( The thing about Frank Castle is he's got a very firm set of moral boundaries. There's a right and there's a wrong, and where things fall on that spectrum doesn't really align with the idealistic majority. People like to call the troops heroes when they're sent overseas to kill "them", an abstract faceless set of people who can be boiled down to the word "terrorist" and therefor their lives are forfeit.
When the killing happens a little too close to home, when the terrorism is domestic, when it's not somebody with a different nationality that speaks a different language, people start getting real up in arms all of a sudden. It's the highest form of hypocrisy, if you ask him.
But that's not the point — the point is, coming onto sleeping young women fifteen years younger than him is just never gonna happen. Taking advantage of a woman in general is never gonna happen. His pants stay firmly on, thank you very much.
Not that it's much of a comfort to her now.
He stares at the television screen, but he's not really looking at it. He's not seeing it; he's seeing her out of his peripheral vision, the way she's gone rigid, the way she's gone cold. )
Don't ask questions you don't wanna know the answer to. ( Or that you already know the answer to. Finally, finally, he peels his eyes away from the screen to level them at her. If you squint, if you really pay attention, he sounds maybe a hair more gentle when he says: ) Go home, Boston.
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When the killing happens a little too close to home, when the terrorism is domestic, when it's not somebody with a different nationality that speaks a different language, people start getting real up in arms all of a sudden. It's the highest form of hypocrisy, if you ask him.
But that's not the point — the point is, coming onto sleeping young women fifteen years younger than him is just never gonna happen. Taking advantage of a woman in general is never gonna happen. His pants stay firmly on, thank you very much.
Not that it's much of a comfort to her now.
He stares at the television screen, but he's not really looking at it. He's not seeing it; he's seeing her out of his peripheral vision, the way she's gone rigid, the way she's gone cold. )
Don't ask questions you don't wanna know the answer to. ( Or that you already know the answer to. Finally, finally, he peels his eyes away from the screen to level them at her. If you squint, if you really pay attention, he sounds maybe a hair more gentle when he says: ) Go home, Boston.