I do not own M*A*S*H. I recieve no profit from this.
Igor Straminsky was serving the food in the mess-tent, again. He listened as he was constantly berated for the condition of the food. He wanted to scream out,"It's army surplus, what do you expect!" Though, he never did. After all, almost every single one of them outranked him. He looked out through the doors of the messtent, not really paying attention to how he plopped the food onto the tray. This hauntingly beautiful day is Korea, how it contrasted the bloodshed. The sound of birds singing, such an opposite of bombshells.
Igor thought about his apartment back in New York City. It wasn't that great of a place, but it was home. Igor even missed the busy-body old lady who always wanted to play cards. Shaking his head nostagically, he accidentally plopped Major Frank Burns' potatoes too hard on the tray, causing them to splatter on the Major's shirt. "Straminsky!" The infuriated Major yelled. "I just ironed my shirt!" "I...I...I'm sorry, sir," Igor said apologetically. "Sorry won't pay the cleaning bill!" the Major screamed, completely oblivious to the eye-rolls sent in his direction by the occupants of the mess-tent. What cleaning bill! You're in Korea! Igor thought. Igor then said outloud,"I...I...I'll wash it for you, sir." "Never you mind you...you..ninny!" The Major yelled and went to change his uniform. Igor sighed.
Igor watched as two Captains came down the lunch line cracking jokes at the food. These jokes would have been funny to Igor if they didn't blame him for it. Why do they blame me? Why don't they blame the cook or the president? Better yet, why don't they blame the Army! "Tell me Igor," said one of the Captains, tall and ravenhaired. "What is this?" "Yesterday's bread, Today's meatloaf, and Tomorrow's mashed potatoes," Igor replied. The blonde haired Capatain with the funny mustache shook his head. "Tomorrow's mashed potatoes?" he asked incredulous. "Yeah," said Igor simply. No one can ever tell when I make a joke. The captains didn't ask anymore questions. They just went to a table and set down, looks of disgust placed on their faces.
Later that day, Igor had to help dig a new latrine. The, apparently, incredibly bored captains sat and watched. He wasn't listening untill the blonde one called out, "Straminsky, a little deeper that's Major Burns' end!" Igor just nodded and kept digging. I'd like to see them dig a latrine.
With rumors of a bugout circling, Igor and his fellow diggers just sat around. They did not want to waste their excellent digging skills. Major Burns approached and they all quickly jumped back into their hole. The Major looked at Igor with a ferrit-like, evil glare. "A little deeper on this end, soldier." "Your end, sir?" Igor asked with a smirk before he could stop himself. The Major huffed and walked away. Igor smiled and began to dig again. Maybe today wouldn't be so bad. If only I didn't have to dig this blasted latrine.
I just felt kind of bad for Igor here. So I wrote him a story.
