Homicide.

COP:
Nobody's dead.

RIGGS:
The night's young.

This is Sergeant Murtaugh.

RIGGS:
Threat or scare?

COP:
Real thing.

COP:
He saw the device.

MAN:
It's on Level 1, by the gas pumps.

I wrote the license plate number.

That's okay, sir. Thanks a lot.

RIGGS:
You evacuated the building?

COP:
It's clean.

ROGER:
Where's the bomb squad?

COP:
Coming.

ROGER:
Good. It's under control. Let's go.

I think we ought to check this out.

ROGER:
Riggs?

RIGGS:
What?

- Bomb squad's coming.

- There's no bomb!

- How do you know?

- Because it's a full moon.

Moon, lunar, lunatics. They're everywhere.

RIGGS:
Is that Greek?

ROGER:
No, Latin.

You surprise the sh*t out of me.

There's no bomb.

It's probably a false alarm.

It happens. He probably saw a radio

on the back seat.

Let's not mess with it.

Wait for the bomb squad.

You're right. You sit tight,

I'll be right back.

What's the matter with you?

- There's a bomb in there!

- No, there's not.

- There's a bomb in there!

- There is not!

There's a bomb in there!

- You know how I know?

- How?

I've got eight days till retirement

and I won't make a stupid mistake.

There is no bomb!

I'll bet vital parts of my anatomy!

RIGGS:
Look.

Trust me. Okay?

That's usually my first mistake.

Hey, Riggs!

ROGER:
Hey, wait. I'm coming.

RIGGS:
Rog?

RIGGS:
Is your insurance paid up?

ROGER:
Of course. Why?

RIGGS:
There could be a bomb in here.

ROGER:
Oh, God!

ROGER:
I hate it when I'm right.

RIGGS:
Learn to trust your instincts more.

ROGER:
Oh, God.

The first impression

can often be the right one.

RIGGS:
Drive shaft...

I wonder if there's a bomb.

Just don't touch it.

Just looking.

[Riggs mutters to himself, bomb beeping]

What are you doing?

Don't open the door! Don't!

[Doorhandle clicks]

Son of a b*tch, just look at it.

That's all I'll do, just look.

There's more plastic than Cher.

RIGGS:
I love this job.

This is amateur night.

Open the door. I can't hear you.

RIGGS:
Open the door.

Don't do nothing.

Not that one!

ROGER:
You son of a b*tch.

RIGGS:
This is a pretty shonky job.

I can dismantle it.

It looks like Beirut to me. Let's go!

[Thud]

[Roger gasps]

Everybody's outside. Just me, you

and the cat are dumb enough to be here.

Nearly a cat-tastrophe, huh?

- Relax, Rog. Relax.

- Right.

Don't do nothing.

We've got 9 minutes and 7 seconds left.

You know what we can do?

We could drive it out.

Fine, it's your turn to drive.

No keys. I could hot-wire it.

Don't even say "hot-wire"

around this stuff!

You're right.

Why am I doing this? Why?

I'm going to have to do it

the old-fashioned way.

What are you thinking?

ROGER:
What are you thinking?

- I'm thinking we should cut the blue wire.

- Wait!

- That's not what I think.

- You think maybe the red?

No! No!

I'm thinking it's 8 minutes and 42 seconds.

We can go upstairs, wait for

the bomb squad, and have a cappuccino.

The bomb squad never gets here on time.

And it's 8 minutes, 31 seconds.

Rog, please.

Forget the cappuccino.

- You know what they'll say?

- "Get the f*** out of here!"

But then they'll say: "Let's cut

the blue wire," which I'll do right now.

- Wait, wait!

- What?

How can you be so sure?

It's just a hunch.

A hunch?

Remember the bomb under your toilet?

- How could I forget?

- Red wire, blue wire, same thing.

This is more simplified,

but a bit more powerful.

From where I sat, I couldn't see.

Forget it. Come on, trust me.

Trust you?

Guess not. I'm cutting the red wire, okay?

Ho... ho...

What? What?

A minute ago you said blue!

I did?

You said blue!

- I meant red.

- Sure?

We can do it your way.

ROGER:
[Yells] My way? I don't have...

RIGGS:
[Whispers] Quiet!

I'm sure, okay?

Ah, sh*t!

RIGGS:
Ready?

Rog?

What?

Won't you miss all this good stuff

when you retire?

RIGGS:
Won't you miss it a little bit?

[Riggs chuckles]

RIGGS:
I'm cutting the wire.

RIGGS:
Snip. All done.

RIGGS:
Rog...

ROGER:
Yeah?

Grab the cat!

Grab the cat?

RIGGS:
Get out of there! Take cover!

[Thunderous explosion]

[Riggs and Roger yelling]

[Glass and debris shattering]

[Low rumbling turns to silence]

[Both groan and sigh]

COP:
Where are they?

[Cat meows]

Bravo.

[Sirens blaring]

Whoops.

Right. Whoops.

Right.

[Cat meows]

ROGER:
Seven days till retirement,

I'm busted down to patrolman.

I should've cut the red wire.

- You did.

- No, I cut the blue wire.

That's what I meant.

- We should've waited for the bomb squad.

- Must I hear this every day?

- Every day until I retire!

- That'll be a week too long.

- My feet are killing me.

- They're killing me, too.

- How?

- I have to listen to you b*tch about them!

- Because you should've cut the red wire!

- I did cut the red wire!

What's this?

It's kind of soft... not a bulletproof vest.

It won't keep anything out.

It'll keep my stomach in.

What've you got under there?

It's a girdle.

What?

It's a girdle!

Does Trish know?

It's not a woman's girdle.

It's a man's girdle!

- They make girdles for men?

- Yeah!

- They do?

- Yeah, they do!

I haven't worn this uniform in 15 years!

- Cleaners must have shrunk it.

- You should take it to Chin.

ROGER:
I did take it to Chin. Look at it.

It shrunk all up in here.

ROGER:
I have to hold my breath.

Did you see that?

ROGER:
See what?

RIGGS:
Jaywalker.

Jaywalking?

Hold it right there, pal.

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