"Hey, Beez."
"Hey, yourself."
"Look over there."
"Where?"
"To the right."
"My right or you're right?"
"There you...do you see that guy over there?"
"The one in the dusty suit?"
"Yeah. What's he doing here?"
"Um, tent by tent salesman?"
"Oh, you're a riot."
"Yup, that's me. A laugh a second."
The two paused, as they continued to watch a strange fat man wander around in front of the mess tent, with a look on his face that could only be considered lost. B.J. tilted his head to the side, and took a sip of coffee, before making a wry face, distracted by the taste.
Hawkeye, however, was not so easily distracted. "Seriously, he looks a little long in the tooth to be a soldier," he said, after watching a minute longer. "Yeah, not dressed right either. Reporter maybe?"
"You don't think they sent us another doctor, do you?"
"Nah, Potter would have said something before now."
"Maybe he was sent to the wrong mash unit?"
"Wouldn't be the first time. Think we should go ask him why he's here?"
"What? And ruin all this wonderful mystery."
"You are nothing but compassionate."
"Hee hee." They continued watching him, as he wove unsteadily past some nurses. Then glanced around quickly, and darted behind a tent, blocking himself from view.
Hawkeye groaned. "Well, now what are we going to do for entertainment?" "Follow him, Mr. Holmes?"
"An Excellent notion, Dr. Watson."
