by Maureen S. O'Brien (mobrien at

Stargate belongs to Centropolis Productions. Stargate: SG-1 belongs to MGM, Double Secret Productions and all that. Big Guy and Rusty the Boy Robot belongs to Frank Miller and Geof Darrow, Dark Horse Entertainment, and Columbia Tristar. None of them are responsible for this, and I doubt they want to be.

Suddenly, a giant silver form dropped on Apophis' head.

"You can't do this!" Apophis screamed, his voice rather muffled. "I am a god!"

Big Guy's voice rang out clearly. "I've only got one God, mister, and He sure as shootin' ain't no overgrown slug."

"Bellyflop!" Rusty the Boy Robot told the SG-1 team, watching the one-sided battle between giant robot and megalomaniacal parasite from about a city block away. "Another one of Big Guy's classic moves! And now for the Glory Stomp...and the Kentucky Crusher...and the Titanic...."

"Interesting," said Teal'c. "But why does he not use his weaponry?"

Rusty shrugged. "Dunno. Normally the Big Guy would've used some missiles or machine guns or anti-terrorist magpoppers or something by now."

Daniel cleared his throat. "After the Big Guy stopped Apophis from implanting Erika...uh, Dr. Slate...with a Goa'uld, I mentioned Apophis' little habit of returning from the dead. The Big Guy said something about taking a more hands-on approach to the problem."

Rusty nodded wisely. "Dr. Slate's a friend of Big Guy's, and Big Guy doesn't like people hurting his friends. Or sequels."

"He also said something about sending Apophis' remains into the fiery heart of the Sun," Daniel reported.

"Coooool!" said Rusty. "I've never been to the Sun!"

Teal'c nodded slowly. "That might do it. Unless, of course, Apophis has some formerly unknown ability to regenerate himself from the energies of...." He blinked. "No. That would be silly."

"Hey, Rusty. Thought you said robots don't hurt humans," O'Neill said, watching his second favorite secret fantasy (the one that didn't involve Samantha Carter) unfold before his eyes.

"Thought you said Apophis isn't human," Rusty answered.

"Huh. Good point. Say, kid, why don't you show us how that nifty green stuff in your fingers works?"

"My nucleoprotonic energy beams? Okey-dokey!" Rusty flew to Big Guy's side and assisted Big Guy in turning Apophis into extruded Goa'uld meat byproducts.

"Nice kid," O'Neill said. "Say, Carter, do you think this time Apophis'll stay dead?"

He got no answer, turned, and saw why. Carter was deep in conversation with Dr. Slate. They looked up at him simultaneously and stopped talking.

O'Neill nodded to them. "What's up, Carter?"

"Erika and I were just discussing the possibility of creating and controlling wormholes in near-Earth orbit to produce limitless energy and stop those darned rolling blackouts."

"Isn't that overkill?" the other woman said. "Surely ordinary microfusion is enough to supply the world's energy needs."

"Well, it might be if we had it in our universe," Carter said. "How in the world do you....?"

O'Neill shook his head. "Just girl talk, huh? Decide the future of the human race among yourselves. I'll just be over here, watching Apophis get turned into...."

"....a little pulp fiction!" Big Guy roared.


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