Got Milk?

by Henry Wyckoff

Mulder was furious at Cancerman. Things had gone too far, and it was time to make him pay. Really pay. And he knew how to do it, too.

Scully arrived. "I got your message, Mulder. What's wrong?"

Mulder smiled maniacally. "I'm going to nail Cancerman, and I thought I'd let you watch!"

She looked at him warily, "What did you do, Mulder?"

"I have a genuine alien body inside, or that's what Cancerman thinks. I'll bet he's going to come in and wipe away the evidence... and when he does..."

They watched from a hidden place, and as if on cue, they smelled some cheap cigarettes. Next came the man, and he looked at the dead alien dispassionately. "You're too late, Mulder," the man said softly as he grabbed a bottle of vodka out of his coat pocket and poured it all over the alien. Next, he dropped his cigarette on it, and it lit on fire. Satisfied, he walked away, but then noticed this really large chocolate chip cookie lying around, and stopped. He looked at his gut. "What the hell. I don't need to watch my weight..."

He grabbed the cookie and took a munch out of it, grunting. It was then that steel bars fell into place over the door and windows. That shocked Cancerman, and when he started to grab at the bars and try to pull them back up (he failed miserably), he tried to scream for help. The problem was that the scream turned into a muffle, and then he realized that he forgot something that was very important. He looked around for something, frantically clearing table tops and opening cabinets, not finding it. He was choking a little, screaming, "MMMFFFFK! MMMFFFFK!"

Scully was horrifed to see this horror. Nobody deserved this fate.

Mulder whispered to himself as he watched Cancerman during his first moments of what would be a long, agonizing demise. "Got milk?"

The End

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