Title: The X-Files First Cases - Ghost Hotel!!!
Summary: The first episodes of the X-Files you never saw.... because they were horribly embarrassing. Suffice to say, the writer was fired and Chris Carter has made the X-Files what we know today.
TIME: GETTIN' LATE
"MULDER! Will you PLEASE stop and ask directions?!"
"It's a shortcut, Scully!" Mulder answered, turning onto another road.
"A 'shortcut'. Mulder, I saw quakers plowing a field back there!"
"Probably just a coincidence."
Scully rolled her eyes and looked out the window. Who'd have thought driving with Mulder to FBI HQ would be harrowing? She watched as several Indian children played stickball in the field near the sign that said "CHOUPIX RESERVATION". Vaguely, she heard Mulder cursing as he threw the map into the backseat and proclaimed it false.
"Look, Mulder... Just pull over and ask. We've been driving for hours! We should've been there in forty-five minutes! Come on!"
"DANA, I know what I'm DOING, OK?"
"Don't call me Dana, Mulder. When did you get the idea you're more than a business associate?"
Scully looked out the window again after a while. "Mulder, listen. There's a Canadian mounty on horseback over there. Let's stop the car and ask him where we are."
"I know exactly where we are."
"Well, it's getting late. Can we please find somewhere to stay? We've been driving 15 hours!"
Mulder grinned. "You want to get a room?"
"Separate rooms, yes. If I was your WIFE I'd make you sleep on the sofa after this."
"Fine. The next place we get to we'll spend the night!" he surrendered. Scully sighed and looking back out the window, returned the Eskimo's wave hello.
The two soon spotted a large boarding house and pulled into it. Scully took a moment to check the mileage on the car and almost broke into tears. The two entered the house.
"SERVICE!" Mulder yelled as he rang the bell. A tennis ball came out of nowhere and hit him in the forehead. As he rubbed his bruise, a sinister, ghostly voice rang through the lobby.
"NO VACANCIES..." it booed.
"Hmph. Didn't have to hit me with the tennis ball. Fine, we'll find somewhere else!" Mulder called.
"Bull@#%, Mulder. I refuse to go back out there with you, even though I've always wanted to see Niagara Falls. I'm just too tired," Scully said.
"....Fine.." he frowned. "HEY, WE WANT A ROOM AND WE'RE TAKING ONE, DAMMIT!"
The ghostly voice flew on the wind... "Puuuusshhhyyyy..... PPPUUUUSSSHHYY...."
"SCREW YOU!" Mulder called back. "Come on, Scully. I'll just shoot off the lock."
The two agents made their way up the stairs and into the hallway, where several rooms lined the hallway. After brief consideration, they decided to knock upon the first, Room 13. Inside, they could hear a knocking and a muffled voice.
"Come on, Scully!" Mulder said as he slid his gun from his holster. He kicked the door open, and the two agents entered the room.
It was a rather average hotel room, if dusty. The only real difference was that there was a coffin halfway jammed under the bed. Their eyes widened as they realized the voice was coming from within it.
"My hero," sneered Scully as he took a few steps away.
"Stick it in your ear."
Scully didn't take offense to the remark. Mulder was plagued by sexual frustration. Fortunately, their whole platonic relationship would probably last no longer than a season. She waited patiently as Mulder blew open the lock on the coffin with his beretta pistol.
The lid fell from the coffin.... and a man in a coat and rather shoddy business suit climbed out of it. He rubbed his head and blinked his eyes for a moment, getting used to the wonderful space and freedom. He then looked around and saw the two agents, at which point he flashed a million-dollar smile which inexplicably has never been made a federal offense.
"Thank you, Sir! Thank you very much! Boy, have you ever spent time in a coffin? WOW! I was getting quite a cramp, I can tell you that much!" he smiled.
"Who the @#%* are you?" Mulder asked simply.
"Sam's the name! Crazy Sam! And I am crazy to make a deal with YOU, Sir, YES, YOU!!!"
"OF COURSE! Look at this coffin, buddy! Look at how horrible I look because of my time there! Doesn't the sight just make you think about Mortality, Sir? Doesn't it make you think? Tell me..." smiled Sam. "Are your loved ones truly protected? Are you going to leave them with CASH or DEBTS?!"
Mulder was struck with the reality of what he and Scully were facing. "You're a...-"
"...Life Insurance Salesman! But enough about me, what about YOU? What about your family? What about your wife here-"
Mulder blinked. "WIFE? She won't even let me call her by her first name!"
"You're missing the BIG PICTURE, man!"
"Excuse me...." Scully broke in. "...but how the sam hill did you get here?"
Sam smiled, damn him. "Well, I came here on a business call to see if the fine folk around here would be interested in some Life Insurance. The Customer Database had said there were plenty of people living here with health- hazards... Unfortunately, heh, it didn't mention they were all dead now."
"DEAD?" Mulder and Scully asked in unison.
"Yeah, turns out ghosts are a bit touchy about the subject," he (you guessed it) smiled.
"GHOSTS?!" Mulder said, actually smiled.
"Er, yeah, ghosts. Get that smile off me, buddy, you scare me. What are you, part of the Scooby Doo Gang? Well, think about my offer, Sir... Here's my card! Oh, and thanks for the help!"
Crazy Sam (a fitting nickname, they thought) tossed a business card to each of the agents and left.
"Ooh, my card's embroidered," Mulder mused. Scully turned hers over.
"Mine's got a personal phone number," she said, raising an eyebrow.
The two put away the cards and turned to each other.
"Well, here we are," Mulder said.
"Here you go," Scully grinned. "I call this room."
The door closed behind Mulder. Jezebel. He walked down the hall to another room and noticed the door was locked like the other. Fortunately, he had a business card to open it with.
As he was about to open the door, it swung wide... and an old man stepped out.
"WELL, WELL...." he grinned.
"In the name of all that is good in Heaven, NO..." Mulder whispered.
"HEY, REBA! It's them SPECIAL agents!" the man called into the hotel room.
"How's it going, Mulder? Anything SPECIAL goin' on?" Hubert beamed.
"NO, Hubert. Nothin' but a few ghosts I plan to look into."
"Oh, them... I know 'em. Played cards with 'em in the basement. A very SPECIAL occasion..."
"Hubert, don't go there."
"Whatever you say, Mulder. Wouldn't want to incur a SPECIAL agent's wrath, now would I?"
"You say there were in the basement?" Mulder asked, trying desperately to keep his mind right.
"Yep... they spend all night there. That's where you'll find 'em."
"Thanks, Hubert..." Mulder said, turning to walk away.
"Oh, and SPECIAL Agent Mulder?"
Hubert knocked Mulder onto his butt with a left hook. "Now we're even."
The door slammed shut as Mulder set his jaw back in place.
After conveniently losing his gun in a fall, Mulder entered the basement, flashlight in hand. This was not say the flashlight worked, because it didn't. The flashlight was a complete piece of crap. It was one of those stupid, cheap things you buy at gas stations.
"OOOOOOOO......" came a ghostly voice in the air. Mulder tensed and continued down the steps.
Unheeding the ghostly call, Mulder's foot landed in a bucket. The agent plummeted to the basement floor, landing in a bruised heap and now without a flashlight (although that didn't really matter).
In front of Mulder, a pale, white figure was sitting on a stool, watching a pale, white TV.
"YOU THERE!" Mulder groaned as he stood.
"MEEEEE....?" called the voice, rattling a few chains for extra effect in his right hand.
"Yeah, you.... Who.. who are you..?"
"Knock that off."
The ghost dropped the chains unceremoniously on the floor and pressed the PAUSE button on his remote control. "Whatever."
"Now who are you?" Mulder asked for the second time.
"I'm the former owner of this house," he answered, crossing his legs and leaning against the wall.
"Why do you still haunt the house after your life has passed?"
"Are you kidding? The place would fall apart without me. My worthless Nephew can't do anything right, and if I don't keep it going it falls into the hands of those bastards at that real estate company-"
Mulder raised and eyebrow and shook the bucket off his foot. "That's it?"
"Yes. Now answer me this. Who are you?" the ghost asked.
"A government agent."
"What? Look, I pay my taxes like any LIVING person and-"
"FBI, not IRS."
"Common mistake.... So you just tend the boarding house?"
The ghost nodded. Mulder wished he had a camera or camcorder.
"Question.... could I come back with a few others sometime and interview you?"
The ghost nodded. "Sure. Go for it."
"GREAT!" Mulder laughed, knowing the Paranormal would soon be explained. "We'll be back Thursday, around Noon ok?!"
"Sure thing. I'll set two extra places at the table," the ghost droned, turning back to his movie.
"What are you watching?"
The ghost grinned. "A porno flick." ] "Oh... I never watched those. They aren't moral."
"Oh, really? You should watch one. I guarantee you'd like them."
"COME ON!" the ghost yelled, jumping off the stool and taking out a cassette. He handed it to Mulder and patted the agent on the back. "Just watch ONE... I guarantee you'll be hooked. Really."
Not wanting to argue, Mulder took the tape and put it in his pocket. "See you tomorrow."
Mulder sorted through the large stack of porno flicks. Today was the day they drove back to the Ghost's House, and he wanted to return the ghost's movie. He had been dead-on. These things were great.
There was a knock on the door. He opened it to find Scully, the Bald Guy (oh yeah, Skinner. THAT was his name), and a few scientists waiting for him.
"Ready to go?" asked Scully.
"You bet!" Mulder grinned, hiding the tape behind his back.
"Great...we'll follow in the next car. Lead the way, Mulder!" Director Skinner smiled.
Mulder dropped the tape and turned his back on all of them, making strange sounds. The others watched as Mulder threw up on the rug. Scully patted him on the back.
"Mulder, what's wrong?" she asked.
"Scully...." he cried. ".... I have no idea how to get there."