"It's tan." Hawkeye glances up from his tray, prodding all the while at an off-color lumpy pile. "Smell that, will you? It even smells tan."
Annoyed, BJ pushes his hand away. "The cook says it's creamed corn."
"If that's creamed corn," Hawkeye mutters, dropping his fork with a clatter, "I'll eat my hat."
"Probably tastier."
"I think I am." Father Mulcahy adds, peering at his dinner in surprise.
"Shh," Radar breaks in, "It knows we're talking about it."
Shockingly, it's Margaret who abruptly stands, knocking the bench over. "Oh, for Pete's sake! I can't eat with all of you behaving like this!" Sighing, she lifts her full tray, ready to dump it. A she departs she adds, "Not that I can anyway." She disappears through the doors and into the compound.
"I agree with Margaret." Hawkeye announces. "To the Swamp-- the first round of dinner is on me."
Not unexpectedly, half the Mess Tent follows.