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Dataset card Data Studio Files
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Me? I'm walking with my hound, Lucy, it's about an hour 'fore sunrise and we're out huntin' coon. I got me a flask of pure Kentucky mash whiskey...
Jackson, how many times I got to tell you, you're from Tennessee.
I am, but I like imported whiskey. So there I am and I hear the biggest ole' coon you ever did hear, 'a rustlin' right there in front of me. That ole' boy comes right out of the brush, I got a clear shot and he knows he's 'bout to meet his maker. I aim, I got my finger tight on the trigger and then I just smile and say to that ole' coon, go on, now, you get out 'a here. Then I sit down on a hollow log and take me a right long pull a' that mash whiskey.
So, where are you from?
You writin' a book or somethin'?
As a matter of fact, I am.
Figured.
I'm Jackson. I'm from West Fork, Tennessee. My pappy's a preacher. Him and his two brothers got a ministry, The Blessed Church of the Wandering Gospel.
In West Fork?
In the back of a nineteen and thirty one stretch Hudson with a big ole' trailer.
No kidding.
I don't make jokes about things of, or related to, the preaching of the Holy Gospel, including the ministerial calling of my family.
So they travel around from place to place and preach?
We got us a tent, fortytwo feet across, eighteen feet at center, hundredandten foldin' chairs. Circuit's eleven towns, covers all 'a Hasset County and most 'a Weller County. I expect that upon completion of my military service I will be joinin' said ministry.
What about the Captain? Where's he from?
Thirtyoughtsix, Norton longbarrel with dualgroove, parallel rifling, elevated threeglass scope and a singlethrow hammer.
The Army gave you that?
Yep.
You must be a hell a shot.
Not where I come from.
That must be four thousand yards.
Fortytwohundred, I figure.
You take account of the wind?
Did you see what he did, back there? He stepped right into the open, so I could get across.
Shit, that was no big deal.
Find a chaplain.
...alright, let me know when.
Report.
Sector four is secured, we put out the last three German onefiftyfives, found them about two miles in from Ponte du Hoc.
Resistance?
A company, Wehrmacht, no artillery, we took twentythree prisoners, turned them over to intelligence.
Casualties?
Fourtyfour, twenty one dead.
They didn't want to give up those onefiftyfives, sir.
It was a hard assignment, that's why you got it.
Yes, sir.
Where are your men now?
Pinned down, a mile east of here, waiting for some help from the navy guns.
I'm sending Simpson to take over for you, the division is going to Caen, you're not coming with us, I have something else for you.
Sir?
There's a Private James Ryan who parachuted in with the Hundredand First near Ramelle. I want you to take a squad up there. If he's alive, bring him back to the beach for debarkation. Take whoever you need, you've got your pick of the company.
A private, sir?
He's the last of four brothers, the other three were killed in action. This is straight from the Chief of Staff.
But, sir...I...I...
Spit it out, Captain.
Respectfully, sir, sending men all the way up to Ramelle to save one private doesn't make a fucking, goddamned bit of sense. Sir.
Alright, I'll give you that. Continue.
The numbers don't make sense, sir. His brothers are dead, that's too bad, but they're out of the equation. Sending men up there is bleeding heart crapola from three thousand miles away. One private is simply not worth a squad. Colonel anderson This one is. He's worth a lot more than that. Which is why I'm sending you, you're the best field officer there is.
Good luck, John.
Thank you, sir.
Danny, listen up. Here's the deal ... my wife's pimp knows a guy who works at Cedars Sinai medical lab. They're getting a very special delivery a week from this Friday.
What is it, drugs?
Better than drugs.
What is that? Rum and coke?
Don't worry about it.
I just want to be straight on the details. Can I taste it?
No, you can't taste it. It's the fucking lab! Now shut up.
Jesus Jimmy, you at the alpha team.
I thought you were done.
You thinking what I'm thinking?
Yeah. This could be the one we're looking for.
And believe me, word will get out that you're a pro rat.
That's not good in prison. It's just not good.
Golly, I hadn't thought of that.
Don't we always take good care of you?
She's 57 and she's been teaching third grade for the last 33 years.
Now that's scary!
We're in business.
Good work, Flynne. You're a firstrate rat.
Just make sure you hit the floor when we come in. It could get ugly in there.
Yeah, I'd hate to shoot you by accident.
Where's Bubba?
Maybe he isn't showing.
A virtuoso rendition. TOM VAN ALLEN is nothing short of dazzling in his interpretation of Miles Davis' haunting, moody piece.
Thank you. Thank you very much.
And he has a really hot ass with hardly any hair on it.
Again, I thank you.
I was talking about Miles.
You, madam, are a heartless wench.
And you've got wiener breath.
Really?
It's that disgusting hot dog you had for lunch.
Tom, let's spend the night here.
There's no motels around here.
No. Right here on the beach. Come on. Let's do it.
Why didn't you just ask for directions back there?
Come on, where's your pioneer spirit?
You mean like the Donner Party?
Hey, do you think you could eat me if you had to? And if so, which part do you think you would find the most delicious?
Tom, quit fucking around.
Okay, okay. There's a house up there. I'll go ask for directions.
You think that's a good idea?
What do you mean?
Look at that place. It's creepy.
First you want me to ask for directions, then you don't. Which is it?
I wanted you to ask back there. You know, before you got us lost.
Just no pleasing you, is there?
Just admit you're wrong.
We all know how much you like hearing that. Okay, Liz, I was wrong. There. You happy?
Quit feeling sorry for yourself, Tom. It gets old.