It had been a long, dreary March for Murdock. He had come down with a bad case of the flu, bad enough that the guys took him to the hospital to make sure it didn't develop into pneumonia. The timing was bad as not even two days later, the guys had gone off on a mission and Murdock hadn't heard a word from them since. Not even so much as a 'wish you were here' note.
As if being sick and lonely weren't bad enough, there were the ward's orderlies. Most of them were alright, but one pair - both named Bob and practically joined at the hip - were there strictly to get paid and they wanted to get by with doing as little as possible for that paycheck. If they were the ones tasked with delivering meals, the meals would not only be cold, but would also be missing any food item that either of them liked. As one Bob was the nephew of the head nurse, complaining did no good and brought retaliation in the form of meals being skipped completely.
Tacked on to all of that was a new doctor who decided that part of Murdock's problem was overstimulation. At the doctor's orders, Murdock was in a room with no window, no television, no magazines - nothing to look at all day but antiseptic white walls. Add it all together and the normally exuberant Murdock had become unnaturally quiet and depressed. The new doctor thought that was an improvement and took what he considered to be the net step of the 'cure' - a bland diet consisting of meals made up of plain oatmeal, boiled chicken, unflavored gelatin and some sort of milk pudding. After viewing it, Murdock decided that bland meant lacking in color as well as taste. Since the oatmeal and chicken would both arrive cold and congealed, he didn't even get to smell food.
Health-wise, Murdock was over the flu now, but still trying to regain his strength. The food and lack of stimulation wasn't helping. His tray had arrived a couple of minutes before and he was staring at the contents. One piece of chicken that had been boiled so long that the meat was white and flavorless, an ice cream sized scoop of ice cold mashed potatoes that had no seasoning or butter, a few cubes of clear, unflavored gelatin and a small glass of milk. Ironically, the glass of milk was the warmest thing on his tray.
Knowing he needed to eat if he hoped to get out of the hospital bed, Murdock was steeling himself to eat when the door opened again and the two orderlies entered with large grins on their faces. Murdock was immediately wary, but became hopeful as they spoke.
"You should straighten up, man. Looks like someone remembered you're still alive after all. You've got visitors."
Murdock's eye lit up. The only ones that could have possibly come would be the rest of the team and that would mean that they made it back from their mission safely. He even felt a smile start to form just before the second orderly chimed in.
"Yeah, dude - we thought it was a special occasion, so we even marked the calendar for you."
Having lost track of the passing of days, it took a moment for it to register with Murdock that the date inside the thick red circle was April 1st - April Fool's Day.
Seeing Murdock's expression fall, the two orderlies began to cackle like hyenas as they left Murdock's room.
"Man o man! Did you see the look on his face? He fell for that hook, line and sinker!"
The first orderly was laughing so hard that he didn't see what he ran into at first, but the sight of the scowling, powerfully built man in front of him sobered him up quickly. While he was babbling, his friend was unwisely stepping in between the other two men and the door to Murdock's room.
"I'm sorry, sirs, but the doctor has ordered complete rest for the patient and that means no visitors."
The oldest of the group looked at the second Bob with the coldest blue eyes the orderly had ever seen. Tugging on the black gloves he was wearing, the man spoke, his tone no warmer than his icy gaze.
"Son, you have two choices. You can step to the side and let us pass or we will step over you. Either way, we're going into that room."
Blinking as he wondered how the men would step over him, Bob number two received his answer along with a hard right to his jaw that dropped him to the floor. As promised, the men stepped over him. A moment later, he was partially lifted by a firm hand grabbing a handful of his scrubs and he found himself being unceremoniously pulled along by the large man who also had a firm grip on the first Bob.
As B.A. entered, he saw that Face already had a protective hold of Murdock while Hannibal was giving the meal on the tray and the featureless room equally disdainful looks. When Hannibal saw that B.A. had the orderlies well in hand, he moved to the other side of Murdock's bed and laid a hand on the too-thin pilot's shoulder.
"Sorry it took us so long to get back, son. You should have propped up the postcards somewhere to give you a little something to look at."
The puzzled look on Murdock's face combined with the first Bob renewing his escape attempt had the other three members of the A-Team narrowing their eyes. Stalking over to the first Bob, Hannibal got right into the man's face, enunciating each word in a tone that told the orderly he had better not respond with anything less than the entire truth.
"What - did - you - do - with - them?"
Swallowing hard, Bob's answer was hesitant as he knew that what he was going to say would not be received well.
"We tossed them in the paper bin to be incinerated."
The other Bob piped up.
"They haven't run the incinerator all month because it's down for repairs."
Hannibal took a firm hold on the first Bob's scrubs before speaking to B.A.
"I'll keep an eye on this one. You and the other 'gentlemen'? Go retrieve the Captain's property."
"Right, Hannibal. Com'on, fool. And you better not be lying about where they are or you might get a view of the inside of that incinerator yourself."
Ignoring the man still in his grip, Hannibal gave the spartan room another look of pure disgust.
"Face? Find Murdock's clothes. He's not staying in this hole another hour. That okay with you, Murdock?"
"That's more than okay with me, sir. I never want to see another piece of boiled chicken again."
Giving his friend a reassuring squeeze, Face took a closer look at the food on the tray before giving Murdock a look of dismay.
"Not even any salt or pepper on it?"
"Nope. Probably would have made it come too close to resembling food."
In what was a spectacular piece of bad timing on the doctor's part, he chose that moment to come in and check on his patient. His attempts to order Hannibal and Face out died as he began to quail under the weight of their collective glares. B.A. and the second Bob effectively blocking his retreat a minute later didn't improve his nerves.
Face's first inclination was to punch the doctor that had prescribed the cruel treatment of his best friend, but then a better thought occurred to him. As B.A. guarded the door, Hannibal and Face stood guard over the doctor and made him eat every mouthful of the meal that had been ordered for Murdock.
As Murdock was now dressed, the team prepared to take their leave, but not before Hannibal turned at the door with an unpleasant smile on his face.
"You know, you gentlemen look like you've had too much stimulation today. I think a little rest would be just the thing for you."
Face took great pleasure in locking the door behind them and then jammed the lock with some super-glue. Seeing what Face was up to brought a smile to Murdock's face.
"Now that's a proper April Fool's gag, buddy."
B.A. ignored the noises now coming from behind the door and put a hand on Murdock's shoulder.
"Let's get outta here. We need to find a place to eat and get some meat back on your bones."
"Sound great to me, big guy. Hey, tie your shoe lace before you trip."
B.A. had already started to look when he realized that he'd fallen for one of the oldest April Fool tricks in the book. Rolling his eyes, he shook his head before joining in with the laughter as the four of them headed for the van.