Taylor: Man, my whole body turnin' into one big fungus - my 'hind, my knees, my armpits, my crotch. Stuff's still spreading, gonna turn me all green.
Johnson: Well look at it like this, Marcus, at least there's less prejudice against green people back in the world.
Taylor: Man, I got 45 days and a wake up. I can't go home, my skin flakin' off me, smelling like I been dead for two weeks!
Johnson: Ain't anybody gonna know you anyway
Taylor: [Scoffs] Those girls back home dying there wanting for me. Coz I'm the trash talker, the woman stalker, the booty shaker and the baby maker.
[Johnson rolls his eyes; Zeke walks over and sits behind Taylor]
Zeke: Well now, well now, just makes my heart leap with joy to hear another poet celebrating another morning in the bush.
Taylor: Glad somebody's happy.
Zeke: Well, tell you what Taylor - I'm cold, I'm wet, I'm hungry, I'm tried, dirty and I stink! That's everything a good rifleman lives for, hey Johnson...
[Johnson smiles]
Taylor: You forgot ugly...
Zeke: No I didn't [grins mischievously]
[Taylor turns his head to Zeke and looks worried; Johnson laughs]
Zeke: You guys ready to move your tails down the trail?
...
Zeke: Since you're so glib all this morning, I'm gonna let you take point.
This scene cracks me up every time.
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