The Ninth Configuration Page #4

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- No no, no I don't.

Pack up and leave, Hud.

I've had it!

Cutshaw,

why won't you go to the moon?

Why do camels have humps... and cobras, none?

Why won't you go?

The man in the moon tried to f*** my sister.

- Cutshaw...

- The truth of the matter, is that Custer...

... called Sitting Bull a spic.

Reasons are dangerous.

What the hell is this?

"How I believe" by Teilhard?

Show me a catholic,

and I'll show you a junkie.

Dr. Fell.

Once again that fiendish man has

given me that horrible Mark of Fairbanks.

Look, I am Bleeding.

This wound's not self-inflicted?

Mi coronelito...

You are not well.

- No, I'm fine.Thank you.

- Your coloring...

... is absolutely bilious.

Kane, look out!

I want your name, batch number and

name of every other boar in your group.

You have the right to remain silent.

No a Portrait of Jenny, perhaps..

but atleast, no more Dorian Gray!

Ciao!

I know you want to be an artist.

Okay, I'm absolutely ready for my

ink-blot test now. I absolutely flips me!

Now, while you're fresh with

all those roses in your cheeks...

- Cutshaw...

- He's a psychiatrist!

"My god Rick, help me!"

Casablanca.

Alright Cutshaw, please sit down.

What do you see?

An old woman in funny clothes blowing

poisoned darts at a buffalo.

Bison.

I'm waiting.

My whole life rushing past me in an instant.

- This one?

- Kafka talking to a bedbug.

Correct.

- You're full of sh*t. You know that?

- I thought it was Kafka.

You wouldn't know Kafka

from Betty Davis.

And you, you're a mental case.

- Yes, maybe I am.

- Ingratiating bastard.

Do you always play kiss-ass

with the loonies?

- No.

- I like you Kane, You're regular.

Take the medal,

I'll take this book.

What book?

"I Remember Mamma"

by Oedipus Rex.

- May I go?

- You're gone, you're gone...

- Saint Christopher.

- Protect us.

- There's something engraved on the back of it.

- Ora pro nobis?

"I'm a buddhist...

... In case of an accident, call a lama"

What's Cutshaw's religion?

I don't know.

Read the file; it's all in the file.

Elementary psychology.

Well, here are my pants.

What's this?

I think it's a dog.

Goddammit, not the pants!

Ah, there you are!

Why do I have to put up with your

temperament this early in the morning?

Sorry Colonel. It's hard to keep track of -

- Major Groper, let it be.

- But Colonel!

Alright. The men may see me whenever they need to.

You heard?

Whatever you say, sir.

Quit drinking buttermilk Daiquiris

in the closet, Groper.

That man is a lunatic and dangerous.

Once when I was walking the grounds,

I hear his whispering and I look...

And up in the branches of a cypress tree

there's Groper the crazy bastard

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