(Untitled)

[swampman4077]

Hawkeye stumbles out the door of the officers' club, glass in hand, and staggers toward the Swamp. He opens the door and falls onto what he thinks is his bed, not even realizing this isn't his tent.

[[Hawkeye Pierce from the book/movie/TV show M*A*S*H]]

Comments

[theblondgypsy]

*Pierre Gringoire, the effects of Beezlebub's curse having worn off, is out and about when he steps on Hawkeye* What on-Oh, it's only a drunk. Nothing out of the ordinary. *goes on his way, careful to step over Hawkeye*

[swampman4077]

Hawkeye groans and flops onto his side, knocking his glass of gin to the floor.

[minaharker10_2]

Sir, are you all right?

[swampman4077]

"Huh-wha?"

Hawkeye looks up blearily and, seeing the woman, smiles.

"I am now. Hello, beautiful."

[minaharker10_2]

*blushes* Thank you, Sir, but this is most improper...I do not even know your name.

[minaharker10_2]

Slightly more awake, but still extremely drunk, Hawkeye leers at her.

"So shall we say eight o'clock?"

[run_jump_play]

[typist] OHMYGOD HAWKEYE. LOVELOVELOVELOVELOVE*SMEXESHIMUP* [/typist]

*toddles up to Hawkeye and smiles, sitting on the good doctor's stomach*

[swampman4077]

[typist: curious george. that is AMAZING!]

Hawkeye sees the monkey on his stomach and groans, letting his head fall back down.

"Trapper, give the monkey back to whoever you got it from."

[run_jump_play]

[Thank you. ^_^ I can never seem to get deep and interesting characters, so I go for the WTF factor.]

George lets out a little apeish chortle, before the light happens to glint off Hawkeye's dog tags. He coos softly before walking up to stand on his chest, picking up the tags and turning them over in his hands.

[swampman4077]

"TRAPPER!"

Hawkeye feebly waves his hands in an attempt to get the monkey off of him.

[capital_r]

Typist: AAAAAH HAWKEYE I LOVE YOU! :D :D :D :D

*and here's Grantaire, poking vaguely at Hawkeye with a foot* You'll get splinters that way, y'know. Floors don't make very good nighttime companions.

[swampman4077]

Hawkeye groans and sits up as a splinter does indeed find its way into his back.

"Gee, thanks, Frank." he begins in a voice dripping with sarcasm. Then it slowly dawns on him. "Wait a sec....who are you?"

[capital_r]

"Certainly not Frank," he replies, flopping next to Hawkeye cheerfully. "I'm Grantaire. M. de Winecask, if you like."

[swampman4077]

"Hawkeye Pierce." Hawkeye says, holding out a hand to shake. "I'll be with you as soon as the room stops spinning."

[admiral_grumpy]

*looks down with...pity, perhaps?* I hope you're not on duty, sir.

[swampman4077]

"Mmm-mmm." Hawkeye moans, shaking his head just slightly. "Just got off.....eighteen hours...."

[admiral_grumpy]

He smiles in understanding. He's had those moments before in his career--the endless work, the running on nothing but the motivation to go on. "Well, the hours get a lot shorter from now on. But I think I'll wait until you sober up to tell you why."

[swampman4077]

"Thank you." Hawkeye mumbles, "Good.....guy."