09x15 - Bottoms Up

[bunniefuu]

♪♪♪ (theme)

‐Gin?
‐Read 'em and weep.

‐Again?
‐Name of the game, kiddo.

‐Where did you get
all those clubs?
‐Oh, the usual place.

‐Three from you,
three from my sleeve.
‐(sighs)

What've you got, kid?

‐Sixty‐four.
‐Ooh. Bad news.

Oh, I'll get you for this,
Whitfield. Mark my words.

I'd rather
mark your cards.

Gee, I don't know how to
tell you this, Houlihan,
but, uh...

you're into me for $3.19.

See me on payday.

Payday. Mmm.

Payday...

I will be under
a hair dryer

at the Fort Meade
beauty parlor.

That's right.
When are you leaving?

14 days, 8 hours
and 22 minutes.

You've got a lot of nerve,
Whitfield.

You transfer out here
for two months,
take me to the cleaners,

and then waltz
back to the States

to live it up on my money.

But I'm gonna miss you.

So deal. I don't have
much time to get even.

Nah. I've had enough
for one night.

Besides, I hate to see
a grown major cry.

Oh, sure, quit,
just when I was gettin' hot.

I gotta write a letter
to my brother. I'll see ya.

Good night, moneybags.

Margaret.

I'm gonna miss you, too.

MAN (on P. A.):
Hear ye, hear ye.

It is 0700,
and all is hell.

‐Incoming wounded, folks.
‐(helicopter whirring)

KELLYE: I'm gonna go
straight to O. R.,

so if someone can
pick me up something to eat,
I'd really appreciate it.

‐I'll get it.
‐Me, too.

(coughing)

Are you all right,
Captain?

Oh, you know me.

Just can't get
the motor going

till I've had
my first cup of coffee.

(helicopter whirring)

Captain Whitfield,
if you can't make it,
we'll cover for you.

Look, girlie,
I've never missed
an O. R. in my life.

I'm not about to
start now.

I'll be there
in a minute.

I'll work you all
under the table.

Come on. Let's go.

There we go.
Another satisfied customer

at Pierce's Body
and Femur Shop.

Go.

Okay. Who's next? I have
a lovely table for one

with a view
of the ceiling.

Prepare to applaud,
Hippocratic oathers.

‐We're out of wounded!
‐(cheering)

What do you know?
The w*r is quitting
early today.

Must have a headache
from all that noise.

He'll be okay.
Let's give him another unit.

Whitfield, another unit
of AB‐positive over here.

Right, Major.

Captain, you got
the wrong stuff.

‐Pardon me?
‐They want AB‐positive, right?

You grabbed
AB‐negative.

Oh, yeah.
Thanks.

They ought to
mark this stuff
more clearly.

Finis.

Who said it was impossible
to improve on perfection?

One more just came in.
Bad chest wounds.

I'll take him.
I can use the overtime.

Pierce, I am the ranking
thoracic expert.

Right over here, fellas.

Kellye,
I have to re‐glove.

‐HAWKEYE: Major Winchester.
‐Yes?

‐Buns away!
‐Huh? (gasps)

Pierce, are you crazed?
I have a wounded man
on the table!

(Hawkeye laughing)

‐He‐‐ He made me do it.
‐(laughing)

POTTER: Pierce,
there's a fine line
between fun and imbecility,

and you just
pole‐vaulted over it.

Pierce,

to violate the sanctity
of the operating room is,

even for an intellectual
infant such as yourself,

an act of such
contemptibility,

I will not dignify it
with comment.

I‐‐ I understand.

Hey. Hey.
Come on, everybody.

That was just, you know, that
was like‐‐ That was a joke.

POTTER: Well, it was
just about as funny

as a sword‐swallower
with swollen glands.

Well, trust Pierce to do
something so tasteless.

Yeah, well...

not exactly only me.

I think I'll change.

‐Uh‐‐
‐Sorry, I'll get the next one.

Hey, come on, everybody.
That was funny.

Yeah, well, I guess
you had to be there.

(chattering)

(booing)

(all jeering)

Please, please,
you're too kind.

Father, what would you think
about giving these people

a refresher course
in "thou shalt not k*ll"?

Father?
Oh, no. Not you too.

Captain Pierce, having heard
about the callous prank

you played on poor
Major Winchester,

I choose
not to speak to you.

For if I did,
I would tell you

you are a goon
and a blockheaded bozo.

But as a man of God,
I'm above name‐calling.

‐Oh. Yeah.
‐Good day.

(all cheering)

Thank you, everybody.
Thank you. That's very kind.

‐Okay, Charles.
Let's get this settled.
‐Settled?

Settled. Let's get it settled.
Get even with me.

Right here, in front of
everybody. Here. Come on.

Dump a tray of food all over me.
Or worse, make me eat it.

Pierce, I could never do
anything so insensitive.

Sure you can. It's easy.

Come on. Get your revenge.
Tit for tat and all that.

I bear you no malice,
old fella.

‐What a rotten thing to say.
‐Oh, Pierce, I understand you.

I studied a bit of
child psychology, you know.

And I have nothing but‐‐

We must all have
compassion for‐‐

Ladies and gentlemen,
we must all have compassion

for the wretched harlequin

with his compulsive
need to amuse.

I say to you,

do not condemn
the pathetic clown,

but rather pity him.

(all cheering)

Will you stop!

‐Howdy.
‐Don't howdy me,

you snake in a tent.
You‐‐ You‐‐

Hawk, you're upset.

It's this little
idiosyncrasy I have.

When a mess tent
full of people

tries to
tar and feather me,
I get ruffled.

Aha. They're still hot
about that trick
you pulled on Charles.

No, they're
hot about that trick
we pulled on Charles.

I had a partner
in slime, remember?

‐Oh, that.
‐Yes, that.

I didn't know
I was gonna have
a silent partner.

‐Ah, it's over now.
‐It's not over.

My character
has been assassinated.

And the rest of me
may soon follow.

So what do you want me
to do about it?

I want you to put down that
damn darning and listen.

Confession could be
good for your soul.

I guarantee it'll
be good for your nose.

As I recall,
you did pull some strings.

You gonna come clean or not?

Not. Look,
in a couple of days

Winchester will try
something to get even,

‐and everything
will be copasetic.
‐No way.

You should have seen
that conniving sneak.

There he was,
acting so nice to me.

Old pink tush knows that as
long as he doesn't retaliate,

I play the dragon
to his Saint George.

It doesn't matter.

Something bad is bound
to happen to you,

and he'll get
the blame.

With my luck, nothing rotten
will happen to me for years.

(chuckling)

‐(laughing)
‐What?

I, uh‐‐ I smell a rat,
and it's me. (chuckling)

I don't think I like
the sound of that smell.

This is
the most brilliant idea
a sick mind ever had.

I'm gonna play
a practical joke on myself.

‐That doesn't sound
very practical.
‐Sure it does.

Charles will get blamed,
and I'll be vindicated.

And then I can stop lurking
in dark shadows and alleyways.

‐That idea is not half bad.
‐It's all bad.

That's what makes it
so great. Ha ha!

‐♪♪♪ (Big Band on jukebox)
‐See, this is Fort Meade,

‐and right there is Dale City.
‐Oh.

I can visit my folks
on weekends.

No, no. The...
The army has obviously
fouled up your orders.

Nobody gets stationed
30 miles from home.

‐I did. Home.
‐Wow.

It's been a long time.

I'm really looking
forward to it.

Here, you are, ma'am.

One scotch
for the Irish major.

How about a refill
on that soda, Captain?

Uh, no, thank you.
I gotta be going.

Probably just as well.

A couple of classy
customers like yourselves

could ruin this club's
reputation.

Where are you going?
It's so early.

I have to write
a letter to my brother.

Again? You wrote him
last night.

Oh, no. Last night
I wrote my father.

Oh. Well, what's
the difference?

You'll be home before
the letter gets there.

Oh, I hope not.
I'm telling him

‐to pick me up at the airport.
‐Oh.

Where's Winchester?
Let's get this over with.

He'll be here any minute.
Now, you sure you
got this straight?

Well, it's very complicated,
but let's see if I'm close.

We go into the club.
Klinger directs us
to a table.

You sit against
the far wall

in a chair that is
covered with glue.

‐Isn't that great?
‐Wonderful.

I've been practicing my
humiliated look all day.

Pierce,
you wanted to see me?

Charles, indeed I do.

Well?

I behaved very badly
toward you today.

Oh, Pierce,
you are too modest.

Your behavior was disgusting,
reprehensible.

Even worse. I'd like
to make amends. Really.

Can I buy you a drink?

Oh! The rogue attempts
to assuage his conscience.

‐Come on.
‐And it‐‐

And it will cost him money.
That's wonderful.

‐I accept.
‐Oh. Ah.

Thank you.

‐Hi, guys.
‐Hi.

‐Your table's
right over there.
‐Thank you, Max.

Oh, don't forget.
This is on
Mr. Pierce's tab.

He's the lanky fellow
with the egg on his face.

‐Margaret, would you
like to join us?
‐Oh, no, thanks.

I caught your matinee
performance in O. R.

I'll be in my tent.

Okay. Good.
You sit there.
Uh, no, no!

Uh, no. Why don't you
sit over here, Charles?

‐Why?
‐Huh?

What possible difference
could it make where I sit?

Because, you know‐‐

Well, you saw that
ugly mob before,

I gotta keep
my back to the wall.

Oh, yeah, well,
that's quite understandable.

The survival instinct
is strong in
the lower species.

Oh, my!

What has happened?

I'm...

not stuck to my chair.

Uh, I suddenly feel as though
there is something...

very wrong...

down there.

No. No!

Oh, my scheming friend.

Now I understand why you
so carefully ushered me
to this chair.

‐No.
‐Hawkeye, I don't believe you.

Enough is enough.

Charles, I swear.
There's been a mistake.

Oh, oh, indeed.
There has.

But it was mine.
Oh, honestly.

In believing for
the briefest moment

that you were actually
a civilized human being.

(groans)

(crowd murmuring)

Max, give me a Kn*fe.

Major, don't.
It's not worth it.

For my pants.

‐Oh.
‐(groans)

Attention. Attention,
all personnel. (chuckles)

It would appear that
old Doc Funny Pants
is at it again,

and once again,
I am the butt of his joke.

(booing)

Please, please, please.
We must all remember that
the poor man is demented.

He's obviously suffering
from a fanny fetish.

(laughing)

Thank you all very much.
You are indeed

a source of inspiration
during these‐‐

(gasps)‐‐
difficult times.

I assure you.
I shall endure.

(cheering)

Thank you, Max.
Thank you.

Klinger, I will need
another pair of trousers.

‐(laughs) Perhaps, uh, several.
‐(laughter)

No telling how often
I'll be torpedoed by
Rear Admiral Pierce.

Thank you.

It was supposed to be
this chair.

This is getting pretty
embarrassing, you know.

If you plan
any more stupidity,
just plan it alone.

(shouting)

Pants, pants.
About a 42, extra pompous.

‐(metal clangs)
‐Oh!

(speaking Arabic) Oh!

I've got the supply
requisitions, sir.

I'll check 'em
as soon as I put

a little twinkle
in Teddy's peepers.

Great man, T.R.
Tough as a two‐bit steak.

‐How true. Sir, could I
ask you something?
‐(groans)

Got too much red
in the man's cheeks.

Aw, hell,
I'll just say he spent
the day at the beach.

Sir, this is
kind of important.

I need some advice
on a sensitive matter.

Advice, huh?
Well, why didn't you say so?

What's your problem, son?

Oh, no, sir, it's not mine.

Really. It's, uh‐‐

It's about this friend
in a MASH unit.

Uh, not here.
Back in Toledo.

Right. I hear the fighting's
been real fierce
back there lately.

Well, the thing of it is,

my friend knows something
bad about somebody.

Something
that's gotta be told,

but he doesn't want to be

a dirty, low‐down,
squealing stool pigeon.

Son, if there's something
going on around here

that I should know about,

you'd be right to tell me.

Now you've gone
and forced it out of me.

Well‐‐

Oh, boy. I don't know
how to say this.

Last night, kind of late,

I had to get something
from the supply room,

and I found
Captain Whitfield in there

all alone in the dark
and drunk as a skunk.

Huh.
That's pretty strange.

And there's something else.

I‐‐ I didn't think
much of it at the time,

but yesterday in O. R.,
I had to stop her

from giving you
the wrong type blood.

And the bottle was
labeled plain as day.

I think maybe
I better have a talk

with Major Houlihan
about this.

Helen Whitfield
is the best nurse I have!

I'm not saying she ain't.

What you're saying is there's
a double standard here.

‐A woman can't get
a little drunk.
‐That's not what‐‐

Sure, Pierce and Hunnicutt
and all of the guys

can get blottoed and act
like fools all the time‐‐

‐Margaret, I‐‐
‐Even you have been known

to crawl back
to your tent on all fours

at all hours of the night!

All right.
Hold the insolence.

I'm sorry.

Margaret, your point
is well taken

and certainly well heard.

God knows
life in the service
is no bed of roses.

More than a fair share
of m*llitary folk

wind up with their head
in the bottle.

Now your friend was
drinking pretty heavily

in the supply room alone.

Doesn't that sound
the tiniest bit peculiar?

She probably just wanted
a little privacy, that's all.

Uh‐huh. And what about
the problem in O. R.?

‐So, one little problem.
‐One that we know about.

I wonder how many
we don't know about.

We can't afford to
take chances in O. R.

You two go way back,
Margaret,

so let me just
ask you flat out.

Have you ever known her
to have a drinking problem?

‐Absolutely not.
‐Okay, if you say so.

Don't worry, sir.
I'll take care of it.

I'm sure it was just
a one‐time thing.

I just lied
through my teeth for you.

You told me
before you came here

you were off the booze!

‐I am.
‐Oh!

Then who was that
last night

on the floor
in the supply room?

Okay. Okay.

It was me.

So what's
the big deal?

I hopped off the wagon
for one night.

This, uh‐‐ This place is‐‐ It's
no picnic, you know.

Oh, don't give me that,
Helen! That's too easy.

You've been here
for two months,

and you've been drinking
for years.

Things were different
in the old days.

In this unit, you can't
take three‐day weekends.

You can't be the party girl
you used to be.

Come on, Margaret,
you know me.

When the bell rings,
I'm always ready.

Well, you didn't
answer it yesterday.

Colonel Potter
just told me

you nearly gave a patient
the wrong blood type.

Did that have anything
to do with the booze?

Absolutely not.

I‐‐I made a mistake.

I grabbed the wrong bottle.

Oh, you're n‐‐
you're not turning that

into a big drinking problem.

I'm sorry, but I can't
let you work in O. R.

I'm going to put you
in the lab.

And now I'm gonna have to
figure out something

to tell Colonel Potter.

I'm an O. R. nurse.
How can you do this to me?

Because I care about you.

If you care about me,
couldn't you just drop it?

People's lives are at stake.

Not to mention your career.
And now mine.

Helen, we have to face this.

You may have
a serious problem.

That's ridiculous.

This‐‐
This happens to people.

Our life is no bed of roses.

But if I'm gonna help you,
you've gotta level with me.

Margaret,
I know you went out
on the limb for me,

but I tell you
there's no problem.

You've got to give me
a chance to prove myself.

I'll do anything
to keep this off my record.

Don't you think
I want to believe you?

I can't afford to
take a chance.

I'm putting you in the lab.

And if there's
another foul‐up,

it goes on your record.

Margaret,
you're my best friend.

I won't let you down.

You can watch me
like a hawk.

I won't touch another drop.

I promise.

Okay, okay.

Klinger,
old pal, old buddy.

Forget it, forget it!
I'm tapped out.

I haven't got
a cent to my name.

Don't worry. All I want
to borrow from you

is a little bit
of your time.

I want to play a joke,

and B. J. just quit
as my partner.

Oh, great.
I love this stuff.

So, what are we gonna
do to Major Winchester's
pants this time?

Soak 'em in lighter fluid
and burn 'em off of him?

Or the old
exploding belt trick.

Major Winchester's pants
are strictly off limits.

I never want to see
that keister again.

The recipient
of this tomfoolery
will be Ben Pierce.

You're gonna pull
your own pants down?

Wrong,
but you catch on fast.

This joke on me
is not gonna backfire

the way the one in
the "O" Club did.

I think I need a compass
for this conversation.

Are you trying to say
that the joke and the glue
were supposed to be on you?

Of course they were.
Don't you remember?

You were in on
the whole thing.

You know what, Captain?

I think the joke
really was on you.

Charles, I have something
incredible to tell you.

Here you are, Pierce.
Let me make this easy
for you.

‐There you go.
‐No, no.

I don't want your pants.
I come in peace.

Oh, no need to pull my leg,
Pierce. Here you go.

Now you say "Gotcha,
Charles. Ha ha ha,"

and then you leave.

‐How can I make you
listen to me?
‐Cannot.

Okay. Fine. Here you go.

Here you are. Look.
Here's a show of good faith.

Oh, the nudist magazines have
finally taken their toll, eh?

No, no, no.
Nothing like that.

All I want is a brief
conversation.

Concerning what?

Concerning your enemy
and mine, B. J. Hunnicutt.

This is a man
with two faces,

each one containing
a forked tongue.

‐Why? What's he done?
‐Everything.

I was supposed to sit in that
glue in the Officers Club,

only he arranged it so
the chairs would be switched

and you'd get it again.

Mm‐hmm. You expect me
to believe this, Pierce?

Charles, I swear
I'm telling the naked truth.

As‐‐ As Klinger
is my witness.

He was the one
who switched the chairs
on B. J.'s instructions.

And it was B. J.'s idea
that you go bareback
in the O. R., too.

Pierce, this sounds like
the rantings of a lunatic.

Are you telling me
this is true?

Absolutely.

Our own clean‐cut, adorable,
soft‐spoken B. J.

is a perverse genius.

He magnificently
orchestrated things

so you'd get humiliated,

I'd get blamed,
and he'd get his jollies.

My word. Machiavelli
would have been proud.

‐But it's not over yet.
‐No?

You know the old saying:

he who lives by the joke
shall die by the joke.

(birds chirping)

‐(laughing)
‐Oh, boy.

‐Hi.
‐Hi.

‐ALL: Hi!
‐Hi.

‐You come here often,
big fella?
‐(chuckles)

Would you excuse me,
ple‐‐ Oh!

‐ALL: Ooh!
‐He's shy.

‐Yes.
‐Mm‐hmm!

‐Oh.
‐What's the matter?

‐Oh, nice touch, Hawkeye.
‐(giggling)

Anybody got a robe
I can borrow?

Oh, gee, I'd love
to help you out,

‐but mine are at the cleaners.
‐You wouldn't look good
in green.

Okay, ladies,
you got a new roommate.

As long as I don't have
a thing to wear,

there is nothing gonna
get me out of this bed.

Man (on P. A.):
Attention, all personnel.

w*r marches on.
We've got wounded.

Except that.
Pardon me while I, uh,

slip into something
embarrassing.

Sure. Ooh, nice wheels.

‐Bye.
‐See ya!

‐Excuse me.
‐(whooping)

(laughter)

Sorry, Dr. Hunnicutt.
They made me do it.

Smile, Hunnicutt.
Say cheesecake.

(laughing)

‐Can I have my pillow back?
‐No.

I see your friend
Captain Whitfield
over there.

How's she faring?
Still in dry dock?

She's just great.

One way or another
I've made sure that

she hasn't been alone
for the past two days,

so if she's
sneaking any booze,
it's been intravenously.

Thanks.

Wait a minute.
What is this?

Our own version of
beef stew, ma'am.

It looks awful.

No more than usual.

It's got things in it.

(screams)
They're crawling on me!

‐Get off! Get off!
‐Calm down!

Don't touch me!
Get away!

What is it?
What's the matter?

(screaming)
They're everywhere!

‐They're everywhere!
‐Stop it!

HELEN:
They're everywhere!

Kellye, paraldehyde!
Five CC's!

(screaming)

What's with her? She's nuts.

No, she's not.
She's got the D. T. s.

She didn't seem drunk.

You don't get 'em
when you're drunk.

You get 'em when
you're drying out.

I'm sorry, sir.
I would have told you

‐if I'd known it was this bad.
‐I know.

Obviously, she fooled
a lot of people,
but worst of all herself.

‐I'm so cold.
‐It's okay. It's okay.

It's all right.
It's okay. It's okay.

See? I told you
I could do it, Margaret.

I'm keeping my word.

Shh. Shh. Shh.

Shh.

"...and in just
a short time,

"I've really made
a lot of progress.

"I'm not afraid anymore.

"It's not so difficult to
admit you're an alcoholic

"when there are many
others here who are."

Sounds good. The biggest
step in recovering

is admitting
you've got a problem.

‐I sure hope she makes it.
‐Yeah. Me, too.

This kind of news
calls for a little toast.
What do you say, Margaret?

Good idea, sir.
Klinger, we'll both have
a scotch and water.

‐And hold the scotch.
‐Gotcha.

Oh. These came out great.

That B. J. is the living end.

Proof positive that
behind every great man
there's a great behind.

These are wonderful.
What took you so long
with these?

Well, to develop
photos of this sort,

you need more than
a darkroom.

You need a dark alley.

Ah, ah.
Not funny. Not funny.

My, isn't he
the testy one?

He's gonna be
absolutely beside himself

when he sees those 8x10's
on the bulletin board.

‐No.
‐Yeah.

(screams)

♪♪♪ (theme)

♪♪♪ (theme)