Tremors 3: Back to Perfection Page #5

the seismo-monitor I gave you?

It's not working very well. I think

the batteries are dead or something.

Come on, Burt.

It's been, what, 11 years?

Yeah, Burt here.

Talk to me.

Hey, Burt, was that siren noise

for real, man?

- Affirmative.

- No me chingas.

- You on your roof?

- Damn right I'm on the roof.

Have you checked

your seismo-monitor?

Any graboid activity

near your ranch?

Burt, that aerial thing, it got bent,

man. I've been meaning to fix it.

Well, now it's all hands

on deck, Miguel.

So, I suggest you bug out A.S.A.P.,

maintain a steady speed on your truck...

and report to H.Q.

at Chang's, you copy that?

The good news is

there's only three of them.

- How do you know that?

- A few years ago,

I installed a geophone

monitoring system around the valley.

Data transmits to my laptop,

gets triangulated.

It's all based on Rhonda LeBeck's

geological research.

- I sell all her books.

- The comics were better.

- Totally.

- Shh!

They're moving slowly down from

the north, just like last time...

from Jasmer quadrangle,

straight down the valley...

- into Calypso quadrangle.

- Huh?

- I think he means Cactus Flats.

- Why can't he just say it?

So, what do we do?

Your little jungle boat ride

is over, mister.

Time to fish or cut bait.

Yeah, yeah,

so what-what do we do?

Burt, excuse me,

but we're not cut off this time.

We don't have to act like a bunch of

militia nitwits. We can call for help.

Nancy, since no one has bothered to

maintain or monitor their seismic equipment,

we have no idea how long

the graboids have been active,

and therefore no idea

when they may become shriekers.

We can't wait for the authorities

to bumble into this.

We are the authorities.

So, what do we do?

We hunt them down.

We wipe them out.

We go at dawn.

These are perfect.

- How many do you have in stock?

- Eleven.

Need to requisition

all of them.

Whoa, requisition.

That mean I'm getting reimbursed?

- Not today.

- How does this work?

Killin' them

with a toy truck?

- Graboids hunt by sensing...

- Sound. I know. I know.

A graboid hears a toy truck,

goes after it just like a cat to catnip.

- It's in the comic books.

- The second he swallows it, you detonate the explosive.

Boom! End of worm.

Explosive. Where we gonna

get the explosive?

This not being an officially

sanctioned event...

I've provided something

of my own design.

Don't worry about Burt.

He knows what he's doing.

It's like his thing.

Put these on my tab, okay?

- Let's mount up and move out.

- You don't have a tab!

Jack, I'm going with you.

No, you're not.

Yes, sir?

Good morning.

Mr. Gummer?

Morning.

Agent Frank Statler.

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