From: "The Goudess" Date: Mon, 25 Jun 2001 19:28:15 -0500 Subject: Final Fantasy X (Parts 1-4 and Parts 5-7) Source: direct Title: Final Fantasy X (That's pronounced 'ex.' You know, like the letter.) Part I (What Women Want. Guess that could include Scully.) Author: The Goudess E-Mail: queequeg01@excite.com Classification: Crossover/Humor (Final Fantasy VI, VII, and VIII) Keywords: None Spoilers: Not really. Disclaimer: If you recognize it and feel inclined to throw a hissy-fit, it's probably not mine. Rating: R (Actually, it isn't, but I'll get a bigger audience this way, even if it may just be some guy...or guy-ette... scanning for hot and heavy love scenes.) Summary: Stuff happens. X X X X X Mmkay. Cue theme music: (Woo-woo-doo-woo-doooo...) (Baaaaum.) ::Final Fantasy X:: X X X X X It was a dark and foreboding night. Well, actually, it was a bright and sunny morning, but a person could give or take the whole ominous thing if they wanted to. Mulder's apartment, however, was gloomy as it always was...the shades were drawn, and his droopy-faced-presence was enough to dampen most anything. "Eeek! Mulder, you're all wet!" "Didn't you read the first paragraph?!" Mulder exclaimed in response, as he stood dripping and towel-clad in his open front door. "The author-lady just went rambling on about how I..." He took a moment for the...ack, 'humor-pause', and went on with an exaggerated wink. "...DAMPEN the atmosphere." Scully, who was considerably more clothed than he was, took this moment to slap her forehead in disgust. Mulder looked around in order to see if anyone got his joke. Even the author ignored him at this point, although she arguably was the cause for this brutal battering of literature. Nevertheless, Mulder simply hiked up his towel and gave Scully a strange look. "Yeeeesss?" He finally said in a drawn-out voice. "Don't 'yeeeesss' me." Scully retorted, putting her hands on her hips. "I'm fully inclined to 'yeeesss' you, Scully. You're standing at my front door." "That's right -- you called me twenty minutes ago and told me to get over here, remember?" Mulder put on an expression that plainly said 'oops'. "Oops." "And now you're greeting me in nothing but a bath towel!" Scully continued in her irritable way. "You pull me out of bed, don't tell me what's going on, and then bother to take a relaxing bath and 'yeeeeesss' me at the door when I finally arrive! I haven't even had my morning coffee yet! And what is that thing sticking up from under your towel -- don't tell me that's..." "It is," Mulder replied. Scully covered her eyes."Mulder!" "What? You have a problem with this? It's a very useful tool for a guy to have, you know." "But Mulder! Do you know what hairdryers -do-?! You're going to get split ends!" "Really?" Mulder pulled out his nifty metallic-pink hairdryer and inspected it carefully. "I did not know that. But don't worry, I'm not done with my bath yet -- I'll air dry, if it's that important to you." "Mulder... why are you carrying around a hairdryer if you haven't finished with your bath yet?" Scully peeked from between her fingers and looked about, before finally dropping her hands to her sides. "For an experiment." Mulder replied in his I'm-Better-Than-God-Voice. "Mulder!" Scully cried, but he was already off on his dripping way, dampening the carpet around him all Mulder-Like. "You aren't thinking about bringing that into the tub with you, are you? Mulder! Come here!" "Ahem." A Painfully-Serious-Looking-Guy said. Mulder and Scully both paused to look at him. "What are you doing in the middle of my apartment," Mulder asked him indignantly. "I'm this story's Content-Advisor." The Painfully-Serious-Looking-Guy replied, before Importantly turning himself so that he was facing the reader in a stiff and characteristically Serious way. "And I need to make a point that electricity and water simply do not mix." Mulder and Scully exchanged a glance. "Mulder and Scully, as well as the other semi-respective characters of this pathetic attempt at a story are fictional creations, and therefore would not be effected as a normal person such as you, the reader, would. In short, do not try this at home." The Content-Advisor continued. "You wouldn't want to let yourself be influenced by a pitiful home-written fan-fiction, anyway. There are more productive ways to spend one's time -- simple crafts, such as beadwork, can be a sufficient way of expressing your creativity and adding a little beauty to this violent and--" "Okay, okay..." Mulder ushered the Content-Advisor out the door. "We get the picture." "But--" The Content-Advisor tried to squeeze himself back in, despite Mulder's equally intense shove against the door between them. Finally the Content-Advisor was shut out with a squeak and something that sounded very quite like it may have been a touch of profanity. Mulder dusted off his hands and walked over to Scully. "Anyway." "Anyway." "Yeah..." Mulder scratched the side of his head. "What was I mad at you about again?" From outside came the distinct sound of the Content-Advisor clearing his throat. "Oh, yes. You were doing something stupid." "Indeed I was." Mulder replied. "Shall we?" "Let's shall." Mulder erupted into a fit of Mulder-ish whinings as he broke into a towel-flapping run toward the bathroom. "Scullieee!" "Mulder, you aren't planning on sharing your bath with that thing, are you?!" Scully cried in return as she stomped angrily after him. They came to a halt at the open bathroom door. Sitting in Mulder's bubbly tub were Byers, Langly and Frohike -- all nude, and all with scrub-brushes. "Hello...Hello...HELLO! Hello!" They said in a Three-Stooges like manner. Scully squeaked. "Nevermind. I'd rather envision you bathing with the hairdryer." Langly trimmed his foam-beard and said in his serious technical-voice. "I see that the test-subject has arrived right on time." "Huh?" Scully was going from disturbed to a much-less pleasant violent form of terror. "Heh-Heh." Mulder gave Langly a piercing look and steered her around in the direction of his toilet's fuzzy pink seat. Scully went for his throat and hissed in her trademark Demonic Guttural Growl. "Explain. Now." "Nnngaack." Mulder wasn't doing a very good job, with his neck being crushed by her grip and all. "Don't worry Scully," Frohike said instead. Scully, through her haze of fury, tried not to notice the bubble-foam bra that was formed with help from his chest hair. "You just have to sit there -- Mulder just wants to try and read your mind." "I like Mulder's explanation better." Scully said, shaking her partner around angrily. "Braaack!" Mulder gagged. "But Scully!" Langly said. "It's science. And not only science, but -professional- science." He paused. "A little to the left, Byers... aaah, that's the spot." Byers continued to scrub Langly's back, donning a poofy bathing cap and necktie. Scully narrowed her eyes. Mulder, somehow, wrested himself from her grip. "Yeah. Science. You see, we're going to do this experiment." He held up his hairdryer then, displaying it. "To see if we can read your mind." "Wait..." Scully said. "You're telling me that dropping a hairdryer into the bathtub with you is going to give you some sort of psychic power." "Hey, Mel Gibson did it." Mulder said indignantly. Scully pulled a fistful of hair from her head. "I should have guessed. Mulder, mark this as the end of your VCR." "You wouldn't -dare-." Mulder said in an aghast hush. Scully crossed her arms over her chest. Mulder meeped. "Hey, it's possible," Langly said. "I mean this IS a Mel Gibson movie we're talking about." Scully raised her eyebrow sharply. Mulder meeped. "'What Women Want' was a message, Scully!" Byers continued. "It was an open door for possibility!" Frohike continued. "You see," Langly explained for the sake of explanation, "In the movie Mel Gibson got an electric shock and discovered that he could hear what women thought." "Hence the title of the movie." Byers said. "And he dealt with all these interesting and potentially-funny situations in which he could read these ladies minds..." "And he kinda built up character, turned from a manipulative womanizer into a respectful guy and got the girl at the end." "But that doesn't matter as much as the potentially funny situations." Langly said. "And the girl at the end." Frohike added. "Meep!" Mulder said. "You guys, giving yourselves an electric shock is NOT going to get you an avenue into women's minds." "Ooh.." Frohike said. "But wouldn't it be wooonderful if it did?" The Lone Gunmen sighed dreamily. "Meep!" Scully had enough. She planted her palms into Mulder's shoulder blades and pushed him toward the tub. "Yea! She's cooperating!" Langly said gleefully. "Meep." Mulder splashed into the tub. "I wonder what avid sexual fantasies Scully has," Frohike said with glazed, thankful eyes. Another heavy group sigh. Scully grit her teeth. "Where's that hairdryer?" X X X X X "Is everything in the clear?" Langly tried to wipe the foam from his glasses while holding onto the edges of the tub like a toboggan in the same beat. "All clear, Scully?" Mulder asked. Scully grit her jawbone and held the hairdryer like a firearm. "She looks ready to me, Mulder." Frohike said. Byers swallowed nervously and tugged at his drenched necktie. "Okay!" Langly said. "Countdown at Ten, Nine, Eight!" "Wait!" Mulder cried. "I need my ski-goggles!" "It's too late, Mulder!" Frohike cried. "You'll have to forget them!" "Six!" Langly continued. "Five, Four, Three!" "Nooo!" Mulder clawed at the side of the tub dramatically. Scully just kinda watched them from clutter around spastically where she was standing with the hairdryer. "Scully! By the sink!" Mulder leaned to jab a soapy finger toward the counter, where a pair of yellow-tinted ski goggles lie like a Holy Grail. "Two!" Langly said. Scully rolled her eyes and slowly made her way over to the goggles, despite Mulder's mad urgings. "One and three-quarters!" Langly said. Scully tucked the hairdryer under one arm and picked up the goggles with her free hand. "One and two-quarters!" "That's 'one and a half,' you nitwit!" Byers cried, clinging to the bathtub. "Who made you the technical expert?" Langly pushed up his glasses angrily. Scully headed back toward the bathtub. "Who taught you math?" Byers retorted. Mulder was still desperately trying to keep up the tension. "Huuurrry Sculllieeee!" He droned in a deep, slow voice. "I'll have you know that -I- know more than you!" "Nuh-uh! You're just a--Hey, my tie!" Langly was trying to strangle Byers with his own necktie. Byers, in return, grabbed a few locks of dirty blonde hair and tugged angrily. "Scullliiie...!" Mulder managed to utter above all of this. "Here. Here they are. Just take them." Scully stood over the tub and shifted the goggles in her hands in order to extend them to him. It was then, however, when Langly, with a high-pitched squeal of fury, threw up his arms in preparation to give Byers an Atomic Wet Willie. "Now, I stress again..." The Overly-Serious-Content-Advisor had appeared again. Scully's eyes went very wide as Langly knocked the hairdryer out from her arm. It tumbled down, down in the direction of where Mulder's lap would be under the water, and she felt her grip on the ski-goggles increase as Mulder's did the same where he held them from the other side. "Now look what you did." Frohike sighed. "Eee!" Scully cried. The room erupted into a blaring white. Almost as white, in fact, as the screen that these words are written upon -- go ahead, stare a while and get into the mood. But this does go away, eventually, and it would be best to stop blinding yourself after that point. "Ahem." Langly cleared his throat. Sorry. Anyway, the light eventually cleared, fading into the bathroom scene that had been present just moments before. Langly and Byers sat stiffly and wide-eyed, Byers still tugging Langly's head to one side by his hair, and Frohike was holding a charred hair-dryer in hands. He looked blankly to his right, and then his left... and then to the right again. Mulder and Scully were gone. "So... who's up for a Duke Nukem death-match on the Playstation?" He finally asked. TO BE CONTINUED.... End Part 1/7 X X X X X ::Final Fantasy X:: X X X X X "Aaaughh." Mulder groaned. He was laying out on a wide expanse of green, his head toward the sky. Blinking once, and then again, he spit out charred... Well, whatever that ash had once been, he certainly hoped that it hadn't been a vital part of him. Everything was bright. Too bright. Even the grass was an annoying pastel shade. Mulder tried to lift a hand, and failed. The second time was successful, however, and he brushed his wiry hair back from his forehead. Wincing, and then batting his eyes, he lifted his head on his neck. Damn. It felt as if it were filled with lead. Perhaps it was. Hey, that would have been cool. He could, like... hit stuff like in that one movie when... Anyway. It was about then when Mulder noticed a strange little blot by his foot. "Eeek!" He cried, before shuffling back into a seated position and bumping rump-first into a mountain range. That, of course, was an oddity in itself, but it was not this that he had noticed, on account that his foot was nowhere near his rump. Seriously, people. No, at his foot was a cottage. Two cottages, actually, three at best. However, at his seated position he could almost see over the roofs. They were that small. Mulder gazed at them blankly, and then looked over one shoulder. Green. Iris-burning green. Where was he? "Scully?" Mulder finally called out. "Langly? Frohike? Byers? Scully? Sculliie?" "God damn motha'skinny-ass is speakin' some freaky-damn-strange-language, Beefa." A deep male voice said from his left all of a sudden, and Mulder looked over in that direction with wide eyes. Before him was a Popeye-armed square hunk of black shapes in the form of an angry-eyed man. "What-choo lookin' at, foo?" The guy Ebonic-ized furiously. "You ain't ever seen a goddamn black man before. Shit-flakes!" "Quiet, Damnit. You're scaring him." Mulder shifted his disk-plate eyes over to the source of the second voice, and found himself face-to-face with a heaving chest with a head and a pair of legs attached. The woman cocked her hips and looked at him with Anime-like red-tinted eyes, and tossed her ponytail over one shoulder. Did anyone mention the breasts yet? There they were, under a much-too-small and obviously tailored to her...endowments...white tank top. Mulder ogled, which happened to not be a good idea, for he felt a firm thwack at the back of his head. "Watch-ass the-ass goddamn-ass merchandise-ass, motha-stinker." The black man put his hands to his hips, and Mulder then noticed that a pixilated gun of some sort was manifested into his enormous forearm. "I shoulda cut-ya into goddamn pieces, jess sitting here on yer ass-ish ass." "Damnit, be quiet!" The woman cried, shaking her finger at him. She tottered on her long legs and looked down at Mulder curiously. Mulder, however, could only look over his shoulder and take a peek at the busty shadow behind him. That was cut short by a growl from the man to his left. "Who are you guys?" Mulder asked, cringing a little. "My name is Beefa." The woman said, bouncing a tad and tossing her hair. "Beefa Grade-ay." "Why in the hell are you talkin' to this goddamn guy? We're supposed to get ta the freakin' scary-creepy place and kick some ass. Ass, I say! Ass! You can't kick it if you're sittin' on it!" "And this is Damnit." Beefa sighed. "Good! We've got the freakin' introductions goin, so lets just go! Screw this motha sideways, I've got ass to kick!" Damnit started shifting his stubby legs around in demonstration, Tae-bo-ing the air in front of him. Mulder shifted away worriedly. "Stand up, why don't you? Let us get a look." Beefa said, obviously unaware of the seizure her companion was having. Mulder coughed and motioned to him, but Damnit only glared menacingly when he did so and simply continued to twitch at his own leisure. Hence, Mulder shifted and dropped up to his feet. Beefa's eyes widened and she looked him up and down with a look that was a little disconcerting. Mulder tugged his towel around his waist self-consciously. "Man! You is skinny, boy!" Damnit cursed. "How -old- are you?" Beefa exclaimed. Mulder rubbed his toe in the green ground. Suddenly, everything twisted and warped onto itself. Beefa gasped and Damnit swore. Mulder only cried out fear-induced nonsense. When the world stopped spinning they were standing in a row of three, and across from them was an enormous and very peevish looking... Bunny-rabbit. Coming out of a head of lettuce. Make that two of them. "Uh-oh!" Beefa said. "They're rabbits." Mulder said. Damnit shifted into a battle-ready position. Mulder stared at him, then at the rabbit, which was blinking and rocking, and then to Beefa, who stepped back into an offensive just a few moments afterward. Mulder simply held his towel. There was a long pause. "Well?" Mulder asked. "Aren't you going to... you know?" He motioned with his free hand toward the opponent. "Beat up the bunny?" "Hold on! The timer bar hasn't gone off yet." Beefa replied irritably "Rabid-slash!" Damnit cried out painfully and gripped his arm, before straightening again. The rabbit had blinked again, this time causing a flash to hit the man on his other side. Mulder twisted his face. "Can you heal him?" Beefa cried. "Heal him?" Mulder asked incredulously. "The bunny just flashed at him." "Aaagh!" Damnit cried. "Damn it." "Huh?" The black man looked up from his arm. "No, I mean the curse-word." Beefa said. "Now I have to waste a turn on an antidote." Mulder looked at the long space between them and the rabbit. Neither party had crossed or went near it. Damnit suddenly shifted forward one step, and no more. He turned red and then let out a rip-roar of bullets at the rabbit, which flashed again and exploded. Literally. Bits of shrapnel went flying by his head, and Mulder ducked with wide eyes. The other bunny continued rocking back and forth. "Yea!" Damnit cried, and stepped back into line before hugging his arm again. "Antidote!" Beefa cried, stepping forward and then back again. Damnit flashed, and then straightened. He was as good as new. Another long pause went by. Mulder tapped his foot impatiently. Flash, snap. "Another rabid-slash! Aaagh!" Damnit hugged his arm again and buckled. "You guys are nuts." Mulder said, and walked off. X X X X X Meanwhile, in the village of Schmillige: "I KNOW that I'm at Schmillige!" Scully roared. "You tell me that every time I try to talk to you! Can't you say anything ELSE?!" "Welcome to the Village of Schmillage. We are skilled weapons makers and are positioned just in front of the silver mines of Schines." The villager said, before continuing to walk his circle around a poorly-designed shrubbery arrangement. Scully clenched her teeth and pulled at her hair. It was spiked and wild from the shock, and she fit in quite nicely there. The whole coming out in clumps thing was also a nice effect. She had discarded her overcoat and had entered the village in trousers and a blouse -- barraged by a bout of "Hello sirs." She wasn't quite sure if they could say anything else, and never found out. Scully wiped some bits of Village Greeters off from her sleeve and looked around for the Shrub Guy. He had passed her again, and she clenched her fists to circle after him. "Hey! Hey you! Answer me!" Naturally, there was silence...No, wait...music in the background? It was charming at first, but by then Scully was rearing to take out an orchestra. But first... "You! Hey! Damn it." Unable to bring up or maintain much of a speed while stomping, Scully finally stopped trailing him around that tight circle and simply stood, staring and waiting for him to come to her. And come he did, walking into her and... well, walking. Scully slapped her forehead with her free hand, and tried to ease him back with the other. Up and down his little feet went. Insane. As of then, he didn't acknowledge her. "Hey." Scully said. It wasn't a particularly nice 'hey,' despite the fact that heys were quite popular in the nice, friendly category. But this was Scully, and at her tone the music in the background missed a tense beat. The Shrub Guy snapped to attention. "Welcome to the Village of Schmillage. We are skilled weapons makers an--" "Aaagh!" Scully cried. "...and are positioned just in front of the silver mines of shrines." "Good, good. I'm glad. But I don't care about mines -- I'm looking for my partner. Is there, I don't know, a guy who talks about that kind of stuff all the time around here? Maybe walking around a... gee, I don't know, tree or something?" "Welcome to the Village of Schmillage..." X X X X X Meanwhile, again, on the Plains: "Look, you guys," Mulder whined. "You killed like, twenty bunny rabbits already. Do you -have- to do the yippie-hurray-happy-happy-victory dance -every- single time?" Damnit started twitching and spasming again. Beefa held him back. "Donchoo be mockin th' goddamn yippy-hurray-happy-happy-victory-dance, you skinny-ass..." "Sheesh," Mulder said, rolling his eyes a little. "I didn't know that the yippie-hurray-happy-happy-victory-dance was so important to you guys." Damnit frothed under Beefa's arms. "But couldn't we... you know, pick this up? I mean, I know that the bunny rabbits are -very- dangerous and all, but..." "Hey, maybe if you'd help us a little, rather than just walk off whenever we start fighting." Mulder rolled his eyes and adjusted his towel-loincloth. Beefa watched him do this and sighed, putting her hands on her hips and bouncing a little where she stood. "Look, we have a long way to go -- We need to get to the train station in Dullit, and quick." "Quickly," Mulder corrected, ever so nonchalant. "Why I auuta," Damnit twitched and spasmed again, but like a well-trained dog he waited until Beefa took hold before running in place in attempt to tackle Mulder. "Talkin to us like we ain't got no brains or somethin', like he's all hell-high and hell-mighty!" "Touch-y." Mulder said. X X X X X "Look," Scully growled. "I do NOT want to stay a night in your inn." "Suit yourself, good-bye." The innkeeper said from behind his desk. Scully, having gone through this a number of times already, searched feverously for away around to the man so that she could strangle him. Of course, just as she had noticed before, there was nothing. The little sucker was pretty well barricaded, and for good reason. Nostrils flaring, she pounded her fist on the desk and cried. "I just need to ask you one question!" "That'll be 100 mil for the night, please." "One hundred million for a room?! That's insane!" "Sorry, you do not have enough mil." "Oh, I see where this is going," Scully said, and she went to the pocket of her slacks irritably. "This is a sick game that you play, all of you. Is this how you treat everyone that comes by?" She pulled out a twenty, charred at the edges, and glared at him. "Welcome to Schminn Inn, in the Village of Schmillage." Schully--I mean, Scully, waved her hand in impatient little circles, waiting for him to get on with it. "Would you like a room?" "No," Scully said pointedly, and before he could tell her to get off she slammed the twenty onto the countertop and snapped, "I have a few questions, wink-wink. Maybe now you have time to answer them. Wink." Despite her almost sing-song tone, the glare was brutal. The innkeeper looked down at the twenty, and after a long pause said, "...Tightwad." "Wha?" Scully blanched, shocked. Of course, she wasn't one to get shocked for long -- not when she could have been angry instead. And, with the resolve of a grizzly bear she tried climbing up onto the desk while pulling her sleeves up at the same time, and stumbling she growled, "Why I ought-a..." Of course, climbing a barricade and putting one's hands on one's sleeves instead of using them for support wasn't such a wise idea. Scully managed to get to a corner, felt her balance drop, and then thumped to the floor on her back with a... well, thump. She winced, opened her eyes, and found herself face to face with a wild-haired boy. "Hey," He grinned. Scully's hand shot up around his collar and jerked, bringing forth a satisfying gaack. The boy flailed his arms about wildly. "Act like a broken record and I will show you the meaning of 'broken,' you understand?" Wide-eyed, the boy nodded. Staring intently at him, Scully loosened her grip ever so slightly. "Good. We're on the right foot." "But you aren't even -on- your feet." "Nevermind that!" "Gaack!" X X X X X "Guyyyysss..." Mulder whined. "What kinda drawled out lingo is that dumbass foo tryin to spout outta himself, now?" "Guys, come ooonnn." "And I'm not a guy, you know," Beefa said pointedly. "Trust me," Mulder took a moment to reply, fantasizing a little, "I know." "Hell! You don't know nothin'!" "But guuuys," Mulder continued. "Can't I share your tent with you? C'mon, it's getting..." Mulder looked up at the blaring, never-changing blue sky. "Well, it's getting... um... Guuuuys..." "Listen up, foo, you dinna touch one of them fiend-assed bunny rabbits earlier, and now ya got hell ta pay, ya hear?" The miniature green tent jostled and shook, bulging at one end where Damnit was undoubtedly having one of his fits... again. "I'm kinda with him on that one," Beefa's voice admitted from inside. "Guuuys..." "Damn it! Quiet yourself the hell down, or I'll come out an' rip your scrawny ass body in half sideways. And doncha think that I won't, ah hell! We'll make a scrawny-ass-bunny-lover-sleeping-bag outta ya!" Mulder, taking that as a tactful 'no,' heaved a soft sigh and plopped down onto the blazing green ground and hugged his legs to his chest. His frizzled and spiked hair danced in the wind with the scent of ash, and his towel-loincloth snagged uncomfortably, no matter how he sat. Shivering a little, he huddled into himself... and waited. "Waited?! Who're you kidding? End it already!" Mulder cried. But no, something much, much worse was beginning to spawn, enough to send a dull pang of terror through Mulder's bare chest. Yes, it was coming, and it was coming clear. Yes, it was a. . . . . .TO BE CONTINUED. "Ah, Damn." Mulder said. "Don't take mah name in vain, skinny-boy!" End Part 2/7 X X X X X ::Final Fantasy X:: X X X X X "I get to be Commando Duke!" "You're ALWAYS Commando Duke! Why don't you let someone else be Commando Duke for a change?!" "Oh, shut up, Frohike. You were Commando Duke last time!" "Was not!" "Was too!" "Not!" "Too!" Langly bopped Frohike on the top of the head with his Playstation controller. "You know that Commando Duke is the most wicked and kick-ass of ALL the Dukes. That includes Toga Duke, Gladiator Duke, and even the infamous Red Duke." Frohike sneered and rubbed his wound. "Point being?" "A little thing like you playing something at Commando Duke's caliber would be laughable," Langly said indignantly, crossing his arms over his chest and lifting his prominent nose into the air, glasses sliding. "Hey! I played Commando Duke last time, and I royally smited you!" Frohike cried. "Ha!" Langly cried victoriously, flying up and jabbing his controller in the air. "So you DO admit it! It's MY turn! Ha! Ha-haaa!" X X X X X Meanwhile, in the Village of Schmillage: "So you haven't seen him anywhere?" Scully asked tiredly. "No, sorry. I would have remembered if I did. Could you let go of me, now? I'm having trouble breathing." Scully, having lost herself in her thoughts, did not move or reply. And, swallowed by the silence and then the dopey village-music-theme, they stood two-by-two outside the inn. The boy sighed, shifted, looked about, and then shifted again. "What's that on your belt?" He finally asked. Scully, who had maintained a strong hold on his neck throughout the entire trip back to the tight village streets, looked down and answered, "My gun. A firearm. We all carry them." "Gun?" "You shoot things with it. It causes damage. The thing's really dangerous, don't touch it." "A dangerous weapon? Then why didn't you use that to take me hostage?" "Take you hostage!?" Enraged at this, Scully throttled him around by his throat. "Holding a kid at gunpoint?! Arrgh! What do you think I am, violent?!" X X X X X And on the Plains: "Sheesh, that was quick," Mulder said. Beefa, who was stretching and exiting the tent after Damnit, paused a moment to glorify her bulging endowments before languidly putting her arms back to her sides and cocking her hips. "Huh?" "Your nap, or whatever. You like, went in there and came right out again. Did you even sleep?" "I'm refreshed," Beefa said, a little annoyed at this. "And one more thing-Aaack!" Damnit had taken Mulder by his neck, and lifted him right off his feet... well, just about. He had to bend his knees a little. Beefa put her hands on her hips and went to the burly black man's side. "Damnit and I also had a little... discussion." "Damn straight, damn it. You're goddamn lucky she talked me outta rolling ya up into soma that goddamn sushi-shit and eatin' ya, foo." Damnit growled, going into one of his spasms and sending Mulder a-jolt. "Eating me? The rolling part I get, but isn't that kinda... I don't know, -harsh-?" Mulder asked, bobbing by his neck quite nicely. Beefa gave him a strange look. "Sheesh, you aren't even scared, are you?" "Oh, yeah, a little." Mulder admitted. "I'm just pretty used to this kind of treatment." X X X X X Scully, who had stopped strangling the poor and now pitiful-looking wild-haired boy, set her arms across her chest and demanded, "Who are you, kid?" Eying her and rubbing his neck, the boy said indignantly, "Mundane. Mundane Tribal. And I'm NOT a kid." Ooh. Daring to cross Scully on that one. But the little guy seemed quite set on himself, and pointedly set his bared arms across his front in silent reflection of the woman. At that Scully got her first good look at him: oversized blue pants, an equally oversized belt which had to be folded over in front and still hang low, a skimpy blue vest... was that a bow around his neck? Brown gloves. And around his wrists, she saw, were wide cuffs without a shirt. Insane! His low hairline swelled into a fountain of gold hair, wild and unruly. They eyed each-other. "What are you, then?" Mundane set his jaw slack and replied haughtily. "I'm a mercenary. Out to seek my own gains, and adventure, adventure, adventure!" Up went a fist, shaking triumphantly. Scully, unimpressed, nodded. "Great. I'm going to go talk to the guy circling the shrubbery again, okay?" X X X X X "God, Mulder doesn't have any good food in his freezer," Byers complained. "Check under the ice-cube tray?" "What possibly could be hidden under that?" Langly shrugged. "I dunno. There may be a couple frozen M&Ms there or something." "Nope. Nothing. Smells funny, though." "Maybe it's because we've been standing here with the door open for the last half hour." "Maybe. Hey! Lasagna!" "Byers, that is NOT lasagna." "What do you mean, that's not lasagna? What else could it be--Ooh. That can't be good." X X X X X On the Plains: "Rule number one," Beefa said. "Numba one, foo!" Damnit repeated, still holding Mulder in the air. He swung his legs a little, boredly. "If you're going to say with us, you need to fight." "Fight you?" "The bunnies. And the snakes, and the birds that don't fly. Dragons, mages, turtles..." Beefa rattled on and on, to the point where Mulder's mind started to wander. Damnit grit his teeth and shook him around a little. This must have been the indication that she had finished. Mulder, adjusting the man's fingers as if they were a collar, managed a shrug. "Sure, sure." "Number two," "Numba two, foo." "I can understand her just fin-aaackaak!" "Number two," Beefa repeated. "Don't ask stupid questions." "Like?" Mulder asked. Beefa glared. Damnit popped a couple of tendons. Mulder figured that anything with a question mark tacked on would apply. He twiddled his toes and shifted his hips for a loin-cloth test. "Third," Beefa said. "Dat's three." "Third is that you are second to me and Damnit." "Which one of you stands first? Wouldn't that make me third to you guys?" "Remember Rule Two?" Beefa asked. "Throttle him a bit, will you Damnit?" Mulder heaved a sigh, was throttled. You know the drill. "You are second to us. If you are going to tag along, everything we say goes. You get it? Well, it doesn't matter if you get it. We are always right, you are always wrong. We tell you to jump, you ask which body part we want you to land on." "It's like being home again," Mulder said. Finding this acceptable, Beefa went on. "Fourth... Man, get yourself a TAN!" "You is white, foo!" "Yes," Mulder said, "Most guys on FOX are." "And sheesh, you're like a larvae or something!" Beefa ranted. "When was the last time you ATE?" "Hell, you is skinny! Eat some goddamn meat, fore ya blow away! Shit! Ya look like a chick who ain't got no breasts! Nice legs an' everythin'!" Mulder, admiring himself for a moment, struck a brief pose where he dangled. Beefa pursed her lips and cocked her hips to and fro. "To Dullit, then?" "Hey!" Mulder said quickly. "Traveling? I thought we were getting some food." X X X X X "Pizza rolls, everyone!" "Woo-hoo!" "They better not be those vegetable ones. They make me break out in hives." "They all have vegetables in them, Frohike." "Nuh-uh!" Frohike objected. Byers adjusted his pink apron and shifted the steaming baking tray in his oven-mitted hands. "The package said Pepperoni." "Mmm. Mulder has good taste." Frohike said, grabbing at some like a starving little knome and nibbling delightedly. "They're all the same!" Langly said. "What, you're an expert on pizza rolls, now?" Frohike sneered. "Speaking of Mulder..." Byers said. "Woah!" Frohike cried. "I almost forgot! Byers has to play the winner! That's me! Me! In your FACE, Langly!" Langly sneered. "I call Commando Duke!" Byers said. X X X X X In the Village of Schmillage: "Smog Trite." Scully repeated incredulously. The wild-haired, gloved and vested man shouldered his enormous sword over one shoulder and nodded stiffly. Scully's mouth went tight. "Oo-kaay. Can you help me?" Shifting, scuffing his boots and dusting off the sides of his baggy blue pants, Smog stoically waited a few moments before answering her. "For a price." He finally said. "Oh. Gee. Imagine that." "You're being sarcastic," Smog said. "And you aren't very pretty. That's a bad combination." "You're ticking me off. That's a bad combination, too. If it were a combination, that is... Um. Damn. Listen, it's just plain -bad-." Scully growled, although she did self-consciously tuck a few clumps of hair back into place. They sprung right back into wild and electrified disarray. Smog's eyebrows danced sarcastically. They were the only part of his face that moved. "How much do you want?" Scully asked grudgingly. "I've only got a twenty." "Twenty mil?" Smog said, tapping his gigantic sword against his shoulder. "You've got to be kidding me. I may only be a mercenary--" She heaved a sigh. "-but I don't work for pocket lining, either." "Not MIL," Scully said. "Dollars." "What currency is that?" Scully slapped her forehead. "Look, you seem kind of strange to me, Lady. Dark, irritable..." "Don't push me." Scully hissed. "...has a wild temper." "You aren't the epitome of class yourself, Spikey." "It's Smog. Smog Trite." "Whatever." "Anyway, what I was getting at... Are you evil?" He asked this matter-of-factly. "Huh?" "You know, planning on taking over the world?" "The world." "I don't care, not really. You know, a cold-hearted mercenary that's only out for his own gains and a little adventure. That's how I am. But I've got to know... Curious, I guess." "No. I don't want to take over the world." Scully said, flatly. "I don't sense much conviction, there." "Do you want me to say it while taking an arm off with that sword of yours?" Smog's lips made a faint 'oh' shape. "Not out for the world, then? How about this continent?" "No." "This village?" "No." "This street?" "No." "That old shack at the edge of town?" "No." "Geez," Smog said, straightening a little and scratching his head. "I guess that means you aren't bent on world domination then, huh? Doesn't help me out much." "Congratulations, Sherlock." "It's Smog. Smog Trite." X X X X X "Let's see. Jet Moto 3, Tekken Tag Tournament..." "You shouldn't be digging through his stuff, Frohike." Langly said incredulously, as he closed the top drawer of the end table and sat back on the couch. "Ooh, Twisted Metal." "I get to be Grasshopper!" "No way! I'm always Grasshopper!" "Come on, you were the Grasshopper last time!" "You guys," Byers said. "Don't you think that we are... you know... forgetting something?" "I have forgotten that Frohike is a moron. And he cheats." "I do NOT cheat! You just suck!" Frohike exclaimed, jabbing a finger at him. "No, guys, I mean it." Byers said. "So do I." Langly said, twittering a little. Byers frowned. "I mean, what were we doing earlier today?" "Spying on the delicious girl across the street." "Doing a super-secret experiment." Langly and Byers looked at Frohike, who shrugged a little in response. "Be a little more specific the next time you ask something like that," He said, and then looked down at his Playstation controller idly. "Anyway..." Byers said. "Aren't we forgetting -someone-?" The doorbell rang. "Oh yeaaah!" Langly said, throwing his arms up. "The Chinese food delivery guy!" "Sheesh, how long had it been since we called?" Byers mused. "We have to axe the tip." "Hey-hey... No need to be stingy!" Frohike waved around a few bills. "It's Mulder's treat, after all!" ...TO BE CONTINUED. End Part 3/7 X X X X X ::Final Fantasy X:: X X X X X On the Plains: "So," Mulder said, trotting alongside his travel-mates and tugging at his towel-loincloth to keep it in line with his gait. "Where's this friend of yours?" Beefa adjusted her cleavage and Damnit curled his upper lip heavenward. The woman was the one who answered, nonchalant and peering at the green against blue horizon. "In Schmillage." "Oh." Mulder said. Silence. "So, are we there yet?" "Yo, looka 'round," Damnit belted. "Ya see any goddamn village? No. Shaddup." Mulder pursed his lips and fell silent. "How about now?" "No." "Now?" X X X X X In the Village of Schmillage: Scully turned in three small circles at the village cafe, trying not to cry or break something -- or both. "Isn't there a place where I can sit DOWN?!" She wailed. No one paid a speck of attention to her. She stomped a foot. Nothing. And, frumping miserably, she crossed her arms over her chest and frowned at everyone around her. "Excuse me...?" Someone said just then, from behind. Scully, glaring daggers, turned and looked over one shoulder. Behind her was a tall, lean, elegant looking man in black with a roughish head of hair and... ...a really big sword. "Are you alright, ma'am?" Glare. The young man nervously tugged at his collar with a black glove. "I... uh... maybe I should introduce myself. I'm Gall Lionyawn. I'm a-" "-A cold-hearted mercenary that's out for a little adventure." Scully fluttered her hand about impatiently. Gall's jaw dropped. "How did you guess..." X X X X X On the Plains: "Now?" "No." "Now?" "No." "Now?" "No?" A pause. "How about no-Aaaack!" X X X X X "Okay," Gall said. "You tag along with me. I'll show you the ropes, and we'll find someone to track your partner. Sound like a deal?" They were walking down the streets of Schmillage side bye side. The cheerful music blared to the point where Scully's ears rang, but Gall seemed quite indifferent. In fact, that was him in a nutshell. By their sides were rows upon rows of pixilated buildings, and with a sweep of shiny brown hair Gall looked from side to side quietly. "Deal." Scully said, but he hardly listened to her - no, he merely did a tight little turn in the left and started toward a little cottage. Scully's eyes narrowed and she followed him to the front door. "Hey, what are you doing?" "Huh?" "Do you live here?" "Of course not - I've never been to Schmillage before." Gall pushed inside. "Do you even -know- who lives here?" "Why?" There was a woman cooking at the stove, paying absolutely no attention to them. Gall went about his merry little way, going from shelf to shelf, lifting cups and figurines up here and there in order to peer under them curiously. He found a couple of coins in a ceramic jar and casually poured them into his hand to count them with the sweep of one finger. "Excuse me? What are you doing?" "What does it look like I'm doing?" Gall responded, casting her an upward glance through his downward spilling hair-fountain. "Just because these people are..." Scully cast a glance to the cooking lady. "...too stupid to defend themselves, or talk, or move outside of three motions or a straight line, deliver coherent thoughts, look different from each-other in any obvious or characteristic way..." Gall bobbed his head subtly, growing very quite bored, as Scully rattled on. "...Doesn't mean you have the right to barge into their houses and rob them." "I'm not robbing them," Gall replied indignantly. "I'm borrowing from them for a higher cause." Scully rolled her eyes. "What?!" Gall exclaimed. "What's the big deal?! Besides, I'd have to beat her up in order to -rob- her" Frumping and frowning, he shoved his coins into his pocket and shuffled toward the door without checking anywhere else. Scully, crossing her arms over her chest, followed him out. "...And it's called the 'mug' command, Lady." Gall added. Scully rolled her eyes. "Stop it!" Gall cried, covering his ears even thought that didn't exactly change the fact that he could still see her and all. "Is that all you can do? Geez!" X X X X X "Hey, look!" Into the little crack behind the television peered three pairs of eyes, two of which were smeared behind their glasses. Langly's greasy blonde hair fluttered down into the space like a rescue rope, and Frohike's hand followed. "It's too tight!" "Nuh-uh," Langly said against the entertainment center. "Your hands are just too fat." "Your -head- is too fat." Frohike retorted. "I'll have to agree," Byers said. "You're blocking out all of the light." "And when was the last time you washed your hair? It smells awful." "All the better to disgust you with," Langly sneered. "Let me go after it. -I- have small hands." "Feminine hands." "Small." "Girly." "There's nothing wrong with girls," Byers said nervously, peering about for the looming form of the Content Advisor, who had blissfully remained absent from this tale after his first appearance. "Move it, Frohike! I can't get my elbow in with your shoulder pressing into my arm!" "Well, I can't see!" "I never could see!" Byers snapped. "If you let me get it, we can -all- see it." "Humph." Frohike humphed. "Wait, wait...Ah..." Langly contorted his gangly form in order to reach down into the space, and through dust, cobwebs, and other various forms of potentially health-hazardous trash he felt the smooth casing of a square, video-game box shaped object. "Gee, I wonder what it is," Byers said. "It's a video game," Langly huffed. "No way!" "Yes way!" They mashed their heads together and peered down at the plastic case. "Final Fantasy," Frohike said. Overhead came an ominous, horror-movie chord and a crash of thunder. "Nifty." Said Langly. X X X X X Gall finished patting his pockets and adjusting his supplies where they were arranged in his coat and carrying belt thingie. Scully, very quite impatient, watched him do this, glanced at the village gate in front of which they were stationed, and then stared at him again. "How much have you got?" She finally asked. "Seventy-five potions, an echo screen, some fuel, zombie powder..." It would have seemed that Scully's eyebrow couldn't get any higher. It did. Each item on the list jacked it up a notch, and Gall looked to his fingers to better count off his wares. All Scully could see on him was his clothes, really, and prayed that there was a cure for insanity coming past his lips sometime soon. "Slow, aura stone, tortoise shell, phoenix down-Hey!" This was not a panicked-she's-going-medieval-hey. This was a hey-hey. "Hey!" Gall flapped his arms around. "What are you doing?!" "Don't ask -me-!" Scully's voice was smothered against the leather front of his jacket, as she had suddenly walked smack right into him and started pressing. He pushed at her, but she kept on rubbing at him. Scully, too frightened to be embarrassed or entirely put off, felt a surge of violence-and breathlessness, on account that she was inhaling the man's coat. But violence was foremost. Someone put her here, and they were going to pay. Pay hard. X X X X X "Stoppit, Frohike!" "What?!" "Let me take the controls, you ingrate!" "Ha! Yeah right! I found the game!" "Did not!" "Did too!" "Did sooo not!" "Did too, just like you ate the last of the Chinese!" "That wasn't me! And did not!" "Hey..." Byers said all of a sudden, as he pushed a finger up against the screen. "Do you guys know who that lady kinda looks like...?" Langly stopped his assault on Frohike and squinted his eyes to better peer at the characters on the television. Frohike did the same. That red hair, that charred blouse and slacks... A long, thoughtful, ominous pause thickly filled the air. "Oh-ho!" Frohike suddenly chortled. "Ooh," Langly said. "Make her rub on him some more!" X X X X X On the Plains: Songbirds trilled. Animated grass wove. Mulder shifted the enormous sock that had been balled in his mouth with his tongue and tried to frown. No luck. The bulge simply shifted and he gagged with a ~gnmph~. Damnit looked back over one shoulder, having been walking in front of him, and glared menacingly. Mulder would have swallowed, if the obstruction in his mouth hadn't absorbed all of the moisture on the throat. The real kicker was that Damnit was missing a sock. Mulder lifted a hand to wipe away a tear of self-pity, only to have it casually slapped down by Beefa, who was at his side. He made an indignant noise at her, got glared at by Damnit. Repeat the process. Eventually, Mulder simply crossed his arms over his chest and steamed for a while. No one paid much attention to him - which was the point, actually. However, just when their guard was down he reached up and plucked the sock out of his mouth by one end, only to declare: "Sheesh, nothing exciting has happened to us in like, two sections of this story. What's up with that?" "Aaah!" Beefa cried, as he haughtily moved to re-insert his sock. "Whatchoo doin'! Shit, sayin' things li' that makes bad things happen, foo!" Damnit took a swing at him, but Mulder was rescued from a potential bruise by a blurring and warping of everything around them. "Not the bunnies again," Mulder wailed. They found themselves standing in line again - but there were no bunnies. No, there was a giant snake-like dragon-creature with wings, antennae, and very, very, very unattractive looking teeth. Mulder's eyes boggled, and he scuttled backwards. Woo. He couldn't move. With a surge of panic Mulder turned and looked over one shoulder - miles of open space, just for him to run in. But no go. Terrified, he sprinted in place, but without luck. And then, as Beefa let loose a battle cry and darted forward to double-punch the creature---idiot, Mulder thought---a strong hand slammed down onto his shoulder and he was jerked around. "Rememba' rule numba one?" Damnit growled. Mulder didn't. So he thought for a moment or two. "Eelp!" He cried suddenly, as it came to him. "Good," Damnit said. "You're goin' afta me, skinny-ass." The creature hissed and coiled. Mulder, who had gone into a fetal-position in his place, watched as it snapped forward and dug its teeth into Damnit's neck, twisting and snapping with a tiny burst of flame from its lips as it darted back at it's distance - waiting patiently for a reaction. "Waaa!" Mulder cried. "Damn, that smarts!" Damnit rubbed his ache and let loose a wave of bullets from the gun at his wrist. "Waa!" Mulder cried. "Attack!" Beefa cried. Attack? Wha? -Attack!!- It was his turn! Mulder found himself springing into a standing position, and without much control he was running toward the creature, which waited patiently with that wicked little toothy grin on its face. Mulder, in a state of mindless panic, realized that he was either going to run right into the thing or... well, run right into the thing. At the spur of the moment, while in full forward sprint, Mulder unwound his towel and twisted it in a coil at his right hip. And then, as his feet skidded to a halt at a mere fraction from the enormous creature, he whipped it out - snapping the snake-dragon thingie right in the nose. It squeaked. Damnit slapped his forehead. Beefa blinked and gawked at Mulder's towel-less frame. He bashfully re-tucked his loincloth, darted back the way he came, and burst into flame. Yes, flame. Fire. Burning. Burst of Inferno. Pain. "Woo!" Damnit cried, adding a few curses for good measure. "Hey," Beefa said. "It's concentrating on him!" "He pissed it off!" Damnit exclaimed. Mulder groaned a little, as his already charred and warped body went up in another quick blaze. "Limit break!" Beefa cried joyfully, as her fists started to glow and she struck a figure-displaying pose. With a blast of light she attacked and barraged the monster with a series of punches and kicks. As she flew back in her place, the creature exploded. Cheerful victory music started blaring. "Agg... not the yippie-hurray-happy-happy-victory-dance agaaaain." Mulder groaned, as he mercifully slipped into dark unconsciousness. Beefa and Damnit boogied on. X X X X X They sat in a row in front of the glowing television, jaws agape. "Uh..." Frohike uhhed. "Who has the controller?" Langly asked. "I thought I gave it up to you, blockhead." Frohike said in a staring monotone. "Nuh-uh." Said Langly. "Byers?" Byers shook his head. Of course, they were all staring at the screen, and thus doing so was rather pointless... after a moment, he vocalized. "Nope." "I don't remember a guy in a bath towel." "It's Mulder, you clod!" "And that means..." "Yup. Scully. We all agreed that it was -Frohike- who was making her knock into the other characters and tree and that dog, right?" Langly said. "Guys," Byers said before another fight erupted. "Mulder and Scully are inside of the Playstation." "Duh." Langly said. "No, guys." Byers looked at them. "Mulder and Scully are -inside- of the Playstation." "You just said that," Langly informed him. "Let me rephrase that," Byers said. "Mulder and Scully are inside of the Playstation." "Oohh..." Langly droned, staring at the screen with shock. Frohike looked at the game, and then skeptically down at his empty box of Kung Pao Chicken. X X X X X The Plains Outside of Schmillage: The damnable music changed to something much more loud and annoying. Scully's eyes felt as if they were going to angrily burst in her head. But she held her ground, clenched her teeth, and followed Gall to wherever he was going. "Where are you going, anyway?" She asked. "I dunno." "Great. Wonderful. Way to be a guide." "Hey, I'm sorry!" Gall snapped. "It's not like there's this greenhouse where mercenaries grow written on the map, okay?" "...Gee, really? You mean there are people who -aren't- mercenaries around here?" Gall ignored her. "And we're going to have to walk around until we get lucky and find someone who can track down this partner of yours, okay?" "Fine." Scully said. "Fine." "Sheesh. I feel sorry for making that guy get back together with you," Gall muttered. "What was that?" Scully asked with a menacing gleam in her eye. Gall stammered and pointed at a figure that was conveniently ahead of them. "I said, gee, I feel sorry watching that guy getting his back splattered by a... Erm, what sounds like the word 'you' and won't hurt me?" "Look at that thing!" Scully cried. "Um, that doesn't rhyme with-Gaaak!" Scully had grabbed him by the collar in order to drag his head closer to hers, so that he could better get a glimpse at the enormous fanged plant-creature that was attacking a sadly familiar man with... ...a really big sword. "Turn around and walk away real fast," Scully said, as Gall grabbed her by a sleeve and dragged her back. "We have to help him," He said. "Gee, that really fits your cold-hearted mercenary image, you know." Gall actually had to pause and think about this for a moment. "Aaak," Scully groaned and started off toward the guy with Gall in tow. "Lets just get this over with." The earth span. Scully found herself standing between Gall and Smog, the latter looking very surprised. Gall gave him a little salute and pulled his really-big-sword out from nowhere. "Look, I'm a cold hearted--" Smog started. "Stop. Just stop. We know, and we don't care." Smog and Gall looked at each other, and shrugged. The giant green ten-armed plant-thing waved gleefully at them. Scully looked at the wide open space between them and the monster and frowned a little, scratching at the side of her head. "Can you fight?" Gall asked her, having noted the look in her eyes. "Can she -fight-?! What do you mean, can she fight?! You don't ask that kind of question when you're facing a giant green ten-armed plant-thing and it's her turn!" "It's -my- turn, ido..." Scully had suddenly up and moved. Both men, wide-eyed, watched her stalk across the field, whip out her gun, put it to the creature's head, and shoot. It exploded in a burst of flame, sending fiery red hair streaming behind her like a banner, her blouse a-flutter. Silence. Gall and Smog exchanged glances. The victory music blared. With a shrug, they started their yippie-hurray-happy-happy-victory-dan ce Scully turned, glared, and pointedly cocked her gun. Smog's arms dropped, and they stopped short. With that same cold stare she lifted her weapon into the air and fired. The music came to an abrupt halt. ... Choked in tense quiet, Gall and Smog swallowed nervously. X X X X X In Schmillage: "Shit-ass-damn..." It didn't sound good. Of course, it didn't sound coherent, either. Mulder gulped and clenched his hands between his knobby knees. It didn't look like good news was coming, although with Damnit it was hard to tell. "Well?" Beefa asked. They were outside the Inn. It was supposedly late evening, although the music was still cheery and the light bright as can be. "Yo, he's not here! We're... late." Damnit took that as an opportunity to slowly turn and glare menacingly at Mulder. Pointedly. Mulder gulped again and tried to shift and hide behind Beefa. "He must have gone on ahead," Beefa said. "He's probably heading to Dullit." "Damn!" Damnit cursed. "If any ass is kicked 'fo we get there, I'm gonna make it up double-time on tha' skinny-boy there." Mulder blanched. "Who, me?" Damnit nodded with a smug little grin on his face. ...Woo, Mulder thought blandly. "We may as well spend the night here." Beefa said. "It's getting late..." Mulder looked at the sunlit sky. "...We'll start fresh in the morning." "Fine." Eyeing Mulder still, Damnit turned and stalked stiffly toward the Inn, taking a moment to twitch for a moment before continuing on. Beefa followed, and Mulder played caboose. Finally, he thought. Rest at last. They were shown to their room, and Mulder bounded over to his bed with a skip in his step and a mouthful of glee. With a little twist he threw himself back on the mattress... nevermind the fact that it was poorly drawn. It was a bed, and he was finally able to sleep. Rest. Rest at last. He laid his head back on his arms and sighed dreamily. And, just as he was settling into sleep the lights dimmed, as if it were a gentle goodnight pat from the Gods. Some dreamy lullaby droned, and everything... ...lit up again. "Get yo lazy-ass outta bed, skinny-boy!" "Lets get going." Beefa added. "This is no time to be sleeping in." Huh? Mulder looked around the brightly glowing room. ...Ah, hell. ...TO BE CONTINUED. End Part 4/7 X X X X X ::Final Fantasy X:: X X X X X This is where the narrator babbles on about useless, pointless things that sound important. This is namely because she can't think of how to go on in the story, because she waited forever to continue from Part IV and just wants to get on to the stuff that will take place in Part VII or VIII or something. You know, the fun things that bring the story to the end. No such luck, though. We're still on Part IV. Anyway, now that everyone is feeling a great sense of sympathy... X X X X X Mulder and Scully, the nifty X-Files heroes that seem so very out of place in all of the Final Fantasy Fan Fiction Archives (that'd be the FFFFA...tee-hee) seem no closer to the end of their quest. Will they be stuck in a strange and foreign land, forced to do pointless and potentially-silly things for the rest of their lives? Or could it be, could it very well be that their friends in the real world will be able to devise a plan to save them, now that they have figured out what had happened to them in the first place. Wait? They didn't quite figure it out yet? Can't we just pretend tha-- Ah, pooh. X X X X X "Okay, if we just pry the screen off the television..." "Idiot!" Langly said. "You can't just pull the screen right off like that." "Nuh-uh!" Frohike retorted. "Let me get a crowbar, and I'll prove it!" "All you'll prove is that you're an idiot!" "Actually," Byers interjected. "Television screens are bulb-like, you'd just pull the whole thing out. It isn't just a piece of glass stuck to the front of a box." "Ha!" Langly cried triumphantly. "What does -he- know," Frohike snorted, jabbing a thumb in Byers' direction. The suited man huffed and ruffled his feathers... Erm, or at least he acted like it. He didn't have feathers or anything. "Whatever." Langly said. "I'm going to find a crowbar or screwdriver or fork or something," Byers said. "Spoken like a true man of science," Byers said bitterly. X X X X X In the Village of Schmillage: "I've got bad news," Beefa said. "It's not my fault!" Mulder said. "Actually, it is." Beefa tried crossing her arms over her chest, but they weren't quite long enough to get around her bosom. She put them on her hips instead and tapped her foot irritably. Damnit's nostrils were flaring like a rabid bull, and his shoulders twitch-twitched. "What is it?" The burly man asked. "Hell-damn-hell." He added, for good measure. "Well, I went to look into renting some Bloke-o-bos..." Mulder nodded as if he knew exactly what she was talking about. Damnit glared at him. "...And it turns out that we can't afford to pay for all three of us." Mulder gulped and tugged at... well, he didn't have a collar. "What's the bad news?" Damnit asked. "That is the bad news." Beefa replied. "Wha?" Damnit belted, going into seizure again. "Yo. This is tha perfect excuse to ditch this lazy-ass skinny-ass boy-ass. Ass." "Uh, hey." Mulder piped in. "Isn't this something that you -don't- say in front of me." "Quiet," Beefa said, as she turned her back to him in order to face Damnit-head on. She lowered her voice. Dumb, yeah, on account that Mulder was standing right behind them anyway. That's what happened when one's heads were made of pixels. "There's talk of a red-haired devil. It's something that the people have never seen before. They say it's invincible and evil and not-right at all..." "Bull." Damnit said. "Scully!" Mulder cried. Beefa rolled her eyes. "And Mulder, apparently, knows it. It was asking for it's stupid, naked 'partner.'" "I'm not naked!" Mulder cried. He was ignored. "Knows it? Ya mean, drinks goddamn -tea- wit it or somethin'? And ya want to take him -wit- us? Hell! No way!" Damnit cried. "He'll just attract it or somethin'..." He paused. "Hey, and excuse to kick it's ass. I'm game." "Game for what?" Mulder asked. "Well, yeah," Beefa said to Damnit. "But he may act as protection, too. Maybe it won't bother us, if we have him along. That's what I was thinking. We can't get distracted by anything, not even a red-haired devil.. We're already late in starting out to Dullit as it is." At this Damnit looked over at Mulder and glared menacingly. Mulder offered him a toothy, nervous smile and twiddled his fingers in a tense wave. Beefa sighed. "I'll go check into the Bloke-o-bos. Someone would have to ride double, I guess." Mulder shifted an inch closer to Beefa. "Watch him, will you?" She said to Damnit. "Make sure you're both ready when I get back." "Hell. Don't ya worry, Beefa. I'll keep his ass in line." Damnit took his gun-fist and pounded it into his palm in menacing demonstration. This wasn't the wisest thing for him to do, however, for the weapon went off and sent bits of Hand everywhere. He paused, blinked at the bloody stump, and dropped like a giant hunk of road-kill, complete with his tongue sticking out the side of his mouth and all four appendages in the air. "Geez. Not -again-." Beefa sighed. X X X X X On the Plains: "I don't care." "No, -I- don't care." "I don't care more." "Nuh-uh. I -so- don't care more than you." "Will you two just -stop- it?!" Scully exclaimed. "Geez, no wonder you travel alone." "Whatever." Gall said. "Yeah, whatever. " Smog added. "Way to not care." Gall said. "I don't." "That's what I said." "You were being sarcastic." "...What...Do you -care-?" "I -don't- care, as a matter of fact." "Well I don't care, either." "Good." "Good." "...Not that I care." X X X X X Byers stared into the living room from the doorway. Frohike was prying at the corner of the television with a salad fork. To his left was Langly, sitting Indian-style on the floor with his head cupped in one hand... Wriggling his nose and adjusting his glasses, he determinedly pushed the 'open' button on the Playstation, looked around the room, shut the machine again, and repeated the process. Open. Shut. Open. Shut. Open. Open. Shut. "Uh..." Byers said. "Maybe we should call for help--" "No!" They exclaimed irritably. "We've almost got it!" X X X X X In the Village of Schmillage: "Okay..." Beefa said. "Okay..." She'd been saying that for the last ten minutes. Damnit continued to lay unconscious in the center of the plaza, although his closed eyes did squint in a harsh glare every once and a while and his body twitched, as if he were dreaming... Mulder hoped that he would take his time in waking up. "...Okay..." "You can fix him?" Mulder asked. "...Okay." "That's a good start. How did you do it before?" "Okay. I mean, I found a healer." "Oh." Mulder looked around. Lady walking into a wall. Guy circling a bush. No brain surgeons there. "Well...." "Okaaay..." Damnit twitched, and the hand closest to Mulder's face clenched--Oh, wait! He didn't have any hands! Oh-ho! Mulder cheered silently to himself until he got smacked across the nose by the stump itself. He was knocked flat on his back with a little ~oomph~. "Ooh! Someone is in trouble!" A damsel-in-distress-y voice called. "Somebody SAVE him!" Both Mulder and Beefa looked over one shoulder... or rather, Beefa looked over her shoulder and Mulder sat up a little and glanced. Bounding toward them was a thin woman with dark hair and flashing, innocent eyes. She came to a skidding halt beside them, spread her arms, and wailed. "This is awful! Terrible! Awful, again! Horrible! Did I say awful, already!? Well, it is!" She paused and cocked her head. "...Well, at least he isn't cute." "Who are you?" Beefa snapped. "Me?" She put a finger to her chest and batted her eyes. "Yes, you." "I'm Flea-ona." She said, beaming. "I'm a happy-go-lucky, free-spirited girl who goes out against her normal, shut-in life in a mansion and adventures instead." Mulder, being the cutest and only conscious guy around at the time, suddenly came into her attention. Like a parasite, she latched onto his arm. "Aren't you going to SAVE him?" She asked, batting her eyelashes. "If he could have saved him, he would have done it already!" Beefa replied irritably. Mulder coughed. Damnit twitched and swung at him again. Mulder ducked it and gulped. "Of course I would have saved him. Nice Damnit." He patted the man's chest, avoided another blow. "Well," Flea-ona said, squeezing Mulder a little tighter and putting her cheek on his shoulder. "I guess we can... Um... Sheesh, I can't think of anything--" "...Okaay." Beefa added. "--Can't you guys... Geez, you guys suck at this." "...Okay." Mulder sighed. "Eek!" Flea-ona realized. "He's missing a hand!" "That's the problem." Mulder said. "Well, I could make a model hand. I'm pretty good at making models." Flea-ona unwound herself from Mulder enough to display a... Well, hunk of something. "Isn't it nice!" She exclaimed proudly. Mulder scratched the side of his head. "Look," Beefa said. "Don't you have someplace else to be? A babysitter to find?" "I'm 17." Flea-ona replied indignantly. "I'm in my prime, and a full adult. Take that." She paused. "...And he's right over there." Mulder and Beefa looked up. Approaching them was a blonde man in a trench coat. He caught sight of Flea-ona clinging to Mulder and sighed drearily. "Sorry, sorry..." He said, taking out a can of insect repellent and shaking it. "I lost sight of her for a moment. Off, Flea-ona! Get off him! Don't make me get out the water pistol!" Mulder was rapidly released as the girl scuttled back. The blonde man moved between them, gave her a look, and gave Mulder a few quick sprays. "Sorry, sorry..." "Who're you?" "Gee, adding enough characters," Beefa muttered. She was promptly hit across the head with a keyboard that seemingly appeared from nowhere. "Me?" The man asked. "Yes, you," Mulder sighed. "I'm Keebler Almasy." The man said. "I'm a wimpy cold hearted mercenary who will end up betraying you before the story is over. However, I have no credibility or threatening traits. It's sad and pathetic, really. Chances are I'll annoy you to death before I scare you. But hey, it's a living." Mulder bobbed his head. "Cool, cool. Can you help us?" Beefa rubbed her head and looked warily about. "SAVE them!" Flea-ona cried, as she made a bee-line toward Keebler and latched onto his leg. "Sure thing, toots." Keebler said. "Look, guys... If we can get his wound cleaned, we can just stick something in there to take the place of his hand." "Like a gun!" Beefa cried. "A blunt object." Keebler suggested. "One of my models!" Flea-ona cried. "Or cotton swabs," Mulder said. They all looked at him. "Hey, you guys aren't at constant risk of getting a butt-kicking, okay?" Mulder snapped. X X X X X Meanwhile: "Work-work-work-work-work-work-work!" Langly had gotten a hold of the fork and was rapidly beating the top of the Playstation with it. "Hey, I got the jumper cables hooked up." Byers said. "Jumper cables?" Frohike asked. "Work-work-work-work-work-work-work!" "Yeah." "...Uh..." "Work-work-work-work-work-work-work!" "Well," Byers explained. "All of the classic sci-fi movies use jumper cables, don't they?" "I dunno. Sure." Frohike said. "Work-work-work-work-work-work-work!" "Besides, it just looks cool." "Work-work-work-work-work-work-work!" "Hey now," Byers said. "Unclip that cable from Langly's belt, Frohike. For shame." "Work-work-work-work-work-work-work!" "Oh, c'mon, Byers!" Frohike whined. X X X X X On the Plains; "Whatever," Gall said. "I dunno," Smog countered. "Whatever." "I dunno." "Whatever." "I dunno." "Whatever!" "I dunno!" "What-EVER!" "I dunNO!" X X X X X In the Village of Schmillage: Damnit winced painfully, shifted on his back, and cursed. A lot. He had to make up for the lost time. Eventually, he groaned and opened his eyes. Staring back at him were four faces. He let out a girly-scream and scuttled backwards into a seated position. "Hell! Whachoo doin', tryin' ta scare th' piss outta me! Foo!" "Damnit!" Beefa cried, hugging him. "You're back!" After she drew back Keebler moved in, quickly spraying the man with the insect repellant. Flea-ona, who was making a move for him, pouted and whined. Damnit rubbed his head and cursed this-and-that. "What tha hell happened?! Hell!" "You shot your hand off again." Beefa said. "Wassit skinny-asses fault?" Damnit asked hopefully. "Sure." Beefa said. Mulder gulped. Luckily, Damnit had lifted his 'fixed' fist. His eyes bugged out and he brought it up to his eyes, which crossed at the closeness. "What tha... Damn! What tha hell is this, yo?!" "I made it!" Flea-ona exclaimed, raising her hand a little. Damnit looked at...whatever it was. "Are ya alright in tha head, lady?" He asked skeptically. Flea-ona blinked innocently. X X X X X On the Plains: "Whatever-Whatever-Whatever-Whatever!" "I-dunno-I-dunno-I-dunno-I-dunno-I-dunno!" X X X X X "Don't worry, you can trust me." Keebler said. He smiled ever-so-sweetly. "For some reason, I'm compelled to agree." Mulder said. "Hey, I'm all for it." "Damn-grr-damn-grr-damn." "And I'll pay for our Bloke-o-bos." Keebler added. "Hell, I like this foo!" Damnit clapped Keebler across the back. He gagged and fell over. Flea-ona, who was clinging to him, helped him up with an Amazing feat of Strength. "Yea!" She cried. "You SAVED them! You're a hero!" She squeezed him. "I'll love you forever-and-ever an-- Ooh, look at that guy! He's cute!" Keebler grabbed her by the tail of her shirt and sprayed the poor passer-by with his insect repellent. He cried out and clawed at his eyes. The group went on. "Anyway," Keebler said. "We'll come with you to Dullit. We were heading that way ourselves so that I could be around to screw you all over, actually. Imagine that." "What a coincidence," Mulder said. "We're so lucky." Beefa added. "I love you," Flea-ona said, letting her heels drag. X X X X X "Good one, Byers." Langly said. The trio sat in the darkness. There was only the light of the television, for the sake of the story and stuff. However, they paid no attention to the adventures of Mulder and Scully. They were all staring at each-other. Menacingly. "Hey," Byers snapped. "I didn't know I'd blow a fuse." "Blow a fuse?!" Frohike exclaimed. "The whole block is out!" "... Yeah, well... " Byers scratched his beard and looked around the room. "...You've gotta admit, that -is- kinda cool." Langly and Frohike looked at each other, shrugged, and agreed. X X X X X On the Plains: Gall and Smog sat on a log in the forest, side-by-side. Both were gashed and bruised, with their arms crossed stubbornly over their chests. Scully watched them from the rock she had found to rest herself upon and rolled her eyes with a little sigh. "Are we almost there?" She asked. "I dunno." Gall said hoarsely. "That's my line," Smog squeaked in equal blandness. "You lost control of your monotone first," Gall retorted tonelessly. "Hey!" Scully interjected, before another fight erupted. "Stop thinking about yourselves all the time and think about -me-, okay? I need to find someone to track my partner down." "We'll find him," Gall said. "Or her." Smog said. "There can be heartless, adventure-seeking female mercenaries, you know." "Like yourself?" Gall replied. "Hey!" Scully said. "Stoppit. Enough. You guys have been bickering all day... Can we just relax a little in peace? Is that so much to ask?" They both ~humphed~ and sulked where they sat. "So..." Smog coughed. He obviously didn't like the prospect of saying anything normal or friendly. "Tell me about these "Gawd-e-Don't Force-Me-To-Watch-em things." "The GFs?" Gall said, eyeing him warily. "Gawd-e-Don't Force-Me-To-Watch-ems are dangerous things. I'd show you one, but they shouldn't be used unless they absolutely have to be. They're only for very, very, very critical situations." He sounded very firm on this. "Oh." Smog said simply. "I don't care." "Me either." Gall retorted casually. Scully frowned and settled down on her rock. Suddenly, Gall's head lifted. Sharply. It sent a twang of panic down Scully's spine. "What? What is it?" She asked. Smog looked at him and lifted a blonde eyebrow. Gall quickly lifted a gloved finger to silence them. "Shhh..." He said, although that was quite stupid on account that he wanted it to be quiet and all. Scully and Smog looked warily from side to side. Gall took out his really big sword from where it had been hidden in his pocket or something. "...A monster..." He whispered. All three of them exchanged glances. To their left came a little rustle. All three of them shot their heads that way. A fallen leaf shifted and moved a little. Scully narrowed her eyes... And then--in a pinnacle of climatic build--a little furry head peeked out from beneath. A mouse. Smog blinked. "Darn little pests," Gall said, tucking his blade away. "Tell me about it," Smog agreed. But Gall wasn't listening -- he was rising to his feet and spreading his arms out powerfully. A light flared out from his body and he brought his sword--which had magically appeared from wherever he stuck it again--up in front of him horizontally. Suddenly, with a humming sound, he disappeared. Before Scully and Smog could let their jaws drop completely there came an enormous fissure in the earth. Up from it, in a circle of light, came a giant and hairy beast. It roared menacingly, and brought up an enormous ball of flame. You know, something around the size of Texas. They both zapped high up into the air, and with another deafening roar it curved its back and pounded its fists into the flame ball, sending it flying down toward the earth. The little mouse shifted out from under its leaf and sat up on its haunches, blinking its luminous black eyes curiously and cocking its head. It gave a little squeak, and was crushed by an enormous explosion that left a crater from Scully's feet to the Oceanside. The sky cleared, and Gall re-appeared. Oblivious to his charred and glaze-eyed companions, he brushed his hands together at the job well done and nodded satisfactorily to himself. Scully blinked and exhaled smoke. "...What?" Gall, who had turned around to find them staring blankly at him, asked. "What is it?" A tree-brach fell and shattered into ash. X X X X X In the Village of Schmillage: "They're giant chickens..." Mulder said. "So?" Keebler replied nonchalantly, as he saddled his mount. "They're giant chickens." "Your point being?" "We're riding around on giant chickens." "...And?" "They're chickens!" X X X X X "Okay, here goes." Byers clipped the jumper cables to the overhead light-bulb. "Flipping on battery." Langly said. "Check. Is the light on?" Byers looked down from the chair he was standing on under the bulb, and shook his head at him. "Nope." "Darn." "Try again." "Check. Is it on?" "Nope." "Darn." "One more time." "Check. Any luck?" "None." "Darn." "Hey, you guys," Frohike said from the living room doorway. "You try the light switch yet?" Langly and Byers exchanged glances. "It's crazy," Byers said. "But it just might work." X X X X X In the Village of Schmillage: "Chickens, man! CHICKENS!" "I know, I know! Will you just shut up already! ...TO BE CONTINUED. End Part 5/7 X X X X X ::Final Fantasy X:: X X X X X On the Plains: "Do you hear that?" Gall asked. "Not agaaain." Scully moaned. They had started out again a few hours earlier. However, at Gall's comment they came to an abrupt halt. Smog tapped his foot impatiently, but then perked up as well. "I hear it, too," He said. "What?" Scully asked. "What is--" And then she picked it up. Music. "...A theme." Both Gall and Smog sighed dreamily at this. Scully eyed them and cupped a hand around one ear. There, out from the sky, came the strumming of an electronic instrument. The tune sounded western. The Lone Ranger. Desperado. That kind of crud. Her eyebrow raised crookedly, and then she saw it. A man in a black ninja-like suit of armor was standing in front of them. Next to him was a dog that was about the size of Scully's foot. It lowered itself on its haunches and growled menacingly. Scully made a face and scratched the side of her head, before looking back at Smog and Gall again. Gall actually smiled a little and gave her a little thumbs up. "I..." The shadowy man said with much dramatic pause. Naturally, he spoke in a monotone just like everyone else. "Am the cold, the heartless, the crafty and the keen. I go wherever my please, and make my alliances only for money. However, even that is a tap-dancing-session on thin ice. I leave whenever I want, no matter whom I work for or what I get out of it. That is my way." Scully looked at her watch. "My name..." The shadow-guy said. "Is Blackie." "Blackie?" Scully exclaimed. "What?" Blackie asked firmly. "Well, nothing," Scully said. "It's just... Blackie? Come on. That's something you'd call a pony or a cat or something. Do you really tell your enemies this?" "This is my dog," Blackie continued casually, ignoring Scully's comments. "His name is Cuddles. He isn't as accepting as I am. Make fun of him, and there's no stopping him from tearing your throat out." Cuddles growled at her. Scully whistled under her breath and glanced back at Gall and Smog. They shrugged. X X X X X "Guys..." Langly said. "Yeah?" The guys said. "I'm running out of ideas." Byers put down his egg-beater and sighed. "I know. Me too." "...You know..." Frohike said. "Are Mulder and Scully -really- that important? I mean, it looks like they're having fun and everything--" "No!" Byers said. "Bad Frohike! Bad!" Frohike frowned and cowered a little. Langly sighed. "We've tried everything. Everything." "We got forks, knives, and telephones down... Have you hit the Playstation with a spoon yet?" "...Yeah." "A wooden one?" "Hey! It just might work!" Langly ran off to search the kitchen. X X X X X "Look... um... Blackie..." Scully said. "We need your help." Gall said. "Or at least she does. I'm a cold-hearted mercenary, I don't take help from anyone myself." "Me either." Smog piped up. "Uh-huh." Blackie said, circling them. "What does she need done?" "Go for it." Gall said to Scully. "I'm looking for my partner." "You want him dead?" "No." "Maimed?" "No." "Shook up a little?" "No! I just want you to find him." "Boring. I charge extra for boring jobs." Scully grit her teeth and glared at him. "How much do you want?" Cuddles growled menacingly. "Ten thousand mil." "Mil? Is that a sub-species of GIL?" Scully asked, glancing back at Smog and Gall, who were no help. "I don't care." Blackie said. "Neither do I." Gall and Smog said at the same time. Scully slapped her forehead. "I'll give you whatever you want." She said. "On second thought, I want that weapon," Blackie said, as he pointed to the gun in its holster. Scully clenched her teeth angrily and, after a long terse moment, nodded. "Fine." "Deal." Blackie said, as he jabbed a thumb in order to motion over her shoulder. "He's right there." Scully whirled around. Behind them were five giant chickens with riders. And there, at the far end with a big, ashamed frown on his face and picking at the feathers... was Mulder. Smog nodded, impressed. "Wow. He's good." X X X X X Stupid, icky chicken... Hey! It was Scully! Mulder cried for joy. X X X X X "Why are we doing that scene-switching thing," Scully asked irritably. "Everyone is in the same place now." ...Habit, I guess. X X X X X Anyway... "Scully!" "Mulder!" "Scully!" "That's the red-haired devil?" Beefa asked incredulously. "Wha? This issa lame-ass joke, yo!" Damnit said. "Guys!" Flea-ona exclaimed with much delight. Keebler heaved a sigh and dug around for his can of insect-repellant. Mulder leaped down from his Bloke-o-bo and did a little skippy-happy-dance. Damnit murmured something under his breath and also dismounted, followed by Beefa and the rest. Smog looked at them with something near relief. "Damn." Damnit said, before counting them all and announcing, "Nine-a us. That gives us all one-ninth of an ass ta kick. No way in hell am I only gettin' one-eight of an ass, dammit!" "Shh!" Beefa shhed. "Ass-kicking?" Blackie said. "I'm outta here." And, like the cold-hearted mercenary that he was, he high-tailed outta there with Cuddles yipping at his heels. Scully lifted a finger, paused, and shrugged. Looney. "One-eighth of an ass," Damnit continued. "No way in hell am I only gettin' only one-eighth of an--" "Quiet, Damnit!" Beefa said. Damnit shut his mouth. He still twitched a little, though. "Who're you guys?" Gall asked them. "Aaagh! No!" Scully cried. But she was too late: "I'm Keebler Almasy." Keebler said. "I'm a wimpy cold hearted mercenary who will end up betraying you before the story is over." Scully heaved an exasperated sigh and looked down at an invisible watch. "I'm Flea-ona." Flea-ona beamed, going for the seductive sway with her hands clasped behind her back. "I'm a happy-go-lucky, free-spirited girl who goes out against her normal, shut-in life in a mansion and adventures instead." "I don't giva damn about any of ya." Damnit said. "I'm Damnit, a cold-hearted mercenary out ta kick some ass! And guess what, foo, I'm tired-a waitin! If I don't kick some goddamn ass soon--" "I'm Beefa," Beefa bounced. "I'm a kick-boxing busty mercenary that works with Damnit... and a bartender! But that's not important right now. Did I mention busty?" Did she even need to? All eyes were on her. "I'm Gall Lionyawn," Gall started-- "A mercenary." Scully finished, before jabbing a finger at Smog. "Smog Trite. Mercenary. I'm Scully, that's Mulder! Okay? Was that so hard?" They all blinked at her. Keebler looked over his shoulder. Flea-ona wasn't there... she'd flown over to Smog, who was the closest male, and threw her arms around his waist. He shifted uncomfortably and arranged her a little as if she were a belt. Keebler crossed his arms over his chest. "Well, it was great meeting you all..." Scully said. "But..." She and Mulder exclaimed glances. "Now what?" Scully asked. "I don't know," Mulder admitted. "I was just trying to find you... I never thought about anything beyond that." He paused. "Nice hair, by the way, Bride-of-Frankenstein." Scully's arm casually shot out and she took him by the throat. "I missed you too," Mulder gagged. "Somebody SAVE him!" Flea-ona cried from where she was latched to Smog. "Yeah, you two. Break it up." Gall said irritably. Flea-ona looked over at him and met his eyes. A touch of panic filled Gall's irises as she started dragging Smog over to him by his waist. When they got close enough she did a flying parasitic leap and clung to his arm. Smog bolted and hid behind Damnit. "Yea!" She cried. "You SAVED him! You're a hero!" She squeezed Gall tightly. "I love you forever-and-ever-and-ever-and-ever!" "You jerk!" Keebler said. "You stole my girlfriend. I hate you. I'm going to throw a hissy fit and walk off in order to devise a plan to screw you over in a surprising turn of events now." He held up his can of insect-repellent. "And I'm taking -this- with me." "Nooo!" Gall cried. "Ta-ta." Keebler stalked off. "Hell! One-seventh offa ass each! I'll pound my goddamn-boot into the scary-bad-guy and be done already!" Damnit exclaimed angrily, seizure-ing all the while. Beefa sighed. "Well," Gall said, adjusting Flea-ona nervously. "I guess we may as well join you, even though there is absolutely no reason for me to do it. I'm a cold-hearte--" Scully, who still had Mulder's neck at the end of one fist, pointedly drew a finger across her throat. Gall gulped. "Anyway, I'll come along...Erm..." He looked down at Flea-ona. "I mean, we'll come along." "I love you!" Flea-ona exclaimed. "What's your name again?" Mulder re-tied his towel and shifted about under Scully's grip. She sighed and exchanged glances with him. "Dullit is that way," Smog said to them, pointing over his shoulder. "You can join us if you want." Beefa and Damnit, who were mouthing 'no' and shaking their heads, stopped abruptly when Scully looked over at them. Beefa rubbed her toe in the dust and whistled innocently at the sky, and Damnit simply twitched and snorted. She sighed. What did she expect... Finding Mulder would just bring her back? The two of them exchanged another glance. In their eyes was deep and mutual pity, melancholy, and kinship... Until, of course, Scully realized that it was Mulder's fault that they were stuck in that strange world with these people in the first place. She tightened her grip. Everyone cringed. X X X X X Langly dropped a charred pink hair-dryer onto the living room carpet. Byers and Frohike, who were sitting on it, gave the thing a glance and then looked curiously up at him. Langly nodded at them knowingly. "...Well?" Frohike asked. "Remember this?" Langly asked. They both paused. "It happened way back in Part One." "Ooh, oh yeaaah!" Byers chimed. "So, what about it?" Frohike asked. Langly plopped down in their little circle around the hair-dryer. "Okay, here goes -- for the sake of the plot, I think I've got it all figured out." "It's about time," Frohike said, getting promptly smacked with a keyboard from the sky. "Anyway," Langly said. "To recap: We tried doing an experiment based on a Mel Gibson movie. By giving ourselves a heavy electric shock, we hoped to somehow gain the ability to read women's minds. We tried to do this by dropping a hairdryer..." He took a moment to point at it. "...into the bath-tub with us." Byers and Frohike mechanically bobbed their heads at this. "Unfortunately, that's not what happened. Instead, Mulder and Scully disappeared." "Duh." Frohike said. "Now, who was holding the hairdryer...?" "...Scully." Byers answered. "And who was Scully making contact with...?" "Mulder." "Exactly. I think, for some crazy reason that we'll just pretend makes sense, that the electric current created by the hairdryer in the water sucked Mulder and Scully into the electric system... Which is hooked up to the Playstation. Somehow, they were pushed into the game." "But..." Byers said. "The game wasn't in the system, it was behind the--" Oddly, he suddenly went mute. ~Mmmphing~, he waved his hands about wildly. "Anyway," Langly said, ignoring the now-silent man beside them. "That's what happened to them." "Well, how do we get them back, then?" Frohike asked. "I don't know." Langly said. "Any ideas?" "... Well, we can try screwing with the electrical system." "Mmph!" Byers said. X X X X X In Dullit: They'd made it. They were there. Dullit -- just like the previous line says. Smog led them, with Beefa and Damnit right behind. Gall was next in line, with Flea-ona dragging herself behind him. Mulder and Scully were last. Scully sighed every few seconds, and Mulder rubbed his bruised neck. People eyed them tensely as they trooped toward the train station. "Here we are, foos." Damnit said proudly. "Keep yer asses quiet, yo. We're sneakin' onta this thing, an we don't need any goddamn trouble." "Why are we sneaking on?" Mulder asked. "'Cause we're gonna kick some ass, that's why!" Damnit exclaimed. "We're out to fight the evil-bad-guy at the scary place," Beefa added. "If we buy tickets, then we'll blow our cover." Mulder looked at them all -- a troop of burly, angry mercenary-types, two of which with really huge swords and one with a giant gun lodged into his fist. He whistled under his breath, rolled his eyes, and got in line to sneak onto the train. Gall was in front of the duo, and he took a while to get Flea-ona in the door, on account that she kept getting caught. "Just let go for a minute so I ca--aack, shift your hip--aack." "I love you! I love you!" Eventually, they were all on the train. Mulder and Scully sank into the seats along with the rest of them. "What's that on your other arm," Smog finally asked Damnit. It was a twisted, wiry thing with feathers glued onto it here and there. Damnit cursed and motioned to Flea-ona, who was sitting on the floor and clinging to Gall's leg. "Isn't it -obvious-." She said irritably. No one crossed her. "So... who're we fighting?" Mulder asked. "The bad guy." Beefa replied. "Blecch-aroth." Smog said angrily. The color began to fade. X X X X X Cue boring, depthless flashback: "Noo! Noo!" Smog cried. The silver-haired man shook his long tresses around and patted them to make sure they were straight and silky smooth. He then pulled out a really long sword and flashed it around. "Prepare to be barraged with bad special effects, Smog Trite." "You're evil!" Smog cried, as the black-clothed man's body started doing wacky, cheaply-made and headache-inducing contortions. "Evil! Evil! Evil!" "No..." Blecch-aroth said coldly. "I am not evil. I am... Well, okay, I'm evil. Muah-ha-ha-haa!" "Noo!" Smog cried, pulling out his really big sword and announcing. "I'm gonna fight you, now and prove to the audience that you are unstoppable!" "Ha! You can't beat me! I'm too powerful!" "Aaagh! You're right! I can't even move! But you just wait, Blecch-aroth! At the end of the game your powers will oddly be rapidly reduced and you will no longer be able to flashily kill huge monsters in one move!" "...Damn." Blecch-aroth said. X X X X X "Wow..." Gall said. Mulder, realizing that the flashback was over, stopped beating his head against the window and glanced bashfully about. Scully's eyes were rolling like a speedometer... or something like that. Smog nodded smugly and set his foot against the seat opposite of him. "Yup. That's Blecch-aroth." "He looked kinda girly, actually." Mulder said. "At least he's wearing clothes." Smog retorted. Mulder tugged at his bath-towel self-consciously. Suddenly, everything flashed red. "Not another flashback," Scully wailed. "No!" Beefa cried. "It's the alarm system! The sensors picked us up!" "There are bad-guy hunter sensors?" Mulder asked incredulously. The sound of a blaring and intensely annoying siren started going off, as the lights flickered and blinked on and off: "Panic. Panic. Bad-Guy-Hunters Present. Panic. Panic. Bad-Guy-Hunters Present." "Someone SAVE us!" Flea-ona cried. "Panic. Panic." "Oh, pooh." Damnit said. Everyone stopped in what they were doing and stared at him. Damnit blinked and shifted his eyes about. "Erm. I mean -- Oh, shit." "Ahh." A group nod. "What are we going to do?!" Beefa said. "SAVE me!" Everyone had leapt to their feet except for Gall, who had Flea-ona weighing him down. "What's going to happen when they catch us?" Mulder asked, pacing wildly. "Torture us." Beefa said. "Kill us." Cloud said. "Oh?" Mulder nodded to himself and looked around. "Probably make us watch Pauly Shore movies." Gall added. "Aiiie!" Mulder wailed and smacked into a wall like a caged animal. "We have to get out of here!" "Damn straight!" Damnit exclaimed. "I know! We'll jump!" Mulder said. "Mulder..." Scully started. "It's our only chance, Scully! We have to jump!" Mulder looked at his wrist. "We have exactly four minutes, Scully!" "Huh?" "Mulder," Beefa said. Mulder ran to the door and dug his fingers into its handle. With a groan he pulled it open. "Come on, everyone! The train is too fast, they'll never be able to stop and catch us!" Gall finally got himself up onto his feet and hobbled toward the rest of them, Flea-ona playing the perfect part of a ball-and-chain. Overhead the lights blinked and the sirens blared. The doors leading to the other sections of the train hissed as they sealed. "Damn it, yo! We're locked in this freakin' place!" "Help me with the door!" Mulder cried. "This is our only chance! Two minutes and forty-five seconds!" "Mulder!" Scully exclaimed. He ripped the door open and motioned toward the group, his towel flapping. "Hurry!" And, with everyone waiting tensely behind him, Mulder went back a few steps, twisted his torso, and ran right to the door -- opening his arms at the last minute in order to fly out of the train. "Mulder!" Beefa cried out over the alarms. "The train hasn't even started moving yet!" Mulder landed belly-first on the pavement of the loading deck with a plop. As a unit, everyone slapped their foreheads. ...TO BE CONTINUED. End Part 6/7 X X X X X ::Final Fantasy X:: X X X X X "Aaag..." Mulder cracked open his eyes to see Scully looking down at him. Beefa was nearby, frowning a little, and Damnit was slumped in a seated position against a wall. Gall was dragging Flea-ona around by his leg, trying to find an obstruction for her to get stuck to. Mulder groaned again and pushed himself up onto one elbow. "Where... Did... Did we escape?" "No." Scully said flatly. Mulder blinked. "You opened a door into the thick of the Dullit train station, and jumped from a stationary train right into a crowd of angry Dullit soldiers. Did I mention that you opened the door?" Beefa said. "And jumped." Scully added. "And got us all arrested?" Gall added from the other side of the dungeon. Flea-ona's bottom scrape-scraped against the floor as they moved. Damnit slammed... whatever that thing Flea-ona had stuck to his wrist... into the side of his gun-barrel. He glared menacingly at Mulder. "Skinny-ass bunny-lovin--" "The good news is," Smog said. "That they took us to the freaky-scary place." "In chains." Scully said. "Son of a bunny-lovin..." Damnit growled. Gall dragged Flea-ona over to the group. "What gets me," He said. "Is how we got caught so quickly." "I can help you with that." A voice said. Every head in the dungeon cell turned and looked outside the bars. There, in the hallway, stood Keebler. "He's going to SAVE us!" Flea-ona exclaimed happily. "'Fraid not, babe." Keebler said. Gall sighed as she re-tightened her hold around him. "I don't get it..." Smog said. "I screwed you guys over," Keebler said smugly. "I told the Dullit soldiers that you guys were going to take the train to the creepy-scary place." "You -what-?!" Gall exclaimed. "How dare you!" "Gee, I didn't see that coming..." Beefa mused. "What a shock!" Smog said. "And a surprising turn of events!" Said Mulder. Scully slapped her forehead. "Yup." Keebler said. "I'm one bad guy." "Oh... Oh yeah?!" Flea-ona cried from where she was clinging to Gall. "I bet Gall here could beat you into a pulp anytime!" She tugged at his shirt hem and nodded at him. Gall blanched and shook his head madly at her. Flea-ona, oblivious, went on. "I bet he could really kick your butt! Why are you mouthing 'no,' Gall? Crazy-loon! I love you anyway! I know you can SAVE us!" "Quiet! Quiet!" Keebler cried, throwing a little tempter-tantrum, complete with stomping feet and clenched fists. He squeezed his eyes shut. "This is harassment and I -don't- have to take this!" "C'mon," Smog piped in all of a sudden. "Fight Gall." "Yeah!" Beefa said. "Everyone is doing it." "...Really...?" Keebler asked. "It's the 'in' thing." Mulder said. "Well, okay." Keebler said. "But just Gall. I don't want any cheap stuff." Mulder caught hold of Scully just before she flew at him from between the bars. Gall, having realized that Flea-ona would have to free him in order to fight, nearly started to skip with joy. "Deal! I promise! Okay, I'm going out now!" "I love you!" Flea-ona cried. "Yeah, yeah." Gall slipped out of her hold and squeezed between the bars into the hallway beyond. Creepy-fight music began to play. Both men made sure they were at the correct distance and drew their gunblades. Keebler grinned evilly and kept his blade continually pointed at Gall. "You're so going to get it!" He said. "Go Gall!" Flea-ona bounced. Gall ran up to Keebler and slashed him down the front. He then darted back. A few minutes passed, and then Keebler rushed up and did the same to Gall. The process repeated. Beefa tapped her foot impatiently. "Psst... your Gawd-e-Don't Force-Me-To-Watch-em." Smog whispered. "What was that?" Keebler asked loudly as the hairy guy with the huge flaming ball was summoned and sent down to get medieval on him. Everyone in the cell winced and covered their eyes. When the flames and smoke cleared, Keebler was still there, gunblade pointing straight at Gall. "What the..." Scully said. "Ha!" Keebler cried. "I may be a wimp and about as intimidating as fly larvae, but I'm invincible!" Twenty minutes and six-hundred lame jokes rip-offed from the Black Knight in "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" later, and Gall was tiredly sending his flame-wielding Gawd-e-Don't Force-Me-To-Watch-em after Keebler again. The group locked in the jail cell watched boredly as the hairy-creature roared... again... and sent his flaming meteor down. "Ha! Tis but a flesh wound!" Keebler cried. Scully hit her head against the bars. Mulder, who had started wandering around aimlessly, came to the barred door in the far end of the cell. He put his hands on it and desperately tried pulling for the eightieth time. No luck. And then, suddenly, everyone around him gasped. Keebler had twitched and buckled. "...Finally." Scully said. And, again, Keebler straightened up again. "Aaagh!" Everyone groaned... Except for Gall. "Hey..." Beefa said. "Something's wrong." Gall, who had taken maybe three hits in the whole affair, was beginning to sway. His eyes were getting dark and droopy, and he was having trouble holding himself in position. Flea-ona clutched her hands to her chest. Damnit cursed. "Hey!" Mulder said. "...Oh my..." Smog said. "Keebler's... boring him to death!" "Hey!" Mulder said. "Don't loose, Gall!" Flea-ona cried. "Fight! Fight for me! I love you!" "Hey!" Mulder said. "WHAT?!" Everyone snapped irritably. Mulder put his hands on the door, and pushed. It creaked opened. Everyone's jaws dropped. "Heh." He laughed nervously. "It's even written right here on the handle. Silly us." Damnit shoved him against the frame and pushed out. "Jailbreak, foo!" Smog pushed out after him. Beefa hesitated, looked at Scully, and shrugged. They both made a bee-line out of the cell. Mulder was grabbed on the way, and dragged toward the exit to the dungeon. Flea-ona, however, remained behind... ready to cling to Gall at his victory... ...Or Keebler, if Gall got killed. She wasn't picky. X X X X X "Woo-hoo!" Damnit cried. "Ass, here I come!" "Upstairs," Beefa said. "Finally, I get to face Blecch-aroth." Smog said coldly. "Geez," Mulder said "What's the big deal about this Blecch-aroth guy, anyway? I mean, sure he's evil... but there are plenty of evil people in the world. You ever watch any season six X-Files episodes? Those writers were -heartless-, man." He shuddered. "Hey," Beefa said. "Watch it... Smog is sensitive about Blecch-aroth." Mulder glanced over at the spikey-haired man. And then, suddenly, the color began to fade into black-and white...again. "Demmit." Scully said. X X X X X Cue another boring, depthless flashback: "Muah-ha-ha." Blecch-aroth laughed evilly. Of course, this was because he was evil. "No!" Smog cried again, exactly as he had done in the last flashback. "Nooo!" "Yes!" Blecch-aroth replied, as he ran his really long sword through a chick that no one had ever seen before but is supposed to care immensely about. "Muah! Ha! Muah ha! And another 'muah' for good measure! Ha!" "Noo!" Smog dived forward as the chick fell to her knees. "Noo! Not the lady I just met but fell deeply, madly in love with anyway!" "Smog..." She whispered all soft-and-dramatic like. "Nooo!" X X X X X "Oh, I see now." Mulder said. "Do you?" Smog asked. X X X X X Cue an even more boring and so-depthless-that-it-isn't-even-funny flashback: "Noo!" Smog cried. "Noo!" "Muah ha ha!" Blecch-aroth laughed. "Even though I have no motive or reason, the world will be mine! All mine! And I'm not even going to be fair about it! I'm just going to kill everyone with a giant, easy-to-deflect weapon and live a solitary, meaningless existence! Muah-ha-ha!" "Nooo!" X X X X X Mulder paused warily and looked about. "Woo! Main floor, baaaby! I kin jess smell that ass, yo!" Damnit cried. "Lets go!" Beefa exclaimed. Scully and Mulder exchanged glances and followed. Smog, of course, was leading the way. He opened the door... and everything suddenly went black. Pitch black. Depthless black. "We're in deep shit black?" Damnit offered. That'll do. X X X X X "Aaagh! I can't hold up this blasted sword like this anymore!" Keebler cried. Gall paused warily. He'd said things like that eight or nine times already. But, lo and behold, Keebler hunched over and gagged miserably. "You..." He panted. "May have beat me now, but I'll be back at least three or four more times! Ha..." Gasp. "Ha... and I'll be even more dull and pointless than before!" And, letting out a Daffy-Duck-like "Woo-hoo, woo-hoo!" Keebler bolted. Gall heaved a painful breath and started the yippie-hurray-happy-happy-victory dance. However, he found that there was one little thing holding him firmly to the ground. With a sick feeling of dread, he looked down. There she was, Flea-ona, beaming up at him. "My hero! I'll love you forever-and-ever-and-ever-and-ever-and-ever-and...." X X X X X The darkness began to fade, and ominous music took its place. Scully rolled her eyes and covered her ears. Suddenly, the silver-haired, black-clad, femmie guy with the really long sword was looming in front of them. He laughed all evil-like, and that ominous music shifted into a much louder and more annoying full-scale battle theme. Something like this: Da-da-DA-da-da Da-da-DA-dadda! "Okay, Beefa and Damnit, lets go!" Smog cried. "What about us?" Mulder asked. "Only three can fight at a time." Scully coughed. "What?! That's crazy! Why just let us stand here!" "That's just how things work," Smog said. "Okay, it's your funeral." Scully said, as she walked off. "Idiots." Mulder said. X X X X X "Gall, ever since I met you..." Flea-ona had taken his hands. "I knew that you were the one for me. Gall, besides the getting locked away and having to fight all these dumb monsters thing... It's been the best three hours of my life." Gall sighed. "You need to learn to open yourself up, Gall. You need a free spirit like me. I love you, Gall." "...Whatever." "I knew you were going to say that." Flea-ona said. "Whatever." "I knew you were going to say that, too." "Whatever." "Surprise-surprise." Flea-ona sang. "Whatever." X X X X X "You'll never take over the world, Blecch-aroth!" Smog exclaimed. Damnit and Beefa stood ready on either side of them. Blecch-aroth yawned and looked bored with this, as all villains do. "Yo ass is -mine-, foo!" Damnit said. Blecch-aroth promptly cut him into itty-bitty pieces. "Well," Beefa said. "I didn't see -that- coming." Smog gulped. X X X X X "I love you." "Yeah." "I love you." "Uh-huh." "I love you." "Sure." "I love you." "Woo-hoo." "I love you!" "Okay! Okay! I love you too!" Flea-ona fell silent and batted her eyes. Gall blinked. "Gee," He said. "Sure, it's empty and totally betrays my character... But maybe I do love you after all. Don't ask me why." "Yea!" Flea-ona cried. X X X X X "I..." Beefa gasped. "Can't... go on... Much... longer...Smog..." Blecch-aroth laughed evilly. "You dared to face me! I laugh evilly and villain-like at your foolishness! Ha! Ha-ha! Ha!" "Smog..." Her chest heaved, even more than usual. "... I... the story is going to end soon... and... for no particular reason, I'm going to waste my time and tell you that I love you..." "Oh, Beefa..." Smog said all sappy-like. "A-hem." Blecch-aroth cleared his throat. "Evil villain, trying to act all evil-villian-ish here." He pointed at himself a few times. "Sorry." They said. "It's fine, it's fine." Blecch-aroth fluttered his hand. "I'm going to cast a dangerous and deadly spell on you, now." "By all means, carry on." "Muah-ha-ha!" Blecch-aroth boomed. "Muah! Muah ha!" He wove his hands around in little wavy circles and made little sparkly things fly about all over the place. Beefa and Smog both clutched their stomachs and buckled over. "Now..." Blecch-aroth said. "It ends." "Not so fast!" A heroic voice said. "Wha?" Blecch-aroth had the nerve to look surprised. Mulder and Scully stood in line at the battle-field. He stood naked with his twisted towel primed and ready, and Scully held her gun at her side. An unseen wind blew their hair about all dramatic-like, and they stared like two Clint Eastwoods into the distance. "Hurray..." Beefa croaked. "Well, well, well... if it isn't the red-haired-devil and some naked guy." Blecch-aroth said. "How interesting." Mulder covered himself. "... What if I told you both that I could get you back into your own world?" Mulder and Scully were immediately at his sides and clinging to him Flea-ona-ishly. "Damn." Smog said. "Duped again." "I love you!" Mulder said. "Sorry, guys." Scully said. She didn't sound that sorry, especially on account that she was still staring into Blecch-aroth's face and hugging him and all. "I love you!" Mulder said. "Just a minute!" Another voice said. Everyone turned to its source. There stood Gall, with Flea-ona latched to his arm and his gunblade drawn. Blecch-aroth looked at his watch and let loose a heaving sigh. "You," Gall said haughtily. "Are a bad guy. We, on the other hand, are good. That's advantage number one. Advantage number two -- the author is sitting up at 3:05 in the morning, having typed three chapters already and is getting sick of it. The sooner you're beaten, the sooner everyone can go to bed." Gall waved his gunblade around. "In short, game over man." "Au contraire, my friend." Blecch-aroth said. "You would have to use an Amazing finishing move on me. Everyone knows that using Amazing finishing moves to wrap up a story show no creativity." "...Have you read this whole story yet?" Gall asked. "Hmm?" "Yeah, face it." Beefa said. "This thing sucks. It's not like it can get much worse." Mulder and Scully, unable to argue, looked at each other and shrugged. "So now..." Gall said, reaching into his pocket. "It ends." X X X X X "Noo!" Blecch-aroth cried. There was a flash of white light. Everyone shielded their eyes. When the glow faded, Blecch-aroth was gone. Mulder and Scully blinked, Beefa clutched her chest for the purpose of drawing attention to it, and Smog stepped forward. "Was that another Gawd-e-Don't Force-Me-To-Watch-em?" "That..." Gall said smugly. "Was Reality-e-mon." "Huh?" Gall shrugged. "It made him aware of all the crappy fan-fictions that have been written about him after this game got put into the public... Especially the kinky hentai ones." "...That's evil." Mulder said. Gall beamed. Flea-ona squeezed him until he turned blue. X X X X X "I've got it!" Langly cried. Byers and Frohike, who were pulling electrical cords out of the wall, looked over in his direction. Langly beamed up at them, and held up a video game case. On it was written the following: QUICK-PLOT -- THE EASY WAY OUT. "Cool." Frohike said. "Imagine that, it was sitting on the coffee table the whole time." Langly pulled out he CD and opened the Playstation. X X X X X "So Gall and Flea-ona fell in love ten minutes ago," Mulder said. "... And Beefa and Smog are suddenly all infatuated for some reason... "And Damnit is ground chuck on the floor..." "Wow," He said. "What a happy ending." "What about us, though?" Scully said. "Um..." Mulder looked nervous for a moment. "What do you want? An empty plot-filling lover or to be ground chuck on the floor." Scully glared coolly at him. "I want to be home again!" "I'm really sorry, guys." Gall said. "But I had to beat the villain." Mulder held Scully back from clobbering the guy. "It's okay, man. We understand." Scully made angry hissing noises at him. Beefa looked down at the floor. "Poor Damnit. He didn't get his happy ending." Suddenly, a dismembered leg came flying up and smacked Mulder in the bottom. He shrieked. "Aaaw!" Everyone did a happy-sitcom-ending laugh. "We're still not home." Scully said with a frown. "No... wait..." Gall said. "Something's happening...." Mulder covered his vital spots and danced away from Damnit's remains. "Where?!" "No," Smog said. "It's you guys." "I can see it too!" Beefa said. "Somebody SAVE them!" Flea-ona cried. "Scully..." Mulder said, as he watched her begin to fade into nothing-ness. She closed her eyes, and then they were gone. "Well." Smog said. "That was a dull exit." Everyone nodded. The door burst open off to one side, and Keebler came staggering in. "Ha! I'm back! Prepare to die!" "Yeah, yeah, whatever." "You said it man," Smog said. The four of them walked off. "Hey! What are you guys... Hey!" Keebler exclaimed, as he dropped his gunblade to his side in dismay. "...Aw, geez." X X X X X She opened their eyes. "Hey! What did you guys do to my apartment?!" Mulder cried. "We were -trying- to save you." Langly said haughtily. "Geez.. you're welcome." Frohike muttered. Mulder sighed drearily. "Sorry... I... hey, is that Chinese food?" "Huh? Oh, yeah. We'll clean it up." "You guys ordered -Chinese- food?!" The trio looked at Mulder and Scully, before nodding solemnly. "... Are you sure there isn't anything left? I haven't eaten in days." Scully slapped her forehead. Mulder sighed and pouted. "This sucks. This so sucks." "Sorry!" Byers said defensively. "Next time we get takeout we'll think about you, okay." "No!" Mulder cried. "It's not that! It's just, I went through so much." Scully cleared her throat pointedly. "And Scully got a cough over nothing!" He exclaimed. "I mean, I got an electric shock and everything and never even heard what women want!" "Well... have you tried it yet?" Langly asked. Mulder paused. "...No." He looked at Scully all of a sudden, who offered him a cool look in return. Mulder squinted his eyes and stared intently at her. The room went thick with tense silence. "You're an idiot." Mulder blinked. "I did it! I heard what Scully thought!" Scully pounded a fist into his shoulder. "I said that aloud, you dolt! And you -are- an idiot!" Mulder winced, pouted, and rubbed his arm. "-I'm- going to take taking a hot shower," Scully said, not at all empathetic. "The hairdryer is staying -out- of the bathroom from now on... And as for you, Mulder -- Mark this as the end of your VCR." "Scullieee...." Mulder whined. She crossed her arms stubbornly and raised her chin. "This sucks." Mulder said finally, as he hiked up his towel and started out of the room. However, just as he reached the doorway he stopped short... Scully watched him come to a halt and narrowed her eyes curiously... watched the muscles of his back tense and his head start to look over one shoulder. Mulder's heart stopped. The room was silent... but he could hear it. Deep within his head, he could hear... Mulder, terrified....met Frohike's eyes. Frohike blinked at him with intense realization, and then bashfully brought his knuckle to his mouth and gave it a coy little bite between his teeth. ...Good God. The End It's over. Really. You can trust me. Honest.