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[escepticos] **Los X-Files en Navidad




* THE TRUTH IS OUT THERE... HO HO HO! *
An X-Files Holiday Sighting, author unknown :(

Mulder:  We're too late. It's already been here.

Scully:  Mulder, I hope you know what you are doing.

Mulder:  Look, Scully, just like the other homes: Douglas fir,
         truncated, mounted, transformed into some sort of
         shrine; halls decked with boughs of holly; stockings
         hung by the chimney, with care.

Scully:  You really think someone's been here?

Mulder:  Someone or some THING.

Scully:  Mulder, over here -- it's fruitcake.

Mulder:  Don't touch it! Those things can be lethal.

Scully:  It's O.K. There's a note attached: "Gonna find out
         who's naughty and nice."

Mulder:  It's judging them, Scully. It's making a list.

Scully:  Who? What are you talking about?

Mulder:  Ancient mythology tells of an obese humanoid entity
         who could travel at great speed in a craft powered by
         antlered servants. Once each year, near the winter
         solstice, this creature is said to descend from the
         heavens to reward its followers and punish its
         disbelievers with jagged chunks of anthracite.

Scully:  But that's legend, Mulder -- a story told by parents
         to frighten children.    Surely, you don't believe it?

Mulder:  Something was here tonite, Scully. Check out the bite
         marks on this gingerbread man. Whatever tore through
         this plate of cookies was massive -- and in a hurry.

Scully:  It left crumbs everywhere. And look, Mulder, this milk
         glass has been completely drained.

Mulder:  It gorged itself, Scully. It fed without remorse.

Scully:  But why would they leave it milk and cookies?

Mulder:  Appeasement. Tonight is the Eve, and nothing can stop
         its wilding.

Scully:  But if this thing does exist, how did it get in? The
         doors and windows were locked. There's no sign of
         forced entry.

Mulder:  Unless I miss my guess, it came through the fireplace.

Scully:  Wait a minute, Mulder. If you are saying some huge
         creature landed on the roof and came down the chimney,
         you're crazy. The flue is barely six inches wide.
         Nothing could get through there.

Mulder:  But what if it could alter its shape, move in all
         directions.

Scully:  You mean, like a bowl full of jelly?

Mulder:  Exactly. Scully, I've never told anyone this, but when
         I was a child my home was visited. I saw the creature.
         It had long white strips of fur surrounding its ruddy,
         misshapen head. Its bloated torso was red and white.
         I'll never forget the horror. I turned away, and when I
         looked back it had somehow taken on the facial features
         of my father.

Scully:  Impossible.

Mulder:  I know what I saw. And that night it read my mind. It
         brought me a Mr. Potato Head, Scully. IT KNEW I WANTED
         A MR. POTATO HEAD.

Scully:  I'm sorry, Mulder, but you're asking me to disregard
         the laws of physics. You want me to believe in some
         supernatural being who soars across the skies and
         brings gifts to good little girls and boys. Listen to
         what you are saying. Do you understand the
         repercussions? If this gets out, they'll close the
         X-files.

Mulder:  Scully, listen to me: It knows when you are sleeping.
         It knows when you're awake.

Scully:  But we have no proof.

Mulder:  Last year, on this exact date, S.E.T.I. radio
         telescopes detected bogeys in the airspace over
         twenty-seven states. The White House ordered a
         Condition Red.

Scully:  But that was a meteor shower.

Mulder:  Officially. Two days ago, eight prized Scandinavian
         reindeer vanished from the National Zoo in Washington,
         D.C.  Nobody - not even the zookeeper - was told about
         it. The government doesn't want people to know about
         Project Kringle. They fear that if this thing is proved
         to exist, then the public would stop spending half its
         annual income in a holiday shopping frenzy. Retail
         markets will collapse.  Scully,they cannot let the
         world believe this creature lives. There's too much at
         stake. They'll do whatever it takes to insure another
         silent night.

Scully:  Mulder, I --

Mulder:  Sh-h-h! Do you hear what I hear?

Scully:  On the roof. It sounds like . . . a clatter.

Mulder:  The truth is up there. Let's see what's the matter.