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Registered User
Joined: Jan 2003
Location: Garland, Texas
Age: 41
Posts: 37
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Hot Shots! The Comedic Stylings of Admiral Benson
Admiral Benson:I slipped on a crab. Who put that crab there?
Lt. Commander Block: I don't see any crab.
Admiral Benson: Don't tell me. There were two crabs they work in pairs.
Admiral Benson: Call down to the galley and order up some soup.
Lt. Commander Block: Yes, sir.
Admiral Benson: Ahhh...I love soup. At least I think I love soup. Blasted shell! It's either soup or duck. Which one do you shoot?
Lt. Commander Block: Duck, sir.
[Admiral Benson hits head on desk while ducking]
Lt. Commander Block: Are you alright, sir?
Admiral Benson: Of course I'm alright! Why, what have you heard?
Admiral Benson: I would like to thank you for having us over for dinner last night. Cheryl and I thought the stroganoff was wonderful.
Lt. Commander Block: But sir, we didn't have you over for dinner last night.
Admiral Benson: Oh, very well. Then, where the hell was I? And who's Cheryl?
Admiral Benson : My eyes are ceramic. Caught a bazooka round at Little Big Horn. Or was it Okinawa? The one without the Indians.
Admiral Benson: Pete 'Dead Meat' Thompson is dead. So is Mo Green, Tataglia, Barzini, the heads of all the five families. It is at moments like these, my dear friends, that we must ask ourselves: "How can this not be part of some larger plan?" Do good men like Dead Meat Thompson just blink out one day like a bad bulb? I mean, one minute you're in bed with a knockout gal... or guy, and the next, you're a compost heap. Doesn't that bother any of you? Because it scares the living piss outta me!
[Admiral Benson comes into the briefing room in riding pants]
Admiral Benson: Be seated! Ah... Many of you are wondering what's wrong with my pants, well they started running short on materials right before they got to the knees so don't give me any shit. Ah. I look out there on all you wonderful guys and I say to myself "What I wouldn't give to be 20 years younger ... and a woman". You know, I've personally flown over 194 missions and I was shot down on every one. Come to think of it, I've never landed a plane in my life.
Admiral Benson>: You risked the lives of some damn fine pilots ... and that's my job!
Lt. Commander Block : How are ya, sir?
Admiral Benson>: Hawaii? Goddamn it, Bill, I'm supposed to be in California.
Lt. Commander Block : No, sir, this is California.
Admiral Benson>: Well, gotta run. Good luck.
Lt. Commander Block : But, sir, this is your command.
Lt. Commander Block: Every aerial photo and recon report indicate a defensive arsenal in the D, and perhaps negative C, categories. There's also some anti-aircraft squadrons. They can send up an ack-ack umbrella high enough to make any attack ineffective.
Admiral Benson>: I don't have a clue what you're talkin' about, Phil. Not a ****ing clue. I have a shell the size of a fist in my head. Pork Chop Hill. The only way I can make this goddamn toupee to stay on is by magnetizing the entire upper left quadrant of my skull, so you just go ahead and do what you do.
[Jets start their engines]
Admiral Benson>: Got, that's loud. My ear canals are very sensitive. They're stainless steel. Took a bullet in Corregidor. Passed straight through.
[air controller gets his earplugs out]
Air Controller : We have these to hold down the sound, sir.
Admiral Benson>: Oh, good. Thanks.
[swallows the earplugs]
Admiral Benson>: Let's hope they do the trick.
Admiral Benson>: God, I love a good funeral!
Admiral Benson>: Thompson wasn't that good a pilot, anyway. He only had a small family. The kids are a pain in the ass. The wife's on the sauce. Hell, poor bastard's better off dead. What size shoes do you wear?
Lt. Commander Block >: A nine, sir.
Admiral Benson>: Good. It's settled then. We'll send Harley to the front.
Admiral Benson>: Gentlemen, we've waited a long time to hear this. In exactly five hours and 17 minutes, we hit the enemy toast.
Lt. Commander Block: I think that's the enemy coast, sir.
Admiral Benson>: Huh? Coast? That'll take a little more planning. But it doesn't matter. Our assignment is to knock out the nuclear-weapons plant at Falafel Heights. The plant goes on line in 12 hours and is heavily defended. Now, if you have trouble hitting your objective, you secondary targets are here and here: an accordion factory and a mime school. Good luck, gentlemen. Blink, take over. Oh, there's one more thing. (admiral gets accidentally hit by a metal pipe with a loud ringing sound). I'll get that. It's probably for me.
Jim 'Wash Out' Pfaffenbach: Looks like enemy aircraft at 12 o'clock.
Admiral Benson>: Really? 12 o'clock? Well, that gives us about...
[checks his watch]
Admiral Benson>: 25 minutes. Think I'll step out for a burger.
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