Let's face it, Full Metal Jacket is nothing more than a dramatic reworking of Stripes. Below is how I envision Sgt. Hartman dealing with the platoon full of hapless losers in Stripes such as Dewey Oxburger, Winger, Psycho and Ziskey.
Dewey: "Well, my name's Dewey Oxburger. My friends call me Ox. I don't know if you've noticed but I got a slight weight problem."
Sgt. Hartman: "Were you born a fat, slimy, scumbag puke piece of shit . . . or did you have to work on it?"
Winger: "Chicks dig me because I rarely wear underwear and when I do it's usually something unusual. But now I know why I have always lost women to guys like you. I mean, it's not just the uniform. It's the stories that you tell. So much fun and imagination."
Sgt. Hartman: "Bullshit! It looks to me like the best part of you ran down the crack of your mama's ass and ended up as a brown stain on the mattress."
Cruiser: "I joined the army 'cause my father and my brother were in the army. I figured I better join before I got drafted."
Sgt. Hartman: "What do we have here, a fucking comedian? . . . Hell, I like you. You can come over to my house and fuck my sister!"
Psycho: "The name's Francis Sawyer, but everybody calls me Psycho. Any of you guys call me Francis, and I'll kill you."
Sgt. Hartman: "You little piece of shit. You look like a fucking worm . . ."
Ziskey: "I'm in good shape, I'm walking tall, I'm looking good."
Sgt. Hartman: You little scumbag! I got your name. I got your ass! You will not laugh, you will not cry, you will learn by the numbers. I will teach you. Now get up, get up on your feet! You had best unfuck yourself or I will unscrew your head and shit down your neck!"
Winger: "We're all very different people. We're not Watusi, we're not Spartans, we're Americans . . . And you know what that means? Do you? That means that our forefathers were kicked out of every decent country in the world. We are the wretched refuse. We're the underdog. We're mutts."
Sgt. Hartman: "Who said that? Who the fuck said that? Who's the slimy little communist shit, tinkle-toed cocksucker down here who just signed his own death warrant? Nobody, huh? The fairy fucking godmother said it! Out-fucking-standing! I will PT you all until you fucking die! I'll PT you until your assholes are sucking buttermilk. Was it you, you scroungy little fuck, huh?"
Psycho: "I don't like no one touching my stuff. So just keep your meathooks off. If I catch any of you guys in my stuff, I'll kill you. And I don't like nobody touching me. Any of you homos touch me and I'll kill you."
Sgt. Hartman: "I'll bet you're the kind of guy that would fuck a person in the ass and not even have the goddamn common courtesy to give him a reach-around. I'll be watching you."
Ziskey: I've always been kind of a pacifist. When I was a kid, my father told me, 'Never hit anyone in anger, unless you're absolutely sure you can get away with it.' I don't know what kind of soldier I'm gonna make, but I want you guys to know that if we ever get into really heavy combat, I'll be right behind you guys. Every step of the way."
Sgt. Hartman: "I'm gonna give you three seconds, exactly three fucking seconds to wipe that stupid looking grin off your face or I will gouge out your eyeballs and skull-fuck you!"