Challenge #43
Title: $14.95 Plus Tax
Rating: G
Challenge #43: "Action" ("A firefight" optional)
Warnings/Author's Notes: Futurefic. The wars are over, SG-1 are retired, and the Stargate program is public.
Summary: "It looks nothing like me."
“It looks nothing like me.”
He snorted in amusement as she made a face and put the package back on the shelf. “Wouldn’t it be creepier if they did?”
For just a moment, she pictured an army of action figures with her face, staring up at her with tiny soulless blue eyes. She shuddered. “Yeah, good point.”
The gray-haired figure next to hers had a Try Me button, so he reached out and poked it. He smiled as it whined, “Oh for cryin’ out loud!”
“They got that one right, at least,” she laughed. She turned it around to read the back of the package. “Look, they’re advertising a full range of ‘O’Neillisms’ in its vocabulary.”
“Includes ‘D’oh,’ ‘Yeahsureyoubetcha,’ and ‘good morning, campers’,” he read over her shoulder. “God, I miss hearing that.”
She pressed the Try Me button on the next figure. “Indeed,” it boomed.
“Please tell me it says more than that,” he teased, nudging her with his elbow.
“Oh, you’re such a riot.” She rolled her eyes, then spotted something that made her grin. “Well, well, well, look at this. ‘Daniel Jackson - with new resurrection action’!”
He couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. “I die sixty million times and they make a sales pitch out of it?” He shook his head. “That’s just so... typical.”
In the end, they bought one of each figure and a package of Jaffa soldiers. After all, what were SG-1 without firefights and mortal peril?
Rating: G
Challenge #43: "Action" ("A firefight" optional)
Warnings/Author's Notes: Futurefic. The wars are over, SG-1 are retired, and the Stargate program is public.
Summary: "It looks nothing like me."
“It looks nothing like me.”
He snorted in amusement as she made a face and put the package back on the shelf. “Wouldn’t it be creepier if they did?”
For just a moment, she pictured an army of action figures with her face, staring up at her with tiny soulless blue eyes. She shuddered. “Yeah, good point.”
The gray-haired figure next to hers had a Try Me button, so he reached out and poked it. He smiled as it whined, “Oh for cryin’ out loud!”
“They got that one right, at least,” she laughed. She turned it around to read the back of the package. “Look, they’re advertising a full range of ‘O’Neillisms’ in its vocabulary.”
“Includes ‘D’oh,’ ‘Yeahsureyoubetcha,’ and ‘good morning, campers’,” he read over her shoulder. “God, I miss hearing that.”
She pressed the Try Me button on the next figure. “Indeed,” it boomed.
“Please tell me it says more than that,” he teased, nudging her with his elbow.
“Oh, you’re such a riot.” She rolled her eyes, then spotted something that made her grin. “Well, well, well, look at this. ‘Daniel Jackson - with new resurrection action’!”
He couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. “I die sixty million times and they make a sales pitch out of it?” He shook his head. “That’s just so... typical.”
In the end, they bought one of each figure and a package of Jaffa soldiers. After all, what were SG-1 without firefights and mortal peril?