[CUT TO: INT. PEPSI CENTER — BOX SEATS]
[The gangs has been escorted to their special boxed seats, they can see the entire rink from their seats. Their box is completely enclosed, heated and has a table with cheese pizzas, pitchers of beer and other snacks for the VIPs. Mulder bolts into the room.]
MULDER: (Gasp) HONEY ROASTED PEANUTS!
[He grabs a handful and crams then in his mouth.]
MULDER: (Chewing) MMM!!!
[The rest of the gang enters the box. Scully is glancing around, worried.]
SCULLY: What are we going to do about Krycek? He can't play hockey! He's gonna be killed!
DOGGETT: (Mumbles) Good.
SCULLY: What was that?
DOGGETT: Er… ahh… I said, we should figure out a way to help him.
SCULLY: I agree.
CASSIE: (Mumbling) There's no place like home, there's no place like home…
[Monica rushes to large windows overseeing the Pepsi Center ice.]
MONICA: OOH! DANA, LOOK!
[She points up at the JumboTron where they are showing clips of some different Avalanche games, Peter Forsberg is shown, smiling and congradulating some teammates on a win.]
DANA: Oooohhh…
CERASI: OHMIGOD, IT'S PETER FORSBERG!
KRISTI: Oh, will you shut up?! I am so sick of hearing about that guy!
CERASI: (Pouts)
[CUT TO: INT. — WASHINGTON CAPITALS LOCKER ROOM]
KRYCEK: But I'm telling you! I can't play hockey, man; I just dressed up as a hockey guy to pick up Swedish chicks!
ASSISTANT COACH: Yeah, save it. We know you were just trying to get out of practice.
[He shoves Krycek through door leading to the locker room, all the players are sitting on bench, listening to the coach dole out their lines.]
ASSISTANT COACH: I found him, Coach, hangin' out with some pretty girls upstairs.
[The Coach looks up.]
COACH: KRYCEK! There you are! You missed warm-ups! Did you get lost at the airport? What took you so long to get here?
KRYCEK: (Stuttering) No! You don't understand! I don't play-…
COACH: What don't I understand? That you didn't get here in time, and the game starts in ten minutes?
[He looks Krycek up and down.]
COACH: (Rolls his eyes) At least you're in your gear… for God's sake.
KRYCEK: Errr… I… I don't know how to play hockey!
CAPS PLAYER #1: We know you're trying to fake that spleen injury again, Krycek, so just can the excuses!
COACH: Listen up! We know that the Avalanche first line is going to kick our ass pretty badly. But if we can get in the slot on the Swiss Miss, then we should be able to pull off a win!
KRYCEK: [Whispers to nearest player] What's a slot? And a Swiss Miss? Are they serving hot chocolate?
CAPS PLAYER #2: Err… [Gets up, and moves to a different bench]
COACH: All right Caps, now let's go show them how we play hockey in D.C.! Krycek, you're center on the first line!
KRYCEK: (Pales) Wha-…
[Krycek passes out.]
COACH: There he goes again! Trying to get out of playing! Get the man some smelling salts!
[The players, however, decide instead to use their own method, and slap Krycek back into consciousness.]
KRYCEK: (Screams) MOMMY!
COACH: Err… ahh… GET ON THE ICE!
[CUT TO: INT. — PEPSI CENTER — CENTER ICE]
[Krycek really doesn't have any choice except to get out to the ice, play, fake an injury and go upstairs and have some pizza with the Super Buddies. Krycek turns to the coach once more to try to convice him he's not who he seems he is.]
KRYCEK: But Coach! I'm telling you! I'm not the real Krycek!
[The Coach pushes Krycek out onto the ice.]
COACH: You used that one last week, Krycek!
[Krycek whimpers and shuffles out to center ice. The lights glow brighter, the crowd is cheering and going nuts and Krycek's about to have a breakdown. The Linesman skates over.]
LINESMAN: C'mon, get out to center ice, this game is running late!
[Krycek slowly makes his way out toward center ice and stands in front of Avalanche captain Joe Sakic.]
KRYCEK: (Nerviously) Heh, my friend Dana really likes you…
SAKIC: (Ignores him) You're goin' down, Krycek! You're gonna pay for what you did to Tanguay last year!
KRYCEK: (Pales again) I think I'm going to wet myself!
LINESMAN: All right, save it for later, boys!
KRYCEK: (Screams) I'M GONNA DIE!
SAKIC: What the… ?
[The buzzer sounds and the puck falls to the ice, but Sakic is so dumbfounded by Krycek's outburst that he just stands there. Krycek kicks the puck to a Washington teammate and tries to skate away, but is instantly hip-checked by the oncoming Peter Forsberg.]
[CUT TO: INT. — PEPSI CENTER— BOX SEATS]
CERASI: WOO! ALL RIGHT!
[CUT TO: INT. — PEPSI CENTER— ICE]
KRYCEK: AHHH! MOMMY!
[Krycek tries to skate out of the way of Right-Winger Dan Hinote and is body-checked into the boards.]
[CUT TO: INT. — PEPSI CENTER— BOX SEATS]
SCULLY: Poor Krycek! He's getting beat up!
[We pan behind Scully's shoulder, where Mulder takes another handful of peanuts, crams them in his mouth and quietly sneaks out the door. Doggett leans over to Skinner.]
DOGGETT: Hey, Q-Ball, bet you fifty bucks Krycek is dead before the second period!
SKINNER: (Blinks) Did you just call me Q-Ball?
DOGGETT: Err…
SKINNER: IT'S A BET!
[CUT TO: INT. — PEPSI CENTER— ICE]
[Krycek is slipping and sliding on the ice, he's trying to get used to his hockey skates. He jerks backward and his stick flies upward, smaking Defenseman Adam Foote in the face with his stick. Foote falls to the ice, his nose bloodied. The ref blows his whistle, makes the hand motion for High-Sticking and points at Krycek. Alex has just earned himself two minutes in the box.]
KRYCEK: [Skates up to Foote] Whoops! Sorry! It was an accident!
FOOTE: [Growls] PRICK!
[Foote throws down his gloves and stick and before Alex really knows what's happening, Foote tackles Krycek and begins to pummel him. After a moment the ref pulls Foote off of Sasha. Sasha is lying on the ice Paul Kariya style, battered, bruised and bloody.]
REFEREE: [Looks down at Krycek] Man, you look like crap!
[Krycek looks like he is waking up from a nightmare. He looks bewildered. Reality kicks in and he glances around quickly and nerviously. He makes eye contact with the ref.]
KRYCEK: OH MY GOD, THEY'RE STEALING MY UNDERPANTS!
REFEREE: Err…
[Krycek pulls himself to his feet, picks up his stick and tries to skate off.]
REFEREE: Hold it, Krycek! Two minutes in the box for high-sticking!
KRYCEK: WHAT?! YOU DARE TO PUT ME IN THE BOX!?
REFEREE: GET TO THE BOX!
KRYCEK: Yes, of course! [Hurries off, scared]
[CUT TO: INT. — PEPSI CENTER— BOX SEATS]
BRAD: Did you see that? That Foote guy really kicked Krycek's butt!
MONICA: Yeah, wasn't that awesome?
DOGGETT: (Turns to Mulder) Did you see that? (Blinks) Hey—where the hell is Mulder?
[CUT TO: INT. — PEPSI CENTER— GLASS BEHIND AEBISCHER'S NET]
[Mulder wanders down to ice-level, his autograph book in hand. He approaches the glass behind Avalanche goalie David Aebischer. Mulder beats on the glass.]
MULDER: (Yelling) HEY MR. GOALIE MAN!
[Aebischer ignores him and Mulder thinks that Aebischer must not be able to hear him. Looking around, Mulder spots an empty popcorn tub. He turns it upside down and climbs onto it. He jumps as high as can and grabs onto the edge of the glass and peers down at the Swiss goalie.]
MULDER: MR. GOALIE MAN!
AEBISCHER: (Turns around) What the hell?
MULDER: MR. GOALIE MAN! I THINK YOU'RE DOING A GREAT JOB!
AEBISCHER: Huh? Go away! Can't you see I'm busy?
[Aebischer is not busy, as the play has been stopped so they can fix Adam Foote's nose.]
MULDER: MR. GOALIE MAN! CAN I HAVE YOUR AUTOGRAPH?!
AEBISCHER: Get out of here, before I kick your ass!
MULDER: MY FRIEND JOHN CALLS YOU THE SWISS MISS! DO YOU DRINK A LOT OF HOT CHOCOLATE?
AEBISCHER: NO! NOW LEAVE ME ALONE!
MULDER: MR. GOALIE MAN! DO YOU WANT TO JOIN SUPER BUDDIES?
AEBISCHER: What's that, some kind of cult?
MULDER: (Gasps) NO! Super Buddies is a big group of friends and we do fun stuff together! Like go to hockey games, and go on camping trips and stuff!
AEBISCHER: (Annoyed) I don't want to join your stupid cult! Now leave me alone!
MULDER: (Getting teary eyed) Super Buddies isn't a cult! We have lots of fun and we're all good friends!
AEBISCHER: THAT'S IT!
[Aebischer leaves the safety of his crease, reaches up to Mulder and hauls his butt down onto the ice. Mulder screams.]
AEBISCHER: YOU'RE MY BITCH NOW, PENCIL NECK!
[The buzzer sounds. The game is starting again. Aebischer glances around frantically. Abby throws Mulder into his net.]
AEBISCHER: I'll deal with your skinny ass later!
MULDER: AHHHH!!!
[Krycek, fresh from the box, skates to the face off circle in the Avalanche zone to start the play. In the background, we can see Mulder attempting to escape from Aebischer's Net of Doom, Abby, however, has other ideas. He thwaps Mulder with his blocker stick and shoves him back into the net. Krycek puts his stick on the ice, a bit more confident now. The puck hits the ice and the crowd goes quiet as the game resumes. Krycek finally gets the puck on the blade of his stick, dekes to the left and somehow manages to pull of a break-away.]
KRYCEK: I'M DOIN' IT! I CAN'T BELIEVE I'M DOIN' IT!!
KOLZIG: WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!? WRONG NET, YOU IDIOT! GO THE OTHER WAY!
[Krycek, however, doesn't pay attention. As he knows is the cold wind against his cheeks, the give of the ice under his blades, the roar of the crowd in his ears as he quickly zooms toward the goalie.]
KRYCEK: I'M DOING IT!
[Krycek pulls his arm back and brings his stick level with his shoulder. He puts all his weight on his stick as the puck glides into posistion. There's a deafening crack as the stick hits the puck and Krycek's monster slap-shot makes the red light come on and the horn sounds as the goal judges confirm the goal. The crowd looks confused for a moment then quickly starts to cheer.]
KRYCEK: YEAAHHH! I'M DA MAN!
KOLZIG: YOU FREAKIN' IDIOT!
KRYCEK: Yeaahhh, you're just jealous 'cause you're not a Russian Love Machine!
KOLZIG: No, you MORON, you just scored for THE OTHER TEAM!
KRYCEK: Aw, hell.
[In a vain attempt to cover his screw up, Krycek quickly skates to center ice, shoving several celebrating Av's players out of the way and motions for Aebischer to come out and get his medicine.]
AEBISCHER: (To himself) Is this guy for real?
KRYCEK: C'MON AND GET SOME, YOU SWISS MISS!
AEBISCHER: ARGH! DON'T CALL ME THAT!
[Aebischer grinds his teeth and grabs Mulder's collar.]
AEBISCHER: Come on, bitch!
[He hauls Mulder out to center ice with him. Krycek shakes off his gloves and puts up his fists.]
KRYCEK: YOU WANT SOME?! HUH?! YOU FREAKIN' WANT SOME?! WHO'S 'YO DADDY?!
[In response, Abby slides to a stop and decides to play a little game of crack-the-whip. With a mighty swing, Abby sends Mulder flying across the ice.]
MULDER: AHHHHH!!
[Mulder collides with Krycek, sending him crashing to the ice.]
MULDER: Owwie…
KRYCEK: Mulder? What the hell are you doing down here?
MULDER: I don't feel so good. [Passes out]
AEBISCHER: Oh well.
[CUT TO: INT. — PEPSI CENTER— BOX SEATS]
DOGGETT: This is the most screwed-up hockey game I've ever seen!
CERASI: You're telling me!
MONICA: All they're doing is fighting! Men are such Neanderthals!
[Brad glances at Monica.]
BRAD: That's not what you said last night…
MONICA: [Giggles]
CERASI: RIGHT, anyway…
[CUT TO: INT. — PEPSI CENTER— ICE]
[Krycek wakes up on the bench.]
KRYCEK: What—WHAT AM I DOING HERE?!?
COACH: What the hell were you thinking?
KRYCEK: I DEMAND TO BE PUT BACK ON THE ICE! I'm a Russian hockey star!
COACH: You're not going back on the ice. And who is this guy, anyways?
[The Coach points at Mulder, who's curled up under the bench, sucking his thumb and snuggling a brown teddy bear wearing a burgandy Colorado Avalanche sweater.]
COACH: He wouldn't calm down until he got his teddy bear, so we had to hawk one from a kid in the stands!
KRYCEK: (Shrugs) I don't know, he's just some loser. I've never seen him before in my life.
[Mulder wakes up.]
MULDER: But Sasha! How can you say that?! We live together! You're my favorite Super Buddy!
KRYCEK: (Kicks)
MULDER: OW!
VOICE: (O.S.) HEY! THAT GUY STOLE MY JERSEY!
[Everyone turns to look at the owner of the voice. He's tall, dark and handsome. He sort of looks like Sergei Fedrov of Anaheim, (by way of Detriot). Suddenly, everyone realizes that this is the real Krycek.]
ALEXEI KRYCEK: (Storms over to our Krycek) Who do you think you are?! You're impersonating me!
KRYCEK: Erm… uh…
COACH: Wait a second… (looks at Krycek) … you're not the real Krycek?
KRYCEK: I TOLD YOU THAT!
COACH: NO YOU DIDN'T!
MULDER: Yes, he did!
COACH: You stay out of this!
MULDER: Oh. Okay. (Turns to Alexei) Hi!
ALEXEI: Uh. Hi.
MULDER: Do you want to join Super Buddies?
ALEXEI: Get bent.
MULDER: (Sniffles)
ALEXEI: o.O
[Mulder starts sobbing. The Coach and the rest of the Captials players sitting on the bench look startled.]
ALEXEI: (Startled) Uh, oh, all right, fine! I'll join! How much does it cost?
MULDER: (Happy) It doesn't cost anything! (Shakes Alexei's hand) Welcome to Super Buddies!!!
[The gangs has been escorted to their special boxed seats, they can see the entire rink from their seats. Their box is completely enclosed, heated and has a table with cheese pizzas, pitchers of beer and other snacks for the VIPs. Mulder bolts into the room.]
MULDER: (Gasp) HONEY ROASTED PEANUTS!
[He grabs a handful and crams then in his mouth.]
MULDER: (Chewing) MMM!!!
[The rest of the gang enters the box. Scully is glancing around, worried.]
SCULLY: What are we going to do about Krycek? He can't play hockey! He's gonna be killed!
DOGGETT: (Mumbles) Good.
SCULLY: What was that?
DOGGETT: Er… ahh… I said, we should figure out a way to help him.
SCULLY: I agree.
CASSIE: (Mumbling) There's no place like home, there's no place like home…
[Monica rushes to large windows overseeing the Pepsi Center ice.]
MONICA: OOH! DANA, LOOK!
[She points up at the JumboTron where they are showing clips of some different Avalanche games, Peter Forsberg is shown, smiling and congradulating some teammates on a win.]
DANA: Oooohhh…
CERASI: OHMIGOD, IT'S PETER FORSBERG!
KRISTI: Oh, will you shut up?! I am so sick of hearing about that guy!
CERASI: (Pouts)
[CUT TO: INT. — WASHINGTON CAPITALS LOCKER ROOM]
KRYCEK: But I'm telling you! I can't play hockey, man; I just dressed up as a hockey guy to pick up Swedish chicks!
ASSISTANT COACH: Yeah, save it. We know you were just trying to get out of practice.
[He shoves Krycek through door leading to the locker room, all the players are sitting on bench, listening to the coach dole out their lines.]
ASSISTANT COACH: I found him, Coach, hangin' out with some pretty girls upstairs.
[The Coach looks up.]
COACH: KRYCEK! There you are! You missed warm-ups! Did you get lost at the airport? What took you so long to get here?
KRYCEK: (Stuttering) No! You don't understand! I don't play-…
COACH: What don't I understand? That you didn't get here in time, and the game starts in ten minutes?
[He looks Krycek up and down.]
COACH: (Rolls his eyes) At least you're in your gear… for God's sake.
KRYCEK: Errr… I… I don't know how to play hockey!
CAPS PLAYER #1: We know you're trying to fake that spleen injury again, Krycek, so just can the excuses!
COACH: Listen up! We know that the Avalanche first line is going to kick our ass pretty badly. But if we can get in the slot on the Swiss Miss, then we should be able to pull off a win!
KRYCEK: [Whispers to nearest player] What's a slot? And a Swiss Miss? Are they serving hot chocolate?
CAPS PLAYER #2: Err… [Gets up, and moves to a different bench]
COACH: All right Caps, now let's go show them how we play hockey in D.C.! Krycek, you're center on the first line!
KRYCEK: (Pales) Wha-…
[Krycek passes out.]
COACH: There he goes again! Trying to get out of playing! Get the man some smelling salts!
[The players, however, decide instead to use their own method, and slap Krycek back into consciousness.]
KRYCEK: (Screams) MOMMY!
COACH: Err… ahh… GET ON THE ICE!
[CUT TO: INT. — PEPSI CENTER — CENTER ICE]
[Krycek really doesn't have any choice except to get out to the ice, play, fake an injury and go upstairs and have some pizza with the Super Buddies. Krycek turns to the coach once more to try to convice him he's not who he seems he is.]
KRYCEK: But Coach! I'm telling you! I'm not the real Krycek!
[The Coach pushes Krycek out onto the ice.]
COACH: You used that one last week, Krycek!
[Krycek whimpers and shuffles out to center ice. The lights glow brighter, the crowd is cheering and going nuts and Krycek's about to have a breakdown. The Linesman skates over.]
LINESMAN: C'mon, get out to center ice, this game is running late!
[Krycek slowly makes his way out toward center ice and stands in front of Avalanche captain Joe Sakic.]
KRYCEK: (Nerviously) Heh, my friend Dana really likes you…
SAKIC: (Ignores him) You're goin' down, Krycek! You're gonna pay for what you did to Tanguay last year!
KRYCEK: (Pales again) I think I'm going to wet myself!
LINESMAN: All right, save it for later, boys!
KRYCEK: (Screams) I'M GONNA DIE!
SAKIC: What the… ?
[The buzzer sounds and the puck falls to the ice, but Sakic is so dumbfounded by Krycek's outburst that he just stands there. Krycek kicks the puck to a Washington teammate and tries to skate away, but is instantly hip-checked by the oncoming Peter Forsberg.]
[CUT TO: INT. — PEPSI CENTER— BOX SEATS]
CERASI: WOO! ALL RIGHT!
[CUT TO: INT. — PEPSI CENTER— ICE]
KRYCEK: AHHH! MOMMY!
[Krycek tries to skate out of the way of Right-Winger Dan Hinote and is body-checked into the boards.]
[CUT TO: INT. — PEPSI CENTER— BOX SEATS]
SCULLY: Poor Krycek! He's getting beat up!
[We pan behind Scully's shoulder, where Mulder takes another handful of peanuts, crams them in his mouth and quietly sneaks out the door. Doggett leans over to Skinner.]
DOGGETT: Hey, Q-Ball, bet you fifty bucks Krycek is dead before the second period!
SKINNER: (Blinks) Did you just call me Q-Ball?
DOGGETT: Err…
SKINNER: IT'S A BET!
[CUT TO: INT. — PEPSI CENTER— ICE]
[Krycek is slipping and sliding on the ice, he's trying to get used to his hockey skates. He jerks backward and his stick flies upward, smaking Defenseman Adam Foote in the face with his stick. Foote falls to the ice, his nose bloodied. The ref blows his whistle, makes the hand motion for High-Sticking and points at Krycek. Alex has just earned himself two minutes in the box.]
KRYCEK: [Skates up to Foote] Whoops! Sorry! It was an accident!
FOOTE: [Growls] PRICK!
[Foote throws down his gloves and stick and before Alex really knows what's happening, Foote tackles Krycek and begins to pummel him. After a moment the ref pulls Foote off of Sasha. Sasha is lying on the ice Paul Kariya style, battered, bruised and bloody.]
REFEREE: [Looks down at Krycek] Man, you look like crap!
[Krycek looks like he is waking up from a nightmare. He looks bewildered. Reality kicks in and he glances around quickly and nerviously. He makes eye contact with the ref.]
KRYCEK: OH MY GOD, THEY'RE STEALING MY UNDERPANTS!
REFEREE: Err…
[Krycek pulls himself to his feet, picks up his stick and tries to skate off.]
REFEREE: Hold it, Krycek! Two minutes in the box for high-sticking!
KRYCEK: WHAT?! YOU DARE TO PUT ME IN THE BOX!?
REFEREE: GET TO THE BOX!
KRYCEK: Yes, of course! [Hurries off, scared]
[CUT TO: INT. — PEPSI CENTER— BOX SEATS]
BRAD: Did you see that? That Foote guy really kicked Krycek's butt!
MONICA: Yeah, wasn't that awesome?
DOGGETT: (Turns to Mulder) Did you see that? (Blinks) Hey—where the hell is Mulder?
[CUT TO: INT. — PEPSI CENTER— GLASS BEHIND AEBISCHER'S NET]
[Mulder wanders down to ice-level, his autograph book in hand. He approaches the glass behind Avalanche goalie David Aebischer. Mulder beats on the glass.]
MULDER: (Yelling) HEY MR. GOALIE MAN!
[Aebischer ignores him and Mulder thinks that Aebischer must not be able to hear him. Looking around, Mulder spots an empty popcorn tub. He turns it upside down and climbs onto it. He jumps as high as can and grabs onto the edge of the glass and peers down at the Swiss goalie.]
MULDER: MR. GOALIE MAN!
AEBISCHER: (Turns around) What the hell?
MULDER: MR. GOALIE MAN! I THINK YOU'RE DOING A GREAT JOB!
AEBISCHER: Huh? Go away! Can't you see I'm busy?
[Aebischer is not busy, as the play has been stopped so they can fix Adam Foote's nose.]
MULDER: MR. GOALIE MAN! CAN I HAVE YOUR AUTOGRAPH?!
AEBISCHER: Get out of here, before I kick your ass!
MULDER: MY FRIEND JOHN CALLS YOU THE SWISS MISS! DO YOU DRINK A LOT OF HOT CHOCOLATE?
AEBISCHER: NO! NOW LEAVE ME ALONE!
MULDER: MR. GOALIE MAN! DO YOU WANT TO JOIN SUPER BUDDIES?
AEBISCHER: What's that, some kind of cult?
MULDER: (Gasps) NO! Super Buddies is a big group of friends and we do fun stuff together! Like go to hockey games, and go on camping trips and stuff!
AEBISCHER: (Annoyed) I don't want to join your stupid cult! Now leave me alone!
MULDER: (Getting teary eyed) Super Buddies isn't a cult! We have lots of fun and we're all good friends!
AEBISCHER: THAT'S IT!
[Aebischer leaves the safety of his crease, reaches up to Mulder and hauls his butt down onto the ice. Mulder screams.]
AEBISCHER: YOU'RE MY BITCH NOW, PENCIL NECK!
[The buzzer sounds. The game is starting again. Aebischer glances around frantically. Abby throws Mulder into his net.]
AEBISCHER: I'll deal with your skinny ass later!
MULDER: AHHHH!!!
[Krycek, fresh from the box, skates to the face off circle in the Avalanche zone to start the play. In the background, we can see Mulder attempting to escape from Aebischer's Net of Doom, Abby, however, has other ideas. He thwaps Mulder with his blocker stick and shoves him back into the net. Krycek puts his stick on the ice, a bit more confident now. The puck hits the ice and the crowd goes quiet as the game resumes. Krycek finally gets the puck on the blade of his stick, dekes to the left and somehow manages to pull of a break-away.]
KRYCEK: I'M DOIN' IT! I CAN'T BELIEVE I'M DOIN' IT!!
KOLZIG: WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!? WRONG NET, YOU IDIOT! GO THE OTHER WAY!
[Krycek, however, doesn't pay attention. As he knows is the cold wind against his cheeks, the give of the ice under his blades, the roar of the crowd in his ears as he quickly zooms toward the goalie.]
KRYCEK: I'M DOING IT!
[Krycek pulls his arm back and brings his stick level with his shoulder. He puts all his weight on his stick as the puck glides into posistion. There's a deafening crack as the stick hits the puck and Krycek's monster slap-shot makes the red light come on and the horn sounds as the goal judges confirm the goal. The crowd looks confused for a moment then quickly starts to cheer.]
KRYCEK: YEAAHHH! I'M DA MAN!
KOLZIG: YOU FREAKIN' IDIOT!
KRYCEK: Yeaahhh, you're just jealous 'cause you're not a Russian Love Machine!
KOLZIG: No, you MORON, you just scored for THE OTHER TEAM!
KRYCEK: Aw, hell.
[In a vain attempt to cover his screw up, Krycek quickly skates to center ice, shoving several celebrating Av's players out of the way and motions for Aebischer to come out and get his medicine.]
AEBISCHER: (To himself) Is this guy for real?
KRYCEK: C'MON AND GET SOME, YOU SWISS MISS!
AEBISCHER: ARGH! DON'T CALL ME THAT!
[Aebischer grinds his teeth and grabs Mulder's collar.]
AEBISCHER: Come on, bitch!
[He hauls Mulder out to center ice with him. Krycek shakes off his gloves and puts up his fists.]
KRYCEK: YOU WANT SOME?! HUH?! YOU FREAKIN' WANT SOME?! WHO'S 'YO DADDY?!
[In response, Abby slides to a stop and decides to play a little game of crack-the-whip. With a mighty swing, Abby sends Mulder flying across the ice.]
MULDER: AHHHHH!!
[Mulder collides with Krycek, sending him crashing to the ice.]
MULDER: Owwie…
KRYCEK: Mulder? What the hell are you doing down here?
MULDER: I don't feel so good. [Passes out]
AEBISCHER: Oh well.
[CUT TO: INT. — PEPSI CENTER— BOX SEATS]
DOGGETT: This is the most screwed-up hockey game I've ever seen!
CERASI: You're telling me!
MONICA: All they're doing is fighting! Men are such Neanderthals!
[Brad glances at Monica.]
BRAD: That's not what you said last night…
MONICA: [Giggles]
CERASI: RIGHT, anyway…
[CUT TO: INT. — PEPSI CENTER— ICE]
[Krycek wakes up on the bench.]
KRYCEK: What—WHAT AM I DOING HERE?!?
COACH: What the hell were you thinking?
KRYCEK: I DEMAND TO BE PUT BACK ON THE ICE! I'm a Russian hockey star!
COACH: You're not going back on the ice. And who is this guy, anyways?
[The Coach points at Mulder, who's curled up under the bench, sucking his thumb and snuggling a brown teddy bear wearing a burgandy Colorado Avalanche sweater.]
COACH: He wouldn't calm down until he got his teddy bear, so we had to hawk one from a kid in the stands!
KRYCEK: (Shrugs) I don't know, he's just some loser. I've never seen him before in my life.
[Mulder wakes up.]
MULDER: But Sasha! How can you say that?! We live together! You're my favorite Super Buddy!
KRYCEK: (Kicks)
MULDER: OW!
VOICE: (O.S.) HEY! THAT GUY STOLE MY JERSEY!
[Everyone turns to look at the owner of the voice. He's tall, dark and handsome. He sort of looks like Sergei Fedrov of Anaheim, (by way of Detriot). Suddenly, everyone realizes that this is the real Krycek.]
ALEXEI KRYCEK: (Storms over to our Krycek) Who do you think you are?! You're impersonating me!
KRYCEK: Erm… uh…
COACH: Wait a second… (looks at Krycek) … you're not the real Krycek?
KRYCEK: I TOLD YOU THAT!
COACH: NO YOU DIDN'T!
MULDER: Yes, he did!
COACH: You stay out of this!
MULDER: Oh. Okay. (Turns to Alexei) Hi!
ALEXEI: Uh. Hi.
MULDER: Do you want to join Super Buddies?
ALEXEI: Get bent.
MULDER: (Sniffles)
ALEXEI: o.O
[Mulder starts sobbing. The Coach and the rest of the Captials players sitting on the bench look startled.]
ALEXEI: (Startled) Uh, oh, all right, fine! I'll join! How much does it cost?
MULDER: (Happy) It doesn't cost anything! (Shakes Alexei's hand) Welcome to Super Buddies!!!