98o: Ray Romano / The Corrs
[ open on stock war footage ]
[ SUPER: "Somewhere in France 1944" ]
[ dissolve to billowing smoke rising near a foxhole, as gunfire echoes in the background. A soldier plays music on his harmonica. ]
Sarge: Alright, there's two S.S. units right over the river! And I think I can see a pansar tag camoflauge in that burned-out farm house. Preston, any luck with that radio?
Preston: The radio's busted. Now get off my back, Sarge!
Sarge: Hey! Don't you GET it?! We're gonna DIE unless we get support! There's NO WAY out of here!!
Petracelli: Hey, lay off him, man!
Soldier: Hey - I know we're gonna make it out - I can't think any other way, or I'm gonna go insane!
Peterson: Hey, you know what the first thing I'm gonna do when I get out of here is?
Sarge: What's that, Peterson?
Peterson: I'm gonna go home to my Mary Ellen, and love her forever. [ kisses her photo ]
Soldier: It sounds like heaven, man.
Preston: I'll tell you - the first thing I'm gonna do? I'm gonna try out for the Cleveland Indians. Then, I'm gonna hit a home run off of St. Louis in the world Series!
Sarge: I look forward to hearing that on the radio, kid.
[ everyone shows a round of support for his dream ]
Soldier: Hey! I'm gonna open up a restaurant! And I want all you Joe's to be there opening night! We'll eat pasta fasul and drink wine 'til the sun comes up!
Preston: That sounds like the greatest night ever!
Petracelli: You know what the first thing I'm gonna do is when I get out of here?
Sarge: What's that, Petracelli?
Petracelli: Right away - as soon as I get off the plane - I'm gonna enter a nice, refreshing hot dog eating contest, and eat, like, eighty hot dogs in ten minutes. Then, when it's all over, I'll vomit up all the hot dogs and be, like, "Whazzup? I just came in third?"
[ the other soldiers are taken aback, but try to be supportive ]
Preston: Huh? Hot dogs are good, I guess.
Petracelli: Then I'm gonna get some pants that are way too tight for me, and a red silk tank top, and I'm gonna cruise around the parks looking for little cute boys.
[ the soldiers are speechless ]
Soldier: Hey, that's messed up.
Petracelli: Yeah? Well, it's MY DREAM, man!! So, lay OFF it!! [ pauses ] Then I'm gonna get a nice little house, with a white picket fence.
Peterson: Oh, that sounds like heaven.
Petracelli: I'm gonna kidnap hobos and mess with their heads, so they'll be my slaves. I'll have, like, a hobo army of zombies mowing my lawn and making porno films for me. Every American should have the right to a nice house and hobo sex slaves. Isn't that what we're fighting the war for?!
[ the other soldiers are stunned ]
Sarge: You're screwed up, Petracelli.
Petracelli: I'm screwed up with HOPE!! Because we can DO it! We can get OUT of here!
[ a bomb explodes right in front of their foxhole ]
Peterson: That mortar's drawing a beat on us, Sarge! [ to his photo ] Don't worry, Mary Ellen! We're gonna make it! [ kisses the photo again ]
Petracelli: [ bandishing his machine gun ] We gotta get out of here! So I can publish my own coffee table book of men's dongs! It'll be real tasteful - you know, just Polaroids of guys pissing at the bus station! Nothing fancy!
Soldier: [ lunges for Petracelli ] You SICK bastard!! Shut the hell up!!
Sarge: [ holds him back ] Easy! Easy! If we turn against each other, we die!
Soldier: He's a PERVERT!!
Petracelli: Quit judging my dreams, man, I'm JUST like you!! I'm scared of the thoughts of - of getting out of here - uh - keeping me alive! I may die here today, but the thought of forcing a hen to go DOWN on me is keeping me ALIVE!
Soldier: [ tries again to lunge for Petracelli ] SHUT THE HELL UP!!
Sarge: [ holds him back again ] Come on!
[ another bomb goes off in front of them ]
[ cut to stock footage of bombs exploding ]
[ cut back to the foxhole, all the sldiers dead except for Petracelli. He rises as the music sweeps around him and runs off. ]
[ SCROLLING SUPER: [ accompanied by voiceover ] "And so, Private Petracelli survived the skirmish, and he went on to join the U.S. troops for the final charge into Berlin. And when he cornered Hitler in his bunker, he quickly took the fifty bucks Hitler gave him to let him sneak out the back.
How do I know this?
Because my name is Shaun Hitler.
No relation. But man, wouldn't that have been freaky? And yes, that name has hurt my voice-over career.
[ fade ]