[all the prisoners call Aaron "85"]
Ripley: What's this "eighty-five" thing?
David: A couple of us sneaked a look at his personnel file the day he arrived. It's his IQ.
[Ripley gets out of bed naked]
Ripley: Wanna get me some clothes, or should I just go like this?
Clemens: Given the nature of our indigenous population, I would suggest clothes. None of them have seen a woman in years.
[under his breath]
Clemens: Neither have I, for that matter.
[the prisoners hesitate to go against the alien and ask why they can't wait for the company to bring them some guns]
Ripley: Because they won't kill it. They might kill you just for having seen it but they're not gonna kill it.
Aaron: That is crazy! That is horse shit! They will not kill *us*!
Ripley: When they first heard
about this thing, it was "crew expendable". The next time they sent in marines - they were expendable too. What makes you think they're gonna care about a bunch of lifers who found God at the ass-end of space? You really think they're gonna let you interfere with their plans for this thing? They think we're - we're crud. And they don't give a fuck about one friend of yours that's - that's died.
Not one.
Ripley: How 'bout leveling with me? Well, when I asked how you got assigned here you avoided the question. And then when I asked about the prison ID tattooed on the back of your head you ducked me again.
Clemens: It's a long, sad story. And more than a little melodramatic.
Ripley: Try me.
Clemens: [smiles] If
you insist. After my student years, despite the fact that I had become secretly addicted to morphine, I was considered to be most promising. A man with a future. Then during my first residency I did a thirty-six hour stretch on an ER. So I went out and I got more than a little drunk. Then I got called back. Boiler had blown on a fuel plant and there were thirty casualties. And eleven of them died.
Not as a result of the accident but because I prescribed the wrong dosage of painkiller. And I got seven years in prison and my licence reduced to a 3C.
[pause]
Clemens: At least I got off the morphine.
Ripley: Are you attracted to me?
Clemens: In what way?
Ripley: In that way.
Clemens: Very direct.
Ripley: I've been out here a long time.
[last lines]
Ripley: [playback of a recording, interrupted by static] Ash, Captain Dallas are dead. Cargo and ship destroyed. I should reach the frontier in about six weeks. With a little luck, the network will pick me up. This is Ripley, last survivor of the Nostromo, signing off.
Ripley: I just wanted to, um, say thanks for what you said at the funeral. My friends would have appreciated it.
Dillon: Yeah, well you don't wanna know me, lady. I'm a murderer and rapist of women.
Ripley: Really?
[pause]
Ripley: Well, I guess I must make you nervous.