It's no contest: neither one of you. You guys don't even make the first cut. I'm trying to tell my uncle what kind of a place I work in: doctors, nurses saving lives. Well, I got a commanding officer who dresses me up in his clothes and sits me on a horse named Sophie so he can paint his own picture. There's a priest writing war ditties, and a snooty Major who pays me twenty bucks to follow him out in the woods and watch him blow up a pigeon with a landmine. And if that doesn't do it for ya, I got a head nurse who shoots unarmed luggage. All you two guys do is walk around all day telling jokes. What the hell's so funny about that? [returns to writing his letter] Ya see, Unc? It's no wonder I never got a Section Eight; there's nothing special about me. Everybody here is crazy.