The original version seems way better than what we saw in the film. Fifield, stoned, grabs the centipede from behind Millburn, starts teasing him it him, messing around, before the rest of it goes down.
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FIFIELD AND MILLBURN, now holed up safely in the desiccated remains of the AMPULE ROOM.
Millburn taps on his WRIST CONSOLE -- VWWWWHR -- INSIDE HIS HELMET -- a SMALL STRAW slowly rises up to his lips. He takes a long SIP --
MILLBURN
Yum. Gazpacho.
Fifield, meanwhile, is getting something entirely different from his straw... exhales a LUNGFUL OF SMOKE into his helmet -- taps his wrist -- FWAAAASH! -- The smoke VENTS out through the suit’s EXHAUST. Millburn can’t believe his eyes --
MILLBURN (CONT’D)
What the hell’re you doing?
FIFIELD
(isn’t it obvious?)
Smoking.
MILLBURN
You put tobacco into your respirator?
FIFIELD
Sure, man. Tobacco.
Millburn looks at him. Fifield grins goofily. Draw your own conclusions. Then --
FIFIELD (CONT’D)
Hey. Don’t move.
Millburn TENSES. Nervous --
MILLBURN
What do you mean “Don’t move?” What’s --!?!
FIFIELD
-- Just calm down.
Fifield crosses over to him, gently reaches behind Millburn’s head and DAMN -- Carefully removes an AWFULLY BIG CENTIPEDE.
MILLBURN
JESUS -- Get it off me!
Fifield holds it up -- Christ -- It’s at least TWO FEET LONG. THICK. It’s head looks like a HAMMERHEAD SHARK. The centipede glistens in the liquid from the MUCK at their feet -- muck from the broken AMPULES.
FIFIELD
She’s a big one huh? Must’ve been drinking the soup we’re standing in.
MILLBURN
Just get rid of it.
FIFIELD
Shhhh. I think she likes you.
Fifield turns the Centipede towards Millburn, LAUGHING --
FIFIELD (CONT’D)
C’mon. Give her a kiss --
MILLBURN
-- Goddammit, put it d--
-- AND JESUS IT HAPPENS FAST. In a SECOND, The centipede SHOOTS onto Millburn’s ARM -- COILS ITSELF AROUND all the way up to His SHOULDER.
FIFIELD
What the...?
MILLBURN
-- OH GOD GET IT OFF!!!!
Fifield is suddenly no longer stoned. He reaches forward, digs his hands into the centipede, but --
IT REARS IT’S HEAD -- HISSES LIKE A COBRA! Fifield steps back, FREAKED THE FUCK OUT as Millburn STUMBLES BACKWARDS, CLAWING AT THE CENTIPEDE BUT --
Now’s it’s JAWS UNHINGE LIKE AN ANACONDA -- It’s mouth wraps around Millburn’s HAND AND WRIST as the rest of it’s SEGMENTS abruptly LOCK DOWN AND TIGHTEN --
MILLBURN
AHHHHH! MY ARM!!!! IT’S CRUSHING MY ARM!