Dr. Kent Clark: Contact. palyed by William Fichtner
"Before we let you leave, your commander must cross that field, present himself before this army, put his head between his legs, and kiss his own arse."
"We were all feeling a bit shagged and fagged and fashed, it having been an evening of some small energy expenditure, O my brothers, so we got rid of the auto and stopped off at the Korova for a nightcap."