David Duchovny, Why Don't You Love Me?

In honor of the fact that we share an alma mater with his highness, the great David "Fox(y) Mulder" Duchovny and that alma mater's reveling in a weekend of celebrations dedicated to the great god Bacchus (a.k.a "Reunions"), may or may not have been responsible for the extreme belatedness of this post (please forgive us!) we decided this would be a good weekend to have David Duchovny step into our thought experiment and potentially tear down the flag.

As the seminal (no pun intended) celebrity to claim sex addiction as the reason for the near-breakup of his marriage and to enter rehab for it waaay back in 2008, David Duchovny is quite the trailblazer. Does this pioneer spirit translate into an ability to tear down the flag? You'll just have to wait and see...

Cailey: First things first (sorry for the poor quality!)

Liz: SERIOUSLY. David Duchovny WHY don't you love me? Is it too much to ask??

Cailey: While I don't want to undervalue the impact rehab can have, I sort of think/hope he is still a, um, addict. 

Liz: Bottom line: David, call us. Now.

Cailey: Please. Reunions...or not reunions...we're here! We'll help you finish that long-languishing PhD thesis...

Liz: ...and who knows what else! We'll all enjoy getting back to academia...

Cailey: So David comes home from a long day of playing against type in Californication and lo! what is that upon his home?

Cailey: An abomination worse than Season 9 of The X-Files!

Liz: As a half-Jew, David is fully, deeply aware of the horror inherent to this atrocious symbol.

Cailey: He knows what he must do.

Liz: He tears it down! Swiftly he jumps, grabs a handful of red fabric and yanks, HARD.

Cailey: It is bold and triumphant. He can't remember the last time he felt so...right. So assured that he did indeed have the moral high ground. And also weirdly turned on...that is a very familiar feeling in his pants...

Liz: Now he must destroy this emblem of evil in an equally triumphant way. But how?...

Cailey: As he's standing there, unsure of what to do with this filth sullying his hot hot hands, Téa comes home with the kids.

Liz: "David WHAT have you done?!" she exclaims. "What is this? Why are you holding a Nazi flag?!"

Cailey: The kids start weeping.

Liz: "No no, honey let me explain!" he pleads.

Cailey: But visions of Jesse James and his SS-uniformed mistresses have already flashed through Téa's head.

Liz: "That's it! I'm calling The Meadows! They can deal with your pervy ass"

Cailey: David is horrified. He can't face the idea of going back to sex addiction rehab. It's full of pedophiles and horse fuckers. And he's just a guy who likes to put his P in a lot of Vs. Is that really so bad? Really? Really?

Liz: He takes off running, flag still clasped in hand. 

Cailey: And belatedly realizes that his fair (smoggy) city is crawling with paparazzi.

Liz: He stuffs the flag into the front of his tight designer pants.

Cailey: And is photographed with an unsightly bulge and the headline "No Sex? Stuff Your Face Instead! David's Diet Disaster!"

Liz: But where is he running to? His agency? His Californication co-stars?

Cailey: Aw, hell no! He's going to the one person he knows who can solve all problems. 

Liz & Cailey: GILLIAN! 

Cailey: That's right! The one and only Gillian Anderson, fresh off a Virgin Atlantic flight from London where she was filming YET ANOTHER Dickens BBC miniseries. 

Liz: To fill the void left by the end of The X-Files, David turned to orgies and Gillian turned to the British Broadcasting Company. 

Cailey: So he runs through LAX with a Nazi flag in his pants. 

Liz: Spots his personal problem solver and yells: "Gillian! Gillian! Gillian!" 

Cailey: She doesn't seem to hear him....

Liz: So he screams: "DANA SCULLY!!!!!"

Cailey: That does it. 

Liz: She turns around.

Cailey: Without preamble, he pulls out the flag. Her eyes pop.

Liz: "DAVID! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!" 

Cailey: "No, wait! Let me explain!" 

Liz: Our poor David. So misunderstood. 

Cailey: He asks her how to dispose of the flag. And, of course, she has a brilliant idea. 

Liz: They hop in the back of her chauffeur driven car. 

Cailey: And Gillian instructs the driver to take them to West Coast Choppers. 

Liz: What? You mean Jesse James' shop?!

Cailey: Bear with me...this is Gillian's epic plan of flag destruction.

Liz: I hope Gillian knows what she's doing! 

Cailey: She ALWAYS does. They pull up in front of the (closed) West Coast Choppers. Gillian takes the flag, folds it in half, and makes a pouch out of it. From inside her chic Louis Vuitton carry-on luggage she extracts fertilizer...

Liz: Uh-oh...

Cailey: A small bottle of petrol...

Liz: Oh, I see where this is going...

Cailey: Gunpowder, and a large butane lighter.

Liz: And HOW did she get all that past airport security? 

Cailey: She's a CELEBRITY! She does what she wants now! 

Liz: Thank the X-Files for that, too...I hope she wasn't thinking of blowing up a plane...I don't like the idea of Dana Scully: Unlikely Terrorist. Not my cup o' tea (but the picture below sure is!)

Cailey: Not at all. Gillian carries small amounts of dangerous explosives with her for a) the thrill...the delightful frisson of joy she feels when breaking the law and b) just in case she might need them. 

Liz: And she was right to do so, because clearly David needs them now! She's like a Boy Scout: Always Be Prepared. 

Cailey: She fashions a small bomb, lights it, throws it out the tinted car window with impressive aim, and blows up Jesse James' chopper spot. 

Liz: "That'll teach him" she says, "And you, sir. You should watch where you stick that wiener of yours, lest you wind up like that one" She gestures at the burning wreckage, referring to the disgraced and vile Mr. James. 

Cailey: David puts his head in his hands, his lush lower lip trembling slightly.

Liz: "I just love women!" he sobs "Not Nazis, women! Women! Is that so bad!?"

Cailey: Gillian lays a hand on him affectionately. 

Liz:"Not as bad as when you left me for a year and I had to make a pathetic attempt at having sexual tension with the T2 terminator," she says gently but firmly, a trace of the British still audible in her accent.

Cailey: David looks at her, suddenly smoldering: "No one has sexual tension the way we did, Gillian!" 

Liz: They gaze deeply into each others eyes, the sensual strain palpable...

Cailey: Wait...how did we end up in 'shipper territory?

Liz: Well, we do have the X-Files to thank for origin of fan-fic...

Cailey: True. It does seem appropriate.

Liz: So they lean towards each other, West Coast Choppers blazing in the background, the heat of the fire wafting around them, gently ruffling Dana's - I mean Gillian's - hair...

Cailey: And as their lips are almost touching...

Liz: The cell phone rings!

Cailey: Goddammit WHEN are they going to kiss?! There's only so much I can take!

Liz: Cailey, you know the secret to a successful story is unconsummated passion. 

Cailey: Grrrrrrr arghhhhh it's so frustrating!

Liz: Calm yourself! So the cell phone rings and David answers: "Mulder."

Cailey: Good thing it's Chris Carter. Against all odds (ie: this), he wants to make a third X-Files movie that is not a stand-alone. It's going to be a full-on continuation/satisfactory conclusion of the mythology.

Liz: Oh joy!! 

Cailey: Gillian and David agree to star, of course. And then Gillian, her good sense getting the better of her ovaries, directs the driver to take them back to David's (now flag-free) home. 

Liz: Where she explains everything to Téa, and leaves a David standing there like a naughty child, abashed but forgiven...

Cailey: ...as she drives off into the sunset. 

Liz: Another Duchovny Disaster averted!

Cailey: All in a day's work!