"We need flamethrowers."
Sam looked up from the form she was filling out and raised an eyebrow. "Sir?"
Jack spread white-bandaged hands in an oh-so-innocent this should be obvious gesture. "Seriously. We're Plucky Earthlings fighting off Alien Invasions every other week, and we don't have flamethrowers? No wonder we keep getting our asses kicked."
"I'll be sure to add it to the requisition recommendations section," she said dryly, still trying to figure out how one couched a proper military explanation for one thoroughly salted and scorched lab in the aftermath of the Battle of the Salt Shakers.
Some of the Marines had already submitted reports under that title, she was sure of it. The red mark on Hammond's forehead from banging his head on his desk was a definite clue. This was definitely one incident destined to go down in the annals of SGC legend.
On top of that, she had to explain why one very expensive heavy-insulation super-cooling thermomagnetic freezer was marked OFF LIMITS – DO NOT OPEN! In salt-crusted spray paint, with every biohazard and warning label they'd been able to dig up slapped on the door for good measure. Given that it had been Heather Dyne's lab, a lot of those read EXPLOSIVE and FLAMMABLE – and for that matter, it had been all Sam could do to keep Jack from painting the message on the door in the leftover Sterno after Zuko put the flames out and setting it on fire all over again.
Hell, she'd even have let him do it, if not for the danger that the heat might damage the vacuum-sealed insulation. No one wanted to take any chances on letting their ice genie out of its bottle.