Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Crew, salute.
two, one...
Alright Everyone It's Time To Kick This PIg
you're almost out of uniform.
- The navy doesn't even use diesels any more. - They do now. She's been recommissioned.
- Thank you, sir, but I'd have to decline. - Decline?
You've hijacked your own boat.
- Really? - Really.
Report when you have a shooting solution. Put on some speed.
See It’s a Navy thing
Sir, I think we'd prefer to go with the bizarre and risky. It worked for us so far.
Now, that was fun.
that we are no longer in contact with COMSUBLANT.
I don't have to. Dodge wouldn't have pushed it unless he planned to make a run on Norfolk.
Go ahead, sir. Try it now.
No, just a couple of biologics, sir. Would you like to listen?
- No, sir. - Good.
Aaargh!
- I'm working on a nickname, though. - Oh, yeah?
The weenie tattoo.
No embarrassment intended. You've been chosen for a specific mission.
How about some quesadillas?
- Does Admiral Winslow know about this? - He is not administering this war game.
Let's get a shooting solution.
She may not be the youngest girl at the ball, but she'll still turn a head or two.
Aye, sir.
You know that the submarine service is entirely volunteer.
- He made him walk the plank?! - Sir, this exercise has gotten out of hand.
OK, we've got cloud cover up there. Low overcast.
No surprise. From here on out, no unnecessary conversation.
(farts)
Fire one!
To who?
All right, gentlemen. Let's kick this pig!
Dive, dive. Rig for deep submergence.
People don't walk the plank.
How about that Mont SWD?
- The best the United States Navy has to offer. - Damn good feeling, sir.
What do you think about our boat?
You're not abandoning shit!
(# Anchors Away)
Now we're talking.
Sir, I not only gave away our position, I potentially endangered the crew.
(# Louie, Louie)
OK, boys. Down we go.
Passing 280 feet, Captain.
Cos the water pressure is going to squeeze the hull of this boat like an empty beer can.
Raise the periscope!
Not exactly a promotional bell-ringer.
Your new boat.
I don't that ofd
I was wondering why you chose to embarrass me.
- What else do you put in your sauces? - It's an old family recipe, sir. It's a secret.
Conn-torpedo. Request permission to arm flare, sir.
because I will have his tattooed hide nailed to my office door.
Whisky! Thins out the mix! Gives us an extra 50RPM!
To get in, we're going to have to use a tactic that is somewhat bizarre and extremely risky.
- No, sir. - (clanking)
Are they still tilted?
That's absurd. These men love me!
(faint cheering)
but the conditions of the exercise prohibit it.
I need a tetanus shot just from looking at it.
I'd rather not, sir. I want to finish this dive.
- Fix position. Prepare for guidance lock. - I got you now, Popeye.
- I mean, I am this close to command, sir. - Forget it.
Simulated, of course.
This is crazy! This can't be happening.
- Except it's devilled ham! - That would be a problem.