A Midsummer Night's X-File By suspect affiliations and Stev Saint-Onge A bit of background: Back in the day, Stev and I were in a production of "A Midsummer Night's Dream", around the time of "Redux" and "Redux II." In this little piece, we've casted "Midsummer" with the characters of XF as follows: Mulder as Demetrius Scully as Helena Skinner as Lysander Marita as Hermia Krycek as Puck CSM as Bottom, and the Syndicate as the Mechanicals For those of you unfamiliar with the plot of Shakespeare's play, suffice it to say that Puck enacts some funky magic that results in the boys falling in love with the wrong girls and Bottom turning into an ass (literally, a jackass). Of course it all works out into a happy ending when the lovers watch a play put on by the Mechanicals. We just re-wrote a couple of scenes, so don't worry too much about trying to follow the plot . * * * * * * * PUCK: Through the city have I gone, but FBI agent found I none on whose eyes I might approve, this flower's force in stirring love. Night and silence, who is here? Weeds of the Bureau he doth wear! And here the maiden, sleeping sound, on the dank and dirty ground! Poor maiden, she durst not lie near this lack-love, this kill-courtesy. Churl! Onto thine eyes I do throw, all the power this charm doth owe. When thou wakest, let love forbid sleep. Wake when I am gone, for I am now to Cancerman. HELENA: Skinner? One the ground? Dead or asleep? I see no blood, no wound… Skinner, if you live, good sir, awake! LYSANDER: And run through fire I will for thy sweet sake! Transparent Scully, nature shows art, that through thy bosom has bewitched my heart! Where is Mulder? Oh, how fit a word is that name to perish on my sword! HELENA: Say not so, Skinner, say not so! Though he loves your Marita, lord, what though! * * * * * * * BOTTOM: Are we all met? QUINCE: Pat, pat, and here's a marvail's place for our Consortium. This hidden racetrack our meeting place, this little chair our ass-supporters. BOTTOM: Fat man! QUINCE: What sayest thou, CSM? BOTTOM: There are things in this plan to kill Mulder that will never please. First, we must get a gun to kill him with, by which conspicuity cannot abide! How answer you that? SNOUT: Byers larkin! A parlous fear! STARVELING: I believe we must leave the assassination out, when all is done. BOTTOM: Not a whit! Make me a cover-up, and let the cover-up seem to say that we will tell no lies to the people, and that Mulder was not murdr'd indeed, but committed suicide! This will put them out of suspicion. QUINCE: That is all well, but, there are two hard things. First, we must bring in a false alien, for Mulder and Scully, says his ID file, did search for one such extra-terrestrial. SNOUT: Doth we have a good informant? BOTTOM: A rat! A rat! Go to the gutters and find out Krycek. QUINCE: He is available! BOTTOM: Why then you may have him place an implant in his partner's neck, and the cancer may flourish by the implant. QUINCE: Or some man must come in with proof and a Pentagon clearance pass and say he comes to debunk, or to disprove, Mulder's X-Files. But there is one more thing, and that is to show Mulder his sister, for in his hypnosis tapes he doth say she were then abducted. SNOUT: You can never bring back Samantha! What sayest thou, bully Cancerman? BOTTOM: Some man or other must bring back Samantha… and let him have some cigarettes or mystique about him. And let him smoke his cigarettes thus and through that method shall he develop lung cancer. QUINCE: If that is done, then all is well. Come, every government agent, and discuss your plans! Blevins, stand forth! BOTTOM: Blevins, the FBI agent that plaith a sneak! QUINCE: Ssh! Denial! Denial! BOTTOM: That doth NOT plaith a sneak! So is thy jiggling fat, my dearest Blevins dear! But hark! Alack, Mulder! Stay thee but here awhile, and by and by, I may to thee appear! PUCK: A stranger elder than e'er appeared! FLUTE: O most radiant Cancerman! Most pasty white of hue, as deceitful as most deceitful emissary that yet will not retire! I'll meet thee, Cancerman, at Bob's Racetrack! QUINCE: At _the_ racetrack, man! Why, you must not reveal that yet! You speak all your truths in secret! CSM, get back here, your "alone time" is passed, you must not retire! BOTTOM: If I were out of the loop, ‘twere no fault of mine! QUINCE: Oh hideous, oh, strange, we may be discovr'd! Pray, agents, fly, agents, HELP! BOTTOM: Why do they plot my death? This is a knavery of them to knock me off! PUCK: I'll expose you, I'll show you're a fraud. In word, in manner, in sight! Quickly I'll avenge thee, through USA Today and Sixty Minutes at every turn! * * * * * * * THE PLAY THESEUS: Where is our usual manager of information? Call Holly. PHILOSTRATE: Here, mighty FBI Director. THESEUS: Say, what case have we for this evening? PHILOSTRATE: A case there is, my director, some ten words long. But by ten words, my noble director, it is too long, for in all the case there is not one agent apt, one investigator sane. THESEUS: Then we shall hear it! PHILOSTRATE: No, my noble director, it is not for you. I have reviewed it over, and it is nothing. SNOUT: In this same interlude, let is be said that I, one Crew-Cut Man, shot Deep Throat dead. And such a death as I would have you say, that it occurred in a most nefarious way. But no one suspected the conspiracy I ran, due to the cover-up scheme that was planned. This suit, this tie, and this big gun doth show that I am that same Crew-Cut Man, the truth is so. And this the evidence is, right and sinister, about which the fearful agents are to whisper. DEMETRIUS: It is the most honest conspirator that ever I heard discourse, my director. THESEUS: Another conspirator draws near. Silence! BOTTOM/PYRAMUS: O grim-looked day! O day with hue so bright! O day, in which no covert operations can take place! Alack, alack, alack, I fear my Blevins's promise is forgot; and thou, O Crew-Cut Man, O sweet Crew-Cut Man, show me the message, which Blevins assuredly left with thee! What? No message?! O wicked Crew-Cut Man, cursed be thee for killing my friend and thus deceiving me! THESEUS: Crew-Cut Man, methinks, being sensible, should turn himself in. BOTTOM/PYRAMUS: No, in truth, sir, he should not. That is to come later, after he hath botched yet again. For now, Blevins is to enter. Yonder he comes. FLUTE/THISBY: O Crew-Cut Man, full often hast thou heard my moans for mismanaging jobs assigned by my fair CSM and me. My hand of authority has often smacked thy head, thy head with the murder of Deep Throat upon it. BOTTOM/PYRAMUS: I see a voice! Now will I past Crew-Cut Man, that I can hear my Blevins's face. Blevins! FLUTE/THISBY: My co-conspirator; my co-conspirator thou art, my co-conspirator I think! BOTTOM/PYRAMUS: Wilt thou meet me at Skinner's office straightway? FLUTE/THISBY: Tide life, tide death, I come without delay! SNOUT: Thus have I, Crew-Cut Man, my part discharged so; and being done thus Crew-Cut Man away doth go. THESEUS: Here come two confessing beasts, a chauffeur and a Well-Manicured Man. SNUG: You agents you, whose hard hears do want nothing more than a confession of me, may now be quite aroused here. Then know that I as Well-Manicured Man am, no evil being, no else no killer and liar. For if I should as criminal come in strife into this place, ‘twere pity on my life! STARVELING: This Hot Wheels is my car; I the chauffeur do seem to be. THESEUS: This is the greatest mistake of all. The man should be _in_ the car; how else is he to be the chauffeur? DEMETRIUS: He dares not go in, for he sees the brake-wires have been cut. STARVELING: All I have to say is, this Hot Wheel is my Hot Wheels, these black driving gloves my black driving gloves, and this drivers' license my drivers' license. FLUTE/THISBY: This is Skinner's office; where is my co-conspirator? SNUG: Traitor! FLUTE/THISBY: Arh! * * * * * * * And that's it . No, it's not the full play, but you'll have to accept it – given that we wrote this six years ago, we're not about to do more now. If you didn't get it, I recommend reading/seeing the play, just on general principles and also because it makes it funnier.