Monologue
Enterprise — Owens
Brian Parks
Owens: (In a building rant) We need it for our presentation. Goddamn this place! Who let this happen? Who?! Bureaucrats, that’s who. Slack nine-to-fivers. I’ll kill ’em, I will! Why is this office so full of them? The second rate, the C-plussers, the semi-wits! And they all work on our support staff. Support? Support?! We support them! We bring in the cash so they can sit all day refining their incompetence, anuses digging deeper and deeper into their seat cushions. The meek will not inherit the Earth, oh no. The half-asses will! The world is nothing but half-asses. The continents half-assed, the countries half-assed. It’s half-assed people in half-assed towns with half-assed pets and half-assed country clubs with half-assed members backwashing their hepatitis into gin-and-tonics. They go to half-assed churches with half-assed heavens, heavens full of half-assed angels looking down on all the half-asses doing their half-assed screwing, the vigorous copulation of the mediocre, over and over, parts slapping and splatting, thurping and squirting, making little zygotes — little half-assed zygotes that pop out, shake off placenta, and rule us all!!! (Quick blackout)