All language subtitles for Full.Metal.Jacket.1987.2160p.HDR.UHD.BluRay.DTS-HD.

I am Gunnery Sergeant Hartman,
your senior drill instructor.

From now on,
you will speak only when spoken to...

and the first and last words
out of your filthy sewers will be "sir."

Do you maggots understand that?

Sir, yes, sir.

Bullshit. I can't hear you.
Sound off like you got a pair.

Sir, yes, sir.

If you ladies leave my island,
if you survive recruit training...

you will be a weapon.

You will be a minister of death
praying for war.

But until that day, you are pukes.

You are the lowest form of life on Earth.

You are not even human-fucking-beings.

You are nothing but unorganized,
grabasstic pieces of amphibian shit.

Because I am hard, you will not like me.

But the more you hate me,
the more you will learn.

I am hard but I am fair.

There is no racial bigotry here.

I do not look down on niggers,
kikes, wops or greasers.

Here, you are all equally worthless.

And my orders are to weed out
all non-hackers...

who do not pack the gear
to serve in my beloved Corps.

Do you maggots understand that?

Sir, yes, sir.

Bullshit. I can't hear you.

Sir, yes, sir!

- What's your name, scumbag?
- Sir, Private Brown, sir!

Bullshit. From now on
you're Private Snowball.

- Do you like that name?
- Sir, yes, sir!

Well, there's one thing
that you won't like, Snowball:

They don't serve fried chicken
and watermelon...

on a daily basis in my mess hall.

Sir, yes, sir!

Is that you, John Wayne? Is this me?

Who said that?

Who the fuck said that?

Who's the slimy little communist-shit,
twinkle-toed cocksucker down here...

who just signed
his own death warrant?

Nobody, huh?

The fairy-fucking-godmother said it.
Out-fucking-standing.

I will P.T. you all until you fucking die.

I'll P.T. you until your assholes
are sucking buttermilk.

- Was it you, you scroungy little fuck?
- Sir, no, sir.

You piece of shit. You look
like a fucking worm. I'll bet it was you.

- Sir, no, sir.
- Sir, I said it, sir.

Well, no shit.

What have we got here?
A fucking comedian. Private Joker.

I admire your honesty.

Hell, I like you. You can come over
to my house and fuck my sister.

You little scumbag.
I've got your name. I've got your ass.

You will not laugh. You will not cry.

You will learn by the numbers.
I will teach you.

Now get up. Get on your feet.

You best unfuck yourself or I will unscrew
your head and shit down your neck.

- Sir, yes, sir.
- Private Joker, why did you join my Corps?

- Sir, to kill, sir.
- So you're a killer?

- Sir, yes, sir.
- Let me see your war face.

- Sir?
- You've got a war face?

That's a war face.
Now let me see your war face.

Bullshit. You didn't convince me.
Let me see your real war face.

You don't scare me. Work on it.

Sir, yes, sir!

What's your excuse?

Sir, excuse for what, sir?

I'm asking the fucking questions, private.
Do you understand?

- Sir, yes, sir.
- Well, thank you very much.

- Can I be in charge for a while?
- Sir, yes, sir.

- Are you shook-up? Are you nervous?
- Sir, I am, sir.

- Do I make you nervous?
- Sir...

Sir what?
Were you about to call me an asshole?

- Sir, no, sir.
- How tall are you, private?

Sir, 5'9", sir.

Five-foot-9. I didn't know
they stacked shit that high.

You trying to squeeze an inch
in on me somewhere?

Sir, no, sir.

Bullshit. It looks like
the best part of you...

ran down the crack of your mama's ass
and ended up as a stain on the mattress.

I think you've been cheated.

Where the hell are you from, private?

- Sir, Texas, sir.
- Holy dogshit. Texas?

Only steers and queers
come from Texas, Private Cowboy.

And you don't much look like a steer to me,
so that kind of narrows it down.

- Do you suck dicks?
- Sir, no, sir.

- Are you a peter puffer?
- Sir, no, sir.

I'll bet you would fuck
a person in the ass...

and not even have the goddamn common
courtesy to give him a reach around.

I'll be watching you.

Did your parents have any children
that lived?

- Sir, yes, sir.
- I'll bet they regret that.

You're so ugly you could be
a modern-art masterpiece.

- What's your name, fat-body?
- Sir, Leonard Lawrence, sir.

Lawrence? Lawrence what, of Arabia?

- Sir, no, sir.
- That name sounds like royalty. You royalty?

- Sir, no, sir.
- Do you suck dicks?

Sir, no, sir.

Bullshit. I'll bet you
could suck a golf ball...

- through a garden hose.
- Sir, no, sir.

I don't like the name Lawrence.

Only faggots and sailors
are called Lawrence.

- From now on you're Gomer Pyle.
- Sir, yes, sir.

Do you think I'm cute, Private Pyle?
You think I'm funny?

- Sir, no, sir.
- Wipe that disgusting grin off your face.

Sir, yes, sir.

Well, any-fucking-time, sweetheart.

- Sir, I'm trying, sir.
- Private Pyle, I'll give you three seconds...

exactly three fucking seconds...

to wipe that stupid-looking grin
off your face...

or I will gouge out your eyeballs
and skull-fuck you.

One. Two. Three.

- Sir, I can't help it, sir.
- Bullshit. Get on your knees, scumbag.

Now choke yourself.

Goddamn it, with my hand, numb-nuts.

Don't pull my fucking hand over there.
I said, choke yourself.

Now lean forward and choke yourself.

- Are you through grinning?
- Sir, yes, sir.

Bullshit. I can't hear you.

Sir, yes, sir.

Bullshit. I still can't hear you.
Sound off like you've got a pair.

Sir, yes, sir.

That's enough. Get on your feet.

Pyle, you had best square your ass away
and start shitting me Tiffany cuff links...

or I will definitely fuck you up.

Sir, yes, sir.

Left, right, left, right
left, right, left.

Left, right, left, right, left.

Left, right, left, right, left...

Parris Island, South Carolina...

the United States Marine Corps
Recruit Depot.

An 8-week college
for the phony-tough and the crazy-brave.

Mama and Papa were laying in bed

Mama and Papa were laying in bed

Mama rolled over
And this is what she said

Mama rolled over, this is what she said

- Oh, give me some, give me some
- Oh, give me some, give me some

- P.T.
- P.T.

- P.T.
- P.T.

- Good for you
- Good for you

- And good for me
- And good for me

- Good
- Good

Up in the morning to the rising sun

Up in the morning to the rising sun

Gonna run all day till the running's done

Gonna run all day till the running's done

Ho Chi Minh is a son of a bitch

Ho Chi Minh is a son of a bitch

Got the blue balls, crabs
And the seven-year itch

Got the blue balls, crabs
And the seven-year itch

Left, right, left, right, left.

Your left shoulder.

Left, right, left. Port.

Left, right. Attack. Halt.

Left shoulder.

Private Pyle, what are you trying to do
to my beloved Corps?

- Sir, I don't know, sir.
- You are dumb, Private Pyle...

but do you expect me to believe
that you don't know left from right?

- Sir, no, sir.
- Then you did that on purpose.

- You wanna be different.
- Sir, no, sir.

- What side was that, Private Pyle?
- Sir, left side, sir.

- Are you sure, Private Pyle?
- Sir, yes, sir.

- What side was that, Private Pyle?
- Sir, right side, sir.

Don't fuck with me again, Pyle.

Pick up your fucking cover.

Sir, yes, sir.

Your left shoulder.

Left, right, left. Port.

Left shoulder.

Your right shoulder.

Left, right, left, right.
Your left shoulder.

Left, two, three, four.

Your right shoulder.

Tonight you pukes will sleep
with your rifles.

You will give your rifle a girl's name.

Because this is the only pussy
you people are going to get.

Your days of finger-banging
old Mary Jane Rottencrotch...

through her purty pink panties
are over.

You're married to this piece.

This weapon of iron and wood.

And you will be faithful.

Arms.

Prepare to mount.

Mount.

Port.

Pray.

This is my rifle.

There are many like it,
but this one is mine.

My rifle is my best friend.

It is my life.

I must master it
as I must master my life.

Without me, my rifle is useless.

Without my rifle, I am useless.

I must fire my rifle true.

I must shoot straighter than my enemy,
who is trying to kill me.

I must shoot him before he shoots me.

I Will.

Before God, I swear this creed.

My rifle and myself are defenders
of my country.

We are the masters of our enemy.

We are the saviors of my life.

So be it until there is no enemy,
but peace.

Amen.

Arm.

At ease.

Good night, ladies.

Good night, sir.

- Hit it, sweetheart.
- Sir, aye, aye, sir.

Right shoulder.

That is not
your daddy's shotgun, Cowboy.

Left shoulder.

Move the rifle around your head,
not your head around the rifle.

Port.

Four inches from your chest, Pyle.
Four inches.

This is my rifle, this is my gun

This is for fighting, this is for fun

This is my rifle, this is my gun

This is for fighting, this is for fun

This is my rifle, this is my gun

This is for fighting, this is for fun

This is my rifle, this is my gun

This is for fighting, this is for fun

This is my rifle, this is my gun

This is for fighting, this is for fun

You're bouncing.

Ten fucking seconds.

It should take you no less than 10
fucking seconds to negotiate this obstacle.

Quickly, move it out.

There ain't one swinging-dick private
in this platoon's gonna graduate...

until they can get this obstacle down
to less than 10 fucking seconds.

Next two privates. Quickly.

Get over that goddamn obstacle. Move it.

Next two privates. Quickly.

Hurry up. Get up there.

- Private Joker, are you a killer?
- Sir, yes, sir.

Let me hear your war cry.

Next two privates, go. Quickly.

Get your fat ass over there, Private Pyle.

Oh, that's right, Private Pyle.

Don't make any fucking effort
to get up to the top of the fucking obstacle.

If God wanted you up there, he would have
miracled your ass up by now, wouldn't he?

- Sir, yes, sir.
- Get your fat ass up there, Pyle.

- Sir, yes, sir.
- What is the matter with you?

I'll bet if there was some pussy up there on
top of that obstacle, you could get up there.

- Couldn't you?
- Sir, yes, sir.

Your ass looks like about 150 pounds
of chewed bubble gum. Do you know that?

Sir, yes, sir.

One for the commandant.

One for the Corps.

Get up there. Pull.

I guess the Corps don't get theirs.
Get up there, Pyle.

Pull. Pull, Pyle, pull.

One pull-up, Pyle. Come on, pull.

You gotta be shitting me, Pyle.
Get your ass up there.

Do you mean to tell me that you cannot
do one single pull-up?

You are a worthless piece of shit, Pyle.
Get out of my face.

Get up there, Snowball.

Get up here, fat-boy.

Quickly. Move it up.
Move it up, Pyle. Move it up.

You climb obstacles like old people fuck.
Do you know that, Private Pyle?

Get up here. You're too slow.
Move it. Move it.

Private Pyle, whatever you do,
don't fall down.

That would break my fucking heart.

Quickly. Up and over. Up and over.

Well, what in the fuck are you waiting for,
Private Pyle?

Get up and over.
Move it, move it, move it.

Are you quitting on me?

Well, are you?

Then quit, you slimy fucking
walrus-looking piece of shit.

Get the fuck off of my obstacle.

Get the fuck down off of my obstacle.

Now. Move it.

I'm gonna rip your balls off so you
cannot contaminate the rest of the world.

I will motivate you, Private Pyle...

if it short-dicks every cannibal
on the Congo.

Pick them up and set them down, Pyle.

Quickly. Move it out.

Were you born a fat, slimy,
scumbag puke piece of shit, Private Pyle?

Or did you have to work on it?

Move it up. Quickly. Hustle up.

The fucking war will be over by the time
we get out there, won't it, Private Pyle?

Move it.

Are you going to fucking die, Pyle?
Are you going to die on me?

Do it now.

Move it up. Hustle it up.
Quickly, quickly, quickly.

Do you feel dizzy?

Do you feel faint?

Jesus H. Christ,
I think you've got a hard-on.

Quickly, ladies. Assholes and elbows.
Move it out.

Get up here.

Move it. Move it, move it, move it.

Quickly.

Quickly. Get up here.
Hurry up. Move it out.

Reveille. Reveille. Reveille.

Drop your cocks and grab your socks.

Today is Sunday.
Divine worship at 0800.

Get your bunks made
and get your uniforms on.

Police call will commence
in two minutes.

Private Cowboy, Private Joker.

- Sir, yes, sir.
- Sir, yes, sir.

As soon as you finish your bunks,
I want you two turds to clean the head.

- Sir, aye, aye, sir.
- I want that head so sanitary...

that the Virgin Mary herself would be
proud to go in there and take a dump.

- Sir, yes, sir.
- Sir, yes, sir.

Private Joker, do you believe
in the Virgin Mary?

Sir, no, sir.

Well, Private Joker,
I don't believe I heard you correctly.

Sir, the private said, "No, sir," sir.

Why, you little maggot.
You make me wanna vomit.

You goddamn communist heathen.
Sound off that you love the Virgin Mary...

or I'm gonna stomp your guts out.

Now, you do love the Virgin Mary,
don't you?

Sir, negative, sir.

Private Joker,
are you trying to offend me?

Sir, negative, sir.

Sir, the private believes that
any answer he gives will be wrong...

and the senior drill instructor will
beat him harder if he reverses himself, sir.

Who's your squad leader, scumbag?

Sir, the private's squad leader
is Private Snowball, sir.

Private Snowball.

Sir, Private Snowball
reporting as ordered, sir.

Private Snowball, you're fired.
Private Joker is promoted to squad leader.

- Sir, aye, aye, sir.
- Disappear, scumbag.

- Sir, aye, aye, sir.
- Private Pyle.

Sir, Private Pyle
reporting as ordered, sir.

From now on...

Private Joker is your new squad leader
and you will bunk with him.

He'll teach you everything.

- He'll teach you how to pee.
- Sir, yes, sir.

Private Joker is silly and he's ignorant,
but he's got guts and guts is enough.

Now, you ladies, carry on.

Sir, aye, aye, sir.

The bolt. The bolt goes in the receiver.

Operating-rod handle.

Operating-rod guide.

And the left one over the right.

Right one over the left.

Left one over the right.

The right one over the left.

Just throw your other leg over.

Attaboy.

That's it. Now just pull the next one over
and you're home free.

Ready?

Just throw it over.

Attaboy.

Set it down.

All right?

There you go.

Congratulations, Leonard.

You did it.

Fold the blanket
and the sheet back together.

Make a four-inch fold.

Okay? Got it?

You do it.

Right shoulder.

Your left shoulder.

Port.

Order.

Your right shoulder.

Square these weapons away.

My Corps' arms should be
parallel to the...

The deadliest weapon in the world...

is a Marine and his rifle.

It is your killer instinct
which must be harnessed...

if you expect to survive in combat.

Your rifle is only a tool.

It is a hard heart that kills.

If your killer instincts
are not clean and strong...

you will hesitate
at the moment of truth.

You will not kill.

You will become dead-Marine.

And then you will be in a world of shit.

Because Marines...

are not allowed to die
without permission.

Do you maggots understand?

Sir, yes, sir.

I love working for Uncle Sam

I love working for Uncle Sam

Lets me know just who I am

Lets me know just who I am

One, two, three, four
United States Marine Corps

One, two, three, four
United States Marine Corps

One, two, three, four
I love the Marine Corps

One, two, three, four
I love the Marine Corps

- My Corps
- My Corps

- Your Corps
- Your Corps

- Our Corps
- Our Corps

- Marine Corps
- Marine Corps

I don't know, but I've been told

I don't know, but I've been told

Eskimo pussy is mighty cold

Eskimo pussy is mighty cold

- Good
- Good

- Feels good
- Feels good

- Is good
- Is good

- Real good
- Real good

- Tastes good
- Tastes good

'Mighty good
'Mighty good

- Good for you
- Good for you

- Good for me
- Good for me

Trim them.

Toe jam.

Pop that blister.

Jesus H. Christ.

Private Pyle,
why is your footlocker unlocked?

Sir, I don't know, sir.

Private Pyle, if there is one thing
in this world that I hate...

it is an unlocked footlocker.
You know that, don't you?

- Sir, yes, sir.
- If it wasn't for dickheads like you...

there wouldn't be thievery
in the world, would there?

- Sir, no, sir.
- Get down.

Well, now, let's just see
if there's anything missing.

Holy Jesus.

What is that?

What the fuck is that?

What is that, Private Pyle?

Sir, a jelly doughnut, sir.

- A jelly doughnut?
- Sir, yes, sir.

- How did it get here?
- Sir, I took it from the mess hall, sir.

Is chow allowed in the barracks,
Private Pyle?

- Sir, no, sir.
- Are you allowed to eat jelly doughnuts?

- Sir, no, sir.
- And why not, Private Pyle?

Sir, because I'm too heavy, sir.

- Because you are a disgusting fat-body.
- Sir, yes, sir.

Then why did you hide a jelly doughnut
in your footlocker, Private Pyle?

Sir, because I was hungry, sir.

Because you were hungry.

Private Pyle has dishonored himself...

and dishonored the platoon.

I have tried to help him,
but I have failed.

I have failed
because you have not helped me.

You people have not given Private Pyle...

the proper motivation.

So from now on,
whenever Private Pyle fucks up...

I will not punish him.

I will punish all of you.

And the way I see it, ladies...

you owe me for one jelly doughnut.

Now get on your faces.

Open your mouth.

They're paying for it, you eat it.

Ready, exercise.

One, two, three, four

I love the Marine Corps

One, two, three, four

I love the Marine Corps

One, two, three, four

I love the Marine Corps

One, two, three, four

I love the Marine Corps

One, two, three, four...

You really look like shit today, Leonard.

Joker .

Everybody hates me now.

Even you.

Nobody hates you, Leonard.

You just keep making mistakes.

Getting everybody in trouble.

I can't do anything right.

I need help.

I'm trying to help you, Leonard.

I'm really trying.

Tuck your shirt in.

One, two, three, 19.

One, two, three, 20.

One, two, three, 21.

One, two, three, 22.

One, two, three, 23.

One, two, three, 24.

One, two, three, 25.

One, two, three, 26.

One, two, three, 27.

One, two, three, 28.

One, two, three, 29.

One, two, three, 30.

Do it.

Do it.

Remember, it's just a bad dream, fat-boy.

Port.

Left shoulder.

Right shoulder.

Port.

Do we love our beloved Corps, ladies?

Semper fi, do or die.
Gung ho. Gung ho. Gung ho.

What makes the grass grow?

Blood, blood, blood.

What do we do for a living, ladies?

Kill, kill, kill.

I can't hear you.

Kill, kill, kill.

Bullshit. I still can't hear you.

Kill, kill, kill.

Do any of you people know
who Charles Whitman was?

None of you dumb-asses knows?

Private Cowboy.

Sir, he was that guy who shot all those
people from that tower in Austin, Texas, sir.

That's affirmative.
Charles Whitman killed 12 people...

from a 28-story observation tower
at the University of Texas.

From distances of up to 400 yards.

Anybody know
who Lee Harvey Oswald was?

Private Snowball.

Sir, he shot Kennedy, sir.

That's right.
And do you know how far away he was?

Sir, he was pretty far.
From that book-suppository building, sir.

All right, knock it off.

Two hundred and fifty feet.

He was 250 feet away
and shooting at a moving target.

Oswald got off three rounds with an old Italian
bolt-action rifle in only six seconds...

and scored two hits,
including a head shot.

Do any of you people know where
these individuals learned how to shoot?

Private Joker.

Sir, in the Marines, sir.

In the Marines. Outstanding.

Those individuals showed what one
motivated Marine and his rifle can do.

And before you ladies leave my island...

you will all be able
to do the same thing.

Today...

is Christmas.

There will be a magic show at 0930.

Chaplain Charlie will tell you...

about how the free world
will conquer communism...

with the aid of God and a few Marines.

God has a hard-on for Marines...

because we kill everything we see.

He plays his games...

we play ours.

To show our appreciation
for so much power...

we keep heaven packed
with fresh souls.

God was here before the Marine Corps.

So you can give your heart to Jesus...

but your ass belongs to the Corps.

Do you ladies understand?

- Sir, yes, sir.
- I can't hear you.

Sir, yes, sir.

It's been swabbed and brushed.

Everything...

is clean.

Beautiful.

So that it slides perfect.

Nice.

Everything clean.

Oiled.

So that your action is beautiful.

Smooth Charlene.

Leonard talks to his rifle.

Yeah.

I don't think Leonard
can hack it anymore.

I think Leonard's a Section Eight.

It don't surprise me.

I wanna slip my tube steak
into your sister.

What will you take in trade?

What do you got?

Outstanding, Private Pyle.

I think we finally found
something that you do well.

Sir, yes, sir.

What's your sixth general order?

Sir, the sixth general order
is to receive and obey...

and pass on to the sentry
who relieves me...

all orders...

Sir, the private's sixth general...

The private has been instructed
but does not know.

You slimy scumbag,
get on your face and give me 25.

Sir, aye, aye, sir.

How many counts in that movement
you just executed?

- Sir, four counts, sir.
- What's the idea of looking in the chamber?

Sir, to guarantee the private is not giving
the inspecting officer a loaded weapon, sir.

What's your fifth general order?

Sir, the fifth general order is to quit
my post only when properly relieved, sir.

What's this weapon's name,
Private Pyle?

Sir, the private's weapon's name
is Charlene, sir.

Private Pyle, you are definitely
born-again hard.

Hell, I may even allow you to serve
as a rifleman in my beloved Corps.

Sir, yes, sir.

I don't want no teenage queen

I don't want no teenage queen

I just want my M14

I just want my M14

If I die in a combat zone

If I die in a combat zone

Box me up and ship me home

Box me up and ship me home

Pin my medals upon my chest

Pin my medals upon my chest

Tell my morn I done my best

Tell my morn I done my best

Graduation is only a few days away...

and the recruits of Platoon 3092
are salty.

They are ready to eat their own guts
and ask for seconds.

The drill instructors are proud to see
that we are growing beyond their control.

The Marine Corps does not want robots.

The Marine Corps wants killers.

The Marine Corps wants to build
indestructible men.

Men without fear.

Today, you people are
no longer maggots.

Today, you are Marines.

You're part of a brotherhood.

From now on, until the day you die...

wherever you are...

every Marine is your brother.

Most of you will go to Vietnam.

Some of you will not come back.

But always remember this:

Marines die.

That's what we're here for.

But the Marine Corps lives forever...

and that means you live forever.

- Peckett.
- Sir, yes, sir.

0300, Infantry.

- Toe Jam.
- Sir, yes, sir.

0300, Infantry.

- Adams.
- Sir, yes, sir.

1800, Engineers.

You go out and find mines.

- Cowboy.
- Sir, yes, sir.

0300, Infantry.

- Taylor.
- Sir, yes, sir.

0300, Infantry.

- Joker.
- Sir, yes, sir.

4212, Basic Military Journalism.

You gotta be shitting me, Joker.

You think you're Mickey Spillane?

You think you're some kind
of fucking writer?

Sir, I wrote for
my high school newspaper, sir.

Jesus H. Christ.
You're not a writer, you're a killer.

A killer, yes, sir.

Gomer Pyle.

- Gomer Pyle.
- Sir, yes, sir.

You forget your fucking name?
0300, Infantry. You made it.

- Perkins.
- Sir, yes, sir.

Our last night on the island.

I draw fire watch.

Hi, Joker.

Are those live rounds?

Seven-six-two millimeter.

Full metal jacket.

Leonard...

if Hartman comes in here
and catches us...

we'll both be in a world of shit.

I am...

in a world...

of shit.

Left shoulder.

Right shoulder.

Lock and load.

Order.

This is my rifle.

There are many like it,
but this one is mine.

My rifle is my best friend.
It is my life.

Get back in your bunks.

What is this Mickey Mouse shit?

What in the name of Jesus H. Christ
are you animals doing in my head?

Why is Private Pyle out of his bunk
after lights out?

Why is Private Pyle
holding that weapon?

Why aren't you stomping
Private Pyle's guts out?

Sir, it is the private's duty
to inform the senior drill instructor...

that Private Pyle has a full magazine
and has locked and loaded, sir.

Now you listen to me, Private Pyle...

and you listen good.

I want that weapon...

and I want it now.

You will place that rifle
on the deck at your feet...

and step back away from it.

What is your major malfunction,
numb-nuts?

Didn't Mommy and Daddy show you
enough attention when you were a child?

Easy, Leonard.

Go easy, man.

No!

Hey, baby.

You got girlfriend Vietnam?

Not just this minute.

Well, baby, me so horny.

Me so horny.

Me love you long time.

You party?

Yeah, we might party.

- How much?
- Fifteen dollar.

- Fifteen dollars for both of us.
- No. Each you $15.

Me love you long time.

Me so horny.

Fifteen dollar too beaucoup.

- Five dollars each.
- Me sucky-sucky.

Me love you too much.

Five dollars is all my mom
allows me to spend.

Okay. Ten dollar each.

What do we get for $10?

Everything you want.

- Everything?
- Everything.

Well, old buddy, feel like spending
some of your hard-earned money?

Just a minute.

You know, half these gook whores
are serving officers in the Vietcong.

The other half have got TB.

Be sure you only fuck
the ones that cough.

That little sucker really had
some moves on him, didn't he?

Yeah.

You know what really pisses me off
about these people?

What?

We're supposed to be helping them, and
they shit all over us every chance they get.

I just can't feature that.

Don't take it too hard, Rafterman.
It's just business.

I hate Da Nang, Joker.
I wanna go out into the field.

I've been in country
almost three months...

and all I do is take handshake shots
at award ceremonies.

You'd get wasted your first day in the field
and it'd be my fault.

A high school girl could do my job.

I wanna get out into the shit.

I wanna get some trigger time.

If you get killed, your morn will find me
after I rotate back to the world...

and she'll beat the shit out of me.

That's a negative, Rafterman.

Okay, guys. Let's keep it short and sweet
today. Anybody got anything new?

There's a rumor going around that
the Tet ceasefire is gonna be canceled.

Rear-echelon paranoia.

A bro in intelligence says Charlie might try
to pull off something big during Tet.

They say the same thing every year.

There's a lot of talk about it, sir.

I wouldn't lose any sleep over it.

The Tet holiday is like the Fourth of July,
Christmas and New Year all rolled into one.

Every zipperhead in Nam,
North and South, will be banging gongs...

barking at the moon
and visiting his dead relatives.

Right. Ann-Margret
and entourage are due here next week.

I want someone on the airfield
and stick with her for a couple of days.

- Rafterman, you take it.
- Aye, aye, sir.

And get some good low-angle stuff.

Don't make it too obvious,
but I wanna see fur and early-morning dew.

- Yes, sir.
- "Diplomats in dungarees."

Marine engineers lend a helping hand
rebuilding Dong Phuc village recently..."

Chili, if we move Vietnamese,
they are evacuees...

if they come to us to be evacuated,
they are refugees.

I'll make a note of it, sir.

"NVA soldier deserts
after reading pamphlets."

A young North Vietnamese Army regular,
who realized his side could not win...

"deserted from his unit after reading
Open Arms pamphlets."

That's good, Dave. But why say
North Vietnamese Army regular?

Is there an irregular?
How about North Vietnamese Army soldier?

I'll fix it up, sir.

Lawrence Welk Show
is out on TV in two weeks.

Dave, do 100 words on it.

- AFTV will give you some background stuff.
- Sir.

"Not while we're eating."

NVA learned Marines
on a search-and-destroy mission...

"don't like to be interrupted
while eating chow."

Search-and-destroy. We have a new
directive from MAF on this.

In future, in place of search-and-destroy,
substitute the phrase sweep-and-clear.

- Sweep-and-clear, got it?
- Got it. Very catchy.

And, Joker, where's the weenie?

Sir?

The kill, Joker. The kill. I mean, all that
fire, the grunts must have hit something.

Didn't see them.

Joker, I've told you,
we run two basic stories here.

Grunts who give half their pay to buy
gooks toothbrushes and deodorants.

Winning of hearts and minds. Okay?

And combat action that results in a kill.
Winning the war.

Now, you must have seen blood trails.
Drag marks?

It was raining, sir.

Well, that's why God passed
the law of probability.

Now rewrite it and give it
a happy ending. Say, one killed.

Make it a sapper or an officer. Which?

Whichever you say.

Grunts like reading about dead officers.

Okay, an officer. How about a general?

Joker...

maybe you'd like our guys
to read the paper and feel bad.

I mean, in case you didn't know it,
this is not a very popular war.

Now, it is our job to report the news...

that these why-are-we-here
civilian newsmen ignore.

Sir, maybe you should go out
on some ops yourself.

I'm sure you could find a lot more
blood trails and drag marks.

Joker, I've had my ass in the grass.

Can't say I liked it much.

Lots of bugs and too dangerous.

As it happens, my present duties
keep me where I belong...

in the rear with the gear.

Tet. The year of the monkey.

Vietnamese Lunar New Year's Eve.

Down in Dogpatch, the gooks are
shooting off fireworks to celebrate.

I am fucking bored to death, man.

I gotta get back in the shit.

I ain't heard a shot fired
in anger in weeks.

Joker's so tough...

he'd eat the boogers
out of a dead man's nose...

then ask for seconds.

Listen up, pilgrim.

A day without blood is
like a day without sunshine.

Shit.

Joker thinks the bad bush is between
an old mama-saws legs.

He's never been in the shit.

It's hard to talk about it, man.
It's like on Hastings.

You weren't on
Operation Hastings, Payback.

- You weren't even in country.
- Eat shit and die...

you fucking Spanish-American.
You fucking pogue.

I was there, man.

I was in the shit with the grunts.

Don't listen to
any of Payback's bullshit, Rafterman.

Sometimes he thinks he's John Wayne.

You listen to Joker, new guy.

He knows tí ti.

Very little.

You know he's never been in the shit.
Cause he ain't got the stare.

- The stare?
- The thousand-yard stare.

A Marine gets it after he's been
in the shit for too long.

It's like--

It's like you're really seeing beyond.

I got it.

All field Marines got it.

And you'll have it too.

I Will?

Hey, Payback...

how do you stop five black dudes
from raping a white chick?

- Fuck you, Stork.
- Throw them a basketball.

- Incoming.
- Oh, shit.

Them are outgoing.

- That ain't outgoing.
- That ain't outgoing.

Now, what did I just say?

Hey, I hope they're just fucking with us.

- I ain't ready for this shit.
- Amen.

Cease fire.

- Cease fire.
- Cease fire.

Cease fire.

The enemy...

has very deceitfully...

taken advantage
of the Tet ceasefire...

to launch an offensive
all over the country.

So far, we've had it pretty easy here.

But we seem to be the exception.

Charlie has hit every major military target
in Vietnam and hit them hard.

In Saigon the United States Embassy
has been overrun by suicide squads.

- Shit.
- Jesus Christ, man.

Khe Sanh is standing by to be overrun.

We also have reports
that a division of NVA...

has occupied all of the city of Hue
south of the Perfume River.

In strategic terms,
Charlie's out the country in half...

the civilian press
are about to wet their pants...

and we've heard even Cronkite's
gonna say the war is now unwinnable.

In other words...

it's a huge shit sandwich
and we're all gonna have to take a bite.

Sir.

Does this mean that Ann-Margret's
not coming?

Joker, I want you
to get straight up to Phú Bai.

Captain January will need all his people.

- Yes, sir.
- And, Joker...

you will take off that damn button.

How's it gonna look if you get killed
wearing a peace symbol?

Sir.

Permission to go with Joker?

- Permission granted.
- Thank you, sir.

Sir, permission not to take
Rafterman with me?

You still here?

Vanish, Joker, most risky-tick,
and take Rafterman with you.

You're responsible for him.

Get some.

Get some.

Get some. Get some. Yeah. Yeah.

Get some. Get some.
Come on. Come on.

Get some.

Get some, baby.

Get some. Get some. Get some.

Get some. Get some, come on.
Get it, come on.

Get some. Get some. Yeah, yeah, yeah.

I've got you, mother.

Anyone who runs is a VC.

Anyone who stands still...

is a well-disciplined VC.

You guys ought to do a story
about me sometime.

Why should we do a story about you?

Because I'm so fucking good.

That ain't no shit neither.

I've done got me 157 dead gooks killed.

And 50 water buffaloes too.

Them are all certified.

Any women or children?

Sometimes.

How can you shoot women and children?

Easy.

You just don't lead them so much.

Ain't war hell?

Top, we wanna get in the shit.

Down the road. Two-Five.

Two-Five. Outstanding. Thanks, Top.

Excuse me.

Sir.

We're looking for 1st Platoon,
Hotel Two-Five.

I got a bro named Cowboy there.

You people one-one?

No, sir.
We're reporters from Stars and Stripes.

- Stars and Stripes?
- Yes, sir.

I'm Cowboy's platoon commander.

Cowboy's just down the road
in the platoon area.

- You mind if we tag along, sir?
- No problem. Welcome aboard.

By the way, my name's Schinoski.
Walter J. Schinoski.

My people call me Mr. Touchdown.

I played ball for Notre Dame.

- Notre Dame?
- Yeah.

- All right.
- You here to make Cowboy famous?

Never happen, sir.

Well, if you people came looking for a story,
this is your lucky day.

We got Condition Red
and we're definitely expecting rain.

Outstanding, sir.
We taking care of business?

Well, the NVA are dug in deep.

Hotel Company's still working
this side of the river...

street by street and house by house.

Charles definitely
got his shit together...

but we're still getting
some decent kills here.

We heard some scuttlebutt, sir, about
the NVA executing a lot of gook civilians.

That's affirmative.

I saw some bodies about a half a klick
this side of Phu Cam Canal.

Will you show me where, sir?

Here's the canal.

The dead have been covered with lime.

The dead know only one thing:

It is better to be alive.

Excuse me?

- Good morning, lieutenant.
- Morning.

I make it 20.
Is that the official body count, sir?

What outfit are you men with?

Sir, we're reporters
from Stars and Stripes.

- Oh, I see.
- I'm Sergeant Joker...

and this photographer is Rafterman.

I'm Lieutenant Cleves
and I'm from Hartford, Connecticut.

- Have you got a body count, sir?
- We think it's 20.

Do you know how it happened, sir?

Well, it seems the NVA came in
with a list of gook names.

Government officials, policemen,
ARVIN officers, school teachers.

They went around
to their houses real polite...

and asked them to report
the next day for political reeducation.

Everybody who turned up got shot.

Some they buried alive.

Ready.

Colonel.

Marine, what is that button
on your body armor?

A peace symbol, sir.

- Where did you get it?
- I don't remember, sir.

What is that written on your helmet?

Born to kill, sir.

You write born to kill on your helmet
and wear a peace button.

What's that supposed to be,
some kind of sick joke?

- No, sir.
- What is it supposed to mean?

I don't know, sir.

- You don't know much.
- No, sir.

Get your head and your ass wired together
or I will take a shit on you.

- Yes, sir.
- Now answer my question...

or you'll be standing tall
before the man.

I was trying to suggest something
about the duality of man, sir.

- The what?
- The duality of man. The Jungian thing, sir.

- Whose side are you on, son?
- Our side, sir.

- You love your country?
- Yes, sir.

How about getting with the program.

Jump on the team and come on in
for the big win.

Yes, sir.

All I've asked of my Marines is for them to
obey my orders as they would God's word.

We are here to help the Vietnamese...

because inside every gook
there is an American trying to get out.

It's a hardball world, son.

We've gotta try to keep our heads
until this peace craze blows over.

Aye, aye, sir.

Hey, bro. We're looking for 1st Platoon,
Hotel Two-Five.

Around the back.

- First Platoon?
- Yeah, through there.

Hey, Lone Ranger.

- Holy shit. It's the Joker.
- You old motherfucker.

What's happening?

Thought I hoped I'd never see you again,
you piece of shit.

What's happening, man?

Oh, just waiting to get back
to the land of the big PX.

Yeah? Well, why go back?

Here or there, samey-same.

- Been getting any?
- Only your sister.

Well, better my sister than my mom,
though my mom's not bad.

Hey, you Hogs, listen up.

This is my bro, Joker, from the Island,
and this is...?

- Rafterman.
- Rafterman.

They're from Stars and Stripes.
They'll make you famous.

- Fucking A.
- Yeah.

We're the Lusthog Squad.

We're life-takers and heartbreakers.

We shoot them full of holes
and fill them full of lead.

You a photographer?

No, I'm a combat correspondent.

Oh, you seen much combat?

Well, I've seen a little on TV.

You're a real comedian.

Well, they call me the Joker.

Well, I got a joke for you.

I'm gonna tear you a new asshole.

Well, pilgrim...

only after you eat the peanuts
out of my shit.

You talk the talk.

Do you walk the walk?

Now, you might not believe it...

but under fire, Animal Mother's one of
the finest human beings in the world.

All he needs is somebody to throw
hand grenades at him the rest of his life.

That's a roger, come on.
Sit down. Come on, new guy.

Hey, jungle-bunny.

Thank God for the sickle cell, huh?

Yeah, Mother.

Hey, Photographer.

You wanna take a good picture?

Here, man.

Take this.

This is my bro.

This is his party.

He's the guest of honor.

Today is his birthday.

Happy birthday, zipperhead.

I will never forget this day.

The day I came to Hue City
and fought 1 million NVA gooks.

I love the little commie bastards, man,
I really do.

These enemy grunts are as hard
as slant-eyed drill instructors.

These are great days we're living, bros.

We are jolly green giants,
walking the earth with guns.

These people we wasted here today...

are the finest human beings
we will ever know.

After we rotate back to the world...

we're gonna miss not having
anyone around who's worth shooting.

- Stay put, keep your heads down.
- Stay put.

Stay put.

Shit.

Delta Six Actual, this is Murphy. Over.

Delta Six Actual, this is Murphy. Over.

Delta Six.

Delta Six, we are receiving incoming fire
from the vill.

The lieutenant is down.

We're going to stop here
and check out what's in front of us. Over.

Okay, Lusthog Squad, listen up.

Gonna move up these roads
and check the vill.

I want the third team up this road here.

First and second fire team behind me
up this other road, okay?

Let's go. Let's get it done.

Is that you, John Wayne? Is this me?

Hey, start the cameras.
This is Vietnam: The Movie.

Yeah, Joker can be John Wayne,
I'll be a horse.

- T.H.E. Rock can be a rock.
- I'll be Ann-Margret.

Animal Mother can be a rabid buffalo.

- I'll be General Custer.
- Who'll be the Indian?

Hey, we'll let the gooks play the Indians.

You're going home now.

Semper fi.

We're mean Marines, sir.

Go easy, bros.

Better you than me.

Well, at least they died
for a good cause.

What cause was that?

Freedom.

Flush out your headgear, new guy.

You think we waste gooks for freedom?

This is a slaughter.

If I'm gonna get my balls
blown off for a word...

my word is poon tang.

Tough break for Hand Job.

He was all set
to get shipped out on a medical.

What was the matter with him?

He was jerking off 10 times a day.

It's no shit. At least 10 times a day.

Last week he was sent down to Da Nang
to see the Navy head shrinker.

The crazy fucker starts jerking off
in the waiting room.

Instant Section Eight.

He was just waiting
for his papers to clear Division.

You ready? Turn over.

Hue City interviews, roll 34.

Well, like-- Like you see, you know,
it's a major city...

so we have to assault with tanks,
we roll in the streets.

So they send us in first to squat...

make sure that there are no little...

No Vietnamese waiting with B-40 rockets
to blow the tanks away.

So we clear it out
and we roll the tanks in...

and basically blow the place to hell.

When we're in Hue,
when we're in Hue City...

it's like a war, you know...

like what-- What--

What I thought about a war,
what I thought a war was--

You know, was supposed to be.

There's the enemy, you kill them.

I don't think there's any question about it.
I mean, we're the best.

I mean, all that bullshit
about the Air Cav...

When the shit hits the fan,
who do they call?

They call Mother Green
and her killing machine.

Do I think America belongs in Vietnam?

I don't know.
I belong in Vietnam, I'll tell you that.

Can I quote LBJ?

"I will not send American boys..."

8 or 10,000 miles
around the world...

"to do a job that Asian boys
ought to be doing for themselves."

Personally think they don't really
want to be involved in this war...

you know, I mean, like they--
It's sort of like...

they took away our freedom
and gave it to the gookers, you know.

But they don't want it.

They'd rather be alive than free, I guess,
you know.

Poor, dumb bastards.

Well, the ones I'm fighting at
are some pretty-- Pretty bad boys.

I'm not real...

I'm not real keen
on some of these fellas...

that are supposedly on our side.

I keep meeting them
coming the other way.

Yeah.

I mean, we're getting killed
for these people...

and they don't even appreciate it.

They think it's a big joke.

Well, if you ask me...

we're shooting the wrong gooks.

Well, it depends on the situation.
I mean, I'm here to take combat photos.

But if the shit gets too thick,
I mean, I'll go to the rifle.

What do I think about
America's involvement in the war?

Well, I think we should win.

I hate Vietnam.

There's not one horse
in this whole country.

They don't have one horse in Vietnam.

There's something
basically wrong with that.

Well, if they'd send us
more guys, maybe...

and bomb the hell out of the North,
they might give up.

I wanted to see exotic Vietnam,
the jewel of Southeast Asia.

I wanted to meet interesting and
stimulating people of an ancient culture...

and kill them.

I wanted to be the first kid on my block
to get a confirmed kill.

Ten-hut.

- All right.
- My, oh, my.

- Good morning, little schoolgirl.
- Look at this lady.

I'm a little schoolboy too.

My, my,

- What you got there, chief?
- Do you want number one fucky?

Hey, any of you boys
want number one fucky?

I'm so horny,
I can't even get a piece of hand.

- Me want sucky.
- Sucky, fucky, smoke cigarette in her pussy.

She give you everything you want,
long time.

Everything you want.
Hey, how much there, chief?

- Fifteen dollars each.
- No.

Fifteen dollar beaucoup money.

Five dollar each.

Come on, she love you good.

Boom-boom long time.

- Ten dollars.
- Five dollars.

No. Ten dollars.

Be glad to trade you some ARVIN rifles.

Ain't never been fired
and only dropped once.

Okay, $5. You give me.

- Okay, okay.
- All right.

Let's get mounted.

Something wrong there, chief?

She says no boom-boom
with soul brother.

What the motherfuck?

She says soul brother too beaucoup,
too beaucoup.

What is this, man?

I think what he's trying to tell you
is you black boys pack too much meat.

Too beaucoup, too beaucoup.

Oh, shit.

This baby-sen locks like she could
suck the chrome off a trailer hitch.

She say too beaucoup, too beaucoup.

Excuse me, ma'am.

What we have here, little yellow sister...

is a magnificent specimen
of pure Alabama blacksnake.

But it ain't too goddamn beaucoup.

Okay, okay.

Okay, okay.

All right. Yeah. This is my boogie.

- Hey, we need a batting order.
- I'm going first.

Back off, white bread.
Don't get between a dog and his meat.

All fucking niggers must fucking hang.

- Hey, Animal, man.
- You son of a--

Hey, hey, I won't be long.
I'll skip the foreplay.

- I don't want it after you, man.
- Fuck you.

Intelligence passed the word down...

that during the night
the NVA had pulled out of our area...

to positions across the Perfume River.

Our squad is sent on patrol
to check out the report.

Face outboard and take cover. Do it.

Shit.

He ain't gonna make it.

Shit.

Hotel One Actual, this is Cowboy.

Hotel One Actual, this is Cowboy.

Hotel One. Over.

Murph, this is Cowboy.

Crazy's hit. Booby trap.

Wait, One.

Okay. You're senior NCO, Cowboy.
You're in charge.

- Continue with the patrol...
- Shit.

- and call in at the next checkpoint.
- Shit.

Roger. Out.

I'm squad leader.

Follow you anywhere, scumbag.

All right.

He's dead.

Cowboy.

What's up?

I think we made a mistake
at the last checkpoint.

Here, see what you think.

I think we're here...

and we should be here.

- We're here?
- Yeah.

- We should be here?
- Yeah. Yeah, that's right.

Fuck.

What do you think?

Well, I think we should change direction.

OKEY-

We'll change direction.

What's up?

Changing direction.

What are we, lost?

Joker, shut the fuck up.

Okay, listen up.

- Can you hear me?
- Yeah.

Okay, we're changing direction.

We're heading over that way.

Eightball's gonna go over there
and see can he find a way through.

- Got it?
- Got it.

Eightball, let's dance.

Put a nigger behind the trigger.

Fuck.

Cease fire.

Cease fire, goddamn it.

Cool it, goddamn it. Cool it. Cease fire.

- Hold it.
- Cease fire.

- Cease fire.
- Cease fire.

Okay, listen up. Did anybody see a sniper?
Did anybody see anything?

Anybody see a sniper?

- Nothing.
- Negative.

Okay, then save your ammo.
Nobody fire till I tell you.

Eightball.

No, no. Cease fire. Cease fire.

Animal, cease fire.

Cowboy, it's Sergeant Murphy.

This is Cowboy. Over.

This is Murphy.
What is your present position? Over.

Murph, we're receiving enemy sniper fire.

Eightball is down.

Our position is about half a klick
north of Checkpoint Four.

Believe possible strong enemy forces
occupying buildings in front of us.

Request immediate tank support. Over.

Roger. Understand.

I'll see what I can do. Over.

Roger. Over and out.

- Stay close.
- Got it.

Okay, listen up.
I think we're being set up for an ambush.

I think there may be strong enemy forces
in those buildings over there.

I've requested tank support.

We're gonna sit tight till it comes,
but keep your eyes open.

If they decide to hit us,
we'll have to pull back fast.

Goddamn it. Halt.
Cease your fire, Mother.

- Cease your fucking fire.
- Cowboy.

- What?
- We can't leave him out there.

We're not leaving him,
we'll get him when the tank comes up.

He's hit three fucking times.
He can't wait that long.

I seen this before.

That sniper's just trying to suck us in,
one at a time.

Goddamn it. No.

- Goddamn it, cease fire. Cease fire.
- Man, fuck this--

Fuck this shit.
I'm going in to bring him out.

- No, you sit the fuck down, goddamn it.
- Cover me.

Cease fire, he's there.
Cease fire, he's there.

Cease fire.

Hold your fire.

Hold your fire.

Cease fire, you can't see the sniper.

Save the ammo.
Nobody fire till I tell you. Nobody.

Hold your fire.

What the fuck do we do now, Cowboy?

Give me that fucking radio.

Murph? This is Cowboy. Over.

This is Murphy. Over.

Murph, we're in some deep shit.
I got two men down.

What's the story
on that fucking tank? Over.

Sorry, Cowboy.
No luck so far with the tank.

Will advise. Over.

Roger. Out.

Numb-nut bastards.

- Okay, listen up.
- Listen up.

Can't afford to wait for the tank.

I think they're gonna hit us any minute.

When they do,
we won't have time to pull out.

We gotta do it now.
Let's get ready to move.

- Ready to pull out.
- Wait a minute. Hold it.

Hold it, nobody's pulling out.
There's only one sniper there.

Back off, Mother.

I'm calling the plays.
I say we're pulling out.

Well, what about Doc Jay and Eightball?

I know it's a shitty thing to do,
but we can't refuse to accept the situation.

We're not leaving
Doc Jay and Eightball out there.

Doc Jay and Eightball are wasted.

- You know that.
- Bullshit. Come on, you guys.

We gotta bring them back.
Let's get them, let's do it.

Stand down, Mother.
That's a direct order.

Fuck you, Cowboy.
Fuck all you assholes.

- Goddamn it.
- Fucking son of a bitch.

You motherfucker.

Doc. Doc. Doc.

Where's the sniper?

Doc, where's the sniper?

Shit.

Shit. Fuck.

Fuck.

Hey, Cowboy.

Yeah?

Doc Jay and Eightball are wasted.

There's only one sniper, nothing else.

Move up the squad,
you're clear up to here.

Come on.

Son of a bitch.

- Okay, listen up.
- Listen up.

No-Doze, Stutten, Donlon, Rock,
you come with me, we'll take a look.

The rest of you all stay put
and cover our ass.

We may be coming back in a big hurry.

- I'm going with you.
- I'm coming too.

OKEY-

- You all set?
- Yeah.

Let's move out.

Let's do it.

Hey, Cowboy.

Top of the black building,
around the corner.

Donlon, give me that radio.

Murphy, this is Cowboy. Over.

- Cowboy.
- Holy shit. That sniper's got a clean shot.

Get him the fuck out of here.

- I ain't got a first aid.
- I don't believe this shit.

- Give me your hand.
- Shut up.

- Take it easy, Cowboy.
- Don't move.

- Shit.
- That son of a bitch.

- You'll be all right.
- You're going home.

- Shut up.
- Don't shit me.

You know I'm not gonna shit you, man.
You're my favorite turd.

Come on. Easy.

Here you go.

- Cowboy.
- Hang on, man. Hang on.

I can hack it. I can hack it.

- I can hack it.
- You can hack it, man.

Let's go get some payback.

Okay.

Okay.

Watch that fucking hole.

Throw some smoke.

Okay, ready?

Donlon, Rock, that way.
You two, with me.

Joker, in there. New guy.

We got the sniper.

Joker?

Yo.

What's up?

We got the sniper.

I saved Joker's ass.

I got the sniper.

I fucking blew her away.

Am I bad?

Am I a life-taker? Am I a heartbreaker?

What's she saying?

She's praying.

No more boom-boom for this baby-san.

There's nothing we can do for her.

She's dead meat.

Okay.

Let's get the fuck out of here.

What about her?

Fuck her.

Let her rot.

We can't just leave her here.

Hey, asshole.

Cowboy's wasted.

You're fresh out of friends.

I'm running this squad now...

and I say we leave the gook
for the mother-loving rats.

I'm not trying to run this squad.

I'm just saying
we can't leave her like this.

Shoot me.

Shoot...

me.

Shoot...

me.

Shoot.

Shoot.

If you wanna waste her, go on...

waste her.

Shoot...

me.

Shoot me.

Shoot...

me.

Shoot...

me.

Shoot.

Shoot.

Shoot.

Shoot.

Joker...

we're gonna have to put you up
for the Congressional Medal of Ugly.

Hard-core, man.

Fucking hard-core.

We have nailed our names
in the pages of history enough for today.

We hump down to the Perfume River
to set in for the night.

My thoughts drift back
to erect-nipple wet dreams...

about Mary Jane Rottencrotch
and the great homecoming-fuck fantasy.

I am so happy that I am alive...

in one piece and short.

I am in a world of shit, yes...

but I am alive.

And I am not afraid.