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TITLE: "The Totally Useless Audio Files"
CATEGORY: Humor, Parody
RATING: PG
SPOILERS: Mild, harmless spoilers for Herrenvolk, Demons.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own this. It's Mr. Carter's, and if he should ask me
if I authored the work below, I shall request full denial.
ARCHIVE: Gossamer! Archive it this time, please? Send to ATXC,etc. If
you want it on your private site, send me the address and you'll be in
like Flynn...
SUMMARY: Mulder and Scully are under constant surveillance, and boy
wouldn't they feel foolish if they knew it...
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The Totally Useless Audio Files 1/1 - Amanda Finch
The CSM stared down two young male agents - obviously newly crowned with
the "agent" title, since they still had "cadet" scrawled on their every
move, from the way they earnestly shook his hand, offered to light his
cigarettes, and wore their cufflinks the wrong way. One wore a tiepin
that said, "I Love the FBI". The CSM rolled his eyes in the opposite
direction, and said said under his breath, "Didn't we fulfill our moron
quota *last* year?"
He took a slow drag off his Morley and blew smoke in their faces. The
one one the left, the one with the obsequious tiepin, had contact lenses
(he knew all about contact lenses; they made great spy equipment) and
rubbed his eyes vigorously before erupting into a phlegmy coughing fit.
The CSM turned his attention to the other agent and said lowly, "You got
the tape,Dickweed?"
"It's *Dickerson*, sir," he said, face reddening.
"I know that," the CSM said, not smiling.
Dickerson ignored the remark, which kinda of pissed off the CSM. *Note
to self*, he thought, *Give Dickerson a disease, something with large
boils*. And then he settled into his chair and puffed away as the agent
spoke above his partner's hacking cough.
"It wasn't easy, sir," Dickerson was saying. "Those two rarely left the
rental car long enough for us to snag the audio surveillance equipment,
but then the 8 foot tall guy with a fish's head busted right through the
wall on the other side of the ferris wheel and they had to chase him
with a golf cart. After that, it was easy."
"Did they suspect they were being followed?"
"Well, I think the guy - Mudler, Mulder - might have, but then - he
attacked the guy selling hot dogs at the stadium, screaming about 'who
sent you here?' Absolute nutcase."
The CSM sat up abruptly. "He KNEW about that?"
Dickerson looked confused, and the other agent was so surprised he quit
coughing.
"Did you put the device in Mulder's jacket?" The CSM asked.
"Ummm," the other agent, Darin, cleared his throat and said, "The fish
creature...ate the jacket, sir."
The CSM nodded gravely. "That explains the sonar readings....Never
mind!" He told their puzzled faces. "Did you transcribe the audio
tapes?"
Dickerson handed him the transcript and started the audio tape, a player
that occupied a space on the desk the size of a memory annilihator - not
that such a device actually existed, but close to that size.
(Engine noises present in background)
(Scratch of music gives way to another )
DKS :
Mulder, I was listening to that.
FWM :
I can't deal with schmaltz on an empty stomach.
(long pause - 58 sec.)
FWM:
Why are you giving me The Look?
DKS:
Not only are we going in search of a giant fish
beast in a small northeastern town, but I've
spent the last three obscenely long drives with you
listening to and analyzing the entire Pink Floyd
discography -
FWM:
I thought you liked Pink Floyd -
DKS:
I didn't mean that as an invitation to play DJ on
all of our future car trips.
FWM:
You brought that Kate Bush tape last time...
DKS:
Mulder, I did that to annoy you.
(pause - 22 sec.)
FWM:
I thought maybe your tape was just messed up.
(pause - 28 sec.)
(Led Zeppelin gives way to the Carpenter's "Close To You")
FWM:
DKS:
Mulder...
FWM:
That was my Karen Carpenter imitation.
DKS:
I think she had anorexia, not bullimia.
FWM:
Well, just spoil the joke, Dr. Scully.
(pause - 5 sec.)
DKS:
What jurisdiction do we have on this case,
Mulder?
FWM:
There have bee 5 sightings of Jared the
Mutant Crappy in the last two days. Forensics
found mutant DNA under the fingernails of
two of the murder victims, and around the
nose ring of the third one. By the way, these
are the first 3 murders in Dubberucky in ten
years.
DKS:
And you found out about this how? Tabloid?
(paper rustling)
DKS:
"Beasts of the Northeast" weekly digest?
(pause - 20 sec.)
DKS:
Please tell me this was a Christmas gift.
FWM:
You want a subscription? I'll get 20% off on mine
if I sign you up.
DKS:
I'm not reading this whole...expose'...Mulder.
Give me a run-down.
FWM:
A rubdown?
The CSM jumped out of his chair. "YES! This is where they do it, right?"
DKS:
Mulder...
The CSM sat back down. "Damn. What's up with her?"
FWM:
In the 1700s there were frequent sightings of a fish
beast toppling schooners and devouring its occupants
whole, often spitting out low quality watches and entire
skeletons intact and....
"You can fast-forward through this part," the CSM said wearily.
Agent Dickerson fast-forwarded.
The CSM flipped the pages incredulously, "How long does this go on?"
"The machine had to change to the auxiliary cassette, sir."
"Daaaaaaaamn," the CSM grumbled. "How much could someone possibly have
to say about a fish beast?"
"Apparently alot, sir." Dickerson pushed play again.
FWM:
And then there was sighting #22 where Jared the Mutant
Crappy first came onto dry land and consumed the entire
graduating class of Dubberucky's Hair Academy except -
DKS:
Mulder?
(pause - 32 sec.)
DKS:
Does this long, winding narrative eventually dwindle
down into the answer of my initial question?
FWM:
No.
DKS:
Then shut up...I have to use the bathroom.
FWM:
You just used the bathroom, back at the Exxon in
Stool.
DKS:
I can't just stop and water the bushes like you
Mulder.
(pause - 35 sec.)
FWM:
I, uh, thought you were, uh, asleep...
DKS:
Surprise!
FWM:
There, uh...weren't any bathrooms for miles...
I really had to go...
DKS:
Mulder, I have to say this: you have an
amazingly long -
FWM:
SCULLY!
DKS:
- range. An amazingly long range. What did
you think I was going to say? Oh.
FWM:
What's so funny?
DKS:
You were hosing down bushes ten feet away!
FWM:
Was not.
(pause - 1 min, 17 sec.)
FWM:
I'm sorry. I thought you were asleep.
DKS:
Big deal, Mulder. I've seen you naked.
The CSM choked on his cigarette. "Yes! This is the proof I need! This is
where they talk about doing it!
Dickerson shook his head sadly.
FWM:
- surprised you didn't file a full report on
that.
DKS:
I'm a *doctor*. You think my autopsy subjects
get to maintain their dignity on the table?
FWM:
Oh thanks...I looked like an autopsy subject.
DKS:
God, Mulder - you were shivering and scalding
yourself and jabbering - I wasn't checking you
out! Of all the absurd -
"Damn," muttered the CSM, stubbing out his cigarette on the desktop.
"When are these two going to *do* it?"
"Not on this tape, sir," Dickerson answered.
The CSM grunted evilly, like an alien-pig hybrid - if such a thing
existed, which it doesn't.
"Um, this is where it switches over to the auxiliary cassette,"
Dickerson replied.
"Do they do it on this one?"
"No."
There was a click and a pause.
FWM:
"You were working as a waitress in a cocktail
bar when I met you..."
"NO!" howled the CSM, angrily puffing on a new cigarette. "Not another
one of their infernal sing-alongs!"
FWM:
Come on, Scully. You have to sing the girl's
part.
DKS:
No.
FWM:
I'll feel like a sissy if *I* do it!
DKS:
No.
FWM:
"I was working as a waitress in a cocktail bar" -
C'mon, Scully! SING!
DKS:
"...cocktail bar, that much is true..."
FWM:
Put some *feeling* in it.
BOTH:
"Don't, don't you want me? You know I can't be-"
"Yes!" The CSM leans forward. "I can use this!"
Agent Dickerson tapped his foot, whistling. The CSM glared at him.
Dickerson slumped down in his seat, unaware of how he'd have gross boils
one day. The other agent fiddled with his "I Love the FBI" pin.
"Sir," Dickerson began. "They sing along to the next..." He flipped
through the pages. "..the next 9 songs."
"Anything revealed?"
"Well," Dickerson snickered. "Mulder knows all the words to
'Copacabana'."
"That's not what I meant, you imbecile!"
Dickerson slumped down in the chair again. "Sorry, sir...no, nothing of
interest to the government."
"Fast forward the damn tape."
(2 hours fast-forwarded)
FWM:
Dana Scully, your singing is abysmal!
DKS:
Fox Mulder, you sing like your balls are
on fire!
FWM:
You make Yoko Ono sound melodic!
DKS:
You make Frankie Valli sound like Barry
White!
(both: laughter - 6 min., 53 sec; some snorting)
"Well?" inquired the CSM, trying to be heard over the laughter with the
intervals of snorting.
Dickerson stammered. "Ummm, they talked for a moment - they argue about
where they're going to eat. He wants burritos and she wants - "
"Never mind!" The CSM snapped, bringing his fist down on top of the
desk, which rattled like the CLMS (Crash Location Molecular Sterilizer),
model TC-156x, which doesn't exist. "Is there anything IMPORTANT on this
tape?"
"Well, a block of a Beatles retrospective comes on and we lose them
again, sir," Dickerson pointed out sheepishly. "Especially when they
play 'Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds'."
"The original?" The CSM asked.
Dickerson grew very quiet. "It's the...the William Shatner version,
sir..."
The CSM dropped his cigarette, starting a small, untended fire. "No."
Going into dry heaves, Dickerson rasped out, "He knew...all the
inflections...he had the enunciation down...*perfectly*. It was..."
Darin put a supportive hand on Dickerson's shoulder as he cried. "It was
awful, man. I know. It was hard."
The CSM shrugged. These years had hardened him. "He's a sick man. I told
you that. What happened then?"
"Then the tape runs out." Darin answered.
"This has been a total waste of my time," the CSM gathered his
cigarettes and rises from his chair. "Don't you know I'm a very busy
man? I had an assasination to observe at 11:00 . It's the special 500th
assasination the government has committed - with a party afterwards! -
and I passed it up for....for what? This? Next time, have more auxiliary
cassettes!"
Dickerson winced. "Next time, sir?"
"What? You didn't think there would be a next time?" The CSM snarled and
slammed the door behind him. His smoke, however, opted to stay behind.
"What a total bastard," Dickerson told his partner, and then, panicked,
realized that the room was probably under surveillance. In a low whisper
he said, "Darin, Do you think next time he'll just let us write down the
names of songs instead of transcribing them too? I mean, what's in a
damn song that concerns the government? This conspiracy detail's a
bitch."
"I hear ya," Darin replied lazily. "And ever since we been transcribing
these two, I've come to hate the Beatles."
Dickerson stood up and brushed off his blazer, "You want to catch some
lunch?"
"Yeah, I'm in the mood for a little barbecue."
"Should we have told him about the part where that Jeremiah guy talked
to them at the gas station when they stopped for burritos?"
"Nah, man." Darin shook his head. "What could *that* have to do with
anything?"
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*Lyrics to "Don't You Want Me?" (Human League) used without permission.
No copyright infringement was intended.
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