DON'T LET THE WORMHOLE HIT YOU
Jonas' beady, ratlike little eyes narrowed in anger as he watched the Airman unceremoniously dump his collection of half-eaten fruit, toosmall tee-shirts, and back issues of "The Weather Channel Monthly" in his new office.
"Hey, this can't be right," he said in a self-pitying whine. His dismay increased as surveyed the dismal, cramped space with its dark walls, scarred linoleum floor; lit only by a flickering fluorescent bulb.
"You can't do this to me. I'm IMPORTANT," he said peevishly. "It isn't fair."
The Airman shrugged, ignoring Jonas' petulant complaints. And the door to the room fell shut.
Being alone in the near-dark gave Jonas time for deep contemplation. In this moist, dank climate he could, perhaps, hold his breath for over half an hour.
After three hours of constant lung-ballooning he stopped. It just wasn't the same without his fish - Daniel's fish - around to time him.
Delusion and oxygen deprivation going hand-in-hand, or so he'd read. Breaking his slow, descent into madness - or maybe quickening the pace - a voice spoke from the darkest recess of the room. Muffled, the sound emanating from an ancient locker hidden in the corner. Jonas cautiously advanced towards it, this was Sci Fi, he was important and not to mention impervious to radiation and common sense, nothing could harm him in THIS universe.
The locker rocked from side to side. Obviously some THING or some ONE was trapped inside as the comic book think bubble which appeared above Jonas' head indicated. As it rattled noisily on its anchoring it was only sensible to open it and at least put his Brilliant Mind (TM) to rest.
Jonas unhooked the latch - the door flying open on it's hinges with such force it tore the latch clean away in his hand. The locker's contents tumbled in a tightly bound blur of faux-leather and latex with a loud yelp at his feet.
"I am Anise. I am Tok'ra," said the bundle offended at being locked in a closet for two seasons.
Jonas had heard about her. To find her now kneeling at his feet - with her reputation, he wasn't particularly surprised. After all, thought The Disaster That Is Jonas, I AM a hunk, A fresh new face. This Tok'ra Barbie should be kneeling at my feet.
His nose wrinkled. "What is that foul stench?"
Anise frowned. "Sometime after I was forced into this locker, they added The Red Herring."
"Red Herring?"
"That is correct." Anise held up the Red Herring, rather limp now. On one side was written Jack, and on the other, Sam. "Someone had made an error."
"An error? The Powers That Be?"
"Yes. I was to be the new love interest--"
"No, I was the new love interest, the Hunk they brought in to replace the Wonder That Is Daniel."
"I was to be the... Replace Daniel?"
"Yes. He threw a hissy fit and ran off into the sunset, pouting because Jack loved Sam and something called Jelly ate his Tuna Sandwich. Plus, I'd heard the wallpaper paste was beginning to itch."
"But..." Anise was confuse. "Don't they know that Daniel can't be replaced?"
Jonas did a double take. "What do you mean 'Daniel can't be replaced'? I am his replacement and if I do say so myself, I'm fantastic. Why, no one else can hold their breath and long as me, and no one else has McDonald's toys and, and, and no one else can read really, really fast. I'm the perfect replacement for Daniel. No one even missed him! His fish..er, I mean my fish even told me they don't miss him!!"
Anise continued to look confused and absent mindedly dropped the red herring. She took a deep breath and Jonas' gaze was automatically sucked into the gravitational pull of her chest.
"The fish? When did aquatic animals gain the ability to communicate in speech?", she asked.
"Well, well," Jonas floundered. "Well, I don't know! Maybe it's because I can hold my breath for a really, really long time and they think I'm one of them. And you can't prove they didn't so there! I am better than old Daniel ever was!" He stuck his tongue out at the alien at his feet.
Suddenly, a knock came at the door...
Jonas opened the door. It was Jack.
"Oh, you did miss me!! See, I knew I was important!"
Jonas threw himself into Jack's arms. At least he started to. Jack, fortunately, moved quickly to one side, and Jonas fell forward. Which would have hurt any normal person, but being the super-breathholding, Brilliant Mind (TM) with the power to see into the future (as long as it was to save his own ass) he quickly turned as he fell and fell on, well, his ass.
"Miss who? Oh... no. Actually, I just came in to get Anise."
Jonas' jaw dropped. So did Anise's. Well, it would have, but her chest got in the way.
"Colonel O'Neill? Have you perhaps reconsidered my offer?"
Jack's eyebrows shot up in shock and fear at the thought.
"No. But we figured that even if your character was a seven-of-nine pain in the ass, even you don't deserve to be locked in a room with Jonas here."
Jonas squeaked (as most rats are prone to do).
"What about me?"
At that moment, a second, previously unseen locker began to rock violently. Seizing the excuse to end his conversation with Jonas, Jack pulled out his infamous sidearm and shot the lock off. A man stepped out. He was tall, handsome, with light brown hair, and a roguish twinkle in his eye.
"Well, hello there," Anise purred, her chest heaving as her eyes roamed up and down his body.
"Aris Boch!" Jack exclaimed. "What happened to you? We thought the goa'uld had gotten you."
"Nah," Aris said. "I've been stuck in that closet since Season three."
"Why, for crying out loud?" Jack asked.
"Beats me. You'd think that a good-looking, charming, POPULAR guest star like me would become a recurring character or at least get a second episode. But no, after one memorable appearance I get sent to oblivion while annoying duds like Marty, Sarah/Osiris and Cadet Haley get multiple eps."
"Yeah, well, it all depends on who created you," Jack said.
"So, you're Aris Boch," Jonas said, his trademark 'serial killer' smile at full teeth. "Seeing that I'm such an important member of the SGC, and I'm so marvelously talented, how much would I be worth to the goa'uld?"
Aris Boch gazed at Jonas for a moment. Taking in the puffy face, receding hairline, and general aura of weaselness, he said, "oh, I think you'd fetch about, well, nothing."
"What!" Jonas screeched in outrage. "You said Jackson was worth a day's rations! And I can hold my breath a LOT longer than he can."
"Enough about you, fishboy, let's talk about me," Anise said, sidling up to Aris Boch.
She likes him. Danny and I are safe. Sweet! Jack thought, practically fainting from relief.
Suddenly, a staff weapon blast blew apart Jonas' lava lamp. His complimentary Weather Channel wall maps and umbrella were coated in the hot, viscous fluid. He turned angrily to see who would do such a thing to his precious lava lamp, then stopped short, paling noticeably.
"Oh, hey, Teal'c!" Jack said brightly as the Jaffa warrior made his way into the Jonas' new office. Jack examined the shattered remnants of the lava lamp, then glanced back at the big man. "Somethin' buggin' ya there, buddy?"
"Indeed." Teal'c snarled, bringing his staff vertical. He glowered momentarily at Jonas, who urinated then bravely dived behind his desk.
Aris Boch looked at O'Neill. "You chose him as your fourth?" he asked, jabbing a thumb backwards at the desk. "What the hell are you guys smoking here?"
O'Neill just sneered, "Hey, contrary to popular belief, it was NOT my idea."
The others watched as Teal'c cast his eyes around the room in search of something. Then spying the object he sought--a Pier One Import sundial candleholder sticking out of one of Jonas' office moving boxes--he strode over to it and snatched it from the box. Making his way around the desk, he towered over the man cowering behind it.
"Thievery may be an acceptable practice on your planet, but it is not on Chulak, nor is it on this world. Next time, it shall be your fruit basket." With that, the Jaffa, staff weapon and candleholder in hand, stomped purposefully out of the room.
Anise watched the Jaffa leave the room and sighed, her breasts aglow with arousal.
Jack peeked his head around the desk and grimaced, "Uh, Jonas. We really gotta talk about those Depends thingies, guy. This is getting outa hand."
Jonas squeaked something unintelligible that no one else in the room could make out, so they just ignored him.
Just then General George Hammond strode into the room, smiled at Jack, ignored Aris Boch, grimaced at Anise and sneered at Jonas, who promptly ducked under his desk.
Strangely, the General was carrying a pair of shoes.
"Ahh, Jonas. Just the person."
Jonas slowly peeked up from behind his desk, then manfully, masterfully and bravely rose from his cowardly position to grin inanely at the General. Of course he was "just the person". He was always just the person, and it was about time that everyone realized that.
"General! What can I do for you?"
Hammond, wishing that he was wearing Jack's famous shades, kept Jonas at arms' length by holding out the shoes to him.
"Well, with Doctor Jackson coming back, but no-one knowing exactly how he's going to return to us, I thought it might be prudent to have a wardrobe of clothes available for him. The cream trousers and sweater are at the dry-cleaners, but seeing as certain people get rather... excited... at the sight of his toes..."
Anise sighed, her breasts expanding alarmingly. Aris Boch grinned, remembering his last meeting with Daniel. Jack fingered his side-arm.
"... I thought it would be prudent to have a pair of shoes ready, too. You have read up on How to Shine Shoes Until you Can See Your Face in Them, haven't you?"
At that moment, the klaxon sounded. "Unauthorized Wormhole," The Chevron Guy cried. They all stampeded towards the gateroom. Lying on the floor was a very real, very solid, and very naked Daniel Jackson. Displaying the true leadership, General Hammond merely looked at Daniel and said, "I don't care where you've descended from, Dr. Jackson, you're out of uniform".
Jack muttered something about it getting warm, while Sam and Janet fogged up the glass in the viewing area.
"So what happens now?" Jonas whined unattractively.
"Seeing that we don't need you anymore, we'll send you to an appropriate destination," Hammond said. "Chevron Guy, dial up the address for 'The Planet of the Not-Monkeys'," he said as the assembled crowd cheered and applauded.
"Teal'c, we're buddies, save me," Jonas pleaded.
"JonasQuinn, as a token of my esteem, I will do this," Teal'c said, then proceeded to give Jonas an atomic wedgie.
The wormhole engaged; the last thing Jonas heard before being pitched headfirst into a large pile of Miggsy's dung was a chorus of "Don't Let The Wormhole Hit You On The Ass On Your Way Out".
The End.
Jonas' beady, ratlike little eyes narrowed in anger as he watched the Airman unceremoniously dump his collection of half-eaten fruit, toosmall tee-shirts, and back issues of "The Weather Channel Monthly" in his new office.
"Hey, this can't be right," he said in a self-pitying whine. His dismay increased as surveyed the dismal, cramped space with its dark walls, scarred linoleum floor; lit only by a flickering fluorescent bulb.
"You can't do this to me. I'm IMPORTANT," he said peevishly. "It isn't fair."
The Airman shrugged, ignoring Jonas' petulant complaints. And the door to the room fell shut.
Being alone in the near-dark gave Jonas time for deep contemplation. In this moist, dank climate he could, perhaps, hold his breath for over half an hour.
After three hours of constant lung-ballooning he stopped. It just wasn't the same without his fish - Daniel's fish - around to time him.
Delusion and oxygen deprivation going hand-in-hand, or so he'd read. Breaking his slow, descent into madness - or maybe quickening the pace - a voice spoke from the darkest recess of the room. Muffled, the sound emanating from an ancient locker hidden in the corner. Jonas cautiously advanced towards it, this was Sci Fi, he was important and not to mention impervious to radiation and common sense, nothing could harm him in THIS universe.
The locker rocked from side to side. Obviously some THING or some ONE was trapped inside as the comic book think bubble which appeared above Jonas' head indicated. As it rattled noisily on its anchoring it was only sensible to open it and at least put his Brilliant Mind (TM) to rest.
Jonas unhooked the latch - the door flying open on it's hinges with such force it tore the latch clean away in his hand. The locker's contents tumbled in a tightly bound blur of faux-leather and latex with a loud yelp at his feet.
"I am Anise. I am Tok'ra," said the bundle offended at being locked in a closet for two seasons.
Jonas had heard about her. To find her now kneeling at his feet - with her reputation, he wasn't particularly surprised. After all, thought The Disaster That Is Jonas, I AM a hunk, A fresh new face. This Tok'ra Barbie should be kneeling at my feet.
His nose wrinkled. "What is that foul stench?"
Anise frowned. "Sometime after I was forced into this locker, they added The Red Herring."
"Red Herring?"
"That is correct." Anise held up the Red Herring, rather limp now. On one side was written Jack, and on the other, Sam. "Someone had made an error."
"An error? The Powers That Be?"
"Yes. I was to be the new love interest--"
"No, I was the new love interest, the Hunk they brought in to replace the Wonder That Is Daniel."
"I was to be the... Replace Daniel?"
"Yes. He threw a hissy fit and ran off into the sunset, pouting because Jack loved Sam and something called Jelly ate his Tuna Sandwich. Plus, I'd heard the wallpaper paste was beginning to itch."
"But..." Anise was confuse. "Don't they know that Daniel can't be replaced?"
Jonas did a double take. "What do you mean 'Daniel can't be replaced'? I am his replacement and if I do say so myself, I'm fantastic. Why, no one else can hold their breath and long as me, and no one else has McDonald's toys and, and, and no one else can read really, really fast. I'm the perfect replacement for Daniel. No one even missed him! His fish..er, I mean my fish even told me they don't miss him!!"
Anise continued to look confused and absent mindedly dropped the red herring. She took a deep breath and Jonas' gaze was automatically sucked into the gravitational pull of her chest.
"The fish? When did aquatic animals gain the ability to communicate in speech?", she asked.
"Well, well," Jonas floundered. "Well, I don't know! Maybe it's because I can hold my breath for a really, really long time and they think I'm one of them. And you can't prove they didn't so there! I am better than old Daniel ever was!" He stuck his tongue out at the alien at his feet.
Suddenly, a knock came at the door...
Jonas opened the door. It was Jack.
"Oh, you did miss me!! See, I knew I was important!"
Jonas threw himself into Jack's arms. At least he started to. Jack, fortunately, moved quickly to one side, and Jonas fell forward. Which would have hurt any normal person, but being the super-breathholding, Brilliant Mind (TM) with the power to see into the future (as long as it was to save his own ass) he quickly turned as he fell and fell on, well, his ass.
"Miss who? Oh... no. Actually, I just came in to get Anise."
Jonas' jaw dropped. So did Anise's. Well, it would have, but her chest got in the way.
"Colonel O'Neill? Have you perhaps reconsidered my offer?"
Jack's eyebrows shot up in shock and fear at the thought.
"No. But we figured that even if your character was a seven-of-nine pain in the ass, even you don't deserve to be locked in a room with Jonas here."
Jonas squeaked (as most rats are prone to do).
"What about me?"
At that moment, a second, previously unseen locker began to rock violently. Seizing the excuse to end his conversation with Jonas, Jack pulled out his infamous sidearm and shot the lock off. A man stepped out. He was tall, handsome, with light brown hair, and a roguish twinkle in his eye.
"Well, hello there," Anise purred, her chest heaving as her eyes roamed up and down his body.
"Aris Boch!" Jack exclaimed. "What happened to you? We thought the goa'uld had gotten you."
"Nah," Aris said. "I've been stuck in that closet since Season three."
"Why, for crying out loud?" Jack asked.
"Beats me. You'd think that a good-looking, charming, POPULAR guest star like me would become a recurring character or at least get a second episode. But no, after one memorable appearance I get sent to oblivion while annoying duds like Marty, Sarah/Osiris and Cadet Haley get multiple eps."
"Yeah, well, it all depends on who created you," Jack said.
"So, you're Aris Boch," Jonas said, his trademark 'serial killer' smile at full teeth. "Seeing that I'm such an important member of the SGC, and I'm so marvelously talented, how much would I be worth to the goa'uld?"
Aris Boch gazed at Jonas for a moment. Taking in the puffy face, receding hairline, and general aura of weaselness, he said, "oh, I think you'd fetch about, well, nothing."
"What!" Jonas screeched in outrage. "You said Jackson was worth a day's rations! And I can hold my breath a LOT longer than he can."
"Enough about you, fishboy, let's talk about me," Anise said, sidling up to Aris Boch.
She likes him. Danny and I are safe. Sweet! Jack thought, practically fainting from relief.
Suddenly, a staff weapon blast blew apart Jonas' lava lamp. His complimentary Weather Channel wall maps and umbrella were coated in the hot, viscous fluid. He turned angrily to see who would do such a thing to his precious lava lamp, then stopped short, paling noticeably.
"Oh, hey, Teal'c!" Jack said brightly as the Jaffa warrior made his way into the Jonas' new office. Jack examined the shattered remnants of the lava lamp, then glanced back at the big man. "Somethin' buggin' ya there, buddy?"
"Indeed." Teal'c snarled, bringing his staff vertical. He glowered momentarily at Jonas, who urinated then bravely dived behind his desk.
Aris Boch looked at O'Neill. "You chose him as your fourth?" he asked, jabbing a thumb backwards at the desk. "What the hell are you guys smoking here?"
O'Neill just sneered, "Hey, contrary to popular belief, it was NOT my idea."
The others watched as Teal'c cast his eyes around the room in search of something. Then spying the object he sought--a Pier One Import sundial candleholder sticking out of one of Jonas' office moving boxes--he strode over to it and snatched it from the box. Making his way around the desk, he towered over the man cowering behind it.
"Thievery may be an acceptable practice on your planet, but it is not on Chulak, nor is it on this world. Next time, it shall be your fruit basket." With that, the Jaffa, staff weapon and candleholder in hand, stomped purposefully out of the room.
Anise watched the Jaffa leave the room and sighed, her breasts aglow with arousal.
Jack peeked his head around the desk and grimaced, "Uh, Jonas. We really gotta talk about those Depends thingies, guy. This is getting outa hand."
Jonas squeaked something unintelligible that no one else in the room could make out, so they just ignored him.
Just then General George Hammond strode into the room, smiled at Jack, ignored Aris Boch, grimaced at Anise and sneered at Jonas, who promptly ducked under his desk.
Strangely, the General was carrying a pair of shoes.
"Ahh, Jonas. Just the person."
Jonas slowly peeked up from behind his desk, then manfully, masterfully and bravely rose from his cowardly position to grin inanely at the General. Of course he was "just the person". He was always just the person, and it was about time that everyone realized that.
"General! What can I do for you?"
Hammond, wishing that he was wearing Jack's famous shades, kept Jonas at arms' length by holding out the shoes to him.
"Well, with Doctor Jackson coming back, but no-one knowing exactly how he's going to return to us, I thought it might be prudent to have a wardrobe of clothes available for him. The cream trousers and sweater are at the dry-cleaners, but seeing as certain people get rather... excited... at the sight of his toes..."
Anise sighed, her breasts expanding alarmingly. Aris Boch grinned, remembering his last meeting with Daniel. Jack fingered his side-arm.
"... I thought it would be prudent to have a pair of shoes ready, too. You have read up on How to Shine Shoes Until you Can See Your Face in Them, haven't you?"
At that moment, the klaxon sounded. "Unauthorized Wormhole," The Chevron Guy cried. They all stampeded towards the gateroom. Lying on the floor was a very real, very solid, and very naked Daniel Jackson. Displaying the true leadership, General Hammond merely looked at Daniel and said, "I don't care where you've descended from, Dr. Jackson, you're out of uniform".
Jack muttered something about it getting warm, while Sam and Janet fogged up the glass in the viewing area.
"So what happens now?" Jonas whined unattractively.
"Seeing that we don't need you anymore, we'll send you to an appropriate destination," Hammond said. "Chevron Guy, dial up the address for 'The Planet of the Not-Monkeys'," he said as the assembled crowd cheered and applauded.
"Teal'c, we're buddies, save me," Jonas pleaded.
"JonasQuinn, as a token of my esteem, I will do this," Teal'c said, then proceeded to give Jonas an atomic wedgie.
The wormhole engaged; the last thing Jonas heard before being pitched headfirst into a large pile of Miggsy's dung was a chorus of "Don't Let The Wormhole Hit You On The Ass On Your Way Out".
The End.