Last Flag Flying Page #6

---

Uh, no, but... close. Why?

So, you're the one

they call the Mullah?

The what?

Mullah?

I'm...

waiting for a bus to Richmond,

minding my business,

- reading the Scriptures.

- The Bible.

Checking out the competition?

Who are you two,

and what do you want from me?

That depends.

We're from Homeland Security.

What?!

Some rig, huh?

Hold it right there.

It used to mean something,

you know?

Esprit de corps.

A unity.

Some... well-earned pride

and some goddamn common sense.

I don't even know

what it means anymore.

You know what? F*** them.

- Yeah. F*** 'em!

- F*** 'em all.

F*** 'em all, is right.

I spent the best years of

my life defending this country.

Your best years are

still ahead of you, Sal.

- Oh, f*** off.

- No, it's true.

Look at me, Doc, all right?

My future is behind me.

I got a scrambled brain held

together with a steel plate.

They look at me and what do

they see? A f***in' terrorist.

An apology would have been nice.

Yeah. They're sorry, all right.

They're sorry

they didn't smoke our asses.

Don't get it.

Doc.

Aw, sh*t.

What, did you forget

your toothbrush?

Jesus.

I had to call my wife...

from the police station.

You hear me?

From the police station!

All right.

What happened?

After they ID'd me as

the Reverend Richard Mueller...

found that

I am not a Muslim radical,

nor am I a mullah.

Mullah the Mauler! Huh?

Oh, f***, it's all over,

isn't it?

The country's f***ed.

- Was Ruth upset?

- Oh, she was very upset.

Wanted me to come home

right away,

but I said

no, no, no, no, no, honey.

There are times that demand

that even old men

should become threats.

F***in' A right. It's like

during the pinko scare...

I thought I was talking.

Yeah. You were.

I told my wife

I am not coming home!

Not until we're done here.

Where's your boy?

They got him again.

Tomorrow we gonna get him back.

And then we're

gonna take him home.

Ten-hut!

Gentlemen, good morning.

So, Colonel

whatever your name is,

where's Larry?

Wilits. It's Colonel Wilits.

- Oh.

- I've been briefed

on yesterday's snafu.

Completely ridiculous.

Apparently, the U-Haul agent

went off the deep end.

But there it is,

and what's done is done.

I hope that, given

further time for reflection,

you can see that Arlington

is a resting place

that should not be refused

in anger.

There lie heroes, sir.

The details

of the lance corporal's death

are what they are,

but make no mistake,

his death was heroic.

He was in a foreign

and hostile land

doing the decent thing.

He deserves to lie beneath

the sacred soil of Arlington.

He would want that-- and I urge

you to choose that for him.

Thank you.

I'm going to take my son home

and bury him in New Hampshire.

And not in his uniform--

I'm gonna bury him

in his graduation suit.

As you wish.

Your government will fly

the coffin, at no cost to you,

to Portsmouth, and to a funeral

director of your choosing.

No. We're taking him

with us today.

With all due respect, sir,

you're cutting off your nose

to spite your face.

Hey. Colonel.

Did you look at these faces?

They've already been spited,

so why should we give a f***

about your opinions?

With all due respect.

We're gonna take the train.

Okay. I'll make

the arrangements.

Lance Corporal Washington here

will be going with you.

This is Wilits.

- What?

- I need you to make some things happen ASAP.

- Hey. Hey, hey, hey. Wilits.

- Stand by.

We don't need no babysitter.

I wasn't implying that you did.

Washington is

on TDY escort duty.

You don't want him,

he goes right back to Baghdad.

Guys?

We could use the help.

Does he pull per diem?

Of course.

Then fall in, Washington.

But he takes orders from us.

He takes his orders... from me.

But he will accommodate you

in any reasonable way you ask,

because I just ordered him to.

Is that clear?

Very clear.

Colonel.

Boy...

you are a f***in' force

of nature, huh?

Man, I would've loved

to run into you in the field

in my younger days.

You really think so?

Oh, yeah.

'Cause one of us

would have been fragged.

And the other

would've gone to the brig.

Halt.

Down.

Ready.

Face.

I don't give a f***

what they say.

- You understand me?

- Yes, sir.

The lance corporal is ours.

He's a marine

until he goes into the ground,

and remains a marine the period

of time he's underground

plus 100 years, is that clear?

- Yes, sir.

- I will not have

three over-the-hill veterans

pissing on my corps.

- Understood?

- Yes, sir!

You're a marine-- your mission

is to see your brother home.

You're in charge, and when

in charge, you take charge!

- Understood?!

- Yes, sir!

There'll be a Mortuary Affairs

detail every step of the way.

You will protect the dignity

of that dead marine,

and you will see to it

that he is buried with honors

in his uniform,

not some cocksucking,

motherfucking p*ssy

civilian graduation suit!

- Clear?!

- Yes, sir!

And don't let that Sal fucktard

outflank you.

He's old but he's dangerous.

Do not let that happen.

- Kill him first.

- Sir?

- That is not an order.

- Yes, sir!

And just because that

crippled preacher reminds you

of your father, don't trust him.

I never knew my father, sir.

Lance Corporal, do you have

some kind of personal problem?

No, sir.

- Then get on it!

- Yes, sir!

Ready... hut!

Ready... face!

Forward march!

Well, Washington says

you served.

- Yeah. Army.

- Oh, really? Yeah? Yeah.

Did you see some sh*t?

Yeah, I was there

the first time. Gulf War.

Right, right.

You came back.

Yes. Yeah,

and I'm not pissing blood.

My babies are all okay.

Hey, that's good.

- John Redman.

- Larry Sheppard.

Don't worry, I'll...

I'll look after your boy.

Thank you.

Whenever you're ready.

Okay.

Hey, at ease, Washington. Huh?

I got a question for you.

When did you get so old, hmm?

I think it was

over the last 30 years.

Same as you.

Me? No.

Categorically deny it.

Deny it all you want.

It will not stop the clock,

nor will it turn back time.

So, what do you think

of that grunt, Washington, huh?

- What about him?

- I don't know.

He don't say much.

Him and his Baghdad boil--

Boy, that's

some gnarly sh*t, right?

Well, what do you want

to know about him?

I don't want

to know nothin' about him.

Sounds like he's an individual

who's heavy

on your mind, though.

Ain't nothin' heavy on my mind.

Just wondering.

Then go back and talk to him,

if he's such a mystery to you.

Everything is a mystery to me.

Except you.

Please.

I think I'll go back

and talk to him.

Oh, I'm sure he'll enjoy that.

Tell him he should

come up here and sit with us.

All right.

I'll extend an invitation.

There we go.

This is bleak, man.

- You're welcome.

- What for?

What for?

Are you on a train in Baghdad?

No, you are not.

I guess not.

Yeah, TDY.

Sometimes it's fun.

- Sometimes it's a b*tch.

- No. I don't mind.

He was my best friend.

Yeah, you didn't, uh, what,

hang with the brothers?

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes