DISCLAIMER: Everything X-Files belongs to Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, and FOX. If they belonged to me, I wouldn't have to keep writing these stupid disclaimers. I'm only borrowing the characters for my own evil pleasure. Lighten up. All the Ramones songs I happened to quote from are licenced and copyrighted to them. Don't sue!
FEEDBACK: Yes, please. augustdragon81@netscape.net
ARCHIVING: Ask me first. I don't bite. (Well, there was that one incident, but we settled it out of court.)
AUTHOR'S NOTE: *sigh* This is a long one, folks. First off, I want to apologize to Bruce Harwood. I don't know why I like picking on Byers the way I do, but I do enjoy it! Don't take it personally. I love you, man! Second, I have to explain the genesis of this story. I was sitting at the computer, staring at the blank page on WordPerfect, going "duhhhhh" without an idea in my head. I was, however, listening to my brand-spankin' new Ramones CD (which I bought with birthday money - - thanks, Dad!) Well, anyway, the disc rolled around to 'Somebody Put Something In My Drink' and a little light went on over my head, "Hmm!" So, in a strange way, this story is sorta dedicated to the Ramones. Screwy, huh?
THANKS: to the Ramones for that song; to my dad for sending me the birthday money with which I bought the disc; to the Shroomery (www.shroomery.org) for some info on 'shrooms; and to DanaKatharineScully, who wrote a review of one of my other stories on FanFic net and said she especially liked drunk Byers. Blame them for this, not me!
Howling at the Moon
by Jamie August
* * *
". . .yeah . . . oh, shit . . . okay, we'll be right there."
Scully looked questioningly at her partner. "We'll be right where? Mulder, who was that?"
Slipping his cell phone back into his pocket, Mulder sighed. He knew Scully wasn't going to like this. "Uh, that was Langly. You and I need to go to Gunmen headquarters pronto."
"And I don't suppose you'd like to tell me why?"
"Not really." Seeing the murderous glare Scully shot his way, Mulder raised his hands in mock surrender. Scully really wasn't going to like this. "Well, Byers kind of wigged out and locked himself in the bathroom. Frohike and Langly can't get him to come out." He paused, trying to think of the right words to proceed with.
Although frustrated, Scully managed to restrain herself from pulling her gun on him. "Mulder, how does that warrant our attention?"
"To help out our fellow man?" he suggested. "Actually, you might find this interesting. They ordered a couple of pizzas, and Byers was well into his fourth slice when he started freaking out. The thing is, his was the only one with mushrooms. Langly thinks the pizza place put, well, psychedelic 'shrooms on the pizza."
Scully sighed. "He locked himself in the bathroom?"
"Yeah." Mulder nodded. "Apparently Frohike offered Byers a Pepsi before they realized what was happening. Byers started screaming about the little bubbles being tiny people, then he accused the guys of trying to poison him. I think that's when he locked himself in the bathroom."
She shook her head. Poor guy. "Why don't they just break into the bathroom? I've seen that door; it wouldn't be hard to do."
"They already picked the lock. He attacked Frohike with the plunger and locked the door again."
Scully tried to keep a straight face, but the mental image of John Byers attacking Frohike with a plunger was just too much. Doubled over in laughter, she glanced up at her partner, whose bemused expression caused a fresh wave of laughter to overcome her. "I'm sorry," she managed to gasp between giggles. "It's been a long day." Finally getting herself somewhat under control, she nodded. "I guess we'd better go help, then. Better watch out for that plunger, Mulder."
* * *
At Lone Gunmen headquarters, the door flew open before Mulder could knock. Frohike quickly ushered the agents inside. "Mulder, Scully, thank God you're here! You wouldn't believe some of the crazy shit he's been yelling."
Mulder glanced toward the bathroom, where a shout of "Gabba, gabba, hey!" issued forth from the closed door. A few seconds later he heard another shout, this time of "D-U-M-B, everyone's accusing me!". Recognizing the line, Mulder raised an eyebrow in Langly's direction.
"Oh, right, that." Langly picked at his Ramones shirt self-consciously. "Uh, don't ask me why, but when he's not screaming, he's been singing Ramones songs." He shrugged. "He does a decent version of 'Howling at the Moon'."
"Are you sure you don't mean he's been howling at the moon?" Scully asked skeptically.
"Well, that too."
Frohike rolled his eyes. "I told you to quit blasting that music all day. If it weren't for you, we wouldn't have to listen to him singing that stuff."
"You're right. Then he'd just be screaming about the bubble people. Much better."
Mulder ignored the two bickering Gunmen and walked to the bathroom door. Pressing his ear against the wood, he heard nothing. Knocking softly, he called, "Byers?"
"I'm not Byers, I'm Superman!" A maniacal laugh followed this declaration.
"Ten minutes ago he was Underpants Man."
Mulder turned and stared at Frohike, who had come up behind him. "Underpants Man?"
"Don't ask."
"I wasn't going to." He sighed. "Um, Superman? It's Mulder. Do you want to come out of there now?"
"I can't. Are those two guys still out there?"
"You mean Langly and Frohike? They're here. They're your friends, Byers."
"No, they're not!" Byers' voice fell to a conspiratorial whisper. "They're aliens, Mulder. They tried to poison me with bubbles."
Frohike threw up his hands. "Oh, for cryin' out loud!" he exploded. "It was Pepsi, Byers! Pepsi. Okay?"
Byers screamed and a loud thump escaped from the bathroom. "Get them away! Get them away!"
Not sure whether he meant the two remaining Gunmen or some imaginary 'them', Mulder herded Frohike back into the livingroom. Scully and Langly looked up from the pizza they were inspecting. "Well," Scully began, "these are definitely hallucinogenic mushrooms. Panaedus subbalteatus, I believe. We should go check out that pizza parlor. Somebody is going to be in deep trouble."
"Will Byers be all right?" Mulder asked, worried.
Scully nodded. "The effects should wear off in a few more hours. The main thing is to keep him from hurting himself. Will he come out?"
"I don't know. He thinks these two are aliens that are trying to kill him."
Langly groaned. "Oh, God, is he back to that?"
A muffled thumping sounded from the bathroom, then the group heard Byers shout, "One two three four, cretins wanna hop some more! Four five six seven, all good cretins go to heaven!"
Mulder couldn't help but laugh. "What the hell?"
"It's from 'Cretin Hop'," Langly informed him glumly.
Frohike hung his head. "I really wish he'd stop that."
Scully stood and walked toward the bathroom. "Let me see if I can get him to come out."
"Good luck." Mulder sketched a small salute her way.
"Byers?" Scully tapped on the door. "Are you okay in there?"
"Scueey?" Byers' voice was strangely garbled, as if he had something in his mouth.
Afraid of what that 'something' might be, Scully leaned her head against the door. "Yes. Byers, what are you doing?" When he didn't answer right away, she tried again. "Byers? John?"
"Id oo owe if oo oen or ouf eal ide, oo an ee fa acks of or eef?" came his answer.
"What? I can't understand a word you said."
"I said, did you know if you open your mouth real wide, you can see the backs of your teeth?"
Scully assumed that meant he was looking in the mirror. "That's fascinating, Byers. How about if you come out now?"
There was a long silence. Scully took this to mean he was considering it. Either that or he'd gone back to staring at the backs of his teeth. Finally there was a stealthy sound on his side of the door and a finger poked out from underneath. "Are they still out there?" The finger pointed in the general direction of the livingroom.
She sighed. "Byers, I promise nobody is going to hurt you. I'll even handcuff them if it makes you feel better. If I do that, will you come out?"
"Scully?"
"Yes?"
"Do you want some green Jell-O? The shower is dripping too much for me to eat by myself."
"Oh, boy," she whispered.
* * *
Two hours later, nobody had been able to talk Byers out of the bathroom. Langly fidgeted on the sofa, hoping Byers would come out soon. If he'd known his friend was going to wig out like that, he wouldn't have drunk those three cans of Pepsi. He briefly considered using the kitchen sink, then dismissed the idea as too gross. If Byers didn't come out in the next few minutes, he would have to make a little trip to the nearest gas station. Glancing around at his companions, he didn't think he was the only one thinking along those lines.
"Help! Mulder! Help me!" Byers suddenly screamed.
Exhausted, Mulder cradled his head in his hands. "What is it?" he called.
"My eyes are trying to come out of my head!"
Mulder groaned in exasperation. "I've got to get out of here. Scully, what was it you said about going to the pizza place?"
Frohike shook his head. "Forget it, man. They closed an hour ago."
"If you really need to get out of here for a while, how about we make a run to the gas station?" Langly asked hopefully.
"Sounds good." Mulder nodded. "We can question the employees at the pizza parlor tomorrow. Say, this gas station has a bathroom, right?"
* * *
Scully stole a sideways glance at Frohike, who had elected to stay at the apartment with her. The man must have a bladder the size of Texas, she thought dryly. Although she also could have used a restroom break, she'd decided the best idea was for her to stay behind with Byers. By Scully's estimation, the effects of the 'shrooms should have been wearing off to a degree. Wary of the speculative leers Frohike was sending her way, she cleared her throat. "He's been pretty quiet the last few minutes."
"Yeah. Too quiet, if you ask me." Frohike snorted. "He probably decided to try and crawl down the toilet or something."
Scully stared at him in horror, then jumped up and ran to the bathroom door.
"Hey - -! Scully, I was kidding! He wouldn't try that." Frohike knitted his brow. "At least, I don't think he would. Oh, crap," he sighed as he followed Scully.
"Byers?" She tapped on the door.
The bathroom door flew open, revealing a disheveled John Byers. He stood in the doorway with a plunger raised over his head. Hanging his head, he stared at them from the tops of his eyes, grinning crazily. "All work and no play makes John a dull boy." Laughing another maniacal laugh, he swung the plunger down to the floor in front of him, where the suction caused it to stick. Backing up, he giggled and slammed the door shut again.
"Why didn't you grab him?!" Frohike yelled.
Scully took a deep breath and brushed a strand of hair back into place. "Excuse me. I was a little busy trying to avoid getting conked in the head with a plunger. Why didn't you grab him?"
"You were closer."
"Naturally," she muttered. Sighing, she knocked on the door again. "Byers? Why don't you come out?"
For a long moment nothing happened. Then, very slowly, the door opened an inch. One bloodshot eye peered cautiously through the crack, then the door opened wide enough for Byers to poke his entire head out. "Heeeeeeeeere's Johnny!" He grinned at Scully.
"Hello, John. Do you want to come out and join us in the livingroom now?"
He squinted at her. "Scully? There's too much Jell-O in here now. I think it's trying to suffocate me."
Scully shook her head. "Well, you'd better get away from it, then." She pulled out her handcuffs. "Now, John, I'm going to have to cuff you for your own safety, okay?"
"For his safety? He's not trying to hurt himself; he's just been attacking us with that damn plunger!" Frohike exclaimed in exasperation.
With his hands firmly secured behind his back, Byers hid behind Scully and whispered in her ear, "He's an alien, Scully. He tried to make me drink the Bubble People."
"I know," she whispered back. "Don't worry, I'm keeping an eye on him."
* * *
Driving back from the gas station, Mulder suddenly slammed on the brakes and pulled over on the side of the road. "Is that the pizza place you ordered from?" He pointed to the building he'd stopped in front of.
Startled, Langly peered out the window. "Yeah."
"I thought Frohike said they were closed."
"They are." Langly squinted into the darkness. "See? All their lights are out."
Mulder shook his head. "No, I could swear I just saw someone moving around inside. I'm gonna go check it out." Pulling his gun from the holster, he climbed out of the car.
"Wait, Mulder!"
Mulder poked his head back into the car. "You stay here. I'll be right back."
"Famous last words," Langly muttered.
* * *
Byers stretched out on the floor and closed his eyes. He couldn't figure out why the walls had been breathing, but thankfully they had stopped. With his eyes shut, the only strange things he was witnessing were the dancing cartoon hamsters behind his eyelids. He decided the furry little rodents were acceptable compared to the other things he'd been seeing lately and promptly fell asleep.
* * *
Mulder crept around the side of Fat Al's Pizza Galleria, careful to stay in the shadow of the building. As he rounded a corner, the back door opened and a figure dressed in black stepped out. Taking a deep breath, he raised his gun and stepped out of the shadows. "FBI. Hold it right there!"
The figure slowly turned and peered into the darkness. "Fox?" a surprised voice questioned.
He attempted to pick his jaw up off the ground. "Diana?!" he exclaimed incredulously. What the hell was Diana Fowley doing creeping around a pizza parlor at three in the morning, he wondered.
"Fox, what are you doing creeping around a pizza parlor at three in the morning?"
Mulder almost had to laugh at that. "I could ask you the same thing, except I think I already know. A friend of mine ate one of your 'magic' pizzas."
Diana walked forward until she was almost on top of Mulder, staring up at him inquisitively. "What are you talking about? Fox, are you feeling all right?"
"I'm feeling fine. Except for the fact that a friend of mine is locked in his bathroom screaming about Jell-O in the bathtub. Other than that, I'm just peachy. Now what's going on here, Diana?"
"Jell-O in the bathtub? How many slices did he eat, anyway?" Realizing what she had just alluded to, Diana's face fell. "Don't get upset, Fox. It was in the name of science. An experiment."
"An experiment?" Mulder laughed bitterly. "You mean like infecting people with the alien virus? That sort of experiment?"
"No. It was, well . . . to prepare people for the coming alien invasion. It's a long story. But it was an important part of research."
"Diana, just shut up." While Mulder considered his options, he didn't notice Diana slowly backing away until she whirled and ran. "Hey! Come back here!" He began to chase after her, then quickly decided against it. Trudging back to the car, he figured if anyone asked he would say she kicked him in the groin and took off.
* * *
"How's he doing?"
"He's asleep, finally." Scully gestured to the prone body of John Byers lying on the floor. "Mulder, what happened to you?"
"He found the 'shroom bandit and let her get away." Langly glared at Mulder.
"Hey, I told you, she kicked me in the - -"
"Bullshit! You were walking just fine when you got back to the car."
Scully raised her eyebrows. "Would one of you care to explain? Who did you find?"
Langly snorted. "You're not gonna believe this one."
"Diana Fowley," Mulder reluctantly informed his partner. "She was creeping around the pizza parlor. She claimed putting 'shrooms on the pizzas was some sort of scientific research."
"Diana?" Scully echoed, feeling the twinge of jealousy that always accompanied that name. "And you let her get away?"
Mulder sighed in frustration. "I didn't 'let' her get away! It's like I told Langly, she ran away after kicking me in the, um . . . "
"Hoo-hoo?" Frohike supplied, trying not to laugh.
"That's it, just go ahead and laugh at me. I'm glad you find this so very funny. Tomorrow we need to inform the pizza place that their mushroom supply has been tampered with."
"Right." Scully nodded seriously. "And, Mulder?"
"Yeah?"
"When we get there, try not to let anyone kick you in the hoo-hoo."
* * *
The next morning, Byers groggily opened his eyes and looked up into Scully's face. "What happened?"
"You got ahold of some magic mushrooms, my friend," Mulder spoke up. "You were pretty flipped out."
Scully helped Byers sit up, then went to work removing the handcuffs. "Do you remember anything that happened?"
Byers thought for a minute, then slowly shook his head. "No, but I get the distinct impression that I made a total ass of myself. Am I right?"
"Well," Scully smiled comfortingly, "not a total ass."
Running his hand through his hair, he blushed. "I can't believe it. It was the pizza?"
"It's a long story. We'll fill you in later." Mulder patted him on the shoulder. "Now let Scully look you over and make sure you're really okay."
"Sure." Byers nodded and looked up as the other two Gunmen entered the room. "Hey, guys? We don't happen to have any Jell-O in the house, do we? For some reason I've got this craving for green Jell-O."
Frohike and Langly looked at each other and burst out laughing. Finally Langly choked out, "Check the bathtub!"
"Huh?" Byers stared at his roommates, confused. When it became clear he would get no answer, he shrugged. Oh, well, he'd always known those two were a little cracked . . .
The End
(c) 2000 Jamie August
* * * *
*Pepsi and Jell-O are trademarks, don't sue! Fat Al's Pizza Galleria is a figment of my imagination. The Ramones songs I quoted from are 'Cretin Hop' and 'Pinhead'. Oh, and I couldn't think of a title for this story, so I borrowed 'Howling at the Moon'. It seemed to fit pretty well. Sha-La-La! Um, I think that about covers it.*
** My evil alter-ego, Prisoner 6 double five 3 2 1 popped out and co-wrote this one. (Do y'all know what movie that number is from? Do ya, huh, huh? Er, nevermind.)**
***My first title for this was 'Dig That Pizza Man, He's a Real Fungi', but I decided that was way too corny. Just thought I'd share every thought in my head. I'll shut up now.***
