From: Reese Date: Sun, 26 Jul 1998 16:36:37 -1000 Subject: NEW:"A Match Made in Space" (1/8),humor Disclaimer: The X Files characters are property of Chris Carter and Fox. No infringement intended. Rated PG-13 for language and mild violence. Starring: David Duchovny as Agent Mulder, Gillian Anderson as Agent Scully, and... Jerry Springer, Michael Jackson, Sylvester Stallone, and Madonna as themselves. Summary: In 1989, Mulder gets abducted by Jerry Springer, who turns out to be an alien. From there, he's whisked off to an alien zoo and put on display for the amusement of the aliens. The satire is only beginning. Feedback (good or bad) to china@usc.edu "A Match Made in Space" Part One -1989- Brutally kicking the door open, Agent Fox Mulder, dressed in his FBI parka, charged into "The Jerry Springer Show." A dozen other similarly dressed agents followed him as the studio audience turned and gasped in shock. On stage, under the harsh glare of the lights, Jerry Springer looked up in alarm. A pair of security guards stood in front of Mulder, demanding to know what this was all about. Mulder didn't move his eyes from Springer as he flashed them his badge with one hand and held his gun with the other. "Special Agent Fox Mulder, FBI," he shouted, before pointing his gun at Springer. "Jerry Springer, you're under arrest for conspiracy to commit murder." Before last week, Mulder would only have laughed at the idea that Jerry Springer could be involved in a hideous conspiracy to destroy the lives of Americans across the country. Who would have known, Mulder thought sardonically as he faced down Jerry Springer from a distance of twenty yards. The dozens of murders across the country had all seemed isolated, unrelated cases. Other than the fact that they all involved middle-aged women stealing their daughter's boyfriends and then cold-heartedly killing them after a night of hot, unbridled sex, there had seemed no connection. But after a careful examination of the evidence, Mulder had made the brilliant connection. He had found the smoking gun. All of the murderous moms were rabid watchers of "The Jerry Springer Show." Careful analysis of Jerry Springer's comments on the show led to shocking discoveries. When he said, "Next, see girls disgusted by their mothers' slutty behavior," Mulder had found that that same statement played backwards was, "Your shitty daughter's boyfriend must die after you both have sex." And that wasn't all. Whenever the show cut to a commercial break, a carefully hidden image of a bloody knife was superimposed on the screen, along with the words, "KILL, KILL, KILL." Subliminal messages. Mulder had hard evidence, and now he was going to expose the son of a bitch. But before he could step forward, Springer suddenly lunged and grabbed a teenaged girl, holding a gun to her head. "Stay back, I swear I'll blow her brains out," Springer vowed as he backed toward the back door. Mulder, a drop of sweat rolling down his brow, lifted his left hand and waved the other agents back. "You're not going anywhere, Springer. The building is surrounded. Give it up." Springer shoved the girl toward Mulder, who ran forward to catch her before she fell. In the confusion, Springer slipped out the back entrance. As Mulder motioned for the other agents to pursue him, everyone heard a loud, thunderous BOOM, followed by the agonized screams of the agents outside. Mulder saw a flash of light from beyond the door. Bewildered, Mulder ran outside the building, alone. Mulder saw a dozen federal agents lying on the ground, moaning in pain from what appeared to be intense radiation burns. Their outer layers of skin had been fried right off, revealing scorched flesh and blood everywhere. As Mulder turned in a full circle, desperately hoping for a glimpse of his suspect, his trench coat flapping wildly in the wind, a strange figure caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. It was Jerry Springer, yet it wasn't him. Mulder watched wordlessly as Springer pulled off his face, revealing a thin, grey, face with wide, black, deep eyes. It was the face of a little grey man. Mulder tried to fire his gun, repeatedly, his breath coming in rapid gasps, but to no avail. His gun would not fire. "What the fu---" Mulder said as a mysterious light enveloped him. He felt himself being lifted off the street by a powerful, unseen, implacable force. Then he blacked out. * * * "He's coming to." The incandescent light bulb directly above him flickered in and out of sight like a flashing beacon as Mulder blinked rapidly. He did not know how long he had been unconscious, but he suspected it had been several hours since his encounter with Jerry Springer in the dark alley. Mulder heard the voice and immediately recognized it as Springer's. "Don't worry, Fox, everything's going to be all right," an effeminate voice said. Mulder suddenly straightened in shock as he turned his head toward the sound. That voice... he could have sworn it was the distinctive voice of his least favorite personality from the 80's... As Mulder turned around in his chair to look around him, he noticed that it was barren of features except for a single observation window, where three men were standing, watching him. Mulder started as he matched the voice with the face... The face of Michael Jackson. -----------------part one ends "A Match Made in Space" Part Two "Holy shit, it's the King of Pop, himself," Mulder said incredulously. Standing to Jackson's right was Jerry Springer, but on the left, Mulder saw none other than Sylvester Stallone. "Stallone?" Mulder said in shock. "You're an alien?" He couldn't believe what he was seeing. Whatever happened, somehow he would never feel the same about "Rambo" or "Rocky" again, and damned if those weren't two of his favorite non-porno movies. The three men pulled off their faces to reveal their true alien selves. "Fox," Jackson continued, "You are on the planet Carter." The aliens put their masks back on. "Where are you taking me?" Mulder said. "We maintain an inter-galactic exhibition of lifeforms drawn from across the universe for the amusement of our people," Jerry Springer said. "Call it a sort of inter-galactic zoo. We showcase lifeforms in a simulation of their natural environment, and their lives are broadcast across the planet all day long. We call it 'The Nature Show.' 'The Nature Show' is the most successful show on the airwaves. Television on planet Carter can be a very competitive place, and we need the ratings." "Why me?" Mulder croaked. His throat was going dry as he listened. He could not believe that aliens had taken him from his home. He didn't want to be part of some damn zoo. It was beneath his dignity. "We know you have something of a...fascination with extra-ter-res-trial life," Stallone said, spitting out the words with effort. "We thought you'd ...uh, ...welcome the chance to see the aliens you've been looking for first-hand. Besides, ... our star earthling died yesterday." "Who?" "Elvis Presley." "Elvis was alive?" "Of course he was alive! Jesus! You didn't actually think he was dead, did you?" "You're a liar." "'I Can't Help Falling in Love with You' was a big hit on planet Carter," Jackson said. "A much bigger hit than my own 'Man in the Mirror,'" he added bitterly to himself. A hovering, metallic sphere descended from the ceiling and Mulder stopped to look up at it. "What are you doing? Take me home now. I want to go home right now!--" "Begin the probe," Stallone said coldly. As Mulder stiffened and shrieked in excruciating pain, images flooded across the river of his consciousness, one by one. He felt the slimy tendrils of the alien minds as they probed and prodded his mind, but he was too weak to resist them. His own cries of protest grew smaller and smaller, fading away into a long tunnel of darkness. * * * The alien triumvirate watched from their control tower as the life of Fox William Mulder was broadcast live to billions of viewers across Carter. Day in, day out, viewers were treated to the sight of Mulder sitting down watching pornos with soulless indifference, or of Mulder mechanically chewing on sunflower seeds as he stared languidly at the ceiling, or of Mulder bouncing his basketball around in helpless frustration. But the audience grew increasingly restless as the days went on. Elvis had been a natural performer. He could just sing one song after another, lazily plucking out the chords on his guitar, and the audience would eat it up. What was wrong with this Mulder? the alien producers wondered. "He is not responding well to his new environment," Springer observed as he paced back and forth through the control tower. Springer didn't understand. They had probed his mind to find out what he enjoyed most, and had consequently done their best to accommodate him. Michael Jackson frowned in dismay as he read the latest viewer mail, one of millions they had received in the last few days... --------------------------------------------------- Dear Sirs, Your 'Nature Show' is the most goddamn fucking boring piece of shit I've ever seen. Your new earthling is a pathetic loser; is he the best you could do, you moronic bastards?! Fucking kill this bitch already! FUCK!!! All he does is sit around and practically jerk off all day long. Where's the tension? Where's the human drama? Where's the *excitement*?!?! You guys suck serious dick. sincerely, Vinny P.S. Come back, Elvis, I miss you!!! ---------------------------------------------------- "The situation can still be salvaged," Jackson said. "Perhaps he needs somebody to love." "Yes," Stallone concurred. "he does... strike me as a lonely man. We will find someone for him... tonight." * * * Dana Scully briskly walked to her car, shivering beneath her trench coat from the cold D.C. night. She had finished medical school only the year before, and now she was a bright, promising new agent at the FBI Academy. It looked to be another lonely night hanging out at her apartment, and she sighed as she tossed her rental movies onto the passenger seat. As she moved to sit down in her car, she noticed a bright, flashing light in the sky above. Scully ignored it as she got into her car, locked the door, and turned the key in the ignition. "Damn it!" Scully said in annoyance, before looking up and seeing the bright light again, much closer this time, and although she didn't believe in aliens, she could only stare at the night sky in perplexity, paralysis, and, above all, fear, as she contemplated the object that approached her like a magnet . . . ------end part two "A Match Made in Space" Part Three Coming awake was like being born again. Blinking in confusion, Dana Scully rubbed her hands over her eyes, mentally trying to squelch her pounding headache. The white light poured into her eyes, blinding her in its purity. Before long, Scully discerned the figure of a woman standing before her. It was Madonna. "It's time, Dana," Madonna said in a soothing voice. "They're all waiting for you outside. The whole world is watching." "Watching--what?" Scully said. This had to be a dream. There was no other rational explanation. "Why, your wedding, of course." Startled, Scully blinked rapidly again to assure herself that she wasn't dreaming. Not letting her gaze move from Madonna's face, she pinched herself hard. The pain was as real as real could get. Biting her lower lip, Scully lowered her head. "Wedding?" she said, puzzled. "But I don't even have a boyfr---" Scully's voice caught in her throat as she saw what she was wearing. Dana Scully was dressed in a virginal white gown, complete with white, elbow-length opera gloves and a veil that had been lifted above her face. A lovely yellow rose had been tied into her hair. Sniffing, Scully could tell that she had been scented with some kind of perfume. It called to her mind a hundred beautiful things... a meadow strewn with daisies in spring time, the feel of standing barefoot on an Atlantic beach, drinking in the sea air, the forest she and her brothers played in. "Who...who are you?" Scully said. "Who do you think I am? I'm Madonna. You know, pop singer - bad actress extraordinaire. Don't tell me you don't know who I am." "But... where am I?" "You poor, poor thing," Madonna crooned, as she delicately reached to brush a tendril of red hair away from Scully's blushing face. "You're on planet Carter, light years away from Earth." Before Scully could indignantly deny what she was being told, the door to the bridal chamber opened, and a little grey man walked in to announce that the groom awaited. "Darling," Madonna said with a smile, "It's time." * * * The Spotnitz Cantina Meanwhile, at the Spotnitz Cantina, a popular Carterian bar serving hundreds of customers daily, the crowd of aliens stared at their television screen in interest and anticipation. This was a rare event in Carterian television history; it wasn't every day that two earthlings joined together in matrimony. Billions of viewers were tuning in around the world. It was like the earthlings' Oscar night in terms of the sheer hugeness of the ratings. "But... but they haven't even met yet!" one alien, Vinny, cried above the general ruckus. "How can they get together? The show was bad enough with that Mulder guy, and now they throw in this short, red-headed chick! What the fuck?! Are the producers on crack or something?!?" The crowd of patrons turned on him viciously, hushing him into silence, before turning back to the screen. * * * Dana Scully, beneath her veil, was blushing scarlet. Who was this mysterious person she was supposed to marry, and why was everyone so interested in the proceedings? She was walking slowly down the long central aisle of a huge alien cathedral, complete with holographic images over the walls that were completely alien. A hundred strobe bulbs flashed around her, and multiple camera operators swooped over her on hovering transports, hoping to get a better shot. An organ somewhere played "Here Comes the Bride." As she neared the front of the cathedral, Scully saw Michael Jackson, Sylvester Stallone, and Jerry Springer standing before her, along with a tall man dressed in a tuxedo, whose back was turned to her. He had short, clean-cut brown hair. If I'm going to get married, Scully thought morosely to herself, I hope he's not some ugly bastard. The place grew deathly silent as Scully drew up stiffly next to her groom, not even looking at him. Michael Jackson raised his hands as he stepped forward to address the crowd. "Hi, everyone," Jackson began, "Welcome to our special episode of 'The Nature Show.' We are here to celebrate the joining of Fox William Mulder and Dana Katherine Scully in holy matrimony." Pointing his right arm toward the ceiling, Michael Jackson deftly spun around on one heel, grabbed his crotch, and howled out his trademark "Owwwwww!!!!!!!" Sylvester Stallone, dressed in the garb of a priest, stepped forward, holding up an earthling Holy Bible. He clumsily adjusted his reading glasses as he flipped through the pages. "...'kay," Stallone said, "Fox William Mulder, do you take Dana...Katherine... Scully to be your... uh, lawfully wedded wife,..." ----------end part three "A Match Made in Space" Part Four The Spotnitz Cantina A young female alien name Chrissy raised a slender grey hand to her big black eyes and brushed away a tear. "They're both so cute," Chrissy said wistfully, "Oh my god. This is so... so *beautiful*!" The girl sobbed in terrible happiness as she watched Mulder exchange gold wedding rings with Scully before uttering the words "I do" through tightened lips. * * * "And do you, Dana Katherine Scully, take, ... Fox William Mulder to be your... law-fully wed-ded husband, through richer or poorer...through...." "No!!!" Scully screamed, throwing her flowers at a mortified Stallone. "Fuck you, Rambo! I hate your dumb-shit macho movies anyway. I don't know who the hell you think you are, but if this is your idea of a joke, it's not funny, you got that? Take me back home right now!!! Right---" Before Scully could finish her tirade, a small panel on the floor near her feet opened soundlessly and a mechanical instrument came shooting up. Buzzing with energy, it touched Scully's ankle, delivering a fast and nasty electric shock that cut Scully off and made her entire lower body smart in pain. "Scully, don't fight it," Mulder whispered to her. "Yes, I do," Scully said, wincing and glaring darkly at Stallone. "I do." "You may now kiss.. the ... bride," Stallone said to Mulder with finality, closing the Bible. As Mulder and Scully faced each other for the first time in their lives, Madonna stood up on stage and took the microphone. She immediately launched into a throaty, impassioned performance of "Crazy for You." Swaying room as the music starts Strangers making the most of the dark Two by two their bodies become one A nervous Mulder tentatively looked down at his new bride and slowly lifted the veil from her face. He shuddered as he beheld Dana Scully's face for the first time, seeing her crystal blue eyes pierce through his with perfect clarity, the few strands of red-gold hair hanging lightly over her lined forehead. He noted the smooth textures of her pure, white skin. The red fullness of her tender lips. I see you through the smoky air Can't you feel the weight of my stare And he, Fox Mulder, was going to kiss those lips. But this is so wrong, Mulder thought to himself. Judging from what he had gathered, Scully had only been brought here today. She's so beautiful, Mulder thought, she doesn't deserve this. An intense wave of guilt washed over him. He had long resigned himself to his fate, having realized the utter futility of his situation, and to him, the arrival of a companion was most welcome. It was a shamefully selfish desire, but Mulder cynically gave in to it. You're so close but still a world away Mulder tenderly cupped his hands around Scully's face, a face that registered no emotion except her buried feelings of frustration, anger, and an attraction she was trying to fight. What I'm dying to say, is that Their eyes closed, Mulder and Scully silently acknowledged the circumstances beyond their control as they leaned in to kiss each other. I'm crazy for you Touch me once and you'll know it's true I never wanted anyone like this It's all brand new, you'll feel it in my kiss I'm crazy for you, crazy for you... --------part four ends "A Match Made in Space" Part Five Light years from home, Fox Mulder and Dana Scully had been married for a week. They spent the days hanging out in their 'simulated environment.' It was not an exciting life, and Scully grew increasingly frustrated with Mulder's dejected apathy. "So we're just going to live like this for the rest of our lives?" Scully said as she ate vanilla ice cream straight from the carton. "You're not going to try to get out of here?" "What's the use, Scully. We're so far away from home. You might as well get used to it." "Get used to it?" Scully yelled shrewishly as she took off her wedding ring and fiercely hurled it at her husband, who dodged it adroitly. "You bastard! I bet this is all your doing. You brought me here and fed me this line about being on another planet." "Do you believe in the existence of extraterrestrials, Scully?" "No," Scully said. "Fuck, no! It's a conspiracy, damn it, and you're behind it! I want you to take me back!" Scully stood over Mulder, who sat on the couch. She screamed a curse in helpless anger as she leaned down to grab him by the collar and yank him forward. "Take me back! Take me ---back!!!" Scully jerked Mulder's head, back and forth. She stopped when she saw that Mulder was in pain. "Take me back," Scully whispered in tears as she lay her head against his chest. Mulder folded her into his arms. * * * The alien triumvirate of Michael Jackson, Jerry Springer, and Sylvester Stallone sat together in a conference room as they watched Mulder and Scully on their television screen. "Yesterday," Michael Jackson said, "I received this viewer letter." He read the letter out loud to the others: ------------------------------------------- Dear Mr. Executive Producers, Ever since you introduced Dana Scully, I have watched your show religiously. Whenever Mulder looks at Scully through his wire frame glasses or Scully arches her eyebrows at him, I just want to squeal to the heavens in triumphant ecstasy. It is so totally orgasmic, I'm like, oh... my... god. And when Mulder puts his hand on the small of her back, the unresolved sexual tension sends shivers of joy through my entire being. Why haven't Mulder and Scully made love yet? They've been married for six days, for Chrissakes! Maybe Mulder doesn't feel like he deserves her? Could it be Scully blames him for her being there? They are two beautiful earthlings who are made for each other. The physical act would not ruin the show; it would only take their relationship to a new, higher level, higher than the Empire State Building, higher than the Himalayan Mountains. It would take it all the way up to the stratosphere and beyond. Please, it would make me *so* happy to see Mulder and Scully get together at last. I need to see them happy in order for me to be happy. Mulder loves Scully. Scully loves Mulder. It's a wonderful romance! =), Chrissy ----------------------------------------------------------- "Per-haps... it's time we... in-ter-vened," Stallone said decisively. "We'll slip libido-inducing drugs into Scully's dinner,..." Springer said. "...tonight..." * * * "Mulder," Scully said, her voice thick with desire, "I want you." Mulder could hardly believe what he was hearing. Here they were, finishing up their dinner, and all of a sudden, after a week of arguing and fighting, Scully wanted to make love to him? Today must be his lucky day. Scully shucked off her jacket, walked over to his chair, and grabbed him by the collar like Mulder was a dog on a leash. The lights dimmed as she led him by the hand to her bed. * * * The Spotnitz Cantina "Whoa shit, they're gonna do it!!!" an alien viewer cried out in surprise. Everyone in the bar turned to stare at the television screen to watch Scully as she slammed Mulder on the bed and climbed after him, straddling him and holding him down, shoving him back if he made any move to get up. She bent down to kiss him. Mulder moaned in response as they began removing the rest of their clothing. * * * Michael Jackson motioned to the technicians manning their consoles. "Cue the music," he ordered. * * * The Spotnitz Cantina The patrons watched in rapt, voyeuristic amusement as Mulder and Scully continued to fumble at each other's clothing, surrendering to the rising tide of their lust. On the soundtrack, a Bangles song began playing... I love it in your room at night You're the only one who gets through to me In the warm glow of the candle light Oh, I know what you're going to do to me Mulder and Scully, their clothes off, groped frantically at each other as they twisted and turned on the bed, a mere prelude to the inevitable consummation of their marriage. A marriage made in the stars. In your room I'll do anything you ask me to Only want to be with you In your rooommmm..... In your rooooommmmm...... ----------end part five "A Match Made in Space" Part Six The Spotnitz Cantina Three average Carterian aliens, Vinny, Chrissy, and Robbie, sat slumped in their stools as they watched the latest on Mulder and Scully. For the last week, ever since Mulder and Scully had first "done it," it seemed you couldn't turn on the show for ten minutes without Mulder and Scully kissing, fondling, holding hands, cuddling, or just plain going at it like wild monkeys. It had all started when Jerry Springer had secretly slipped aphrodisiacs into Scully's food. She and Mulder had subsequently engaged in many hours of incredible, non-stop, passionate sex. The next morning, when the two had woken up next to each other in bed, their limbs entangled and intertwined among the sheets, their bodies spent from their wild night of torrential ecstasy, they had both come to a startling realization, and that stunning epiphany was... They liked it! Not a day passed by after that without Mulder and Scully making love, sometimes more than once. As they grew used to their own captivity and of each other's company, they ceased to fight and argue, preferring to spend all day together in bed satisfying their basic instincts. Life for them had never been better. Robbie didn't like it at all. "The show used to be cool," he complained to Chrissy. "It's the fault of sentimental mush heads like *you* that it sucks as much ass as it does now." "Well, I think it's a beautiful relationship. Love is a wonderful thing," Chrissy said, her big black eyes growing watery. "Love can just kiss my fucking ass," Vinny sneered. "If I want to see two earthlings kiss and do the horizontal mambo all the time, I'll just rent a porno. That's all the show is now. One long porno." "Yeah, Chrissy, it's all your fucking fault, you goddamn whore!!!" Robbie screamed, shoving the table over. Chrissy's friends came to her side. "Leave her alone, you heartless sons of bitches," one of them said. "Oh, just because we like to see some dramatic interaction laced with unresolved sexual tension, instead of constant sex, that makes us heartless sons of bitches? They were good foils for each other. One's a believer, the other's a skeptic. One likes to make jokes, the other is cold as ice. Now they don't argue about anything, and it's all because of you bunch o' saps!!!" Vinny said. "You want a piece of us, motherfuckers?!" Chrissy challenged. Someone grabbed a bottle and brought it crashing onto Vinny's head, smashing his alien skull. Green blood came oozing out. The entire crowd at the Spotnitz Cantina erupted into chaos after that. Folks were throwing punches, chairs, bottles, glasses, and each other. Robbie started blasting as many of the sentimental mush heads as he could with his Carterian death ray. "Come get some!" he cried belligerently. "Oh, you want some too? Fuck you!" Robbie shot his opponents like a maniac. Chrissy drew her own death ray and blasted Robbie to bits. Once the whole bar was sufficiently trashed to hell, the combatants took to the streets, boxing and shooting, spreading the fight like a wild fire gone out of control... * * * Mulder and Scully sat in a sterile, empty, white room, devoid of windows, as Michael Jackson paced back and forth before them. It was clear from the distant and vacant stares of our dynamic duo that they were undergoing some kind of hypnosis, a "reprogramming," so to speak. An implantation of memories, both real and false. From an observation window, Jerry Springer and Sylvester Stallone watched impassively. On a television screen, Stallone noticed the latest news reports. A reporter who was covering the worldwide riots and looting desperately tried to make his voice heard over the turbulent racket. "This is Channel 48 News, reporting live from Section 56. Ever since Mulder and Scully arrived on this planet, 'The Nature Show' has become a cultural phenomenom! There isn't a single Carterian child out there who doesn't want all the merchandise.. the video releases, the soundtrack, the action figures, the trading cards, the Happy Meal. Yet all is not well in this part of Carter--" A huge explosion in the background resulted in a moment of static and fuzz, before the reporter came back on. "Viewer obsession with this show has reached unprecedented heights! There is a war raging now, with violently opposed fans split into two camps: those who want to see Mulder and Scully in a sexual relationship, and those who would rather see them unmarried, but with lots of unresolved sexual tension between them. Passions are running high--" The reporter was abruptly interrupted by Chrissy, who shoved him out of the way and yelled hysterically into the camera. "You can't fight the love, motherfuckers!!! Yaaahhhh!!!!!" Chrissy screamed before blasting the camera to pieces. The feed was lost, and a card apologizing for "technical difficulties" appeared on the TV screen. Stallone shook his head. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" Springer said. "We have no choice. We are over-budget... Mulder and Scully must go... for the sake of ... the network, and the entire world," Stallone said grimly. -----------end part six "A Match Made in Space" Part Seven Inside the white room, Michael Jackson was finishing up with his hypnosis. "Very good, Fox," Jackson said. "Now, Dana, repeat to me: where have you been for the last two weeks, honey?" "I had a... family... emergency..." Scully said, her eyes closed. "What kind of emergency?" "My second cousin... had a... pulmonary...embolism," Scully said like an automaton. * * * Mulder woke up on the sofa in his apartment, feeling like he had a massive hangover. He had no memories of how he had gotten there. The last thing he knew, he had been chasing Jerry Springer outside of his studio. What had happened? What day was it? Mulder, reaching for his gun, got up slowly and looked at his watch. It had been two weeks. What had he been doing for the last two weeks? Was he missing time? Had he been abducted? Mulder, in a panic, searched frantically through his memories, trying to find something to hold onto. Then it all came back to him. He had gone and taken his vacation time. During that time, he had hung out at night clubs and had done a lot of partying. Scoping out the chicks... yeah. That's right, Mulder thought to himself with a smile. Then he noticed the gold wedding ring on his finger. Now where the hell had he gotten *that*?! "To impress the chicks," Mulder said out loud, after a moment's hesitation. Obviously, he was wearing that ring to impress chicks. Women are attracted to married men like termites to a light bulb. It's dangerous. Dangerous is sexy. Everyone knows that! "Besides," Mulder concluded, "I was drunk." * * * "Um, guys?" Michael Jackson said. "I forgot about the ring." "What do you mean, you forgot about the ring?" Jerry Springer howled as he shot up from his seat and furiously pounded the table with a fist. The triumvirate was having another private conference, surveying the damages. "It's possible...that...the ring can trigger...certain memories in... Mulder," Stallone stammered in dismay. "If Mulder realizes the truth," Springer fumed, "he could expose us all! Think of all the Carterian spies on Earth who would be in jeapardy---The Spice Girls, Prince, Newt Gingrich, Steven Seagal, Anna Nicole Smith, Dennis Rodman, The Hansons--" "The list would go on and on," Stallone said. "Hey, hey," Jackson said, alarmed, as he held up his hands. "Guys! It was an honest mistake. We'll just abduct him and take it back...right? Uh, guys?" "Don't be a fool," Springer said. "What happened to you, Mr. Jackson? You used to be hip, but you lost it. You went from being a poor, black man to a rich, white woman, and a fucking child molester. Your eccentric behavior and incompetence have cost us for the last time. Beat it!!!" Without another word, Springer and Stallone both whipped out their death rays and summarily disintegrated poor Michael Jackson on the spot. end part seven - brief epilogue follows in part 8! A Match Made in Space : EPILOGUE -1993- "Agent Mulder? I'm Special Agent Dana Scully." Wearing his glasses, Mulder stopped what he was doing at his desk long enough to look her. Dana Scully looked fresh, young, and businesslike. Delicate on the outside yet tough on the inside. And so very, very beautiful. "Nobody here but the FBI's most unwanted," Mulder said with wry sarcasm. "So, who'd you tick off to get stuck with this detail?" "Actually, I've heard a lot about you. I'm looking forward to working with you." "Oh, really?" Mulder said. "I was under the impression... that you were sent to spy on me." They looked uncomfortably at each other, and for a second, Mulder felt a flash of recognition and a horrible surge of longing, and a host of other feelings buried deep in his subconsciousness. He felt like he knew her from somewhere; he just couldn't put his finger on it. For a second, the gold ring that Mulder had long ago stopped wearing appeared before his mind's eye, shining in the light. Could it be--? No, Mulder thought to himself, dismissing it with a mental wave of his hand. Don't be ridiculous, he thought. You've never seen her before. It was probably nothing. The End. I would appreciate it if anyone who reads this sends me some kind of feedback, so I'll know this story of mine hasn't gone unnoticed. Give me a sign! :) --Todd china@usc.edu http://www-scf.usc.edu/~china "Crazy for You" and "In your Room" performed by Madonna and The Bangles, respectively. Lyrics used without permission.