Carter: Look Jay, I know you feel bad about this.
Felger: What’s to feel bad about? I mean it probably took the Ancients a thousand years to build the Gate system and I wrecked it in a single day. Not to mention the fact that I’ve isolated us from all the off-world resources we’re going to need to defend ourselves. Leaving us sitting ducks for the next Goa’uld attack. But who cares.
Carter: Jay, I’m not perfect.
Felger: See, you have to say that because you’re modest. Which is just another aspect of your perfection.
Hammond: Have you and Dr. Felger made any progress?
Carter: I can’t find him.
Hammond: Excuse me?
Carter: Apparently Dr. Felger has left the base. I think the pressure was getting to him.
Hammond: I thought you said all he needed was a little support.
Carter: Yeah. I may have been wrong about that.
Carter: Okay, I admit it. He’s a complete screw-up. He makes rash decisions based on sketchy evidence, he’s clumsy in the lab, he’s always late. And, quite frankly, it wouldn’t kill him to ease up on the aftershave. But the fact is, sir, he’s at Stargate Command because he’s a brilliant scientist. And no one understands that virus better than he does.
Felger: You know, before I joined the SGC my idea of a high-pressure situation was defending a mathematical thesis in front of a room full of middle-aged, balding men. I don’t do so well when the fate of the Universe is hanging in the balance now.
Felger: It’s pretty cool, isn’t it? You and I working together. We’re like the intellectual Butch and Sundance of the SGC.
Carter: Butch and Sundance got cornered and killed by the Bolivian army.
Felger: That’s a good point, yeah.