Disclaimer: Nope, they ain't mine! In fact they aren't on anymore. So who's are they anyway?! The intrepid duo plus those annoying sub-committees belong to CC and Co. Mike and the bots, plus Pearl and anyone else I forgot to mention belong to Best Brains Inc. last I checked. Rating: PG-13, Little bit of language on account of the original story. MiSTer's Notes: Hey this is my second shot. Or I suppose if I were to get technical it's actually my fourth or so, but the others are still sitting on my hard drive and are little more than practice runs on my own work (ouch!) so...here's my second one! FEEDBACK! To: issaquah@excite.com ***************************************************************************** MiSTing of: The Story Without a Name (suggestions appreciated) By: TheX MiSTing By: Happy Mike is standing there with a bowl of cereal. Crow and Tom come in. MIKE: [acting like an actor playing his part. But doing a *really* bad job.] Hi! My name is Mike...[squints to see cue card] Nelson. Welcome to the *Satellite of Love*. Please meet the Bots *Tom* and *Crow*. TOM: [same]..Hi...my name is...*Tom*. CROW: [same] My name...is...*Crow*. TOM: So...*Mike*, what are you doing? MIKE: Well, *Tom*. *Pearl* said she was going to send us a spoon. And seeing as we have never had any...*spoons*...I thought I might have breakfast. CROW: *Mike* are you sure...*Pearl*..said she was going to send a *spoon*?! MIKE: I don't know...*Crow*. [gaggingly cheerful] Let's find out! They all give giant fake grins as Mike hits the button. PEARL: Hello Nelspoof! Are you ready for your fanfic? MIKE: [in his normal voice and disappointed.] I thought we were getting a spoon. PEARL: No, what I *said* was that you were going to get a spoof. In this case, a spoof on the X-Files. MIKE: This is going to hurt more than the spoon, isn't it? PEARL: [evily] You have no idea... MIKE: [nonchalantly] Okay, then. TOM: I think in this case ignorance is bliss. CROW: Yeah, for about five seconds. [five seconds later...] ALL: WE'VE GOT SPOOF SIGNNNNN!!!!! [Pick a door sequence.] ****************************************************************************** >Subject: I Wrote A Spoof *JUST* For You MIKE: Oh, you shouldn't have...really. >From: "TheX" TOM: Malcom X? CROW: Mr. X? >Date: 28 Sep 97 20:48:57 GMT CROW: Is "Greenwich Mean Time" anything like "Happy Hour"? >Here you go, all you spoof-happy 'netters. . . > >This is a *SPOOF*, don't freak *OUT*, it's all *OKAY*. MIKE: [officially] This is only a spoof! Had this been an actual X-File it would not have made any sense nor had any closure. This is only a spoof. >Mulder, Scully, and just about everyone, including the rat >bastard Krycek (though God only knows why they'd want him) >belong to Chris Carter, and all >his little friends. TOM: Hey, they aren't little! They're vertically challenged! > Read my story, Chris, and tell me, with a *STRAIGHT >FACE* that you still want them. Heh heh heh heh heh (for all >you MiSTies ALL: Aw, thank you! >Rated: PG-13 (I dunno, it could be considered an "R") CROW: [as author] Or NC-17...whichever, it doesn't matter. TOM: Um, ...XXX. MIKE: It's *already* an X-File. > for language and the >teeniest bit of innuendo. CROW: YAY! > In fact, the innuendo is so teeny, it's hardly >worth mentioning, but I don't want those who are offended by >dust bunnies MIKE: Nuke the bunnies! TOM: I prefer napalm myself. >to come screaming at me. So don't be surprised if you skim the >whole thing >looking for sexual innuendo and don't find it. CROW: Awww.... >The Story Without A Name (suggestions appreciated) MIKE: [shrugs] The Neverending Story? CROW: Oh, I *hope* not! TOM: Ahem! It's...The Neverending Story (tm) MIKE: Thanks. Forgot about that thing. >TheX TOM: Remember, if "TheX" is the square root of a negetive number it can't be real! MIKE: We can only hope. >**************************************************************************** >** >Dead Midnight, MIKE: It's dead Jim. >Thursday the Twelfth, 2000 TOM: ...As Bill Gates struggles to come back after Y2K. >A very "film noir" atmosphere in a dark, abandoned warehouse > >"Goddammit, you bastard! Why the hell won't you tell me? All >you do is >keep secrets!" screamed Mulder. ALL: [jump] FOOTBALL PRACTICE! MIKE: [gasping] Okay heart...you can resume beating now... CROW: [painfully] My virgin ears... TOM: You've *got* to be kidding! >The shadow in the corner moved, and the music surged TOM: SUUURRGGEEEEE!!!!! > as a tiny bright flame >settled on the tip of a cigarette. Really, the whole thing was >quite >moody. CROW: Must be that time of the month. >The figure in the corner took a deep drag, MIKE: [Clinton] But, I didn't inhale! > preparing his response >carefully. After several minutes of deliberation and a station >break, TOM: Wow! I don't even remember it! CROW: You know...it's kinda nice not having station breaks. MIKE: See? One of the positive things about fanfic. TOM: [mutters] The *only* positive thing about fanfic. > he >shrugged his shoulders and said, > >"Ehh." CROW: So he's Canadian...yeah. >Mulder turned purple with rage. MIKE: If anything Mulder, we enjoy watching you turn purple. >"You evil bastard! Where is she? What have you done to her?" TOM: [evil guy] I stuck her in a padded room and forced her to listen to "It's a Small World" on endless loop! MWUHAHAHAA! PEARL: [off-stage] Now there's an idea... MIKE & CROW: [turn and look at TOM] TOM: Oops. >His voice, >already able to drown out a steam engine, spiraled dangerously >out of >control. CROW: [rebel pilot] I'm hitttttt.....! >There was a loud, drawn-out creak MIKE: [wincing] Somebody get the WD-40! > as the door to the dark, gloomy abandoned >warehouse TOM: Just in case you forgot, we are in a "dark, gloomy and abandoned warehouse"! > opened dramatically. CROW: [Jeff Foxworthy] ...And there stood the creature from the Black Lagoon! >The lone figure of agent Dana Scully >stood >silhouetted against the bright light of the flourescents ALL: [CHEER] CROW: Special Agent Dana Scully, F...B...I...! >illuminating the >parking lot. She brandished a paper bag. MIKE: Swinging it down with a vengeance and knocking Mulder unconscious! CROW: You aren't a shipper, are you Mike? >"I got some sandwiches. It looked like you two were gonna be >awhile, and I >already did a complete autopsy on the body from the teaser. TOM: What body from the teaser? CROW: Must be an X-File. TOM: Geeze! > I tried your >cell phone, but then I remembered you lost it ten minutes after >the opening >credits." MIKE: [confused] But this *is* ten minutes after the opening credits! >Sensing that something was amiss, she whipped out her fully >loaded Sig >Sauer. ALL: [--while Mike puts up his hands--] AH! DON'T SHOOT! TOM: [sarcastic] Well, I suppose it wouldn't do much good to have it *unloaded*... > Pointing it at an indiscriminate patch of dark, she shouted, >"Freeze! Federal agent!" MIKE: [bad guy] No way! You haven't tagged me yet! >Mulder, who had been relatively silent, spoke up. TOM: Silent?! >"God, Scully! How many mutant freaks"-his voice began to get >loud at this point- CROW: So "drowning out a steam engine" isn't considered loud? Well, thanks for clearing *that* up! >"do you expect to actually *stop* when they find out there's a >federal agent with a gun behind them?" TOM: Well...there was that doctor with the killer shadow. MIKE: I guess you could count him. >"I'm wearing three-inch heels." CROW: Yeah Mulder! Why don't YOU try running these people down in heels sometime! MIKE: I thought he did... >"How the hell are they supposed to know that?" he screamed. TOM: They are called "eyeballs", perhaps you've heard of them? >"Only >ninety-nine point nine percent of them actually pay attention to >what >you're wearing! CROW: [looks over] I wasn't paying attention, did Mulder just say something? > There's that tenth of a percent that don't get a rise when >you hold your gun on them!" MIKE: Generally those are the girls. >"That's just because they're evil clones who have no genitalia." >she said, MIKE: Umm...them too I guess. >her voice betraying absolutely no emotion. It does this often. TOM: Scully has reached Kholinar CROW: Around Mulder? That's illogical. >The figure in the corner, having been out of the scene for >several dark, >tense minutes, TOM: Man! That's not even *half* right! > mysteriously vanished. MIKE: [waving at Mulder and Scully] Um, guys? Yeah, you might actually want to get back to business here! Guys? [sigh] Nevermind... >Around Noonish >Tuesday the twenty-second > >The back of some guy's Honda > >"Scully! Scully! CROW: [his beak drops in astonishment] W-w-what...t-the..?" [he faints] > For the love of God and money, where are you?" Mulder >shrieked. MIKE: Question: If Mulder shrieks, and Scully isn't around to hear it. Is it still a girly scream? > Scully slid out from beneath the car, her garage jumpsuit >covered with grease. >"Yeah? What is it?" she hocked a loogie from the side of the >dolly. ALL: Ew... TOM: Just what type of doll does Scully have?! MIKE: A voodoo doll. For all those times Mulder ditches her. Hey Crow! Wake up buddy! CROW: [groggily] Er..huh? TOM: That *would* explain why he's always getting hurt. >"There's a strange alien being in this trunk! My quest is over!" TOM: I guess the profits went down. CROW: Wow! The noromo's were right! MIKE: Crow, she was under the car, not in it. >Scully pushed herself up from the dolly, and peered in the trunk. >"Mulder, >it's just some illegal immigrants desperately clutching bags of >cocaine. MIKE: That would make them "aliens". I don't know about the "strange" part though. TOM: They're "illegal aliens". >Not our department. CROW: [Scully] Time to call Agent J and Agent K. > Call the know-it-all local police so they can be >killed TOM: Gee, that hardly seems fair. CROW: Whoever said life was fair? TOM: Good point. > when the real X-File freak shows up again, not yet satisfied >from >its brutal slaying in the teaser." TOM: The slaying we *didn't* see. MIKE: Maybe it was too much for TV CROW: More likely too much for their budget. >"But Scully! They--they--" > >"Shut up, Mulder. TOM: [Scully] It's my line dangit!!! I've almost got this damned muffler fixed, and >I want to >get paid full salary. MIKE: Scully's EOA. > How else could I afford my tailored suits, nice >apartment, and posh little dog named Clyde, who just happens >to look like >my other posh little dog named Queequeg, TOM: Queequeg? Did she tattoo the poor thing or what?! > who became croc food a couple of >episodes back?" CROW: It was an alligator! TOM: It was a Croc! CROW: Alligator! TOM: Croc! >"Oh." > >"Yeah, that's what I though." She slid back under the vehicle. MIKE: [Scully] Now shut up and let me work on my part as the hit-and-run murder victim! >"Scully! Scully!" Mulder positively squealed. TOM: That's just disturbing. > "Look! A vague, shadowy >figure that can't be seen by the at-home viewers!" ALL: [start pointing at the screen and yelling "He's over there!"] >"For God's sake, SHUT UP!" MIKE: [Scully] I can't play dead with all your shouting! >There came a high-pitched shriek as Mulder, always wanting the >spotlight, >was nearly killed by a radial tire. CROW: GIRLY SCREAM ALERT!!! ALL: [reminiscent of the Enterprise alarm] BREE! BREE! BREE! TOM: Gee, that's two in only a page! >With a loud clank, Scully dropped her wrench. MIKE: Not the wrench, the wench! Or was it the other way around? >"Mulder! What did I *just* get through telling you?" TOM: [Mulder, whining] But I *really* gotta go! >"But--but--" >"No. MIKE: [Mulder, pouting] Aw, you never let me have any fun! Mulder, we can't subject the viewers to this every episode. CROW: [Scully] The UST, it's just too much! The shippers are ready to riot! MIKE: That joke would be funnier, if it wasn't true... >Do you >think I'm blind? TOM: Well, that's how *some* people are when they forget their contacts! > I mean, every single time something of paranormal >importance comes up, I run into an eyelash curler laced with >krazy glue. MIKE: [confused] She does? >Coincidence? I think not." > >"It's all the fault of the tobacco industry. TOM: Sue them! > They make this one guy look >real sinister, leading people to believe that he's responsible for >every >freak occurence on the show, when really it's all the work of the >nail care >industry. MIKE: Well, *I'm* surprised! CROW: Yeah, I was gonna blame the guys who came up with "Barney". TOM: Or "Poke'mon". > Those poor migrant workers in the trunk, did you happen to >notice what was buried in the coke? MIKE: Carbonation? High Fructose Corn Syrup? > I distinctly saw a bunch of little >sample bottles of nail enamel and cuticle treatment." TOM: Well, thanks for telling us...AFTER THE FACT! >"Not to mention that they were all wearing hideous pink suits. CROW: [Scully, disgustedly] The pink! It just screams "1966"! >And that >this is an enormous pink car with the liscence reading >`MARYKLA-D'" TOM: MaryK lad? CROW: MaryK land?? MIKE: MaryK LAPD??? >"I've got it! The deathly scourge of Facials-Gone-Bad threatens >to destroy >the Mary Kay company, effectively wiping out a major >annoyance factor in >cultural America, which means that these poor "immigrants" are >really--" MIKE: Okay, you've lost me. Something about the Spice Girls? TOM: That would fit the: gone-bad, and annoying parts. >He pauses, as the music rises to a fever pitch, > sounding faintly >reminiscent of "Scooby-Doo", TOM: ...Where are you? MIKE: That is so old. TOM: You know you were thinking it. > and pulls on the mustache of one of the people >stuffed in the noxiously-scented trunk. TOM: So *now* the trunk's beginning to smell funny? CROW: Too many bean burritos. >"Oy senor! Why you hurt my face?" > >Mulder tugged harder. MIKE: No, Mulder! You're supposed to STOP tugging! ">I soon get violent, you el loco perro!" TOM: [immigrant] Watch it! Or I'll pull out YOUR hair! CROW: [Mulder] Not my hair!!!! >He was stilled by Scully's hand. CROW: She has THE TOUCH OF...um..STILL! TOM: No, no, that just doesn't have the same ring. >"Mulder, stop. This won't make up for the loss of your sister." MIKE: Yes Mulder, pulling the facial hair of random immigrants is not going to solve *any* of your family problems. >Having said this, the score settles into mournful tones, slow and >moody. CROW: Just like that! A moody script! Geeze, it should go get some prozac or something, that's twice now! >"Thank you for initiating another plot twist, Scully. I could have >gotten >in trouble with the know-it-all authorities." MIKE: [Mulder] Yeah, them know-it-all authorities. How *dare* they read the script and know what's going on! >"They're already dead, Mulder. I had the bodies CROW: [Scully] ...burried in the local quarry under 10 tons of concrete. Relax already would you?! > sent to a local facility >for testing three days ago, which means the results came back >only twelve >minutes later. TOM: Woah! Now that's a continuity problem worse than Star Trek's! > Here they are." MIKE: And there they go! > >Mulder's face grew incredulous at what he was reading. "My >God, Scully. >Do you know what this means?" CROW: [Scully] Sure. It means that we are closer to the truth than we've ever been, but that the evidence will disappear under mysterious circumstances, leaving us right back at the begining. >"Of course I know what this means, Mulder. I dated the >scriptwriter for >this episode." MIKE: [rimshot] >"Yeah--hey! I thought it was the director!" TOM: And I heard it was the Production Assistant! >She shrugged. "Gotta shop around." ALL: [singing] Mama always told me...you better shop around! >"These unbelievably speedy reports have certain places that >allude to the >possibility that they may indicate MIKE: [Mulder] ...that perhaps, just maybe, perchance, even though it's not really probable... CROW: Well, that's never stopped him before. > that these men died of something other >than natural causes!" >Scully looks at him, and raises her eyebrow. "Duh." TOM: Oh, I wish she'd tell him that in real life! MIKE: Real life? >Mulder, in his excitement, fails to notice the bright green light MIKE: Well, he *is* color-blind. >eminating >from a hole in the corrugated-steel roof of the garage. > He is so engrossed >in the reports, CROW: Trying to sound out the words. > he doesn't notice when Scully is suddenly sucked through >the hole and the light vanishes. TOM: [Scully] MULDER HELP! MIKE: [Mulder; annoyed] In a minute Scully! > Blinking and shaking his head at the >sudden upswing in the tempo of the score, he suddenly realizes, CROW: That he forgot to take the lint out of the dryer. >"Hey! TOM: Is for horses. > Scully was kidnapped by aliens who plan to do horrible, >inhuman >experiments except they have to be human because it's all >really a giant >conspiracy set up by the government for no logical purpose at >all! MIKE: Which is why only the people who are "paranoid beyond all reason" uncover them. > I have >to take some leave without Skinner even having the faintest idea >where I >went but everybody else will know that I'm in Puerto Rico TOM: [disappointed] Oh, I thought it was Arizona. MIKE: Tom, there is no Arizona. > waiting for the >little green men but that's a gross error on the part of everybody >on earth >because they're really gray!" CROW: Breathe, Mulder! Breathe! TOM: Well, if he's color blind then how would he know whether they were green or not?! >All this was said in a very slow quiet emotional voice, >as >all of his ramblings are. A tear slips down his cheek. MIKE: [annoyed] So the laws of grammar no longer apply to him, and he can now say things slow, quiet and emotional, yet have exclamation points after his sentences? CROW: Relax Mike, Mulder never conforms to the rules, grammar or otherwise. >"SAMANTHA!" He bursts into tears for apparently no reason >whatsoever. TOM: Ehh... MIKE: Forget it. >10.13 AM, >November Twenty-First, 2453 CROW: Okay, that's in-jokes one and two for *this* ep. >An abandoned field CROW: Is anything *wanted* in the X-Files? >It's the morning, but it's strangely dark TOM: Therefore it must be EARLY morning. >Mulder appears in the distance, huddled on the ground, still >crying like a >baby. CROW: 453 years?! I think he's bit dehydrated now! TOM: Yeah, and that's only the beginning of his problems! MIKE: I can't believe you guys were paying enough attention to catch that! > His cellular phone rings from somewhere in the distance, and >he >presses a tiny button on his keychain. TOM: No Mulder. Cellphone, not keychain. > A low whine emits from deep within >the ground beneath a tree. CROW: As the garage door to David's place opens up, #Mulder steps in to visit his long time friend of the forest. > Always ready for the situation, Mulder picks up >a shovel. After a mere four commercial breaks, he finds it, MIKE: After a mere four commercial breaks he finds the shovel? But I thought he already picked it up? >and answers. MIKE: Well....darn it! Be more specific with your pronouns! >"H-h-hello?" he sniffles loudly. TOM: Kleenex! We need kleenex here! >"Mulder, stop being such a whiny baby." > >He perks up at the voice of his partner. CROW: He's getting *way* too much into that "puppy" thing he's got going. >"Scully!" > >"No shit, sherlock. ALL: Keep diggin' Watson! > I've been waiting in this damn hospital for a couple >of months for you to get a tip from some shadowy informant or >for some >blonde bimbo CROW: Know how to confuse a blond? MIKE: Save it. > scientist, quote unquote, to steal away your attention, but I >suppose you've just been sitting there in that field, TOM: ...where you died. >letting your fish die TOM: ...The Field Where My Fish Died....Again. >and your sunflower seeds mold over--" CROW: Gross! >At this, Mulder gasps sharply. > >"Never!" ALL: We can dig it! >"Shut up, I'm not done. You've probably just been sitting in >various "old >ghost" locations, crying your eyes out, CROW: Warning! We have independent body parts! MIKE: [a'la the Twin Peaks Crossover] Not again! > while I've been lying comatose, >dangerously near to dying, MIKE: For the ten-zillionth time. > with my dead sister hovering somewhere in the >upper stratosphere or something, right?" TOM: Breathe, Scully! Breathe! >Mulder, at this point, has gotten hysterical ALL: We pledge alliegence to the Agents, and their many states of hysteria... as to the plight of his >sunflower seeds, has lapsed into a hyperactive silence, only >giving off an >occasional anxious whimper. MIKE: *Now* we know why his parents named him "Fox" CROW: He does act a lot like a member of the canine family. >"Right?" MIKE: Left? CROW: Right! MIKE: Okay...#CROW: WAIT! NO! ALL: AHH! [car crashing sounds] > >Mulder whimpered something that sounded like "mmm-hmm" >before disconnecting >and rushing to a car that mysteriously appeared in the field. TOM: Editing mistake in his favor. >Ten minutes later, he was in his apartment, CROW: Wow! His apartment in the middle of the city is awfully close to that abandoned field! > setting his seeds in a pot of >boiling water, and watching them like an anxious mother. CROW: Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble. >"There there, it's okay. Maybe later we could watch some bad >porn! Would >that make you feel better?" ALL: [gagging] NO! >The sunflower seeds, unaccustomed to the intense heat, burst >from their >shells. Mulder screams in horror, and runs off to Russia. TOM: Okayyy..I give up. Why? >Four days from last Saturday, at around three-thirty MIKE: So that would be three days from last Sunday! >Somewhere over the rainbow ALL: [start to sing] SommmmeWHERE..over the rainbow! CROW: Why do I get this sudden urge to break out the rain gear? >Mulder sniffled and pulled his jacket tighter. He gave a cry of >surprise >as he discovered that Siberia was full of snow, MIKE: [Mulder] Well, who woulda' thunk it? > and his nose turned red >from the cold. CROW: And all the female viewers started drooling. >"Oh dear me. It *is* chilly! Oh well. I suppose I've got to start >searching for that rat bastard Krycek. No time like the present. MIKE: Does the time "present" have anything to do with your birthday or Christmas? >Carpe >Diem. TOM: Seize the day! CROW: I'd prefer seizing the TV remote. > You've always got to start somewhere. MIKE: Generally at the beginning. >Mulder proceeds to give a long, pretentious speech as a voice->over while >the visual is *supposedly* him, > trekking ALL: [singing] Star trekkin' across the universe! Only going forward cuz we can't find reverse! >across the wild, untamed Siberian >wasteland. His speech is *so* long and *so* pretentious, it is >cut off by >the commercial break. ALL: THANK YOU!! TOM: The only time I'll ever look forward to a non-existent commercial break. >When we return, Mulder has mysteriously relocated to a secret >black-ops >government outpost. CROW: Well, after the way he and Scully got back from Antartica I wouldn't worry about this one. > He realizes that the front door is locked, jimmies >with the handle for a few minutes, TOM: ...realizes the door is *still* locked, >shrugs, and crashes through the window. >Whimpering in pain from the bloodless cuts he sustains, MIKE: [Minnesotian] Ooh, yeah. I had one o' them bloodless cuts once. Darn thing hurt like the Dickens! > except for the huge >one right above his right eye, TOM: So I guess that means that they *all* weren't bloodless cuts then were they?! > which is directly over the huge scar from >where he always cuts himself when being thrown from cars, >crashing through >windows, or being kicked in the face by rat bastards, MIKE: Getting beat up by old ladies, getting out of bed... > he picks himself up >and trudges through the nuclear-fallout shelter-ish hallways. > CROW: Is anyone else wondering who would nuke a building in Russia that is out in the middle of nowhere? > >"Hey," he cried in surprise, "it's dark in here!" Whipping out his >$4,000 >dollar flashlight, TOM: [shaking his head] Just 'cause Carter couldn't get lightsabers... >he illuminates the entire facility. > >"Heh heh heh. They'll never see me now!" ALL: Doh! MIKE: [holding his hand up to block the glare] Of course they won't see you now! THEY'RE ALL BLIND!!!! >There is a shout from off-stage, and several thousand black-clad >officers >with *really* big guns attack Mulder, covering him like a swarm >of killer >bees with smallpox. CROW: Apparently Mulder isn't as observant as Carter would like us to believe. >When he awakens, hours later, he is in a squalid cell, infested >with >insects and the black plauge. > >"This is a really nice apartment. Wonder what the going rate is." TOM: More than his apartment I'll bet! >He is answered by a squirrely voice, MIKE: [bad Russian accent] If ze moose is here zan ze squirrel can't be far behind. > carried on a puff of fetid breath. We >can all tell that it's fetid by the way Mulder crinkles his face up, >sending the female viewers into paroxysms of lust. MIKE: I am *really* glad I'm not a female viewer! >"What did you tell them?" the voice asked. > >"Huh?" said Mulder, "Did you want this apartment? Great, isn't >it?" TOM: Despite the fact that this shadowy Russian prisioner can speak English, Mulder *still* can't understand him! >We hear an "oof" as Mulder is kicked in the ribs by the other >prisoner. CROW: [relaxing] Ahhh! Nothing like a bit of Mulder torture! >"You idiot, what did you tell them?" > >"Oh, that. ALL: OOOHHH, THATTTT...right. > Nothing, I don't think." >"Well, any fool could have told you that. TOM: You know, I think the author just riffed that one for us. > You need to get out of here >before it's too late. CROW: [prisioner] Because if you tried to get out of here when it was too late, it would be too late! > Here." > >The sickly prisoner pressed a set of keys into his hand. TOM: He just stays there for the soup! > "This will unlock >every door and start every car here. Since we're in the poor part >of >Siberia, that equals three doors and a rusty pickup." MIKE: I'll bet it's a Ford pickup. >Mulder nodded solemnly. "Thank you, mysterious shadow >man." CROW: [mysterious shadow man] Ah! Call me Clint. TOM: Clint? >Stardate: 2554q12987pxs MIKE: I had a math equation like that once. >A Large Debunking Facility TOM: Don't you mean A Large *Abandoned* Debunking Facility? >Dana Scully finished her dramatic, heart-rending debunking of >her partner's >work in exactly the same tone with which she had begun. MIKE: Scully's really got to work on her introductions and conclusions! >Technically, she >*had* just begun, but was interrupted when Fox Mulder came >barreling >through the door. TOM: He must've thought this one was locked too. > He took a running leap, and slid to her chair. CROW: You know, not only does he have the only name on the door, the only desk, but *now* he's taking her chair! >One of >the board stood up. > >"Safe!" he yelled. ALL: [Get up "booing" and yelling umpire jokes] >Mulder pumped his arm enthusiastically before sitting next to >Scully >demurely. >"Sorry I'm late," he said in a stage whisper. > >"It's okay," she stage-whispered back. > >"Where are we?" he stage whispered again. TOM: [Scully] A Large Debunking Facility. You know you really should start reading the captions. >"Just about to your sentencing," she replied. > >Suddenly, the head prosecutor leaned towards them, and said, >in a stage >whisper, >"Shut up." > >"Okay," they whispered in unison. MIKE: Doh! >Over in the corner, unnoticed by anyone except the *entire >world at large*, >sat a big cloud of smoke. TOM: Where's the fire? > The cloud heaved, and expelled a cigarette butt. CROW: Apparently clouds hack cigarette butts, not loogies. >"Aaah," the cloud said, "That's the cool menthol flavor." > >A pert little legal secretary leaned over to the cloud, and said, >"I'm >sorry, Mr. Cloud, this is a non-smoking facility." > >The cloud looked at her. TOM: With what? CROW: Cloudy eyes. TOM: [rimshot] >"Look," she bellowed. "Take it outside or let me douse you with >Binaca." >To emphasize her threat, she held a bucket reeking of mint in a >threatening >position over his head. ALL: [shrink down in their seats.] > The cloud stood up, displaying a pair of >black-clad legs, and walked outside. CROW: A cloud walking? That *is* an X-File! >The entire courtroom heaved a sigh of relief, except Mulder, who >looked >quizzically at Scully, and asked, > >"What's going on? Why is everyone sighing? Did somebody >fart? Did I >fart? Why didn't I notice? Scully? Scully?" >She silenced him with a bullet to the shoulder. ALL: YES! THANK YOU SCULLY! >"Shut up," she said. > >The committee was giving its closing remarks. > >"We find the defendant, Fox Mulder, guilty of CROW: Tacky fashion. TOM: Please turn your attention to Exhibit A: His tie. > deceit, treason, murder, >theft, and kicking a puppy." The gallery gasped at the last >charge, ALL: YOU FIEND! MIKE: Even Cancerman never sunk *that* low! > and >Mulder rocketed out of his chair. TOM: [Mulder] YEEOOWWWW! >"I protest!" he said. "The puppy was trying to make it with my >leg!" CROW: She must have heard your name was Fox. >The committee ignored him. "The sentence is the closing of the >X-Files >division, which is never to be opened again. MIKE: Until next week. > Until next week." MIKE: Hey! >Mulder threw himself on the table, sobbing uncontrollably. TOM: Apparently Mulder has only three emotional states, sobbing, screaming, and comatose. >"Scully! What >are we going to do? We've lost everything! The X-Files, the >little >basement office, MIKE: [lisping] It was thust so coozy down there! >the truth! TOM: You couldn't HANDLE the truth! We never found the rat bastard Krycek. CROW: Well, you never set any rat traps! > We >never found the secret government agency trying to kill us! TOM: You might check to see if it was *your* agency, just a hunch. > Now what? > What is there to find out now? MIKE: Oh, I don't know. Your where your SISTER went maybe? > We no longer have any reason to trespass on >government property! TOM: Oh well, trespassing is one of those things you can do, even *without* a reason. > Who will issue us death threats? CROW: The IRS? > Who will we annoy? MIKE: Tele-marketers? TOM: Now *that* would be a nice change of pace! >Oh Scully, why?" ALL: ...Ask why? >She looked at him, square in the face. "Mulder," she said, >"Sometimes the >truth is in you." ALL: [sigh sweetly] MIKE: Oh prose, it's so...philosophical TOM: So...enigmatic. CROW: So...Scully. ALL: [sigh again] >He stopped in mid-sob. "What the hell is that supposed to >mean?" he >asked. MIKE: For once, I'm with Mulder. >"I have no idea," she replied, "but the fanfic authors of the world >will >tell us." TOM: Whatever you do. DON'T LEAVE IT UP TO THE FANFIC#AUTHORS!!!! >"I guess you're right, Scully," he conceeded, "But someday, >somewhere, >*someone* will find the truth, CROW: Ahem! That's Truth. With a capital "T". > and they won't know what to do with it, and >then they'll call. . ." MIKE: Ghostbusters. >The entire cast and crew of The X-Files said, in unison, > >"Fox Mulder-Special Agent." > >Then someone piped up, TOM: [Tiny Tim] The Truth is Out There! >"And Scully, who solves it all anyway." CROW: Is that it? >**************************************************************************** >*** >[applause] CROW: Darn! >Thank you, thank you. [thunderous applause] CROW: [impatiently] Com'on.... >No, really, you're much too kind. [catcalls] CROW: Yes! Embarrass him off the stage! >Stop, you're embarrasing me! [cessation of applause, catcalls] CROW: [annoyed] Hurry up! >No, no, keep cheering. [applause] CROW: Grrr.... >****** >*TheX* >****** CROW: Finally! [they get up to leave] >"You have to go full-circle to find the spoof." MIKE: Or in some cases, the spoon. TOM: Mike buddy, that made absolutely no sense. MIKE: Spoofs rarely do Tom. TOM: That wasn't what I was talking about, but...sure Mike. They all stand around. MIKE: So what did you guys think? TOM: Honestly Mike? It was a very good episode for the X-Files. The author had the characters down to the letter. CROW: Not to mention a plot which followed the show faithfully. MIKE: Seriously? CROW: Very serious. I even think this author could be one of the writing staff. You know, writing anonymously and stuff. MIKE: Well, I'm sure the actual writers are too busy writing real episodes to write fanfic. TOM: But maybe this is a way for the writers to check and make sure their episode will be well-received by the audience. MIKE: No. TOM: Are you sure Mike? I mean, it seems like it would... MIKE: I'm sure Tom, the writers wouldn't do this. It was just a spoof. So what did you think Pearl? PEARL: I think next time I'll give you the spoon, that was too easy. Until next time Nelson! STINGER >After several minutes of deliberation and a station break, >he >shrugged his shoulders and said, > >"Ehh." In all honesty I really enjoyed this story long before I came up with the idea to MiST it. I can't remember exactly where I found it, but it was most likely in the Gossamer Archives. http://fluky.gossamer.org Thanks for reading! (issaquah@excite.com) My Sci-Fi Humor Page! http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Keep/5507 -Happy