Rodney McKay expertly wove his vehicle through the deadly haphazardly torn landscape. He was mastering
this freestyle competition. He could beat anything thrown at him.
articulated as he brought his Ferrari to a halt.
He sized up the the jagged mountain, covered with green spindles. He could
take it. He lined up the tiny car with his fingers on the runway and mumbled under his breath,
with a startling "VROOM!" he gave the matchbox car a violent push and sent it up the carefully crafted ramp of brightly coloured
presents. The car never made it. As it slid back down the ramp towards him, things got worse.
He jumped. Sprung.
He turned very slowly to face the dressing gown clad, watch waving owner of the Christmas tree. Elizabeth planted her hands
on her hips and sighed,
"That was your son's present. Remember?"
"Oh...was it?" Rodney grinned, but knew it wouldn't
get him off the hook.
Elizabeth shook her head in amazement,
"I wonder about your age, sometimes. Well, I expect that
wrapped up again by dawn."
Rodney put on his best puppy dog expression and stood up. He drew his wife into a hug and rubbed
her back soothingly. He kissed her neck gently.
"No," Mrs McKay said.
Rodney shot her a hurt look.
"No," She repeated,
"I am NOT wrapping it up again."
"Alright. But next time you'll be wrapping them
"Oh, Lizbeth..." Rodney grinned sheepishly, "I may have unwrapped John's present too."
want to know is why he gets a jacket and I get a scarf. He's not your husband."
Elizabeth winked very slowly at him and
"But he doesn't get dessert."