Samantha Carter sits down on a stool, tucks her hair back behind her ears self-consciously, and clears her throat before looking directly at the camera...
"Hey McKay, I thought you'd like to know that the Air Force has adopted your compression program for standard use. They're calling it the 'McKay alga rhythm'." She pauses and looks down at the file in her hand with a grin. "Yeah, I thought you'd like that."
She looks back into the camera. "I've been reading over some of your reports. I see you've come up with a few (forming air quotes) 'insane ideas' of your own. You're an artist now, McKay. Welcome to the club. Actually, I think you always were one. You just lacked inspiration," she continues jokingly, "and there's nothing like imminent death to inspire you, right?" There's a long pause before she continues more seriously, "Stay safe, okay?…because there aren't that many of us around."
She starts to leave, then sits back down and leans into the camera...
"Oh, and by the way, some of the comments you made on your tape…I haven't decided yet whether I'm going to kiss you or kick your ass the next time I see you." She gives a wicked, eye-twinkling smile, "But I'm leaning toward kicking your ass."
The recording goes black.