J is for Jack

"Jack."

Jack hated when General Hammond used his first name: it was always bad news. It was always Jack, you shouldn't have done this, or Jack, I have bad news. The only thing that was worse than his CO starting a sentence with "Jack" was when he said "son". The word "son" from the General meant that all was lost.

"Yes sir?" Jack responded, tracing an s-pattern on the general's large desk and avoiding eye contact with his CO. He thought to himself that maybe if he was very casual about it, it would be okay news. Magical thinking was something that Jack's Air Force trained brain usually didn't indulge in, but what the hell, whatever floated a boat was better than sinking.

The general continued mercilessly.

"You're very behind on your paperwork, and I know you're busy, but it's becoming a concern. I need those reports. The Pentagon is breathing down my neck."

Jack leaned back in defeat and sighed dramatically, causing the General to smile affectionately at the obviously exaggerated act.

"Jack," Hammond intoned seriously, (and there was that name again), "I know you hate this. But it is part of the job."

"Yes sir," Jack responded dutifully, now making eye contact, "but can I just point out that paperwork should be classified as torture, and I think you should talk to the president about it."

"Sure I will, Jack, but you're not off the hook."

Jack huffed demonstrably. Jack. He really hated that name.