A martial artist hunts a killer in a plague-infested urban dump of the future.

Fender Tremolo: First there was the collapse of civilization: anarchy, genocide, starvation. Then when it seemed things couldn't get any worse, we got the plague. The Living Death, quickly closing its fist over the entire planet. Then we heard the rumors: that the last scientists were working on a cure that would end the plague and restore the world. Restore it? Why? I like the death! I like the misery! I like this world!
Fender Tremolo: I'll take you to Atlanta, and you'll give *me* the cure. And if you don't, I'll give you the horror show.
[holds up Willy's head]
Pearl Prophet: Why did you help me?
Gibson Rickenbacker: I thought it was somebody else.
Willy: Go to hell!
Fender Tremolo: Been there.
Fender Tremolo: You think I'm going to swim all the way to Atlanta! I hate... the water.
[shoves metal pole down one of the ransacked villagers mouthes]
Fender Tremolo: Hoist the anchor mates.
[preparing to head to Atlanta by boat]

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