Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

You're pretty far out, Snake. I mean, cool.
three, two, one!
We'll have to start all over again.
Which way to the Hollywood Bowl?
It's true. I represented the guy who invented it.
This is the only free zone left... anywhere.
The more things change, the more they stay the same.
Take the wrong street, you're dead.
Of course, there is an antidote,
Talk, gringo, or I'll rip your balls off.
I used to see you a lot when I surfed, on the Police Channel.
and bring me the real unit.
Kill him...
Somehow, Cuervo Jones managed to tap into the VR master data bank.
You are Snake Plissken, aren't you?
I think we're lost.
The United States Police Force, like an army,
- Yeah. - Me, too?
These are no good.
draw.
That's how I was when they first deported me.
Disappear.
Mr President.
Hands on switches and counting.
The City of L.A. Can FUCKIN' Kill anybody!!!
Hey, Snake, what are you doing here anyway?
Swear to God, Eddie.
Get inside the chopper. It's bulletproof.
Save it for when it counts.
Get vaxxed?
Where'd you get these rigs, Carjack?
Wait a minute.
Hey, did you find Cuervo, man?
It's pretty neat, huh? It's Cuervo's car. He lets me use it.
All right, now this is set.
Bangkok rules?
This is serious, Plissken.
Four minutes.
- We're almost set up, Cuervo. - Good.
Listen, Malloy. This guy's got more heat around him than the President.
- You got it... Snake. - One question.
500 extra rounds.
"Silence Is Golden, No?"
We don't even know if he knows how to work the goddam thing.
Shut-down - 25 minutes.
Put that black box in my hand, and you're a free man.
We're throwing out the trash.
For God's sakes, don't do it, Snake!
Maybe... maybe they're all dead.
He did it.
What do I look like, a fucking tour guide?
Just passing through.
By the way,
Cuervo Jones is holding all the cards now, sir.
I don't need to know your problems, I just want my black box.
Really.
I'd love to take care of you...
Commander, we're receiving reports.
I expect that back, Eddie.
An immediate answer.
Still packing a gun between your legs.
Your countdown clock has now terminated function. Your time is up.
You are now entering the deportation centre.
You're just a chump like the rest of us. No deal!
Plissken.