Escape From Hockeytown, Part III

We now continue with MYFO’s Classic Movie Adaptation of Escape from New York. In today’s segment, Snake McCarty is being prepped to get dropped off in Detroit to retrieve Commissioner Bettman. Unfortunately for Snake, Mike Babcock has a trick or two up his sleeve. Enjoy.

Part I of Escape from Hockeytown can be found here and Part II right here.

INT. EQUIPMENT ROOM – NIGHT

Babcock talks as we PAN ACROSS a table full of gear. We see two sticks, a belt, skates, several pouches full of various stuff, a flashlight, an Uzi, pucks, and more. Snake surveys them with a cool expression.  

BABCOCK

Some of them have zambonis. They took old junkers that were left behind and converted them to run on steam. We think they may also have a gasoline source in there, and power. Greenhouses rigged up. Generators. Some areas have streetlights. The Puckheads live in the People Mover. Complete control of the city. They’re night raiders. 

Snake’s not into this. He’ll figure it out when he gets there. He picks up a bracelet with an octopus on it. 

BABCOCK

Tracer. Sends a radio signal for fifteen minutes. You push it, we can track you on radar. Just like Adirondack. But they added something. A safety catch.

Snake pushes the safety catch. Simple enough. And yes, there’s the button. This is familiar. He smiles.  

INT. HALL – NIGHT

Snake has his jacket slung over his shoulder now. He walks down the hall to the trainer’s room with Babcock. Van Sant has disappeared.  

SNAKE McCARTY

Where am I landing? 

BABCOCK

Top of the Joe Louis Arena. Only place you can land. They won’t see it, and you can take off from a free fall. On the roof there’s a service elevator. It’s still operational. We use it to infiltrate the rink. There’s a power box. It’ll activate the elevator down to fifty. From there on down you walk.

Snake shrugs on his sweater. He knows Babcock is just trying to assert his authority, and it’s not working very well.  

BABCOCK

You can locate the Commissioner by his vital signs bracelet, on his wrist. It sends out a sig pulse. Use this.

He hands Snake a homing device. 

BABCOCK

Homing device. Shows directions and distance.

INT. TRAINER’S ROOM – NIGHT

Snake and Babcock walk into the room. They’re met by a young trainer. 

BABCOCK

Cortisone. Stops the pain and cramp-proofs you for 24 hours.

Snake braces himself against a table. The trainer is holding an injection-type tech gizmo.  

TRAINER

Take off the jersey.  

SNAKE McCARTY

I’ll be OK.  

BABCOCK

Let’s go, McCarty.

Snake shrugs off his jersey, disoriented by the place. He’s nervous.  

SNAKE McCARTY

I don’t like needles.

Babcock straps a timer gauge onto Snake’s left hand. He activates it and the time blinks on. It’s counting down as we speak.  

BABCOCK

Twenty-two hours, twenty-nine minutes, fifty-seven seconds…  

SNAKE McCARTY

We talked about twenty-four.  

BABCOCK

In twenty-two hours the Hartford Summit meeting will be over. Nashville and Atlanta will go back home. The Commissioner was on his way to the Summit when his plane went down.  

Snake snorts.  

BABCOCK

He has a briefcase attached to his wrist. The document inside has to reach Hartford in 22 hours.                      

SNAKE McCARTY

What’s in it?  

BABCOCK

You know anything about league expansion and franchise relocation?  

Snake turns away. No, league expansion and franchise relocation are not his areas of expertise.  

BABCOCK

It’s about the survival of the National Hockey League, McCarty. Something you don’t give a shit about.

Babcock steps aside. The trainer swabs Snake’s neck on both sides.  

TRAINER

I’m going to inject you. It’ll sting for a second or two… 

He raises a couple of hypodermic needles and injects Snake with them. Snake jumps a little; clearly, this is not one of the world’s most pleasant things.  

BABCOCK

That’s it, McCarty.

Snake gets off the table. The trainer turns around.  

TRAINER

Tell him. 

SNAKE McCARTY

Tell me what? 

Babcock thinks he’s got him this time. Snake doesn’t like that.  

BABCOCK

That idea you had about turning the Gullfire around 180 degrees and flying off to Canada.  

Babcock shakes his head. Snake puts his jersey down and turns to the trainer.  

SNAKE McCARTY

What did you do to me, asshole? 

BABCOCK

My idea, McCarty. Something we’ve been fooling around with. Two microscopic capsules lodged in your arteries. They’re already starting to dissolve. In twenty-two hours, the cores will completely dissolve. Inside the cores are HGH and other assorted steroids. Not a lethal dose.  Just enough to – (he gestures to his chest, simulating bitch tits) – make you fail a drug test. I’d say your career will be over in ten or fifteen seconds. 

Babcock stops talking because Snake has grabbed him by the throat.  

SNAKE McCARTY

TAKE THEM OUT NOW.  

TRAINER

They’re protected by the cores. Fifteen minutes before the last hour is up we can neutralize the charge with X-rays.  

Snake lets go of Babcock to look at his watch. 22:57:38.   37. 36. This is his career he’s watching tick away.  

BABCOCK

We’ll burn out the charges IF you have the Commissioner.  

SNAKE McCARTY

What if I’m a little late? 

BABCOCK

No more Hartford Summit. And no more Snake McCarty. 

SNAKE McCARTY

When I get back I’m going to kill you. 

BABCOCK

The Gullfire’s waiting.

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1 Comment

  1. It’s showtime


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