Colonel Jack O'Neill was not in a happy mood. Bad enough he had the graveyard shift, he didn't need the colors to keep shifting on top of that. Nor did he need incompetence. Or idiocy. And people thought he was the dumb one. Alright, time to address the issue.
"Alright, stop shifting your ground! I just got used to the red shift and now you've changed it to blue!" he barked to the technician responsible. "If you know how to go back to full color mode, do it. If you don't know for sure, leave it."
The technician nodded, not saying a word, though he shifted from one foot to the other uneasily.
"And Walter, I didn't ask for a stick shift car, I asked him to stick to his shift, whether it was red, blue, orange or...polka-dotted yellow!"
Jack shook his head as he walked back to the briefing room where he had left his coffee, muttering to himself, "I really should talk to General Hammond about some personnel shift, because I don't like this shifty looking technician." He'd keep his eyes out for anything suspicious.
"Uhm, Sir, you asked for an orange?" The fruit was carefully set on the table.
Jack closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Please, Walter, tell me you do not have a polka-dotted yellow bikini here as well."
"Well, Sir, it's not a bikini per se... I think. Uhm, we were trying to shift the stains out of these shifts that were left after we helped that group of refugees from PX-"
"I really don't want to hear! Back to your station, Walter."
Man, he hoped this shift would be over soon. What was next, a shape-shifter?
Edited at 2014-04-11 20:18 (UTC)