Title: You might be a redneck if...
Author: Shenandoah Risu
: T
Content Flags: alien toilet humor of the worst kind
Spoilers: Season 2 "Awakening"
Characters: David Telford, the Ursini
Word Count: 585
Author's Notes
: Written for Theme Week Day 4 at the LJ Comm stargateland.
Disclaimer: I don't own SGU. I wouldn't know what to do with it. Now, Young... Young I'd know what to do with. ;-)
Thanks for reading! Feedback = Love. ;-)


You might be a redneck if...

You might be a redneck if…

… You see a sign that reads "Say no to crack", and it reminds you to pull your jeans up.

- Jeff Foxworthy

Telford slowly takes his hands off the console as the aliens advance on him from all sides, chittering and chirping.

"Hey, look, you guys – I'm not touching anything, OK? Nuh-uh, not anymore."

Louder clicks follow. Telford raises his hands in the universal gesture of surrender.

"Please don't hurt me?"

The aliens look at each other, making little noises which Telford assumes are snippets of conversation. He backs away from the console.

For some time he just stands there, watching, as the aliens busy themselves with the control interface, and soon they appear to have forgotten about him.

He creeps along the wall to the exit and slips into the corridor.

"Well, shoot," he mutters, sighing with relief as he's finally a good bit away.

And suddenly he realizes he has to pee like a racehorse. All this excitement!

And thus begins a frantic search for appropriate facilities. A few hours later he just wants to find a remote corner to relieve himself, when he hears the unmistakable sound of a toilet flushing.

"What the –"

And sure enough, there it is. He pushes the door open…

One of the aliens grins up at him, spindly arms crossed over its chest. Telford recoils in shock, but the alien raises a clawed hand and motions at the toilet in the corner.

"Um, thanks, I think," Telford mouths and holds the door open for the creature.

The alien shakes its head and motions again.

"Great," Telford mutters. "A whole universe full of critters and I end up with one who has a toilet fetish."

But at this point he's truly desperate, so he approaches the loo, unzips his pants and has at it, groaning with relief. The alien watches him with undisguised interest. When he's done he reaches for the flush handle but the alien slaps his hand away gently.

"What now," Telford grouses. The alien cocks its head and makes a downward and twirling motion with its hand.

"When in Rome…" Telford thinks, drops his pants and slowly turns around in a circle. As he's facing away from the alien it suddenly emits a high-pitched squeal and scurries over to a small cabinet in the corner. Motioning at Telford to stand still it digs through a drawer and re-emerges with – and Telford can hardly believe his eyes – a roll of duct tape. Or whatever the Ancients' equivalent of duct tape is.


The alien approaches with a two foot long strip and quick as lightning smacks it across Telford's butt cheeks.


A second strip below the first one.


And another one.

Then it pulls up his pants.

Telford turns around and kneels down with some difficulty, wincing as the tape pulls out a good bit of hair.

"Dude, I appreciate it, but it's not broken. This is what it normally looks like. So, I'm OK, all right?"

The alien whistles and pats his shoulder, then holds out its hand.

Telford sighs and takes it.

As he allows the alien to lead him back to the others (a bit stiff-legged, mind you) he thinks that maybe those guys are rather caring folks, and he might be all right after all.

It takes him weeks to round up all the duct tape on the ship and hiding it, thwarting the aliens' constant efforts to say no to his crack.