"Help," Robin mouthed when he entered the kitchen.

"Jack, can I help you?" Daniel offered politely.

"Um…" Jack thought rapidly. "Yes. Do you know anything about turkey?"

Daniel stared at him, and finally realizing that the question was borne of desperation, not jest, answered slowly. "Well, um, not much. What do you need?"

Jack opened the oven door, displaying an odd looking bird. "How do you tell when it is done in the middle?" he wondered.

Daniel scratched his nose. "I think there's some kind of formula – so many minutes per pound of turkey."

"What is it?" Jack asked eagerly.

Daniel shrugged. "Sam or Janet might know," he offered, but Jack shook his head. "Never. Any other ideas?"

"I'll get on the web and find out," Robin volunteered. She headed off to the study.

"Good idea," Jack hollered after her. "Anything else?" Daniel asked, surveying the kitchen. He was no expert, but it did not look to him like dinner was anywhere near ready.

"Biscuits. I need biscuits," Jack said. He pointed to the refrigerator. "There are tubes of them in there."

Daniel opened the door and sprang back as everything, it seemed, broke loose and tumbled out onto the floor.

Jack surveyed the mess with an astounded look. "What did you do?" he asked incredulously.

Daniel threw up his hands. "I didn't do anything! Ick," he added, stepping back as a potent smell met his nose. "What is that?"

Jack pushed things around with his foot. "Black bean garlic sauce," he announced, picking a bottle with a broken cap up and reading the label.

"What in the world do you have that for?" Daniel asked, crying from the smell.

"I have no idea," Jack admitted, tossing it in the trash. "Maybe the girls put it there."

That was certainly possible, Daniel reasoned. The girls had been known to do weirder things.

Robin came back into the room. "Fifteen minutes per pound," she announced. Peering into the oven, she asked skeptically, "When did you put it in?"

"An hour ago," Jack told her hopefully. Robin turned to him suspiciously. "How big is it?" she asked.

"I don't know," Jack admitted. He leaned over into the trash can and began fishing around for the wrapper. It was then Robin noticed the mess.

"Ye gods! What did you do?" she exclaimed. Jack growled at Daniel. "He did it."

"I opened the door and everything fell out," Daniel defended.

"The shelf broke," Robin observed, picking up the broken piece out of the mess. "Alright. Daniel, you pick everything up and wipe it off. I'll go get a mop. What is that smell?" she asked as Jack in his rummaging bumped the broken can.

"Black bean garlic sauce," Jack told her. "DO you know anything about that?"

Robin shook her head, her eyes watering up. "No. Wait! Yes, it's Aisha's. She uses it to cook thai food."

"I knew that was a dangerous hobby," Jack mumbled.

Daniel had just picked up all the containers when Jack exclaimed "Ah hah!" and held up the turkey wrapper with a triumphant air. "It's twenty pounds!" he announced.

Robin did some quick math in her head and swallowed. "It won't be ready for another four hours," she told Jack as tactfully as possible.

Jack stared at her in horror.

"I am sunk," he moaned. Then, seizing on an idea, he asked, "I don't suppose I could turn the oven on really, really high and at least cook enough of the outside to serve?"

Robin was doubtful, but Daniel was hopeful. "It's worth a shot," he figured.

Jack spun the temperature dial on the oven and closed the door.

"Let's see if that works," he prayed.

The phone rang and Robin answered it. "Hello? Oh, hi, General Hammond. Um, no, we haven't eaten yet. No, no," she hastily added. "Of course we'll wait for you! How could we not wait for you?

"No, nobody's starving," she reassured him. Jack listened to the conversation and promised himself that he's reward her richly. "We'll wait till you get here. Take your time. Drive safely. Bye."

Robin hung up the phone and turned around. "He's stuck in traffic," she told Jack.

"Alright, folks, let's move!" Jack turned to the stove. "Daniel, do biscuits. Robin, help me fix the side dishes. We'll wait till the general gets here and then we'll carve the bird."

"Okay." Daniel opened the fridge – cautiously, this time. "Pillsbury?" he called over his shoulder, laughing. "You're doing a full thanksgiving feast and you're serving pillsbury pop and serve?"

Jack glared. "Don't push it, Danny boy."

Daniel got busy smashing biscuit cans against the counter.