Outta order? I’ll show you outta order! You don’t know what outta order is, Mr. Trask! I’d show you but I’m too old; I’m too tired; I’m too fucking blind. If I were the man I was five years ago I’d take a Flame-Thrower to this place! Outta order. Who the hell you think you’re talking to? I’ve been around, you know? There was a time I could see. And I have seen boys like these, younger than these, their arms torn out, their legs ripped off. But there isn’t nothing like the sight of an amputated spirit; there is no prosthetic for that. You think you’re merely sendin’ this splendid foot-soldier back home to Oregon with his tail between his legs, but I say you are executing his Soul!! And why?! Because he’s not a Baird man! Baird men, ya hurt this boy, you’re going to be Baird Bums, the lot of ya. And Harry, Jimmy, Trent, wherever you are out there, Fuck You, too!