(OK, i was really struggling for a script this week, and then Full Metal Jacket came on Turner Classic, so...)
Art only on the lower third of the page. Background: Space Marines staring straight ahead in formation, at attention. They all look scared, panicked, or concerned. One is trying desperately not to laugh. Foreground: Our newest recruit, PRIVATE CRUZ, is lying in a ball, facing us, protecting his tenders in pain. Tears are rolling down his face. Standing over him is GUNNERY SARGEANT ROLLINS. He is missing one leg, but he is standing without crutches or cane. His pointing finger is almost in CRUZ's face, and he is screaming at him.
The top two-thirds is the following copy:
GUNNERY SARGEANT ROLLINS: YOU LITTLE PIECE OF $#!T SCUMBAG! NO ONE EVER TOLD YOU THAT THE MOST DANGEROUS MOTHER #&C*@R AT AN @$$-KICKING CONTEST IS A ONE-LEGGED MAN? SWEET VIRGIN MARY, THE BEST PART OF YOU, YOUR MOTHER WIPED AWAY WITH A DIRTY GYM SOCK! MAYBE TOO MANY DADDIES IN YOUR GENEPOOL! TELL YOUR MOTHER SHE CHARGES TOO LITTLE! AND YOU BETTER NOT BE CRYING! YOU HAD BEST UN#&C* YOURSELF! AND DOUBLE-TIME! OR NEXT TIME, I WON'T BE SO EASY ON YOU! I WILL MAKE YOU HARD! I WILL MAKE YOU MEAN! OR SO HELP ME CHRIST I WILL FEED YOU TO THE BUGS MYSELF! WOULD YOU LIKE TO KNOW MORE, PRIVATE? OR ARE WE CRYSTAL?
CRUZ: (weakly) Sir, yes sir...
GUNNERY SARGEANT ROLLINS: JESUS HARVEY WALLBANGING CHRIST! SOUND OFF AS IF I DIDN'T JUST SLAM THEM IN REVERSE! YOU LITTLE MAGGOT...
CAPTION: Day 2.