every year, thanksgiving raises a very important question; also, halp!

Poll #1491470 very important poll!11!!1!eleventy-one!

what's the best kind of pie?

silly rabbit, there is no such thing as "batman pie" because that would be cannibalism!

Also, two weeks ago a few people left comments and in response I wound up writing almost 1,000 words I wouldn't have otherwise, so thanks to them and let's try it again!

All you have to do is write one sentence (or if you're feeling lazy/uninspired, a single word will do), such as: The sky is very green today, or I wish the unicorn would stop eating my roses. In return, you'll get the next bit of Things Already Seen. Which you may not care about, but I'm trying to get it out of my head so help me out, would you?
fast-forward a bit in the story:

The man standing in Mack's not-yet office doesn't look much like a conquering hero--more like someone who's been kicked a couple times too many and is bracing himself for the next blow.

"Sir," Sheppard says, and for all that Mack's been pissed about having the man forced on him, jammed into the chain of command like a puzzle piece that just doesn't fit and won't and doesn't want to--

Well, Mack would be dead if not for him, and likely a number of other people too, and somehow the Sheppard standing in front of him isn't the same Sheppard who'd smirked and slouched and just-so-barely skirted the edge of insubordination all through the weeks of preparation for the expedition. The veneer on this one is cracked and there's blood seeping through from somewhere, and all Mack wants to do is palm him off on the chaplain and tell him to stay there until whatever's broken has been fixed.

But he can't do that, so he just says "At ease, major," and waits for whatever fresh disaster is about to be sprung on him.