BJ and Hawkeye had just returned from the Post-Op ward. They were going to get Frank for his shift.

"Hmm... Hello? Frank? Ferret Face? I don't think he's here, Hawkeye." Observed BJ.

"How'd you figure that, Sherlock?" retorted Hawkeye. "Martini?" he offered BJ a freshly made martini from the still.

Suddenly, the door blew open, and a large figure stood in the doorway.

"Ahh! The abominable snowman!" yelped BJ, while Hawkeye laughed hysterically.

"Frank! Close the door! You're letting in the cold air!" yelled Hawkeye, wiping tears of mirth (or gin?) from his eyes. When Frank didn't move, BJ grabbed him, and pulled him into the tent. Frank scrambled to his feet and pulled out his rifle.

"Whoa! Frank! Let's not get touchy, now... hey!" Hawkeye gasped as Frank shot BJ. BJ collapsed to the floor, bleeding from a semi-serious shoulder wound.

"Frank! You could've killed me!" hollered BJ as Hawkeye helped him to his feet. Frank stood silent. "What are you doing with that gun, anyway?" continued BJ angrily

"You..." muttered Frank under his breath.

"What, Frank?" asked Hawkeye, who was becoming more enraged by the second.

"YOU..." repeated Frank loudly, "...ARE NEVER GOING TO MAKE ME SICK AGAIN!!!" he held up the rifle, and shot Hawkeye's martini glass off the table. It shattered, and gin splattered everywhere. Hawkeye was at a loss for words. What could you say at a time like this?

Frank, thinking that he had hit Hawkeye, ran out of the Swamp, cackling.

Outside, the storm raged on.


Potter was glad that the officers' latrine was heated. As he headed back to his quarters, a stars and stripes magazine under one arm, he saw a dark shape running through the snow. The colonel lightly touched his pistol, suddenly glad that he had left it in his robe.

He quietly followed the figure into Klinger's tent. Potter was in luck, the figure, who was clad in a large winter coat, didn't notice as he slipped behind a row of the Klinger Collection.

The person started ransacking the corporal's tent. "Nerts!" hollered the person, and Potter placed the voice immediately.

"Major Burns!" he gasped, a little too loudly. Frank pushed aside Klinger's Cleopatra outfit and glared down at the colonel.

"Hello, Colonel Potter..." greeted Frank coldly, "I see we've been spying. Don't you know that it's not nice to spy on people?" Potter whipped out his pistol and pulled the trigger. The bullet tore a chunk of Frank's coat, but, otherwise, missed the major completely. Frank knocked Potter's gun from his hands and raised his own.

"Looks like you're going to be a casualty, colonel..." smiled Frank.

The storm's rage was building.


Although Radar had unusually good hearing, the storm covered the sounds of gunfire, and he didn't notice Frank until the major entered his office.

"Hello, corporal." Frank said coldly. Radar turned around quickly.

"Major! You scared me!" Radar tried not to sound panicky.

"I'm going to be scaring you a whole lot more in just a minute!" Frank looked at Radar, and read terror in his eyes.

"You killed Stinky, didn't you?" asked Radar, his voice quivering loudly with accusation. Frank just smiled wryly. "Well?!" yelled Radar, "Aren't you going to answer me?"

"Yes, I killed the skunk. And now, I'm going to kill you." Frank pulled the trigger. There was a sharp click, and nothing happened.

Seizing his chance, Radar leaped at the major, and managed to grab his arm. Doing the only thing he could, Radar twisted it.

Frank screamed and shoved Radar off. Radar attacked again, this time with a pencil. He tried to stab Frank with it, but Frank kicked him in the stomach, and then sent Radar flying across the room. Radar hit a filing cabinet and slumped to the ground. Frank pulled out his backup rifle, and gave the wheezing corporal a nasty grin.

"You know what's sad? That is exactly how that smelly creature looked when I killed it." Frank giggled and took careful aim. He fired.

The wind howled loudly.


Klinger was returning from a negotiation with the nurses. He was fuming.

"I can't believe that they won't take 3 pairs of nylons and a wedding gown for a lousy mink lined coat!" he whined, and shivered. "I could use that thing right about now!"

Upon entering his tent, Klinger gasped. "What a mess!" he exclaimed. Klinger was even more startled when he saw the colonel crawling out from underneath his ripped blue chiffon. "Colonel Potter! Ohmigosh! What in the...?"

"Major Burns has gone cuckoo, that's what! We've got to stop him!" interrupted Potter.

"I always thought he deserved a section 8!" exclaimed Klinger.

"Klinger, this is no time to be witty! Burns may have attacked someone besides me!" Potter slowly got to his feet.

"He attacked you?!" Klinger's face turned white. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I played dead and he just ran out."

Klinger gasped. "What if he got major Houlihan?" he asked.

"Let's check on her first." suggested Potter.


When Klinger and colonel Potter arrived at the VIP tent, they were stunned. Margaret was sitting on her cot, and the sheets on it were soaked with blood. Margaret had had enough sense to tie a belt above her wound to slow the bleeding.

"Major! What happened?" asked Klinger.

"Frank shot me! That nincompoop! When I get my hands on him..." Margaret shivered with rage.

Colonel Potter interrupted Margaret's tirade, "Klinger, get the major to OR, and wait there for me. I'm going to check on the Swamp's inhabitants."


Hawkeye was helping BJ to the OR, when colonel Potter literally ran into them.

"Frank shot BJ!" Hawkeye told the CO.

"I got shot by Frank!" agreed BJ. The colonel and the two captains walked through the snow to the OR.

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