“There aren’t any tapioca trees in Florida,” Daniel Jackson said suddenly.

“You don’t say,” Jack O’Neill responded, his tone absent. His eyes were fixed on the hockey highlights on ESPN.

“I do say,” Daniel stated emphatically. “Oh, and Sam said to tell you that she’s naked and covered in chocolate, in case you’re interested.”

“That’s nice.” The Wild won again! Yeah!

“Teal’c ate seventeen bowls of blue jell-o and flushed his symbiote down the toilet. Now he’s doing Elvis impersonations in Las Vegas.”

“Oh?” Come on! How could they give him a penalty for that?

“Cassie changed her name to Twinkletoes Starburst Fairy Nymph and climbed a giant redwood tree. She’s going to be there for the next five years, campaigning to save the whales.”

“Hmm.”

“Yeah, and wait til you hear what Siler did. He joined the Tok’ra and got a female symbiote, and now he’s a cross-dresser named Tok’ra Spice.”

“Uh-huh.”

“HA!” Daniel shouted, making Jack jump a foot. “I’ve proven it! You don’t listen to me!”

“Everybody knows tapioca trees don’t grow in Florida,” Jack returned matter-of-factly. “Tell Sam I’d be interested if not for the regs. Teal’c doesn’t have enough hair to impersonate Elvis; he’ll need a good wig. We’ll have to send food up for Cassie, or should I say Twinkletoes Starburst Fairy Nymph. Tell Siler that ‘Tok’ra Spice’ is already taken.” With an impish grin, he turned back to the TV. “Anything else, Danny boy?”

For once in his life, Daniel Jackson was completely and utterly speechless.