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Weird Links
OK, after weeks of crushing workloads, it's dead here at work. I wish I could bring in my tools and work on some pieces, but hey, I can download stuff here a lot faster then at home, so....
Anyway, a friend sent this to me, and I thought I would do my Civic Duty and pass it along:
Does your fire-suppression system come with an off switch?
It should!
Heh. It almost begs for fic, doesn't it? Unbeta-ed!
Anyway, a friend sent this to me, and I thought I would do my Civic Duty and pass it along:
Does your fire-suppression system come with an off switch?
It should!
Heh. It almost begs for fic, doesn't it? Unbeta-ed!
Lorne emerged from the puddlejumper bay, soaked to the skin, resembling nothing so much as an ambulatory snowman. Luckily, the Ancient's foam fire-suppression system was't toxic, was even breathable--which was great, when the room was full to the goddamned ceiling with the stuff. He coughed. Everything was going to taste weird for weeks, he just knew it. He turned back, and shook the worst of the foam off. Thank God it was white. He could just see the Ancients using pink fire-suppression foam. He shuddered, and flicked off more foam that was sliding down the back of his neck.
He waited.
Finally, a sheepish (and very foamy) Lt. Colonel and Chief Science Officer shuffled through the doorway. McKay opened his mouth, but Lorne stopped him with an upraised hand.
"I do not want to know what happened. Sir. McKay. Just never, ever, do that in the jumper bay again."
He turned on his heel (flinging more foam), and headed towards his quarters. And a shower. But...
But a short stop at Zelenka's wouldn't take long, because if anyone had the security feed from this little fiasco, it would be Radek. A man who truly understood the proper care and storage of blackmail material. Lorne smiled. A short stop to get a little insurance would be worth it.
He waited.
Finally, a sheepish (and very foamy) Lt. Colonel and Chief Science Officer shuffled through the doorway. McKay opened his mouth, but Lorne stopped him with an upraised hand.
"I do not want to know what happened. Sir. McKay. Just never, ever, do that in the jumper bay again."
He turned on his heel (flinging more foam), and headed towards his quarters. And a shower. But...
But a short stop at Zelenka's wouldn't take long, because if anyone had the security feed from this little fiasco, it would be Radek. A man who truly understood the proper care and storage of blackmail material. Lorne smiled. A short stop to get a little insurance would be worth it.
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