Cigarette Soup

Oh, hey there, buddy.

Hey, what's going on?

What are you up to?

That's your question?

You a big-time reporter man, that's what you come up with?

All right, fine. How many drinks have you had?

What are you, like six deep right now?

Too many.

Where's your imaginary girlfriend?

- Oh, ah-ha-ha ha-ha. - What's her name, Sarah?

Give me that thing.

Ah ha! Now the tables have turned.

It's my turn to make you squirm.

How about you start by telling us a little bit about yourself?

I hate you.

Uh, what do you wanna know?

My name is Sam Grady. I'm from Greenville, Ohio,

population closing in on 15,000.

Uh... I'm a reporter for our local news station, channel one.

- There, you happy? - Why are we all here?

Well, I think you're here to wish me luck,

send me off in style. At least I hope so.

Oh, where are you going?

I recently volunteered to document the war in Afghanistan.

I've been assigned to a specific army unit,

and I'm gonna be following those guys around

for the next few months.

- That's a brave thing you're doing. - Thanks.

Why are you doing that?

It's something that needs to be done.

And I wanna show all of you out there

who these guys really are,

and not just what you see on TV, but who they are right here.

And this woman right here put this whole shindig together

to send me off the right way. Isn't that right?

She's the world's greatest woman.

The most bestest mom.

- Sam, not now, okay? - Come on, mom.

Say something into the camera.

- I can't. - Mom!

Come on, mom.

So here I am.

It's my third official day in Afghanistan.

Whoo!

The weather has been insanely hot.

Windy, but hot. The nights have been freezing.

I've been practicing digging my fighting hole

from when we're out in the desert and we need to catch some shut eye.

But I guess if we're in the middle of combat,

not gonna be much time for sleeping anyways.

So, right now, we're all riding in the back of an old

piece of shit pick-up truck.

We're on our way to a foot patrol.

It's as good as it gets, baby.

- It's as good as it gets. - I guess so.

So we're still on our F.O.B.

- "Fob", dude. - Fob?

- Fob. - Fob.

Okay, so we're still on our fob,

driving to the end of the wire.

We're gonna get picked up by an mrap.

They're gonna drive us approximately 10 miles.

From there we're gonna start the foot patrol.

I guess, from what they're saying,

we're gonna be out there for about six hours.

That's gonna be well into the night.

My very first foot patrol.

Can't wait.

This has gotta be the coolest thing I've ever seen.

I mean, look at these people, their houses...

It's amazing. It's so different than home.

You think this is weird, check out lennie's cock.

That thing's like a fucking science project.

That's true.

Oh, I'm good, thanks.

Man, you call it weird, I call it unique.

That's like telling a fat chick she's got...

- Go fuck yourself. - Oh!

Could you imagine being able to actually fuck yourself?

I would just fuck myself whenever I liked.

How would that even work?

I'd fucking stick my dick in my own asshole.

I don't know, shut the fuck up.

Easy boy. You're gonna scare Geraldo up in the front seat.

Yo, Geraldo, who's dick did you have to suck

- to ride shotgun, anyway? - For real.

I give a pretty mean bj to somebody riding up there,

and I've never gotten to ride shotgun.

Oh, my god, you guys always make gay comments.

Yeah, pretty much.

Hey, do you wanna shut your fucking hole

back there, please?

Jesus Christ.

All right, let's take five.

All right, men, you heard him!

Let's take five down here in this ravine.

Eyes up, boys.

Goddamn it is windy as fuck out here.

Goddamn it.

Hey, you might wanna keep your fucking head down.

Keep popping up and down, you're gonna end up

like those last two fucking guys.

What happened to them?

Those reporters? Taliban, bro.

Killed by the fucking Taliban.

I saw the whole gruesome thing.

That shit was crazy. It was fucked up.

- Is he serious? - Dead fucking serious, bro.

- For real. - Hey, I'm just fucking with you, man.

- Lighten up, jeez. - He's not serious.

Listen, those last two guys were a couple of pussies.

I mean, even a vagina would have been like,

"goddamn, these guys are pussies." Seriously.

I think a vagina said that to them.

- I think it did. - Like I heard it.

- Unironically. - Yeah, it was totally dead serious.

The pussy was like...

- You don't see that's... - Yeah, I got it.

- Hey, don't be a pussy. - No, I know you do.

"I don't want a pussy in my pussy."

- It's his job to harass a reporter, all right? - Yeah, uh-huh.

It's so hot out here, I don't know how you guys can think about vagina.

All I can think about is sweating my balls off.

Yeah, no kidding, it's hot. No doubt.

- What? - What's going on?

What's going on?

Sorry.

Is it okay to tell me what the mission is?

We're on area reconnaissance patrol

checking out this specific area, looking at the terrain,

seeing what type of transportation support we might need,

equipment, weapons, shit like that.

It's highly unlikely we're gonna run into any enemy out here.

It's the bullshit job no one wants

because it's fucking boring.

It's true.

I'm having a great time.

Nonetheless, it's the job we've been ordered to do, men,

- and we're gonna do it. - Yeah.

It's bullshit, man, that's all it is,

- is fucking bullshit. - Why do you think it's bullshit?

'Cause monti knows he should be out fucking killing bad guys.

- Amen. - Amen.

'Cause, you know, anybody can do this job right here.

My retarded little brother could do this in his sleep.

Wait, wait. You have a fucking retarded brother?

That means that your mom's pussy

is a conveyor belt for retarded humans.

Like, it's like a factory of mass produced retarded humans.

The hand of god touched my mom's vagina twice.

- What in the fuck are you guys doing? - Sorry, sergeant.

We are on a goddamn mission here

and you guys are horsing around

like a bunch of goddamn idiots.

Are you a bunch of dumb fucking monkeys?

Stay focused. Do you understand?

Got it.

Jackson, you guys hear me down there?

- Oorah! - Oorah!

All right, one of our patrols came under some light fire

about two kilometers from here.

Why aren't we helping our guys out?

We're not going anywhere. That's a negative.

We got a young, inexperienced journalist with us here.

We gotta keep an eye on him.

Are you kidding?

Does it look like I'm fucking kidding you, Montgomery?

Do you see me smiling, huh? Am I fucking laughing?

Look at me when I'm talking to you.

All right, listen up.

Apparently one of our guys

got a little trigger happy back there

and he greased a civilian.

We've been over the r.O.E a million goddamn times,

but let me reiterate, no one is allowed

to shoot anyone who is unarmed.

No one is allowed to shoot anyone

unless you are absolutely certain

without a shadow of a goddamn doubt

that they pose an immediate threat to us.

Got it?

Hooah.

Good.

All right, let's move out.

- Move out, guys. - Let's line it up.

All right, so we're now entering hour four of patrol.

We haven't seen a single civilian,

we haven't seen anything at all, actually.

Guess I can understand why these guys say

this is such a boring mission.

At least it's not so hot anymore though.

Just tired from carrying around this equipment all day.

I know it's been a rough one for you, Geraldo,

but when we get back to base, I'm gonna give you

the fucking best hand job you've ever had in Afghanistan.

- Oh, stop. - Ask butch.

- He fucking felt it. - Fuck you.

Everybody down!

- Shit. - Anybody hit?

Montgomery, mills, take security.