My Fowley Bash :) by Mary Hawkins
NOTE: The beginning of this story bears extreme resemblance’s to a
Simpsons episode...I know this, don’t tell me about it.
Nevertheless, it contains pain for the one we hate most. Be gentle
in your criticisms, this is my first attempt at a Fowley bash. No
offence intended, ppl don’t belong to me, no profit made, if you
don’t like violence, removal of limbs and other body parts, or you
*like* Fowley (weirdos), don’t read this. I cannot be held
responsible for any emotional distress caused. Mimi Rogers, or Mimi
Rogers fans, go away cuz I make less than flattering comments about
MR/DF’s appearance. Oh, and I use the word ‘suddenly’ a lot. Anyone
who can think of an alternative, I beseech you to tell me it. I’m
very sorry if you share the injuries that Fowley obtains. It was
impossible to please everyone whilst using injuries, especially when
using so many *g*...just remember, you’re not a cow, and she is.
RATING: PG-13 to be on the safe side, it contains violence that
might offend the sensitive souls of the Net.
AND THE BIG AUTHOR'S NOTE:THIS IS NOT MEANT TO BE THE BEST WRITTEN
OF PIECES. I DID NOT SET OUT TO IMPRESS PPL WITH MY
DESCRIPTION/DIALOGUE/WHATEVER. I SET OUT TO INJURE THE ONE WE HATE
MOST. DIANA FOWLEY.
Fowley had been assigned to work with Mulder, Scully and another
agent. Scully was not amused. Fowley was pleased to have the
opportunity to be with ‘her’ Fox, with whom she had the delusion she
would one day marry. They were investigating a series of mysterious
events involving what appeared to be mass suicides down a massive
canyon. Scully knew she and Mulder could have solved the case alone,
but Skinner had been insistent that four agents were sent. Scully
had her suspicions that it might be to bring her and Mulder a little
more into the mainstream, and to improve relations between agents,
but she was not in a position to comment.
They gazed down into the ravine. To Scully, the temptation to push
Fowley over the edge was verging on irresistible, but eventually her
common sense conquered it. Fowley got very close to the edge, and
began to inspect the area where the people ‘jumped’. Scully could see
that she was conducting the procedure all wrong, but refrained from
telling her so. Mulder however, gently pointed out her errors. Scully
seethed. Suddenly, Fowley lost her foothold. Mulder put out his arms
to grab her, but was a moment too late. Fowley went tumbling down the
edge, as Mulder let out a prolonged yell. Scully put a hand to her
mouth, more to cover the understandable evil cackles she was producing
than as a sign of horror.
“Ohmigod, Scully, is she dead?” Mulder asked in a sort of stupor.
Scully gazed at the limp figure below. “I think so, Mulder..” thought
Scully. Suddenly, Fowley weakly raised an arm.
“She’s alive!” Mulder gasped, “Scully, fetch an air ambulance or
something!”
Scully dejectedly ran for help, muttering about Diana Fowley’s seeming
incapability to die. The ambulances arrived, and DF was loaded into
one. As the ambulance drove away from the scene, however, it smacked
into a tree, the back doors flung open, and DF’s stretcher rolled out,
taking Fowley crashing down the canyon.
“Noooooooooooooooo!” screamed Mulder. Unfortunately for the rest of
the world, the bandaging prevented Fowley from being deceased, and
she made it to the motorway (that’s a freeway) this time. Suddenly,
the ambulance was cut in front of, and amid a flurry of honking
horns, screeching tyres and shouts, a pile up was created.
Nobody was injured, by some miracle [and the author’s determination
that *nobody* is harmed except *her*], with the exception of Fowley
whose legs were smooshed and consequently amputated. They were later
used as dog food, but the dogs, showing an incredible sixth sense,
refused to eat it.
Nevertheless, she refused, once again, to die.
Once at the hospital, and all other wounds treated, it was arranged
for artificial legs to be fitted on her. As soon as she left the
operating theatre, an anxious Mulder (grrr) pounced on a nurse. “How
is she?”
“Uh...Mr Mulder, sometimes hospitals make mistakes...”
“Yes...” Mulder asked warily.
“Well, it’s just that when you see Ms Fowley, you’ll notice a few
differences...”
“What?”
“You see, the surgeon saw her face and thought that it was a case of
complete plastic surgery to disguise that face of hers...”
“But her face wasn’t injured in the accidents.”
“I know that, Mr Mulder. But anyway, nobody objected, they all thought
she kinda needed it too. And, as with all surgery, there was the chance
of problems, complications...”
“What are you trying to tell me?” Mulder demanded.
“Ms Fowley has no ears, no nose, and her lips are the size of
sausages.” the Nurse mumbled.
“Whaat?!” Mulder screeched.
Mulder stared at the face that was once recognisable as Fowley.
Scully stood beside him.
“How could this happen, Scully?”
“Well, I admit it was a serious error, Mulder, but, if you look at her
closely, you’ll see it is actually an improvement...” Scully said.
Mulder stared at Fowley. “I think I see what you mean, you
know....her eyes....I don’t know, they’re less...”
“Eagle like?” Scully suggested.
“Mmmm, yeah, I think that could be it...”
Suddenly, Fowley awoke. “Fox!” she murmured.
“Hi, Diana. How are you feeling? Nurse, this patient has awoken.”
“What do the legs look like?” Fowley asked, concerned.
“Uh...I can’t be the judge of that, Diana. Ask the nurse.”
Fowley turned expectantly to the Nurse....
X X X X X X X X X XX X X X X X
Ten hours later, and Fowley was still crying her eyes (or what was
left of them) out.
“Don’t patients normally stop this grievance period a little sooner?”
Mulder asked the Nurse.
“Well...it depends, but I have to say I am astonished at the amount
of tears her body appears to contain.” The Nurse said.
“Mmm. When will she be able to return home?”
“Well, as she is refusing to have any more surgery, she can return
tomorrow morning. Will you be able to look after her until she finds
her feet - ah, bad choice of words - until she is able to learn to look
after herself?”
“Of course.” Mulder turned to Fowley “Did you hear that, Diana? You can
leave hospital tomorrow.”
Fowley turned to Mulder, nodded briefly, then began to cry again.
The next day, Mulder took Fowley outside. He put her by the bins
outside the hospital, and then went to get his car from the car park.
When he returned, he suddenly let out a yell. Fowley was being lifted
into the waste disposal truck, and was about to be mushed by the
mincer. “No!” he shouted, “Stop! That’s not garbage, that’s a
woman!” He was too late, however. Fowley was mush.
THE END. *VVVVVBG*. Mulder did ask the garbage ppl how they mistook
Fowley which they returned with a nonchalant look. Scully could shed
no light either, but thoughts did run through her head about
resemblances to Oscar the Grouch.
