Hello, readers. I know most of you have read fics where kids (mostly girls) have gone back in time to the MASH unit, meet everybody, yada yada yada. I, personally, like those fics. But what if it happened backwards? Instead of the girl going to the MASH unit, the MASH unit came to her? THAT IS WHAT THIS FIC'S ALL ABOUT, BABY! I think this is the first one in this section, but I'm not sure. . . Well, read and review! Tell me if I should continue!

Quote of the Day:

Col. Flagg: I have no home. . .I'm the wind.

Hawkeye: I told you he was the wind, you said he was the stars!

B.J: No, I said he was the moon.

Disclaimer: I wished upon a star, prayed to God, broke a wishbone, and covered myself in lucky items (rabbits feet, 4-leaf clovers, horse-shoes, etc.), but I still don't own MASH. Pity, isn't it?

What The Hell Is Going On?

Chapter 1

Bad Day

'South Carolina, 2004'

You know, before the whole 'incident' happened, I was just a normal 15 year old girl waiting for my life to start. My name's Vicky Turner. Since my parents died when I was four, I live with my grandparents (my father's parents), on their farm, on top of a very large and steep hill. The farm is at the edge of a small (small) town here in South Carolina. The house I live in is an old, two-story Victorian house with a tire-swing in front, a cherry tree in back, and a stable beside the house with a huge, penned field on the other side. Granny and Pop raise pigs, horses, cows, chickens, and an old goat. We also have an evil, snaggled-tooth tom cat that lives in the old shed out back, and an old collie named Mattie.

My grandmother, I shall say now, is absolutely insane. One minute, she's everyone's favorite grandmother, and the next, she thinks she's on safari, assuming an annoying fly is a lion as she tracks it down with a fly- swatter, wearing khaki hunting clothes. Granny is a small, bone-thin woman who usually keeps her steel-colored hair back in a bun.

My grandfather can be insane himself, sometimes. Usually however, he was a thin, tall man that was very quiet, very wise, and very grumpy. Pop didn't have any hair, and he wore small, circle-framed glasses. He mostly wore black pants, a thread-bare shirt and suspenders.

As for me, well, I'm of average height and very skinny for my age. I have thin, limp blonde hair that hangs down past my shoulders a little. My eyes are brown, and I'm. . . uh, how should I put this. . . a little under- developed. I mean, I'm not as developed as other girls. I don't have many hobbies, except drawing, reading, and watching MASH, my favorite show.

But anyways, the day all hell broke loose started off BAD, which was very fitting on what happened, depending on how you look at it. That morning, I fell out of bed when Granny woke me up. As soon as that happened, I knew that it would not be a good day. After falling out of bed, the next bad thing that happened was I bruised my knee on my bedside table, then when I went to brush my teeth, I squirted toothpaste in my eye. Do you know how painful that is? That seriously stings, man.

At school, I got an F on a test, got hit in the head with a soccer ball during PE, got dumped by my no-good-dirty-rotten-god-damn-son-of-a-bitch-ex- boyfriend ('Look, Vick, it's not you, ok, it's me. I just think that we should see other people, you know, widen our horizons a bit, that's all.'), and forgot to do my term paper.

At work (I work at a gas-station/store, part time), I encountered five, count 'em, FIVE angry customers because the gas-machines weren't working. Now, was that my fault? Was I the manager? Did I look like a mechanic? No, I didn't, and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it.

"All right, I'm goin' now." I told my best friend, Cindy, as I untied my blue apron that all the employees at the gas-station had to wear. Cindy was black, and had long, straight hair that she usually wore in a ponytail. She looked at me in concern.

"Girl, it's late, you should call your grandparents," she told me. I smiled at her concern as I picked up my bookbag. "I'll be fine," I replied. "Anyways, I'll probably get home faster if I walk. After all, I've got a ten-paragraphed paper on World War II that I haven't started yet and it's due tomorrow, and you know how slow Pop drives." I turned and walked out.

"Call them!" Cindy shouted after me. I turned around slightly as I walked to look at her.

"I'll be fine, don't worry," I called. Then I turned back around and headed down the road, ignoring her as she shouted at me, "Call them!"

Now that I think about it, maybe I should have called them. . .

Along the way home, I got drenched as several cars splashed me with puddles produced from the rain storm that hit us the day before. When I got home, I was soaked from head-to-toe. I took out my house key to unlock the door, because Granny and Pop were usually asleep by then. But to my surprise, the door was unlocked. Worried, I stepped into the silent house. "Granny," I called. "Pop?"

"In the kitchen, Victoria," I heard Granny call. Relieved, I hurried down the hall and into the kitchen. Granny turned and beamed at me. The first thing she said was, "Oh, Vicky, it's so good to have the boys home from the war!"

I blinked, confused. The only war that I knew that was going on was the one in Iraq, and I was pretty sure I didn't have any male relatives over there. "Excuse me?" I asked. Granny continued, "John even brought his fiancée here. Such a pleasant girl. . . and Matthew is such a comedian, too. . ." By then, I was really confused. Granny was talking about my father's older brother's, Johnathan and Matthew, both long dead. "Are you feelin' okay?" I asked as I followed her into the dining room.

I stopped to talk with Pop as he walked out of the dining room, a sour look on his face. Before I could ask, he said, "We've got company," and shuffled to the living room to sit on his recliner and read the paper. I looked at the coo- coo clock hanging on the wall. It read 8:35 on it. I sighed. I would have to stay up for a loooong time to write that paper.

I shuffled into the dining room to a) see who the visitors were and b) get some food. My body and mind froze when I saw who was sitting at MY dining table. I faintly heard Granny say, "Vicky, dear, come and fix your plate, and say hello to your uncle's! Don't be rude!"

The entire crew of MASH sat at my table. Well, Hawkeye, Trapper, Henry, Radar, and Father Mulchay, anyway. Frank, Margaret, and Klinger were sitting on extra chairs that had been placed up against the wall. I couldn't think. I couldn't breathe. Instead, I said this:

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!!?!"

So, what ya think? Remember, this is only the first chapter. Like it? Hate it? Let me know so I can update! Ideas are always welcome!