Part Nine:

SG-1 Has Dinner With The Simpsons (Again)

At the dinner table, Daniel sat across from Homer. From that vantage point, Daniel addressed his host. The archaeologist wore an intense look as he pointed his hands toward each other.

"That's just how I feel. What do you think?"

For several seconds, a silent Homer sat there blinking his eyes. After enough of that, Homer gaily (or perhaps frantically) shouted an announcement.

"Dinner's over! Let's watch TV!"

Everyone—SG-1 and the Simpsons—ran to the living room couch where they all quickly sat down. Once they finished, the arrangement was this: O'Neill sat on Homer's lap, Marge sat on Daniel's lap, a very happy Lisa was cradled in Carter's arms, and little Maggie was nestled in the big bulky arms of Teal'c.

While Maggie stared up at Teal'c (who wore a slight serene smile), Bart sat at the feet of O'Neill and his father. As he sat there, Bart wore a daffy smile.

For a moment, the only sound was Maggie sucking her pacifier. Then:

"Ma-a-a-a-arge!" Homer whined. "Do you really have to sit on Daniel's lap like that?"

"Just trying to be a good host."

O'Neill had one arm around O'Neill's neck as he glanced around at the group.

"You folks do this a lot? Running to the couch, I mean."

Homer responded with an angry glance.

"Shh! The news is on."

When Homer shushed him, O'Neill wore a slightly sour look as he turned to look at the TV.

On the TV, a man with white hair and a slightly bored look delivered the news.

"Good evening. I'm Kent Brockman. Our top story tonight: Springfield's new secret base, Stargate Command, is no longer secret. In part because local goof Homer Simpson began writing stories about the base with a guy named Joe from Indiana."

Daniel gave Homer a look. "You can write?"

With a nervous look, Homer shrugged. "I dictated."

Carter made a face. "Joe from Indiana? Sir, isn't that the guy you shared thoughts with?"

"Ah, yes. Good old Joe. A very good bowler. He got game, Sam."

"A bowler?" Homer howled. "Marge was interested in a bowler once. I needed help from my guardian angel who took the form of Colonel Klink. I'm just glad it wasn't General Birkhalter. That guy's a jerk!"

"Thank you, Homer," O'Neill said. "I, for one, found Joe's bowling to be very relaxing." To show his relaxation, O'Neill settled back into his seat, which was Homer.

Carter stared at the TV as she munched popcorn. "Good for you, sir. That's great."

"Shh," Bart said.

Carter frowned. "Did you just shush me, Bart?"

"A woman at the movie theater does that to me all the time," Homer said. "I think her name is Gracie."

Bart pointed to the TV. "I want to see if they mention me."

"If they do mention you, Bart Simpson, it will be bad news."

"You're bad news, Teal'c."

"Shh," Carter said.

Brockman went on.

"Homer and Joe worked with TV scriptwriter Martin Lloyd to create a TV series, the quickest TV series ever produced." Brockman laughed lightly. "Bart Simpson then blabbed to reporters that the events on the TV show were real."

There was a collective gasp from the group.

Brockman was handed a paper. "This just in: The dangerous alien race the Goa'uld are about to invade Springfield! Thank you, Bart Simpson."

"Bart!" Homer shouted. His hands reached out to grab the boy but he stopped when he noticed O'Neill climbing off his lap. Carter and Teal'c stood up and put Lisa and Maggie on the couch. When Daniel rose, Marge kept her arms around his neck for a moment then let go.

The members of SG-1 moved toward the front door.

"Hey!" Homer whined and objected at the same time. "Where are you guys going?"

"Back to base," O'Neill said, adjusting his cap.

"Back to the Beta Site, specifically," Carter said, also adjusting her cap.

"For the purpose of retrieving our anti-Goa'uld technology."

When Daniel saw Homer's concerned (or maybe just dazed and puzzled) look, he gave a reassuring nod.

"Don't worry, guys. We do this every day."

"May the Force be with you!" Homer called out after them.

"Good luck, Sam!"

"Good luck, Teal'c! Even if you are a booger."

"I hope they'll be okay even with an archaeologist on their team."

"Oh, Marge. I'm sure he knows which way the bullets go in."

"I hope so," Marge demurred, as she often did.

"What else is on?" Homer grabbed the remote. He gasped. "How about 'The Truman Show?'"

As you can imagine, Homer is very ADD. He could wear a T-shirt that says "ADD. Attention Defi—Hey, look! A butterfly!" Only in Homer's case, it would be "Hey, look! A dog with a fluffy white tail!"

That's because one time Homer encountered his exact duplicate but he got distracted by a dog with a white fluffy tail.

Another time Homer got distracted was when he escaped from prison and propelled himself along on a book cart. As he did, he swore revenge on Moe.

"I'll get that Moe," he muttered angrily. For a brief moment, he cruised on his cart. "Whee!" he exclaimed joyfully. Then back to anger. "Lousy Moe...Whee!" And so on and so forth, ad infinitum, ad nauseum.

Before Homer could switch the channel, Brockman went on.

"To repeat our top story: the Goa'uld are about to invade Springfield." The newscaster put aside his papers. "I, for one, welcome our alien overlords and look forward to being a host to a parasite so I can enjoy long life, enhanced strength, and heightened senses."

"Ooooh," Homer said with a smile. "Could a Goa'uld give me a spider-sense?"

"I don't think we should find out, Homey."

"Once again: welcome, alien overlords!"

Brockman said something similar when he thought aliens ants were invading Earth. As Colonel O'Neill might say: no allegiance to the human race, that guy. A real weasel.

The weasel concluded with, "When you get taken over by a Goa'uld, you can thank Bart Simpson."

"Why, you little-!"

"No, Homer, don't strangle Bart," Marge chided, waving a yellow finger. "You need to call Stargate Command and find out what we need to do."

Once Homer was on the phone, it wasn't long before he became angry.

"You can't put me on hold!" he shouted. "I'll put you on hold!" With that, he used his less-than-melodious voice to sing "Wichita Lineman."

Amazingly, Homer had the ability to improvise lyrics and make them work with the melody of a song. You might call him a Weird-Al-Yankovic-idiot-savant. Or just an idiot, as you wish.

"Dad!" Lisa wailed in that shrill whiny insistent voice that even a very smart little girl can get. "You have to keep trying!"

Another ability that Homer had was he could talk to Lisa in a way that was both mocking and affectionate.

"Your call is very important, Lisa, and it will be answered in the order in which it was received." Homer then loudly wailed out warbled notes as he sang the concluding words of "Wichita Lineman."

It could have been worse. One time Homer lost Maggie so he called the Missing Baby Department. As he waited, Homer could only moan quietly as the on-hold music system played "Baby Come Back."

"Maybe being a Goa'uld won't be so bad," Homer said with a shrug as he hung up the phone.

"I don't know," Marge said. "From what Colonel O'Neill told me, they're not very nice people."

"Mom!" Lisa said in that wailing voice. "They're not people at all!"

"Lisa's right, Mom. Teal'c doesn't like them so they must be a bunch of stinkers."

Again, Homer shrugged. "Maybe the Goa'uld are just friends we haven't met yet."

"Yeah, right, Dad," Bart sniffed.

"Only if your friend is someone who gets inside you and makes you do awful things."

Homer adopted a syrupy oozing tone of voice to go with his goofy grin. "Oh, Lisa. Isn't that the very definition of a friend?"

Lisa scowled as she got a pat on the head.

Bart spoke with confidence. "I'm with Colonel O'Neill on this one. No one's taking over me!" He jerked a defiant thumb in the direction of his small orange T-shirt.

"Fear not, Simpsons. I am here to assist you."

It was Walter. Other-Walter.

As usual, for a brief moment Homer shrieked in terror then he quickly got angry. One hand went to his hip while the other was used to point.

"Hey! How did you get in here?"

"I'm a fringe scientist, Homer. There are many things I can do."

"Oh, I'm a fringe scientist!" Waving his arms wildly, Homer spoke in a high-pitched shrieking voice. As he went on in a sing-song voice, Homer moved his hips back and forth. "La-de-da! Whoop-de-doo!"

Walter held up a silver device that looked like a stainless steel/aluminum metal detector. "You don't need to be afraid, any of you. I will use this device to program your minds so you will know what to do when the Goa'uld arrive."

Bart and Lisa cheered. "Yay!"

"That's very good, Dr. Bishop," Marge said.

"I'll say!" Homer said. He placed a hand on Walter's shoulder as he smiled at him. "God bless you, Walter Bishop. And may the Force be with you!" With sudden insight, Homer gasped with delight. "Once you zap me, will I be able to use a lightsaber?"

"No, Homer, I'm afraid not," Walter said quietly and apologetically. "Nor will I." For a moment, he wore his look of heartbreak and happiness. Then happy lines spread on his face once again as he waved a finger. "You may not be able to wield a lightsaber, Homer. But by jove you will be able to neutralize the weapons and technology of the Goa'uld!"

Rolling his eyes, Homer waved his hand dismissively. "Bor-ing!"

With angry eyes, Marge put a hand on one hip.

"Homer, there is nothing boring about protecting our friends and neighbors from the Goa'uld!"

"I suppose," he muttered, his own eyes pretty angry.

Because there wasn't much time, Marge kept her low growl brief.

Walter zapped Homer with the device, and Homer stood frozen and silent, with a dazed smile on his face.

"I did that partly to shut him up," Walter explained sheepishly. "He is rather a bit much at times, isn't he?"

"Yes," they all agreed reluctantly as they bowed their heads.

At the Stargate Command base, SG-1 headed for the room with the Stargate. They called it "the Gate Room." One very perky tour guide once called it "the Embarkation Room."

Incidentally, that tour guide said SG-1 was not her personal favorite SGC team.

In any case, the room with the Stargate could no longer be referred to in that way.

The Stargate was gone.