Journey 2: The Mysterious Island Page #4

We gotta trust Verne!

You know what I trust? Gravity.

Gabato, get us out of here now!

You're right, I agree with you.

But here's the deal:

I'm not flying this helicopter anymore!

The throttle's...

...broken!

What?

We're going down!

Hold on!

Here we go!

No! Not like this!

Hang on! Hang on!

Sean!

Sean!

Come on, buddy.

Come on.

It's okay. It's okay.

Try and sit up.

Attaboy.

I told you it'd work.

You were right.

I can't believe we made it.

It's Jules Verne, man.

You gotta believe.

Where are we?

Where's my father?

Somebody help me!

Help me!

My body's been cut in half!

Your foot's right there.

My severed foot.

And it's moving!

It's moving.

Oh, and I'm still in one piece. Yay.

Well, you were right.

There is an island.

Not much of one.

- This is not what I was expecting.

- All right, guys, listen up.

We have to gather up everything that

washed ashore and take stock of our supplies.

We need to find shelter. Let's go.

There you are, baby. I thought I lost you.

Oh...

Oh, yeah. My girl.

Hey, I think I found

a way off the beach!

What was that?

It's a scary noise in a dark cave.

Keep moving. Keep moving. Go, go.

If this is heaven, I'm checking in.

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you...

The Mysterious Island.

What is this place?

Whoa!

This island, it shrunk us!

Or turned us into giants?

Sean, what does Verne say

about this?

It's one of the first laws

of island biogeography.

Small animals become large

and large animals become small.

Lilliputian. Swift alluded to it

in Gulliver's Travels.

I'd like to keep him as a pet.

I could knit him a little trunk-warmer.

See you, buddy.

Hey, check it out.

You guys see that smoke?

- That's gotta be my grandpa's campsite.

- How do you know?

What else could it be?

The natives sparking up a barbecue,

getting ready to cook us for dinner.

Only one way to find out.

Whoa, time-out!

I hope your grandfather's okay,

but my father and I aren't going.

- We're headed back to the beach.

- To do what?

Spell SOS with seashells

and maybe kelp.

Kelp? There's a boat-eating,

plane-eating hurricane out there 24/7.

Nobody's gonna see your kelp.

Sean's absolutely right.

We stick together, find his grandfather,

use his radio to call for help.

Fine.

Just know that if we get torn to bits,

I'm blaming you.

I'm blaming you too.

Real smooth.

What did I do?

Seriously, what did I say?

What did I do?

SPF 100?

You squeeze it

and a sweater comes out?

Yeah, that's funny, Navy man.

Don't come crying to me

when you're as red as a tomato.

Do I look like I burn?

Oh, man...

...that's one gooey rock.

No one move.

These aren't rocks.

They're eggs.

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