Title: Pop Goes the Weasel
Author: Goblin McGee
E-mail: goblinmc@hotmail.com
Disclaimer: The X-Files characters belong to CC and Fox.
Pairing: M/K
Rating: PG-13
Category: Comedy
Summary: Silliness.
Archive: DitB, RatB, Slashing Mulder, others too probably if you ask
Feedback: Bring it on!
Warning: I can't emphasize enough the silliness factor. Author's Note: Once upon a time Ursula started a Mother Goose story game on the Slashing Mulder list. This was a snippet I started but never got around to finishing until now. Had she only known it would lead to this you all might have been spared!

"Spontaneous weasel combustion."

"I suppose you'll want me to examine the body?"

"You have to ask? It's a landmark discovery, Scully!"

"Right. I'd say there's no need for a full autopsy - a visual examination should suffice. Let's see. Remnants of a small explosive devise that was implanted within the chest cavity. When it was activated the explosion ruptured the body, scattering this internal matter which appears to be...synthetic fiber. Stuffing."

"So this animal's guts must have been reconfigured on a molecular level prior to detonation. That would require very advanced technology. Brace yourself, Scully, I'm beginning to suspect that the unsub may have ties to the alien conspiracy."

"I wonder if the reconfiguration was carried out before or after he attached this 'Woodsy Pals Plush Toys' label to the body."

"Here, let me see. That has to be the most cleverly disguised abductee identification marker/tracking device I've ever encountered! I'd say that confirms the extra-terrestrial connection. This case gets more complex all the time!"

"Definitely the product of twisted minds. Mulder, maybe you should stop bending over. Do you realize that there's a huge hole in the seat of your pants?"

"Something strikes me as unusual about this autopsy."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, you've stopped using your tape recorder. When did that happen?"

"The fewer records of this case the better."

"The crimes of the Nursery Rhyme Killer can't be swept under the carpet by you or anyone!"

"What crimes? Toy abuse? Littering?"

"You know, we're really going to have to discuss this cynical attitude you've been developing lately. It's unhealthy and unproductive."

"*I'm* unproductive? You're the one who insists on pursuing this wild goose chase. Let me tell you that I have some serious issues with the direction you've been leading this department in ever since your new source exposed himself to you - forgive the pun."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Take the dress code, for instance - what are you doing in those clothes? Do you really feel they're befitting of an agent on duty?"

"My source left them for me. He recommended I wear them to blend in better."

"Blend into what? There's nothing out here."

"Precisely. We're way out in the back of beyond, ergo I'm disguised as a hiker. Worn casual clothes are part of my cover."

"Skin tight jeans torn in a lot of the places you'd most like protected as you tramp through the bush and a chain harness? Nobody hikes in that."

"It's the 'urban rustic' look."

"It's the fetish look."

"You'll be glad of my specialty gear if we have to do any hazardous rock climbing. The chains can be used to link us together. I can swing them to fight off ferocious animals, too."

"Uh sure, Mulder. And while you're pulling that thing off and trying to swing it around I think I'll just shoot the animal with my sidearm."

"Fine, if you want to be all *citified* about it."

"Fortunately, the area looks pretty short on rock climbing and beast slaying opportunities. I'm unaware of any deadly predators that routinely prowl small orchards ringed by idyllic grassy rolling hills."

"I dunno - there could be a hive of killer bees in one of these cherry trees."

"You'd better hope not. Couldn't you at least have worn something underneath those things?"

"Don't be ridiculous. Think of what an embarrassment it would be if I were wandering around with my underwear on display. I mean really, Scully, we're *FBI agents*."

"How silly of me. So tell me, how does your Bureau suit wearing partner fit into the covert operation you're spearheading?"

"We don't have time for chit chat right now. There's a crime scene to investigate. Look there! As I expected, the perp left the signature mark of our guy - a note with a verse of rhyme. It says: 'all around the mulberry bush the monkey chased the weasel, the monkey thought t'was all in fun - Pop! Goes the weasel.' Another rhyme fiendishly reconstructed with tragic results. That potted plant beside the carcass must be the mulberry bush."

"No, that's a fern."

"I think we can read in 'mulberry bush'."

"Why not? We're already manufacturing the rest of this case."

"Hmm...it looks as though the monkey has fled the scene. Oh well, interrogation would have been a challenge, and the note suggests that he acted without intent - "

"The monkey doesn't exist."

"Scully, I think you've let your skepticism get out of hand. The monkey is a well established fact. It says so in Encyclopedia Brittanica and everything."

"You're enjoying yourself, aren't you?"

"I would never take pleasure in a co-worker's breakdown. Although...it really *is* about time for someone else to get put away for a change. Fair's fair. But don't worry, I'll visit and bring magazines."

"I'm going to kill you."

"Better keep that hostility under wraps when you're in front of the hospital review board. Listen to the voice of experience."

"*This* monkey doesn't exist. The monkey you were referring to from the rhyme. Neither does the so called 'killer' we're after."

"Call him whatever you want, obviously *someone* is committing these crimes."

"What crimes?"

"The ones we're in the process of investigating - or would be if you could manage to stay focused."

"We have no evidence of any deaths. No *organic* bodies or witnesses. No reason to believe there have been any other major offences committed or the intervention of extraordinary forces. Thus, no excuse for following this trail of breadcrumbs all over the country."

"The circumstantial evidence has been tremendous."

"All we found at the last location was a half-eaten bowl of cottage cheese and the squished remains of a harmless variety of spider. Admit it, this is a waste of Bureau resources."

"You're forgetting the significant absence of the girl involved -the terrified missing girl whose emotional equilibrium fell victim to this mad man."

"Allegedly. Outside of the poem, the only sign that there *might* have been a girl was a few footprints. Even if it were true, giving someone a small scare does not constitute a federal crime."

"But the importance of the peripheral findings alone justify our involvement. Just think, we solved the age old question of what a 'tuffet' is."

"Hmm, yes. Looked remarkably like a spanking bench."

"I'm sure it has many purposes."

"I guess you'd know. You and your 'contact' disappeared with it for long enough. The parity achieved was quite impressive, really. Neither one of you could sit down without wincing for hours afterwards. I'd have thought the missing arm would have put him at a disadvantage there."

"You'd be surprised."

"Not anymore."

"It's important to examine evidence thoroughly. As a profiler it helps me to get into the mind of the perpetrator."

"The handy thing about having someone standing right next to you is that you can just turn around and ask for his thoughts direct."

"Am I to understand that you are actually accusing my informant after all the help he's given us? I'm ashamed of you. What possible motivation could he have for misleading us in such a way?"

"Come on, Mulder, he hasn't even bothered staging this well. And he's hardly been subtle about his motives. The first place he had us go to was a San Francisco nightclub called 'The Manhole'. Your disguise for that one was a fireman uniform as I recall."

"Are you going somewhere with this?"

"All just to find a cracked pie crust scattered with some black feathers. Next were the three bags of wool at the hot springs spa with you in that red rubber get up."

"That was a break through, I could feel it."

"Evidently, since you decided to hold a celebration - for the two of you."

"You were invited."

"Yes, and I waited at that cafe for two hours."

"Er, something came up." <Sigh.> "A few times."

"Speaking of which, you're paying to have that bucar cleaned out and explaining the expense to Skinner."

"So much for partners standing together."

"After seeing that car there's no way I'd stand near you without a splash guard in place. Following on the heels of that memorable trip, there was the Little Miss Muffet affair. At least you wore a normal suit for that one. I'm not going to ask what you put on underneath that had you walking so funny."

"Just as well, that equipment is still classified information."

"And now here we are, arguing amid rows of blooming cherry trees in a picture of pastoral paradise...most remarkable for what appears to be Alex Krycek lying naked on a picnic blanket not 50 yards away."

"Getting crumbs in your clothes can be a real nuisance. You know, I'd better go see if he has anything for me."

"Sure looks like it from here."

"Huh? Erm, Scully, while I'm taking care of this, don't you think that those remains call for a detailed lab analysis? You know, at the coroner's office?"

"No, but don't worry I'll meet you back at the motel. I think I'll check out the cocktail selection at the bar."

"Great, that's great. See you later."

"Mulder. Mulder, look at me! For my own piece of mind answer me one question before you go. Do you actually believe any of the bullshit you've been spouting?"

"Scully, I know I've already given you most of my arguments against insisting on adherence to a strict scientific model in all situations, but I think there's another one you should hear: sometimes it gets in the way of an incredible lay. Now if you'll excuse me I have a celebration to join."

The End

Archived: August 27, 2001