M*A*S*H Page #14

He produces and opens a small box, inside which, surrounded

by pure white cotton, a black capsule is displayed like a

rare jewel. Dago Red, meanwhile, preferring not to know what

happens from here on, makes his way out.

PAINLESS:

(scrutinizing the

capsule)

How do you take it?

DUKE:

(appearing at his

side with tumbler of

whiskey)

With whiskey. A good swallow first

and a big one afterwards. Speeds it

into the bloodstream.

Painless takes the tumbler from him with one hand, the capsule

with the other. He downs a good-sized swig of whiskey, then,

with the capsule in front of his face, hesitates.

PAINLESS:

You guys sure this'll do the job?

DUKE:

We wouldn't give you nothing but the

best.

TRAPPER:

We stand behind all our work.

HAWKEYE:

You want it straight? Medical history

records no instance of anyone taking

this particular prescription and

surviving.

PAINLESS:

Here goes nothing.

He pops the capsule into his mouth and washes it down with a

large drink of whiskey. Hawkeye gestures to the waiting

coffin. Painless gets up and lowers himself into it.

PAINLESS:

How much time do I have?

HAWKEYE:

Just about enough to say goodbye to

everybody.

(announcing)

Line up over here, men, if you want

to pay your last respects. Keep moving

and file on out when you're through.

PAINLESS:

I wonder, if Red's fix swings it for

me, what's heaven really like?

TRAPPER:

It's a bedroom where a man is always

at his peak and doesn't have to take

any time outs.

HAWKEYE:

And all the angels are built like

Lieutenant Dish.

The Last Supper guests are filing by the coffin, bending low

to shake Painless' hand and murmur words of farewell.

DUKE:

Drink up, Walt. One for the glory

road.

He holds the glass to Painless' lips, helps him down the

rest of the whiskey.

TIME LAPSE:

INT. POSTOP WARD – NIGHT

Hawkeye finishes checking a patient, looks to doorway and

sees lieutenant Dish standing there. He crosses to join her.

HAWKEYE:

Thanks for coming, Maria.

(takes her arm and

leads her through

exit)

Sorry it had to be so late.

EXT. MASH COMPOUND – NIGHT

Hawkeye and Lieutenant Dish walk from the Postop Ward.

LIEUTENANT DISH:

I couldn't have slept tonight anyhow.

HAWKEYE:

You're leaving tomorrow?

LIEUTENANT DISH:

In less than twelve hours I'll be on

my way.

HAWKEYE:

That's when the real strain starts.

Three weeks on a troopship.

(embraces her)

Poor baby.

LIEUTENANT DISH:

(kissing him)

Dear, sweet Hawkeye.

HAWKEYE:

Though I guess who it'll really be

rough on is your husband.

LIEUTENANT DISH:

You're on his side all of the sudden?

HAWKEYE:

A man would be more considerate. He

wouldn't come home to his wife a

nervous wreck.

LIEUTENANT DISH:

How would he avoid it... as if I

needed to ask?

HAWKEYE:

It could be a purely impersonal thing.

What matters is the therapeutic value

of relieving your tensions.

LIEUTENANT DISH:

You should have been a marriage

counselor.

(drawing his head

closer to hers)

But I'll show you what's wrong with

your theory.

They kiss passionately. Dish is shaken by it and that shows

in her voice when she continues making her point.

LIEUTENANT DISH:

Do you think anything between us

could be impersonal? Or pure? You

better forget logic, because you're

proving why I shouldn't go to bed

with you.

HAWKEYE:

(after a moment of

massive internal

struggle)

I didn't mean with me.

It takes a couple of seconds for what he has said to penetrate

her consciousness. She looks at him incredulously.

LIEUTENANT DISH:

You're asking for somebody else?

HAWKEYE:

It happens to be a matter of life

and death.

Rate this script:4.0 / 1 vote