"Misery" - William Goldman (script); Stephen King (novel) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UmH1MPe1d0Y Annie Wilkes: It's the swearing, Paul. It has no nobility. Paul Sheldon: These are slum kids, I was a slum kid. Everybody talks like that. Annie Wilkes: THEY DO NOT! At the feedstore do I say, "Oh, now Wally, give me a bag of that F-in' pig feed, and a pound of that bitchly cow corn"? At the bank do I say, "Oh, Mrs. Malenger, here is one big bastard of a check, now give me some of your Christ-ing money!" THERE, LOOK THERE, NOW SEE WHAT YOU MADE ME DO! This scene gives us a hint about Annie's true colors. It also makes believable one of her most awesome quirky traits: she only uses bland expressions (like "dirty bird" or "cockadoodie")every time she tries to swear after this scene.

GET SHORTY, dir: Barry Sonnenfeld, w: Scott Frank (1995) KEITEL (as himself, uncredited): Fuck you, fuckball. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I6l4uUMg7iU One of the best gags in the film. What better way to sum up all the double and triple crosses, not to mention the daffy Hollywood yoyo's who tried to reign in the world of Ray Bones and Chili Palmer...

My Cousin Vinny (1992) written by: Dale Launer [Vinny is the lawyer, but Stan thinks he is there to sodomize him] Vinny Gambini: Look, it's either me or them. You're gettin' fucked one way or the other. [Stan tries to get up] Vinny Gambini: Hey, relax, I'm gonna help you. Stan: Gee thanks. Vinny Gambini: Excuse me, I think a modicum of gratitude would not be out of line here. Stan: You think I should be grateful? Vinny Gambini: Yeah, it's your ass, not mine. I think you should be grateful. I think you should be down on your fuckin' knees. Stan: I didn't know it was such an honor to get a visit from you. Vinny Gambini: I'm doing a favor, you know. You're gettin' me for nothing, you little fuck! Stan: That's one hell of an ego you got. Vinny Gambini: What the fuck is your problem? I did not come down here just to get jerked off. Stan: I'm not jerking you off. I'm not doing anything. Vinny Gambini: That's it. You're on your own. I'll just take care of Sleeping Beauty. [Wakes up Bill] Bill: Vinny. Vinny bag o' donuts. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=imgD7T7Tn1E Not only this movie great, but Joe Pesci is one of the greatest angry-swearing actors ever (see: Goodfellas, Casino, etc...). This scene is great because both think one thing and the miscommunication only further angers the other.

Nobody can drop the c-bomb quite like Richard E Grant in Brice Dickinson's classic Withnail & I. The relief of not actually being murdered by the local poacher is drowned out by his indignity of being terrified by his bumbling and flamboyant uncle. Great scene, even though the rest of the movie has enough material for this weeks subject in itself. Withnail: i heard a noise. I: there is nothing get to bed. what was that? Withnail: listen listen I: probably just foxes. perhaps its the farmer Withnail: at two in the morning? it's the killer. he's come to kill us. it's all your fault, you've even given him the fucking gun. I've got to get in. He's trying to get in. I: He can't, he'll go away. He's going away. Withnail: He's getting in thorough the window. He's sharpening the fucking knife I: where's the matches? Withnail: in the kitchen. I: alright. we'll have to tackle with him. you stay in bed and pretend to be asleep. when he goes for you i'll jump on his back. Withnail: no no, it'll be too late by then, i'll be knifed. we'll have to try and make friends with him. He's going to your room. it's you he wants. offer him yourself! we mean no harm. Monty: oh my boys, my boys. I: monty! monty monty! Withnail: monty you terrible cunt. what are you doing prowling round in the middle of the fucking night?

From a transcript, Repo Man (1984): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LtLXIMA69ls When this was being prepared for TV, instead of having any profane dialogue cut or blanked out, Alex Cox decided to dub the obscenities with ridiculous sounding substitutes (i.e Motherfucker->Melon Farmer; Fuck You->Flip You, etc....), here in italics. Music by the Plugz. Otto and Bud driving down a waterway BUD There's going to be some bad shit (stuff) coming down one of these days kid. OTTO Oh yeah? Where you going to be? On the moon? BUD Ung Uh, I'm going to be right here heading north at a hundred and ten per. OTTO In this junker? The Rodriguez brothers pull up along side of them in a red convertible with black fuzzy dice hanging from the rear view mirror. Latino music plays on the radio. OTTO Cool car. BUD Uh Oh! The Rodriguez brothers. Lagarto flips them off OTTO Motherfucker just flipped you off. BUD Roll the window down. Roll the window down. BUD A donde vas, pendejo? LAGARTO A chingas tu esposa! OTTO Watch it mother fucker. (Girlfriend? watch it melonfarmer!) LAGARTO Hey fuck you pussy punk. (flip you, you punk.) OTTO Holy shit. NAPOLEON Want me to take them? OTTO Wo! Hey! They chase each other and end up sliding out in a huge puddle. In one shot during the chase, Lagarto is missing from the passenger's seat. BUD God damn dipshit Rodriguez gypsy dildo punks. I'll get your ass! (dang blamed dumb suck Rodriguez gypsy devil punks. I'll get your can!) OTTO HAHAHA WOW! That was intense. BUD Repo man's always intense. Come on let's go get a drink. OTTO Gee bud. You never told me it was going to be like this man. Cops and robbers. Hahahahah. Real live car chases. Hahahahah.

oh jeez! As someone who has a penchant for cussing and appreciates creativity with various cuss words, I have a so so many favorite scenes so this will be tough... I'll start with Coen Bros - Big Lebowski. This movie has them everywhere, but this scene is, well, classic because of what he says in his response about not cussing so much. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=efZQhYu1E5s (The Dude meets The Stranger) He looks back at the Dude. THE STRANGER I like your style, Dude. THE DUDE LOOKS UP, ABSENTLY: DUDE Well I like your style too, man. Got a whole cowboy thing goin'. THE STRANGER Thankie. . . Just one thing, Dude. D'ya have to use s'many cuss words? The Dude looks at The Stranger as if just now noticing how out of place the cowpoke is. DUDE The fuck are you talking about? The Stranger chuckles indulgently and pushes off from the bar. THE STRANGER Okay, have it your way. --- Planes, Trains, and Automobiles http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z5hVMFjDAA8 Steve Martin asking for a fucking rental car right fucking now! **when i googled the script, an old post of yours came up! http://gointothestory.blcklst.com/2012/11/script-reading-analysis-planes-trains-automobiles.html I can't find the script... and honestly, I wonder if that part was scripted :) -- and just for shock value because of who it is (actor), who he's talking to (badass Asian gang), and their reactions to what the fuck he just said (audacity)... Tom Cruise as Les Grossman in Tropic Thunder http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QcAQzcjc1h0 In the script I found, this part wasn't there... it was only Rick Peck (Matt McConaughney).

Ah....so many to chose from. Despina, I did think of Planes and the scene with Steve Martin - what a great set-up and pay-off on just a few lines of dialogue and the retort is superb and, Richard, Withnail is a veritable mine.....my second favourite line from the film is probably "Stop saying that Withnail, of course he's the fucking farmer!" But, I decided to go with a different classic....The Thing (1982). We all know the scene....Norris' head sprouts legs and goes for a walk....just the one line of dialogue to write... Palmer: You gotta be fucking kidding Here is the scene - bit more than just the one line of dialogue, but couldn't find a shorter one that wasn't recorded via a mobile phone! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=15hHUK1lIgk The beauty of this line is that, yeah you would naturally come out with a line like that when faced with something like that, but it also kind of signals the start of things going from bad to shit and, more importantly, drags the audience further into the film by getting someone to mutter exactly what we are all thinking....talk about empathy! And a bit of Bottin Trivia from IMDB: The flesh-flower that attacks Childs is actually an incredibly detailed effect. Its petals are 12 dog tongues complete with rows of canine teeth. Effects designer Rob Bottin dubbed it the "pissed-off cabbage". It was a close call between this and Garry shouting something about "spending all winter tied to this fucking couch" during the blood test scene (which is, to get into the spirit of this week's topic, a truly fucking awesome scene)....and the line is used as comic relief, dropping the tension in the audience.....but not for long!

http://youtu.be/DgjK2s1Cplg Finally checked and found the scene. Also, the greatest respect to Richard Griffiths.

FULL METAL JACKET (1987) screenplay by Stanley Kubrick, Michael Herr, and Gustav Hasford, based on the novel THE SHORT TIMERS by Hasford HARTMAN: I am Gunnery Sergeant Hartman, your senior drill instructor. From now on you will speak only when spoken to. And the first and last words out of your filthy sewers will be Sir, do you maggots understand that? RECRUITS: Sir, yes, Sir. HARTMAN: Bullshit, I can't hear you, sound off like you got a pair. RECRUITS: Sir, yes, Sir. HARTMAN: If you ladies leave my island, if you survive recruit traning, you will be a weapon. You will be a minister of death, praying for war. But until that day, you are pukes. You are the lowest form of life on Earth. You are not even human fucking beings. You are nothing but unorganized grabasstic pieces of amphibian shit. Because I am hard, you will not like me, but the more you hate me, the more you will learn. I am hard but I am fair. There is no racial bigotry here. I do not look down on niggers, kikes, wops or greasers. Here, you are all equally worthless. And my orders are to weed out all non-hackers who do not pack the gear to serve in my beloved Corps. Do you maggots understand that? RECRUITS: Sir, yes, Sir. HARTMAN: Bullshit, I can't hear you. RECRUITS: Sir, yes, Sir. HARTMAN: What is your name, scumbag? BROWN: Sir, Private Brown, Sir. HARTMAN: Bullshit, from now on you are Private Snowball. Do you like that name? BROWN: Sir, yes, Sir. HARTMAN: Well there is one thing that you won't like, Private Snowball. They do not serve fried chicken and watermelon on a daily basis in my mess hall. BROWN: Sir, yes, Sir. JOKER: Is that you, John Wayne? Is this me? HARTMAN: Who said that? Who the fuck said that? Who is the slimey little communist shit twinkle-toed cocksucker down here who just signed his own death warrant? Nobody, huh? There fairy fucking godmother said it. Out-fucking-standing. I will PT you all until you fucking die. I will PT you until your assholes are sucking buttermilk. Was it you, you scroungy little fuck, huh? COWBOY: Sir, no, Sir. HARTMAN: You little piece of shit, you look like a fucking worm. I bet it was you. COWBOY: Sir, no, Sir. JOKER: Sir, I said it, Sir. HARTMAN: Well, no shit. What have we got here? A fucking comedian, Private Joker. I admire your honesty. Hell, I like you. You can come over to my house and fuck my sister. You little scumbag. I got your name, I got your ass. You will not laugh, you will not cry, you will learn by the numbers. I will teach you. Now get up, get on your feet. You had best unfuck yourself or I will unscrew your head and shit down your neck. JOKER: Sir, yes, sir. HARTMAN: Private Joker, why did you join my beloved Corps? JOKER: Sir, to kill, Sir. HARTMAN: So you are a killer? JOKER: Sir, yes, Sir. HARTMAN: Let me see your war face. JOKER: Sir? HARTMAN: You got a war face? AAAAAH. That is a war face. Now let me see your war face. JOKER: AAAAAH. HARTMAN: Bullshit, you don't convince me. Let me see your real war face. JOKER: WAAAAAAH! HARTMAN: You don't scare me. Work on it. JOKER: Sir, yes, Sir. HARTMAN: What is your excuse? COWBOY: Sir, excuse for what, Sir? HARTMAN: I am asking the fucking questions here, Private. Do you understand? COWBOY: Sir, yes, Sir. HARTMAN: Well, thank you very much. Can I be in charge for a while? COWBOY: Sir, yes, Sir. HARTMAN: Are you shook up? Are you nervous? COWBOY: Sir, I am, Sir. HARTMAN: Do I make you nervous? COWBOY: Sir... HARTMAN: Sir what? Were you about to call me an asshole? COWBOY: Sir, no, Sir. HARTMAN: How tall are you, Private? COWBOY: Sir, five foot nine, Sir. HARTMAN: Five foot nine, I did not know they stacked shit that high. You trying to squeeze an inch in on me somewhere, huh? COWBOY: Sir, no, Sir. HARTMAN: Bullshit, it looks to me like the best part of you ran down the crack of your mama's ass and ended up as a brown stain on the mattress. I think you've been cheated. Where in Hell are you from anyway, Private? COWBOY: Sir, Texas, Sir. HARTMAN: Holy dogshit, Texas! Only steers and queers come from Texas, Private Cowboy. And you don't look much like a steer to me, so that kinda narrows it down. Do you suck dicks? COWBOY: Sir, no, Sir. HARTMAN: Are you a peter-puffer? COWBOY: Sir, no, Sir. HARTMAN: I bet you're the kind of guy that would fuck a person in the ass and not even have the god-damn common courtesy to give him a reach-around. I'll be watching you. HARTMAN: Did your parents have any children that live? PYLE: Sir, yes, Sir. HARTMAN: I bet they regret that. You're so ugly you could be a modern art masterpiece. What is your name, fatbody? PYLE: Sir, Leonard Lawrence, Sir. HARTMAN: Lawrence, Lawrence, what, of Arabia? PYLE: Sir, no, Sir. HARTMAN: That name sounds like royalty. Are you royalty? PYLE: Sir, no, Sir. HARTMAN: Do you suck dicks? PYLE: Sir, no, Sir. HARTMAN: Bullshit, I bet you could suck a golf ball through a garden hose. PYLE: Sir, no, Sir. HARTMAN: I don't like the name Lawrence, only faggots and sailors are called Lawrence. From now on you are Gomer Pyle. PYLE: Sir, yes, Sir. HARTMAN: Do you think I'm cute, Private Pyle? Do you think I'm funny? PYLE: Sir, no, Sir. HARTMAN: Then wipe that disgusting grin off your face. PYLE: Sir, yes, Sir. HARTMAN: Well, any fucking time, sweetheart. PYLE: Sir, I'm trying, Sir. HARTMAN: Private Pyle, I'm gonna give you three seconds -- exactly three fucking seconds -- to wipe that stupid-looking grin off your face, or I will gouge out your eyeballs and skull-fuck you! One, two, three... PYLE: Sir, I can't help it, Sir. HARTMAN: Bullshit, get on your knees, scumbag! Now choke yourself. Goddamn it, with my hand, numbnuts. Don't pull my fucking hand over there. I said choke yourself. Now lean forward and choke yourself. Are you through grinning? PYLE: Sir, yes, Sir. HARTMAN: Bullshit, I can't hear you. PYLE: Sir, yes, Sir. HARTMAN: Bullshit, I still can't hear you. Sound off like you got a pair. PYLE: Sir, yes, Sir. HARTMAN: That is enough, get on your feet. Private Pyle, you had best square your ass away and start shitting me Tiffany cuff links or I will definitely fuck you up. PYLE: Sir, yes, Sir. HARTMAN: I am Gunnery Sargeant Hartman, your senior drill instructor. From now on you will speak only when spoken to. And the first and last words out of your filthy sewers will be Sir, do you maggots understand that? RECRUITS: Sir, yes, Sir. HARTMAN: Bullshit, I can't hear you, sounds off like you got a pair. RECRUITS: Sir, yes, Sir. HARTMAN: If you ladies leave my island, if you survive recruit traning, you will be a weapon. You will be a minister of death, praying for war. But until that day, you are pukes. You are the lowest form of life on Earth. You are not even human fucking beings. You are nothing but unorganized grabasstic pieces of amphibian shit. Because I am hard, you will not like me, but the more you hate me, the more you will learn. I am hard but I am fair. There is no racial bigotry here. I do not look down on niggers, kikes, wops or greasers. Here, you are all equally worthless. And my orders are to weed out all non-hackers who do not pack the gear to serve in my beloved Corps. Do you maggots understand that? RECRUITS: Sir, yes, Sir. HARTMAN: Bullshit, I can't hear you. RECRUITS: Sir, yes, Sir. HARTMAN: What is your name, scumbag? BROWN: Sir, Private Brown, Sir. HARTMAN: Bullshit, from now on you are Private Snowball. Do you like that name? BROWN: Sir, yes, Sir. HARTMAN: Well there is one thing that you won't like, Private Snowball. They do not serve fried chicken and watermelon on a daily basis in my mess hall. BROWN: Sir, yes, Sir. JOKER: Is that you, John Wayne? Is this me? HARTMAN: Who said that? Who the fuck said that? Who is the slimey little communist shit twinkle-toed cocksucker down here who just signed his own death warrant? Nobody, huh? There fairy fucking godmother said it. Out-fucking-standing. I will PT you all until you fucking die. I [will] PT you until you assholes are sucking buttermilk. Was it you, you scroungy little fuck, huh? COWBOY: Sir, no, Sir. HARTMAN: You little piece of shit, you look like a fucking worm. I bet it was you. COWBOY: Sir, no, Sir. JOKER: Sir, I said it, Sir. HARTMAN: Well, no shit. What have we got here? A fucking comedian, Private Joker. I admire your honesty. Hell, I like you. You can come over to my house and fuck my sister. You little scumbag. I got your name, I got your ass. You will not laugh, you will not cry, you will learn by the numbers. I will teach you. Now get up, get on your feet. You had best unfuck yourself or I will unscur your head and shit down your neck. JOKER: Sir, yes, sir. HARTMAN: Private Joker, why did you join my beloved Corps? JOKER: Sir, to kill, Sir. HARTMAN: So you are a killer? JOKER: Sir, yes, Sir. HARTMAN: Let me see your war face. JOKER: Sir? HARTMAN: You got a war face? AAAAAH. That is a war face. Now let me see your war face. JOKER: AAAAAH. HARTMAN: Bullshit, you did not convince me. Let me see your real war face. JOKER: WAAAAAAH! HARTMAN: You do not scare me. Work on it. JOKER: Sir, yes, Sir. HARTMAN: What is your excuse? COWBOY: Sir, excuse for what, Sir? HARTMAN: I am asking the fucking questions here, Private. Do you understand? COWBOY: Sir, yes, Sir. HARTMAN: Well, thank you very much. Can I be in charge for a while? COWBOY: Sir, yes, Sir. HARTMAN: Are you shook up? Are you nervous? COWBOY: Sir, I am, Sir. HARTMAN: Do I make you nervous? COWBOY: Sir... HARTMAN: Sir what? Were you about to call me an asshole? COWBOY: Sir, no, Sir. HARTMAN: How tall are you, Private? COWBOY: Sir, five foot nine, Sir. HARTMAN: Five foot nine, I did not know they [can] stack shit that high. You are trying to squeeze an inch in on me somewhere, huh? In-between note from jengelh: Other FMJ sources say "they stacked shit", but that seems impossible to me, as the German audio track says "Ich wusste gar nicht, dass man Scheiße so hoch stapeln kann" (= I did not know that shit can be stacked that high). COWBOY: Sir, no, Sir. HARTMAN: Bullshit, it looks to me like the best part of you ran down the crack of your mama's ass and ended up as a brown stain on the mattress. I think you have been cheated. Where in Hell are you from anyway, Private? COWBOY: Sir, Texas, Sir. HARTMAN: Holy dogshit, Texas! Only steers and queers come from Texas, Private Cowboy. And you do not look much like a steer to me, so that kinda narrows it down. Do you suck dicks? COWBOY: Sir, no, Sir. HARTMAN: Are you a peter-puffer? COWBOY: Sir, no, Sir. HARTMAN: I bet you are the kind of guy that would fuck a person in the ass and not even have the god-damn common courtesy to give him a reach-around. I will be watching you. HARTMAN: Did your parents have any children that live? PYLE: Sir, yes, Sir. HARTMAN: I bet they regret that. You are so ugly you could be a modern art masterpiece. What is your name, fatbody? PYLE: Sir, Leonard Lawrence, Sir. HARTMAN: Lawrence, Lawrence, what, of Arabia? PYLE: Sir, no, Sir. HARTMAN: That name sounds like royalty. Are you royalty? PYLE: Sir, no, Sir. HARTMAN: Do you suck dicks? PYLE: Sir, no, Sir. HARTMAN: Bullshit, I bet you could suck a golf ball through a garden hose. PYLE: Sir, no, Sir. HARTMAN: I do not like the name Lawrence, only faggots and sailors are called Lawrence. From now on you are Gomer Pyle. PYLE: Sir, yes, Sir. HARTMAN: Do you think I am cute, Private Pyle? Do you think I am funny? PYLE: Sir, no, Sir. HARTMAN: Then wipe that disgusting grin off your face. PYLE: Sir, yes, Sir. HARTMAN: Well, any fucking time, sweetheart. PYLE: Sir, I am trying, Sir. HARTMAN: Private Pyle, I am gonna give you three seconds -- excactly three fucking seconds -- to wipe that stupid-looking grin off your face, or I will gouge out your eyeballs and skull-fuck you! One, two, three... PYLE: Sir, I can't help it, Sir. HARTMAN: Bullshit, get on your knees, scumbag! Now choke yourself. Goddamn it, with my hand, numbnuts. Do not pull my fucking hand over there. I said choke yourself. Now lean forward and choke yourself. Are you through grinning? PYLE: Sir, yes, Sir. HARTMAN: Bullshit, I can't hear you. PYLE: Sir, yes, Sir. HARTMAN: Bullshit, I still can't hear you. Sounds off like you got a fere. PYLE: Sir, yes, Sir. HARTMAN: That is enough, get on your feet. Private Pyle, you had best square your ass away and start shitting me Tiffany cuff links or I will definitely fuck you up. PYLE: Sir, yes, Sir. HARTMAN: I am Gunnery Sargeant Hartman, your senior drill instructor. From now on you will speak only when spoken to. And the first and last words out of your filthy sewers will be Sir, do you maggots understand that? RECRUITS: Sir, yes, Sir. HARTMAN: Bullshit, I can't hear you, sounds off like you got a pair. RECRUITS: Sir, yes, Sir. HARTMAN: If you ladies leave my island, if you survive recruit traning, you will be a weapon. You will be a minister of death, praying for war. But until that day, you are pukes. You are the lowest form of life on Earth. You are not even human fucking beings. You are nothing but unorganized grabasstic pieces of amphibian shit. Because I am hard, you will not like me, but the more you hate me, the more you will learn. I am hard but I am fair. There is no racial bigotry here. I do not look down on niggers, kikes, wops or greasers. Here, you are all equally worthless. And my orders are to weed out all non-hackers who do not pack the gear to serve in my beloved Corps. Do you maggots understand that? RECRUITS: Sir, yes, Sir. HARTMAN: Bullshit, I can't hear you. RECRUITS: Sir, yes, Sir. HARTMAN: What is your name, scumbag? BROWN: Sir, Private Brown, Sir. HARTMAN: Bullshit, from now on you are Private Snowball. Do you like that name? BROWN: Sir, yes, Sir. HARTMAN: Well there is one thing that you won't like, Private Snowball. They do not serve fried chicken and watermelon on a daily basis in my mess hall. BROWN: Sir, yes, Sir. JOKER: Is that you, John Wayne? Is this me? HARTMAN: Who said that? Who the fuck said that? Who is the slimey little communist shit twinkle-toed cocksucker down here who just signed his own death warrant? Nobody, huh? There fairy fucking godmother said it. Out-fucking-standing. I will PT you all until you fucking die. I [will] PT you until you assholes are sucking buttermilk. Was it you, you scroungy little fuck, huh? COWBOY: Sir, no, Sir. HARTMAN: You little piece of shit, you look like a fucking worm. I bet it was you. COWBOY: Sir, no, Sir. JOKER: Sir, I said it, Sir. HARTMAN: Well, no shit. What have we got here? A fucking comedian, Private Joker. I admire your honesty. Hell, I like you. You can come over to my house and fuck my sister. You little scumbag. I got your name, I got your ass. You will not laugh, you will not cry, you will learn by the numbers. I will teach you. Now get up, get on your feet. You had best unfuck yourself or I will unscur your head and shit down your neck. JOKER: Sir, yes, sir. HARTMAN: Private Joker, why did you join my beloved Corps? JOKER: Sir, to kill, Sir. HARTMAN: So you are a killer? JOKER: Sir, yes, Sir. HARTMAN: Let me see your war face. JOKER: Sir? HARTMAN: You got a war face? AAAAAH. That is a war face. Now let me see your war face. JOKER: AAAAAH. HARTMAN: Bullshit, you did not convince me. Let me see your real war face. JOKER: WAAAAAAH! HARTMAN: You do not scare me. Work on it. JOKER: Sir, yes, Sir. HARTMAN: What is your excuse? COWBOY: Sir, excuse for what, Sir? HARTMAN: I am asking the fucking questions here, Private. Do you understand? COWBOY: Sir, yes, Sir. HARTMAN: Well, thank you very much. Can I be in charge for a while? COWBOY: Sir, yes, Sir. HARTMAN: Are you shook up? Are you nervous? COWBOY: Sir, I am, Sir. HARTMAN: Do I make you nervous? COWBOY: Sir... HARTMAN: Sir what? Were you about to call me an asshole? COWBOY: Sir, no, Sir. HARTMAN: How tall are you, Private? COWBOY: Sir, five foot nine, Sir. HARTMAN: Five foot nine, I did not know they [can] stack shit that high. You are trying to squeeze an inch in on me somewhere, huh? In-between note from jengelh: Other FMJ sources say "they stacked shit", but that seems impossible to me, as the German audio track says "Ich wusste gar nicht, dass man Scheiße so hoch stapeln kann" (= I did not know that shit can be stacked that high). COWBOY: Sir, no, Sir. HARTMAN: Bullshit, it looks to me like the best part of you ran down the crack of your mama's ass and ended up as a brown stain on the mattress. I think you have been cheated. Where in Hell are you from anyway, Private? COWBOY: Sir, Texas, Sir. HARTMAN: Holy dogshit, Texas! Only steers and queers come from Texas, Private Cowboy. And you do not look much like a steer to me, so that kinda narrows it down. Do you suck dicks? COWBOY: Sir, no, Sir. HARTMAN: Are you a peter-puffer? COWBOY: Sir, no, Sir. HARTMAN: I bet you are the kind of guy that would fuck a person in the ass and not even have the god-damn common courtesy to give him a reach-around. I will be watching you. HARTMAN: Did your parents have any children that live? PYLE: Sir, yes, Sir. HARTMAN: I bet they regret that. You are so ugly you could be a modern art masterpiece. What is your name, fatbody? PYLE: Sir, Leonard Lawrence, Sir. HARTMAN: Lawrence, Lawrence, what, of Arabia? PYLE: Sir, no, Sir. HARTMAN: That name sounds like royalty. Are you royalty? PYLE: Sir, no, Sir. HARTMAN: Do you suck dicks? PYLE: Sir, no, Sir. HARTMAN: Bullshit, I bet you could suck a golf ball through a garden hose. PYLE: Sir, no, Sir. HARTMAN: I do not like the name Lawrence, only faggots and sailors are called Lawrence. From now on you are Gomer Pyle. PYLE: Sir, yes, Sir. HARTMAN: Do you think I am cute, Private Pyle? Do you think I am funny? PYLE: Sir, no, Sir. HARTMAN: Then wipe that disgusting grin off your face. PYLE: Sir, yes, Sir. HARTMAN: Well, any fucking time, sweetheart. PYLE: Sir, I am trying, Sir. HARTMAN: Private Pyle, I am gonna give you three seconds -- excactly three fucking seconds -- to wipe that stupid-looking grin off your face, or I will gouge out your eyeballs and skull-fuck you! One, two, three... PYLE: Sir, I can't help it, Sir. HARTMAN: Bullshit, get on your knees, scumbag! Now choke yourself. Goddamn it, with my hand, numbnuts. Do not pull my fucking hand over there. I said choke yourself. Now lean forward and choke yourself. Are you through grinning? PYLE: Sir, yes, Sir. HARTMAN: Bullshit, I can't hear you. PYLE: Sir, yes, Sir. HARTMAN: Bullshit, I still can't hear you. Sounds off like you got a fere. PYLE: Sir, yes, Sir. HARTMAN: That is enough, get on your feet. Private Pyle, you had best square your ass away and start shitting me Tiffany cuff links or I will definitely fuck you up. PYLE: Sir, yes, Sir. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=71Lft6EQh-Y Dialogue take-away: In his effort to break down the recruits' (and the audience's) psychological defenses and rebuild their (our) psyches to his liking, Sergeant Hartmann progresses from relatively straightforward obscenity and racism to vile, violent, and profane threats that are so shocking they're borderline surreal.