"They can force me to shoot; they just can't force me to shoot well."
One of Earl's better moments, I think. Earl sits across from me at Ecorp. His formulations sound better as LISA smells worse. When 50,000 guys stand in two lines facing each other, let's bless everyone who shoots badly.
"I went into the National Guard," he starts, as he has a couple of times.
Vietnam-era guy -- he figures avoiding the draft gave him some special training for corporate life.
"Where there's a job, I'm a nonparticipant. Any of you like what we're doing? "
"You get your batches done on time." Edna signs she's on to him. Branley smiles, what could be solidarity. Earl continues.
"Oh, I acknowledge authority, no question. They can force me to do things."
"Well, alright, but all of us --"
"But I volunteer no extra. I don't want much: a little land -- in Africa, for all I care. I'd prefer somewhere people speak English -- I'm not a polyglot like Jack here. But English, that's not hard; the Brits spread it like syphilis and tobacco. I don't want much -- just house, someone to staff it, enough to live."
"That's all any of us do."
"I figure."
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