Squonksgiving by Friendshipper/Sholio (Gift Challenge)
Title: Squonksgiving
Author: friendshipper
Word Count: 1800 wds
Rating: G, gen, team
Summary: Sometimes John just gets a feeling that this is going to be yet another day that's not going in the mission report. Humor, crack.
It was standing on John's doorstep when he poked his head out the door into the fresh, crisp, M28-549 morning.
John pulled his head very quickly back inside, slammed the door -- they didn't really slam; the Tu Humar used light wood slats and paper for everything -- and went to get his gun, which he really should have had in the first place. Then he wondered if maybe he was being a trifle paranoid, and radioed Teyla, who was usually a pretty good reality check, and, also, in the cabin next to his.
"Teyla? You awake?"
After some fumbling sounds, Teyla's voice said blearily, "Yes, John?"
Crap. Woke up Teyla. This day was not getting off on the right foot. "Are there any weird Tu Humar rituals I should know about? That you know about, I mean?"
The silence that followed might have been Teyla wondering if he was drunk, or maybe just Teyla trying to wake up. Finally she said, "What sort of rituals? And how do you mean, weird?"
"Like ones involving giant penguins."
There was an even longer silence, then Teyla said, "I am not following you."
John opened his mouth to attempt to explain, though he wasn't sure if explanations would really help -- she kinda had to see it for herself -- when there was a hoarse, bass-pitched yell from somewhere outside, and the distinctive whine-pow! of Ronon's gun.
"Nevermind! Meet you outside!" John said, running for the door with gun in hand. "Ronon!" He yanked the door open, and he was actually going fast enough -- and was worried enough -- that he forgot about the damned giant penguin that had confronted him when he opened the door the first time, which had not been there when he'd gone to bed.
He collided with it.
John and whatever-the-hell-it-was went down on the squishy edge of the duck pond between the Tu Humar guest cabins, in an explosion of paper and something oddly sweet-smelling. He thrashed around and finally managed to get to his knees, gun out, looking around wildly for Ronon.
Who, as it turned out, was three cabins down, naked to the waist and staring ruefully at the smoking ruin of the whatever-it-was in front of his door.
Rodney's and Teyla's cabins also had the whatevers. They were about six feet tall, made of paper stretched over a wooden frame (as John could now see; he was lying in the ruins of one) and shaped like squat black-and-white somethings. Now that he was seeing them from more than a foot away, they looked less like penguins and more like some kind of marmot or woodchuck, sitting up on its stumpy back legs.
The door of Teyla's cabin opened and Teyla's head stuck out. She was wrapped in a blanket, her hair sticking out in all directions. She gazed for a moment, serenely, upon the object that had materialized on her doorstep, and then said with what John knew her well enough to know was a very studied calm, "Is this called a penguin on your world? It is known as a squonk in this galaxy." She blinked at the squonk for a moment longer, then at John, down on his knees. "I had forgotten that today was the Gifting of the Squonk."
"The what?" John said, because he really would like to salvage some shreds of dignity here, but it was difficult to do so without at least having some intel. The sweet smell and the slight stickiness underneath him made him look down, and he realized that the paper squonk had been filled with wrapped candies, which were now getting flattened under his knees and feet, pressed into the mud of the duck pond. The ducks were huddled at the far side of the pond, burbling nervously.
"It is a holiday for children --" Teyla cast a pointed look at both John, extricating himself from what he supposed could be considered an alien piñata, and Ronon, looking slightly sheepish as he holstered his gun "-- and visitors. It is celebrated only once every five years on Tu Humaria. Congratulations. I am going back to bed." Her door closed firmly.
Ronon's smoking squonk chose that moment to burst into flames.
Ronon stared at it for a moment -- he didn't seem to be totally awake yet, either -- and then gave it a push, tipping it into the duck pond. There was a great gout of steam and a loud hiss, and the paper melted sadly into the water. The ducks fled. "This is a weird planet," Ronon said.
"You're telling me, buddy. Can I get a hand up?"
"Can I have some of your candy?" Ronon countered.
"I'm sitting on it."
"Mine's been on fire," Ronon said, "and now it's in a duck pond."
"Point," John agreed as Ronon hoisted him out of the wreckage of the piñata. "Yeah, I suppose there's enough in even one of these things for all four of us."
Rodney's door cracked open. "Did someone say cand -- OH DEAR GOD!" The door slammed again.
John marked this down for possible prank value once they were back on Atlantis. "Relax, McKay; it's a piñata."
Rodney peeked out again, then very cautiously shuffled out and around the squonk to look at it from all sides. "Huh. Is that what that is?" He then took in the partially burned and still-smoking wooden frame jutting out of the duck pond, and then the flattened squonk in front of John's door. "Uh, what happened?"
"Ronon shot his piñata," John said.
Ronon gave him a flat glare. "At least I didn't charge out screaming and try to tackle it."
"That is not," John said with great dignity, "what happened at all."
Rodney poked it with a finger. It rustled. "How do you get the candy out?"
"Hand-to-hand combat, if you're Sheppard," said Ronon, who at the moment had the deadest deadpan face John had ever seen.
"C'mon, McKay, you don't know what to do with a piñata?" John said, steadfastly ignoring him.
"We had a piñata at Jeannie's fourth birthday party. She was terrified of it and hid in the kitchen for three hours." Rodney stared at it suspiciously. "Besides, how do you know they all have candy in them? What if some of them explode?"
"Teyla said that it's a holiday for kids. Why would they blow up their kids?"
Rodney looked like he was actually going to answer that question, but Ronon distracted him by ducking back into his cabin and coming out with his sword.
"Okay," Rodney said, retreating behind John, "that is serious overkill, right there."
Ronon neatly lopped off the head of the thing, checked inside the head -- for candy or booby traps, from the cautious way he was handling it -- and then chucked the empty head into the duck pond. "There," he said, satisfied.
The body was still standing in front of Rodney's door ... kind of macabre, in John's opinion, but hey, candy. Candy that hadn't been sat on or burned. It turned out, once he peeked inside, that the things weren't actually full of candy; it was attached to little strings all up and down the inside, like a candy inner lining. Kinda cool, actually.
Ronon picked it up.
"Mine!" Rodney protested immediately.
"Cool," Ronon said. "Party in your cabin, then." And he pushed his way inside, and dropped it on the floor, where it broke open and spilled candy all over the place.
By the time Teyla joined them -- neatly groomed as usual, but looking mildly disgruntled -- they'd eaten themselves to the point of mild nausea and were playing poker with candy rolls for chips.
"What are you doing?" Teyla said, and they all three jumped guiltily.
"Poker?"
"The point of the Gifting of the Squonk," Teyla said, pointing at the large pile of candy wrappers in an accusatory fashion, "is to bring together the people of Tu Humaria and their guests, as the guests are gifted the candy that has been painstakingly prepared, and then, at noon, the guests personally redistribute it to the children."
"Ah," John said, and quietly palmed the incriminating candy wrappers in his lap.
"You could have said!" Rodney protested.
"I was not thinking clearly," Teyla said, "because I was not awake, and the thought did not cross my mind that the obvious needed to be stated. If you were to find an unexpected, large pile of candy on your doorstep back on your home planet, would you eat it?"
"Yeah," Ronon said.
John couldn't help winding her up a little, even though he knew it was a terrible idea -- the opportunity came along so rarely. "Depends on what kind -- I mean, candy corn, hell no, but if it's Reese's, or Milky Way Midnights or something ..."
Teyla was smiling sweetly, which probably meant the other shoe was about to drop. "Do you know what happens to guests who do not have candy to offer?"
"Oh god, we're going to die," Rodney moaned. "I knew it was too good to be true. First they give us candy, then the axes come out."
Teyla stared at him. "What kind of holidays do you have on your planet? No ..." Her too-sweet smile returned. "A guest who cannot participate will be made into the Squonksday Fool."
Rodney shrank behind John. "Is that a kind of pudding? It's a kind of pudding, isn't it?"
"They're not going to eat you, Rodney. " At least John hoped not. He didn't think Teyla would look so smug if her teammates were about to be eaten.
"Of course not," Teyla said briskly. "You will merely be painted blue and have vegetables thrown at you. It is thought to bring good luck in the new year."
After a moment John said, "You're joking, right? Teyla? She's joking, right, guys?"
"If you will pardon me," still with that briskly cheerful air, "it is getting on towards noon, so my squonk and myself should be in the town square, where the men with the cans of blue paint will not be." Teyla turned and vanished briefly from view. She reappeared out the window, toting the squonk, which was considerably bigger than she was, but, obviously, not very heavy.
"She totally set us up for that on purpose," Rodney said darkly.
Ronon shook his head. "I think she's lying." But they all three stared after the small, and shrinking, figure, dwarfed by the giant paper squonk.
John looked back at his team. "The mission report for this planet is going to say, 'Spent night. Participated in local festival. Returned home.'"
There were nods all around; then all three of the male members of the team scrambled to their feet.
"Teyla!"
"Hey! Teyla! Can we help you with that?"
"Teyla! Come back!"
~~~
ETA: If it's any visual help, I sort of imagine a squonk looking kind of like a Totoro, only a bit slimmer and with much smaller ears. Also, a fool can in fact be a dessert, so Rodney is really not as wrong as everyone hopes he is.
Author: friendshipper
Word Count: 1800 wds
Rating: G, gen, team
Summary: Sometimes John just gets a feeling that this is going to be yet another day that's not going in the mission report. Humor, crack.
It was standing on John's doorstep when he poked his head out the door into the fresh, crisp, M28-549 morning.
John pulled his head very quickly back inside, slammed the door -- they didn't really slam; the Tu Humar used light wood slats and paper for everything -- and went to get his gun, which he really should have had in the first place. Then he wondered if maybe he was being a trifle paranoid, and radioed Teyla, who was usually a pretty good reality check, and, also, in the cabin next to his.
"Teyla? You awake?"
After some fumbling sounds, Teyla's voice said blearily, "Yes, John?"
Crap. Woke up Teyla. This day was not getting off on the right foot. "Are there any weird Tu Humar rituals I should know about? That you know about, I mean?"
The silence that followed might have been Teyla wondering if he was drunk, or maybe just Teyla trying to wake up. Finally she said, "What sort of rituals? And how do you mean, weird?"
"Like ones involving giant penguins."
There was an even longer silence, then Teyla said, "I am not following you."
John opened his mouth to attempt to explain, though he wasn't sure if explanations would really help -- she kinda had to see it for herself -- when there was a hoarse, bass-pitched yell from somewhere outside, and the distinctive whine-pow! of Ronon's gun.
"Nevermind! Meet you outside!" John said, running for the door with gun in hand. "Ronon!" He yanked the door open, and he was actually going fast enough -- and was worried enough -- that he forgot about the damned giant penguin that had confronted him when he opened the door the first time, which had not been there when he'd gone to bed.
He collided with it.
John and whatever-the-hell-it-was went down on the squishy edge of the duck pond between the Tu Humar guest cabins, in an explosion of paper and something oddly sweet-smelling. He thrashed around and finally managed to get to his knees, gun out, looking around wildly for Ronon.
Who, as it turned out, was three cabins down, naked to the waist and staring ruefully at the smoking ruin of the whatever-it-was in front of his door.
Rodney's and Teyla's cabins also had the whatevers. They were about six feet tall, made of paper stretched over a wooden frame (as John could now see; he was lying in the ruins of one) and shaped like squat black-and-white somethings. Now that he was seeing them from more than a foot away, they looked less like penguins and more like some kind of marmot or woodchuck, sitting up on its stumpy back legs.
The door of Teyla's cabin opened and Teyla's head stuck out. She was wrapped in a blanket, her hair sticking out in all directions. She gazed for a moment, serenely, upon the object that had materialized on her doorstep, and then said with what John knew her well enough to know was a very studied calm, "Is this called a penguin on your world? It is known as a squonk in this galaxy." She blinked at the squonk for a moment longer, then at John, down on his knees. "I had forgotten that today was the Gifting of the Squonk."
"The what?" John said, because he really would like to salvage some shreds of dignity here, but it was difficult to do so without at least having some intel. The sweet smell and the slight stickiness underneath him made him look down, and he realized that the paper squonk had been filled with wrapped candies, which were now getting flattened under his knees and feet, pressed into the mud of the duck pond. The ducks were huddled at the far side of the pond, burbling nervously.
"It is a holiday for children --" Teyla cast a pointed look at both John, extricating himself from what he supposed could be considered an alien piñata, and Ronon, looking slightly sheepish as he holstered his gun "-- and visitors. It is celebrated only once every five years on Tu Humaria. Congratulations. I am going back to bed." Her door closed firmly.
Ronon's smoking squonk chose that moment to burst into flames.
Ronon stared at it for a moment -- he didn't seem to be totally awake yet, either -- and then gave it a push, tipping it into the duck pond. There was a great gout of steam and a loud hiss, and the paper melted sadly into the water. The ducks fled. "This is a weird planet," Ronon said.
"You're telling me, buddy. Can I get a hand up?"
"Can I have some of your candy?" Ronon countered.
"I'm sitting on it."
"Mine's been on fire," Ronon said, "and now it's in a duck pond."
"Point," John agreed as Ronon hoisted him out of the wreckage of the piñata. "Yeah, I suppose there's enough in even one of these things for all four of us."
Rodney's door cracked open. "Did someone say cand -- OH DEAR GOD!" The door slammed again.
John marked this down for possible prank value once they were back on Atlantis. "Relax, McKay; it's a piñata."
Rodney peeked out again, then very cautiously shuffled out and around the squonk to look at it from all sides. "Huh. Is that what that is?" He then took in the partially burned and still-smoking wooden frame jutting out of the duck pond, and then the flattened squonk in front of John's door. "Uh, what happened?"
"Ronon shot his piñata," John said.
Ronon gave him a flat glare. "At least I didn't charge out screaming and try to tackle it."
"That is not," John said with great dignity, "what happened at all."
Rodney poked it with a finger. It rustled. "How do you get the candy out?"
"Hand-to-hand combat, if you're Sheppard," said Ronon, who at the moment had the deadest deadpan face John had ever seen.
"C'mon, McKay, you don't know what to do with a piñata?" John said, steadfastly ignoring him.
"We had a piñata at Jeannie's fourth birthday party. She was terrified of it and hid in the kitchen for three hours." Rodney stared at it suspiciously. "Besides, how do you know they all have candy in them? What if some of them explode?"
"Teyla said that it's a holiday for kids. Why would they blow up their kids?"
Rodney looked like he was actually going to answer that question, but Ronon distracted him by ducking back into his cabin and coming out with his sword.
"Okay," Rodney said, retreating behind John, "that is serious overkill, right there."
Ronon neatly lopped off the head of the thing, checked inside the head -- for candy or booby traps, from the cautious way he was handling it -- and then chucked the empty head into the duck pond. "There," he said, satisfied.
The body was still standing in front of Rodney's door ... kind of macabre, in John's opinion, but hey, candy. Candy that hadn't been sat on or burned. It turned out, once he peeked inside, that the things weren't actually full of candy; it was attached to little strings all up and down the inside, like a candy inner lining. Kinda cool, actually.
Ronon picked it up.
"Mine!" Rodney protested immediately.
"Cool," Ronon said. "Party in your cabin, then." And he pushed his way inside, and dropped it on the floor, where it broke open and spilled candy all over the place.
By the time Teyla joined them -- neatly groomed as usual, but looking mildly disgruntled -- they'd eaten themselves to the point of mild nausea and were playing poker with candy rolls for chips.
"What are you doing?" Teyla said, and they all three jumped guiltily.
"Poker?"
"The point of the Gifting of the Squonk," Teyla said, pointing at the large pile of candy wrappers in an accusatory fashion, "is to bring together the people of Tu Humaria and their guests, as the guests are gifted the candy that has been painstakingly prepared, and then, at noon, the guests personally redistribute it to the children."
"Ah," John said, and quietly palmed the incriminating candy wrappers in his lap.
"You could have said!" Rodney protested.
"I was not thinking clearly," Teyla said, "because I was not awake, and the thought did not cross my mind that the obvious needed to be stated. If you were to find an unexpected, large pile of candy on your doorstep back on your home planet, would you eat it?"
"Yeah," Ronon said.
John couldn't help winding her up a little, even though he knew it was a terrible idea -- the opportunity came along so rarely. "Depends on what kind -- I mean, candy corn, hell no, but if it's Reese's, or Milky Way Midnights or something ..."
Teyla was smiling sweetly, which probably meant the other shoe was about to drop. "Do you know what happens to guests who do not have candy to offer?"
"Oh god, we're going to die," Rodney moaned. "I knew it was too good to be true. First they give us candy, then the axes come out."
Teyla stared at him. "What kind of holidays do you have on your planet? No ..." Her too-sweet smile returned. "A guest who cannot participate will be made into the Squonksday Fool."
Rodney shrank behind John. "Is that a kind of pudding? It's a kind of pudding, isn't it?"
"They're not going to eat you, Rodney. " At least John hoped not. He didn't think Teyla would look so smug if her teammates were about to be eaten.
"Of course not," Teyla said briskly. "You will merely be painted blue and have vegetables thrown at you. It is thought to bring good luck in the new year."
After a moment John said, "You're joking, right? Teyla? She's joking, right, guys?"
"If you will pardon me," still with that briskly cheerful air, "it is getting on towards noon, so my squonk and myself should be in the town square, where the men with the cans of blue paint will not be." Teyla turned and vanished briefly from view. She reappeared out the window, toting the squonk, which was considerably bigger than she was, but, obviously, not very heavy.
"She totally set us up for that on purpose," Rodney said darkly.
Ronon shook his head. "I think she's lying." But they all three stared after the small, and shrinking, figure, dwarfed by the giant paper squonk.
John looked back at his team. "The mission report for this planet is going to say, 'Spent night. Participated in local festival. Returned home.'"
There were nods all around; then all three of the male members of the team scrambled to their feet.
"Teyla!"
"Hey! Teyla! Can we help you with that?"
"Teyla! Come back!"
~~~
ETA: If it's any visual help, I sort of imagine a squonk looking kind of like a Totoro, only a bit slimmer and with much smaller ears. Also, a fool can in fact be a dessert, so Rodney is really not as wrong as everyone hopes he is.
