Original subtitles

♪ San Antone, it's really good to see you ♪

♪ It's been a while, but you've been on my mind ♪

♪ I've seen your rolling hills and winding rivers ♪

♪ so clear that I could almost make them mine ♪

♪ I can almost see the old Bandera highway ♪

♪ Stretching out toward old Mexico ♪

♪ And the times we used to walk down by the river ♪

♪ Now it seems like such a long, long time ago ♪

♪ San Antone, it's really good to see you ♪

♪ It's been a while, but you've been on my mind ♪

♪ I've been a lot of places ♪

♪ But I think I've always known ♪

♪ One day I'd come back to San Antone ♪

♪ Sitting here and looking out the window ♪

♪ Thinking just how good things used to be ♪

♪ Well, I might be coming back to only memories ♪

♪ Oh, but, San Antone, you sure look good to me ♪

Zero plus eight to liftoff.

Motor's primed, nearly completed.

Main and secondary rockets in liftoff position and ready.

The situation is go.

Atmosphere clean, visibility unlimited.

Weather conditions are as predicted for this moon shot.

Hello, Houston?

Houston, this is Jack in position

zebra, buck, six.

Zebra buck, the first stage completed at 13:09 minus five.

13:09 minus five.

We have full speed, visibility unlimited. Over.

We are aborting the launch.

We are aborting the launch.

Aborting the launch. Aborting the launch.

- There's nothing up there!

Nothing! Noth--

Somebody's coming.

Good morning, you fucking Venusians!

Mayday! Mayday!

- You wanna fight me? I'll fight you!

- Mayday, Mayday! Sink the Bismarck!

- I'm coming down.

- God, this looks like a job for Superman.

- Damn you, Major Nammack, get a move on!

Move it!

Move it, you weirdos!

- You know I wish you'd douche, sincerely.

- Watch your elbow.

- Hey Ma, throw down a quarter for the movies, please?

- Damned sun. There is no color in the air.

- What country is this?

- The Bronx.

Rudolph Valentino hated cabbage.

- Attention!

Hail Caesar!

Toward the end of the war in Vietnam,

an unusually high percentage of American servicemen

suddenly manifested symptoms of psychosis.

Most of them were in combat, or slated for combat,

and had no prior history of mental disturbance.

These facts, plus the epidemic scope of the problem

and the controversial nature of the Vietnam war,

led American authorities to wonder whether many,

if not most, of the men were faking.

To probe the mystery, the government established a network

of secret study centers and clinics.

The last of these, number 18,

was highly experimental in nature

and was set up in an old, abandoned castle

in the Pacific Northwestern United States.

Among its inmates was an astronaut,

who, during final countdown, had aborted a mission

into outer space.

Robert Browning had the clap,

and he caught it from Charlotte and Emily Bronte.

Shut your mouth, you crazy bastard.

You don't want to hear the truth.

He caught it from both of them.

Shut up!

Fucking weirdos.

Yellow smart ass college pricks.

That says it.

- Who do you think you're kidding, huh?

Well, bad news, boys.

Tough shit.

'Cause guess who's coming to take command next week?

Can you guess, boys, huh?

A psychiatrist!

The best. The best in uniform.

The greatest fucking psychiatrist since Jung!

Hissing you're good at, you slimy snakes.

Bravo.

- Good image.

- Splendid, Groper.

Just one more thing, sir.

What?

Stick a pineapple up your ass

and pretend you're Hawaiian.

Jesus.

- Damn it! - Who the hell's coming?

Vincent

Vincent.

Vincent.

Sorry, sir.

Yes, it's all right.

♪ I'm confessing that I love you ♪

♪ Tell me, do you love me too ♪

♪ I'm confessing that I need you ♪

♪ Honest, I do ♪

♪ Need you every morning ♪

Shut up!

What's that in your hand?

A foghorn.

Chinese junks have been reported in the area.

Cutshaw, get back in line.

Line?

Fall in!

Otay!

You're supposed to be nice to us, Groper.

We're sick.

Here comes the psychiatrist, Groper.

Better clean up your act!

Yeah, call us pricks now, Groper. Go ahead.

Hey, let's hear it for the shrink.

Let's have a song.

"You Are My Sunshine."

Outta sight.

Oh, gentlemen.

♪ You are my sunshine, my only sunshine ♪

♪ You make me happy when skies are gray ♪

♪ You'll never know, dear, how much I love you ♪

♪ Please don't take my sunshine away ♪

Boys, could we knock this off?

Fuck you.

It's very pretty.

Famous lines from famous movies.

Bravo!

"Oh, Frankie, your mother forgives me!"

- Victor McLaglen in "The Informer".

"We don't need no stinking badges."

"Treasure of Sierra Madre."

- All set, sir.

- Thank you, sergeant.

Take care.

- Goodbye, sir.

- Goodbye.

♪ I love you as I've never loved before ♪

- He's done it again. My jacket, my shirt, and my pants.

- Sir.

♪ I love you as I love you ♪

- Boys, come to attention.

- You've got to say, "Simon says," then we'll do it.

- Play therapy.

What a fine thought.

- Poor bastards.

Simon says, "Fall in!"

- You're the psychiatrist, aren't you? Kane?

Yeah, I thought so. I'm Fromme, I'm the medical officer.

Sure as hell glad you're with us.

I can use all the help I can possibly get. Jesus.

Cutshaw.

Up yours.

Just answer, "Present."

They are really far gone.

- Spinell. - Yo!

- Perhaps. - Gomez.

Presente.

- Fairbanks? - Perhaps?

What are you, Jungian, Freudian?

Some crazy new school of psychiatry?

These guys are nuttier than a wagon load of pralines.

- Fromme.

Fromme. Where's Fromme?

Gentlemen, a fellow officer--

- Would you please direct me to my quarters?

- What?

- My quarters, would you please direct me to my quarters?

- Yeah, just follow the yellow brick road.

- I beg your pardon?

- I said follow, here they are.

- Sergeant Krebs and Christian, sir.

- And bloody damn well about time.

Now will you get this man into surgery?

Or are you planning to just let him stand here

bleeding to death while you and your buddy play soldier?

For Christ's sake, what is this, a hospital or a nuthouse?

No, no! Not the stethoscope!

Give back my stethoscope!

- Don't let him wrinkle the pants!

I'm Colonel Richard Fell. I'm the medic.

Boys.

- Really.

Boys, aren't you being a little bit silly?

- Vincent?

- Could I have that again, please?

- You remind me of Vincent Van Gogh.

Either that or a lark in a wheat field.

I'm not sure which, it's close.

- Have you been drinking?

- Never in uniform, no.

- I see.

- That's my last pair of pants he's got there, you see.

All the rest of 'em are out the cleaners.

And, colonel, if you're planning on my holding this salute

much longer, would you mind calling Memorial Hospital

and tell 'em a donor arm is ready for transplant?

I expect it to be falling off almost any second now.

Oh, gentlemen.

- Thank you, sir. You're a prince of the realm, I swear it.

Simon says, "Shut your fucking mouths!"

Ten-hut!

Listen, I know my rights.

I wanna see my urologist.

- And,

turn.

Hail Caesar!

- Sir, I present the group.

Jesus Christ.

Dismissed!

♪ I'm happy, so happy ♪

♪ Walkin' on air ♪

♪ The why and the wherefore ♪

♪ Is someone I care for ♪

♪ I'm yellin', I'm tellin' folks everywhere ♪

♪ I know that she loves me ♪

♪ So what do I care ♪

♪ There's a rainbow around my shoulder ♪

♪ And a sky of blue above ♪

♪ Oh, the sun shines bright, the world's all right ♪

♪ 'Cause I'm in love ♪

♪ There's a rainbow around my shoulder ♪

♪ And it fits me like a glove ♪

♪ Let it blow and storm, oh I'll be warm ♪

♪ 'Cause I'm in love, hallelujah ♪

♪ How the folks'll stare ♪

♪ When they see that great big solitaire ♪

♪ My little sugar baby is goin' a-wear ♪

♪ Yeah, yeah ♪

♪ There's a rain ♪

- Okay, seven cards.

- Anything wild?

- Deuces, threes, fives, sevens, nines, and jacks.

- You are a very sick man.

Are you finished?

Most people cut them only once.

13 is my lucky number.

Nice.

Jacks are better, come on.

Kings are better.

No, Jacks are better.

I am dealing, I call it.

Did I not hear something about wild cards

at the outset?

- Yes. - Would you repeat them?

Deuces, threes, fives, sevens,

nines, and jacks.

Would you like to add a one-eyed Kings?

Deal, please.

- This is the way we play

in my country. - How many cards you want?

Why are you giving me your cards?

Yup, I know what you mean.

It was Amy Biltmore's place.

She had it brought over here from, uh, Germany,

in 1900, stone by stone.

It belonged to her husband, The Count of Eltz.

What's the matter? You don't like it?

- It's hardly therapeutic.

- Yeah, that's exactly what Dracula said about it.

But, it's hidden away, and it's free.

Biltmores are letting us use it for nothing.

- Oh.

- Wish I hadn't said that.

- You remind me of someone.

- Who?

- I don't know.

But you seem so familiar to me.

- Ha, Dracula said that too.

You see, he sees a neck, he'll say anything.

I guess it will come to me.

What?

Who you remind me of.

Oh, gee, you said it.

- I hid it damn it, I hid it.

- Where'd you-- - Groper.

- But, sir, he's been pounding that--

- I don't care what he's being doing,

you are not to put your hands on him.

But, colonel, he can't...

Yes, sir. Right, sir.

Whatever you say, sir.

You're Captain Fairbanks?

Not today.

I'm sorry, I was sure you were.

- Not today. Do you understand me?

Multiple personality.

My house has many mansions.

I am Dr. Franz von Pauli.

Why do you do that to the wall?

- Because I'm convinced that we can walk through walls.

Not only me, anyone.

Cops, people.

People in Nashville.

I tried to exert the full force of my mind

on all the atoms of my body,

so that they will mix and rearrange and fit exactly

all the holes in that wall.

Then I tried the laboratory method.

I tried to walk through it, through the wall.

Just like a few minutes ago when I took a running bash,

and I failed horribly.

I am punishing the atoms.

I am making an example of them.

An object lesson, a thing.

So when the other atoms see what's coming,

they'll let me pass through.

Independent snots. Shape up or ship out!

- May I?

- No.

Your grip is very, very strong.

I think that your problem may lie

in the properties of the hammer.

Interesting theory.

May I keep it for study?

- You're not gonna play with it or anything?

- No, I won't.

Okay.

Goodnight.

Goodnight, Captain Fairbanks.

- Yeah, I know, I had to kill a fifth of scotch last night

just to get to sleep.

No, no, no. I don't believe in pills.

Sleeping pills keep you awake, anyway.

Why should I have to explain that? It's self-explanatory.

You want me to explain it? All right.

In a very short time, you build up tolerance, right?

That's right. You got it.

Anyway, he's here.

Yeah. Yesterday.

No, I don't know. It's, uh, it's too soon to tell.

Yes, I will.

Yes, I will.

Thank you, sir. Goodbye.

Jesus.

Don't blame me, I told them not to operate.

Welcome to Transylvania.

- Do you plan to get dressed?

- Well now, how can I get dressed when Captain Fromme

won't surrender my pants?

You don't want me to rip them off?

- No.

- You bet your ass, it'll wrinkle the pants.

Well, here you go.

Case histories on the men.

I've been through every one of 'em,

haven't learned a blasted thing.

I think this boar was a diabetic.

- May I come in?

- No. - That's yours.

So that's your couch?

Why don't you make it a bed of nails,

then we can all see the blood pouring out?

Cutshaw, the astronaut.

- I would say yes.

- God almighty.

- You're the new boy, huh?

- I'm Colonel Hudson Kane.

- Do I call you Hud?

Try calling him colonel.

- Are you the one that makes the chicken?

- Colonel Kane's a psychiatrist.

- Sure, and they told me you were a doctor.

This man treats crocodiles for acne!

Why are we quibbling?

Pack up and leave, Hud.

You're on the way out.

I'm acting on orders, so to inform you.

- Who ordered you, Cutshaw?

- Unseen forces far too numerous to enumerate.

Check the files.

It's all in the files.

Here it is.

Now read it, Hud.

Read it out loud.

It's my therapy.

- Why don't we--

- Read it! Or I'll go crazy, dammit, I swear it!

And you'll be responsible.

- All right, Cutshaw. Please sit down.

- I think the end of the world just came

for that bag of Fritos I had in my pocket.

Would you please tell Fromme I'd like my pants?

- Consider the lilies of the field.

I'm waiting.

- Two days prior to a scheduled space shot,

subject officer, while dining on the base,

was observed to pick up a plastic ketchup bottle,

squeeze a thin red line across his throat,

and then to stagger and fall very heavily across a table,

then being occupied by the director

of the National space Administration, gurgling,

"Don't order the swordfish."

- You're looking at my medal, Hud.

Stop looking at my medal.

- No, I'm not--

- Yes, you were. You covet it.

- The following morning--

- Isn't it beautiful?

- Yes, it's very--

- Son of a bitch. I knew it.

There he goes.

- You were looking at it.

- Sorry. - Sorry?

What good is sorry?

I'm a nervous wreck.

He's a wreck.

- Christ, how can I sleep now, waiting for a covetous,

kleptomaniacal colonel, to come creeping around

to my bedside at the camps, to rip away my medal?

- If I were to do that, you might awaken.

- Like hell I'd awaken.

Powerful drugs could be insinuated into my soup.

- The following morning--

- Coveting is a sin.

- The following morning at 0500, subject officer

entered his space craft,

and upon receiving his instruction from control

to begin his countdown, he was heard instead to say,

"I am frankly sick of being used."

Sometime later, subject officer plainly stated that,

"Going to the moon was naughty, impolite, uncouth,

and in any case, bad for his skin."

- What's the matter? You think that's funny?

- No. No, I don't.

- Pack up and leave, Hud!

I've had it!

- Cutshaw, why won't you go to the moon?

- Why do camels have humps, and cobras, none?

- Why won't you go?

- The man in the moon tried to fuck my sister.

- Cutshaw--

- The truth of the matter, is Custer

called Sitting Bull a spic.

- Christ.

- Reasons are dangerous.

What the hell is this?

"How I Believe" by Teilhard.

Show me a Catholic, and I'll show you a junkie.

- Dr. Fell.

I need help.

- That's right.

- Once again that fiendish Douglas

has given me that horrible mark of Fairbanks.

Look, I'm bleeding.

This wound's self-inflicted?

- Hey.

My Coronelito. You are not well.

- No, I'm fine.

- But your coloring is absolutely bilious.

- Vic, Kane, look out!

- Ah.

- Look out!

- Right there. - Damn it.

- I want your name, badge number,

and the name of every other boar in your group.

You have the right to remain silent--

- There. A portrait of Jenny, perhaps.

But at least--

- Anything you say-- - No more Dorian Gray.

Can and will be used against you

in a court of law.

- Ciao.

You have the right to speak with an attorney,

and to have the attorney present--

- I know you want to be an alone.

- So desire, and cannot afford one.

Okay, I'm ready for my ink-blot test now.

It absolutely flips me.

Now, while you're fresh with all those roses

in your cheeks.

- Cutshaw, come on.

- He's a psychiatrist!

"My God, Rick, help me!"

- "Casablanca."

- All right, Cutshaw, please sit down.

What do you see?

- An old woman in funny clothes

blowing poisoned darts at a buffalo.

- Bison.

- I'm waiting.

My whole life rushing past me in an instant.

- This one?

- Kafka talking to a bedbug.

- Correct.

- You're full of shit. You know that?

- I thought it was Kafka.

- You wouldn't know Kafka from Bette Davis.

And you, you're a mental case.

- Yes, maybe I am.

- Ingratiating bastard.

Do you always play kiss ass with the loonies?

- No.

- I like you, Kane, you're regular.

Take the medal.

I'll take this book.

- What book?

- "I Remember Mama" by Oedipus Rex.

Hemorrhoidal bisacodyl suppositories.

And by Woolite,

cold water wash. - May I go?

- You're gone, you're gone. - So far, so good.

so far, very good.

I also wanna hear what Jessup has to say

about the headaches.

But you did say that you were encouraged,

now didn't you?

I did, and I am.

Also, I'm gonna have a nurse bring in something

to help you sleep tonight.

It's only seven o'clock.

Well, you can stay up till--

- Saint Christopher.

- Protect us.

- There's something engraved on the back.

- "Ora pro nobis?"

- "I am a Buddhist.

In case of accident, call a lama."

What's Cutshaw's religion?

- I don't know. Read the file. It's all in the file.

Elementary psychology.

Well, here are my pants.

- What's this?

- I think it's a dog.

Goddammit, not the pants.

- Ah, there you are.

Now do I have to put up with your temperament

this early in the morning? - All right, Reno, all right.

Sorry, colonel. It's hard to keep track of these--

- Major Groper, let him be.

- But, colonel, he's been--

- It's all right. The men may see me whenever they need to.

- You heard.

- Whatever you say, sir.

Yes, sir.

- Quit drinking buttermilk daiquiris in the closet, Groper.

That man is a lunatic and dangerous.

Once, one night I was walking the grounds,

I hear this whispering, see, and I look.

And up in the branches of this cypress tree,

there's Groper, the crazy bastard,

talking in whispers with an owl.

- With a what?

- A big black and white owl. They're common.

I couldn't testify to what they were saying.

They were whispering, understand me?

I couldn't hear them clearly.

And what I don't know for a fact, I don't say.

That's the kind of hairpin I am.

- Reno.

- No, sir, their words weren't clear.

Really, sir, believe me.

- But there isn't a cypress tree on the grounds.

- Doctor, it's easy to dig up a tree,

and then anyone with money can fill in the hole.

- I didn't think of that.

- No, you didn't.

- Is this your dog?

- What does it look like, my zebra?

What do you call him?

- Irresponsible. He's ten minutes late for rehearsal.

Out, sir Lawrence.

- Lieutenant Reno is adapting Shakespeare's plays for dogs.

- A labor of love, a fucking headache,

but, goddammit, somebody's got to do it.

We're just getting into "Julius Caesar."

Wanna come to rehearsal?

We're doing a terribly gripping scene

where this very noble-looking dalmatian

whips his toga around himself thusly and snarls,

"Et tu, White Fang?"

I'd like to ask your opinion about a problem in "Hamlet."

You see, if I cast a great dane in the role,

they're going to accuse me of being--

- Hey, Frankie, look.

- Excuse me.

- Lieutenant Spinell, my casting director.

- Hi ya, fellas.

- We're looking for talent.

So far, this production is a one-dog show.

Who's that?

- I thought maybe Rosencrantz or Guildenstern.

- Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are males.

This dog is a female.

- So we take a license.

- Get the fuck out of here.

- Okay, it was only a suggestion.

You're gonna find these others mutts next time--

- Sorry.

- I named him Sir Lawrence.

Jesus, why do I live like this?

One role, and he thinks he's Barbara Streisand.

What about Richard the Dead?

I'll triple that little dog--

- Read the classics,

it improves the whole respiratory system.

'Cause Richard III had a,

one of 'em had a hump on his back, okay?

Soon as I get these other guys cast, their cash,

it's one day--

- Hanun.

Yeah, I know all about it, yeah, yeah.

We're talkin' about eight, hey, Frank.

- Quiet.

I asked for Rosencrantz and Guildenstern,

and what did you bring me?

Tiny Alice.

I want dobermans, I want even a collie--

Stop breakin' my balls.

- Fairbanks.

- It is one of my multiple personalities.

I am Sister Eve Black.

- I understand.

- The Little sisters of the Poor

is a recognized charity, Krebs.

Fuck off.

- Are they all that bad?

- He was flying those planes we got from the Germans.

You know, the ones that take off from the vertical

and then fly straight.

24 of the damned things crashed for no reason at all,

and right after number 24,

Fairbanks found out he could talk to trees.

- You think they're faking it then?

- I don't know. I only got here myself a week ago.

Biggest mystery is Cutshaw, I guess.

- Why him?

- Well, he wasn't in combat, why should he fake it?

And what about Reno?

The man holds a Congressional Medal of Honor.

Now, he's, he's pretending insanity to get outta combat?

But, I'll tell you one thing, they all have high IQs.

Some of 'em near-genius, as a matter of fact.

Most other fakery I've heard about from the corps

comes under the category of falling out of parade

in front of a reviewing stand and urinating,

preferably on some field-grade officer's leg.

- I don't know. Maybe we're just fish out of water.

- What was that?

- I just think about sickness,

cancer in children,

earthquakes, war,

painful death.

Death.

Just death.

If these things are just part of our natural environment,

why do we think of them as evil?

Why do they horrify us so?

Unless we were meant for someplace else.

I don't think evil grows out of madness.

I think madness grows out of evil.

- Hell, I don't know.

Maybe you oughta give 'em all shock treatment, you know?

Might shake out the phonies, what do you think?

You hate it.

Well, I'll see you later.

Holding, holding, holding.

What are you holding, holding, holding?

- All secure, sir.

- Sergeant Krebs, please tell Colonel Fell

I want to see him.

- Colonel Fell has signed out for the day, sir.

- Captain Bennish may need a Thorazine injection.

Who has a key to the drug locker?

- Only Colonel Fell, sir.

- Sergeant Krebs, please tell Colonel Fell I need to see him

as soon as he gets back.

- Yes, sir. I will.

- Good night, sergeant.

- Good night, sir.

- Close the door please, Krebs.

Colonel, what are you holding?

Colonel, why did you cut off his head with a wire?

And he kept on talking, talking?

Colonel, he was just a boy, boy.

- Let's go to the beach.

- It's night, and it's raining.

- I see you're determined to start an argument.

- Go to bed, please.

- Hud, there is nothing less attractive

than a psychiatrist who pouts.

- Cutshaw--

- What do I have to do just to get in a word with you?

Offer sacrifice?

Then, here.

I brought you a mud-pie.

Now, can I talk to you?

- Will you talk about the moon?

- Listen, everyone knows the moon is Roquefort.

I've come here to talk about Colonel Fell.

- What about him?

Major Nammack approached him this morning,

complaining of a strange and wondrous illness.

And do you know what that heartless butcher prescribed?

He said, "Here, take this.

It's a suicide pill with a mild laxative side-effect."

What kind of bedside manner is that?

I break the arrow of peace.

- Why do you wear that arm-band?

Because I am in mourning.

- For whom?

- For God. If God exists, then he's a fink.

Or more likely a Foot, a giant all-knowing,

all-powerful Foot.

I don't belong to the God is alive

and hiding in Argentina club.

But I believe in the Devil, all right.

You know why?

Because the prick keeps doing commercials.

- Original sin might be real.

- Hello? Operator?

- Maybe it was something genetic.

- Can you prove there's a Foot?

- There are some arguments from reason.

- Are those the things we use to justify

dropping atomic bombs on Japan?

- I'm sorry we had to roust you out like this.

When he got news what we were trying, he hit the ceiling.

We needed all the help we could get.

And in a hell of a hurry.

- Think we convinced him?

- Oh, yeah. He bought it.

- God, I hope so.

- I know how you feel.

- You do?

- No, I, I guess I don't.

- Well, that's life, huh?

- Take it easy, huh?

I sure hope it all works out for you.

- Yeah.

Every kind thought is the hope of the world, right?

See you later.

Oh.

- Good luck.

- Horatio.

- Get me a greyhound.

I said, "Get me a greyhound."

- Greyhound.

- That's right.

- Laertes.

- Pekingese.

- You gonna play him three feet off the ground?

- I want people to wonder about him.

- That'll do it.

- Why the fuck are you bothering me?

- Polonius.

- Laertes is supposed to be a foil to Hamlet.

- Polonius.

- I swear I'm gonna hit you in the mouth.

- Polonius.

- A chow.

- No tickie, no shirtie.

- Pretty?

- No, a chow ain't that bad.

- What the fuck are you doing?

- I think he's suffocating.

Goodnight, sweet prince.

- Goodnight.

- Colonel?

- I am telling you, Kane is the one who's crazy.

He just sat there doing this. All the time doing this.

Hell, he never even saw me.

- I want you to drop, like an overripe mango.

- A lot of psychiatrists are deeply disturbed.

They've got the highest suicide rate

of any profession in the world.

Now, that's a fact.

You can check it, Captain Billy.

- Mm-hmm.

What the hell were you doing in the clinic?

- I had cookies in my teeth.

Raisins and crap like that, you know?

I needed some dental floss.

- Mm-hmm.

- I'm telling you, he is Gregory Peck in "Spellbound."

He comes to take over the mental asylum,

and he's nuts himself, I swear it.

It's just like that picture.

I took a fork and in the tablecloth in front of him,

I made ski tracks, and he fainted.

- Would you kindly have the goodness to admit

that you are able to read my thoughts?

That my spaceship crashed on the planet Venus,

that this is Venus, and you are a Venusian.

That you have illegally invaded my mind,

to make me believe that I'm still on Earth,

a belief that's all a demonic hypnotic illusion.

This is not Earth! You're not an earthman!

I'm standing here in fungus up to my asshole, you bastard!

You're a giant brain!

Please give me back my flying belt.

I won't use it to escape, I swear to God, I won't.

Give me the flying belt.

Oh I wanna play Tinker Bell in drag,

in a fungoid production of "Peter Pan."

- Malaria victim.

- Can I help you with anything, sir? At all?

- At all? Listen.

- Medication is indicated here.

- Colonel Fell isn't back yet, sir.

- Yeah, he's not back. You know where he is?

He's up there with my flying belt.

You give me back my flying belt!

I want my flying belt back!

You give me back my flying belt.

- Michael.

Michael--

- I want my flying belt! - I urge you to be calm.

I want you to be calm. - You freakin' sausages

psychologists. - There are lots

of sick people in this house,

and many of them are sleeping.

This is embarrassing.

I'm terribly sorry.

Captain Cutshaw, Vincent.

In order for life to have appeared spontaneously on Earth,

there first had to be hundreds of millions

of protein molecules, of the ninth configuration.

Vincent.

But given the size of the planet Earth,

do you know how long it would take

for just one of these protein molecules to appear,

entirely by chance?

Vincent.

Roughly 10 to the 243rd power, billions of years.

And I find that far, far more fantastic

than simply believing in a God.

Colonel, what are you--

- Huh?

- Shouldn't sleep like that, wrinkles the pants.

- What time is it?

8-ish. 8:15.

I got word you were looking for me.

- Where were you?

- Personal matter. I've got an uncle in trouble.

- Any way I can help?

- No, no, it's all right. We're doing all we can.

Appreciate it though, thanks.

What's up?

- Captain Bennish could have used some sedation.

Please, make up a duplicate key to the drug chest.

We had to break into it.

I think it'd be better if we both had a key.

- Boy, you look beat. Did you get any sleep?

- No, every time I dropped off, another one of the men

was at the door.

- Keep it closed.

- No.

They've gotta be able to talk to me any time they need to.

- It's up to you.

Something wrong?

Something right?

- Dream.

- I didn't get ya?

- I just flashed on this dream I keep having.

- Well, as Caesar's wife said to Sigmund Freud,

"You tell me yours and I'll tell you mine."

- It isn't my dream.

- I didn't get you.

- I said, "It isn't my dream."

- What'd you rent it?

- A patient of mine, a colonel back from Nam,

he had this grotesque, recurring nightmare.

Something that happened to him in combat.

Ever since he told me about it,

I keep dreaming it.

- Jesus.

- Yeah, it's strange.

- "Weird" is the word.

I mean, that's carrying transference a little far, isn't it?

- It was my brother.

- The patient?

- Yes.

- Oh, my God.

Twin brother?

- No.

- Yeah, but still, that'd uh, that would explain it,

wouldn't it?

I mean, um, you're psychically attuned,

you're brothers, you're close.

- No, we're not.

- Must be.

- Fell, have you ever heard of Killer Kane?

- Buck Rogers?

- No, Killer Kane, the Marine.

- Oh, yeah, sure, uh, guerrilla warfare guy.

Killed 30-40 guys with his hands?

- More than that.

- What's the point?

- He's my brother.

- Bullshit.

- No, it's true.

- You're kidding?

- I wish I were.

- Ah-ha, and you two guys don't get along, huh?

What's the beef?

- He's a murderer.

- He's a Marine.

They drop him behind the enemy lines, he does his duty.

- Just forget it, okay?

- Are you sure you know what business you're in?

I mean, those recruiting-office sergeants

can be pretty sneaky from time to time.

Vincent, Vincent, Vincent.

Vincent.

Oh God I love.

Are you a friend of Jane Fonda?

- We're close.

You're kidding.

- I'm kidding.

- Drugs.

- What was that?

- So many doctors get hooked on drugs.

Oh, well.

Hey uh, how is your brother, by the way?

You know, I met him once over in Korea.

Kind of palled around together, as a matter of fact.

I like him.

I like him a hell of a lot.

- He's dead.

- Oh, holy Christ. Hey, I'm sorry.

I'm really sorry.

- It's all right.

Yes? Come in.

- Colonel Kane, could I see you for a second?

- Well listen, I gotta go, you guys.

I'll see you later, huh?

Listen, colonel, I hate you keep bringing you

problems, but I don't seem to be able to handle this one.

It's very important, sir.

- "To my darling, my dearest, my flaming secret love.

How I've hungered for this moment,

when I might rip away the mask and unburden

my aching, bleeding heart.

My sweetest, I saw you but an instant, a semi-instant,

yet I knew I was your slave.

Wondrous creature, I adore you.

You are sandalwood from Nineveh, truffles from the moon.

In my dreams, I am a madman.

Yes, I rip away your dress and then your bra,

and then your glasses, and,"

Groper, is this necessary?

- Look at the signature.

- "Major Mar,

Major Marvin Groper."

- Sir, I got phone call after phone call this morning

from broads who got letters just like this one.

- Where did you get this?

- Well, sir, some of the women, they uh--

- Women?

- Well they, they happened to come here today and--

- Happened?

- Well, sir, I asked them.

The ones with the nice voices and--

- Groper?

- They're ugly, sir! Ugly as sin.

And I think that the bastard who wrote all those letters

needs some kind of punishment and restriction, sir.

- Who wrote this one?

- Look at the envelope, sir. The address.

Sir, there's only one mind here who's this diabolical.

See that? It's made up to look like its been mimeo'd.

Like it's part of a mass commercial mailing, sir.

- "To, occupant."

- Oh, god.

Some of this stuff has got to stop, sir.

- Maybe so, Groper. Yes.

It's getting outta hand.

- Yes.

Maybe we do need a few restrictions.

Colonel.

The experience over the weekend--

Colonel.

He called police to report his rubber

duck was missing-- - Colonel, I'm in trouble.

I need help. Immediate help.

Take an enema, call me Tuesday.

Dr. Fell, you're wanted in surgery.

- I've been having this argument, a monster,

and I want you to settle it once and for all.

On.

I saw a robin--

- Some Shakespearean, hold this, please.

Some Shakespearean scholars, thank you.

Some Shakespearean scholars say that when Hamlet

is pretending to be crazy, he really is crazy, correct?

- That's right.

- Now other Shakespearean scholars say

that when Hamlet is pretend--

Other Shakespearean scholars say that when Hamlet

is pretending to be nuts, he really isn't nuts, it's an act.

Please, give me your opinion.

- I would like to hear yours first.

- Ah, terrific psychiatrist.

That's class.

You get the feeling

that you've been trapped in a carwash

for about three weeks?

- Pretty.

Why don't you go inoculate a fucking armadillo, Fell?

- No, really, I'm uh, I'm listening.

I'm terribly interested.

- Your interests are coextensive with Nero's ass

on Sunday mornings.

Heavy concept, Frankie.

Jesus.

- Now, listen.

Now, colonel, considering how Hamlet is acting,

is he really and truly crazy?

- Yes. - No.

- You're both wrong.

Now, think what happens.

First, the father dies, then his girl leaves him flat,

then there's an appearance by the father's ghost.

Bad enough, but then the ghost tells 'em he was murdered.

And by whom?

By Hamlet's uncle, who recently married Hamlet's mother.

Now, that by itself is a hell of a hang up,

because Hamlet liked his mother,

a lot.

- Well then we're agreed, Hamlet's insane.

- No, he's not.

He is pretending, but--

if Hamlet hadn't pretended to be crazy,

he really would have gone crazy.

Hmm?

You see, Hamlet isn't psycho.

He's hanging on the brink.

A little shove, a little teensy eensy little eensy push,

and the kid's gone, bananas, whacked out.

So his unconscious mind makes him do what keeps him sane,

namely acting like he's nuts.

See, because acting crazy, is a way to let off steam,

a way to get rid of your fucking aggressions,

a way to get rid of your fears and your terrors.

If I did what Hamlet does in this play,

they'd lock me up, they'd put me in prison.

They'd punish me, sure.

But him?

Prince Royal Garbage Mouth gets away with murder. And why?

Because nuts are not responsible.

Meantime, the crazier Hamlet acts,

the more he indulges himself, the healthier he gets.

- Yes. I think--

- I'm waiting.

- I think I agree with your theory.

- Yes! There!

You see?

You understand that now, you dumb stupid idiot?

From now on, we do the scene my way.

Come on, Sir Lawrence.

God bless your veins and your arteries, colonel.

Sir Lawrence, you don't know shit.

- Did he buy it?

- Did he buy it? Hell, I bought it.

Billy, I think there's something wrong with us.

- Uh, can you spare a cigarette?

It's cool.

- Listen, don't have a hemorrhage,

some people get so fucking excitable.

Give the man a Valium.

Groper, get off the line.

The Hamlet theory is correct.

Hello, Colonel Kane here. Get me Camp Pendelton.

Yes, quartermaster's office.

Thank you.

We'll need some supplies.

- What for?

- We're going to indulge the men.

- Just like the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel.

Would you care to venture a comment

on either the frog-man suit or the German Gestapo uniforms?

You'll pick the uniforms.

Sure, go ahead.

Oh, I see.

They want to play "Great Escape."

- And tunnels 1 and 2 are decoys.

- Jesus.

- Some weather we are having.

- Jesus.

- You are out of uniform.

- Jesus.

- Out. Take a hike.

Out.

And tell your stupid agent

never to waste any more of my time.

You first class...

Can you imagine? Look at that.

Here I am casting "Julius Caesar,"

and what do they send me?

A dog that lisps.

Spinell, out. Take a hike.

- Your turf.

- You too, Nammack. Out, get out here, get lost.

- Gimme a reason. One good reason.

- Colonel, do me a favor, please.

Explain to this moron here that in none of the plays

of Shakespeare can there be a part for Superman.

- There could be, the way I explained it.

- The way you explained, Jesus.

You know what he wants? You wanna hear?

When the conspirators draw their knives,

he wants to rescue Julius Caesar.

Ready, swoop down like a rocket, pick him up,

and then go hurdling mighty temples

in one single, incredible bound.

Jesus, Nammack, are you crazy?

- Gentlemen, who put the flies in my paint can?

- Bananas.

Krebs. Krebs, please.

Starlet, look at this.

Did you bring any photographs, honey?

Jesus.

Go talk to your brother.

I think he has the falling sickness.

Blue Cross, Blue Shield, whatcha call it.

Put your head up.

- I'm going to the roof.

- Let go of my stethoscope, please.

Will these people be staying for dinner?

The cook is fixing Mexican, he wants to know how many.

I gotta handle this. The man just threw up.

I gotta go check on him.

Dr. Fromme, can I have a word with you, please?

- She bit me.

I told her she was lousy, and she bit me.

Maybe I oughta use penguins.

You hear that, dammit? You can be replaced.

- The atoms in water have manners.

- Look. There he is.

Our heavenly shrink.

You're ours, and ours alone, and no one else's.

Hip, hip--

Hurray!

Colonel, what are you holding?

Colonel, what are you holding?

Colonel, what are you--

- Jesus, Jesus.

- Colonel, why do I have to wear this?

- What?

- I said why do I have to wear this?

- It's psychodrama, major.

Role playing, a standard tool for therapy.

The inmates are playing the role of Allied prisoners of war,

attempting to tunnel their way to freedom.

We are their captors.

- Bullshit! We're their prisoners.

A bunch of yellow-bellied goof-offs out there having a ball.

Why should I help their fun? I'm not a psychiatrist.

It's a goddamn chicken shit, crazy idea!

- Jesus. Jesus Christ, man.

Why don't you love somebody just a little?

Why don't you help somebody? Help them.

Help, for the love of Christ.

You green-soaked, caterpillar-torturing bastard!

You're gonna wear that uniform!

Sleep in it, bathe in it!

Try to take it off, and you'll die in it!

Is that clear?

- I claim this swamp for Poland.

- Major Groper, please get out of here.

- Immediately. And keep that uniform clean.

The man has a flag fetish.

Now then, Major Strasser,

tomorrow night we're switching roles.

You'll be the inmates, and we'll be the guards.

Here, study your part for tomorrow night's interrogation.

Notice, incidentally, that you crack on page three.

- Yes.

- Who are you?

Who are you?

You're too human to be human.

I don't know.

Maybe you're P.T. Barnum.

P.T. Barnum slaughtered lambs.

He'd put up a cage at side shows,

and he stuck in a panther and a lamb together.

And there was never any trouble.

Huddy, the public just went lollipops.

Look it, a panther and a lamb,

and they don't even argue.

They don't even discuss.

But, Hud, what the public never knew,

was that it was never the same lamb.

That fucking panther ate a lamb every single day

at intermission for 300 days,

and then they shot him for asking for mint sauce.

Animals are innocent.

Why should they suffer?

Why should children suffer?

Will you tell me that?

Why should any baby have to suffer and die?

- Why should men?

- Oh, come on, now.

Don't try that one on me.

You've got answers for it.

Like, pain makes people noble.

And how could man be more than a talking, tennis-playing

panda bear if it weren't at least for the possibility

of suffering?

But what about animals, Hud?

Does pain make turkeys noble?

Why is all of creation based on dog eat dog,

and the little fish are eaten by the big fish?

Animals screaming in pain.

All of creation an open wound, a fucking slaughterhouse!

- We've talked about that.

- Not enough!

- We said original sin might be the cause.

- Then, why doesn't Foot just come down and tell us?

Is Foot running short of tablets of stone?

My Uncle Eddie owns a quarry.

I'll get 'em for ya, wholesale.

- You're asking for miracles.

- I'm asking Foot to either shit or get off the pot.

Diuretic strange gods have been waiting in line.

- Maybe God can't interfere in our affairs.

- So I noticed.

- Maybe he can't, because to do so would spoil his plan

for the future.

Some evolution of man and the world,

so unthinkably beautiful that it's worth all the pain

of every suffering thing that ever lived.

- I say it's spinach, and to hell with it.

- You're convinced that God is dead

because there's evil in the world.

- Correct.

- Then, why don't you think he's alive

because of the goodness in the world?

- What goodness?

- Everywhere, in man.

- You're committable.

- If we're nothing but atoms, molecular structures

no different in kind from this desk or that pen,

then we ought to always be rushing, irresistibly, blindly,

towards serving our own selfish ends.

So how is it that there is love in this world?

I mean, love as a God might love.

And a man will give his life for another.

- Never happened.

- Of course, it happened.

- Give me one example.

- It happens all the time.

- Name one example!

- A soldier throws himself on top of a live grenade

to prevent the other men in his squad from being hit.

- That's reflex action.

- A shipwreck survivor in the middle of an ocean

finds out that he has typhoid

and deliberately goes over the side of the lifeboat

to keep the others in the boat from contracting the disease.

Now, what do you call that, reflex action?

- No, I call that suicide.

- Suicide and giving up your life are not the same.

- You're so dumb, you're adorable.

- The essence of suicide is despair.

- The essence of suicide is you don't collect the insurance.

Listen, who doesn't know but what all these examples

we keep on hearing about aren't bullshit?

Or don't have some basically bullshit selfish explanation?

- I know.

- I don't.

Now, give me one example, just one,

that you know of personally.

Personally, just one.

I thought as much.

Tomorrow's Sunday.

Take me to Mass.

Would Foot give a shit about what I'm wearing?

Is that Edgar Cayce?

- Shh.

- "If anyone enters by me, he will be saved.

The thief comes only to steal, to kill, and destroy.

But I have come that they may have life,

life in all its fullness.

As the father knows me, and I know the father,

in the same way I know my sheep, and they know me,

and I am willing to die for them.

I am the good shepherd.

The good shepherd gives his life for his sheep."

- Infinite goodness means creating a being

that you know in advance is going to complain.

- "To be or not to be."

- Thanks, I dug it.

If you die first, and there's life after death,

will you give me a sign?

- I'll try.

- You're terrific.

- Cutshaw behave himself?

- As usual. Where're you going?

- The beach.

The diner down there serves great Eggs Benedict.

Do you like 'em?

- Yeah, it's my favorite food.

- Why don't you come along?

- No, thanks. I, I feel tired.

I think I'm gonna lie down for awhile. Excuse me.

- Sure.

I was hoping you'd come along, pick up the check.

Look out.

Goddammit!

- Is there any news from Earth? Oh, sorry.

Any letters?

- Your planet has demanded your return.

- Fuck that. Any packages?

When I was on Mars, my mother sent me a cheesecake

once a month.

She used to pack it in popcorn to keep it moist.

All that shit about canals on Mars is a myth.

Mars is drier than an armpit in hell.

- Yes, I know.

- Not around here, though. Here it's nice.

Okay, I'm sealing off my mind.

- Colonel Kane.

- Yes?

- New inmate, sir.

He got in about half an hour ago.

I put him in your office.

I didn't think you'd want him mixing with the others

until you, well, sort of explain things to him.

He seems pretty straight to me, sir.

Just combat fatigue, from the look of him.

- Thanks, Krebs. I'll see him in a minute.

Hey pal.

- Right, sir.

You got a light?

Yeah, sure, keep 'em.

What's the get up for? Halloween?

- Jesus.

Killer Kane.

Colonel?

Colonel, it's me, Gilman.

Come on, let's go.

Hey, you got a Charlie.

- Just a boy.

- Forget about it, sir. Let's get out of here.

- I cut off his head with a wire,

and he kept on talking.

- What're you holding?

What's that in your--

Jesus!

- Christ, this is obviously a mistake, sir.

Some computer must've goofed.

It puts you down as in charge of a stateside asylum.

Your MOS is psychiatrist, serial number's wrong.

Must be another Colonel Kane.

There must be another Colonel Kane.

There must be another Colonel Kane.

There must be another.

Vincent!

No!

Tell me again about goodness in the world!

You lying, bloody, butchering bastard!

Don't touch me. Don't come near me.

That's your brother up there.

That's your bloody, green-soaked brother. That's Kane.

That's Killer Kane!

He'll cut your fucking head off with a wire!

I needed you.

- What happened?

- You fainted, don't you remember?

What do you remember?

- I don't know.

Nothing.

I was walking to my room.

- You remember the new inmate?

- New inmate?

- You don't remember him.

- What the hell are you talking about?

- Groper. Who was that?

- It,

it was Cutshaw, sir.

- When Kane got the orders,

he was commanding a Special Forces camp just south of DMZ.

By the time he got to the States,

we'd, we'd caught the mistake,

but by then it was clear he meant to go through with it.

We've been watching him.

We heard, uh, we heard stories about his cracking.

He seemed to be on a,

on the edge of a very serious breakdown,

and then, some computer dropped a stitch

and gave him a halfway out.

A way to find help without facing his illness.

A way to hide from himself.

But mostly, mostly, as a way to wash away all the blood.

To do penance for all that killing by curing.

At first, it was just a pretense, but,

on the way back from Vietnam,

it developed into something more.

His hatred of the Kane who killed became denial,

and also projection.

"Someone else must have done all the killing."

Then after a time that denial became so strong that it

totally obliterated Kane's identity.

He suppressed the Kane who was the killer

and became the better self that's in all of us, completely.

Except when he dreamed.

We were experimenting, you see.

He was on the inside, looking out.

An inmate functioning as a psychiatrist

and coming to bear on the problem

like nothing we'd ever seen before.

We hoped he'd come up with an answer or,

at least some new insight.

And I think he did.

I think the men have been responding to him.

But he suffered a setback today, and a bad one.

You see his, his only hope

of finding a cure for himself is,

is to wipe away the guilt by a saving act.

By curing the other inmates.

Or at least see some improvement.

But that takes time.

Time and your help.

Now you've seen my orders, but I want Kane

to play out the string.

You understand that?

Lieutenant Gilman?

- Yes, sir.

- I'd like you to try to convince the other inmates

that you were mistaken.

That shouldn't be too hard to sell around here.

Will you do that?

- Oh, yes, sir.

- Now, Groper, Krebs, Christian

and the others'll back you up, so will I.

- Colonel.

Let me get something straight.

You've been in charge here, all the time.

- That's right.

Kane is uh, Vincent Kane.

I'm Hudson.

I'm a psychiatrist.

Vincent is my patient.

You know when we, uh, when we were kids,

I used to make him laugh all the time.

I was, I was the clown, you know?

I've been trying to help him remember me,

but he won't do it.

He's my brother.

♪ The music plays and makes you feel ♪

♪ And you keep dancing in the night ♪

♪ A fantasy, and yet it's real ♪

♪ And you keep dancing in the night ♪

♪ It may seem wrong, it may seem right ♪

Hey!

♪ And you keep dancing in the night ♪

♪ Sometimes you're bad ♪

I say, let's get out.

♪ Sometimes you try ♪

♪ But you keep dancing in the night ♪

- Hey, waitress.

Uh, could I have a runway for the young lady,

and one more scotch?

- Sir, you've got five right there in front of you.

- I wanted six.

Quiet.

- That's him. I know that's him.

- You're demented.

- Up yours. I've seen his picture in the paper.

- You don't read the papers, Stanley.

You're an illiterate.

- Then TV, you asshole.

Look at him. Look at his face.

That's the astronaut, the one that lost his marbles.

- Aw, come on, man.

What would he be doin' in a joint like this?

- Well now, how the fuck do I know?

Dude, they have all types of those Army wackos

stashed up in that Biltmore dump.

Well, he could be one of them.

I don't know.

But that's him.

Oh?

- I swear it. I'm positive.

- Well, how positive is positive, Stanley?

- You wanna bet?

- Yeah, how much?

- Just a beer,

and a shot in the mouth.

♪ There's nothing wrong, you see ♪

- Lead on.

I think he's kinda cute.

♪ Here in the night ♪

- I told you not to smoke!

- Hey, Steve, two beers, two bourbon rocks.

♪ The music plays, it plays in me ♪

♪ Dancing in the night ♪

- Do you desire an audience?

What's your name, dude?

- Rumpelstiltskin.

- Wise ass.

- A literate.

- Your name?

- My maiden name, or married?

Too literate.

- Waitress.

- See? Marines.

U-S-M-C.

- Unbridled Sex for the Masters Club.

Is it something I said?

- If I lose this bet, Richard,

I'm going to punch him in the mouth.

- One more scotch and two spittoons, love.

Fill 'em with caterpillar's blood.

My friends are very rich.

Hey, hey, cut that out!

Oh, god.

- You mean this?

- Guys get away.

You guys, get away!

- Looks good. - Hey!

- It's him.

It's really him.

I got his dog tags, Richard.

It's him, the big shit astronaut.

- My god.

- Hey, everybody. Guess what we got here.

A damned celebrity.

A chicken, wigged-out astronaut.

This here is Captain Billy Cutshaw, brothers and sisters.

- Oh, my god.

Now, I propose--

Let him have it, Stanley!

- I propose that we make him an honorary member of our club.

Now, that's friendly.

Would you like to join our club?

- Fuck you.

- Okay. Don't--

- Fuck you.

- Now, this is what I learned in the Boy Scouts.

- Hello? Could you help me, please?

Do you have a listing for some kind of an asylum?

Yeah, um, could you maybe invite Charlie Price

and Dick Cooey and uh, Jennifer and,

um, listen, I'm sorry, um,

do you have a number for some kind of an asylum

for Marines or something?

- First, we must baptize the chicken mother.

Richard, you may have the honors.

- Thank you, Stanley.

- Let's have the countdown.

Ten,

nine,

eight,

seven,

six,

five,

four,

three,

two,

one.

- Splash down!

Everything A-okay there, spaceman?

- Could you polish these chains a little?

They're a little cruddy.

They're gettin' heavy again.

- Welcome to the club.

- Colonel Kane.

No, I'm on.

Where are you located?

six,

five,

four,

three,

two,

one,

blast off!

- Again, again! Again. - Again, again.

Ten,

nine,

eight,

seven.

- Cutshaw.

- Been meeting your family.

I think it's his keeper.

- I think we got us a new beach ball.

- Come on.

- That's my beach ball, man. Put it down.

- Yeah, you tell him, Stan.

Ooh, better call the MPs.

- Nah, the SPs, it's the shit patrol, man.

- Here's your goodness in man.

- Did you talk?

I think this beach ball here just said somethin'.

Did you talk?

Let go of him, please.

- You, let go of my beach ball.

- Please, let us go.

- Pretty please.

- Pretty please?

Hmm?

- Now say, "Marines are chicken."

Come on, say it.

- Marines--

- Let's finish it.

- Marines are chicken.

- Yeah, they sure as hell are.

Pathetic, man.

- Wait, wait, just two more.

Now say, "Marines all suck."

Well, come on.

You gonna say it and get outta here?

Well, come on, now. Say it.

Say, "Marines all suck."

And you can go.

- Marines...

- Come on, let's finish it.

- Marines,

Marines

all suck.

Jesus Christ.

- Let's play beach ball!

U,

S,

M,

C!

U,

S,

M,

C!

U,

S-- Ah, it's a great life,

isn't it? - M,

C!

U-S-M-C!

The Marines have landed.

You want a little drink, moon boy? Huh?

Richard, get me a beer.

Comin' up.

Uh-oh, here comes Stanley.

Guess he doesn't like Coors.

Man's got no taste.

Fucking slob.

Now clean up the mess.

- Uh-uh.

I'm on vacation.

- Now lick it.

Lick it.

Lick it.

- Hey, cut that out!

Lick it. And I'll let you both go.

You and your friend.

Now, lick it.

Lick it.

Jesus H. Christ.

- The chicken-shit turd. He did it.

- Scum.

- That's for disgracing the fucking uniform.

- You bastards!

You sons of bitches!

- Just get him down.

Get him down on the floor. I got a present for him, huh?

Whoa, that's right.

Keep him down.

Hey, nasty.

- Come on. - Hold the bastard steady.

Oh, you son of bitch, make me famous.

Hold him down, will ya?

You son of a bitch!

- How you doing, Richard?

This guy's a fighter.

Hold on, now. And here we go.

- I think he wants some--

Now hold the son of a bitch down, will ya?

Hold him down.

- What the fuck?

- You son of a--

- Come on, Colonel.

- Look, you said yourself he was provoked.

- Yeah, but he also--

- Now goddammit, he stays!

- We're taking him in, sir.

Sorry, but we are.

Now, you can either produce him

or we'll go find him ourselves.

Come on, Frank.

- Better hold it right there, pal.

- Colonel?

Colonel Kane, sir.

- Has anybody told Ann?

- Ann?

- My wife.

No. It's all right.

Where's Gilman?

- He's downstairs, sir.

- Is he all right?

- Yes, sir.

He's fine, sir.

- Cutshaw?

- Yes, sir.

- Why won't you go to the moon?

Because I'm afraid.

- Afraid?

- That's right, sir.

See the stars.

So cold.

So far.

And so very lonely.

Oh, so lonely.

All that space.

Just empty space.

And so far from home.

I've circled round and round this house.

Orbit after orbit.

And sometimes I'd wonder

what it would be like

never to stop.

And circle alone up there, forever.

And what if I got there?

Got to the moon,

and couldn't get back?

Sure, everyone dies,

but I'm afraid to die alone,

so far from home.

And if there's no God,

then that's really,

really, alone.

- Not much time.

Time.

No time.

But I'll show you.

I'll show you God exists.

- That's right, sir.

- One example.

And the others,

maybe

help.

Try to cure.

Try to cure them, too.

I don't know.

No other way now.

Time.

No time.

Had to try

shock,

shock treatment.

- What was that, sir?

- Tired.

Tired.

Oh, God.

I had enough.

- Oh, my god.

Oh, my god!

- Okay, sir.

He's on his way.

Can we talk to the other one?

This guy is an asshole.

Hey, what the hell is going on?

Why the cops?

It's all right. It's all right.

Just go back to bed.

- Where's Cutshaw?

- Krebs, look in the dorm, will you please?

Christian, uh, go up--

- Oh, my god.

- He's dead.

He gave up his life.

- Major?

If you die first, and there's life after death,

will you give me a sign?

Captain Cutshaw, I am taking my life

in the hope that my death may provide a shock

that has curative value.

In any case, you now have your one example.

If ever I have injured you, I am sorry.

I have been fond of you.

I know some day I will see you again.

Vincent Kane.

- Sure heard some stories about this place, sir.

Heard they had a doctor that was really a killer.

- He was a lamb.

Okay.

Hey, hold it. Hold it.

Where did this Saint Christopher medal come from?