The Fly II

[meeting with Stathis Borans, now a bitter, crippled recluse]

Martin Brundle:
I saw you on the videotape. You were...

Stathis Borans:
Don't sit there!

Martin Brundle:
You were there the night my father died; he was working on a cure.

Stathis Borans:
That's why you dragged yourself all the way out here? To find out about a cure?

Martin Brundle:
You're my only hope.

Stathis Borans:
Ah. Oh, kid, the last thing *I* am, is *anybody's* hope. You really don't want to hear about this.

Martin Brundle:
I *have* to know.

Stathis Borans:
Brundle stole my girl, your mother. Got her pregnant. Caused her death. Dissolved my hand and my foot with fly vomit! I had no love for the man. He "bugged" me! As for the "cure" he was working on: he dragged your mother kicking and screaming into that telepod, that they might be fused together in one beautiful body. So your mother blew his brains out with a shotgun. *There's* your *cure*. Go *away*.

Beth Logan:
You bastard! Where's your compassion?

Stathis Borans:
[chuckles] I had to give it up; it cost me an arm and a leg!

Martin Brundle:
It cost you more than that.

Beth:
You can't walk... and you're getting worse...

Martin Brundle:
I'm getting...*better*!

[from videotape, actually a deleted scene from THe Fly 1986]

Seth Brundle (on videotape):
I should feel exactly the same as before, but...I don't! I feel...very...energized, very coordinated. I feel as though I work better physically. You know, everything seems to work better than it did before.

Veronica Quaife (on videotape):
Why should that be?

Seth:
I dunno...It's possible that the teleporter somehow...*improved* me. It might have seen where things could be improved, theoretically, and it did it. I told it to be creative, and...I dunno, maybe it has been...

[first lines]

Veronica Quaife (on videotape):
Oh, my God! There's something wrong! I can feel it!

Anton Bartok:
[to Martin] You can finish your Father's work. You're just as brilliant as he was, perhaps even more so.

Anton Bartok:
[to Martin] I hope you and I can be very good friends, one day. Well, I know we are. I want us to... I want us to be more than just friends. I want you to think of me as your Dad. Huh?

Martin Brundle:
You mean this is mine? This is my place?

Anton Bartok:
Your place. Your private place. No more mirrors. No more prying eye. Well go on, take a look.

Martin Brundle:
Something odd is happening to me and I don't know what it is.