Col. Potter: Let's clear the air, Klinger, I guess we both realize you're no Radar.
Klinger (Hung over, slurred): So they tell me, sir.
Col. Potter: But, by the same token, Radar is no Klinger.
Klinger: I don't follow you, sir.
Col. Potter: Folks around here were pretty fond of Henry Blake when he ran this fort, weren't they?
Klinger: Well, sure! The Colonel was a top-notch kind of a guy.
Col. Potter: You bet he was. And I don't mind telling you my first few days in his shadow were a mite uneasy. No one was jumping for joy over me. I was no Henry Blake, never tried to be. That didn't make me any better or worse, just different. The point is, the folks here gave me the time to take this job and make it Sherman Potter's. I guess I forgot that when you took over for Radar. What I'm trying to say is, you need the time to make this job Max Klinger's. So, just do it! And, if you need some help, if you've got a question, just knock on my door. Is that clear, Max?
Klinger: Crystal clear, sir.
Col. Potter: All right, (they stand up) from now on, Radar's office is closed, Klinger's is open.
(Klinger salutes, then collapses back into the chair in an inebriated state)
Col. Potter: OK, we'll open tomorrow.