EUPHEMISMS
by
Uhill@aol.com

A crowd is seen leaving the federal courthouse. The sun is shining brilliantly, and people are smiling and greeting each other warmly. Even the passing traffic seems to be emitting less pollution than usual. As the crowd disperses, a well-dressed couple walks towards their car. The man gallantly opens the door for his shorter female partner, averting his eyes as her skirt inches well past her knee when she sits in the front passenger side and puts on her safety belt. She smiles admiringly, and thanks him for his chivalry before he gently closes the door.

"I never thought this day would come, Scully," the man said to his partner as he turned the ignition key, checked his rearview mirror and put on his turn signal blinker.

"Oh, Mulder, you know that I don't like it when you use that word," his partner said demurely.

"Sorry. I never thought this day would arrive, Scully."

"Neither did I. The Cancer Man is finally behind bars."

"Um, Scully," the man said softly, "I'd prefer that you didn't refer to him that way. You of all people should know that it's insulting to all of those who have been oncologically challenged.

"You're right Mulder," Scully said. "But I am happy that the Cigarette Smoking Man will never bother us again."

"Hmm," Mulder mused as he waved a group of pedestrians considerately using the crosswalk across the street. "I think we should refrain from calling him that too. After all, not ALL people who smoke are bad."

"You're right," Scully conceded. "I'm also relieved that the jury didn't sentence the Black Lunged Son of a B..."

"Scully!" Mulder shouted as he conveniently came to a four way stop. "Don't forget the thousands of coal miners and their families who suffered because of black lung disease." He generously let eight cars pass through the intersection before he looked left, right, and left again and moved through the intersection.

"Sorry. I'm relieved that he didn't get the death penalty. Even though the Tall, Middle-Aged Man Who Incidentally Smokes is evil incarnate, he certainly doesn't deserve to die. He might reform himself while in prison." Scully rolled down her window and passed a ten dollar bill to the gentleman who industriously offered to wash their windshield.

"Yes, I'm relieved too," Mulder admitted. "Perhaps he'll form a Bible study group with the Well Fed Man." He slowed their car to allow a family of squirrels to safely pass.

"They might choose to study the Koran instead. We shouldn't make judgements about their religious affiliation. I also wish you wouldn't call him the Well Fed Man."

"You're right, Scully. It IS callous when you think of all of the poor, hungry children in China."

"Or the thousands of Americans who have become instantly obese now that the National Institute of Health has downsized their weight tables."

Mulder turned onto a tree-lined suburban street and nodded to the children who were painting a white picket fence. The couple drove on companionably through the comfortably shaded streets. The dogs were all on leashes, and the bicyclers and roller-bladers stayed politely on the shoulder of the road.

"Want me to put on the radio?" Mulder asked.

"Actually, why don't you just plug in that Yanni tape," Scully suggested.

"Scully," Mulder whispered disapprovingly. "You know I don't like that word either."

"What, Yanni?" Scully asked innocently.

"No, tape," Mulder whispered. "It rhymes with the "R" word, and it's a painful reminder of what might happen to the Tall Middle-Aged Man Who Incidentally Smokes now that he's in prison."

"Okay, then Yanni audiocassette it is," Scully said brightly. She closed her eyes and nodded slightly in time to the music. "How much longer before we get to the park?"

"We're almost there," Mulder replied. "Did you remember to pack everything?"

"Yes, I think so," Scully said as she turned to check the picnic basket belted into the back seat. "Non-alcoholic wine, carrot sticks..."

"I can't eat those," Mulder said. "They're too phallic in shape. What else do we have?"

"Oranges, apples, and grapes, all organically grown," Scully continued.

"I can't eat anything organically grown, either. Organic is too close to orgasmic."

"Mulder!" Scully said breathlessly. "That word makes me uncomfortable."

"I'm sorry," Mulder said, blushing. "Do we have any sandwiches?"

"Well, I didn't find any meat that wasn't from an animal that was either an endangered species or that was part of a food chain that ate a species of endangered plants, so all we have left is bread."

"That's okay, I'm not that hungry anyway," Mulder responded as he drove into the parking lot. He parked the car in the last white-lined section of the lot, considerately leaving all of the other open spaces for people who might not be as fit and lean as he was.

"Mulder, there's a nice field of flowers just beyond that hill," Scully offered.

"Okay, we'll head in that direction. "Scully gave him an aggravated glance.

"Sorry, we'll aim in that direction," Mulder corrected. He politely carried the almost-empty picnic basket as they walked through fields of tick-free tall grass. Scully took off her high-heeled shoes and walked barefoot.

"So what do you think will happen to Agent Spender?" Scully asked.

"He's likely to receive a reprimand for not guarding the assassin closely enough."

"Mulder, I'd prefer if you didn't use that term. It has the "A" word embedded in it."

"Sorry. I think Skinner will write him up for letting the shooter get shot."

"Did anyone ever find out who he really was?" Scully asked.  "Well, since Gibson Praise's mentor, Grand Master Bate, has been missing..."

"Excuse me?" Scully asked incredulously. "Did you just say what I thought you said?"

"That IS his real name, but we'll refer to him as ‘Mr. B.' from now on. It's less offensive. Look at all these wildflowers, Scully. This looks like a nice place to stop."

They spread a checkered blanket over a flat spot in the field and sat down. The fragrance of wildflowers was intoxicating, almost. Mulder removed his shoes, socks, jacket, tie and shirt. Scully took off her blazer. They looked at each other lustfully.

"Dana," Mulder whispered huskily as he moved closely towards his partner. "I don't really want to eat the bread. I hunger only for you."

Scully blushed and allowed him to enter her closely guarded personal space. She also breathed more heavily and dainty beads of sweat appeared on her skin. "Fox, what's that in your pocket?"

Mulder backed away, surprised. He reached into his trousers and firmly grabbed the large instrument he was looking for. Scully almost gasped when she saw it in the bright sunlight.

"It's my moral compass, Scully. And it's telling me that since we're not married and have no reliable contraceptives with us, we should just pick a bouquet of these wildflowers and bring them to your mother."

Scully nodded in agreement, and they walked away together, but not TOO together, in the late afternoon sun and thought wholesome thoughts of their next picnic.

END