Dog Soldiers

Sergeant Harry Wells:
Sausages.

Cooper:
Sarge. Sarge?

Sergeant Harry Wells:
I'M IN THE KHAZI.

Cooper:
Remember - short, controlled bursts.

Spoon:
I hope I give you the shits, you f***ing wimp.

Spoon:
Come and have a go if you think you're hard enough.

Sergeant Harry Wells:
My guts are out Coop!

Cooper:
We'll just put 'em back in then!

Sergeant Harry Wells:
They're not gonna f***ing fit!

Cooper:
Of course they'll fit, man!

Sergeant Harry Wells:
You cannot tell me that is f***ing normal.

Cooper:
Where's Spoon?

Sergeant Harry Wells:
There is no Spoon.

Wells:
All right, then, time sync. I got zero-seven-thirty coming up in three... two... one... check.

Spoon:
Oh, bollocks, I don't believe this.

Wells:
What is it now, Witherspoon?

Spoon:
Left me watch at the barracks, Sarge.

Wells:
Take a breather every once in a while, son, you'll live longer.

Terry:
Nice work, Spoon, you tosser.

Joe:
Took the words right out of my mouth.

Spoon:
And you'll be taking my boot out your mouth in a minute, Joe, you baldy twat.

Sergeant Harry Wells:
Now listen up, I wanna make this quick, and to the point, 'cos just like you all I want to do is get home, jump into a warm bed with a nice hot woman and watch the footy.

Wells:
If we do happen to make contact, I expect nothing less than gratuitous violence from the lot of ya. Because we're firing blanks doesn't mean we have to be thinking nice thoughts. So you remember, you keep the fire down, right, you get stuck in and you kick their f***ing teeth out, or I guarantee you, Joe, they will be eating your bollocks for breakfast, sunshine.

Terry:
Hard-boiled or fried, Sarge?

Wells:
Scrambled.

Cooper:
Sweeping patrols between each of these bunkers - they'll have the whole sector wrapped tighter than an Eskimo's nad-sac.

Cooper:
Go on then Bruce, what scares you?

Bruce:
The self-destructive nature of the human condition.

Spoon:
You're just taking the piss now.

Cooper:
What about you, Spoon?

Spoon:
Castration.

Cooper:
There's no argument there. Joe?

Joe:
Only one thing guaranteed to put the shits up me: a penalty shoot-out.

Cooper:
Figures. Terry?

Terry:
Watching a penalty shoot-out... with Joe.

Bruce:
What about you, Coop?

Cooper:
Spiders. And women. And... spider-women.

Sergeant Harry Wells:
We are now up against live, hostile targets. So, if Little Red Riding Hood should show up with a bazooka and a bad attitude, I expect you to chin the b*tch.

Sergeant Harry Wells:
Probably some joker who didn't want Joe to hear the footy results.

Joe:
Laugh? I nearly shat.

Spoon:
Know what this reminds me of? Rourke's Drift. 100 men of Harlech, making a desperate stand against 10,000 Zulu warriors. Outnumbered, surrounded, staring death in the face and not flinching for a moment. Balls of British steel.

Joe:
You're bloody loving this, aren't you?

Cooper:
I'm still not convinced these things didn't just escape from the local nut-house and forget to shave or trim their nails.

Cooper:
Don't... stare... back.

Spoon:
I can't... help... it.

Joe:
Brilliant... we either stay and snuff it, or we all go... and snuff it.

Ryan:
Decisions. Decisions.

Joe:
Laugh? I nearly died.

Ryan:
Who's stopping you?

Cooper:
We need a decoy. Something fast and loud.

Spoon:
What? You what?

Cooper:
Werewolves spend most of their time in human form, right? And the only people for miles around live right here.

Spoon:
So these things aren't about to give up the fight and go home...

Cooper:
They ARE home.

Sgt. Harry Wells:
Yeah, that makes perfect sense. I mean, think about it. We bust into their house, we eat all their porridge, we sleep in their f***ing beds. No wonder they're pissed.

Cooper:
Ryan. Have ya tried lickin' ya own balls yet?

Cooper:
I forgot. You don't f***in' have any.

Cooper:
Do you think it's all over? It is now.

Cooper:
Well, Ryan, you heard the score. Maybe one or two of us'll make it through this, but I don't care much for our chances. D'you like football?

Ryan:
What? "They think it's all over", and all that crap? No I don't.

Cooper:
Yeah, well Joe, you remember Joe? He liked football. He f***in' lived for it.

Ryan:
Is this relevant?

Cooper:
He missed the most important match of his life for this bullshit exercise, and now he's dead along with two other mates I'd have rightfully given my right arm for. Too f***in' right it's relevant.

Megan:
Tell me. Honestly, what are our chances?

Cooper:
Morale seems good, considering. But that will only last as long as the ammunition holds out. Although high spirits are just no substitute for eight hundred rounds a minute, but I don't think that's what you wanted to hear.

Ryan:
They won't die.

Wells:
Yeah, well,

Wells:
, this gives me better peace of mind, sir.

Ryan:
You want piece of mind? Run before they tear your legs from under you.

Wells:
Now you just shut up like a good gentleman, you are scaring my lads.

Sergeant Harry Wells:
Cooper, knock me out. HIT ME.

Sergeant Harry Wells:
I said knock me out, you f***in' p*ssy.

Megan:
It's that time of month.

Sergeant Harry Wells:
I am not breaking radio silence just cos' you lot got spooked by a dead flying f***ing cow.

Joe:
Over here Cooper. On me head.

Joe:
Ya twater. Can't believe I'm missin' the footy for this... party.

Wells:
Joe, if you don't shut up I swear to God I'm gonna f***in' slot you myself, now move.

Joe:
Didn't say a word, Sarge.

Spoon:
So this bloke walks into a pub right, with a little dog under his arm. Puts it down on the bar, goes and sits down. The bar-tender's lookin' at him thinking "what the f***in' hell's goin' on here?". Then he looks back at the dog, and to his surprise the dog turns around and...

Cooper:
F***in' cow.

Spoon:
F***in' hell.

Wells:
Cease fire, Terry. Cease fire.

Joe:
Terry, what the hell are you doin'? You're firing blanks man.

Wells:
Is everyone all right? Is everyone OK?

Spoon:
Nah, man, I think I've sh*t meself.

Megan:
What happened?

Spoon:
What happened? We were attacked by huge f***in' howlin' things, that's what.

Spoon:
Little pigs, little pigs, we've come to nick ya video.

Cooper:
Just f***in' leg it.

Terry:
Why would they put a bug in our radio?

Spoon:
It's the Kobayashi Maru test. They fixed it so we can't f***in' win.

Wells:
Yeah, well, this gives me better piece of mind, sir.

Ryan:
You want piece of mind? Run for your lives before they tear your legs from under you.

Wells:
Now you just shut up like a good gentleman. You are scaring my lads.

Ryan:
RTU this pathetic piece of sh*t. Send him back to his squad.

Wells:
I want a good, clean dispersal. I want a secure landing-zone. Go go go go go. Joe, get outta the pissin' chopper.

Joe:
I'm not missing the footy for this. It's totally bone. I'm not goin', Sarge. I'm not goin'.

Joe:
This is bone. This is so f***ing bone.

Cooper:
Anything else?

Megan:
Yeah. What does 'bone' mean?

Spoon:
Bone; Bollocks, naff.

Joe:
Not. Very. Good.

Megan:
Right. Anything else I should know?

Cooper:
Call signs. You need to be specific. Upstairs you've got Sergeant Wells who you seem to know inside and out by now. Over there you've got Spoon, the vomiting cavalier is Terry, and the big guy with the axe is Joe.

Terry:
Planning on scoring, Sarge?

Spoon:
Yea, well mind you don't foul her in the penalty box.

Terry:
Aww.

Wells:
Alright, button it, Private Parts.

Cooper:
New woman, same old shite.

Bruce:
Look, I'll tell you what. Get on the radio, bring the Special Forces guys down on our heads, and after they've finished kicking you about, you can ask them what the score was.

Joe:
What are ya trying to do? Mildly concern me?

Bruce:
It's reality that bites mate, not the creatures from your head.

Joe:
I'm sick of this pre-packed dog shite.

Bruce:
If it's not one thing, it's another, eh Joe?

Spoon:
I know, you're like a bear with a sore head.

Terry:
Thanks to Cooper's fancy footwork.

Cooper:
Yeah, sorry about that Joe. How's your head doing?

Joe:
Still in one piece. Knock on wood.

Joe:
Come on then Bruce, man. Lets hear the result on the radio.

Bruce:
Why do you keep torturing yourself?

Joe:
We might've slaughtered them.

Bruce:
Yeah, then again, you might not.

Terry:
We all wanna know the results Joe. We just enjoy watching you suffer.

Joe:
Laugh. I nearly split my sides.

Spoon:
Yeah, well there's no point tearing your hair out about it Joe... oops, sorry mate, too late.

Spoon:
Well come on, you beauties.

Joe:
Is anyone else thinking what I'm thinking?

Bruce:
You are joking aren't you?

Spoon:
You f***in' animal.

Joe:
Yea, you're all thinking the same thing aren't you?

Spoon:
Mmmm.

Joe:
Right lads, how do ya like your steak done?

Wells:
You bunch of dirty bloody savages. You lot make me sick. God.

Cooper:
Any questions?

Joe:
Just the one, Coop. Exactly what is it we're fighting against?

Cooper:
Megan, do you wanna run it past the boys?

Megan:
Lycanthrope.

Joe:
You what?

Cooper:
That's werewolves to you and me.

Joe:
You're taking the piss.

Spoon:
What? It makes perfect sense to me.

Megan:
I came here to be at one with nature, well I got what I wanted. Now I have to live with it.

Spoon:
Yea? Yea? You want some? Here we go. Yea? See if you're f***in' hard. If you're so f***in' hard... you throw a punch like a wimp. F***ing bastard. C'mon. C'mon. Bring it on. All right you...

Wells:
Yea, get out of it you bastard. How'd you like them tomatoes, you f***in' bastard?

Megan:
Up until today you believed there was a line between myth and reality. Maybe a very fine line sometimes but at least there was a line. Those things out there are REAL. If they're real, what else is real? You know what lives in the shadows now. You may never get another night's sleep as long as you live.

Ryan:
There are some places you really shouldn't go.

Megan:
What's the glue for?

Cooper:
Ever wondered why the best thing that superglue sticks together is your fingers? Forget your grandma's china cups - this stuff was developed for the Vietnam war to patch up broken soldiers.

Megan:
But they're good people, they're kind people.

Cooper:
More's the pity.

Megan:
Why?

Cooper:
Cause we're gonna have to kill them all.

Cooper:
So either we all make a break for it and fight our way clear, or the rest of us keep them occupied while one of us goes for help.

Joe:
And by the time the cavalry get here, they'll have to pick what's left of us from between their teeth.

Ryan:
Have you ever heard of Special Weapons Division? They're the ones in white coats that train dolphins to stick mines on submarines, and cute furry animals to tear your head off at the neck.

Spoon:
Where the hell are we now?

Ryan:
Of course, the real trick to survival lies not in running and hiding, but in removing your enemy's capacity to hunt you down.

Ryan:
We're on a different level here, Cooper. For that, I need men of action, not deeds.

Wells:
Come on, sunshine, f***ing shift it!

Cooper:
We are gonna make it through this. You know why? I don't scare that easy.

Cooper:
Everyone tooled up?

Spoon:
To the nines.

Spoon:
They shut down the generator!

Terry:
Why would they do that?

Megan:
Because they can see in the dark.

Ryan:
And you're afraid of it.

Joe:
This is a pile of rancid sh*t!

Megan:
Now what do you believe?

Cooper:
Im beginnin' to believe ya, but I think Joe may have worded it better.

Wells:
What if shes wrong? What if they're not all in there?

Cooper:
Then we get some of them. Its a sh*t load better than none of them and a marked improvement on all of us.

Wells:
You know, Coop, there's one more thing you gotta learn about command, mate. Sometimes the peopIe that you kill, are your own men.

Ryan:
They tore them to pieces in front of my eyes!

Bruce:
Christ on a bike!

Cooper:
I'm not about to second guess these things. They're the enemy, simple as that.

Megan:
This is no ordinary enemy.

Megan:
Every month, when the moon is full, they hunt as a team. Dedicated to the kill. During that time, at least fifteen people have vanished. Hikers mostly. In small groups or alone. They're caught out in the open, hunted down, torn apart and devoured. I've never witness the actual slaughter, but the next day, no bodies, no werewolves, just blood.

Cooper:
Roast their bollocks off.

Joe:
You mean like Spoon?

Spoon:
What about you Sarge?

Cooper:
Cheese, ya f***er!

Terry:
Dogs. More like pussies.

Avril Lavigne loves fish.