Our intrepid explorers just escaped the clutches of the PSG's. Now that was exciting. Dr. B. is unconscious on the floor, in front of the gate. You guys should really move him; he's getting blood everywhere. That could be a fire hazard. If the Fire Marshall comes, everyone hide. Except for you Doc, you just play dead. That's good, just like that.
Shep is still pissed at McKay for starting all of this. Never, and I repeat, never touch the sacred flower. Not even if an omnipotent being makes you do it to amuse themselves. Personally, I would never do such a thing, I was speaking hypothetically. McKay is trying to keep Teyla between him and Shep. The BDU wearing CO of the U.S.A.F. is PO'd at the MRE loving PhD with the high IQ for getting the ATA sharing MD a.k.a. CMO skewered by the PSG's. You guys look like you are playing tag. Grow up already. There are bleeding people on the floor. What? Yes, I said people, as in more than one. Of course I mentioned both of them. Fine, fine, I'll do it again, just for you. Pay attention next time.
Behind door number one, we have the Scot with major blood loss. He was formally a human shish kebab, but gave up that gig for a more flexible position. Behind door number two is that other guy. Remember that pointy stick that the PSG's tossed through the gate as a parting gift? Well, the stick heard my wishes and has embedded itself into that Ford guy.
Now I know what you are thinking. But trust me; strip twister is a lot more fun when you are drunk. Oh, sorry, I got confused. You want to know where the pointy stick is, don't you? Well, this I have never seen before, and I've seen a lot. There was this one time when...ok, ok, stop yelling. I'll tell. The random guy with the hat has been skewered through his thigh. Unfortunately, the pointy stick went straight through that thigh and into the other one. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, both of his thighs, as in two. Man, you shouldn't have been standing sideways like that. That has got to suck.
Dr. B now has a bleeding buddy. The medics finally arrive. You guys sure took your sweet time. What the hell were you doing? Playing tiddlywinks? No, no, no, don't just stand there and look at 'formally skewered' and 'skewered', do something. Are you people really medical practitioners, or does Dr. B just keep you around because you're pretty to look at? I thought Beckett was the pretty one? Did I just say that out loud? I meant it in a manly sort of way...yeah.
What's-his-face is moaning in pain; what a whuss. He's trying to curl into the fetal position...a little hard when you can't move anything below the waist. Where's the PSG's when you need them. They would have a field day with this one. Maybe I should bring some here to entertain myself. Hmm, thinking...thinking...thinking.
Anyway, that one guy is being lifted onto a stretcher. Why do they call those things stretchers anyhow? It sounds more like a torture device. He ate my last cookie...SEND HIM TO THE STRETCHER! Mwwhahaha! I think it would be way more effective as the name of an implement of doom. Back to the action, injured grunt boy is being wheeled off on the rollie-bed. Meanwhile, the medic people who are left are fighting over who gets to work on their boss. You people amaze me. Let the good doctor bleed to death why don't you? Arguing fools! You need to be taught a lesson.
Oh look, the gate accidentally turned on and a mob of PSG's just came thorough. Another odd coincidence, all of the weapons (not including the pointy sticks) have vanished. Shep, who has McKay in a headlock, releases the scientist and gives him a little shove in the PSG's direction as he and Teyla run after Ford pretending to be concerned for his well being, so they won't get in trouble. Oh yeah, that was real mature. Enter Dr. Elizabeth Weir. I don't really like that name; it's too long. Dr. Elizabeth will henceforth be referred to as DEW.
DEW comes out of her high and mighty office. Woah, she does not look amused. I'd hate to have that look directed towards me. She's yelling at retreating soldier boy for trying to sacrifice the smart guy. That was hilarious.
The PSG's circle Dr. B. They are all pointing their sticks outwards, so no one can get into the circle. I wonder what they're up to. They let the medics finish patching up Beckett...um, he needs more than a field dressing there guys. He doesn't seem to be moving. I think he's dead. Hey, one of the PSG's is thinking like me. Great minds think alike. He gently pokes Dr. B. Hmm...no movement. I think he lost too much blood. Poor guy.
Ooh, the PSG's are pissed. Their play toy has died. That sucks. They shove all the medics out of their circle and poke the doc some more. DEW is yelling at them, but they ignore her. After all, they are the ones with the pointy objects.
The PSG's scan the room for someone else to torture. Most of them maintain the circle, whilst a brave few venture out. Hey looky, they find that pony-tailed prick. I forgot he was here, probably because he was hiding behind a console. Yes, kill him, he's annoying. A stick is shoved in his face and he is now in the fetal position rocking back ad forth and crying like a baby. Yup, he handles stressful situations like a pro. Get that man a pacifier! And you handpicked this guy yourself, DEW? What were you thinking? I'd rather have a monkey who flings his own poo watching my back, as opposed to that Kavanaugh guy. And you can quote me on that.
Finding the pitiful excuse for a man under par for skewering, the PSG's move on. One of them chucks a pointy stick at DEW's head. It whizzes by, missing her by mere centimeters. Damn, she didn't even flinch. Holy crap, I think they are scared of her. Chalk one up for DEW.
I can tell they really miss being mean to Carson. Let's see what I can do about that. Make sure no body is looking, and presto, Dr. B. is back from the light. IT'S ALIVE! I told him not to look directly at it. You people should learn to listen to me by now. By some miraculous feat, Beckett's blood level is back to normal. Huh, I wonder how that happened. It's not like I could do that...or anything. Nothing should be that easy, so the big gaping hole in his arm and shoulder is still there. That must hurt like the devil. Bummer.
With their favorite person risen from the dead, the PSG's stop searching for a replacement; although, they were looking at McKay with an evil glint. Well, that's an interesting use of the stargate. Way to be creative guys. The gate is acting as a makeshift gallows. Where that rope came from, I will never know. Don't even go there, I swear I didn't have a hand in that...this time. I think they're going to string up poor Beckett. He should win an award or something for being the PSG's whipping boy and not dying...oh wait. Ok, how about being the whipping boy, overcoming death, and revising the role? Yeah, I like that. Someone get cracking on that award.
Two PSG's are holding up Dr. B. while another is flinging a rope over the gate. Nice throw. Now they are fastening a noose around the Scot's neck. DEW does not look like she is enjoying this. Hey, order the crying guy to trade places, like a noble sacrifice. He'd probably pass out halfway there, but then he wouldn't feel a thing. It's a win/win situation. C'mon, you know you want to. Phoey, doesn't look like that's going to happen.
Wow, brave little toaster. McKay makes an excellent flying tackle and takes out one of the PSG's holding up Carson. The rugby fans can appreciate that move. It was a nice idea, but now he is right next to Dr. B. also being fitted for a noose. And you know what they say, no noose is good noose! What? I thought it was funny. DEW is about to explode here. She's using all of her diplomatic skills in her possession. No luck. Wait...maybe it did work. The neck stretching exhibit is put on hold and one of the PSG's is walking towards her.
He stops just feet in front of her and...cover me in butter and call me Suzie! You will not believe what just came out of that PSG's mouth. Here it is, and I quote. "Begging your pardon madam, but our death by asphyxiation ritual must be adhered to. One of your team members defiled our sacred flower during their expedition. Our divine deities demand this sacrifice. Terribly sorry for the inconvenience, but we must proceed." The little buggers even have English accents.
Poor DEW is so shocked that she can't utter a word in response. That was a total one-eighty. I wonder if I can rent these guys for my next birthday party. They'd be a hoot. I bet they'd make great balloon animals, just look at the exquisite knots they used for the nooses. Brilliant!
The two scientist dudes, Bloody and Snarky, are in the final stages of the ritual. Nooses taut, the PSG's are about to pull the rope lifting the guys up. Is anyone going to stop them? Anyone...anyone? Nope? Ok, on with the show. The PSG's do the 'ole heave-ho and our boys are airborne.
Rod looks like he has ants in his pants. Stop squirming and take it like a man. Dr. B. is...wait, where is Dr. B? How did he get on the floor? The rope is still attached to his neck, and he's sputtering and coughing on the ground. I'm lost. Wait...McKay just joined Beckett. Sadly, his landing left something to be required. Did I hear bone snap? Yes? No? Anyone? Will someone please tell me what is happening?
Ahh, I see. Man, that is so cliche. The mighty Maj. is sneaking around shooting the ropes, releasing our favorite prisoners. That is so not fair. There needs to be an epic battle, death and destruction. I paid good money for these seats. I demand action. Where are those Customer Evaluation Cards...I am so going to give you lot a little piece of my mind.
Moving on. Poor PSG's. They are as confused as I am. Mr. Fantastic has recovered enough to help Beckett out of his new neck attire. I think he landed on his injured shoulder when he was set free by Shep. That blood stain looks like ketchup. Hey Rod...lick it. I'm only curious because it
looks fake. Well, poke it at the very least.
DEW has finally regained her composure. Thank heavens for that; she could have caught flies (or a virus) with her mouth open like that. She runs to the science duo and kneels down, making sure they are still alive. Hey lady, they are moving, that's your first cue right there. Ok, now this is what I'm talking about.
The PSG's are surround the trio pointing their pointy sticks at the Atlantis members. They still seem to be a little timid when it comes to DEW. This leader chick has major kahones. Aw, now isn't that sweet. The battered and bloody doctor man is trying to get in front of DEW to protect her. That's so cute. I see a couple flaws in your plan, my good man. #1 you were just brought back from the dead, you have a hole in your shoulder, and almost got hung like two minutes ago. #2 The PSG's are surrounding you. No matter where you are, the attackers always have a clear shot at DEW. But other than that, good plan.
Oh look, PSG's are in awe. I don't think they believe Dr. B should be able to move, and he's trying to protect an able bodied team member. Maybe he's secretly bionic. Damn, they look really confused. The pointy sticks are drooping and they are chatting amongst themselves. Ok...One of them just fell over, adding more confusion.
Dun, dun, dun, the plot thickens; there is a tranquilizer dart sticking out of his chest. A couple more PSG's hit the deck. Finally, the fog of mystery has been lifted. Shep drops from out of no where and he shoots the remaining PSG's. He is covered in war paint. Dude, you look like an idiot. You did it to blend in, my ass. You just wanted to strip down to your pants in front of the hot chick. Well, buddy boy, she's not here. Even if she was...SHE'S MINE!
I guess the war paint went to his head, because he hasn't stop shooting even though all of the PSG's are out. He just took out DEW and Beckett, causing McKay to look at the unconscious people at his feet and run off. He isn't fast enough due to his broken ankle, and the military fool just shoots him in the butt. He totally did that on purpose. That's what you get for touching the sacred flower.
Shep leaves the medics to run around like chickens with their heads cut off. They are very amusing. I know, they should have a job-swap day. The military blokes should switch places with the scientists. Yes, I know the city would go to hell. That's the point. You know it'd be funny. Admit it.
Johnny seems to be done with his dart shooting spree. I wonder if he realized he was going to get in big trouble, or he just ran out of darts. Well, now he grabs Kavanaugh, who is still cowering in the corner and tells him to dial the gate to PSGHW (Pointy Stick Guy's Home World). What's that on girly-man's pants? They seem a little soggy. I'm desperately trying not to think of why that is. Damn...failed. Moving on.
The gate just flushed open. Nice one there G.I. Joe, since you shot everyone, you have to drag all the PSG's to the gate all by your lonesome. And you're supposed to be a smart military leader. You lied on you application, didn't you?
Now he's tossing the PSG's through the blue puddle thing like sacks of potatoes. That's going to hurt on the other side. Eh, what do I care? They have amused me. No, no, no, don't hurl DEW along with the PSG's. Dumbass. Well, this is boring again. The threat has been taken care of, everyone is unconscious or crying in a corner and no one is on the verge of dying. That's it, I'm leaving. Although, it did turn out to be a good show. So, same time next week? Remember, it's your turn to bring the popcorn.
The End...Until the next episode.
