MASH - Sixth Season (M*A*S*H)

Sir.

Corporal Klinger reporting as ordered, sir.

Yeah, I've signed about four miles of paperwork.

Get it started to Seoul. Right away, sir.

Give those mice at Headquarters something to nibble on.

And I‐‐ Klinger, you're out of uniform.

I mean, uh, you're in uniform.

‐ Yes, sir. ‐ Was it something I said?

‐ No, sir. ‐ Listen, if it's about that backless green sheath...

you wore on Friday, I only criticized it because it was too tight.

‐ That's all behind me, sir. ‐ It certainly was.

I sort of grew up over the weekend, sir.

I realized I love army life, and I wanna be a success at it, sir.

And this is a way to start, sir. Klinger.

This is another Section Eight caper, right? No, sir.

We've staggered down this road before. You've got a razzle‐dazzle going.

Wrong, sir, respectfully. I'm gonna love this one.

It's got a lot of reverse topspin.

4077 MASH, Corporal Klinger.

Yes, sir. Yes, sir!

Headquarters, Colonel Abrams. Hi, Mike. What's the poop?

Tomorrow, huh? What?

Yeah, sure. Perimeter roadblocks. M. P. s will oversee it.

Okay, we'll cooperate. Adios.

All right, General Gung Ho. We got a job.

Headquarters is gonna issue new military money.

We're exchanging scrip again, sir? Got to.

Only way to cross up the counterfeiters and the black marketeers.

Therefore, this base will be closed to all traffic, in or out,

starting 1600 hours tomorrow.

‐ No exceptions. ¿Comprende? ‐ Sí, sí, sir.

I better make an announcement.

Give everybody time to dig out their old blue money and exchange it for red.

After tomorrow, blue will be outdated. Worth zilch!

Permission to take a ten‐minute break, sir.

Granted. Why? I'd like to get in some close order drill before lunch.

Ten‐hut!

About face! Forward, march! Hep, ho, hep, ho‐‐

It's gotta be a caper.

120 over 60. Is that good, Doc?

Better than mine. For your condition, you're in great condition.

Excuse me, sir. I'd like to talk to that man.

Sarge, if you wanna arrest that guy, you're gonna have to wait six weeks.

No, sir. He's a buddy of mine. Then go ahead.

How ya feelin', Boone? All in one piece.

Nurses told me they had you on that operating table for quite a while.

He was a good boy. He slept through the whole thing.

And while he slept, we discovered shrapnel on his property.

Attention, all personnel. This is Colonel Potter.

Prove it. Tomorrow we'll be issued new army money. Red for blue.

Have all your old scrip ready for the exchange,

or the only place you'll be able to use it is in the latrine.

He's not talking to me. I lost all my money in the cockroach races.

I told you to stay away from the track. How could I? It's in my bunk!

Hey, Maxwell. I got 400 I won in a crap game.

Could you exchange it for me? I'm kinda laid up.

Oh, in that case, sure.

I appreciate what you gentlemen did for him. By the way, my name is Maxwell.

If there's anything I can do for you, let me know.

How about arresting this war for disturbing the peace?

That is very nice, Mr. Kim.

My compliments to your talented fingers.

I tailoring very goodly for Winchester sansen.

Goodly, indeed.

Coat fits good over shoulder.

Pants fit cute over tushy.

‐ That's terribly colorful, Mr. Kim. ‐ Roger Wilcox.

Thirty‐six bucks. You pay now.

Mr. Kim, I have an idea that will mean much more money than that for the both of us.

‐ I have a proposition. ‐ Thirty‐three bucks.

Mr. Kim, listen. Tomorrow the army is calling in old scrip.

Ah, yeah. Red for blue. That news all over town.

That scrip is meant only for military personnel.

It's not meant for your people. However, I'm prepared to overlook that.

‐ In fact, I am prepared to help them. ‐ What kind of help?

Tomorrow, Mr. Kim, we buy up from your people...

all the old scrip before the deadline,

not quite at face value.

‐ How much not quite? ‐ Ten cents on the dollar.

‐ Savvy? ‐ I savvy. Ninety percent profit for you.

Two percent of that is for you, Mr. Kim.

Oh, you big sport. Thirty bucks.

Mr. Kim, I need your help.

Why you do this? You loaded American.

Buy tailor‐made clothes. Please, 29 bucks.

Mr. Kim! It's not the money.

It's the hunt.

It's the challenge of scenting the spoor of opportunity and tracking it down.

Besides, we're merely acting as business agents for your people.

They're not allowed on the base. After tomorrow, the old scrip is worthless.

We're doing them a big favor.

Mr. Kim honest man.

No can make phony baloney with my people.

Please, $28.

Mr. Kim, it is either a check now...

that may take the rest of the war to clear,

or cash tomorrow if you help with my little plan.

What time we leave tomorrow?

I think I got a counterfeit bill.

Looks legit to me. A perfect likeness of Mao Tse‐tung.

I don't know. "In Buddha we trust"?

Ah, Mr. Kim. Of Hart, Schaffner and Kim.

Hawkeye sansen. B. J. sansen.

Are you adding to the Winchester wardrobe?

I add to his wardrobe, but he no add to my pocket.

‐ He didn't pay you? ‐ He only pay me compliment.

Holding money back until I help him with big deal.

What's the big deal? All around my village, they got old money.

He make me take him tomorrow.

Buy one dollar scrip from people and pay only ten cents.

You, uh‐‐ Yeah.

Hang on, Mr. Kim. We'll see what we can do.

Mr. Kim very grateful. Dress shirt in it for both of you.

How about that? Charles is just what this place needs‐‐

a robber baron who makes house calls. It's greed.

He's a greedy fink. We need a way to sink that fink.

Where'd you get all this money, kid?

Nine straight passes.

Then someone rolled a grenade in the game, and we all crapped out.

Well, this will all be new scrip tomorrow. Gotta run.

Sergeant, we'd like to take you up on that favor.

Name it. We want you to play a game of cops and robbers tomorrow.

We'll supply the robber. Where?

A couple of miles out of camp. Well, what time?

About 1500, 1600 hours. Give or take a hundred hours.

Ah, sorry, guys. I can't. I gotta be here to exchange Boone's scrip.

Tell you what. You do us our favor, and we'll do you his favor.

We love to exchange favors. Okay with you, Boone?

I guess so. I trusted them with my life.

You got a deal.

May I join you, Father? Mm, of course.

I want to pay you the money I owe you.

Oh, w‐well, sit right here.

Thanks. And bless you for an honest woman.

Oh, uh, don't you owe me another 10?

No. Oops! Sorry.

They were stuck together.

Ah, shearing the flock again, Father? Yes.

And I was one of the lambs. He clipped me for 23 bucks.

As a matter of fact, she was holding a straight...

and tried to sandbag me.

I had a full house. But it's all worthwhile, mind you.

For the children's Christmas fund.

I can see it now. Father Mulcahy, Bishop of Las Vegas.

Ah, look who's here.

Oh, hi, Colonel. Hello, Colonel.

‐ You'll never believe what I'm gonna tell you. ‐ Then why listen?

Ha! Pierce, sometimes you can be very amusing. And then there's now.

‐ Ah. Sorry. ‐ I have an order from Headquarters...

to give an entrance examination to West Point... Oh.

to‐‐ Are you ready for this?‐‐ Corporal Max Klinger.

You're right. I don't believe it. West Point?

That's impossible. God works in mysterious ways,

but this is a corker.

By special messenger yet. Obviously, some Toledo politician has gone wacko!

Ah, how time flies.

One day our little brown‐eyed girl is running around...

in a floppy hat and a beard, and the next day she's off to West Point.

He did it. That brilliant screwball finally did it.

He's getting out of the service by joining the army.

To think that loony bird will be attending the same school...

that produced MacArthur and my Donald.

‐ Makes me want to retch. ‐ Yeah, how could Klinger pick a place like that?

‐ You‐‐ ‐ I take it back! I take it back!

Hep, ho, hep, ho, hep, ho, hep, ho, hep, ho! Detail, halt!

There's "Old Nose and Guts" now. Oh, Field Marshal?

Sir!

You wanted me, sir? Klinger?

Your application to be tested for West Point has been green‐lighted.

Excellent, sir. A plebe at last, sir.

When do I leave, sir? As soon as you knock off the "sirs" and pass the test!

Child's play for a cadet.

‐ Congratulations, my boy. ‐ Thank you, Father.

Klinger, how did you pull it off?

It was my Uncle Gus, sir.

‐The uncle that got out of World War I as your Aunt Gussie? ‐Yes, sir.

He's, uh, "good buddies" with a certain congressman.

And catered the St. Valentine's Day Massacre.

‐ He's a biggie, sir. ‐ Connections. Why is it always connections?

Sure. Uncle Gus calls congressman. Congressman calls Pentagon.

And voilà. The debutante with the hairy legs becomes a cadet.

All right, Klinger. Get ready for the exam. Dismissed.

Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!

I think we have a wonderful chance of beating Navy this year, sir.

More than dismissed!

I'd have thought my horse would have a better chance of getting into West Point.

On looks alone. Probably figured it was easier...

to get thrown out of West Point than Korea.

Sure. First exam, he cheats. They catch him, throw him out, and he's free.

He's not there yet. They don't just let in any Tom, Dick and Mary.

Imagine, a chance to go to the Point.

Keep your hopes up. Maybe someday they'll let in women.

‐ Wouldn't that be wonderful? ‐ Oh, yeah. It would give a new meaning to "lights out."

Hey, Zale, where's my money? I'm goin' on "R" and "R."

Oh, yeah. Sure, kid. Here, hold this.

That's, uh,

five, 10, 20.

There you go. Do everything I'll be dreamin' to do.

Hmm. Wait a second, Zale.

You said double or nothing. Where's the other 20?