Abominable
A/N: First story, although I'm a longtime reader. Any review with your opinion on the story would be great, along with any noticed errors. This is just something I wrote for an English class, and I wanted to know what others might think about it. Thanks for reading.
Agent Dana Scully let out an exasperated sigh as she rounded the corner into her "area," as her partner called it, and noticed the round-trip airline ticket sitting on the table. She heard the lock click in the copier-room-turned-office door and called out to Agent Fox Mulder as he entered.
"Are we going somewhere, Mulder?" she queried.
"That would be a rhetorical conjecture, Scully, seeing as you're scrutinizing the ticket right now," he bantered. "It's time for us to go on an exodus after one of the most evasive beasts the X-Files has ever known."
"What, the Mothman in West Virginia, the aliens of Roswell, or the missing tapes from the Nixon administration?" she joked, only half kidding.
"Very funny, Scully, but none of those, although all three are specially adapted for subterfuge, are quite as impressive as this creature indigenous to nearly all continents that inexplicably disappears when seen."
Wishing to perpetuate his ambiguous descriptions no longer, Scully acquiesced and asked the question he begged to answer, "All right, Mulder, what are you talking about?"
"Isn't it obvious, Scully? I was sure that you would have surmised by now that I mean the meh-teh, the mirka, the kang admi, or snow man, of countless anecdotes--"
"Let me cut in for a moment here, Mulder. Are you talking about the abominable snowman?" she said incredulously, her eyebrow rising to accentuate her frustration with his embellishments.
"You mean it wasn't obvious, then?" he chuckled, then after seeing her less-than-amused look, finished. "Back to the point, then. The abominable snowman, as you so aptly put it, or yeti, as its temperate-climate cousin is known in English vernacular, has recently been spotted in Oregon by some high schoolers--"
"Okay, before you go any further, did you at least check out their stories before you conned Skinner into sanctioning this little excursion? It could have been an erroneous assertion by some imbibed miscreants out for a joyride," Scully rationalized.
"Of course...not. Where's your sense of adventure? At least they were coherent on the phone, and they were adamant that they saw something out there. They never once changed their story, either."
"Where'd they get your number, Mulder? You didn't hand it out on The Jerry Springer Show again, did you?" Scully snarked, alluding to one of their earlier encounters in West Virginia involving chameleons and Luke Skywalker.
"Ouch, that hurt, Scully, no need to be hypercritical, they seemed entirely lucid. I gave a comprehensive report of the contact to the assistant director before he signed off on it, too, and then I took a walk down to the archives. It seems that our furry friend was caught on tape first in 1969 by Roger Patterson in Washington State as well as numerous times after that," clicking up the video on his beloved projector and letting it run through a few times.
Scully shrugged noncommittally, "I don't want to be audacious here, Mulder, but that video could have been made by the parents of the kids who called you. I mean, that was so grainy I thought I was looking at a wheat field. It could have been made by anyone with a camera and a gorilla costume."
"That's what makes it so provocative, Doctor. Modern people find it intangible that something this huge and repugnant could have slipped through the evolutionary cracks. However, ancient folklore calls for a giant man-beast whose ferocity allows it to attack anything to satiate its hunger."
"And you want to go charging through the forest to find this...thing? Why?" Scully stated calmly.
"Of course I do because I want to believe," Mulder grinned, quoting his UFO poster. "Now come on, Scully, we'll miss our flight. You can finish your incessant questioning on the plane."
"Just let me grab my other coat. I don't want another ruined due to your need to run around in the woods, especially when it's raining," Scully grumbled good-naturedly.
"Hey, I'm sure there's a great psychological reason behind my fondness for mud and poison ivy. Think of what Freud would say...," Mulder argued as they shut off the light and locked the door with a soft click.
Author's Note: I do not own any of the characters aforementioned. They belong to 20th Century Fox and/or the creators of The X-Files.