Radar looked to the right and to the left of himself, checking for officers of higher rank than the lush before him. "Uh, sir, um..."
"Yesh, Walter?" Hawkeye hung himself on Radar's sholder.
He cleared his throut. "Sir, are you... drunk?"
Hawkeye stood up in the normal rant-banter position. "I, Hawkeye Piershe, drunk? Surely, you jest. But if I wush drunk you would know about it. You know everything. You slither in and out of Henry Blake'sh offishe and into our mindsh! But, oh no, you don' tell anybody what you know becaushe your too loyal! That shmall Mid-Weshtern upbringing! And the shmall man who livesh it!"
Radar was a good boy. He was P. O.-ed by Hawkeye rudity but he was a good boy and wanted to salvage what was left of the captain's reputation. "Hawkeye," he yell-whispered. "let's..."
"Forever Mama's good little boy! Wonder what Mama would shay about the shecrets your keeping!"
Radar glanced around at the crowd gathering.
"Buy 'H' and get brain!" Just like that Hawkeye scampered off.
The crowd dissolved and Radar was, once again. alone, minding his own business, and carrying many, many pancakes.
He sat down at a table in the corner which occupied no one but himself and thought about what in God's name just happened. Like Hawkeye said, he kept many secrets, so that made it harder to find out which perticular one his mom would be upset about. Klinger needing him to justify iodine for his next Section 8 scheme wouldn't upset her, just puzzle her. Nurse Able wanting extra R and R wouldn't upset her, she thought people 'round here needed more rest. Frank and Trapper--
"Oh, jeez!"