From: Cerulean Blue Date: 7 Jul 1999 00:23:02 -0700 Subject: NEW "The Return of the Evil" NC-17 MSR by Cerulean Blue and Pinkus Rating: NC-17 (crude, squared) Classification: XA, MSR Archive: oh, yes, please! We will be so honored! Feedback: yes, please! It's better than spooning! Summary: We all know that Mulder and Scully are perfect for each other, but what happens when their relationship is threatened by an evil force? Author's Notes: Our faithful friends, Red-Headed Chick, the Big Apple, and the Cuckoo Lady, this one is especially for you. Because without love, friendship, and mist surrounding this blue planet, we might as well just be little monkeys lost in the jungle. The badly bruised gray skies swirled menacingly above the head of the porcelain red-headed doll that stood all achingly alone in the middle of a menacingly asphalted tarmac and watched the UFOs circle around her head. She had been processed today, like an ugly, moldy sausage in the fridge. Now her china white nipple was pierced with a crudely made carrot and it weighed her heavy bosom to the ground, the evil gravity force of her home planet working against her. A tattoo was pasted across her pale newly shaved chest identifying her to all the aliens like a piece of bad graffiti posted on a kindergarten wall. She peeked in her shirt to read what it said, once again: "Hi. I'm a slave." The alien ships drew ugly inhuman pictures with their fishy taillights and Scully could only imagine what evil thoughts were entering the green mucus stuck inside the scrawny gray heads of the pilots that sat inside the death-bringing machines. She waved her green glowing batons in the air, waving the UFO's down like a yo yo often does before it comes up. A passenger UFO had already died a fiery death, and a cargo UFO had lost its supply of dentures into the ocean because of her. She tried to console herself with thinking that she was contributing her small part to the resistance but really, she knew that she stunk at this job like an outhouse. And because she always tried to be the best at everything that she did just like Ahab told her to be, she was going to be the best Starbuck lighthouse but for UFOs and without water. So she stuck her tongue out of her beautiful red mouth and panted like a dog who sees its master coming home after a long trip. And she started to wave a really humongous ship down. The ship in the air was really, really big - probably bigger than a man - and was coming down to the tarmac slowly. Scully continued waving the ship down - pretending all the while that she was waving to her beloved mother and Skinner who were beyond heaven's pretty, pearly gates because they had died. Obviously. The ship was coming down much faster now, and Scully's eyes opened so wide that her teeth hurt. The ship was heading straight for her head. What was she going to do? Where could she run? Would she even survive? Oh! My! God! "!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" In the All-Alien Night Inn Before the little fiery red-headed ex-agent was hit by the UFO that hurt her pretty head, a tall lanky broad-shouldered hunk of a guy stood watching her work her ass off in the tarmac. He sighed intermittently, long, painfully drawn out moans and gasps of a man dying for a carrot. It was Mulder. Obviously. He was watching the woman he loved being tortured by all those UFOs, because even though she was really really trying hard to put them down gently like kittens, they were coming too fast and her short legs just weren't long enough to run fast enough. And because he knew that she was really busy and probably wouldn't want to bother with him, he decided to go to work because his night shift was starting really soon. He walked into the dressing room, quickly changing into clothes that accented the mass of masculinity down there, and his nose. He peeked out the curtain, surveying the crowd, hoping that the aliens wouldn't be too fickle tonight - he really did not want more dentures thrown at him, because they tended to bite... He jumped from behind the curtain, and thrust his chest, striking a pose. "You put your penis in," he sang very melodically like a bird that had been neutered. "You put your penis out," he waved his arms in the air and thrust his pelvis erotically. "You put your penis in, and you shake it all about!" The crowd exploded with howls and whistles and dentures clanking in the oral orifices of the gray-headed evil aliens. They definitely liked him tonight, and he hoped that they would stick some carrots inside his trousers before the night was over. His pierced nipple was hurting him really badly and he was wondering if maybe he should take to wearing a bra, to support his heavy load. He turned around in a circle, continuing to sing, shaking his butt like it was on fire. "You do the hokey pokey and you turn yourself about." He clapped his hands together to emphasize the point. "That's what it's all about!" The place erupted into thunderous applause, even though it really wasn't thunderous, because aliens really don't have a lot of fat on their hands and fingers, so it really sounded like newspapers in the breeze - but it was the loudest Mulder had ever heard the gray bastards ever clap, so it really made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. "Hey, Foxy!" he suddenly! Heard a human voice call to him. It was a dirty voice that sounded like raw underwear rolled in rotten eggs and it was the voice of a traitor that he once gave his heart to and she stepped on it and rolled it around in the mud like it wasn't a perfectly good heart in working order. And now Diana, the evil fowl witch that toyed with him like a cheap drunk toys with a broken glass in a bar, was here watching him dance for his masters! His dance number was over, so he tried walking away from the fowl, cheese-smelling woman. He brushed past one of the alien tables, put a big piece of dust jumped up and scratched him on his finger. He gasped in agony. He crawled over back to Diana, knowing that he was in dire need of medical attention. "Diana! You must take me to a hospital! This may get seriously infected!" Mulder had heard horrific stories about the gangrene virus, which made its home in dust particles and carrots. Diana's thick lips shaped into an evil, cruel smile. "No." It was equivalent to a death sentence, and Mulder began crying like a child who knew that the punishment for a broken crystal was imminent. "Please. Please! You must take me to the hospital! I will do anything you ask me for! In the name of our love!" Diana's eyes gleamed in the condensing darkness of the strip bar. "Only if you perform a special number for me. Little Fox," she added with perverted tenderness. "Your wish is my command, my master," Mulder replied as he was taught to answer to all of his masters, even if they did have really large teeth. He sucked on the carrot in his nipple for the rest of the way to the hospital. In the hospital "That's alien fetus number five hundred and thirty five!" the nurse in blue, cotton scrubs that were made by Hanes, the company that makes underwear, exclaimed to Cancerman. Cancerman was too tired to reply - he was sweaty and exhausted, and he still had not even delivered the placenta yet. But he knew his lot in life: he was a baby factory and all the precious little aliens that he delivered were special to him. Number three hundred and two was especially important to him, though he couldn't remember why. Perhaps it was because the baby was born with leathery wings that reminded him of the angels he saw once as a little boy in a place... that place... that had a name... that his mother took him too... but now he couldn't remember it. He wanted to stay alert because the next fetus to be implanted inside of his thriving masculine uterus was going to be a totally special and exciting experiment. It would be a human baby only mixed with a tiny bit of alien genes to make it look gray and scrawny like the rest of the babies. And only he knew just whose DNAs were used to create that fetus. Mulder and Scully. Obviously. The seed of life was implanted and he felt it grow. Thanks to alien technology, it only took thirty seconds for the babies to develop. And as they popped out of him, all slimy and smiling and so tiny and cute, he felt the joy that only a proud father could feel only if he was also a mother and fertile like a farm. The fetus inside of him was growing and acquiring human shape only with the big black eyes and scabby ugly skin of an alien. And it would have Scully's beautiful red hair inside of its bald head and Mulder's testicles inside of his shriveled alien scrotum. So when it started scratching inside of his uterus with its long black nails, he prepared to push, gently, with a lot of love and tenderness. Because number five hundred and thirty six would be his greatest achievement yet. He would name him... Mini-Mulder. In another part of the hospital Scully wandered around the hospital hallways like a lost penguin in Africa. She ran into a vending machine, and she looked at its big bulk with a look of hope that would make even oatmeal cry. "Your wish is my command, my master," she said. But the vending machine said nothing, and Scully felt so much desperation being to build within her loins, and want to erupt like carrot flavored toothpaste. She walked around some more, meeting an IV pole. "Your wish is my command, my master," she greeted it again, her big blue eyes filled with trust and admiration. But the IV pole kept dripping unenthusiastically, and she felt the heartbreak and loss all over again, for she knew that it wasn't her friend either. She had amnesia, and if only she could remember what that word meant! She didn't know her name or who her friends were or who her masters were and she wondered why there was a big annoying carrot stuck inside of her nipple. So she tried asking everyone in sight for help because someone would really wish for something from her, and maybe take her home and make her a carrot salad or something equally healthy and carrot-like, like a Chunky Monkey ice-cream which had no carrots in it at all but she really liked the name for some reason. She thought that maybe it had some nice memories attached to it. She wove through the hospital like a drunkard, finally stopping at the maternity ward. Oh! These babies were butt ugly! Oh! But the baby on the furthest right had a... je ne sais quoi about it. She felt her heart melting like puddle of dirty ice in the springtime. It only proved her hypothesis that the heart was made of strawberry Jell-O. She pressed her hands against the glass, whispering to the tiny alien baby, wishing nothing more than to spoon it against her body. Suddenly! A flash of memories assaulted her like a thousand steak knives piercing the balls of her feet. The psychotic connection that she felt with this bald-headed entity was not an accident. She knew that she was his mother! She could feel it inside her heart as surely as a bunny feels the approach of Easter. She tucked her pierced nipple away inside of her modestly revealing bra and started to hit the glass with all the formidable weight of her body. And as the glass shattered and the alien nursemaids ran screaming to save their spawn and all the mothers and fathers ran to collect their tiny bundles of unearthly joy, she reached out for the one baby that she wanted so. But at this moment, someone's strong hands pulled her back from the baby and she screamed and screamed as if her nail polish was being torn into little pieces. "Dana, oh my Chunky Monkey," Mulder said spooning her against his sweaty G-string-clad body. "I came here to find you!" Scully began kissing Mulder, which was awkward because there were two carrots in the way. Mulder returned the kisses, adding some tongue, as if he was stranded on a desert, dying of thirst, and the back of Scully's throat was an oasis of water. Their visions clouded in a scene of cosmic proportions, and each could feel the beating of their hearts and the undulations of their gastric systems. They were so horny. Meanwhile: The evil woman that was creeping in carefully like a Bride of Frankenstein was named Diana Fowley and she had evil intentions. Obviously. Her claws reached for the tiny alien baby that was frolicking in its little cradle but God it stunk like piss! She knew that she just had to change him before she did anything evil with it like abducting it, conducting medical experiments on it, or breast feeding it. She reached for the specially made alien diapers, which were so strong that NASA used them as glue. She took off the old diaper, throwing it in the nearest available container, which just accidentally happened to be another alien baby lying peacefully in its cradle. Now there is something you have to know about alien babies. They're very vindictive even if they're five minutes old. So as Diana was trying to make sense of all the little claps and whistles that adorned the sky- gray fresh diaper, the vengeful little thing threw the smelly old diaper at her head! "Mmmmmmmmmmph!" Diana screamed. She could see nothing but puke-gray nothingness. She could smell nothing but the sour cream and onion smell of alien pee. She ran around the nursery, waving her hands in the air, trying to tear the diaper off her head. She could not breathe - surrounded only by the sour cream and onion smell. At least it wasn't ketchup. Alas, her hair was like construction paper, and the diaper was like glue - it preserved her face perfectly, like salt does for pickles. Diana died. Obviously. Scully and Mulder were kissing in the distance and were unaware of the mushroom cloud that bloomed just a few feet behind them as the evil witch finally perished in an arrogant self-alliance, sending up an earnest prayer for another evil life. The prayer was granted. Obviously. Meanwhile: Cancerman picked up the little alien that threw a diaper at Diana's head and rocked it gently against his bosom even though the evil thingy was still fuming and spitting black mucus. "Thank you, number four hundred and ninety-five! I will call you... Mini-Tumor!" The little baby was sort of impressed by the grand stature it was suddenly receiving and it calmed down, even accepting some carrot milk from the tiny bottle that Cancerman put to its lips with great care and love and understanding. He never realized that his true calling was being an old, chain-smoking mother. And all the years that he spent preparing for the alien colonization were worth every second spent with his black-eyed, black- mucus-spitting, black-nailed spawn. Meanwhile: After Mulder and Scully had spooned long enough to quench their hungry appetites, Scully heard a small mewing sound coming from the center of the nursery. She walked over to the tiny bed with the grace of a ballerina on roller- skates, and picked up the tiny figure. "Oh my booger bum, I think this little baby is ours. Look, he even has your testicles." Mulder cuddled up next to his Chunky Monkey, and snuggled close to his recently acquired offspring. "Oh look," he commented, examining the babies wristband. "His name is Mini-Mulder. That would make his full name Mini-Mulder Mulder." He sighed in complete bliss - of the non-sexual kind - he was saving the sexual kind for later. Scully was looking at him like a lioness looks at her husband lion playing with a baby lion in the places where lions live, like a zoo. Mulder looked down at his baby... why Mini-Mulder looked hungry. He knew there was only one thing he could do. Any father would do this for their child. He brought his son's hungry little mouth closer to his chest. "You want a carrot?" The End This is only our third story! Please send us feedback! We love to hear what you think! We love MSR! No, really! We love MSR! MSR rocks! ceruleanxf@hotmail.com and pinkus1013@hotmail.com