[He slips again when he hears Sheppard in his head (it doesn't improve his mood) and this time the mud ruins the rest of his already speckled uniform, all the way up to his face. Rodney scrambles to his feet, turns, enraged, pointing an accusing finger at the surrounding woods.]

Oh sure, you say that now, Percy Jackson! But how do I know you're not gonna cut my gut open and feast on my innards in some disgusting spagetthi plate slurping manner, huh? How do you know?