Walter Garber:
What's her name?
Ryder:
Lavitca, she was Lithuanian... she was an ASS-model.
Walter Garber:
She asked you what?
Ryder:
You heard of hand-models, right? Advertisements?
Walter Garber:
Right.
Ryder:
She was an ass-model... she did jeans and uh you know, magazines and shit. Anyway, it was fashion week in New York and uh... I took her to Iceland.
Walter Garber:
Lavitca, Lithuanian, Ass model, Iceland, you took her to the ice...
Ryder:
So, for five-hundred bucks they'll take you on a dog-sled ride on a glacier.
Walter Garber:
Dog-sled?
Ryder:
Yeah... and you know that whole saying that if you're not the lead dog, the view never changes?
Walter Garber:
Right, otherwise you're always looking at the asshole of the dog in front of you.
Ryder:
That'll be funny in a minute when I get to that part.
Walter Garber:
It's funny now.
Ryder:
[next scene] And it's eight in the morning, we haven't been to bed yet... and we're tooling across this glacier and I got this hangover that's creeping up the back of my neck... and guess what I'm looking at?
Walter Garber:
You're obviously you're staring at... the ass of the dog in front of you.
Ryder:
You got it! So this dog... out of nowhere just lifts his hind-legs up and puts them in the, you know the harness there... and just takes a shit, while he's running on his front paws. So he's dumping and running, all at the same time... now that's multi-fucking-tasking if you ask me.
Walter Garber:
Get outta here, did it hit you?
Ryder:
Shit always hits you man. [next scene]
Ryder:
I didn't know it at the time, but it was profound.
Walter Garber:
Profound?
Ryder:
Yeah.
Walter Garber:
Why? Uh, you lost me.
Ryder:
Well, you know uh... when I went to prison later on, what you called. Uh, I had trouble going to the toilet... you know, a privacy thing. And I... couldn't take a shit. I was scared shitless... literally. So, you know what I thought of?
Walter Garber:
You thought of the dog.
Ryder:
That's right... I thought of that dog. If it could do what it needed to do... so could I. It saved my fucking live.
Walter Garber:
Wow, that is profound.
Kaffee:
Private Downey, one last time, why did you go into Santiago's barracks room on the night of September 6th?
Downey:
A code red was ordered by my platoon commander Lieutenant Jonathan James Kendrick, sir.
Kaffee:
Thank you. Your witness.
Capt. Ross:
Private, on the week of 2 September the switch log has you down at post 39 until 1600, is that right?
Downey:
I'm sure it is, sir, they keep that log pretty good.
Capt. Ross:
How far is it from Post 39 to the Windward barracks?
Downey:
It's a ways, sir. It's a hike.
Capt. Ross:
How far by jeep?
Downey:
Ten, fifteen minutes.
Capt. Ross:
Ever have to walk it?
Downey:
Yes, sir. That day, sir. Friday. The pick up private. That's like what we call the guy who drops us off and picks us up at our posts, also because he can get girls in New York City. Well, pick up comes driving up and, bam, a blow out right at 39 with no spare so we had to double time it back to the barracks.
Capt. Ross:
And if it's ten, fifteen minutes by jeep I'm guessing that it would have to be at least an hour by foot, is that right?
Downey:
Pick up and me did it in 45 flat.
Capt. Ross:
Not bad. Now private, you testified earlier that your assault on Santiago was the result of an order that you received in your barracks room at 1620, is that right?
Downey:
Yes, sir.
Capt. Ross:
But you just said that you didn't make it back to the Windward barracks until 1645.
Downey:
Sir?
Capt. Ross:
Well, how could you be in your barracks room at 1620 if you didn't make it back to the Windward barracks until 1645?
Downey:
Well, you see, sir, there was a blow out.
Capt. Ross:
Private, did you actually ever hear Lieutenant Kendrick order a code red?
Downey:
Well, Hal said that...
Capt. Ross:
Private, did you actually ever hear Lieutenant Kendrick order a code red?
Downey:
No, sir.
Galloway:
Your Honor, I'd like a recess to confer with my client.
Jack Lipnick:
Look Bart, barring a preference we're going to put you on a wrestling picture, Wallace Beery. I say this because they tell me you know the poetry of the streets, so that would rule out westerns, pirate pictures, screwball, bible, roman... look, I'm not one of those guys who thinks poetic has got to be fruity. We're together on that aren't we? I mean I'm from New York myself, well, Minsk if you want to go all the way back. Which we won't, if you don't mind and I ain't asking. Now people are going to say to you, Wallace Beery, wrestling, it's a B picture. You tell them: BULLSHIT! We do NOT make B pictures here at Capitol. Let's put a stop to that rumour RIGHT now!
Ricky Slade:
OK, Bob, you knocked the Jew's tooth out, right? That's gonna cost Max 8 grand, maybe more than 8 grand. You probably lost him his whole line of clientele too. Plus, you've been fucking up Jess' dancing. Now I think he knows I sold the fucking carpet van, he's been giving me looks and shit which leads to that, OK? Now he can't kill us in Los Angeles cause there's a lot of questions there right? But all of a sudden he flies us out to New York City to do a drop? We don't know what the fuck the drop is, OK? But if we disappeared out here, there's no fucking questions involved in that. There's no questions if we disappear. LA, questions, drop out here, not a lot of questions!
Bobby:
How do you come up with this shit?
