Happy Easter!
This is a response to ladygris and theicemenace's challenge. Write a one-shot, no less than 500 words and no more than 1000 words in length that begins AND ends with the phrase "It was a dark and stormy night." It's very hard to limit myself to 1000 words and I had to search through and trim the fat.
I have never written for a challenge before and never written in this fandom but this little nibbling idea would not go away. It stems from my brother and myself arguing our way through high school over which was more important – Science/Maths or English/Humanities. I won by telling him that even the best scientific discovery or mathematical theory has to be written down and communicated to others so descriptive English trumps all! Twenty years later and he's still not convinced. I think he'd get on well with McKay.
The second inspiration can be found at the end of this. I don't know if it's true but it sure made me laugh and it made me think Rodney could come up with something similar.
It was a dark and stormy night.
Rodney stared at the stupid words on the screen.
"Hmmmph," he snorted derisively. "He thinks he's so smart! Just cos he can paint doesn't give him the monopoly on creativity!"
Rodney's mind insisted on taking him back to the previous day in the mess when Evan Lorne had the nerve to call him dull! Well, unable to appreciate the finer points of artistic endeavour was more accurate but what it really translated to was dull. It had all started over the fact that some pretty little blonde airhead nurse – where did Carson find some of them? – was gushing over the major's latest painting. Rodney had passed by as the girl was fairly drooling into Lorne's lap and he had made some flippant comment that he couldn't really recall now. Whatever it was it had sparked an exchange that left Rodney feeling less than impressed. After all, scientific achievement was the pinnacle of Humanity over the eons. Definitely many levels over artistic achievement. There was so much that was subjective about the creative arts but science was above all that. It was defined by logic. Pure. Consistent. If only they were real there were some days Rodney McKay could best describe himself as a Vulcan. Mr Logic. That was him. Not like some marmy schmarmy artiste who masqueraded as a soldier!
For the rest of the day he had been unable to concentrate and it completely escaped him why the major's comments had stung so badly. Whatever it was he determined he could rise to the challenge that had been issued as he haughtily departed the mess.
Create something artistic that is unique to you.
Rodney's analytical mind quickly shifted into gear. First step – define "artistic". Well it obviously included painting and drawing, sculpture, music, writing, drama and dancing . As he mentally crossed off the ones he knew he couldn't do, Rodney found himself with one slender option – writing. He refused to allow Major Know-it-all get away with telling everyone he had failed such a simple challenge.
So that was how he found himself staring at a stupid computer screen with the cheesy words laughing back at him. It didn't seem to matter what he tried to start off with, his mind just went straight to clichés. It occurred to him that some writer had once said the opening line of a book was the hardest one to write but it wasn't until now that he realised how true that was.
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times...
It is a truth, universally acknowledged ...
The opening lines just rolled through his mind as though they were taunting him. Classic opening lines that had been quoted endlessly by literature students. So why was it proving so hard for the brilliant mind of Doctor Rodney McKay to come up with something better than "It was a dark and stormy night"? If it had been written on a piece of paper Rodney would have screwed it up and thrown it into the bin. Instead, he just jabbed his finger repeatedly at the backspace button until the offending words disappeared.
As he stared at the black screen and the little blinking cursor, a long-forgotten memory from high school flitted through his mind.
Write about what you know.
Some English teacher, who probably hated having Rodney in her class as much as he hated being there, had given him that useful piece of advice. He had only been in the class because he had to and certainly wasn't interested in creative writing. He had far more important things to spend his time on but English was a required subject to graduate, so he had endured the time by working on maths theorems instead.
"Al...right then," Rodney chewed on his lip. "What do I know?" He smiled to himself at the irony in that question but suddenly found himself grinning as a glimmer of an idea hit him. He began typing furiously as he raced to get the idea down in words before his brain lost interest.
Lorne had barely made it back through the gate before McKay came rushing up to him and thrust something into his hand.
"I believe I have fulfilled your challenge, Major." Before he had time to respond McKay had turned and was hurrying back up the steps. He paused briefly and turned back towards Lorne. "As if there was ever any doubt!"
Lorne laughed softly to himself as he watched the scientist's retreating back. "None whatsoever," he muttered as he glanced down at the neatly folded pages in his hand.
Nearly an hour and a half later Evan strolled into the mess and was amused to see McKay sitting with his team while trying to look as though he hadn't noticed the major's entrance. It took all his self-control not to laugh but he managed to keep a straight face as he headed for the food line. A shower was a definite need before coming for dinner but he had decided to read McKay's offering before washing off the grime of the day. It was pure mischief that made him sit in his quarters for an extra half hour before coming to the mess but McKay was just too good a target to miss an opportunity.
Lorne sat down next to Teyla and greeted everyone at the table. Finally he decided to take pity on the scientist who looked like he couldn't sit still any longer without giving himself away. It amused Lorne to see what effect his challenge had had on the normally over-confident scientist. It was just a light-hearted jab but McKay had surprised him with his intelligent, descriptive and very witty response. He held out the paper and nodded slowly.
"Good job, Doctor. I am surprised though. I would have thought your writing style would have been more along the lines of ... it was a dark and stormy night."
HELL EXPLAINED BY CHEMISTRY STUDENT
The following is an actual question given on a University of Washington chemistry mid term.
The answer by one student was so 'profound' that the professor shared it with colleagues, via the Internet, which is, of course, why we now have the pleasure of enjoying it as well :
Question: Is Hell exothermic (gives off heat) or endothermic (absorbs heat)?
Most of the students wrote proofs of their beliefs using Boyle's Law (gas cools when it expands and heats when it is compressed) or some variant.
One student, however, wrote the following:
First, we need to know how the mass of Hell is changing in time. So we need to know the rate at which souls are moving into Hell and the rate at which they are leaving. I think that we can safely assume that once a soul gets to Hell, it will not leave. Therefore, no souls are leaving. As for how many souls are entering Hell, let's look at the different religions that exist in the world today.
Most of these religions state that if you are not a member of their religion, you will go to Hell. Since there is more than one of these religions and since people do not belong to more than one religion, we can project that all souls go to Hell. With birth and death rates as they are, we can expect the number of souls in Hell to increase exponentially. Now, we look at the rate of change of the volume in Hell because Boyle's Law states that in order for the temperature and pressure in Hell to stay the same, the volume of Hell has to expand proportionately as souls are added.
This gives two possibilities:
1. If Hell is expanding at a slower rate than the rate at which souls enter Hell, then the temperature and pressure in Hell will increase until all Hell breaks loose.
2. If Hell is expanding at a rate faster than the increase of souls in Hell, then the temperature and pressure will drop until Hell freezes over.
So which is it?
If we accept the postulate given to me by Teresa during my Freshman year that, 'It will be a cold day in Hell before I sleep with you,' and take into account the fact that I slept with her last night, then number two must be true, and thus I am sure that Hell is exothermic and has already frozen over. The corollary of this theory is that since Hell has frozen over, it follows that it is not accepting any more souls and is therefore, extinct...leaving only Heaven, thereby proving the existence of a divine being which explains why, last night, Teresa kept shouting 'Oh my God.'