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Date: Fri, 22 Oct 1999 09:45:05 -0500

Subject: TRASH NOVEL (repost) by Invisigoth Source: direct

Reply To: "Trash Novel" by Invisigoth

Summary: Scully reads (and relates?) to a trash novel

Classification: Implied MSR, Humor, UST

Archive: Do what thou wilst.

Disclaimer: All hail CC! LOL

Notes: Whatever. Peas

Dedication: For Padre Doughboy, the Jag Fan

"Trash Novel"

This is sick. I mean it. This is disgusting. It is the most pathetic, demeaning excuse for literature I have read since I accidently picked up a copy of "Maxim" at Vons a few weeks ago. Why do people *read* crap like this? What kind of people write this stuff? The same type that live in all pink and white houses on the beach, I'm sure. Books like this, with vibrant colors, pitching stories of sweeping adventure and torrid romance. Which, if you read between the lines, basically comes out to sex, sex, and more sex. A man slaps a slab of shit-smut in a book jacket with a title like "Christina's Folly," or like this one, "Forbidden Ecstacy" and calls it a book! Basically all this is is soft-core porn with a two-starred review. So, of course I open it. I'm weak. I'm human. "Oh, Rodolfo! We musn't! Oh, stop...I am your cousin's wife!" cried the flame-haired beauty tempestuosly. Huh. Yeah, like that's going to stop you in two paragraphs, Viviane. What kind of name is that, anyway? Viviane and Rodolfo? Doesn't even fit together. And why are all these slutty women red-heads? Gives us a bad name, if you ask me. "I don't care," murmured Rodolfo gruffly, his breath shimmering over her skin. Viviane felt a rush of heat flow down her spine. Ooooo. The "gruff" tone. A favorite of this type of literature. Not that I read crap like this, oh, no. That shiver..That happened to me once...The entire experience could be summed up in 4 words. "Scully, get over here." Ohhhhhh, yeah. Mulder said that to me, and there went my stomach to my throat, my knees buckled beneath me...Uhhhhhhhhuhuhuhuhuhuhuuuuuhhh...Hm..Huh? God, where was I? Erm. Nevermind. Well, I started this, I might as well just..Um..Read a few more pages.. He silenced her protests with a firm kiss as his strong hands violently tore at the heavily brocaded fabric of her bodice... Ugh, se what I mean? Pure, sexist, egotistical garbage! Bodice ripping? What is this, the Stone Age? What kind of people READ this..Honestly..Hey, wait a minute.. "NO RODOLFO! We cannot-will not do this-" cried Viviane insistently, struggling against his arms. "Very well," replied Rodolfo gently, releasing her. "My love, you complete me. I obey without question. You are my second half, and I am nothing without you..." How...I cried when he said that to me. Mulder. I broke down and cried. After years of pulling away, like this Viviane chick, I broke down. It was beautiful, and in his anger he'd lost control of his emotions for a few, fleeting, beautiful minutes. Words like that don't come from just any old partnership. They come from the heart. Not that Mulder and I will pull and Rodolfo and Viviane any time soon, if at all. Because who knows what would happen, huh? Maybe moments like those are best confined to fleeting moments and trash novels. The scenarios that could come out of a full blown confession are hideous. ME: Mulder, I love you. MULDER: Heh-heh, no? The name Diana ring a bell? or there's always: MULDER: Scully, I love you. ME: Um. Isn't this against FBI policy? or the enivitable ME: Mulder, I love you. MULDER: Great, um, I gotta go, there's a great new file I want to get my hands on... See what I mean? "I truly love you, Rodolfo," sighed Viviane, her soft grey eyes glittering with tears. "If ONLY..." Sigh. If only.... "If only *what*?" Shit! Mulder! I was doing research on the...No, um..I thought it was a medical journal.. Oh, HELL. "Um. Nothing." God, I must be turning so red... "Nothing?" he laughs, snatching the book from me easily. God, I hate being short. Vertically challenged, actually. Oh, fuck it all... "God, Scully," he grins, flipping through it. "I thought you'd have better taste than THIS!" He looks like he's going, to laugh at me, the bastard. Smug little twit. "Well, live and learn." I mutter, ducking my head. Cringe. Ooo, smooth. "Hey, no problem-" he replies breezily, tossing the book back onto the desk. Then he lowers his voice into a perfect "Rodolfo." "Viviane." Yeah. Right. Sure, fine, whatever. If only... Finis DIE FOWLEY DIE!!!! Feedback will be worshipped and replied to. CHECK OUT THE PROJECT: