Escape from Hockeytown, Part II

We now continue with MYFO‘s Classic Movie Adaptation of Escape from New York. In today’s segment, Commissioner Bettman’s plane crashes into the wasteland of Detroit, Snake McCarty comes face to face with Mike Babcock for the first time and a possible alliance between the two is formed. Enjoy.

Part I of Escape from Hockeytown can be found here.

INT. BASE – NIGHT

Van Sant and Babcock watch a computer simulation of the plane.

VOICE

Computer simulation tracking NHL Honcho Number One.

EXT. DETROIT – NIGHT

The plane goes down.

 INT. BASE – NIGHT

 EXTREME CLOSE-UP – MONITORS

 As the plane smashes into a building, a red dot drops through the building. It’s the pod. 

O.S. MAN

It’s down!

BABCOCK

It’s the escape pod.

VAN SANT

40 degrees, 50 yards from impact.

BABCOCK

I’m going in.

 EXT. BASE – NIGHT

 Helicopters prepare for and execute launch and fly into Detroit. A guard watches them.

 INT. BASE – NIGHT

 Van Sant watches monitors as Babcock talks. 

BABCOCK

I-W-Larry. Over the battery. We’re moving down. Direct sight ahead.

 EXT. DETROIT – NIGHT

The helicopters land. A swarm of NHL Security runs out, and Babcock hangs back. He follows with a second swarm. The first swarm assumes a defensive position near the pod. Babcock examines the pod. It’s definitely empty, and the rest of the jet is surrounded in flames.

An odd LAUGH from nowhere.

CHRIS SIMON walks out of the darkness. He nods his head to Babcock.

 SIMON

You touch me… he dies. If you’re not in the air in thirty seconds…he dies. You come back in… he dies.

Chris Simon takes a package out of his shirt and unwraps it to reveal the Commissioner’s middle finger, complete with his Jostens High School class ring. 

SIMON

Twenty seconds.

BABCOCK

You psycho son of a bitch. You belong here. I’m ready to talk.

 SIMON

Nineteen. Eighteen.

BABCOCK

What do you want?

SIMON

Seventeen. Sixteen.

BABCOCK

Let’s go. Let’s go!

Simon grins in triumph and waves a skate over his head as the security force swarms back to the helicopters and hauls ass out of Detroit.

INT. BASE – NIGHT

Van Sant stands behind a desk, talking on the phone. Babcock is in the foreground, looking pensive.

 VAN SANT

Yes, he’s right here, Mr. Deputy Commissioner Daly.

Babcock picks up a phone. 

BABCOCK

This is Mike Babcock… We can’t. If we move in with choppers, they’ll kill him. We’re lucky if he’s not dead already… They don’t want anything yet. By the time they figure out what they want, it’ll be too late. 

VAN SANT

Tell him we have to go with your plan now.

Babcock waves him off. 

BABCOCK

We can’t wait until tomorrow. If we have to move in and take the city, it’s a last resort. It’s 8:45. I want permission to try a rescue. Thank you.

INT. BABCOCK’S OFFICE – NIGHT

Babcock calmly arms a .45 pistol. He looks up from his desk. 

BABCOCK

All right.

 OVERPROTECTIVE NHL SECURITY GUARD

He’s dangerous, sir.

BABCOCK

(with quiet confidence) I know. I’ll be OK.

BABCOCK’S POV:

We see the silhouette of an unmistakable figure. It’s Snake McCarty all right, live and in the flesh. The guards leave. Snake walks into Babcock’s office and sits down in the chair across from Babcock. He raises his cuffed hands to Babcock as if to say “Take these off me, asshole,” but he doesn’t actually say anything. Babcock shakes his head.

 BABCOCK

I’m not a fool, McCarty.

 SNAKE McCARTY

Call me Snake.

Babcock puts on his glasses and proceeds to read a scouting report. 

BABCOCK

D. McCarty. Canuckistanian Winger. Red Wings Special Forces Unit, ’93-‘04, OHL Jim Mahon Memorial Trophy Winner in ’92, participant in Fight Night at the Joe in ’97, where you justifiably demolished Claude Lemieux. Twice through rehab and filed bankruptcy in ’06. Sentenced to play out the rest of your career in the IHL and AHL. I’m ready to kick your ass out of hockey altogether, Grindliner.

Snake could not care less. He reaches forward with his still-cuffed right hand, picks up a cigarette, picks up a match with his left hand, strikes the match and takes a drag from his cigarette. He lets out a calm breath and says: 

SNAKE McCARTY

Who are you?

BABCOCK

Babcock. I run this city.

SNAKE McCARTY

Mike Babcock…

BABCOCK

Ex-Head Coach. Anaheim, umm, Mighty Ducks. We heard of you, too, McCarty.

SNAKE McCARTY

Why are we talking?

BABCOCK

I have a deal for you. You’ll receive full contract for the remainder of the season, including the playoffs.

Babcock shows Snake the contract. Snake’s eye lights up. This is something he wants. He’s interested now, and can’t hide it. 

BABCOCK

(pressing his advantage) There was an accident about an hour ago. A small jet went down inside Detroit. The Commissioner was on board.

SNAKE McCARTY

(re-establishing control over the conversation) Commissioner of what?

BABCOCK

That’s not funny, McCarty. You go in, find the Commissioner and bring him out of that hellhole that is Detroit in 24 hours, and you got yourself a contract.

We sense amusement from Snake. This is not the first time the League has asked him for a favor – the Claude Lemiux beatdown comes to mind. But he’s not an NHL player or a “Grind Liner” anymore. He knows they need him more than he needs their contract. He’s holding the cards now, and he knows it. 

SNAKE McCARTY

Twenty-four hours, huh?

 BABCOCK

I’m making you an offer.

SNAKE McCARTY

Bullshit.

BABCOCK

Straight just like I said.

SNAKE McCARTY

I’ll think about it.

BABCOCK

No time. Give me an answer.

Snake turns away. Babcock is pushing way too hard, and Snake is determined to be in the driver’s seat. 

SNAKE McCARTY

Get a new Commissioner. This dickhead is fucking it all up anyway.

 BABCOCK

We’re still on Versus for Christ’s sake, McCarty! Fucking Versus! He’s the only one who can fix this! We need him alive. 

SNAKE McCARTY

I don’t give a fuck about your television contract… or your Commissioner.

 BABCOCK

Is that your answer?

SNAKE McCARTY

I’m thinking about it.

BABCOCK

Think hard.

Snake pauses to take a draw on his cigarette. 

SNAKE McCARTY

Why me?

BABCOCK

You’re in a lame rock band during the offseason. You’re broke and divorced. You’ve got nothing to lose. Plus, you’re all I’ve got.

 SNAKE McCARTY

I guess I go into that shithole either as a player or a prisoner. Doesn’t mean shit to me. Give me the paper.

BABCOCK

When you come out.

SNAKE McCARTY

Before.

BABCOCK

I told you I wasn’t a fool, McCarty.

SNAKE McCARTY

Call me Snake. 

To be continued…

 

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3 Comments

  1. I am enjoying this, even if no one else is. To the Netflix! And throw in They Live for good measure!

  2. You know, Kurt Russell sorta looks like Kronwall…

  3. I was really hoping for a picture of Adrienne Barbeau, or as my dad used to call her: Adrienne Bar-Boobs. I miss my dad.


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