Title: Where The Wild Things Are
Author:
davechicken
Rating: PG
Genre: Gen, Humour
Spoilers: None
Summary: Sheppard has a cunning plan.
Word-Count: 2569
Notes: More than possibly influenced by the original movie. And all
alinak's fault. Thanks for the beta, and any mistakes remaining are all my own.
Disclaimer: So. Not. Mine.
Major Sheppard was crouched over his P90, life-signs indicator in one hand, held just above the sights. He toed his way carefully, his eyes flickering between the Ancient device and the terrain in front of him, the gentle rustling sound of the leaves under his boots the only audible indication he was there at all. He wasn’t quite wearing the right patterned uniform to blend in with the surroundings, his charcoal and black clothes the only minor discrepancy in the picture. Ford had to hand it to him, for an airman, he wasn’t bad.
The lieutenant followed close by, just a little to the right and behind, similarly crouched over his weapon, straining to hear anything other than the sound of their boots, the light breeze and birdsong in the far distance. The major gestured silently for him to come closer, without turning around. The movement caught his eye, and Ford immediately obeyed, coming to rest against the tree with him, the butt of his gun pressed into his shoulder, ready to spin it around and cover them at the slightest noise.
“I haven’t seen a blip on this thing since we left the village,” Sheppard said lowly, his voice pitched not to carry far. “I think we’re either in an uninhabited location, or it’s not calibrated to the locals.”
Ford nodded, pressing his lips together. “Perhaps we should follow Halling’s advice?”
“And lose the chance to do this our way? You kidding me, Ford?”
He laughed, under his breath, shook his head lightly. When it came to it, he much preferred ballistic weaponry, advanced detection technology and practised drill and procedure to hastily-imitated Athosian methodology, even if it did work for them. “No, Sir. Of course not.”
“Good.” The major frowned at the device again, then tucked it into his vest pocket. “We’ll just have to rely on our senses, instead.”
Aiden pressed his lips together and nodded. “Sir.”
They carried on in silence for a while, the trees blurring into trees blurring into…
“Sir?”
“Yes, Lieutenant?”
Ford tapped his fingers thoughtfully on the gunmetal, considering his next words very carefully. “Uh, we’ve been out here almost three hours now, and haven’t seen a thing.”
“You’re right.” The major stopped. “Suggestions?”
“We could head back to the village and ask for a guide?”
“And admit defeat? Do you have any idea how important this is?”
Ford really didn’t. He said as much.
Major Sheppard looked scandalised. “Lieutenant Ford. I am going to assume it’s just the excitement that’s gotten to you and explain, anyway. Aside from the fact that we might have to do this for real one day, and that practising here is safe and easy and a very good education exercise for everyone of us, we have an example to set for the men.”
“An example, Sir.” Ford did not sound convinced.
“Yes. You have no credibility as a leader if you ask your men to do something you’re not prepared to do yourself. It’s… bonding. You know?”
“And nothing to do with the competition elements. Sir.” He kept his voice completely level, the same professional expression on his face, as though he were discussing tracers or the like. You soon got to know which officers you could joke with, and which you couldn’t. Ford counted himself lucky in serving with Major Sheppard, in that respect. The man definitely had a sense of humour.
“Now, now, Lieutenant. If you’re so interested in that aspect, I’ll let you bring McKay and Kavanagh out on their run.”
“No, Sir. I understand,” he said, peering back through the underbrush, wondering if they would be here until after dark, at this rate. There was the small bonus that they weren’t under threat of imminent Wraith attack, but he was beginning to wish someone or something would turn up, just to relieve the tedium and he was all but whooping when, a few minutes later, the major got a blip, blip.
He watched carefully as the major signalled, nodding his comprehension, and they split up slightly, attention fixed fully forwards in the direction of the life-sign ahead. Ford lightly brushed his finger over the safety catch, reassuring himself of the distance, though he knew it in his sleep.
He contemplated dropping to the floor, but he had no idea what was up ahead. It could be one of the villagers, out alone far from home – or it could be something else entirely. He might be less visible on his stomach, but he was also a lot more vulnerable, and retreating in a hurry would be nigh on impossible. He settled for crouching low behind a bush which prickled at his legs, even through his BDUs, squinting at where the creature had been mere moments before.
At first, he couldn’t see anything but grass, bushes, dirt, stone and trees – which was all he’d seen for most of the day, since they’d taken the jumper out this morning. Then, against the scrub, he saw the great, lumbering beast.
It had to stand six foot to the shoulder, at the very least, and from where Ford was standing, it looked like it wasn’t much less than that across, either. Four strong, stocky-looking legs ending in huge, curved claws; small, dark eyes with slits like a cat under the heavily horned brows stared back at him, and Ford sat stock still in case it noticed him. The snout was large and squat, two enormous nostrils sniffing almost continuously – scenting the air, possibly. But that wasn’t what Ford was concentrating most on. It was the four huge, yellow-brown teeth protruding from that snout, two on either side. They looked particularly nasty, and he knew for a fact he’d rather not have them anywhere near his person. At all. Ever.
It was five minutes, give or take, before he was certain the beast hadn’t noticed him, and only a few minutes longer until the major was crawling up beside him, encouraging him to move uphill a little. Ford did so happily.
“Opinions?”
“It’s nothing like anything Halling or Teyla told us about, Sir. Could possibly be fast over short-distances, eyesight likely not impressive, sense of smell probably predominant.”
“That’s what I thought. Now. How do we take it…?”
The major already knew their inventory, but he occasionally liked to think aloud. Ford had no objection to that at all, especially as it meant he knew what the man in charge was thinking, which was occasionally marginally more comforting than not. Right now, it wasn’t anything especially surprising.
Apart from the bit about no shooting it directly. Ford hadn’t been especially pleased when the major told him they weren’t going to use their guns.
“The Athosians don’t use guns,” he pointed out.
“That’s only because they don’t have any, Sir.”
“They do since we got here. No. If we’re doing this, we’re doing it right. And that means no lead in the game – especially if we’re planning on eating it.”
Sheppard then licked his finger, holding it up to check the direction of the wind. If Ford didn’t know better, he’d think that the major was indulging in a little more wish-fulfilment than practical fieldcraft. There were, however, much worse things he could have dragged Ford off to than a little manly hunting of Atlantean death cows.
“Now. The first thing we should do is find an enclosure to herd it into.” He tapped out a brief map between the leaves and the fallen twigs underfoot. “Here,” he said, indicating the space between a yellowing horse chestnut leaf and the curl of a root breaching the surface, “I noticed there’s a sheer bank about twenty feet up. And if my memory serves me, not long after’s the river. I’m thinking if we try to herd it alongside and down to the river, we can lay a trap for it there.”
“You thinking we should use the flashbangs to startle it?”
Any doubts Ford had harboured with regards to his C.O.’s motives disappeared as soon as the patented John Sheppard death grin was deployed.
The Space Cow didn’t have a chance.
***
“…and just remember to load it as I told you and everything should be fine.”
“McKay, what are you doing here?”
Doctor McKay looked up from the earnest conversation he’d been holding with some of the Athosians, looking arch.
“Conducting a performance of Handel’s Messiah performed solely by middle-aged married women on the tooth and comb, what does it look like?” Before he gave them a chance to reply, though, he told them anyway. “If you must know, I’m actually helping to install the solar powered food storage units that Radek modified. Why, is the mainland only for full-blooded American machismo, these days?”
Ford had to smile at that, and even the major did, rolling his eyes. “Nope. This is just a little something we rustled up.”
“Oh please, spare me the bad jokes. It’s bad enough that you’re running off to rub yourself all over the sweaty beasts until you come back bow-legged and smelling of yak without having to hear all about it too.”
“Now now, Rodney. You know you’re just jealous I took Ford and not you. Never you mind him, Lieutenant,” Sheppard replied, with an arched brow in his direction. Ford shook his head.
“This is your brilliant idea about sending people off to hunt the local wildlife, despite us having evolved beyond that stage and into the tertiary phase, where we can comfortably trade goods and services, rather than provide for ourselves?”
“Hey – this could save your ass one day, McKay. Just think about it next time you’re eating your hamburgers. Isn’t that right, Ford?”
“Sir.”
The scientist rolled his eyes, arms folded across his chest. “Of course. How idiotic of me to think that I will never be in a situation where I cannot use my native wit to feed and provide for myself, and instead have to rely on brute force.”
“Brute force?” The major slapped the animal’s broad neck, and it shuddered along its sweat-damp flank, head held low and panting. “Lieutenant Ford, do you think Doctor McKay needs telling what we did?”
“I believe it might be wise, Sir, yes.” If he had to tag along every step of the way, he didn’t see a reason anyone should escape without hearing the major bray on about his hunting prowess. McKay rocked his head from side to side in a show of annoyance Ford wasn’t sure was all that genuine – he and Sheppard enjoyed their bickering too much for him to take them seriously most of the time when they were like this.
“And how did I know it was coming?”
The major ignored him. “First, we had to track it down, without letting it know we were coming – and we’re talking several miles following its traces…”
All of which was, actually, a blatant lie. Not that he was going to contradict it.
“Then, when we found it, we drove it along the side of a cliff for a good mile and a half, right into our trap. This was when we managed to harness it using nothing but rope and our own hands, and I rode it through the river and back, bareback, I might add, all the while avoiding being thrown and gored to death, until I finally broke it.”
The man looked so smug he’d probably been taking lessons from McKay himself. At least this time his story was mostly accurate. Even if it missed out the part where he’d tried to drop on the beast from a small, squat tree and wound up on his ass. And the part where he’d tried to muzzle it and had his hand chomped on. And the part where he’d dropped his P90 and it fired until it jammed and would probably need more than a simple strip, clean and assemble to get operational again. But it was mostly accurate.
Far from being awed and impressed, McKay snorted disdainfully in a way that seemed a little too derisive to be automatic.
“That. You spent how long hunting that?”
“How long were we gone, Ford?”
“Five hours, Sir.”
“Five hours. How many vicious beasts have you broken in today, McKay?”
“One naquadah generator, Kavanagh and this,” he said, hitting the suspiciously pacifistic square white box of a vicious beast. Then he moved over to the Space Bull and held his hand out, palm up, under its snout.
“MCKAY!”
The major tried to move between the doctor and the beast, shielding him with his body and yanking hard on the handmade reins. There was a snort and a noise of wounded protest from the creature, which led to…
McKay slapping the major around an ear.
“Stop that, you big oaf!” he said, and wrestled the reins from the surprised airman.
Ford hefted his weapon uneasily, wondering if he should steal them back.
“Uh, Doctor, that’s a fairly mean animal there.”
“Of course she’s unhappy. You’ve been making loud noises around her and god knows what else. Aren’t they mean and horrible? Stupid posing men with their need to assert their masculinity due to insecurity… there, there…”
The last was said to the animal he was now stroking – hand under its jaw rubbing along the dewlap as he tried to unfasten the hastily fastened rope with the other. The animal made a low, rumbly noise and chewed helpfully at McKay’s shirt. To Ford’s surprise, the man didn’t even snap at it.
“Rodney?” The major made it sound like two words, his voice low and ‘you’ve got some explaining to do, so step away from the scary beast’.
“How could you honestly think it was dangerous, Major? It’s a tamed herbivore – even the children play with them, here. Whistle, Lieutenant.”
Ford looked between them. When Sheppard nodded, he whistled.
The beast lumbered over to him, and stopped just in front of him, sniffing.
“See? It comes on command. You could just have whistled and it would have followed you home.”
The major frowned, not looking convinced. He folded his arms, his gun resting on his leg. “And what about those teeth? Do those look like a herbivore’s teeth?”
“Have you seen an elephant? It’s conjecture, but it’s possible it uses them to shred bark, or to mine for salt, even. Honestly, Major, you’ve successfully spent a day hunting and tracking a domesticated animal. Please explain to me how this would help you survive in the wild?”
Ford took off his cap, closing his eyes. So much for earning the respect of their men… He’d wasted an entire day.
The major didn’t look much happier.
“They had to become domesticated at some point,” he grumbled, even as the now-docile creature started sniffing experimentally at his hair. Sheppard batted it away.
“Well, I know who to call if I need a wildcat beating into submission, at least. Though do keep your eye out, I’ve been thinking we could do with some animals, eventually…”
“Oh shut up, McKay.”
“And I thought I heard something scurrying in the commissary last night. Perhaps you could search and destroy any rodents we have…”
“I said, shut up.”
Ford watched as the two men headed back for the jumper, still arguing, and handed over the cow to one of the Athosian women, who just looked confused.
That was the last time he listened to one of Major Sheppard’s bright ideas.
Author:
Rating: PG
Genre: Gen, Humour
Spoilers: None
Summary: Sheppard has a cunning plan.
Word-Count: 2569
Notes: More than possibly influenced by the original movie. And all
Disclaimer: So. Not. Mine.
Major Sheppard was crouched over his P90, life-signs indicator in one hand, held just above the sights. He toed his way carefully, his eyes flickering between the Ancient device and the terrain in front of him, the gentle rustling sound of the leaves under his boots the only audible indication he was there at all. He wasn’t quite wearing the right patterned uniform to blend in with the surroundings, his charcoal and black clothes the only minor discrepancy in the picture. Ford had to hand it to him, for an airman, he wasn’t bad.
The lieutenant followed close by, just a little to the right and behind, similarly crouched over his weapon, straining to hear anything other than the sound of their boots, the light breeze and birdsong in the far distance. The major gestured silently for him to come closer, without turning around. The movement caught his eye, and Ford immediately obeyed, coming to rest against the tree with him, the butt of his gun pressed into his shoulder, ready to spin it around and cover them at the slightest noise.
“I haven’t seen a blip on this thing since we left the village,” Sheppard said lowly, his voice pitched not to carry far. “I think we’re either in an uninhabited location, or it’s not calibrated to the locals.”
Ford nodded, pressing his lips together. “Perhaps we should follow Halling’s advice?”
“And lose the chance to do this our way? You kidding me, Ford?”
He laughed, under his breath, shook his head lightly. When it came to it, he much preferred ballistic weaponry, advanced detection technology and practised drill and procedure to hastily-imitated Athosian methodology, even if it did work for them. “No, Sir. Of course not.”
“Good.” The major frowned at the device again, then tucked it into his vest pocket. “We’ll just have to rely on our senses, instead.”
Aiden pressed his lips together and nodded. “Sir.”
They carried on in silence for a while, the trees blurring into trees blurring into…
“Sir?”
“Yes, Lieutenant?”
Ford tapped his fingers thoughtfully on the gunmetal, considering his next words very carefully. “Uh, we’ve been out here almost three hours now, and haven’t seen a thing.”
“You’re right.” The major stopped. “Suggestions?”
“We could head back to the village and ask for a guide?”
“And admit defeat? Do you have any idea how important this is?”
Ford really didn’t. He said as much.
Major Sheppard looked scandalised. “Lieutenant Ford. I am going to assume it’s just the excitement that’s gotten to you and explain, anyway. Aside from the fact that we might have to do this for real one day, and that practising here is safe and easy and a very good education exercise for everyone of us, we have an example to set for the men.”
“An example, Sir.” Ford did not sound convinced.
“Yes. You have no credibility as a leader if you ask your men to do something you’re not prepared to do yourself. It’s… bonding. You know?”
“And nothing to do with the competition elements. Sir.” He kept his voice completely level, the same professional expression on his face, as though he were discussing tracers or the like. You soon got to know which officers you could joke with, and which you couldn’t. Ford counted himself lucky in serving with Major Sheppard, in that respect. The man definitely had a sense of humour.
“Now, now, Lieutenant. If you’re so interested in that aspect, I’ll let you bring McKay and Kavanagh out on their run.”
“No, Sir. I understand,” he said, peering back through the underbrush, wondering if they would be here until after dark, at this rate. There was the small bonus that they weren’t under threat of imminent Wraith attack, but he was beginning to wish someone or something would turn up, just to relieve the tedium and he was all but whooping when, a few minutes later, the major got a blip, blip.
He watched carefully as the major signalled, nodding his comprehension, and they split up slightly, attention fixed fully forwards in the direction of the life-sign ahead. Ford lightly brushed his finger over the safety catch, reassuring himself of the distance, though he knew it in his sleep.
He contemplated dropping to the floor, but he had no idea what was up ahead. It could be one of the villagers, out alone far from home – or it could be something else entirely. He might be less visible on his stomach, but he was also a lot more vulnerable, and retreating in a hurry would be nigh on impossible. He settled for crouching low behind a bush which prickled at his legs, even through his BDUs, squinting at where the creature had been mere moments before.
At first, he couldn’t see anything but grass, bushes, dirt, stone and trees – which was all he’d seen for most of the day, since they’d taken the jumper out this morning. Then, against the scrub, he saw the great, lumbering beast.
It had to stand six foot to the shoulder, at the very least, and from where Ford was standing, it looked like it wasn’t much less than that across, either. Four strong, stocky-looking legs ending in huge, curved claws; small, dark eyes with slits like a cat under the heavily horned brows stared back at him, and Ford sat stock still in case it noticed him. The snout was large and squat, two enormous nostrils sniffing almost continuously – scenting the air, possibly. But that wasn’t what Ford was concentrating most on. It was the four huge, yellow-brown teeth protruding from that snout, two on either side. They looked particularly nasty, and he knew for a fact he’d rather not have them anywhere near his person. At all. Ever.
It was five minutes, give or take, before he was certain the beast hadn’t noticed him, and only a few minutes longer until the major was crawling up beside him, encouraging him to move uphill a little. Ford did so happily.
“Opinions?”
“It’s nothing like anything Halling or Teyla told us about, Sir. Could possibly be fast over short-distances, eyesight likely not impressive, sense of smell probably predominant.”
“That’s what I thought. Now. How do we take it…?”
The major already knew their inventory, but he occasionally liked to think aloud. Ford had no objection to that at all, especially as it meant he knew what the man in charge was thinking, which was occasionally marginally more comforting than not. Right now, it wasn’t anything especially surprising.
Apart from the bit about no shooting it directly. Ford hadn’t been especially pleased when the major told him they weren’t going to use their guns.
“The Athosians don’t use guns,” he pointed out.
“That’s only because they don’t have any, Sir.”
“They do since we got here. No. If we’re doing this, we’re doing it right. And that means no lead in the game – especially if we’re planning on eating it.”
Sheppard then licked his finger, holding it up to check the direction of the wind. If Ford didn’t know better, he’d think that the major was indulging in a little more wish-fulfilment than practical fieldcraft. There were, however, much worse things he could have dragged Ford off to than a little manly hunting of Atlantean death cows.
“Now. The first thing we should do is find an enclosure to herd it into.” He tapped out a brief map between the leaves and the fallen twigs underfoot. “Here,” he said, indicating the space between a yellowing horse chestnut leaf and the curl of a root breaching the surface, “I noticed there’s a sheer bank about twenty feet up. And if my memory serves me, not long after’s the river. I’m thinking if we try to herd it alongside and down to the river, we can lay a trap for it there.”
“You thinking we should use the flashbangs to startle it?”
Any doubts Ford had harboured with regards to his C.O.’s motives disappeared as soon as the patented John Sheppard death grin was deployed.
The Space Cow didn’t have a chance.
***
“…and just remember to load it as I told you and everything should be fine.”
“McKay, what are you doing here?”
Doctor McKay looked up from the earnest conversation he’d been holding with some of the Athosians, looking arch.
“Conducting a performance of Handel’s Messiah performed solely by middle-aged married women on the tooth and comb, what does it look like?” Before he gave them a chance to reply, though, he told them anyway. “If you must know, I’m actually helping to install the solar powered food storage units that Radek modified. Why, is the mainland only for full-blooded American machismo, these days?”
Ford had to smile at that, and even the major did, rolling his eyes. “Nope. This is just a little something we rustled up.”
“Oh please, spare me the bad jokes. It’s bad enough that you’re running off to rub yourself all over the sweaty beasts until you come back bow-legged and smelling of yak without having to hear all about it too.”
“Now now, Rodney. You know you’re just jealous I took Ford and not you. Never you mind him, Lieutenant,” Sheppard replied, with an arched brow in his direction. Ford shook his head.
“This is your brilliant idea about sending people off to hunt the local wildlife, despite us having evolved beyond that stage and into the tertiary phase, where we can comfortably trade goods and services, rather than provide for ourselves?”
“Hey – this could save your ass one day, McKay. Just think about it next time you’re eating your hamburgers. Isn’t that right, Ford?”
“Sir.”
The scientist rolled his eyes, arms folded across his chest. “Of course. How idiotic of me to think that I will never be in a situation where I cannot use my native wit to feed and provide for myself, and instead have to rely on brute force.”
“Brute force?” The major slapped the animal’s broad neck, and it shuddered along its sweat-damp flank, head held low and panting. “Lieutenant Ford, do you think Doctor McKay needs telling what we did?”
“I believe it might be wise, Sir, yes.” If he had to tag along every step of the way, he didn’t see a reason anyone should escape without hearing the major bray on about his hunting prowess. McKay rocked his head from side to side in a show of annoyance Ford wasn’t sure was all that genuine – he and Sheppard enjoyed their bickering too much for him to take them seriously most of the time when they were like this.
“And how did I know it was coming?”
The major ignored him. “First, we had to track it down, without letting it know we were coming – and we’re talking several miles following its traces…”
All of which was, actually, a blatant lie. Not that he was going to contradict it.
“Then, when we found it, we drove it along the side of a cliff for a good mile and a half, right into our trap. This was when we managed to harness it using nothing but rope and our own hands, and I rode it through the river and back, bareback, I might add, all the while avoiding being thrown and gored to death, until I finally broke it.”
The man looked so smug he’d probably been taking lessons from McKay himself. At least this time his story was mostly accurate. Even if it missed out the part where he’d tried to drop on the beast from a small, squat tree and wound up on his ass. And the part where he’d tried to muzzle it and had his hand chomped on. And the part where he’d dropped his P90 and it fired until it jammed and would probably need more than a simple strip, clean and assemble to get operational again. But it was mostly accurate.
Far from being awed and impressed, McKay snorted disdainfully in a way that seemed a little too derisive to be automatic.
“That. You spent how long hunting that?”
“How long were we gone, Ford?”
“Five hours, Sir.”
“Five hours. How many vicious beasts have you broken in today, McKay?”
“One naquadah generator, Kavanagh and this,” he said, hitting the suspiciously pacifistic square white box of a vicious beast. Then he moved over to the Space Bull and held his hand out, palm up, under its snout.
“MCKAY!”
The major tried to move between the doctor and the beast, shielding him with his body and yanking hard on the handmade reins. There was a snort and a noise of wounded protest from the creature, which led to…
McKay slapping the major around an ear.
“Stop that, you big oaf!” he said, and wrestled the reins from the surprised airman.
Ford hefted his weapon uneasily, wondering if he should steal them back.
“Uh, Doctor, that’s a fairly mean animal there.”
“Of course she’s unhappy. You’ve been making loud noises around her and god knows what else. Aren’t they mean and horrible? Stupid posing men with their need to assert their masculinity due to insecurity… there, there…”
The last was said to the animal he was now stroking – hand under its jaw rubbing along the dewlap as he tried to unfasten the hastily fastened rope with the other. The animal made a low, rumbly noise and chewed helpfully at McKay’s shirt. To Ford’s surprise, the man didn’t even snap at it.
“Rodney?” The major made it sound like two words, his voice low and ‘you’ve got some explaining to do, so step away from the scary beast’.
“How could you honestly think it was dangerous, Major? It’s a tamed herbivore – even the children play with them, here. Whistle, Lieutenant.”
Ford looked between them. When Sheppard nodded, he whistled.
The beast lumbered over to him, and stopped just in front of him, sniffing.
“See? It comes on command. You could just have whistled and it would have followed you home.”
The major frowned, not looking convinced. He folded his arms, his gun resting on his leg. “And what about those teeth? Do those look like a herbivore’s teeth?”
“Have you seen an elephant? It’s conjecture, but it’s possible it uses them to shred bark, or to mine for salt, even. Honestly, Major, you’ve successfully spent a day hunting and tracking a domesticated animal. Please explain to me how this would help you survive in the wild?”
Ford took off his cap, closing his eyes. So much for earning the respect of their men… He’d wasted an entire day.
The major didn’t look much happier.
“They had to become domesticated at some point,” he grumbled, even as the now-docile creature started sniffing experimentally at his hair. Sheppard batted it away.
“Well, I know who to call if I need a wildcat beating into submission, at least. Though do keep your eye out, I’ve been thinking we could do with some animals, eventually…”
“Oh shut up, McKay.”
“And I thought I heard something scurrying in the commissary last night. Perhaps you could search and destroy any rodents we have…”
“I said, shut up.”
Ford watched as the two men headed back for the jumper, still arguing, and handed over the cow to one of the Athosian women, who just looked confused.
That was the last time he listened to one of Major Sheppard’s bright ideas.
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Date: 2005-04-16 12:38 am (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2005-04-16 03:00 am (UTC)There were, however, much worse things he could have dragged Ford off to than a little manly hunting of Atlantean death cows.
*g*
the whole paragraph about it being mostly true was too funny :)
when McKay was petting it, i was giggling, but:
It’s a tamed herbivore – even the children play with them
Ahahaha!!!!
(no subject)
Date: 2005-04-16 04:16 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-04-16 03:51 am (UTC)+gigglesnort+ Priceless! Rodney must love popping John's bubble. That was just great. Well Done!
(no subject)
Date: 2005-04-16 04:19 pm (UTC)Thank you kindly!
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Date: 2005-04-16 01:32 pm (UTC)Jo
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Date: 2005-04-18 12:43 am (UTC)