Title: The Secret of His Success
Rating: G
Season: 4
Summary: How do scriptwriters work? The description of a creative process.
Author's Note: Who hasn't wondered: "Where do Stargate SG-1 authors get their ideas?". Well, I'm going to help you stop wondering ;-). I take it for granted that the reader has considerable knowledge of the 4th season - otherwise the story would have exceeded the 5-page-limit of the contest rules (the GermanCityCon/Stargate-Palace Fanfiction Contest 2004).
Special thanks to my betareader, Hailey, who uncomplainingly read and criticized lots and lots of versions of my script during my 3 days of writing!
The story was originally written in German. Very special thanks to Margi, who rescued me when I was "lost in translation".
Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, Gekko Productions; all the powers that be, not me. No copyright infringements intended. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands.
It's fiction, imagination… so, no offense, Mr. DeLuise!
"The season's showdown will consume the remains of our budget, and that's why we need a cost-saving episode, Peter. And I mean really cost-saving! Cheap! No, I mean beyond cheap!! No guest stars, no alien planets, no new props -- no new nothing! Stay on good old earth and use the junk that's laying around. You understand?"
"Yeah, sure, no problem!"
'Dial and Smile' was the guiding principle of the aluminum siding company where Peter DeLuise worked as a telephone solicitor years ago. Knowing that acting skills can be effective over long-distance phone lines, DeLuise pasted an artificial smile on his face and took care to sound gleefully optimistic.
"Well, I'm counting on you. I need the draft by the day after tomorrow, but I'll go ahead and okay the season's finale. See you on Monday…"
The click in the line made clear, that the conversation was over.
A cost-saving episode! Just the right thing to act as a brake on the creativity and to scale down the motivation of an author to a minimal amount. Why was he chosen for this thankless task? DeLuise let the telephone receiver sink down onto his shoulder. As dusk bathed the home office in dim light, DeLuise leaned back in his chair and, staring out the window into the darkening night, began to meditate on his dilemma.
Stay on good old earth…
How could he write an episode of a SciFi show, dealing with journeys to alien planets, without showing an alien planet?
He closed his eyes and allowed the vision of Bridge Studios and the already-existing Stargate SG-1 sets to appear. He saw himself wandering through the sets. He entered the gateroom, allowing himself to be impressed by the biggest prop ever - the Stargate. He crossed the corridor with its "concrete" walls that aren't really concrete and finally ended up in the all-purpose-room which serves as infirmary, commissary or lab depending on what is required. The room stood in terrible disorder. It appeared that one of the technicians had abused it as a junk room. In the dim light, he saw trolleys loaded with recording devices, monitors and furled wires all jumbled together.
"Hi Peter!"
"Any Problems?"
The voices behind him gave him a jerk, and he contemplated turning around. Every time this happened, it was weird, and Peter DeLuise still wasn't used to the phenomenon.
"Guys, I know you want to help me. But … this I will manage on my own", Peter stated firmly.
"Ah, don't be silly, Peter! Who saved the show for you when the tok'ra had the wacky plan to reprogram the mine? Who had the idea to let our two-in-one-friends kick their own asses and to let Apophis tumble up the 'bad guys' of the galaxy' ladder of success? Who?", the unyielding voice of Colonel Jack O'Neill reached his ear. "And if Major Carter hadn't figured out the thing with the color-coded-doohickey for you, the audience would probably have died of boredom. Spectacular explosions are not enough to prevent them from sleeping."
DeLuise sighed and turned around to face his hecklers.
"They asked me to write a low-cost-episode. Without aliens and other planets, without expendable props, without guest stars."
"Without guest stars?" the echo came from an alcove of the corridor. The figure of Major Paul Davis - properly dressed as always - appeared from the shadow.
"You promised to take me into consideration for the next script. I'm bored to death at the Pentagon! Can you imagine what it's like to read files eight hours a day while there is real action at the SGC?"
Peter DeLuise rolled his eyes. This was the last thing he needed: a minor character with special demands.
"The guidelines are clear: no guest stars", he emphasized and threw an intense look down the corridor, where, one after another, some Tok'ra and Jaffa warriors appeared.
"What kind of story did you think of?" asked Daniel Jackson. The young archeologist leaned, with crossed arms, against the door jamb, wearing a challenging expression.
"Without aliens and planets, your won't need me either. I got rid of my appendix already… maybe I can let them take my tonsils out… or whatever you can still remove from this Michael Shanks."
"Daniel!" admonished Major Samantha Carter, suddenly appearing next to him. She laid her hand calmingly on his arm. "It's not Peter's fault that he has to cut expenses down. At least we will get a great season's finale."
DeLuise started thinking aloud: "I considered a clip-episode. The usual, with a lot of flashbacks… with… perhaps a new general from the Pentagon…. oh, no, wait, that would be a guest star…"
"I could present the Pentagon's latest economy measures to General Hammond and he argues against it by means of flashbacks", Davis suggested hopefully and pushed himself slightly forward.
"A clip-show?" cried Carter in shock. "Then we have to go through all the crucial situations again? Then you do it without me!"
"I'm for the clip-show with the condition that all of our kissing scenes will be in it", O'Neill interjected with a impish smile, not impressed at all by Carter's icy glance.
"In any case, there were only two of them", said Jackson slightly disparaging.
"Three!", the Colonel corrected right away. "You are forgetting, that Peter cut out the most interesting scene of the ice-planet episode."
"Hey, that wasn't in the script at all!", reminded DeLuise goodnaturedly. As a director of the show, he took great care to hold his main characters in check.
A pondering silence filled the room, while O'Neill, using only his right index finger, repeatedly struck a keyboard lying on one of the trolleys.
"Let's take the thing systematically", suggested Sam Carter. "What do we have at our disposal?"
Peter Deluise took a deep breath.
"Only the standing sets. So, we have to stay at the SGC. We can use all the actors who have a contract for this season and are here in any case. And all the available props."
"We have to have at least the hint of an alien planet", Jackson demanded with emphasis. "A Stargate episode without the use of the Stargate doesn't make any sense!"
"Okay, if the rest is cheap enough, we could take in a minute of computer generated MALP-telemetry. But then Major Davis would be out of it", considered DeLuise.
"What? I'm less valuable than one minute of MALP-telemetry?" the offended Davis hissed. "I should work for the Russians next time!"
"But… Major… that's not what I meant! I'm not allowed to put in guest stars..."
Before DeLuise could explain further, Major Davis ducked into the darkness of his alcove and disappeared. The Tok'ra and Jaffa merged briefly in the twilight of the corridor as well, only to vanish a short time later.
"Oh crap, we won't see him for awhile", DeLuise worried contritely.
"That's okay with me. He's always looking at Carter out of the corner of his eye", O'Neill muttered.
"Really, Sir?", Carter asked and threw a doubtful glimpse to her superior officer.
"Well, the clip-episode is dead now", concluded DeLuise with resignation.
Daniel Jackson, who had completely ignored the theatrical disappearence of Major Davis, blurted out:
"Alien text, we need alien text. I won't be out of a job after all. And we haven't had hostile aliens threatening the base for a long time…"
"Daniel, are you deaf? We don't get aliens. They're too expensive!" O'Neill insisted.
"I'm not deaf, by no means! And, in any case, the aliens could be invisible."
"Oh, yes, that's quite a new idea! Do you plan to resurrect the Re'etu again?"
"Perhaps they are really small! Bacteria. A…a… virus!" Jackson kept on stubbornly. "Who says, an alien has to be two-legged and claiming an actor's salary?"
Meanwhile, Sam Carter wandered thoughtfully around between the trolleys and the technical equipment.
"We can use all this stuff laying around, right?" Carefully considering all the equipment, she began to push things together, stacking some items on top of others. In a short time, an impressive mountain of monitors, wires and technical machinery arose.
"What's that, Carter?", O'Neill, bereaved of his toy, asked slightly irritatedly.
"Just wait and see, Sir!"
Sam Carter draped some wires over the chaos like festoons, put some plugs in here and there and finally pulled a switch.
"Wow!"
Murmuring filled the room as the monitors came to flickering life and thousands of colored lights started blinking frantically.
"Marvellous, Carter!" O'Neill's voice was filled with sarcasm. "A very tasteful combination of colors. We're bound to win a Special-Effects-Emmy with this one. Now can you clue me in on how this connects to our low-cost-episode?"
"THIS is our alien entity."
"Our… WHAT? Teal'c, my friend, say something!"
O'Neill turned to the Jaffa, who had been leaning inobtrusively against a nearby shelf.
"How can a collection of technical equipment be an alien entity, Major Carter?" Teal'c asked as directed.
"Thank you, buddy!"
"You are welcome, O'Neill."
Carter followed the arguments with a smile. She began to answer, but Daniel Jackson jumped in before she could say a word:
"This is a great idea! An alien intelligence settles down here, threatens the base and we have to communicate with it."
"Yes, really great… go and chat with digital circuits. That will be exciting!" O'Neill scoffed derisively as he stalked the structure. Suddenly his face appeared on one of the monitors. He gave a astonished jerk and frowned. Then he discovered the camera mounted on the wall to his right, posed himself and smoothed his hair while he peered hard at the monitor.
"I have to go to the hairdresser again", he remarked critically.
At last he walked around Carter's work of art und pulled the plug out of the wall. The lights and monitors went out.
"Look, it's dead now!" he smirked. "It will be a wonderfully short episode. I'll start packing my fishing gear."
"Jack, you don't take this seriously", Daniel Jackson countered with frustration.
"I do!" the Colonel protested.
"You don't!"
"Do."
"Don't."
"Do."
"Guys, we aren't in a kindergarten here!" admonished Peter DeLuise.
"Aren't we?" replied O'Neill, simulating an astonished look. "We are talking about a pile of scrap, pretending to be an alien! That's childish! How much deeper can we sink? I already see myself standing in front of the thing with a giant pair of boltcutters, saying: 'Surrender, or I will cut the powerline'. My image is at stake here!"
"No, no… that is a very promising approach", DeLuise interjected. "That is the A-plot: the SGC is affected by an alien intelligence, who tries to spread out and gains control."
"We've experienced this threat already", Teal'c declared. "The Trojan bowl."
"Okay, right, but this time the motivation of the entity could be different", said Jackson. "Maybe we are the evil now and the entity is fighting for it's life?"
"We are evil?" Teal'c raised an eyebrow sceptically.
"In the eye of the entity. It tries to defeat us because we are a threat to it", explained the archeologist patiently.
"Oh, yes, this is completely different!", O'Neill mocked. "If you suggest that I be pierced by an alien weapon again just to give Dr. Fraiser some work to do, I will resign once and for all! This time it's Siler's turn… or much better Carter's… and I will rescue her. Right… and … Peter: the last scene has to be perfectly romantic. Just Carter and me and…"
"Colonel O'Neill!"
The rigorous voice of General Hammond sounded through the door and cut his second-in-command short. "You don't mean to trespass against the Airforce rules?"
"Of course not, Sir."
O'Neill stood at attention with an air of innocence. "I would never do such… you know me inside out, General! But after the zatarc test and the time-loop incident no one believes there is nothing going on between Carter and me."
The General, unconvinced, shook his head and turned to his boss: "I beg your pardon for coming so late, Peter. My grandchildren wouldn't let me go. I had to read them a good-night-story first."
"It doesn't matter, we are nearly ready in any case", Deluise replied. The episode slowly took form in his mind.
"We are?" asked the astonished O'Neill.
Peter DeLuise began to wander back and forth in front of the entity's "nest".
"Yeah, we have all we need: the MALP-telemetry, the threat for the SGC by an alien intelligence…"
Hammond interrupted: "Where does the intelligence come from? What planet should I send SG-1 to?"
"No mission, Sir", the Colonel informed him in a telegraphic style. " I just say: low-cost-episode! No gate-travel, no planet, no alien beings - only this… thing."
O'Neill waved his arms meaningfully and distorted his face in disgust.
"So, how can an alien entity invade the SGC?" Hammond asked irritatedly.
That was one point on his 'list of problems to be solved' which Peter DeLuise still hadn't worked out.
"Ahhhm… so… "he began, in the hope of getting help from somewhere. He wasn't disappointed.
"Through the MALP-signal, over very high frequency oscillations transmitted on the feedback loop, of course." It had been obvious to Carter the whole time.
"Yes, sure. That's just what I wanted to say." DeLuise was relieved and continued: "In the B-plot, Major Carter's life is at stake because Colonel O'Neill pulls the entity's plug and it invades her body."
"I will be a host for something again? Can't the thing chose someone else?", moaned Samantha Carter; but DeLuise pretended not to notice. He couldn't take all the sensibilities of his protagonists into consideration if he ever wanted to get this special mission ready.
"And you, Colonel, will…"
PeterDeLuise made a pregnant pause for effect. It was a pleasure to tease his main characters on occasion.
"… rescue her?", O'Neill completed the sentence enthusiastically.
"No, better."
"Kiss her?", asked the Colonel hopefully.
"No, much better!"
"Rescue AND kiss her?"
"No…"
"Then WHAT?"
Jack O'Neill's small amount of patience was completely gone. Sam Carter, Daniel Jackson, Teal'c and the General waited in suspense.
"You will… shoot her."
"Shoot her, like in… dead?"
"Exactly!"
O'Neill opened his mouth for a vigorous protest, but a loud sound pulled Peter DeLuise out of his daydream. He stared at the desk in front of him. The wires of his computer, keyboard, mouse, printer, phone and answering machine were all tangled up together. The telephone receiver had slid down from his shoulder and crashed to the floor. In front of the printer laid a piece of paper showing the words:
"I AM HERE!"
"Peter!", his wife called from the kitchen. "Dinner's ready!"
"Don't wait for me, darling. I have to write down a few ideas first", he answered, as he hastened to tidy up the chaos that lay before him.
Then, with a satisfied smile, Peter DeLuise began typing. On the monitor appeared the headline:
Child's Play / Entity / Die falsche Wahl
