Now what do we have here. I get what's goin' on here, don't think I don't.
This here's what we call an Indian trade; you let me think I'm gettin' you this big bad schnitzel-eatin' sonuvabitch when really you're just handin' us all back over to the Krauts. Thought you could get one over on me, dintcha. Well HA, 'cause the joke's on you, now ain't
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...Why?
[He'd be suspicious of her, but she looks like a young girl. Clearly she's okay.]
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Well I guess that'd explain the accommodations; looks more like a place you could actually live in instead of a camp.
[Yes, he is accepting this explanation altogether too easily, but hey. It seems reasonable. Ish.]
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...what's your name, anyway?
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Lieutenant Aldo Raine. An' you are?
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...But I'd feel a little bit better about that assurance if I knew exactly where it is I am. Gathered it's some kinda ship, but that's about all I've got.
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Can't tell you why you're here, though.
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[A short laugh; it's funny. Really.]
'Cause I definitely am not dead.
...Although I guess corpses would say that once they got here too, wouldn't they.
[DRUGGED. That is why he's here. Got bonked on the head and he's really in a field hospital somewhere and this is all some weird narcotics-induced dream. That's it.]
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Sounds like you had something important to do, guess somebody thought you needed a break?
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Brass are gonna have a bone-ee-fied fuckin' field day with this.
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