Newkirk lay on his deathbed, suffering from an unknown ailment.

"How long has he got, doctor?" Hogan asked a young doctor, who looked mysteriously like LeBeau.

"I'd say he's lucky if he makes it through the night." the doctor answered. Hogan covered his face with one hand and rested the other on Newkirk's nightstand.

"He's too young to die! Not like this! Not like this!" he sobbed pathetically.

Newkirk raised his eyebrows and gasped. Who was going to die? Newkirk tugged on Hogan's jacket and cocked an eyebrow.

"Eh, what's this about someone dying?" he queried, pulling the covers up to his chest.

Hogan wiped away a tear and sniffed. "Oh, it's you, Newkirk! I'm sorry you overheard. We wanted to keep this from you for as long as possible."

"Keep what from me?"

"You're a goner, Newkirk!" Hogan cried out, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and shaking him. "You've got one foot in the grave, you'll be pushing up daisies, you're gonna buy the farm, you're gonna kick the bucket! Don't you understand what I'm saying? You're dead, Newkirk, dead, dead, dead!"

LeBeau gestured with his thumb towards the colonel.

"Get him out." Carter and Kinch nodded, and dragged their CO out. Hogan fought them and shook his head wildly.

"No! You can't take me!" the door slammed behind the three and LeBeau was left standing in the room.

"What am I suffer'n from, doc?" Newkirk questioned. LeBeau looked over his glasses and grabbed Newkirk's wrist, feeling for a pulse.

"I do not know. Something somewhere in the stomach. Most likely an ulcer."

Newkirk widened his eyes. "An ulcer? You can die from that?"

"If it is irritated to a certain point, yes." LeBeau replied.

Newkirk frowned, "What causes…er….irritation?"

LeBeau glanced at him. "Eh….spicy, ill-prepared food."

Newkirk made a fist and muttered, "Blimey, it must've been that darned chili!"

Suddenly, the door to the room burst open and Hogan ran in, carrying a big pot of something steaming.

Kinch and Carter shouted after him. "Stop him!" they cried.

"Don't let him suffer anymore!" Hogan shouted, "Just speed up his demise!" with that, he dumped the whole pot of chili on Newkirk.

Newkirk felt burning hot chili splash all over him, and unbearable pain jolt through him. Yeah, he was going to die.

HH*HH*HH*HH*HH*

Newkirk woke up and gasped. He looked around the barracks and relaxed his tensed shoulders. Just a dream….

He felt sweat pouring down his forehead and his stomach ache with stabbing pain.

"Ga, that chili…"