Daily Dialogue — September 24, 2016

Sergeant HARTMAN stops in front of a black recruit, Private SNOWBALL.

HARTMAN: What’s your name, scumbag?
SNOWBALL: (shouting) Sir, Private Brown, sir!
HARTMAN: Bullshit! From now on you’re Private Snowball! Do you like that name?
SNOWBALL: (shouting) Sir, yes, sir!
HARTMAN: Well, there’s one thing that you won’t like, Private Snowball! They don’t serve fried chicken and watermelon on a daily basis in my mess hall!
SNOWBALL: Sir, yes, sir!
JOKER: (whispering) Is that you, John Wayne? Is this me?
HARTMAN: Who said that? Who the fuck said that? Who’s the slimy little communist shit twinkle-toed cocksucker down here, who just signed his own death warrant? Nobody, huh?! The fairy fucking godmother said it! Out-fucking-standing! I will P.T. you all until you fucking die! I’ll P.T. you until your assholes are sucking buttermilk.

Sergeant HARTMAN grabs Cowboy by the shirt.

HARTMAN: 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’ll bet it was you!
COWBOY: Sir, no, sir!
JOKER: Sir, I said it, sir!

Sergeant HARTMAN steps up to JOKER.

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.

Sergeant HARTMAN purnches JOKER in the stomach. JOKER sags to his knees.

HARTMAN: You little scumbag! I’ve got your name! I’ve 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’re a killer!
JOKER: Sir, yes, sir!
HARTMAN: Let me see your war face!
JOKER: Sir?
HARTMAN: You’ve got a war face? Aaaaaaaagh! That’s a war face. Now let me see your war face!
JOKER: Aaaaaaaagh!
HARTMAN: Bullshit! You didn’t convince me! Let me see your real war face!
JOKER: Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh!
HARTMAN: You didn’t scare me! Work on it!
JOKER: Sir, yes, sir!

Sergeant HARTMAN speaks into cowboy’s face.

HARTMAN: What’s your excuse?
COWBOY: Sir, excuse for what, sir?
HARTMAN: I’m 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 didn’t 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!n 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’ll bet you’re the kind of guy that would fuck a person in the ass and not even have the goddam common courtesy to give him a reach- around! I’ll be watching you!

Hartman moves down to Pyle.

HARTMAN: Did your parents have any children that lived?
PYLE: Sir, yes, sir.
HARTMAN: I bet they regret that. You’re so ugly you could be a modern art masterpiece! What’s your name fat body?
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’re 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.

Tries to stop smiling.

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!

Pyle drops down to his knees.

HARTMAN: Now choke yourself.

Pyle wraps his own hands around his throat.

HARTMAN: Goddamn it, with MY hand, numb-nuts!

Pyle reaches for Hartman’s hand.

HARTMAN: Don’t pull my fucking hand over there! I said choke yourself; now lean forward and choke yourself! [Pyle does so] Are you through grinning?
PYLE: [gagging] Sir, yes, sir.
HARTMAN: Bullshit, I can’t hear you!
PYLE: [louder] Sir, yes, sir.
HARTMAN: Bullshit, I STILL can’t hear you! Sound off like you’ve got a pair!
Private Gomer Pyle: SIR, YES, SIR!
HARTMAN: That’s enough! Get on your feet. Private Pyle you had best square your ass away and start shitting me Tiffany cufflinks or I will definitely fuck you up!
PYLE: Sir, yes, sir.

— Full Metal Jacket (1987), screenplay by Stanley Kubrick & Michael Herr & Gustav Hasford,

The Daily Dialogue theme for the week: Military Moments, suggested by Will King. Today’s suggestion by Lois Bernard.

Trivia: R. Lee Ermey went to Stanley Kubrick and asked for the role of Gunnery Sgt. Hartmann. In his opinion, the actors on the set were not up to snuff. When Kubrick declined, Ermey barked an order for Kubrick to stand up when he was spoken to, and the director instinctively obeyed. Ermey got the role.

Dialogue On Dialogue: Talk about an introduction to military life. Hartman is a ‘hard’ man, indeed.