All language subtitles for Combat.Hospital.S01E03.Its.My.Party.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DD+5.1.x264-Cinefeel_track3_[eng]

(jet engines roar)

(snoring)

(clock ticking)

(snoring continues)

(ticking continues)

(jet engines roaring)

AAH! AAH!

WHAT'S GOING ON?

OH.

WHAT'S GOING ON?

IT WAS A SPIDER.

(military radio chatter)

WAS THE SPIDER ARMED,
MA'AM?

OH. HMM.

***

IT WAS HUGE,
A-AND IT TOOK ME BY SURPRISE.

THEY TOOK MY GUN AND SAID
I MAY HAVE TO PAY A FINE.

WELL, IT'S SOMETHING
TO WRITE HOME ABOUT.

I MEAN, YOU SHOT A SPIDER
BUCK NAKED.

I THINK THIS PLACE MIGHT BE
GETTING TO YOU, MAJOR.

(Ford) MAJOR GORDON...

FOR BRAVERY, VALOR,
YOUR NAKED DETERMINATION,

AND ACTIVE PARTICIPATION
IN GROUND SPIDER COMBAT...

I'D LIKE TO AWARD YOU WITH
THE SPIDER COMBAT ACTION RIBBON.
(camera shutter clicks)

(all laugh)
OH, MY GOD.

(cheering,
camera shutter clicking)
OKAY. OKAY, OKAY.

THANK YOU. THANK YOU.
THANK YOU.
(cheering continues)

(clicking continues)
OKAY. ALL RIGHT, ALL RIGHT,
THANK YOU. WHAT...

DON'T MIND ME.
AND YOU'LL HAVE TO WEAR THIS
FOR AT LEAST A WEEK.

REALLY? DID YOU UPLOAD IT
TO YouTube?

NOT YET, NO. (laughs)

(clicking continues)

HEY, I-I'M SORRY.
WHO ARE YOU?

SORRY. JESSICA DRAYCOTT.
PHOTOJOURNALIST.

THE FOLKS AT HOME
ARE GONNA LOVE THIS.

NO, UH, NO, THEY'RE NOT, 'CAUSE
YOU'RE NOT GONNA PRINT THIS

IN YOUR SMALL-TOWN PAPER
AT MY EXPENSE.

(clears throat) IT'S, UH,
"NEWSWEEK," AND IT'S A MAGAZINE.

IS THAT DAMN IRRITATING
PHOTOGRAPHER HERE AGAIN?

I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU IF I EVER
SEE YOU IN THIS HOSPITAL--
YOU'LL WHAT?

OHH.
(man) OOH, WOW.

(man) WHOA.

WELL, THAT'S EMBARRASSING.

(exhales)

THAT'S A NICE MEDAL, MAJOR.

LET'S PLAY DOCTORS.
MMM.

MAKE SURE TO WEAR
THAT MEDAL TODAY, MAJOR.

YEAH.

OH, AND YOU'RE DOING
THE POST-OP DEBRIDEMENT

ON PRIVATE FAULDER'S LEG,
RIGHT?

UH, YES. THEY'RE PREPPING
THE O.R. AS WE SPEAK.

YEAH, SHE'S GONNA
LET ME ASSIST.

ALL RIGHT. I'LL TELL THE COLONEL
THAT YOU WON'T BE AT ROUNDS.

YOU, UH, SET UP
FOR THE PARTY TOMORROW?

PARTY?

YEAH, THE PARTY.

THE ONE THAT COLONEL MARKS
EXPRESSLY ASKED YOU TO ARRANGE

AS THE MORALE OFFICER.

THE ONE THAT YOU
SHOULD'VE BEEN WORKING ON

EVER SINCE HE ASKED YOU.
OF COURSE.

(mouths word)
I DIDN'T FORGET.
I WAS JUST JOKING.

UM, I HAVE EVERYTHING
UNDER CONTROL. NO WORRIES.

NO WORRIES.
MM-HMM.

DO YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENS
TO THE MORALE OFFICER

WHO FAILS TO PROMOTE A PARTY
AT FRIDAYS AT 1900 HOURS?
THEY'RE ON YOUR BAD SIDE?

NO, THEY'RE ON THE BAD SIDE
OF MY BAD SIDE, MAJOR.

OH.

OH, MY GOD.
CAN THIS DAY GET ANY BETTER?

NOW I HAVE TO PLAN
A FRIGGIN' PARTY?

(laughing)

I'M GONNA
HAVE TO STONE SOUP THIS.

STONE SOUP THIS?

WHAT IS THAT,
A CANADIAN THING?

YOU READY FOR ROUNDS?

YES, SIR.

THEY SAY IT'S GONNA BE A WEEK
BEFORE THEY CAN SEND US

THE REPLACEMENT CIRCUIT
FOR THE SCANNER.

A WEEK WITHOUT A SCANNER?
YEAH.

ALL RIGHT. LET'S GET THESE
ROUNDS STARTED. WHERE'S SIMON?

INDISPOSED.
HOW MANY TIMES
DOES THIS MAKE?

THE LAST TWO WEEKS, HE'S MISSED
FOUR DAYS OF ROUNDS, SIR.

OKAY, PLEASE MAKE SURE HE GETS
A SPECIAL INVITATION FROM ME

TO BE PRESENT
FOR TOMORROW'S ROUNDS.
YES, SIR.

OKAY, FIRST CASE.
LIEUTENANT AVERILL RAKINS.

WHO'S IN CHARGE?

THAT'S MY CASE.
OKAY, GO.

(panting)

OH, YOU ARE IN SO MUCH TROUBLE.

OH, PROMISES, PROMISES.
(laughs)

OH! AH!

LET ME TAKE A SHOWER AT LEAST.
I'M STINKY.
NO, I LOVE THE WAY YOU SMELL.

MM. MM. WHAT DID I SAY
ABOUT THE "L" WORD?

IT'S NOT TO COME WITHIN
100 YARDS OF THIS RELATIONSHIP.

OH, YOU'RE SUCH A GODDESS.

(laughs) I'M ONLY THIS WAY
WITH YOU, SIMON.

YOU KNOW THAT I HAVE A HUSBAND
AND KIDS AT HOME THAT I ADORE.
WHAT?

(laughs)

OH!
GOTCHA.

OH, THIS LOOKS NASTY.
FLUSH.

(heavy metal music playing)

* AND WE ALL KEEP
FALLING DOWN *

* AND THE WORLD
KEEPS TURNING ROUND *

YOU A HEAVY METAL ROCKER,
SUZY?

I'M A COUNTRY-WESTERN GIRL,
MYSELF.

REALLY? YOU GOT
A BIG COLLECTION OF MUSIC?

OVER TEN HOURS
ON MY iPod.

SUTURE.

YOU KNOW...

THE THEME OF TOMORROW'S PARTY
IS WESTERN.

HMM.
IT'S GONNA BE GREAT.

THERE'S GONNA BE A CAMPFIRE
AND FOOD, DANCING.

ALTHOUGH, YOU KNOW,

I JUST DON'T HAVE
THE BEST SELECTION OF MUSIC.

(man) YOU'RE NOT BORROWING
THAT MECHANICAL BULL

FROM THE AUSSIES, ARE YOU?

I TRIED TALKING WITH THEM
ABOUT IT, BUT YOU KNOW WHAT?

COULDN'T GET ANYWHERE.

WELL, IF YOU LET THEM COME
TO THE PARTY,

I'M SURE
THEY'D LET US USE IT.
FAIR ENOUGH.

BUT THEY ALSO HAVE TO DONATE
MONEY TO THE WOMEN'S CLINIC.

TECHNICALLY THAT'S $50 YOU
OWE ME FOR THE GOLDEN GLOBES.

HOW COULD YOU BET AGAINST
HUGH LAURIE, MAN?

YEAH, OKAY, I MUST ADMIT, I DID
LOVE HIM IN "STUART LITTLE."

HEY, DUDE, I JUST GOT THE RECENT
EDITION OF "THRASHER."

YOU WANT TO LOOK?
DUDE, I'VE GOT
TO FIGURE THIS OUT.

MY COMPUTER KEEPS CRASHING.

THERE'S THIS WOMAN...

(chuckles) A WOMAN?

WE'VE BEEN CHATTING ONLINE
FOR TWO WEEKS.

SHE WAS GOING TO SEND ME...

SEND YOU?

A PICTURE.

(laughs) OKAY,
YOU MEAN A PICTURE?

OR--OR--OR A PICTURE,
HUH?

A PICTURE.

(both laugh)

YOU GOTTA CALL
TECH SUPPORT FAST, MAN.
OH, MAN.

OH, I CAN'T AFFORD
THE PHONE TIME.
(pagers beeping)

AH.

OH, MAN. DUTY CALLS, MAN.
DUTY CALLS.

ALL RIGHT.

HERE.
USE MY CARD, OKAY?

IT'S GOT EXTRA MINUTES,

BUT DON'T STAY ON
MORE THAN AN HOUR.

5 BUCKS HE'S ON
FOR 2 HOURS.
THANKS.

(military radio chatter)

(Will) BAY 3. TEAM 4,
ARE YOU READY?

(Bobby) LET'S DO THIS.
TWO G.S.W.s.

KID'S GOT ONE IN THE SHOULDER
AND ONE IN THE ABDOMEN.

B.P.'s 90 OVER 62.
PULSE 135 AND THREADY.

(Mehra) SHOULDER BOUND OFF.
HUNG 2 LITERS RINGERS.

50 MICs FENTANYL ON BOARD.
HEY, SOLDIER.
WHAT'S YOUR NAME?

(British accent)
PRIVATE GRAHAM BARFORD.

WHAT UNIT ARE YOU FROM?

ROYAL KIRKLEES REGIMENT.

IT'S NICE TO MEET YOU.
I'M DR. TRANG. HOW YOU FEELIN'?

NOT GOOD, DOC.

AM I DYING?
NOT IF WE CAN HELP IT.

HEARD YOU GOT A SHINDIG
GOING ON TOMORROW.
YEAH, IT'S GONNA BE FUN.

AND TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED.

WE HEARD THERE WERE INSURGENTS
HOLING UP IN SANGIN.

WE--WE WERE GOING
DOOR TO DOOR--
HEY, HOLD ON...

YOU KNOW,
BEN FROM MORTUARY AFFAIRS

SAID HE HAS
A GREAT CURRY RECIPE.

YOU CAN'T MAKE CURRY
FROM A RECIPE.

YOU MAKE CURRY FROM THE HEART.

LOOK, IF YOU WANT CURRY,
I'LL MAKE IT.
WELL, I CAN'T PASS ON THAT.

OKAY, I'VE GOT FLUID
IN THE LIVER AREA.

GO ON PRIVATE BARFORD.
TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED.

ALL HELL BROKE LOOSE.
(gasps)

HEY, GRAHAM, WE CAN TALK
ABOUT THIS LATER, OKAY?

PERISPLENIC AREA CLEAR.

MOVING TO THE PELVIS.

BLADDER'S EMPTY.

IT'S GONNA BE HARD
TO GET A READING.

I-I KIND OF
LOST CONTROL DOWN THERE.

DON'T EVEN TRIP, PRIVATE.
DR. GORDON DOWN THERE,

SHE SAW A CAMEL SPIDER
THIS MORNING,

SOILED HER PANTS.
IT WAS THE SIZE
OF A SHETLAND PONY.

THEY'RE PRETTY SCARY, MA'AM.

(grunts)
(monitor beeping erratically)

(Larry) HE'S IN SHOCK.
WE'RE LOSING HIM.
REBECCA.

ALL RIGHT, HANG 2 UNITS
O NEG, WIDE OPEN.

WE GOTTA GET HIM
INTO SURGERY NOW.
(Bobby) RIGHT AWAY.

GLAD, HOW ARE
THOSE VITALS DOING?

(Glad) VITALS HOLDING.
ANYBODY ELSE FEEL PREHISTORIC
WITHOUT A SCANNER?

MM-HMM. IF WE HAD
A WORKING C.T. SCANNER,

I WOULD'VE BEEN ABLE
TO ACTUALLY SEE

WHERE THE BULLET IS.

NOW I'M JUST GONNA
HAVE TO SEARCH.

MORE SUCTION, PLEASE.

(Suzy) MM.

THERE IT IS.

DAMN.

WHAT?

IT'S REALLY CLOSE
TO THE VENA CAVA.

THAT MAKES ME NERVOUS.

IF THE I.V.C. WAS INJURED,
HE'D HAVE BLED OUT BY NOW.

(monitor beeping rhythmically)

(clatters)
HOW MUCH BLOOD?

HE'S GONE THROUGH 12 UNITS
OF PURE R.B.C.s.

(beeping continues)

THERE'S NO SEEPAGE.

YEAH, YOU GOT ALL THE BLEEDS.
HE'S BEEN UNDER
FOR FOUR HOURS.

THIS ISN'T DAMAGE CONTROL.
LET'S GET OUT OF HERE.

I THINK YOU'RE GOOD,
REBECCA.

OKAY, WE'RE ALL
IN AGREEMENT?

(Glad and Bobby) YEAH.
ALL RIGHT.

OKAY, I'M GONNA
CLOSE HIM UP.

BARFORD'S NUMBERS
ARE REALLY CRAPPY.

(man)
LOOKING FOR PRIVATE BARFORD.

HE WOULDN'T HAVE LASTED
ANOTHER HOUR OF SURGERY.

IT'S A GOOD THING
YOU GOT OUT WHEN YOU DID.

(Will) MAJOR, THESE SOLDIERS
ARE HERE TO SEE PRIVATE BARFORD.

(British accent)
IS HE ALL RIGHT, SIR?
HE'S GOOD. JUST FINE.

WE REPAIRED HIS BELLY
AND SHOULDER WOUND.

HE LOST A LOT OF BLOOD,
BUT HE'S RALLYING.
THANK YOU.

MAYBE I SHOULD TAKE
A LOOK AT THAT.
NAH, IT'S NOTHING, MA'AM.

OH, WELL,
I'LL BE THE DOCTOR.

COME ON. LET'S GO
TO THE TRAUMA ROOM.

YOU OKAY, SOLIDER?

(British accent) YES, SIR.
I COULDN'T BE BETTER.

(jet engines roar)

ALL RIGHT. YOU GUYS
STICKING AROUND HERE?

ABSOLUTELY.
I WANT TO SEE MY MATE.

OH, IT'S A BIT EARLY
IN THE DAY FOR ME.

DOES COLONEL MARKS KNOW
THAT YOU HAVE THIS?

OHH.

STEADY, BOY.

AHH.

YOU KNOW, MOST WOMEN
ARE LIKE... CALIFORNIA WINES.

THEY'RE AMUSING
AND SOMETIMES SURPRISING.

BUT YOU...

YOU'RE LIKE
A FINE EUROPEAN WINE--

WELL-AGED...

I BEG YOUR PARDON.

AND FULL-BODIED,
WITH SUCH NUANCE

AND COMPLEXITY
AND DELICIOUSNESS.

MM.

(helicopter blades whirring)

SO...

HAVE YOU SIPPED FROM
THE NEW DOC'S BARREL YET?

NO.

SHE'S NOT REALLY MY TYPE.

SHE'S GOT, YOU KNOW,
LIKE A CHIP ON HER SHOULDER,

TOO MUCH TO PROVE.

AH, SHE'S TOO MUCH
FOR YOU.

NO, NO, NO. I COULD HAVE HER
IF I WANTED TO.

MM. SORRY, SUGAR.

THAT GIRL IS NOT
ON YOUR WINE LIST.

(laughs)

I'M FINE, MA'AM.

DID THAT DOCTOR SEND YOU?

'CAUSE I TOLD HIM
I WAS FINE.

WANT TO TELL ME
WHAT HAPPENED?

DO I HAVE TO?

(Rebecca speaking indistinctly)
I MEAN, IS THAT AN ORDER?

YES, MA'AM.

SOMETIMES
TALKING ABOUT IT HELPS.

WHAT HAPPENED OUT THERE?

IT'S ALL RIGHT, JENKINS.

IT WAS
A ROUTINE DOOR-TO-DOOR,

WHEN ALL OF A SUDDEN,
A SNIPER STARTED SHOOTING.

JENKINS FROZE,
DIDN'T YOU, SON?

I'D LIKE HIS VERSION,
PLEASE.

I'M JUST TRYING TO HELP,
MA'AM.

IT'S LIKE HE SAID.

I FROZE,
AND THEY HAD TO PULL ME OUT.

CAN I GO NOW?

(engines rumbling)

CARRY ON.

WHAT HAPPENED TO BARFORD?

WE HUNKERED DOWN
TILL THE SNIPER RELOADED.

THEN WE RAN TO THE CONVOY.

BARFORD WAS THE LAST ONE.
HE GOT HIT.

BARFORD GOT SHOT
FROM THE FRONT.

I'M SORRY, MA'AM.
I WASN'T CLEAR.

BARFORD WAS
THE LAST IN LINE.

I GUESS SOME KID OR LITTLE GIRL
GOT SCARED, CRIED OUT.

HE STOPPED, TURNED AROUND.
THAT'S WHEN HE GOT SHOT.

KIND OF HEROIC, REALLY.

(helicopter blades whirring)

SIRS.

(taps boots together)

I CAN SEE JENKINS BEING
ASHAMED FOR FREEZING,

BUT THERE IS SOMETHING ODD

ABOUT GLEED'S NEED
TO COVER FOR HIM.

WELL, MAYBE GLEED
WAS PROTECTING HIS MEN?

BUT I COULD SEE THIS KID
BEING A HERO.

(monitor beeping erratically)
DAMN IT.

B.P. IS 70 OVER PALP.

BELLY'S RIGID.

HE'S BLEEDING INTERNALLY. WE'VE
GOTTA GET HIM INTO SURGERY NOW.

(beeping continues)

OKAY?
LET'S MOVE.

HOW ARE WE FOR BLOOD?

INFUSER'S READY.

OKAY. LET'S DO THIS.
SCALPEL.

YOU'RE ASKING ME IF THE COMPUTER
COULD HAVE GOTTEN OVERHEATED?

I'M IN FRIGGIN' KANDAHAR.

IT'S 42 DEGREES CELSIUS
IN THE SHADE--

107.6 DEGREES FAHRENHEIT.

DO THE MATH, DUDE.

NO, I CAN'T SEND IN
THE HARD DRIVE.

CAN'T YOU JUST SEND ME
THE PART?

(receiver clatters)
THEY SAID IT MIGHT BE
FROM THE HEAT.

THE TRANSISTOR OR THE CAPACITORS
MIGHT BE LOOSE.

WELL, THERE'S ONE THING
TO DO THEN.

TIME FOR SOME SURGERY.

YOU--YOU GUYS THINK
YOU CAN FIX IT?

FIX IT OR BREAK IT.

WOW. THANKS.
THIS IS GREAT.

SO WHAT'S YOUR HANDLE?

DON'T TELL ANYONE.
I'M KAFCOL.

SHE THINKS I'M
A CANADIAN COLONEL IN MY 40s.
WAIT, WAIT, WAIT.

YOU DIDN'T TELL HER YOUR NAME
WAS COLONEL MARKS, DID YOU?

PLAYING WITH FIRE,
MY BOY.

ARE YOU SURE ABOUT THIS?

OKAY.

SCALPEL.

(sighs) TIN ME.

(Rebecca)
OKAY, KEEP THAT STEADY.

CLAMPING THE VENA CAVA.

(monitor beeps rhythmically)

(Vans) WE'RE NOT
MAKING IT WORSE, ARE WE?

IT WAS DEAD ANYWAY. THIS WAY,
WE GOT A CHANCE AT SAVING IT.

(soldering gun sizzles)

NO, I CAN'T SEE THE TEAR.
THERE'S TOO MUCH BLOOD.

HANGING ANOTHER ROUND.

(monitor beeps rhythmically)

(exhales)
THIS TRANSISTOR'S TRASHED.

WE'RE GONNA NEED
A NEW ONE.

OR... SLIGHTLY USED.

THE COPIER.
MM. MM-HMM.

5 BUCKS SAYS IT'S GOT
THE PERFECT REPLACEMENT.

HUH?
(pagers beeping)

DUTY CALLS.

(sighs)

NO. WAIT.

W-WHAT DO I DO?

GET ONLINE. CHECK THE CIRCUIT
SPECS FOR THE COPIER.

SEE IF WE CAN CANNIBALIZE IT
FOR YOUR PROJECT.
AND DON'T BURN YOURSELF.

GET ONLINE?
MY COMPUTER IS DEAD.

WHERE IS THE FRIGGIN' TEAR?

B.P. FALLING.

THERE. NEAR THE SPINAL
ATTACHMENT. SUTURE.

DAMN BULLET MUST HAVE
NICKED THE VEIN, WEAKENED IT,

THEN WHEN WE GOT
HIS PRESSURE UP, IT JUST BLEW.

HIS NUMBERS ARE GOING SOUTH.
BASE EXCESS DOWN TO MINUS 3--

THEY'RE STILL VIABLE.
CLAMP.

B.P. IS DROPPING.

(Rebecca)
HANG ANOTHER ROUND.
DONE.

DAMN IT.
THE SUTURES ARE TEARING.

IT'S LIKE SEWING TISSUE PAPER.
CLAMP.

DOCTOR, WHY IS MOST OF
MY BLOOD BANK ON THE FLOOR?
IT'S AN I.V.C. REPAIR, SIR.

HOW MANY UNITS IN?

40, SIR.
WHAT ARE HIS NUMBERS?

B.P. 70 OVER 20. BASE ACCESS
DOWN TO A MINUS 5, pH 6.85.

DOCTOR,
HE'S NOT GONNA MAKE IT.

NO, HE'S GOT A CHANCE.
I'M ALMOST THERE.

REBECCA, STEP AWAY
FROM THE TABLE.

YOU NEED TO STOP
THIS PROCEDURE.

BUT YOU KNOW I CAN DO THIS.

YOUR SUTURES AREN'T HOLDING.
JUST GIVE ME A CHANCE,
AND I CAN GET THIS DONE.

I CANNOT DO THAT.
SIR, PLEASE.

MAJOR GORDON, I ORDER YOU
TO STOP THE SURGERY NOW.

(monitor beeping rhythmically)

YOU ARE CONDEMNING THIS BOY
TO DIE,

AND THERE IS A CHANCE
THAT HE COULD LIVE.

NOT ENOUGH OF ONE
TO DRAIN OUR BLOOD BANK.

(beeping continues)

THE SURGERY'S OVER.

(beeping continues)

(door opens)

(sighs)

(door closes)

(monitor beeping rhythmically)

(monitor emitting
continuous tone)

SCREW THIS.

(tone continues)

***

(speaks inaudibly)

(speaking inaudibly)

(camera shutter clicks)

(indistinct conversations)

(click)

(sighs)

WHAT HAPPENED
SINCE I LAST SAW YOU?

YOU SEEM DIFFERENT.

HOW SO?

WHAT, AM I MORE HANDSOME,
MORE SEXY,

MORE JE NE SAIS... WHAT?

SADDER.
AND YOU'RE DRINKING MORE.

HOW'S YOUR FAMILY?
HOW'S YOURS?

YOU KNOW,
I CHECKED THE RECORDS.

(grunts)
YOU ARE MARRIED.

(sniffs)

(indistinct conversations
continue)

SO WHAT'S THIS HUSBAND
OF YOURS LIKE?

DOES HE, UM, DOES HE
SEE OTHER PEOPLE AS WELL?

I SUPPOSE HE MIGHT.

PEOPLE HAVE SEX FOR
ALL SORTS OF REASONS, SIMON.

YOU OF ALL PEOPLE
SHOULD KNOW THAT.
AND WHO'S CYNICAL NOW?

NOT CYNICAL.

PRACTICAL.

SERIOUSLY,
I'M WORRIED ABOUT YOU.

WELL... (sighs) YOU HAVE
NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT, MY DEAR.

(slurps)

(indistinct conversations
continue)

(click)

(indistinct conversations)
YOU.

YOU SAID WE WERE GONNA RECEIVE
OUR NEW SCANNER WITHIN TEN DAYS.

NOW OUR OLD SCANNER
IS SHOT TO HELL.

I'M JUST WAITING
ON MY CONTACTS IN CANADA.

YOU NEED TO EITHER GET ME
A NEW SCANNER

OR THE COMPONENT
FOR THE OLD ONE YESTERDAY.

COLONEL, WE HAVE
9-LINERS COMING IN.

MASS CAL, MULTIPLE I.E.D.s,

A DOZEN OR MORE SOLDIERS
INJURED, ABOUT AN HOUR OUT.

LOCAL AFGHANS ON A SCHOOL BUS?

HOW MANY ALPHAS AND BRAVOS?

(Marks) AND THEY WANT
TO SEND THEM ALL HERE?

ANY CHARLIES?

NO, YOU GOTTA TELL 'EM
TO DIVERT TO BASTION.

WE CAN'T HANDLE A MASS CAL.
WE GOT NO C.T.

OUR BLOOD BANK IS DRAINED.

SORRY, SIR.
DAMN IT, CORDAY.

NOW LET BASTION KNOW

THAT THEY'RE GOING TO RECEIVE
AN INCOMING MASS CAL--

ABOUT A DOZEN TROOPS--
ALL RIGHT?

SIR, A SCHOOL BUS HIT
AN UNEXPLODED SOVIET ORDNANCE.

BASTION'S OVERFLOWING
WITH CIVILIAN CAUSALITIES.

THEY CAN'T TAKE OUR BOYS.

IT'S HERE OR NOWHERE, SIR.

HAVE WILL ORDER
A WALKING BLOOD BANK.

YES, SIR.

IF WE DON'T RESTOCK
OUR BLOOD SUPPLY, WE'RE SUNK.

(engines rumbling)

(man) ATTENTION, ATTENTION,

ALL PRESCREENED BLOOD DONORS
TO THE OUTPATIENT CLINIC

OF THE ROLE 3
FOR BLOOD DONATION.

ALL PRESCREENED BLOOD DONORS
TO THE OUTPATIENT CLINIC

OF THE ROLE 3
FOR BLOOD DONATION.

ALL PRESCREENED BLOOD DONORS
TO THE OUTPATIENT CLINIC

OF THE ROLE 3
FOR BLOOD DONATION.

(indistinct conversations)

THINK WE CAN FILL A QUARTER OF
OUR BANK BEFORE THEY GET HERE?

9-LINERS UPDATE, SIR.
E.T.A. 30 MINUTES.

COLONEL MARKS, SIR.

I JUST WANTED TO SAY
BEFORE THEY ARRIVE,

REGARDING PRIVATE BARFORD...
(cell phone ringing)

THAT I RESPECTFULLY DISAGREE
WITH YOUR DECISION, SIR,

AND AFTER WE FINISH TODAY,
I AM FILING A FORMAL COMPLAINT.

SO NOTED.

NO. NO. YOU CAN'T JUST LEAVE
LIKE THAT.

YOU CANNOT PULL ME
OFF OF A SURGERY

WHERE I COULD'VE SAVED A LIFE
AND THEN LEAVE

AS IF NOTHING IS WRONG
OR NOTHING HAPPENED.

YOU SEEM TO BE FORGETTING,
MAJOR...

THAT I MAKE
THE IMPORTANT DECISIONS.

NOW I SUGGEST YOU GET READY.
(lowered voice) HEY.

WE HAVE A MASS CAL COMING IN,
LIMITED BLOOD SUPPLY,

AND NO C.T.

I NEED YOU CLEAR...
AND FOCUSED.

ALL RIGHT?

(Graham) ROLE 3 TASK FORCE,
KANDAHAR SOUTH.

(jet engines roaring)

YOU HAVEN'T EATEN TODAY.

I'M NOT HUNGRY.

YOU SHOULD REALLY TALK TO MARKS,
BECAUSE HE IS OFF HIS ROCKER.

HE'S THE ONE WHO SENT ME
TO TALK TO YOU.

(scoffs)

HE PULLS ME OFF OF A SURGERY
THAT I HAD COMPLETE CONTROL OF,

AND HE SAYS THAT I NEED
A PSYCH EVAL?

WHOA. HE'S SUCH A JERK.

YOU'RE THE MORALE OFFICER.
MAKE A PARTY.

OH, COME ON. HE'S JUST
TRYING TO PUNISH ME.

MAYBE HE'S TRYING
TO HELP YOU.

WELL, I DON'T NEED
ANYBODY'S HELP.
I DISAGREE.

YOU HAVEN'T
BEEN SLEEPING WELL.

BECAUSE YOU SNORE
LIKE A WARTHOG.

(chuckles)
YOU'VE BEEN SKIPPING MEALS.

(helicopter blades whirring)

OKAY. ALL RIGHT.

(mouth full) MMM.
MM-HMM. THERE. OKAY?

(sighs)

HAPPY?

YOU KNOW WHO ARE THE WORST
AROUND HERE, REBECCA?

(sighs)
THE ONES WHO THINK
THEY CAN DO IT ALONE,

WHO KEEP SAYING
THEY'RE FINE.

IF YOU HAVEN'T NOTICED,

THIS ISN'T A PLACE
WHERE PEOPLE ARE FINE.

IF YOU'RE FINE AFTER WHAT
YOU'VE JUST EXPERIENCED,

THERE IS SOMETHING
QUITE WRONG.

(engines rumbling,
helicopter blades whirring)

OKAY.

I-I AM A LITTLE OFF MY GAME.

THIS WHOLE LIMITED RESOURCES--
I AM NOT USED TO IT,

SO JUST GIVE ME A FEW DAYS,
AND I WILL BE...

I WILL BE COPING BETTER.

WELL, IF YOU DON'T WANT
MY HELP,

START COPING WITH THIS.

STOP BEING RIGHT
ABOUT PRIVATE BARFORD.

IT ONLY MAKES YOU ANGRY,
AND BEING ANGRY

MAKES YOU STUPID, AND WE
DON'T NEED A STUPID SURGEON.

OH, AND ANOTHER THING.

WEAR YOUR SPIDER MEDAL.

THAT'S AN ORDER.

(chuckles)

EAT UP.

(scoffs)

(door opens)

(camera shutter clicking)

I'M SORRY.
IS THIS ALL RIGHT WITH YOU?

YEAH, SURE. HEY, WHATEVER
GETS US MORE SUPPORT, RIGHT?

SO HOW LONG YOU HERE FOR?

OH, JUST TILL TOMORROW MORNING.
I PROMISE.

AH, DR. TRANG.
HAIL-FELLOW-WELL-MET.

YOU RUN AN EXCELLENT
WALKING BLOOD BANK.

THOSE COOKIES
ARE FOR THE DONORS.

YEAH, DELICIOUS.
I HEARD YOU MADE THEM.

WELL, I CAN'T DONATE.
I'M A DOCTOR.

I'LL PROBABLY BE ON MY FEET
FOR THE NEXT 24 TO 48 HOURS

SAVING
SOME POOR BUGGER'S LIFE,

SO DON'T I DESERVE A COOKIE?

STOP EATING THE COOKIES.

MWAH.

(kisses)

(laughs) I DON'T GET IT.
I REALLY DON'T.

YOU KNOW, LIKE, HOW DO YOU GET
SO MANY WOMEN?

YOU STEAL COOKIES
FROM THE DONORS, YOU DRINK,

YOU LIE, YOU TREAT WOMEN
LIKE CRAP.

YOU'RE A MISOGYNIST
AND A COOKIE THIEF.

COME HERE.

(clears throat)

LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING
ABOUT WOMEN.

(laughs) OKAY.

SEE... WOMEN,

THEY WANT TO BELIEVE
THAT THEY ARE RIDING

THE WILDEST HORSE
THAT THEY CAN TAME.

(laughs)

THEY WANT STALLIONS,
AND STALLIONS ARE NOT NICE.

WOMEN...

PEOPLE DESERVE RESPECT.

OH, YES, IN FRIENDSHIP.

NOT IN SEX.

SEE, WOMEN ARE NOT
INTO GELDINGS.

YOU ALWAYS SPEAK
IN METAPHORS?
AH, BOBBY.

I MEAN, I MAY BE
A WORLD-RENOWNED NEUROSURGEON,

BUT BEHIND THESE BABY BLUES...
IS A DOUCHE BAG?

IS A POET AT HEART.
(laughs)

(indistinct conversations)

IF YOU WANT ME TO BRING
THE MUSIC TOMORROW,

SAY THE WORD.
THANK YOU.

(camera shutter clicks)

(click)

OKAY. I GIVE.

WHY DO YOU
KEEP TAKING PICTURES OF ME?

YOU'RE
AN INTERESTING SUBJECT.

(indistinct conversations
continue)

WHAT'S THIS?

PEOPLE HAVE A WAY OF LOSING
THEMSELVES IN THIS PLACE.

YOU CAN THANK ME LATER.

(military radio chatter)

(whirring)

YES, SIR, THE TRANSFER
TO KABUL WENT OUT ON TIME.

BURNS AND FRACTURES, SIR.

CHILDREN'S HOSPITAL
IN KABUL.

(whirring continues)

ROGER THAT, SIR.

WHAT HAVE I SAID ABOUT
USING THESE COMPUTERS?

SORRY, SIR. I--

NEXT TIME YOU CONTINUE
TO DISOBEY MY ORDERS,

YOU'LL BE OUT OF A JOB.
DO YOU UNDERSTAND?

YES, SIR.

DO YOU UNDERSTAND?

I'M VERY SORRY, SIR.

(military radio chatter)

(Marks)
YOU ALLOWED HIM TO DO THIS?
SIR, I WAS JUST--

WRONG ANSWER.
MASS CAL E.T.A.?

TEN MINUTES. SORRY, SIR.
I WAS JUST--

NO, NOT NOW.

(siren wailing)

HOW MANY DID THEY SAY?
I HEARD TEN.

(Suzy) SO DID I.
(Will) IT'S GONNA BE
AN ALL-NIGHTER.

I'VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT
THE WHOLE BARFORD SITUATION,

RIGHT, AND SOMETHING'S
JUST REALLY OFF.

LOOK, I'M YOUR FRIEND,

BUT I THINK MARKS MADE
THE RIGHT CALL.

NO. NO, NO, NO. ABOUT--

THE STORY ABOUT HIM TURNING
AROUND TO SAVE THE GIRL.

I MEAN, THE ANGLE OF
THE BULLETS ARE JUST ALL WRONG.

DO YOU THINK?

THERE'S ONLY ONE WAY
WE CAN KNOW FOR SURE.

FIND THE BULLET
I TOOK OUT OF HIM,

AND IF IT'S NATO ORDNANCE,

THEN WE KNOW HE WAS SHOT
BY ONE OF HIS OWN.

OKAY,
EVERYONE TO THEIR STATIONS.

(helicopter blades whirring,
sirens wailing)

ALL RIGHT,
DO WE HAVE ENOUGH BLOOD?

I HOPE TO GOD.

(whirring continues)

4!

READY, TEAM 4?

YEAH, GIVE ME 30 SECS.
FOLLOW ME. BAY 3, LET'S GO.

(woman) SIR, I NEED TO ASK YOU
JUST A FEW QUESTIONS--

WATCH YOURSELF.
WATCH YOURSELF.

(Ford) COMING THROUGH!
(Will) JUST PARK IT RIGHT HERE.
OKAY, YOU, FOLLOW ME.

CHECK HIS AIRWAY
AND THEN HE'S GOOD TO GO.

(Mehra) CAPTAIN, SHRAPNEL
TO THE FACE AND ARMS.

EYE ISN'T LOOKING GOOD.
LOST A FINGER.

B.P. 135 OVER 95,
PULSE 140 BUT STRONG.

MORPHINE AND FLUIDS ON BOARD.
STEADY, YOU TWO.
COME ON. LET'S GO.

LET'S GET THAT E.C.G.
OVER HERE.
(Bobby) MORE COMING IN, HUH?

WAIT FOR THE SUMMER.
IT'LL ONLY GET WORSE.

(Larry)
BREATH SOUNDS BILATERALLY.

OKAY, GET HIM INTO THE I.C.U.

AND THEN MOVE HIM TO THE O.R.
WHEN REBECCA'S FREE. NEXT.

WELCOME TO KANDAHAR.
CAN I GET YOU A SODA AND FRIES?

COMING UP, SOLDIER.

OKAY, LARRY, LET'S HANG, UH,
TWO LARGE-BORE I.V.s

AND GET ME A SET OF VITALS.

WE'LL GET YOU FIXED UP AND OUTTA
HERE IN NO TIME, SOLDIER.

HOW ARE WE ON BLOOD?
THIS IS OUR LAST UNIT.

(man) B.P. IS DROPPING.

(Christine) GOT TWO MORE UNITS
WHOLE BLOOD

FROM THE BLOOD DRIVE.

IT'S JUST IN TIME.

SO THE GUYS ON K.P.
WANT TO KNOW,

IF THEY BRING MORE FOOD
AND DRINKS,

CAN THEY COME TO YOUR PARTY?

OH, YEAH. WHATEVER.
YEAH, THEY CAN COME.

(man) PULSE 82.

B.P. STABLE, 110 OVER 70.

GREAT.

(monitor beeping rhythmically)

(engine rumbling)

(Australian accent)
EXCUSE ME, SIR.

GOT A DELIVERY
FOR A REBECCA GORDON.

YEAH, I'LL DEAL WITH IT.

JUST, UH, BRING IT
AROUND THE CORNER.

(men) SIR!
MORNING.

SIMON, IT'S BEAUTIFUL.

IT'S HANDWOVEN BY THE BEST.

SIMON...

FIND SOMEONE
TO TALK TO.

SOMETHING'S EATING AT YOU.

AND YOU WON'T FIND SOLACE
IN A BOTTLE.

(jet engines roaring)

GONNA MISS YOU.

TILL NEXT TIME.

KEEP YOUR LENSES CLEAN.

IF YOU KEEP
YOUR SCALPEL SHARP.

(laughs)

(helicopter blades whirring)

MAJOR.

WHERE'D YOU EXPECT TO PLUG IN
THAT MECHANICAL BULL?
(water running)

THAT PIECE OF MACHINERY
TAKES UP A LOT OF WATTAGE.

(jet engines roaring)

I WAS THINKING THE C.T. ROOM
NOW THAT THE C.T.'s DOWN.

AND YOU KNOW
YOU CAN'T HAVE A CAMPFIRE

OUTSIDE THE READY ROOM.

YEAH, UM, ABOUT THAT. SEE,
IT'S NOT SO MUCH A CAMPFIRE

AS IT IS A FIRE
IN AN OIL DRUM.

I MEAN, I WOULD LOVE TO STAGE IT
ON THE MAIN GROUNDS,

BUT I ONLY
HAD FOUR DAYS NOTICE AND...

AND YOU DON'T KNOW THE RIGHT
CHANNELS TO GO THROUGH.

OH, WELL, I MEAN,

I DOUBT ANYBODY COULD GET
THAT SPACE THIS SOON.

YOU PLAYING ME, DOCTOR?

WHAT'S GOOD
FOR THE MORALE...

OKAY.

I'LL GET YOU YOUR CAMPFIRE
AND YOUR SPACE.

YOU GOOD FOR FOOD
OR ANY OTHER ESSENTIALS?

I WILL BE
BY THE END OF THE DAY.

ALL RIGHT.

DR. GORDON.

YES.

WHAT, THAT'S IT?
I GET IT BACK? NO TRIAL?

IT WASN'T
AN ACCIDENTAL DISCHARGE, MA'AM.

YOU SHOT A SPIDER.

(clicks)

WHY, THANK YOU.

(indistinct conversations)

THE C.T. TECH SAID HE SAW VANS
RUNNING FROM THE ROOM,

AND HE WENT INSIDE,
HE FOUND THIS.

CHECK OUT THE BACK.

(indistinct conversations)

WHAT THE HELL?

THE TECH WAS WORRIED,
SO HE CHECKED OUT THE SCANNER.

IT'S WORKING NOW.

FOUND A SOLDERING GUN,
CIRCUIT SPECS,

AND A BURNT-OUT TRANSISTOR.
SON OF A...

VANS FIXED THE SCANNER?

HE'S ONLY 17.
WHERE IS HE?

(chuckles) HE TOOK OFF.
WELL, FIND HIM.

AND LET EVERYONE KNOW
THE C.T.'s OPEN FOR BUSINESS.

(chuckles)

(Bobby) THIS IS NOT GOOD.

NO, IT'S A COALITION BULLET.
BARFORD WAS SHOT BY HIS OWN.

THAT "WHOLE TURNING AROUND
TO SAVE A GIRL" WAS A LIE.

YEAH, AND I BET YOU
IT WAS GLEED,

AND PRIVATE JENKINS
KNOWS ABOUT IT.

(jet engines roaring)

VANS.
(door opens)

COME ON IN.
(door closes)

SIT DOWN.

I'M GLAD YOU CAME.

SO WHO TAUGHT YOU
HOW TO FIX A C.T. SCANNER?

SERGEANTS P.J. FORD
AND P.J. MEHRA

TAUGHT ME HOW TO FIX
MY COMPUTER.

YOUR COMPUTER'S BROKEN?
THE ONE THAT I GAVE YOU?
NOT ANYMORE.

AND THEN I THOUGHT,
IF I COULD FIX THE COMPUTER--

VANS, USUALLY I DO THIS
IN FRONT OF A LOT OF PEOPLE,

BUT I DON'T WANT
THE OTHER INTERPRETERS

TO GET JEALOUS,

'CAUSE I KNOW HOW HARD IT IS
FOR YOU TO BE DOING THIS

AT SUCH A YOUNG AGE.

BASHIR AL-ADEEB,
ALSO KNOWN AS VANS...

IN HONOR OF THE GREAT SERVICE
YOU PERFORMED FOR US

AND THE MANY INJURED SOLDIERS
WHO WERE HELPED,

I AM PROUD
TO PRESENT TO YOU

THIS CANADIAN FORCES
COMMENDATION.

CONGRATULATIONS, VANS.

THANK YOU, SIR.

ONE MORE THING.

DO NOT USE MY NAME
AS YOUR ONLINE IDENTITY!

YES, SIR.
(jet engines roaring)

OKAY.

(door opens)

YOU TWO NEED SOMETHING?

PRIVATE BARFORD WAS SHOT
BY HIS OWN TROOPS.

WHO DO WE REPORT THIS TO?

JUST LET INTELLIGENCE
HANDLE IT.

WHAT WILL THEY DO?
PROBABLY NOTHING.

WHAT?

NO, THE PERSON WHO SHOT HIM
NEEDS TO BE HELD RESPONSIBLE.

SOMETIMES THINGS HAPPEN
IN THE HEAT OF THE MOMENT.

WHAT KIND OF A PLACE
IS THIS?

(Bobby) REBECCA--
NO.

REBECCA.
(Will) JUST LET HER GO.

REBECCA, I HEAR THE PARTY'S
SHAPING UP PRETTY WELL.

THIS IS WHAT WE PULLED OUT
OF PRIVATE BARFORD.

HE WAS SHOT
BY HIS OWN TROOPS.

I UNDERSTAND YOUR CONCERN.

NO, TRY OUTRAGE.

HIS SERGEANT IS MAKING UP
SOME COCKAMAMY STORY,

AND IF YOU ASK ME, I THINK
HE'S THE ONE WHO DID IT.

JUST LEAVE IT WITH ME.

BUT... NO, WHY IS EVERYBODY
TRYING TO COVER THIS UP?

I-I-I DON'T UNDERSTAND.

BARFORD DIED, AND HE WAS
KILLED BY ONE OF HIS BUDDIES,

ONE OF HIS OWN TROOPS
KILLED HIM.

NO, MAJOR. ONE OF HIS TROOPS
DID NOT KILL HIM. I DID.

NOW I'M GONNA
TAKE THAT BACK FOR YOU,

'CAUSE IF INTELLIGENCE
FINDS OUT YOU STOLE IT,

YOU'LL BE IN TROUBLE,

AND I ALREADY
CALLED IN A MARKER

TO BAIL YOU OUT
FOR DISCHARGING YOUR WEAPON.

I DON'T THINK I COULD HELP YOU
TWICE IN ONE DAY.

ANYTHING ELSE?

NO, SIR.

(jet engines roaring)

(door closes)

(Jim Croce's "I Got a Name"
playing)

HE'S IN YOUR OFFICE.

THANKS.

(Mehra and Ford)
* MOVIN' ME DOWN THE HIGHWAY *

* ROLLIN' ME DOWN THE HIGHWAY *

* MOVIN' AHEAD SO LIFE
WON'T PASS ME BY *

NO, NO.

YOU CAN RHYME.
ALL RIGHT.
(laughs)

* LIKE THE NORTH WIND
WHISTLIN' DOWN THE SKY *

* I'VE GOT A SONG *

* I'VE GOT A SONG *

(man) WHOO!

* LIKE THE WHIP-POOR-WILL
AND THE BABY'S CRY *

OH... AND CRASH.

* I'VE GOT A SONG *

* I'VE GOT A SONG *

WHOA. OH!

(laughs)

(laughs)

BLESS HIS BULL.
(laughs)

* IF IT GETS ME NOWHERE *

REBECCA REALLY
PULLED IT TOGETHER.

WHERE IS SHE?

I DON'T KNOW.

* ROLLIN' ME DOWN THE HIGHWAY,
ROLLIN' ME DOWN THE HIGHWAY *

AT EASE.

* ...LIFE WON'T PASS ME BY *

YOU WERE WITH GRAHAM BARFORD.

YES, SIR. I...

SO WHAT HAPPENED WITH YOU
AND GRAHAM AND SERGEANT GLEED?

(knock on door)

***

PLEASE, SIR.
A WORD, IF I MAY.

***

PLEASE, SIR.
I KNOW I SHOULDN'T ASK,

BUT BARFORD AND JENKINS
WERE BEST MATES.

IT'S TOUGH ENOUGH KNOWING
YOUR BEST FRIEND IS GONE.

JENKINS IS A GOOD SOLDIER.
HE IS A GOOD LAD, SIR.

IT WAS NOT HIS FAULT.

YOU KNOW HOW CRAZY
IT CAN GET OUT THERE.

IT'S HIS FIRST TOUR.

THEY WERE ALL CONFUSED.

PLEASE, SIR,
AS HIS SECTION COMMANDER,

IT'S ON ME, NOT HIM.

(jet engines roaring)

***

(Ford and Mehra)
* THEY CAN CHANGE THEIR MINDS *

* BUT THEY CAN'T CHANGE ME *

(jet engines roaring)

(Pedersen) HI.

HEY.
YOU'RE MISSING YOUR PARTY.

NO, UM... (clears throat)

I PLANNED IT. DOES NOT MEAN
I HAVE TO GO TO IT.

CAN I PLEASE HAVE
SOME PRIVACY?

YEAH.

BY THE WAY, YOU, UH,

YOU NEVER EXPLAINED THE MEANING
OF THE STONE SOUP.

OH.

IF I TELL YOU,
WILL YOU LEAVE?

* MOVIN' ME DOWN THE HIGHWAY *

FAIR ENOUGH.

PRIVATE...

WHAT HAPPENED?

* ...WON'T PASS ME BY *

I HEARD SNIPER SHOTS.

I FELT ONE OF THEM
WHIZZING BY ME,

LIKE A CRACK BY MY HEAD.

I DIDN'T KNOW WHERE
THEY WERE COMING FROM.

I SAW PEOPLE
RUNNING EVERYWHERE.

I KNOW SERGEANT GLEED SAYS
I SHOULDN'T BLAME MYSELF.

BUT EVERYTHING
WAS JUST SO CRAZY.

I SAW SOMEBODY RUNNING AT ME,
AND I THOUGHT...

I THOUGHT...
YOU FIRED.

(exhales)

SON, YOU SHOULD KNOW
THE BULLET WENT WIDE.

WHAT?

YOUR SERGEANT WAS CONCERNED
YOU MIGHT BE BLAMING YOURSELF,

SO WE CHECKED THAT BULLET
THAT KILLED BARFORD.

IT CAME FROM AN AK-47.

YOU'RE NOT LYING, SIR?

PRIVATE, I'M A COLONEL
IN THE CANADIAN ARMED FORCES.

I DON'T LIE
ABOUT THESE THINGS.

IT WENT WIDE?
I-I DIDN'T SHOOT HIM?

IT WAS AN AK-47 BULLET,
SERGEANT. NOT ONE OF OURS.

(Marks) THAT'S RIGHT.
YOU DIDN'T SHOOT BARFORD.

YOU DIDN'T SHOOT
YOUR GOOD FRIEND.
THANK YOU, SIR.

(sniffles) THANK YOU.

ATTENTION.

NOW YOU TAKE IT EASY.

I KNOW YOU JUST LOST
A GOOD FRIEND.

ALL RIGHT?

THANK YOU, SIR.
I DON'T KNOW WHAT--

AH, GO.
IT'S BEEN A LONG DAY.

(Rebecca)
THERE'S A-A FAMINE GOING ON,

AND A TRAMP COMES INTO TOWN,
STARVING.

SO HE ASKS THE VILLAGERS
FOR FOOD, BUT THEY ALL TURN AWAY

BECAUSE NO ONE HAS
ANYTHING TO SPARE.

SO HE PULLS OUT A COOKING POT,
STARTS A FIRE,

FILLS THE POT WITH WATER,
AND PUTS A STONE IN IT.

I THINK
YOU LOST ME ALREADY.

SO SOON, ALL THE VILLAGERS

ARE COMING BY
TO SEE WHAT HE'S DOING,

AND HE SAYS, "WELL,
I'M MAKING STONE SOUP.

"AND IT'S GONNA BE DELICIOUS.

BUT DO YOU KNOW
WHAT WOULD MAKE IT BETTER?"

REAL SOUP?

***

MEAT. HE SAID MEAT
WOULD MAKE IT BETTER.

SO ONE GUYS SAYS,
"WELL, IF I BRING MEAT

TO ADD TO YOUR SOUP,
CAN I HAVE SOME?"

AND THE TRAMP SAYS, "YES."

SO PRETTY SOON ALL THE VILLAGERS
ARE VOLUNTEERING THINGS

TO ADD TO THE SOUP
SO THAT THEY CAN HAVE SOME.

GET IT?
EVERYONE GETS TO EAT

AND THE TRAMP
GETS A FREE MEAL.

THAT'S A LOVELY STORY.

IT'S GREAT. I MEAN, IT'S ALL
ABOUT GREED AND DECEPTION BUT...

I THOUGHT IT WAS ABOUT

HOW A GROUP OF PEOPLE
WITH VERY LITTLE

COULD PULL TOGETHER AND MAKE
SOMETHING QUITE WONDERFUL.

***

I AM JUST NOT FEELING

THE "GLASS IS HALF FULL"
RIGHT NOW.

SO...

***

(men and women laughing
and speaking indistinctly)

(grunts)

COULD YOU GET OUR GAL
A-A DRINK, CAPTAIN?

***

(people cheering
and speaking indistinctly)

(man) WHOO!

***

(door closes)

(cries)

(cheering)

***

(cheering continues)

(indistinct conversations)