Goodbye, Farewell, and Good Eats
Alton Brown fan fiction crossover index
EXT. 4077 MASH COMPOUND – LATE AFTERNOON
The camp is different now.
Not quieter. Not safer. But steadier.
Long tables sit outside the mess tent. Dishes from the week return one last time: chicken and dumplings, steak au poivre, Tex-Mex platters, gumbo, Hungarian sausages, cheesesteaks wrapped in paper. No speeches. Just eating.
Two MPs stand watch beside the truck, same as always.
Colonel Potter sips coffee, surveying the scene with practiced calm. He stops near Alton Brown.
POTTER Funny thing about that truck.
ALTON Sir?
POTTER When it arrived, it had a lot of food... but it also had one special crate in it. Nailed shut. Stenciled neat as could be.
Potter pauses.
POTTER “IOWA.”
Alton nods. Nothing more.
The distant thump of rotor blades begins — faint, then building.
EXT. TRUCK – MOMENTS LATER
The MPs unlatch the tailgate. The doors swing open.
The truck is nearly empty, except for two things.
A wooden crate sits centered on the floor, lid pried open. Inside: nothing but a folded piece of paper.
Beside it, tucked neatly against the wall of the truck—
A case of Grape Nehi. Unopened.
Potter steps forward, picks it up, and reads silently.
He smiles — not surprised.
POTTER Well… that explains the paperwork.
He folds the note and tucks it into his robe pocket without sharing it.
EXT. COMPOUND ROAD – DUSK
Alton climbs into a jeep. No announcement. No curtain call.
(Father Mulcahy gives a small nod. Sidney Freedman offers a quiet salute. Klinger waves once, holding a sausage link. And then the grateful silence is broken...)
PA SYSTEM ANNOUNCER: Attention, all personnel... the wounded you've all been waiting for has finally arrived in person... report to the Big Top immediately; the circus is about to begin.
The camp jumps into action and no one is left to wave goodbye to Alton, so he and the driver silently pull away.
FADE OUT.
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