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And Now For a Word...
~OR~ What are their numbers? By Taylor Dancinghands Disclaimer: According Intellectual Proprty Laws, someone owns these ideas, characters, scenarios, etc. and whoever that is it's not me. I'm playing with 'em anyway. So sue me. (Actually, no, please don't.) The three of them gathered around Radek's creation, their expressions ranging from dubious to curious as they gazed upon it, assesing. "I did not say that it would be beautiful," Radek protested at their less than confident expressions, "only that it would work." "Does it work then, luv?" asked Carson. "Does it work?!" Now the little Czech's dander was up. He'd certainly expected a better reception after all the hours he had spent. "Does it work, he asks! When SGC wishes to find someone to reverse engineer most sophisticated alien technology ever discovered, who do they call upon? When it is decided that this is needed so that Rodney's back remains functional, who is it that you ask to make it possible? Would I have called you all here if it did not work?" he concluded with all the wounded pride and righteous indignation he could muster. "Yes, yes," said Rodney in his best patronizing and indulgent tone, "We are all quite aware of your brilliance at this kind of tinkering. Still, do you think you might have been able to make it look a little less, oh I don't know, Frankenstein's monster-like?" "I am engineer, not seamstress!" Radek snapped. "Do you claim to be able to do better?" "No, of course not, luv," Carson placated. "And I'm sure no one will notice once it's all made up and all covered. I just don't know why we couldn't just have one special ordered from the factory instead of trying to cobble one up on our own. Surely that would have been simpler." "For the last time, Carson," Rodney sighed, exasperated, "they won't make a Sleep Number bed for three, no matter how nicely we ask." =FIN=
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