"I suppose you'll want me to examine the body?"
"You have to ask? It's a landmark discovery, Scully!"
"Right. I'd say there's no need for a full autopsy—a visual examination should
suffice. Let's see. Remnants of a small explosive devise that was implanted
within the chest cavity. When it was activated the explosion ruptured the body,
scattering this internal matter which appears to be...synthetic fiber.
Stuffing."
"So this animal's guts must have been reconfigured on a molecular level prior to
detonation. That would require very advanced technology. Brace yourself, Scully,
I'm beginning to suspect that the unsub may have ties to the alien conspiracy."
"I wonder if the reconfiguration was carried out before or after he attached
this 'Woodsy Pals Plush Toys' label to the body."
"Here, let me see. That has to be the most cleverly disguised abductee
identification marker/tracking device I've ever encountered! I'd say that
confirms the extra-terrestrial connection. This case gets more complex all the
time!"
"Definitely the product of twisted minds. Mulder, maybe you should stop bending
over. Do you realize that there's a huge hole in the seat of your pants?"
"Something strikes me as unusual about this autopsy."
"Oh really?"
"Yeah, you've stopped using your tape recorder. When did that happen?"
"The fewer records of this case the better."
"The crimes of the Nursery Rhyme Killer can't be swept under the carpet by you
or anyone!"
"What crimes? Toy abuse? Littering?"
"You know, we're really going to have to discuss this cynical attitude you've
been developing lately. It's unhealthy and unproductive."
"I'm unproductive? You're the one who insists on pursuing this wild goose
chase. Let me tell you that I have some serious issues with the direction you've
been leading this department in ever since your new source exposed himself to
you—forgive the pun."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Take the dress code, for instance—what are you doing in those clothes? Do you
really feel they're befitting of an agent on duty?"
"My source left them for me. He recommended I wear them to blend in better."
"Blend into what? There's nothing out here."
"Precisely. We're way out in the back of beyond, ergo I'm disguised as a hiker.
Worn casual clothes are part of my cover."
"Skin tight jeans torn in a lot of the places you'd most like protected as you
tramp through the bush and a chain harness? Nobody hikes in that."
"It's the 'urban rustic' look."
"It's the fetish look."
"You'll be glad of my specialty gear if we have to do any hazardous rock
climbing. The chains can be used to link us together. I can swing them to fight
off ferocious animals, too."
"Uh sure, Mulder. And while you're pulling that thing off and trying to swing it
around I think I'll just shoot the animal with my sidearm."
"Fine, if you want to be all citified about it."
"Fortunately, the area looks pretty short on rock climbing and beast slaying
opportunities. I'm unaware of any deadly predators that routinely prowl small
orchards ringed by idyllic grassy rolling hills."
"I dunno—there could be a hive of killer bees in one of these cherry trees."
"You'd better hope not. Couldn't you at least have worn something underneath
those things?"
"Don't be ridiculous. Think of what an embarrassment it would be if I were
wandering around with my underwear on display. I mean really, Scully, we're FBI
agents ."
"How silly of me. So tell me, how does your Bureau suit wearing partner fit into
the covert operation you're spearheading?"
"We don't have time for chit chat right now. There's a crime scene to
investigate. Look there! As I expected, the perp left the signature mark of our
guy—a note with a verse of rhyme. It says: 'all around the mulberry bush the
monkey chased the weasel, the monkey thought t'was all in fun—Pop! Goes the
weasel.' Another rhyme fiendishly reconstructed with tragic results. That potted
plant beside the carcass must be the mulberry bush."
"No, that's a fern."
"I think we can read in 'mulberry bush'."
"Why not? We're already manufacturing the rest of this case."
"Hmm...it looks as though the monkey has fled the scene. Oh well, interrogation
would have been a challenge, and the note suggests that he acted without intent—"
"The monkey doesn't exist."
"Scully, I think you've let your skepticism get out of hand. The monkey is a
well established fact. It says so in Encyclopedia Brittanica and everything."
"You're enjoying yourself, aren't you?"
"I would never take pleasure in a co-worker's breakdown. Although...it really
is about time for someone else to get put away for a change. Fair's fair. But
don't worry, I'll visit and bring magazines."
"I'm going to kill you."
"Better keep that hostility under wraps when you're in front of the hospital
review board. Listen to the voice of experience."
" This monkey doesn't exist. The monkey you were referring to from the rhyme.
Neither does the so called 'killer' we're after."
"Call him whatever you want, obviously someone is committing these crimes."
"What crimes?"
"The ones we're in the process of investigating—or would be if you could
manage to stay focused."
"We have no evidence of any deaths. No organic bodies or witnesses. No reason
to believe there have been any other major offences committed or the
intervention of extraordinary forces. Thus, no excuse for following this trail
of breadcrumbs all over the country."
"The circumstantial evidence has been tremendous."
"All we found at the last location was a half-eaten bowl of cottage cheese and
the squished remains of a harmless variety of spider. Admit it, this is a waste
of Bureau resources."
"You're forgetting the significant absence of the girl involved—the terrified
missing girl whose emotional equilibrium fell victim to this mad man."
"Allegedly. Outside of the poem, the only sign that there might have been a
girl was a few footprints. Even if it were true, giving someone a small scare
does not constitute a federal crime."
"But the importance of the peripheral findings alone justify our involvement.
Just think, we solved the age old question of what a 'tuffet' is."
"Hmm, yes. Looked remarkably like a spanking bench."
"I'm sure it has many purposes."
"I guess you'd know. You and your 'contact' disappeared with it for long enough.
The parity achieved was quite impressive, really. Neither one of you could sit
down without wincing for hours afterwards. I'd have thought the missing arm
would have put him at a disadvantage there."
"You'd be surprised."
"Not anymore."
"It's important to examine evidence thoroughly. As a profiler it helps me to get
into the mind of the perpetrator."
"The handy thing about having someone standing right next to you is that you can
just turn around and ask for his thoughts direct."
"Am I to understand that you are actually accusing my informant after all the
help he's given us? I'm ashamed of you. What possible motivation could he have
for misleading us in such a way?"
"Come on, Mulder, he hasn't even bothered staging this well. And he's hardly
been subtle about his motives. The first place he had us go to was a San
Francisco nightclub called 'The Manhole'. Your disguise for that one was a
fireman uniform as I recall."
"Are you going somewhere with this?"
"All just to find a cracked pie crust scattered with some black feathers. Next
were the three bags of wool at the hot springs spa with you in that red rubber
get up."
"That was a break through, I could feel it."
"Evidently, since you decided to hold a celebration—for the two of you."
"You were invited."
"Yes, and I waited at that café for two hours."
"Er, something came up." [Sigh.] "A few times."
"Speaking of which, you're paying to have that bucar cleaned out and explaining
the expense to Skinner."
"So much for partners standing together."
"After seeing that car there's no way I'd stand near you without a splash guard
in place. Following on the heels of that memorable trip, there was the Little
Miss Muffet affair. At least you wore a normal suit for that one. I'm not going
to ask what you put on underneath that had you walking so funny."
"Just as well, that equipment is still classified information."
"And now here we are, arguing amid rows of blooming cherry trees in a picture of
pastoral paradise...most remarkable for what appears to be Alex Krycek lying
naked on a picnic blanket not 50 yards away."
"Getting crumbs in your clothes can be a real nuisance. You know, I'd better go
see if he has anything for me."
"Sure looks like it from here."
"Huh? Erm, Scully, while I'm taking care of this, don't you think that those
remains call for a detailed lab analysis? You know, at the coroner's office?"
"No, but don't worry I'll meet you back at the motel. I think I'll check out the
cocktail selection at the bar."
"Great, that's great. See you later."
"Mulder. Mulder, look at me! For my own piece of mind answer me one question
before you go. Do you actually believe any of the bullshit you've been
spouting?"
"Scully, I know I've already given you most of my arguments against insisting on
adherence to a strict scientific model in all situations, but I think there's
another one you should hear: sometimes it gets in the way of an incredible lay.
Now if you'll excuse me I have a celebration to join."
Pop Goes the Weasel
by Goblin McGee
"Spontaneous weasel combustion."
