DON'T CALL ME POOKIE - The X Files, Episode 69
Muddle and Maid Scullery Solve The Mystery of the Red Lights
"Scullery, look at this."
Muddle pointed to the large, gaping wound at the base of the throat of a local hooker, Mantilly Lace.
"My God," Scullery said, "what a hickey."
Bending in for a closer look at the corpse, Scullery sneezed daintily as the dead tart's strong perfume wafted heavily into her nose.
"Muddle, look at this," Scullery said, pointing to what seemed to be a longish, large plastic garbage sack that held some vile green liquid and appeared casually dropped beside the oozing corpse.
Muddle bent down for a closer look and then, his truth dawned. "It's an alien condom," he said, "I knew it."
"Muddle, are you kidding? This is a-- a plastic bag. Looks like some street bum vomited into it."
His deducing was not deterred.
"Scullery, this is alien sperm. See the way the liquid undulates and glows?"
"It's phosphorescent paint," she said, "In case you haven't noticed, this alley leads directly to the back door of a poster paint factory."
"Mark my words," said Muddle, "this death was not caused by a human." He grabbed Scullery's shoulders, looking down at her longingly through his machismo, the chest of his Armani suit lightly brushing her face. "Do the autopsy: you'll see."
Then, Muddle suddenly dashed off down the alley, seemingly following the glare from some mysterious red lights.
Scullery, as usual, was left to clean up the mess.
Later, in the coroner's office, they compared notes:
"Well, Muddle, while I cannot say that an alien killed Mantilly, I did find something unusual."
"Told you so," Muddle said, smirking.
"Your apparent glee aside," she said, dryly, "I found a strange substance in the victim's stomach that matched the evidence in the plastic bag."
"She always insisted on swallowing," Muddle muttered.
"This substance is like none I have ever witnessed. After a thorough tox scan and chemical analysis, this liquid matches no known substance on earth."
"Told you so, told you so," Muddle fairly sang this time. Scullery tried not to look annoyed.
"Well, alien or not, it was not what killed this hooker. Her death was caused by a gunshot wound to the right aorta."
"What??" Muddle said, looking truly surprised. "What about her throat? It was ravaged!"
"Alley rats, probably," Scullery said, "I found evidence of small teeth marks. At any rate, this wasn't the work of aliens."
"Scullery, it must be. There is no other reason for her unusual death," Muddle said, and a small tear escaped his left eye as he spoke. "I must contact Deepthroat about this."
Off he dashed again and Scullery sighed, beginning the arduous duty of cleaning up the gore-splattered autopsy room.
Still later, Muddle returned with a thick evidence file and a cold pizza. Scullery had just finished washing the last of the autopsy knives and she appeared quite weary.
"Scullery, look," Muddle said, and he thrust the file in her face. In it was page after page chronicling mysterious prostitute deaths, all by the same method, and all pointing to something very alien indeed.
"Where did you get this?" Scullery asked.
"From Deepthroat," Muddle said, "And look there in the back of the file."
Scullery flipped to the back of the manila folder and her eyes widened when she spotted just what Muddle was referring to. Slowly, she drew out a large, colorful packet.
"The alien condom package," Muddle said smugly, staring at Mantilly's stitched-up body, "I knew we were dealing with them from the get-go."
"Muddle," Scullery said as she unfolded the large cellophane package, "This is an almost-empty jumbo bag of sunflower seeds."
"Oh!" Muddle said. "I've been looking for that. The other package, Scullery."
As her attention returned to the back of bulky file, Muddle accidentally spilled his seeds onto the floor.
Scullery sighed and went to find a broom.
DON'T MISS THE EXCITING CONCLUSION BEGINNING NEXT SEASON!!
Muddle and Maid Scullery Solve The Mystery of the Red Lights
"Scullery, look at this."
Muddle pointed to the large, gaping wound at the base of the throat of a local hooker, Mantilly Lace.
"My God," Scullery said, "what a hickey."
Bending in for a closer look at the corpse, Scullery sneezed daintily as the dead tart's strong perfume wafted heavily into her nose.
"Muddle, look at this," Scullery said, pointing to what seemed to be a longish, large plastic garbage sack that held some vile green liquid and appeared casually dropped beside the oozing corpse.
Muddle bent down for a closer look and then, his truth dawned. "It's an alien condom," he said, "I knew it."
"Muddle, are you kidding? This is a-- a plastic bag. Looks like some street bum vomited into it."
His deducing was not deterred.
"Scullery, this is alien sperm. See the way the liquid undulates and glows?"
"It's phosphorescent paint," she said, "In case you haven't noticed, this alley leads directly to the back door of a poster paint factory."
"Mark my words," said Muddle, "this death was not caused by a human." He grabbed Scullery's shoulders, looking down at her longingly through his machismo, the chest of his Armani suit lightly brushing her face. "Do the autopsy: you'll see."
Then, Muddle suddenly dashed off down the alley, seemingly following the glare from some mysterious red lights.
Scullery, as usual, was left to clean up the mess.
Later, in the coroner's office, they compared notes:
"Well, Muddle, while I cannot say that an alien killed Mantilly, I did find something unusual."
"Told you so," Muddle said, smirking.
"Your apparent glee aside," she said, dryly, "I found a strange substance in the victim's stomach that matched the evidence in the plastic bag."
"She always insisted on swallowing," Muddle muttered.
"This substance is like none I have ever witnessed. After a thorough tox scan and chemical analysis, this liquid matches no known substance on earth."
"Told you so, told you so," Muddle fairly sang this time. Scullery tried not to look annoyed.
"Well, alien or not, it was not what killed this hooker. Her death was caused by a gunshot wound to the right aorta."
"What??" Muddle said, looking truly surprised. "What about her throat? It was ravaged!"
"Alley rats, probably," Scullery said, "I found evidence of small teeth marks. At any rate, this wasn't the work of aliens."
"Scullery, it must be. There is no other reason for her unusual death," Muddle said, and a small tear escaped his left eye as he spoke. "I must contact Deepthroat about this."
Off he dashed again and Scullery sighed, beginning the arduous duty of cleaning up the gore-splattered autopsy room.
Still later, Muddle returned with a thick evidence file and a cold pizza. Scullery had just finished washing the last of the autopsy knives and she appeared quite weary.
"Scullery, look," Muddle said, and he thrust the file in her face. In it was page after page chronicling mysterious prostitute deaths, all by the same method, and all pointing to something very alien indeed.
"Where did you get this?" Scullery asked.
"From Deepthroat," Muddle said, "And look there in the back of the file."
Scullery flipped to the back of the manila folder and her eyes widened when she spotted just what Muddle was referring to. Slowly, she drew out a large, colorful packet.
"The alien condom package," Muddle said smugly, staring at Mantilly's stitched-up body, "I knew we were dealing with them from the get-go."
"Muddle," Scullery said as she unfolded the large cellophane package, "This is an almost-empty jumbo bag of sunflower seeds."
"Oh!" Muddle said. "I've been looking for that. The other package, Scullery."
As her attention returned to the back of bulky file, Muddle accidentally spilled his seeds onto the floor.
Scullery sighed and went to find a broom.
DON'T MISS THE EXCITING CONCLUSION BEGINNING NEXT SEASON!!