Lt. Cmdr. Tom Dodge is assigned as Captain to the USS Stingray, an old diesel driven submarine that has seen better days. With a crew that consists only of weird guys (and a gal), he's ... See full summary »

[while all the other crew members are working hard cleaning the boat, Stepanak is sitting in a lawn chair and sunning himself]
Lt. Comd. Dodge: Stepanek, what are you doing?
Stepanek: As little as possible, sir. I'm a detriment to the entire operation. Total morale crusher.
Lt. Comd. Dodge: You know, of course, that the submarine service is entirely volunteer. All you have to do is quit.
Stepanek: My old man won't let me.
Stepanek: He's an admiral. Thinks sub duty will shape me up. Ha!
Lt. Comd. Dodge: Well, I'm afraid you leave me no choice, son, but to relocate you.
Stepanek: Really?
Lt. Comd. Dodge: Really.
[Seaman Buckman passes by]
Lt. Comd. Dodge: Buckman!
Seaman Buckman: [suddenly stops and spins around... ] Yes, Sir?
[... and accidentally knocks Stepanek over the side and right into a trough of oil waste]
Lt. Comd. Dodge: Thank you, Buckman. That'll be all.
Stepanek: Sit on it and rotate, sir.
Executive Officer Martin T. 'Marty' Pascal: [shouts] What? What did you say, sailor? You can't say that!
[Turns to Dodge, still shouting]
Executive Officer Martin T. 'Marty' Pascal: He can't say that!
Lt. Comd. Dodge: Pascal, down. Down. Heel.
Stepanek: By the Uniform Code of Military Justice that constitutes gross insubordination, punishable by one month in a brig. I'm ready to go, sir.
Lt. Comd. Dodge: Board the boat. I like a challenge.
Stepanek: You'll throw me off within a week. I'm a dedicated pain in the butt, sir.
Lt. Comd. Dodge: Stepanek.
Stepanek: What?
Lt. Comd. Dodge: If I throw you off... it'll be in the middle of the Atlantic. Board the damn boat.
Seaman Nitro 'Mike': [testing wires] 1-A... cold. 1-B... cold. 1-C...
[sparks fly]
Seaman Nitro 'Mike': Hot!
Lt. Comd. Dodge: [watching Nitro from the upper deck] Let me guess. Our electrician.
Executive Officer Martin T. 'Marty' Pascal: [dejectedly] Yes, sir.
Rear Admiral Yancy Graham: [about the War Game] I expect you to abide by the rules of this War Game.
Lt. Comd. Dodge: [On the Stingray] Since when did the rules ever apply to you?
Rear Admiral Yancy Graham: Watch it! Don't you realise that you are addressing a supirior officer?
Lt. Comd. Dodge: No... Merely a higher ranking one! CATCH US IF YOU CAN!
Stepanek: Any way I can cause a problem?
"Sonar" Lovacelli: No. We're pretty well covered for now.
Stepanek: Shit.
Lt. Comd. Dodge: Little young for an XO?
Executive Officer Martin T. 'Marty' Pascal: Excellence knows no age, Sir!
Lt. Comd. Dodge: Speaking of age, what do you think about our boat, Pascal?
Executive Officer Martin T. 'Marty' Pascal: I feel I need a tetanus shot just from looking at it. The only thing holding her together, are the bird droppings, sir.
Lt. Comd. Dodge: Oh gee. Now I've gone and done it, ruined my career.
Captain Carl Knox: [Reading a radio message] Apparently not. This is just in from COMSUBLANT. You're to report to Norfolk immediately... to take command of your own submarine.
Lt. Comd. Dodge: That's not funny.
Captain Carl Knox: No, it's not. That's why they decoded it twice.
Stepanek: [after Dodge leaves Lt. Lake's quarters] Polishing the ol' torpedo sir?
Lt. Cmdr Dodge: Shut up Stepanek.
Stepanek: Thank you sir. It's good to be noticed.
Lt. Comd. Dodge: All right, ladies and gentlemen. We have fulfilled every requirement of this mission except one: Norfolk. Presently, there are several ships positioned outside the harbor to intercept us. To get in, we're gonna have to use a tactic that is somewhat bizarre, and extremely risky. If any of you feel it's not worth it, please let me know now.
Seaman Stanley 'Spots' Sylvesterson: Uh, actually, sir, I think we prefer to go with the bizarre and risky. Worked for us so far.
Lt. Cmdr Dodge: Men, at ease. I'd like to introduce you to the newest member of our crew, Lt. Emily Lake. Emily is part of a pilot program to test the feasibility of women serving on submarines. She's going to be our diving officer.
Stepanek: Can she do a one-and-a-half inward back in the layout position?
Lt. Cmdr Dodge: All right, look, gentlemen! I know this is an unusual situation. Can't be easy for Lt. Lake here to be thrown into a jungle such as this, and I know it will make things hard on all of us...
Lt. Cmdr Dodge: Let me re-phrase that. It's going to make things *difficult* on all of us as well. But if we just work together as a team, I'm sure we can handle ourselves...
Lt. Cmdr Dodge: *Comport* ourselves as professionals. That is all.
Seaman Nitro 'Mike': Radio's workin' like a swiss... car.
Lt. Comd. Dodge: All right, everybody, it's time to kick this pig! Leave Graham squealing from the feeling!
Planesman 1st Class Jefferson 'R.J.' Jackson: Squeaking from the freaking.
Seaman Buckman: Oinking from the boinking.
Seaman Nitro 'Mike': Cool! Did we hit an iceberg?
"Sonar" Lovacelli: Off the coast of Virginia?
Rear Admiral Yancy Graham: Now, call me a prude if you want, but I don't think it's good policy for the Navy to hand over a billion-dollar piece of equipment to a man who has "Welcome Aboard" tattooed on his penis.
Executive Officer Martin T. 'Marty' Pascal: Sonar Technician Second Class, E.T. Lovacelli, sir! Goes by the nickname "Sonar."
Lt. Comd. Dodge: Welcome aboard, Sonar.
"Sonar" Lovacelli: Uh, 'scuse me, sir. This is an actual Navy submarine? Not a float in a parade or something?
Lt. Comd. Dodge: Afraid so, Sonar.
"Sonar" Lovacelli: Huh... isn't that odd?
[he shuffles past Dodge and starts up the gangplank]
Lt. Comd. Dodge: [aside to Pascal] Don't tell me - deaf as Beethoven.
Executive Officer Martin T. 'Marty' Pascal: [whispering] Oh, no. Great ears, sir. Watch what you say around him, he hears everything. His last C.O. thought he was a security risk.
[at the top of the gangplank, Sonar turns around]
"Sonar" Lovacelli: [yells] Uh, excuse me, sir! I don't hear everything. And I'm quite trustworthy too.
Lt. Comd. Dodge: Right.
Adm. Dean Winslow: [after having heard about Dodge's "execution" of Pascal] He made him *walk the plank*?
Seaman Buckman: The name's Buckman.
Seaman Nitro 'Mike': Uh... Nitro, hi.
Seaman Buckman: Interesting nickname, what's your real name?
Seaman Nitro 'Mike': Nitro.
Seaman Nitro 'Mike': I'm working on a nickname, though.
Seaman Buckman: Oh yeah?
Seaman Nitro 'Mike': Yeah. Listen to this... Mike.
Executive Officer Martin T. 'Marty' Pascal: Jesus, Buckman! This stuff's been on the Stingray since Korea! This can expired in 1966!
Seaman Buckman: [tasting contents of can] What's the matter, sir? It still tastes like creamed corn.
Executive Officer Martin T. 'Marty' Pascal: Except it's *deviled ham*!
Seaman Buckman: Now that would be a problem.
[during their first dive, Lt. Howard attaches the ends of a string to the opposite sides of the engine room]
Lt,. Howard, Chief Engineer: Now... keep an eye on this string, 'cause the water pressure is gonna squeeze the hull of this boat like an empty beer can.
[laughs maniacally]
Lt. Comd. Dodge: Hearing anything unusual, Sonar?
"Sonar" Lovacelli: Uh, nothing much, sir. Buckman's eating an Oreo up in the galley... Stepanak's taking a leak.
Lt. Comd. Dodge: Somebody find Buckman, launch him out a torpedo tube.
"Sonar" Lovacelli: [Whispering, and pointing straight up] Sir, it's the Orlando. Someone just dropped 45 cents.
Lt. Comd. Dodge: Are you sure?
"Sonar" Lovacelli: Oh, yeah. A quarter and 2 dimes.
Executive Officer Martin T. 'Marty' Pascal: [yelling] Buckman! There was a fingernail in my food, ya fatass moron! Yesterday, it was a Band-Aid!
Seaman Buckman: Sorry, sir. The Band-Aid was holding the fingernail on.
Executive Officer Martin T. 'Marty' Pascal: What else do you put in your sauce, Buckman?
Seaman Buckman: It's an old family recipe, sir. It's a secret.
Executive Officer Martin T. 'Marty' Pascal: Oh, my God! There's cockroaches in the flour! Your cigar ash is in the spaghetti!
Lt. Comd. Dodge: [Addresses the crew after they clean up the Stingray] Well done, guys! She may not be the youngest girl at the ball, but she'll turn a head or two. If she runs half as well as she looks, we may even survive. Dive test tomorrow morning at 0700. The rest of you are on shore leave until...
[He pauses and notices Lt. Lake. Her clothes have been shrunken and now hug her form]
Lt. Comd. Dodge: Lt. Lake... you're... almost out of uniform. Now, either you have miscalculated your dress size, or there has been some foul play!
Stepanek: [Raises his hand] Hey, if it's a disqualifying offense, I would like to take full and sole responsiblity, sir.
Lt. Comd. Dodge: [Ignoring Stepanek] Gentleman, either you tell me who is responsible for this or shore leave is canceled.
[Spots and Buckman smile and stay silent]
Lt. Comd. Dodge: Very well. Everybody back in the boat!
Executive Officer Martin T. 'Marty' Pascal: [Crew groans] You heard the captain! Back into the boat!
Lt. Comd. Dodge: [as Lake walks with the rest of the crew back to the sub] Lt. Lake. I'm sorry about that. It won't happen again.
Lt. Emily Lake, Diving Officer: Thank you very much, sir, but I can take care of myself.
[She awkwardly walks back to the sub due to the tight uniform restricting her]
Seaman Nitro 'Mike': Radio call for you, Cap'n. Some guy named Graminahamham.
Executive Officer Martin T. 'Marty' Pascal: Now, about my transfer... I mean, this post could seriously jeopardize my chances for advancement. I mean... I am *this* close to Command, sir. If I could...
Lt. Comd. Dodge: Forget it. You think you are the only one embarrassed to be here? You think this is the command I've dreamed about? Look, we are all in this together, mister! And you and your career are in the hands of those very assholes... including this one. Have I made myself clear?
Executive Officer Martin T. 'Marty' Pascal: [sighs] Yes, sir.
Lt. Comd. Dodge: Dismissed.
Seaman Nitro 'Mike': [singing like Sinatra while working on the radio] I'm gonna feel the way I do today, 'cause you-you nutsy chick, you broad-you make me feel so young. Boom.
Seaman Nitro 'Mike': Oh boys, that was terrible. I'm going out, I'm gonna have a smoke. When I come back, get the horn section figured out, I can't work like this.
[Cuts a wire and gets zapped, a radio tuning sound is heard. He drops his tool, pauses, then picks it up and continues working, though now in an announcer's voice]
Seaman Nitro 'Mike': Two on, two out, Bonds is up again. Swung on, oh! That struck the ballgirl, knocked her cold! Today's game, by the way, is brought to you by...
Lt. Comd. Dodge: That boy's absorbed a lot of voltage.
Lt. Cmdr Dodge: Let's kick this pig!
Lt. Comd. Dodge: [a phone call for Dodge has come in from Admiral Graham, Nitro has patched it through] Dodge here. Stairway to Heaven. Led Zepplin, 1974 right? Okay!
Lt. Comd. Dodge: [to the crew] Hey good news everybody! We just won the Billy Joel tickets and WROK t-shirts!
Lt. Comd. Dodge: [as the crew chuckles, to Nitro] Nitro... You want to get me Admiral Graham now?
[Nitro scrambles to connect the call]
Rear Admiral Yancy Graham: [Thinking he is about to win the war game against Dodge] I gotcha now, Popeye!
[Buckman has just let go a huge fart]
Captain Carl Knox: Hear something?
Orlando Sonarman: Yeah. Almost sounded like... an explosion.
Lt. Comd. Dodge: Someone find Buckman and launch him out a torpedo tube!
Stepanek: What's our mission? Rescue Gilligan?
Seaman Buckman: Hey, Nitro, isnt't that one of my chickens?
Seaman Nitro 'Mike': No, it's a, uh, parrot, uhh, from the Carribean.
Seaman Buckman: Well, don't let it fly away. That's supper.
Seaman Nitro 'Mike': Arr.
Lt. Emily Lake, Diving Officer: So what's that tattoo that I've heard so much about?
Lt. Comd. Dodge: [Spotting Stepank arrive with a pair of Shore patrolmen] Oh good - the Chaplin's arrived!
Rear Admiral Yancy Graham: Dodge, it's good to see you again. It's been four years.
Lt. Comd. Dodge: Something like that, sir. Not since we were both at Kings Bay.
Rear Admiral Yancy Graham: Well, you are about to join the elite of the submarine fleet. The very best the United States Navy has to offer.
Lt. Comd. Dodge: Damn good feeling, sir.
Rear Admiral Yancy Graham: [Notices a ship] As a matter of fact, there she is now. Your new boat.
[Dodge excitedly turns and looks and his look changes to shock as he sees it's an old rusty sub]
Rear Admiral Yancy Graham: U.S.S. Stingray, SS-161.
Lt. Comd. Dodge: That? This can't be my boat, sir.
Rear Admiral Yancy Graham: Oh, it's most certainly is. Belao class, refitted 1961.
Lt. Comd. Dodge: Belao class? That's a diesel sub! Oh, this is a joke, right? The Navy doesn't even use diesels now!
Rear Admiral Yancy Graham: Well, they do now, she's been recommissioned.
Lt. Comd. Dodge: Well, no disrespect to the USS Rustoleum here, but I'd be better off in the Merrimak! I was trained to command a nuclear boat!
Rear Admiral Yancy Graham: Are you refusing to take command?
Lt. Comd. Dodge: [pauses, then sighs] No, sir.
Rear Admiral Yancy Graham: Good. Meet your crew here tomorrow morning, 0700.
Lt. Comd. Dodge: Are they also left over from World War II, sir?
Rear Admiral Yancy Graham: No, Captain. They've been handpicked... by me.
Lt. Comd. Dodge: [after the Stingray is able to avoid the Orlando and end their full silence] Stepanek, You missed a good opportunity there. One noise out of you, we would have been in a lot of trouble.
Stepanek: That would be unethical, sir. I only intend to screw myself. That would've screwed everybody.
Adm. Dean Winslow: [after Dodge has "taken" Charleston] Chalk one up for the Diesel Navy!
Seaman Nitro 'Mike': Radio call for you, sir. It's that General What's-his-name again.
Captain Carl Knox: Great! We just chased down a boat full of beered up fishermen!
Lt. Comd. Dodge: [after evading the Orlando] Mr. Pascal, let's go to Charleston Harbor and blow something up.
Executive Officer Martin T. 'Marty' Pascal: Now we're talking.
"Sonar" Lovacelli: [concerned] Are we really gonna blow something up, sir?
Lt. Comd. Dodge: Oh no, Sonar. We just use flares.
Executive Officer Martin T. 'Marty' Pascal: [Agitated] I mean, I know why you're here. But, I don't know why I was even considered for such an assignment.
Lt. Cmdr Dodge: Excuse me. Excuse me. Why am I here?
Executive Officer Martin T. 'Marty' Pascal: You know?
Executive Officer Martin T. 'Marty' Pascal: Your thing?
Lt. Cmdr Dodge: What thing?
Executive Officer Martin T. 'Marty' Pascal: The wienie tattoo.
Lt. Cmdr Dodge: [laughs] Wow. Look Pascal, I hate to disappoint you; but, I may have had some other things going for me.
Executive Officer Martin T. 'Marty' Pascal: [loudly] Buckman! What the hell are you doing?
Seaman Buckman: Stocking the pantry, sir!
Executive Officer Martin T. 'Marty' Pascal: You forgot like an idiot, Buckman, because you're stocking the pantry like an idiot!
[grabs two cans]
Executive Officer Martin T. 'Marty' Pascal: What are in these cans?
Seaman Buckman: That one's coffee, and that one looks like cooking lard, sir.
Executive Officer Martin T. 'Marty' Pascal: And which one do you think we're gonna be using more often, sailor? The coffee or the lard?
[Buckman shakes his head uncertainly]
Executive Officer Martin T. 'Marty' Pascal: You think we're all gonna jump out of bed in the morning and have a big, hot, steaming cup of pig fat?
Seaman Buckman: Well, it depends. If it's a cold morning, sir, you might go either...
Executive Officer Martin T. 'Marty' Pascal: [knocking down the cans] The lard is in your head, Buckman! Now you take a look at that galley chart, because I want that cabinet repacked, regulation style, by 1100! Do you know what time 1100 is?
Seaman Buckman: That would be after 1000, sir!
Lt. Cmdr Dodge: Mister Jackson, you look like you could use some fresh air.
Planesman 1st Class Jefferson 'R.J.' Jackson: Uh... N-no?
Lt. Comd. Dodge: Give me all you got, Howard!
Lt,. Howard, Chief Engineer: Aye, sir! This is what I live for, DBF!
[pulls out a bottle of whiskey, takes a swig, and pours the rest into the fuel tank]
Stepanek: What are you doing?
Lt,. Howard, Chief Engineer: Whiskey, thins down the mix. Gives us another 50 RPM's!
Lt,. Howard, Chief Engineer: [the string he placed across the hull goes slack] Bet you never see somethin' like this on one of them big nukes.
[Stepanek shakes his head no]
Seaman Nitro 'Mike': Uh... no, we didn't use clothes lines. We had those dryer things with the window in front.
Lt. Emily Lake, Diving Officer: Balls to the walls, boys!
[from trailer]
Seaman Buckman: You ever hear of the mile deep club?
Lt. Emily Lake, Diving Officer: You ever hear of the salad bar?
Rear Admiral Yancy Graham: [Approaching Winslow after Dodge wins the war game] Sir, this entire exercise is invalid! Dodge left the containment area...
Adm. Dean Winslow: After you had narrowed it without proper authorization.
Rear Admiral Yancy Graham: He ignored a direct order!
Adm. Dean Winslow: Oh, stow it, Yancy! He had higher orders. Oh, and you can forget about that third star.
[Smiles and walks away]
Adm. Dean Winslow: [the Stingray returns from its successful war game. The crew presents to Winslow] Welcome home, captain. You certainly pushed my order to the breaking point.
Lt. Cmdr Dodge: Thank you, sir. I mean, if that's a compliment.
Adm. Dean Winslow: However, given the circumstances, I cannot be able to give you your own Los Angeles class nuclear submarine.
Lt. Cmdr Dodge: [Face shows some disappointment] Yes, sir.
Adm. Dean Winslow: [Smiles] You'll instead be given a new Seawolf class nuclear submarine and will attend its launching on Friday. In the mean time, you will be given a proper crew, one commenserate with your tactical and leadership ablities.
Lt. Cmdr Dodge: Thank you very much, sir, but respectfully, I'll have to decline.
Adm. Dean Winslow: Decline?
Lt. Cmdr Dodge: I would not be in line for such a promotion without the help of my present crew. In that, I cannot, in my good consciousness, accept another command without them.
Adm. Dean Winslow: Still setting terms, huh, Dodge?
Lt. Cmdr Dodge: Just respectfully requesting, sir.
Adm. Dean Winslow: Well, at least you got my son to face forward.
Lt. Cmdr Dodge: Your son? Stepanek, sir?
Adm. Dean Winslow: Yes, it's is mother's name. His salute still leaves something to be desired.
Lt. Cmdr Dodge: We'll work on that, sir.
Adm. Dean Winslow: You do that, Commander!
[Dodge and Winslow salute each other]
"Sonar" Lovacelli: Approaching the bottom, sir. I can hear a couple of lobsters dukin' it out.
Lt. Cmdr Dodge: [Meeting Winslow after being assigned to command the Stingray] Thank you for seeing me on such short notice Admiral Winslow.
Adm. Dean Winslow: Of course, Captain. Take a seat.
[Both sit down]
Adm. Dean Winslow: So, what do you think of your new boat?
Lt. Cmdr Dodge: It's a big piece of...
[Sees Winslow's stern look]
Lt. Cmdr Dodge: antiquated equipment, sir. Sir, I've been spending most of my life wanting to command my own boat. I was wondering why the Navy chose to embarass me this way.
Adm. Dean Winslow: No embarassment intended, Captain. You were assigned to take part in a special mission.
Lt. Cmdr Dodge: What, turn her into a museum, sir? The Wonderful World of Corrosion?
Adm. Dean Winslow: Hardly.
[Hands Dodge a Classified folder with recon pictures inside. Dodge looks at the pictures as Winslow speaks]
Adm. Dean Winslow: These are some recent sattellite photos of the Russian naval bases at Petropavlovsk and Vladivostok. That's where the Russians have their diesel sub fleet, they're in dock there. But each week, there are fewer, because they're selling them off like hot cakes. To countries like Iraq, Iran, and Libya, to name a few.
Lt. Cmdr Dodge: Well, with all due respect, sir. One single nuclear attack sub can defeat several diesels.
Adm. Dean Winslow: In conventional battle, certainly that's true. But what if you had one renegade diesel captain decided to, bam, hit us without warning or cause. Like a terrorist attempting to get a nuclear warhead into one of our harbors. Think we can catch and kill a bogey like that in time?
Lt. Cmdr Dodge: Absolutely, sir.
Adm. Dean Winslow: Well, the Department of Defense and most of the Admiralty, they would agree with you. But, me, personally, I'd like to know for sure. That's why you are going to clean up the Stingray and take her out off the Atlantic coast for a series of war games. One rebel diesel against the US nuclear navy. Come on.
[Takes Dodge to a map]
Adm. Dean Winslow: Now, first you're going to invade Charleston Harbor. Now, if you are lucky enough to evade further pursuit, you are going to try to sink shipping right here at the naval base in Norfolk. Simulated, of course. So, what do you think, Mr. Dodge?
Lt. Cmdr Dodge: I think I'm going to get my ass kicked, sir.
Adm. Dean Winslow: Oh, don't think like that! Damn it to hell, don't go by the book, think like a pirate! I want a man with a tattoo on his dick! Have I got the right man?
Lt. Cmdr Dodge: By a strange coincidance, you do, sir. But sir, this mission you are giving is... close to impossible... If I pull this off, that is, take both ports, I would like command of my own nuclear sub.
Adm. Dean Winslow: Setting terms, now?
Lt. Cmdr Dodge: No, sir. But, without a command, once this exercise is over, I'm heading straight for a desk job, which means I'm out of the Navy.
Adm. Dean Winslow: I can't make you any guarantees, Mr. Dodge, but here's what I'll do. I'll give you two live torpedoes, and I'll set up a dummy ship at Norfolk. If I see that baby go up, then we'll talk about your boat.
Lt. Cmdr Dodge: Thank you, sir.
Lt. Comd. Dodge: [to Pascal] Ah, Mr. Pascal! Have ye any last words before ye walk the plank, sir?
[Dodge releases the men from active duty]
Lt. Comd. Dodge: [quietly to himself] Live it up guys, you earned it.
[from twenty yards away, Sonar turns back to the captain]
"Sonar" Lovacelli: [shouting back] Thank you, sir! I'll try not to over-do it!
Lt. Comd. Dodge, Stepanek, "Sonar" Lovacelli, Planesman 1st Class Jefferson 'R.J.' Jackson, Seaman Buckman, Seaman Stanley 'Spots' Sylvesterson, Seaman Nitro 'Mike': [singing] It's a short little walk bound for eternity/ Yo-ho and blow the man down.
Seaman Nitro 'Mike': [Sinatraish] Blow that nutso kooky punk back downtown!
Lt. Comd. Dodge: [Walking along the line of sailors assigned to the Stingray] Nice pants... Lose the cigar... Oh, you better burn that shirt, sailor...
[Under his breath]
Lt. Comd. Dodge: It's the crew from hell!
Captain Carl Knox: [Dodge has just completed a golf shot from the Orlando] What the Hell! Why don't we pull in, so you can putt out!
Lt. Comd. Dodge: [Stingray has been single pinged by the Orlando] Lt. Lake, prepare to surface!
Lt. Emily Lake, Diving Officer: Surface?
Lt. Emily Lake, Diving Officer: I mean Aye Sir!
Executive Officer Martin T. 'Marty' Pascal: Sir, I can't condone your decision to surrender this quickly!
Lt. Comd. Dodge: I'm proud of you, Marty!
[Into the intercom]
Lt. Comd. Dodge: Howard, once we're on the surface, run on one screw only!
[Addressing the control room]
Lt. Comd. Dodge: Rig for red!
[Returning to the intercom]
Lt. Comd. Dodge: Send somebody forward with a drop light and a role of duct tape!

If you find QuotesGram website useful to you, please donate $10 to support the ongoing development work.