'I wonder,' said Mrs Varmighan, rolling her head on the pillow, 'is there really life on other worlds?'
EE let out a sigh. 'I swear there's life in that slush pile. It seems to follow me everywhere. Especially when I go to the bathroom.'
'Maybe you should call Mulder and Sculley.'
'I did. And wouldya believe it? They've plagiarised the text of my sternest rejection.'
EE narrowed his eyes and directed a fine beam of laser light between Mr's V's thighs, modulating its searing pulses with subtle Stan Laurel-like flexions of his ears.
'Be nice if there was life on Venus,' purred Mrs V.
'As long as none of the critters think they can write.'
Mrs V ruffled her hair and batted her eyelids. 'Write? Hell, no. They'd be too busy making sweet sweet luuuurve...'
'Mebbe,' replied EE, distracted. 'Now roll over so I can do your butt.'
Mrs V duly obliged, wiggling her rump like two unbaked loaves of bread. 'I hear there's a new Italian restaurant opened up round the corner. Gotta be closer than Venus...'
EE peered through the wisps of black smoke trailing from between his subordinate's co-ordinates. 'Hrmmmph.'
For a further ten minutes, EE trained his finest laser bursts on the unruly tangle of follicles protruding from Mrs V’s otherwise prim and proper features.
'There,' he said, finally. ‘The full Rio, front and back.'
Mrs V drew her silky EE bathrobe tight around her. 'Thanks,' she said. ‘When I get back from my kickboxing workout, I’ll polish those flamethrowers like I promised.’
As Mrs V turned to head out of the door, EE clicked his fingers.
'Hey! That’s a hundred bucks. Call it ninety-nine for the no-sack discount.’