The Corn Party
by Liz S. (sporkfowley@aol.com)
Category: Fowlfic, humor
Rating: PG-13; language, gore and the slightest bit of
sexual material
Archive: Go right ahead, just drop me a line with where
it's going
Summary: Fowley is made to go to a party in hicksville
USA with CSM, and things get ugly when another man and
some cornpokers come into the picture.


********************
The Corn Party
1/1
********************


Somewhere in Iowa
August 4th, 5:45 pm.

The solitary farm house rose up out of the
neverending fields of corn like an incredibly far-off
beacon of hope in a storm. Diana Fowley breathed a
sigh of relief and turned to the driver of the black
sedan she was in.

"Finally! Is that it? It better be!"

The driver took one last drag from the diminished
Morley in his hand and crushed it in the car's ashtray.
"Yes, it is. Patience, Diana - we're almost there."

Fowley sighed again and sat back in her seat.
This little trip to the farmlands of the Midwest was not
her idea of fun, but her employer had ordered that she
accompany him on this unusual visit.

"Tell me why we're doing this again?" she asked
impatiently. CSM regarded her with an icy stare and lit
up another Morley.

"We're here to keep an eye on this gathering.
The host family consists of undercover operatives working
in colinisation; they posses many classified documents
pertaining to the project, my job is simply to protect
this sensitive information."

"What 'gathering' are you referring to? And why
do I have to be a part of this?" Fowley whined.

"They're having a type of party, called a corn
party by farmers. It's really a very outdated and pointless
ritual, where people gather together and eat corn
related products and shuck corn together... the family
wants to look normal and conform to the standards of
farming, so they decided to throw this party." CSM's
face broke into a small smile, the first Fowley had seen
all day. "And you're with me simply because I craved
companionship."

The creepy way he was looking at her made Fowley
feel ill, and she turned towards the window, wondering
exactly what he meant by 'companionship'. She attempted
to amuse herself by staring at the fields and trying to
count the rows of corn as they went by, but it fast lost
it's novelty, and she nodded off to sleep.

Around half an hour later, CSM pulled into the
driveway of the farmhouse and turned the car off. He
turned to the sleeping Fowley and smiled as he touched
her arm gently.

"Hm?" Fowley awoke with a start and looked
around. "Are we there?"

CSM patted her leg affectionatley, at which Fowley
frowned and pulled away. "Yes, this is it. Party starts
in 15 minutes, we can go in and freshen up, if you want."
He got out of the car and, lighting up yet another Morley,
proceeded to the porch to knock on the door; Fowley groggily
stumbled out of the car and joined him.

A small girl with dark hair and blue eyes answered
the door. CSM gave her a smile of recognition, but she
didn't seem to notice.

"Are you here for the party?" she inquired, looking
at them with big eyes and appearing slightly frightened
upon seeing Fowley.

"Yes we are, could we see your parents please?"
CSM asked. The little girl nodded and opened the door
for them to step inside. They did so, and the girl
scampered off to find her parents.

Fowley frowned. "Why did that girl look so
familiar?..."

CSM ignored her question and looked around the
house they had entered. "Nice place they've made for
themselves," he commented, taking in the traditionally
decorated farmhouse. Fowley looked around and jumped
slightly at the sight of a scarecrow propped up by the
door. *They definitely overdid it* she thought to
herself, as the little girl returned with her father.

"Here's daddy!" The girl took off again and
left her father standing in front of CSM and Fowley with
a frightened look on his face.

"Wha... wha - what can I do for you?" he stuttered,
trying to look nonchalant to conceal his evident anxiety.

"We're simply here to keep an eye on things at
the party, Warren, calm down. Since you're inviting
strangers into your house, we thought it appropriate to
be here to make sure nothing goes wrong and no sensitive
material gets out in the open. You do understand, of
course?"

Warren's face relaxed somewhat and he gave CSM a
wan smile. "Oh... oh, wonderful sir, that's fine! Um -
follow me, everyone's in the barn."

He led CSM and Fowley through the house and out
into a large barn, where about 20 people were milling
about, eating corn related foods and talking amongst
themselves. They were all dressed similarly in denim
and flannel, and observed the newcomers' suits with
amazement and in some cases, scorn.

"Why do I feel like we're overdressed for the
occassion?" Fowley whispered as they looked around at
everyone.

"We do stand out a little, but pay no attention
to it," CSM replied. He and Fowley walked with Warren
through the throng of people to a long table with chairs
set up all around it; Warren gestured for them to be
seated, then he stood up on one of the chairs.

"If I could have everyone's attention..." (The
crowd fell silent.) "...we're going to begin now, so if
everyone would have a seat..."

The people all shuffled to the table and sat
down while Warren rushed into the house to help his wife
bring out the food. They brought out cornbread, corn
muffins, big bowls of poppin' corn, cooked ears of corn,
even candy corn, and much more. Fowley glanced sideways
at CSM and leaned towards him.

"We don't have to, um... eat all of this, do we?
I don't much care for corn." Then she spotted the
cornbread. "Well, the bread I can deal with."

"Just have enough to make it look like you are
enjoying it," CSM replied, touching her knee under the
table with a slightly cheesily out-of-character smile.
Fowley again jumped and pulled away, revolted by his
actions, and turned her attention to the cornbread.

As she did so, CSM, puzzled by her digust, took
a cooked ear of corn and 2 corn-shaped pokers to hold
the ear with. Lost in his thoughts, he carelessly
dropped one of the pokers on the floor and reached down
to retrieve it. As he brought it back up to the table,
he accidently poked Fowley in the arm with it.

"OWWWW!" Fowley clapped her hand over her mouth
to keep from yelling outloud again and grabbed her arm.

"Watch it!" she whispered fiercly to CSM, looking
at the 2 small drops of blood that had appeared on her
arm. She gave him a ferocious glare and turned back to
the cornbread and beer she was consuming, still holding
her injured arm. CSM, dismayed by his thoughtless
accident, left Diana alone as she wished, and cursed
himself for being so careless. He quietly went about
his business and let Fowley go about hers.

********************

Half an hour later, the party was still going
strong, due mostly in part to the large kegs of beer
that had been brought out. Fowley had befriended the
man sitting next to her and now was completely ignoring
any attempts made to talk to her by CSM. She was
shamelessly flirting with the man, which made CSM even
more irate; the time he wasn't spending sulking he
spent trying to get her attention.

"So... Diana..." he began uncomfortably. Fowley
turned to him and frowned.

"Can't you see I'm entertaining this nice man
right now?" she said in a slurred manner.

CSM tried again. "Won't you introduce me to your
friend?"

Fowley turned back to him with another annoyed
frown, and was about to retort when her new friend spoke up.

"Harold Hobbleford. Pleased to make your
disguinshed acquaintance, sir." The man reached in
front of Fowley and offered his hand to CSM, who took
it hesitatingly.

"I'm a dairy farmer 'round these parts, boy
this party sure is bigger than any we've had recently!
You city folk throw big shin-digs like this all the
time I figure?" Harold asked of Fowley and CSM, all the
while gazing down at Fowley's prominent bossom as he
had been before.

"Uh-" CSM saw what he was goggling at and
cleared his throat. "Diana is my date for tonight, Mr.
Hobbleford," he said, putting his hand lightly on her
knee.

These words and his gesture of affection proved
to be just the wrong course of action. Harold's face
contorted into a hardly amiable scowl as Fowley quickly
removed CSM's hand from her knee and drunkenly smacked
him across the face. Before CSM had time to react,
Harold stood up and glared down at him.

"You leave this lovely lady alone you filthy old
sack of shit!"

Fowley had composed herself (as much as possible
considering her blood alcohol content) and calmed down
somewhat; she took Harold's hand and pulled him back
into his chair, then addressed CSM with a look that
would've killed if given the chance.

"Look. I am your colleague, employee, whatever,
but I certainly am not your date! I mean, how old are
you, like 70? You're old and I have no interest in you!
How could you even think anything like that?"
She paused and a small smile crept across her face.
"I'd rather hit the sack with Alex Krycek! Now *there's*
a real man... of course, Harold here isn't so bad either,
is he?"

Harold grinned and appeared embarrassed. "Aw
shucks, Miz Fowley." He paused. "Would you like to
come over to my place for a bit? It's just down the
road."

Before CSM had a chance to say anything, Fowley's
face relaxed into a big grin and she nodded enthusiastically.
"I'd love to!" she exclaimed. "Um-" she turned to CSM.
"You wouldn't mind? Wait, why am I asking you? I don't
need your permission to have fun, do I?" She grabbed
Harold's arm and stood up. "Let's go."

CSM frowned and stood up. "Wait!"

Fowley turned to him. "What?" she asked
exasperatedly.

He thought for a few seconds. "Can I come with
you?"

Fowley's mouth dropped open and she stepped back
over to CSM; she glared directly into his eyes, then
smacked him across the face for the second time that
night. Harold then grabbed CSM's collar and pushed him
forcefully down into his chair, after which the couple
turned and stalked out of the barn, leaving CSM very
shaken up and agitated.

He nonchalantly straightened his tie out and
ignored the looks he was receiving from the other
partygoers, sipping his beer like nothing happened. He
managed somehow to keep his raging emotions concealed
for a few more minutes while he thought about how best
to deal with this situation. Much as he wanted Diana
Fowley, if he couldn't have her no one could, and Harold
Hobbleford was certainly not worthy enough. After a bit,
his emotions and thirst for revenge took over his mind
and he knew what he had to do.

CSM stood up and, nodding courteously to
everyone, left the barn, heading for his car in the
front of the house.

"Hi, uh, can I get you anything sir?" Warren
appeared from the house, heading towards the barn
lugging another keg of beer.

"No, no, thank you. It's been a lovely party,"
CSM replied distantly. Warren beamed.

"Glad you found it enjoyable sir! Hey, where's
your lady friend? She sure was lovely, you're lucky to
have someone like her," Warren said, then paused.
"I hope she enjoyed the party as much as you did, sir?
Cuz-"

"Warren. She left," CSM cut in, glaring at Warren,
who upon closer examination was slightly drunk, which
accounted for his free speech with CSM.

"Did she? Aw shucks, did you get in a fight?
Gee, I-"

CSM reached into his jacket and revealed a sleek
silver pen-shaped object. "Warren, quiet. Forget you
knew anything about her."

Warren's face took on a look of panic as he
stared at the small weapon he was all too familiar with.
"Yes, sir! I mean, uh, who are you? Never seen you '
round these parts..." he picked up the keg and wandered
off in the direction of the barn, too drunk and
frightened to tangle with CSM anymore.

CSM stared after him for a few seconds, then
continued on towards the car. Upon arriving, he got
inside and took out his cell phone; he dialed a number
and had a short conversation with the other party, then
put the phone away and started the car. He took one
look back towards the barn, then turned and drove away,
leaving it all behind him.
____________________
The next day
From the Washington Post
____________________

"A woman from the DC area was found dead this
morning in a small town in Iowa. The cause of death is
still under investigation; the woman had multiple stab
wounds to the vital organs and face, but the weapon
appears to have been a large two-pronged knife of some
sort, resembling an abnormally large version of the
small ones used for holding ears of corn, as described
by an investigator on the scene. The woman was at a
friends house when it happened, and the man she was
with is under suspicion for murder. He was also
injured by the assailant, but managed to survive; he
is now in the ICU at Des Moines General claiming he was
abducted by aliens. No leads have turned up yet, but
investigators are working around the clock to solve
this bizarre murder."

____________________


Please remember everyone, I was hyper and eating corn
at the time I thought this one up ;)
MUST HAVE FEEDBACK!!! *G*