"I'll start my own political party." Hawkeye declares, three martinis and a scotch later.
Frank scoffs, rolling over in his cot.
"A political party?" BJ sips at his glass, waiting for what he knows is coming next.
"I'll call it Pierce's Party -- nice ring, don't you think? -- and unlike all those damn Democrats and Republicans who talk about peace, I'll actually do something to achieve it." Satisfied, he reaches for the gin once more, ignoring Frank's disapproving sounds.
BJ drains the glass. "It won't last."
Hawkeye nods, suddenly serious. "I know."