So, there is a minute (as in infinitesimal) possiblity that my 'fro just might make it on The X-Files. There was a call for extras (unpaid - let's get that straight) on Friday and Monday to cheer at a wrestling match and pretend to be in a mass brawl - punching, kicking, pulling hair, strangling, hurling popcorn... The episode is called "Fight Club," and it was written by Chris Carter.

I'd done this kind of scene in high school, actually; a TV show in Chicago needed people to cheer on a basketball game. Not enough people showed, so we got moved around so they could shoot from different angles and make it look like a full stadium. Much like what happened on XF, actually.

My bag was searched for a camera, my hand got stamped with "X-Files." I was sent in with a little packet which contained a flier thanking me for being there and telling me to shut up when told to, a pack of peanuts and a Tootsie Roll. Whoo, don't hurt yourself there, big spenders. I sat in the section of DD/FM brigaders who'd flown out for the "Return to Me" premiere. Since we didn't get paid, we got fed pizza by the truck-full. I was warned to bring a bottle of water because it was sweltering and they only had dehydrating drinks like Coke on hand. I'd been promised cotton candy as well, but there was none to be found on Monday and I feel supremely jipped.

I only vaguely know what the deal is with our fighting: apparently in the episode, when one doppelganger sees another, they're overcome with the urge to fight. Sounds easy, but after take after take in the heat, it was getting rather tiring. I tried to avoid getting filmed, but one of the times that they'd shifted us around, I ended up in front row. So you might just see for a millisecond my (sorta) beating the crap out of a fellow Phile.

I couldn't go Friday (just as well - neither Gillian nor David were there), but I arrived Monday after work. As luck would have it, I missed Gillian by 5 minutes because I was futzing around looking for parking. Too bad - she'd signed autographs and it would have been nice to tell her that I loved "all things." Ah, well. The advantage of being in front row, however, is that I had a lovely view of the 6'+ David Duchovny wearing a black suit and untucked shirt (no, he didn't say "hi" this time). He filmed a scene in which he hoists Kathy Griffith over his shoulder and carries her off, kicking and screaming. I'd arrived pretty much just in time, because he left not long afterwards. He thanked us for coming, but he didn't stay to sign autographs - and I've heard that, thanks to one overzealous DD fanatic, that he no longer poses for pictures with fans on set anyway. :-P

They gave away raffle prizes during the lulls. I didn't win, but some friends did - probably one of them won with the ticket I'd given her after I'd left! They also held a trivia contest (the questions for which were written Philes dubbed The Trivia Bitches, since the emcee knew bupkus about XF), and had a talent contest for XF t-shirts. I didn't try - the LA smog's done such a number on my voice, I don't dare sing publically anymore, certainly not without warming up. I should have, though, considering some idiot got a t-shirt just for yelling "WAAAAAZZZZUPPPP?" into the mike. Whoo boy, that's talent. The one we agreed was the best, however, is the girl who did an impression of Scully's rant in "Bad Blood" ("I do it all for you, Mulder!")... as performed by Rosie Perez. I was crying with laughter. Another woman got a t-shirt because she'd admitted that she's named her children Fox William and Dana Katherine. Why are people like this allowed to roam freely?

I hung around another half hour after David left, wishing it were Mulder and Krycek wrastlin' before me, and watching some teenagers crowd around David and Gillian's doubles for pictures and autographs (sometimes you gotta live vicariously). Meanwhile, I busied myself with begging every PA and security guard for a call sheet - you know from reading about "Kiss Tomorrow Goodbye" how much I love those things. One teenager kept begging for a t-shirt, and a call sheet became her consolation prize. She didn't even know what she had. "What'd you win, Debbie?" "Some list... some special list... hey, David's name is on it! Ohmigawd I gotta call my Mom!"

My own initial attempts were less succesful - I was repeatedly told that crew members weren't really allowed to hand out call sheets. I prevailed, however. As I was leaving, I bumped into a crew member and chatted a bit. I sheepishly aked if she still had her call sheet from that day since she didn't need it anymore. The crew member had trashed Monday's copy, but wanted to give the call sheet for the next day! "Oh, no, no, no, no!" I protest. "Oh, sure - lemme see what time I have to be here... okay, here ya go." I almost genuflected in a fit of gratitude.

What a score! My one and only X-Files call sheet! Oh, boy, oh, boy, oh, boy - gotta run now to Aaron Brothers to buy a special frame for this one! :-D