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You'd think one swamp would be pretty much like every other. Boggy, murky; vast stretches of grubby, squalid, semi-liquid nastiness that tries to suck you and half the stuff you're carrying 10 feet under. That sort of thing. You would also think that I'd have gotten out of the habit of assuming anything by now. After four plus years of jaunting around ‘Dr. Sagan's Neighborhood’ there should be nothing that surprises me anymore. But this stuff... Well, I wasn't expecting the local equivalent of the La Brea Tar Pits to come schlepping up out of some muck hole and start inching it's way towards me. Semi-sentient asphalt goes down on 'O'Neill's List of Galactic Attractions' as a 'New Thing',TM.
Okay. It's just a glop of sticky stuff. Sticky, smelly stuff. Sticky, smelly, repulsive stuff that seems to be developing an attraction to me. Great. Should I take this as an indicator of how the Universe views me? Sam gets all the 'Star Studs' trying to get a straight eyeful down her cleavage. Daniel has a woman on every planet and about one third of the guys wanting to make his tragic life all better. Teal'c is number one on every System Lord's 'I Really Want To Get You' popularity list. And me?
I'm being stalked by a tentacle of long-chain hydrocarbons with an attitude.
Sheesh. The universe has found a new way to let me know exactly where I sit on the cosmic food chain.
Speaking of food chain, it looks like this gook is trying to lick my... no... it is licking my boot. Serious gross out factor. I don't care what it's made of, I don't know half the places these boots have been and I sure wouldn't want to have them anywhere near my face... uh... pseudopod... UGH! Give me that back! What? No, you bastard, jerking my foot back does not mean grab the leg too. Christ, it's liked being chased by a ten pound block of Silly Putty.
Ah, man... not the pants. Eewh! It's seeping into the fabric. No way. Not gonna let this hap... It's slimy! No fair. I can do a lot of things if I have to, I mean God, Mom, Apple Pie and all, but not... oh shit... it's cold! Slug slimy cold. I am so not doing this!
Sorry, buster, but no refuge from a bad Japanese monster flick is gonna take over Momma O'Neill's little boy. Let's try giving the leg another yank.
Shit! Okay, Fly-boy, how the hell'd you manage to let it grab the other one? People are gonna be rolling on the floor peeing themselves when they find you hog-tied in a loosing battle with a wad of pond scum. Shoots the 'Dashing Hero' image right in the shorts. Or, in this case, both feet.
All right, enough is enough. Time to bring in the reinforcements.
"Oh, Daniel."
This has got to be one of the most embarrassing moments of my entire life. Well, actually, getting caught by Barbara's dad was pretty... Na. This one beats being chased five blocks in the dark, trying to keep my pants from falling off my skinny, teenage ass while a pissed off dad with absolutely no aim is trying to dust my tail with a shotgun full of rock salt. That’s back when I was ‘young, dumb and full o’ c-- Ah... let’s just say I had a full blown case of testosterone poisoning and let it go at that. Now I haven't got young or testosterone to fall back on. Just the dumb part.
So why am I planning to share this 'Kodak Moment' with Plant-boy? Well... misery loves company and when he sets his mind to it Daniel can be one of the most miserable people I know. Besides, get him back to my place, get a couple of shots of whatever poison I've got in the booze cabinet into him and I can convince him that it’s in both of our best interests that he shouldn’t remember a thing.
Oh, I can but hope.
Okay. Let's go for some options here. Maybe this stuff prefers the 'sweet and tender' approach rather then 'rough and tumble'. Maybe if I tried s-l-o-w-l-y e-a-s-i-n-g my way back. Try getting a little stretch and see just how far it's willing to go with this. All righty, Swamp Thing, it’s 'put up or shut up' time.
And just where in hell is the ‘Ditch Doctor’?
"Uh... Daniel. Sometime in this century would be fine."
Hey, I think I may be onto something here. It looks like it wants to be the stretcher, not the stretchee. Tough luck, sucker. Don't like being a rubber band? Then give *tug* me *tug* back *tug* my *tug* leg! *jerk*
*sploougsh!* *plop!!*... Ugghhh!
All Right! Chalk one up for homo sapiens. That's right, swamp breath... crawl back into your dismal little hole. I'll just keep backing up until you and I have a clear DMZ between us. Ah. Solid ground. And about fraggin' time. I was beginning to think I was gonna need to order wedding invitations and pick out a china pattern.
Speaking of time...
"Daniel... get it over here. Now!"
"Jack?"
Ah. Here comes one floppy hat followed by one floppy headed archaeologist. Look *this* way, Danny-boy.
"Now, Daniel."
My own personal file cabinet of useless facts and trivia finally zeros in on my voice, wandering his way through the weeds to end up in my private portion of the slough. And, being ‘Doctor Attentive’, tries to stroll into the exact same morass I just pulled myself out of. Whoa there, Big Fella! Well... at least you stopped when you slammed into me. Yes, Daniel. I flung my arm out there specifically just to watch you skid to a stop. Oh look, he's sending one of his 'beatifically confused' looks my way. Wish I could help you with this one, guy but I'm sans clue here myself.
"What's up, Jack?"
Using the barrel of my MP-5 as a pointer, I direct his attention first toward the pond of gunk in the middle of the clearing and then down toward the remaining effluvia still clinging to my boots and crusting on the lower parts of my pants.
"Jackson, what the hell is this?"
A question. Daniel loves questions so Daniel should love trying to figure out what this gluck is. He's crouching down putting himself almost face to appendage with it and giving it the 'hairy eyeball review'. Ouch! Hey, watch it with that stick there, Danny Boy. You wanna poke at it to try and get its attention, fine. Just don't perforate me while you're at it.
Good. He's rocking back on his heels. That’s always a positive sign.
"Well, Doctor? Got an id on this stuff?"
Ah, Daniel... please don't shake your head. 'Yes' is a nod. A nod is good. It gives the impression that you’ve got a handle on this ‘sweet mystery of life’ and can give me all the information I may need to make the necessary threat assessment. A shake translates from Jacksonease as 'Why'd'ja think I'd have a clue about this?' *Please* - no shake!
Shit. It's a shake. Well, it’s a safe bet there goes this pair of boots.
"Well Jack, right off the bat, I haven't a clue."
Ya see? A shake, not a nod.
"But we used to run across a compound that looked similar to this at some of the Celtic peat bog burial sites. We'd find it gathering in pools in the bottom of the pits... had some really fascinating characteristics..."
Oh Lord, not now, Mr. Wizard.
"Great. I'm thrilled. Now will you just tell me what the hell this stuff is?" My God! It’s actually trying to eat through my boot!
"Well, there was a long chemical name for it, but I'm not a biochemist. We just called it what the locals called it."
"Which was...?'
"Glae dubh."
"Which is?"
"Irish."
"O-kaay...?" Throw me a bone here, Doc!
"Irish. It's a language, Jack. A type of Gaelic."
"Right. I knew that, Daniel. Irish as in 'what is it' in English?"
Oh oh. He's getting that 'I really don't want to tell you, Jack, so don't ask me please?' look. And the head duck. He didn't just do the head duck, did he? Oh crap. And there goes the lip lick. The look, the head duck and the lip lick. Not good. One out of three is acceptable. Two out of three is tolerable. Three for three is 'I'm not gonna like this, am I?'
"I'm not gonna like this, am I, Jackson?"
"Well... the translation is 'black glue', but everyone on the dig just called it..... murphfelmumbble...
"A little louder, Daniel. I can't hear you."
"Umm...'bog snot'... "
"WHAT. DID. YOU. CALL. IT!?"
"Bog snot."
"Bog snot?"
"Bog snot."
"Oh God! That's... that's... GROSS!!"
"Well... You *are* the one who asked..." He's looking down at my pant legs and boots again. "Uh... Jack? You might want to try to get that stuff off your clothes. I think it's trying to eat your boots."
Sweet.
Finis
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