"Suburban Leprespawn" by JBeanfest@aol.com begun 
5/1/96 finished, by God, 12/24!!
 
Just when you thought you were safe, it's the third stupid 
one of these, the sort-of-but-not-necessarily-sequel to 
"Three Wishes" and "Little Green Women." Head for the 
hills if you're allergic to cheese, because here comes 
"Suburban Leprespawn." I think the title says it all. I 
apologize in advance for this one. 

Remember "Three Wishes" and "Little Green Women?" 
No? Well, I forgive you. You *don't* have to have read the 
other two to get this. I'm not sure where you can find the 
other stories, so if you can't I guess I could e-mail them to 
you if you really wanted them. In any case, you're gonna 
have to endure another set o' wishes. I can't help but write 
it. I just learned (this was in May) that the powers of cheese 
are working on a "Leprechaun 4" movie. Well you can see 
the inspiration just oozing from that information. Guess I'd 
better warn you, this probably has less plot than the last 
two. But I needed to write it anyway. I'm working on 
something that's supposed to be good, and it's hard. So this 
is my release. All my bad writing habits and stupid ideas all 
rolled into one cheeseball story. It's a purging, if you will.

Don't read on if you don't like bad words, a little ickiness, 
implied sex, or cheese. In other words, this is kinda like a 
one-star movie. . . bad. What else can I say? 

So, your job is cheese-tasting. Put it in your mouth, chew it 
into a chunky drooly mass and swallow it, or spit it back all 
over me. Either way, I'll be happy. Send all saliva-coated 
regurgitated chunkettes to me at JBeanfest@aol.com. 
Remember, I will accept the nastiest, most gelatinous 
loogie you can pitooie my way. Heck, I actually like 'em 
kinda gelatinous. 

God-types, please don't be offended by "Julia's unique 
religious practices.

Okay, seriousness, folks. The X-Files don't belong to me. 
They belong to CC, FOX, and 1013. The original 
leprechaun movie belonged to someone, I forget. It's 
disclaimed in "3 Wishes." Settle down, I'm not making any 
money here. Feel free to redistribute this, archive it, send a 
copy to the president, I don't care, as long as this disclaimer 
stays with it.

Oh, yeah, um. . . any person here resembling someone real 
is just a coincidence. (tee hee) But some events are based 
upon actual occurrences. (Really, with just a tiny bit of 
exaggeration. . . maybe.)

This one goes out to EJ and Noogi the invisible Yak. Also 
to my imaginary older brother, and now pumpkin, 
Matthias. And to my favorite marching band geeks-- you 
know who you are.

A sort of but not really sequel to "3Wishes" and "Little 
Green Women" begun 5/1/96 (believe that or not), and 
finished because I love to torture people, especially myself, 
on 12/24 by JBeanfest@aol.com

"Suburban Leprespawn"

Brooklyn Park, MN

A single shrill scream mingled with the sound of a 
lawnmower. Dogs' ears perked up at the unfamiliar noise. 
On the other side of the fence, Ann Flanders stood over her 
rock garden, eyes round and wet, fists clenched. No one 
saw her body wilt to the ground, but it did make a sound as 
it came to rest beneath a half-changed maple. A dead 
brown leaf fell silently to the ground among the small 
rocks, filling the fresh black dirt void. The dogs turned 
their interest to a blur of green as it flew across their yard.

HALF AN HOUR LATER

 Through the bay window, Matthias watched Ann looking 
through her bushes *again.*. He sighed deeply. This 
neighborhood had way too much time on their hands. Hank 
had called his mom earlier on in the search. In turn, his 
mom informed Matthias that there was a big and juicy 
reward of "a twenty" (which probably meant in Hank's 
language two shiny dimes) for information leading to the 
capture of the neighborhood's lawn-ornament thief. Ann 
was pacing now, her footfalls a distant clack through the 
window screen. She stopped to wipe a speck of dust off the 
driveway, and went to the next bush. Matthias thought he 
heard a sob. But, he reasoned, watching the leaves scutter 
down the street, could have been the wind.

THE NEXT DAY

"Can you explain to me again what we're doing here?" 
Scully asked Mulder, shielding the sun from her eyes with 
her hand. 

"I owed the guy a favor. A big favor. His wife's lawn 
ornaments were stolen yesterday, and he wants us to find 
them."

Scully almost laughed. But then, a woman wearing a 
sweater and blue chick Dockers emerged from the garage, 
promptly shutting her up. 

"Oh, hello, you must be the FBI people," she extended her 
hand to Mulder first, and then Scully. 

"I'm Fox Mulder, and this is my partner Dana Scully," 
Mulder introduced, smiling. 

"Pleased to meet you," she said, "I hope it wasn't any 
trouble for you two to come,"

"Not at all," Scully said. Upon further inspection, she found 
the garage to be carpeted in spotless white berber.

"You had some property stolen?" Mulder prompted.

"Yes, but let's not talk out here. I have some Rice Krispie 
bars and Evian water for us inside."

They sat down at the table and listened to the sad story. 
Mulder had a Rice Krispie bar. And then they left, Mulder's 
eyes sparkling. 

"I'm glad I don't have problems like hers," Scully sighed. 
She was headed for their rental, but Mulder stood on the 
fringe of Ann's driveway. 

"Hey Scully, don't you want to interview the neighbors?" 
Mulder was already heading for the green house next door 
when she turned around. A dog standing in the bay window 
barked as Mulder approached. Scully shrugged and 
followed Mulder through the yard. He was looking for the 
doorbell when a woman called out from the next yard 
down.

"Hey!"

The woman was wearing a sweatsuit and a green plastic 
rosary. She walked up quickly, examining the two agents 
carefully as she approached. 

"Hi. FBI Agent Fox Mulder, this is my partner, Scully. 
We're investigating a theft."

"Oh, you mean Ann's yard decorations," the woman 
suggested. She crept closer, motioning for the agents to 
bend in close, "I know who did it." The woman smelled 
weird, a like alcohol, but sweet too. Scully wasn't having 
much luck at placing the scent, although the smell was 
having very good luck at making her a little nauseous. 

"Who?" 

"The gremlins."

Mulder nodded, and he got that look in his eye. He was 
actually considering this as truth? This coming from a 
woman whose breath smelled like. . . God, what is that? 

"My husband Rick doesn't believe me, and I know it sounds 
crazy. But after I saw that lawnmower running by itself, I 
talked to Jesus, and he warned me."

"Lawnmower?" Mulder asked.

"I was sitting in the front yard yesterday. I decided to go 
over and say hello to my new neighbors, but they weren't 
out. The lawnmower was in their back yard, running by 
itself. So, I asked God what evil had moved in to the house 
behind me. He warned me, "Beware the gremlins," so I 
warned my neighbors. They don't believe me, but It's true."

"What's your name?"

"Julia. Julia Childs."

"Well, thank you, Julia. We'll look into that," Scully said, 
smiling. She had to get out of the range of that breath. Who 
the hell in their right mind drinks vanilla extract? Scully 
was sure that was the reason for the breath. What else 
could it be?

"Be careful," the woman warned, and turned away. Mulder 
shrugged and smiled at Scully before knocking on the door 
of Ann's neighbors. 

A teenage boy answered the door. He ran a hand through 
his disheveled hair and yawned.

"Hi," Mulder whipped out his badge and delighted in the 
stunned look in the kid's eyes. "I'm Mulder, and this is 
Scully, my partner. Are your parents home?" A dog poked 
it's nose between the boy's leg and the doorframe. He 
reached down for the animal's collar and called back to his 
mother at the same time. 

"Can I help you?" The middle-aged woman asked. Mulder 
flashed his badge again and the woman invited them in. 
Two large dogs sniffed and nosed and wagged their big 
butts as the partners stepped inside.

"Matthias, put the dogs outside," the mother said. "I'm 
sorry." She apologized for the dogs. 

"It's okay," Scully assured, remembering her poor dog. She 
reached down and pet the larger, calmer one. The boy then 
led the animals away. Scully then realized a different smell 
she couldn't quite place.

"We'd like to ask you a couple questions about a recent 
theft," Mulder said, sitting on one of the leather loveseats. 

"Theft?" The woman asked.

"Some lawn decorations were recently reported missing by 
Ann Flanders."

Laughter erupted from what appeared to be the kitchen. 
The teenage boy emerged from the other room red in the 
face and gasping for breath. 

"Matthias," his mother growled, giving him a look only 
mothers know. Matthias was able to curb his hysterics. 

"Why do you find that funny?" Mulder asked.

"Gremlins took them," he said, grinning. Mulder 
straightened up.

"Did you see them take the decorations?" Mulder asked. 
The kid looked as if he'd had an accident in his jeans. 
Mulder was proud, because he was able to keep a straight 
face. 

"No," he laughed, "Julia told me."

"Julia is. . . um, mentally not-well," Matthias' mother 
explained, "she comes up with some pretty wild ideas when 
she's not on her medication." 

"Such as?"

"Well, there were the flying sock-fairies," Matthias began.

"She came up with a theory on how her missing so--" 
Matthias' mother stopped suddenly as something crashed 
through the bay window. Mulder and Scully jumped to 
their feet. Mulder ran out the door to look for the perp, as 
Scully picked up the object that stood out among the shards 
of glass.

"Thank God no one was hurt," Matthias' mother sighed. 
Scully held up the piece of porcelain to examine it. She felt 
the eyes of the two neighbors behind her, looking at what 
appeared to be an owl's head.

"Uh, I hope your partner knows how to deal with gremlins," 
the kid said. Scully dashed out the door after Mulder. 

The neighborhood stood strangely quiet and desolate, as if 
Scully had stepped out of the house and into the Twilight 
Zone. She looked from left to right, trying to figure where 
he'd gone. What signs were there to look for? Gremlin 
footprints? She had decided to go ahead and tell Ann of the 
latest case development, when a glimmer of movement 
caught her eye. She first dismissed it as being a squirrel or 
one of those other similarly harmless suburban woodland 
creatures. But as she stepped onto Ann's clean driveway, 
she heard a small laugh. It came from the direction of the 
neighbor house, but was too high to be the boy. Scully 
gripped her gun and headed for the shrub that appeared to 
be doing the laughing. 

*Boy, am I being paranoid,* she thought as she approached 
the little bush. There was nothing there, not next to it, not 
in it, not behind it. She turned back to go to Ann's. 
Something small and fast darted from the corner of the 
green house. Scully had not had a very good look at it, but 
knew that it was no squirrel. Squirrels don't come in green. 
She followed it around back. The two dogs penned in the 
fence were barking and looking behind their yard. Scully 
followed their gaze into the adjacent yard. Nothing seemed 
to be there, but Scully continued cautiously. When she was 
in full view of the yard, she stopped and looked around. 
Just when she was sure the loco mutts were barking at air, a 
miniature figure darted from behind a tree around the side 
of the yard's house. She broke into a run, after the. . . 
gremlin? Sock-fairy? 

She cut close around the corner of the house. 
Unfortunately, this prevented her from seeing what lay 
beyond the corner, and her body bounced nicely off 
Mulder's, stopping both searches with a fleshy *thud.*

LATER

Scully rubbed the spot where Mulder's knee had connected 
with her forehead. She squinted at her reflection in the 
windshield, hoping the bump didn't look as big as it felt. 

"Mulder, I think it's about time we called it a night."

"Go ahead and sleep, Scully. I can't help feeling that 
something's going to happen tonight."

"Nobody's home here, Mulder. We're wasting our time."

"Julia saw the lawnmower running without anyone pushing 
it at this house just yesterday. The neighbors say that new 
people moved in here a month ago, but nobody's seen any 
of the residents. *Could* be gremlins. If we watch long 
enough, we'll find out."

"Oh, please, Mulder. This from the neighborhood 
nutcase--a woman who drinks vanilla extract and sees 
flying fairies," Scully rolled her eyes at the dark. She 
suddenly froze. "No offense meant to you, Mulder."

Mulder cracked another sunflower seed and tossed the shell 
out the open window. The fall breeze oozed across his 
forehead, making his bangs tickle his face. Scully drummed 
her fingers on the dashboard. "How's your head?"

"Fine, Mulder." Her head snapped up in the direction of the 
dark house. A noise, like fingers on a chalkboard suddenly 
exploded from the residence. "What the hell is that?" The 
chalkboard noise was followed by a deep, throaty moan.

"Oh, baby!" is what Scully heard from the house next, and 
she wrinkled her nose. Mulder cracked another seed.

"I think someone left a window open," he said, between 
cracks.

"What are they doing?" Scully gasped.

"Boy, Scully, use your imagination."

"For God's sake, Mulder I didn't mean it like that. They're 
gonna wake the whole neighborhood."

"Depends on how long they're at it," Mulder drank some 
root beer.

"Well," she paused for a shrill, inhuman scream, "well, it 
doesn't prove they're gremlins."

"Gremlins procreate," Mulder groaned and stretched his 
legs best he could beneath the dashboard. They were stiff, 
but not as much as his butt. His one knee had a welt the 
circumference of a baseball sitting painfully on it where 
Scully had conked him with her head. A light flicked on in 
the house next door, shedding ghastly light along the 
silhouettes of bushes and parked cars. Another  voice 
joined the happy yelps and humid moans. The voice was 
angry and pretty well versed in the art of obscenity. From 
the dark house came a loud, long, shuddering sigh. Then 
silence. The light switched back off, and the noise 
disappeared into the still night. Mulder flipped another 
sunflower seed shell out the window. Scully leaned her 
head against the car door. 

"Scully,"

"Hmm?"

"You want kids?"

"What?" Scully sat straight up. Mulder smiled in spite of 
himself. 

"I asked if you planned on having kids someday."

Scully sighed. She opened her mouth to answer when 
THUD! Scully screamed. Mulder dropped his sunflower 
seeds all over his lap. Three small forms lay pressed on top 
of the glass. Six yellow eyes glowed from the three 
grinning faces. Mulder went for his gun, fumbling with the 
snap on his holster. 

"Oh, shit!" Scully whipped her gun out fast. The cold metal 
was heavy in her hand. The three grins faded to smirks. 

"I guess leprechauns procreate too," Mulder said. He 
gulped. The one closest to him was short and stumpy. He 
was wearing liederhosen and a beanie with the classic 
propeller twirling mindlessly in the breeze. The middle 
mini leprechaun looked just as it's father did in Las Vegas, 
green and dirty, with razor-sharp pointy teeth and tangles of 
red hair spilling out from beneath his hat. The third little 
green man was naked except for a blue shag carpet 
loincloth, exposing his hairy green body.

Scully's breath was like thunder in her own ears as she 
waited for the leprechaun pups to do something. It seemed 
to her that seconds dragged on endlessly underneath the 
watch of the three little monsters. The silence was tangible. 

Mulder gulped again. Scully turned her eyes slowly down 
and saw a flicker of movement in the darkness. A low, 
quiet noise started outside the open window. Mulder's hand 
darted from the darkness and hit the bar stretching out from 
the steering wheel. The windshield wipers flashed on with 
a <click> and the three were suddenly gone.

Mulder turned, and Scully opened her mouth, but both 
froze as the hum turned into a chuckle, and the chuckle 
escalated into maniacal laughter. In surround-sound. Scully 
felt the for little button above the trigger and pushed the 
safety off. It's snap relaxed her a little. A moving, laughing 
sea of black and yellow watched from the ground below. 

There was a definite throat-clearing, and the laughter 
stopped. 

"Come out of your car so blue,
Come out and bring your partner, too.
Get out of your seat,
And get ready to meet
69 friends waiting to play with you!"

The laughter escalated until the darkness disappeared 
underneath the glow of artificial light. 

"Sixty-nine?" Scully shuddered, watching the crowd move. 

"Must be teenage leprechauns," The hairs pricked up on the 
back of Mulder's neck.

"Gremlins! Gremlins! God help us!" More muffled shouts. 
Mulder thrust his badge out the window.

"FBI! It's past curfew! Go ho--" he was cut off. A 
leprechaun pup flew in the window and attached itself to 
Mulder's face. Scully's hand stung before she realized she 
had even stuck out. The little green body sat, head down 
and swooning on the dashboard. This mini-leprechaun had 
long yellow-blond hair and blue eyeshadow. Mulder wiped 
his lips off and shook his fingers. Green saliva dripped 
from his hand and congealed between his fingers. Still 
more of it oozed down his chin. "Scully, we need to make a 
run for it."

"Do you really think that that's a good idea?" The 
leprechaun house started moving slowly back and forth. 
Scully squinted. The '87 Sunbird wagon, the worst rental 
Scully had ever had, began to shudder. The world rocked 
like a boat in high waves. The leprechaunette darted out the 
window. The car thumped each time a side hit the ground.

"If we don't get out--woah--now, were gonna--aah--tip 
over!" Mulder opened his door and dove out. The noise was 
deafening. Scully yelled,

"Mulder!" The world flipped, and pain exploded in her 
head. Scully tried to call out again. Rough, leathery, hot 
fingers held her mouth shut. Yellow eyes grinned back at 
her as she faded into the laughing dark.

Mulder ran. Screw the natives, he was outnumbered. They 
needed backup. He saw Scully's shadow get out of the car 
after him, he was sure. She could handle herself. 

He heard the voices behind him, gaining, shrill and exited. 
The street turned into woods up ahead. A park. Mulder 
could barely make out a path between the plants. The little 
legs, he thought, would have a hard time running fast 
through the underbrush. The road stopped. Black shadows 
engulfed him. The brittle fall grass crunched beneath his 
feet. He blinked and swiped at his face when branches 
whipped him. A baseball field stood quiet, illuminated by a 
streetlight across an open field. Small round lights 
indicated houses there too. Mulder pushed for an extra 
burst of speed. Perspiration was beginning to conglomerate 
on his forehead. 

He was falling. The ballfield and houses were gone. 
Whoomp! Mulder hit ground. His head hurt. His ass hurt. 
The stars glowed at him way up, past the darkness. It was a 
pit, twenty feet deep. Over the side poked a face. It was all 
eyes and teeth, smiling like crazy.

"Hey," Mulder protested. The face moved quick, and pain 
filled Mulder's head. A rock bounced off his skull and 
landed beside his slumping body in the cold dirt.

LATER

"The lady's naptime is almost done,
It's about time we had some fun,
And now by fate's hand,
Here comes a band
And the lady has nowhere to run!" Laughter.

It didn't make sense. A band? Naptime? Scully hated these 
senseless dreams. Her eyes fluttered open. Blue sky and 
small clouds loomed above. What were those clouds called 
again? Not cumulus, the other. Scully couldn't remember. 
But they were pretty. And the one looked like a duck. 
Yeah, the beak was there and. . . Scully gasped. She felt 
pressure on her chest. It made it tough to breathe. 

"Have you ever danced with a marching band in the pale 
sunlight?" A disembodied voice asked.

"What? Mulder? Where's Mulder?" 

"I'm afraid he's busy right now." Laughter. Scully tried to sit 
up. The weight was holding her down. She tried again, 
making faint movements, but nothing so large as the 
bending of one finger. 

"What's going on?" Scully asked. More pressure built on 
her chest and arms, and two green faces appeared where 
the duck cloud had been. Adrenaline shot through her body. 
The leprechaun kits giggled.

"The situation to you I now explain,
You will soon be driven insane!
We made you part of this street,
To endure the marchers' feet,
And tons and tons of excruciating pain!" More laughter. 
God, where did they get these horrible limericks? Scully 
tried to look at her nose. She saw a black lump. That must 
be it. In the distance, a squealy rendition of something very 
band-sounding music started up.

"Tee hee hee, two blocks away-- maybe three!" A different 
voice chimed in. There was scattered laughter, and loud 
footsteps in all directions. "Quick, hide! They can't be 
allowed to see us!" Scully groaned. "Wait. Hocus pocus!" 
Scully tried to scream, but this time, she couldn't do 
anything but stare at the duck-cloud.
<> <>

Matthias heard the rumbling of distant drums and scowled. 
Here come the Park Central High marching band geeks. He 
looked through the gaping hole in the front window. Ann 
stood at the edge of the driveway, sweeping. Julia stood on 
the edge of his lawn with a video camera, ready to record 
the infinitely interesting and entertaining high school 
marching band practice. Matthias turned away from the 
window, and switched on "Saved by the Bell," to drown out 
what he could.

Five minutes screamed by. Scully was sweating an ocean, 
making her asphalt tomb hot and smelly. Julia had her 
camera ready to roll, to get the marching band action for 
future generations. Ann finished sweeping her drive and 
started clapping her hands to the tune of the tremendously 
tacky "Let's Go Band" blaring through the neighborhood 
and into the house. Well, there was no escaping the 
auditory abuse, so Matthias decided to watch the 
proceeding. With all the fuss over the FBI agents and their 
car, you never know, something could happen. Julia saw 
him watching and waved. He waved back. He hadn't been 
awake, but his mom told him that Julia had reported a 
gremlin sighting the previous night. Her neighbor said that 
he didn't see any sign of a gremlin, it was too dark to see 
anything but the silhouette of the G-men's car. He said that 
the whole fuss was just the two FBI agents making out 
*loudly* in their ugly red rental car. Now they were gone. 
Julia said the car was tipped over, and the gremlins dragged 
it into the park, where they promptly sunk it in the pond. 
But the other neighbors said that they hadn't seen gremlins, 
or a tipped-over station wagon being dragged away. Julia 
said they had all been "hypnotized by them evil gremlin 
eyes." At least that's what Matthias' mother had told him 
before she left for her leg-waxing. Whatever it was, 
Matthias hadn't heard a single moan.

The band turned around the corner. Thunder erupted in 
Scully's ears, pulsing against her body. With every bomb 
drum-beat, her eyes blinked and her head pounded. The 
feet were coming closer, in a slow, fateful march. Scully 
grit her teeth against the sound, the thunder, the feel.  

*Mulder,* she thought desperately, *where are you?!* 

Matthias sighed. How long did this have to last? If he was 
lucky, only an hour. Damn! There might be some fresh 
eggs in the fridge. The yolk would blend with the pukey 
yellow on the band's uniforms. He settled on the couch and 
stared out the broken window at the band geeks. He sighed, 
the sound was lost in the ear-numbing thunder of the 
drums. Who ever thought school band music was so good it 
oughta go walking around? The answer escaped Matthias. 
A fake audience laughed at Screech, and Matthais began to 
turn his head when something white and louder than the 
band streaked from the park on the corner.

A vibration slightly sharper than the sonic drums hit 
Scully's leg. Wet tears clouded over the clouds. She tensed 
in the wet, smelly oven of the street. The band was there.

Ann stopped clapping. 

They were stuck and it hurt and there was a group of 
people all dressed the same in the middle of the street. His 
shoulder grunted as he hit them, a flash of gold and green 
fell off to Mulder's right. He was running as fast as he 
could. The white and green and gold mass parted for him, 
and the music stopped. They hurt. Little teeth, but sharp 
teeth, sharp! His chest hurt, and now in the absence of 
"Aura Lee" he heard himself screaming. And then he 
looked down and Scully's face was on-- no, in the street. 

"Scully?" Mulder asked, stopped. His bare feet throbbed. 
The asphalt was warm, the breeze was not. 

"America's Funniest Home Videos, here I come," somebody 
laughed. It was a familiar voice, the crazy lady's voice. 
Mulder plucked a mini-leprechaun from his skin and threw 
it hard. 

"By God, what's all over you?" Someone screamed. Mulder 
looked down at the leprechaun younguns hanging like little 
ornaments from his Christmas tree body. 

"Cover your eyes, band members! He's naked!"

"Scully?" Mulder asked, plucking and batting away 'chauns 
as he knelt on the warm asphalt. 

"Tee hee hee," one of the little green kids laughed. 
"Abracadabra!"

Her mouth was free and she was gasping, sucking in air. 
There was not enough. There never would be. "Mulder?" 
She gasped, adrenaline surging through her head. 
Sandpaper lids closed over her wide eyes as she blinked his 
image into clarity.

"Shrinkage, Scully, I swear. It's cold out."

"What?" She moaned. A green grinning body flew 
overhead, propelled by Mulder's hand.

"We have to get you out of there."

"I'll get her out for you, tee hee!" A leprechaun spawn 
cackled. Scully was suddenly gone from the black tar. The 
collective gasp of the band gave Mulder a chill. 

"Where'd she-- hey!" Mulder stopped dead. He now had an 
extra head. 

"Mulder, what the hell have you gotten us into this time?" 
Scully's head roared from their collective shoulders. 

"Sightings, here I come," Julia gasped. Mulder glanced 
down slowly, surveying his naked freakish form. His lower 
lip trembled, the buzz of adrenaline began to hum behind 
his eyes. He laughed.

"I've always wanted breasts. And those are nice ones too," 
he said. His own hand slapped him.

"Ow!" The heads of Mulder and Scully gasped at the same 
time. 

Matthias fainted out of the broken bay window and into the 
shrubbery.

The band began to retreat, ever-so-slowly.

69 green grinning faces began to close in on the 
two-headed FBI agent. Mulder and Scully gasped together. 
There was a wrenching pain in his groin, and his head 
looked down, over his new breasts. Mulder saw that one of 
his legs, the slim smooth one, was going in the exact 
opposite direction of the strong hairy one. "Scully, we have 
to work together here," he said. She turned to him, with 
eyes that could melt steel. She opened her mouth to 
comment when there was a roar.

Julia the insane woman had abandoned her video camera 
for a machine gun. God only knows where she got that in 
suburbia. But she was raising it up, and screaming. Green 
and gold was flying again, but it wasn't the uniforms of the 
band, they were long gone. Mulder covered his eyes grit his 
teeth and tried not to feel the leppy guts sliding over his 
boobs. The thunder gun was silent. A hand was tugging at 
his. 

"Mulder, they're all dead," Scully's head said. "How are we 
going to ever be separated?"

Mulder looked down at his new, improved body. Two 
arms, two legs, two breasts, two heads. The green and red 
mess could never be divvied exactly into 69 leprechauns. 
Quite possibly, there was one or two out there. But then 
again. . .

<> <>

Scully stared at the green and brown below. She'd been in 
planes too many times to count, yet she still couldn't 
believe that all was cities and towns and people and cows. 
The glass was cold on her forehead. She closed her eyes. 
They snapped open as she felt some agitation next to her.

"Mulder, stop it," she growled. The uncomfortable shifting 
around stopped.

"Scully," he sighed, "when we get back to DC, we're gonna 
have to lay some ground rules. Number one is going to be: 
no more pantyhose."

"You'll get used to it, Mulder." He would, too. She did not 
fight her way through the boys club of the FBI just to be 
forced into a suit and tie.

"It's not that," Mulder's head whined, "It's just that I prefer 
knee-highs with my skirts. And don't worry, I'm pretty sure 
Frohike can get us in touch with a place that makes 
two-headed shirts."

Scully leaned back on the cold glass, closed her eyes. "I 
wouldn't doubt it." She sighed.

^, ,^
 (Y)
 
End. E-mail me. JBeanfest@aol.com. I'll be happy, 
whatever you say. Just don't tell my neighbors I made fun 
of them, 'cause they're mostly old republicans who don't 
like teenagers all that much, steal tennis balls, and murder 
squirrels, and you just don't wanna get on their bad sides. If 
you think I've changed in any way, good or bad, and if you 
care to see more "lepfiles" or think I've beaten this dead 
horse long enough, I need to know. I would also like to 
know if I spelled "liederhosen" correctly. BTW, if you do 
want to see more leprechaun antics, there's something 
wrong with you. No, just kidding. Go see the "Leprechaun" 
movie(s) available in the horror section of your local video 
store. Jennifer Anniston from that yucky "Friends," stars in 
the first one. But if anyone requests, or my brain rots 
further and convinces itself into doing another <shudder> 
sequel, it will be a while. I may have a TV-eaten attention 
span that can be pushed in any direction at the blink of an 
eye, but I owe it to myself to finish my serious (and 
therefore written much more carefully) stuff first.

P.S. Ultima game fans? If you want to read a snatch of 
serious Ultima 'fic, or you know someone who does, lemme 
know.

Okay, okay, I'm going.

JB


P.P.S. I utterly apologize for this story. To you and to 
myself.