What makes Inglourious Basterds so memorable on the page is how Tarantino turns dialogue into a weapon: polite words sharpened into threats, jokes that land like punches, and long, winding speeches that feel like a trap slowly tightening. In these quotes, you can hear the script’s signature rhythm—Hans Landa’s velvet manners masking predatory intelligence (“I love rumors!”) and his chilling talent for turning “conversation” into interrogation, while Aldo Raine’s crude, mythmaking bravado transforms violence into a mission statement. The language-switching, the ceremonial small talk about milk and strudel, the movie-nerd chatter about directors and criticism, and the constant undercurrent of performance (accents, disguises, “masquerade,” even “That’s a bingo!”) all make the story feel like theater staged at gunpoint. And then the script goes fully meta: cinema isn’t just setting, it’s the method—propaganda, celebrity, and a literal burning screen become the battleground. The result is dialogue you don’t just remember—you can hear, because it’s built from tension, irony, and showmanship right up to that final, self-satisfied punchline: “I think this just might be my masterpiece.”

Quotes from the movie Inglourious Basterds by Quentin Tarantino (2009) with Brad Pitt, Mélanie Laurent, and Christoph Waltz.

– While I’m very familiar with you and your family, I have no way of knowing if you are familiar with who I am. Are you aware of my existence?
– Yes.
– This is good. Now, are you aware of the job I’ve been ordered to carry out in France?
– Yes.
– Please tell me what you’ve heard.
– I’ve heard that the Führer has put you in charge of rounding up the Jews left in France who are either hiding or passing for Gentile.
– The Führer couldn’t have said it better himself.

I’ve read the reports of this area. But like any enterprise, when under new management, there is always a slight duplication of efforts, most of it being a complete waste of time, but needs to be done nevertheless.

– What have you heard about the Dreyfuses, monsieur LaPadite?
– Only rumors.
– I love rumors! Facts could be so misleading, where rumors, true or false, are often revealing.

– Monsieur LaPadite, are you aware of the nickname the people of France have given me?
– I have no interest in such things.
– But you are aware of what they call me.
– I’m aware.
– What are you aware of?
– That they call you “The Jew Hunter.”
– Precisely.

– Heydrich apparently hates the moniker the good people of Prague have bestowed on him.
Actually, why he would hate the name “the Hangman” is baffling to me.
It would appear he has done everything in his power to earn it.
Now I, on the other hand, love my unofficial title
precisely because I’ve earned it.
The feature that makes me such an effective hunter of the Jews is, as opposed to most German soldiers, I can think like a Jew where they can only think like a German. More precisely, a German soldier.

Now, if one were to determine what attribute the German people share with a beast, it would be the cunning and the predatory instinct of a hawk.
But if one were to determine what attributes the Jews share with a beast, it would be that of the rat.
The Führer and Goebbels’ propaganda have said pretty much the same thing.
But where our conclusions differ, is I don’t consider the comparison an insult.
Consider for a moment the world a rat lives in.
It’s a hostile world, indeed.
If a rat were to scamper through your front door, right now, would you greet it with hostility?
– I suppose I would.
– Has a rat ever done anything to you to create this animosity you feel toward them?
– Rats spread disease. They bite people.
– Rats were the cause of the bubonic plague, but that’s some time ago.
I propose to you any disease a rat could spread, a squirrel could equally carry.
Would you agree?
Yet, I assume you don’t share the same animosity with squirrels that you do with rats, do you?
– No.
– Yet, they’re both rodents, are they not?
And except for the tail, they even rather look alike, don’t they?
– It’s an interesting thought, Herr Colonel.
– However interesting as the thought may be, it makes not one bit of difference to how you feel.
If a rat were to walk in here, right now, as I’m talking would you greet it with a saucer of your delicious milk?
– Probably not.
– I didn’t think so.
You don’t like them.
You don’t really know why you don’t like them.
All you know is you find them repulsive.
Consequently, a German soldier conducts a search of a house suspected of hiding Jews.
Where does the hawk look?
He looks in the barn, he looks in the attic, he looks in the cellar, he looks everywhere he would hide.
But there are so many places it would never occur to a hawk to hide.
However, the reason the Führer has brought me off my Alps in Austria and placed me in French cow country today is because it does occur to me.
Because I’m aware what tremendous feats human beings are capable of
once they abandon dignity.

– May I smoke my pipe as well?
– Please, Herr Colonel, make yourself at home.
– Now, my job dictates that I must have my men enter your home
and conduct a thorough search before I can officially cross your family’s name off my list.
And if there are any irregularities to be found, rest assured they will be.
That is unless you have something to tell me that makes the conducting of a search unnecessary.
I might add, also, that any information that makes the performance of my duty easier will not be met with punishment.
Actually, quite the contrary. It will be met with reward.
And that reward will be, your family will cease to be harassed in any way by the German military during the rest of our occupation of your country.
You’re sheltering enemies of the state, are you not?
– Yes.
– You’re sheltering them underneath your floorboards, aren’t you?
– Yes.
– Point out to me the areas where they’re hiding.
Since I haven’t heard any disturbance, I assume, while they’re listening, they don’t speak English.
– Yes.
– I’m going to switch back to French now, and I want you to follow my masquerade. Is that clear?
– Yes.
– Monsieur LaPadite I thank you for the milk and your hospitality.
I do believe our business here is done.
Ah, ladies.
I thank you for your time.
We shan’t be bothering your family any longer.
So, Monsieur Mademoiselle. I bid farewell to you and say adieu.

Au revoir, Shosanna!

My name is Lieutenant Aldo Raine.
And I’m putting together a special team, and I need me eight soldiers.
Eight Jewish American soldiers.

We’re going to be dropped into France dressed as civilians.
Once we’re in enemy territory, as a bushwhacking guerrilla army, we’re going to be doing one thing and one thing only. Killing Nazis.

I don’t know about you all, but I sure as hell didn’t come down from the goddamn Smoky Mountains, cross 5,000 miles of water, fight my way through half of Sicily and jump out of a fucking airplane to teach the Nazis lessons in humanity.
Nazi ain’t got no humanity.
They’re the foot soldiers of a Jew-hating, mass-murdering maniac and they need to be destroyed.
That’s why any and every son of a bitch we find wearing a Nazi uniform, they’re going to die.

Now, I’m the direct descendent of the mountain man J im Bridger.
That means I got a little Indian in me.
And our battle plan will be that of an Apache resistance.
We will be cruel to the Germans.
And through our cruelty, they will know who we are.
And they will find the evidence of our cruelty in the disemboweled, dismembered and disfigured bodies of their brothers we leave behind us.
And the German won’t be able to help themselves but imagine the cruelty their brothers endured at our hands, and our boot heels and the edge of our knives.
And the German will be sickened by us.
And the German will talk about us.
And the German will fear us.
And when the German closes their eyes at night and they’re tortured by their subconscious for the evil they have done, it will be with thoughts of us that they are tortured with.

When you join my command, you take on debit.
A debit you owe me, personally.
Each and every man under my command owes me 100 Nazi scalps.
And I want my scalps.
And all y’all will get me 100 Nazi scalps taken from the heads of 100 dead Nazis.
Or you will die trying!

The one that beats my boys with a bat!
The one they call “The Bear Jew” is a Golem!

The reason for Hugo Stiglitz’s celebrity among German soldiers is simple.
As a German-enlisted man, he killed 13 Gestapo officers.

We just want to say we’re a big fan of your work.
When it comes to killing Nazis I think you show great talent.
And I pride myself for having an eye for that kind of talent.
But your status as a Nazi killer is stilI amateur.
We all come here to see if you want to go pro.

Werner, if you heard of us, you probably heard we ain’t in the prisoner-taking business.
We in the killing Nazi business, and, cousin, business is a-booming.

– Besides you, we know there’s another Kraut patrol fucking around here somewhere.
If that patrol were to have any crack shots, that orchard would be a goddamn sniper’s delight.
So if you ever want to eat a sauerkraut sandwich again, you got to show me on this here map where they are.
You got to tell me how many they are, and you got to tell me what kind of artillery they’re carrying with them.
– You can’t expect me to divulge information that would put German lives in danger.
– Well, now, Werner, that’s where you’re wrong, because that’s exactly what I expect.
I need to know about Germans hiding in trees.
And you need to tell me. And you need to tell me right now.
Now, just take that finger of yours and point out on this here map where this party is being held, how many is coming and what they brought to play with.

I’m calling The Bear Jew over.
He’s going to take that big bat of his, and he’s going to beat your ass to death with it.
Now, take your Wiener-schnitzel-licking finger, and point out on this map what I want to know.

Quite frankly, watching Donny beat Nazis to death is the closest we ever get to going to the movies. Donny!

So tell them, we let you live so you could spread the word through the ranks what’s going to happen to every Nazi we find.

See, we like our Nazis in uniforms. That way you can spot them. Just like that.
But you take off that uniform, ain’t nobody going to know you’s a Nazi.
And that don’t sit well with us.
So I’m going to give you a little something you can’t take off.

– You know, Lieutenant, you’re getting pretty good at that.
– You know how you get to Carnegie Hall, don’t you? Practice.

– How is it a girl as young as you owns a cinema?
– My aunt left it to me.
– Merci for hosting a German night.
– I don’t have a choice but you’re welcome.

– I love the Riefenstahl mountain films especially Piz Palü. It’s nice to see a French girl who’s an admirer of Riefenstahl.
– “Admire” would not really be the word I would use to describe my feelings towards Fräulein Riefenstahl.
– But you do admire the director Pabst, don’t you? That’s why you include his name on the marquee when you didn’t have to.
– I’m French. We respect directors in our country. Even Germans.

– So you’re a war hero. What did you do?
– I was alone in a bell tower in a walled off city. It was myself and a thousand rounds of ammo, in a bird’s nest against three hundred enemy soldiers.
– What’s a bird’s nest?
– A bird’s nest is what a sniper would call a bell tower. It’s a high structure, offering a three hundred and sixty degree view. Very advantageous for marksmen.
– How many did you kill?
– Sixty-eight. The first day. A hundred and fifty the second day. Thirty-two the third day.
On the fourth day they exited the city.
Naturally, my war story received a lot of attention in Germany that’s why they all recognize me.
They call me the German Sergeant York.
– Maybe they’ll make a film about your exploits.
– Well, that’s just what Joseph Goebbels thought. So he did and called it “Nation’s Pride.” And they wanted me to play myself so I did.
Joseph thinks this movie will be proven to be his masterpiece.
And I will be the German Van Johnson.
– “Nation’s Pride” is about you? “Nation’s Pride” is starring you?
– I know. Comical?
– Well, good luck with your movie, Private. I hope all goes well for Joseph and yourself.

Emmanuelle Mimieux, I’d like to introduce you to the minister of propaganda the leader of the entire German film industry and now that I’m an actor, my boss, Dr. Joseph Goebbels.

What they are trying to tell you, Emmanuelle, is Private Zoller has spent the last hour at lunch trying to convince Monsieur Goebbels to abandon previous plans for Private Zoller’s film premiere and change the venue to your cinema.

You’re not trying to fill the house, they’re fighting for seats.

Actually, in my role as security chief of this joyous German occasion, I’m afraid I must have a word with Mademoiselle Mimieux.

No need for concern, you two. As security chief, I simply need to have a chat with the possible new venue’s property owner.

Yes, two strudels. One for myself and one for the mademoiselle.
For me a cup of espresso and for the mademoiselle a glass of milk.

Mademoiselle, let me interrupt you.
This is a simple formality.
No reason for you to feel anxious.
I apologize, I forgot to order the cream.
One moment.
Wait for the cream.

So, Emmanuelle explain to me how does it happen, that a young lady such as yourself, comes to own a cinema?

I must say, I appreciate the modesty of this cinema.
Your cinema has real respect, almost church like.
Not to say we couldn’t spruce the place up a bit.
Maybe I’ll go to the Louvre, pick up a few Greek nudes, and scatter them about the lobby.

Filling the cinema with Nazis and burning it down to the ground.

And with Madame Mimieux’s 350 nitrate film print collection we wouldn’t even need explosives would we?

At that time, 35 millimeter nitrate film was so flammable that you couldn’t even bring a reel onto a streetcar.

Because nitrate film burns three times faster than paper.

– Why do we need filmmaking equipment?
– Because Marcel, my sweet we’re going to make a film.
– Just for the Nazis.

– If you offer me a scotch and plain water, I could drink a scotch and plain water.
– That-a-boy, Lieutenant. Make it yourself like a good chap, will you? The bar is in the globe.

– I write reviews and articles for a publication called Films and Filmmakers, and I’ve had two books published.
– Impressive. Don’t be modest, Lieutenant. What are their titles?
– The first book was called Art of the Eyes, the Heart and the Mind: A Study of German Cinema in the ’20s. And the second one was called Twenty-Four Frame da Vinci. It’s a subtextual film criticism study of the work of German director G.W. Pabst.

In attendance at this joyous Germatic occasion will be Goebbels, Goring, Bormann, and most of the German H igh Command including all high ranking officers of both the SS and the Gestapo, as well as luminaries of the Nazi propaganda film industry.

Basically, we have all our rotten eggs in one basket.
The objective of Operation Kino, blow up the basket.

– The Germans call them the Basterds.
– The Basterds. Never heard of them.
– Whole point of the Secret Service, old boy, you not hearing of them.

– You didn’t say the goddamn rendezvous is in a fucking basement.
– I didn’t know.
– You said it was in a tavern.
– It is a tavern.
– Yeah, in a basement. You know, fighting in a basement offers a lot of difficulties. Number one being, you’re fighting in a basement.

– I need to know we can all remain calm.
– I don’t look calm to you?
– Well, now that you put it like that, I guess you do.

If we get into trouble, we can handle it.
But if trouble does happen, we need you to make damn sure no Germans, or French, for that matter, escape from that basement.

If Frau von Hammersmark’s cover is compromised, the mission is kaput.

– If I had a wife would she be called a squaw?
– Yes!
– He’s got it.
– Three more questions!
– Is my blood brother Old Shatterhand?
– Yes!
– Did Karl May write me?
– Yes!
– So who are you?!
– I am “Winnetou,” chief of the Apaches!
– Yes!

– Excuse me, Captain, but your accent is very unusual. Where are you from?
– You must be either completely drunk or mad to dare to speak to a superior officer with such impertinentness!

– You’re obviously not stationed in France or I’d know who you are.
– You know every German in France?
– Worth knowing.

I didn’t join them because you’re quite right, Captain.
An officer should not fraternize with enlisted men.
But seeing as we are all officers and sophisticated lady friends of officers.
What say we play the game?

So gentlemen the object of the game is to write the name of a famous person on your card.
Real or fictitious, doesn’t matter.
For instance, you could write, Confucius or Doctor Fu Manchu.

And they must be famous, not aunt Frida.
When you finish writing, put the card face down on the table.
And move it to the person on your right…

The person to your left moves his card to you.
You pick up the card without looking at it lick the back and stick it on your forehead.

– When I went from the jungle to America did I go by boat?
– Yes.
– Did I go against my will?
– Yes.
– On this boat ride, was I in chains?
– Yes.
– When I arrived in America, was I displayed in chains?
– Yes.
– Am I the story of the Negro in America?
– No.
– Well then I must be King Kong.
– Bravo!

Now, since I answered correctly, you all need to finish your drinks.

– Allow me to refill your glasses, gentlemen, and I will bid you and the fräulein adieu. Eric has a bottle of thirty-three-year-old whiskey. From the Scottish Highlands.
What do you say, gentlemen?
– You’re most gracious, Major.
– Eric! The thirty-three. And new glasses! You don’t want to contaminate the thirty-three with the swill you were drinking.
– How many glasses?
– Five.
– Not for me. I like scotch, scotch doesn’t like me.
– Nor I. I’ll stay with bubbly.
– Three glasses.

A thousand year German Reich!

– Why do you have your Walther pointed at my testicles?
– Because you’ve just given yourself away, Captain. You’re no more German than that scotch.

– I was saying that makes two of us. I’ve had a gun pointed at your balls since you sat down.

I’m afraid you and I we both know, Captain no matter what happens to anybody else in this room the two of us aren’t going anywhere.

Too bad about Sergeant Wilhelm and his famous friends.
If any of you expect to live, you’ll have to shoot them too.
Looks like little Max will grow up an orphan.

Say auf Wiedersehen to your Nazi balls.

We only got a deal, we trust each other.
And a Mexican standoff ain’t trust.
You need guns on me for it to be a Mexican standoff.
You got guns on us. You decide to shoot, we’re dead.

To get them into the premiere wearing military uniforms with all the military there would’ve been suicide.
But going as members of the German film industry, they wear tuxedos and fit in with everybody else.

– He’s going to wrap it up in a cast, and you got a good how-I-broke-my-leg- mountain-climbing story.
– That’s German, ain’t it? You all like climbing mountains, don’t you?
– I don’t. I like smoking, drinking and ordering in restaurants.

We fill you up with morphine till it’s coming out your ears and just limp your little ass up that reuge carpet.

– I know this is a silly question before I ask it, but can you Americans speak any other language than English?
– We both speak a little Italian. With an atrocious accent, no doubt. But that doesn’t exactly kill us in the crib.
– Germans don’t have a good ear for Italian.
– So you mumble Italian and brazen through it. Is that the plan?
– That’s about it.
– That sounds good.
– It sounds like shit. What else are we going to do? Go home?
– No, that sounds good. If you don’t blow it, with that, I can get you in the building.

– Well, I speak the most Italian, so I’ll be your escort.
Donowitz speaks second most, so he’ll be your Italian cameraman.
Omar, third most. He’ll be Donny’s assistant.
– I don’t speak Italian.
– Like I said, third best. Just keep your fucking mouth shut. In fact, why don’t you start practicing right now?

– So what’s happened to your lovely leg?
– A by-product of kicking ass in the German cinema, no doubt.
– Save your flattery, you old dog. I know too many of your former conquests to fall into that honey pot.
– Seriously, what happened?

– Well, I tried my hand, foolishly I might add at mountain climbing. And this is the result.
– Mountain climbing? That’s how you injured your leg – mountain climbing?
– Believe it or not, yes it is.
– Forgive me, fräulein. I don’t mean to laugh at your misfortune. It’s just… mountain climbing?

– I’m curious, fräulein, what could have ever compelled you to undertake such a foolhardy endeavor?
– Well, I shan’t be doing it again, I can tell you that.
– That cast looks as fresh as my old Uncle Gustav. When were you climbing this mountain, last night?
– Very good eye, Colonel. It happened yesterday morning.
– And where in Paris is this mountain?
No, I’m just teasing you, fräulein. You know me, I tease rough.

– So, who are your three handsome escorts?
– I’m afraid neither three speak a word of German. They’re friends of mine from Italy.
This is a wonderful Italian stuntman, Enzo Gorlomi.
A very talented cameraman, Antonio Margheriti.
And Antonio’s camera assistant Dominick Decocco.
Gentlemen, this is an old friend, Colonel Hans Landa of the SS.
– Hello.
– Gentlemen, it’s a pleasure the friends of our cherished star, admired by all of us, this outright jewel of our culture are naturally going to be under my personal protection for the duration of their stay.

– Gorlomi? Am I saying it correctly?
– Yes… ‘er, correct.
– Say it for me once please…?
– Gorlomi.
– I’m sorry, again…? Once more…?
– Gorlomi.
– What’s your name again…?
– Antonio Margheriti.
– Again…?
– Margheriti.
– One more time, but let me really hear the music in it!
– Margheriti.
– And you…?
– Dominick Decocco.

Okay, the big sniper battle in the film begins around the middle of the third reel.
Our film comes in on the fourth reel.
Somewhere towards the end of the third reel go down and lock the doors of the auditorium.
Then take your place behind the screen and wait for my cue.
Then burn it down.

– Mademoiselle Mimieux allowed me to set up camp in her office for the time being.
Let me see your foot.
– I beg your pardon?
– Put your foot in my lap.
– Hans, you embarrass me.
– Could you please reach into the right pocket of my coat and give me what you find in there.
May I?
What’s that American expression?
“If the shoe fits, you must wear it.”

You fucking bratwurst-smelling… Goddamn you! Get off!

Alas, you’re now in the hands of the SS.
My hands to be exact.
And they’ve been waiting a long time to touch you.

– The Germans’ nickname for me is the Little Man?
– And as if to make my point, I’m a little surprised how tall you were in real life. I mean, you’re a little fellow, but not circus-midget little, as your reputation would suggest.

– Now as far as your paesanos, Sergeant Donowitz and Private Omar…
– How you know our names?
– Lieutenant Aldo, if you don’t think I wouldn’t interrogate every single one of your swastika-marked survivors, we simply aren’t operating on the level of mutual respect I assumed.
– No, I guess not.

– If they’re still here, and if they’re still alive, and that’s one big if, there ain’t no way you’re going to take them boys without setting off them bombs.
– I have no doubt.
– And, yes, some Germans will die. Yes, it will ruin the evening.
And, yes, Goebbels will be very, very, very mad at you for what you’ve done to his big night.
But you won’t get Hitler, you won’t get Goebbels,
you won’t get Goring, and you won’t get Bormann.
And you need all four to end the war.
But if I don’t pick up this phone right here, you may very well get all four.
And if you get all four, you end the war tonight.
So, gentlemen, let’s discuss the prospect of ending the war tonight.

– Gentlemen, I have no intention of killing Hitler and killing Goebbels and killing Goring and killing Bormann, not to mention winning the war single-handedly for the Allies, only later to find myself standing before a Jewish tribunal.
If you want to win the war tonight, we have to make a deal.
– What kind of deal?
– The kind you wouldn’t have the authority to make.
However, I’m sure this mission of yours has a commanding officer.
A general.
I’m betting for…
– OSS would be my guess.
– That’s a bingo!
– Is that the way you say it? “That’s a bingo.”
– You just say, “Bingo.”
– Bingo! How fun.

Get me someone on the other end of that radio with the power of the pen to authorize my, let’s call it, the terms of my conditional surrender.

Sitting in your chair, I would probably say the same thing, and 999.999 times out of a million, you would be correct.
But in the pages of history, every once in a while, fate reaches out and extends its hand.
What shall the history books read?

I should go lock the auditorium and take my place behind the screen.
So when the military history of this night is written, it will be recorded that I was part of Operation Kino from the very beginning as a double agent.
Anything I’ve done in my guise as an SS Colonel was sanctioned by the OSS as a necessary evil to establish my cover with the Germans.
And it was my placement of Lieutenant Raine’s dynamite in Hitler and Goebbels’ opera box that assured their demise.

I want my full military pension and benefits under my proper rank.
I want to receive the Congressional Medal of Honor for my invaluable assistance in the toppling of the Third Reich.
In fact, I want all the members of Operation Kino to receive the Congressional Medal of Honor.
Full citizenship for myself. Well, that goes without saying.
And I would like the United States of America to purchase property for me on Nantucket Island as a reward for all the countless lives I’ve saved by bringing the tyranny of the National Socialist Party to a swifter-than-imagined end. Do you have all that, sir?
I look forward to seeing you face to face as well, sir.

– Colonel Landa will put you and Private Utivich in a truck as prisoners.
Then he and his radio operator will get in the truck and drive to our lines.
Upon crossing our lines, Colonel Landa and his man will surrender to you.
You will then take over driving of the truck and bring them straight to me for debriefing. Is that clear, Lieutenant?
– Yes, sir.
– Over and out.

Are you the manager of this cinema? I want my money back.
That actor in the movie stinks.

– This is your premiere, you need to be out there with them.
– Normally, you would be right.
And for all the other films I do I intend to endure evenings like tonight, in the proper spirit.
However, the fact remains this film is based on my military exploits.
And in this case, my exploits consisted of killing many men.
Consequently, the part of the film that’s playing now I don’t like watching this part.
– I am sorry, Fredrick, but…
– So, I thought I’d come up here and do what I do best annoy you.
And from the look on your face, it would appear I haven’t lost my touch.
– Are you so used to the Nazis kissing your ass you’ve forgotten what the word “no” means?
No… you can’t be here!
Now go away!
Fredrick, you hurt me.
– Well, it’s nice to know you can feel something. Even if it’s just physical pain.
I’m not a man you say, “go away” to.
There’s over three hundred dead bodies in Italy, that if they could, would testify to that!

– Who wants to send a message to Germany?
I have a message for Germany.
That you are all going to die.
– Enough! Stop it!
– Turn off the projector!
– And I want you to look deep into the face of the Jew who’s going to do it!
– I don’t know what’s going on. That does not belong in my movie!
– Marcel, burn it down.
– Oui, Shosanna.
– My name is Shosanna Dreyfus, and this is the face of Jewish vengeance.

I’m officially surrendering myself over to you, Lieutenant Raine.
We’re your prisoners.
How about my knife?
Thank you very much, Colonel.

– Utivich, cuff the Colonel’s hands behind his back.
– Is that really necessary?
– I’m a slave to appearances.
Scalp Hermann.
– Are you mad? What have you done?
I made a deal with your general for that man’s life!
– Yeah, they made that deal. But they don’t give a fuck about him. They need you.
– You’ll be shot for this!
– Nah, I don’t think so. More like chewed out. I’ve been chewed out before.
You know, Utivich and myself heard that deal you made with the brass.
End the war tonight?
I’d make that deal.
How about you, Utivich? You make that deal?
– I’d make that deal.
– I don’t blame you. Damn good deal.
And that pretty little nest you feathered for yourself.
Well, if you’re willing to barbecue the whole High Command,
I suppose that’s worth certain considerations.
But I do have one question.
When you get to your little place on Nantucket Island, I imagine you are going to take off that handsome-looking SS uniform of yours.
Ain’t you?
That’s what I thought.
Now, that I can’t abide.
How about you, Utivich, can you abide it?
– Not one damn bit, sir.
– I mean, if I had my way, you’d wear that goddamn uniform for the rest of your pecker-sucking life.
But I’m aware that ain’t practical.
I mean, at some point, you’re going to have to take it off. So,
I’m going to give you a little something you can’t take off.

You know something, Utivich?
I think this just might be my masterpiece.