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To: Drew68

“Star Wars: The Zombies Strike Back”


12 posted on 10/16/2015 2:16:06 PM PDT by Lazamataz (Ok. We won't call them 'Anchor Babies'. From now on, we shall call them 'Fetal Grappling Hooks'.)
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To: Lazamataz

And on that note, more real books:

- William Shakespeare’s Star Wars: Verily, A New Hope (also available in German translation)
- The Empire Striketh Back
- The Jedi Doth Return
- The Phantom of Menace
- The Clone Army Attacketh


20 posted on 10/16/2015 2:25:39 PM PDT by ctdonath2 (Everyone entering NRA offices come out alive. Not so Planned Parenthood.)
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To: Lazamataz
Zombie Apocalypse Now.

"Kurtz: I've seen horrors... horrors that you've seen. But you have no right to call me a murderer. You have a right to kill me. You have a right to do that... but you have no right to judge me. It's impossible for words to describe what is necessary to those who do not know what horror means. Horror. Horror has a face... and you must make a friend of horror. Horror and moral terror are your friends. If they are not then they are enemies to be feared. They are truly enemies. I remember when I was with Special Forces. Seems a thousand centuries ago. We went into a camp to inoculate the children. We left the camp after we had inoculated the children for Polio, and this old man came running after us and he was crying. He couldn't see. We went back there and they had come and hacked off every inoculated arm. There they were in a pile. A pile of little arms. And I remember... I... I... I cried. I wept like some grandmother. I wanted to tear my teeth out. I didn't know

Kurtz: We must kill them. We must incinerate them. Pig after pig. Cow after cow. Village after village. Army after army.

Willard: How many people had I already killed? There was those six that I know about for sure. Close enough to blow their last breath in my face. But this time it was an American and an officer. That wasn't supposed to make any difference to me, but it did. Shit... charging a man with murder in this place was like handing out speeding tickets in the Indy 500. I took the mission. What the hell else was I gonna do?

Kilgore: You smell that? Do you smell that?... Napalm, son. Nothing else in the world smells like that. I love the smell of napalm in the morning. You know, one time we had a hill bombed, for twelve hours. When it was all over I walked up. We didn't find one of 'em, not one stinkin' dink body. The smell, you know that gasoline smell, the whole hill. Smelled like... victory. Someday this war's gonna end...

Kurtz: The horror. The horror.

23 posted on 10/16/2015 2:34:22 PM PDT by anymouse (God didn't write this sitcom we call life, he's just the critic.)
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