lierdumoa | Fic: Mutability 1/?

Title: Mutability
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Pairing: Sheppard/Mckay
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Rodney gets turned into a woman. Mad hijinks ensue. Spoilers through 2.09 "Aurora."
A/N: Thanks to

adrienne2,

fashes,

rageprufrock,

spaggel,

seperis and

z_rayne for the cheerleading, the brainstorming, the editing, and most of all for the hand holding. Thanks also to Scott, for leaving behind that bottle of Venezuelan rum when he moved out of the room I now live in. Cheers.
Goto: part 1|part 2

part 1: intelligent design

"I need you to touch this for me."

"Well, when you say it like that."

Rodney shoved a device into John's hands."I've tried myself but it refuses to do anything."

"What is it?"

"We don't know yet. We tried a few scans, but all we got was an indistinct energy signature. If we can turn it on, then we can figure out what it does and probably find some notes on it in the Ancient database."

John cast his eyes around the room, to where the rest of the science team was looking on with avid interest. He knew better than to argue when the entire engineering contingent of Atlantis had that glint in their eyes. He picked up the object, a strange heptagonal box approximately the size of his fist, and thought, 'On!' as loudly as possible.

"Huh."

"Huh? What do you mean, huh?"

"It's already on. I think it might be locked to you. Like the shield thing."

"How can it be locked to me? It didn't do anything for me!"

John sighed, turning his head to avoid Rodney's crazed glare. "Well, it's on, okay? Trust me. Maybe if you tell it to 'activate' instead of just turn on. I think it's in standby mode or something."

Rodney pondered that for a second, then reached to pick it up. Before his hand got within touching range, the device suddenly buzzed into active mode, emitting two bright white beams the first of which seemed to scan it's way down Rodney's body, freezing him in place, the second of which followed the first, leaving alterations in its wake.

Rather significant alterations. John dropped his hand to his sidearm on reflex. And Rodney had wanted him to activate this thing? "McKay, what is going on."

No reply came.

"McKay?!" John was just about to yell for Carson and Elizabeth on his comm when the box shut off, leaving Rodney—Rodney?

"What happened? Am I dead? I thought I was dead for a—"

Okay, yes Rodney, just. Different.

John stared as Rodney lifted his hand to wrap careful fingers around his throat. "Why is my voice...." Rodney dropped his eyes downward and stared. "Oh. Well then." His hand slid off his throat, down his collarbone towards his chest, where his fingers then curled around one.

Not-pectoral.

And gave an experimental squeeze.

"It's a sex change device," Rodney said, his voice creepily calm.

"I can see that," John croaked. The rest of the room stared on in silence.

John glanced around the lab to where the members of the science team were all staring dumbly before his eyes were drawn inexorably back to Rodney's altered form. Rodney was a girl. He had girl parts. John shook his head, then tried to blink the image away, then having managed only to give himself a headache, went back to just plain staring.

Rodney's middle-aged spread seemed to have relocated to, well, all the right places, really. His jaw was narrower, his face almost heart shaped, and fuller lips framed his wide, expressive mouth. His receding hairline had been mysteriously restored to a full head of inch-and-a-half long hair that stood on end with static electricity, probably an aftereffect of the beam. He reminded John oddly of the screaming bull dyke from the pride parade his grad school roommate accidentally taped while trying to record basketball via the cable channels they were stealing from the guy in apartment 201. John still has that tape stashed at the bottom of his porn collection back in Antarctica right under the issue of Hot Peruvian Dancers!. And oh God, he was not popping a boner over Atlantis' chief scientist. Really, really not.

"This city hates me." Rodney dropped his hand from his breast. It bounced, ever so slightly.

John bit his lips closed just in time to stop the whimper from escaping.

Rodney stalked over to his desk, hips swaying awkwardly as he found his new center of balance. John found himself mesmerized, eyes catching on the line of Rodney's back, the indentation of his waist, the outward curve of his hips, Rodney's fucking perfect ass.

Girl parts.

Rodney slumped down into his chair and poured himself a large cup of coffee. "Everybody back to work," he snapped. For once, all members of his team followed his directive without argument. He took a long, slow gulp of his coffee before he turned to John, who was still standing midway between Rodney's desk and the door. "Tell Dr. Weir to meet me in the infirmary right away."

John swallowed heavily and nodded.

"The changes go much deeper than the cosmetic," Carson said after three full body scans, two blood samples and a skin scraping. "This is really quite fascinating."

"Oh, well I'm glad my feeling violated is fascinating for you," Rodney spat from his seat on the hospital bed, arms fighting to hold together the back flaps of his hospital gown.

Elizabeth, who had been watching the proceedings with a mixture of curiosity and blank shock, pursed her lips and turned to Dr. Beckett. "Translation?"

Carson smirked. "Those aren't implants, Dr. Weir." At her raised eyebrow he quickly schooled his expression into one of grave deliberation and continued, "In addition to the modified body shape, the restored hairline, the thinning or loss of most body hair and the obvious changes in external genetalia, Dr. McKay now possesses ovaries, functional mammary glands, the works. His DNA results read XX, not XY."

Elizabeth shook her head, brain refusing to process. "So what you're saying is...."

"Dr. McKay is a woman by every biological definition of the term."

"I wouldn't go changing my gender pronouns yet, Beckett," Rodney snapped. "This is a temporary alteration."

"It's a bit more than an alteration, Rodney."

"Ovaries," Elizabeth said, faintly.

"The entire female reproductive system, in point of fact," Carson said, oddly jovial in the face of Elizabeth's shock. "Really, this is the most advanced medical technology we've found in the city thus far."

"Well, that's ... something isn't it? Rodney, how are you feeling?"

"Like vital parts of me are missing," Rodney snapped, before switching his attention back to Carson. "As much as I'd love to continue this scintillating exchange, I have work to do. We've established that I am physically undamaged by the process, yes?"

"Well, yes, though I would like to run some more—"

"Well then I'll be returning to my lab to study the device further and figure out how to reverse the process."

Elizabeth turned to him with a look of worry. "Rodney, you saw what the device did to you this time and you're going to try to use it on yourself again?"

John, who had been oddly reticent for the duration of their stay in the infirmary, chose that moment to speak up. "I have to agree with Dr. Weir, here, Rodney. I saw what that thing did and I wouldn't be jumping back in front of it if I were you."

Rodney slid off the bed and quickly started yanking his clothing back into place. "Though its actions weren't exactly desired, it has caused no damage. From this, I conclude that the device is working properly. We can also assume that, like most Ancient devices, it has a failsafe. It must have a way to switch me back. Now I would like to have returned to my regular self by the time Ronon and Teyla get back from their mission tomorrow morning, if you don't mind."

Clothing back on, Rodney quickly did up his shoelaces. "Let's never do this again, shall we?"

He stalked his way over to the door. "Sheppard, you're coming with me."

Rodney's pissy subvocal grumblings carried him all the way down the hallway and back to his lab, at which point he took a standing position in front of the device and began mentally projecting as loudly as possible, 'Activate! Activate! Give me back my body you Ancient chunk of pre-packaged sadism!' along with a large variety of expletives regarding Dr. Beckett and his so called medicine and possibly the size of his penis.

Nothing happened.

After five minutes of trying, Rodney grabbed the box and shoved it back in John's hands yelling, "What the hell is wrong with it now?!"

John paused to concentrate. "Uh, I think its batteries are low."

"It ... what?"

"There's not enough power. You're going to have to engineer an adaptor for this thing."

"I'm going to have to—" Rodney stumbled towards his desk, all anger draining out of him in a rush, replaced with a rising sense of despair. "But it has nowhere to plug in an adaptor. It's a paperweight!" Rodney spread his hands. "Figuring this out could take months," he said, voice breaking on the last word.

John strode over to where Rodney was seated and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Well just think, Rodney, it could have been me getting zapped by that thing."

Rodney stared at him incredulously. "And how is that supposed to make me feel better?"

John shrugged. "Well, it's making me feel a whole lot better about the situation."

Rodney then stood up and skewered John with a look so deadly John immediately raised his hands in apology. "Hey, hey, relax, alright? You'll figure this out and it won't take you months because you're a genius. I'm sure you'll find something of use in the database. And it's not like you look bad or, uhm, I mean...."

John trailed off, suddenly realizing how very close they were standing. Rodney was the exact same height. John's eyes flicked down to their hips, taking note of their proximity, then took a large step backwards—"I'm going to let you get back to work"—and escaped out of the room, leaving Rodney staring confusedly in his wake.

Rodney considered following after him for a moment, but dismissed the idea, instead turning to Zelenka with a look of intent. "Let's get started then, shall we?" he said crisply, pointedly ignoring the blatant stares he was getting from the rest of the science team.

Zelenka nodded. "Of course."

Rodney decided he'd had enough of scanners for the rest of his life and left the Ancient artifact to Zelenka so he could hunt through database archive after database archive for information on medical technologies. It wasn't so much that he couldn't find anything as that he couldn't find less than four-hundred things on any particular subject.

Rodney wondered why the hell the Ancients had never thought to invent the Dewey Decimal system. Certainly it might have been slightly less of a priority than figuring out personal teleportation devices, but if the best organization method they could come up was barely on par with the Encyclopaedia Britannica Online it was frankly a wonder they'd lasted against the Wraith as long as they had.

"This is ridiculous," he snapped after too many hours of fruitless digging. "It's like trying to hunt through someone's Internet Explorer bookmarks. I keep expecting every link I click on to spam me with porn pop-ups."

"You could just write a search algorithm," Zelenka pointed out.

"You know the size of this database. If I wanted to crash my laptop I know plenty of easier ways."

"Have you tried working with the database directly?"

"My Ancient isn't all that fluent, and I'd rather not apply any translation alghorithms to the database itself."

"Perhaps you should devote yourself to becoming more fluent. I myself find the learning of a new language quite a rewarding experience. Regardless, such endeavors will have to wait. If we do not stop working on this now we will not have time to run simulations for the new energy conservation plan."

At Rodney's cold, cold glare, Zelenka quickly backtracked on his sentence. "And of course I meant that I would not have time to run simulations while you take the rest of the day off."

"But I—"

"Go home, Rodney. We'll work on this again in the morning."

"But I have tomorrow morning off"

"No, you have tonight off. Now go."

Rodney pouted angrily, which Zelenka was surprised to note worked much better on his newer face, then snapped out, "Fine," and turned to address the six other people in the lab.

"I'm taking the rest of the evening off. Go about your business. Try not to touch my whiteboards or irreparably damage any of the equipment."

Kavanagh snorted loudly from the back of the lab. "Going off to your room to play with yourself?"

Rodney glared at him in horrified rage.

Kavanagh flipped his ponytail over his shoulder and smirked knowingly from his position well beyond the minimum safe distance of Rodney's arm reach. Rodney hissed and sputtered and stalked out of the room wishing very, very hard that he knew how to bluff. Mocking laughter followed him out the door.

Zelenka raised an eyebrow at Rodney's retreating figure before turning to Kavanagh. "You know he will make you live to regret this."

Kavanagh smiled with teeth. "But it was so worth it."

Off in a partially hidden corner of the lab, Miko brought her hands to her mouth and dissolved into semi-hysterical giggles.

He ate dinner first.

Well, he ate a power bar, holding the last half between his teeth while pulling his shirt over his head in front of the bathroom mirror and twisting around to see what his nipples looked like from various angles. Fifteen minutes of trying to climb up on the bathroom sink to see what his ass looked like and Rodney found himself desperately wanting a wall mirror. It was his body, sort of, and not knowing what it looked like was more than a little disturbing.

He was the same height as before, his shoulders a bit narrower, muscles more compact like Teyla's. He didn't feel weaker, though he supposed the difference would be more noticeable if he tried lugging around any heavy machinery. The face was. Different. The hair sort of went with it. The breasts were kind of awesome, actually. Probably perkier than they should have been for their size and his age, but he supposed that was because they were new. He was, he believed the term was buxom?

Huh.

He found himself unexpectedly and extremely grateful that he did not look at all like Jeannie. She always took after their father so the difference in facial structure and build wasn't exactly unexpected, but all the same he was glad not to have to compare this experience to that one time he'd been walking home from school and found his neighbor peering through a hole in the fence and crouched down next to him only to be ambushed by the sight of his sister's naked torso.

He gave up on the bathroom mirror after a while, making his way back into the bedroom and shedding the rest of his clothing along the way. He sat crosslegged on his bed and stared down at himself bemusedly. He'd never seen a woman from this angle before. He brushed his hands over his nipples, feeling the light scrape of gun calluses and the pads of his fingers, still smooth from typing. His hands were cold and the feeling was so unexpected it almost hurt, only not.

Not really.

He slid his hand down his belly and the cold feeling was muted to cool over the less sensitive skin of his belly. Everything felt. More. In this body. He wasn't quite sure he could call the difference sexual, or even pleasurable. He lay back on his bed, spreading out his legs in front of him until his feet were hanging off the edge of his mattress.

His hands felt smaller as he pushed fingers through his pubic hair, touching lightly on his clit. Cold again, but getting warmer. The skin was soft and overly sensitive. The sensation against his fingers was completely different from the last time he made it to third base with a woman and got his hands in side her panties, though he couldn't exactly place it.

Oh.

Women self-lubricated. He'd ... forgotten. He wondered what it would take to get himself wet. Nothing was the same, and he found himself struggling to differentiate good from weird. The lack of familiarity was unsettling, to say the least. Perhaps the difference didn't matter, after all the human mind was capable of percieving almost any sensation as pleasurable given the proper mindset.

He tried one of his older fantasies of a faceless blond swallowing his cock, only to remind himself that he didn't have the requisite organs for that fantasy anymore and it probably wouldn't. Huh. Okay, maybe it would. He pulled back his hand for a moment, rubbing thumb and forefinger together, feeling the slick that had crept up unexpectedly. The smell wasn't the same. Everything about this body was so indirect, like playing a piano piece but hearing the music as a voice in your head instead of coming directly out of the instrument.

He slid his fingers over his clit, letting his mind wander from image to image of tall and voluptuous fantasy women. He lifted up on one elbow to watch his delicate looking fingers and it was almost like watching lesbian porn. The stroking felt intimate in a way he'd stopped feeling in regards to his cock long ago. Suddenly he flashed on John, bent over him, smile quirking the corner of his mouth and Rodney stopped.

It was. He'd imagined this before. John with him. John's ridiculously perfect body and what was most likely an even more ridiculously perfect cock. He'd imaged fucking John, John fucking him, but not like this. Not with this body, like John was fucking someone else entirely and he was feeling it. Feeling all of it. He pushed in with a finger.

No, it wouldn't be like that. He tried with two fingers but the angle was wrong and it was just uncomfortable and fuck. Fuck, he'd been getting close. Fuck, he wanted his cock back. Erections didn't just fall away like this. He tried again for a few frustrating minutes before signing in defeat. Clearly whatever internal erogenous zones this body might possess couldn't be reached with just his fingers.

Damn it, he just wanted to come already.

He slid his fingers back up over his clit and stroked, fast and hard, knees drawing up and out unconsciously, thighs tensing to the point of pain, pausing again when his fingers cramped under the repetitive motion, moaning as orgasm once again slipped out of his reach and God, when has masturbation ever been this excruciatingly tedious? He was going to come. He was going to come if he had to sprain something doing it. This body belonged to him, he wasn't. He could.

Shit.

He stared up at the ceiling, neck sticky with sweat, fingers tapping impatiently over his crotch, legs stiff and weak from the clenching and unclenching of his thighs. He inhaled sharply and then breathed out slowly, forcibly relaxing every muscle in his body. He closed his eyes and opened them again. And breathed.

And breathed.

He muttered softly to himself and slid two fingers back over his clit thinking, 'John, John, John ...' and imagining long thighs tensed between his legs and a hard cock pushing in and warm hands sliding over his breasts, like some he was kind of pornography, like he was somebody else, and the familiar, not familiar smell of pre-ejaculate and male come and yes. Yeah. Just.

Yes. Oh.

He hadn't expected it to ... he hadn't known what to expect really. He could feel his heart beating fast and scared in his chest. He dropped his head to the side, searching for the blink of is alarm clock where it sat on his bedside table. An hour and a half. He'd been doing this for an hour and a half. No wonder his hand had been cramping. He thought idly of asking around to see if anyone had Chinese hand balls. Those ones that were supposed to help against arthritis.

Next time would be easier, he figured. Not bad for a first try. Not bad for a temporary body. It was a lot less messy than jerking off. He walked to the bathroom when his breathing slowed back to normal, legs wobbling oddly for a moment with slight muscle soreness and the still unfamiliar new center of balance thing. He rinsed his fingers under the tap and debated showering for a moment before deciding he didn't smell enough to bother and stumbling back to bed.

He had to get up in four hours, anyway.

Rodney woke up the next morning with an epiphany. An hour early, no less. The epiphany carried him out of his bedroom and halfway down the hallway at a flat sprint before he was forced to stop. The Baywatch thing his breasts were doing turned out to be a lot less sexy when it was hurting like hell. He completed his journey to the labs at a brisk walk, bursting through the door and immediately making his way over to where Simpson was studying the scanner printouts from the day before.

He quickly brought up one of the seven different types of image readouts one of the Ancient displays, pointed at the screen and said, "Zoom in on this for me, would you?"

"How far do you want me to zoom in?"

He looked at her as if she were painfully retarded and he was taking her retardation as a personal insult. "Until you. See. Something."

He spun around in a circle to see who else was in the room at this hour of the morning, finding Zelenka and two newer scientists whose names he had yet to learn but secretly referred to in his head as Lab Props No. 2 and 3. "You, work with her on the other scans. You, see what you can do about getting a three dimensional holographic image of their results up and running."

"We don't have anything like that in here."

"Do I have to do everything for you people? There's one in that room. That one room with the Ancient chick talking about how the wraith wiped out the galaxy. Just ... oh right, you weren't there for that. Hold on."

He spun around again, this time to face Zelenka. "I'm going to go to the place with the thing and see if I can make it recieve information from this lab. The scans we did should store three dimensional information even if we can only make them display in two dimensions with the equipment we have in this room."

"But the city conservation plans—"

"Oh hey, yeah, did the simulations yesterday go okay? Nevermind, tell me when I get back."

He made it halfway down another hallway before remembering the whole breast thing again, and ended up standing by a transporter clutching his chest as Major Lorne stepped out with a bemused look on his face."

"Excuse me, I don't think we've met."

"What, no one told you?"

"I just got back from my mission this morning."

"I'm Dr. McKay. There was an accident with the ancient technology yesterday. I'm currently working on rectifying the situation."

"Oh." Lorne gave Rodney a vaguely patronizing look. "You know, you probably shouldn't be running around like that without a bra."

Rodney's eyes narrowed into slits. "Oh, I'm sorry, should I cover my ankles as well? Are you in danger of flying into a lustful frenzy at the sight of me?"

"Hey man ... lady ... Dr. McKay, there's no need to get upset about this. I was just—"

"I can kill you with my brain."

"Okay then." Lorne raised his hands and began backing away down the hall. "I'm just going to be heading to the mess for some breakfast."

Rodney glared after him, then snorted loudly and stepped into the transporter. He made it back out of the transporter and halfway down yet another hallway before halting abruptly with a loud, "Oh my God, I forgot to eat breakfast." He debated for a moment whether he ought to go to the mess hall or back to his room for an MRE and eventually decided that he didn't have time for a sit down breakfast, as fun as it might have been to run Major Lorne away from his breakfast with the strength of his glaring.

It was fifteen minutes of brisk walking before he made it back to the holographic display station. Another twenty minutes of poking at wall panels and he managed to figure out how the room linked up to the rest of the city. He brought his hand to his ear, about to tell Zelenka to get the scanner images transmitted when he remembered that Zelenka didn't have a comm link-up and really, why the hell didn't he because Rodney could swear about a month ago Elizabeth had been handing the things out like candy.

He walked briskly back to his lab. "Zelenka, come with me."

"But the city conservation—"

"Radek, I don't care if there's a crude oil spill in our drinking water, just tell Simpson to transmit the scanner information and meet me in the imaging room."

Twenty minutes and a lot of brisk walking later Rodney and Radek found themselves staring in barely disguised awe at the simulated model of a small cross-section the ancient device, blown up to room-wide proportions. Radek was the first to speak. "It looks like some sort of three dimensional motherboard. Nanocircuitry built out of what looks to be a combination of crystal structure and some unknown metal alloy."

"More like picocircuitry. This device's design is articulated on a scale we've never seen. Beckett wasn't lying about this being the most advanced piece of medical technology discovered in the city thus far."

"Perhaps if we look at what it is made of and crossreference that with what it did to you we will be able to find the device more easily in the Ancient database. Now for the love of God, Rodney, I will be delighted to research this fantastic new technology with you later but can we finish our actual jobs?"

"Right, of course. This can wait."

As it turned out, the simulations for the new energy conservation plans had gone off without a hitch and they could begin implementing them over the course of the next three days. Rodney gave Zelenka a few backhanded compliments and smiled at Miko and only threatened Kavanagh with cold-blooded murder twice before looking at the clock and realizing it was lunch time and and dashing to the mess as fast as he possibly could without running like a girl.

The gym would have been a smarter choice, John thought as he made his way towards the gateroom. He'd woken up that morning groggy and heavy-limbed, sheets tangled around his legs, entire bed smelling like crotch. He'd stumbled out of bed and into the shower and dragged his hands down his face and gone through the motions of a morning ritual, only to trudge into Elizabeth's office twelve minutes late and try vainly to force himself past the edge of consciousness.

They'd been discussing future missions. At least, Elizabeth had been. John had been grunting noncommittally while his brain wandered back to the night before, when he'd wasted hours that could have been far more productively spent sleeping jerking off like some deranged, over-sexed frat boy over Rodney, of all people. The gym would have been a much, much smarter choice in pretty much every possible way. Anything would have been smarter than thinking about Rodney like that.

Repress and deny. That’s what they taught you in the military. Sex was something you did on leave with perfect strangers. Perfectly female strangers. Granted, Rodney was perfectly female at the moment.

John felt his cock twitch at the thought and forced his thoughts back down brutally as he stepped through the doorway of the gateroom's lower level. He plastered a bland smile on his face and waited patiently for Ronon and Teyla to step through the gate.

Fuck.

He’d spent his last leave with a perfectly female stranger, telling her ... well frankly, not really telling her anything. He'd told her next to nothing about her cousin Aiden, his dangerous behavior, his chemical dependency, or the multitude of things he'd done in the past year—just that he was missing, and it was John’s fault. John wondered when, exactly, he’d turned into such a masochist. If he wasn’t performing mercy killings or standing by while his subordinates went gland crazy, he was developing career ending fixations on the very male head of the science division.

Current physiology notwithstanding.

There were rules about things like this. Rules he'd made for himself. This wasn't allowed. Repress and deny. John had been doing it for years and he was good at it, but one look at Rodney looking like that and John's brain had twigged automatically to the sight of unfamiliar female anatomy and he'd forgotten for a second. Forgotten that he wasn't allowed to look.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by the sight of Teyla stepping through the iris, followed by a distractingly pretty blonde woman somewhere in her early thirties. A bit paler than John's usual taste. Not that fairness of skin had been an issue with John's libido lately. John cleared his throat.

Right.

Behind her was one of the botanists, with Ronon bringing up the rear. John raised his eyebrows at Teyla before smiling politely and introducing himself. The woman turned out to be Baelta Anek, leader of mining operations on Corilea, possible trading partner and she had insisted on conducting her trade negotiations with Dr. Weir in person.

John charmingly offered an arm and led the woman to the briefing room, Teyla and Ronon following behind, smiling at each other behind him, thick as thieves. He waved her in through the door and shut it behind her before turning back to his two team members. "I thought this expedition was for investigating plant life and possible food to add to our stores."

It was Teyla who responded. "The planet was not abandoned as we supposed. It would seem due to the coldness of their planet the wraith deemed it uninhabitable. Its people have managed to live there in peace and in secret and have made a number of technological advancements."

"Cool. So, lunch?"

Ronon smirked. "Are you sure you don't want to wait for Anek to finish with her meeting?"

"I'm sure I'll catch her before she leaves," John replied smoothly, offering Ronon a narrow-eyed smile. He walked with Ronon and Teyla down to the lunch hall and thought of pretty blond aliens and various double entendres for the term negotiations and how very simple life was when he went with the flow and did not think about Rodney or the night before in his bedroom or the day before that in Rodney's lab. He let himself trail behind the two of them a bit as they stepped through the door of the cafeteria, let a small smile play across his lips, and thought of how very much he loved his job and most especially loved not getting fired from it.

And then he stepped through the door himself and saw Rodney, flushed with scientific glee, sitting three tables away and shoveling food into his wide, wet mouth and all John could think was, 'Holy God, I want that.'

Goto: part 1|part 2

Current Mood: accomplished
Current Music: "Coconut" by Harry Nilsson