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This was a huge waste of time.
"Where are we going?" Rodney demanded, wiping sweat and stinging sunscreen from his eyes (he'd have to readjust his formula!) It was a goddamned jungle. His clothes stuck everywhere, and those red welts were clearly symptoms of alien malaria.
"Patience, Rodney," Sheppard called from some distance ahead, just as a branch whipped Rodney's cheek.
"I'm out of that!" Rodney yelled, stopping mid-trail and resolving not to take another step.
"Will this help?" Sheppard reappeared through the dense brush. Carrying a ZPM.
"Oh, well..." Rodney shrugged.
"Here you go," Sheppard laughed, handing it over.