LOL on the other caps. I'm hoping to explore more of your work when I am down in the land of fast internetz next week visiting my mom. We have slow dial-up.
Worse Than Cake
Daniel swore that the drink they were serving on -8573 was not alcoholic and it wasn't. It was pleasant, and fruity, and the natives were pleasant and friendly, and it all seemed like a good thing until the briefing afterwards.
If Daniel was a little more voluble and enthusiastic about the scholarly opportunities that a Polynesian/South Asian/Buddist fusion presented, and the possibility that the natives' language had fused to form a new and unique language family, no one really thought it strange. As Jack put it later, "Daniel's always going on about these things. He just seemed extra-Daniel-y."
It did strike everyone as a little odd that Teal'c seemed so moved by the presentation, however. Still, Teal'c being somewhat of a cypher was nothing new and they moved on.
When Captain Carter found the mathematics involved in calculating the lunar orbits of the planet's two satellites inexplicably humorous, and could not control her giggles, General Hammond began to become somewhat alarmed.
He exchanged a glance with his Second-in-Command, hoping for an explanation or shared concern, but no help was to be had there. Jack seemed to be muttering things to himself, and waving his hands about.
"Jack? Care to share?"
The Colonel's face broke out into a broad grin, the kind that Hammond, or anyone else on the base, had vary rarely seen. It was breathtaking, and a little heart-breaking in its rarity.
Then he broke out into song.
"Little Bunny Foo-Foo hoppin' through the forest, scoopin' up the field mice, and boppin' 'em on the head!" sang the Colonel, his voice rough, but more-or-less on key, hands miming along with the song.
Hammond stared in alarmed fascination, as Jack moved on to a spoken falsetto chorus about a fairy godmother, and Dr. Jackson and Captain Carter joined in. By the next round Teal'c, never a slow learner, was booming along with the rest, and so was the Lieutenant seated at the small desk by the stairway. The General had always known that where Colonel O'Neill led, others followed, but seldom had he seen such a clear and concrete demonstration of the phenomenon.
Intuiting that nothing more could be done, nor could order and discipline be restored until the song came to its natural conclusion, the General, who had learned a variant with Little Rabbit Foo-Foo from Kayla when she was in daycamp the previous summer, shrugged his shoulders, and decided to join them until the opportunity to beat them arose. He added his baritone to the group.
When Janet Fraiser barrelled into the room, saying without preamble, "General, I've noticed some abnormalities in SG-1's bloodwork and-", she soon trailed off into open-mouthed and gawking silence, as everyone else in the room thundered in unison, "HARE TODAY, GOON TOMORROW!!!", with apparent glee.
The drink had not been alcoholic, but it was mildly hallucinogenic, and don't you believe that Jack ever let Daniel forget it.
no subject
Daniel swore that the drink they were serving on -8573 was not alcoholic and it wasn't. It was pleasant, and fruity, and the natives were pleasant and friendly, and it all seemed like a good thing until the briefing afterwards.
If Daniel was a little more voluble and enthusiastic about the scholarly opportunities that a Polynesian/South Asian/Buddist fusion presented, and the possibility that the natives' language had fused to form a new and unique language family, no one really thought it strange. As Jack put it later, "Daniel's always going on about these things. He just seemed extra-Daniel-y."
It did strike everyone as a little odd that Teal'c seemed so moved by the presentation, however. Still, Teal'c being somewhat of a cypher was nothing new and they moved on.
When Captain Carter found the mathematics involved in calculating the lunar orbits of the planet's two satellites inexplicably humorous, and could not control her giggles, General Hammond began to become somewhat alarmed.
He exchanged a glance with his Second-in-Command, hoping for an explanation or shared concern, but no help was to be had there. Jack seemed to be muttering things to himself, and waving his hands about.
"Jack? Care to share?"
The Colonel's face broke out into a broad grin, the kind that Hammond, or anyone else on the base, had vary rarely seen. It was breathtaking, and a little heart-breaking in its rarity.
Then he broke out into song.
"Little Bunny Foo-Foo hoppin' through the forest, scoopin' up the field mice, and boppin' 'em on the head!" sang the Colonel, his voice rough, but more-or-less on key, hands miming along with the song.
Hammond stared in alarmed fascination, as Jack moved on to a spoken falsetto chorus about a fairy godmother, and Dr. Jackson and Captain Carter joined in. By the next round Teal'c, never a slow learner, was booming along with the rest, and so was the Lieutenant seated at the small desk by the stairway. The General had always known that where Colonel O'Neill led, others followed, but seldom had he seen such a clear and concrete demonstration of the phenomenon.
Intuiting that nothing more could be done, nor could order and discipline be restored until the song came to its natural conclusion, the General, who had learned a variant with Little Rabbit Foo-Foo from Kayla when she was in daycamp the previous summer, shrugged his shoulders, and decided to join them until the opportunity to beat them arose. He added his baritone to the group.
When Janet Fraiser barrelled into the room, saying without preamble, "General, I've noticed some abnormalities in SG-1's bloodwork and-", she soon trailed off into open-mouthed and gawking silence, as everyone else in the room thundered in unison, "HARE TODAY, GOON TOMORROW!!!", with apparent glee.
The drink had not been alcoholic, but it was mildly hallucinogenic, and don't you believe that Jack ever let Daniel forget it.