Swamp Thing

NOT LONG AGO, IN THE UNEXPLORED|REACHES OF AN UNMAPPED SWAMP,

THE CREATIVE GENIUS OF ONE MAN

COLLIDED WITH ANOTHER'S EVIL|DREAM AND A MONSTER WAS BORN.

TOO POWERFUL TO BE DESTRO YED,|TOO INTELLIGENT TO BE CAPTURED,

THIS BEING|STILL PURSUES ITS SAVAGE DREAM.

So there's the swamp.|Where's the nearest good restaurant?

Depends. If you're a human,|it's back in Washington.

But if you're a 'gator,|could be right where we land.

Thank your lucky stars|you're comin' in at the end of this.

Holland insisted on building it all out here.|He said this is where the life is.

One of those life forms|nailed the guy you're replacing.

What? They sent a woman out here?

- Where are you goin'?|- Couldn't take it any more.

Well, he lasted longer than most.

(radio crackles)

Boo.

(snake hisses)

No!

Weird, isn't it? The local fishermen|say this place is haunted.

I don't know where we are, Toto,|but this sure isn't Kansas.

What?

Nothing.

Used to be a church until|about 50 years ago, then the levee broke.

It's just been us and the deer flies|for the last ten weeks.

Welcome back, sir.|What did Washington say?

That's confidential.

- (man) It's OK, Miss. I got it.|- But you can start packin'.

All right.

(man) Where's this go?|Give me a hand over here with this.

What does Holland think|about going back to Washington?

I doubt he's been told. Ritter couldn't|believe me when I gave him the news.

- Do you think Washington's paranoid?|- Do you think the Pope is Catholic?

This is your place.

You probably haven't seen half this stuff.|It's all new. This is a laser...

Laser-induced subsonic field generator.|Gives double readings in the 3200 band.

I got a trick for fixing that.

They send someone who knows what|she's doin' the week they pull us out!

What's he working on?

- Who?|- Holland.

This thing is so hush-hush, no one asks.|Something to do with plants.

(man) Where the hell's my man?|I thought he was back.

Hey, Charlie!

The emperor calls. Come on.

Hey, you know there's a...

What's going on here?|Get those crates into the church.

You men in the boat! What are you doing?|Get that damn thing outta sight!

Lamebrains!

Charlie, welcome back.|And this is Hank's replacement?

Cable, Harry Ritter,|Project Field Supervisor.

One of your sensors|is reading malfunction.

Not surprising.|They rot in a week in these swamps.

Charlie, did you get them|to change their minds?

No. They want him and the substance|in Washington where they can watch him.

Anything wrong?

A rumour. Somebody's heard|Arcane's gotten wind of the project.

- I thought Arcane was dead.|- He is. Who said that Arcane's onto this?

Nobody's taking credit for it.|You know Washington.

All it takes is one loudmouth|to spill this to Holland

and the whole project goes to hell,|do you know that?

Yes, sir.

That goes for you, too.

Come on. I keep the number of people|near to him at a minimum.

This admits the three of us,|and the Hollands.

It was programmed for your prints|this morning. Try it.

The stuff I have put up with - alligators,|bugs, snakes, and now rumours.

Charlie, I want to hear everything|about the Arcane business, now.

What about that sensor in sector three?

Get somebody to take you there|and take a look.

Me?

In the swamps?

- Any luck there?|- Wiggle your fingers.

Lose a contact lens?

Funny.

Well, don't just stand there.|Give us a hand. Right about in the middle.

Please?

I dropped a Cooper's digger.

Would you look under the rocks, please?

Go ahead.

What's a Cooper's digger? A shovel?

Nah...

Just Alessandro.

He's got a little one-celled animal living|in his fur that makes a terrific host.

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