From: mentholithium@iname.com Date: Thu, 4 Feb 1999 01:48:26 -0500 (EST) Subject: The Axe Title: The Axe Author: Cancergirl Category: Story/Humor Rating: TV-PG (PG) Spoilers: Wetwired Summary: Sitting home one night, Mulder and Scully grow increasingly frustrated with network television. Disclaimer: Chris Carter is to be respected for his redeeming contribution to the mindless antimatter known as television. But nothing else. -------------------------------------------------------- SUNDAY, 8:33 PM THE APARTMENT OF FOX MULDER ALEXANDRIA, VIRGINIA "And Rodman with the rebound... he passes it to Jordan... a three-point shot at the buzzer AND IT'S IN!!! The Bulls win! The Bulls win 107 to 105 over the Lakers! What a great game!" "It sure was great, Jim. Now this is a crucial point in Rodman's career because...." Mulder zoned out. The game was over too soon, and it would be a good four hours until he could finally get to sleep. There was no use going out, either, since he had to be into work bright and early at seven a.m. to talk to Skinner about some case or ot her. Lazily, he reached for the remote control, wondering if there was anything else on the air besides the post-game show. THE APARTMENT OF DANA SCULLY, 8:34 P.M. ANNAPOLIS, MARYLAND Stepping out of the shower, Dana grabbed a towel and turned the radio down. She stood for a few moments, absorbing the steam and sweet fragrance, inhaling and closing her eyes. Then she opened them and stared at the mirror. LOSER! she thought. Good old no-date Dana. Not that she was anxious to hit the singles scene again after that Ed Jerse-tatto-and-near-incineration experience. "Why?" she asked, as if anyone would answer. Through the crack she'd left open in the door, she saw the blank, do rmant, idiotic face of her TV. She sighed, mourning her life. Then she went into her room, threw on some sweats, and plopped down on the couch. MULDER'S APT., 8:38 P.M. "Hank, I am going to participate in the Texas state Boggle championship whether you like it or not!" Peggy Hill drawled. "But, Peg--" Flip. NBC showed some police drama. Flip. ABC had commercials, but it was so pathetic anyway, he didn't even stop to see which one. CBS News? Maybe. "Well, Dan, now that Ken Starr has this new evidence against President Clinton, it's possible that Monica Lewinsky will be subpoenaed to testify on Kathleen Willey's behalf..." "What's the frequency, Kenneth?!" Mulder shouted, now at Stage Two of a boredom-induced coma. SCULLY'S PLACE, 8:42 P.M. Desperate for actual substance, Scully accidentally changed the channel to MTV. "Welcome back to Beach MTV, where we will kick off with our first video of the day, our most requested groove, the Brandy and Monica duet, before returning to our 96-hour marathon of the Real World." Scully made a not-so-subtle jerking-off gesture. "Int ermittently we'll run some classic Road Rules episodes, including the one where they get lost. Somewhere down the line expect some Eve 6 and Semisonic." "Oh, Jesus," she said, and flipped the channel quickly. MULDER'S PLACE, 8:49 P.M. "Does it get any better than this??!!" Mulder whispered between clenched teeth. Sweat had formed on his brow, coursing down his face in tense rivulets. He was watching the Carpenters special on VH-1. "Calling occupants of interplanetary craft," he sang, a maniacal smile pasted on his gleaming wet face. "What am I doing?!" he screamed as he shot out of his seat. He ran out of his apartment and got in the car. Revving up the engine, he drove away in a fury. SCULLY'S PLACE, 8:52 P.M. "Why don't you DIE. I like it when you DIE. Go to HELL. Kill yourself and make the world a better place." Scully was leaning dangerously close to the picture tube, sitting Indian-style on the floor. In fact, she couldn't even see to which dehumanizin g, I.Q.-sucking sitcom she was referring. Incidentally, it was 'The Naked Truth'. WAL-MART SUPERSTORE ALEXANDRIA, VIRGINIA 8:57 P.M. "One, please," he said to the third-shift hardware associate, who was more than a little worried for the mental health of this customer. He had that sick, homicidal gleam in his eye... "Uh, y-y-ye-yes sir, could you please specify which?" "That big mofo over there." He pointed to the largest axe on the left. Eager to please this customer and get the wacko as far away from him as possible, the associate complied quickly, unlocking the cabinet. "B-b-big project, sir?" he stuttered nervously. "An addition on your house, right?" "Subtraction." His expression was either totally deadpan or totally serious. The associate gulped with fear. "Son?" The associate jumped about ten feet. "Make it sharp." SCULLY'S PLACE, 9:00 P.M. There was no hope for Dana Scully. She lay twitching on her side, enveloped in a total trance. Behind her, the idiot box babbled on. she thought. Her elbow inadvertently struck the remote control, and for a fleeting moment, she could clear her mind enough to sit up. Some eerie, soothing rhythmic flute melody wafted from the television's speakers. she thought, whistling along . MULDER'S PLACE, 9:05 P.M. Quietly, oh-so-quietly, Mulder let the door to his apartment swing open. The TV flashed images at him, displaying 'MUTE' in the corner. Being very, very careful not to make any of the boards squeak, Mulder snuck across the carpet. "Alright, you bastard," he whispered hoarsely. "You've wasted enough of Fox Mulder's time." He raised the axe high over his head. Somehow, he stepped on the remote and TV unmuted. 'I think this is living proof of extraterrestrial intelligence,' a tall, dark man was saying. SCULLY'S PLACE, 9:23 P.M. Transfixed, Scully couldn't pull her eyes from the TV. Her expression was no longer vacant and suicidal. She sipped her coffee. 'There's got to be a scientific explanation for all this,' the redheaded chick was saying. Well-written, stupendous acting, great storylines, intriguing camera angles and skilled use of realistic/surrealistic content, photography, makeup, just about everything. Scully laughed to herself. MULDER'S PLACE, 9:40 P.M. He sat cross-legged on the floor, a postcard of tranquility. His past anger was set aside, and so was the Wal-Mart axe. He paid close, careful attention to the show. thought he. A smile crossed his lips and the glow of the picture tube cast light into his previously dulled eyes. Mulder transcended into nirvana as the plot grew more complex. He was glad he had caught it, or his TV would be various shards of plastic and glass on the floor right now. Smiling still, he gave his television a reassuring pat. The TV just crackled with static. -------------------------------------------------------- Moral: Seriously, how many times has the X-Files stopped you just as you were preparing to hurl your stupid TV out the window? I can't tell you. -CG (mentholithium@iname.com) ---------------------------------------------------