Dr Jackson, PhD – Aged 8
By Eilidh


“Mr. O’Neill?”


Blasted telemarket callers.  Whatever this lady is selling, I’m not buying.  I’m hanging up in, 3… 2…

“Oh, excuse me, sir, I didn’t know.  Colonel O’Neill, my name is Ms Winthorpe.  I’m Daniel’s grade three teacher.”

Crud,!  I take that back.  Put the telemarketing girl back on.  Two things in life that scare me most – Big honkin’ bugs that take a man away in the darkness of the night, and grade school teachers. 

“He’s not in any trouble is he?”

Oh, what am I thinking? Of course he is.  Daniel O’Neill you are so sending me greyer!  Greyer?  Is that a word?  Grey-er… yup, think so.

“Ah, every parent’s first reaction. No, well, not really.  I’m calling in regards to his ancient history project.”

Where did I see that last?  On the bench top? No, his desk?  Bathroom!  What is it with this kid and being creative on the toilet?  I bet he’s left it here somewhere!  Kid is such a goofball.

“Let me guess, he forgot to hand it in?  Danny can be a bit forgetful at times.  I’ll make sure he packs it in his bag for tomorrow.”

Note to self – pack the damn project.  I so need a secretary.

“Oh, I’ve got it right in front of me.  A veritable masterpiece.”

“You have? Good, well, he did put quite a lot of effort into it.”

Hours and hours of effort.  Got square eyes from staring at the computer screen all night.  And what’s with giving that amount of homework in grade three?  Back in my day…

“And it really shows.  No, it’s about the content of his project.”

“Ancient Egypt, wasn’t it?”

Ancient something-or-rather.  Kill me know, I’m too old for this crap.  What was this woman’s name again?

“It was.  I’m most impressed with the depth of information he provided, which leaves me wondering about how much assistance he had.”

“None from me.  My knowledge of history doesn’t extend beyond the last ten years worth of hockey results.  This was all Danny’s work.”

Do’h, way to go, Jack, make yourself look really intelligent in front of his teacher.  Wonder how old she is?

“It was?”

“I said it was, you doubting me?”

Go on, say you doubt me.  I’m so gonna go black ops on your a-.

“Not at all, but you have to understand, this isn’t the kind of work we expect a third grader to hand in.  I’ve shown it to the head of the history department, Mr Tutt, and he agrees that Daniel must have had some help.”

“Well, he did use the internet.”

The head of the history department is called Mr Tutt?  Mr Tutt? Now that’s funny!  Let me guess, he’s married to Ankesenamun?  Crap, how do I know this stuff? Why do I know this stuff?

“Hmm, Mr Tutt thought some of the wording was familiar.”

Go Danny!  Bet you wrote it all in those hieroglyphy things and King Tutt understood every word.  Wait!  Familiar?  What do you mean, familiar?

“What?  I mention the internet and you leap to plagiarism as an excuse?  Daniel is a very bright kid, too bright sometimes.  I can tell you now that everything in that project was his own work.”

“You’re sure of that?”

No, I’m just saying that because I like the sound of my own voice.  Of course I’m sure!


Yep, that sounded pretty sure to me. 

“On the back of his project he has given a rather detailed bibliography.”

Sounds religious.


“We’ve checked his work against the author he credited for every reference book he used.”

Ahh, bibliography.  I knew that.  Whoa, back it up here.  The author he credited for every reference book.  Uh-oh.  Danger, Will Robinson.

“And again, I say… and?”

Act dumb, Jack.  You are innately qualified!

“I’m sorry, Colonel O’Neill, but it appears Daniel has directly copied the works of a Doctor Jackson straight into his own project.”

“Oh, Lord!”

You didn’t!  You little sh-!

“I’m sorry?”

“Oh, um, nothing.  Look, this is going to take some creative explaining.”

You did!  Daniel Jackson O’Neill, you and I are sooo going to have a long chat!


The End

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