Cpl. Anthony 'Manimal' Jacks: Hitman 2-3 this is Hitman 2-2. Er... over.
Unknown Marine on Comms: Manimal you are no longer allowed to touch the headset. Over.
Cpl. Anthony 'Manimal' Jacks: ...Yeah, you're right. Over.
Cpl. Josh Ray Person: [Colbert is running around a field with his arms outstretched like an airplane] What did you like give him some Rolling Stone drugs or something?
Evan 'Scribe' Wright: I don't know.
Cpl. Josh Ray Person: What the fuck did you do to him?
Evan 'Scribe' Wright: Just asked him what he would be if he wasn't a Marine.
Cpl. Josh Ray Person: Oh my god, he wants to be a ballerina? That's my fucking dream!
Lt. Nathaniel Fick: Walt, finish your report, get it to me asap. You did nothing wrong, but... we're gonna see if there's a better way to stop these cars.
Cpl. Josh Ray Person: Walt's got a great way, LT. Shoot the driver, stop the car.
Sgt. Maj. John Sixta: You're inappropriatin' your chemical filtration device by attempting fornication with it! Jesus, do I have to tell you not to desecrate your mask with perversions?
Lance Cpl. Harold James Trombley: Shit, man, they're taking everything.
Cpl. Josh Ray Person: Yeah, they're pretty much liberated around here.
Sgt. Brad 'Iceman' Colbert: Ray, stay focused. We have a mission.
Cpl. Josh Ray Person: Yeah, some mission..."cross the magic line."
Cpl. Anthony 'Manimal' Jacks: [There is a load crash in the background] Fuck!
Sgt. Antonio Espera: Yo, Manimal just dropped a case of grenades.
Cpl. James Chaffin: See? That's why we can't have nice things.
Cpl. James Chaffin: [voiceover during end credits] I don't give a fuck what you write. It's gonna come out all liberal media bullshit spin on it anyway.
Evan 'Scribe' Wright: Seriously, what am I supposed to do with all this bullshit you guys constantly talk?
Cpl. James Chaffin: Oh, you think I'm some sorta racist psycho redneck?
Sgt. Antonio Espera: What, you ain't?
Cpl. James Chaffin: Oh, and you ain't some fuckin' militant taco-bender revolutionary?
Sgt. Antonio Espera: See, reporter? No outsider can understand how we really are.
Cpl. James Chaffin: We're all fuckin' brothers.
Sgt. Antonio Espera: And we're all fuckin' alpha males too.
Cpl. James Chaffin: We gotta constantly test each other.
Sgt. Antonio Espera: All we do is fight for position in the pack, dawg. All that training we do? The martial arts, the grappling? It's for practice. But it's also for real, to achieve dominance over a motherfucker. We do the same thing mentally. It's prison rules, dawg. We probe for any fuckin' weakness we can find. Family, race, brains, looks. Anything you have on a motherfucker, you wear it the fuck out.
Cpl. James Chaffin: Bein' a Marine isn't about words, anyway. It's about your fuckin' actions.
Sgt. Antonio Espera: Back home in the civilian world, a fool slaps a "protect the planet" sticker on his car, suddenly he's all about the environment and shit. Don't matter that he still drives that fuckin' car, fires up his computer and video games and cell phone every night with electricity made from nuclear power, coal, and fuckin' melted baby seal oil. Nuh-uh-uh, I got a dolphin sticker on my shit, so I'm all about savin' the fuckin' planet.
Sgt. Antonio Espera: In our fuckin' Marine Corps civilization, it don't matter what a motherfucker says. Only thing that matters is, dawg, would you charge that motherfuckin' machine gun when the motherfucker tells you to charge the motherfuckin' machine gun.
Cpl. James Chaffin: Shit, everybody in this platoon's a hard charger. Marines bitch about everything, man: chow, fuckin' moron officers, no time for a combat jack. But you will NEVER hear a Marine in this platoon bitch that we could die at any second.
Sgt. Antonio Espera: Hell, no.
Cpl. James Chaffin: THAT'S what we signed up for.
Sgt. Antonio Espera: Oorah that, motherfucker.
Cpl. James Chaffin: Fuckin' care if some latte-sippin' bisexual college student readin' about Justin Timberlake in "Rolling Stones" think I'm a psycho racist cracker? Fuck, no. I'd give my life for any brother in here. I know any one of them'd do the same for me. You think it matters if I call fuckin' T a nigger? Shit. Fuckin' love that big dark green Marine and his big ol' beautiful nigger dick.
Cpl. James Chaffin: Love all my dirty spic brothers here.
Sgt. Antonio Espera: And I love this fuckin' cracker-ass inbred racist peckerwood fuck. I don't know why I do, dawg, but I do.
Cpl. James Chaffin: 'Cause I'm pretty and I shave my balls. Wanna touch 'em, reporter?
Evan 'Scribe' Wright: No. Thanks.
Cpl. James Chaffin: Look, man, I joined the Marine Corps ten days after I graduated high school. I went to school with all these rich kids at St. Tammany's Parish, but I was an apartment kid. My mom worked. I worked summers diggin' footings on the weekends. I was a dishwasher at D'Angelo's Pizzeria. I busted my ass, became a Recon Marine since I was nineteen. My shit is tight as fuck. I know that, my brothers in this platoon know that. So fuck all of you.
[Wright spits out his tobacco juice]
Sgt. Antonio Espera: Damn, war scribe, you just spit on my fuckin' rack, dawg.
Evan 'Scribe' Wright: Where?
Sgt. Antonio Espera: There! You see that pile of dried camel dung? That's my fuckin' pillow, dawg! You fuckin' spit on it, fool! You a heinous-ass white boy.
Evan 'Scribe' Wright: Sorry.