Full Metal Jacket Page #6

Pyle! Move it up! You climb

obstacles like old people f***. Do you

know

that, Private Pyle? Get up here! You're too

slow! Move it,

move it! Private Pyle, whatever

you do, don't fall down! That

would

break my f***ing heart! Quickly!

PYLE freezes at the top.

HARTMAN:

Up and over! Up and over! Well, what in the

f*** are

you waiting for, Private Pyle? Get

up and over! Move it, move it,

move it! Are

you quitting on me? Well, are you! Then quit

you

slimy f***ing walrus-looking piece of

sh*t! Get the f*** off my

obstacle! Get the

f*** down off of my obstacle! Now!

PYLE climbs

back down his side of the obstacle.

HARTMAN:

Move it!

I'm gonna rip your balls off so you

cannot contaminate the rest of

the world! I

will motivate you, Private Pyle, if it short-

d*cks every cannibal on the Congo!

17 EXT. ROAD--DAY

The platoon is

irregularly strung out on a road

nearing the end of a rapid, forced

march.

PYLE is at the end of the line ready to drop.

Supported by

JOKER, PYLE Staggers along as

HARTMAN bellows at him.

HARTMAN:

Pick'em up and set'em down, Pyle!

Quickly! Move it up!

Were you born a fat

slimy scumbag, you piece of sh*t, Private

Pyle? Or did you have to work on it? Move

it up! Quickly! Hustle up!

The f***ing war

will be over by the time we get out there,

won't it, Private Pyle?

HARTMAN gives PYLE a shove.

HARTMAN:

Move it!

PYLE gasps for breath.

HARTMAN:

Are you going to f***ing die, Pyle? Are you

going to die on me!! Do

it now! Move it up!

Hustle it up! Quickly, quickly, quickly! Do

you feel dizzy? Do you feel faint? Jesus H.

Christ, I think you've

got a hard-on!

18 EXT. MUD OBSTACLE--DAY

The platoon tries to run,

through the mud. PYLE

half carried by JOKER and COWBOY falls taking

JOKER down with him.

HARTMAN:

Quickly ladies! A**holes

and elbows! Move it

out! Get up there! Move it! Move it, move it,

move it!

19 INT. BARRACKS--PRE-DAWN

HARTMAN and two Junior Drill

Instructors stride

into the Squad Bay. The lights go on. HARTMAN

bangs loudly on an empty metal garbage can which

he carries into the

room.

HARTMAN:

Reveille! Reveille! Reveille! Drop your

c*cks

and grab your socks! Today is Sunday! Divine

worship at

zero-eight-hundred! Get your

bunks made and get your uniforms on.

Police

call will commence in two minutes!

HARTMAN stops in front

of JOKER's bunk.

HARTMAN:

Private Cowboy! Private Joker!

COWBOY:

Sir, yes, sir!

JOKER:

Sir, yes, sir!

HARTMAN:

As soon as you finish your bunks, I want you

two turds

to clean the head.

JOKER & COWBOY

(in unison)

Sir, aye-aye, sir!

HARTMAN:

I want that head so sanitary

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