|And now from our Everything is So Mysterious department, here is
Subject: X-Files Xmas
24 December 1999 -- 57 Elm Street, Bethlehem, Pennsylvania --
Scully, we're too late. It's already been here.
Mulder, I hope you know what you're doing.
Look, Scully, just like the other homes: Douglas fir truncated,
mounted, transformed into a shrine; halls decked with bows of
holly; stocking hung by the chimney with care.
You really think someone's been here?
Someone, or something.
Mulder, over here, It's fruitcake
Don't touch it! Those things can be lethal!
There's a note attached: "gonna find out who's naughty and nice."
It's judging them, Scully. It's making a list.
Who? ... What are you talking about?
Ancient mythology tells of an obese humanoid entity who could travel
at great speed in a craft powered by antlered servants. Once each
year just after the winter solstice, this creature is said to descend from
the heavens to reward its followers and punish disbelievers with jagged
chunks of anthracite.
But that's legend, Mulder, a story told by parents to frighten children.
Surely you don't believe it?
Something was here tonight, Scully. Check out the bite marks on this
gingerbread man. Whatever tore through this plate of cookies was not
only massive -- but in a hurry.
It left crumbs everywhere. And look, Mulder this milk glass has been
It gorged itself, Scully. It fed without remorse.
But why would they leave it milk and cookies?
Appeasement. Tonight is the Eve, and nothing can stop its wilding.
But if this thing does exist, how did it get in? The doors and windows
were locked. There's no sign of forced entry.
Unless I miss my guess, it came through the fireplace.
Wait a minute, Mulder. If you're saying some huge creature landed on
the roof and came down this chimney, you're crazy. The flue is barely
six inches wide, nothing could get through there.
But what if it could alter its shape, move in all directions at once?
You mean, like a bowl full of jelly?
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 shanks of
fur surrounding its ruddy, misshaped 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.
I know what I saw. And that night, it read my mind. It brought me a
Mr. Potato Head, Scully. It knew that I wanted a Mr. Potato Head.
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're saying. Do you understand the repercussions?
If this gets out, they'll close the X-files.
Scully, listen to me: It knows when you're sleeping. It knows when
But we have no proof.
Last year on this exact date, SETI radio telescopes detected a bogey
in the airspace over twenty-seven states. The white House ordered a
But that was a meteor shower.
Officially. Two days ago eight prized Scandinavian reindeer vanished
from the National Zoo in Washington D.C. Nobody -- not even the zoo
keeper 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 the public will 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 what ever it
takes to insure another silent night.
Sh-h-h. ... Do you hear what I hear? ... On the roof. ... It sounds like
The truth is up there. Let's see what's the matter....