Kubrick gave us Private Pyle: the recruit who couldn't keep up, alone in the barracks head at night with a rifle and a very bad idea. We gave the role to the man running the Pentagon. He nailed the audition.
Meet Pete Hegseth, Full Metal Moron. He promised the Senate he'd quit drinking, so naturally he's brought the bottle: Old Knockout Whiskey, triple X. He gave the generals a speech about fat generals, then took his seat in a stained undershirt. He'll lecture you about warrior ethos, from a toilet, in pink lace panties.
The note taped to the mirror says it all: I AM A ALPHA MAIL. Spelling isn't his strong suit, and neither is mail. Just ask the journalist he accidentally sent the attack plans to. Meanwhile, the alpha's pill bottle is spilled across the floor: low T, and a few little blue helpers.
