That's not the point. What are you fighting for at all if you actually won? If one were to attempt to apply logic to his oral diarrhea, he would be talking about fighting for the Presidency. If he won the election why would he have to fight for it? He won. Dumbass...
Khe Sahn Combat Base, 2/6/'68, 1500 hours
Sgt. Lewis: Men, we just got radio with contact with Lt. Blake and his men. They're 3 klicks out in the boonies, and Charlie has 'em under fire. I can get choppers out there, but it'll take too long. We've got to move in on foot and get them out. I need volunteers and fast. Specifically, I need a point man. Trump, are you in?
Pvt. Trump: Why are you asking me?
Sgt. Lewis: Are you in?
Pvt. Trump: Sarge, everyone can tell you, I'm an FNG here.
Sgt. Lewis: Fucking new guy? Trump, you got here last summer. Rifle up. We've got to move.
Pvt. Trump: Sarge, I can barely walk. I shouldn't even be here. I got...sparks in my feet.
Sgt. Lewis: What the fuck?
Sparks?
Pvt. Trump: No, spurs, that's it, I got spurs, and I shouldn't even be here. I got the spurs!
Sgt. Lewis: You're not in cowboy boots, soldier, so what the fuck are we talking about? We have got to save Lt. Blake, do you understand?
Pvt. Trump:
We have to? Sarge, I prefer heroes who don't get cornered, all right? And besides, Blake owes me 50 bucks and never paid me back. If he doesn't pay what he owes, I say let Charlie do whatever the hell he wants to him.
Ted (Medic): He's a fucking liar, Sarge.
He owes
Blake 50 bucks.
Pvt. Trump: That's a lie. That's why I call you Lyin' Ted.
Sgt. Lewis: We don't have time for this shit. Trump, I need you geared up in exactly one minute. I'm gonna make a man out of you today. If you want a country, you're going to have to fight like hell, right now! Get in the barracks and gear up. Now!!
(Trump scowls, slouches to barracks entrance, goes in. A long two minutes goes by.)
Sgt. Lewis (hysterically): TRUMP!! GET OUT HERE, NOW!
Soldier (from inside barracks) Sarge, he shit himself!! He's curled up under his bed. There's shit all over!!
Pvt. Trump (from inside barracks) Sarge, I am a sick, sick man...The spurs has got me!!...You have to go without me. I'm sorry, I'll fight like hell next time.
Sgt. Lewis: (spits) Well, fuck him. I'll take a few
men with me. He's got baby hands, anyway. YOU HEAR THAT, TRUMP? YOU GOT HANDS LIKE A LITTLE BABY!! (Signals rest of squad with a head nod, moves out.)