If you’ll all indulge me for a moment, I’d like to share the very coolest movie scene involving good Scotch ever set to film.
It’s from Inglourious Basterds (and be advised, if you haven’t seen Inglourious Basterds, that it’s a Quentin Tarantino movie with lots of violence and mean, nasty words):
Michael Fassbender plays Lt. Archie Hicox, a British spy carrying out a Rube Goldbergian mission to assassinate Hitler. He and his co-conspirators have the bad luck to bump into Dieter Hellstrom, a Gestapo Major, but also have the good luck to catch him in a friendly mood.
Hellstrom buys everyone a round of 33-year-old Scotch, but just before they all partake the Gestapo officer realizes Fassbender is a British spy, and the following conversation ensues in German:
Hellstrom: “You hear that? That is the sound of my Walther, which is pointed at your testicles.”
Hicox: “Why do you have your Walther pointed at my testicles?”
Hellstrom: “Because you’re no more German than that Scotch.”
Hicox: “That’s interesting.”
Hicox: “Because I’ve had a gun pointed at your balls since you sat down.”
The other spy, Sgt. Hugo Stiglitz, who is sitting next to Hellstrom, helpfully points HIS gun at Hellstrom’s balls too.
Hellstrom: “Looks like we have a bit of a sticky situation here.”
Hicox: “What’s going to happen, Major, is you’re going to stand up and walk out that door with us.”
Hellstrom: “No no no no no. We both know, Captain, no matter what happens to anyone else in this room, the two of us aren’t going anywhere.”
Hicox (switching to English): “Well, if this is it, old boy, I hope you don’t mind if I go out speaking the King’s.”
Hellstrom: “By all means, Captain.”
Hicox: “There’s a special rung in hell reserved for people who waste good Scotch. Seeing as I may be rapping on the door momentarily…”
(He drinks the Scotch.)
Hicox: “I must say—damned good stuff, sir. Now, about this pickle we find ourselves in: It would appear there’s only one thing for you to do.”
Hellstrom: “And what would that be?”
Stiglitz: “Say ‘Auf Wiedersehen’ to your Nazi balls!”
And then he shoots Hellstrom’s balls off, and the Gestapo officer shoots Hicox’s balls off, and Hicox shoot’s Hellstrom’s balls off again, and everyone else in the bar also starts shooting, and a few seconds later they’re all dead.
I suspect Hicox went straight to heaven, given his proper respect for good Scotch.