|
The X-mas Files
57 ELM STREET BETHLEHEM, PA. 11:51 P.M., DECEMBER 24TH
Mulder: We're too late! It's already been here.
Scully: Mulder, I hope you know what you're doing.
Mulder: Look, Scully, just like the other homes: Douglas
fir, truncated, mounted, transformed into a shrine; halls decked with
boughs of holly; stockings hung by the chimney, with care.
Scully: You really think someone's been here?
Mulder: Someone ... or something.
Scully: Mulder, over here-it's a fruitcake.
Mulder: Don't touch it! Those things can be lethal.
Scully: It's O.K. There's a note attached: "Gonna
find out who's naughty and nice."
Mulder: It's judging them, Scully. It's making a list.
Scully: Who? What are you talking about?
Mulder: Ancient mythology tells of an obese humanoid
entity who could travel at great speed in a craft powered by
antlered servants. Once each year, near the winter solstice, this
creature is said to descend from the heavens to reward its
followers and punish disbelievers with jagged chunks of anthracite.
Scully: But that's legend, Mulder-a story told by parents
to frighten children. Surely you don't believe it?
Mulder: Something was here tonight, Scully. Check out the
bite marks on this gingerbread man. Whatever tore through this
plate of cookies was massive-and in a hurry.
Scully: It left crumbs everywhere. And look, Mulder, this
milk glass has been completely drained.
Mulder: It gorged itself, Scully. It fed without
remorse.
Scully: But why would they leave it milk and cookies?
Mulder: Appeasement. Tonight is the Eve, and nothing can
stop its wilding.
Scully: But if this thing does exist, how did it get in?
The doors and windows were locked. There's no sign of forced entry.
Mulder: Unless I miss my guess, it came through the fireplace.
Scully: Wait a minute, Mulder. If you're saying some huge
creature landed on the roof and came down this chimney, you're
crazy. The flue is barely six inches wide. Nothing could get down
there.
Mulder: But what if it could alter its shape, move in
all directions at once?
Scully: You mean, like a bowl full of jelly?
Mulder: Exactly. Scully, I've never told anyone this, but
when I was a child my home was visited. I saw the creature. It had
long white shanks of fur surrounding its ruddy, misshapen head. Its
bloated torso was red and white. I'll never forget the horror. I
turned away, and when I looked back it had somehow taken on the facial
features of my father.
Scully: Impossible.
Mulder: I know what I saw. And that night it read my mind.
It brought me a Mr. Potato Head, Scully. It knew that I wanted a
Mr. Potato Head!
Scully: I'm sorry, Mulder, but you're asking me to disregard
the laws of physics. You want me to believe in some supernatural
being who soars across the skies and brings gifts to good little
girls and boys. Listen to what you're saying. Do you understand the repercussions?
If this gets out, they'll close the X-files.
Mulder: Scully, listen to me: It knows when you're sleeping.
It knows when you're awake.
Scully: But we have no proof.
Mulder: Last year, on this exact date, SETI radio telescopes
detected bogeys in the airspace over twenty-seven states. The White
House ordered a Condition Red.
Scully: But that was a meteor shower.
Mulder: Officially. Two days ago, eight prized Scandinavian
reindeer vanished from the National Zoo, in Washington, D.C.
Nobody-not even the zookeeper-was told about it. The government
doesn't want people to know about Project Kringle. They fear that
if this thing is proved to exist the public will stop spending half
its annual income in a holiday shopping frenzy. Retail markets will
collapse. Scully, they cannot let the world believe this creature
lives. There's too much at stake. They'll do whatever it takes to
insure another silent night.
Scully: Mulder, I-
Mulder: Sh-h-h. Do you hear what I hear?
Scully: On the roof. It sounds like ... a clatter.
Mulder: The truth is up there. Let's see what's the
matter.
|