A/N: I know I said I was taking a break from the site because we're getting ready for our move, but I had some time pop up between all the packing and the errands, and came up with something funny that I thought you might like. I decided to start a little collection, so if I get a chance to add some more oneshots during our move, I'll tack them on here. Hope you like this first one, it was inspired by a picture that Deana sent me. (And if you're curious about the picture, just send me or Deana a PM.)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Hogan's Heroes characters. No copyright infringement is implied.

Eau de Stalag 13

"C'mon, Andrew, it's your bloomin' turn!" Newkirk tapped the deck of cards impatiently.

"I know, I know," Carter replied, "Don't rush me, I'm thinking."

Newkirk rolled his eyes. "Blimey, we'll be 'ere all day, then!" he snorted in exasperation.

Suddenly, a terrible smell came wafting over from the far end of the table. It hit Newkirk first, and he crinkled his nose in disgust. "Cor! Oh, that's bloody awful!" he exclaimed, and started waving his hand in front of his face.

"Well, don't wave it over here!" Carter said as he caught a whiff of the offensive odor. He brought up his hand and attempted to disperse it, as well. "Geez, who did that, anyway?" He looked toward the end of the table, and saw Colonel Hogan sitting there, trying unsuccessfully to hide the guilty look on his face.

Newkirk saw him, too. "Blimey, Colonel, what are you tryin' to do, kill us?"

Hogan looked offended. "Hey, it's not my fault my, uh, system doesn't handle this prison food very well."

"What about prison food?" LeBeau asked as he walked up to join them; having finished putting the clean dishes away. Just as he reached the table, a fresh wave of nasty-smelling gas rolled through, causing him to stop in his tracks. "Sacre chat!" he shouted, making a face. Then he grabbed the front of his sweater and pulled the collar up over his nose. "Mon Colonel, that's terrible!"

Newkirk and Carter were starting to look ill by now. "Bloody 'ell, sir, that was worse than the last one!"

Carter coughed a few times; then covered his nose with his hands. "Sorry, Colonel, but I have to agree with Newkirk," he uttered.

Hogan's cheeks had a distinctive red tinge forming on them. "I told you, I can't help it. It's the food."

"But, Colonel," LeBeau mumbled through the collar of his sweater, "I made dinner last night."

"That's right, you did!" Newkirk exclaimed, glancing over at the Frenchman, "You made that fish stew…no wonder the colonel's 'avin' trouble!"

"That's not fair, Newkirk, everyone else ate it, too!" LeBeau huffed.

"Not me, Louis," Newkirk answered, "I can't stand the stuff!"

LeBeau and Newkirk both glanced at Carter, who shook his head. "Sorry, LeBeau, I didn't have any, either. I was down in the lab last night, working on some fuses, remember? Kinch brought me a sandwich later."

Just then the trapdoor to the tunnel opened, and Kinch climbed out. He noticed Hogan and the rest of the men at the table, and started walking over. "Message from the Underground, Colonel, they want to know… Holy cats, what happened in here?" He asked, waving his hand in front of his nose as he reached the 'air' of contention.

"Too much ruddy fish stew," Newkirk replied, pointing to Hogan.

"All right you guys, quit it!" Hogan shot back, clearly becoming angry. "I'm not the only person to have this problem, you know. How many times have you guys had to sleep with the windows open out here, hmm?"

"That's true, sir, but…" LeBeau realized what he was about to say, and stopped.

Hogan frowned at him. "But, what?"

LeBeau lowered his collar, grimacing at the lingering smell. "Well, sir, it's just that, that…"

"What LeBeau's tryin' to say, sir," Newkirk cut in; then instantly regretted it when Hogan's glare turned in his direction, "What he's sayin, sir –no offense intended, mind you – is that, well, yours are the worst in the barracks."

Hogan's eyebrows shot up with surprise. "What? You think mine are the worst?" He glanced around to each of his men, who were all nodding slightly.

Another invisible cloud of foul odor suddenly wafted across the table, and everyone groaned.

LeBeau's eyes started watering and he quickly covered his nose with his collar again. "Oh, mon Colonel, please…have pity on us!"

"Hey, that wasn't me this time!" Hogan stated irritably. Then he grabbed the side of his jacket and pulled it over his nose. "Who did that?" he demanded.

"Not me," Newkirk answered, tugging his hat off and holding it against his nose. He glanced at Carter, who looked back with surprise.

"It wasn't me!" Carter mumbled through his hands. Everyone looked at LeBeau.

"Don't look at me!" LeBeau replied, defensively.

All eyes turned to Kinch. "Yeah, uh, sorry about that," the radioman said, "I had seconds of that fish stew last night."

"I knew it!" Newkirk looked at LeBeau, accusingly, "It was your cookin', what caused this!"

"I had some, too, you know!" LeBeau retorted, "And I'm not having any trouble!"

"That's because you eat that ruddy swill all the time…you're bloody immune to it!" Newkirk shot back.

"Okay, okay, enough, already!" Hogan hollered. "Look, you know we're confined to the barracks today. If it's bothering you that much, why don't you go down to the tunnels for a while? Kinch can stay here and fill me in on the message from the Underground."

"Thank you, Colonel," Newkirk replied with relief as he got up and headed for the false-bottom bunk. Carter and LeBeau were right behind him, and as soon as the trapdoor opened, all three men scrambled below.

"Uh, that might not have been such a good idea," Kinch said as he watched the last man disappear from sight.

"Why not?" Hogan asked.

"Well, sir, I was sitting down there for a while, you know, by myself…"

Just as the trapdoor closed, Hogan and Kinch heard a collective groan rise up from below. Hogan looked at Kinch, a grin forming on his face. "Should we tell them it wasn't the fish stew?"

"Better not, sir," Kinch replied, breaking into a smile, "If they find out it was that can of beans we had earlier, we'll never get Louis to stop making it."

The End