Dustin and I were communicating via e-mail when I said that once he became famous, he should consider me for a role in a film as the perverted married guy gym teacher (or something similar.)
I was thinking of you more as the lovable Neo-Nazi captain that dies in the final scene amidst a mass of gunfire, explosions and Hooters girls...but I guess your idea could work, too.
So, here is that movie ending:
Capt. Juan VonDyke, crashed to the floor amidst the chicken bones and greasy napkins, landing hard on his empty ammo belt. The torrent stream of lead from the Guttensprigel slammed into the wood table, its glossy epoxy coating, which for years had deflected beer and magic markered napkins, splintered under the punishing accelerated mass of the overheating weapon. His legs had stopped working after the 10th shot of Southern Comfort, but seemed to want to return to duty as he began to pull himself across the floor.
Raine was also on the floor, her tray covering her head. She saw Capt. Juan VonDyke knocked sideways by the explosion and realized for the first time that she was in love with the lovable Neo-Nazi Captain with much love and stuff. Her love was short lived as she was blown to bits by a blowing up type weapon.
Bits of Raine rained down on VonDyke and a chunk of plastic hit him in the eye. With his good eye, he could see the Hooter’s name tag with the word Raine covered in blood. All the weeks he ordered those shitty wings and drank the piss warm, water down draft beer had done to waste. He stood up and screamed.
Deep in his chest, his waxy, grease coated heart broke.