From: Rhyme Phile Date: 11 May 2004 16:34:48 -0700 Subject: xfc: NEW: "El Sketch Con Spike" (1 of 1) Source: atxc TITLE: "El Sketch Con Spike" (1 of 1) AUTHOR: RhymePhile E-MAIL: RhymePhile@hotmail.com RATING: PG-13 for innuendo, and the use of "ass", heh. CATEGORY: Humor!!, (A la Harvey Birdman's boss: ha *ha*!) sketch, parody, slight crossover with "Angel," but I'm only borrowing Spike here. SPOILERS: Watching Bad Blood might be good for old time's sake. And this was when Spike was still evil. Well, chipless, and soulless, but he'll always be evil to me, the cheeky little devil. And long live Bugs Bunny! In-jokes ahead, proceed with caution! DISTRIBUTION: Any ol' where, babeeee! I haven't written anything in like a hundred years! DISCLAIMER: Alex, Mulder, and Scully belong not to me, but to CC, 1013 Productions, and FOX. Spike belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy and FOX. But not to anyone else for a sixth season it seems, unfortunately. Bastiches! Go to http://www.savingangel.org. AUTHOR'S NOTE: Once again, a bit o' humor in sketch format. For those of you who don't know (or remember!) me, visit the RATales website to read more: http://www.iyam-fic.com/ratales/authorr.html (that link brings ya to the H authors) and look for moi, or visit my old-timey site at http://members.tripod.com/~RhymePhile SUMMARY: Leather-clad evil-doers, dusty work areas, Blondie Bear, and John Basedow's Six-Pack Abs, all in one lovely sketch! *** "El Sketch Con Spike" (1 of 1) *** We open late at night to that missed and mourned FBI basement, which is in its typical Mulder-state: crumpled-up papers that missed the trash are thrown about; chewed gum is stuck to the side of Mulder's phone formed into the shape of an alien; folders are in disarray; wet sunflower seed shells are drying on Mulder's desk; pencils are still stuck to the ceiling; files are strewn everywhere; a spaceship keychain is dangling from a clip magnet attached to Mulder's lamp; metallic gum wrappers in the shape of fans are lined up in a row across the spines of some books; gnarled pencils sit in a coffee mug; and a SpongeBob SquarePants sticker, circled in red surrounded by little exclamation points, is grinning from a file marked "Underwater Entities: Communication/Conversations With." Of course the Dynamic Duo is working late on some case. Mulder is hunched over his desk, which is covered in dust. Good ol' Scully, who hasn't changed a bit except for the fact that she finally cut off that annoying piece of hair that was always hanging in her face, because after a while she got pissed off with having to brush it out of her eyes all the damn time, is sitting in her usual spot, opposite Mulder's desk, with her feet up, because the gal is tired. I'm sure it's a bitch walking around in those giant heels all day. Of course, without them she'd be constantly talking into Mulder's nostrils, but that's another story. Mulder: (sliding his finger across his desk, noticing the dust) Y'know, I just noticed something... Scully: (barely paying attention) What would that be, O' Fearless Leader? Mulder: (wiping his finger on his pants) I feel like I've been asleep or something...like I sat down here a few years ago and never woke up. Scully: (writing her initials in the dust) Well, that would explain your un-Swiffer-like work area, Rip Van Winkle. Mulder: No, really, I feel like I've been on vacation...somewhere. (Looks at his watch) Ooh, did nine minutes pass just now? (thinking) Have any unexplained shifts in the time-space continuum occurred recently? Any strange wormholes pop open? Notice any swirly portals sucking me in? Anything? Scully: (ignoring him, cleaning her nails with his letter opener) Mulder: (nervously) Nine minutes haven't passed just now, have they? Scully: No, that was me ignoring you. (mumbling) I could go for a swirly portal right now... Mulder: I'm feeling (grimacing)...kinda....y'know... Scully: Depressed that your life hasn't turned out the way you imagined, and that lately you keep wondering if there is something else besides work, after which you go home to drown your sorrows in a bag of sour cream and onion Ruffles and fall asleep in your underwear while watching annoying drama-killing reality television, only to wake up again the next day in a pool of your own drool to face the drudgery of yet another descent into the great chasm of despair we call life? Mulder: No. Scully: Um, okay then. Constipated? Mulder: No. Scully: Sorry you never got around to getting your partner a desk? Mulder: I think I'm feeling lonely. Scully: I'm noting you didn't respond to the desk question. Mulder: (concentrating) It's not an alone-lonely. It's an unusually unusual lonely-type of unlonely kind of loneliness. Scully: Hypothetically, if I were to have a desk, you'd be forced to look at me sitting behind it *every day*, and thus, you wouldn't be lonely! You'd have to glance over and you'd notice my hypothetical shiny nameplate, as well as the hypothetical lovely blooming African violet that sat, brightening the office, on my hypothetical desk calendar. Mulder: (thinking, his hand on his chin) I think I'm lonely for the good ol' days...aliens, viruses, creepy things, occasional mad killers afoot... At that moment, ENTER, from stage left, KRYCEK and SPIKE. Both, of course, are leather-clad and looking deliciously evil. Picture evil, covered in crumbled-up Heath bar, and then dipped in hot fudge, slathered in whipped cream, and drizzled with caramel. Add a cherry, too. Alex is wearing a light-green silk button-down collared shirt, ever the gentleman, with black jeans, boots, and his black leather jacket. Spike is also wearing black jeans and boots, and his floor-length leather coat sweeps after him. He has on his trademark blood-red collared shirt with a black T-shirt underneath, and his platinum-blonde hair makes quite an impression against his pale skin. It's not really necessary to know what they're wearing; I just thought I'd share. Krycek opens the door to the office with a Laverne & Shirley Squiggy-like hello and entrance. Krycek: Hel-lo!! Mulder and Scully look around as APPLAUSE erupts from offstage. Mulder: Krycek! Alex Krycek! Bad, bad, Alex Krycek! Scully, look, it's Krycek! Scully: (appreciatively) Looking. Noticing. Hmm, wardrobe. (sniffing) Cologne. Ooh, hair product. Mmmmm, muscles. Krycek: (lifting up his shirt to show off his chest) John Basedow's Six-Pack Abs. Working out. Scully: Imagining. Fantasizing...tingling! Mulder: Evil, dastardly Krycek, who is bursting into our office *again* with... Scully: (glancing at Spike) Someone who needs more sun block than I do. Krycek and Spike walk into the office. Spike pulls up a chair and straddles it, while Krycek hops up, seated, onto Mulder's desk and pats Scully's shoes. Krycek: Hiya Katie. What's shakin'? Mulder: (to Scully) Why does he always call you that? Scully: It's a devilishly complex, unfinished story. Krycek: Just stopped by for a little social call. I was in the neighborhood. Mulder: (rolling eyes) Yeah, right. Krycek: I was visiting someone. Mulder: Uh-huh. Krycek: I dropped by for tea. Mulder: (looking annoyed) Krycek: Okay, okay. I was in the neighborhood, visiting someone, on whom I *might* have been using thumb screws. That were wrapped with conductive wire. Attached to a car battery. But that's it! Spike: Tea was lovely, though. Scully: (giving her best come-hither grin at the sound of his accent) Spike, huh? Interesting name. Spike: (looking her up and down) Yeah, Spike. I'm good at...poking things. Hard and fast. And sometimes reallllly slow. Mulder: What the heck kind of name is Spike? Krycek: At least he's not named after a cute widdle forest animal, Foxy boy. Mulder: (pouting) Foxes have teeth. Spike: (to Krycek) This is the git you were telling me about? Krycek and Scully: (both answering) That's him. Spike: (eyeing Mulder) Betcha he's crunchy. Mulder: (proudly) I *have* done my part to save the rainforests... Spike: Not Birkenstock-granola-treehugger crunchy, you wanker. Mulder: Then what... Krycek: As in snapping vertebrae and bones crunchy, dumb-ass. (gesturing at Spike) Haven't you ever seen a vampire before? Mulder girly-shrieks and jumps behind his desk chair as Scully stares at Spike with a newfound sultry appreciation, licking her lips. Then Mulder picks up a pile of his wet sunflower seed shells and tosses them at Spike. Spike: (standing up and brushing off his coat) What the bloody hell? Mulder: Ha! Take that, demon spawn! With your obsessive-compulsive personality you can't resist picking them up! Ha *ha*! One by one, each individual seed must be found and carefully retrieved from the floor! You're compelled to do it! Spike: (sighing) And then I can kill you? Mulder: Yes!! (pausing) I mean, no! Scully: (to Spike) Would you like to kill him now or wait until you get home? Krycek: Kill him now, kill him now. Mulder: (to Krycek) You keep out of this. He doesn't have to kill me now. Spike: Well, bugger the seeds, (pointing to them all over the floor) 'cause I'm not pickin' 'em up. Mulder: (surprised) You're not? How come? Spike: Because I'm eee-vol, not obsessive-compulsive. (thinking) Okay, maybe I'm a bit homicidal. And fastidious, because a bloke's got to keep his looks up, but I'm certainly not obsessed about it. Mulder: But you're a vampire. Scully: (dreamily) He's also charmingly British and leather-clad. ALL turn to look at her. Scully: Oops, did I say that out loud? I'm just going to reset my internal monologue button back to mute here, sorry. Spike: (to Mulder) And what does being a vampire have to do with you tossing spit-laden shells at me? Scully: He's weird like that. (brightly, to Spike) You should kill him! Mulder: Vampires have a compulsive need to pick things up, or tie shoelaces, or that sort of stuff. Spike: We suck blood, too. Scully: (googly-eyed) Yeah...suck. Spike: (to Mulder) What were you going to do when I bent over to pick up the shells? Scully: (helping) Get killed? Mulder: I dunno, try and get the drop on you? Scully: (checking out Spike's ass) Perhaps you should bend over anyway and test that theory. Y'know, in the name of science. Did I mention I was a doctor? A sciencey doctor? Who knows science? Krycek: More like drop your gun, and then run screaming like a girl. (Krycek and Scully both crack up) Mulder: Guns can't hurt vampires. You need to pound a stake into their hearts. Scully: Mmmm, steak. Heh heh, you said pound. Spike: Don't worry, I'm not going to bite you. Mulder: Well, that's a relief... Spike: Yeah, I may just kill you instead. Mulder: ...and that's slightly disconcerting. Krycek: For a surprisingly reasonable sum I'd be happy to remove your body without *too* much external damage. I'm not counting out swift kicks to the head or appendages snapping off on the way up the stairs, however. Mulder: Um, Scully, did you want to help out here? Scully: Nah, I'm sure hauling your carcass is a one-person job. Besides, (pointing to her shoes) look at my dreamy "Buxums'' from Steve Madden's spring collection. Leather pumps and body fluids are sworn enemies! Spike: "Buxums,'' huh? Nice. Four-inch silver stiletto heel with leather ankle strap. Ever see the "Bad Boy'' or "Bite"? They're the dog's bollocks, in my honest opinion. Scully: Boots don't really go with my work ensembles, unfortunately. More of a weekend thing. I like the brushed silver heel on the "Bad Boy,'' though. Spike: You ever check out the faux snakeskin look on the "Kaylee"? The heel is a little shorter, but... Mulder: Do you two mind??! Spike: Whoo, sorry there, mate. What was I saying? Krycek: You were talking about dog balls. Scully: That was after the death threats. Krycek: Right, my bad. Mulder: Scully, I meant if you wanted to help out here and *protect* me! Scully: Okay, okay...as usual, Scully to the rescue. Alex... Krycek: Yo. Scully: There will be no kicking the head of Mulder's dead body. Mulder: (whining) Sculleeeeee! Scully: Sheesh, all right, whiner. Mulder: (exhaling heavily) Thank you. Scully: (to Krycek) So why did you really drop by, my Green-Eyed Devil? Spike: (to Krycek) You're a demon? Krycek: It's an expression. Scully: More of a nickname. Actually, it came to me while Alex and I were in the front seat of his Cadillac, where I had one leg around the headrest, and the other thrust into the car headliner... Mulder: Oh my God, I think I'm going to be sick... Scully: Just make sure you miss my Steve Madden's. Vomit is also bad for the leather, y'know. Spike: (to Scully) You and Lefty have a history then. Scully: You mean Alex? "Lefty.'' That's cute. Hmm, well, some of our positions were historically accurate, according to the Kama Sutra. Mulder: (hands on his ears) La la laaaa! I'm not listening! I'm not listening! Spike: (to Krycek) I thought you said she'd be up for it. Scully and Mulder: (together, with Mulder's hands still over his ears) Up for what? Krycek: (to Spike) Well, you should ask her. Scully and Mulder: (together) Ask her what? Spike: (embarassed) Lefty here said he knew this bird that might enjoy a night out, since she didn't get out much, and she had a thing for... Mulder: A thing? A thing?! You never told me you had a thing! OhmyGod, whyyyyy am I always the last to find about people having things?! Okay, maybe it was because I was gone for like a season and a half, and that most of the time I was too self-absorbed in my own problems, but still... Spike: That she had a thing for bad boys. Mulder: Oh. Scully: Although there are *some* things I have that haven't gotten much use lately. Mulder: Like what sort of....oh. Ahh. Eww. Krycek: (helping Scully on with her coat) So we're going to show Katie here a good time. Scully: I like good times. I also like being the filling in a Russian and British sammich. Whoo hoo, meaty! Mulder: And what am I? Scully: (thinking) I guess you're like the pickle. On the side. Spike: (to Scully) Not in any hurry to get home, are you, love? We're headed back to L.A. Mulder: L.A.? Krycek: (standing up and walking toward the door) Yeah, the L.A. in California, where the sun is warm and bright. Spike: (with his arm around Scully) And incendiary, so I try to stay out of it. Scully: Me, too. Oh man, I'm like a lobster when I get out in the sun. Terrible. Spike: I tend to get a bit more...ashen. Krycek: (to Scully) He can sleep during the day and we can hit the beach. Spike: And then Lefty can sleep and we can party. Mulder: How come no one ever comes to get me? Why is it always Scully? Scully: Perhaps you need to work out more. Spike: That might help. Krycek: Six-pack abs are lady-killers, buddy, boy, lemme tell ya. Spike: (to Scully) The boys like 'em, too. Krycek: (to Spike) Y'know, *just* because I posed for those photos *once*... Mulder: What am I supposed to do? Scully: You could always clean... Spike: Go on a murderous rampage? Krycek: Watch porn? Mulder: They all sound nice, but to take my mind off of worrying about Scully... Scully: (patting Spike's ass) Dude, I'm good. Mulder: I think I'll get back to what I've been doing for the past two years... Scully: Not cleaning? Spike: Not rampaging murderously? Krycek: Watching porn? Mulder: I think I'll take a nap. *** -- Exeunt -- Adieu RhymePhile Comments appreciated, dusty or not.