Margaret: (irritated) Klinger, where is my footlocker?
Klinger: I suppose in your tent.
Margaret: I have just come from my tent. What I have in there can no longer be called a footlocker because you can not call something a locker if it doesn't lock! What I have in there is a foot-opener, and some disgusting deviant in this camp has just done that; opened it! Violated my personal, private, intimate belongings!
Klinger: The major wouldn't be imagining things, would she?
Margaret: Klinger, I know violating when I see it. Now I requested a new footlocker. I want to know why I haven't got it yet.
Klinger: (handing her a piece of paper) They turned ya down.
Margaret: Turned me down?!
Klinger: Major, I told you it was a long shot. ICORPs says they'll only replace a footlocker if it's damaged in combat.
Margaret: (furious) That's ridiculous! This is a hospital unit! What kind of combat do we see here?
Klinger: Well, I don't make the rules. I just live by 'em. It's the good old American sense of fair play.
Margaret: Don't give me that garbage, you clown! What am I supposed to do with my personal belongings?
Klinger: I got a hope chest I'm not using anymore.
Margaret: How would you like to find yourself stuffed inside it?