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The Area and the X-Files
The power of The Area is investigated by Mulder and Scully
 in this hilarious episode written by HMFEELYAT from livejournal.com.
Original entry found here and the 2nd entry here.
 Thanks for letting us post this to our site!

            



Part One


(Agents Fox Mulder and Dana Scully are chasing a monstrous, shadowy figure through an abandoned warehouse. They drive the “thing” around a corner and into a huge pile of empty boxes. The creature falls, and Mulder dives onto it. Out of breath, he turns to Scully.)

Mulder: NOW do you believe me?

Scully: No, Mulder.

Mulder: And why not?

Scully: Because your monster appears to have a zipper in the back of his head. (she shines her flashlight on comically large metal zipper at the base of the monster’s neck)

(Mulder looks back to his monster and sees it.)

Mulder: …That could be a spine protrusion.

Scully: No it couldn’t!

(Scully pushes Mulder aside and unzips the “monster’s” head. She peels the mask off only to reveal a small, bug-eyed man who seems far more frightened than they are.)

Scully: See? It’s just Don Knotts.

(She and Mulder help poor Don Knotts up and dust him off.)

Scully: Now scoot, you. You’ve got no business being in an abandoned warehouse.

Don: But all I wanted to do was scare off snooping kids like you!

Mulder: Um, Scully?

Scully: Not now, Mulder. (she turns back to Don Knotts) Nobody likes a guy who keeps an old warehouse all to himself, and you certainly don’t solve a problem by dressing up as a monster. I hope you learned a lesson today.

Mulder: SCULLY…

Scully: What?

Mulder: Don Knotts died a few months ago.

(They both look to Don Knotts in terror. The weird little man is now flashing them a creepy grin)

Don Knotts: Try pulling THIS mask off, bitches! Oh, SNAP! (he suddenly turns into a disgusting, 8-eyed beast a la Large Marge, and disappears into thin air. Scully is dumbfounded)

Mulder: Did Don Knotts just call me a bitch?

Scully: I…he…where’d he go? What did he just…?

Mulder: You going to faint here or in the car?

Scully: That’s impossible—he got…got big and--and just vanished. I—but…

Mulder: That’s because he’s a ghost, Scully. You have just seen a ghost.

Scully: But…but how on earth—No. No, he had a special effects crew behind him. Yes. And…and um. Um…a fully functioning claymation studio…(she turns very pale)

Mulder: Listen to me, Dana. The ghost of a nervous little comedian just “oh snap”ed at you. If you need more proof than that to believe, I’d be happy to shoot myself, die, come back as a glowing ball of ectoplasm, root through your underwear drawer, and start flinging lingerie at your head.

(Mulder pauses for a moment and fantasizes about the proposed foray into Scully’s underwear drawer. Scully faints.)

Mulder: Yeah, my bet was on “here”, too.

(A week later, both agents are in Mulder’s basement office. Mulder is sitting at his desk, looking at pictures. Scully is standing over him, studying the pictures over his shoulder.)

Mulder: So, Scully, wanna go for this week’s X File?

Scully: You know, I would, but I’m still trying to figure out what to write in my report for last week’s…

Mulder: You could always chock Barney Fife up to swamp gas, just like every other report…

Scully: That’s not every report! That’s just half of them.

Mulder: (In the best falsetto girl voice he can muster) “Agent Mulder and I encountered some swamp gas in an abandoned factory last week. Mulder offered to inspect my underwear drawer, and I totally let him…”

Scully: (scowls) You know, you keep pushing that idea. And I keep shooting it down. Shall we explore why together? (She looks back to the pictures that she and Mulder have been studying) So, why again are we looking at pictures of David Bowie? …More specifically, pictures of him in tight pants?

Mulder: That’s the next case, Dear Scully.

(Scully rubs the bridge of her nose and sighs)

Mulder: You, uh, need some aleve there, Scully?

Part 2

Well. Why WERE they looking at David Bowie tight pants pictures?

*In our last episode, Mulder had started studying pictures of David Bowie. Scully joined in, and questioned it. Let's see how the rest unfolds!*

(Agents Mulder and Scully are in Mulder's office, looking at various photographs of one Mr. Ziggy Stardust.)




Mulder: You’ve seen “Labyrinth”, yes?

Scully: I have.

Mulder: I’ve been keeping tabs on stories from cities all over the world. It seems that whenever David Bowie appears on camera in those Goblin King tights, strange things happen.

Scully: What kind of strange things?

Mulder: Clocks stopping, babies ceasing to cry, electricity shutting off, amputees growing new limbs, low-income ramen and spam dinners turning into fine Tuscan pasta dishes, meteor showers… the list goes on. It doesn’t stop with his movies, either. Last year at one of his concerts in England, the entire audience caught fire—but nobody had a burn on their body. After putting them out, firemen stated that every single member of the audience had turned inexplicably SEXY.

Scully: So, where’s that aleve?

Mulder: And Scully, really, has that guy aged ONCE since the 70s?

Scully: Assuming. ASSUMING…that these stories are credible in any way, then why hasn’t this stuff been happening since his debut? Why didn’t, say, his first album, his first concert, spark strange events?

Mulder: They did, but they happened very infrequently. Bowie’s powers seem to mirror that of global warming. Suddenly, it’s all speeding up. I wanna find out why.

Scully: You know…I’ve asked you this maybe 50 times in all the years I’ve known you. Is there anything you don’t believe in?

Mulder: Uh…corporation outsourcing.

Scully: (glares at Mulder) Let me see your gun for a second.

Mulder: No!

Scully: So what are you planning to do, exactly? Go up to David Bowie and ask him to kindly stop corrupting the masses with his…um, pants?

Mulder: I didn’t say he should stop.

Scully: Of course you didn’t.

Mulder: I’m not going to be going to him, Scully. He’ll come to me.

(He gets up, walks to the opposite side of the room, and flicks a switch on the wall. Scully joins him and looks out the window only to see a searchlight in the sky flashing the words “ZIGGY STARDUST”.)

Scully: This. Is. Ludicrous.

(There’s a knock at the door)

Mulder: Is it? (he walks over to the door and opens it. I steps none other than Ziggy Stardust himself. Scully is, of course, wide-eyed.)

David Bowie: You rang?

Mulder: (to Scully) Army Surplus Bowie signal. Only 50 bucks!

Scully: Mr. …Bowie?

David Bowie: (puts his finger to Scully’s lips) Oh, baby…just you…shut your mouth. (He struts over to Mulder’s desk and sits on it. Suddenly, the entire desk turns into a leopard print couch.)

David Bowie: Could I trouble one of you for a DIRTY martini?

Scully: (somewhat entranced and staring blankly into space) Mar…ti…ni…

Mulder: I think I have a zima in here somewhere.

David Bowie: You want to a few answers, Hmm, Fox?

Mulder: Could you just keep it to “Mulder”?

David Bowie: I shall address you as I see fit, mortal. Now, then, I am prepared to answer. About my glorious region…

Scully: (still entranced) Yes…glorious…

David Bowie: Long ago, when I was just a boy in 1420s England, a sorcerer told me that my real father had been a wayward Pixie, and had gotten my mother, a witch, very drunk. As witches were not allowed pixie consorts, she was forced to leave my father and instead marry the village Moron, Beltsander. The sorcerer told me that I was to inherit all the powers of the earth and thus become GOD. However, the sorcerer was off a little on the prediction, and I ended up getting the powers of god…in my crotch.

(Just then, AD Skinner comes barging in. He is furious.)

Skinner: Agents Mulder and Scully, I hoped this morning that I would not have to remind you two of the very important meeting in MY office going on RIGHT NOW, but I guess I do have to—um…(his expression turns from violent to perplexed as his eyes land on the rockstar and couch) That, um, wow…

David Bowie: How dare you interrupt me, FOOL! (Bowie gyrates at Skinner, and poor Skinner’s clothing disappears.)

(Skinner looks down at himself, to David Bowie, to Scully still fixated on Bowie’s “region”, and to Mulder, who has taken himself up on his zima offer)

Skinner: Well, I can see you’re all busy. And Scully’s catatonic. I’m going to leave you alone now…for a long time. (He grabs a piece of paper from one of Mulder’s giant, messy piles of junk, arranges it as temporary underwear, and makes an astonishingly quick exit.)

Mulder: Moving on, what is it that is accelerating your powers? Is it anything to do with global warming? Is it fulfilling a prophecy?

David Bowie: No. It’s just fun, and I’m doing it more. I believe it benefits your puny human race. I mean, I used these voodoo crotch powers in the 70s in front of a group of mild-mannered librarians. They became Parliament Funkadelic. (looks down) Uh, Ms. Scully, dahling, you can look in other directions, if you wish.

Scully: Can’t…

Mulder: I’m going to love hearing her explanation for this.

David Bowie: Well, if I’ve explained myself accordingly, I should like to get back to the wife so we can continue producing genetically superior Superchildren. Oh, I suppose you’ll want your desk back the way it was? (he motions to the leopard print couch)

Mulder: You know, not so much. Can you conjur up a ceiling mirror to go with it?

David Bowie: Your office isn’t THAT out of the way. (he disappears in a puff of red smoke)

(Scully jolts back to complete awareness suddenly. She looks around, notices the leopard print couch, and grabs the zima out of Mulder’s hand. She guzzles the drink.)

Mulder: No ceiling mirror. Psshhhh.





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