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I'm Proud to Be an American.

by David Hearne

Subject: [glass_onion] I'm Proud to Be an American... (1 of 1) Date: Wednesday, May 22, 2002 12:48 PM

CLASSIFICATION: Post-ep for "The Pine Bluff Varient" RATING: R
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The assassin shot Joseph Lieberman first. The whining little fucker had always irritated him with his asinine pleas for 'civility' and his trembling obedience to power. Chunks of the senator's heart exploded out his back along with snapped bones.

Then he threw napalm at Jesse Helms. As the senator screamed and his doughy flesh burned, the assassin said, "Hmmm. That rich tobacco smell."

He proceeded to open fire on the rest of Congress. He bathed the senators with ammo, making them writhe and burst. For the most part, he fired indiscriminately, but he gave special attention to Tom DeLay. That one was made to get on his knees. "Do you believe in God?" the assassin asked. Before DeLay could answer, the assassin said "No one gives a fuck" and decapitated him with a machete.

After he was done with the senators, he focused on Bill Clinton and Al Gore. "Hey, Tipper!" he yelled at a camera. "Put a Parental Advisory on this!" He then shot a bullet into Gore's skull and caused brains to fly out in a wide pink spray. A lot of them splattered on Clinton. The President whimpered as the assassin pressed his gun against Clinton's lips.

"Suck my cock, you bastard," the assassin ordered. With his jaw and tongue trembling, Clinton opened his mouth. The assassin shoved the gun between the President's teeth. Clinton looked up at a smiling face, right before the assassin pulled the trigger...

"Mulder, wake up."

Mulder did just that with a yelp and a drop of sweat rolling off his forehead. Scully was standing over him as he lay on the couch.

"Oh, Christ," he moaned.

"Sorry that I let myself in," Scully said, indicating the door of his apartment.

"No, no, thanks. I'm glad you came in." He sat up on the couch and sighed.

"Nightmare?" Scully wondered.

"I'm not sure. That's what bothers me."

Scully's curious expression encouraged him to explain the dream he just had. She frowned slightly as he described the violent imagery, but made no other reaction than that.

"It was so strange and pornographic in its violence," he said. "And I worry that I may have enjoyed myself while it was going on."

He waited for Scully's comments which came after a few moments of silence.

"But it was just a dream," she said. "No one can convict you for your dreams."

"Yeah, but they might say something about you."

"Like what? That you want to shoot up Congress?"

"It says..." Mulder broke off his sentence, then turned away from Scully. "Why did they pick me?" he asked.

"What are you talking about?"

"Why of all the people in the FBI did I get the job of posing undercover in a violent militia?"

Scully sat down next to Mulder on the couch. "Because," she said, "you could be passed off as someone sympathetic to the group's causes."

"Gee, I wonder why."

"Are you sympathetic, Mulder?"

"No, of course not."

Scully waited for more from him. Eventually he said --

"But...sometimes...I think there are too many politicians and not enough book depositories."

She made a small, ambiguous noise in her throat. Mulder faced her.

"We know there is a corrupt element in our government. Even if there were no aliens, we still have powerful men doing something evil."

"Yes, Mulder. I know."

"Then why are we here? Why are we playing a game that has been rigged?" Mulder reached out and grabbed his FBI ID off a table. "What is the point of this?"

"What it represents is that we are not here to destroy the government. We are here to redeem it."

"Maybe there is no redemption. Maybe the best thing to do is just..." Mulder tossed the ID onto the table. "...burn the damn thing down."

"Now you are talking like a terrorist."

"I'm talking like an American. And Americans change things by blowing up shit."

"All Americans?"

"Okay, not all Americans. But..." Mulder rubbed his hands on his face. "...I don't know what to think."

"You're frustrated, that's what you are. And you're angry. I'm angry as well."

Mulder looked at Scully's unblinking eyes. "I know," he said quietly. "And you have even more cause to be so."

Scully nodded. "A lot has been done to me. And there have been times...well..."

She kept quiet for a minute, then shook her head. "Great. Now I'm thinking of who I would like to shoot."

"You wouldn't do that. You wouldn't go over the edge."

Scully smiled. "I'm glad you have that kind of faith in me. You should know that I have the same faith in you."

"Well, then, we've got faith. Yet here we are, no closer to realizing our goals than before. Hell, we're not even sure what our goals are."

"I thought we were here to reveal the truth."

"And if we did? Are we prepared to turn our country upside down by proving what we know?"

"I don't know what kind of country it would be. But I know it has to be better than one based on lies."

Mulder slowly nodded, then held out a hand. She held it and squeezed. The two of them leaned back on the couch. "Look at us," Mulder said. "Two budding anarchists."

"Sometimes I don't know what we are, Mulder."

"Well...I'm Special Agent Fox Mulder."

"And I'm Special Agent Dana Scully."

"We've sworn to uphold the law."

"And protect the innocent."

"And punish the guilty."

"We're Americans."

"With guns."

"I guess...we just proceed from there."

If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to David Hearne

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