M*A*S*H

What do you got there, Radar?

Oh, it's probably a mistake.

Five thousand diapers and five thousand pairs of rubber pants.

Well, you're all set for winter.

Uh‐huh.

I'd give $10 for this war to be over.

Put me down for ten.

Twenty dollars. How could they turn us down?

We could even go to 25, but don't tell them that in the beginning.

Three months ago‐‐ Hey.

Three months ago, I ordered new boots. I made it easy.

I said, "New boots or let me go back to my old shoe store in Vermont."

Reasonable.

I even offered to let them resole my foot.

Three months waiting. I could've had a third of a baby by now.

You don't have the hips for it.

I need a thick something.

‐What's this? ‐Frank's birthday.

I wonder how old he is.

Why don't we saw him in half tonight and count his rings?

"To my darling husband on the day of your birth.

You made a heaven for me on Earth."

She should've seen Mr. Heaven on Earth in surgery yesterday

putting a nurse on report for giving him the instrument that he asked for.

Thank you, Mrs. Burns, from the bottom of my foot.

‐Hi, Frank. ‐Hi, Frank.

That supposed to be clever?

‐Happy birthday, Frank. ‐And many more, bunkie.

We were gonna buy you something,

but we couldn't get to the 5‐and‐10 yen store.

Buy me something? You guys are so full of prunes!

Now I know what to get you: An electric bra.

That tears it! Where is it?

What filthy whatever have you done with my wife's birthday card?

I don't know how to tell you this, Frank, but your wife's birthday card

is having a thing with my right foot.

That's it!

I want that card out of your boot pronto! And that's an order!

You better do what he says. He could revoke your feet.

‐How much do you want for your boots, Frank? ‐What?

I'll give you 50 dollars and the Ten Commandments in pig latin.

Go peddle your papers!

There's only one thing left to do, Hawk.

I think we should go lean on the supply sergeant.

Very good advice...

from a man who zipped his fly to new heights.

I got you in here, Doc. I know. I remember.

‐10 1/2 C boot. ‐Right. 10 1/2 Charlie.

Here we are. Right next to Captain Milligan's truss.

He never got it. He was shipped home weeks ago.

I hope he had somebody carry his bags for him.

You want the truss if it comes in?

If it's a 10 1/2 C.

Sergeant Zale, I'm a doctor.

I've been operating for a week standing on one foot.

I'm warning you, you're looking at a desperate flamingo.

‐You see that hole? ‐So?

I find it a little mind‐boggling

that I can't get a 10 1/2 C boot.

You want to see a 10 1/2 C hole? Look at this. Huh?

For weeks I've been asking the dentist to fix this, and he's too busy.

What do you think?

That's a hole.

Unfortunately, we're not dentists,

‐but your tonsils don't look too good. ‐Let us snip 'em out.

No chance! I need them to chew with.

Sergeant, if we can arrange your dental work,

you think you just might be able to expedite the 10 1/2 Charlies?

You get me a 20/20 mouth,

and I'll find you a pair of boots so fast it'll make your feet swim.

MAN (on P. A.): Attention. Captain Alvin Mercer

leaves for a honeymoon in Tokyo at 0900 hours.

Any nurse wishing to be the bride, please contact the captain.

No experience necessary.

Klinger, stop fidgeting. Sit back.

It hurts my head.

May I ask why you're wearing curlers?

I'm going on guard duty tonight.

Klinger, when are you gonna wise up?

You been trying to get out of the army

for six months now by wearing dresses.

What's it got you?

Two proposals and a hurt letter from a peeping Tom.

‐Who was it? ‐I don't undress and tell.

Pierce, McIntyre.

Konnichiwa, Dr. Fudderman‐san.

The sun smiles, the river laughs.

Can't help lovin' that man of mine.

Klinger, how can you wear just a skirt on a cold day like this?

You think it's easy being a nut?

‐Bernie? ‐Open wide.

Bernie, I have to ask you a favor before you go down to the pits.

‐Yeah, yeah? ‐You know the supply sergeant, Zale?

Zale. Yeah. What about him?

I want you to give him his bridge.

In two words: "uhm‐possible."

That's cosmetic work. I got people here with sick teeth.

Bernie, look at this.

I don't do shoes. You'll have to get them filled somewhere else.

Bernie, I'm at your mercy. I'm wearing my foot on my sleeve.

Do Zale's teeth, and he gets new boots.

Fair enough. If you help me.

I'm in love.

Just name her. She's yours.

We'll bring her here in chains.

We'll even give her a drug that makes you look tall and blond.

Gentlemen, it's not a woman.

It's Japan.

I love that land,

from the top of Fujiyama to the bottom of its sea,

where even right now

chubby half‐naked diving girls

are irritating oysters to produce pearls.

Makes you want to enlist in the oysters.

I know I'm Japanese. I was born Japanese.

I have a feeling that I was kidnapped by a dentist whose wife was barren

and spirited away to East Orange.

My life there has only been prologue to my final destiny:

Underwater dentist in an all‐night bathhouse.

Uh, look, we're good, but we can't get you a transfer to Japan.

I only want three days.

I wanna visit a Shinto shrine. I wanna see the Kabuki.

I wanna spend an evening with a girl I can think about in years to come

when my wife is talking to me.

Okay. We'll see Henry.

Henry? In the great mouth of life,

Henry Blake is but a temporary filling.

Okay, sir, uh, you sign this top form, then initial all the rest.

‐Initial, Radar? ‐Oh, yes, sir.

Your initials signify that instead of signing, you initialed.

Uh, then you have to sign this form,

which states that you merely initialed the forms that required signing.

Then after you've signed, you put your initial where you signed

so that people will know that you okayed your signature with your initial.

Radar, tell me the truth. Do you understand any of this?

Uh, I try not to, sir. It slows up the work.

Anything else?

Uh, oh! There's these more here too, sir.

Oh, pooh!

I got a bucket of golf balls to wash.

Hey. Three nurses want to transfer out?

Oh, yes, sir. They're really in tough shape.

It's sad to see 'em crying in the shower.

Radar, you were supposed to fix the hole in that tent.

Uh, I did, sir,

but it just took a week longer than I expected.

Major Houlihan, huh?

Yes, sir. She's really giving them a bad time.

The queen of the bedpans strikes again.

There's also something more you should know too, sir.

‐What? ‐Major Houlihan is preparing

a very bad report about you for General Mitchell.

How do you know that?

Well, when I was cleaning out her wastebasket

I accidentally came upon this piece of paper,

which she had been typing with the wrong side of the carbon facing.

So I pressed it with a steam iron

to transfer what she wrote onto this piece of paper,

and then I could see what she wrote

without having to hold up her mistake to a mirror.

That was a terrific accident, Radar.

Thank you, sir.

"Incompetent, inefficient, unmilitary."

‐She spelled "bungler" wrong. ‐Uh, no, that's "bumbler," sir.

Oh, then she got it right.

Boy, that gripes my cookies! What has she got against me?

I've never done a thing to that woman.

Maybe that's it, sir.

Oh, no.

Not without combat pay.

Are you in, Henry?

I'm in enough to ask you to get the hell out.

Bad mood today.

That's right. I'm in a bad mood today.

‐Wow! What ears. ‐What's up, Henry?

Houlihan's got the nurses so crazy,

half of them can't sleep at night.

Yeah? Which ones?

She's also preparing a report to General Mitchell,

where I could wind up shaving patients before surgery.

I guess this is a wrong time to ask you for a favor, huh, Henry?

Not unless you want it turned down. Then it's ideal.

‐It's for Futterman, the dentist. ‐The closet Oriental.

If you give him three days in Tokyo, I can get a new pair of boots.

I'd be lying if I said I understood that.

I'd also be lying if I said I cared.

What if we can get Hot Lips off your back?

I'd give Futterman a week. He could run for emperor.

It never fails. One hand washes the other.

You fix that sweetheart, and I'll give you a bath.

That part of our relationship is over, Henry.

Henry Blake is a sham commander, a farcical administrator

and a spineless, irresponsible, lecherous old beanbag.

Margaret, we're not gonna get anywhere if you keep holding back.

‐My report is going to General Mitchell. ‐Come on, reconsider.

Henry's less than perfect, but we are a team.

Yeah, it's just that he's been in

one too many scrimmages without his helmet.

‐Margaret, what can we do? ‐What you can do mostly is not.

Not torment Frank Burns.