First Blood: Alternate Ending
After killing the Sheriff and the Colonel with the M60, Rambo swivels to face the sound of police cars squealing to a stop outside of the station. The camera zooms in on his intense and blood splattered face, the red and blue lights from the police cars sweep across his features. He grimaces at them as they take up firing positions and growls out a warriors howl as he unloads on them, the action slows down to slow motion as we watch emptied brass cartridges litter the floor as he fires on full auto. The screen fades to black as the darkened station strobes with brilliant light from the muzzle flashes.
The scene changes to a rundown and sparsely furnished office where an Asian in sweaty and loose fitting clothing is closely watching the news feed on an old news teletype; outside the dirty windows we can see tropical foliage. As he is reading the news ticker a large subtitle appears on the bottom of the viewers screen which reads VIETNAM.
He sees something interesting on one of the sheets and pulls down his eyeglasses which were resting atop his disheveled head so he can get a better look. His lips move as he reads the article, and a smile begins to creep across his features.
He tears the story from the feed and runs over to a nearby room nearly tipping over a watercooler along the way, “Comrade Chien, I think another of our ’sleepers’ has activated.” Another Asian male looks up from his cluttered desk, his eyes barely clearing the pile of papers in front of him, “Are you sure?” Excitedly waving the perforated paper he exclaims, “Yes, yes. And this is the best one ever!” The man seems unconvinced and says nothing. “No, really, I have a good feeling about this one.”
Rubbing his nose he ponders, “Alright Binh, if you are so sure, what is the name?” “Aaaah,” squinting at the print, “Rambo, John Jay Rambo.” The other man rolls his office chair over to a set of filing cabinets covered with stacks of papers and old books; he opens one of the cabinets, “Spell it for me…” “R-A-M-B-O.” After a moment he extracts a thick file, “Here it is, John Jay Rambo,” he sets it on a nearby table and opens it, “oh yeah, I remember this guy. He was a tough one.”
The first one walks over and looks down on the file, “Never could crack him heh?” “No, he would give up no information, no matter what we did to him.” “So you brainwashed him then?” The man shakes his head, “No that would have been too obvious, we planted suggestions in his head using hypnosis,” he smiled, “it was almost too easy, he already felt betrayed by his people for having abandoned him and not coming for him.” “So you used that anger and feeling of betrayal against them?” He nods and leafs through the paperwork. “What then?” He stops and looks up from the aged paper, “We allowed him to escape, never knowing that he was a ticking timebomb.” Binh stopped and pondered what he had learned, “And the Americans never suspected anything?”
He smiles and smiles and shakes his head, “No, and the way the Americans treated their veterans when they came home only helped promote our programming, one by one they have gone off and wreaked havoc.” “Like time bombs.” “Yes and the silly Americans only have themselves to blame, had they treated the returning soldiers with the dignity they deserved it may not have worked.” He pointed to the paper in the fellow’s hand, “So what did our ‘sleeper agent’ do?” He holds it up and reads from it, “Um, well; basically he wiped out an entire small town in Washington State.”
He leans back in the chair and rubs his face, “Wow, that is impressive,” he blinks in disbelief, “is he still alive?” The other man scans the article again, “Uh well, they say that the National Guard was ineffectual and finally had to call in an air strike, the entire police station has destroyed by 4 500lb bombs.” The seated man crosses his arms and snickers, “But did they find a body?” He reads it again, “Hmmmm, no, there is no mention of a body,” he looks up from the paper, “you don’t really think?” The seated man shrugs, “Hey, he was good at what he did, who knows right?” He cleans his glasses and smiles, “Oh Chien, that would be something… Our own terrorist, committing guerrilla attacks on American soil.” Binh leans back and smiles, stretching and knitting his hands together behind his head, “Sweet revenge for all the broken promises and pain the Americans have caused.”*
*All in subtitles, translated from the Vietnamese of course
The scene changes to a manhole cover on a deserted street. It slowly lifts up and slides over. A dirty and wounded Sylvester Stallone peers out of the shadows and then gingerly climbs out dragging a duffle bag of weapons and supplies behind him, he looks around and then hobbles as quickly as he can toward the nearby tree line. He looks back toward the camera one last time before his bandaged and bloody form vanishes into the foliage.
The music kicks in dramtically and then the end credits roll.