[A camera pans to an Old Soldiers Home, a closer pan reveals an old warrior sitting by a window. He is dressed in a ratty bathrobe and has an inane look on his weathered face. His internal clock tells him that soon it will be time for an orderly to come by and spoon feed him his favorite meal, ham and motherfuckers.
He passes entire blocks of time sitting back in his regulation chair and reminiscing about his active service and dreams of martial glory. "By God," he reflects, "those were the days. Sure showed them gooks what was what. Burned down their goddamned hootches, used their livestock for target practice, and harrassed their
women."
He often talks to Gilbert although Gilbert was reduced to an anatomical horrorshow that was courtesy of a well-aimed RPG more than fifty years ago. He likes talking to Gilly because Gilly never says a word and is always an appreciative audience when the old soldier holds court.
The old soldier will sometimes drag his medicated carcass to the lobby where he can watch television. If the old soldier is really blessed, he will catch either Scooby Doo or the President giving one of his speeches. Sometimes the old soldier confuses Scooby Doo and the President because both sources are inane and obscene; a talking dog and a talking dummy, how extreme but amusing nonetheless.
This evening the old man strikes one out-out-of-two, Caligula is giving another speech and Little Boots is really wound-up this evening. He is threatening defenseless Iraq with his typical bombast, smart bombs, drones, commandos and other terrors courtesy of peaceful America. The old soldier is becoming aroused by the threats of this Chickenhawk, his breathing getting quicker, his face flushed, the old soldier can no longer restrain his ardor and shuffles back to his room. He pulls out his flag and sits in his regulation chair. He fantasizes about civilians being blown apart, schools and hospitals disappearing in bomb blasts, women screaming in terror and the old soldier fondles the flag with one hand and with the other, he manipulates his flaccid penis. He hums the Star Spangled Banner as his fingers grow more frantic. The old soldier pisses in his lap and sighs. Maybe tomorrow Little Boots will give another speech. (J. Driessler)]
