M*A*S*H

Eight months is a long time to be engaged, Major Houlihan.

Pickups without teeth.

It's hardly your affair, Major Burns.

An affair is an affair is an affair.

Who wrote that, Hawk?

Gertrude Stein to Alice B. Toklas

on a piece of brown paper bag.

I understand they were very close.

Oh, yes.

They wrote together, traveled together,

and gave each other German haircuts.

That's two pieces of shrapnel.

Personally, I think your Colonel Penobscott's

full of banana oil.

Not intending to pry, Major,

but has your wedding date been set?

Not yet, Father.

No ring. No wedding date.

Uh, I think it's, uh, "Thanks for the buggy ride."

Burns, why don't you get off Major Houlihan's back?

More sponges.

Oh, I'm sure Major Houlihan's Colonel is sincere.

‐Oh, for God's sake! ‐That's what I had in mind.

Frank, do I hear a little wave of jealousy

‐drifting through O. R.? ‐Jealous?

How could I be jealous? I'm a married man.

‐MAN: Hah! ‐I heard that "Hah."

Will someone please change the subject?

Why, did it wet itself?

I read that a Japanese businessman,

while playing golf in a rainstorm,

was struck by lightning in his zipper.

Shocking.

Medically speaking, he had his zip zapped.

‐Was he all right? ‐Oh, he's fine.

Ever since his accident,

he's been crazy about "Stormy Weather."

I‐I think we're getting 'im.

Uh, Colonel Penobscott?

Uh, yes, sir. It's Major Houlihan calling.

‐Right. You got him. ‐Donald? Donald?

‐Right, why don't you sit‐‐ ‐Oh, no, I'm fine.

I just wanted to talk to you, darling.

‐You have it. ‐I know I could have written.

Oh, it's so good to hear your voice.

Well, did you get Mr. Hotsy Totsy on the phone?

This is personal. Please leave.

‐I'm happen to be here on business. ‐Oh.

Corporal, have you got those papers I asked for?

‐Papers, sir? ‐I'll find them myself.

‐That's my monthly report! ‐Uh, Donald‐‐

Donald, I've been talking to a friend,

and this friend suggests, and I agree‐‐

Time to get a few things straightened out.

That it's time to get a few things straightened out.

‐Time to set the date. ‐It's time to set the date.

‐No, well, I realize that you're busy, dear. ‐Oh, sure he's busy...

fraternizing with bathhouse bimbos.

‐What's a bathhouse bimbo? ‐Start not listening, for a change.

‐Do you hear me? ‐Yes, sir. I mean, no, sir!

‐Shut up! ‐Right.

Who is this friend? No, I don't mind telling you that.

‐No names! ‐Major Frank Burns.

‐Ooh! ‐That's right. Yes.

‐You're scrunching my report. ‐That Frank Burns.

‐You're scrunching‐‐ Sir, could you just‐‐ ‐You will?

Oh, Donald, that's wonderful!

‐Oh, could I just‐‐ ‐I can hardly wait to see you!

‐It took me a whole‐‐ ‐Bye‐bye!

‐Frank, you did it! You've done it! ‐Did what?

‐Did what? ‐He's coming here. He wants to talk to you.

‐What do you mean? ‐He's coming here. He's on his way. Donald!

‐Here? ‐Yes!

‐Penobscott's coming here? ‐Yes!

‐To MASH? ‐Yes!

He said he wants to straighten things out once and for all.

Ease up, please. Look what you did.

Sir, can I have two weeks' furlough?

‐No. ‐Oh, golly.

‐Klinger! ‐Pass off, Klinger. You're always hogging the ball.

‐That's no way to talk to a lady. ‐It's a habit, guys.

In Toledo, if you pass the ball to somebody, they sell it.

‐Let go, you crumb! ‐(whistle blowing)

‐Oh, sorry, Father. ‐You fouled him, Colonel!

Radar, you wanna reorganize the entire filing system?

‐Jump ball! ‐Isn't it unusual for the ref to change his call?

Not if he's a corporal.

Colonel, I believe you're standing on my foot.

‐It's only a friendly game, Father. ‐(whistle blows)

Get it, B. J! Get it! Get it!

Over here! No!

‐Hey, that's two! ‐(all cheering)

‐KLINGER: Colonel! ‐WOMAN: Over here, Colonel!

Get it! Over here, Father!

Get it, B. J.! Over here! Over here!

I'm on your side, Colonel!

‐(whistle blows) ‐(overlapping shouts)

‐DONALD: Colonel Potter? ‐Yeah, what?

Lt. Col. Penobscott, sir.

‐Ah! ‐Ah!

‐Sherman Potter. How do you do? ‐A pleasure, sir.

‐Captain Hunnicutt. ‐Hi.

‐Captain Pierce. ‐Hello, how are you?

‐Lt. Peters. ‐Lieutenant.

‐Father Mulcahy. ‐Father.

‐Corporal Klinger. ‐Corporal.

‐Corporal O'Reilly. ‐Corporal.

Lieutenant Colonel?

Major.

Now there's your regulation hug.

Wow. They must really like each other.

‐Then how come they close their eyes? ‐(chuckles)

Would you excuse us, Colonel, sir?

Of course, of course.

Gee, I'm so embarrassed. I threw him the ball.

It was very sportsmanlike.

‐Why don't we take a walk? ‐Okay.

Not being one to gossip,

but they seem like a nice‐looking couple.

Strapping young man. Academy, you know.

West Point or Arthur Murray?

We gonna play ball anymore? I was getting hot.

Klinger, there's too much human drama unfolding.

Jeez, I wonder what they're saying to each other.

She's saying, "Donald, darling,

I'm not getting any younger, you know."

And he's saying, "Margaret, darling,

"I couldn't love you more.

"But I promised myself not to marry

until I made brigadier general."

"Let's not rush into this thing

like a couple of crazy army kids."

"Oh, Donald, darling, I don't care what your rank is,

as long as it's lieutenant colonel or better."

"Kiss me, you fool."

Amazing. How'd you know that?

She was puckering.

All right, knock off the eavesdropping.

Let's go over to the Mess Tent for a cup of Joe.

Come on, Radar, you'll only irritate your glands.

Ah, here they are, a handsome couple.

Klinger, why don't you get the Major and the Colonel some coffee.

‐I'd be proud to. ‐Oh, no, thanks. Not now, Klinger.

Lt. Col. Penobscott has a little bomb to drop on all of you.

‐How poetic. ‐I haven't been bombed in a week.

I don't know how to say this, but, uh,

Major Houlihan and I would like to get married

as soon as possible.

Why don't we toast the happy couple?

They're too big for our toaster.

We'd like to expedite our marriage

because I'm due back in Tokyo in 48 hours.

‐Father Mulcahy. ‐Present.

Will you join us in wedlock?

Don't do it, Father. Three's a crowd.

I'd be honored to marry you.

‐I'm gonna cry. I know I'm gonna cry. ‐Steady, soldier.

Colonel, uh, what's the procedure?

‐Radar? ‐Uh, there's nothing to it, sir.

All you need is permission from your commanding officer

and Form 1027‐A.

Uh, then you need your overseas nuptials

in a combat zone Form 1136.

And then, uh, your embassy registration Form L‐1101.

All typed up nice and neat in triplicate.

‐Don't forget the blood test. ‐And then I marry you.

‐Father, do you do Methodist? ‐Piece of cake.

Oh, right, Klinger, we'll need a cake.

‐Radar, warm up those forms. ‐Yes, sir.

Here, you're in charge of that.

My first command.

‐Morning, Major Burns. ‐Morning.

‐Major Frank Burns? ‐Yes, sir?

No, sir.

That's him. That's Frank Burns.

You're the man I wanna see.

Hold it.

‐I wanna talk to you. ‐Donald!

Father, do you do Presbyterian funerals?

I'm innocent! I never touched the girl!

‐I'm a happily married man! ‐Hold still, Major!

I don't know what anyone's told you,

but all we did was play chess,

make chains out of rubber bands.

And last Christmas,

we made little pussycat cookies.

Major Burns, at ease!

I'm trying to tell you how grateful I am to you.

‐What? ‐It's your fault I'm here.

You inspired Margaret into insisting we get married.

I'm indebted,

and I'd like you to be our best man.

Really?

‐Radar? ‐Yes, sir.

What's the latest poop on the wedding?

Uh, Captain Pierce and Hunnicutt wanna give Colonel Penobscott a smoker.

Good. Good. Did you tell them no horsing around

in class "A" uniforms at the wedding?

Yes, sir. Captain Pierce says he's gonna be on his best behavior

‐but he won't wear pants. ‐You tell him no pants, no champagne.