From: wyckoff@Boris.infomagic.com (Henry Wyckoff)
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: Fanfic: Cancerman + Scully?
Date: Sat, 18 May 1996 20:06:58 GMT
Cancerman + Scully?
An X-Files Relationship Short Story, or maybe the beginning
of a longer one... -- YOU decide
by Henry Wyckoff (wyckoff@Boris.infomagic.com)
fanfic page @ http://ag.arizona.edu/~wyckoff/fanfic.html
WARNING: This is a 'Cancerman + Scully' relationship story.
If the mere thought of it disgusts you, please continue
reading. :)
DISCLAIMER: The characters and situations of The X-Files
television program are the creations and property of Chris
Carter and Fox Broadcasting and have been used without
permission. No copyright infringement is intended.
N.B.: This story takes place before the X-Files episodes
begin -- by a few hours.
N.B.: I haven't seen the first episode, but I've managed
to put it together in bits and pieces. If there's
anything I'm assuming about the first episode
that's not right, I'd be happy to hear about it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was lunchtime at the University Medical Center, which
didn't mean that it was noon, but rather that the three
doctors had a few moments in between tasks. They sat at a
table together in the cafeteria, joking about everyday
things in their lives. After dealing with the stresses that
are involved with medicine -- even the medicine of
slaughtered corpses -- the last thing they wanted to do was
talk about business.
One was named Ulla Thorgensen, a visiting scholar from
Sweden, specializing in biotransformation of organic
chemicals in corpses. She had her hair tied into a severe
ponytail so precise that not a single hair was out of place,
and an expression that was just as severe. But at least she
knew how to laugh and relax.
The second was Brenda Davis, a specialist in entymology who
could determine the date and time of death by identifying
the number and types of insects eating up a corpse. One
would expect this type of specialist to be on the wacky
side, and she never disappointed anyone.
The third was Dana Scully, an FBI agent who hacked up
corpses for a living so that she could determine the manner
of death. It was what Brenda called 'overkill.' She was so
wacky that Dana never had the heart to beat her over the
head with a mallet. It would be like killing the town
clown.
At the moment, they were talking about the man who had just
entered Brenda's life.
"So tell us the details," pressed Ulla. She had spoken
English for so long that her accent was almost
indistinguishable from that of an educated Oxford graduate.
"What's he like?"
Brenda smiled, "He's a lunatic -- like me -- and he *really*
likes 'Attack of the Killer Tomatoes!'" Ulla and Dana
looked at one another with raised eyebrows. "But the good
thing is that he's stable. He owns the Bookstore Bohemian,
so I know he's not going to be working 'til 2 AM, like
Bill."
They all shook their heads. Bill was a lost cause.
Ulla smiled, "It looks like someone has his eye on you,
Dana."
Dana subtly scanned the room, but didn't find anything out
of the ordinary. "Who?"
Ulla's smile was even wider. "It's the old man over there
smoking a cigarette."
While the other two were snickering, Dana caught him out of
the side of her eye. It wasn't an 'old' man -- just an
'older' man. He was looking up at the ceiling as if he were
deep in thought, and smoked his cigarette with a great
degree of tension. Maybe it was his way of killing stress.
Dana shook her head, "That man's old enough to be my
father!"
The other two just smiled. Ulla looked at her watch, "I
have to get back."
A moment later, Dana was sitting by herself at the table.
She would have left too, except that she hadn't finished her
lunch, and didn't like food to go to waste. She'd finish
her sandwich and get back to work herself.
"Hello," said an older voice from beside her. It was the
cigarette smoker that she'd spotted a few moments before.
"Is this seat taken?"
"No, it isn't." She wanted to scream at him to get lost,
but she didn't have the heart to. He might have even had a
legitimate reason for walking over, and she at least owed
him the few moments it would take to hear whatever he might
have to say to her.
He sat down, and thankfully, he wasn't sucking on the cancer
stick. "I couldn't help but overhear your name. *You* are
Dr. Dana Scully?"
Her eyebrows raised, "Yes, I am."
"I would have come over before, but I saw that you were
already busy talking with some friends... I just wanted to
give you my sincere admiration for your work on the Pamela
case."
Dana smiled, "I'm flattered. Most everyone else criticized
me for 'using unorthodox techniques.'"
"...But you solved it, while your colleagues did not." His
smile was warm. "I must thank you for giving an old cynic
some fresh hope. I was beginning to fear that the next
generation of doctors would be worse than the last -- but
you've rid me of that fear."
Dana couldn't help but smile. He was a charming old man,
and she couldn't understand why she had such bad vibes about
him before.
He continued, "I was wondering if you'd like to take on a
job that will enable you to use those skills in a
challenging fashion."
"I might. What do you have in mind?"
"Have you heard of the X-Files?"
She shook her head.
"The X-Files are classified as any case that is unsolved,
and involves bizarre circumstances."
"Bizarre circumstances?"
"Inexplicable circumstances... You'll find out what I mean
if you choose to meet the individual currently working on
the project. His name is Fox Mulder."
Fox Mulder... That was certainly a well-known name. "So
*that's* what he's doing... I've heard a whole lot about
him."
The man stood up, "I have to leave now, but if you're
interested, perhaps we could talk about it over dinner?"
Scully nodded. "I'll be happy to."
"Good. I'll meet you after work."
Scully went her own way back to the morgue, but she did so
with a lighter step, and whistled. She hadn't whistled in a
long time. When she caught herself, she realized that she
was whistling to the tune of, 'I'm in the mood...'
To be continued?...
===========================================================================
From: wyckoff@Boris.infomagic.com (Henry Wyckoff)
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: Cancerman + Scully? (02/??) -- Fanfic
Date: Sun, 19 May 1996 03:01:40 GMT
Cancerman + Scully? -- Chapter 2
YOU decided -- this is a continuing story!
by Henry Wyckoff (wyckoff@Boris.infomagic.com)
fanfic page @ http://ag.arizona.edu/~wyckoff/fanfic.html
WARNING: This is a 'Cancerman + Scully' relationship story.
If the mere thought of it disgusts you, please continue
reading. :)
DISCLAIMER: The characters and situations of The X-Files
television program are the creations and property of Chris
Carter and Fox Broadcasting and have been used without
permission. No copyright infringement is intended.
N.B.: This story takes place before the X-Files episodes
begin -- by a few hours. Let me rephrase myself --
the story ends a few hours before the first episode
begins.
N.B.: I haven't seen the first episode, but I've managed
to put it together in bits and pieces. If there's
anything I'm assuming about the first episode
that's not right, I'd be happy to hear about it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Scully still felt that clean Zest feeling on her hands when
she left the morgue and met the smiling cigarette smoker in
the hallway. He was dressed impeccably and had a beaming
aura about him. Just looking at him cheered Scully enough
that she totally forgot all the gruesome details about her
recent task.
"You look dashing," he smiled, even though she was still
dressed in a clean-suit. She hadn't even taken off the
hair-covering.
Scully had to laugh at that one. "And you look charming."
She pulled off the plastic hair-covering, and her red hair
fell down in waves. Something occurred to her, "All this
time, and I never caught your name."
"It's Martin."
It wasn't too often that the government types introduced
themselves by their first names, but she didn't mind. He
was human, and that's what counted. Maybe she didn't mind
because she was so tired of working with faceless government
personnel. Seeing someone human was a breath of fresh air.
"Well, Martin, where do you want to go?"
"I know this great place that serves British food."
"British?" she raised her eyebrows. "You mean like broccoli
that you drink?"
Martin laughed, "Nothing that bad, but they do pour bree
across everything."
"I can live with that."
* * *
The Frog and Falcon was a place where people went to drink
first, and then to eat. Most of the college types hung out
here, and so the music was loud and 'alternative'. Because
the drink and food were pricey, however, it managed to keep
most of the undesirables out. The only one there who came
to drink for nonsocial reasons was an individual who managed
to clean out their weekly stock of Glenfiddich and Guinness
on a regular basis. He was known as the 'Bar Fixture,' and
had a reputation of coming up with ten creative ideas for
every occasion. The local saying around the bar was, "If
you're in need for a conversation or a career-saver, talk to
the Bar Fixture."
The two who walked into the place would have found that
saying quite useful, albeit for two totally different
reasons, but it was also a good thing that they didn't know
about this man, even though they walked right past him,
because this was a business date, and there's nothing more
embarrassing than having an obnoxious, drunken intellectual
butting into a conversation where he's not wanted.
The inside of the Frog was wooden and had a very 'old' look
to it, which made it quite charming. Half the place was
dominated by the bar, and the other half was filled with
tables for two. The bar had three shelves full of various
liquors, and in the corner, there was a quarter-barrel
filled with beer taps.
"Where do you want to sit?" asked Martin.
"How about there?" Scully pointed to the corner, where there
weren't too many people. It also happened to be on the
other side of the room from the Bar Fixture, though that
fact hadn't entered her mind at all.
Once they seated themselves, a tall man wearing a waiter's
apron stood at the side of the table, as if by magic. He
was quite bulky with fat and muscle, and had a thin goatee
on his face. "Welcome to the Frog and Falcon. My name is
Chris. How may I help you?"
Scully, who looked started at such excellent service -- and
didn't even have time to look at the menu, looked
uncertainly at Martin, who smiled, "We'll have a small
brussel sprout pizza with salads." Scully made a face, but
nobody seemed to notice it.
"And what would you like to drink?"
Scully was more certain in this department, "I'll have some
of that Apricot." She pointed at a flamboyant advertisement
hanging on the wall. The waiter nodded and wrote it down.
Martin pretended to think about it for a moment and said,
"I'll have a Screwdriver."
Now that they were settled, they were both silent for a
moment. Martin looked silent because it looked like he was
making sure he wanted to find the right thing to say; Scully
because she didn't know what to say.
Martin finally spoke, "I always wanted to ask you one
thing."
"What?"
"Why it is that you decided that the cause of Thomas
Draker's death was contact poison."
Scully seemed a bit startled that he'd ask her a question
like that -- instead of telling her something about the job
he wanted her to do. //Maybe he wants to make sure...//
"Well," she began, reviewing everything in her mind, "it
seemed to me that the overall scene was too pat, so I tried
looking for the simple explanations..."
A few moments passed, and the drinks arrived. Scully took a
sip of her Apricot ale and made a sound of absolute
contentment, "This is *wonderful*."
"So is this," he smiled, holding up the Screwdriver. "It
tastes just like orange juice."
Scully stared at him for a few moments with her jaw dropped,
and then burst out laughing. It took her a few more moments
to get all the laughing out of her system, and when they
continued their earlier discussion about the Draker case,
the job wasn't even in her mind.
The brussel sprout pizza came, and the shock of that --
along with another two pints of ale -- put her whole being
into 'relax' mode, and it felt good. The stress of the last
few months vanished from her nervous system. She even
allowed herself to enjoy the pizza, once she got past the
brussel sprouts.
This relaxation was a very relaxing drug.
Everything was funny -- the current events, Martin's jokes,
and even their waiter. As time passed, Scully found it
harder and harder to stop laughing.
That enjoyment, however, came to an abrupt end. It must
have been after pizza number two and pint number four when
Scully looked at her watch by chance. "It's late, and I'd
better be getting back!" She tried to stand up, and
couldn't quite do it. "That must be some strong stuff," she
giggled softly.
Martin smiled without any hint of embarrassment or
intolerance. "Let me help you." He held out his arm and
helped her up. Scully wasn't just unsteady -- she was
sloshed. "I think I'd better drive you home."
The bartender winked at him as they walked past, but other
than that, nobody seemed to notice anything unusual -- or
anything worth staring at.
The Pontiac wasn't all that far away, but even so, Scully
was glad to have a seat. A few moments later, they were
driving to her place. She must have passed out for a few
moments, because the next thing she knew, they were at her
front door. It never occurred to her that she only drank
four pints -- it never crossed her mind that she could have
sipped one of those 'special' drinks.
"So soon?" she asked drowsily.
"You were asleep, but I have your business card, so I knew
where to go." His look was one of genuine concern. "Are
you sure you're going to be all right?"
"I'm sorry," she said then, her expression a bit downcast.
His look was blunt in a kind sort of way, "You have nothing
to be sorry for. You've had a hard few months, and you
needed to relax and enjoy yourself. Why should you
apologize for that?"
She impulsively kissed him on the cheek, her eyes ever more
tender, "You're right. Thanks."
With difficulty, she unlocked her door, and on entering
almost broke her neck tripping on the floor. Martin let
himself in, "I don't think I should leave yet." He helped
her back up, and she leaned on him. The strength had almost
completely left her legs.
"Thanks," she slurred, her eyes half-open. "I think I
*could* use some help." He closed the door and helped her
walk to her bedroom, where she promptly collapsed on the
bed.
She wasn't quite asleep, however. "You're a perfect
gentleman."
He smiled, "I try to be. If you need any help, you can give
me a call." His look was very fatherly.
Just as he turned around, Scully said, "Wait. Don't go."
===========================================================================
From: wyckoff@Boris.infomagic.com (Henry Wyckoff)
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: Cancerman + Scully? (03/??) -- Fanfic, XF Posting
Date: Sun, 19 May 1996 18:53:10 GMT
Cancerman + Scully? -- Chapter 3
YOU decided -- this is a continuing story!
by Henry Wyckoff (wyckoff@Boris.infomagic.com)
fanfic page @ http://ag.arizona.edu/~wyckoff/fanfic.html
WARNING: This is a 'Cancerman + Scully' relationship story.
If the mere thought of it disgusts you, please continue
reading. :)
DISCLAIMER: The characters and situations of The X-Files
television program are the creations and property of Chris
Carter and Fox Broadcasting and have been used without
permission. No copyright infringement is intended.
N.B.: This story takes place before the X-Files episodes
begin -- by a few hours. Let me rephrase myself
-- the story ends a few hours before the first
episode begins.
N.B.: I haven't seen the first episode, but I've managed
to put it together in bits and pieces. If there's
anything I'm assuming about the first episode
that's not right, I'd be happy to hear about it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Martin looked down at Scully from where he stood a few feet
away. Only a small sliver of moonlight sliced through the
darkness of the room. It lit her face from below, and made
it look almost like the face of a monster. It was bad
enough as it was -- the hangover coursing through her whole
body was something that he didn't envy. He no longer had
hangovers, but he could remember them from those long years
of conditioning his liver.
He came back to her side, "How are you feeling?"
She grimaced, "I don't feel so good."
He smiled, "I have a home remedy. I'll be back in a
moment."
She could hear the sounds of water running in the kitchen,
and a cupboard shutting. When he came back a few moments
later, he had a tall cup of water in his hand. "It'll taste
pretty awful, but you'll feel a whole lot better."
"What is it?"
He put a finger to his lips, lips that were grinning
mischievously, "Trade secret. Can't tell you. Just drink
it."
She made a face as she drank it, "It tastes like baking
soda!"
"And it'll taste worse as it goes down. Drink the rest of
it."
She did, and he took the glass from her. "Good girl.
You'll feel it almost immediately."
Scully smiled dreamily, "I... do..."
He kissed her on the cheek, "Try to get some sleep. I'll be
here if you need anything."
She looked as if she would say something, but soon closed
her eyes...
...Scully woke up in her dream. She stood in a raging
inferno with erupting volcanoes and forest fires.
A single individual emerged from the burning forests. It
was a dream character she remembered very well. It was a
man she never met, and never reminded her of anyone in life.
His face was full of rage as he charged towards her,
grabbing by the shoulders and slamming her against a tree.
"What in God's name have you done?!" he roared. "You've
destroyed the Dreamscape!"
"I- I- don't know what you're talking about!" protested
Scully.
He let her go with a snort, pacing back and forth. "This is
your dream, and you don't know why this is happening!" He
spit on the ground. "You're pathetic."
"I don't even know what's going on here!" she protested.
He looked at her straight in the eye, "You mean you don't
remember..."
...Scully woke up from her dream, but didn't remember it.
All she knew was that she was so tired that she wanted to go
back to sleep. The clock said 3:12, she noted. //Good.//
Then she noticed that Martin sat on a chair next to the head
of the bed. He was asleep, and didn't snore, which she
thought was a miracle. The expression on his face was
troubled, and his hand would twitch occasionally.
//God. He shouldn't have to sleep like that!//
She shook him awake. Martin's eyes snapped open, and he
looked around nervously.
"It's o.k.," she murmured. "Why don't you sleep here on the
bed? You shouldn't have to sleep in a chair."
"That sounds like a good idea," he smiled. He pulled off
his jacket, which he hadn't yet done, and climbed onto the
bed as Scully made room for him.
They were both so exhausted that they immediately fell
asleep, but not so immediately that Martin couldn't put an
arm around Scully's shoulders, and that Scully couldn't
burrow into Martin.
The last thought she had in her mind before she returned to
sleep was that he smelled so pleasant -- the smell of
cigarettes was quite comforting, in fact.
Scully's sleeping face had a pleasant smile, even though her
dreamworld was in flames.
===========================================================================
From: wyckoff@Boris.infomagic.com (Henry Wyckoff)
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: Cancerman + Scully? (04/04) -- Fanfic
Date: Mon, 20 May 1996 03:40:07 GMT
Cancerman + Scully? -- Chapter 4
The last chapter of a story that shocked the net.
by Henry Wyckoff (wyckoff@Boris.infomagic.com)
fanfic page @ http://ag.arizona.edu/~wyckoff/fanfic.html
WARNING: This is a 'Cancerman + Scully' relationship story.
If the mere thought of it disgusts you, please continue
reading. :)
DISCLAIMER: The characters and situations of The X-Files
television program are the creations and property of Chris
Carter and Fox Broadcasting and have been used without
permission. No copyright infringement is intended.
N.B.: The story ends a few hours before the first
episode begins.
N.B.: I haven't seen the first episode, but I've managed
to put it together in bits and pieces. If there's
anything I'm assuming about the first episode
that's not right, I'd be happy to hear about it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Scully woke up to the smell of eggs, sausage, and pancake
mix. It smelled wonderful. Her eyes opened then because it
suddenly occurred to her that she didn't have any of that in
her kitchen.
The clock said 5:30, and the faint glow of dawn told her
that it was A.M. She closed her eyes for a brief moment.
//What the hell is going on?// It took a few moments for
everything to sink back in. The bits and pieces of last
night fell together until she could replay everything that
happened.
A sudden understanding came to her then. She should be in
horrible pain. She should be praying to the porcelain
throne. There was no pain. She felt like she had a week's
worth of sleep. //No wonder Martin's cure 's a secret. If
the bars found out about that, they'd be selling twice as
much beer...//
When she stood up, she realized that she wore the same
clothes that she had last night. She'd have to do something
about that, but later.
Somehow, the sight of seeing Martin cooking breakfast --
quite well, in fact -- was an odd one. Maybe the inner
image of him as an immaculate government type made it seem
so odd. Whatever the reason, she had to fight hard to keep
from giggling.
He was flipping the pancakes like a pro, and had already
served delicious-looking eggs and sausage on two plates.
Some orange juice was already poured.
The look on his face was a lot more peaceful than it was
last night as he slept on the chair. It was not only
relaxed, but still releasing tension.
"Good morning," he said, turning towards her with a gentle
smile. "Are you feeling better?"
"Better than I felt in my life. Whatever that stuff was, it
sure worked."
His smile was a more knowing one this time.
"You're a good cook," she smiled, leaning against one of the
counters.
"You haven't even tried it yet."
It only took another minute until breakfast was served, and
Scully had to admit that Martin was right. She didn't even
know how good it was until she took her first bite. "This
is incredible! What are this pancakes made out of?"
He made a guilty face, "Would you believe... a family
secret?"
"I'd sure love to meet your family, if you have any more
secrets like this!"
"I have many... secrets." Another few moments of silence
passed, "There's something else on your mind besides your
work, isn't there?"
Her look was one of shock, and she tried to hide it, but she
gave in. "I've been having the most horrible dreams lately.
Normally, I'm not one to have them."
His eyebrows lit up, "Really? What kind of nightmares?"
She made a face, but another bite of pancake made it less
severe. "I dream that everything I've known and been has
turned into an inferno, and this one person I know I've met
before is fighting himself to keep from killing me. He
always screams, 'What have you done?!' And then it ends."
"Inferno? Really? So you're in hell?"
The more she thinks about it, the more she decides that
wasn't the case. "No. For some reason, I'm in Toronto.
I'm standing next to an abandoned factory, and there are
others that I don't recognize." Details began to return.
"I think I was mad at one of them because one of his
decisions almost led to the death of my partner."
Her eyes became focused as most of the details of that dream
fell into place. "I know now. My partner and I went to
Toronto because of a crazy lead he was following. I don't
know what it was, but I seem to remember that it was crazy.
He got taken, and I got help finding him. ...I don't know
how, but the phone company was somehow involved." She shook
her head quickly, as if to shake something off her head.
"Anyway, I had help rescuing him, and that's when everything
erupted into an inferno."
Martin nodded thoughtfully. "Are you feeling regrets about
anything in your life?"
She frowned, "Not particularly. I can't think of anything
bad going on."
He smiled, "Let me show you something that helped me when I
once had horrible dreams." He pulled out a glimmering
necklace with a multifaceted crystal. It was real, and not
synthetic. "Look at it, and tell me if you see it."
She looked intently at it, her pupils contracting. "See
what?..."
"You'll know." His grin was tight. When she entered that
'other' state, it was quite obvious. "Dana. I want you to
pay very special attention to what I am about to say.
"First, you will forget your dreams. Your dreams will
occur, as they must, but you won't remember them. Ever. As
far as you know, you don't ever recall your dreams or
nightmares.
"Second, you will forget about me. Totally. You never saw
me. You don't remember me.
"Third, whenever I hold your left hand with my right hand,
and ask the question, 'Do you remember the Frog and Falcon?'
You will enter this state of hypnosis immediately, without
question.
"Fourth, you will accept the X-Files assignment. You *want*
to do it, and you will tolerate all of Agent Mulder's quirks
and aggravations, although you will react to them as you
normally would. No matter how tough things get, you will
show your natural responses, but you will *never* walk out
on him for more than a few days.
"Fifth, all of my previous commands will be a shell that I
reserve the right to erase. If I do that, you will return
in your mind to two days ago, and anything that would have
occurred after that point in time will be erased. It will
be as if we had never met.
"Repeat your instructions."
Scully did so.
"Excellent," smiled Martin. "Count slowly to 100 when I
command you to. When you reach that number, you will come
back to normal consciousness, clean up, and get ready for
another day at work. Your only memories of last night will
be that you met an older man who wanted to have dinner with
you and discuss your previous casework. You got drunk and
forgot everything else in an alcohol haze. You will account
for the second set of dishes by 'remembering' that you
thought that a friend would come by, and didn't.
"Begin counting."
Martin left Scully, nodding somberly as he shut the door
behind him.
As he drove off towards the FBI headquarters, he couldn't
help but reflect on the last evening. While Scully had
slept, he had spent much of the night hard at work. And it
worked, apparently. Now, all he had to do was wait for the
seeds to germinate.
All it took was time and patience... and maybe a little
guidance now and then.
A hint of guilt stabbed at his heart. As he remembered last
night, he realized that this wasn't just another job. She
was young enough to be his daughter, but somehow, she had
affected him greatly. He wanted to slam on the brakes, turn
around, and erase everything he did... All the plans he had
made for her. He wanted to apologize for everything and beg
for her forgiveness, and hope that things would go well from
there.
He lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. "No. It just
wouldn't work. The plan continues."
The guilt was gone with a puff of the cigarette.
Funny thing, those cigarettes. You never know what's in
them or what they'll do. The one thing that Martin never
knew was that he never had to pay for a single cigarette.
It never entered his mind.
===========================================================
This does it. I know, some of you were probably expecting
some NC-17 scenes, but that just wasn't in the cards. But
who knows, since I broke the dam, there will be other fanfic
authors who would like to take the torch from my fingers
and write even more daring relationship stories between
Cancerman and Scully.
If any of you do decide to take up the torch, feel free to
give me an e-mail, so I can be sure to catch it. :) :)
Any questions or debates can be sent to my e-mail address.
Fuzzy flames with happy faces are accepted, but not evil flames
with pitchforks.
This piece of quality programming has been brought to you by the
letters 's', 'i', 'c', and 'k', with additional support from the
letter 'o'.
Have a nice day.
Proud conqueror of the letter 'i'.
(
geocities.com/area51/portal/1720) (
geocities.com/area51/portal) (
geocities.com/area51)