(SIRENS WAILING)
(INDISTINCT RADIO CHATTER)
(PANTING)
Hey! That son of a bitch just stole my pants!
What day is it? What year?
May 12, 1984.
The day you arrive.
LAPD! Freeze!
(GROANS) All right, that freakin' hurt.
- Garber, you okay? - You tell me, O'Brien.
You're human. Hey, you got to let me go.
Face down! Hands on your back, or I will shoot!
Listen to me... (GROANS)
KYLE: Hey!
It's coming, all right?
You need to listen to me, or we're all going to die.
YOUNG O'BRIEN: I had it under control. (CHUCKLES)
GARBER: Yeah, okay, T.J. Hooker.
Here's what you don't do your first day on the beat.
Use lethal force on the delusional homeless guy.
By the way, you're filling out the paperwork on this.
(GROANS)
YOUNG O'BRIEN: Garber!
(GUN CLICKING)
Shit.
That's got to be an alien, like from outer space.
It's a machine that kills humans.
- Uncuff me! - No! You're under arrest!
What part of "kills humans" is confusing to you?
(GUNSHOTS)
Handcuffs!
O'Brien. Officer down. We need backup.
It's a robot!
- We're screwed, aren't we? - Pretty much.
Come with me if you want to live.
Now, soldier!