MiSTed: Rock Climbing!
Mark Sachs
[SOL Bridge. Joel and Crow are deep into an intense game of Hangman --
the complete board game set, with the little screens and letter chips and
everything.]
JOEL: Is there an "E"?
CROW: [turning the little wheel with his beak] Nnnnnnnnnnnnnope.
[Tom ducks into frame.]
TOM: Hi, everyone, welcome to the Satellite of Love. Joel and Crow are facing
off in the world-champion Hangman competition. Let's watch.
CROW: Is there a "Z"?
JOEL: [turning it over] One "Z".
CROW: Zymurgy.
JOEL: [turning all the letters over] Oh! You win again. How come I can't
get any of your words, Crow?
CROW: You need a better dictionary, silly human. Best five out of nine?
JOEL: Well, oka -- Wait a minute. What was your word this time?
CROW: You can't see it. It's a secret.
JOEL: [walking over] Let me just -- Hey!
CROW: What? What?
JOEL: "Ghlkning"? That's not a word.
CROW: Uhhhh, sure it is. It's the action or process of being a... ghlkn.
Yeah.
JOEL: Oh, I don't think so.
[The Mads' light starts flashing.]
TOM: Hey, Professor Peter Schickele and John Kimura-Parker are calling.
JOEL: Probably just as well. What's on your mind, evil sirs?
[Deep 13. Only Dr. Forrester is present.]
DR. F: Can the pleasantries, Sergeant Bargent, it's time for this week's
invention exchange.
[SOL Bridge.]
JOEL: Well, sirs, our invention exchange is the Turn Signal-Steering Wheel
Governor. Isn't it annoying when you're driving along, and the person in
front of you changes lanes without using their turn signal?
CROW: Or worse, drives five hundred miles with their right signal flashing?
JOEL: This invention solves that problem, by locking the steering wheel
to the turn signal. Tom shall demonstrate.
[Tom starts driving across the desk in his little car.]
TOM: Brrrm. Brrrrrrm!
JOEL: Watch this.
[Joel reaches into the car's cockpit and flips on the left turn signal.
The car immediately screeches to the left, drops off the desk, and explodes
spectacularily out of frame.]
CROW: Wow!
JOEL: Er... anyway, that's the idea. What do you think, sirs?
TOM: [weakly] Medic...
[Deep 13.]
DR. F: That's cute, Tucker. Our invention exchange is far more practical.
[holding up a tiny silicon chip] You've heard of the locator chip for pets,
so if they get lost and are turned into an animal shelter they can be
identified and returned to their owners. This is clearly not evil at all,
so I've rectified the situation with the Locator Chip for Humans.
[Dr. F produces a huge circuit board at least twenty-four inches across.]
DR. F: Installation is simple. Here, I'll show you. Oh, Frank!
FRANK: [offscreen] I'm busy! I've almost figured out how to get past
Icon of Sin!
[Dr. F smirks and then tosses the circuit board like a frisbee.]
FRANK: [offscreen] YAAAAH!
[Frank enters from stage right, with the circuit board driven entirely
through his chest. The label TV'S FRANK. PLEASE RETURN TO DEEP 13, GIZMONIC
INSTITUTE, EDEN PRAIRIE, MI 56000 is clearly visible.]
DR. F: As you can see, humans who have been "tagged" with this chip are
easily identifiable, without any complex equipment.
FRANK: And if I get lost again, Dr. Forrester won't have to put my face
on milk cartons this time!
[Frank reflectively scratches his chest where the circuit board's gone
through it.]
DR. F: Frank, don't scratch that or it'll never heal. Well, up to you,
Boobie.
[SOL. Crow is trying to blow out the burning wreckage of Tom's car. Joel
is bandaging Tom's dome.]
JOEL: Oh, that's sick and disgusting!
TOM: Yeah!
[Deep 13.]
DR. F: Oh, yeah? You ain't seen _nothing_ yet, McGoonagal. Your experiment
today is a little slice of hell from alt.tv.x-files.creative. It's called
"Rock Climbing". It's about rock climbing, and those are the _good_ parts.
Enjoy!
[SOL: Movie Sign.]
JOEL: Oh, no! We've got fanfic sign!
TOM: Trust no one!
CROW: Deny everything!
JOEL: The truth is out therrrrrre...
[All bolt for the theater.]
...G...6...5...4...3...2...1...
>Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
TOM: Oh, _man_. We're in for it.
>Path:
>news.Traveller.COM!news.internetMCI.com!newsfeed.internetmci.com!chi-news.ci
>c.net!nntp.coast.net!torn!nott!cunews!freenet.carleton.ca!FreeNet.Carleton.C
>A!cj007
>From: cj...@FreeNet.Carleton.CA (Dorothy Liang)
TOM: [falsetto] Dorothy? Dorothy!
>Subject: NEW: ROCK CLIMBING by Req
>Message-ID: <DJ0uJ...@freenet.carleton.ca>
>Sender: cj...@freenet3.carleton.ca (Dorothy Liang)
>Reply-To: cj...@FreeNet.Carleton.CA (Dorothy Liang)
CROW: Okay! Dorothy Liang! We get it! Sheesh.
>Organization: The National Capital FreeNet
JOEL: Kind of a shame the government shutdown didn't reach this far.
>Date: Sun, 3 Dec 1995 17:43:03 GMT
>Lines: 238
CROW: [glumly] Whee.
>
>Pleeze send comments to <cj...@freenet.carleton.ca>.
JOEL: [importantly] I didn't get where I am today by writing bad fanfics.
TOM: Yes, C. J.
>DISCLAIMER: Dana
>Scully and Fox Mulder are the property of Chris, Gillian, David, and
>those-guys-up-there.
CROW: Does she mean us?
>Absolutely, one-hundred percent no infringement is
>intended here. Honestly, guys.
>
>********************
>"Rock Climbing"
>story by Requiem and idea by Widget
TOM: Adapted from the novel by Bret Easton Ellis.
JOEL: With all-new music by Whitney Houston, Boyz II Men and Alien Sex Fiend.
CROW: And visit the "Rock Climbing" site on the World Wide Web at
http://www.rockclimbing.com!
> *******
CROW: "Rock Climbing" is taped before a live studio audience.
> It was slow in the X-Files division. No new cases, which was a
>good thing, seeing as how Agents Dana Scully and Fox Mulder were finally
>getting a chance to get some good ol' R&R.
TOM: [drawling] Well, it was 'round that time that the ol' Duke boys
got killed by that vampire cult...
>They had both accumulated more
>vacation time than they wanted.
JOEL: Oh, it must be hell for them.
TOM: Mmm-hm.
>This morning, Assistant Director Walter
>Skinner had insisted that the two of them take a three-day vacation.
>Both Scully and Mulder had protested, but in the end, Skinner had
>gotten his way.
TOM: Five hundred days of detention for you, Simpson!
>He smiled inwardly at these
>two.
JOEL: [Skinner] Those zany kids. I just can't stay mad at 'em.
>If only all of his agents were as dedicated as Scully and Mulder. Not
>that they were necessarily his favorite agents, they would give him more
>reasons to lose his hair
CROW: Hair? This is Skinner we're talking about, right?
>than hiring one of those crummy lawyers with the
>equally crummy commercials on TV.
TOM: [TV lawyer voice] And remember! You pay no attorney's fees
unless we recover your alien-abducted relatives! Call now!
>Well, "can't win 'em all"
CROW: Or indeed, any of 'em...
>was his
>philosophy around them, so go figure.
JOEL: [dumb voice] Hyuk! Go figure, Assistant Director Kooky!
> Dana Scully and Fox Mulder were partners. Friends. Okay, seeing as
>neither of them had any real life, they were best friends, as close and
>probably closer than a brother and sister. Sometimes, Skinner thought that
>there was more, but most of the time they were just very close,
>professional partners.
TOM: I can't emphasize the term "partners" enough.
JOEL: It sounds like the author is trying to talk herself into something.
> *******
>The Ford Taurus stopped.
CROW: [corporate announcer voice] A fanfic is getting off to a rough start,
and the Ford Motor Company is there!
>Scully was really starting to get ticked off at
>the guys down in accounting. She had asked for something small and green,
JOEL: So they gave her a wind-up frog. Sheesh.
>like a Pontiac Grand Prix, but NO! NO! She had to get a Ford Taurus! A
>gray one! Again!
TOM: [sarcastic] Oh, does the FBI motor pool not meet the great Dana
Scully's needs?
CROW: Why is she going to the _accounting_ department to get a _car_?
> *Argh... * <I'm gonna have to have a word with Larry, Curly and
>Moe... Yes... A word...>
JOEL: And that word? "Artichoke."
> She trudged into the building and found its elevator. <Okay.
>Fourth floor, right? Yeah. Okay. Alright. I'm fine.>
TOM: Wow. The stress of being with Mulder is really getting to her.
JOEL: She should take a vacation from this vacation.
>She pushed the button
>marked "4",
CROW: [too-perfect Dr. F voice] Push the button, Dana.
>and waited to feel the jolt.
JOEL: Ohhh, yes...
TOM: [scandalized] _Joel_!
>The doors slid open, and she
>walked to apartment #42. She knocked on the brown door. <Hey, look, knock
>on wood...
TOM: [gaily] That's not woo-ood!
ALL: Ewwwww.
>Sure, Dana, like any luck will come out of this. Well, you're
>gonna be with him all day, right?
TOM: Seven hours, fifty-eight minutes and forty-five seconds... seven hours,
fifty-eight minutes and thirty seconds... seven hours, fifty-eight minutes
and fifteen sec --
>How much better could things be?
>......... A lot better. Shut up. Stop it. Don't do this to yourself. It's
>not healthy.
CROW: You'll go blind!
>This is your partner, here. This is purely for professional
>reasons. Right. Got it.> As she snapped out of her mental conversation,
CROW: [Brit] The problem with talking to yourself is, half the time you
know what you're going to say next...
>she saw that Mulder was standing in his doorway, looking at her with a
>grin on his face.
> "Hey, Scully, you been thinking about me?
TOM: [menacingly] Me 'n the boys want you to watch who you think about, see?
>Yes, I do have that
>effect on people."
JOEL: Nausea?
>She playfully punched him in the arm
CROW: And then playfully kneed him in the groin.
JOEL: It's kind of odd. I don't remember Scully _ever_ being playful on
the TV show.
TOM: Is that so.
JOEL: Yeah. Just realized that.
TOM: That's nice, Joel.
>and walked past
>him into his apartment. She refused to look at him. He would see what she
>was thinking
CROW: "What a moron..."
>and he would see her blushing madly. "Hey!" Her face went
>back to its normal color, and she turned, smiling, to look at him.
CROW: [dramatically] Scully bared her teeth, and sunk them into --
JOEL: Crow...
TOM: [too quickly] Fangs? So what! So she has fangs! That doesn't prove
anything!
>He
>tried to put on an expression of mock hurt, but he was grinning too
>broadly, and he failed miserably.
JOEL: Everyone in this fanfic is way too _happy_ for an X-Files story.
> "Well, Mulder, are you ready to go?"
> "Yep." He stood there, staring at her. This incredible woman that
>he didn't deserve to have as his partner. Yet she was.
JOEL: Ain't life crazy?
TOM: [makes zany noise]
><Wow.>
CROW: [Mulder] I just realized, Scully! Those take-out pizza coupons are
still valid!
> "Mul-l-l-l-l-l-der-r-r-r-rr!
ALL: Rrrr-rrr-rrr-r!
>Hello? Earth to Mulder? You there?"
> "Oh! Oops! Uh... Heh-heh-heh... Sorry, Dana--Scully, I mean...
>Um... Let's go, shall we?"
CROW: Ellipses courtesy of Cheryl "Double Vision" Davis.
TOM: Since when has Mulder ever been this _inarticulate_?
>He suddenly found his shoes to be extremely
>intriguing.
> She couldn't miss the fact that he had used her first name.
JOEL: Oh, she _is_ an FBI agent.
> "Okay, Mulder, gimme your bag. You can drive."
> *******
> After a fifteen minute ride, they finally arrived at their destination.
TOM: "Finally"? After _fifteen minutes_?
JOEL: In Washington, it takes fifteen minutes to get to the end of your
driveway!
> "Well, Ms. Dana, here we are!"
> She spoke with an air of sarcasm.
CROW: Oh, Agent Sarcasm.
>"Here we go... I can't believe
>that this, may I remind you, _mandatory-for-FBI-agents_ rock-climbing
>course is our way of vacationing...
JOEL: [exasperated] Well, then, go do something _else_! Geez!
>Mulder, I've been hanging around you
>too much."
> "What are you implying, Scully? That I'm a... a... a... a
TOM: ...Stutterer?
>workaholic? We're required to take this course anyhow. Besides, is
>spending time with me a bad thing?"
CROW: Everything Mulder says in this story just sort of falls with a
dull thud.
> "Workaholic? Heaven forbid!" She started to fidget with her seat
>belt.
JOEL: You kids stop kicking the seat and sit still, or I'm turning this
car around!
>Her voice softened. "And no... Spending time with you is not a bad
>thing. In fact, I enjoy it."
CROW: I enjoy... pancakes more.
> Suddenly, Scully undid her seat belt and exited the car.
ALL: Yaah!
>She
>briskly walk-ran to the complex's door,
CROW: Pulled-yanked it open, and strolled-sauntered inside.
>and went inside to the room with
>the high, gray wall with multicolored artificial rocks fixed on it.
JOEL: It's the Jerry Garcia Memorial Rockslide!
> *******
TOM: Meanwhile, on an episode of "Homicide" not far away...
> The room was filled with FBI agents, stretching and putting on
>their gear.
CROW: Not since "The Sinister Urge" has there been a scene this sensual,
ladies and gentlemen.
JOEL: The what?
TOM: Uh... we'll tell you later.
>Scully had on a pair of navy blue shorts, a black tank top,
>and was readily equipped.
ALL: [sleazy voice] We _know_.
>She was now patiently waiting for Mulder. <I
>wonder what he's doing in that change room...
TOM: At a wild guess... CHANGING?!?!
>Wait, Dana, DON'T!
CROW: Don't! No! Bad Dana!
>Clear
>your mind of those thoughts,
TOM: [intoning] Empty your mind, grasshopper... free yourself of all
conscious thought.
CROW: Then you'll be ready to write fanfics!
>before you explode on him... Hmmmm... That'd
>be... fun... Ack!>
CROW: Scully's turned into Cathy!
JOEL: Either that or Bill the Cat.
>She had to have a spotter,
JOEL: Dibs! I call dibs.
TOM and CROW: D'oh.
>and she didn't happen to see
>anyone else she'd rather have spot her. She didn't really want to spot
>anyone else, either...
TOM: [cheerily] Yes, bitter loneliness and sociopathy defines Dana
Scully's life!
> Mulder came out,
CROW: ["Minnewegian" voice] I think that was so brave of him.
TOM: [ditto] Ooh, yah.
>dressed in a pair of blue silk shorts, a black
>T-shirt with a bad artist's interpretation of an alien *shock, surprise*,
JOEL: What, did this fanfic come pre-read or something?
>and climbing equipment. Scully's back was to him, her eyes closed. She was
>dancing to the music that was playing softly on a radio in the corner.
[Joel and the 'bots dance along with Scully.]
TOM: [falsetto, singing] We're stupid, and contagious... here we are now,
imitate us...
>He
>walked around her to face her, and playfully took her in a big, giant bear
>hug and started dancing along, matching the rhythm of her body movements.
>Her eyes opened, and she was
TOM: Playfully filing a sexual harassment complaint.
>hugging him back.
> "Oof! Mulder! You're ready, I see..."
CROW: Is that a copy of the secret Area 51 tapes in your pocket or are you
just happy to see me?
JOEL: Crow!
><Oh, shoot. Dana,
TOM: Shoot Dana? Well, if it'll end the story early...
>he's got
>his arms around you. This is not a good thing right now. But it feels so
>nice and cozy. Nice, indeed.> They stood there, dancing for a minute, and
>then the instructor started a lecture about safety or something.
CROW: Yeah, about how not to fall off mountains or some useless crap like
that. Bor-ing.
>The other
>agents had gathered around the instructor and were listening carefully.
>These two, however, were paying no attention to anyone but each other and
>themselves. <Oy! Mulder!
TOM: Oy gevalt! I'm gonna plotz right here!
>Look what you've done now! What are you gonna do?
TOM: Hyuk! That's our Mulder!
CROW: Whose internal narration is this, anyway?
JOEL: I think it's the author's.
>Other than stay here? Ooooh, she smells nice. This feels so good.>
CROW: [dumb voice] Duh... girl pretty...
> Suddenly, a whistle followed by a loud, piercing female voice with
>a western accent shattered their little world,
TOM: [singing] Words like violence, break the silence, come crashing in,
into my little world...
>and brought them back to
>reality. "Hey! You two lovebirds! Snap out of it! We've started climbing
>already! Get yer beee-hinds up there!"
CROW: Bette Midler, in a role that won't surprise you.
> "Huh? Oh, um... Well, then, Scully, let's hop to it!" They
>unraveled themselves and found a spot for Mulder to start climbing.
ALL: [singing] Rocks, rocks, rocks, rocks, rocks, rocks, rocks, rocks --
>He
>successfully got halfway up the wall, and then he cried out in distress.
> "SCULLY! HELP!"
TOM: Jane, stop this crazy thing!
> "MULDER! WHAT?"
> "Where do I go from here?"
JOEL: Well, you could try to break into feature films. Didn't work for
David Caruso, though.
> "Well, I suppose you could take that purple rock with your right
>hand, and then extend your left leg onto that black rock over there."
TOM: _Blackrock_? We must report this to Lord British at once!
> "What if I take that green one up there with my left hand?"
CROW: Left hand, green! Right hand, blue!
> "I don't know about that, Mulder, I don't think it's attached
>firmly enough."
JOEL: What, his hand?
> "Aw, I can do it, Scully, no problem."
> "Okay, Mulder, whatever you say."
TOM: [falsetto] ...you freak.
> With that, Mulder reached with his right hand to grip the green
>rock above him. Thud!
JOEL: [quickly] It's the kooky, zany Sound Effects Rock! By Marx.
>"A-A-AH! OUCH!" He had plunged two whole meters onto
TOM: [hopefully] The hard, unforgiving concrete?
>a soft, cushy mat,
CROW: Sorry, Servo, I guess he lived.
TOM: No problem... Next to a gasoline truck! BOOM! Oh, the humanity!
JOEL: Guys...
>right in front of where Scully had been standing. He
>looked up, and saw her looking down at him-- for once it wasn't in a
>dream.
CROW: So, Mulder often dreams of falling off mountains in front of Scully.
TOM: Sometimes a mountain is just a mountain, Dr. Freud.
>She was trying hard not to burst out laughing, but it wasn't
>working.
TOM: [annoyed] Funny, it always works on the _TV show_...
JOEL: We left the TV show behind _long_ ago.
>He was still lying there, pouting.
> "Okay, alright, so I was wrong. It's really not that funny, you know."
> "Hah-hah-hah! Yes it is!"
JOEL: I think it's a more thoughtful kind of funny, actually.
>Her face was turning a shade of red
>because she was laughing so hard.
TOM: Either that, or because they sucked all the air out of the room.
>He put on a face of mock hurt,
TOM: Aaahh! It's Hexadecimal!
>and
>deviously grabbed her arm and pulled her down beside him. Before she
>realized what had happened, she found herself looking up at the off-white
>ceiling.
CROW: [falsetto] Hmm. Needs spackle. Maybe some nice track lighting...
>She turned to her right side, and found herself resting
>face-to-face with Mulder, her body plastered against his,
JOEL: Today on "This Old House" we'll be plastering FBI agents. You
start out by --
>their noses
>almost rubbing.
ALL: [make nose beeping noises]
><Oh, my gosh, he's so close.> She suddenly found the air
>to be thick, and it was hard to breath .
TOM: Oop. Sorry, that was me.
CROW: Phew! Gross.
>His heart was pounding, and his
>breath came in short, barely audible gasps. His whole body seemed to
>tickle.
JOEL: His kneecaps were on fire. His uvula was slightly uncomfortable.
TOM: Mulder's having a whole-body general protection fault here.
>She gathered her thoughts,
CROW: [muttering] Bet that didn't take long.
>and her breathing returned to normal,
>as did his.
> "Mulder?"
> "Yeah?"
> "Could you do me a favor?"
> "Sure, Scully, anything. You know that."
TOM: [falsetto] Can I punch you really hard? Just once?
> "Well, next time, could you tell me before hand if you're gonna do
>something kinky?"
> Before he could respond, a fellow agent was pointing at the two,
>and hollered, "HEY, GUYS! PILE ON!"
[All laugh weakly.]
TOM: I don't believe this.
CROW: [clown voice] It's the wacky FBI Funhouse! Hoo-hoo-hoo!
JOEL: This is how Waco happened, you know. Someone yelled "Pile on!" and
they all just...
>Almost immediately, agents were
>heading for the mat on which Scully and Mulder were lying so comfortably.
>Within ten seconds, Scully and Mulder once again couldn't breath properly.
>This time, though, it was because they were being crushed beneath a pile
>of at least ten people.
TOM: I wonder if the author has ever even _seen_ "The X-Files."
> From the bottom of the pile came a cry which was muffled to
>everyone but Scully. "A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-AH! HELP!"
CROW: What's that you say, girl? Fox Mulder's fallen down the well?
> In response was a reply that was directed into Mulder's inner ear.
JOEL: Innerspace!
>"MULDER! YOU'RE YELLING IN MY EAR!"
> "Argh!" His voice wasn't quite as loud this time. "Oh! Sorry,
>Scully!"
JOEL: Their mouths are pointing directly into each other's ears? I cannot
visualize this.
> TWE-E-E-E-E-ET! The instructor blew her whistle.
CROW: She's calling this fanfic on accout of stupidity!
>"Okay, alright,
>THAT'S ENOUGH! Get off of there!" When the agents started complaining
>about spoiling their fun, the instructor took it upon herself to make
>herself clear. "NOW! EVERYONE!" At that, the agents moved quickly.
CROW: And another scene just sort of grinds to a halt.
> ********
> Scully and Mulder were in Scully's kitchen making tea. On the way
>home, they had decided against ever going rock-climbing for fun. The
>kettle was on, and they were waiting for the water to boil.
JOEL: Don't watch it boiling, otherwise it'll take forever.
>Scully was
>holding a cup in which there was a tea bag, in her hand.
TOM: So just to be clear on this, Scully is holding a cup...
CROW: ...which is in her hand.
TOM: Okay. I think I can picture it.
>Mulder was
>holding 'his' cup--
CROW: Eww! Mulder, do that in private if you have to!
>goodness knows he was over at her place often enough,
JOEL: [Minnewegian voice] Ooo, goodness knows, yah!
>so she had decided to make a cup his, along with a shelf in her medicine
>cabinet and a drawer in her dresser.
JOEL: Okay, we're getting a bit speculative here, Dorothy...
TOM: Strangely, Mulder asked specifically for her underwear drawer.
>He shoved the cup with a tea bag
>inside in her face.
TOM: [muffled] Mmf! Oww!
JOEL: Wow, Scully needs to file a restraining order on this guy.
> "Hey, Scully, guess what?"
> "What?" She pushed the cup aside.
JOEL: That's what! Ha ha!
> "I'm going to be original today."
CROW: Original? In _this_ fanfic?
TOM: You gotta admit, it's _nothing_ like the TV show.
[all sigh]
> "Mulder, we went to a rock-climbing course that we would have had
>to go to anyhow, as part of our vacation. How much more original do want
>to be?" She gave him an inquisitive look.
CROW: _Nobody_ expects the Spanish -- oh, forget it.
> "Yep. I'm gonna put my sugar in _with_ the tea bag, _before_ I put
>the water in."
> "Oh, you are, are you?"
> "Absolutely."
TOM: [exasperated] Fer cryin' out loud, how inane can this story _get_?
> "Oo-hoo, Mulder, living on the dangerous side today, hmm?"
> "That's what I'm doing!" He looked like a little boy who got a good
>report card and just received praise from his mother.
JOEL: There is a whole _world_ of unsavory connotations going on here.
> "Wow, Mulder, I never guessed you had it in you!"
> "There are some secrets you have yet to learn, Scully."
TOM: The secret of NIMH.
CROW: The recipe for McDonald's Secret Sauce.
JOEL: The secret of George Bush's appeal.
CROW: But George Bush doesn't have any appeal.
JOEL: THAT'S THE SECRET!!
> "Oh, really?" Her voice told him that he had her full attention.
> "Yessir."
> "Like what? Or do I want to know?" She raised an eyebrow.
CROW: [getting agitated] I am O.D.'ing on banter!
> "Well, there's one thing I've been think of a lot lately... "
> "What is it?"
TOM: [Mulder] I'm looking for a new agent. No more fanfics!
> "Telling you would be too easy... You guess!"
> "What? Aww, no, come on, that's no fair! You've already built it up
>too much!
CROW: Kind of like the surprise plot twists in "Babylon 5"!
>I'll never get it! There are a million things possible!"
> "All the more fun, my dear!"
JOEL: [Wicked Witch voice] The better to bore you with, my dear!
> Shelooked deep into his eyes, trying to see what he was
>thinking.
TOM: Apparently he was thinking about his corneas.
>Suddenly, the kettle started to whistle. Scully took Mulder's
>cup from him, walked over to the other side of the kitchen, and unplugged
>the appliance. She put the cups down on the counter. She put sugar in
>Mulder's cup, and then she filled both cups with water.
CROW: No one will be seated during the gripping tea-preparation scene.
>Mulder joined her,
>and began stirring the cups of tea.
> *******
TOM: One slice of cake without so much rat in it later...
> Scully walked Mulder to the door. They had been sitting on her
>couch for much too long, Scully trying to
TOM: Subtly hint that it was time for Mulder to go.
JOEL: [documentary voice] Dana Scully feigns death until Fox Mulder,
sensing the awkwardness, gets up and leaves...
>guess at what Mulder had yet to
>tell her about himself, and Mulder smiling gleefully every time she
>guessed something that wasn't true or he plain wasn't what he was thinking
>of. She opened the door, and he was about to leave,
CROW: [muttering] Come on, come on... go already...
>when he turned around
CROW: Damn.
>and got a thoughtful look on his face.
> "Scully?"
> "Yes, Mulder?" She was tired.
> "Do you want to know?"
JOEL: You can't handle the truth!
> "Yes, but you won't tell me, so what does that matter?" She was
>starting to sound irritated.
CROW: Joel, this is going _nowhere_!
> "I'll tell you what: if you tell me a secret, then I'll tell you
>what I was thinking of."
> "Um... Hmm... Well, okay." She sounded more interested now.
> "Good. You go first."
> "Uh-uh, Mulder, no way. _You_ first, then I'll go."
TOM: AAAAHHHHHHHH!!!
> "Oh, fine..." He hesitated for a moment, and then he leaned towards
>her, and his lips met the corner of her mouth.
'BOTS: [make sloppy kissing noises]
TOM: [Scully] You taste like ectoplasm.
CROW: [Mulder] Oh, yeah? _You_ taste like embalming fluid.
>They stayed there for what
>seemed like an eternity.
JOEL: [dispiritedly] Okay, everyone who saw this scene coming, raise your
hands. I thought so.
>Reluctantly, he straightened himself out, and
>looked into her eyes, afraid of what her reaction might be. The corners of
>her mouth curved upwards and
TOM: Met each other above her nose. It was _disgusting_.
>into a soft smile. She took his hand, and
>surprised him, as well as herself, as she whispered,
JOEL: "I'm sorry, but there's a radio connected to my brain"?
TOM: "The Big Cheese gets his at midnight tonight"?
CROW: "Bite me, you loser"?
> "Me too."
CROW: Oh, Scully's an AOL'er! Haha!
> He broke out into a huge grin. "For how long?" His voice was
>barely audible to her, but in his mind he was shouting.
TOM: In his mind, he had better _dialogue_!
> She was a little louder this time, more confident in what she was
>going to say. "Since forever... What about you?"
> "Ditto."
> "Cool."
JOEL: These are, like, two completely other people named Mulder and Scully.
> He squeezed her hand gently,
ALL: [make bone-crunching noises]
>and backed out,
TOM: [makes truck-backing-up noises]
>his eyes never
>leaving hers. He stood in the hallway, facing her. "See you tomorrow,
>then?"
> "Without a doubt." She was leaning against the side of the door frame.
CROW: It's Fox Mulder and Dana Scully in "Posture Pals"!
> "Okay... Bye." He turned and headed for the elevator, Scully
>looking after him.
TOM: [Mulder] Wait a minute! We were in _my_ apartment!
> "Bye... Fox..."
CROW: I knew that network wouldn't last.
> He stopped and turned around to look at her. "Later, Dana." With
>that, he forced himself to get going, otherwise he'd never get out of
>there. Not that he wanted to...
TOM: [impatiently] Is that it? Can _we_ get going now?
JOEL: I think so.
[Exeunt.]
...6...5...4...3...2...1...G...
[SOL Bridge.]
TOM: Man. That's the sort of fanfic that just wraps you up in a big bear
hug and _suffocates_ you.
CROW: Yeah. Say, Joel, we've run into some bad Star Trek fanfics and
some bad Highlander fanfics -- but why is it that the X-Files fanfics
are always the worst?
JOEL: Good question, and, you know, I think I've found the perfect
people to answer it.
TOM: Well, speak of the devil, something's coming in on the Hexfield!
[The Hexfield opens, revealing Fox Mulder and Dana Scully (portrayed,
natch, by Mike Nelson and Mary Jo Pehl.) They are posing in the standard
X-Files publicity shot -- back to back in front of a grungy brick wall,
moodily lit, staring out at the camera with arms folded and calm looks on
their faces. They never move and barely change expression through the
entire sketch.]
TOM: Wow! FBI agents Fox Mulder and Dana Scully!
SCULLY: What's the situation here?
CROW: Well, uh, Dana --
SCULLY: You can call me "Agent Scully."
CROW: Uh, sure. We've just been reading this really bad fanfic, and --
MULDER: Who sent it to you?
JOEL: A bunch of mad scientists. You know 'em?
MULDER: Oh, yes. Dr. Clayton Forrester and TV's Frank.
[Spooky music starts in the background.]
MULDER: Forrester, the instigator of the project. Frank, brought in after
Forrester's co-author, Dr. Laurence Erhardt, vanished in a mysterious
blimp accident; the day after, strange lights were seen in the sky all the
way west to Kenosha, Wisconsin. Known to be tools of the Greys, the Blues,
the Trilateral Commission, and Comedy Central...
JOEL: Look, can you hang on a minute? [loudly] Gypsy, can you listen to
your Twin Peaks soundtrack later? We're on the phone!
GYPSY: [offscreen] Sorry!
[The spooky music stops abruptly.]
MULDER: ...Anyway, yeah, we've heard of 'em.
SCULLY: There have been eighteen similar incidents of bad fanfics up
and down the Midwest this year, all directly traceable to the shadowy
Gizmonics Institute.
MULDER: Coinciding with an increase in crop circles and alien landings --
SCULLY: Oh, Mulder, don't start going on about the aliens again.
MULDER: Scully, I've seen 'em. The concept of alien abduction --
SCULLY: Shut up, Mulder, you don't know the first thing about alien
abductions!
TOM: [quickly] So, look, can you just tell us, what's the deal with
these fanfics? Why are they always so awful?
[Pause.]
SCULLY: [frowning] Because the writers aren't very good.
MULDER: Duh. Anyone could've told you _that_.
TOM: Oh. Er, well... thanks.
[The hexfield closes.]
CROW: I guess that clears _that_ up.
JOEL: What do you think, sirs?
[Deep 13. Dr. Forrester is slouched behind the console, wearing a cheap,
rumpled black suit, smoking a cigarette. A nearby ashtray is filled with
more cigarette butts.]
DR. F: Clearly the situation has reached a critical stage. Our "friends"
in the X-Files division are going to have to go on vacation... permanently.
Ha ha ha ha. Bwa ha ha ha ha! HA HA HA --
[Frank enters, carrying a formaldehyde container.]
FRANK: [interrupting] Where do you want this alien fetus, Clay?
DR. F: Wha -- Oh, just file it under "fetus, alien," Frank.
FRANK: You got it.
DR. F: [stubbing out his cigarette] And while you're here, push the button.
FRANK: Live to serve -- WAAH!
[Frank trips over something and the jar goes flying. It lands on The
Button and shatters.]
\ | /
\|/
--*-- poit!
/|\
/ | \
FRANK: Ewwwwwww! I'm not cleaning _that_ up.
---
CREDITS:
MiSTing by Mark Sachs
The characters within are the property of Best Brains, Inc. or Ten Thirteen
Productions, as appropriate, and no infringement is intended. ("Honestly,
guys.") This MiSTing is purely in fun and should not be taken in a harsh,
judgemental fashion. (So no offense meant, Dorothy Liang.) Made in U.S.A.
A You Rebel Scum, Inc. Production
> "Okay, alright, so I was wrong. It's really not that funny, you know."
> "Hah-hah-hah! Yes it is!"
va...@nando.net
and Bridget would play Scully.