[size=6][green][b]He's on his 23rd mission.[/b][/green][/size=6]  

[size=6][green][b]Q: What do you call a Frenchman advancing on Baghdad?
A: A salesman.

[/b][/green][/size=6]  

Ladies and Gentlemen, I present you
The KAMIKAZE Sketch, by Douglas Adams:


 FX WILD FLURRY OF FLAMENCO MUSIC
 WHICH CONTINUES FOR SOME TIME.
VOICE: Japan 1945
 FLAMENCO RESUMES.

 Japan!
 FLAMENCO MUSIC CONTINUES. WE
 VAGUELY SEE THE NARRATOR GOING
 INTO THE BAND AND, FOR INSTANCE,
 ATTACKING THE PIANO. JAPANESE MUSIC
 STARTS RELUCTANTLY AND STOPS VERY
 SOON.
VOICE: Thank you. Japan 1945. The war was moving into
 its final stage. The Japanese nation was in a desperate
 situation... I didn't say stop the music. (HE GOES
 BACK TO THE BAND AGAIN.) Now look, what
 is it? Is it the money, come on. (FLAMENCO
 STARTS AGAIN.) No, flamenco won't do! What
 do you mean the chords are easier? Look, we've got
 all these Japanese instruments for you, why don't
 you play something on this lot? (QUICK
 FLAMENCO RIFF ON JAPANESE
 INSTRUMENTS.) Alright, we're going to have a
 chat about this. You lot (characters now on stage)
 carry on.
 SET CONSISTS OF A BENCH IN A BRIEFING
 ROOM ON WHICH SITS ONE KAMIKAZE
 PILOT WITH HIS GEAR AND HEADBAND
 ON. ON THE BENCH ARE LAID OUT THE
 HEADBANDS OF MANY OTHER
 PRESUMABLY DECEASED KAMIKAZE
 PILOTS. A COMMANDER STANDS TO
 ADDRESS THE `MEETING ON WHICH SITS
 ONE KAMIKAZE PILOT WITH HIS GEAR
 AND HEADBAND ON. ON THE BENCH
 ARE LAID OUT THE HEADBANDS OF
 MANY OTHER PRESUMABLY DECEASED
 KAMIKAZE PILOTS. A COMMANDER
 STANDS TO ADDRESS THE `MEETING'.
COMM: Now, you all know the purpose of this mission. It is
 a kamikaze mission. Your sacred task is to destroy
 the ships of the American fleet in the Pacific. This
 will involve the deaths of each and everyone of you.
 Including you.
PILOT: Me sir?
CoMM: Yes you. You are a kamikaze pilot?
PILOT: Yes sir.
COMM: What are you?
PILOT: A kamikaze pilot sir.
COMM: And what is your function as a kamikaze pilot?
PILoT: To lay down my life for the Emperor sir!
COMM: How many missions have you flown on?
PILOT: Nineteen sir.
COMM: Yes, I have the reports on your previous missions
 here. (FLIPS THROUGH EACH ONE.) Let's see.
 Couldn't find target, couldn't find target, got lost,
 couldn't find target, forgot to take headband,
 couldn't find target, couldn't find target, headband
 slipped over eyes, couldn't find target, came back
 with headache...
PILOT: Headband too tight sir.
COMM: Vertigo, couldn't find target all the rest, couldn't
 find target. Now I don't think you've been looking
 very hard.
PILOT: Yes I have sir, I've looked all over the place!
COMM: You see, it's not actually that difficult bearing in
 mind that we do have a highly sophisticated
 reconnaissance unit whose job it is to tell you where
 to find the targets.
PILOT: Well, it's not always accurate sir, sometimes one can
 search for hours and not see a single aircraft carrier.
COMM: Well, where exactly have you been looking for these
 aircraft carriers?
PILOT: Er, well sir...
COMM: (FLIPPING THROUGH NOTES.)... I mean, I
 notice for instance that you seem to have more or
 less ignored the sea. I would have thought that the
 sea was quite a promising area.
PILOT: Yes sir...
COMM: And that the airspace directly above Tokyo was not.
 And another thing...
PILOT: Yes sir?
COMM: Skip the victory rolls.
PILOT: Sir, you're being unfair, I have flown over the sea lots
 of times. I actually attacked an aircraft carrier once.
COMM: Ah yes, I have the details of your `attack' here.
 Mission nineteen. Let's see. Take off 0500 hours
 proceeded to target area, nice start. Target spotted
 0520 hours, good, climbed to a height of 6000ft,
 prepared for attack, went into a power dive, and
 successfully... landed on target.
PILOT: I had to go wee wees sir. Caught short. But I took off
 again immediately sir. Good job too - one of our lads
 crashed straight into it. Poor devil didn't stand a chance. 
COMM: What?
PILOT: No sir - and that really got me upset, and I was
 going to let `em really have it -I was going to whip
 it straight out, fly in low and lob it straight through
 the dining room porthole - that would have sorted
 them out.
COMM: You were going to do what?
PILOT: Cut it straight out and let `em have it, whee splat
 right in the middle of their breakfast. They'd have
 known we meant business then alright sir.
COMM: What were you going to cut straight out and throw
 into their breakfast?
PILOT: My stomach sir. Oh yes, I'd like to see the
 expressions on their faces when the great squelchy
 mass plummetted right into. . .
COMM: Wait. . . wait a moment, let me just get this clear in
 my mind. You were going to cut out...
PILOT: My stomach, yes sir, kamikaze... (DOES HARA-
 KIRI GESTURE.)
COMM: You were going to cut out your stomach and...
 throw it at the enemy?
PILOT: Yes sir, straight at them.
COMM: Any particular reason?
PILOT: Die for the Emperor sir.
COMM: And what purpose would that serve?
PILOT: Make the enemy feel guilty sir.