BJ Hunnicutt turned and let out a small chuckle.
"HA! Half my moustache? Is that the best you can do? C'mon, Hawk! Revenge is nice, but show some imagination! Trapper probably would have socked you for the insult to his intelligence!"
Hawkeye merely stayed in bed and smiled.
"It gets better, Beej!"
As she exited the shower, Margaret Houlihan heard wolf whistles. Her robe had been cut up and refilled with fabric that fell away to show the real woman behind the Major-so to speak. Mortally embarrassed, she ran back to her tent and found a note. A note from a soon to be dead man.
"No art! No panache! Hawk, you just don't have it anymore! The King-You-Is dead. Long Live The King-Me!" Hawkeye said nothing.
Father Mulcahy found himself wondering why the powdered eggs had so much flavor this morning. When the flavor didn't decrease, he wondered further. Five pitchers of water later, he returned to his tent, to find a note from a man seeking the rigors of Purgatory.
"Wha-hat you don't understand, is, that you may be Chief Surgeon, but I am Chief Wit. I mean, I took a simple thing like my pal's visit, and had you more nervous than I have ever seen you! And that includes the Caves!"
Hawkeye pretended to be bitterly ignoring him, and just said, "Yeah, yeah. Chief Cave-Wit"
Max Klinger's ruin of a filing system was in ruins. His face looked like he had gone 15 with a coal mine-and lost. He found a note that had steam coming out of his trademark nose. He headed out to bring that note-writer to pain. Joining him were Majors Houlihan and Winchester, the Padre, and the Colonel. All disheveled, all notes in hand. All steamed.
"I am High King Of Practical Joking. Look upon my works, ye Mohican, and despair! Aw, c'mon, Hawk, don't be bitter! Just give me my due! I've earned it"
Hawkeye sat up, and spotted a small crowd in the distance. Now was the time.
"Tell ya what, Beej. Claim your title again, loudly, and I'll acknowledge you. Just to get this done with."
BJ smiled, at this.
"I, BJ HUNNICUTT, AM HIGH KING OF PRACTICAL JOKING, HAVING TAKEN MY CROWN FROM TRAPPER AND HAWKEYE! Now, give me what I deserve!"
Margaret shouted from behind. "Oh, don't worry, BJ, you'll get what you deserve! To think, we trusted you!"
The man who gave out KP was looking potatoes at BJ. "And I quote, Hunnicutt : Let's all be in on it. You'll all PRE-tend to get snookered!"
Winchester, now. "Apparently, the pretense at Pierce's expense was not to be the only pretense. If you survive this, BEEEEJ, you'll have my compliments."
Klinger actually looked hurt. "It was all in good fun, right? So you won a bet, we had a good laugh, and Major Houlihan got to pay Captain Pierce back for the old shower days. But then the fun went out. You did a good job lowering our guard, I'll give you that much. Oh, and, By the By, this is a pretty rotten forgery of Captain Pierce's handwriting!"
Father Mulcahy waved the note in question. BJ was glad it wasn't a ruler. "Why settle for 1, when I can get all 6? Couldn't have done it without you, Love, BJ! PS - HA!"
"Listen, guys, could you take this outside? I gotta sleep off that whole escapade. You all got me pretty good." Hawkeye laid back down.
"Sorry, Pierce. Come along, Hunnicutt. Your old CO has some INTERESTING things for you to do!"
As the others left, BJ stayed briefly. Hawkeye saw BJ's glaring face, and smiled.
"Hobson's Choice, Beej. You can let them know it was me, and lose your crown, or keep your silence, and your crown----and lose your head. Needless to say, any retaliatory jokes will seem suspicious as hell."
As BJ saw Potter walking over with what looked like Sophie's stable-shovel, he felt like he was already deep in it.
Resolved to maintain his public mastery, BJ asked Hawkeye, "Ok, howzabout Half-A-Crown?"
Pierce was all smiles. "Works for Me. Kinda like, say, Half-a-moustache?"