Original subtitles

Jesus Christ. Do you have to do that?

It’s my car, so just shut up and drive.

There’s someone out there.

It’s one of them.

I don’t think so. It’s one of them!

Jesus Christ!

Be careful!

You all right?

I hit my--

Hi...

It’s all right!

It’s all right, it’s all right.

I’m sorry.

I think I knew him once.

Yeah.

Where are we?

Oh, God. Jesus, I think I broke a rib.

Suck it up. We gotta get out of here.

Hey! Honk the horn. Maybe they’ll give us a ride!

Hey! Hey!

David...

David, Jesus! Pop the trunk!

God damn it!

There’s a semiautomatic in there!

What’s the point, Jane?

The point is we’re not giving up.

And we are definitely not giving up to a bunch of crippled...

stinking, maggot-infested...

...brain-dead zombie dissidents!

Come and get it!

Come on, you pussies! What are we gonna do?

We’re gonna take their goddamn truck right out from under them, that’s what!

Grab that gun, you chicken shit!

See, the trick is to aim low...

...take their legs out.

You can’t kill 'em,

but you can slow ’em up.

Oh, get up, ya pansies! Bring it on!

I’m sorry, Jane. I’m truly sorry.

Oh, who cares? Shut up and shoot!

It’s my fault.

The whole damn thing.

It’s all my fault.

Holy Mother of Hip-Hop Jesus...

I’m sorry, Jane.

I never should have opened my mouth.

I remember the night the whole world went to hell.

It was the night I first met Jane.

We’re back on Marty Clark Live!, with our special guests,

constitutional scholar Jane Cleaver,

whose new book is Subversion:

How the Radical Left Took Over Cable News,

and a good friend, David Murch,

who’s a former presidential speechwriter

and high-priced campaign consultant.

Welcome, David.

With the election just three weeks away, the President

is in full campaign mode.

Just this week, in Boulder, several protesters were arrested

when they took off their coats to reveal antiwar t-shirts.

David, there’s been several of these incidents.

The protesters say they have a right to free speech.

Does the President have a policy of suppressing dissent?

Look, Marty, the President has a First Amendment right

to take his case to the American people without being shouted down.

But to answer your question, no, there’s no "policy."

The Secret Service is there to protect the President.

Now, they’re gonna err on the side of caution.

Jane looks likes she’s gonna jump out of her chair!

Marty, please. If you look at these protesters,

you see men with breasts and women with armpit hair.

They are ugly, stupid, clueless.

They have nothing to offer but hate for this country,

and they know the only way they could ever get on TV

is to defecate, in public, on our President--

Oh, Jane, please-- And, you, Marty.

You are their collaborator.

You put these repulsive, awful people on TV, which is all they want to begin with.

So, thanks, mission accomplished!

We go live now to Altoona, Pennsylvania,

and we’re being joined by Mrs. Janet Hofstadter.

Welcome, Mrs. Hofstadter. You are what used to be called a "Gold Star Mom."

That’s right, Marty.

And your son, Corporal Gordon Hofstadter, was killed in action?

July eighth of this year.

And you were detained by the Secret Service

for heckling the President.

What exactly did you say to him?

I stood up and I asked him,

"Why did my son die?"

"Why did my son die"?

And he didn’t answer me.

And I asked again and again.

And then I was grabbed by the arms and taken out.

Why did you say that to the President?

Because no one else will.

They told us there was a threat to America.

But the "weapons of mass destruction" weren’t there.

The nuclear program wasn’t there. The threat wasn’t there.

And here’s the President, surrounded by his supporters and his "yes" men,

and they’re talking happy talk about his war.

I have the right, Mr. Clark.

I have the right to ask him, why did my son die?

Thank you. David... what do you have to say about all of that?

Well, first of all, I’d say, "Mrs. Hofstadter,

I honor you for your sacrifice.

I had an older brother who gave his life in Vietnam.

And believe me, if I had one wish...

If I had... one wish...

I would wish...

...for your son to come back.

Because I know he would tell us all...

how important this struggle is.

This is an important struggle for all,

for the safety and security of all Americans

and how proud he is to have served his country.

Frankly, sir, I don’t think you know my son well enough to--

Thank you, Mrs. Hofstadter. Thank you so much.

We’ll be back after these messages.

Oh, thank you. Mmm!

Bring it on.

There is no way you’re gonna tell me that wasn’t planned.

It was not planned.

Oh, come on!

I’ve been hearing about you forever.

You’re supposed to be the smartest guy in D.C.

Well, look. The smartest guy in D.C. just fucked up, okay?

I just--

I blanked out on live TV.

Never had that happen before. It was great.

You were like... crying.

It was, like,

so... sincere.

See, that’s the thing.

You have this credibility.

I mean, you and I are basically saying the same shit,

but people treat me like I’m some sort of circus act.

Do you believe that stuff you say?

Yes!

Well, I mean, you know.

I mean, come on, it’s words, it's a game.

You say whatever it takes to win.

Well, maybe that’s your problem.

Okay.

So you believe what you say.

You believe a soldier would come back and be, like, "By the way, thanks for getting me killed"?

No, I don’t believe that.

Okay, okay.

Couple tricks I can teach you.

Oh...

That waiter keeps winking at you.

Oh. I think I knew him once. You were saying?

Okay. Here’s the thing.

You want the audience to see you thinking.

You get a question. You already know what you’re gonna say. It's some dumb-ass talking point.

But you think about it. You drag it out. You go--

Well... Marty...

that...

...is really interesting.

See?

Thinking.

Okay.

Ask me a question.

Okay.

Well, Jane. Tell me.

What color panties are you wearing tonight?

Well... Marty...

...I’m not wearing any panties!

See? I’m fun.

I’m so much fun.

And the men in this town, they’re such emasculated pussies.

They’re all afraid of me.

And why is that?

Maybe they just don’t like you.

No, seriously.

Maybe it’s the force of your intellect.

Well, there’s not much I can do about that.

You know why I like you?

I’ve known you over an hour, and you haven’t made one single joke about my name.

That’s all I get from these bozos.

"Meat Cleaver," "June Cleaver," "Beaver Cleaver."

Well, that’d just be rude. I hardly know you.

Well, we can fix that...

...in a hurry.

What’d you have in mind?

Well... Marty...

Sorry, honey, I gotta take that.

No.

It’s POTUS. That’s my POTUS tone.

Oh, Jesus. Can I listen?

Murch here. David. Catch you at a bad time?

No, no, not at all. That’s not the President. That’s Kurt Rand.

It’s the same thing.

David?

Sorry, Kurt. I just, uh...

I had someone he--

...someone here.

It’s not Jane Cleaver, is it?

No.

Well, tell her "hi" if it is.

Hey, we caught you today on the Clark show. POTUS was watching.

I don’t know what happened there. I must have had some kind of brain fart.

No, listen, he loved it. He was moved by it.

Moved by it?

Hell, yes. That’s why I'm calling.

That bit about the wish and the soldier coming back,

that’s great stuff, man.

He wants to use it in the stump speech.

Whoo!

Jesus, be my guest.

But here’s the thing.

He said it to you.

You just went on the Clark show and repeated it. Okay?

Of course. We all know what a silver-tongued debater the pre--

Something wrong?

No. No, everything’s fine.

Hmhh. Well, good work.

You tell Janie bye-bye, okay?

Bye, Kurt.

Bye, Janie.

Oh... I am so gonna make you scream.

Power is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

Henry Kissinger said that.

In D.C., even second-hand power has its compensations.

That’s why America is number one.

My, God, he’s good.

They just adore him.

What is it? What has he got? It’s a gift.

He’s not stupid, but he has a way of making stupid people

feel like they’re just as smart as he is.

Oh! Wait. Shh! I think this is it!

I suffer.

I suffer when I see those numbers every day.

I see ’em before you do.

And I tell my staff, I tell ’em all the time--

If I could have one wish,

one big wish,

I’d bring those brave, young Americans back.

Because, if they could come back,

I think I know what they would say.

He was wrong about that.

Dead wrong.

The first incident took place less than 48 hours later,

when the regular night flight arrived at Dover Air Force Base,

carrying a brand-new batch of caskets from the war.

Left face!

Left face!

Forward, march!

...

halt!

Fall out!

Copy that.

We’ve got another civilian taking pictures.

Newspaper guys again?

Don’t know.

Main thing is, secure the camera.

Copy.

Seen a figure. Running around back of the hangar.

Could be inside by now.

Sir?

You are trespassing

on a United States military installation.

I suggest you make yourself known, sir.

Sir?

There are no cameras allowed here.

It is against the policy of the U.S. military to allow cameras--

Sir!

What the...

Stop! Stop there!

Stop! Please, stop!

Look. I know you’re alive. We’ll send a medic to help. Just, please, stop!

Fuck!

Freeze!

At ease, soldier.

Peggy Pepper’s daughter came and took us out to the Wounded Steer.

Have you tried that buffet? I love those croutons they have.

Sorry, Mom, gotta take this.

Murch.

What?

Yeah. I’m just dying to do his show again after he called me a dick on the air.

Hey, can I call you back? I’m with my mom.

His hip never really healed up

after that truck accident he had.

Slow down.

You drive so darn fast.

Sorry, Mom.

Murch.

He what?

Well, fire his ass! You don’t need me to tell you that!

Listen, can I call you back? I’m with my mother.

Patty Ranahan’s boy came by to see her last night.

He stood outside the window,

in the moonlight, she said.

So she went out on the patio.

He just wanted to tell her good-bye.

Patty Ranahan?

Isn’t she the one-- Wasn't her son killed in the war?

Yes, that’s him.

I thought it was odd when she told me.

Well, what? Is she off her meds?

Oh, I don’t know, dear.

Maybe I just got the details wrong.

He liked chocolates.

Well, you’re making some little squirrel very happy.

Oh, go on.

You can answer it. No, no, no.

It’s just my-- It's a woman I’ve been seeing... on and off.

Oh?

Have I heard about this one?

Actually, it’s Jane Cleaver.

From TV?

Oh, you be careful, hon.

She’s what we used to call a "skank."

Hey, Mom, wait here a minute.

Hey! Buddy!

Hey, buddy, what the hell are you doing?

Mom! Get in the car!

Lock the door!

God... damn!

What happened? Those men, they looked like they--

Look, Mom, I don’t know what they--

I don’t know who they were, okay, but we’re safe now, so you can relax.

Murch.

David, we got us a little situation developing here.

If I tell you what it is, you’re gonna think I'm crazy.

Yeah? Try me.

All vets? Veterans of the current engagement, to be precise.

You know that little speech of yours about the soldier coming back?

Yeah? That one is no longer in heavy rotation.

Hope you haven’t just eaten.

Oh, Jesus!

Yeah. I told you.

David, I’d like you to meet

PFC Bobby Earl Beeler.

Well, say "hi," peckerwood.

Oh, sorry. You can’t say hi. No vocal cords.

You could wave, though, if you had any manners.

Private Beeler here died on the operating table,

after which he put up a hell of a fuss.

How many of these...

...of these cases are there?

About two dozen, that we know about.

Word’s getting around, but the papers are afraid to touch it ’cause it's so damn lurid.

They’re on the streets, Kurt!

There’s no hushing this one up.

I figure we have a day or two. After that, we need a good solid lie.

But what is happening?

How can a dead soldier get up--

Don’t know, buddy-roe. That’s why we got this lab.

The thing is, you can’t kill 'em,

and God knows we’ve tried.

Here. You wanna try?

No. Thanks.

Shoot ’em, they keep on coming.

Cut ’em up in pieces, the pieces keep coming.

We amputated his leg, and you know what it did?

Damn thing kicked a doctor square in the ass!

Not to be premature, but I’m thinking supernatural.

He feels it, Kurt. You see?

He feels pain.

Ah, hell. He volunteered.

Somethin’ to think about, huh?

Soldier who can’t be killed.

Takes a lickin’ and keeps on tickin’.

I mean, shoot, our recruitment numbers are in the sewer.

If we could keep the same dead G.I.s out on the battlefield forever--

that’s like the answer to a prayer. Kurt.

Why do you think they came back?

What do you suppose they want?

Couldn’t be the disability benefits.

A day later, when the story broke wide,

we found out what they wanted.

And coincidentally, we found out how to kill them.

Excuse me, sir.

Robert? Robert Buntin?

Why are you here?

What do you want, Robert?

You wanna vote?

Do you have your I.D.?

Do you need instructions? You know how to use the punch card?

Then you can go right over there.

It’s, uh, good to see you, Robert.

Where is he?

Over there.

He’s voting.

He’s dead. He’s really dead.

A miracle, Marty.

Nothing less than a pure miracle.

It is the hand of God

reaching down to touch our nation,

our blessed President,

our brave warriors, and their grieving families.

He is the resurrection and the life.

Amen. Hmm.

In addition to the San Francisco incident,

we now have confirmed reports of resurrected soldiers

in Boston, Detroit,

the Florida panhandle,

and several cases here in D.C.

Jane? Well, Marty,

far be it from me to offend members of a loser religion,

but if I’m an Islamofascist right now, I have to take this as an omen.

Talk about "Our God Is Bigger Than Your God..."

So you’re saying that all of this is just a stamp of Heavenly Approval?

I’m sure our atheist liberal friends are looking for a different way to spin it.

But if you remember what our President said a couple of weeks ago--

how he wished that our fallen soldiers could come back and tell us how they felt

about the sacrifice they made in this great cause--

Well, that’s exactly what we're seeing now. Not even death will stop the march of freedom.

That’s a Murch line if I ever heard one.

Which raises another point.

The marine in San Francisco, Sergeant Robert Buntin,

we had reports that he went to an early voter registration center

and cast a vote for president.

Now, Jane, is that legal?

Well, Marty,

the laws vary by state.

There are two questions here.

Are the soldiers legally dead?

Is undead the same as dead?

And, two: This man is a hero who died fighting for this country.

Who’s gonna tell him he doesn't have the right to vote?

The right to vote is...

David, you have transformed that gal.

She’s-- She's so damn credible.

Just gave her a couple of talking points.

What do you say, Kathy? Think we could put this gal in office?

Something small at first. Maybe the Senate.

God, can you see her in a debate? With him feedin’ her lines?

And those legs of hers in a little leather mini? Yeah, like you care.

If you want to talk about precedent, Marty,

in Chicago, dead people have been voting since time began.

Nasty...

We’ll take this break. We’ll be right back.

Gentlemen, I think we have created a monster.

Smile, bad boy. You done good.

We don’t know what we’re messing with here, Kurt.

This could jump right up and bite us on the ass.

Well, it jumped, and it bit. What’s his problem?

The dead wanted to vote, all right.

They just didn’t want to vote for us.

Mmm. I saw one of those things today.

I was in Caffeine City, and I looked out the window. It was, like, oh, God, there it was.

I mean, I always liked guys in uniform, but only with, like, some skin.

Mmm. I think he knew me.

Murch.

What?

Hey! My segment’s after the commercial. Not now. We got a talker.

Have you ever been to war, sir?

You’ve seen men get killed?

No. No, I had a medical, uh...

I’ve seen men get killed, sir...

...for a lie.

Women and children killed for a lie.

I’ve seen my friends

killed for a lie.

I was killed for a lie.

What is it you want, Sergeant?

We want one thing.

We want to vote.

And we’ll vote for anyone

who ends this evil war.

Bastard.

It’s as if the bowels in hell

had opened and disgorged these demons in our midst,

these Satanic spawn devils

that walk among us.

The end is near.

It is at hand, and we must beg God’s forgiveness

for our sins and immorality that has brought

this plague upon this once-great nation.

We’re looking at shots here of Baltimore,

but as you know, the government today declared

that all zombie soldiers are a public health threat

pending further tests.

So how about it, Jane? Do these deceased veterans have rights,

and are they being violated?

The fact is, Marty, they’ve studied these creatures,

and they have no higher brain function.

Their intelligence level is basically that of a liberal.

Do you let ’em vote?

As I’ve always said, you stand by the law.

The law says deceased voters

are supposed to be routinely purged from the voting rolls.

But you said last week--

On top of which, Marty, these things, they’re turncoats.

They’ve betrayed their country and their government and their fellow soldiers,

And they’re giving aid and comfort to the enemy.

Now as I said, they’re brain-dead. Maybe they’re not responsible.

Maybe they won’t go to hell. Verily, they shall!

So. What’s the solution?

Monsters, traitors-- there’s one solution for both.

Mobs... torches... pitchforks.

The face of this war had always been ugly.

We’d always tried to hide it from the public,

but then, they were among us,

these dead young men, these "monsters,"

demanding only that we look at that face and acknowledge what we had done.

Son!

You shouldn’t be out here in this rain.

This’ll keep you warm for a bit.

You want something to eat?

We have some coffee.

We-- We know what you’ve--

We want you to know that somebody

does appreciate you.

We have a boy--

our Jim.

He’s over there, too.

We don’t complain. We know that some are called to duty.

But we pray every night

that he will come back home

alive and--

That’s Beulah.

That’s his dog.

It’s okay.

It’s all right.

It’s all right.

What’s your name, son?

"Michael."

Michael.

That’s a nice name.

Michael?

I’m Irene.

Irene Baker.

Are you from around here, Michael?

God damn it, why don’t they do something?

Eat a brain, or bite somebody’s throat out, or something, God damn it.

At least we’d have an excuse to round ’em up.

We are rounding them up, Kurt.

You grab one, and another one pops up. We don’t have the manpower for this!

The whole damn National Guard’s overseas!

Meanwhile--

Five days to election, and our numbers are off a cliff,

like Wile E. damn Coyote, and you know why?

’Cause we got these undead creeps at every damn mall and bus stop

looking all-shot-up and pitiful!

They do make quite an impression.

What if we just ignored ’em?

Say what?

Just treat ’em like regular vets.

Welcome home, our heroic sons.

Let ’em do what they want to.

Let ’em sit around. Let ’em vote.

What are you now, the zombie rights advocate? Why not?

How many of them are there?

What is it, a couple hundred now?

They oughta max out soon.

Not necessarily.

We got quite a few dead ones we’re keeping off the books.

Even so, a few hundred votes is not gonna swing a national election.

Florida.

Point withdrawn.

It’s not just their damn votes.

It’s all the live people they’re getting to!

Tell me something.

The military vote is ours. Always.

How come we can’t find one dead soldier on our side?

If they died for a cause they believe in,

they’re at peace.

They’ve got no reason to come back.

How did you know that? ’Cause I started it all.

Remember?

"If I had one wish?"

I wish you had that wish back.

If that’s true...

...the majority of dead soldiers support the war.

They haven’t come back.

Oh... tough sell, Kurt.

"Look at all the soldiers that support our President by staying dead."

Well, then, give me an idea!

The three of us sold a war, damn it!

We sold a war based on nothing but horse shit and elbow grease!

We are the best in the goddamn game!

It’s not a goddamn game, Kurt!

Why do you think this is happening? Because we sold a war

based on nothing but horse shit and elbow grease!

And those poor motherfuckers died for it!

Excuse me. There is no defeatist rhetoric in this room!

Where are you going? I’m gonna get drunk within an inch of my life.

Then I’m gonna sleep for eight hours straight

while you go find a soldier who was proud to give his life

for horse shit and elbow grease!

Hold it!

You know how to piss me off.

But you’re a goddamn genius.

Which one is he? They’ll find him.

We keep records.

Cheer up, weepy. You’re finally gonna get your wish.

This blows, Kurt.

See, I blame Mrs. Janet Hofstadter for all this.

Going on TV, mouthing off, making you cry like that.

She’s fair game now.

And that’s her boy, right there--

Corporal Gordon Hofstadter.

How’s that for symbolic value?

How would you like to be on the Marty Clark Show?

Can you talk, Corporal?

Then may I ask, why don’t you?

Hurts.

Ah.

We have a prepared statement.

If it would be more convenient, we could have someone read it for you on the show,

and you could simply nod your head "yes."

Would you like to read it?

So... you don’t support the war.

You don’t support the President.

That would be too much to ask.

Why did you go to war, Corporal? To protect your homeland, your family?

To protect your loved ones, right?

Those are noble reasons.

What’s the mom's number?

Speed dial "1".

Rand here. Put Mrs. Hofstadter on the line, if you would.

Your mother would like to have a little chat with you, Gordon.

Gordon? Honey? Is it you?

Yeah, Ma.

I love you, honey.

They said I could only have a second to speak to you, but...

there’s a paper they want you to sign?

It might be best if you signed it, honey.

But you should do what your conscience di--

It might be best if you signed it, Gordon.

God, there’s so much I want to say, but I’m proud of you, honey.

And I love you. I love you, Ma.

I’m--

Did your mom give you some good advice, Gordon?

Ohh!

You can let Mrs. Hofstadter go now.

I don’t want her bothered any more. Understand?

No. This is David Murch. Mr. Rand...

Mr. Rand can’t come to the phone now.

I don’t understand it.

Why me?

And why did I have to be the focus of all this?

So awful about Kurt.

Just awful.

I guess Kathy moves into his job.

Yeah, I guess.

Who moves into her job?

Why do you ask?

David, I want to be an insider.

I want to have real power, like you.

I’m learning so much from you. It’s amazing, even to me.

But, Jane, you’re funny. You’re photogenic.

You’re more useful in front of the cameras.

Yeah, but I won’t be 35 forever.

You’re 41.

David... I want to be your protégé.

I want you to groom me.

You want me to kiss - the dead marine? - No.

Is something wrong?

Jane... Kurt Rand was like a big brother to me.

I watched him die today.

I watched... him die.

I have never seen...

anyone--

Jesus. What is it with you?

It’s like there's an answer to all this. I know it. I know it’s right there.

Right in front of me, but I can’t see it.

I can’t... put my hand on it.

Of course, I didn’t have long to wait

before the answer put its hand on me.

But when you put these formerly deceased veterans in internment camps,

aren’t you questioning their patriotism, David?

Aren’t you really saying that they’re a menace-- Of course not. Marty.

The Formerly Deceased Veterans are in medical quarantine.

I’m pleased to say they’ve been cleared.

We hope to have them processed and back on the streets by Monday.

So they can vote on Tuesday?

No one in this administration

would contest the right of these brave men and women to vote.

And I resent that implication, Marty.

My brother gave his life in Vietnam.

So you deny the allegations.

Allegations?

All over the Web today-- liberal Websites.

Here’s one: "LiberumArbitrium-dot-com." It’s a typical blog.

"One question for administration mouthpiece David Murch,

who trades on his respect for veterans.

If his brother did die in Vietnam,

why isn’t his name on the Memorial Wall?"

Well, that’s absurd. It is.

Where exactly, David?

Well, I never found it.

There are 40-some thousand names--

Marty, this-- this is a-- a baseless, cheap smear.

This is despicable!

According to the documents produced on the Website here on the screen,

Lance Corporal Philip Murch was honorably discharged

and shipped home to Silver Springs, Maryland in March

of 1971.

You’re among friends, here, David. Here’s your chance to respond.

All right.

Before we go to break, condolences, once again,

to the family of presidential adviser Kurt Rand,

dead at 52 of a massive heart attack.

We’ll be right back.

We thought it was best for you, sweetheart.

When Philip came home, he was...

he was different.

I don’t know if he'd gotten into those drugs or what,

but he wasn’t Philip anymore.

Mom said to help her carry the groceries.

Squirt, you can’t frighten people like that.

Okay.

Hold on a sec.

Okay, but you’re gonna help, too, okay, Squirt?

Come on.

You would never have hurt Philip.

You worshiped him, David.

You had no way of knowing.

- Halt. Friend or foe? - Whoa!

Squirt, that’s not funny. Put the gun down, okay?

Friend or foe? Put the gun down!

Friend or foe? Look, this is not a game. Put it down!

You’re dead. Get up. Get up!

You’ll see, Mommy.

I’m going to wish. I’m gonna wish

for Philip to come back and be okay.

And he’ll tell you we were just playing a game.

I know, baby.

That’s gonna be my wish for every day

till he comes back and be okay.

You’re a good boy, David.

It was just a game.

It was just a game.

We hoped you’d forget...

...if we didn’t talk about it.

And eventually you did.

Son?

Yeah?

Do you think Philip might come back?

Patty Ranahan’s boy came back.

I would like to see him one more time...

before...

I don’t know, Mom.

I don’t know.

I’d forgotten, all right.

Mainly I forgot that you don’t treat other people’s lives as a game.

Now I had over a thousand Philips on my conscience.

But they voted. I saw to that.

I went in to POTUS, and I gave him the sales pitch of my life.

And on election day, by God, they voted.

And when they’d made their point

and their voices were heard,

they were finally at peace.

Exit polls indicate that the incumbent is trailing in these two key states.

And obviously, he needs those states.

We will keep an eye on that one. That’s gonna be tight all night long.

You know that this is going to turn out to be,

in history, the year of the former...

We’re down six in Ohio.

How about Florida?

Not as bad, but bad enough.

We played it wrong, David.

I did what was right. Yeah...

Well, you put us in a damn bad spot. And now I have to make the call.

You really have to make the call?

What should I do? Let the other side steal this election?

Steal it?

Jesus. Kathy, they won it.

Oh, no, they haven’t. Not yet.

Because we count the votes.

We do what’s best for America, David.

If the voters disagree,

that’s their problem.

It is a miracle comeback! Unbelievable!

This is the story, friends. With 89% of the precincts reporting,

the President has now moved ahead in Ohio,

and Florida is now too close to call.

The big story, the one you want to look at is

what happened to those early exit polls that indicated

that the President was going down to defeat?

Didn’t happen. Of course, our news media

have gotten that story wrong once or twice in the past as well!

It was almost 4 a.m. before they finally called it.

Our side won. Imagine that.

Six weeks in Bora Bora. That’s what we need.

That’ll fix us right up.

I can’t, David.

I have to ramp up.

Kathy wants me on the team!

Really!

At her old job?

No, you dumb shit. Yours!

She told me you were packing it in.

But you can still be my... mentor

and spiritual adviser.

Jane!

You’re so good to me!

Kathy! What is it? What’s happening?

I’m about to catch a helicopter.

I advise you to get the fuck out of town till we figure out what do do.

They’re all coming back!

They’re coming out of Arlington! All of them!

World War II, Korea, Vietnam.

We said we’d count their votes, but we didn’t.

We lied. What were they going to do?

Well, they did what soldiers always do.

They called for reinforcements.

Come and get it, ya pansies! Bring it on!

I’m sorry, Jane.

I never should have opened my mouth.

Ah, shit.

You’re the one that called us back.

That’s right.

You said we’d have a voice. But you betrayed us.

That’s right.

I got it comin’.

So go on. I’m not afraid. Do what you’re gonna do.

Help us.

Help you?

Join us.

We’re lookin' for a few good men.

Hi, Squirt.

Friend or foe?

Philip?

Long time no see.

You did your best, little brother.

I’d be proud to fight beside you.

The government continues, in exile.

But Washington, D.C. is ours.

We are here to stay, all across this country,

an army of fighters, one million strong,

who laid down our lives to defend the land we love.

But know this truth:

Our lives are precious.

And if you ever again send our brothers and sisters

to give their lives for a needless, pointless lie,

then we guarantee that you will see the true face of war:

the face of hell.

Closed-Captioned By J.R. Media Services, Inc. Burbank, CA

♪ Can’t tell ya where I’ve been ♪

♪ Can’t tell ya what I’ve seen ♪

♪ Can’t tell ya what I’ve known ♪

♪ This curse is in the way

♪ So help me, help me ♪

♪ I’m headin' off to war ♪

♪ So help me, help me ♪

♪ I’m headin' off to war ♪

♪ So help me, help me ♪

♪ I’m headin' off to war ♪

♪ So help me, help me ♪