SKINNER STORMS THE SOL

Mulder was pouty and peeved, as he'd never been abducted.
He had a thought, formed a plan, though Scully was reluctant.
"LGMs are shy," he mused, "They're scared of being candid.
We'll stow away on the shuttle! Find them single-handed!"
Fortune was with them, happily, prospects ended well.
As the first truly unearthly ship they found was the SOL.
Squirming through a porthole, secreting themselves from view
They began their observations, unknown to the daffy crew.
One slight problem - in their rush to pioneer and gloat
They forgot to file a case log, or leave the boss a note.
Boss Walter Skinner, when informed, stifled volcanic screams.
Vowed to find their butts, reached orbit under his very own steam.

Meanwhile, Mike and the 'bots, on a riffing search,
Were deafened by tearing metal, as the SOL gave a sickly lurch.
The whole ship was suddenly unstable, pitched, yawed, and reeling,
As 'bots and Mike briskly bounced off theater seats and ceiling.
A horrid unknown force was unleashed at them, they sensed,
When a voice like perdition boomed, "Give me back my agents!!"
"The hell?" blurted Servo, as Mike looked about with wonder,
When portholes shattered, imploded, pummeled by ragged thunder.
Crow peeked out timidly, expected some galactic jihad.
They were in the throes of attack! Prisoners of a wrathful god!
The inhabitants were helpless, addled, in terror - for a start,
As their nameless nemesis proceeded to take the ship apart.

"We're space chow!" screams Crow, seeing his future life as silage,
Gazed at the slab physique, hardly worse for the mileage.
"Well, duh!" yelled Servo, disguised as a hydrant, a last resort.
"I don't think we're gonna get beamed by Galactic Tech Support!"
Mike, (looking for weapons, he said), took a dive into hydroponics
After one awesome glance at the giant, moving like tectonics.
Gypsy was aghast, held rapt by this icon of testosterone,
But fled delicately at his defiance, stamped and steamed to the bone.
The nanites, brave souls, swarmed him from foot to crown
Engulfed him in a stinging cloud, hoping to bring him down.
With an uncaged sonic roar, Skinner rendered them liquified.
"Swell," wept Servo, "*Now* he's mad!" Skinner was fortified.

Skinner on the move, sharklike, was a frightening sight,
An implacable rolling ocean wave, relentless in his might.
Undisuaded by shrieks of this odd robotic battalion,
He personified manly bravado, 'cuz he was hung like a -
"Wait!" yelped Servo, "I got an idea!" urging his pals to rally,
Distracted the foe with whirling buzzes, lured him to the galley.
Crow laid down floods of pork gravy, almonds (paste and nuts),
Pig sleds, Prince, wicker, thongs, Cheetos, and trucker butts.
Hoping to trap the hulk in a snare of gooey design,
Issuing a victory cry, "Put *that* in a place that don't shine!"
Mike saw his chance, armed himself with strudel and booger gun,
PVC pipe, bell bottoms, Peter Graves, and stock footage, for fun.

"We're rockin' now!" crowed Crow, seeing Skinner, silent, in the mess.
Sadly he had no clue that the AD thrived under duress.
With a sweeping bulging arm, flexing his iron-strap valorous abs
Taunted with a sardonic grin, said, "You think *this* is bad?!"
With a disdainful grunt, chest expanding without cease,
A repository of courage and honor, overlaid with silken fleece.
Huge perfect pecs glistening, gathered his foes in a frantic clump,
Compressed the mass by half, pistol whipped it, and on to the dump.
"Doesn't sugar coat it much," gagged Crow, like he swallowed bricks.
Mike, death now postponed, wondered if Skinner got the chicks.
The AD drew back an amber leg, to punt them with a clatter,
But, luckily, he was diverted by a distant, familiar chatter.

As the conqueror strode away, Mike said, "Ya know, it behooves me
To say I'd rather be eternally pummeled watching an Agar movie."
Crow, formerly 'ground zero', flapped like a boneless trout,
Summoned energy to shriek, "What the hot hell was *that* about?!"
Meanwhile, Skinner walked to the hold, readied a harangue,
As Scully and Mulder checked the DNA sequence of stale meringue.
One look at his virulent rage rendered them faint and mute.
Mulder whined, but Scully, wiser, screamed quickly, "Don't shoot!"
Skinner didn't even slow, snatched them, put them both in shock,
Shoved their asses in an escape pod and kicked it out the lock.
Mission accomplished, triumphant, he unclenched his vise-grip fists,
Grabbed the nearest monster tool, he yelled, "Insubordinate *this*!"

Later, back at the office, he contemplated this latest chiller.
He'd faced down whole armies of maniacal, vicious killers
Without backup or SWAT team, yet his resolve remained pure and whole.
But his nightmares now held jumpsuited dudes, and two metallic trolls.

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