Sgt. Brad 'Iceman' Colbert:
Point, Ray. I was one of those unfortunates adopted by upper middle-class professionals and nurtured in an environment of learning, art and a socio-religious culture steeped in more than 2000 years of Talmudic tradition. Not everyone is lucky enough to have been raised in a whiskey tango trailer park by a bow-legged female whose sole qualification for motherhood is a womb that happened to catch a sperm of a passing truck driver.

Cpl. Josh Ray Person:
At least my mom took me to NASCAR!

Lance Cpl. Harold James Trombley:
...Your dad's a truck driver?




Cpl. Josh Ray Person:
A Nutbusting haji, is a happy haji.


Sgt. Brad 'Iceman' Colbert:
Ugh! Perfect ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ opportunity. F*** it- I'm going for it!



Sgt. Brad 'Iceman' Colbert:
The point, Lance Corporal: we're supposed to be a recon unit of pure warrior spirit. We're out here, 40 klicks in enemy lines, and this man of God here, he's a f***in' POG. In fact, he's an officer POG. That's one more layer of bureaucracy and unnecessary logistics, one more ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ we need to supply MREs and baby wipes for. And worst of all, worst of all, the motherf***er doesn't even carry a weapon. When push comes to shove even Rolling Stone picks up a gun but this f***in' shill of God, he can't cover a sector, he'll never hump ammo or Claymores. This is a f***in' war and we're here as warriors, so on top of everything else that's expected of us do we really need to drag him along and indulge in this make-believe ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥?