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Teyla's... um, angels, or something
There are things I should be working on, because... well, there are lots of things to do, but it's been a week. Not only did we have a Major Historical Event in the election of Barack Obama to the office of President (Woo hoo! Woo hoo!), but a Somewhat Minor Historical Event in my submission of my dissertation proposal and chapter to the graduate college so I can defend them.
Woo hoo! Woo hoo!
Anyway, my roommate has been watching Charlie's Angels (the series) for some women in popular culture class, and...
[TEYLA, VOICEOVER] Once upon a time there were three little boys who went to the police academy. To be more precise, two went to the police academy and the third went to university, where he received double doctorates in physics and chemistry, and then went on to criminal investigation. At any rate, they were assigned very hazardous duties.
[Scenes of Ronon being reassigned to desk duty--again--, John at his desk folding paper airplanes, Rodney shouting at other people in a laboratory, and something bursting into flame in the background.]
[TEYLA, VOICEOVER] But I took them away from all that. Ah? My name is Teyla.
Think of it! Teyla is the mysterious benefactor/owner of a private investigations agency, Woolsey is her assistant and liaison (Woolsey SO EQUALS Bosley), Ronon is the weapons/hand to hand expert whose specialty is leaping out from behind doors to attack his unsuspecting friends (who have come to help him out) and saying "I could have shot you", John is the one who never sees it coming (and is supposed to be the breaking and entering specialist, but always gets caught), and Rodney is the brains.
There'd be a lot of slinky clothes, swimming, dramatic poses, and even more sexual innuendo. And, of course, boys getting in trouble that is 100% avoidable, such as wandering in the apartment of a suspected murderer, wandering into an abandoned warehouse on the edge of town, or going on high-speed car chases over mountain roads.
y/y?
I'm sorry, this is what my brain does when I don't keep an eye on it.
.eta: I have been meaning to post it, but I am dumb and forgetful... anyway *cough* Over at
artword, the ever-so-awesome
newkidfan has started posting the fifteen stories and art pieces from the Round Robin challenge. Woo hoo! I have participated in a wee bit of writing here, and committed art here and here. Go checkitouuuut!
Woo hoo! Woo hoo!
Anyway, my roommate has been watching Charlie's Angels (the series) for some women in popular culture class, and...
[TEYLA, VOICEOVER] Once upon a time there were three little boys who went to the police academy. To be more precise, two went to the police academy and the third went to university, where he received double doctorates in physics and chemistry, and then went on to criminal investigation. At any rate, they were assigned very hazardous duties.
[Scenes of Ronon being reassigned to desk duty--again--, John at his desk folding paper airplanes, Rodney shouting at other people in a laboratory, and something bursting into flame in the background.]
[TEYLA, VOICEOVER] But I took them away from all that. Ah? My name is Teyla.
Think of it! Teyla is the mysterious benefactor/owner of a private investigations agency, Woolsey is her assistant and liaison (Woolsey SO EQUALS Bosley), Ronon is the weapons/hand to hand expert whose specialty is leaping out from behind doors to attack his unsuspecting friends (who have come to help him out) and saying "I could have shot you", John is the one who never sees it coming (and is supposed to be the breaking and entering specialist, but always gets caught), and Rodney is the brains.
There'd be a lot of slinky clothes, swimming, dramatic poses, and even more sexual innuendo. And, of course, boys getting in trouble that is 100% avoidable, such as wandering in the apartment of a suspected murderer, wandering into an abandoned warehouse on the edge of town, or going on high-speed car chases over mountain roads.
y/y?
I'm sorry, this is what my brain does when I don't keep an eye on it.
.eta: I have been meaning to post it, but I am dumb and forgetful... anyway *cough* Over at
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CONSIDER IT WELL, ANAT.
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Imagine them running down the street, chasing after a murderer, or jumping out of exploding buildings while awesome electronic disco music plays in the background!
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I WANT TO SEE THIS SO MUCH!
(and good luck with your defence!)
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And thank you on the defense! It'll be in a few weeks, once I get the profs. to cooperate *crosses fingers*
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Also, Sheppard would clearly be asked to seduce mature ladies for secret documents belonging to their evil husbands, and stuff. The Angels would wear black catsuits that Rodney would hate and loathe, and it would all be unspeakably awesome.
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Sheppard would clearly be asked to seduce mature ladies for secret documents belonging to their evil husbands
And he would be so incredibly, horribly awkward at it, and yet paradoxically good, even though there is that one time with the mature lady who stalks him, and the other time when the mature lady turns out to be the bad guy... Rodney doesn't let John forget about that.
I would gleefully fantasize about it being a film project written by D-Hew for the now-unemployed SGA cast.
If I were God, I would speak to D-Hew and command him to do this.
DAVID HEWLETT, THIS IS GOD.
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Are awesome.
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And okay, in a departure from Charlie... can Teyla please come to their rescue now and then? :D
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Oh dear god, the poses alone would make the entire thing worthy, but it is ALL made of win.
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Yes, that was the one difficulty with Radek and Woolsey, who are suited temperamentally to it but not, alas, um... gonadically? Is that a word? Does it invoke a strange mix of horror and hilarity in you?
But I think Miko would be awesome :D Although Elizabeth has the organizational skills/put-upon look perfected... *ponders*
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Oh, god, trying to disguise Ronon and his dreads - one awful oversized wig after another, and him glaring at the first person to suggest dying them.
John in horrible pornstaches! Rodney with the Q-like gadgets!
I am now waiting for this to come to fruition. I can be patient.
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