PSG 3

Picture if you will, a seemingly quite day in the city of Atlantis. Little do they know, what they about to experience can only be described as sheer terror. This is because they are in: The Twilight Zone...do do do do do do do do. What do you mean I can't say that? Calm down, we are not going to get sued. You're just jealous because I can do a better impersonation of Rod Sterling. Hey, I thought I told you to bring the popcorn this time? You are completely useless, you know that right?

I want that British guy's job. All he does is sit around pushing buttons. I can do that. It's not like he's going to die anytime soon, or anything. Oh look, he's pushing those shiny buttons now. That toilet boil flush effect never gets old. INCOMING! Sucker! Made you duck. The fab four have returned. Wait, I don't see any casts...have I been gone that long? I thought I set my alarm for like, an hour. Oops.

Something is wrong with this picture. What could it be...I have it! They make is through the gate and there's no blood or angry natives. What have you guys been doing since I've been gone? Nothing fun I see. A nice friendly game of Pick-Up Sticks is not what I meant when I said I wanted fierce competition. No one looks broken. I'm going to cry. Although that Ford guy is holding himself like he has broken ribs. Now it could get interesting. Except...he's smiling. What the hell? I always suspected he was a strange little man.

DEW sends them all to see the mighty Scot. He better break out the big needles. Dr. B looks brand spankin' new as well. Seriously, how long was I out? Who spiked my drink? I will have my revenge! Anywho…the leader, the geek, and the hot chick have no boo-boo's and make a b-line far away from the room that holds instruments labeled 'probes'.

The 'other' dude seems reluctant to shed his clothes. Don't be shy...strip for the crowd. Yes, I know it's only us and Dr. B. It was just an expression. Besides, I know you want to see him naked. Anyway, Beckett is in full doctor mode. He looks really worried; I hope he doesn't pass out. Though, that would liven up the atmosphere a bit.

Under the steely gaze of doctor man, the jacket hath been removed. What the hell is that? Did Ford just give birth to a...a...hamster? Why am I always lost around these people? Personally, I don't see the family resemblance. One's kinda orangey with beady eyes while the other one is black with beady eyes. Ah, I see it now. It's all in the eyes. What? Stop shaking your head at me.

The hamster creature, whom I christen, Floyd, is busy inspecting the medical bed. What's that little yellow puddle? Oh, ick, that's just disgusting. Ford! There are places where one does that, you know. Grow up. The doc kicks him out, and keeps Floyd. Take that, soldier boy!

Dr. B is examining Floyd as Rod stumbles into the room. Could this possibly be the blood I've been waiting for? He's screaming that he's blind. Woohoo! Grandma told you not to sit that close to the TV screen. He says he was blinded by, uh, something. It sounded scientific and went right over my head. Behold! The trusty penlight hath been broken out. Bow down to its power. Dr. B says there is nothing wrong, and as soon as McKay opens his eyes, he can see. Gee, that was a miracle. One for the record books no doubt. Hey Rod, you do realize that next time you come into the infirmary, even if you have a hole where one eye used to be and a knife sticking out of the other one, Beckett will not pay any attention to you? I'll have to be here for that. Where's my appointment book?

Hey look, Floyd escaped. As Rod runs away exclaiming to everyone about the miracle that is Carson, the said doc is frantically searching for the little rodent. Oh, this is extremely amusing, a grown man crawling around on the floor, making cute little cooing noises. Any of you dimwits have a camera? Crikey! I need to get a camera. This would be great blackmail material. I think my day has finally picked up.

The doc's head pops up like a prairie dog as someone outside the door lets out a high pitch squeal. This could be the result of our microwaveable furball. Hey, I didn't say I would microwave it, just that it was possible. Are there even microwaves in this city? I'm sure the science geeks could manufacture something, or maybe a BBQ. I could go for a big juicy steak right about now but judging by the size of the Floyd, more like half of an appetizer. Yup, good 'ole whores de ovaries. What? That's what it says on the menu. See: hors d'oeuvres.

Dr. B makes good time running out into the hallway. Kind of like his ass is on fire. Which it will be if DEW catches Floyd before Dr. B does. Oh, that figures, its girly-man in the fetal position again. Before Beckett can ask the guy on the floor points towards the gate room. Floyd seems to be talking the 5¢ tour all by his lonesome, way to be assertive little buddy. Maybe I can strap a little camera to his head and then we'll have 'Creature Vision'.

Cut to gate room, Dr. B skids to a halt...almost. His shoe catches and he falls flat on his face. He bounces right back up. Yeah man, that was graceful. Just keep on walking, maybe no one noticed. Curious, nobody seems to be shrieking or standing on top of furniture in terror. Maybe that pony-tailed jerk was mistaken; it wouldn't be a stretch. I think he needs to take a little vacation to the PSGHW. On second thought, that wouldn't be much of a challenge for the PSG's. Hey, I bet they could find Floyd in an instant. Granted, they'd probably skewer him. That does seem to be their modus operandi.

Beckett is trying to act all nonchalant as he crawls around on the floor. I don't think its working. DEW comes out of her office summoned by all of the giggling and asks Carson what the hell he is doing. Ooh, nice cover, he says he looking for his lost contact lens. DEW, who I think is abusing her leader status, orders everyone within earshot to help Dr. B. They all respond like trained monkeys and hit the deck Military people crack me up.

With Floyd still AWOL, Dr. B sneakily crawls to the other side of the room and out the door. Everyone else is still searching the floor. That seems like a health hazard. Maybe someone will catch an alien plague. C'mon people, someone needs to fall ill, or be invaded by an alien entity. I don't even have popcorn, I need stimulation! Shep walks through the door not having a clue what everyone else is doing, shouts 'I'm game!' and drops to the ground. Wow, that is one very special person, and not in a good way. I'll come back to them later. Let's follow Beckett; he'll probably get into trouble soon.

Ah, he just crawled into McKay's lab. This should be interesting. Since Rod has regained his sight he's tinkering with a small round toy. Hey, those are cool; they're filled with a kind of glue...but more fun. Oh, this is going to be great. Genius boy doesn't see the doc crawl right behind him. He backs up into Beckett, losses his balance and grip on the glue ball. We all know what happens next. They look like a two headed crab. Somehow the glue ball got sandwiched in between them, so the guys are glued back to back.

Dr. B doesn't have a clue what just happened, and they are both trying to un-stick themselves. This is hysterical. If I had been drinking a cold beverage, it would have been streaming out of my nose by now. The only problem is someone forgot the snacks. Yes, you. Don't point to yourself and act all innocent. I even sent you a memo.

Praise be on high, they have managed to stand up...wait, they're down again. Never try to go your own way when adhered to another person. Wasn't that in the SG handbook? Well, it should be. It's a very important tip. You never know when you'll end up in your underwear out in the middle of the forest duct taped to someone you have never seen before...or was that just me?

Moving on, the glue brothers have made it to their feet again. Dr. B is still on his journey to catch Floyd, so he had to tell McKay what was going on. After a bit of grumbling, the science nerds agree to work together to find the hamster, then free themselves. Oh this is going to be fantastic. Ok guys, you're supposed to look inconspicuous. I don't think that's going to happen if you are crawling around on the floor glued together.

By process of elimination, Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum enter the jumper bay. Uh-oh, McKay just saw what he thought was Floyd, crawl into a jumper right before it took off. Houston, we have a problem. Unfortunately for the guys, the jumper has already taken off. I am so loving this. Looks like Floyd is going on a little trip to the mainland. I hope he remembered his sun screen. Those UV rays can be very hazardous.

Now how are you going to fly a jumper with Rod stuck to your back? For a couple of geniuses, theses science dudes can be really stupid. Bringing out the big guns, they call that little scientist man. Dr. Zlinky. Well, that wasn't very inventive, but I guess it works. Dr. Zlinky laughs his ass off at the pair then removes the pilot seat from the jumper. He's still laughing; I hope he doesn't explode. Then who would clean up all the goo? Bits and pieces of flesh stuck in the controls would not be pleasant.

After Zlinky runs away, Dr.'s B and McKay argue over who gets to fly. Hey, this might come to blows. Oh wait, they can't really reach other...damn. Dr. B wins when he threatens to tell DEW about Rod's little 'Liz' shrine. I love a good blackmail.

Sadly, they make it to the main land without injury. It was fun to watch Dr. B pilot the PJ with McKay trying to see where they were going. This isn't the Exorcist; you can't turn your head around that far. They land next to the other Puddle Jumper and scramble inside, looking for Floyd. Aw, poor guys, foiled again. You have to be smarter than the hamster to catch it. The explorer(s) search the immediate area, coming up empty handed.

Oh look, somehow the hatch to the jumper has locked. It wasn't me...scout's honor. What else could go wrong? Maybe some PSG's could make an appearance. Let's go see what they are up to.

WTF? The PSG's are sitting in a circle drinking tea? Is there any place the British haven't colonized? Seriously, those people need a better hobby. Like cricket…er…so much for that plan. My guys don't seem to be in the skewering mood. Yeah, that's right, eat another crumpet. If I hear any of you saying cheeri-oh, blood will be spilt.

I guess I'll have to find another way to amuse myself. Wait, why do I always have to be the decision maker? Why don't you decide? What do you mean you're only here for moral support? No decisions, no snack food, why do I even bring you along? Oh yeah, I remember, that whole missing eyebrows incident. But in my defense, how was I supposed to know hair gel was flammable?

Back to the action. The glue twins are trying to get back into the Jumper. Rod gets frustrated and kicks the thing, which causes him to overbalance; he tries to right himself, but falls over anyway. YES! Finally! Roddy crumbles as his and Beckett's combined weight snaps his ankle like a twig. It wasn't the blood and destruction that I was after, but I guess it will do.

This is great. Geek boy can't use his left leg. Dr. B has to take on the extra load. Let's review, shall we. Lost an alien hamster...Pinky and The Brain have glued themselves together...said duo is locked out of the PJ...search for Floyd has turned up nothing...The Brain broke his ankle. That about sums up a normal day for these two. How are they still alive?

I'll let them tinker with the ship for awhile. Let's see if the people are still searching the control room floor. Now that's different. They're making human pyramids. Don't you people have better things to do with your time? Like making me a sandwich? What? I'm hungry. A nice BLT would do the job right about now. You'll make me one? Really? Wait, what's the catch? No, no way! They're my entertainment. Fine.

I have traded the PJ's locking mechanism for a BLT. Totally worth it. Switching gears, the PJ has magically been fixed. Mmm...bacon. The sad three legged pair starts the flying Winnebago up and head back to Atlantis.

They are in deep trouble now. DEW is waiting for them, arms crossed, toe tapping. No wonder the PSG's are afraid of her. She doesn't even bat an eye at their appearance. The two exit the jumper on three legs, no, make that two. The guys have locked elbows and Dr. B is leaning forward, carrying Rod on his back. I wonder if I can hire Dr. B out as a pack mule. He could carry me down to the bottom of the Grand Canyon. I've always wanted to go there. Maybe I could take a day trip down there, pack a nice picnic lunch. Here's what you need: a Costco Polish dog with deli mustard, relish, onions and ketchup. This is how you do it. The ketchup goes on one side of the bun, the mustard goes on the other side, then the rest you pile on top... and a watermelon. Damn it, now I'm hungry.

DEW sends the guys to the infirmary to un-stick themselves. I know, set them on fire to burn up all the glue. It'll work. The flames will burn away all of the glue and presto, one man enters, two men leave. Who cares if the guys lose a few layers of skin, they'll be free. Yes, yes, I remember the eyebrow incident. But it was your idea to become a fire eater in the first place. All I did was light the stick...with lighter fluid.

The boys call Dr. Zlinky to help them with their endeavor. First, they try to pull themselves apart. Two assistants and one dislocated shoulder later, no luck. Next, they try all kinds of liquids. A lot of cursing and two drowned rats later, still no luck. Wait, is that what I think it is? Could it be? Possibly? Rejoice! My prayers have been answered. Break out the marshmallows; we're going to have a little bonfire.

Our sticky pair is covered in nonflammable gel. The fire dude burns the glue away little by little, pulling apart science boys as he goes. Half an hour later and covered head to toe in burnt smelling goo, we now have two separate individuals. And I have a s'more.

I just took a peek in the control room and the human pyramids seem to have fallen asleep on the floor. DEW is so going to kick all of your ass...wuh? Apparently she's taking a little nap herself. Shooting the look of doom at our favorite scientists must have taken a lot out of her. That trickle of drool is hot, oh yeah.

So, half of the city is drooling on the gateroom floor, two division heads are trying to de-goo themselves, and Floyd is still missing. Is this a good time to tell them that Floyd has been in Dr. B's lab coat pocket all this time? Nah let them suffer...it's more fun.

Stay Tuned for Next Week's Adventure...