Col. Slade:
You break my heart, son. All my life I stood up to everyone and everything because it made me feel important. You do it... because you mean it. You got integrity, Charlie. I don't know whether to shoot you, or adopt you.
Charlie:
Not much of a choice, is it, sir?
Col. Slade:
Oh, don't get cute, son.
Charlie:
Colonel, could you please put the gun away?
Col. Slade:
I asked you a question. Do you want me to adopt you, or don't you?
Charlie:
Please, I mean... you're just in a slump right now.
Col. Slade:
Slump? No slump, Charlie. I'm bad. I'm not bad, no; I'm rotten.
Charlie:
You're not bad. You're just in pain.
Col. Slade:
What do you know about pain? You little snail dart from the Pacific Northwest? Fuck you know about pain?
Charlie:
Lemme have the gun, Colonel.
[Charlie steps forward; Slade cocks the M1911.]
Col. Slade:
No time to grow a dick, son.
Charlie:
Just-just gimme the gun, all right, Colonel?
Col. Slade:
I'm talkin' a parade ground. Ten-hut! [Charlie moves forward again.] Soldier, that was a direct order.
Charlie:
The gun.
Col. Slade:
You can stay or you can leave.
Charlie:
I'm staying.
Col. Slade:
Either way, I'm gonna do this thing. Now why don't you leave, and spare yourself?
'Charlie:
Let me have the gun, Colonel.
Col. Slade:
I'm gonna give myself a count. You need a count for balance. Five... four... three... two... one... Fuck it. [As Slade raises the M1911 to his temple, Charlie charges him, and the two struggle over the pistol. Slade quickly overpowers Charlie and pins him against a wall.] GET OUTTA HERE!
Charlie:
I'm staying right here!
Col. Slade:
GET OUTTA HERE!
Charlie:
I'm staying right here!
Col. Slade:
I'm gonna blow your fuckin' head off!
Charlie:
Then do it! You wanna do it, do it! Let's go!
Col. Slade:
Get outta here!
Charlie:
So you fucked up, alright? So what?! Everybody does! Get on with your life, would you?!
Col. Slade:
WHAT LIFE?! I GOT NO LIFE! I'm in the dark here, understand?! I'm in the dark!
Charlie:
Then give up. You wanna give up? Give up. 'Cause I'm givin' up, too. You said I'm through; you're right, I am through. We're both through, it's all over. So get on with it. Let's fuckin' do it! Let's fuckin'- pull the trigger, you miserable, blind motherfucker!
Col. Slade:
Here we go, Charlie.
Charlie:
I'm ready.
Col. Slade:
You don't wanna die.
Charlie:
Neither do you.
Col. Slade:
Give me one reason not to.
Charlie:
I'll give you two. You can dance the tango and drive a Ferrari better than anyone I've ever seen.
Col. Slade:
[Lowers the pistol] You haven't seen anyone do either.