Disclaimer: We own nothing. NOTHING!
Authors' note: That's right, there's two of us. Fear us. We are a deadly team. Okay, so here's the deal. My sister and I have written this piece of silly crap for you. We find it very amusing. We hope that you do as well. Enjoy yourselves!
***
Scully was sitting in Mulder's office one day, examining the results of an autopsy. She was just looking over some strange findings, when suddenly, Mulder rushed in, grinning. "Scully, Scully, look!" he yelled excitedly.
"What, Mulder?" she asked calmly.
He smiled broadly. "Ruins in England," he said, "graffiti on the wall of the name 'Draco Malfoy.' There are some pretty interesting rumors about it, too."
Scully paused, looking at him. "So?"
If possible, he grinned even wider. "So! They say--get ready for this, Scully--they say that no normal person has ever been able to enter the ruins!" He paused for dramatic effect.
Scully was not excited. "...your point?"
He made a gesture as if she should already know, and after a pause and a confused look from Scully, he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world: "We're going!"
"What?! Mulder! There is no evidence to convince me that this is anything even *nearing* an X-File. I'm not going." There was a brief pause, and she picked up a file that was thrown on the desk in front of her. "Look, Mulder," she said, dangling the file tantalizingly in front of his face, "a nice juicy alien abduction. Sure you don't want to look into this instead?"
Mulder dashed out of the room, laughing. As he went, he called, "Too late, Scully! Our flight's already booked! I'll meet you at the airport."
***
Next day, Scully shifted uncomfortably in an airliner seat obviously designed for creatures not of this world. She looked over at Mulder, who was attempting to headbang to an alien abduction report on the radio, and sighed, turning back to her laptop.
[Further information will have to be gathered at the site, where my partner supposedly believes there is some sort of 'magic' taking place.] Scully stopped typing. "Mulder!" she called, hoping to get his attention.
He continued headbanging.
"MULDER!" Some people in seats around her got a little annoyed, telling her to quiet down. She poked him, pissed of. "Mulder."
"Huh? What?"
"Did you say this was occult 'magic'?"
"Huh?" he removed the headphones. Scully sighed and repeated her question. "Oh, uh, no. No. I think this is something that hasn't been heard of before." Scully rolled her eyes, and gestured for Mulder to put his headphones back on. He was about to comply when the airplane's intercom crackled on. Some shouting was heard, presumably by the Captain. Mulder dropped his headphones, and looked at his watch. He pointed the time out to Scully, just before there was a bright flash that filled the cabin.
Scully came back into herself to find that she was no longer looking at Mulder's watch. "Look, Scully!" came the frantic cry from behind her. "Nine minutes! We're missing minutes!"
"SHHHHHHH," a person in an adjacent seat pointed out empatically.
"Oh. Sorry."
***
Three hours later, the plane landed. An hour after after that, the pair of agents were staring confusedly at an extremely large corpse.
"That is one big-ass dead dog," Scully proclaimed. "Three heads. Must be some sort of genetic abnormality."She shot a glance at Mulder. "Or, it could be that two of the heads are false."
Mulder was almost too excited to speak. "Hey, Scully," he nudged her, staring ecstatically at the dog, "if I had three heads, would you go out with me?"
Scully scowled, and turned to the law enforcement officer who had been kind enough to bring them to the site. "I can perform the autopsy...I'd prefer not to, but I can."
Mulder turned to her, grinning. "Oh, would you, Scully? Pleeeeeease?"
Four hours after *that* stirring conversation, after a crane had been brought in, and the dog had been moved to a large empty warehouse, Scully informed Mulder of her feelings on the situation. "This is disgusting." She wiped her hands off, after removing two bloody latex gloves, which hadn't done much good. She was covered in...well, let's not speak about that. She informed Mulder of her results.
Mulder couldn't stop giggling like a little girl when he heard that all three heads were, in fact, quite real. "The adrenaline level was quite high when it died," Scully told him, "but I can't seem to find a cause of death. And you *don't* want to know what the last meal was."
"Oh, I do."
"No. You don't."
***
Later that day, the two FBI agents found themselves interviewing an elderly man who claimed to have known the dog. This old man's name was Harry Potter, an orphan. But, he also claimed that the dog's name was 'Fluffy,' the building that made the ruins was a wizarding school called 'Hogwarts,' the headmaster's name was 'Dumbledore,' and when asked about the scar on his face, which resembled a lightning bolt, he said that an evil wizard called 'Voldemort' had given it to him, using magic. Everybody in the nursing thought he was quite crazy, including Scully, except for Mulder, who insisted on taking his number.
"Well, that was useless," Scully told him as they walked out of the nursing home.
"Are you kidding? He just provided us with a first-hand account of real magic. Do you know what this means, Scully?"
"It means that A.D. Skinner is going to think I've gone off the deep end when he reads my report?"
"No! It means that we have to meet this Ronald Weasley he told us about."
"Forget it, Mulder. I've had enough of this crap. *You* can meet this Ronald Weasley. *I'm* going shopping." Mulder gave her the dreaded puppy-dog look. "No." He increased the wattage a bit. "Mulder! It's my first time in London!" He stuck out his lip. Scully scoffed, and headed in the other direction. "Amateur," she muttered to herself, heading to a car-rental place nearby.
***
Pulling up in her ridiculous English car, one hour later, Scully found that she did indeed have a great deal of trouble driving on the wrong side of the road. She stopped in front of a large bookstore that looked promising, but after a half-hour's search, she could find no books that she hadn't read on medical science.
Frustrated, she wandered back onto the street. As she was heading back to her ridiculous English car, she spotted a dingy bar stuck in between two superstore. A sign above the door read "The Leaky Cauldron." Convinced that this was something that her partner would be interested to hear about later, she wandered inside and sat down. All the patrons around her were dressed rather oddly. They appeared to be wearing dresses. Scully felt very out-of-place.
"What can I get ya, miss?" said a man who appeared to be twenty years old, but, nonetheless, was missing all his teeth.
"Ugh. The strongest you've got."
The man looked surprised. "You sure about that, miss?"
She glared at him. "I'm sure. Bring it here."
Trembling, he reached behind the bar and pulled out a bottle that appeared to be steaming. He poured a tiny bit of it into a glass, but as he was pouring, he spilled a drop on the bar. The wood melted beneath it. Still shaking, he extended the glass to her. Scully didn't have a second thought before draining the glass.
"Whoo!"
"Miss?"
"Hit me again!"
Four glasses of the steaming stuff later...
"So, *Mulder,* who is a total idiot, seems to believe in this *magic* stuff," Scully slurred, slopping more of the steaming drink on the bar. The toothless man dodged the liquid in fear. "And so he dragged *me* out here to *England,* can you believe it, England! And *I* had to perform *another* autopsy on some weird creature with three heads."
"Oh. That's too bad. I was rather attached to Fluffy."
"You know him? So did that kook in the nursing home."
"Who, miss?"
"Oh, some Harry Potter person."
"Harry Potter, miss?" he said incredulously. "You met him?" He paused. "Did you get an autograph?"
"Pssh," said Scully, collapsing onto the bar.
***
To be continued...
Authors' note: That's right, there's two of us. Fear us. We are a deadly team. Okay, so here's the deal. My sister and I have written this piece of silly crap for you. We find it very amusing. We hope that you do as well. Enjoy yourselves!
***
Scully was sitting in Mulder's office one day, examining the results of an autopsy. She was just looking over some strange findings, when suddenly, Mulder rushed in, grinning. "Scully, Scully, look!" he yelled excitedly.
"What, Mulder?" she asked calmly.
He smiled broadly. "Ruins in England," he said, "graffiti on the wall of the name 'Draco Malfoy.' There are some pretty interesting rumors about it, too."
Scully paused, looking at him. "So?"
If possible, he grinned even wider. "So! They say--get ready for this, Scully--they say that no normal person has ever been able to enter the ruins!" He paused for dramatic effect.
Scully was not excited. "...your point?"
He made a gesture as if she should already know, and after a pause and a confused look from Scully, he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world: "We're going!"
"What?! Mulder! There is no evidence to convince me that this is anything even *nearing* an X-File. I'm not going." There was a brief pause, and she picked up a file that was thrown on the desk in front of her. "Look, Mulder," she said, dangling the file tantalizingly in front of his face, "a nice juicy alien abduction. Sure you don't want to look into this instead?"
Mulder dashed out of the room, laughing. As he went, he called, "Too late, Scully! Our flight's already booked! I'll meet you at the airport."
***
Next day, Scully shifted uncomfortably in an airliner seat obviously designed for creatures not of this world. She looked over at Mulder, who was attempting to headbang to an alien abduction report on the radio, and sighed, turning back to her laptop.
[Further information will have to be gathered at the site, where my partner supposedly believes there is some sort of 'magic' taking place.] Scully stopped typing. "Mulder!" she called, hoping to get his attention.
He continued headbanging.
"MULDER!" Some people in seats around her got a little annoyed, telling her to quiet down. She poked him, pissed of. "Mulder."
"Huh? What?"
"Did you say this was occult 'magic'?"
"Huh?" he removed the headphones. Scully sighed and repeated her question. "Oh, uh, no. No. I think this is something that hasn't been heard of before." Scully rolled her eyes, and gestured for Mulder to put his headphones back on. He was about to comply when the airplane's intercom crackled on. Some shouting was heard, presumably by the Captain. Mulder dropped his headphones, and looked at his watch. He pointed the time out to Scully, just before there was a bright flash that filled the cabin.
Scully came back into herself to find that she was no longer looking at Mulder's watch. "Look, Scully!" came the frantic cry from behind her. "Nine minutes! We're missing minutes!"
"SHHHHHHH," a person in an adjacent seat pointed out empatically.
"Oh. Sorry."
***
Three hours later, the plane landed. An hour after after that, the pair of agents were staring confusedly at an extremely large corpse.
"That is one big-ass dead dog," Scully proclaimed. "Three heads. Must be some sort of genetic abnormality."She shot a glance at Mulder. "Or, it could be that two of the heads are false."
Mulder was almost too excited to speak. "Hey, Scully," he nudged her, staring ecstatically at the dog, "if I had three heads, would you go out with me?"
Scully scowled, and turned to the law enforcement officer who had been kind enough to bring them to the site. "I can perform the autopsy...I'd prefer not to, but I can."
Mulder turned to her, grinning. "Oh, would you, Scully? Pleeeeeease?"
Four hours after *that* stirring conversation, after a crane had been brought in, and the dog had been moved to a large empty warehouse, Scully informed Mulder of her feelings on the situation. "This is disgusting." She wiped her hands off, after removing two bloody latex gloves, which hadn't done much good. She was covered in...well, let's not speak about that. She informed Mulder of her results.
Mulder couldn't stop giggling like a little girl when he heard that all three heads were, in fact, quite real. "The adrenaline level was quite high when it died," Scully told him, "but I can't seem to find a cause of death. And you *don't* want to know what the last meal was."
"Oh, I do."
"No. You don't."
***
Later that day, the two FBI agents found themselves interviewing an elderly man who claimed to have known the dog. This old man's name was Harry Potter, an orphan. But, he also claimed that the dog's name was 'Fluffy,' the building that made the ruins was a wizarding school called 'Hogwarts,' the headmaster's name was 'Dumbledore,' and when asked about the scar on his face, which resembled a lightning bolt, he said that an evil wizard called 'Voldemort' had given it to him, using magic. Everybody in the nursing thought he was quite crazy, including Scully, except for Mulder, who insisted on taking his number.
"Well, that was useless," Scully told him as they walked out of the nursing home.
"Are you kidding? He just provided us with a first-hand account of real magic. Do you know what this means, Scully?"
"It means that A.D. Skinner is going to think I've gone off the deep end when he reads my report?"
"No! It means that we have to meet this Ronald Weasley he told us about."
"Forget it, Mulder. I've had enough of this crap. *You* can meet this Ronald Weasley. *I'm* going shopping." Mulder gave her the dreaded puppy-dog look. "No." He increased the wattage a bit. "Mulder! It's my first time in London!" He stuck out his lip. Scully scoffed, and headed in the other direction. "Amateur," she muttered to herself, heading to a car-rental place nearby.
***
Pulling up in her ridiculous English car, one hour later, Scully found that she did indeed have a great deal of trouble driving on the wrong side of the road. She stopped in front of a large bookstore that looked promising, but after a half-hour's search, she could find no books that she hadn't read on medical science.
Frustrated, she wandered back onto the street. As she was heading back to her ridiculous English car, she spotted a dingy bar stuck in between two superstore. A sign above the door read "The Leaky Cauldron." Convinced that this was something that her partner would be interested to hear about later, she wandered inside and sat down. All the patrons around her were dressed rather oddly. They appeared to be wearing dresses. Scully felt very out-of-place.
"What can I get ya, miss?" said a man who appeared to be twenty years old, but, nonetheless, was missing all his teeth.
"Ugh. The strongest you've got."
The man looked surprised. "You sure about that, miss?"
She glared at him. "I'm sure. Bring it here."
Trembling, he reached behind the bar and pulled out a bottle that appeared to be steaming. He poured a tiny bit of it into a glass, but as he was pouring, he spilled a drop on the bar. The wood melted beneath it. Still shaking, he extended the glass to her. Scully didn't have a second thought before draining the glass.
"Whoo!"
"Miss?"
"Hit me again!"
Four glasses of the steaming stuff later...
"So, *Mulder,* who is a total idiot, seems to believe in this *magic* stuff," Scully slurred, slopping more of the steaming drink on the bar. The toothless man dodged the liquid in fear. "And so he dragged *me* out here to *England,* can you believe it, England! And *I* had to perform *another* autopsy on some weird creature with three heads."
"Oh. That's too bad. I was rather attached to Fluffy."
"You know him? So did that kook in the nursing home."
"Who, miss?"
"Oh, some Harry Potter person."
"Harry Potter, miss?" he said incredulously. "You met him?" He paused. "Did you get an autograph?"
"Pssh," said Scully, collapsing onto the bar.
***
To be continued...