Smitty Ryker: [BREATHING HEAVILY] [GROANING SOFTLY]
Howell: There's something off in your presentation, Private. Can't place it. Is it your hair? Is it the wrinkle in your trousers?
Smitty Ryker: I have a knife in my foot, Sergeant.
Howell: Oh, yes, of course, that's it. The knife. What is your name, soldier?
Smitty Ryker: Smitty Ryker.
Howell: No, your name is Private Idiot. Do you know why?
Smitty Ryker: Because I have a knife in my foot.
Howell: Who placed the knife there, Private?
Smitty Ryker: It was an accident, Sarge. We was playing Stretch.
Howell: I am heartened by the knowledge you did not place it there with intention. Who threw the knife?
Kirzinski: I did, Sergeant. Private Kirzinski.
Howell: You look part Indian. To what tribe do you belong, son?
Kirzinski: No, I'm Polish.
Howell: Wrong. I believe you must have Cherokee or Shawnee blood in you.
Kirzinski: No, Sergeant.
Howell: Are you contradicting me, you wagon-burning son of a bitch?
Kirzinski: No, Sergeant!
Howell: Let me see your Indian war cry, son.
Kirzinski: I don't...
Howell: [IMITATING WAR CRY]
Howell & Kirzinski: [BOTH IMITATING WAR CRY]
Howell: Louder! Let me see it.
Kirzinski: [IMITATES WAR CRY LOUDER]
Howell: What is your animal spirit? Are you a garter snake?
Kirzinski: No, Sergeant!
Howell: Are you a chipmunk?
Kirzinski: No, Sergeant!
Howell: Are you a dancing reindeer?
Kirzinski: No, Sergeant!
Howell: Are you contradicting me, Private?
Kirzinski: No, Sergeant!
Howell: Good. Then I shall henceforth call you "Chief" as a sign of great respect to your people.
Kirzinski: Thank you, Sergeant!
Howell: There's something off in your presentation, Private. Can't place it. Is it your hair? Is it the wrinkle in your trousers?
Smitty Ryker: I have a knife in my foot, Sergeant.
Howell: Oh, yes, of course, that's it. The knife. What is your name, soldier?
Smitty Ryker: Smitty Ryker.
Howell: No, your name is Private Idiot. Do you know why?
Smitty Ryker: Because I have a knife in my foot.
Howell: Who placed the knife there, Private?
Smitty Ryker: It was an accident, Sarge. We was playing Stretch.
Howell: I am heartened by the knowledge you did not place it there with intention. Who threw the knife?
Kirzinski: I did, Sergeant. Private Kirzinski.
Howell: You look part Indian. To what tribe do you belong, son?
Kirzinski: No, I'm Polish.
Howell: Wrong. I believe you must have Cherokee or Shawnee blood in you.
Kirzinski: No, Sergeant.
Howell: Are you contradicting me, you wagon-burning son of a bitch?
Kirzinski: No, Sergeant!
Howell: Let me see your Indian war cry, son.
Kirzinski: I don't...
Howell: [IMITATING WAR CRY]
Howell & Kirzinski: [BOTH IMITATING WAR CRY]
Howell: Louder! Let me see it.
Kirzinski: [IMITATES WAR CRY LOUDER]
Howell: What is your animal spirit? Are you a garter snake?
Kirzinski: No, Sergeant!
Howell: Are you a chipmunk?
Kirzinski: No, Sergeant!
Howell: Are you a dancing reindeer?
Kirzinski: No, Sergeant!
Howell: Are you contradicting me, Private?
Kirzinski: No, Sergeant!
Howell: Good. Then I shall henceforth call you "Chief" as a sign of great respect to your people.
Kirzinski: Thank you, Sergeant!
Smitty Ryker : [BREATHING HEAVILY] [GROANING SOFTLY]
Howell : There's something off in your presentation, Private. Can't place it. Is it your hair? Is it the wrinkle in your trousers?
Smitty Ryker : I have a knife in my foot, Sergeant.
Howell : Oh, yes, of course, that's it. The knife. What is your name, soldier?
Smitty Ryker : Smitty Ryker.
Howell : No, your name is Private Idiot. Do you know why?
Smitty Ryker : Because I have a knife in my foot.
Howell : Who placed the knife there, Private?
Smitty Ryker : It was an accident, Sarge. We was playing Stretch.
Howell : I am heartened by the knowledge you did not place it there with intention. Who threw the knife?
Kirzinski : I did, Sergeant. Private Kirzinski.
Howell : You look part Indian. To what tribe do you belong, son?
Kirzinski : No, I'm Polish.
Howell : Wrong. I believe you must have Cherokee or Shawnee blood in you.
Kirzinski : No, Sergeant.
Howell : Are you contradicting me, you wagon-burning son of a bitch?
Kirzinski : No, Sergeant!
Howell : Let me see your Indian war cry, son.
Kirzinski : I don't...
Howell : [IMITATING WAR CRY]
Howell & Kirzinski : [BOTH IMITATING WAR CRY]
Howell : Louder! Let me see it.
Kirzinski : [IMITATES WAR CRY LOUDER]
Howell : What is your animal spirit? Are you a garter snake?
Kirzinski : No, Sergeant!
Howell : Are you a chipmunk?
Kirzinski : No, Sergeant!
Howell : Are you a dancing reindeer?
Kirzinski : No, Sergeant!
Howell : Are you contradicting me, Private?
Kirzinski : No, Sergeant!
Howell : Good. Then I shall henceforth call you "Chief" as a sign of great respect to your people.
Kirzinski : Thank you, Sergeant!
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