(no subject)
A receptionist sat behind a desk next to an old-fashioned switchboard, occasionally snacking on a piece of peanut brittle. She was screening the incoming muses for the Writer who had sequestered herself in the Green Room. Glancing at the line forming up since that morning, the receptionist sighed. Her job didn't pay nearly enough for this.
"Next!"
The next muse applicant stepped forward. He looked oddly familiar with short dark hair and hazel eyes. He wore a loose flowing outfit more suited to a desert climate than dingy wartime Pittsburgh.
"State your name and primary affiliation."
"Tanith." A longer pause. "Tok'ra."
"Sorry," the receptionist returned to her peanut brittle, "you belong next door with Isabeau. This writer doesn't accept Stargate muses."
"But she has to take me. She already has two variants on me."
"Sorry, Tanith, those are the rules. Besides she gave me a message somewhere here." She found a pink slip of paper. The note read simply: "Once a Goa'uld, always a Goa'uld." The receptionist shrugged. "Guess she trusts you about as much as the Stargate people do."
Tanith threw up his hands. "I can take the hint. I'll come back later, maybe she'll change her mind... after all, I do keep coming back." The rebuffed muse stalked out of the door.
"I don't doubt it," the receptionist sighed. "Next!"
"Are we in the right place, Alex?" The teenage girl asked from her wheelchair, looking around the radio station. "This doesn't look any of the myths we've visited before."
"Well, your computer program plotted the Gorgos' stone location here... Though why Dad would come back in time to here is beyond me."
"And you two are?" The receptionist asked, taking pity on the brother and sister.
Alex said. "Cleo and Alex Bellows."
The receptionist consulted her list. "Oh, yes, you're expected." She added. "I believe Mr. Giles vouched for your arrival. Apparently he was old friends with your father and Mr. Asher."
"Daddy?" Cleo looked around. "Has he been here?"
"Honey, everyone's been here. Go on in, she'll see you."
[For those who miss the last reference, Cleo and Alex are the two main characters from PBS' "Mythquest" series. Sunday morning television rears its ugly head again.]
"Next!"
The next muse applicant stepped forward. He looked oddly familiar with short dark hair and hazel eyes. He wore a loose flowing outfit more suited to a desert climate than dingy wartime Pittsburgh.
"State your name and primary affiliation."
"Tanith." A longer pause. "Tok'ra."
"Sorry," the receptionist returned to her peanut brittle, "you belong next door with Isabeau. This writer doesn't accept Stargate muses."
"But she has to take me. She already has two variants on me."
"Sorry, Tanith, those are the rules. Besides she gave me a message somewhere here." She found a pink slip of paper. The note read simply: "Once a Goa'uld, always a Goa'uld." The receptionist shrugged. "Guess she trusts you about as much as the Stargate people do."
Tanith threw up his hands. "I can take the hint. I'll come back later, maybe she'll change her mind... after all, I do keep coming back." The rebuffed muse stalked out of the door.
"I don't doubt it," the receptionist sighed. "Next!"
"Are we in the right place, Alex?" The teenage girl asked from her wheelchair, looking around the radio station. "This doesn't look any of the myths we've visited before."
"Well, your computer program plotted the Gorgos' stone location here... Though why Dad would come back in time to here is beyond me."
"And you two are?" The receptionist asked, taking pity on the brother and sister.
Alex said. "Cleo and Alex Bellows."
The receptionist consulted her list. "Oh, yes, you're expected." She added. "I believe Mr. Giles vouched for your arrival. Apparently he was old friends with your father and Mr. Asher."
"Daddy?" Cleo looked around. "Has he been here?"
"Honey, everyone's been here. Go on in, she'll see you."
[For those who miss the last reference, Cleo and Alex are the two main characters from PBS' "Mythquest" series. Sunday morning television rears its ugly head again.]