Sometime in the not-so-distant future....
"Thsomeone'sth been usthing my toothbrusth again!"
Absently scratching his overflowing gut, Mulder looked away from the
ancient rerun of National Geographic. It didn't get much better
than humping rhinos. "If you'd put your teeth in, you old fart,
maybe you'd have reason to use it yourself."
"Thsuck my dick, Mulder," Krycek muttered, slowly staggering back to
the bathroom.
"If you could get it up without medical assistance, maybe I would."
"Don't make me get my cane and thwap you."
"Promise?" Mulder's laughter suddenly cut short. "Son of a—-damn
it, you made me crap my pants again."
Wheezing, Krycek collapsed against the doorway. He finished hacking
before popping his dentures in his mouth. "Now that's what I call
beating the shit outta someone."
"You didn't even touch me." Struggling to pull himself off the
couch, he made a bowlegged dash towards the bathroom.
"And I don't plan on touching you anytime soon, you old prune.
You're lucky I remembered to buy your Depends."
Hurrying past a counter piled with hemorrhoid creme, Alka Seltzers,
tweezers, prescription bottles, and K-Y jelly, Mulder yanked down
his elastic-waist slacks and sat promptly on the toilet...damned
near falling in the water.
"How many times do I have to tell you to put the fucking lid down?"
The look Krycek gave him spoke volumes...you couldn't tell an
Alzheimer's sufferer anything and expect him to remember. Waving
his hand in front of his face, Krycek picked up the dangling pen
next to the Post-It notes on the wall and added Beano to the grocery
list.
"Don't forget to empty the diaper pail this week," he grumbled,
heading down the hall.
"You're just jealous, 'cause I still have all my hair."
"On your back."
"This attitude isn't going to get you anywhere tonight, pretty boy."
"If you start snoring again before you get your clothes off, I don't
give a damn."
"You know why those bastards don't give you hits anymore? Because
it takes you an hour to pull the trigger. And Viagra doesn't even
help in that area."
"Ah, bite me, Fogey...Ooof—"
Before he'd even stepped two feet into the bedroom, he was hit from
behind and propelled towards the mattress by Mulder's still
formidable body. "But I still love you, Geezer."
"You stink."
His response was a kiss on his stubbly cheek. "I grabbed your
pills...wanna fuck me like a wild animal?"
"Mulder—"
"Yeah?"
"I think I just broke my hip."
End.
Grumpy Old Men
by Isahunter
Arlington, Virginia
