This technique was inspired by Bottom's speech in Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream.
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Henry Blake sat at his desk. He peered over to the clock. 5:00. Whether it was AM or PM he did not know. And frankly, he did not give a damn, either way.
Dinner or breakfast would be coming up pretty soon. They were going to be serving WWII surplus pork. It was always a little heavy on the salt but it was better than liver. Although, the liver last night... he was boring himself.
Henry looked at the clock again. 5:01.
"Ra- " he started. Before he could finish his Company Clerk rushed through the door, in his normal fashion. Baggy fatigues, oversized shoes flapping, hitting various cabinets, lightly.
"Sir. I filed the efficiency reports- "
"File the efficiency reports and tonights movie- "
"- has officially been canceled."
"- should be aired early."
Henry looked between the both of them. Something was not right. "Did you say tonight's midnight movie is canceled?"
A grin spreaded along "Radar's" face. "Yes, sir."
"You can't do that! These people are bored to death! At twelve,"
Noon or midnight? he wondered.
The commander continued, "At twelve, I saw someone make a water balloon out of coffee and iodine! We need this movie!"
"Yes, sir. But someone stole it."
Henry sat down, with grief. "Ho John."
The houseboy had stole before but he promised not to again. Besides what would border guards want with Bonzo Goes to the Circus? What would anybody want with Bonzo Goes to the Circus?
"Oh, no, sir. He left for Maine a week ago."
Henry sighed.
"I think we have a real mystery in our hands."
The young man looked surruptiously intrigued and took the seat across from Henry.
The CO tapped his chin in thought. "Pierce- "
"McIntyre. Right away, sir."
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Wrist back and flick and return. Twenty-seven paper wads caught and he wasn't even using Tippy.
Henry looked at the clock. 5:23.
He propped his feet up upon his desk and pushed back as to where the neck of the chair was leaning against the wall behind it. He rocked back slowly. This was comfortable... hmmm....
"Colonel Blake!"
Said name woke up and frantically tried to put himself back together. The office furniture didn't agree with him. His legs (Henry's not the chair's) left the desk too early and the chair and Henry's weight was applied to the wall. The neck of the chair slid down the wall, bringing the chair's content with it. When the neck reached the floor the wheel popped up, knocking Henry, violently, to the floor.
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Henry's eyes opened. He blinked them, distrusting to the light.
"Colonel Blake, are you okay?" a hushed, excitable voice enquired. "I... uh... couldn't find Captains Pierce and McIntyre."
That was the least of the Flat lander's's concerns. He felt around him. Smooth, cool, barely touched. It was transparent to him that he was lying his desk. "Radar?"
"Yes, sir?"
"Did you move me up here?" He grabbed at his sweater, damn was it cold in Korea.
"Uh, Igor helped. Are you okay?"
"Daisy. Just help me to my tent."
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"Are you sure you're okay?"
"I'm fine." Radar lowered Henry onto his cot. Henry's not Radar's. "I'm just going to catch forty winks."
"You might want to catch fifdy or sixdy; you fell pretty hard."
"I'll take that into mind."
Henry lied down and pulled up his covers.
"Are you- "
"I'm sure."
The clerk scooted out of the tent and closed the door, not to disturb his now sleeping commander.
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11:46. Three minutes later than last time. Just like the time before that. And the time before that. And the time.... He had made it a general routine in these last thirty-six minutes. Just like that, every three minutes, like clockwork. In fact, it was clockwork.
See, thirty-six minutes ago Henry was awoken by cold, clammy, shakes and belly pain. And for thirty-six minutes he laid in that cot, too afraid to get up, in fear of blacking out again.
He rocked back and forth to orchestrate a friction that would keep the contents of his stomach in his stomach. Unfortunately... he lost it.
Henry supposedly needed a doctor and Mobile Army Surgical Hospital was a good place to find one.
Gathering all of his courage he stumbled out of his tent. To Post-Op or the Swamp. Not Post-Op; only nurses at this hour. To the Swamp.
The Swamp was half-way across the compound but it held the only other doctors in the MASH besides himself. Them being Pierce and McIntyre.
Holding his gut, Henry made his way to the doctors' tent. By the door, the camp's chaplain, the head nurse, and Pierce seemed to be fighting over something.
Too ill to care for manners he yelled out Pierce's nickname, with as much power as he could, "Hawkeye!"
No answer. Henry looked around. The camp's cross dresser and the Company Clerk were vexing for "Hawkeye's" attention, as well. Oh....