I e-mailed my resignation five minutes ago. And yours should come pretty soon, for the biggest media impact.
I've been thinking.
Yeah?
This has been the hardest political decision of my career. I'm not going to resign.
Huh? What the ****, George?
Before the war, I was going to resign. But now that there's a war on... I can't resign.
You said that this was intolerable. You said we would go together.
It is intolerable, but I'm going to have to tolerate it. And I still agree with myself on that. But my loyalty is to the kids—I am a soldier.
You're not a soldier.
...I've been a soldier my whole life! What do you mean I'm not a solider? I'm a soldier! Look at the uniform—what do you think, I'm one of the Village people?
When did you shoot a guy last?
What, just because I haven't shot someone in fifteen years I'm not a soldier? You know, the Army doesn't make you drag some bullet-ridden, bloody corpse into the Pentagon every five years to renew you "soldier's licence"!
It's unnecessary!
So what?!
And if you were a good general, you'd have some balls!
Look, shut up about my balls. My balls have been around, you have no idea where my balls have been!
I can talk about your balls all I want, 'cause I remember when—
Oh, I **** you once twenty years ago AND I NEVER HEAR THE END OF IT! EVERY TIME WE'RE TOGETHER I'VE GOTTA TO LISTEN TO THIS SHIT! I DON'T EVEN REMEMBER IT!
Come on, Chad. We have to draft resignation announcements.
Actually, Miss Clark, I think I might stay with the General, if that's okay. If he's staying I might stay with him, see what assistance I can furnish.
Okay... General Shrek and his faithful talking donkey.
Well, I just want to let you know, sir, that I think you've got... big balls, it's like... two-thirds of a snowman.
Dear God.
