G.I. Joe Rejects

On the Briefing Room level of the G.I. Joe Command Center under the Chaplain's Assistant School at Fort Wadsworth, Staten Island...

DUKE: Thank you very much...um...[briefly searches resume in his hands] uh, Snake Charmer. We'll call you if we're interested in a second interview.

SNAKE CHARMER: Just remember: when I sing, he dances! [His pelvis does two quick revolutions before pumping out several staccato thrusts]

DUKE: Yes, yes. I don't think I'll ever be able to forget that. Please leave now. [SNAKE CHARMER exits. The three Joes in the room are seated on the same side of the conference table.] Scarlett, what the fuck? I thought you were supposed to be screening these people?

SCARLETT: Look, that guy sounded great over the phone. How was I supposed to know he'd show up here in spandex, waving around his...we fight Cobra, right? In theory, a snake charmer would be terrific, wouldn't it?

BEACHHEAD: Who's next?

DUKE: In theory...in theory, yes a snake charmer would be fan-fucking-tastic. If it was Cobra Commander he was charming into custody, then yes, you'd be getting a fucking medal right now, Scarlett. But instead, the man just waved his dick in our faces for five minutes! [Fist-pound on the table] Who's next?

SCARLETT: [Picks up a resume] Uh, "Flamer," sir. He apparently has extensive experience as a fireman.

DUKE: Well, that sounds promising. Barbecue is out with pneumonia for at least a month and Flash has been starting an abnormally large amount of laser-related fires lately. I think the "administrative duties" I've stuck him with are starting to eat at him, but that's another issue. We need a fireman!

BEACHHEAD: Agreed.

SCARLETT: Well, Flamer seems to be very versatile. He also has experience as a police officer, a construction worker and...it looks like he was a sailor for a while too, but he doesn't list which unit he served with. [She passes the resume to DUKE]

DUKE: We can ask him in a minute; I'm buzzing him in now.

The automatic door slides open and pumping dance music suddenly filters into the room. It gets louder as FLAMER enters, carrying a boom box on his shoulder. The door shuts behind him. In full fireman gear he sets the boom box down by the wall and spins to face the Joes.

FLAMER: Hellllooooo!!! Ooh, we have a lady in the house tonight! Fun, fun, fun! Okay, ladies and gentlemen, I heard that there's a fire in here! But I am most certainly not here to put it out. Woohoo! [He starts stripping, naturally]

DUKE: [Shoots up from his chair] WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!

FLAMER: Bringing out the fire within, baby! Yeah! [Tosses his helmet to BEACHHEAD, who catches it and calmly sets it down on the table]

SCARLETT: [Turning scarlet] Uh, Duke, I think...

DUKE: Shut the fuck up Scarlett! [Runs over and lays an almighty kick down on the boom box, completely smashing it and silencing the music]

FLAMER: Hey! You're going to have to replace that, mister. And how am I supposed to do this without any music?

DUKE: What the hell is wrong with you?! Do you even know why we invited you into our secret fucking base?!

FLAMER: Secret fucking? Ooohh, that sounds hot!

DUKE: [Ploughing on] Do you know why it took six weeks of background checks to even get the privilege of being driven blindfolded, earmuffed and gagged here to see us?!

FLAMER: I thought that was kind of weird, but it was definitely the kind of kinky I can get down with. Just give me time to adjust, hon.

DUKE: Shut the fuck up and listen! This is an interview! For an elite fucking military unit!

FLAMER: Ooh, I think I can qualify for that, just let me show you my skills. I really need the music to get into it though. Do you have a PA system in here or something? Somebody broke my radio.

BEACHHEAD: I really don't believe this is happening right now.

DUKE: No more dancing! Put your clothes on and get out. Just get out now. We'll mail you a check for the fucking boom box.

FLAMER: Alright, but I'm very sorry that you were unhappy with my services. Maybe a little one-on-one would be better for you, sweety? [Winks] You have my number.

DUKE: Get out!

FLAMER: Okay, okay! [Gathers up the clothes he had taken off] Be a doll and toss me my helmet, would you? [BEACHHEAD complies and FLAMER exits with one last rueful look at his smashed boom box and a flirtatious wave at the Joes]

The door slides shut and DUKE retakes his seat. Silence reigns. SCARLETT looks like she wants to speak for a moment, but she decides to remain quiet.

DUKE: [Muttering to himself] "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" my fucking ass. I didn't have to ask. What the fuck is this country coming to?

BEACHHEAD: Who's next?

DUKE: Scarlett, who the fuck is next?

SCARLETT: [Clears her throat and gets her papers in order] Um, it looks like it's "Venom Sucker" next, sir. [Pause] On second thought, it looks like he's just a prostitute. [DUKE gives her the look of death] But, we also have "DATA" here! He does counter-intelligence.

BEACHHEAD: Why didn't you pick any women?

DUKE: Let me see DATA's resume before we let him in. [Looks it over for a minute, then suddenly clenches his jaw shut] "Objective: To find a creative outlet where I can apply my 'Don't Ask, Tell All' (aka DATA) philosophy of life to help others and bring about world peace and fabulousness to all." [Pause] Scarlett, you're never fucking helping with recruitment again.

SCARLETT: [Quietly] I thought that sounded like a good objective.

DUKE: So they're all waiting outside this room, aren't they? All these fucking rejects? Nobody's allowed to leave the premises on their own, right?

BEACHHEAD: Affirmative.

SCARLETT: Bazooka is watching them.

DUKE: [Pauses a moment] Let's get out there and see what's going on.

They all get up and move to the door.

BEACHHEAD: I've got a bad feeling about this.

The door swishes open and a fiery Latin beat greets them. The lively music is playing over the loudspeaker, echoing through the other rooms of the base. In front of the shocked Joes prances a conga line made up of the whole cast of prospectives...with Bazooka bringing up the rear, his trademark jersey nowhere to be found. A purple lay hangs from his neck. There is shredded paper confetti of all colors scattered about the room.

BAZOOKA: Sorry guys! I'm going with them! It was great serving with you and all, but this is where the fun is really at!

DUKE: [Apoplectic] GET OUT! ALL OF YOU! NOW!

SCARLETT herds the men, still in a conga line, over to the elevator to the surface, while BEACHHEAD manages to turn the music off. DUKE paces back and forth, cursing under his breath. In a minute SCARLETT returns alone, looking dejected.

DUKE: This is fucking ridiculous. We have a whole day of interviews and we wind up losing a soldier.

SEATED RECRUIT: Ahem! I haven't been interviewed yet.

DUKE: [Spins around and finally sees the man sitting in a chair by the wall] Holy shit, were you there the whole time?!

BEACHHEAD: Yeah, he was.

SCARLETT: [Flips through her stack of resumes for a second before looking up] Are you "Eradicator?"

ERADICATOR: Yep, that's me. Heavy weapons specialist, Green Beret, three-time combat veteran and former drill instructor at your service.

SCARLETT: [Whispering to DUKE] He didn't sound that good.

DUKE: What did I tell you Scarlett? Hey Eradicator. You've got a new job, if you want it.

ERADICATOR: Yes sir!

DUKE: Alright, follow Beachhead here down to the dormitories and he'll get you situated.

SCARLETT: Doesn't Hawk have to sign off on new team members?

DUKE: Are you kidding me? That worthless fuck is always drunker than an alcoholic on pay day. I learned how to forge his signature like five years ago. He doesn't do shit anymore.

BEACHHEAD: And look where that's got us.

DUKE: Hey Eradicator. Before you go, just one thing. You aren't like...those other guys, are you?

ERADICATOR: I'm not sure what you mean, sir.

DUKE: I mean...you're not...that kind of soldier, are you?

ERADICATOR: Sir, you'll have to be more specific.

DUKE: ARE YOU FUCKING GAY OR NOT?!

ERADICATOR: [Long pause] You're not supposed to ask that, sir.

DUKE: Aw hell, just get down there. [As ERADICATOR starts walking towards the elevator with BEACHHEAD, DUKE looks him over one more time] Hey! Newbie!

ERADICATOR: Yes sir?

DUKE: You're on "administrative duties" whenever Flash is on leave, you hear? You just come by my office and I'll go over your responsibilities very thoroughly. [Winks]

Exeunt