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rwryterTitle: Who’s On First
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
hawkeyecat
Fandom: M*A*S*H
Characters: Trapper John McIntyre, Hawkeye Pierce
Prompt: 077. What?
Community: fanfic100
Word Count: 238
Rating: Everyone
Disclaimer: Robert Altman capitalized on the Vietnam War, not me.
Author's Notes: I have what some may call a “bad habit” of using my Friends list. I say it gets them fic. This prompt was chosen byamazonqueenkate. My thanks, as always, to sarcasticsra for the beta. Change made at housesvicodin's suggestion.
“I’m not playing the game, Hawk.”
“What game?”
Trapper glared across the tent at him, exasperated. “You know what game.”
“No, c’mon, Trap. What game?” Hawkeye cast an innocent blue-eyed look across the tent. It might have worked if Trapper didn’t have kids who tried the same thing.
“Abbot and Costello beat you to it.” There was a letter from Becky somewhere. It had a picture of her that he should put on a shelf or something. Where had he left it…
“They stole my routine?” Only Hawkeye could manage that note of outrage over something he’d known for years.
“You were a kid when they started it,” Trapper reminded him, tossing a pair of shorts over his shoulder.
“I was eighteen!”
“So you knew they’d done it first.” Ah, an envelope with Becky’s scrawl. That could be it.
“It’s too early for logic, and I’m too sober,” Hawkeye declared.
“What else is new?” The picture was inside the envelope. She was the greatest. Trapper set the snapshot on the shelf by his bed. “You drink, I’ll shower. You’ll be sloshed, and I’ll be clean. It all works out.”
Hawkeye seemed to take the idea to heart, given that he was already unclamping the rubber tubing. Before he could get any into his martini glass, though, the intercom crackled to life. Trapper seriously considered cutting the wires, but then they’d have no warning besides Radar. “Attention, all personnel…”
Author:
hawkeyecatFandom: M*A*S*H
Characters: Trapper John McIntyre, Hawkeye Pierce
Prompt: 077. What?
Community: fanfic100
Word Count: 238
Rating: Everyone
Disclaimer: Robert Altman capitalized on the Vietnam War, not me.
Author's Notes: I have what some may call a “bad habit” of using my Friends list. I say it gets them fic. This prompt was chosen by
amazonqueenkate. My thanks, as always, to sarcasticsra for the beta. Change made at housesvicodin's suggestion.“I’m not playing the game, Hawk.”
“What game?”
Trapper glared across the tent at him, exasperated. “You know what game.”
“No, c’mon, Trap. What game?” Hawkeye cast an innocent blue-eyed look across the tent. It might have worked if Trapper didn’t have kids who tried the same thing.
“Abbot and Costello beat you to it.” There was a letter from Becky somewhere. It had a picture of her that he should put on a shelf or something. Where had he left it…
“They stole my routine?” Only Hawkeye could manage that note of outrage over something he’d known for years.
“You were a kid when they started it,” Trapper reminded him, tossing a pair of shorts over his shoulder.
“I was eighteen!”
“So you knew they’d done it first.” Ah, an envelope with Becky’s scrawl. That could be it.
“It’s too early for logic, and I’m too sober,” Hawkeye declared.
“What else is new?” The picture was inside the envelope. She was the greatest. Trapper set the snapshot on the shelf by his bed. “You drink, I’ll shower. You’ll be sloshed, and I’ll be clean. It all works out.”
Hawkeye seemed to take the idea to heart, given that he was already unclamping the rubber tubing. Before he could get any into his martini glass, though, the intercom crackled to life. Trapper seriously considered cutting the wires, but then they’d have no warning besides Radar. “Attention, all personnel…”
