Cruel and Unusual
Assistant Director Walter Skinner was not a vindictive man by nature, nor was he someone who had ever been described as a practical joker. But, as his finger hovered over the keyboard, the sudden and inexplicable desire to spread torment amongst his employees seemed almost irresistible. Especially, he justified to himself, when he could get away with it so easily.
This unusual opportunity to create mischief had, almost literally, fallen into his lap earlier that day – an emailed request from Agent Mulder, AD Skinner's best and most troublesome agent, for some furniture. The message went on to explain that he and Agent Scully had received orders from higher up to report to Arcadia, CA, and go undercover as a married couple; the furniture was to, temporarily, inhabit their 'marital' home.
At first, Skinner glanced half-heartedly over the application, already knowing deep down he'd approve pretty much anything they had asked for. As he cast his eye along the requisitioned inventory, he could almost hear Agent Scully (the more sensible and forward-thinking of the pair) dictating to Mulder what a normal married couple would have in their home, plus a few extra standard FBI gadgets.
'Couch - Quantity: 1.
Dining Chair - Quantity: 4.
ALS Black Light – Quantity: 1.'
Skinner continued idly down the list, mentally picturing the home Scully was quite objectively describing. He followed her through the rooms; passing through the kitchen, 'Set of Tea Towels – Quantity: 1', up the stairs and into the bathroom, 'Shower Curtain – Quantity: 1' and across the landing, to the study, 'Desk – Quantity: 1'. He chuckled, imagining some poor dogsbody in the California requisitions department spending tomorrow trudging around Ikea, and reached for his coffee. The cup had barely touched his lips when he stumbled across the source of his future mischief – Three-quarters of the way down the page, an item on the list that made him pause for thought, 'Quantity: 2'.
Of course, he could see why they'd done it that way – Appropriateness, professionalism, and probably a whole host of reasons just unique to them and their quite warped friendship. It wouldn't even look suspicious to the neighbours... after all, many people kept a second one just in case. But Skinner also knew he could just as easily change the quantity, adjust that tiny number at the end from two to one, and claim budget cuts if it was ever questioned. In the meantime, he could revel in imagining the looks on their faces as they realised there was only one in the moving truck, and not two as they'd requested.
Walter Skinner was not a vindictive man by nature, nor was he someone who had ever been described as a practical joker. However, for these two, he made an exception. Not only had they made his life hell on more than one occasion, he'd also been an involuntary spectator in what he could only describe as the longest, and most observationally painful, game of 'Will they, Won't they?' in history. True, Skinner had been sensing something amiss with the pair recently, and he briefly considered that perhaps there had been a shift in their relationship as of late. However, Skinner reasoned, enough was enough – time to shit or get off the pot.
If his little hoax helped in that, it'd be worth it; getting his revenge on them for making his job ten times harder than it had to be was just a bonus, he justified.
Within seconds, it was decided. Skinner smirked as his hands flew over the keyboard, changing that tiny number and forwarding the email to the California FBI requisitions department. His mirth only increased when he received a reply an hour later, confirming the order would be ready within the week, and he struggled to maintain any sort of poker face when Agent Mulder came to his office the next day to thank him personally for approving the request. In fact, Mulder had barely made it out of the door before Skinner broke into a roar of tear-jerking, stomach-stitching laughter.
It was six days before he heard any more about his little wind-up – walking into his office on Thursday morning, he found a manila file laid on his desk with an attached post-it note, 'For Attention of AD Skinner,' It read, 'Current progress of Arcadia file enclosed. Agents Scully and Mulder on route to CA on 10:30am flight.'
Skinner quickly flicked through the file, finding his target with ease, and grinned. He looked over his little prank with utter glee, printed there plainly in black and white in the open file, and apparently so far gone unnoticed by anyone but him.
'Double Bed with Mattress - Quantity: 1.'
Thank you for reading!
Queenie Laureenie