There's something out there waiting for us... and it ain't no man. We're all gonna die.
— Bunch of slack-jawed faggots around here! This stuff'll make you a goddamn sexual tyrannosaurus, just like me.
— Strap this on your sore ass, Blain.
— Who's our backup?
— No such thing, old buddy. This is a one-way ticket. Once we've crossed that border, we're on our own.
— This is getting better by the minute.
Here we are again, bro, just you and me. Same kind of moon and same kind of jungle. Real number 10 night, remember? Whole platoon, 32 men chopped into meat, and we walk out, just you and me. Nobody else. Right on top, bro. Not a scratch. Not a fucking scratch. You know, whoever got you, he'll come back again, and when he does, I'm gonna cut your name right into him. I'm gonna cut your name into him.
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