Title: Bovine
SUB-Title: How the X-Files Should End
Author(S): Veritas Nullus. We didn't write this. But we'll come out of hiding if the response to this is favourable.
Category: BadFic (and we mean 'bad')
Rating: Bad. Bad bad bad. And cheesy too. Whooops. we mean PG-13. Slight smut but avoidable. Some undesirable words used liberally.
Keywords: H, XF, UST, MSR, character deaths, Roman / Greek tragedy parody (wow, we certainly did get everything in this time, eh?)
Disclaimer: *a la Scully* yaddayaddayadda...Mulder, Scully, Skinner, Emily, CSM, The Syndicate and all other peripheral characters are works of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is completely unintentional. Oh yeah, they belong to 10-13, Chris Carter, David Duchovny, Gillian Anderson, Mitch Pileggi, William B. Davis et al anyway, so sue them.
Feedback: Definitely. Send all comments / flames shall be forwarded to the *real* writers of this piece. The identity of the
writers will thus remain a secret they take to their graves.

SYNOPSIS: A spark of inspiration turned very bad screenplay. We believe CC and 10-13 Productions have absolutely NO IDEA how to end The X-Files. So of course, here we are doing it for them. CC, if you decide to use this, we pity you. But don't forget to credit us. A day on the set of the show would be nice. And how about signing us on as writers should you ever decide to produce a comedy?

P/S Did we mention we don't think much of Emily?

APOLOGY: in case anybody has received this umpteen
times...uhhh...apparently there was some trouble with posting
it...anyway i'm not really newsgroup literate, so forgive me...

Let the mayhem begin... (hold your breath, folks, and take the plunge!)



[TIME FRAME: End of 7th Season.]

[FLASHBACK: MULDER is standing in a graveyard, tears rolling down his face. He kneels in front of the gravestone which we see has a cross on it. Cut to close-up of gravestone. On it is engraved:

Dana Katherine Scully
February 23rd 1964 - October 13th 2000
Beloved Daughter, Mother and Friend

May There Be No Aliens Where She Rests

MULDER starts to really sob now]

[Cut to opening sequence]


[SCENE: Whatever new office our 2 favorite agents are using at the end of the 7th season. Preferably still an out-of-the-way location e.g. old file storage facility. Nobody goes there but The FBI's Most Unwanted]

[SCULLY enters the office holding a manila folder. MULDER is throwing sharpened pencils at the ceiling again]

SCULLY: (trademark reticent smile) Is this ALL you do, Mulder?

MULDER: (flustered) Um... not really... I also...

[He is interrupted by one of the pencils detaching itself from its precarious grip on the ceiling, plummeting down and hitting him on his head. Kathunk.]


[Tosses pencil back up onto ceiling again]

MULDER: (trademark charming grin) What's that there, Scully?

[SCULLY hands folder over to MULDER]

SCULLY: Just something I think we'll both be interested in checking out.

[Cut to close-up of contents of folder. It contains a photo of EMILY, 2 years older, suspended in a tank of green fluid, as well as some other unidentified papers, probably receipts]

MULDER: This...this is Emily...

SCULLY: (obviously impatient) Yes, Mulder. I didn't bring you this photo because I couldn't identify it.

MULDER: Wh-Where did you get it?!

SCULLY: I was buying doughnuts at the nearby bakery. They were giving it away free with every dozen.

MULDER: No, really.

SCULLY: Yes, really.

MULDER: You're not kidding me?

SCULLY: (triumphantly) Are you saying you don't believe, Mulder? Are you becoming the skeptic now? That's usually my job, you know.

[SCULLY, uncharacteristically exuberant, hops up onto her desk, sitting cross-legged without bothering about propriety. She is wearing her usual tight skirts. MULDER is now wearing his usual lascivious grin. She takes off her shoe and throws it at his head. Slightly concussed, MULDER begins to read.]

SCULLY: It doesn't make sense, does it, Mulder? How did Mr. Smith get his hands on this? And what's being done to Emily?

MULDER: (absentmindedly) Who's Mr. Smith?

SCULLY: (exasperated) The guy who owns the doughnut shop. He gives us a free green lime-flavoured doughnut with every dozen we buy, don't you remember?

MULDER: Oh, yeah. Him. Well- (uncertain) Maybe he works for the

SCULLY: (rolling her eyes) Real perceptive, Mulder. What I mean is -- why? Why did he suddenly decide to have the 'Dozen Doughnut' special when I walked in? Why would these people want me to know that they're still artificially maintaining Emily's life?

MULDER: It's almost Christmas, Scully. Ten to one they're sending out cards to let everyone know their alien hybrid kids are doing just fine. (checks the photo) Hanging out in vats of slime.

SCULLY: Emily doesn't look very happy, Mulder.

MULDER: She can't help it, Scully. She's in suspended animation. Look at this.

[He reaches over and shows SCULLY the photo. Cut to his eyes widening, then cut to a long pan up SCULLY's legs. Switch to photo: he is pointing out a candy cane in the corner]

MULDER: It's Christmas time at the F.B.I, alright. We should break out the eggnog.

SCULLY: I should break your face in.

MULDER: Sorry.

SCULLY: No, seriously, what's all this about? It's been two years. I would have thought that Emily would be (her voice catches) dead by now.

MULDER: Apparently not.

SCULLY: I know that. Try to be a little more useful today, OK?

MULDER: Sorry.

SCULLY: And stop apologising.

MULDER: Well, look at it this way- maybe they're furnishing you with a clue concerning Emily's whereabouts. Maybe they think it's time for you to save her.

SCULLY: Maybe. Do you think that's possible?

MULDER: I just told you that.

SCULLY: Oh yeah. Right. (smiles and starts fanning herself with the manila folder) Oh wow, it's getting really hot in here, isn't it? Do you mind?

[She starts unbuttoning her business suit - don't worry, she has a white shirt on under it. MULDER, on the other hand, is having a great time at his favourite spectator sport.]

MULDER: (a la Scully in Bad Blood) Hoo boy... (interrupted by a glare from Scully) ...uh, what I mean is, so you think we should, we should-uh- go check this out? Find Emily?

SCULLY: That would be nice, don't you think?

MULDER: Look, Scully...there's remarkably little in this photo we can follow up on. I mean, Emily in a vat of green fluid, a candy cane in the corner. She could be anywhere, Scully. She might be in the discount candy section at K-Mart for all we know.

SCULLY: (sarcastically) Why do I doubt that, Mulder?

MULDER: (contemplatively) You think maybe she's a model for the new GA-92 prototype for slime-?

[SCULLY hops off her desk and moves to stand face-to-face with MULDER. She draws a finger across her neck threateningly, then grabs him by the tie and chokes him.]

MULDER: (prying her hands off his tie) Seriously, Scully, how far can we get on this? (shuffles around in folder) And this...what's this...a receipt from Hole-In-My-Dough doughnut bakery for the Alien Hybrid Dozen Doughnut Special...really useful, Scully. Where do you suggest we start? For once, I'm stumped.

SCULLY: We obviously can't go about this circuitously, Mulder. We have to march right up to them and confront them. That is so obvious.

MULDER: Are you sure, Scully? Don't you think it would be better to sneak around using our identities as F.B.I. agents to get into places we don't usually have a right to enter and get information we never would have been able to otherwise?

SCULLY: Obviously not, Mulder. Whatever we do, we have to at least try to save Emily. She's just a child. She didn't have a say in this. She didn't ask to be born. I'm pretty sure the Cigarette-Smoking Man didn't pick up a tube of my ova, stare at it intently, and gravely ask, "Would you mind dreadfully if we gave you life? Such as it will be?" I'm a doctor, Mulder. I know these things. Eggs can't talk
back. Mulder, we have to find her. She might be in pain. They might be torturing her. (regards photo with sorrowful apologetic look on her face)

[Pause. MULDER regards her with a resigned look on his face]

MULDER: (sighs) The things I do for you, Scully. C'mon. Let's go talk to that Smith guy. Think I can get rainbow-frosted doughnuts there?

[he stands and grabs his coat, shrugs into it and helps SCULLY into hers.]

SCULLY: Sorry, Mulder. They're fresh out. I got the last six.

MULDER: (plaintively) Can I have one?

SCULLY: (smiling wanly) Sorry, Mulder. I kind of ate 'em all on the way over here. Them and the breath mints I found stuck under my car seat.

[MULDER looks quizzically at SCULLY.]

SCULLY: I eat a lot when I get nervous, OK? Just drop it.

[he opens the door, and ushers her out]

[SCENE: The Hole-In-My-Dough doughnut bakery]

MULDER: (flashing I.D. a la Eddie Van Blundht) F...B...I. [he grins proudly and turns to SCULLY]

MULDER: Did I say that right? Did I sound really cool?

SCULLY: (impatiently) Yes, Mulder. Of course you did. You're the physical manifestation of 'groovy'.

MULDER: People don't say 'groovy' anymore, Scully. I think you mean 'hip'.

SMITH: (smiles) What can I get for my two favorite agents today?

SCULLY: Mr. Smith, excuse us for interrupting, but we're here on a case. We'd like to ask you a few questions. If that's alright with you?

SMITH: Anything for my two favorite agents. After all, you're the one who bought three dozen of my best chocolate frosted.

MULDER: (appalled) Thirty-six doughnuts, Scully?? Did you eat them all??

SCULLY: Hey, I was hungry.

MULDER: Still? Thirty-six is an awful lot of flour and chocolate paste!

SCULLY: Mulder, try and stay focused on the task at hand, will you?

MULDER: OK, OK. Go ahead.

SCULLY: Mr. Smith, I came earlier today and bought (she clears her throat) a number of doughnuts from you. At the time, you were running a special. You gave me a manila folder containing rather telling information about- well, alien hybrids.

[she eyes him hesitantly. SMITH sits down on the chair behind the counter, folds his arms and looks at them intently.]

SMITH: I suppose there's no use in trying to hide it. I might as well tell you the whole truth right here, right now.

SCULLY: We would appreciate that. We've been looking for the truth for a really long time, haven't we, Mulder? (she pokes him in the side)

MULDER: (suddenly seems to realise he has company) Scully?


MULDER: I thought you said you got the rainbow frosted ones.

SCULLY: (disoriented) What? We're talking about-

MULDER: (accusingly) You told me you got the rainbow frosted doughnuts. And you said you ate them all. You didn't even leave one for me!!

SCULLY: (rubbing her temples in exasperation) Mulder, quit it. I ate them all, alright? All forty-two of them. OK? Are you satisfied now? (she turns back to Smith) Where were we?

SMITH: (amazed) You ate forty-two doughnuts? In one afternoon?

[SMITH and MULDER trade disgusted looks]

SCULLY: Am I the only one here who has any brains left at all?

MULDER: You're the one with the supremely high sugar levels. You tell us.

[A murderous look enters SCULLY's eyes. Her fingers form claws as she moves toward MULDER, threatening to choke him off again. SMITH, in the meantime, jumps up and puts himself between them. He looks anxious.]

SMITH: (looking over his shoulder nervously) If you want to hear the truth, stop arguing for a moment. And listen to me.

[SCULLY now has a tight grip on MULDER's collar and she is busy giving him a noogie. They look ashamed at SMITH's ultimatum however, and they step back from each other, straightening clothes - their own, not each other's.]

SMITH: They don't know that I gave you that photo. They're not supposed to know. They can't know. You understand?

SCULLY: How'd you know to give it to me? Emily's case was classified.

MULDER: Yeah. And what's with the candy cane in the corner anyway?

SMITH: Christmas promotion. I put candy cane stickers on everything I give my customers. Boxes of doughnuts, loaves of bread, fruitcakes, photos- everyone loves 'em. I get loads of repeat customers that way. Personal service, you know?

[he looks set to go on for a long time more to come. SCULLY clears her throat.]

SMITH: (changes tack) What I do have to tell you is- they're all in danger.

SCULLY: 'They'? You mean there are more than (her voice catches) Emily?

SMITH: There are more than one. They're being reared for some larger purpose no one knows about. Except for me. Emily's just the first one. She's going to be the poster child for the new generation of alien hybrids. They've drawn up posters and clothing lines and toys and soundtracks. Ad campaigns too, to encourage adult women to join their special fertility clinics. She's going to be the
next big thing to hit the rest of the civilised world. She's going to be huge.

MULDER: Like Leonardo DiCaprio?

SMITH: Well, yeah, him. He was their first try. Didn't work out as well as they thought it would. He turned into a chick magnet and forgot his humble beginnings at their hands. So they decided they'd try their luck with someone younger and more easily manipulated.

SCULLY: (appalled) What? Emily! My Emily!! (huge tears roll down her porcelain white cheeks) A tool? Of the Syndicate?

MULDER: So Leo's actually an alien hybrid... (chortles) wait'll that gets out...(sudden thought) What about David Duchovny, then?

SCULLY: (in a threatening tone) Mulder-

MULDER: (swinging back to the topic sheepishly) Do you know where she is?

SMITH: Yup. I saw her with my own eyes. I was delivering doughnuts one day - this really large factory order for four hundred vanilla sprinkles. I was told to come round to the back door and I rang the bell, but no one answered. So I just went straight on in with the order form. And I saw this huge transparent swimming pool filled with green Jello-

MULDER: (interrupting) That green stuff is Jello? How do you know?

SMITH: I tasted it. It was the new Kwiks Lime flavour. Can I get back to the story now? (Mulder nods) Anyway, I had my camera with me - I usually bring it on long hauls - and took about twenty pictures. I thought it was some new theme park or something. So I was wandering around waiting for someone to sign for the registered doughnuts, when I came across this clipboard pinned to the
side of the pool.

SCULLY: What was on it?

SMITH: Emily's case file, containing her portfolio and intelligence level. Other statistics and such. Had all your information too. Listed you as 'closest kin'. So I thought maybe you oughta know. There was a synopsis of their plan too. I ripped it out and left. The vanilla sprinkles were melting and the dough spoiling anyway.

[SCULLY eagerly takes the piece of paper SMITH has fished out of his jacket pocket.]

MULDER: Can you tell us where she is then?

SMITH: Of course. She's downtown in-

[Slow motion: close up of SMITH's face, his mouth opening to answer MULDER's question. Suddenly, his face contorts into a grotesque mask, he chokes blood, and he falls forward onto MULDER, staining the latter's lovely Armani suit. MULDER grabs SMITH and drops him onto the floor. SMITH has been shot in the back of his head with a rubber dart.]

MULDER: Scully?

SCULLY: (engrossed in her reading) Hmmm?

MULDER: I think we kinda have an emergency on our hands here.

SCULLY: (glancing at Smith and then returning to her reading) That's just a rubber dart, Mulder. It can't have hurt him much. He's just fooling with us, I'm sure.

[MULDER bends over and plucks the dart off. It is smeared with a thick green slime. Cut to the back of SMITH's head: there is a sludgy hole where hair used to be, bubbling with greenish foam like lime fizz sherbet with water.]

[MULDER and SCULLY start choking and coughing]

MULDER: Auuughhh! (chokes) kuckkuckkuck (gags) Scuh-leeeh! Get *hic* outta here!

[MULDER drags SCULLY out of the bakery]

[They collapse into their FBI-issue Ford Taurus and try to recover]

[Cut to shot of two shadowy figures in the bakery wrapping SMITH up in a body bag. A neon pink Nike sneaker comes down on a Morley cigarette butt and grinds it into the ground with deliberate slowness]

[Cut. Advertisement time]

(disclaimers in part i)


[SCENE: MULDER's apartment. Our two favorite agents are plopped on the couch, sitting quite close together, poring over the grubby piece of paper from SMITH]

MULDER: (groans; rubs his red and sore eyes which seem to have been badly affected by the gas) This isn't anything we don't already know, Scully. Government cover-ups of dealings with aliens... the creation of a new alien hybrid human race... we've seen all this before. There're no addresses, no names, nothing! Where do we go from here?

SCULLY: I know what you mean, Mulder...and yet... there's something strange about the whole thing. Smith had to have been one of their experiments. Why is it *he's* been allowed to run free, mingle with the rest of the population? There must be some other hidden agenda, something else we don't know...

MULDER: (sighs) You're probably right. Meanwhile, maybe you could take a look at my eyes, 'n do somethin' about them, 'cos they seem to be on fire.

SCULLY: (pushing Mulder back on the couch) Lemme see...

[She leans over him. She doesn't have her blazer on, so the camera can pan up a lovely view of her chest as she bends over- which it does.]

MULDER: (interrupting) Now that's a sight for sore eyes. S'okay, Scully, I'm fine now.

[SCULLY pokes him in the eye]


SCULLY: Now you're not. You probably need some eyedrops in there, Mulder. Hang on, I'll go get them. [She leaves the room]

[MULDER, still lying on the couch, grabs the scrap of paper off the coffee table and scrutinises it again. Something in the corner catches his attention, and, his sore eyes forgotten, he sits up and stares at it intently.]

[SCULLY re-enters the room]

MULDER: Scully, take a look at this.

SCULLY: What about your eyes? (but she comes over and takes a look anyway)

[MULDER is pointing out a small stain on a corner of the paper]

SCULLY: Looks like blood...

MULDER: (nods) Or chocolate sauce.

SCULLY: I'll have it analysed.

[SCENE: The D.C. crime lab. MULDER is sprawled on a bench gnawing at sunflower seeds]

[Enter SCULLY in a grimy off-white i.e. it was once white lab coat. Her goggles, having been hurriedly pushed up over her hair, are askew. She looks a mess.]

SCULLY: Mulder, you're not going to believe this.


SCULLY: That blood...it's from a cow. It's cow's blood, Mulder.

MULDER: How did you know that, Scully? You mean simple crime-lab analysis can determine what animal the blood comes from?

SCULLY: Just trust me, Mulder.

MULDER: (whining like a spoilt child) No. Tell me how you did it!

SCULLY: You wouldn't understand, Mulder. Forget about it, OK? Look, this has to be a really important clue. Cows don't just go around shedding their blood on everything they come into contact with.

MULDER: You can't be too sure about that, Scully. Cows are careless creatures.

SCULLY: Shut up, Mulder. Now listen for a minute and tell me if this makes sense.

[MULDER stares at her sullenly, folds his arms across his chest and pouts. SCULLY carefully ignores the brat.]

SCULLY: Obviously, this note has passed through a lot of hands. And one of those must have been stained with cow's blood. Right? So-

MULDER: Wanna try the zoo?

SCULLY: Zoos don't keep cows, Mulder.

MULDER: How about barns then?

SCULLY: (slowly, as if speaking to a child of limited intelligence) There are no barns in Washington, Mulder.

MULDER: Abattoirs?

SCULLY: None in the vicinity.

MULDER: The supermarket?

SCULLY: What?!?

MULDER: (reconsidering) No no no... they can't have vats of slime all over the place in a supermarket...not even the discount candy section. It would have to be some kinda meat-processing place... where they get the raw meat, process- then package it.

SCULLY: You're actually starting to make sense to me, Mulder. This can't be good.

MULDER: Just trust me for once, Scully. Come on, let's get going.

SCULLY: (protesting) But there isn't just one meat-processing factory around here! It would take forever! Besides, let me get changed first. I smell something awful.

MULDER: Yeah, I think it's you.

SCULLY: (irritated) That's what I meant. Anyway- any ideas on where to start?

MULDER: Well, yes. Don't you remember what Smith said? He mentioned that the four hundred vanilla sprinkles doughnuts were a factory order. And that he had to go downtown to deliver them! Don't you know what all that means, Scully? Can't you see where I'm going?

SCULLY: (sarcastically) Insane?

MULDER: No, Scully! I'm trying to tell you- that this note has to come from a meat factory downtown... and there's only one, Scully.

SCULLY: You're right...but it was closed down. The council ruled that the bovine residues in the air might give the people Bovine Spongioform Encephalopathy.

MULDER: Uhh... yeah Scully. What you said. Anyway, bingo, right? What better place to store alien hybrids than in an unused meat factory nobody ever visits? Let's go check it out now! (His eyes blaze with fanatical enthusiasm)

SCULLY: I really need to get changed first, Mulder. It would only take a minute. And I can't go out in public looking like this.

[she pulls the goggles off her head and tries vainly to smooth down her hair]

MULDER: (stepping closer to her and staring directly into her eyes) Which is more important, Scully? Finding Emily? Or looking pretty?

SCULLY: Hmm. Tough choice.

[Screen fades to black.]

[SCENE: A large empty factory shrouded in darkness. The camera pans across what appear to be piles of boxes and spider webs. Loud annoying creaking signals the entranceway being forced open.]

[A thin shaft of light cuts through the darkness. MULDER and an immaculately-dressed-and-coiffed SCULLY become visible as they step into the airy room. Their footsteps echo eerily on the concrete pavement]

SCULLY: (wrinkles her nose at the distinctive cow-blood smell, sniffs ) This is it all right... I shouldn't have bothered to change.

MULDER: (complaining) Why don't we ever get one of those really cool flashlights with the really wide beams, Scully? This one hardly picks up anything at all. See?

[He turns the light on SCULLY and shines it directly into her eyes.]

SCULLY: Mulder, ow!

[her hand reaches out toward MULDER, and suddenly the world goes black.]

MULDER: Scully, ow!

SCULLY: Don't ever do that again. I have sensitive eyes.

[the shaft of light recovers itself. The torch is now in SCULLY's hand. She shines it slowly around her, and it eventually settles on what initially appeared to be boxes.]

SCULLY: (gasps; voice trembling) Oh my God. Mulder, look.

MULDER: How can I when you just blinded me by poking my eye out? Again?!?

SCULLY: (sob in her voice) Mulder, it's Emily.

[The camera immediately homes in on the boxes: softly illuminated by the flicker of the flashlight, a clear plastic vat filled with green liquid and EMILY becomes obvious]

MULDER: (petulantly) I thought Smith said it was a swimming pool.

SCULLY: (oblivious) Emily! My God!

[she rushes over to the vat, pressing her hands to the cool surface. Close-up of EMILY's face, with mouth frozen wide open and a tube coming out of it. Rather differently than normal, she is sporting a shocked bovine look.]

MULDER: Scully, calm down. We can't just break the vat and free her. It might endanger her life. I think the tube is her life support system.

SCULLY: (struggling against tears) But Mulder, we're so close. This is the first time in two years I've been so close to her. She's my daughter. (whimpers a little) My daughter!

[SCULLY is still holding the flashlight in her trembling hands; her shoulders are shaking with silent sobs now. MULDER places a reassuring arm around her, gently removing the torch from her grasp. The both of them stand quietly, studying EMILY very much as if she were a fish in an aquarium- well, in her case it's more like a cow on a farm.]

[A pause, during which SCULLY has moved from MULDER closer to the tank. She pries open the top and reaches in tentatively and scoops out a small handful of the stuff. She sniffs it.]

SCULLY: I think this is Jello.


SCULLY: You heard me. Lime-flavoured, to be specific.

MULDER: (contemplatively) Why would they keep her in Jello, Scully? And why green lime-flavoured Jello specifically? Is there something in it that's critical to an alien's survival? Because then we've got it made. All we need to do, if we ever need to fight aliens, is to make sure we wipe out all stocks of green lime-flavoured Jello.

SCULLY: (acerbically) Think I should run some tests on 'em, put some of 'em in purple grape-flavoured Jello, some of 'em in yellow lemon-flavoured Jello, see who survives and who doesn't?

MULDER: Well, if you ever decide to go back to med school, it'd make for an interesting thesis- wouldn't it?

SCULLY: (exploding) Goddamnit, Mulder, I don't give a rat's ass about green lime-flavoured Jello, as far as I'm concerned it's just there because everything associated with aliens is fluorescent green!! We are here to take Emily from this hideous place - not discuss the merits of Jello flavours. Look...look at this! (She indicates the musty, stinky factory and the vats of Jello with a sweep of her hand
) This is no place for a child to grow up!

MULDER: (moving over to Scully and taking her by the shoulders) Scully, listen to me. Emily is not a normal child. You can't expect to be able to take her home and raise her like one.

SCULLY: (stubbornly) She's my daughter, Mulder. I'm going to do what I damn well like with her. You stay out of this.

MULDER: I can't stay out of this when you're the one who brought me into it in the first place. I'm helping you, Scully. Don't you think her dad might like to have some say in her upbringing too? Maybe he'd like to bring her back to Planet Quark. Huh? You ever think of that?

[SCULLY glares at him with hurt indignance]

MULDER: (exasperated) Okay, Scully. I'm sorry. But the fact remains - you can't raise her as you would a normal child. The best option now is to get rid of all these...these... (he indicates the bodies with a wave of his hand)... whatevers, so the Syndicate can't perform any more experiments on them. Then expose them, their activities, inform the public, stop this violation of our rights once
and for all. We have to let everyone know the truth, Scully. The Truth. Once and for all. You joined the FBI to make a difference. This is our chance, Scully.

[Meanwhile, SCULLY has been poking around looking for the tube's origin]

SCULLY: (who hasn't heard a word he's said) Look, Mulder. The tube starts here...this tank. It's labelled "Kwiks Lime-Flavoured Jello". (disbelief) More Jello? Why are they feeding them Jello?

MULDER: (exasperated) Maybe they like eating Jello, Scully?

SCULLY: (preoccupied) Emily doesn't like Jello, Mulder.

MULDER: How could a kid not like Jello?

SCULLY: At least, she wouldn't eat it when she was at the Children's Hospital... (a faraway look in her eyes)... that was so long ago... well, maybe she likes it now.

[She tugs at the tube]

SCULLY: If... (grunt) I could... just (manifestation of extreme effort on her part) ...hunnnnghhhh!

[The tube snaps out of the tank and begins to shrivel. Soon the floor of the factory is covered with a thick layer of Kwiks Lime-Flavoured Jello. MULDER bends down, scoops up a handful and sniffs it]

MULDER: Yep... lime-flavoured Jello alright. (He hands some of the gunk to Scully) Here...you taste it.

SCULLY: Why do I have to taste it? You do it.

[She regards him with a look of disdain, then heads over to the vat]

SCULLY: Give me a hand here, Mulder.

[she reaches in and grabs hold of EMILY. In so doing, she inadvertently dislodges the tube which feeds air into EMILY's nostrils]

[EMILY revives somewhat and starts choking and gagging on the green Jello filling up her various orifices]

SCULLY: Mulder! Help! She's choking!

[MULDER, meanwhile, has been preoccupied with tasting the lime Jello]

MULDER: This new Kwiks Lime Jello is really pretty good, Scully. Here... why don't you tr... (he pitches forward into a deluge of Jello in a dead faint)

[SCULLY is left alone to deal with the calamity. By some miracle of strength, she hauls EMILY out of the tank, but with EMILY 2 years older and heavier, the tiny figure, still holding EMILY, pitches backward into the pool of Jello. They flounder about for a bit. In a few moments, the effects of the Jello on both MULDER and EMILY wear off. MULDER sits up and shakes his head groggily, bits of Jello flying out of his hair and all over SCULLY]

MULDER: (choking) Whoa. What the hell wazzat? (splutters a little)

SCULLY: Come on, Mulder. We've got to get out of here.

[SCULLY helps both MULDER and EMILY up. Cut to shot of all three staggering out of the factory, covered in green Jello. They plop wetly into the car. SCULLY drives]

[Ten minutes later: a Disney watch with Mickey Mouse's hands pointing out the time is portrayed, counting off really fast. Cut to shot of neon pink Nike stepping into the factory. It squelches into green Jello. Swearing is heard.]

[Cut. Advertisement time]


[SCENE: SCULLY's apartment. The atmosphere is warm and cozy with a fire blazing in the fireplace, soft lighting, cow in the barn, oops, we mean EMILY in the bedroom all tucked up and ready for bed, MULDER and SCULLY standing by her bedside, etc. etc. etc. All very peaceful and domestic]

SCULLY: (leaning down and kissing Emily on the forehead) Good night, my darling. You're safe here now. No more tests. This time I promise you. You'll stay with me and Uncle Fox and we'll all be very happy together.

[EMILY regards her with her usual stupid bovine look on her face and doesn't say anything. Doesn't talk much, does she?]

SCULLY: (to Mulder, smiling) Doesn't she look a dear.

[MULDER, who cleverly chooses not to answer questions for fear of the consequences, puts his arm around SCULLY and they walk out of the room together]

[Cut to shot of MULDER on couch, SCULLY is in kitchen puttering around]

[SCULLY enters with two champagne glasses and a bottle of wine. She sits next to MULDER and pours them both wine. A comfortable silence settles over them]

[SCULLY clears her throat tentatively]

SCULLY: Mulder, I want to thank you.

MULDER: For what?

SCULLY: I would never have found Emily without your help. She owes her rescue to you - to your finding that bloodstain, to your, to your, to... (breaks off as she is overcome with emotion)

MULDER: (reaching over and hugging her) Shhh. You don't have to thank me for anything. We work together, remember? You had to drive us back. Without you we wouldn't even be here. Besides, that's what friends do. Right?

[A pause. A pregnant pause. SCULLY looks up into MULDER's eyes. Impulsively, she reaches up, cups his face in her hand, and plants a quick but gentle kiss on his lips. Whooo-hoo. The audience begins to hyperventilate. Finally!]

SCULLY: (whispers) Thank you, Mulder.

[A pause again. My, there are lots of pauses tonight-]

[MULDER lifts SCULLY's chin with a finger, bends down, and gives her a tentative kiss back. He then leans toward her to whisper in her ear; cut to close-up of SCULLY's ear and MULDER's mouth]

MULDER: (whispering) You're welcome. And thank you, Scully. For being my one in five billion. For standing by me even when the entire world thought I was insane.

[SCULLY smiles and leans against him.]

MULDER: (as an afterthought) You smell really good, Scully. What is that, lemon-scented shampoo?

SCULLY: No. Lime-flavoured Jello.

[They smile at each other. A pause as they stare into each other's eyes again, which are dark with desire. Impulsively, MULDER cups SCULLY's face with both hands, and leans in to devour her]

[Sounds of snogging and slurping]

MULDER: (muffled) Oh God, Scully you taste so good... hhooOnnhh (he moans)

SCULLY: (smiling up at him) We're not going to have totally unjustified but sublimely fulfilling and complete sex now, are we, Mulder? That's such a clich.

MULDER: (eyes glazed over) Why the hell not?

SCULLY: I guess you're right. (she grins slowly, a Cheshire-cat grin Scully is usually incapable of)

[SCULLY, now overcome with lust, is wrestling with his shirt, trying to get it off. In bed, she is the quintessential romantic heroine. After having successfully removed MULDER's shirt, she lies back on the couch and stares up into his eyes. Her red hair lies slightly mussed over her brow, her eyes are crazed for his manhood, her blouse is half-unbuttoned. A teaser shot of part of the two large globes of SCULLY's chest is seen. They are perfect as ripe peaches. Hell, they taste like ripe peaches. This is so appealing
that MULDER finishes the job and rips off her top entirely.]

SCULLY: (giggling) Oooooh, Mulder, you are so aggressive!

MULDER: (mock ferociously) And you, Scully, are my little sex-kitten.

[Sounds of unintelligible grunting as they grope each other in the classic style of romance novels. He teases her with his kisses, she toys with his sanity etc. etc. etc.]

SCULLY: (groaning and barely in control of herself) Ohhh Mulder. Fuck me. Fuck me like you've never fucked me before.

MULDER: But I haven't, Scully. Not ever.

SCULLY: (glares at him, then pulls him back down to her) Don't spoil the moment Mulder. Not after seven years.

[Somehow they wrestle the rest of their clothes off. Since this is prime-time TV, we can't really have any NC-17 stuff, but it's pretty easy to infer that they are presently butt naked, their hands exploring the crevices of each other's inner recesses. Sounds of ecstasy-filled whimpers and grunts]

SCULLY: Ohhh Mulder!

MULDER: Ohhh Scully!

SCULLY: (she seems to be taking his throbbing manhood in her hands- remember, we can't show this on TV - imagination will have to suffice for the moment) Ohhh Mulder...you're so different from me...you are hard where I am soft...

[almost indifferent grunting from MULDER]

[Cut to a shot of MULDER on top of SCULLY. Panting]

MULDER: Awwww God Scuh-leeeeeee...

[Fade to black]

[SCENE: The Haven for the FBI's Most Unwanted. MULDER is sitting at his desk gnawing at sunflower seeds. Somehow at the end of the season and series, things get pretty quiet and there's nothing much for the agents to do. SCULLY enters]

MULDER: (cheerfully, and a tad lasciviously) Morning, Scully.

SCULLY: (a throaty purr) Morning, Mulder. You were certainly a Bad Boy yesterday!

MULDER: (sniggering) And you were definitely a Naughty Girl, Scully. How much previous experience have you had anyway? (talk about loaded questions!)

SCULLY: I'm not a virgin, Mulder, if that's what you're thinking about.

MULDER: Oh, I could figure that out right away.

SCULLY: (blushing girlishly) But.. oh how I wish I were! I should have saved myself for you, Mulder- (she looks meaningfully into his eyes)

[They kiss and are about to stage a repeat performance of Act III Sc i when the phone rings. MULDER gently pushes the eager SCULLY off of him and gets off the desk.]

MULDER: (picking up the receiver) Hello? (runs a hand through his messy hair) Sir? Yes, this is Agent Mulder. No, it's not yet noon. Yes, I am surprisingly early today- (he listens intently) Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Yeah, alright. Thanks, sir.

[he puts the phone down and rummages on his desk for something, then turns back to SCULLY]

MULDER: (tosses a file her way) You only got one autopsy today. Skinner just called to confirm. So.. where's Emily?

SCULLY: Thanks... she's with my mom. I'm picking her up later. Promised I'd take her to the playground today. The kid needs some fresh air and sunshine, don't you think?

MULDER: Are you sure, Scully? Maybe you should just let her rest for a while. Recover from her two-year-long romance with lime-flavoured Jello, you know?

SCULLY: I just want her to have some fun, Mulder. Besides, she seems to have developed an inexplicable affinity for the stuff.

MULDER: The stuff?

SCULLY: You know- Kwiks Lime Jello. She's been hankering after it for every meal since we brought her back. She's cleared the local grocery shelves. It's amazing how much she can put away - I think she ate 12 bowls for breakfast this morning.

MULDER: Like mother, like daughter.

SCULLY: (sharply) What did you say?

MULDER: Nothing, nothing. (hoping to distract her) So.. what were you saying?

SCULLY: I don't have anything for her lunch, Mulder.

MULDER: Is this a subtle and/or sly hint, Scully?

SCULLY: (flashing him a dazzling smile) I've checked everywhere nearby, Mulder. There's no Jello around for miles. Do you think you could-?

MULDER: Drive around aimlessly for a couple of hours till I find an out-of-the-way little family shop which still sells the Jello and buy it wholesale for you?

SCULLY: Wow, Mulder. (grins) You really are my soulmate.

MULDER: Guess you could say that. OK, fine. Just don't forget about the autopsy. Check out the case file - the person you're cutting up today passed on after visiting a nearby steak restaurant and gorging himself on the All-You-Can-Eat buffet. Ten different types of steak. It might prove important.

SCULLY: Definitely! How much does it cost?

MULDER: I mean to the case, Scully honey. I'll get going now.

[grabbing his keys off the desk, he throws on his coat, grabs her face and gives her the most searing and powerful burning kiss of her life, then leaves.]

[SCENE: a harmless-looking playground. EMILY is sitting dully on the swings with a dazed bovine look on her face. SCULLY is pushing her back and forth and humming loudly the theme song to "Sesame Street".]

SCULLY: (stopping) Don't you like the song, baby?

[EMILY stares at SCULLY with a stubborn bovine look, then resolutely shakes her head. She seems to have understood SCULLY's attempt at speech.]

SCULLY: What do you want to do, then, Emily?

EMILY: (fretfully, in a bovine voice) Wan Jewwo.

SCULLY: Honey, I already told you. Uncle Fox has gone out to buy some more Jello for you. Do you want to try eating something else before he gets back?

EMILY: (whining, if a cow can whine) Moommmy, Emiwy wan Jewwo!!

SCULLY: Emily, no matter how much you want something, no daughter of mine is going to get away with using bad grammar. Now repeat after me: " Mommy - I - want - Jello."

EMILY: (screaming, if a cow can scream) Me waaaaaan Jeeeeewwwwooo!

SCULLY: Honey, no, I already told you. See, Unkie Fox will be back soon. Then you can have all the Jello you want.

EMILY: (staring straight ahead, which cows are good at doing) More Jewwo for Emiwy soon?

[SCULLY sighs, and reaching out her hand, grabs the chain supporting the swing and stops its oscillating movement. She walks around to face EMILY and bends down so she can look into her daughter's bovine eyes.]

SCULLY: Oh baby. (she pushes Emily's hide - sorry, hair - out of her blue bovine eyes) What did they do to you? How can you be even less articulate now than you were two years ago? What's happening to you, honey?

EMILY: (giving her mother a quizzical bovine look) Mommy?

SCULLY: (sighing) Yes, baby?

EMILY: Me gonna be star! Wight? Emiwy big Jewwo star?

SCULLY: Star? (momentarily stumped) Oh. For advertisements? No, Emily. Mommy's going to make sure you lead a normal life from now on. (muttering to herself) And Mommy's also going to find a way to increase your I.Q.

EMILY: (pointing at the slide) Mommy, me wanna pway some more!

SCULLY: (lifting Emily out of the swing and setting her down on her little bovine legs) OK, Emily, go and play. Just be careful, alright? Don't come down too fast.

[EMILY totters off towards the slides on unsteady calves. Ha ha ha. Excuse the pun. SCULLY, on the other hand, sinks down dejected onto the swing her daughter has recently vacated. She starts pushing herself back and forth slowly, watching EMILY.]

SCULLY: (talking to herself) I don't understand you anymore, Emily. You used to be so precocious. (sighs and looks wistfully at the little cow - um, girl) Now look at you. A diet of Lime Jello has made you as- (she searches for a phrase) Good God, Emily! You have the brain cells of a tree stump!

[Faced with this horrifying reality, SCULLY groans and covers her tired eyes with a trembling hand. Being with her daughter again after two years has been more taxing than she would like to admit.]

SCULLY: (almost inaudibly) If only Mulder were here. He could tell me everything would be fine. That Emily would get better soon. And that I'd be able to wean her off the Jello before it does any further damage.

[A sudden scream interrupts SCULLY's train of thought. Her heart seems to stop and everything shifts into slow-motion mode. The camera pans slowly toward the slide. EMILY is crumpled at the foot of it, tears pouring out of her big blue bovine eyes, mooing loudly to anyone who would care to hear.]

SCULLY: (jumping up and rushing over) Emily, Emily! Oh my darling daughter! Why are you so clumsy? Where's the boo-boo, baby? (switching almost naturally to baby talk) Where's the owchie-wowchie?

EMILY: (baying / mooing tearfully) Mommy, pain!! Mommy, ow!!

SCULLY: (cuddling Emily in her arms and crooning reassuringly) It's OK, Emily. Everything's going to be just fine. Tell Mommy where it hurts.

EMILY: (pointing toward her hoof - we mean, her foot) There. (sniffles) Pain, Mommy! Make pain stop, Mommy!!

[Worried, SCULLY grabs hold of EMILY's ankle firmly and examines it with a practised doctor's eye. What she sees makes her gasp. Then it makes her choke. Her eyes widen.]

SCULLY: (a la WMM) My- God- Emily!!

[SCULLY is unable to continue. She is choking and coughing violently, her eyes bugging out and her face turning a disgusting mottled scarlet. Her fingers flail helplessly at her throat. In fear, the bovine EMILY cuddles closer to her mother]

[The camera settles on the reason for SCULLY's extreme discomfort: there is a gash on EMILY's leg. Nothing serious, but deep enough to see the green bubbles forcing their way out of her body, settling on her skin and hissing ferociously as if they had a life of their own. EMILY seems oblivious.]

EMILY: (stupidly) Mommy got boo-boo too??

SCULLY: (choking) Em- Em- Emily- (panting, struggling for breath) Tell- tell.. Mul- Mulder that- tell him that- he has to- (her breathing becomes even more laboured; her eyes bloodshot) stop- has to stop-...

[Her lovely blue eyes roll back into her head, and the perfect complexion so liberally sprinkled with gold dust turns pallid]

SCULLY: (weakly) O my dear Emily! I die, Emily, I die.

[SCULLY has died an ignoble death.]

EMILY: Mommy say bye-bye?

[the camera begins to widen into a long shot of the playground: SCULLY's limp lifeless body is still wrapped protectively around EMILY, who is moronically unaware of the very real gravity of the situation.]

[Cut to a quiet, almost inaudible crunch of shoes on sand. Focus on neon pink Nike sneakers coming into view some distance behind the touching scene of dead mother and bovine daughter.]

[Cut. Advertisement time.]


[SCENE: The Scully household. MA SCULLY and BROTHER SCULLY clad in black. General mourning i.e. sniffling, red eyes, handkerchiefs etc.]

[Knocking on the door. MA SCULLY goes to answer it. MULDER is outside, with EMILY. She looks into his eyes for a moment, then looks away.]


MULDER: (an uncomfortable pause, he clears his throat) I'm very sorry, Mrs. Scully. I - I - (he is manfully trying to hold back sobs) Oh God...

MA SCULLY: (maternal as always, reaches over and gives him a hug) Shhh. Come inside, Fox.

[MULDER steps into the house, leaving EMILY standing on the porch. It is now that we notice that throughout all this, little EMILY has been chewing the cud ...errr.... Jello]

MA SCULLY: (tears threatening) Emily, honey.

[she envelopes EMILY in a warm hug. Maybe a little too warm]

EMILY: (looking plaintively into her bowl and then at Ma Scully's shirt) Jewwo?

MA SCULLY: Oh- (she realises there is a long smear of Jello down her front, and promptly misunderstands Emily's disappointment.) Don't worry, baby. It's not your fault. Grammy can change into something clean later. [she takes hold of EMILY's small but Jello-covered hoof - hand? - and leads her inside. The door swings slowly shut behind them.]

[Cut to scene inside the house]

[BROTHER SCULLY regards MULDER with a look of pure hatred]

MA SCULLY: Thank you for bringing Emily, Fox.

MULDER: Mrs. Scully, I don't think you understand the risks that come with keeping a cow in the house.

MA SCULLY: (baffled) What?

MULDER: Err... What I meant was, there are substantial risks in agreeing to becoming Emily's legal guardian.

MA SCULLY: I don't understand...what risks could there be in looking after a normal, healthy little girl?

MULDER: You don't understand. Emily is not a normal, healthy little girl. She's part of The Syndicate's plans They deals with extraterrestrial intelligence that involve the creation of alien-human hybrids. Scully's ova was harvested while she was abducted. Emily is a creation of The Syndicate. Emily is an alien hybrid. Her physiological make-up is toxic to humans. Emily is what killed Scully. Emily is what caused Scully's cardiac arrest. You can't keep Emily with you, Mrs. Scully. We need to get rid
of her before she kills any other people. You have to believe me, Mrs. Scully. (opening his address book in a
business-like manner) Now, I know a reputable abattoir not far from...

MA SCULLY: (patronising, obviously disbelieving) Dana was very fond of Emily, Fox. I'm sure she would have wanted me to be responsible for her upbringing.

MULDER: No! Listen to me, Mrs. Sc-

BROTHER SCULLY: (interrupting between clenched teeth) No you listen to me, Mr. Mulder. We are fed up with all your shit about aliens and little green men. (in a mocking falsetto) `You have to believe me!' (sneers) You and your shit killed my two sisters. Now either you get out now and leave Emily to our care, or we press charges.

MULDER: (defeated, hang-dog and shoulders slumped, he walks towards the door) I'm sorry, Scully. I tried. [he steps out of the house, walks down the front steps and stops as he crosses the lawn. MULDER turns back, shields his eyes with his hand, and sighs.]

[Screen fades to black.]

[SCENE: Heifer Gott Memorial Graveyard. MULDER and SKINNER in front of SCULLY'S gravestone. Short pause. MULDER starts to sniffle. SKINNER puts a comforting arm around him]

MULDER: (sniffs) Y'know, Scully, I never thought you'd die this way. Killed by a cow.

SKINNER: I know this must be very difficult for you, Agent Mulder, but-

MULDER: You don't know the half of it, sir. I've been through so much with Scully. (pause) With Dana. We've gone through everything imaginable. Monsters, aliens, government conspiracies- but we've always pulled through it together. Made it out in one piece. Now look at her. She was killed, killed at a time when she was least suspecting.

SKINNER: I know how you feel for Agent Scully, Mulder. But she's gone now. There's nothing you can do to-

MULDER: The hell I can't! I'm going to figure out how Emily killed Scully.

SKINNER: Now, Agent Mulder- she's just a little girl.

MULDER: (snorting derisively) Little girl my hairy white ass. She's nothing human, sir. I would venture as far as to say she was- (pauses, not sure if he dares to reveal something quite so startling)

SKINNER: (prompting) Yes?

MULDER: Well, I would go so far as to say she was- bovine.

[SKINNER looks more than slightly dumbstruck. He removes his arm from around MULDER's shoulders and steps tentatively away. Obviously, another one of MULDER's hallucinations / delusions / insane ramblings. Best to steer clear of-]

MULDER: (in a condescending manner, as if he has all the secrets of the world at his fingertips) Bovine. In a supernatural way, of course.

SKINNER: (looking at Mulder inquisitively) You do know, Agent Mulder, that bovine is an adjective usually used in reference with- (gently) cows?

MULDER: (exploding) God man, what do you think I am? A bloody moron? Of course I know what I'm talking about. Emily is a damn COW, I tell you. Just look at her! Look at the way she stares straight ahead all the time like there isn't a thought in her head-

SKINNER: She's barely six, Agent Mulder. You can't expect her to be-

MULDER: That's not all, sir. Have you seen her eyes?

SKINNER: They are a lovely blue. Rather like her mother's. (he clears his throat when he notices the pain coming into Mulder's own brown, human eyes). Sorry.

MULDER: Forget it. What I mean is- that vacant, cow-like stare- how could anyone miss it? It's so sickeningly obvious!

SKINNER: Maybe she's thinking, Mulder. Emily always was precocious.

MULDER: Well, have you seen her eat then? The way she can just sit for hours masticating her stupid little bowls of Kwiks Jello? She chews the cud, sir! Look at her!!

[In anguish and exasperation, MULDER falls to his knees and hammers his fists on the green turf, as fresh as if it were planted the day before- oh yeah. It was.]

SKINNER: Agent Mulder, there's no easy way to put this. But I think Agent Scully's death has affected you a lot more than you care to admit. Why don't you take an official vacation? Just for a few days. Have some time to yourself, calm down a little. You obviously don't feel safe leaving Emily in Mrs. Scully's hands- well, if it would set your mind at rest, I'll be sure to check up on them often. And if anything happens which might endanger either of their lives, I'll be sure to contact you. So you-

MULDER: (looks up at Skinner joyfully, tears springing to his eyes) You mean it, sir? You'll help me? You'll help me in my quest for the truth?

SKINNER: What? (dumbfounded) I never said anything of the-

MULDER: (scrambling to his feet) Oh thank you, sir! Thank you! (grabbing Skinner's hand, he pumps it enthusiastically) You're a life-saver, sir!

[he releases SKINNER's hand and seems to lapse into a semi-trance, muttering to himself as he paces restlessly on the same spot]

SKINNER: Um- Agent Mulder?

MULDER: (gleefully) Now I'm free to really find out the secret behind Emily's body structure- I can discover the reason behind her seemingly toxic blood stream.. I can avenge Scully!! I can learn the Secret of- (pauses for dramatic effect) The Cow!! Oh wait. I mean, the Syndicate. (eyes blazing, he looks back up at his worried boss) Thanks again, sir! You don't know how much this means to me! Just
be sure to keep Emily from getting hurt. Prevent any rupturing of her skin and all that- and give her her stupid bowls of Jello whenever she clamours for them. It's actually really easy to take care of her. (profusely) Thank you! Thank you so much!

[Hardly seeming like a man who has just lost the Love of His Life, MULDER prances off across the green cemetery grass, throwing SKINNER a huge grin as he lopes away]

SKINNER: (uncertainly) You're- welcome- I think?

[Camera pulls back for long shot of the graveyard: SKINNER is a lonely figure with a mission, standing next to the fresh earth covering SCULLY's resting place. MULDER is a tiny dot on the horizon, running off in search of the Truth of the Cow.]

[Screen fades to black]

[Cut: advertisement time.]


[SCENE: MA SCULLY's home, in the kitchen. EMILY is seated at the kitchen table with a huge punch bowl filled with Kwiks Lime-Flavoured Jello. She is digging into it with relish, using a spoon - if hooves can grasp.

MA SCULLY is humming a melancholy tune to herself as she washes up after EMILY.]

[Cut to pan around entire kitchen: it is a disaster area. Hurricane Bessie has hit it. Empty crumpled boxes of Kwiks Jello lie scattered across the floor and kitchen counters. The garbage bin is full to overflowing with the same. Plates and bowls licked clean are piled in the sink, awaiting a thorough washing.]

MA SCULLY: (tiredly) You certainly do have an appetite, Emily darling.

[EMILY makes no response. Instead, she stares moronically into her Jello and resumes scooping it up almost mechanically and shovelling it into her mouth.]

MA SCULLY: Your mommy never told me how much you liked this kind of Jello, honey! I'll have to go out and buy a whole new supply for you soon!

EMILY: More Jewwo for Emiwy?

MA SCULLY: (sighing almost inaudibly) Yes, Emily. More Jello soon.

[she makes a half-hearted swipe at the Jello-coated kitchen counter, then sinks down into a chair facing her cow- um, granddaughter]

MA SCULLY: (hesitantly, testing the waters) You want to do something else, Emily? Maybe watch some cartoons?

EMILY: (in a stubborn bovine way) Where Mommy?

MA SCULLY: Mommy has- (pauses) gone somewhere far away, Emily.

EMILY: Go buy more Jewwo for Emiwy? (shoves more into her mouth)

MA SCULLY: Well- (not wishing to disappoint Emily) Yes, honey, but she won't be back for a long long time-

EMILY: (bovine visage crumpling) No Jewwo for Emiwy?

MA SCULLY: No, no, Emily! Uncle Bill will bring more Jello for you soon.

[EMILY nods placidly and sinks back into her semi-meditative cow-like state]

[The oven makes a warning noise, and MA SCULLY gets up to deal with it]

MA SCULLY: Now, Emily, if you're done with that Jello, why don't you put the bowl in the sink, and Grammy will let you try some of the delicious muffins she just made-?

[EMILY stares dolefully at her empty bowl, looks at her grandmother, opens her mouth, and releases the loudest 'Moo' anyone has ever heard.]

EMILY: No wan muffin! Me wan Jeeewooo! (accusingly) Mommy always give Emiwy Jewwo!

MA SCULLY: (a tad impatiently) There is no more Jello, Emily. Just put your bowl in the sink and sit tight. Uncle Bill will bring you some more soon, alright?

[The cow - girl? - pouts. Pushing herself out of her chair, EMILY wraps her limbs around the huge bowl and totters unsteadily to the sink. She is just about to shove the bowl in when she slips, and the bowl goes crashing to the floor.]

[Crack: the punch bowl is broken. EMILY sits down on the floor amidst the shards of glass, emitting loud inhuman wails. Essentially, she is mooing. Really loudly.]

MA SCULLY: (horrified, rushing over to Emily) Emily, Emily! Oh my darling granddaughter! Why are you so clumsy? (she gathers the quivering bovine mess into her arms and coos - not moos - comfortingly to it) Tell Grammy where it hurts, and Grammy will make it all better!

EMILY: (lifting up her fore hoof- no, hand for Ma Scully's inspection) Boo-boo!!

MA SCULLY: Oh dear- that looks rather serious, baby. I'll just have to- [she is brutally cut off half-sentence as the camera focuses once again on the bubbling green mass emerging from the cut on EMILY's wrist (?)]

[Close-up of MA SCULLY's face: her eyes are crossed and her face contorted into something resembling a stewed tomato and its wrinkled loose skin. She begins to choke and moves inadvertently away from EMILY]

[MA SCULLY is in convulsions: EMILY innocently moves closer to her gasping grandmother and hugs MA SCULLY's face.]

[The camera shows a thin wisp of green smoke, almost invisible, wreathing itself around the unfortunate face of the remaining female member of the SCULLY clan]

[EMILY, in a touching show of concern, pats MA SCULLY'S face gently]

[MA SCULLY's eyes bulge out of her face very much the same way her own daughter's did a few days ago. Suddenly, she shivers violently, and her hold on her bovine relation immediately slackens. MA SCULLY has joined the ranks of the dead.]

[EMILY looks curiously, with big placid eyes, cocked head, at MA SCULLY lying dead on the floor]

[The back door rockets open. BROTHER SCULLY is standing there, laden down with huge brown grocery bags piled high with boxes of Kwiks Lime-Flavoured Jello.]

BROTHER SCULLY: (a la Ricky Ricardo) Mom? Emily? I'm hoooome!!

[The smile on his face is frozen into position, and then disappears as he takes in the scene spread out before him.]

BROTHER SCULLY: (mouth agape) Oh my God! Mom! Emily, get away from her!

[In a rare obliging moment, EMILY lumbers over to BROTHER SCULLY and tugs at him, pointing coyly at the boxes of Jello]

[Dropping the grocery bags on the floor, he rushes over and gathers his mother into his arms. He begins to cry, sobs wracking his body. EMILY, on the other hand, shrugs like the good-natured creature she is and toddles over to where the boxes of Jello have littered the ground. She picks up a box and hugging it to herself, trots back to her uncle's side.]

EMILY: (waving the box in BROTHER SCULLY'S face) Emiwy's Jewwo.

[Ah, but this is sad irony! The gash on EMILY's wrist has yet to heal, and her waving the toxic gas in her uncle's face triggers in him an epileptic fit. As he goes into seizures, EMILY frowns a little bovine frown and plops herself heavily onto her butt. She rips open the Jello box as best she can and begins eating the powdered Jello mix. Yuck.]

[The plaintive wail of the doorbell is heard as BROTHER SCULLY breathes his last. EMILY calmly stuffs more light-green powder into herself.]

[Cut to front door: SKINNER, as good as his word, has come to check up on the SCULLY family. Alas, he is too late, for EMILY is the last surviving member.]

[As SKINNER checks his watch impatiently: fade to black.]

[SCENE: SKINNER in the F.B.I. Field Office. He is on the phone]

MULDER VOICE-OVER: (frantically) What do you mean there was no answer?

SKINNER: Agent Mulder, calm down. They've probably just gone away for a little while. To greener pastures. They need time to heal, Mulder.

[Cut to shot of a visibly agitated MULDER.]

MULDER: (runs hand worriedly through hair) Sir, you don't understand -

SKINNER: (interrupts) All right. Agent Mulder, if it makes you happy, I'll send a team over to have a look in the house. Just to make sure everything's okay. Which I'm sure it is.

[Click: he puts down the phone. The camera focuses on SKINNER's hand still gripping the receiver.]

[A sigh from SKINNER, exasperated.]

[SCENE: Night time. Exterior shot of the SCULLY house. A two-man F.B.I. team is looking in the windows, knocking, doing the standard "heellloooo...anyone home" routine etc. Basically pretty standard stuff]

[No answer. With surprising ease, they quickly pick the lock on the door - hey, remember this is TV, anything's possible (and trespassers are seldom ever prosecuted) - and enter the house]

F.B.I. MAN 1: (gagging) Euuuuughhhh... looks like we've got a real mess on our hands here.

[F.B.I. MAN 2 doesn't respond, he is busy sicking up in a corner]

[F.B.I. MAN 1 moves into the house, apparently unaware that he can turn on the lights. He is desperately trying to assess the damage with the narrow beam from his standard-issue FBI flashlight, the kind MULDER was whining about previously]

F.B.I. MAN: OK....we have 2 dead... and oh my... what's this...? There's the little girl. She's alive. Skinner'll be pleased.

[Cut to shot of EMILY lying prone on the tiled kitchen floor, breathing heavily and loudly as cows are given to doing. The empty box of Jello is wedged onto her hoof / hand. There are evident light green flecks of Kwiks Lime-Flavoured Jello on her face where she has obviously failed to sufficiently lick herself clean.]

F.B.I. MAN 2: She's a strange one, ain't she? (gathering the slumbering calf into his arms) Oof. She sure doesn't look this heavy. OK, I'll take her back to Skinner. You can clean up here.

[Fade to black]

[SCENE: SKINNER's apartment. SKINNER is once again dealing with a harried MULDER on the phone]

SKINNER: Yes...she's here, Mulder. She's perfectly safe. I think she's asleep- Would you like to speak to her? Yes... Mrs. Scully and Bill Scully were DOA. Preliminary reports indicate cardiac arrest. Similar to Agent Scully's.

MULDER: (muffled) And you don't find that odd, Sir? Three cardiac arrests in three days, all within the same family, all in Emily's presence.

SKINNER: (short pause) Agent Mulder, I'd like you to come down here as soon as possible and find out what the hell's going on.

MULDER: On my way.

[Click: the phone is disconnected on MULDER's side, and SKINNER slowly removes the receiver from his ear. He stares at it, at a loss, for a few moments.]

[Exhausted, SKINNER puts his face in his hands and slumps on the table]

[EMILY, meanwhile, has ploughed through yet another bowl of Jello. Not wanting to disturb SKINNER, she lumbers into the kitchen in search of more.]

[Scene changes to SKINNER's kitchen: EMILY perched precariously on a stool, trying to reach the Jello boxes on a high shelf]

[Cut to shot of knife rack, which, for some reason known only to a single man, has the knives point side up. Suitably frightening music (the generic horror show chord) blares]

[The predictable happens. EMILY tumbles with a crash onto the knives, upsetting some boxes of Jello onto the counter in the process. In typical gory B-Grade Horror Movie Style, cut to puke-inducing shot of Emily impaled on knives. Suitably frightening music. EMILY wails. As before, we see the green froth bubble to the surface - a generous amount this time.]

[SKINNER, hearing the crash, rushes into the kitchen]

SKINNER: Oh, Jesus, what the hell is this? Emily, why are you so clumsy?

[he reaches over and starts to pull out the knives- then notices the green froth. He claps a hasty hand over his nose and mouth to keep out the toxic scent. But it is too late.]

SKINNER: AuuuughhhH!!!! (chokes and gasps, grabbing his chest) hhhhcccckkkk......I ca...KAAAAA....

[SKINNER collapses and dies]

[EMILY regards him quizzically, reaches down and pulls the remaining knife from her abdomen. The wound begins to heal. She smiles mysteriously as cows are wont to do, picks up one of the boxes and seems as if she is about to rip it open.]

[The doorbell sounds. Cut to shot of MULDER in the hallway, leaning impatiently on the button. Back in the kitchen, EMILY remains oblivious to the scattered knives and the limp body of SKINNER on the counter. She munches stolidly.]

MULDER: Sir? Sir? I got here as fast as I could! (pounding heavily on the door) Sir??? (he realises what must have happened) Shit. Emily!! [he rams himself into the door repeatedly with his right shoulder.]

MULDER: (rubbing his shoulder regretfully) Ow. That looks a whole lot easier in the movies. And I used to be able to do it really well too.

[Frustrated, he pounds helplessly on the door. Tense moments pass. But suddenly, as if experiencing an epiphany, he tests the doorknob. Oh of course. It's unlocked.]

MULDER: (muttering to himself in self-deprecatory manner) Oh well done, Fox Mulder. Break your shoulder against the door and don't try the knob first. Great.

[Still mumbling angrily, he strides purposefully into the apartment, advancing through the living room towards the kitchen.]

MULDER: Emily? Sir?

[An eerie silence responds]

MULDER: (pensively) Guess they must have gone to the grocery store across the road. (laughing uneasily) To get more Jello. That must be it.

[he stands uncomfortably in the middle of the living room, unsure of what to do next. A loud mooing disturbs his concentration.]

MULDER: (immediately recognising the distinctive sound) Emily? Where are you?

[Following the string of contented moos floating out of the kitchen, MULDER bounds in and is greeted with the gruesome spectacle. SKINNER is sprawled at a revolting angle across the floor now, EMILY having pushed him out of the way to reach a Jello box he had so callously been blocking from her eager grasp.]

MULDER: My God, Emily! You- you-

EMILY: (through a mouthful of powder and cud) Hewwo, Unkie Fox.

[Devastated and truly bitter now, MULDER storms over to EMILY, stepping over SKINNER in his haste. Grabbing the box of Jello out of her grip, he proceeds to stuff it into the garbage disposal and grind it triumphantly into dust.]

[Cut to Emily's face: big blue bovine eyes fill quickly with tears. A choked 'moo'.]

EMILY: Jewwo say bye bye?

MULDER: (now furious) You bet your Jello says bye bye!! How can you still eat at a time like this? What's wrong with you, Emily? Don't you miss your mother at all?

EMILY: (in a self-satisfied way) Mommy go buy Jewwo for Emiwy.

MULDER: (taking a deep shuddering breath) Jello?

EMILY: (proudly) Wots of Jewwo. Wots and wots of it for wittle Emiwy.

[Ignoring the annoyingly insistent cow / girl, MULDER returns to the counter and picks up an empty box of Jello. He turns it around in his hands a few times, then begins to read the sides and back for nutritional information.]

MULDER: There must be something here. It has to explain why-

[Suddenly, he pauses. Swallows. Looks up at EMILY, looks back down at the box, and seems to read a certain passage over again to himself. He is shocked out of his hide. Oh no, we mean skin. Sorry... force of habit.]

MULDER: Oh Jesus. This explains it then. Scully, this is why Emily is the way she is now! (angry tears blinding his vision) Damn it all, Scully! Why didn't you read the back of the box for once? Why didn't you dissect everything to pieces like you always do-?

EMILY: (self-importantly) Mommy wove Emiwy.

MULDER: (spinning to face her) Shut the hell up, you- you- (the next word is infused with all the hatred and bitterness possible).. cow.

[The sudden unmistakable sound of footsteps and heavy laboured breathing. MULDER turns on his heel and gasps. EMILY, sitting serenely on the counter behind him, brightens up considerably and waves her little hoof at-]

[In a dizzying whirl, the camera pans across the kitchen floor, decorated with the odd knife and some forgotten piles of Jello powder. It settles on the entrance to the kitchen. As well as a pair of neon pink Nike sneakers.]

[The camera continues its journey upwards, taking in the rather baggy tailored black pants, a close-fitting black suit incongruous with the dazzling fashion statement made by the sneakers, up to the face of- you guessed it! the CIGARETTE-SMOKING MAN! About time, eh?]

[His face is creased into a cruel smile, a Morley cigarette dangling at the corner of his lips. He looks very much the consummate villain- until his eyes glaze slightly. He goes into a coughing fit, no doubt the result of many years of chain-smoking. Thumping his chest in a most undignified way, CSM attempts to recover his composure.]

CSM: (clearing his cancer-ravaged throat) Hello, Agent Mulder.

MULDER: You. Again.

CSM: (more charmingly) Hello, Emily.

EMILY: Hewwo, Daddy!! Daddy buy Jewwo for Emiwy?

MULDER: (sardonically) Daddy? (he laughs cynically) I should have known. You twisted pathetic little man.

CSM: Watch that mouth of yours, Agent Mulder.

MULDER: (defiantly) Give me one good reason why I should.

CSM: I can give you several. To save your own life. To save her- (he indicates Emily with the cigarette butt now clenched in his fingers). To avenge Agent Scully. Her mother. Her brother. Your employer and friend. Need I go on?

MULDER: (face tightening) No. What do you want? What will it take for you to stop meddling in our lives?

CSM: Nothing is ever that simple, Agent Mulder. It just doesn't work that way. (he seems to notice for the first time the Jello box clutched painfully in Mulder's hand) I see you've finally read the warning?


CSM: (almost grinning) Why don't you read it to me, then-?

MULDER: (with hate in his eyes and voice, he reads) ' Not to be eaten in excess. Not to be consumed in powder form and unsuitable for dunking. Especially keep away from cows. Will induce toxic reactions within the body, various speech impediments, a drastic reduction in intelligence levels and an inordinate lack of manual dexterity. Clumsiness is a common side effect. If consumed in large amounts, addiction is wholly possible. ' (he swallows with great difficulty and glares at his nemesis)

CSM: That's not all, is it? Go on.

MULDER: (taking a deep breath) ' Kwiks is in no way responsible for negligence of warning. No reimbursements will be made. Try Grape-Flavoured Peach Tea. ' I don't think there's anything more there that concerns us.

CSM: There you go. I didn't do anything much. We fed Emily in accordance with what were acceptable levels of the stuff. Your Agent Scully didn't. Didn't read the instructions either- didn't resist her daughter's copious demands- don't you think she deserved to..?

MULDER: (eyes blazing) Shut the fuck up! It's not Scully's fault, you monster! It's yours! You're sick! Perverted! Why are you rearing these children if you never meant to give them the love and joy this world can bring them? And why Emily? (his voice drops to a whisper) Why Scully?

CSM: I thought you would have known that, Agent Mulder. Isn't there a minimum intelligence requirement to be an Oxford graduate?

MULDER: Not really.

CSM: Because of you, Agent Mulder. It might seem implausible, stupid even, that a group of powerful and influential government officials like the Syndicate could be so needlessly worried over the insane ramblings of just one man. But you can destroy us, Mulder. Your beliefs are our common enemies. They threaten our stand. They also cause immeasurable pain to the people around you. Like Agent

MULDER: I still don't understand. I'm just one man. How much of a threat could I pose anyway?

CSM: Quite a big one, Agent Mulder. You're an annoying little bugger. Always getting under our skin, fouling up our plans, saving the whole world. You've done that too many times to be forgiven.

MULDER: If you just killed me, you wouldn't have a problem. Why implicate the others? Why cause them so much grief?

CSM: We can't kill you, Mulder. We have to torture you emotionally for seven interminably long years, preventing any true happiness in your life.

MULDER: (in an anguished tone) But why??

CSM: No real reason. I like it.

MULDER: That doesn't make any sense at all! Why don't you just kill me?

CSM: Well- (grins like a happy child)- if you're so insistent, maybe I will.

[he draws a gun from his front jacket pocket and walks over to stare MULDER right in the eye. He cocks the trigger lovingly and aims.]

CSM: Maybe after seven years, it really is time to end it all. What do you think, Agent Mulder? (he smirks gleefully) After all, there's no reason for you to hang around in this life anymore. Agent Scully's long gone. Why don't you follow her?

MULDER: (staring squarely at the barrel of the gun) Look, in the true tradition of Mafia-type death scenes, why don't I just ask one last question. For old times' sake?

CSM: (lowering the gun slightly) Sure. Shoot.

[Both notice the poor pun at the same time and half-smile in disgust at each other.]

MULDER: How did Emily turn into this- this bovine excuse for a human being? What did you do to her?

CSM: That's an easy question, Agent Mulder- she's essentially the same as she was two years ago when you saw her last. Most of her actions and her behaviour now, as you have probably inferred, are Jello-induced. We discovered sometime ago that Kwiks Lime-Flavoured Jello was the best substitute for the more expensive seaweed wraps we used to provide growing alien hybrids.

MULDER: You mean the green stuff they hibernate in- that used to be seaweed?!?

CSM: (nodding) And awfully expensive too. It's not easy exporting wholesale from Japan, you know. The best brands are often found in-

MULDER: (ponderingly) Sea kelp-

CSM: Excuse me?

MULDER: I said 'sea kelp'.

CSM: Oh. I thought you said 'seek help'.

MULDER: I think maybe I did.

CSM: (shooting daggers at Mulder with his eyes) Anyway, we were trying all kinds of nutrition sources for our little children here- and despite the rather numerous side effects of the Jello - it also causes a stemming of the blood circulation to the brain on first sampling, which explains your little fainting spell in the factory - it seemed the best substitute. Cost-wise.

[MULDER glances over at EMILY, who has remained quiet all this time. She has been struggling to get off the counter. MULDER turns his attention back to CSM]

MULDER: I can't believe you. You toy with these children's lives so easily- but how do you explain the bovine elements in Emily's character? That seems to have nothing to do with the Jello. Or at least it's not immediately apparent.

CSM: (laughing) That's rather a scientific breakthrough on our part, really, Agent Mulder. You should thank Agent Scully for that.

MULDER: (not comprehending a thing) Scully? How did she do this?

[he waves a dismissive hand at EMILY, who almost as if on cue, issues a tiny moo of exhaustion. It's not easy for quadrupeds to get off high counters.]

CSM: She allowed the first Emily to die, Agent Mulder. Two years ago, she let the first successful blend of alien and human girl - we speak of the embryo, of course - die. Our goons stole her back but we had to find a way to revive her.

MULDER: (light dawning) You mean to say- she's been spliced with the genes of a- (swallows again; his throat seems to be awfully dry tonight) cow?

CSM: You say it much better than I do, Agent Mulder. That's right. Emily is our first alien-cow-human hybrid. And a very successful one, I might add.

MULDER: Why- why a cow in particular?

CSM: (mysteriously) Now, Agent Mulder, that's enough questions from you for today. I was only supposed to answer one, was I not? (holding up the gun and giggling malevolently) Time to die!!

[By this time, EMILY has successfully clambered off the counter and plodded over to CSM's side.]

EMILY: (tugging on his coat) Daddy? Emiwy want more Jewwo.

CSM: Not right now, Emily. Daddy's busy.

EMILY: (like the spoilt cow she is) Wight now! Jewwo wight now!

CSM: (angrily) Oh here.

[Impatiently, he strides over to the shelf and easily gets a full box down for EMILY and shoves it at her. The gun is effectively kept trained on MULDER all the time.]

MULDER: (almost tenderly, like a wistful parent) Real brat, isn't she?

CSM: I don't see how she concerns you anymore, Agent Mulder. I think it's time for you to meet your Maker.

MULDER: I don't believe so easily in religious phenomena.

CSM: Oh, but an alien-cow-human hybrid is perfectly understandable?

MULDER: Sounds right to me.

[CSM turns the gun on MULDER's head again. Slow motion mode, camera bringing into tight focus CSM's tobacco-stained liver-spotted hand, the finger coming ever closer to the trigger.]

[Suddenly, like a stroke of bovine fortune, the customary mooing erupts from EMILY]

[Both men turn to look at her in wonder. She is nursing her hoof against herself, mooing pitifully. In attempting to rip the Jello box open, EMILY has sustained a fatal paper cut. Though
of course, not fatal to her.]

EMILY: Daddy, Emiwy got boo-boo!

CSM: Good Lord, Emily, why are you so clumsy?

MULDER: (spitefully) You should know why. (reciting the line almost as if he had memorised it) 'Clumsiness is a common side effect'. It's that stupid Jello again!!

CSM: Who are the morons who insisted on feeding her truckloads of the stuff every day?

MULDER: How were we to know it was so harmful?

[As the two of them stand squabbling, the forgotten EMILY lumbers over to get the attention she thinks she rightfully deserves.]

EMILY: Daddy, wook at Emiwy!! Wook at boo-boo!

CSM: Not right now, alright? (he grabs her by the wrist) Let Daddy work, OK?

MULDER: (suddenly remembering just exactly how dangerous the methane cows emit can be) Oh shit! She's dangerous! Get out of here! Fast!!

[However, it is too late for CSM, who has accidentally touched EMILY's wound. The toxic gas has permeated his system. Once again, he totters around unsteadily for a while, choking painfully and struggling to breathe.]

[Spurred on by the coughing - made worse by years of cancer - MULDER turns to make a run for it. But as Tragic Fate would have it, EMILY catches hold of his leg and hugs it to herself with all her bovine might.]

EMILY: Unkie Fox? Jewwo for Emiwy?

MULDER: (with a hand over his mouth) Emily, let go of Uncle Fox. He'll come back and get you later.

EMILY: (persistently) No, Emiwy wan Jewwo nnoooooooow!

CSM: (turning blue) Ughahahhccccck!

MULDER: Emily, I really have to go.

[sadly and ironically, MULDER chose to respond to the little cow's advances. His nasal passages have been irrevocably exposed to the toxins flowing out of EMILY's paper cut. He too, begins to choke, and sets foot on the same path that so many people before him have trod: SCULLY, MA SCULLY, BROTHER SCULLY, SKINNER- etc.]

CSM: (stumbling around the kitchen helplessly and tripping over the prostrate body of Skinner) Oops.

[Crashing to the floor, his hand flies to his collar, trying desperately to loosen it. But just as the first button becomes undone, his eyes cross and the life ebbs out of his liver spots. ]

MULDER: (in a forced falsetto) Oh, Emily! I die, I die! It is a far better death I go to, than anything else I could imagine! I have found the truth, Emily- (suddenly delusional) Scully? (titters insanely to himself) Scully- I can see you brandishing your scalpel! Oh Scully, I come, I come to your arms!

[Reaching out into empty space, MULDER staggers a few steps forward with the cow still clinging tightly to his thigh. Finally, brought down by the weight and inescapable death, he falls to the kitchen floor, increasing the body count to three.]

[Close-up of MULDER's face: his eyes have rolled far up into his head. Tongue lolling at a distended angle out of his mouth.]

[Camera lengthens to full-body shot. EMILY, weak from lack of Jello, now lies comatose, still tightly wrapped around MULDER's lifeless leg. She continues to moo weakly.]

[Shot of entire kitchen floor: sprawled across it are what used to be three great men, now reduced to the quintessence of dust. What a fitting ending.]

[Screen fades to black.]


[SCENE: a pastoral picture, set somewhere on a farm. Pretty little thatched cottages with fenced areas for animals. The camera moves slowly to a rather large farmhouse at the end of the road, and centres on a signboard on the stile.

Happy Bessie Farm
Specialising in Free Range Cows
Going cheap!

The camera continues panning, and zooms in for a tight shot into a first-floor window of the house. EMILY is seated on the window seat, staring dazedly out at her relatives, grazing freely in the meadows.]

FARMER'S WIFE VOICE-OVER: Emily, honey! Come and get it!

FARMER VOICE-OVER: Emily, it's your favourite! Jello!

[Close-up of EMILY's face. The eyes flicker for a moment, with what seems to be human intelligence, and then recede into blankness again. She smiles a little bovine smile.]

EMILY: Emiwy coming! Emiwy coming for Jewwo!

[she clambers off the cushions and lumbers off-screen.]

[Screen suddenly goes completely black.]

[Roll credits]

[Play creepy X-Files version of the advertisement jingle of the famous cheese, " La Vache Qui Rit ". EMILY's plaintive mooing, in acapella, becomes the main voice-over for the song, which is now bereft of all intelligible lyrics.]

[End episode.]

[End X-Files. Forever.]

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