"As I stated in my earlier communiqué, General Hammond, we are at an impasse, and would greatly appreciate assistance in resolving this conflict." The being, Culshta of Pamperius, looked around the room. Each face it encountered expressed different levels of interest. Samantha Carter looked slightly sympathetic and open to the assignment. Her eyes darted between General Hammond, Daniel, Teal�c and Jack. Daniel Jackson squinted his eyes and seemed to be forming different vowel sounds with his lips in deep thought. Teal�c maintained his suave "I could kill you a dozen different ways" look.

Jack sat with his elbow on the table, his cheek held up by two fingers and a thumb, an authoritative look on his face. I can�t believe they allowed it to happen, Jack thought to himself, staring at the wall directly behind the being. I can�t believe they let Hasek go off to play for the stinkin� Red Wings. Now I gotta watch the Wings go through the another season, and I gotta listen to Grapes rant about the old standard bearers of Detroit: Yzerman, Shanahan, Federov, Chelios, and now Hasek? I mean, for crying out loud,...

"Who decided that was a good trade?" Jack questioned out loud. He scanned the room to see if anyone had heard him. They had. Every eye was focused directly on him.

Okay, back it up, Jack told himself. Rewind. What were we talking about?

"Excuse me, Colonel?" General Hammond asked confused.

Daniel straightened up a little and presented an explanation for Jack�s outburst. "I think, if I may so bold as to interpret your obviously insightful ... inquiry," Daniel began, turning to Jack to gain his permission to pick up the ball that Jack had unintentionally created, brought to the game and subsequently dropped. Jack closed his eyes and nodded deferentially. "I believe what the colonel was questioning was..." He had no idea what to say, but remembered the old trick of elongating vowels in order to buy time. "...theeeeeee traaaaaaaade you maaaaaaaaaade with the Pamperians in exchange for their freedom."

Jack slammed one hand on the table and pointed to Daniel. "Yes. That," he agreed and then assumed the authoritative look again. He hated these briefings. Especially ones where mealy-mouthed, knee-biting, milque-toast beings with one too many orifices in their heads came crawling with their hats in their many hands asking for help.

"We created the Pamperians with the expressed intentions of giving them their freedom in exchange for their allegiance. We believe this sense of duty to one�s benefactor comes only through personal freedom," Culshta informed the team, his upper oral cavity taking over the conversation.

"That sounds a great deal like our own society, sir...ma�am..." offered the general, totally unsure which cavity to be looking at or which set of eyes, for that matter.

"It is, in fact, based on the theories of Democratic Laws given to us a millennium ago by our creators." said the being. "We believe we have given the Pamperians their freedom without having fully understood the Laws in their entirety. We hoped the Pamperians would create a peaceful world of co-existence without the need for regulations. We were, as we have found out, wrong in assuming that freedom would be enough."

"But with any society based on Democratic principles, certain social mores must be understood before the fragile balance between freedom and duty can exist," offered Sam, taking a certain amount of pride in her own word-smithing ability. And Daniel thought he was the keeper of all things lingual, she thought. She ventured further, "Can we assume this has become the over-riding problem? That these creations of yours are in need of more of these�more of these..."

"Mores?" Jack sardonically finished her question.

"Yes, thank you," Sam countered dourly. Stick to physics, she thought.

"We believe that is where you will be of most benefit to us. We ask that you return to Pamperius with us in order to help establish a more peaceful civilization."

Jack looked the being over. The juxtaposition of the word civilized and the presence of this being were ironic. And who is the other half of this "us" it keeps referring to? wondered Jack.

"You will have our decision by tomorrow. At that time, we will send a message through the Stargate," General Hammond stated as he stood to signal the meeting was over. Culshta rose, bowed its heads and left the briefing room, escorted by the lieutenant at guard. "Well, SG1, this is your call. How would you like to proceed?" he asked taking his seat again.

"Through the Stargate, sir," Jack said brightly. "Saves us a lot of travel time that way." Sam and Daniel shook their heads. Some of his jokes were starting to wear thin. Jack looked a little disappointed. "Come on! It was a little bit funny?"

"Sir, early readings sent back by our probes are telling us that it's a carbon-based planet," Sam reported to the general. "The air quality seems sufficient. We'll have a better idea when the last probe makes it back, but my guess is we'll be fine."

"My own investigation finds there is no advanced weaponry on the planet," Teal'c offered. "I concur with Major Carter that we will be safe."

General Hammond looked at Daniel to receive his report.

"Me? I'm always game," he said, squinting his eyes, wondering what the confusion was about.

It was up to Jack to decide if his team would once again walk into a situation where they would meet the unknown. He looked over his team. They were still so young, so full of energy, so full of themselves. Did they even know who Gordie Howe is? He suspected none of them had ever seen a hockey game where helmets weren't worn. On the other hand, it had taken Jack a couple years to get used to the awkward feel of the helmet. He wore the damn thing, but, in defiance, he never snapped the strap in place. He liked his new skates though.

"Colonel?" General Hammond called out, waiting for Jack's answer.

"Yes, sir!" Jack responded out of habit.

"Then you have a go, SG1," General Hammond granted them. "0800 tomorrow, you'll gate to Pamperius." He closed his folder and excused himself. Sam, Teal'c and Daniel closed their folders smiling.

Jack darted his eyes between them confused. "What just happened?" Jack asked pensively.

Sam looked at him a little concerned. "You agreed that we should go to Pamperius," she told him, ready to call Dr. Fraiser to tell her to warm up the cat scanner.

"I did? Ah, yes, I did." Jack lowered his eyes and shook his head trying to remember how that had come to pass. He closed his folder and met them at the door.

Daniel held his folder in front of himself. He looked at Jack over the rims of his glasses. "Say, Jack, big game tonight?" he asked sarcastically, knowing full well that was what Jack had been concentrating on instead of the Pamperian representative.

"Oh, yeah!" Jack stated breathlessly. "Red Wings and Saint Louis. You want to come over and watch it?"

"Uh, noooo," Daniel answered churlishly.

"I'll buy the pizza."

"No."

"And the beer."

"No."

"You can bring a book."

"Okay."

"I like that about you, Daniel. You're not easy, but we can always discuss it," Jack told him striding in front of the team. "The rest of you are invited as well. Carter, wear something red."

"Sir?" Sam asked a little offended.

"Red, for the Winged Wheelers. I'll wear blue. I think you know why," he said giving her a sly smile, and then he turned into his office. Sam smiled in embarrassment.

*****

"They were robbed!" Jack exclaimed as he entered the embarkation room. Daniel, Teal'c and Sam followed along behind him. Sam and Daniel shook their heads, fed up with the constant rehashing of the game's outcome.

"O'Neill. To whom are you referring?" asked Teal'c.

Daniel's head shot up. He grabbed Teal'c's arm. "No. Teal'c..."

"St. Louis, T," Jack answered, grateful that someone had finally taken the bait.

"How were they robbed, O'Neill?"

Sam stepped in front of Teal'c. "Teal'c, I beg you not to ask..."

"They were robbed by the stinking refs, that's how," Jack insisted. He saw General Hammond enter the room. "They had all but won the game when the ref called a major..."

"Colonel?"

"General?"

"Just came down to see you off," the senior officer said.

"Why don't you join us on this one, sir?" Jack asked exuberantly.

"Will you be discussing hockey?" asked General Hammond.

"You bet."

"Have a good trip, SG1," General Hammond called as he waved to them on his way out of the embarkation room. Jack looked hurt.

The four members of SG1 were bathed in the blue light of the wormhole engaging. They walked up the ramp. Daniel and Teal'c stepped through casually. Sam was about to put her foot into the energy field when Jack pulled her back.

"Carter, am I the only one who likes hockey?" he asked, the revelation astounding to him.

Sam eyed him carefully knowing her response might hurt his feelings. She chose her words carefully.

"Uh, yah! Hello?!" she told him, and then proceeded through the Stargate. Dejected, Jack grabbed his P90 for comfort and followed his 2IC.

Once safely on the other side, SG1 was met by a landscape cluttered with rocks and branches and makeshift eating utensils strewn carelessly about. The atmosphere reeked of chaos. And then there was the noise, previously unheard on their probe recordings. It was like sheet metal being ripped away from the side of a building, and just when Jack and his team thought it couldn't get any worse, it did.

"What the HELL is that noise?" Jack asked, protectively covering his ears.

Sam took out her pocket-gauge. "I think it's coming from that direction," she said.

"And you needed to check your instruments to tell you that?" Jack asked. Daniel looked over to Sam, wondering the same thing.

"Un, no. I was just measuring for radiation. I thought while the reading came up, I'd just add that I knew the direction where the noise was coming from," she informed them, tapping at her device.

"From where it was coming," Jack corrected her.

"Yes, well, either way, the radiation levels are within acceptable parameters, so is the O2 level and the CO2 level."

"So ARE the..."

"Look, sir, with all due respect, shouldn't we be checking out the noise, rather than getting an unsolicited lesson in grammar?" Sam asked, agitated. Jack, chagrinned, began to walk toward the sound.

"Thank you, Sam," Daniel added, his head tipped down, glancing over his glasses at Jack who, he hoped, was out of ear shot.

"You know, you could have spoke up back there," Sam informed him, tired of having to deal with Jack's pedantic moods.

"Um, gosh, I'm going to just hate myself for this in a minute, but the past participle you're looking for here is 'spoken,' not ...'spoke,' " Daniel said, and then noticed the way her neck and forehead were becoming increasingly vascular with rage. "...but you knew that, and if I had any sense in my ...I'd just be..."

"Shut up, Daniel."

"Right, that's what I was about to say. Shutting up. Got ya." Daniel pointed a finger in the air, signaling he had received the message.

"Let's just catch up to the colonel, shall we?" she asked. Daniel nodded. Teal'c took up the six as the four walked toward the ear splitting sound.

Once they were within 50 feet of the noise, when they realized it came from a group of creatures, tumbling and moving rapidly, Jack motioned for his team to hit the ground and set up surveillance. Jack, Sam and Teal'c took out there binoculars, and Daniel, his video camera. They watched the beings fighting amongst themselves, scratching and clawing with their furry appendages, all the while wailing like unrecompensed spirits.

"Well? Any thoughts, campers?" Jack asked.

Daniel, staring thoughtfully into his display, began to formulate a theory. "It seems to me there's a battle over dominance here. Like they're trying to find out just who is the leader. It's a very common, widely accepted..."

"So, you're saying it's a mating ritual?" Jack asked.

"Well," Daniel considered, looking skyward. "Yes, I suppose."

"Daniel, why does it always have to be about sex with you?" Jack asked flatly.

"Well, it isn't...at least not always," Daniel retorted. "Okay, sure, maybe I do have a tendency to...Let's just say..."

"Let's not say anything," Jack interjected. "Carter, what do you think?"

"I'd have to agree with Daniel, sir, except I think it's really more about finding a leader than mating," Sam said.

"I would agree with Major Carter's assessment, O'Neill," Teal'c added.

"Okay. Next question: How is our presence going to affect their...rituals?" Jack asked.

"They seem to be role-playing more than anything," Sam offered.

"Yeah, I'd agree with that," Daniel said.

"Then�?" Jack said, waving his hand

"We should be..." Sam started.

"Fine?" Daniel finished.

"Um," Sam blinked. "Yeah, I think we'll be..."

"Fine," Daniel reiterated, searching Sam�s eyes for the sign that he was�fine.

"Fine?" Jack asked. "Or...fine? 'Cause I've been fine and ended up at the business end of Doc Fraiser's House of Fun. So, which is it?"

Sam and Daniel eyed each other.

"Fine," they said in unison.

"Fine," Jack closed. "Let's go meet the neighbors."

The screaming and cacophony escalated as they approached the figures. The smallish, furry creatures were totally oblivious to the four who approached. SG1 stood, weapons at the ready, trying to determine their best course of action. Finally, Daniel spoke.

"Ah, hello. My name is..."

Weeeeaaaaaaarrrrrkkkkkkk

"...Daniel. Dr. Daniel Jack..."

Mmmmmmoooooooooooffffffflllllllll

"...son. We're travelers from..."

Skkkkkkkkkkksskkkwwwwwweeeeeeeeee

"...Earthandwereallywanttotryandtalkwith...."

"PIPE DOWN!!" Jack bellowed.

The beings fell silent and stared at the new arrivals.

"Thank you," an exasperated Jack said. "Daniel, you have the floor."

"Yes. Well. As I was saying, my name is Daniel Jackson. One of your benefactors..."

"Ah, Dr. Jackson. We are so pleased to see you," Culshta said. SG1 turned to see the Pamperian delegate. However, with its presence, the cachophony hit a fever pitch.

"Sweet entertainment package ya got goin' here. Who'd want to miss this?" Jack sarcastically said, motioning to the general chaos. "Better than Branson, Missouri."

"Misery. Yeeees," Teal'c added under his breath.

"I am afraid you have come at a, shall we say, unsettled time in the Pamperians' day. Please, follow me while I explain," the delegate said. SG1 followed behind the gliding figure. "Everyday, at almost precisely this time, the Pamperians exhibit tendencies of destruction coupled with a certain high-pitched vocalization. It can be rather disconcerting."

"You don't say," Jack said, turning back to see the furry creatures rolling and running, hitting and biting, squealing and, well, squealing.

"What is the reason behind such behavior, sir?" Teal'c asked, pressing his communicator further into his ear.

"We have been unable to ascertain its basis. That is one of the reasons we've asked you to come to our world. Your negotiating skills coupled with your diplomacy skills have come to be known as some of the finest in the galaxy."

"Oh, wow. Thank you," Daniel said, tripping over and filming the Pamperian�s scattered belongings.

"What? No mention of our bravado?" Jack asked.

"I am sorry to say, no," the delegate answered. Sam lowered her head and smiled.

"What else can you tell us about the Pamperians?" Daniel asked, walking backwards in order to film the carousing beings. "I mean, like, is this...unsettled time an everyday occurrence?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so. We try very hard to reason with them, but nothing seems to work," the delegate said. "Please, come into my home." He held two arms out, gesturing the team to enter. Just as they were about to cross the threshold of the cluttered home, a Pamperian screamed past, nearly knocking Sam off her feet. Culshta scuttled over to the creature, following it with upraised arms.

"No, Zlashmuk. No. No, don't...no...no...no..nnn,well, okay...but not...!" Culshta dove to save an urn, which teetered precariously on the precipice of a ledge. Zlashmuk grabbed a bowl full of red prickly items off the table and ran from the room. Daniel spun around dizzily capturing the scene on tape.

"Pleasure was mine!" Jack called out after the sprinting figure.

"My sincere apologies, Colonel O'Neill. Zlashmuk is, well, rather disagreeable. Perhaps in the morning you will find him more pleasant," Culshta explained.

"And perhaps not," Teal'c rumbled.

"Sir, now that we've seen your...creations, well..." Sam began, uncertain of how to tell the delegate he was up a creek without Sam Carter.

Daniel decided it might be appropriate to interject. "I think Major Carter is concerned about the general lack of..."

"Sound proofing?" Jack chimed in.

"Sedatives." Teal'c offered.

"Deodorant!" Sam winced.

"Okay, those are all...um...but, no, I was thinking there seems to be a lack of...order," Daniel said, shutting off his camera and storing it in his vest.

"We believe that enforcing a strict code of order greatly inhibits the Pamperians' ability to conduct themselves within their individualized freedom," Culshta explained. Jack shook his head. Something in the recesses of his consciousness nagged at him, knocked at the door of his awakening, begging to come in.

He pretended he wasn't home.

"So what do you want us to do?" Sam asked.

"We'd like you to help us find a middle ground, one where we can live more peacefully," Culshta said.

"Then I guess we should have a sit-down with you and one of the Pamperians, huh?" Jack said, nervously looking out the door at the suddenly assembled creatures. They were all slobbering over their furry mouths, looking at Jack with hunger in their eyes�or so Jack thought. They began to creep toward Jack. "And something tells me that sit-down should be..." A Pamperian ran in, took Jack by the arm, and pulled him outside. "...Okay, well, looks like we're having a sit-down. Or a kidnapping. Carter? Teal'c?"

"Right behind you, sir," said Sam. "I've got you covered." Sam trained her weapon on the creature as she walked out of the home. The Pamperian pawed at Jack, rifling through his pockets.

"Ho! Have we met? Watch the...yeah, there. Shouldn't I buy you a drink first? Yow!...Culshta!" Jack yelled, trying to slap the furry appendages away from his clothing. The Pamperian fell to the ground wailing.

Culshta came running to the site. "What have you done?" the delegate demanded, crouching next to the creature.

"I didn't do anything," Jack insisted.

"Well, you did kind of..." Daniel mimicked Jack's movements while trying to rid himself of the creature. "I think you hurt...it."

"I did not."

"I think you did."

"Did not!"

"No!" yelled Sam. "I won't listen to this conversation one more time. Now, why don't we find out if we can talk with the Pamperians instead of talking about them." The two bickering men looked at Sam with a mixture of surprise and resentment.

"Didn't," Jack whispered out the side of his mouth to Daniel. Daniel opened his mouth to reply, but Sam pulled the colonel away.

"Culshta, the colonel is sorry...Colonel, tell him you're sorry. Colonel? Colonel, with all due respect, suck it up and say you're sorry, ya big..."

"Culshta, I am deeply...Carter, exactly what the hell did I do?" Jack implored.

"Bloog wants Box!" the fallen Pamperian wailed, pointing at Jack's chest. Jack looked down at his vest and pointed to his radio.

"What is it, Bloog?" Culshta tenderly asked, holding the stricken creature.

"Bloog wants box!"

Jack looked down at his chest. "This box?" Jack asked, tapping his radio. "Nope. Sorry. No can do. See this is my..."

"Want box!"

"Colonel," Culshta said, "perhaps you could allow Bloog to see the box attached to your garment."

"No, see, that's what I'm telling you. This is my radio, and I can't..."

"Bloog want box now!!"

"Colonel," Culshta intoned again, its voice becoming thick with impatience, "Bloog is merely curious about the world around him."

"Now!!!" Bloog screamed, flailing his appendages about his general vicinity.

"Well, tell him to be curious about something else," Jack told him, rolling his eyes. "He's not getting my..."

"BOX!!!!"

"Colonel," Culshta demanded, "just give him the..."

"No!"

"BBBBOOOOXXXX!!!!!

Jack pulled the radio from his chest and tossed it to Culshta. "Here! Gees! Just tell him to be careful with it," he said hoping the hearing in his right ear would someday return. The colonel turned to his team. "Five bucks says he eats it."

"Speaking of eating," Daniel said, "isn't it about time we set up camp and had lunch?"

"Oh, please allow me to furnish you with your mid-day meal," Culshta said, rising from the suddenly well Pamperian. Culshta�s sense of decorum suddenly returning as well.

"That's not necessary, Culshta," Jack said, his stomach turning at the memory of partaking in assorted alien cuisine.

"Oh, but I insist," Culshta said, gliding to his home.

"Well, Jack, when in Rome..." Daniel began.

"Daniel, one more," Jack irately said, holding up his index finger in front of Daniel's face. "You get to use that saying one more time while you are with the SGC. So be very careful how you use it. It'll be your last."

Daniel's eyebrows danced a pas de deux with his mouth in a feeble attempt to reply.

"Please, come in," Culshta said, leading the way. SG1 followed him into the room. "Find an arrangement that would best suit your physical specifications while I arrange for our meals."

"Um," Daniel held up his hand in question. "Wh...what?"

"He wishes us to make ourselves comfortable," Teal'c translated, taking a seat.

"Thank you, Teal'c," Jack said, finding his seat, eyeing Daniel.

"I think you will find our native cuisine rather impressive," Culshta said proudly. Four particle streams poured down onto the table above each person and left in their wake four bars. Each bar was the size of a matchbook.

Sam picked up hers and looked it over. Daniel laid his head close to the table looking at the intricacies of the bar and finding none.

"Is this kind of like an 'Everlasting Gobstopper'?" Jack asked smelling the bar in front of him.

"Sir?"

"I believe Colonel O'Neill is referring to the movie 'Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory,' starring Gene Wilder, in which a small piece of gum was able to produce a great variety of food items," Teal'c explained to the others.

"Exactly!" Jack stated. "Again. Thank you, Teal'c," he said, making a point to eye his anthropologist teammate. "You know, Daniel, it wouldn't hurt you to know these watershed moments of American culture."

Daniel's back stiffened. "Be that as it may, Jack, it still doesn't tell me what it is we..."

From out of Daniel's hand, a Pamperian swiped the bar. He rounded the table to Sam's side.

"No, Trimp! These are for our guests!" Culshta called out, wringing its hands.

Trimp grabbed for Sam's bar. She dropped it on the table before he could make a move.

"Please, Trimp," Culshta implored. "Be a good creature and wait outside."

Trimp was watching for the sign to round the table toward Teal'c. Teal'c handed his bar apathetically to the creature.

Trimp slammed the bars in its mouth, chewing wildly while pieces flew out from its mouth. It headed toward Jack.

Jack looked curiously at the situation before him. "Does this seem familiar to any of you?" he asked, holding his hand out casually to allow the creature to abscond with his food.

Just as Trimp greedily reached for Jack�s bar, Jack snatched his hand back, causing the creature to bonk his head on Jack's chair.

"Ah-ha! My...bar. My bar!" Jack growled, facetiously. "Jack want Bar!!!"

Daniel, Teal'c, Sam and Culshta stared at him. Jack, smiling smugly at Trimp, looked up from the verging-on-tears creature to the awaiting scowls of his teammates. He shrugged his shoulders and gave the creature his bar of food.

"Very nice, Jack. Did you bring your whoopee cushion, too?" Daniel asked.

"Had I known, I would have," Jack told him, kicking the creature away from his chair. "You know, I gotta say again how familiar this seems to me. Isn't it striking a sort of...surreal chord with any of you?"

"Honestly?" Daniel asked.

"Yeah," Jack said, leaning forward, waiting for Daniel's answer.

Daniel squinted in deep thought. "No."

"There does seem to be a resemblance to a movie I perused many months ago," Teal'c began as Trimp chomped noisily on the foodstuff. "In this film, the character greedily took food from plates that did not belong to her. I believe the character was Helen Keller."

"�Miracle Worker,� Teal'c," Sam informed him.

"Well, I think that's overstating the fact," Daniel interrupted. "I mean, just because Teal�c knows a few movies, doesn't mean he is a purveyor of miracles."

"No, Daniel," Jack said, taking off his cap and scratching his head. "It's a movie. It's...didn't you ever do normal things as a kid?" he asked, taking pity on Daniel momentarily.

"I did...normal things," Daniel defensively suggested, squirming in his seat. "Maybe not normal to Chicago...or America...or the western hemisphere, but, yes, normal for...Okay, no. I didn't." He slumped dejected in his chair.

"Sometimes I don't know whether to feel sorry for you or make fun of you," Jack told him.

"You most often go with your latter thought," Daniel reminded him.

"Yeah, probably. Consider it a learning experience," Jack said.

"You�re too kind," Daniel acerbically told him.

"I know. It�s a cross I must bear," Jack told him. "So, Culshta, about your�sweet group of creatures--aside from cattle prods, how is it we�re supposed to help you?"

"We, the high council, are in need of your assistance in�" Culshta began just as two different Pamperian raced in caterwauling. "Excuse me a moment."

Jack watched the two fuzzy creatures, shoving and pushing, scratching at each other�s pelts, and also watched a highly ineffective Culshta try to talk them out of their behavior. The lack of effectiveness made Jack squirm with discomfort.

"Now, Sleef and Pablasmachtainkaatel, this is inappropriate behavior," Culshta told them. "I�m counting. Did you hear me? One, two, three�"

The two Pamperians didn�t as much as slow down their wrestling match.

"I mean it!" Culshta told them, desperately trying to gain their attention. "When I get to thirty-five, there will be consequences."

Jack winced. He slapped a hand over his eyes. The rest of the team slowly turned their attention from the wrestling match to Jack.

"Colonel?" Sam said, noticing with a certain amount of concern how Jack�s chest was bucking.

"Jack, are you�crying?" Daniel asked, furtively glancing around the room. He knew all the years in the Air Force were bound to catch up with Jack sooner or later. Daniel just hoped it were�later. Not in the middle of Pamperius, light years away from a needle full of Ativan.

Jack uncovered his eyes, streaming with tears, and sucked in a rollicking breath. "Oh, God! That�s it!"

Carter searched Daniel and Teal�c�s faces for the answer to this latest O�Neill-puzzle. From the looks of their stymied expressions, she was going to have to venture a guess on her own. "Sir? You�re laughing?"

"Culshta," Jack said, regaining his composure and rising from his seat, "excuse us a minute, won�t you?" Jack motioned for his team to meet him outside.

When they had all assembled outside, Jack tamped down the last of his giggles.

"Sir? Maybe you could enlighten us," Sam said, eyeing Jack with a measure of misgiving.

"Here�s the deal," Jack began. "What is it that I have in my background that none of you have?"

Sam, Teal�c and Daniel each bit their tongues, squashing rude remarks.

"Okay, okay," Jack said, gesturing that he got the message. "What I mean is, what is it that I have knowledge of that none of the rest of you do?"

Assorted expressions of dread crossed their faces.

"Look, Daniel," Jack said, exasperated by their reactions, "you know everything there is to know about words, cultures and history. Some of it I think you make up, but still, it�s what you know."

"I don�t�make it up," Daniel told him, a little hurt by the inference.

"Carter, you understand more about this universe than whole astrophysics department at any number of universities," Jack told her. Sam smiled. "And again, some of it I think you make up."

"Colonel!"

"Teal�c," Jack went on, ignoring Sam, "you know�well, the things you know, I�m not sure I want to know. No offense, big guy."

"None taken, O�Neill."

"So, Jack, now that you�ve�pigeonholed us so brilliantly," Daniel said, "do tell what it is that you have that we don�t."

"I�ve been a parent," Jack told them pointedly.

"As have I, O�Neill," Teal�c reminded him.

"Yeah, but, T, being a parent on Chulak and being a parent on Earth are about as different as�Chulak and Earth, I�m thinkin�."

"I am in agreement," Teal�c told him.

"Okay, so now that that mystery is cleared up," Daniel interjected, "what does it have to do with the Pamperians?"

"They�re kids," Jack excitedly said. His enthusiasm fell on deaf ears.

"What about their kids?" Sam asked.

"No, Carter," Jack said, rubbing his eyes. "The Pamperians. They are kids."

"As in�" Daniel began, hardly able to hold onto the thread of Jack�s thought process.

"...As in �get out the crayons and a bottle of scotch for dad��kids!" Jack said, distressed by the lack of comprehension. "Okay, look�I�ve got four tickets for the clue bus, and it�s a�comin�, so pay attention. Culshta want us to help him and the high council act as mediators between the Pamperians and them. But they don�t need a mediator."

"Okay�what?" Daniel said.

Jack leaned over, looked far off the distance, and sarcastically said, "The clue bus is one stop away, Daniel. Try to have your ticket ready."

"So what you�re saying is they don�t need a mediator, they need�parenting skills?" Sam asked, incredulously.

"And we have our first passenger!" Jack said, slapping Sam on the back.

"But, Jack," Daniel said, waggling a finger in the air, "these creatures are at least forty or fifty Earth years old�"

"I can see the flashers," Jack warned Daniel.

Daniel closed his eyes and pursed his lips. "Going on. The age of these creatures would sort of preclude the thought that they are�children."

"I hear squeaky brakes," Jack said, cupping his hand around his ear.

Daniel dropped his head to his chin, not willing to be sidetracked by Jack�s insipid metaphors. "I find it hard to believe that�"

"Stopping�."

"�a simple lesson on behavior modification is going�"

"Carter, you first," Jack said, miming that she could now enter the clue bus. Teal�c was able to be a rider on principle. Daniel, well, he�d have to sweat it out.

"�is going to solve all their�Fine!" Daniel exclaimed, giving up. "I�m on board. There. Are you happy?"

"Fasten your seatbelts," Jack warned them, leading the way back to the Stargate. "It�s going to be a bumpy ride."

*****

"General, it�s worse than we could have imagined," Jack broadcast as he spilled through the event horizon. One by one, the rest of his team arrived behind him. "Actually, that�s not entirely correct. They could all still be in diapers. But, who knows, maybe they are. I didn�t bother to check. Be that as it may�"

"SG1," General Hammond called down flummoxed, "report to the debriefing room�now."

Once inside the room, each member stowed the assorted pounds of gear aside and took a seat. It would be a short debriefing; they had promised Culshta they�d be back shortly.

After about fifteen minutes of scattered thoughts and less than professional accountings of their brief time on Pamperius, General Hammond dismissed SG1 to return to the planet to take whatever actions Colonel O�Neill saw fit.

"Before we leave, General, we could use some supplies," Jack said, swinging around to face the general before leaving the room.

"Of course you do," General Hammond sarcastically replied, holding his throbbing head in his hands.

"I�ll need�" Jack stopped to think, carefully formatting a plan in his head. He needed specific material, crucial to the implementation of his plan. Not one could be sacrificed; not one thought of as unnecessary. "Okay, I�ll need Dixie Cups�five-ouncers; masking tape; permanent markers; tongue depressors; a ream of paper; large cardboard boxes; a box of Oreo�s. Oh, and a case of thirty-year old whiskey."

General Hammond�s head shot up. "Am I to understand you are going to use whiskey as part of your plan to teach the high council about parenting?"

"No, sir," Jack said stiffly. "The whiskey was a personal request. Thought I�d slip it in there just to�"

"Go," General Hammond ordered.

Jack looked over his team. "I don�t think that�s out of line. Do you, Daniel?"

"Well, I�"

"Come on, Carter," Jack intoned, slapping her on the back. "You and me, throwin� back some whiskey that�s so old it oughta know better."

"Gee, sir, that sounds�" Sam winced.

"Teal�c!" Jack cried, holding out his arms. And then he dropped his hands to his side. "Kind of barkin� up the wrong vice there, aren�t I?"

"Indeed," Teal�c agreed.

"Fine. I�ll take the whiskey; Sam probably wants a beer�something dark enough to hold up a fork, I�m thinkin�; Teal�c needs�a Dasani; and Daniel, well, I think we all agree Daniel could use something cheap and tasteless."

"Jaaack."

"Preferably with a screw�top."

"Colonel O�Neill!"

"Better yet, with it�s own built in spigot. Whatta ya say, General? One of those Walmart brand house wines? You�ll love it, Daniel. They actually phonetically spell out Liebfraumilch."

"Colonel O�Neill," General Hammond bellowed. "Take whatever you need. Sign for it all. Just�get the hell out of here."

"Yes, sir," Jack said, saluting and stepping out of the general�s office. The rest of his team met him in the hall.

"How you keep from being court martialled, I�ll never know, sir," Sam informed Jack.

"What? That?" Jack facetiously said. "It�s all about the love, Carter. It�s knowing when to keep pushing until you just about totter over that line."

"Speaking of tottering," Daniel interjected, looking directly at Jack, "would you like to fill us in on your�plan, such as it is?"

"All in good time, Daniel. All in good time. But first, we need provisions," Jack said, and he gave each one of them orders to procure parts of the needed supplies. When each was out of sight, Jack furtively dipped into his office and placed a call to the one person he knew would have just the answers to a very important question.

Jack punched in the number, locked his door and waited for that voice to pick up.

"God, this is stupid, but she�s the only one I can think of who would�"

"Hello?"

"Oh, hey! Hey! Sara. Yeah, hi!" he nervously stumbled. "How ya doin�?"

"Who is this?"

Jack slapped his hand to his eye. "It�s, uh, well, it�s�your ex-husband," he said, grimacing.

"Sean?"

"Sean?"

"Okay, not Sean," Sara said. "Matt?"

"Who the hell is Matt?" Jack demanded, taking his seat.

"Oh, wait. Could this be�oh, this must be that older ex-husband of mine," she said.

Jack nodded. "See you updated your fishing license, Sara."

"Hook, line and sinkered ya, did I, Jack?" she asked.

"Just about had me on the gutting table," Jack told her, rocking back in his chair. "Look, Sara, I have a question."

"No, I don�t know why the Blues traded Hull to the Red Wings, and furthermore, I don�t care," she told him.

"How can you not care about a thing like that?" Jack demanded. "Detroit�s gonna kick the Blackhawks ass next time they play�"

"I believe that would be asses," Sara corrected him.

"Yeah, whatever. Ass, asses�either way, it�s gonna be ugly, and get your mind out of the�crease, as it were."

"Oh, well said," Sara laughed. "Jack, is there a reason you called me?"

"I mean, why don�t they just trade up for Roy and Jagr. Hell, then they could call in their games," Jack went on.

"Jack�"

"You can�t tell me a little part of your heart doesn�t just crumbles every time our Blackhawks lose to Detroit."

"I�m sensing nobody wants to talk hockey with you on base, Jack. How�m I doin�?" Sara asked.

Jack squirmed a little in his chair. "Nobody on base knows hockey like you. Tell you the truth, I don�t even bother asking any more," he lied.

"You�re a lousy liar, Jack," she said.

Jack sat up, rested his elbows on his desk and quirked a smile. "Only to you. I can lie to anyone else. Hell, whole countries, entire governments have been hoodwinked by me. But you�I could never lie to you."

"Oh, Jack," Sara gushed, "that was so� so much crap. What do you want?"

"Okay, here�s the thing. I need some books on parenting," he said, picking up a pencil and paper.

"Something you want to tell me first, Colonel?"

"What? No! No, it�s�they�re for a friend. New baby and all. Well, old�really old baby, but really in need of some instructional books, and I knew you had read all those when we were�You read them. Made me read them, and did I ever fully relate to you how embarrassing it is to be caught on a military base with the book �Making the Terrible Twos Terrific�?"

"Could have been worse. I could have made you read the books from the La Leche league," Sara told him.

"I don�t think I want to know," Jack said, rubbing his forehead.

"No. Probably not."

"So, Sara, I need some titles," Jack told her, readying his pencil.

"Okay, well, I�m thinking of one in particular��What To Expect in the First Two Years.� Anything by Penelope Leach, really. Oh, T. Berry Brazelton�love that man."

Jack scribbled down the names, nodding as he did so. "Let me ask you something�any of these books talk about the use of electro-shock therapy?"

"Jack!"

"Not for the little ones," he called back. "I�m considering it for the�parent."

"No. No electro-shock therapy. Although, come to think of it, that might have come in handy when I was raising Charlie," Sara said.

"Don�t sell yourself short, Sara. You were the best," Jack tenderly said.

"I wasn�t talking about using it for me," she teased.

Jack pulled his hand across his eye and smiled. "Ah, Sara�"

"Look, Jack, I hate to cut this short, but�"

"Yeah. Yeah, I have to get back to work here, too," he said, straightening up. "Thanks for the info. I appreciate it."

"Anytime, Jack."

"Hey, Sara?"

"Yeah."

Jack cleared his throat, scratched the back of his head and forged ahead. "You want to have dinner sometime?"

"I live in Chicago, Jack," she said.

"Yeah, I know. I just thought�" Jack threw his pencil down on the desk. "You were a great mom, Sara. I just thought we could get together and�"

"�and discuss why I�m not returning the compliment?" she sarcastically added.

"I wasn�t going to say anything�"

"Next time you�re in Chicago, give me a call," Sara told him.

"Will do. And thanks, Sara," Jack said.

"You�re welcome, Jack. Get back to work."

"Gotcha."

Jack ended the call, tossed his phone back into his desk, smiled and picked up his list of books. He grabbed his wallet from his leather jacket and left his office to procure an airman for a very special mission.

And then he ran back into his office and wrote himself a note.

"Call for plane tickets to Chicago. ASAP."

*****

"Gather round, you over-educated, highly-trained teammates of mine," Jack said, sitting on top of one of their provision crates. "While Teal�c is busy creating entire mass transit systems with those over-sized cardboard boxes�Oh, T! No! You can�t tape the Pamperians IN the boxes. I know. Me, too, but�well the paperwork gets a little out of hand in cases of asphyxiation. Yeah, just cut a hole in it. Let �em breathe. That�s it�" Jack called, gesturing how to cut the required doors. "Good. Now, I don�t know, draw a latch next to it. Make it look like a rocket."

"I do not believe the Pamperians would have experienced interstellar travel, O�Neill. Perhaps this frame of reference is inappropriate for them," Teal�c stated, clasping his hands on top of the closed box, muffling the enclosed creature.

"Fine, then think of something else. Just�keep �em busy," Jack said, turning back to Daniel and Sam. "Where was I?"

"Deriding us, as usual," Daniel informed him.

"Right," Jack said, patting him on the back. "Thanks, Daniel. Okay, so you take these two cups. Put them together, lip to lip, like this."

"Lip to lip?" Daniel murmured, glancing at Jack over his glasses.

"�Scuse me? Did I hear something? Perhaps a badly neglected libido?" Jack mocked.

"It�s not neglected," Daniel said, a little hurt by the inference. "Just a little�underutilized. Neglected�"

"Can we get back to the cups, sir?" Sam said.

"Right. Okay, you got your two cups facing each other. Now you tape them together, like this," Jack said, wrapping a massive amount of tape around the joined ends. Daniel and Carter did the same, or at least tried.

"Sir, wouldn�t it be better if we first mitered the ends of the cups? I mean, think of it. We could cut down on tape waste by thirty-three percent, if my calculations are correct," Sam told him.

"Major, we�re taping cups together, not hooking up sections of a Trident Missile," Jack informed her.

"Yes, sir. Taping, sir. Just going to use tape indiscriminately, sir, as if�as if order and precision didn�t matter, which I find hard to believe. But, hey, what do I know? Just years of matriculation, whole books on engineering. Hell, I know mathematical calculations that would give you an aneurysm," she continued, wrapping not only the two cups together in her frustration, but three of her fingers as well. "But you�re the colonel, Colonel, and if you say tape, well, I say how much. Because why be correct? Why try to do things the right way? Why try to make it the best damn cup in the galaxy? Why? Why?!"

"Uh, Carter?" Jack said, spying the feat of suppressed anger through engineering.

"What?!"

"The tape?"

"How much, sir?!" she growled.

Jack scooted away from her and said, "As much as you see fit, Major."

"Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!" Sam barked. "Permission to be excused, sir!"

"By all means, Carter," Jack insisted. Sam turned and tried to extricate her hands from the layers of tape, all the while muttering to herself, and scaring away a few Pamperians in the process.

"Guess that leaves you and me, Daniel," Jack said, scooting back to his side of the crate.

"How�s this?" Daniel asked, holding up his cups.

"That�s good, Daniel. On to step two," Jack said, picking up a third cup. "Attach this cup, end to end, to the last cup. I�ll trust you to use your own discretion where tape is concerned."

"Okay, but�" Daniel began, turning his taped cups over in his hands. "�which end is the�end?"

"That one," Jack said, pointing.

"How do you know?" Daniel pensively asked, examining both ends.

"Daniel, for all that�s holy, just chose one!"

Daniel flinched and began taping the third cup to one of the ends. He looked it over. "Jack, it looks like a bowling pin."

"Therein lies the magic of paper cups," Jack said, finishing his taping job. "One day it�s a bowling pin, the next�" he said, adhering a tongue depressor to the top of the first cup, "�it�s an airplane."

"You�re kidding, right?" Daniel said, looking over the creation with great skepticism.

"Truly. An airplane." Jack took the permanent marker and drew cockpit windows on the front. "See?"

Daniel took the "plane" from Jack and inspected it. "Wouldn�t it be better if the tongue depressor was on the front. Kind of like a propeller?"

"But this is a jet, Daniel, not a prop," Jack informed him, snatching the Dixie jet from Daniel�s hands. "I�m an Air Force officer. Can�t tell you the last time I had to kick start a prop."

"I�m just saying�"

"Look," Jack blurted, raking his hands through his hair. "You want to make it a prop? Fine. Make it a prop. Hell, make it a flying bowling pin for all I care. Just make it!"

"A flying bowling pin would be just silly," Daniel retorted.

"And three paper cups taped together isn�t?" Jack cried.

"Why are you yelling at me?" Daniel asked.

"Because I�m trying to make a few playthings for these creatures, and I�m spending all my time answering your idiotic questions!" he yelled. One of the Pamperians scampered toward him and reached out for Jack�s plane. "No! Wait! Just�hold your�whatever it is you all hold, and there�s no need to show me what that might be." Jack stood up, placed two fingers in his mouth, and produced an ear-splitting whistle. "Listen up, peop�uh,�you�guys," he shrugged. "This is an airplane," he said, holding the model in front of him. "See? Aaaaaiiiiiirrrrrpppplllllaaaaannnnnnne�." Jack dive-bombed the disposable jet through the air, shooting down an enemy Daniel as it careened toward his head.

Fifteen Pamperians clambered noisily to Jack. One banged against the inside of a box. Teal�c raised a cruel eyebrow.

"Quiet down!" Jack bellowed. The Pamperians settled. "Now, if you want one, you�re going to have to show me how patient you can be. When I say �Go,� I want all of you to sit on the ground, put your�furry little appendages under your�"

"�furry little butts?" Daniel offered quietly.

"We�ll discuss appropriate language on our way back to the Stargate, Mr. Pottymouth," Jack informed him. "Don�t mind him, people. He�s cranky. Now, after you sit down�Aht! I didn�t say �go� yet�" Three Pamperians stood back up to join the group, riveted to Jack�s explanation. "Remember, I have to say �Go.� Now, after you sit down and place your paws under you, then I want you to close your mouths and wait your turn."

"Jack�"

"Quiet, Daniel. I�m killin� here," Jack proudly informed him.

"You certainly may�"

"Are you ready?" Jack asked them. "Go!"

The seismic activity jumped a notch as all fifteen Pamperians hit the ground, wrestled their paws beneath them and shut their mouths.

"Uh, Jack�"

"Daniel�" Jack turned toward Daniel, exasperated by the continual interruptions, especially when he had his audience in the palm of his hand. "Now, I see one little Pamperian who�s doing exactly like he�s�she�s�like you�ve been told. This is for you." Jack handed the prototype to the first Pamperian who scampered off to play with it. Jack beamed at the sight, proud that his plan was working out so well. "Looks like we need to step up production, Rosie."

"Rosie?" Daniel asked. "Ah, yes. Rosie the Riveter. Yes, very historic. I�m sure the Pamperians understood that as well, and didn�t, perhaps, instead hear you calling me by a woman�s name."

"For crying out loud, Daniel, would you just leave the sexual identity baggage on the carousel, huh?" Jack shoved three more cups in his hand. "Mate these, would ya?"

Two Pamperians toppled over on their side.

"Oh, Jack. Yeah. About your directions to the Pamperians?" Daniel began, nervously pointing. "Remember how you told them to keep their mouths closed?"

"Yeah? What about it?" Jack casually asked, taping a set of wings on a second jet.

"The thing is, Jack," Daniel said, blinking, "they don�t have noses."

Jack dropped his jet. "Open your mouths!"

The Pamperians, newly obedient, remained still.

"Open up!"

"You didn�t say the�word," Daniel mentioned to him, keeping a close eye on the number of creatures tumbling to the ground.

Jack shot Daniel a frightened look and said, "Please! Open your mouth, please!"

"No, that�s not it," Daniel informed him, beginning to worry that this mission was going to end in gunfire again.

"Well, what is it, Daniel?" Jack demanded, trying to pry open one of the Pamperian�s clenched mouths.

"Um, �Go.�"

"I can�t go!" Jack howled. "They�ll all suffocate!"

"No, Jack it�s�" Daniel washed his hands through the air. "When I say �Go� open your mouths. GO!"

Fifteen cavernous mouths sucked in enough air to cause a shift in atmospheric pressure.

"Okay, then," Jack rebounded, sitting down with his cups and tape. "Who wants an airplane?" He pretended the nervous sweat pouring down his back didn�t bother him, didn�t tickle him, didn�t make him want to throw himself on the ground and writhe�

"Look what it can do," Jack said, throwing himself to the ground and writhing, ostensibly to show the creatures the great fun to be had from 15 ounces worth of wax paper cups.

"Colonel O�Neill, this is most fascinating," Culshta called from across the compound. Jack jumped to his feet, looked at the airplane, and was glad that somebody finally understood the genius that was Jack. "This physician, Dr. Brazelton, is remarkable. However, I must ask�what is cradle cap?"

Jack looked around to the furry creatures. "Something you should have dealt with a long time ago. Glad you like the books, Culshta. I think they can really help you out."

"Indeed they will," Culshta pronounced. He surveyed the behavior of his creatures, awe struck by their joyfully contained activities, and one which seemed not so joyfully contained. "Pardon me, Colonel, but what is your Teal�c doing with that box?"

"Oh, him?" Jack asked, feigning innocence as he surreptitiously sliced a finger across his throat for Teal�c�s view. Teal�c released the Pamperian, who rolled out, dizzy from oxygen deprivation. The corner of Teal�c�s mouth curled up unrepentantly. "That would be hide and go seek. I think you�ll find it under the chapter on Permanence�"

"Outstanding," Culshta announced. "Simply outstanding."

"I�m back, sir," Sam said, stepping next to Jack. Behind her she tried to rid her fingers of a stubborn globule of adhesive. "What can I do?"

"Paper airplanes, Major. Go put that engineering background to good use," Jack happily ordered her.

"Um, sir. I regret to tell you this, but I�I never learned how to make a paper airplane," Sam regretfully informed him.

"You�re kidding me?" Jack said.

"Nope. I made a rocket with a paper towel tube and some common kitchen chemicals when I was six, but I never got around to that whole�" Sam cut through the air with rigid hands, "�that whole�folding�thing."

"Morons. I got morons on my team," Jack stated, dropping his forehead into his hand.

"I believe that is from �Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid,� O�Neill," Teal�c offered, passing by.

"Oh, yeah? Didn�t know that," Jack said, considering the possibility. "Hmmm. I�ll have to watch that again someday. Be that as it may, what the hell do you mean you can�t make a paper airplane? You�re in the Air Force, for crying out loud in the night. I mean, your dad is a General!"

"Sir, I have a PhD in astrophysics that I received because I was busy studying while some people were busy mastering the art of origami," Sam bitterly recounted.

A white paper airplane glided past her face, smooth as silk and quiet as a leaf falling from a tree.

"I have a PhD as well," Daniel sheepishly added, pulling another piece of paper from the ream. "Couple�of them, actually. I skipped a few seminars, I guess."

"Daniel?" Jack said, aghast. "I could kiss you."

"Now who has gender issues?" Daniel said, launching a perfect representation of a B-117.

Gleeful and busy, the Pamperians played with their new toys, while Culshta worked on offering limits and boundaries.

Jack, Teal�c, Sam and Daniel stepped back and proudly assessed their work.

"The mission report should be interesting," Daniel said.

"Oh, yeah. It should really display our talents to the utmost," Sam said.

"Some more than others," Jack offered.

"What will Senator Kinsey think of our endeavors?" Teal�c asked. The three stared at the Jaffa. Jack glanced at Daniel. Daniel fluttered his eyelashes, rounded out his lips and passed his confusion onto Sam, who began to walk toward the Stargate.

"Teal�c, here�s a word you may not generally associate with me�obfuscation," Jack said, wrapping an arm across the back of Teal�c�s shoulders.

"Obfuscation, Jack?" Daniel asked, coming to a dead stop.

"Yes, Daniel, I believe it means�well, in order to fully appreciate the syntax, one must tear apart the root, and in doing so�"

"Brilliant, Jack," Daniel said. "And may I just say, if ever there were a word that expresses you so onomatopoetically, obfuscation would be it."

"Thank you, Daniel," Jack said, taking the lead. "I think."

"You�re welcome, Jack," Daniel answered, following close behind.

"Sir, I have to say," Sam said, turning to face her CO, "you were really surprising out there."

"How�s that, Major?" Jack asked, pulling his empty crate.

"The way you assessed the situation was brilliant, Colonel. I, for one, just want to commend you on it."

"Your analysis of the problem was rather dead-balls on, O�Neill," Teal�c said, dragging an empty crate as well.

"Dead-balls on?" Daniel repeated, stunned by the colloquialism.

"�My Cousin Vinny,�" Jack said. "Marisa Tomei. Won the Academy award for it, as a matter of fact."

Daniel sucked in a breath of air and tried to forget the latest reference to films. "Yes, what Sam said," Daniel interjected, trying anything to get out of the "Siskel and Ebert Do Pamperius" show. "It was really, um�"

"Yes, Daniel?" Jack peevishly said.

"Give me a minute while I think about this, would ya?" Daniel said. Jack chucked him on the shoulder, and Daniel smiled. "No, you�re right. You did good out there, Jack. And no bloodshed. What is the world coming to?"

"The mission isn�t over yet, Daniel," Jack told him.

"So, sir," Sam called over her shoulder, "now that we have some downtime, what are your plans?"

"Oh, I don�t know, Major," Jack answered, taking out his sunglasses to shade the afternoon sun. "Might just go watch some hockey in Chicago."

The End

*****

I�ve conceived, carried and given birth to children in less time than it took to finish this story... Almost as painful, too. Hope you liked it.