"What if we use domestic marble instead of Italian?"

Rodney didn't even bother to check who it was anymore. Only Sheppard would call at 5:00 in the morning to ask about marble.

"No," Rodney snapped. "You will use the specified finishes."

"Are you sure?" Sheppard sounded perky.

"I'm sure. And stop calling me."

"Aw, McKay - you know you like it."

Rodney let his frustration bleed into his voice. "No," he said. "I don't. Stop calling me. Build the fucking building the way I designed it or I'll fire your ass and get a new contractor. And don't call me anymore." He slammed the phone down.

He woke up the next morning at 5:00, but the phone didn't ring. The next morning, he woke up at 5:00, but the phone didn't ring. The phone continued not ringing for eight more days.

On the eleventh morning, the phone rang at 10:00, and a different guy asked Rodney if he wanted seven or eight banks of elevators. Rodney didn't even have the heart to yell at him.

On the twelfth day, Rodney woke up at 5:00 and called John. "Fine," he said. "Use the domestic marble."

"Cool," John said. "Talk to you tomorrow."