Hawkeye leaned over the edge of the cot, casually peering down at his commanding officer, who was now comfortably examining the dust on the floorboards.

Hawkeye: “The floor just felt you were looking a little tired, Colonel. It rose up to meet you.”

Potter: (muffled, nose against the wood) “Mighty neighborly of it. You don’t get service like this in the cavalry.”

Just then, B.J. Hunnicutt strolled into the tent, a freshly poured martini in his hand. He stopped, took a sip, and looked down at the scene.

B.J.: “Hawk, is the Colonel doing push-ups, or is he listening for stampeding buffalo?”

Hawkeye: “Neither. He’s successfully defying gravity by surrendering to it completely.”

Potter: (rolling slowly onto his back, staring at the canvas ceiling) “I’m looking for my horse, Hunnicutt. A good commander always knows the tactical position of his mount.”

B.J.: “Under the cot, sir?”

Potter: “She’s a stealth horse. Secret Army experimental division. Very hush-hush.”

Hawkeye sighed, setting his own glass down and offering his commanding officer a hand. With a synchronized heave, Hawkeye and B.J. hoisted Potter back onto his feet. Potter swayed like a pendulum for a moment before snapping into a rigid, albeit tilted, salute to the center tent pole.

Potter: “As you were, pole.”

Just then, the tent flaps aggressively parted. Major Margaret Houlihan marched in, clipboard in hand, ready to deliver a report. She stopped dead in her tracks, taking in the scene: the homemade gin in B.J.’s glass, Hawkeye holding Potter steady by the belt loops, and the Colonel saluting a piece of wood.

Margaret: “What is the meaning of this?! You are all completely intoxicated!”

Potter: (squinting at her, trying desperately to focus) “Ah, Major. Perfect timing. We were just discussing your lips.”

Margaret: (gasping, clutching her clipboard to her chest) “My what?!”

Hawkeye: “Their thermal index, Major. It’s a matter of camp security. The Colonel was just getting to the ‘why’ before the linoleum rudely interrupted.”

Potter: “Exactly.” (He points a wavering, authoritative finger at her.) “And I’ll tell you why…”

He took one confident, dramatic step forward to make his point.
And immediately vanished below the edge of the cot again with a loud thud.

Margaret let out a shriek.

Hawkeye: (looking down over the cot again) “Did you fall down again, Colonel?”

Potter: (from the floor, voice full of dignity) “No.”

B.J.: (taking a slow sip of his martini) “Didn’t think so.”