Bombed
Margaret: We ran naked in the snow.
Trapper: We ran naked in the subway.

Trapper: Just the old football injury.
Margaret: Knee?
Trapper: Hemiroid. I spent a lot of time on the bench.

Trapper: We've got cots, blankets and a lot of extra plasma.

Margaret: Why can't I have a blanket of my own?
Trapper: Conservation of body heat. 98 degrees plus 98 degrees is 196 degrees.
Margaret: It doesn't work that way. You're just saying 196 degrees so you can get under the same blanket with me.
Trapper: Are you questioning a doctor's medical opinion?
Margaret [suddenly alert]: What are you doing with your hands?
Trapper: Just saluting.
Margaret: I don't trust you.
Trapper: You don't trust me? John Xavier McIntyre? In my grammar school on Graham Cracker day I was elected crumb boy.
Margaret: You'd better not try any hanky-panky.
Trapper: I haven't even got a hanky, and I left my panky in my other suit.