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He meant the 3rensho - hence the fact he said Squoocher! Thought Squoocher was an exclamation of desire at first but it's actually Squoocher's name. Squoocher.

It's more than just a name, my friend. Squoocher was the tag of my platoon commander in Nam (i'm a yank called Hank: Hank the Yank to my good ol' boys back in Missouri). In Vietnam we had a word for guys like you, Machineisbored, Stuttering Stus... they'd copped so much flak from Charlie they didn't know their tush from their tailpipe, and they'd repeat over 'n' over, i said, repeat darn near everything they said over 'n' over. It was a sorry ass sight... Tell me, Machineisbored, I don't know what sort of a pie you eat with your beans, son, and frankly its non of my freakin business, but I'd wager my house you chew that pie til it's as mushy as a Chinaman's breakfast. Your generation didn't grow up with Charlie humping its leg. You never ate Charlie, drank Charlie, slept with Charlie. Damn it, you never wet your bed and screamed the air blue for your freakin momma aged 22 because of Charlie. Look me in the eye and tell me you've haluncinated Ali Baba through the updraft of a Huey chopper and I'll hold a mirror to your face and show you a filthy liar. So you like a comfy saddle. A comfy saddle is a picnic, son, a a stroll in the sunshine compared to Nam. We had men lose fingers, and get lost in the middle of the night and come back bitten to hell from mosquitos the size of roaches. They were good men, Machineisbored. Good men. They didn't deserve to be out there, being nunchucked in the pips in the withering heat of the filthy jungle. None of us did. Your comfy saddle will wear thin with time. But Squoocher Mulligans going to grow old never being able to press the tip of his left little finger into his baby daughter's face and feel the warmth of her soft smile. Think of that as you swallow that soft runny pie. I hope you choke.
I apologise, Nam brings back terrible terrible memories.