AN: Sorry for the delay, folks! I've been really busy. I'm sorry about Trapper in this chapter… He's a bit… Erm… Freaky…
> > >
"Now… You people are insane. Totally and utterly insane."
"Why else would we see a shrink?"
"SHADDUP!" Amy slapped Klinger for daring to comment. "It is apparent that you all despise each other…"
"Not true! I only despise Frank!" Hawkeye protested. Frank became full of angst at this comment.
He received another smack for contradicting her.
"Since you all hate each other so much, we're going to try a nice little exercise. You're going learn to salsa!"
Everyone in the room gaped at her in badly concealed terror.
"Now I need two victims- I mean volunteers." She managed to combine her smile and twinkle into one terrifying expression.
Frank raised his hand, because, in the wise words of Henry Blake, "Frank volunteers for everything. If we had a firing squad, he would volunteer to be in charge of it… Or in front of it... Or both…" He didn't actually know what salsa was, besides the Mexican sauce that goes so well with chips. Actually, that thought nearly discouraged him, considering that he hates the Mexicans, yet he decided that acting un-racist would perhaps take away his angst.
"Good, Frank!" Amy beamed. "Captain Pierce… How about-"
"No." Hawkeye gave her a glare that scared her senseless. Yes, the crazy bitch was scared. Hell had frozen over. Pigs were flying. Margaret was teaching Hawkeye the art of nude horseback riding. Okay… So the last one could have happened, but you get the point.
"Erm… How about you, Captain McIntyre?"
"Huh?" Trapper bolted out of a very weird erotic fantasy involving Amy, mayonnaise, a dog, Charlie Chaplin, a lawnmower and (as a gift to slashers) Hawkeye. I won't bother to tell you about it mainly because it would up the rating to M and it would mentally scar us all. Hell, It would probably cause Radar (we all know he's reading this) to remain a virgin for the rest of his pathetic life.
"Please? For me?" Amy's grin disappeared to be replaced by a cute pout.
"For you, anything!" Trapper didn't know exactly what he was agreeing to, but he was eager to make his sick fantasy a reality. "You'll just have to repay me later…" He added suggestively. Hmmm… Maybe Radar knew a Charlie Chaplin impression…
The fink and finkette gasped at Trapper's blatant flirting.
Henry, Radar, Klinger and Hawkeye just sniggered at what the doctor had gotten himself into.
Amy missed it entirely, of course.
"Thanks!" Amy turned on a jute box, which had appeared in the office due to the magical powers of fanfiction. Distinctly Spanish music filled the room.
"Now, I'll show you two a few basic steps, but after that, you guys will have to feel your way. Frank, Trapper, stand in the center of the circle. It's salsa time."
Amy smiled, happy to share her salsa knowledge with others.
Frank gasped, realizing that he would have to dance with Trapper.
Trapper gasped, realizing that he would have to dance with Frank.
Everyone else laughed their asses off.
> > >
After a rather painful dance sequence, which I will not speak of because I run for the hills whenever my aunt tries to teach me salsa, Frank and Trapper were seated. The dance had begun with a huge argument about who would lead and ended with a "stomping on feet" war. Needless to say, Amy was eating chocolate.
"Corporal O'Reilly, why don't you tell us about yourself?"
"I'm Walter O'Reilly, but only Ma calls me that… Everyone else calls me Radar. I'm a corporal… Um… I'm from Ottumwa, Iowa… What's next?"
Amy's lower eyelid twitched. "Your problem, Radar?"
"Everyone calls me short. Happy, my rabbit, says I'm very tall."
"Erm… He talks to his rabbit?" Hawkeye hissed to Henry.
"They're in a fight, right now. Apparently Happy doesn't like Radar watching when he fools around with Polly." Henry replied. Amy slapped them both for interrupting.
"Well… I hate to break it to you and Happy, but you're short." Amy did the very scary smile and twinkle again.
"I am not!"
"GET OUT OF DENIAL!" She slapped Radar, causing the little corporal to sniff back tears.
"Child abuse." Hawkeye muttered to Trapper.
"NO ACCUSING!" There was a resounding crack as Amy tapped the chief surgeon smartly with her stick. Hawkeye glared at her again, causing her to take a rather large step away from him.
"I'M NOT SHORT!" Radar began to throw a hissy-fit. "I'M NOT I'M NOT I'M NOT! YOU'RE ALL JUST REALLY TALL! NO! I'M TALLER THAN YOU ALL! HA! NOW YOU'RE ALL SHORT!" He stood on his chair which, sadly, only put him at eye level with the rest of the 4077.
"Radar… Lot's of successful people were short-" Amy tried.
"THAT DOESN'T APPLY TO ME!" He screamed back.
"-like Hitler!"
"I'M NOT- Wait… Hitler?" Radar stopped ranting long enough to be confused.
"Yes… Because we all want to become a Nazi…" Hawkeye raised one eyebrow. "You do realize he lost the war… Right?"
"SHADDUP!" She was about to hit him again, but he glared at her. "…Please?"
"NAZIS!" Frank now started on a Nazi rant. "UNAMERICAN-"
"HOW DARE YOU CALL ME UNAMERICAN? SO WHAT IF I ONLY DATE LATINOS!" Amy screeched.
"Only date Latinos?" Trapper was very hurt by this comment and started sniffling.
"I'M NOT SHORT!"
"YOU'RE UNAMERICAN!"
"YOU'RE A BABY!"
"YOU CAN TEACH ME TO SALSA MORE!"
"ZZZZZZZZZZZZZ…"
"YOU STILL HAVEN'T ANSWERED MY QUESTION!"
"STOP INSULTING THE MAJOR!"
"DAMMIT! MY STOCKINGS DON'T MATCH!"
"I'M NOT! HAPPY SAYS!" Stomp.
"I'M NOT A BABY!" Sniffle.
"CRY BABY!" Eat.
"SEE! I'LL WORK ON MY DANCING!" Salsa dance.
"ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ…" Snore.
"SHUT UP, BABY!" Wink.
"STOP SWEET-TALKING ME!" Glare.
"I NEED A MIRROR TO CHECK MY MAKEUP!" Re-apply.
> > >
AN: Sorry about the delay. I need a little help on Animals… I just had another idea for Margaret, and since it's the only one I can use at the moment, do you want me to write it? Also, I have two ideas for Hawkeye… The first one I think is a better one, but it involves him going out of character. The second one is a good idea, but it connects much less on an obvious scale and more on a metaphorical scale… If you don't know what I'm talking about… Well… Then read my other stories:) Also, I will be doing a one shot commemorating the beginning of the war. Just a little something to look forward to! Also, I'm sorry about all the quotes at the end. I know it's hard to read... I just love writing that way! If you haven't figured it out, the order is Radar, Ferret Face, Amy, Trapper, Henry, Hawkeye, Hot Lips and Klinger. I'm officially po'ed... I've had this chapter written since the 19th... Stupid document manager...
Edit Gah! I used WAY too many "also"s in that paragraph...
Kooshball: No referred to her that way, but I still felt like I ought to put that note in… I actually had it written up before anyone reviewed for the first chapter! I really have to thank you for calling Frank an emo… It inspired me to go on and look it up… Hilarious! And yay! You hate them, too! Too much self pity… 0.o… I hate Father Mulcahy because… I don't know… I just do… I LOVE him in the book and movie, but in the show he's creepy-a-fied…
Highmainenance: (Puts booze on Edgar Allen Poe's grave) That ought to calm him down! Finally! Someone who isn't a member of the Father Mulcahy fanclub… It seems like everyone loves him… It's CREEPY! Poor soul… I pity you for having to remain in school…
Destiny Dreamer 2: Ah yes… I had nightmares ever since I wrote it… Klinger's gonna be good (hopefully)! I can very easily see him practicing ballet on Amy's desk… Mwahaha…
Anutheal: First one? I hope I haven't permanently scared you away from them! I like angst, too, yet whenever I write it, I end up going over the top… Trust me, I love criticism! As far as I'm concerned, if I can't take criticism, how am I supposed to get better? I'll try to remember about "anyway".
Christine Ruud: At least. I'll probably go overboard, though… It's rather fun to come up with psychiatry exercises!
Celticmaggie: Ahh, yes... I'm sure she enjoyed it... Who wouldn't? ;)
Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Leave another one, or I'll get my aunt to hunt you down!