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From: rick360jg@aol.com (Rick360JG)
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: El Pollo
Date: 30 Nov 1994 20:40:02 -0500
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This is my first attempt at writing X-Files fan fiction. Any comments, put
downs, and suggestions are welcome. Send correspondence to
rick360jg@delphi.com or rick360jg@aol.com. 
This story involves characters from The X-Files, Kids in the Hall, and
Hunter, sort of. Plenty of apologies to Toronto, Ontario.

This story copyright 1994 by W. Y. Chan. All characters used here
copyrighted by their respective owners. Characters not used by permission.
Rating: PG-13 for mild sexual situations and language(Thank God for the
MPAA).


                                                           EL POLLO


Kingsly Mall, Toronto, Dec.10, 1994, 11:59 AM

The Christmas shoppers in front of the Halbertson's Drug Store gaped in
disbelief at the tall, befeathered, yellow-legged woman straddling a
coin-operated child's horsey ride. The horsey was bucking in fast,
rhythmic undulations in time to the Western cowboy music blaring out of
the tiny speaker built into the ride's base. The woman seemed to be lost
in a kind of trance-she was wavering her upper torso around in little
circles, hands tightly gripping the vinyl reins. As the music rose to a
crescendo, the woman suddenly convulsed and let out a long, ragged sigh.
Feathers exploded in a blizzard. "Baaa-gawg!" screamed the pale
complexioned woman. Her cry frightened the curious crowd of onlookers. The
tall woman climbed off the horse and smirked self-satisfactorily at the
crowd of twenty-eight shoppers as she walked away, body jerking
spasmodically. 
"My God, not only does she look like a chicken, she sounds like a
chicken!" said a woman clutching a Macy's bag. A middle-aged man said,
"Jesus, I'm calling security. I'm not about to let my niece here see that
disgusting. . ." 
"Chicken Lady, Uncle Milton," his niece giggled. 
". . .Chicken Lady! Jesus!" the man finished.

J. Edgar Hoover Building, Washington D.C., Dec. 16, 8:01 AM

"Hey Scully, I want you to take a look at this," Agent Mulder said to
Agent Scully as she poured a cup of coffee. Scully walked over to Mulder's
cluttered desk and glanced at the police report Mulder was holding. She
took the report and read it quickly. "Mulder, this is from Toronto. How
did you get this?" 
"A friend of mine in Toronto P.D. faxed it to me. He thought it would
amuse me." 
"What's this about a woman who looks like a chicken? Mulder, some of your
friends. . ." 
"No, it's serious. Apparently, this 'Chicken Lady' has been spotted doing
the wild thing with several coin-operated rides in Toronto. So far, she
has managed to elude capture." 
Scully had to put down her mug before she spilled it when she started to
laugh. "Mulder," Scully strained to keep a serious expression, "this
sounds so ridiculous! Obviously, you have a mentally disturbed woman
running around who dresses like a chicken. She needs therapy and we are
not the ones to give it to her."
"Yes, I know that. But consider this." Mulder handed Scully a smudgy
photocopy. Scully looked at it and said, "This looks like broken eggs on a
horse saddle."
"That's exactly what it is. But it's not your your normal Egg McMuffin
egg. The Toronto police lab techs analyzed the stuff and they found
something peculiar."
"Let me guess, the eggs are Grade AA, fresh from the Andromeda Galaxy
Farms."
"Close but no Morleys. The lab technicians discovered human DNA
intermingled with poultry DNA on the molecular level."
"There has to be a logical explanation for that."
"And that's what we're going to find out."

Jerrold's Bakery, Toronto, 11:57 AM

The Chicken Lady headed straight for the horse. She dug around in her
purse and pulled out a quarter, cooing softly under her breath. "Heh-loo,
little horsey. I'm here. . ." whispered the beak-nosed woman as she
carefully straddled the horse. She dropped the coin into the slot and
gripped the reins with her white glove covered hands. The horse started to
rock back and forth while the William Tell Overture started to play. The
Chicken Lady closed her eyes and screamed, "Yes! Oh yes! High ol' Silver,
take me away!"

Toronto Police Department, 12:10 PM

"Sgt. Rick Hunter, this is my partner, Special Agent Dana Scully,"
introduced Mulder. 
"Pleased to meet you, Sgt. Hunter," said Scully as she shook Hunter's
hand. 
"Likewise. And please, call me Hunter. I heard quite a bit about you,
Agent Scully." 
"Nothing embarrassing, I hope," Scully joked. 
"Quite the opposite. Mulder told me what a great team you both make." 
"Why thank you, Hunter," said Scully as she smiled at Mulder. 
"I want you to meet my own spunky partner. And there she is." The three of
them looked at the woman who just walked into the office. Hunter resumed,
"Special Agents Scully and Mulder, meet Sgt. Dee Dee McCall. She was
transferred here from LA a few months after I was." McCall shook hands
with the two FBI agents.
Getting right down to business, McCall said, "I just got this from Lt.
Millhone. Apparently, there's been another sighting of the 'Chicken Lady'
a few minutes ago," said McCall.
"Where at?" asked Hunter.

Jerrold's Bakery, 12:21 PM

"She just walked away after she exploded," explained the baker as he
pointed at the remains of the Chicken Lady's session, "and god, the awful
racket she made!"
There were a few cops photographing the horse ride and collecting the
feathers and eggy remains. Hunter asked the baker, "What noises did she
make?"
"Well, it sounded like a chicken in heat. I used to be a farmer, you
know."
Mulder was examining the coin box. "I want the coins in here to be brushed
for fingerprints and trace evidence. How many sightings of this Chicken
Lady have there been?"
McCall flipped through her notebook and said, "Seven, including this one.
One for each day for the past six days."
Hunter said, "She was always spotted in the vicinity of children's rides
like this. We don't know why she's doing this, but it's a public nuisance
and a violation of City Code E4379, Section B, Paragraph 4A."
"Which is?" asked Mulder.
"The anti-egging ordinance."
Scully examined the horse's saddle with a large magnifying lens. She
noticed a strange mass in one of the egg shell bits. "I found something.
Take a look at this."
Mulder peered into the lens. "What is it, Scully?" 
Scully let Hunter and McCall look through the lens before she answered.
Then she said, "There appears to be an embryo of some sort in that shell.
We'll need to have this examined in the lab to be sure."

Toronto Police Laboratory, 5:45 PM

Scully was in the lab, eyes over the oculars of the microscope. She
finished dissecting the evidence and made wrote notes into the lab report.
Hunter laid a map of Toronto on his desk. "The Chicken Lady was spotted
here, here, and here." As Hunter noted the locations, McCall marked the
corresponding areas on the map with a green marker. "As you can see, the
marks are all adjacent to commercial districts. What we can't figure out
is where and when the Chicken lady will strike next," said Hunter.
Mulder thought over the evidence so far, looking for a pattern. "The times
of the incidents are all around 12 noon, correct?"
"Correct," answered McCall.
"And the rides were all mechanical horses, correct?"
"Correct."
"Did you happen to note who manufactured the horseys?"
"Well, no. We didn't think about that."
"Then that's what we're going to do. We'll start finding the manufacturers
of the horses and maybe then clear up the picture of El Pollo's strikes."
"El Pollo?" asked Hunter.
"Well, that sounded better than 'The Chicken Lady'," answered Mulder.
Scully dropped the needle probe she was holding. "I think I know what the
Chicken Lady, sorry Mulder, 'El Pollo' is trying to do. I examined this
specimen, read the reports for the previous examinations and did a bit
more dissecting on my own. . ."
"What are you trying to say?" asked Mulder, although he had a hunch of
what was going on.
"Mulder, El Pollo is trying to reproduce."

Sav-Rite Market, Dec. 17, 11:48 AM

Stakeouts were never easy. Mulder was chewing a cheekful of sunflower
seeds, spitting the shells into an unfolded handkerchief on his lap,
sometimes missing, sometimes hitting the spot. Scully was looking at a red
and brown painted horse near the Sav-Rite's entrance with a pair of
binoculars. "Mulder, at that rate, you're going to be through the whole
bag before 12 noon."
"Not to worry, the store's right across the street. I can keep myself
preoccupied the whole day."
"Preoccupation's your middle name."

Jackson's Brownie Shoppe, 11:56 AM

The red Dodge Daytona was parked diagonally across the street from the
brownie store. Hunter reread the police reports concerning the Chicken
Lady. "You know what is unusual about this?" asked McCall. 
"What?"
"The fact that the Chicken Lady only strikes Brandtly and Sons' horse
rides. Given that there are at least four different manufacturers' horse
rides in this city, I am curious to know what makes the Brandtly horses so
special."
"Well, the Brandtly horses are handcarved. Perhaps El Pollo appreciates
quality," mocked Hunter in a fake Queen's English accent.
The police radio suddenly crackled to life. Hunter picked up the handset
and said, "Hunter and McCall here, over."
The radio answered back, "This is Scully. We've spotted the Chicken Lady.
Mulder's on her, er, tail right now, over."
"We're on our way, over"

Sav-Rite Market, 11:59 AM

The Chicken Lady was lost in a trance of ecstasy aboard the rocking horse.
Mulder had never seen anything like her before and he crept closer. The
Chicken Lady's cries suddenly reached a crescendo and KABOOM! Feathers
flew out in a seven foot radius. The Chicken Lady shuddered and cooed,
"Nice hor-hor-horsey. Yesss. . ."
Suddenly, she turned around, looking right at Mulder, who was trying to
hide behind a potted tree. She sniffed the air. "Se-se-seeds! And, and,
and, a man!" 

"Mulder, look out!" screamed Scully. She ran to the pair struggling on the
sidewalk. 
The Chicken Lady had somehow pecked Mulder's gun away. "Baa-gawg! A man!
Lovely man, aug, aug, aug. . ." said the wild-eyed lady as she straddled
Mulder's back. 
Scully pulled out her Sig Sauer P230 and pointed it at the Chicken Lady.
She called out, "This is the FBI! Get off of him right now!" Scully
realized only a split second later that she had been hit in the back of
her head as she started to black out onto the sidewalk. 
"OK, Chicken Lady, we gotta move!" commanded the lady's friend, a
beady-eyed woman with an Abraham Lincoln beard. 
"But, but, but, it's a man. A seedy man," protested the Chicken Lady.
"Oh no, their friends are coming!" said the Bearded Woman as she saw a
fast moving Dodge with a red flasher stuck on its roof round the street
corner. She pulled the Chicken Lady off of Mulder and they both ran down
the street.

The Dodge stopped and its occupants got out of the car, pistols brandished
in their hands. Mulder told them, "They're getting away! They ran that
way." 
"They?"
"There were two of them."
 "You stay and watch over them and I'll chase the perps," McCall said to
Hunter. 
"No, I'll go after them."
"Hey, I got the keys!" McCall said and she bolted back into the car.

The whole world seemed to be pressing her temples. Scully opened her eyes
and looked right into Rick Hunter's eyes. He said, "Are you all right?
Someone else must've knocked you out."
"I'll be all right. How is Mulder?"
"He a bit shaken and suffered a sprained wrist, but he'll live."
The three of them piled into the rented Ford Taurus. Mulder picked up the
radio's handset and said, "Sgt. McCall, you there? Over." No one answered
back. Hunter asked, "Where did they go?"
Mulder answered, "Down this way," as Hunter drove way over the speed
limit.

Following the pair was easy, as there was a trail of white feathers strewn
all over the path. McCall carefully picked her way through the garbage
piled on the alley. The feather trail ended at the base of a wooden door.
She put her ear to the door to try to listen for any noises. When she
heard none, she kicked the door open. 
McCall swung her pistol in front of her as her eyes adjusted to the dim
lighting inside. She saw a stairwell on her left and crept down it,
hunched down low in case the Chicken Lady was armed.

Hunter scanned the scene as he drove. "There's the car!" he said
excitedly. The trio got out of the Taurus and headed towards the Daytona.
"Where did she go?" asked Scully. 
Mulder surveyed the area. "I think we should make like Hansel and Gretel
and follow this trail of feathers."

McCall saw a couple of feathers near a doorway. She poked her head into
the doorway and could not believe the sight she saw.

"She's in there," Hunter said, "and I have a feeling she's in trouble."
Mulder and Scully both brandished a pair of high-power flashlights. They
shined them all over the decrepit building's interior. 
Mulder said, "There's a stairway in there." One by one, the group went
down the stairs. Sounds could be heard coming from a doorway. Scully
glanced at Hunter, who had his pistol ready. She held up a bent index
finger, signaling readiness, while mouthing the numbers, "one, two, three.
. ." and they both burst through the doorway, pistols held up in front of
them. 

"Hunter, Scully. Everything's all right. No need for the NRA calling
cards," said McCall, who was holding a nest with a baby chick snuggled in
it.
"What is all of this?" asked Hunter.
"Apparently, this is an urban chicken coop. I've looked. There's no sign
of the perps anywhere, but isn't this just about the cutest thing you ever
saw?" said McCall.
Scully examined around the room. The room was lined with with shelves.
Shelves lined with shredded newspaper, cardboard, and hay. The materials
were formed into quasi-nests, and some of them held eggs in various hues
of white and cream. "McCall, is that the only living thing you found in
here?" asked Scully.
"Yes. It was sort of cheeping when I came in here. I guess it was hungry,"
answered McCall.
"Something's not right. McCall, may I see examine that bird?" asked
Mulder.
McCall handed the baby chicken to Mulder. He picked up the bird with his
left hand and looked at its feet. "I knew it. Somehow, she succeeded.
Everyone, meet El Pollo's newest heir."
"What?" asked McCall.
Mulder replied, "Look at its feet. You can slip a pair of Keds on those in
a couple of years." He passed the hatchling to the others.
"Well, that's the damnedest thing I ever saw," commented Hunter.
"Size thirteens, perhaps?" quipped Scully.

Toronto Police Department, Dec. 22, 8:30 PM

Hunter finished typing up a letter to Mulder and Scully: "After these five
days of staking out the Chicken Lady's lair and turning up nothing, we've
come to the conclusion that she's gone for good. The evidence we found,
including the baby chicken with the humanoid feet, have been turned over
to the University of Toronto for further study.  Sgt. Dee Dee McCall and I
would like to thank you two for your assistance and am sincerely sorry for
the injuries and inconveniences you both suffered. . ."
"Do you really think El Pollo's gone?" asked McCall as she completed some
paperwork.
"Well, if she turns up, we'll offer her a nice bowl of earthworm chili,"
joked Hunter.

Jefferson Memorial, Washington D.C.

The snow drifted lazily to the ground. Mulder watched the snowflakes land
on his overcoat as he thought of a certain night twenty-one years ago. He
sensed that he was being watched. He looked over his shoulder and only saw
little kids playing, adults talking. Nobody he knew.

"Are you sure that's him?" asked the Bearded Woman.
"Oh yesss," cackled the Chicken Lady softly, "that's man. So se-se-seedy.
Veery nice man."



