(Charles Winchester is eating a bowl of mashed potatoes in the mess tent. Colonel Potter comes over with a tray of food and joins him.)
Potter: Ah, mashed potatoes! Now, there's a meal you can sink your teeth into.
(Charles' tooth is still clearly bothering him. He begins to whimper.)
Potter: Winchester, are you in excruciating pain or are you just being yourself?
Winchester: I-uh-I merely slept wrong, sir. It's my jaw.
Potter: If you don't get that chopper checked, it'll abscess and I'll be out one surgeon.
Winchester: Sir, I swear to you, there is absolutely nothing wrong!
Potter: You're lying through what's left of your teeth!
Winchester: I am not!
Potter: (calmly) In that case, I owe you an apology.
Winchester: I accept.
Potter: Back where I come from, when one man wrongly accuses another, he is expected to atone for it and seeing as how the cook slipped his C. O. a preview of Sunday's dessert, the least I can do is pass it on to you.
(Potter shoves a bowl of ice cream in front of Winchester's face. Winchester is horrified.)
Potter: You like ice cream, Winchester?
Winchetser: (stammering) Oh, gee, uh---no, sir. No, I couldn't.
Potter: Why not?
Winchester: Because my mother never let me have desert until I finished all my vegetables.
Potter: Well, well, seeing as I outrank Mommy, eat this!
(Potter places the bowl of ice cream on Winchester's tray.)
Winchester: I'd love to! Oh, look! It's strawberries! It gives me hives.
Potter: We'll top it off with some calamine lotion. Now, start shoveling.
Winchester: But Colonel, I---
Potter: PRESENT SPOON!
(Realizing there is no use in arguing, Winchester grudgingly takes his spoon and eats a small piece of the ice cream. Potter looks on.)
Winchester: Mmmm! Satisfied?
Potter: (surprised) Well, I'll be darned.
Winchester: If you'll excuse me, Colonel. I think I've had enough. Good afternoon, sir.
(Winchester calmly walks out of the mess tent.)
Potter: I guess that molar's on the mend.
(With that, Winchester lets out a painful scream.)