Oops, wait. My mistake. More exposition. The resistance (led by Adult John) also sent back a Terminator to protect young John. "It was just a question of which one would get to him first," drones Linda, as the camera lingers on a fireball in a shameless attempt to win an Academy Award for Visual Effects. (P.S. -- Mission Accomplished!)

The name of the movie, now that we've arrived at the opening credits, is Terminator 2: Judgment Day, not T2. I blame this movie for the outbreak of abbreviated movie titles, like ID4 for Independence Day and "WWW" for Wild Wild West. Well, I guess I blame Will Smith a little.

When we've exhausted the cinematic possibilities inherent in a screen full of fire, we end up at a parking lot at night. There's lightning and zappy sound effects, heralding the arrival of a naked Arnold Schwarzenegger. He slowly stands up while the orchestra expresses its admiration for his physique, and we see his computer-vision analyzing motorcycles outside a bar. Inside, the pool-playing patrons are startled by Naked Arnold Schwarzenegger, as who wouldn't be? He scowls his way through the bar, analyzing each patron. I know this because the readout on the left side of the screen says "analysis." He finally selects a bearded, cigar-smoking guy, who does not respond well to being told, "I need your clothes, your boots, and your motorcycle." If I could just take a minute here, the cigar-smoking guy was also in Near Dark, where this exact thing happened to him: he was playing pool in a bar, some vampires came in, he mouthed off, and got the thrashing of his life. The last thrashing of his life. Apparently he didn't learn his lesson, because he puts out his cigar on Naked Arnold's chest. Mayhem, inevitably, ensues. Cigar Guy gets his hand broken, someone gets thrown through the window, Cigar Guy gets thrown through a different window to land on the hot stove, a guy with a knife gets his arm broken, and the rest of the bar decides to go find a bar that doesn't have Naked Arnold Schwarzenegger in it. Naked Arnold goes to find Cigar Guy, who is unable to cock his pistol with only one hand. Poor Cigar Guy.

George Thorogood's "Bad to the Bone" (which, in 1991, was only "overused," not "horribly overused" like it is today) plays as Arnold walks out of the bar, clad in Presumably-Naked Cigar Guy's leathers. Before he can drive away on Cigar Guy's motorcycle, the bartender shows up with a shotgun. Arnold snatches away the gun and takes the barkeep's sunglasses, for no reason other than general aesthetic coolness. I have to admit, he looks pretty cool. That might be because of the long, loving shots of Arnold Bestride Motorcycle, though.