M*A*S*H

What do you know? The foot bone is connected to the leg bone.

No iron deficiency in this kid.

I'm beginning to think my M. D. stands for metal detector.

Wouldn't you just love to see

a tennis elbow or a simple case of warts?

Case of warts? No, thanks. Six‐pack is all I can handle.

Will this drollery never cease?

Attention, personnel.

Charles has just called a cease drollery.

Lieutenant, if you're through laughing,

could you give me the tape I asked for?

You didn't ask for tape, sir.

Don't give me any excuses, just give me the tape.

Begging your pardon, sir, you didn't ask her for any tape.

Who asked you?

Greetings. I bet

you miss the peace and quiet of combat.

What's your name?

Conway, sir. Private Paul Conway.

Well, Private Paul Conway, no broken bones,

but your simple torn ligaments have simply made my day.

This is the kind of injury that makes me homesick.

Let's go. Come on.

I feel like a civilian doctor.

Margaret, pass me my putter

and see this man is charged an arm and a leg.

Make sure it's the good leg.

Doctors, all combat injuries should be taken seriously.

But I wasn't hurt in combat.

I thought you just came in off the line.

I did, but what happened was

when we got the signal to move out,

I fell in a foxhole.

No more jokes, huh, doctors?

He feels bad enough already.

Why, Margaret, this is a side of you I've never seen.

Not even when the shower curtain fell.

Why don't you people just tend to your knittin'?

I'm sorry, Colonel,

but this guy's ankle has tickled my funny bone.

A body not sublet by bullet, grenade, or mortar

demands comment if not a standing ovation.

It's just common decency

not to laugh at another person's misfortune.

You're not gonna believe this one.

Two broken collarbones.

Poor guy was in a foxhole when some clown fell on him.

Margaret, a little common decency, please.

Radar, thank God it's you. I've called all over Tokyo.

Klinger, I told you the last time you called me,

I don't wanna talk to you.

‐Good‐bye. ‐Please.

I'm climbing the walls trying to do your job and‐‐

‐(laughter) ‐What's that noise?

Hey, there's a big party going on here, you know.

Tokyo's a wild place.

Livin' it up pretty good, huh?

I would be if you wouldn't keep

disturbing my festivising.

Reach my wife yet?

I'm working on it, sir. Really trying.

I don't want you trying. I want you succeeding!

You hear that, Radar?

I don't know what's wrong between the colonel and Mrs. Potter,

but he's driving me crazy.

Did you reach my wife yet?

For three days, no one answers at her house. Where else can she be?

Well, she plays canasta at Willa Norman's on Tuesday,

and bridge at Edna Hazeltine's on Thursdays,

unless Mr. Hazeltine's lumbago is acting up,

and then they go to Muriel Barlow's.

Let the phone ring. She drinks.

Listen, can I go now?

This call is disturbing the party.

Muriel Barlow's. I feel like a census taker.

Is that my wife, Klinger?

Uh, the lines got crossed, sir. I'm talking to Guam.

Ask them if they've seen Mildred.

Okay, Radar, I got it.

But can you cut one R out of your R & R

and come back now, please?

Look,just don't bug me anymore.

I got too much wildness going on here

to answer any of your dumb questions.

Say hi to Colonel Potter and Hawkeye. Bye.

Bye.

Hey! Knock off the noise in there, will ya?

There's people on R & R over here.

Resting and reading.

Okay, Klinger, you're surrounded.

When are we gonna get some fresh laundry?

I just tried to fold my sheet, and it broke.

Please, I'm eating.

Don't try to play on our sympathy.

What smells so good?

Gentlemen, let me introduce you

to a long‐lost friend‐‐ food.

If that's food, what's it doing in the mess tent?

Around here, food is what we play handball with.

Two weeks ago, my fork went over the hill.

Just taste it. Come on.

Mmm. Mmm! Fantastic.

‐ What is this? ‐ Spam Parmesan.

Spam Parmesan? In Italy,

you can get the death penalty for that.

Taste it. Just taste it.

Oh! Oh!

May I quote you on that, sir?

If this was a building, it would be the Taj Mahal.

If it was a woman, it would be Mrs. Taj Mahal.

Wait a minute. Wait a minute. Wait a minute.

Are we supposed to believe

that this little bit of heaven was concocted by our cook?

The cook who made "food" a four‐letter word?

I'm getting that bum reassigned to the garbage detail.

Don't tell the flies. They'll leave.

I found us a real cook.

‐Hey, Conway, come here. ‐B. J.: Conway?

"Look out below" Conway?

The man whose feet are all thumbs?

He must have stumbled over this recipe by accident.

He says the secret's in the sauce.

Gentleman, Chef Paul Conway,

fresh from Café Pierre, New York.

I'm glad you like it.

Boy, it's fun to cook again.

Oh, this food is miraculous.

What are you doing tossing grenades instead of salads?

I told the personnel people I was a cook,

and they make me a rifleman.

See? You should have lied.

I'm a plumber. Look where they put me.

Yeah. So far it's worked fine.

Hardly any of his patients ever spring a leak.

And I do my best, honest,

but I am such a rotten soldier.

Whenever I'm carrying my rifle, the guys will never get near me.

But put a spatula in his hand, he's Toscanini.

Yeah, I'm comfortable in the kitchen.

You might say he's at home on the range.

Parmesan.

The meat is a mystery, but it's definitely Parmesan.

Well, now we know you're good, Conway.

You heard it straight from the horse's nose.

You see, Major, Conway here was a chef.

Klinger, please,

do not shatter this moment. (sniffs)

Charles, are you going to eat that Spam or marry it?

Sir, if ours were a truly civilized nation, you would be king.

Seems to me a clever doctor could find a way

to hang on to a great cook like this.

Klinger, he can only stay until his leg is better,

and then we'll break the other one.

‐Five minutes to coq au vin. ‐I can hardly wait.

Nothing in my entire life

has provided me with the sensual ecstasies

of last night's powdered eggs Benedict.

Or the rapture of Tuesday's chipped beef Wellington.

Ah, what to wear, what to wear.

Be a trendsetter. Wear the green.

‐You're right. ‐(whistling)

Better get a move on, Charles.

You know how crowded the mess tent is these days.

Gentlemen, please,

anticipation is in itself a sensory delight,

a moment to be savored and relished,

not to be‐‐ not to be rushed into and wallowed in,

‐like swine in a trough. ‐Okay, Charles,

but you'll be talking out of the other side of your snout

‐if they run out of food. ‐I will be there

when I am appropriately groomed and dressed.

Let him groom. The less he eats,

the more there is for us.

I like you. You're devious.

Maybe I am and maybe I'm not.

Table of six for Corporal Herbert. Thank you.

Come back again, please. Table 4 is open.

Excuse me. Would you look at this crowd?

More people than yesterday.

Never fear, the headwaiter is an old army buddy of mine.

Names, please?

Klinger, when are we gonna get a table?

‐We're starving. ‐I'd like to eat dinner before breakfast.

I'm sorry. We're booked solid.

Perhaps you might do a little shopping.

Come back in an hour. Will that be a party of two?

You're gonna have a party of five on your nose if we don't get some food.

Look, Captain, this is the opportunity of a lifetime for me.

That kid is an artist. All he needs to make it big is the proper management.

You wouldn't happen to have somebody in mind?

He cooks. I promote.

We're gonna open our own place after the war‐‐

Chez Klinger.

Toledo is crying for another four‐star restaurant.

The other one closed when all the pinboys quit.

Look, Chez, just get us a table.

You gotta wait your turn. No exceptions.

Max, good evening.

Ah, Major Winchester

and Mrs. Winchester du jour.