Mosquito

Synopsis: An alien starship dumps a space-trash in a swamp in a U.S. National Park. Some mosquitoes begin to feed from the alien's corpses, causing them to grow to the size of a vulture. These mutant insects became very aggressive, killing every human being they find. Will the few survivors fight successfully against this nightmare...?
Genre: Horror, Sci-Fi
Director(s): Gary Jones
Production: ACME Films, Ltd.
  1 nomination.
 
IMDB:
4.6
Rotten Tomatoes:
60%
R
Year:
1994
92 min
48 Views


1

What did you hit, Ray?

I don't know, a bird or something?

You're the animal expert.

Why don't you go take a look?

I don't think this is a bird, Ray.

It looks more like... some kinda bug.

Bug?

Must have been a hell of a bug.

Boy, you sure did a number on this.

You know me Meg,

when I screw something up, I do it well.

This looks so familiar.

Ray! I think it's still alive.

Ah, shit.

What'd you say, babe?

Uh, nothing. Just nerves.

We're not going much further now.

This thing was stuck in the radiator.

Jeez, what a mess.

My God, this looks like a proboscis.

A what?

A proboscis, it's the mouth part

of an insect used for feeding.

Feeding on what?

I don't know,

it's hard to tell from the remains

what kind of insect it is,

much less what it eats.

Yeah, well, eating's the last

of its worries now.

Come on, let's go.

Maybe we should take it with us.

Why?

Well, I'd like to get it back to school,

take a look at it in the lab.

School?

I thought you were done with school.

I thought that's why we're up here,

it's time to get a real job and all that.

And I am, but Dr. Frank said

I could have access to the lab anytime.

This could be an important find, Ray.

I'm not putting that thing in my car.

It'll stink up the place.

We could wrap it up, put it in the trunk.

Forget it, Meg.

I can't just leave it lying

in the middle of the road.

Why not?

Yeah, I guess you're right.

Jump baby, jump. Oh, yeah.

Jump, baby. Spike the ball, baby.

Spike it!

Spike it.

Oh, yeah.

Hey, Hendricks?

I thought I saw a rabid badger

or something over there.

Yeah, sure.

Listen up.

Chief Marrow wants you to fog tonight.

Says the skeeters are getting bad.

A lot of campers complaining.

Yeah?

Well, you tell the chief

I got a stinger for him.

Why doesn't he get his fat ass

out of that chair and do it himself?

Just do it, Hendricks, and no wisecracks.

Oh, by the way.

You're on post tonight.

I'm supposed to get off in a couple hours!

Gotta do the time, Hendricks.

You got to do the time.

And then maybe someday...

you too can boss someone around.

Besides, I'm going fishing.

If you have a problem with it,

you can talk to the chief.

Gotcha.

You bastard.

Chief, you look really good.

Did you lose some weight or something?

- You know that...

- Shut up, Hendricks.

But, chief, we gotta talk.

Hold on, Hendricks.

I don't want to hear about it.

We got a real problem to deal with.

They're out there right now...

watching...

waiting for the right moment to strike.

Every year,

the little bastards get the fever.

Blood fever.

They can't help it.

They crave it.

Every second of their measly little lives,

they hunt for our life-giving blood.

Sometimes...

when you're asleep...

they stick it to you.

After they've had their fill,

they up and leave

without even so much as a thank you.

They must be stopped,

wiped out from the face of the earth.

Right, chief!

Now, Hendricks...

who's the best point man

I have in the platoon?

I am, chief.

That's right, Hendricks, you are.

Now, all those civilians

out there are counting on us

to make sure they get a good night sleep,

and we don't want to let them down, do we?

No, chief.

Good.

Now I want you to go out there

and lay down a fog cover

around the entire perimeter

of the campsite tonight.

Seal us in tight till reinforcements

can arrive tomorrow.

Reinforcements?

You mean we're finally

getting that park officer

we've been waiting for.

That's right. He'll be here at 1200 hours.

Now...

let's get busy and make the world safe

for Americans, shall we?

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Tom Chaney

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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