|
Bending the Truth
Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully aren't mine, I borrowed them from Chris Carter,1013 and 20th Century Fox for my own amusement with no intent to profit. The other characters introduced in this story aren't mine either, and mention of their names will not earn me a penny. ************ "So this is my reward for fighting the future." He looked down at his crisply pressed pants and kicked a wastebasket nearby with his neatly shined shoes. A hollow ping greeted his efforts. "I literally went to the end of the earth to save her. I snatched her from the jaws of death when I pulled her from the alien cryo pod and injected her with the vaccine - but I can't save her from this fate. Hell, I don't even have a goddamn gun anymore." He tried to flop himself down in resignation on a nearby chair, but his knees wouldn't bend. He settled for leaning against the extended hospital stretcher parked just outside the hallway. He tried to push the memories of the previous night out of his mind, but the assortment of women's clothes and shoes around him would not allow a mental escape. *********** She was so ... cold. Her features were set into a hardened pout that was a mixture of skepticism and disgust. Was it me? Why did I try to kiss her, damn it? What the hell was I thinking? He could see her body in the next room, lying prostrate on a stretcher similar to the one he was leaning on. Her neck was contorted into an unnatural pose. Masochistically, he forced himself to remember more details. I should have stopped myself when I awkwardly reached up to run my fingers through her hair. Hell, even her hair seemed to repel my touch, but I didn't read her body language that was screaming for me to keep my hands to myself. I was thinking about nothing else but kissing her, like I was the day the bee stung her. My lips partly puckered, I zeroed in on my target. Instead of kissing, our foreheads bumped together with an audible smack. I was waiting for her to say something, but her eyes, so unnaturally blue, just stared at me, questioning. I tried to give her one of my trademark grins, the one that always seems to melt her facade, but my face felt frozen and expressionless. Instead, almost as if they were being directed by the hands of a third party, my arms reached for the lapels of her suit. My fingers, bent almost artificially into what my father called trigger fingers, fumbled towards her covered bosom. Then she kicked me. She kicked me really hard, and I didn't even feel it. I didn't even flinch. My hands continued to act with a will of their own, or at least with a will that wasn't mine. Her suit wouldn't slide off fast enough, so I pushed her with my own body, stiff everywhere, against the wall as my hands continued to work near her shoulders. Then it happened. Her neck, the anchor to her beautiful porcelain skinned face crowned with that glorious mane of red hair, just snapped. Her head tumbled to the floor. I think I saw it bounce a few times before it rested near the hood of the matchbox sized `67 Mustang. In shock, I fell back. I think I hit my head on my flashlight, because I blacked out for a moment. When I came to, I was lying right next to a very tall, buxom blonde. She was missing her left shoe. She was also missing her right arm. I also noticed that she wasn't wearing a skirt and panties. I tried to avert my eyes, but in my confused state, I felt myself staring at her naked southern hemisphere. I knew then that I must have really injured myself, because it looked like plastic. A plastic no man's land where no man could boldly go where no man has gone before, because it was seamless. The blonde introduced herself. Her name was Barbie. Now, I've always been intrigued by women with names that begin with "B" - B.J., Bambi...but this woman scared me. For one thing, she towered over me. She didn't even notice that her arm was missing, or care that she was half naked. "Looks like it wasn't meant to be, between you and Agent Scully, " Barbie chirped. Her voice was creepy. Unnaturally girlish and perky. I tried to utter a response, but my lips wouldn't move. "I guess Doctor Ken will have to examine her," Barbie continued cheerfully. I felt my head turn a full 360 degrees to look at the approaching doctor. He was also unnaturally tall, doubtlessly a product of genetic experimentation. He was very tan and very blonde, and was oddly wearing only a bathing suit with a tropical flower design. He too, was missing an arm. "It looks like Agent Mulder got a little rough with Agent Scully, Nurse Barbie," Ken chattered happily. He had the same creepy voice that Barbie had. He turned his head completely around, Exorcistesque, and looked at me with a blank expression. His white teeth glared unnaturally against his tan skin. Doctor Ken scared me. He scared me a lot. I tried to run, but my knees wouldn't bend. Ken approached me. His knees didn't bend either. I gave him my panic face. He didn't care. "You know what we do with men like you who get too rough, Agent Mulder," Ken screeched. He sounded excited now. I tried to answer, tried to scream, tried to run, but I was frozen. I've never been more afraid in my life. Doctor Ken lifted his tan, muscled arms and rested them on my lapels. I was helpless as he tried to remove my jacket, still crisp and unwrinkled despite my certainty that I was perspiring profusely underneath it. Strangely, my jacket wouldn't budge. My striped tie was still neatly draped against my chest. The only thing Doctor Ken was able to strip me of was my FBI identification badge. "It seems like your clothes are stuck, Agent Mulder," Doctor Ken whined. "You're nothing but a Gumby in a good suit, and you don't even bend as well. I'm going to find G.I. Joe. He's a REAL doll." Doctor Ken swivelled his head unnaturally back into position, and he bouncily moved out of my field of vision. I breathed a deep sigh of relief, and looked back at Scully. ******** Her body still lies stiffly on the stretcher, a permanent visual reminder of the thousands of close calls we've had since we've known each other. Her head lies awkwardly on the floor besides her flashlight, within pointing distance of Barbie's missing arm. I remain propped against the hallway stretcher, impotent in many more ways than one. I'd cry, but my face won't let me. I fought the future, and thought I had won. I arrogantly thought I beat the conspiracy. I thought I brought FEMA to its knees. If only I had known that the REAL villain was McFarlane Toys. END Sincere apologies to McFarlane Toys, whose X Files
Action Figures, including the corpse shrouded tastefully in white, are
the most interesting toys I've seen in a long time. |
