The Thing Page #3
FUCHS:
GARRY:
(surprised)
That far?
Garry directs his attention to Childs, the large black man
who had been working on the snowmobile. Next to him sits
Norris, the rugged-looking, fortyish, geophysicist, who
was one of the men being shot at.
GARRY:
You catch anything he was saying?
CHILDS:
Am I starting to look Norwegian to
you, Bwana?
Garry motions inquiringly to Norris.
NORRIS:
Yeah. I caught that he wanted the
better part of my ass to come apart.
INT. INFIRMARY
Dr. Cooper, mid-forties, works on the outstretched leg of
Bennings, the meteorologist. Clark, the dog handler, is
mending the hip of the wounded dog off in the corner.
Bennings lets out with an ouch.
DR. COPPER
Don't "ouch" me. Two stitches. It
just grazed you.
He helps a shaken Bennings up off the table.
BENNINGS:
What in the hell were they doing...?
Flying that low... shooting at a
dog... at us...
DR. COPPER
Stir crazy. Cabin fever... Who
knows.
The dog yelps and whimpers as Clark tries to calm him.
CLARK:
I'll be here a while. Shell's
pretty deep.
INT. RADIO ROOM
Blair, senior biologist, fifty, balding, leans against the
entrance door.
He looks on as the young, bored-looking radio operator,
Sanchez, attends to his equipment. Bursts of static.
SANCHEZ:
It's no go.
BLAIR:
Well, get to somebody. Anybody.
We've got to report this mess.
SANCHEZ:
Look, I haven't been able to reach
sh*t in two weeks. Doubt if
anybody's talked to anybody on the
whole continent.
INT. HALLWAY
Nauls, the cook, glides along on his roller stakes down
one of the many narrow hallways that connect the various
compartments of the main compound. He is black, a little
mischievous, about twenty-two.
He comes to a flashy skidding stop at one of the entrances
to the rec room area, where the men are gathered with the
dead Norwegian.
NAULS:
Maybe we at war with Norway.
Palmer, a spacy, twenty-seven year old, novice pilot and
mechanic, grins as he lights a joint. He directs a remark
PALMER:
Was wondering when "El Capitan" was
going to get a chance to use his pop
gun.
Translation
Translate and read this script in other languages:
Select another language:
- - Select -
- 简体中文 (Chinese - Simplified)
- 繁體中文 (Chinese - Traditional)
- Español (Spanish)
- Esperanto (Esperanto)
- 日本語 (Japanese)
- Português (Portuguese)
- Deutsch (German)
- العربية (Arabic)
- Français (French)
- Русский (Russian)
- ಕನ್ನಡ (Kannada)
- 한국어 (Korean)
- עברית (Hebrew)
- Gaeilge (Irish)
- Українська (Ukrainian)
- اردو (Urdu)
- Magyar (Hungarian)
- मानक हिन्दी (Hindi)
- Indonesia (Indonesian)
- Italiano (Italian)
- தமிழ் (Tamil)
- Türkçe (Turkish)
- తెలుగు (Telugu)
- ภาษาไทย (Thai)
- Tiếng Việt (Vietnamese)
- Čeština (Czech)
- Polski (Polish)
- Bahasa Indonesia (Indonesian)
- Românește (Romanian)
- Nederlands (Dutch)
- Ελληνικά (Greek)
- Latinum (Latin)
- Svenska (Swedish)
- Dansk (Danish)
- Suomi (Finnish)
- فارسی (Persian)
- ייִדיש (Yiddish)
- հայերեն (Armenian)
- Norsk (Norwegian)
- English (English)
Citation
Use the citation below to add this screenplay to your bibliography:
Style:MLAChicagoAPA
"The Thing" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 24 Apr. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/the_thing_546>.
Discuss this script with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In