M*A*S*H (1972–1983): Season 4, Episode 5 - Hey, Doc - full transcript

- It's up to you, Father.
- The bet's two dollars.

I don't think I've got a prayer.

- Three Hail Mary's beats
two of a kind, Father.
- I'm out.

Uh, I ain't got two dollars.

Youse guys accept
a two-day pass?

Put it in. Paper's paper.

We're certainly gonna miss you
around here, Sergeant.

A lot of our hopes and cash
will leave with you.

Yeah. Well, I put in my time.
Thirty years' worth.

At least four of which were devoted
to official army business.

- Are you in?
- Am I in?



- Yeah.
- With this hand,
you wanna know if I'm in?

Are you crazy?

All right.
Here's your two dollars.

And two more.

And I get the last raise?

Mm-hmm.

Two, four... six.

I'm out.

I must've been born
under a ladder.

All right.

- What have you got?
- Full house... kings and tens.

- Phew!
- Three eights.

Eight threes would've been better.

Hey, it's light out.



- Can I interest anyone in a Mass?
- Of what?

Well, another day in the R.O.K.

- Have a safe flight home,
Sergeant Kimble.
- Right.

With you out of the motor pool,
maybe the army can finally break even.

You know, I think flight-homewise...

I got a little problem,
Doc, with my ear.

I've got chronic
adhesive otitis...

with eustachian
tube dysfunction.

[Chuckling]
How do you know that?

A lucky guess...
and a little research.

- How long have you had this?
- I caught it the second I read about it.

- Your ears will hurt if you fly. Right?
- Bad.

Like to get out of that little,
tiny plane and into a big, big boat?

You know, you guys are
too smart to be officers.

Kimble, the truth. How much loot
are you planning to ship home with you?

I figure a couple
of thousand pounds.

- A ton?
- I didn't say that.

Right. That's your word
for 2,000 pounds.

And that's just personal effects
and toilet articles. Right?

I'm only taking enough to open
a restaurant back in Philly.

"Kimble's Korean Kafe."
Three K's. You get it?

You can buy your linen
from the Ku Klux Klan.

- What about the two eyeholes?
- He can put the salt
and pepper shakers on them.

All I'm asking is that
you put in my medical file...

that I can't fly.

That requires three
medical officers' signatures.

- You two are two.
- Last time we counted.

- Colonel Potter?
- The man's hopelessly honest.

- Major Burns.
- Major... Major Burns
do something thoughtful?

He sends his kids
collect birthday cards.

- How long before you ship home?
- Two weeks.

But with my connections,
I can get the orders changed.

We'll do what we can.
By the way...

MacArthur wants to know if he
can have the car Saturday night.

Of course.

- Boy, that poker game
really tapped me out, boy.
- Me too.

You couldn't lend me a few bucks,
could you? Against next month?

- I lent you against
next month last month.
- Oh, yeah.

- Oh, this water sure does feel good.
- Yeah.

It's been gettin' too muggy
for me lately, boy.

Even the weather stinks
in the army.

I read somewhere that
General MacArthur don't even sweat!

Can you imagine?
He just don't sweat at all.

Probably has some private
do it for him.

- Boys.
- I'll be out in a minute, Father.

Take your time. I took a bit
of a bath in the poker game.

Huh!

Anyone heard they've spotted
snipers near the camp?

- Pay no attention, Father. Just rumors.
- It's just a rumor.

- Hmm. Hey!
- [Gunshot]

- [Gunshot]
- That rumor almost
came through the door!

I'll be out in a minute, Father.

Can you H.Q. Boys
give me some help, Barney?

I've got sniper trouble.

- [Gunshots]
- No, a British patrol will be fine. Yes.

Right. It'll give me
a chance to use my English.

Thanks, Barney.
Everyone's a comedian.

See the men get plenty, Stokes.
We'll be about an hour.

Mind? Lieutenant Chivers,
29th Brigade.

- Hunnicutt, Captain.
- Pierce.

Ah. I know a family
named Pierce in Kent.

I've got an uncle in Suffolk. Sheep
farmer. He's the one who never married.

My lads've been trying
to clean up the area.

Snipers rather like giving you guys
in medical a knocking about.

- Demoralizes the troops.
- Makes us feel a bit dreary as well.

Ah, it's a rotten war, all right.

Still, it's the only one we've got.

I say. You wouldn't
be doctors, would you?

Except for eight years
of medical school, we wouldn't.

I, uh... I have a small problem.

- We're very sensitive to small problems.
- The smaller, the better.

- Actually, it's hardly
worth mentioning at all.
- Let's forget the whole thing.

No! No. What I mean is,
you may not think so...

but it could be awfully dicey for me
if this appeared on my service record.

Shall we repair to the clinic?

- I'd be most grateful.
- A privilege, sir.

I'm a lifelong Anglophile. England
is still the only place I know...

where any young man can
grow up to be the queen.

What you must understand
is that British C.O. S...

are absolutely bonkers
on the subject of foot care.

An officer neglectful enough
to develop an ingrown toenail
is in serious trouble.

What can they do?
Make you turn in your feet?

Hold up a promotion,
deny you leave, the lot.

Aha! The offending digit.

So, in spite of all
the training films and lectures...

you went and got yourself
an ingrown toenail instead of
saving yourself for marriage.

- Yes, I'm afraid so.
- Well, you came to
the right place, Lieutenant.

- Yes, I've been told.
- Often these things are done
in sleazy backrooms in Cuba.

- We're clean and safe.
You're aware of the price?
- Yes.

According to the Pierce-Hunnicutt
Ingrown Toenail Clinic
conversion table...

one severe metatarsal perionychium will
cost you exactly two bottles of Scotch.

- Two bottles it is.
- Doctor, the hydrogen peroxide, please.

Lieutenant, you've put your foot
in the right hands.

You'll be doing
the Lambeth Walk in no time.

- Hey!
- Oh, for Pete's sake!
Somebody swiped our microscope.

That stinks. Anybody who'd
steal a hospital's microscope
would take Tiny Tim's crutch.

[Chivers]
Thievery's getting quite out ofhand.

Last week I lost
two machine guns and a tea cozy.

- But a microscope!
- I might just be able
to get us another one.

- Colonel Potter, Lieutenant Chivers.
- Sir!

- Ingrown toenail, eh?
- Pretty fast, Colonel.

It's my third war.
I've seen more British toes
than I have American fannies.

- What's the going rate these days?
- Two bottles of Scotch.

- Good stuff?
- Jolly good stuff, sir.

It'll be welcome.
I had some local moonshine last night.

Curled the hair in my nose.
Hawkeye, I want you in post-op.

Tank Commander, 1 st Cav's here to visit
one of his men. You worked on him.

- Ah, the life of a star!
- Yak-eta, yak-eta.

- Ta-ta for now.
- Yes.

All right, Lieutenant.
Stick out your toe and saw "ah."

Your people are doing
a big job here.

You know the wholesale business.
Over here.

Major Burns handles
our most difficult cases.

Which is only fair.
He's our most difficult doctor.

You see that foot?
Ha-ha. That's mine.

We had to take it
out of his mouth.

Your man would be
right here, Colonel.

You think the sun shines
out of your bellybutton, don't you?

- I'm having it corked.
- Sergeant Moretti.

Glad to see you again, Moretti.
They taking good care of you?

No. Excuse me, Colonel.

This is Private Mumford.
This is Sergeant Moretti.

- What?
- This is Sergeant Moretti.

Oh. You get well now, boy.
Your buddies miss you.

I miss you. The outfit's
not the same without you.

He's out of the game, Colonel. We had to
use one of his ribs to give him a chin.

Pretty standard stuff.

Sometimes we use
the jawbone of an ass.

Well, his tank is waiting
whenever he's ready.

It must be very exciting riding around
in one of those massive machines...

with that big cannon going through
everything in front of you.

Major, if you'll walk this way.

If she could walk that way,
she wouldn't need the talcum powder.

I gotta be shoving off myself.

Moretti, keep in touch.
Be sure to write.

Good-bye, Colonel. Be sure to drive
on both sides of the road.

Oh, Doc. Doc, listen. Uh...

As long as I'm here...

Sweetheart, you just
say the word...

and you'll make me
the happiest man in this camp.

Come on. I'm serious.
Where... Oh!

We were just rehearsing for
the talent show. Honest to God.

I told you we should've gone
to my place.

As long as you're here, Colonel?

What? Oh, oh.

Well, I, uh...

I got kind of this, uh,
delicate problem.

And there would be, uh,
certain ramifications...

if I, uh, if I were
to check into a base hospital.

Say no more, Colonel.

We here at the 4077
are very social-minded...

particularly when
it comes to disease.

I appreciate your coming to us instead
of one of the local physicians...

whose medical training comes
from watching Jean Hersholt
deliver the Dionne quintuplets.

That's originally
what I had in mind.

Yeah. Odds are you'd have given him
20 bucks for penicillin...

and he'd have shot a few cc's
of Wildroot Cream Oil into your rump.

- Hair cream?
- That's right.

Doesn't cure you, but you wind up
with the best-groomed tochis in town.

[Knocking]

Yo!

- You got a minute?
- Always for you, Doc. Come on in.

Wanna wet your whistle?

I got Scotch, vodka,
bourbon, rye, sake.

Just pour it all in a doggy bottle.
I'll take it when I go.

- Sergeant Kimble, you wanna make a deal?
- Talk to me.

Pierce and I'll get you
on a ship on one condition:

You scrounge us
a new microscope.

- What's wrong with the old one?
- Stolen.

- Stolen?
- Stolen.

These people are too much.

Do you know what I have to go through
to steal it for us?

- No justice.
- Where am I gonna get another one?
They're tough.

As tough as carrying a Korean cafe
home in two suitcases?

You got me by the eustachian tubes,
ain't ya?

I hope so.

If... I find
another microscope...

you guarantee the boat?

I'll have the captain
back it up to your tent.

- Ready, Colonel?
- Yeah.

I'm gonna leave this in a minute.

- Hey. That was very smooth.
- Thank you.

Ooh! Oh. That penicillin smarts.

Not as much as Wildroot.

I feel like a damn fool.

It's a big club. Okay.

Here's a list of dos and don'ts.

You've already done the biggest don't.
The rest is easy.

Now, you're sure this won't appear
anywhere at all in your records?
Or my record either?

- Sure what won't appear?
- I don't know how to thank you, Doc.

Colonel, if I never see you
with your pants down again...

that'll be thanks enough.

A very kind, affectionate act, your
coming here to see your sergeant, sir.

Oh, thank you, Father.
Thank you.

Colonel's a very affectionate man. It's
what happens when the love bug bites.

If ever there's anything
I can do for you, Doc...

- [Gunshots]
- Get down!

- [Gunshots]
- Ah, civilians!

[Gunshots Continue]

Come on, Frank.
Throw something.

I don't want to throw
something you need.

It's a new hand.
I need everything.

Well...

[Chuckles]
Gin.

- But you said you didn't need anything!
- I lied.

[Laughing]
I lied. What'd I catch you with?

- You're certainly
a savage at cards, Margaret.
- Oh.

- Sixty-eight!
- And 25 for going gin.

And, uh, we were in spades.
That's double.

186.

I'm out in all three games.
You owe me one pair of nylons for each.

Only if you let me play
shoe salesman.

You're a little savage too.
Aren't you?

[Both Laughing]

You, uh, really found that tank
commander attractive, didn't you?

- I wouldn't say that.
- Don't toy with me, Margaret.

- I'll bite your T-shirt to ribbons.
- [Knocking]

- [Hawkeye] Frank?
- [B.J.] You in there?

- They're trying
to catch us at something.
- We're not doing anything.

Oh, yeah.
Who'd have thought?

- Come in.
- Interrupting?

Not at all. I know I'm in here,
but I'm not doing anything.

We'd like you to sign this.

Uh, I examined Sergeant Kimble
last month.

There's nothing wrong with him,
except a possible hernia from
mailing truck transmissions.

Yeah. But if we fake his profile,
he'll get us a microscope.

Fake? Huh. Include me out!

What about the next wounded kid
that comes in that needs a blood count?

I'm sick of hearing
about the wounded.

What about the thousands
of wonderful guys fighting this war...

without any of the credit
or the glory...

that always goes with those lucky few
who just happen to get shot?

- I think you've finally
gone out of your skull.
- No. Wait a min...

No. A microscope would be useful.
You could use it to examine your I. Q...

- or your feelings,
or your tiny little heart.
- Hawkeye.

- Out! That's it! Out!
- You heard him. Out! Out!

You know, you're beautiful
when he's angry.

Antagonizing Frank
didn't help at all.

I've had to put up with him
longer than you.

- You're supposed to be
smarter than he is.
- A houseplant is smarter.

I've had more intelligent conversations
with people I was doing autopsies on.

- Tact wouldn't have hurt.
- A lot he cares about a microscope!

Doctor Burns! He'd prescribe
a laxative for a brain tumor.

Things are looking up.

- [Hawkeye] That Chivers?
- The charge of the Scotch brigade.

- Doctors.
- How's the, uh, small problem?

- Splendid.
- You do understand...

that your toe should have
nothing to do with any other toes
for at least a month.

Yes, Doctor.

Also, no liquor for the toe,
and don't wear any spicy socks.

On the subject of the former...

I believe this covers
your services.

Like a Scotch mist.

My thanks again, sirs.

- Mention this to your friends.
- Our business is largely word of foot.

Tallyho.

- [Gunshots]
- [Shouts]

- This isn't happening!
- [Gunshot]

It feels like it's happening.

[Radar On P.A.] Attention.!
Sniper activity in the compound.!

- It's murder out there.
- Attention, all personnel.
Inside's your best bet.

Ahh! One down.

[Gunshots Continue]

Ahh! They were only
eight years old... both of them!

[Gunshots Continue]

- Ooh. Ooh.
- At ease, son. At ease.

Thank you, sir.
Maybe later.

- About the sniping...
- We're doing all we can.

I'm working at my desk
and Radar's scared.

- And that's all?
- I can work twice as hard, if you like.

- Radar, can you be twice as scared?
- No problem, sir.

- C-Colonel, will you...
- Look at this. Come here.

- What is that?
- [Hawkeye]
Two bottles of toenail juice.

The Scotch!
Eight-year-old Scotch!

Ah, well.
The good die young.

- [Gunshots]
- [Shouts]

You know what
would scare 'em away?

- Cavalry. Today's cavalry. A tank.
- Let's not shoot off any cannon!

No. Nothing like that.
Just the sight of a tank would do it.

It's like having a big dog
in your front yard. Works every time.

Radar, that Colonel Griswald was here
from 1 st Cav. Get him on the horn.

- Right.
- Why him?

I showed him
a few cc's of kindness.

- He had a slight case of carnal flu.
- Off the record, of course.

- Seemed like a decent duck.
- Loved by one and all,
especially off base.

He's comin' on.

- Radar, you're a model of efficiency.
- I built him out of a kit.

- Hello! Hello!
- [Gunshots]

Yeah. Can you speak up a little?
Somebody's trying to kill me.

Colonel Griswald?
Yes, sir. Hold on, please.

Just a moment, sir.

Hello, Colonel?

Captain Pierce, your friend in need.
Remember?

Colonel, I have a little problem
here that might interest you.

We're getting a lot
of sniper fire and...

[Gunshots]

I beg your pardon?

- You're very busy right now?
- [B.J.] Terrific.!

Colonel, the above sniper fire
is endangering all
my private medical records.

All of them. I may have to put them
in the official files for safekeeping...

where anyone and his uncle
can get a very good look at them.

Yes, sir!

Monster, isn't it?

Good ol' American know-how
and insanity.

Can't tell you how grateful
we are, Colonel.

This tank'll give us
a lot of security.

We tried a night-light,
but it didn't work.

- What's the blessing for a tank, Father?
- "Thank God" will cover it.

This bucket of bolts happens
to be going in for maintenance.

I can let you have it
for 24 hours.

- Terrific, Colonel.
I'm sorry about the bad news.
- What bad news?

Your medical records were destroyed
in the last attack.

- Burned to a cinder.
- Ohh.

Well, I guess you can keep it
for a week.

That'll be long enough
to scare the North Koreans
and both Chinas out of here.

Thank you, Colonel.
How 'bout a belt for the road?

No, no. I can't do any drinking
for quite a while.

We're cleaning up an old tank driver's
complaint... bloodshot hips.

What?

- Make it 50 cents.
- Call.

- Just once.
- I'm in.

Uh, and up 50.

- Anything beats just one ace, Radar.
- The bet's a dollar.

- Call.
- Right.
- In.

- I'm light.
- Go.

This is the way to run a war.
For the last 24 hours...

the only frightening sound
has been Frank's mouth-breathing.

No luck on the signature yet.
Right?

[B. J.] We'll get it,
if we have to resort to torture.

We're making a bid on an anthill later.
Go ahead.

- Frank, you didn't!
- Did too!

- At Fort Benning.
I trained in one for a week.
- You never told me.

Ah. They said it was a shame
I was a doctor.

They felt I had the same
killer instinct as Patton.

- Oh! You're just funning me.
- Oh, yeah?

Oh, Frank! Should you?

Ha! Think just those hotshot colonels
can handle these babies. Huh?

[Laughs]
Stand back, puddin'.

[Margaret]
Ah, Frank. Do you think you should?

Cinch-a-reeno!

- Oh, Frank.! Oh.! You're...
It's starting up.
- [Engine Rewing]

Stand back, Margaret.
[Laughing]

Now, be careful, Frank. Just...

Frank, do you know what you're doing?
Are you sure you know what you're doing?

Uh, I'm gonna get out
of the way, Frank.

- Boom.
- Frank?

[Frank Laughing]

Frank.! Oh, my...
Frank, it's a...

Frank! Do you see me? Frank!

Are you in control?

You're going the wrong way!
It's the girls' showers!

Oh! Girls! Out! Frank!

- [Screaming]
- [Frank] How do you stop this thing?

Frank.!

Oh, my... Frank!

It's Major Burns! Help him!

[Excited Shouting]

Frank!

Colonel, save us!

No sweat.
Watch an old cavalryman in action.

[Frank] Oh, no, no. Colonel.
Colonel. Colonel Potter.!

Stop! Pull over! Burns!

[Frank]
Don't leave it there.! No.! No.!

Don't leave it there.!

[Gunshot]

[Applauding, Cheering]

[Man]
Let him have it.!

[Angry Shouting]

Terrific, Frank.

Especially when you did
that figure eight over Colonel Potter.

Burns, you got any excuse
for that jackass behavior?

I'm sure he has, Colonel.

Somehow the tank got started,
and it went crazy. Frank jumped in.

- [B.J.] Saved us all.
- Somebody had to.

Uh-huh.

- What?
- Sign on the bottom line, Frank.

- Sergeant Kimble's medical profile.
- Yeah. That's blackmail.

- Huh?
- Blackmail's an ugly word.

We prefer "extortion."

- B-U-R-N-S, Frank.
- B-U-R...

Yeah.

There you go.
Very good.

- [B.J.] Thank you, Frank.
- Oh, yeah.