You think that's funny? Yeah, you're cool, I've killed thousands of apples, bananas, pineapples, mangos, whatever you can think of it, it was in the Vietnam war, I still have nightmares about it. I haven't been the same since I left Vietnam. Every time I close my eyes, I see Charlie hiding in the darkness of the forest. Not that you could ever see those bastards, mind you. They were fast and they knew their way around the jungle. I remember the looks on the boy's faces when they walked into that village and... oh Jesus. I shouldn't think about that now. Sometimes I still hear Tex's slow southern drawl. I remember the smell of Brooklyn's cigarettes. He always had a pack of Luckys. But the boys are gone now... I knows that. It's--it's just that I forget sometimes. And sometimes the way that those fruits look at me... it makes me think. Sets me on edge. And I feels like I'm still back there... In the jungle... In the darkness. I never killed a pineapple again, or any other fruit since that day. So don't fucking complain you bastards, I've got some problems too.