Disclaimer: Nothing of Stargate belongs to me! Um... it's a short disclaimer because... well... you guys probably know everything already and I'm too lazy to make it longer.

Author's Note: This is just a short piece set in Season 8 that could either be a stand alone piece or a sequel to my other story, "Jack's Message to the Man". Why did I write this? Well, because a reviewer asked me to write another part. See the power of reviews? Anyway, happy fanfic reading!

Message From The Man

An exhausted Jack O'neill finally got to his office. A whole day of yelling, "Stick it to the man!" to everyone he saw really strained his back for some reason. His vocal cords were working quite nicely, however.

He plopped down on his chair, closed his eyes, and put his face in his hands. Finally, he opened his eyes and smiled. He knew exactly what would cheer him up.

XXXXX

George Hammond sat down in his big, comfy leather seat. Tapping his red pen on the desk, he began to create a rhythm. He picked up another pen and slowly added a second rhythm. He was bobbing his head to the 'music' when the door to his office flew open. The two pens went flying from his hands and shooting at the officer who stood at the door.

"Sir? Was I interrupting something?"

"No, no. Sit down. What is it?" Hammond said as he gestured for the man to sit down.

"Actually, I just needed to pick up the files from yesterday."

"Ah yes, they're in Harrison's office downstairs."

"Sorry to bother you sir."

"Not a problem."

The officer left the room and Hammond was left alone again. He sighed as he leaned back against the chair. He had less work to do here than at the SGC. He didn't even know how that was possible. What was going on? He was bored out of his mind.

His eyes began to slowly close. As he was about to drift away into a deep sleep, the door burst open again.

"What!" he snapped as he jumped from his seat.

The figure who was standing in the doorway was familiar. It was the familiar offended face— the childish, old familiar face of his good friend.

"What are you doing here Jack?"

"Hello, sir, angry aren't you? Angry that I'm stopping you from getting work done?!"

"Angry? Well, surprised yes, annoyed somewhat, you could even say happy, but angry? No, no no," he said with a chuckle.

Jack shut the door closed and crossed his arms, "C'mon, I didn't call or knock and I just threw myself in here... You're not saying you're mad?!"

"No! There is nothing to do around here and as a matter of fact, I'm glad you dropped in. What brings you by?"

"B-but, I wanted to stick it to the man..."

Hammond smiled, "Oh, by all means, go ahead. Well, what are you waiting for?"

The two stood there in awkward silence as Hammond waited for Jack to do something.

"What?! I can't now. That's what you want. That's not sticking it to the man anymore."

"You came all the way down here to stick it to the man and now you back out? What did being General do to you, son? Are you cracking under pressure?"

"No! No... It's just that people are afraid of me and it's not cool."

"So, you've turned into the man... It's okay Jack, others far greater than you have fallen under the curse."

"Y-you mean...? You?"

"Heck yeah, boy!"

Jack was speechless.

"Listen, the day you stop sticking it to the man is the day you lose your hair. Heed my advice. Heed it well."

Jack slowly nodded as he opened the door and prepared to leave. He gave one last questioning look at Hammond.

"Go stick it to the man!" he barked.

"Yes... sir," Jack said, rather baffled and left.