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LOVED the premiere. I was SO excited but had NO ONE to discuss it with at work. I work with a bunch of heathens. But they are a nice bunch of heathens and eventually I will talk to the other Phile in the bunch.
[Rant mode on]
On a completely different note, I need to send some clones to my employer's office. They are a bunch of complete incompetents who can't even manage to relay a simple phone message. A phone message that was given twice at great cost to yours truly I might add. Excuse me but I don't work for free. You will want to send me a replacement check to me like yesterday and tell the story of the person who fraudulently cashed the check to someone who gives a bleep. Just give me my bleepin' money.
And to the person who stole my mail? I am so calling the post office first thing in the morning so you better take your sorry -er butt and head out of town as fast as you can. I hope the feds break down your door and beat your sorry behind to a bloody pulp. And after they finish I'm sending the clones after you with torture then kill orders. I work hard for the pittance I receive and I don't need the hassle of trying to retrieve money that you stole. Jerk!
[Rant mode off]
Well, I feel a little better. I'll feel MUCH better tomorrow when I get the status of my paychecks cleared. I'm SO beyond being polite at these people. Well anyway that's things in my corner of the universe. Back to the island where things are infinitely more pleasant.
It's great how they tied in the movie to the season premiere. Too bad I couldn't finish this before the premiere but it really is a LOT of work. I have not been slacking off. (much) Anyway, ranting (about RL anyway) off and on to the "show."
The X-Files: Fight The Future: If You Think That Sounds Bad You Should Hear Me When I'm Sober.
Abbreviations to date:
Caveman 1: CM1
Caveman 2: CM2
Boy 1: B1
Stevie (a.k.a. Boy 2): ST
Boy 3: B3
Boy 4: B4
Captain Miles Cooles: CMC
Men in Biohazard suits: MIB
Dude with Tie (Bronschweig): DWT
Deputy Type Guy: DTG
Skinner: Sk
Generic Agent Type 1: GAT1
The Big Cheese (AKA S.A.C. Michaud): TBC
Scully: S
Mulder: M
Rent-a-cop 1: RAC1
Generic Agent Type 2: GAT2
Nameless Agent: NA
Nameless Agent 2: NA2
Irritating, annoying, wench: IAW
Number of times Scully has called Mulder by his last name:
19
Number of times Mulder has called Scully by her last name:
7
Three shot glasses are lined up on a bar, a silent testimony to one man's attempt to drink his troubles away.
Bartender (Bar): I think this about exceeds your minimum daily requirement.
M takes the drink and finishes it without saying a word. <I can't rightfully call it knocking it back.> He attempts to put the glass down, knocking over the other glasses in the process.
Bar: You gotta train for that kind of heavy lifting. [She clears off the bar] Poopy day? <What the hell kind of bartender is this? Poopy? Poopy? Who does she think she's talking to a kindergartner? Granted M often acts like a child (a spoiled one to boot) but she doesn't know that.>
M points at the bartender then points to the spot in front of him. <Nice manners there Mulder.> [The bartender pours another drink.]
The scene moves to a 60 something year old man.
[Offscreen] Bar: So what do you do?
Back to M.
M: What do I do? <Yes Mulder do. You know that thing you do to earn the money you hate to part with.>
Bar: Mmmm hmmm.
[M takes a drink.]
M: What do I do? I'm the key figure in an ongoing government charade. A plot to conceal the truth about the existence of extra-terrestrials. It's a global conspiracy actually with key players at the highest levels of power and it reaches down into the lives of every man, woman, and child on this planet. [he laughs bitterly] So of course, no one believes me. I'm a, I'm an annoyance to my superiors, a joke to my peers. <A crazy pain in the ass to my long suffering partner.> They call me Spooky, Spooky Mulder whose sister was abducted by aliens when he was just a kid and now chases after little green men<I thought they were gray.> with a badge and a gun shouting to the heavens or anyone who will listen that the fix is in, the sky is falling. And when it hits it's going to be the shitstorm of all time.
Bar: Well I would say that about does it Spooky.
M: Does what?
Bar: Well looks like 86 is your lucky number.
M: You know, 1 is the loneliest number. <He would know. I'm surprised he didn't make a stink at the amount of the bill. On the other hand I suppose that if one wanted to get drunk cheap on would do so at home.>
M turns to where the old man was but the old man's gone. He stands up making a very obvious effort to pull himself together and with measured steps manages to walk with minimal stumbling to the men's room. It's out of order. <Isn't that a health code violation? Why am I not surprised that M would hang out in a bar with such a problem?> He tries the ladies room.
M: Hello?
Mystery woman (MW): Hello?
M: Sorry.
His wandering leads him to a door marked exit.
Apparently M didn't care for the movie "Independence Day" because that is exactly what he uses as his urinal. I will refrain from commenting on his technique. The old man (OM) exits the same door M just used.
OM: Is that official FBI business? <snicker>
M: [turns his head] What?
OM: Bet the bureau is accusing you of the same thing in Dallas, standing around holding your yank while bombs are exploding. <I don't think I would have put it quite like that. Although it is an apt description.>
M: Do I know you? <Like that's ever stopped you before. How well do you know the Uniblonder?>
OM: No but I've been watching your career for a good while. Back when you were a promising young agent. Before that. <Well with all the insubordination and other wacky things that happen around M it must make for interesting reading.>
M: You come out here for a reason?
OM: Yeah I did. [Unzips and walks to the wall] <he couldn't walk then unzip?> My name is Kurtzweil. Dr. Alvin Kurtzweil. <The name's Bond, James Bond.>
M: Am I supposed to know that name?
OM: I'm an old friend of your father's. Back in the department of state we were what you might call fellow travelers but his disenchantment outlasted mine.
M: [Mumbled] Right. [M walks away. OM follows him back into the bar.] How did you find me?
OM: I heard you come in here now and again. Figured you'd be needing a little drinky tonight. <What is it with these kindergarten names anyway?>
M: You a reporter? [He puts on his coat]
OM: I'm a doctor but I think I think I mentioned that. OB-GYN. <Ewww! Can you imagine getting a pelvic exam from him? Yuck!!!>
OM: [following M out of the bar.] There's something you don't know about the bombing in Dallas.
M: What's that?
OM: S.A.C. Darius Michaud never tried or intended to defuse that bomb.
M: He just let the bomb explode in his face huh?
OM: What's the question no one's asking? Why THAT building? Why not the federal building?
M: [still holding out his hand in an attempt to flag a cab] The federal building was too well guarded. <A very Scully like answer.>
OM: No. They put the bomb in the building across the street because it DID have federal offices there. The Federal Emergency Management Agency had a provincial medical quarantine office there, which is where the bodies were found. But that's the thing the thing you didn't know the thing you'd never think to check. Those people were already dead.
M: Before the bomb went off? <Those shots are really slowing down that brain of your huh Mulder?>
OM: That's what I'm saying.
M: Darius Michaud was a 22 year veteran of the bureau…
OM: Darius Michaud was a patriot. The people he was loyal to know their way around Dallas. They blew that building to hide something. Maybe something they couldn't predict. <And what a good job they're doing too. NOT! Why don't they just get a billboard. It would be more discrete.>
M: You're saying that they destroyed an entire building to hide the bodies of three firemen. <And because they're too stupid to understand the concept of subtlety.>
OM: And one little boy.
M: I think you're full of shit. <now he starts disbelieving people? Yeah right.>
OM: [laughs] Do you? <See Kurtzweil doesn't believe M either.> [M gets into the cab he takes one last look at Kurtzweil before closing the cab door.]
M: [to cabbie] Arlington please. [the cabbie starts to drive toward Arlington.] Actually, you know, uh let's go to Georgetown. Let's go to Georgetown.
Meanwhile in Georgetown, S is having troubles of her own. Her potential monumental decision is keeping her up. Either that or M's insomnia is contagious. A pounding on the door keeps her from making any attempt at somnolence. She answers the door. <Without looking. What is wrong with her? S knows better than that. Unless it's gotten to the point where the only person knocking at her door is M.> On the other side of the door is a drunken M. <As opposed to a sober Faux M AKA Eddie Van Blundht. I've read fanfic (of the smutty variety) that starts with a drunken M showing up at S's door.>
M: Ah I woke you. Did I wake you?
S: No.
M: Why not it's 3 in the morning?
S: Are you drunk Mulder?
M: I-I-I was until about 20 minutes ago yeah. <Hmmm, you still look kinda drunk to me.>
S: Was that before or after you decided to come here?
M: What exactly are you implying? <That you're a punk who can only get up the nerve to make a move on her after drinking too much.>
S: [exasperated] Go home Mulder.
M: Get dressed.
S: It's late.
M: Get dressed.
S: What are you doing? <Besides being a drunken pain in the ass?>
M: Just get dressed and I'll explain on the way. <Typical M antics. At least he didn't ditch her this time.>
That Mulder has some nerve. He's lucky Scully didn't shoot him again for showing up on her doorstep at 3 am. Drunk at that. He'd better put on the puppy dog face big time because I can't imagine how else Scully would forgive him. (Actually I can but it's not the fodder for a family forum.)
Considering how paranoid Mulder is he sure is a creature of habit. Granted I may have watch one James Bond movie too many but it seems to me that if you don't want people tracking your movements you might want to mix up the routine a bit. Hmm. I can see it now. Some baddie decides to grab Mulder. They study Mulder's routine. Hmm. The bar on Thursdays when in town, Monday night bowling, the triple X movie house on Fridays, we'll snatch him then before the blood rushes back to his brain.
How does Kurtzweil know what he knows? He's obviously not an active member of the consortium. (I know I'm getting ahead of myself AGAIN.) Could it be that the consortium is as sloppy with their information as they are with their body removal technique? You would think after the debacle involving Krycek and the tape, they would make the info harder to get one's hands on. The syndicate never learns.
I noticed that Mulder didn't get a chance to wash his hands. Why don't men wash their hands after using the men's room. (Or the nearest wall) Yuck!
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