All language subtitles for MASH.S08E13.Captains.Outrageous.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DD+2.0.H.264-AJP69_track3_[eng]

"His work in his own field
is outstanding.

"Also outstanding

is his frequent assistance
with medical duties,

and his leadership can best
be described as outstanding."

Kind words for me,

but aren't there an awful
lot of "outstandings"?

Army talk. It means you're
the top of the heap.

The best of the bunch.
U.S.D.A. prime.

Get this. "As his
commanding officer,

"I have found him to be
an outstanding man,

an outstanding cleric,
and an outstanding standout."

Pure poetry.
It practically rhymes.

I'm telling you,
you're in.

Now, Klinger,
let's not be premature.

Are you kidding?
When the promotions
board reads this,

it's no more mild-mannered
lieutenant.

In a flash you'll become
Captain Mulcahy,

champion of truth, justice,
and Monday night bingo.

Klinger, you got a mouth
as big as the Missouri Gap.

Hello, Padre.

That efficiency report was
supposed to be confidential.

Sir, you were eavesdropping
on my private conversation.

Right now, Corporal,
I wouldn't mention
the word "private"

if I were you.

Aw, what the hell.

Now that our Lebanese
Walter Winchell

has let the cat
out of the bag,

Padre, it looks as though

you're finally going to get
those captain's bars.

With all due respect, sir,

that's what you said every
other time this came up.

This time's different.
With a lull on,

I've had a chance
to call in
all my I.O.U.'s.

Colonel, I'd just as soon
not get my hopes up.

Padre, I've got more
brass in on this

than John Philip Sousa's
trombone section.

I appreciate
your efforts,

but, uh, well,

maybe we'd better
just wait

and see what happens.

I feel like I just
told him his dog died.

MULCAHY:
Ya-hoo-hoo!

What'll we drink to this time?

How about to inactivity,
the mother of inebriation?

-Thanks, Mom.
-Hear, hear! Thank you.

Mm. All right, Charles,
your turn.

Perhaps later.
I'm still nursing this one.

You nurse that any longer,
it'll start teething.

It is your turn,
Charles.

Don't you know anything
about drunken etiquette?

Always yield to
the lush on the right.

Oh, why not?
Rosie, three more.

It will be
a momentary respite

from this spate
of rummy humor.

Excuse me. Sorry.
Beg your pardon.

Greek eat pig.
Greek sound like pig.

Why they let Turks in here?
To clean latrines?

-I-I wouldn't know.
I'm from out of town.

Hey, I got here just in time
for the cretins convention.

You call this a tip?

No. I call this my change.

Excuse me, please.
Oh, watch out,
you careless twit.

Looks like the drinks
are on him.

You threw a drink on me?

Not on your life. It was
the Grecian gorilla here.

You will die, Greek pig.

Now, hold--Now, see--It
could've been an accident.

Charles, quick,
get out of the combat zone.

Watch it, you bozos.

Try any rough stuff in here,

you'll be pulling triggers
with your noses.

My dear lady, there
will be no rough stuff.

These gentlemen are Greek.

They brought civilization
to the entire Mediterranean.

-They brought goat droppings!

Of course-- Of course-- Whoa!

There's a great deal to be
said for your Ottoman Empire.

-Ottomans enslaved my people.
-Only thing they are good for!

Gentlemen!
Gent--Wait, wait.

This is not going
to solve a thing.

I tell you what.
Let's all--

Let's all--
Let's all dance.

Yep.

Colonel Potter,
why you let your people

act like a bunch
of Looney Tunes?

My place looks
like Pearl Harbor.

I apologize, Rosie.

It's amazing
how a couple of belts

will turn some grownups
into Dead End Kids.

You're disgraceful.

Army officers acting
like street thugs.

Don't blame me. It was
Slapsie Maxie Winchester

and his roundhouse diplomacy.

Yeah. He was busy adding
injuries to his insults.

We were hiding
under a ringside table.

Thank you both very much.

It was hardly
my fault.

I proffered
an olive branch

and was soundly
thrashed with it.

What's this?

Something to kill the pain
while I fix your leg.

I am Turk.
I not need that.

If Turk has no need,
Greek no need.

That'll teach him
a lesson, boy.

One order of
plaster bandages.

It think it's a bum rap.

Uh, give it to BJ,
Father.

Appreciate your
helping out.

Right-O.
Here you are, BJ.

-Oh, thank you, Father.
-Don't mention it.

I'll go make some more.
It's not hard.

Bye, now.

Don't you just hate that
jollier-than-thou attitude?

Ever since he heard about
making Captain,

he's been bouncing around like
he's got helium in his halo.

Would you step on it, Doc?

I got to get back to
what's left of my saloon.

Whoa, señorita.
You've got yourself

a couple of
cracked ribs there.

We have to keep them off
their feet for a week or so.

We don't want you
developing pneumonia.

A week or so?
If I'm gone for one day,

my waitresses will steal
everything but kitchen sink.

CHARLES: How fortunate.

As long as you still have
your kitchen sink,

you can continue your tradition
of fine wine making.

Funny stuff, bozo.
But if I'm over here
for a week,

you'll be stomping
your own grapes

'cause there's not gonna
be no more Rosie's.

We're talking a national
landmark here.

The Drinkin' Memorial.

Well,
it's all your fault.

If you goons had
a shred of decency,

you'd do something
to help her.

We are tending to her
injuries, Major.

Do we now send out
for spareribs?

This hurts us, too,
you know, Margaret.

Pain and war and pestilence
are one thing,

but closing down
an innocent saloon

in the prime of its life
is a staggering blow.

All you talk about
is your own selfish fun.

What about poor Rosie?

That saloon
is her livelihood.

-What do you expect us to do?
-Go run the place.

Run a saloon?

What an idea. Beats
what we're doing now,
which is nothing.

-What do you think, Hawk?
-Yeah, might be fun.

We already know the bottom
of every table

and glass in that place.

Right. Besides,
if we can't take care

of a broken-down joint,
who can?

What do you say, Colonel?

Sounds okay to me.
How's it strike you,
Rosie?

Sure.
What I got to lose?

All right, then.
It's settled.

Unless we get busy,
I guess

you're all on temporary
duty as saloonkeepers.

The word "all"
has, uh--

has an unfortunate
connotation of, uh-- uh--

You can't mean me?

How's the connotation
"set 'em up, Joe" grab you?

Come on, Charles,
you'll love it.

You can be the bouncer.

Besides,
snappy guy like you

will attract
a better class of riffraff.

Water down the drinks?

No wonder the olives
have barnacles on them.

You've got to. Keep prices
from getting high.

Has the same effect
on the customers.

Now for waitresses.

-I get 30% of tips.
-Thirty percent?

My share of what
they swiping from me.

I think I'm getting it.
We water down the drinks

-and shake down
the waitresses.
-Nice.

Last but most
important thing.

Be good to Muldoon.

Who's Muldoon?

Military police. Also
my public relations man.

Oh, yeah. The man in
the gray flannel fatigues.

Muldoon tells the army
Rosie is strictly legit.

For that I give him
free booze.

Pour it in a coffee cup.

He likes to think
he's fooling people.

You bribe
a military policeman?

What bribe?
Free enterprise.

He drinks free,
I keep my enterprise.

-Ah.
-Uh-huh.

What do you mean
they can't find it?

Without that file,

he doesn't stand
a snowball's chance, Herb.

We can't let 'em
do this to the padre.

His head is so high
in the clouds,

he starts his prayers
with "As long as I'm
in the neighborhood."

You bet your bazookas
I'm worried.

That promotion board's
already sittin'.

Now you get on that Teletype

and keep after
those Pentagon pantywaists

till the cows come home.

Fine, fine. Yeah,
you do that, Herbie.

Man graduated
312th out of 320,

and he says he's
gonna do his best.

Hunnicutt,
why didn't you tell me

we only had two bottles
of scotch left?

Margaret, didn't you pay
any attention to Rosie?

As long as the plumbing
holds out,

we got plenty of scotch.

Hey, good-looking.
What time do you get off?

You G.I.s are all alike.

Just 'cause I work in a bar

and have a body
that stops traffic,

you think I'm some kind
of cheap one-night stand.

Okay, but just
this one night.

Knock it off.
We've got a problem.

What? What?

Pierce, Suni
is trying to stiff us

for the 30% of the tips.

She now owes us
close to $1.26.

Wow, for that kind of money,
I say we have her killed.

We've gotta be
fair to Rosie.

Now go and lean
on that waitress.

-Me, Noeël the Coward?
-Go.

-Uh, Suni.
-Yeah, Joe?

Uh, there's
this matter of 30%.

I'm sure it must've
been an oversight.

When-When you get a tip,

you have to give Rosie
a cut, remember?

Rosie. Money.

You give share tips.

Why am I suddenly talking
like some guy named Milton

who's lost in Barcelona?

The hell with it.
Nice babbling with you.

Okay. One dollar
and 26 cents.

She give you
an argument?

No. She knew it was either
fork over the dough

or wind up in
a cement kimono.

Five, 10, 15, 16.
You call this a profit?

Rosie,
we're doing our best.

How you people got to be
world power beats me.

This liver
smells terrible.

That's because
it's fish.

Then this fish
has liver trouble.

You! Nurse!

-Take this away.
-As you were, lieutenant.

Madam,
this is a hospital,

not the Uijeongbu Waldorf.

Good thing,
'cause the food
makes me sick.

Now, see here,
you're getting the
finest medical care

with Uncle Sam
picking up the tab.

Not to mention that we're
working double time to keep
your business afloat.

And you're not
very good at it, either.

Well, it's not from
lack of trying,

so you might start acting
a little more grateful,

and a lot less
persnickety.

Sir, telephone.
Colonel Hochburg
at "I" Corps.

Two hips and a hooray.

That's gotta be about
Mulcahy.

Madam, I'll leave you
to finish

your well-balanced
nutritious spread.

And just remember:

you can catch more flies
with honey than with vinegar.

Thanks, but I'm catching
all I need with this lunch.

-Get a corpsman quick!
-Corpsman! Corpsman!

If you people run my place
like you run your hospital,

I'm out of business.

-Come in.

-Evening, Padre.
-Oh.

Excuse the hour.
I saw your light.

Oh, that's perfectly
all right.

I'm just settling down
with the Good Book.

You know, I've been
hoisting my heinie

to get you that promotion.

Yes, and I've been meaning to
tell you how grateful I am.

I got half the Pentagon
writing you recommendations

and the other half
reading 'em.

I'm grateful to them too.

Well, between the writing
and the reading,

somehow
they lost your file.

It just never showed up
at the promotions board.

I don't think I follow you.

The captain's list came out,
and you weren't on it.

-Again?

I didn't want you to find out
off of some bulletin board.

I know how you feel, Padre.

With all due respect, sir,
this is the fourth time.

Why me?

You can't imagine
how many nerds I knew

at the chaplain school
who are now majors.

My own sister's about
to become Mother Superior.

I think maybe somebody
up there doesn't like me.

-Simmer down.
-I hope you understand, sir.

This isn't directed at you.

I'm angry with
the fools and dolts

and dodoes at the Pentagon

who-who have more points
on their heads

than the building
they work in.

I'm going for a walk.

I have had it with the Army
and their stupid promotions.

-Father. Excuse me, Father.
-What is it, Klinger?

Look, Father, we have
a problem in post-op.

Well, you've come
to the right man.

Francis Mulcahy, your
humble lieutenant priest.

It's the Greek and the Turk.

They've had another outbreak
of fist-and-mouth disease.

Oh, boy.
Will those two never learn
to behave like adults?

You could quiet
things down in there.

We Mediterraneans have
a lot of respect for holy men.

I'd be happy to. It's one
of my many thankless jobs.

Never too busy to raise
the spirits of others.

After all,
I've nothing else to do

like putting on
captain's bars.

Hey, hey!
Sorry to break this up,

but visiting hour is over.

-Just let me kill him.

It'll only take minute.

I just finished fixing his leg
from the last time.

I'm not gonna let you go
until the both of you
promise to make nice.

Okay, okay.
I no fight no more.

It's about time.

The war just called
complaining about the noise.

Wait! Wait!
Wait till you hear the bell.

Now it's worse. Hawkeye's
beating up two cripples!

What in the name of--

Hello, Father. Welcome
to the United Nations,

Middleweight Division.

See here. Have we forgotten
that we're all allies?

I am reasonable man.

Talk to Greek,
offspring of camel and goat.

Pig! Dog! Donkey!

We don't need a priest.
We need a veterinarian.

I think we've had
quite enough brawling

from you two hooligans.

I happen to be Chaplain here.

You are infidel.
I will not listen to you.

Leave before you get hurt.
This is a fight between mens.

Is that so? Well, don't let
this saintly demeanor fool you.

I happen to be
pretty handy with my dukes.

I could flatten the both of you
and not even work up a sweat.

So I suggest you remember
what it says in the Good Book:

Love thy neighbor
or I'll punch your lights out.

Got that? Huh!

Nothing like a man
with a good one-two prayer.

Klinger!

You rattled the rafters,
sir?

What is going on in post-op?

Is that the padre doing
all that caterwauling?

Yes, just a little sermon
to the Greek and the Turk

-from the Book of Threats.
-Damn.

I never
should've told him

that promotion was
a lead-pipe cinch.

He could have us
on the brink of a holy war.

It's not your fault,
compassionate leader.

You've done everything
but call the Pentagon
yourself.

You're absolutely right.

Get on that phone.
Get me the Pentagon.

The What-a-gone, sir?

The Pentagon.
Weird-looking building.

Four walls and a spare.
Monument to Murphy's Law.

Assuming I get through,

to whom does the colonel
wish to speak?

To whomever's home.

A shot,
and a beer.

That ought to wet
the old whistle.

Keep the change.

Ah, thank you
most kindly.

Now I can get that operation
for the wife.

Gentlemen,
ten years from now,

I shall shut myself
in the library,

pour myself a snifter
of cognac,

think back on the memory
of this evening,

and upchuck.

Spoken like
a true aristocrat.

Come on, Charles,
you came here to
serve your country.

Yo, porky.

-Get me another shot.
-Wha--

Did he call me porky?

I'm not sure.

Why don't you waddle
over and ask him?

Bumpkin.

Another little
thirst-quencher?

You must have
a hollow leg, chum.

I got a "Dear John"
letter from my girl.

Ah.

She dumped me
for some college guy.

You think some college guy
is better than me?

Which college?

Rah, rah.

She's gotta be crazy.

Have you by any chance read

what Freud has to say
on the subject of insanity?

Floyd who?

Not Floyd. Freud.

Sigmund Freud. The father
of psychoanalytic thought.

You're pretty smart
for a bartender, porky.

The name is Charles
Emerson Winchester III.

You can call me Major.

You know, you talk
like a college boy.

-Harvard, '43.
-Close enough.

-My parents made me go.
I hated it.

Easy. Charles, when a guy
says one more round,

he means a drink.

Why don't you wait
outside in the alley?

He gets off at midnight.

Stinkin' college boy.

Wait a minute.
Wait a minute. This way, sir.

I graduated summa cum laude.
Lettered in crew and polo.

Women dripping off me.
Rah, rah, rah.

I'll knock his stupid
beanie off.

Thank you, gentlemen.
I'll take it from here.

And we thought he was
too drunk to reason with.

-Hello, mate.
-Hello.

-Where's Rosie?
-She's laid up. Bad ribs.

-Bloody shame.
-Indeed.

Well, I'm Muldoon.

How nice for you.

How about my coffee?

One coffee.

Do I detect a trace
of the United Kingdom
in your accent?

-Australia.
-Oh.

What's this?

Coffee.

What's the big idea
of putting coffee
in my coffee cup?

What did you expect,
petrol?

I expect
scotch whiskey in it.

Oh. I feel the perfect fool.

I presume this is one of those
quaint Australian customs

like heaving boomerangs
at kangaroos?

Twenty-five cents, please.
We also accept quid and bob.

You Yanks,
always cracking jokes.

I fail to see the humor
in paying one's tab.

I don't pay, see?

Then you don't drink, see?

Do you know who I am?

Yes. A cheap poltroon
is who you are.

-You'll pay for this.
-Well, that's more
than I can say for you.

Now why don't you
just Australian crawl
on out of here?

You've made
a big mistake, Yank.

Huh. The Aborigines are
the civilized ones...

porky.

That's him. Lieutenant
Frances John Mulcahy.

Klinger, stop
standing at attention.

You're giving me
the willies.

But, sir,
that's the Pentagon.

I don't want them
to hear me slouch.

At ease, for cryin' out loud.
Yes-- Mulcahy.

If you could just walk that file
over to the promotions board,

it'd be a real
shot in the arm

for the spiritual
well-being of this unit.

Well, who in blazes
did you send it to?

The chief of chaplains?

Then switch me to him.
Thank you.

Klinger, you old camel-trader.
This is the actual Pentagon.

How the devil
did you get through?

Proverbial piece
of baklava, sir.

First I told them
I was General Imbrie,

and they told me
they'd do their best.

Then I told 'em I was
General Imbrie's girlfriend.

Next voice I heard
said, "Hello. Pentagon."

I don't know whether
to have you promoted
or court-martialed.

Hello. This is
Colonel Sherman Potter.

I wanna speak to the chief
of chaplains mucho pronto.

Oh, it's you, General.

I like a man who answers
his own phone.

I'm calling about
Lieutenant Frances Mulcahy.

You read the file.
Yes, he is outstanding.

I couldn't have said it
better myself.

Listen, if you could just
have one of your staff

walk that file over to--

What?
Who'd you send it to?

Well, do you think
he'd be in? Sure I'll wait.

Man answers his own phone.
Must be a Unitarian.

Attention. May I please
have your attention?

-I'd like to propose a toast.
-Uh-huh.

To a real hero

whose raw courage in the face
of hand-to-hand combat

was an inspiration to us all.

-Welcome back, Rosie.
-ALL: Welcome back.

A lady who really
belongs behind bars.

Madam, I think I speak for
my entire unit when I say

that it was a great day
for all of us

when you walked
out that post-op door.

Good to be back,
and you not
a bad bunch of Joes.

-Rosie never forget you
for what you've done.
-Aw, forget it.

By the way, who's paying
for these drinks?

Your gratitude
is overwhelming.

Now on to new business.

Padre, I know you're
familiar with the saying

Good things come
to he who waits.

I beg your pardon, sir?

We didn't bring you
here to tie one on

just 'cause Rosie's
back in the pink.

We have a better reason.
Pierce, the floor is yours.

It oughta be.
I spend enough time on it.

Father Mulcahy, we live
in a world of tradition.

And as everyone knows,
the military is full of it.

On this auspicious occasion,

tradition dictates
that I pass along to you

something of my very own.

Your captain's bars?

Very low mileage.
I hardly ever
captain in them.

Congratulations.
You made it, Captain.

But I-I thought
I wasn't on the list.

Well, I just made me
a phone call

with the help of this real
operator here.

It was nothing.
The only problem is

now I'm engaged
to General Imbrie.

All right, troops.
Ten-hut!

Thank you all.

I appreciate your support
and patience.

This experience has taught me
a valuable lesson.

The meek may
inherit the earth,

but it's the grumpy
who get promoted.

-Congratulations.
-Congratulations, Father.

When the two sisters'
car broke down,

I said, "Why don't you go
over to the fruit stand?

Don't nuns always
travel in pairs?"

Father, the only place you
should tell that joke

is in confession.

Perhaps the good father
is trying to get demoted

and excommunicated
at the same time.

All right, clear out.

This place is now
officially off-limits.

Well, if it isn't
Mr. Coffee Nerves.

I beg your pardon, sonny.

I am the commanding officer
here.

Across the road, Colonel,
but not here.

Oh.

Muldoon, are you nuts?

-I'm shutting you down, ducky.
-What for?

Military violation.

It's a dirty lie.
I'm military,

and I've never been
violated in here.

I don't know why I
keep coming back.

Come on, Muldoon.
We got a deal.

You should've
thought of that

before you put
Chauncey Uppercrust
behind the bar.

I get you for this,
Chauncey.

You've done quite enough
already.

I'll handle this.
Excuse me.

I happen to be
a newly ordained captain.

Have you ever heard
the one about the two nuns
and the fruit stand?