Let's deviate slightly from the story and check on the brave and noble
Captain McIntyre, shall we?
D'oh! Almost forgot . . . *heaves sigh*
A/N-I haven't been doing a disclaimer for any of my stories, might as well start now. I am currently negotiating with Fox for ownership of the show, and things are looking good for me.
. . . you actually believed that?
Anyway, let's see what Trapper's up to.
**************************
"Oh, God."
Ah . . . that would be Trap now.
He was lying just outside Rosie's Bar. After drifting back into consciousness, he had started to order Rosie around, and, coupling this with threats, Rosie had lost her temper and tossed Trapper out. Literally.
"Never come here again, Captain!" Rosie shouted at the door. Trapper turned his head and smiled. "Good afternoon *hic* to you too, Rose." The door slammed shut.
The sun was just tiptoeing over the horizon, and Trap managed to stagger to his feet. He shielded his eyes with his right hand, although there was barely any light, and took an uneasy step . . .
. . . which ended up in a face full of dirt.
He had never felt so bad. He crawled over to a nearby bush, and . . . uh . . . erm . . . I'm kinda eating breakfast as I write this, and I think you get the picture.
Trapper crawled from the bush, and stood up again. His legs were shaking uncontrollably, but this time he managed to start walking, albeit in a weaving fashion.
"Hawk's *hic* probably worried about me. I'd better get *hic* back to the Swamp and *hic* grab a nurse. He'll think I was there the whole time."
Cheered by this drunken thought, Trap plastered a grin on his face and kept walking.
As the last few stars faded, Trapper head began to throb unbearably. "Great, the *hic* hangover cometh."
He sank to his knees, and began to cry. "Curse you, Henry Blake! If *hic* you hadn't gone and died, I wouldn't be feeling so *hic* miserable right now!"
Trapper dried his tears on the front of his shirt. He stood too quickly and immediately began to . . .I've been through this already. See the Poptart? *Waves Poptart in front of screen*
The lights of camp were just ahead, and Trap smiled.
He staggered into camp and had just reached the Swamp when suddenly Henry dashed by, dressed in his surgical garb, followed by Radar and Klinger bearing a stretcher. Trapper couldn't see who the person on the stretcher was, but he saw Henry and waved.
"Hey, Henry," he said casually.
Trap opened the door to the Swamp and collapsed onto his cot.
All was quiet.
For about ten seconds.
"WHAT THE HELL?!"
D'oh! Almost forgot . . . *heaves sigh*
A/N-I haven't been doing a disclaimer for any of my stories, might as well start now. I am currently negotiating with Fox for ownership of the show, and things are looking good for me.
. . . you actually believed that?
Anyway, let's see what Trapper's up to.
**************************
"Oh, God."
Ah . . . that would be Trap now.
He was lying just outside Rosie's Bar. After drifting back into consciousness, he had started to order Rosie around, and, coupling this with threats, Rosie had lost her temper and tossed Trapper out. Literally.
"Never come here again, Captain!" Rosie shouted at the door. Trapper turned his head and smiled. "Good afternoon *hic* to you too, Rose." The door slammed shut.
The sun was just tiptoeing over the horizon, and Trap managed to stagger to his feet. He shielded his eyes with his right hand, although there was barely any light, and took an uneasy step . . .
. . . which ended up in a face full of dirt.
He had never felt so bad. He crawled over to a nearby bush, and . . . uh . . . erm . . . I'm kinda eating breakfast as I write this, and I think you get the picture.
Trapper crawled from the bush, and stood up again. His legs were shaking uncontrollably, but this time he managed to start walking, albeit in a weaving fashion.
"Hawk's *hic* probably worried about me. I'd better get *hic* back to the Swamp and *hic* grab a nurse. He'll think I was there the whole time."
Cheered by this drunken thought, Trap plastered a grin on his face and kept walking.
As the last few stars faded, Trapper head began to throb unbearably. "Great, the *hic* hangover cometh."
He sank to his knees, and began to cry. "Curse you, Henry Blake! If *hic* you hadn't gone and died, I wouldn't be feeling so *hic* miserable right now!"
Trapper dried his tears on the front of his shirt. He stood too quickly and immediately began to . . .I've been through this already. See the Poptart? *Waves Poptart in front of screen*
The lights of camp were just ahead, and Trap smiled.
He staggered into camp and had just reached the Swamp when suddenly Henry dashed by, dressed in his surgical garb, followed by Radar and Klinger bearing a stretcher. Trapper couldn't see who the person on the stretcher was, but he saw Henry and waved.
"Hey, Henry," he said casually.
Trap opened the door to the Swamp and collapsed onto his cot.
All was quiet.
For about ten seconds.
"WHAT THE HELL?!"