From: Scully4946@aol.com
Date: Sun, 3 Jun 2001 15:51:23 EDT
Subject: Bumps on the Ceiling
Source: direct

FBI Headquarters
1:53 p.m.

Special Agent Dana Scully was leaning way back in her leather chair , 
transfixed on the numerous, amazing bumps on the ceiling above. Then she was 
pulled away from her observation when she heard a horrid-sounding crack.
"Oh, crap," Scully muttered as the chair broke into many pieces and she laid 
sprawled out on the floor........unconscious.

2:31 p.m.

Fox Mulder burst into a fit of laughter when he saw his unconscious partner 
with the mutilated particles of what used to be a chair. "Serves her right," 
he thought. "I've told her over and over... oh well. Wonder where she left 
her purse. Running low on cash." Then he hit the speed dial for the hospital.

Xena Mercy Hospital
2:57 p.m.

"Hi Lucy!" Mulder greeted a nurse.
"Hello Agent Mulder!" another nurse greeted him.
"Oh, hi Kerri!" He answered back.
The greetings went on and on like this for so long that Mulder forgot why he 
was there until he saw Scully sprawled out on the floor once again. "Man, I 
really got to stop dropping her like that," he though to himself.
"So, Agent Mulder," the doctor said. "What's wrong this time?"
"Oh, just found her unconscious. Who know why."
"Oh thank goodness. Thought it might be another killer bee or something. Come 
along."

4:26 p.m.
Scully woke up with a jump (which really hurt because she was attached to an 
I.V.). "Not again!" she mumbled in despair. "Man, my insurance company is 
going to start getting really ticked off if I keep coming here. Oh, too many 
times......" But her mid-thought was cut off when Mulder and a dozen Hispanic 
men in huge sombreros barged into the room and started singing, "Kumbia my 
lord!" in Spanish. "Mulder! What is this?" Scully demanded.
"Hey, looks like it worked! Good job men," Mulder said. "you see, Scully. In 
ancient Greece, when a king was passed out from an unknown cause, they 
believed that singing a song with special meaning was an enhancem......"
"Oh, nevermind! I don't want to know," Scully said, exasperated. "Now who's 
going to clean up this mess?"
It was then that Mulder realized the hue mass of debris left from the 
oversized sombreros.
"I will clean up this mess!" a weak little voice (which was trying to sound 
manly) said from the window. Mulder and Scully turned to see and embarrassed 
Quailman. "Uh....sorry. Wrong show. Come, Quaildog!" Then Quailman and his 
dog took a giant leap out of the window and instead of heroically flying away 
into the sunset, he fell with a sickening crash. "Confoundate cape!" they 
heard him screaming from the sidewalk.
"Now that was interesting," Mulder stated.

Scully's hospital room
2:14 a.m.

A dark, bulky figure is rummaging around Scully's room with a faint image of 
a tank labeled "laughing gas".

8:52 a.m.

"Hey Mulder baby! What's up with the smiling chickens?" a delirious Scully 
was yelling as she laughed uncontrollably.
"Now that is definitely the weirdest greeting I have ever been given," Mulder 
told the doctor as he entered the room. "What's the matter with her?"
"It looks to me like she's inhaled a large quantity of laughing gas, but 
we'll have to run some tests to be absolutely positive."
"No! Not the tests! They were meant for animals only! 
Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!!!!!!!!!!" Scully was now laughing so hard that she fell 
off the bed with a loud thud. Laughing like a maniac, she yelled, "Trust me! 
That was really painful, Dr. Frankenstein! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!!!!!"
"Darnit! I wish I had my video camera!" Mulder said regretfully.
Now then, what happened is that Scully was given a large dose of sleeping 
pills that almost killed her, but as long as she lived, who cares about the 
technicality? The pills finally got her to stop ranting about pink bunnies 
coming to colonize the planet. Also, an incredibly minor and inconsequential 
detail, Mulder proposed to Scully, but it turned out that it was only a clone 
of Scully and he could never gather up enough courage to propose to the real 
one. It kind of sucks, but deal with it because I am the author and whatever 
I say goes!

The moral of this story is to never, I repeat never go out on Main Street and 
scream at construction workers as they are trying to do their work. As you 
can see by this redeeming story, it really ticks them off.