Plastic Men, The (2025)

[bunniefuu]

I was only in my twenties,

the first time I saw a dead body.

You never forget that, really.

Until the moment of

your last breath,

it sticks with you

until the very end.

It did, for me.

For generations, US children have played

with little plastic green army men.

I did.

Along with other w*r toys, they contribute

to the socialization

of some young boys

into the idea that w*r is an exciting

and heroic adventure.

I know now that has

never been more wrong.

Oh!

Yeah.

So, I go to this girl's party,

and it's about a week

after she just beats

the living sh*t outta

my friend, right?

And I do a little recon.

While everyone's getting trashed,

I find this back window.

Mission Impossible

myself in there.

And I did my thing.

Dude.

Shut up.

Stop. I'm serious, man!

I'm telling you!

I went around and I put tuna in

every single curtain rod.

For weeks, they're trying

to figure out why this place

smells like festering

death, right?

I mean, just, just god awful rotten.

She starts going to

the p*ssy doctor.

Yeah!

She thinks she's

festerin' up the place.

A little fire in the hole.

Boom!

Dude, you are sick.

You know that, right?

Sick, who?

They wronged me.

That's just the way it goes, man.

f*ck 'em if they

can't take a joke.

How did you talk me into this?

Beats the hell outta me.

f*cking hot as sh*t!

Come on, you piece of sh*t.

sh*t.

Come on!

You're glad you came!

Yeah. No.

Oh, well, you weren't

complaining too much,

when you were in line for

the El Buffet, last night.

-Yeah!

-Get it, baby!

Yeah!

Dude, that was you.

Are you sure?

Yes.

No, but in all seriousness,

it was good to see you

smile for once, man.

You worry too damn much.

I can't help it.

Yes, we can.

Yeah, I'm sure.

Especially, if you got

a nice eleven-inch c*ck.

-Dude.

-Oh, I'm serious, man.

I'm serious.

Dude, what are you

f*cking doing, man?

The truck needs a little car wash, baby!

Man, come on! Dude, come on!

I told you, not in the truck!

Little car wash for Daddy!

Oh!

Come on, man! You get an anxiety attack

if we leave the zip code.

I mean, that's not normal behavior.

No f*cking way!

Yeah!

"Normal." Right!

You're welcome.

Dude, we were in Mexico.

Precisely.

It was kinda nice.

Boom!

This is what I'm talkin' about!

That's what I'm talking about, man!

Come on! Loosen up!

Life's too short.

-Relax.

-Just relax.

Yeah.

I can do that.

-Boom!

-Dude, what?

Come on, man. Who do you

think you're talkin' to?

I can totally relax!

All right.

Tell me a joke. Go ahead.

Come on. Make me laugh.

R-E-L-A

Dude, what the f*ck, man?

I'm f*cking driving!

-You trying to get us k*lled?

-Oh, my god.

Where did you get your license?

Oh, man. Wake me up

when we get there.

You drive slower

than my grandmother.

Dude, I'm about to kick your

greasy a*s out of this car

and make you walk,

how's that for relaxed?

Well, why don't you drop me off

at your mom's on the way?

You wish.

That I do.

That I do.

Any more cold ones?

That's doubtful.

But I can check.

Among men too

on issues like the w*r itself.

Hold on.

Can't reach 'em.

Did you leave 'em?

I, I don't think so.

And you volunteer in your regular army.

Yeah, I didn't volunteer to go to Vietnam.

I did volunteer

to come into the service.

Tell me this, Jobs.

We've lost something

over 40,000 men now.

Forty thousand American lives.

As far as you're concerned,

it's worth it?

You f*ck' drank 'em, didn't you?

Watch out!

Dude! What the f*ck?

What did we hit? What, what?

I'm f*ck' with you, man!

Come on, come on!

Come on!

Come on.

Come on.

You got it. You got it.

You got it. Come on.

sh*t!

You tried that about

a hundred times, dude.

Dude, it's getting cold.

You got a sweater?

Yeah, in the bag.

Speedy, what is this?

That is pot.

Okay, Speedy, I need you to tell me,

I need you to explain to me

that we didn't go all the way

to Mexico for you to buy pot.

We went all the way

to Mexico to buy pot.

f*ck!

What?

Speedy, I need you

to roll down the window

and throw that sh*t out

of this car, right now.

-sh*t.

-sh*t.

-I'm stuck, man!

-Well, figure it out!

-Yeah, I'm trying!

-Okay! Okay.

-Dude, f*ck!

-Okay

That's good. I got it.

Okay! Just, just

-You got it? Okay.

-I got it.

Flask.

Hello, Officer.

How can I help you?

What you boys doing out here?

Well, we were on a trip

and our car broke down.

We were just trying to

get back home. That's all.

You alright there?

I'm gonna need you to step

out of the vehicle, sir.

Officer

Like I said, we're just

trying to get home.

I need to inspect

this vehicle, right now.

So, I need the two of

you to get outside.

Put your hands on the hood.

This isn't f*cking happening.

Put your hands on the hood.

We're just

That's you too, passenger.

Officer

I'm not askin'!

Step out of the vehicle!

Let's go!

-Get outta the vehicle!

-No!

I'm saddened to see

such potential as yourself

drift into a darker place.

You've clearly forgotten

what is right, young man,

and I hope this may

set you in that path.

Your actions were a disgrace.

That is true.

You have a visitor.

However, with your clean record

and no prior history,

I am giving you a choice.

To go to prison,

or to serve in the Vietnam w*r.

These proceedings can continue

when you've made that decision.

You have a visitor.

My name is Jonathan Teller,

and I am a haunted man.

I guess this is a good place

to start as any.

If I go back any further,

you'd despise me.

But don't give up on me just yet.

Hi, Jonathan.

Look at me.

Jonathan, look at me.

Jonathan, look at me, please.

-After everything that you put me--

-What do you want me to say?

Jesus Christ, Jonathan.

Did you really think

that I wouldn't find out?

That what? That I was just gonna

come here one day,

and not notice that

you weren't here?

And that you went off to fight

some stupid, unimaginable,

not to mention unwinnable w*r,

clear across the other

side of the world, right?

Is it true?

It was that,

or rot in here for the rest of my life.

What do you want me to do?

Hey.

I'm here.

I always will be.

Always thinking of yourself.

Hands off the glass!

I just want you to know, you know

Sorry.

It's hard to describe

how I felt in those days.

It was as if I'd walked through

a minefield blindfolded.

Somehow ending up a hole,

in the middle of a concrete jungle.

Completely unaware that I was crawling

further away from myself.

Yeah, we got a lot of vets here,

of course, you know.

You're one of our first Vietnam.

Now, you gotta be a little

careful in the neighborhood.

It's not bad, but it's not good.

But I'm sure you know how

to look after yourself.

You know, just keep

your eyes open.

But I think you're

gonna like it here.

Well

This is you.

What are my odds?

Excuse me?

Of getting m*rder*d in here.

You hear me, m*therf*cker?

Suck my

Oh, right. Well

The walls are thin,

so try and keep it down.

Thank you.

Good day.

I had lost my way.

But soon, I would find it in

the most unusual of places.

I just didn't know it yet.

In the quiet of morning

When the world is still asleep

No, no, no

I'm sitting here all alone

With the thoughts you keep

Thinkin' about the road I traveled

All the miles that I've gave

Attention, all shoppers.

What do you think you're doing?

Canned goods and bread and flour

don't get stocked

next to cereal!

I can't have this liability.

Don't make me ask you twice.

Do you understand?

Yes, sir.

Despite the facade of normalcy

that I tried to maintain,

I had the strangest feeling

that something was

closing in on me.

Something

that came home with me.

I'm okay!

All right, we've been hit!

We are going down!

Charlie 3125, we are under fire!

We are going down!

I'm losing my controls!

Come on!

-Come on! We're going down!

-We're going down!

No!

As the days

faded into the next,

I felt trapped.

Like a prisoner,

caged by the bars

of their own mind.

You have a visitor.

Look after yourself.

I think you're gonna like it here.

I feared my wall of sanity

was beginning to fall.

And just when I thought

the dust settled,

and the echoes of

screaming g*nf*re faded,

my true nightmare

was only beginning.

Relax.

Why are you doing this to me?

Relax, man.

No!

A year had passed.

And although I was free,

the blinders that were

permanently latched to my eyes

kept me buried

within those walls.

Clean up on aisle four.

Large spill.

That's aisle four.

Clean up.

Don't make me ask you twice,

people, or it's your a*s.

Come on now. Chop, chop.

That's when I found myself

in the last place I ever expected.

But looking back,

the one place I needed to be the most.

Hi.

I'm Jonathan

and I'm a Vietnam veteran.

Hey.

-Welcome Jon.

-Welcome, brother.

-Welcome, Jonathan.

-Welcome to the family, brother.

Alright.

Anyone wanna start us off today

with a share?

Not me.

I'll go.

Hey, guys.

Happy to-- happy to be here.

You know me. I'm no stranger here.

I just wanted to say

it's been a while since my last

quote-unquote outburst.

Pretty proud of myself.

I feel like I'm making strides.

Went on a camping trip with

some veteran buddies, recently.

It felt like it's what I needed

to unwind, to get away.

And that evening, I came home

and the closet was empty,

the car was gone,

and I haven't seen my wife

and kid in a year and a half.

You've come to the right place.

Keep coming back.

Keep coming back!

Keep coming back.

Keep coming back.

Now, Tommy,

thirty-four suicide attempts

Tommy.

Thirty-four suicide attempts

is considered a red alert.

Okay?

Yeah, 'cause he ain't doing it right.

-Mr. Abbot.

-g*dd*mn it, Abbot!

If you don't shut the f*ck up,

I'm gonna break my foot off

in your g*dd*mn a*s, boy!

I'm telling you, every g*dd*mn week,

you come in with--

Gentlemen.

-Get the f*ck outta here.

-I expect more from you.

-Mr. Abbot!

-Come on, b*tch!

Come on, Sanders! Bring it on!

-Mr. Abbot!

-You wanna go, m*therf*cker?

We have a newcomer in the room.

Please, Jim.

Gentlemen, enough.

Please. Jim?

Please ignore him.

-You know he likes to get people--

-What you gonna do, Sanders?

Talking sh*t, m*therf*cker!

Come on!

Stop it!

Mr. Abbot, you are

causing a ruckus here.

Who are you calling boy, boy?

Who are you calling boy, boy?

Gentlemen, I

Just sit down!

Sit down. Gentlemen.

-Shut up, b*tch!

-Jim!

Jim!

It wasn't long before I went back,

but the unspeakable

horrors we witnessed

offered its own kind of trauma.

I saw it on their faces, every time.

Clean up.

Come on now, chop chop.

The w*r claimed the lives

of more than 58,000 of us.

For the ones that came back,

there were no welcome home parades,

no nurses to kiss upon return.

We were not heroes.

And we were discarded for it.

No matter how hard we tried,

we could never escape

what we did over there.

That was our curse.

On the morning of that day,

I found myself drifting

somewhere between

the depths of my purgatory,

and what I imagined

hell would look like.

I dreamed of ending it all,

for an accident.

A head-on collision.

To make friends

with a b*llet in a chamber.

God, how I would thank the maker.

It was only a matter of time now.

I ran to the only place I could.

September 7th, 1970.

That anger and give it--

A date I will never forget.

Let him carry your burden!

-The night of my last meeting.

-You must be outta your god damn mind.

You think I'm

-f*ck you!

-f*ck you!

f*ck you!

You think I'm touching

some kinda f*gg*t?

Oh, all right. Oh.

They made me k*ll babies,

but I ain't doing that.

They f*ck' made me! They made me!

Christ's sake, if you don't like it,

then get the f*ck out!

Go f*ck your mother, you philistine!

Language!

All right! All right, all right, let's

Let's recenter.

Recenter.

Gentlemen.

Gentlemen, calm.

Calm.

Let him take your burden.

Let him take your burden.

Look into your brother's eyes.

Let him feel your pain.

He knows your pain.

Let it out, gentlemen.

Let him take your burden from you.

Embrace your brothers.

Let go of that pain.

Let go of that pain.

Let him take your burden.

Let him hold it away.

Let, oh!

Good.

Good. Gentle!

Gentle now.

Gentle now.

Let it out. Let it out.

Is this what you imagined

hell would be like?

Okay, let go.

I've already been there, brother.

Focus on your brother.

And breathe.

Deep breathe.

Nice.

You know, you smell like

somethin' rottin' around you, brother.

And when you've been a tunnel rat

for as long as I have, livin' in the dark,

you tend to trust your other senses.

What're you talking about?

I'm sayin' that you got a passenger

on your shoulders, brother.

Death!

-f*ck off!

-You reek of it!

It's okay. It's okay.

Just let it go.

Let him take that

What did you do?

Come on, did you touch the devil

or did he touch you?

How the f*ck would

you know what I did?

Oh, brother, you went

down the mouth of madness,

and now you're looking

for penance, aren't you?

Yes, isn't that

You're wrong.

Oh, am I?

Yeah.

Sure I am.

Let it go.

I don't wanna see your

face here ever again.

You hear me?

What're you talking about?

I'm sayin'

that these are my people.

My camp.

Mine.

You go find your own. You understand?

-Man, you're f*ck' crazy.

-Yeah.

According to my last

psych evaluation, yes.

Did you know that there are

several ways to make napalm?

All you need is a

little OJ and gasoline.

Can you just stop?

Just f*ck' stop.

Listen to me.

This is my group.

I have nowhere else to go.

Well, then you better

understand somethin', brother.

Let it go.

The ghosts of the people we k*ll

will haunt us

for the rest of our lives.

Believe me. I know.

I know. I know.

-Gentlemen.

-I know. Yeah.

What do I do?

Take him as an example of courage.

Oh, brother, this is all one big bucket

of piss that we're drownin' in.

Let it all go.

Do yourself a favor.

-Wonderful

-Make it quick.

That's what you do.

That's it.

No. Yeah, yeah,

yeah, yeah, yeah.

Make it quick, baby.

Yeah, make it quick.

-No.

-No, yeah.

-Make it quick, you gotta make it--

-No! No!

We ain't never getting right

with the wrongs we done, brother!

We ain't never getting

right for nothin'!

You hear me? Nothin'!

Oh, oh, oh!

I control my life and what I do!

I do! I do!

I do! I do!

'Cause I'm a baby k*ller!

No, Mr. Abbot! No!

Oh, my god!

-f*ck!

-Somebody call an ambulance!

Oh, my god. Oh, my god.

Somebody!

The time is 05:30.

David Brinkley is on vacation.

I'm Chad Huntley.

For an hour and a half today,

the normally placid university

and capital city of Austin, Texas

was held in the grip of a terror,

which began in k*lling

and ended in k*lling.

A maddened former Marine,

a 24-year-old student

in the architectural school

named Charles Whitman

first k*lled his wife

and mother in their home.

Then he fled to the top

of the university tower,

a 27-story building, and

from there, shot to death

at least 13 other people

and wounded at least 31.

The carnage did not end until police

ended Whitman's life with several b*ll*ts.

Here is a report from Neil Speltz

of KTBC TV Austin.

A marine veteran

who was an expert marksman

shot and k*lled ten

unsuspecting noontime strollers

on the University of Texas campus today.

And then he was cut down, an hour

and a half later, by an Austin policeman.

When the sh**ting ended,

30 others were seriously injured.

And then the bodies of the

alleged sn*per's mother and wife

were found in his apartment, both dead.

The tally at this hour

is 13 dead, 30 wounded,

and that figure includes the death of

the man police say did the sh**ting.

A sn*per identified as

24-year-old Charles J. Whitman

started sh**ting from

the observation deck

of the 27-story-tall university tower.

He fell moving targets blocks away.

The terror-filled

90 minutes started

at five minutes

before 12:00 Austin time,

and it was 01:22 when policeman

Ramiro Martinez shot Whitman.

Those who were

felled with b*ll*ts

from the high-caliber r*fle

were pulled to safety,

as soon as possible

by officials and passers-by.

Others crouched in terror.

Heavily armed Austin Police,

sheriff's deputies,

highway patrolmen,

and Texas Rangers,

converged on the campus

and began returning

the sn*per's fire.

But he was well entrenched,

and he had a fantastic vantage point

of the entire area.

I'm not paying you

two ladies to watch TV.

Reporter Charles Ward was

on the scene, as the g*n--

Chop chop. Get to work!

Sir! Yes, sir!

Holy f*ck' heaven!

k*ll!

Or be k*lled!

k*ll or be k*lled!

k*ll or be k*lled!

k*ll or be k*lled!

k*ll!

Someone once said

hell is an illusion.

But the first real casualty of w*r

is the soul.

I woke up, months later,

barely holding on.

My grip on reality faltering

in a sterile fortress

of white walls and

unending corridors.

I was surrounded by

others whose minds

had also betrayed them.

And I couldn't

help but wonder if,

if I would ever find a way to

piece myself back together again,

or if I was destined

to be a lost toy soldier.

Never remembered.

As if I never existed

in the first place.

But

She wouldn't let that happen.

I'm not supposed to be here!

Get off! Get off of me!

Please don't

No!

I swear. I swear

We gonna have

ourselves a pool party tonight!

Watch your six.

Watch out.

God, Abbot.

Don't you sleep?

God doesn't have anything

to do with this sh*t h*le.

But you can call me Jesus Christ.

And believe me,

I would staple my eyes shut to sleep

for one g*dd*mn minute,

but then the demons come.

Leave him.

Let him lay where he fell.

Give him the common

decency to die

on the patch of f*cking concrete

that chose him.

That's the least you could do.

Death gives you perspective, doesn't it?

We're not dying, man.

Oh, that's where you're wrong, brother.

We're already dead.

You know, it's funny

how people find it odd.

They're always so

confused about life

and how the hell things

didn't go as planned.

And that's 'cause

they're all in a coma.

Gone.

And it's not supposed

to make sense.

And if you learn that,

I mean, truly embrace that,

you'll live a better life.

It happened again.

Where were you this time?

Where were you this time?

f*ck you.

That dark is all we have left.

You better get used to that, brother.

No. I'll never get used to it!

Oh, no. One day you

will learn to embrace it.

Tell her we have to.

We don't have any other f*cking

chance, man. We're gone!

All the wisest do not

let themselves be tricked

a second time.

What the f*ck does that mean?

Hey.

Wait.

Are we the rats?

Are we the rats?

Are we the rats?

Are we the rats?

Are we the rats?

Are we the rats?

They'd let me go a year earlier

at the behest of Richard Nixon.

I'd crawled four stories

below Hanoi, Vietnam.

I mapped out dozens of tunnels,

detonated 48 bombs.

How many lives have I destroyed?

How many I ended?

I'll never know.

What I do know

is that I met you on

the final day of 1972.

The same day I resolved

to k*ll myself.

-Hey, sweetie.

-Hey, baby.

-What can I get you today?

-What you got?

In a barren motel room

with a fifth of Tennessee rye,

and a pang of shame permeating

the recesses of my soul,

I vowed that this was it.

That I would give myself

the discharge I deserved.

For hours, I obsessed about doing it.

I remember the seconds

felt like lifetimes,

but I couldn't do it.

I couldn't experience what my

victims had, those years before.

I could live with nothing.

Piece of sh*t.

Only the tortured echoes from the past

that were forever by my side.

I walked for what

felt like days.

I roamed the common,

scaled the hell,

and meandered into a

labyrinth of the world

I no longer remember.

While the pedestrians howled

at the world around me,

I trudged further into the

darkness I had loathed so much.

I thought, or

rather, hoped, that it might

wash away the patina of guilt

that had coagulated

around my heart.

I saw my way out.

Hearing about the massive

invasion of South Vietnam

by the communist armies

of North Vietnam.

I k*lled that little girl.

It wasn't the first time,

nor the last.

And the efforts we are--

I didn't even know

who I was anymore.

What I did know

was that I was a m*rder*r.

And what we have

done since then,

to end American

involvement in the w*r

In the eyes of my superiors,

I had served my

country honorably

and I was thusly discharged

with such distinction.

"Distinction".

If they only knew.

And then

Hawthorn Street.

This is Hawthorn Street.

I saw you.

To this day, I don't

know what made me stop,

but there you were.

Next stop will be

the last stop on this bus.

I'd never

seen anything so beautiful.

You were wearing

a teal ball gown

that appeared to me to be

both regal and

ridiculous.

Your brown hair was matted

to the right side of your face.

And a galaxy of freckles

dusted your shoulders.

I couldn't speak.

When I joined you at the seat,

you looked at me with

those big green eyes,

and I could tell that

you'd been crying.

And I said

I, I

Ladies and gentlemen,

this is the last stop.

Please exit the bus.

Yeah. Yeah, I'm, I'm fine.

Where are you headed?

Don't you speak?

I

I don't, I don't know.

I don't think I've ever known.

Okay.

Yeah, yeah. I'll I'll play along.

Who's there?

Mustache who?

Oh, it's

It's been a long time since I

Thank you.

Yeah.

Before I knew it,

you snatched my hand

and led me on a dash through

downtown and into a diner.

We sat at the booth

at the five and dime

and talked like old friends.

We laughed as easily

as we lamented.

And you confessed over coffee

that you were engaged to a man

you didn't love.

A banker from some

line of nobility.

Either way,

his parents were throwing a

soiree to ring in the new year.

Hence the dress.

For my part, I shared more of myself

than I could have ever

imagined possible at that time.

Didn't mention Vietnam,

but I got a sense that you could see

there was a w*r

waging inside me.

Still

Your eyes offered no pity.

And I loved you for it.

Last many, many years that

people gathered here on New Year's.

The only year that ever had

that small a crowd was 1917.

Hell of a way to chime it in?

You remind me of someone.

And in just a few moments,

we'll be turning over to look at

She speaks?

That will signify New Year's

to an awful lot of people all over

the United States and Canada.

We're just getting ready to close up.

Can I get you guys anything? Dessert?

-Apple pie.

-Pie.

A moment ago,

I was planning to end my life.

In an instant,

everything had changed.

Now I suddenly wanted pie?

What was happening to me?

Who were you?

Why are they there?

Very good question!

Could you excuse me

for just a moment?

Very unusual

and a very strange way

to celebrate New Year's.

Moments from now,

this giant crowd herein

Hey!

Judy.

My name is Judy.

Judy.

I remember consulting

myself in the mirror,

wondering if I should kiss you.

It was New Year's in minutes, after all.

No, I couldn't do that.

Could I?

If I should tell you what I'd done

from the tunnels of that

village a year before

If I should return

to the .44 caliber

that was tucked in my waistband

I decided, ultimately,

that I was unworthy

of the resuscitation

this stranger in a

ball gown had given me,

and to turn my back on such sweet

serendipity would be the real disgrace.

On my way back to the booth,

my heart thumped in my chest

like an angry judge's gavel.

And a future,

our future,

flicked in my mind.

When I reached the booth,

I had no idea what

I was going to find.

You were gone.

As strangely as our

union had begun,

so too had it ended.

I was devastated.

But somehow,

I knew.

I went back to that diner

every day, for a year.

I think it's a parking lot now,

but

I never saw you again.

Are you good, doll?

Can I get you anything else?

From Time Square, a roar

like you've never heard before.

Here we go with the countdown.

Five

Four. Three.

Two.

One and happy, happy,

happy, happy, happy

I am an old man now,

and all I know of you is your name

and that you lived in this city once

and even by some miracle,

if I happened upon you,

I'm not sure I would recognize you.

Time is cruel that way.

In these intervening 42 years,

I've lived a good life.

I've loved a good woman.

I've raised a good man.

I have hard days, too.

My wife passed away

four years ago,

and my son, the year before.

I can still smell the smoke over Vietnam.

But then I think of you.

I never really stopped

thinking of you.

So, wherever you've been,

wherever you are,

and wherever you're going,

know this.

You're always with me.

But as I cast this coin into

the wishing well of the cosmos,

it occurs to me,

after a million what-ifs in

a lifetime of lost sleep,

that our connection

wasn't missed at all.

I met you on that night, back in 1972.