Delta Farce Page #2
Well, I'll tell you what, fat body,
this weekend,
I own your ass!
Son of a b*tch.
If there was ever a worse
excuse for a soldier,
I'd like to meet him.
Hey, y'all.
I got Funyuns, beer, and Barely Legal.
Who wants what?
Well, hey, there, Sarge.
Snap into a Slim Jim.
Well, this looks like a little slice of heaven.
Can they do this to us?
It's the army, man.
They can do whatever they want.
Welcome to Fort Davis, ladies.
I want another one! Come on! One more!
Up, up, up! Down, up!
All right, you're all mine now.
You ready, Freddy?
Oh, there you go. How about that? Huh?
You like that?
- Get back here!
- What are you doing?
Watch out! Watch out!
Get up there!
Take it like a man!
Get out of here!
You gotta stay clear...
- Come on, Everett. Let me hold it.
- No, no. It's mine.
Look out!
Yeah!
This is a little harder than I thought.
But I guess it's the price you pay
to be a trained government killer.
I didn't think they could activate us.
I mean, if I wanted to get my ass kicked,
I'd have stayed home with Connie.
a samurai-type like myself.
Accept the pain.
It's cleansing.
Plus, the weekend's almost over.
One more day and we're gone.
Besides, how much worse could it get?
Rise and shine, ladies!
Where the hell is that other fat turd?
Hey, speaking of turds,
I just left one in there
for the Guinness Book.
Stand at attention, soldier!
Congratulations, gentlemen.
We just got our orders.
We're going to paradise,
the land of sand and sun.
- Daytona Beach?
- Fallujah, Iraq, numb nuts!
Sarge, excuse me.
Far be it for me to stand in the way
of the war on terror,
but we're supposed to go home tomorrow.
I mean, seriously, we only do this
one weekend a month.
- Yeah, and on Mondays, I cut the grass.
- Wrong, sunshine!
You will be the tip of the spear
Uncle Sam uses to shove
up some insurgent's ass!
Sarge, now that's downright unsanitary.
You know, I read somewhere that them
carpet-fliers don't even use toilet paper.
Can it, dipshit!
And don't worry,
you won't be in the rear with the gear.
I plan on volunteering us
for every dangerous assignment there is!
Now, I want every one of you
to look to the man on your right!
Now, look to the man on your left,
'cause your life is in his hands.
Sh*t!
Fallujah. No, it's not in Louisiana.
- It's in Iraq.
- Why are they sending you to Iraq?
- 'Cause I'm going to war!
- War?
- Well, I can't help it.
- Who's gonna mow the grass?
Well, I don't know who's
gonna mow the grass.
God damn it, Bill!
Five hundred dollars?
Damn. Does she have four tits?
Well, how about a military discount?
Hello? Hello?
- Hey, what unit you with?
- 101st Airborne.
Screaming Eagles. You?
What's up, y'all? How'd Connie take it?
Let me just put it this way.
I'll be safer in Iraq.
Ten hut!
All right, you maggots,
we got a long road ahead of us,
and it won't be easy.
But it's my job as your
sergeant to lead the way.
Gee, thanks, Sarge.
I know I'll feel safer standing
directly behind you
when the bullets start flying.
Can that sh*t!
Now, Larry,
I'm appointing you acting squad leader.
Don't get too excited.
You beat out a mongoloid and a candy-ass.
He called you a candy-ass.
Gee, thanks, Sarge.
You know, I learned a lot about leadership
when I was secretary
of the Midgeville Gun Club.
Both those shootings
were ruled accidental.
Keep your hands to yourself!
It's don't ask and don't tell
in this man's army.
Now, get your candy-asses on that plane.
Did you hear what I said?
I gave you an order.
You said candy-asses. I'm a mongoloid, sir!
Get your ass on that plane!
Candy-ass.
Oh, sure.
Killing a man
with your bare hands is real easy.
Aside from the assorted
choke holds and head yanks,
you deliver a hand-spear to a man's temple,
Adam's apple, kidneys, armpits,
solar plexus, testicles,
or coccyx, that's the little
bone down by your back...
That's real informative, Everett,
but come on, I'm trying
to get some sleep here.
Of course, all that pales in comparison
to the heart-punch.
It's a strong man's attack,
a sharp blow delivered right to the heart.
Chuck Norris used it once
on the set of Walker, Texas Ranger
to kill some smart-ass intern.
Talk about your hush-money.
All right.
All right. That's it.
Let's hit it.
I don't think the flight attendant
turned off the fasten seatbelt sign.
Look, y'all, if I'm gonna die tomorrow,
I want to get a good night's sleep.
My Uncle Dave died in his sleep.
That's a peaceful way to go.
Of course, all his friends died
screaming from the back seat
trying to wake him up.
It was a mess.
Good night, Everett!
- Good night, Larry.
- Good night, Larry.
Who farted?
Severe weather alert until 0600 hours.
With a possible...
I'm losing all pressure
Hydraulic pressure down
in the rear stabilizer.
Damn it!
- Oh, this is bad.
- Losing altitude.
We're overloaded.
Get ready to dump the gear.
What the...
Hey! Wait a minute!
Come on!
Hey! Wait a minute!
No!
I'm gonna kill you miserable pissants!
Did you hear something?
That was weird.
For a minute there,
I thought we were goners.
What are we gonna do
about the gear we dumped?
You fill out the paperwork,
and then it's the Army's problem.
Hey, you like meatloaf?
They got a killer meatloaf in Ramstein.
- Yeah?
- Oh, yeah.
Where the hell?
Oh, son of a b*tch.
So, this is it, Iraq,
jewel of the Middle East,
land of the Hammurabis.
Iraq? Oh, damn!
Damn! Hey, we're in... Hey!
We're in Iraq! Damn!
Get up! Hey!
Bill, we're in...
What in the name of Siegfried and Roy
are you fellas doing?
Don't ask.
Don't tell.
We're in Iraq!
We're in Iraq!
- All right, now, Larry, calm down.
- Be careful, Everett.
There's a lot of gear scattered around.
Now, listen to me, Larry.
Pull yourself together.
Now, we're in a hot zone.
It's time to take it up a notch.
Shot.
Leave it to Everett
to break the only working radio we got.
They drop us in Iraq,
they don't even wake us up.
What the hell are we supposed to do now?
I guarantee you this was Kilgore's idea.
All right, let's calm down.
Let's just regroup while we're here.
Last thing we need to do is panic.
Man down! Man down!
Man down! There's a man down!
Sarge?
I think he's dead, y'all.
K.I.A., man! K.I.A.!
Oh, man.
This is gonna be a lawsuit.
Well,
I guess we ought to say a few words.
Bill?
Me? You were closer to him than I was.
Well,
all right.
Lord,
we ask that you be with Sergeant Kilgore.
Sure, he was a mean bastard, incapable
of establishing normal relationships
with any other human being, and...
Larry.
But, Lord...
- Everett!
- Everett!
What the hell are you doing?
When we run out of water,
we're gonna have to drink our own urine.
Desert warfare 101, man!
Everett, now's not the time
to be talking about bodily functions.
We're talking to the Lord here!
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"Delta Farce" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 26 Dec. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/delta_farce_6694>.
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