Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Date: 1996/09/23 Summary: Mulder & Scully go to Brooklyn to investigate an alien abduction. Disclaimer: OK..Mulder & Scully belong to Chris Carter, got that? Everybody, and I mean everybody else belongs to me. Got dat? So baddabing, baddabang baddaboom. Don't use 'em without asking first. Got dat? Oh, and youse can do what youse like with this, just gimme the credit I deserve. Got dat? Description: A pure humor piece. Inspired by the book WITNESS which investigates an alledged alien abduction that took place in Brooklyn a few years ago. Since Brooklyn is my hometown, I thought it would be very amusing to have M & S meet up with one of my old pals. She's an incredible character in real life. Believe it or not she actually looks/speaks like this...and the little stories told here are also based on real events...even Mrs. Fugazy (wink, wink...) No MSR, no plot really, just for fun. Rated G.. (With apologies to any international readers for the in-jokes and Brooklyn dialect.) This is dedicated to Maria M...who taught me that Lento's did have the best pizza in New York *and* that Junior's cheesecake is, occasionally, an acceptable substitute for a man. *FUGAZING* (or The Incredible True Tale of Cookie Biondi) AN X-FILES FANFIC by CiCi Lean, 1996 Comments welcome. Send to cicilean@yahoo.com ********************** "Get lost! I told you before I don't know nuthin'!" Mulder sighed and knocked again at the apartment door. "Miss Biondi, we just want to ask you some questions. It will only take a few minutes." "Yeah, right. If I told youse once I told youse a million times, Vinnie don't live here no more." The door was flung open with a bang. A colorful blur appeared. "AND I DON'T KNOW NO ONE NAMED MANNY THE MEATBALL!" The door slammed shut. Mulder & Scully looked at each other with an expression that clearly said "huh?". Scully knocked. "Ms. Biondi, we're here to ask you some questions about the disappearance of your neighbor Geraldine Fugazy," yelled Scully through the door. There was a moment of silence. The door opened a crack. One heavily made-up eye peeped out. "Mrs. Fugazy?" "She disappeared last week?" said Scully with a bit of exasperation. "And you ain't lookin' for Vinnie?" "No." "Well. Okay, then." The door opened to reveal a young woman dressed in a palette of colors not to be found in nature, at least, not all in the same place. Her hair was red -- bordering on purple, really -- and a she had face that would have made any girl at a department store make-up counter proud. Fighting the urge to shield their eyes, Mulder and Scully pulled out their badges. "Jeez, the house is a mess. Don't mind Bootsie, he doesn't bite. He just sounds like he's growling. He likes you. Come in, are you hungry?. Holy Virgin Mary, Bootsie -- stop THAT! These are FBI agents! They're gonna shoot you, Bootsie. Now STOP THAT! Let go of the nice man's ankle. That's mommy's baby ... yeeess" She picked up the snarling, snapping poodle and motioned them inside. "Ya know, that last bunch of youse guys that were here were looking for my ex..you know, Vinnie? Anyhows, I keeps telling them over and over that he's not around no more. He ran off with Anna Marie Bonnetti over six months ago and get a load of this: she's says she was havin' his baby, but it sure as hell ain't his, cuz that man only shoots blanks, if ya get my meaning. Do you guys like espresso? I have cheese cake. How about grapes? It's a real shame about Mrs. Fugazy. She was so nice." Her monologue continued like a river out of control as she put Bootsie The Terror back on the floor and shut the door. Mulder and Scully sat down at the small kitchen table in the one room apartment and looked around in amazement. It appeared that an entire pride of polyester leopards had died to furnish it. The pillows were the noble sacrifice of a desperate herd of velour zebras, while the carpets belonged to some other poor textile animal, unidentified as of yet. The young woman bounced over to the kitchen which was filled with pig- shaped knick-knacs of every description. Pig dishtowels, pig pottery, porcelain pigs that were dancing ... singing ... cooking. ... sleeping. A terrifying array of porcine collectibles. "Jeez, I'm outta coffee. Howzabout tea? Do you like tea? I got Lipton, peppermint ... decaf ... lemon. God, I hate lemon tea, don't you? It tastes just like bathroom cleaner. I got honey...look, the bottle's shaped just like a bear, see? It's so cute, these honey bears. They don't always make them these days, so you gotta look for 'em. I get mine at the A&P, right down past the park.." She came over to the table and plunked down the mugs, three ceramic busts of Porky the Pig. She returned to the kitchen turn on the kettle...the pig- shaped kettle. "Doncha love this?" she yelled out pointing to the kettle. "It oinks when it boils. Ain't that a scream? Wait till you hear it..." Mulder tried to fight the inexorable current of words. "Uh, excuse me Miss Biondi," he started. "Call me Cookie. Everybody calls me Cookie. I got that name from my dad. Ya know, every Easter I would go into the box from the Mona Lisa bakery and grab all the nepolotani -- ya know, the good cookies that are always on the top of the boring ones, the ones with the jelly in them. Of course the cheap bastards only gaves you two of 'em in the whole box. Anyhows..." Mulder interrupted. This is the price you pay for your work, he thought. "Excuse me, er, Cookie. We don't want to take too much of your time, so could we just ask you a couple of questions and we'll be on our way," said Mulder as he tried to dislodge the furious poodle that was using his shoe as a chew toy. "Oh sure, sure. Here's some cheese cake. Now you GOTTA have some of this. This is Junior's cheese cake and I gotta tell ya, honey," she bent close to Scully and whispered conspiratorially. "It's better than sex and I ain't kiddin.'" Cookie nodded gravely and pushed a slice in front of Scully. Scully examined it skeptically and took a small bite. Scully's face suddenly took on the look of a woman who has seen Nirvana. "Oh my God," she said through a large mouthful. "Oh my God..." "Uh, okay. Now Mrs. Fugazy disappeared last Monday, correct?" said Mulder pulling out the file. "According to your next door neighbor, Gina Colletti, you witnessed something unusual that night. Is that true?' "Mulder, you have to try some of this," said Scully, still chewing with a blissful look on her face. "This is the most incredible..." "Gina told youse that? Jeez, what a big mouth. Ya think you can trust some people, but NOOOOO," said Cookie. "Hey, you scarfed that down, lady. Have another slice. You're much too skinny, ya know that? Is your name really Scully? Hey, do you know Patrick Scully from Bayonne? Him and his brothers, Pete & Fondo? Poor Fondo, he's dead ya know. He died offa Coney Island. He was bodysurfing during Hurricane Gloria. That crazy Fondo. We told him over and over again..." "EXCUSE ME! Could you please stick with me for one minute? Please?!?" said Mulder with a wild look on his face. "Alright already. Jesus, Mary & Joseph! Your pal here's kinda cranky, ya know that, Agent Scully?" said Cookie cutting another huge slice and placing it in front of Scully. Scully's eyes began to water with gratitude. "Calm down, buddy, you go right ahead and ask me anything ya like." "Thank you. Could you please describe what you saw on the night that Mrs. Fugazy disappeared?" asked Mulder through gritted teeth as Bootsie The Poodle had given up on his shoe and began a snarling battle to the death with his pant's leg. "Sure. This was Monday, right? OK, lessee. I was watchin' the news at ten and then I turned on Cheers at eleven. Doncha love that show? I crack up every time I see that, I swear to God. That Woody whats-his-name guy, I could watch him forever. Did you see the one when Shelly Long was dressed as a hooker for Halloween and..." Mulder thought he would go insane. "Scully? Would you mind helping me out a little here?" asked Mulder with a dark expression. Scully looked up with a mouthful of cheese cake and swallowed with a gulp. She had seen that look before. "Ummm, Cookie?" said Scully wiping her mouth. "Yeah? Ya know, I'm gonna mail you a big fruit basket, you obviously don't eat enough." said Cookie shaking her head. "Thanks. Do you know what happened to Mrs. Fugazy?" asked Scully with one eye still on the remaining slice of cheese cake. "Well, I don't know exactly what happened to her. I only know what I saw and it was pretty scary. Not scary, you know, like you're the only person in the movie house and you think a roach is climbing up your leg, scary, but scary, like a thing shaped like an really ugly lamp shade comes flying outta the sky and sucks your neighbor outta her window, scary." Cookie's voice lowered to a whisper. "As a matter of fact, EXACTLY like that." Mulder bent closer. Now they were getting somewhere... "I was watchin' Cheers like I told youse, but it was a rerun that I'd seen so I decided to dye my hair. So I put the stuff in and was starting to wait twenty minutes, actually thirty cuz this was the cheap stuff and it needs longer. Anyhows, there I was sittin' minding my own business, well, actually I was lookin' out the window to see who was fightin' with who in the building and whatnot -- when I saw it. There it was hoverin' and Jesus...it was so...so.." "Terrifying?" finished Mulder hopefully. "No, tacky. I mean capital 'T'...taaaacccky. Now you think if guys from outer space could figure out how to fly a billion miles to here, they sure as hell could figure out how to color co-ordinate a little. I mean this thing put the 'U' in ugly, pal. Anyhows,there it was. Right outside poor Mrs. Fugazy's window. Oh, there goes the kettle" said Cookie as a cacophony of "oinks" filled the room. She raced to the kitchen and brought out the steaming kettle, holding it carefully in the mouth of a pig shaped oven mitt. She continued as she poured the boiling water in the mugs.. "Anyways, suddenly I sees this light, right? It was blue like the blue ya sees in those new Calvin Klein shiny shirts. Have you seen them yet? They are something, I gotta get one. Anyhows, there it is, right? And it's shining right into Mrs. Fugazy's apartment. All of a sudden I sees Mrs. Fugazy outside her window. Oh, my God, I'm thinkin', Mrs. Fugazy's finally lost it, I says -- she gonna kill herself! "Oh, my God" I yells out the window."MRS. FUGAZY, DON'T DO IT!" I'm screaming and screaming..."MRS. FUGAZY, DON'T JUMP. WE'RE GETTING CABLE NEXT WEEK!" "Cable?" asked Mulder his eyes narrowing. "Yeah, well we don't got cable yet so I figures I gotta give her a reason to live, ya see. Anyhows, she went out the window alright, but instead of hitting the cement like six tons of chopped chuck tossed outta plane, she's floating up, up, up...right to the spaceship. Can you believe it? I swear to God, and lemme tell you, Mrs. Fugazy was a great lady, but she was no lightweight. Oh no, honey,that woman was bigger than than Shamu The Whale after eatin' a couple hundred pounds of ravioli, mind you. I swear, those spacemen musta gotten some hernia liftin' that balloon outta her window. She musta weighed five hundred pounds, nah, six hundred. She coulda used some Sweatin' to The Oldies I always thought, but I never said nothing, cuz I don't like to say too much, you know?" Fox Mulder didn't look like he agreed with that, but kept it to himself. "But she sure was a moose, uh, huh. Anyhows, I'm standing there and lookin' with my mouth hangin' open lookin' at Mrs. Fugazy flying around the neighborhood like the Hindenberg on drugs, when I thinks to myself, jeez, what if these spaceguys decide that Mrs. Fugazy just ain't gonna fit? I mean, there's only so much room in that thing, for crying out loud. And that flyin' saucer looked like it might be tiltin' a little to one side just to haul Miss Fat Behind on board. It was struggling and I'm thinking "Whoa, those guys are gonna drop ol' Jello Ass and try for somethin' a little lighter", ya know? And guess who that might be?" asked Cookie indignantly. "I can't imagine," said Mulder dryly. "Then you ain't much of an FBI agent, pal. I'm talkin' about ME! A bunch of bug-eyed doofs from Mars were gonna grab ME.. All because Madam Lard Butt couldn't stop chowin' down those Ring Ding's. Well that would just figure, I mean just my luck, ya know? Anyways, ain't no way, no how I'm gonna go nowhere. I mean, I always wanted to travel...you know...maybe gota Europe before I died, Disneyworld, that kinda stuff. But orbitin' Pluto ain't my idea of a fun vacation. Let them take Moby Dick out there I says. The survival of the fittest, that's my motto. And I'm a helluva lot fitter than Mrs. Fugazy, so I hit the deck and Mrs. Fugazy is sucked inside, whooosh!. And BANG! The thing takes off inta the stars. Faster than a roach runs when you turn on the hallway light, boy and that's pretty damn fast." said Cookie finally inhaling. She exhaled with a deep, yes, determined breath. "And that's my story and I'm sticking to it." "Pardon me for asking this, but didn't this experience upset you? Just a little bit?" asked Mulder, thinking of his own decades of torment. "Nah. I mean, sure, poor Mrs. Fugazy, ya know. But, hey, that's life in the big city. Le Grande Appley. Neuva Yorko. The Big Cheese. And I'll bet *those* guys got cable. And liposuction. Can't be all that bad. Jeez, Agent Scully, don't this guy ever let you get a bite to eat? You polished off that whole thing. Agent Mulder you should be ashamed of yourself. You should take her out for a nice dinner. What kinda guy are you?" "Uh," said Mulder, turning somewhat red. "A beautiful girl like this and you don't even take her out to a nice restaraunt once in a while? I should smack you. Tell ya what, there's the number for Lento's, best pizza in New York. Now you call them and make a reservation right now. I mean, look at her...she's a stick, for Gods sake. How's she gonna have all those kids you two are gonna raise, if she never gets a decent meal? Now call. Before I get mad. And you don't wanna see me mad. Hurry up. Scoot." "Uh ..." said Mulder and Scully in unison turning quite a shade of red. "DON'T ARGUE WITH ME!!!" Mulder ran for the phone. "Thank you. And now honey, lemme tell you about those Scully's in Bayonne. You're gonna just DIE laughin'...are you sure you ain't related?" ****************** THE END. Any comments!!! Send 'em along..to cicilean@yahoo.com. If you send flames, great....but be prepared to meet....BOOTSIE!!! -------------------------------------------------------------------------Google Home - Advertising Programs -Business Solutions - About Google ©2004 Google