Rollerball

They're ready.

Three photographers, $250 each.

- I thought it was 400 each.

- Kid, areyou in or out?

I'm in.

Here to thebridge,

winnertakeall.

Ifthe copsgetyou,

you're onyourown.

Right here, man.

Look out!

Beautiful!

Kid, smile.

Give me room, will ya?

Sh*t!

You almost got me killed,

a**hole.

You son ofa b*tch!

Grab hold.

Oh, sh*t.

- Marcus Ridley, how the hell areyou?

- I'm good.

- How long haveyou been back, bro?

- Three weeks. Spent it with my kids.

-I miss them when I'm over there.

-I'll bet. Why don'tyou bring 'em back?

Looks likeyou can afford it.

Look at all these baubles.

So what happening, man? What's

goin' on? Still tryin' to kill yourself?

- Something like that.

- What happened to playing pro?

I thoughtyou got picked

for the minors last fall.

Yeah, well,

that didn't quite work out.

You know,

Coach wanted me to play D.

- Whatyou do? Hit him?

- I should've.

-Wastin' your life.

-I just haven't gotten the break I need.

You know, NHL tryouts

are in three months.

John, the breakyou need

is right here.

They'll coveryour travel,

giveyou a 5K bonusjust for showin' up.

And ifyou make the team-- pow.

Ah, come on, Rid.

That's a circus, not a sport.

- It's a pretty sunset though.

- It's the mines.

- What is?

- The dust makes the sunset red.

Look. Come on.

We both know cash is king.

I last two moreyears,

I have enough to retire...

support my family for life.

They love Americans there, especially

baby-faced, boy-next-door types.

It'll bejust like high school.

You run; I block.

Besides, it's where even a dufus-assed

white boy likeyou can get laid.

- Is that right?

- That's right.

I appreciate the offer,

but I should stick around, you know?

- This is myyear to make pro.

- I tried. Good luckwith that.

My flight leaves at 9 p.m. tonight,

in caseyou changeyour mind.

- Thanks for savin' my ass today.

- Anytime.

In another unit, yeah.

They're out back.

Central Asia

Central Asia

Four Months Later

- You'd betterwalk.

- What? What's the matter?

It's Sunday.

The mines are out.

Oh, sh*t.

Okay! Thirty seconds to go!''

I don't understand a word

you're sayin' to me, sweetheart.

But maybe ifyou say it louder,

I won't understand you even better!

I get it. Your nipples get hard

at the very sight ofme, right?

A new bio on the kid.

Now he's a rodeo champion.

Rollerball

Cue the chant.

Jonathan.Jonathan.

...Lone Star, Texas.

The Lone Star state--

Hailing from the wide-open plains

ofTexas...

a former rodeo champion

and the first-round draft pick...

by the prestigious National Hockey

League back in the States.

Considered the next Wayne Gretzky...

he turneddownaking's ransom

from the NHL toplayhere...

inarealman's league.

- Holy sh*t.

- Thesurebetforrookie oftheyear...

who kills his stubble each morning

with a Wilkinson Sword Tri-flex.

Hereheis,

your veryownJonathan Cross.

Please, please, my friends.

Sit down. Have a seat.

You are his boy. Looks

like Alexi's got some hot investors.

- Vodka!

- Vodka!

- Thereyou go. Enjoy.

- You gotyour armadillo on?

Jesus, you're an idiot. Serg!

You wanna be a paraplegic?

You have any idea what those guys

out there can do toyour spine?

- Gotta catch me first, Rid.

- Right.

- It's your face.

- Yes, Mother.

At least do it up.

Stubborn bastard.

Okay, Toba. Big roar now.

Let's hear it. Let's go.

- Great roar, Toba!

- You hang tight up there, okay?

- You too,Jonathan.

- All right.

Hi, I'm the new guy--

All right. Listen up, thugs.

We got our butts kicked last game...

but the headhunter's

not goin' down again.

- Areyou? I didn't hear an answer!

- No!

Let's give 'em something to think about

in case we see 'em in the play-offs.

That means teamwork,

so no more cowboy, hot-dog dog sh*t.

Can't we all just get along,

Dutch?

Aurora's right.

''No more cowboy, hot-dog dog sh*t.''

When the Red Horsemen went

to the Golden Horde last month...

they came backwith their tails

between their legs.

Nowthe Horde

comes to Horsemen town.

The wordis ''rematch''...

andthe Horsemen

hopeit's spelled ''payback. ''

A team must go

around the track twice...

maintaining possession

ofthe rollerball...

before they can score.

It's really that simple,

as simple...

as using a Lifestyle female condom

before sex.

The ball must be held

at all times.

Playergearmaybe only used

to dislodge theball...

orpreventascore.

A teamgainingpossession

mustfirstdo therabbithole--

that's thatkillertunnel

above eachbench--

thenmake one circuit

through enemyterritory...

andthen they're eligible

toscore.

All you really have to know is

there's only one way to score...

and that's when a player

takes one ofthe balls...

wingsitatone oftheirongoals

hardenough tosetoffthepyro.

Therestoftherules

are Russianandcomplicated, andwe--

What's it gonna be, U-Chow?

Us or them? Us or them?

Patience, Outlander.

Thegodsnotyetready.

Wegotsomebiggoons overthere,

people. Watchyourbacksides.

Skull Face

Tenseconds, the firstball.

Firstball wagers closein tenseconds.

Five, four...

three.

- It's us! It's us!

- Go, go! Denekin, move!

Ballsaway.

It's rollerball!

Firstplayoftherollerballgame

is underway.

Hegoes through therabbithole.

This one'sgettingstartedearly.

Hotshot on the way.

It'sa 12-footjump.

Yeah!AndJonathan Cross

is in enemyturf.

He crossesbackaround. This game--

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