Biggest Boops In Film Heroin

follows the "Holy scuffle" The holy

(photo from web)

Following are the first act of the play (or alleged), the "Holy scuffles"

(sounds like a threat!)

ACT I SCENE II
(Region Santa General La Marmora wakes up late)

La Marmora : - What place is this? Officers, look at me. Where are all dodges hard work? Where is my regiment? Horses? The guns? Where are my arms? (Touching the side) My faithful sword terror of all my enemies? This is a dream? No, a nightmare! Wake General, not idle, other honors, other battles await you. Why can not I wake up? What sorcery is this, that crafty and wicked witch has the courage to try, and in order of who? What enemy can be so unfair to abdicate the battle for the trust evil magic!? And if this is not a dream? And if this place so desolate desert, devoid of life is no invention of my poor mind that out of many theaters of misery and human atrocities has been a spectator? And if this place was not the result of arcane spells and this place is real? I find myself in that world? I would be ... No! No! No! Delirium (off his plumed hat and touched his head) I have suffered a bad head wound, yet beneath the feathers of my hat, I have no scar, do not feel any pain. This place can not be real, and if I were really ... No! No! No! My old aches, my old scars because I do not complain? (Passing his hand on his chest) And you old chip, beloved enemy who abide a few inches of my innermost feelings, to the left of my chest, old piece of enemy ground and in the chest as I bring my heart that so much suffering and distress me in the nights when the ice becomes thick and heavy on the green leaves, and when even the cloudless night oh bathrooms Bersagliere proud of their feathers, to end your martyrdom? Not forgetting, is not invention, so what is this place, what is this desolate, desert region is this? Not a bird flying in the blue sky, not a din of insects in these dense forests, no sound or animals or human casualties. Nothing! Nothing! Nothing! Can I really be dead, and this place can be recounted by the poets, priests and rogues? No! No! No! General La Marmora over? No! No! No! There must be a proper sound and logical explanation. You, my dear philosopher Aristotle, the father of logic, enlighten, give you the right explanation. So dead, dead, dead. And my army, the unification of Italy what will happen? Paradise, Purgatory Hell, which of these places will be allocated to me, which of these I believe the Creator is worthy? I have lived good, bad, I have sinned, I have honored the holy duties? And the most important question, the question that haunts me the most guts, the soul, I'm really pierced? What to do now which of these places look to those who present themselves? A San Pietro a Cato or Lucifer? Yes, I killed my similar but all wicked men, enemies of the people of the country, hungry for the cowardly defenseless people. So what I would have to repent, why should not heaven be my eternal home, my eternal bed? Lucifer, the evil demon, it will be you that you have to torture my flesh, bruising devil is not your net my soul, nor thy dear Cato who hold that place where neither blessed spirits or souls of the damned. Oh guardian of the souls in purgatory, then I'd be a soul to purge and what I would have to nectar, oh Cato's long white beard? I have nothing to be served for my valiant hand, I have nothing to purge. San Peter are you that you will receive me with the three blasts on the trumpet and with honors befitting a brave general. And delirium, is actually a dream, you curse? I'm alive, I'm dead? Who cares. I only know that he was alive or dead it's time to take the march against the enemy or rule is an evil to be lethal or that mysterious creature capable of magic spells. And if my dear deceased real Holy Doorman, wait for the arrival of a brave and gallant sharpshooter. But my sense of conqueror, my god or anyone else in this mysterious place, show me the right path. Wait St. Peter, Heaven will soon be a new leader.

Act I scene III
Lamormora and St. Peter at the Pearly Gates.

La Marmora : - What inaccessible place, marching without my army, in this unknown region, without my brave officers, without my brave riflemen, now that the goal is as important as the longed-for dead, is which coward valiant. But how much is to march? Another hill, another clearing, my dear god has lost its bearings? And yet close to the stars, the North Star, guide of travelers and sailors should be faithful traveling companion? What that will never desert island green surrounded by so great a desolation, and things are never that white gate that emits a beam white as the snow-white dress of virgins at the altar?
(Running and rejoicing at the time of the holy door) ... More
can only be what I crave, the threshold of Paradise, yet victorious general! Victory target! Avanti Savoia, victory! Victory! Victory!
SAN PIETRO: - What is that noise, those who make much noise, as the soul of heaven is so disrespectful to disturb the peace of this holy place? A barbarian, a demon ... a
(surprised we begin to see a soldier in that holy place) Military!? Who are you soldier?
La Marmora : - St. Peter's, fine and humbly ask forgiveness if I let myself get the fervor as if I were still the brave commander of armies, but the long march to this holy region and the events that occurred in such a short time, made my very euphoric discovery, making me cheer as the last of the soldiers, as the 'last of the drunks in the grip of the mad will of Bacchus, in the manner that befits a brave general of my rank. But, as the pilgrim who smiles through the rugged desert, thirsty and weak, he sees the green oasis and greedy greed rushes to the clear, cool water to refresh their limbs now weakens by such great fatigue, for his part, after crossed the desert of leaden earthly life, in this place come to drink euphoric eternal source of peace.
SAN PIETRO: - Official Valiant? commander of the military? Drunk? leaden deserts? pagan gods? in the sacred soil of Paradise, but who the hell you are!?
La Marmora : - As I was telling St. Peter, I am the commander of the sharpshooters Marmora General of Italy, in earthly life, he fought with honor against those who oppress the helpless and those who wanted Italy divided into small were without power, yearning for a fratricidal war. And here, I still I ask forgiveness for my behavior that does not fit in this holy place, or certainly not to my rank, but together with the grace dear holy man, the guardian of these local ethereal peace, let me ask you this holy cross the threshold, for a just reward for my earthly life among the righteous, and now one of the righteous to eternal life bearmi.
SAN PIETRO: - Well, dear General The Whispers, The Mirmira or as you call yourselves ...
La Marmora : - La Marmora, General La Marmora, humbly to serve St. Peter's expensive.
SAN PIETRO: - Okay, okay, La Marmora, (to himself): \u0026lt;> Well, general shooters of Italy, but that was remotely human, kill their children even if the saint maker in battle, should be considered an honor in these holy places? Dear general shooters of Italy, raging in your earthly life, have you ever heard of the sacred commandments, where there is written \u0026lt;> course not be angry. I inform you dear General La Marmora commander of the riflemen of Italy, which in the end the sacred commandments are only ten, how many fingers of your hands bloody, guilty of so much death and damnation. Perhaps the blood that covers you can not count to ten? Or maybe the anger in corroded to the point where your sense that you could not fail to number up to ten, where the child can so naturally? And do not call to mind some of the writings which mentions \u0026lt;>. So dear General La Marmora commander of the riflemen of Italy, What are you looking at this holy place? Then, you're still so sure you were in the earthly life and not just among the righteous fool among the fools? Are you sure Essert therefore deserved place among the righteous eternal life?
La Marmora : - I have no doubt the holy gatekeeper. It was therefore want the High merciful Venice could not shout "Long live Italy"? So it was the will of the holy father win over the oppressed the oppressor? And he was still his supreme will that innocent people were slaughtered by invading barbarians? That was actually his will? So who defends the oppressed and the oppressor and who is oppressing the oppressed? So who is the helpless defender strives you considered an unworthy sinner? So who ...
SAN PIETRO: - Restrain loose tongue that rolls like drums of war and how the blasts of trumpets that accompanied the military war-your earthly life, full of crazy violence and vehement battles ...
La Marmora : - How dare you ... Peter
SAN PIETRO: - Silence! Then, listen and listen, this is not your regiment and I am not a sharpshooter your dear General La Marmora commander shooters of Italy, the valiant leader who you wish it to be, he can not live like peaceful creatures, perhaps even for your own martyrs hand. But with your equals \u0026lt;> warlords, which hide the wrongdoing, and unworthy pagan gods conceived imaginary, false, fictitious courage and honor. And in this place now yearn to enter? The only place where you and your fellow leaders and furious you can worthily house is where the first great poet, Virgil was accompanied by his master to travel, and a supreme astonishment find courageous leaders like the cunning king of Ithaca Odysseus, who I do not hesitate to use his cunning and deceit to bend to his will the people, massacring his enemies without human pity or those who would have thought, oblivious to the ominous word in \u0026lt; >, A man hidden there, that to him in every way twin, and that is so dear to the holy creator even as the last of his creatures. Regardless of what the \u0026lt;> leader plunges without hesitation his seeing only a metal \u0026lt;>. Foolish men like \u0026lt;> Count Ugolino, who was unable to stop the vile hunger, acting against human nature and voracious bites you saziava the heads of his grandchildren, relatives, letting the darkness of the fetid stomach eclipsing the light of reason, and then die with remorse and hunger that devoured the entrails. And you, \u0026lt;> General La Marmora commander of the sharpshooters of Italy, the eternal peace you ask me? The eternal soul damned war. It should be a fool sharpshooter, Satan is not accustomed to waiting. It should be damned, the general commander of the riflemen of Italy.
La Marmora - "Thou Oh Saint Peter, the first fisherman then man of the church, a priest, as you can think of what is right or it is not at war? The wicked and evil, only the sword and not with speech or with holy prayers can annihilate. So, the evil just because of being a creature of the supreme father, must therefore prevail over the weak, on the defenseless, unarmed on? Even your merciful Christ, martyred on the cross for human salvation, he used the sword with the same ferocity of the most furious and angry armies against his enemies or those who would have thought, first with the angel of death in the remote time in Egypt and then the killings in his name, of those heinous murderers of peoples called Crusaders. And you now, oh priest with disdain as I drive out the last of the bruises sinners? You know religious, if Christ died a martyr on the cross, on that sacred mountain as the last of the robbers, considered by people worse than most of his time bloodthirsty criminal "Barabbas," is also to save the soul of a \u0026lt; > appeals to me as you. So before you give me the graces of Lucifer, you should at least to the Holy Creator, ask the permission of that bad decision. And also because they deny me the reading of sacred writing, if you understand where my players are fearless earthly events or criminal enterprises?
SAN PIETRO: - Feel soldier, but what you mean. Crusades, angels of death, crimes, criminals, but what you believe to be still in charge of your rude, crude and stupid soldiers? That your every breath like a dog beaten and scared, did not know that making the only word that was given to know: \u0026lt;>. Dear General that your uniform sharp, that shiny metal on your chest, you call medals, symbols of misleading brave actions, that hat full of feathers, mushrooms, this place makes no sense. Dear general commander of the riflemen of Italy, you're dead, gone, dead, and you still yearn so strongly to read the sacred writings? High pretend that I must ask for time off? Urge the salvation of the cross, without showing any symptom of human repentance, indeed pronounce you proud of your wicked deeds. Generally have extremely disturbed the peace of this holy as the holy land, continues undeservedly to trample the soil of this divine region. Now, even if my heavenly patience drawing to a close. So dear General, target values, which were undertaken, Charon does not have my own patience, Lucifer awaits your and your putrid limbs bruised soul. Go! Go! Go!
La Marmora : - Take care to listen, wicked priest. If the earthly life, man or mysterious creature, he just thought the same way that offended you oh impudent priest, now in dare This place would have been angry and miserable prey to my shiny sword. And nothing would have earned him the pleading prayers imploring pity. And you, miserable caretaker, what drives you to be so brave in my presence? Maybe because you do not see the golden glint of my silver sword hilt it gives you so much in Korea coward courage desecrated in this manner? Or maybe that sturdy door that separates you from me, it makes you become so brave and so daring? But if I had not been deprived of My brilliant friend of many battles, then yes, my dear saint, begging you would be in my presence and your prayers, my presence would be addressed, the old yearning for the martyrdom of your miserable life on earth, rather than the furious wrath of my blade. Thou cowardly cleric that to save your life rude, not to deny indugiasti three times your heavenly Father now in this place so hosannas. Thou wast not sinful to my peers? And because you're in paradise and you are holy and banish me disdainfully call the soul damned?
SAN PIETRO: - Well, so it pushes you to your eternal damnation? To offend in this way and Codest holy place, without vilifying human decency and the glassy eye of anger, like the rabid mad dog, from one who was destined to carry out this holy task. Dear Journal, you dishonor that expresses your title, my dear I do not fear the military nor the human arms or hands that the disgraceful unworthily they wield. So, brave, brave and fearless warrior I did not desert in front of such great human folly ...
(La Marmora not holding anger rushes against San Pietro in an attempt to overpower him but slipped disastrously.)
La Marmora : - This is also too for my mortal patience, not holding anything, it was your will and your words to bring about the defeat. Oh pretaccio fool! Chute! Damn!
(San Pietro, taking advantage of the slip of General La Marmora, forcefully pushes him off and closed the door leaving him out.)
SAN PIETRO: - Out of reckless man, the eternal soul damned. Ah ha! here is the mighty warrior without his gleaming sword in front of a poor "priest." It is not even able to stand on its own "powerful" legs. Outside this place, decorated with rooster vague human likeness. Plucked from the clergy. Go stupid warrior, go gl'inferi are the places where you can unleash your hidden anger, your anger fallacious. Go where the rebel angel will properly plucked. And that peace returned.
(La Marmora outside the gate of heaven in a fit of delirium for the defeat.)
La Marmora : - I was defeated by a clergy, I am the proud general, abused in that way from a crude religious, I decorated sharpshooter in a well-deserved victories. Oh my glories, oh my people, where are you, alone and defeated, that terrible defeat. So the most important battle is lost? The dispute is more important than any earthly victory is lost? How can I accept this humiliating defeat? How can I play that music from demeaning notes that the retreat? I general, I target, I am the knight. The eternal peace denied to me by a nauseating fisherman. Oh rage attanagliami guts, oh anger darkens the light of reason. And you filthy rebel angel, you will not clear my soul that you try to unfairly tarnished. Word of general. And finally you, holy and wretched fool janitor, subjects the fury of a target. Because if today those notes out of tune sound the retreat, I promise you oh crude priest, that even without weapons or armies, as soon as I get back on site and will be the memory of all my deceased human fury. I lost a battle dear saint, but you have triggered a war with no equal, neither mysterious creature or human mind has memory. Oh pious souls of the damned paradise and other gloomy regions, told the general that changed to a wrong suffered, hell in paradise. San Pietro, you will know my rage, yes as it was known by my enemies miserable. I am leaving, but my anger issues. St. Peter's not goodbye but see you soon.

Gaetano Gulisano.