The characters, plotlines, quotes, etc. included here are owned by
Chris Carter and 1013 Productions, all rights reserved. The following
transcript is in no way a substitute for the show "The X-Files" and is
merely meant as a homage. This transcript is not authorized or
endorsed by Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, or Fox Entertainment. It
was painstakingly typed out by Vic and made
available for your downloading enjoyment by moi, Tiny Dancer
from my website, Tiny Dancer's X-Files
Episode Guide .
Enjoy.
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HUMBUG (2X20) The Truth is Out There
<-GIBSONTON, FLORIDA->
(Two kids splash each other in the pool, laughing.)
YOUNGER GLAZEBROOK SON: Stop!
(They continue play-attacking as someone strange watches them from
the trees. Its green eyes staring at them, he breathes heavily and makes
his way through the trees. Its skin looks scaly. The boys do not
notice it as it walks out towards the lawn quietly. The older one
hears it and looks in the general direction. The younger one does the
same, then splashes the older brother. This incites the older brother
to splash back, and they continue playing. The strange being swims
into the pool and slowly approaches them underwater. He jumps out,
screaming. The boys scream back. The younger one splashes the man
lightly as he picks the boy up playfully.)
Oh, Dad, cut it out.
OLDER GLAZEBROOK SON: Beautiful, Dad.
JERALD GLAZEBROOK: Quit picking on your brother.
Remember he loves you!
YOUNGER GLAZEBROOK SON: No, I don't!
OLDER GLAZEBROOK SON: We're glad you're back home, Dad.
JERALD GLAZEBROOK: Ah, not as glad as I am.
OLDER GLAZEBROOK SON: Did you see a lot of weird stuff this year?
JERALD GLAZEBROOK: Yup, it was the weirdest show ever.
But right now, your mother thinks you guys are getting ready for bed
and if she comes out here and finds you guys still in the pool,
she's going to kill me. So come on, out of the pool.
(He puts his youngest son down. The boys moan and whine.
In the forest, something else is watching them.)
YOUNGER GLAZEBROOK SON: Awww...
OLDER GLAZEBROOK SON: Awwww, Dad...
JERALD GLAZEBROOK: Quit your whining. Come on or no bedtime
story. Out you go, that's it.
(The thing in the trees is more of a monster than the
Alligator-Skinned Man, weezing as it breathes. It winces constantly
and it's face is bloodied naturally. The boys start back to the house.)
OLDER GLAZEBROOK SON: Come on, Dad, there's no school
tomorrow...
(Jerald floats on his back a little, shooting water up into the air
with his mouth. The thing watches and makes it's way into the pool.
It approaches Jerald and he stands, looking at it.)
JERALD GLAZEBROOK: What the hell?
(It screeches and bites into Jerald's side. It repeatedly does so as
Glazebrook screams with each bite. It rips through the skin and Jerald
holds himself up on the ladder as blood pours out into the pool. It
screams and snarls in victory.)
<-X-FILES OFFICE; FBI HEADQUARTERS; WASHINGTON, D.C.->
(Mulder hands Scully a picture of Glazebrook's face.)
SCULLY: What happened to him?
MULDER: Nothing you can ascertain from that photograph. The victim
suffered from ichthyosis, a congenital skin disease characterized by
the shedding of the epidermis in the form of scales.
(He hands her another picture of a large wound in the side of
Glazebrook.)
This shows the entry wound of the undetermined weapon. There were
no other injuries inflicted upon the body, no internal organs removed
and/or cannibalized, and there's no signs of sexual molestation either.
(He stands.)
That's forty-eight attacks over the last twenty-eight years. Occurring
in every state in the continental U.S. almost, the first in Oregon and
the last five in Florida.
(He shows pictures of various people with the same wounds.)
The victims range from all different age groups, races, both male and
female. The mutilations appear so motiveless that one would suspect
some form of ritual yet they adhere to no known cult. A lone serial
killer would have been expected to escalate the level of violence of
his attacks over such an extended period of time. So what do you
think, Scully? What are your initial thoughts?
(Scully looks at the picture of Glazebrook.)
SCULLY: Imagine going through your whole life looking like this.
<-GIBSONTON, FLORIDA->
(There is a picture of Glazebrook on his coffin. There are flowers all
around and the mourners sit off to the side. The priest is at the
podium.)
PRIEST: "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He maketh me to
lie down in green pastures, he leadeth me beside the still waters. He
restoreth my soul. He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his
name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of
death..."
(Scully and Mulder walk over. Sheriff Hamilton nods to them from
across the way.)
"I will fear no evil for thou art with me. Thy rod and thy staff, they
comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of my
enemies."
(Mulder walks past Scully in the row of seats and they sit down.)
"Thou anointest my head with oil, my cup runneth over. Surely,
goodness and mercy shall follow me..."
(He turns the page with his foot, having no arms.)
"...all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord
forever." We are gathered here today to mourn the passing of Jerald
Glazebrook.
(In the front row of seats, Glazebrook's wife rubs the back of her
eldest son in comfort. She has a thick beard. Her younger son is
seated next to the other son. Scully watches them.)
Beloved husband, father, friend and entertainer.
(Scully looks at a man in the front row as he takes out a flask and
drinks from it. There is a smaller person attached to him, who has his
head in the bigger man's side and is also dressed in a suit.)
We mourn not only the passing who overcame the obstacles of his
earthly incarnation but also the passing of the love that dwells in
his all too-human heart. We mourn the passing of the admiration and
the respect he instilled in his fellow colleagues.
(Scully looks in back of her at a row of other circus freaks, each
deformed in some way. There is a fortune teller, a teenager and a
little kid, both of whom have the same problem. Scully and the little
boy smile at each other.)
We mourn the passing of the laughter and the enjoyment he brought
each audience who saw him.
(Mulder slowly looks to his right and slowly looks up at the giant
sitting next to him.)
For although Jerry was a world-renowned escape artist, there is one
strongbox from which none of us can escape.
(The coffin starts to shake violently. Sheriff Hamilton tries to hold
it down and looks to some other people.)
HAMILTON: Help...
MAN #1: I got it...
(Other men run up to the coffin and lift it up and away from the grave.
A bump starts moving underneath the covering of the grave.)
WOMAN #1: Move it out of there...
WOMAN #2: Oh my Lord!
(As the congregation moans and gasps, a man breaks through the
covering, growling, carrying a railroad spike and a hammer.)
MAN #2: I don't believe it...
BLOCKHEAD: Having not known the deceased personally, I am in no
position to perform a proper eulogy. I'm sure he was a nice guy, et
cetera, et cetera. But as an admirer of the man's work, I am in a
position to perform an impromptu tribute in his honor. Namely,
ramming this spike into my chest!
(He does so with one quick blow, sparks flying off of the contact
point. Blood coats the front of his sweater. The crowd gasps and
cringes. Even Mulder and Scully flinch. The man, Doctor Blockhead,
staggers around, screaming.)
MAN #3: You crazy, don't you have any respect at all?
BLOCKHEAD: I think I hit my left ventricle!
(Hamilton grabs his arm and Blockhead shoves him off.)
WOMAN #2: This is a funeral!
BLOCKHEAD: Get back, fascist!
(People start jumping at him left and right. In fact, the whole
congregation starts after him.)
MAN #2: For crying out loud!
MAN #4: Get him out of here! Get him out of here!
WOMAN #3: You're awful!
(Mulder and Scully are left all alone, seated where they were.
The rest of the seats are pretty much in disarray. They sit in
silence for a second.)
MULDER: I can't wait for the wake.
<-PHIL'S DINER->
(Mulder, Scully and Hamilton are sitting at a table.)
MULDER: On his vicap form, Jerald Glazebrook's occupation is listed
as artist.
HAMILTON: Jerry was an artist... the best escape artist since Houdini.
He should have been headlining Vegas but his skin condition kept him
on the sideshow circuit.
SCULLY: I guess I didn't realize that sideshows were still in existence.
HAMILTON: There are about two or three of them still around.
MULDER: I got the impression that Glazebrook wasn't the only sideshow
performer residing here.
HAMILTON: The town was founded back in the 20s when some of
Barnum and Bailey's troops started coming down here during the
winter off-season.
SCULLY: You know, this town's history might help explain our case's
history. A sideshow performer would have toured much of the country
over the years. And their isolation from everyday society caused by
their physical deformities could have built up pathological
resentments so intense that murder might be...
HAMILTON: Now, now, hold on a second. Around here, we refer to them
as "very special people." Now, some of them may be different on the
outside but it's what's inside that counts. And on the inside, they're
as normal as anybody.
SCULLY: Until their arrests, many serial killers are considered by
their friends and family to be quite "normal." If you truly regard
these people as normal, then you must also consider the possibility
that they are capable of committing these crimes.
HAMILTON: It's just been my experience that many people have a harder
time accepting these people's deformities than they do themselves.
(Mulder opens up the menu and looks at a picture.)
MULDER: Sheriff, what is this? This design here, it's, uh, copyrighted
by Hepcat Helm.
(He points to a picture of a monkey with a mermaid's tail, then at the
copyright logo.)
Is that a local artist?
(Hamilton chuckles.)
HAMILTON: A bit too local. His workplace is right behind my station house.
MULDER: Do you think that we could meet Hep... cat?
<-HEPCAT HELM'S WORKSHOP->
(A grotesque rubber head sits on a pike as Screamin' Jay Hawkins'
song, "Frenzy", plays loudly. Hepcat Helm is sitting at his desk
painting as Hamilton walks in, followed by the agents.)
HAMILTON: Hepcat! Hepcat!
(Hepcat looks at them, then turns down the music.)
HEPCAT HELM: Who are the rubes?
HAMILTON: These are F.B.I. Agents Scully and Mulder.
This is Hepcat Helm. He operates a carnival funhouse.
HEPCAT HELM: Oh man, how many times have I told you not to
call it that?
(He throws down the handkerchief and goes over to them and looks
at Mulder.)
It's not some rinky-dink carny-ride. People go through it, they don't
have fun. They get the hell scared out of them. It's not a funhouse,
it's a tabernacle of terror.
(Hamilton looks over at Mulder.)
HAMILTON: It's a funhouse.
(Mulder takes out the menu and shows the picture to Hepcat.)
MULDER: Mister Helm, I wanted to ask you about this menu illustration.
I recognized most of the historical portraits you've drawn here, but
what's this here?
(Scully rolls her eyes at the words "historical portraits.")
HEPCAT HELM: It's the Feejee Mermaid.
(He walks back to his desk carrying the menu.)
HAMILTON: Is that what that thing is?
SCULLY: What's the Feejee Mermaid?
HEPCAT HELM: The Feejee Mermaid. It's, it's the Feejee Mermaid!
HAMILTON: It's a bit of, uh... humbug Barnum pulled in the last
century.
HEPCAT HELM: Barnum billed it as a real live mermaid but when people
went in to see it, all they saw was a real dead monkey sewn on the tail
of a fish.
(Mulder walks over to him.)
MULDER: A monkey?
HEPCAT HELM: A mummified monkey.
HAMILTON: It supposedly looked so bad, he had to exhibit it as a
"genuine fake."
HEPCAT HELM: Oh, but see? That's why Barnum was a genius.
You never know where the truth ends and the humbug begins.
He came right out and said, "This Feejee Mermaid thing is just a
bunch of B.S." That just made people want to go and see it even more.
So, I mean... who knows? Maybe for box office reasons, Barnum
hocked it as a hoax... when in reality...
MULDER: The Feejee Mermaid was a reality.
(Hepcat exhales loudly and shrugs. Mulder walks back over to Hamilton.)
Sheriff, we're going to need to find a place to stay tonight.
HAMILTON: There are lodgings right across the way, but,
uh... what's all this about?
(Mulder takes out a picture of a long row of small footprints in the
sand heading towards a rock pile.)
MULDER: These tracks were found at several of the past few crime
scenes. They've defied exact identification but one expert speculated
that they might be simian in nature.
HAMILTON: You don't mean to tell me you think these tracks were made
by the Feejee Mermaid?
SCULLY: Do you recall what Barnum said about suckers?
(She nods slightly towards Mulder.)
<-GULF BREEZE TRAILER COURT->
(The proprietor, Mister Nutt, is a midget. (TD NOTE: Umm, better make
that a "small person", don't wanna step on any toes here, Vic!)
He climbs up a small stepladder and puts it down on the desk in
front of the two agents. Nutt's dog sits on the counter.)
MULDER: Tell me, have you done much circus work in your life?
NUTT: And what makes you think I've ever spectated a circus,
much less been enslaved by one?
MULDER: I know that many of the citizens here are former circus hands
and I just thought that maybe you would have done...
NUTT: You thought that because I am a person of short stature that the
only career I could procure for myself would be one confined to the
so-called "big top." You took one quick look at me and decided that
you could deduce my entire life.
(Mulder shakes his head a little. The dog whimpers as Nutt starts
around to the area in shelf in back of the desk.)
Never would it have occurred to you that a person of my height could
have possibly obtained a degree in hotel management.
(He holds up his degree.)
MULDER: I'm sorry, I meant no offense.
(Nutt walks back up to the desk.)
NUTT: Well, then why should I take offense? Just because it's human
nature to make instantaneous judgments of others based solely upon
their physical appearances? Why, I've done the same thing to you, for
example. I've taken in your all-American features, your dour demeanor,
your unimaginative necktie design...
(Mulder looks down at his tie.)
...and concluded that you work for the government. An F.B.I. agent.
(Mulder looks at Scully, who arches her eyebrows in surprise.)
But do you see the tragedy here? I have mistakenly reduced you to a
stereotype. A caricature. Instead of regarding you as a specific,
unique individual.
MULDER: But I am an F.B.I. agent.
(He holds up his badge. The dog whimpers some more. Nutt smirks a
little and takes out another paper.)
NUTT: Register here, please.
(He rings the bell. Mulder and Scully are led by their trailers by the
bellhop, a man named Lanny. He is the man with the smaller twin that
has the twin's head inside of his chest at the funeral. He is also
carrying their bags.)
MULDER: Tell me, have you done much circus work in your life?
LANNY: I was on the stage for most of my life. I was a headliner.
SCULLY: Did it not bother you to have other people staring at you?
LANNY: Best work I ever had. All I had to do was stand there.
Occasionally, I'd say...
(He stops and stands tall as if on stage. They watch him.)
"Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like you to meet my brother Leonard."
(He pauses.)
"Excuse him, he's a little shy." Big laughs, I tell you, big laughs.
(They start to walk again.)
MULDER: Why'd you give it up?
LANNY: Mister Nutt, the kindhearted manager here, convinced me
that to make a living by publicly displaying my deformity lacked
dignity... so now I carry other people's luggage.
(They come to a set of trailers.)
I believe these are your trailers. If they are not, then I am wrong.
(Mulder takes the suitcases from him.)
Oh, that's most considerate. Thank you very much.
(They shake hands and Lanny starts off.)
Good night. Sleep tight. Don't let the bedbugs bite.
(He turns back in a worried manner. Walks back hurriedly,
unscrewing his flask.)
No, no! That, that's not what I meant. I, I didn't mean to imply we
had bedbugs. I, I meant to say, "Don't let... don't let the..."
MULDER: The Feejee Mermaids bite.
(Lanny tips his flask to him.)
LANNY: Yes, that's right, the Fee, the Feejee Mermaids.
Don't, that's right, that's...
(He takes a sip from his flask and starts off.)
That, that's exactly... the Feejee Mermaids bite...
SCULLY: Mulder, what is this Feejee Mermaid business?
MULDER: Every murder investigation begins with a list of possible
suspects. You should try not to be so exclusive, Scully.
(He hands her her suitcase.)
SCULLY: As long as you try not to let the atmosphere of this town
distort your list all out of proportion.
(They stare at each other.)
<-HEPCAT HELM'S WORKSHOP->
(Hepcat Helm is listening to the same song as before, playing it
extremely loud. He is painting a mask for his funhouse, then he walks
over to a desk under the window and wipes off his hands. He takes an
instrument and goes over to another sculpture, this one made mostly of
glass. Reflected in the glass, in the window behind him, is a small
monster slowly crawling in through the window. Helm stands up and the
monster is gone. He goes to work on another part and sees the small
monster crawling towards him in another reflection, looking blurred
and distorted. He turns around and looks at it.)
HEPCAT HELM: What the hell?
(It pounces, its grotesque face flying at it. Blood splatters over
the menu as it pries it's jaws into his neck. There is a gash in his
head.)
<-GULF BREEZE TRAILER COURT->
(Mulder is going for his morning jog. He stops in the road, trying to
catch his air, and hears some splashing in the lake next to the road.
Looking over, he sees a half-naked man coming out of the water,
wearing only a loincloth. He has a tattoo of a puzzle all over his
body, some of the pieces painted blue, mostly around the head and
shoulder regions. He crouches down and starts eating the fish as
Mulder watches intently. The strange man looks over at Mulder and
throws down the fish, then starts off towards the forest.)
<-SCULLY'S TRAILER->
(The time is 7:15. Scully's eyes flicker open. Birds chirp outside as
she looks out the window. She closes her eyes for a second and looks
back outside, still laying down. A man seemingly falls off her roof.
She sits up and sees that there is actually a men bouncing on a
trampoline outside her window while another two people watch. In the
background, people are performing various stunts. There is a frantic
pounding on the door. She loosely puts on her robe and opens the door.
Lanny stands there, his robe also loosely tied on.)
LANNY: Uh, ma'am... sheriff, he, uh... wants to see you.
(Leonard is exposed out of Lanny's stomach. Scully can't help but
stare at him. Lanny, meanwhile, has his eyes on her cleavage, which is
partly exposed. They both slowly look at each other, then look down at
their objects of interest, then tie their robes up tighter.)
There's been another murder.
<-HEPCAT HELM'S WORKSHOP->
(Hamilton is standing over Helm's body, writing down notes on his pad.
Scully is kneeling over Helm. Mulder is looking at the window. There
is a streak of blood on it.)
WOMAN ON APB WIRE: Unit Thirteen, man down...
MULDER: Hey, Scully, there's some blood on the window here we
should send to the lab.
SCULLY: Why run a test on the victim's blood?
MULDER: No, not this window.
(He walks over to the adjacent window as she stands.)
This window. This seems to be the point of entry and there's a...
smear of blood on the outside of the window.
(He takes off some blood from a streak on the outside of the window
with his finger.)
SCULLY: Why would there be blood before the attack?
HAMILTON: Why didn't the attacker just come through the open door?
For a person to crawl in and out of these windows, they'd have to be a
contortionist... or just plain crazy. Or both.
<-GULF BREEZE TRAILER COURT->
(Doctor Blockhead is suspended over a vat of hot water in a
straitjacket, grunting and groaning. He starts unbuckling the straps
when Mulder and Scully walk over.)
MULDER: While they're performing the autopsy, I want to go down to
the...
(Mulder and Scully watch from a short distance as he frees himself.
He throws off the straitjacket, takes the key and looks at the agents.)
BLOCKHEAD: How many people do you know that can get out of a
straitjacket in under three minutes?
SCULLY: Fortunately, none.
MULDER: We caught your act yesterday at the funeral. That was some
trick with the railroad spike.
(Blockhead unlocks his restraints and jumps down.)
BLOCKHEAD: Doctor Blockhead does not perform "tricks."
(He walks over to a toolbox and opens it up. He takes out a hammer and
a nail. There are a number of skull pins next to the nails. Mulder and
Scully walk over to him.)
Doctor Blockhead performs "astounding acts of body manipulation and
pain endurance."
(He puts the nail in his left nostril and begins tapping it into his
head as Mulder and Scully watch on in horror and awe.)
SCULLY: You must be one of those rare individuals whose...
nerve endings don't register pain.
(He puts the hammer down and pulls out a pair of pliers.)
BLOCKHEAD: You just keep telling yourself that.
MULDER: Have you ever performed this tr, uh, act on anyone else?
BLOCKHEAD: What, are you sick? I tell my audiences that if they're
stupid enough to try this themselves, they'll end up with a slight
lobotomy. I am a professional.
MULDER: Exactly how does one become a professional blockhead?
May I?
(He takes the pliers and starts to pull the nail out from Blockhead's
head.)
BLOCKHEAD: Starting in my homeland of Yemen, I studied with yogis,
fakirs and swamis, learning the ancient arts of body manipulation.
(Scully and Mulder grimace all through Blockhead's speaking as he
slowly pulls out the nail. Mulder looks at the bloody nail.)
But most men know nothing of these arts. For instance, did you know
that through the protective Chinese practice of Tiea Bu Shan, you can
train your testicles to drop into your abdomen?
MULDER: Oh, I'm doing that as we speak.
(The Conundrum pops out of the vat, gasping for air. They all look at
him in shock.)
I saw him this morning down by the river, he was eating a fish.
BLOCKHEAD: He knows between-show snacks will ruin his appetite.
(He rubs the Conundrum's bald head.)
MULDER: I could be mistaken. Maybe it was another bald-headed,
jigsaw-puzzle-tattooed, naked guy I saw.
SCULLY: Is this... man also a body manipulator?
BLOCKHEAD: No. In the classical sense, the Conundrum's a geek.
MULDER: He eats live animals.
BLOCKHEAD: He eats anything... live animals, dead animals, rocks,
light bulbs, corkscrews, battery cables, cranberries...
SCULLY: Human flesh?
BLOCKHEAD: Only the Conundrum can answer that question.
But he doesn't answer questions, he merely... poses them.
(He takes out a jar of crickets.)
When an audience partakes in the Conundrum's human piranha act,
they are left to ask themselves...
(He pours out some crickets onto the Conundrum's head,
who eats them joyously.)
"Why." But... where are my manners?
(He holds out the jar to the agents.)
SCULLY: Thank you.
(She takes a cricket, puts it in her mouth, smiles and walks away.
Mulder looks at her, then at the crickets, and leaves. He catches up
to Scully, and watches her in disbelief. She smiles, reaches behind
Mulder's ear, and "pulls out" the live cricket.)
It's an old sleight of hand my uncle once taught me. He was only an
amateur magician, but he was still better than those two.
MULDER: Well, I'm going over to the lab to see if they can test the
blood on the window against the blood on Doctor Blockhead's nail.
(He holds out his hand, then moves it in a clockwise direction.
When he finishes the circle, he is holding out the nail. He starts off.)
Everybody's uncle is an amateur magician.
<-GIBSONTON MUSEUM OF CURIOSITIES; 3:14 PM->
(Scully walks into the old cabin. The bell rings as the door opens.
There is a sign next to a pot that says "Freaks Free; Others Please
Leave Donation." Scully walks over to it, puts a bill in, and starts
looking around. She looks at a picture of siamese twins. Passing
various strange things in jars, she picks up another picture of the
siamese twins. They are named Chang and Eng. The curator walks out
behind her. His face is disfigured and is reflected in a small mirror.)
CURATOR: Welcome to my museum. May I put to rest any questions
you may have conjured?
SCULLY: I was just reading about the fascinating life of Chang and Eng
and wondering if their death was just as fascinating.
CURATOR: Oh, very much so. On a cold January eve in 1874, Eng
awoke to find his brother had passed away during the course of the night.
A few hours later, Eng himself departed from this world. Now, these facts
themselves may be less than fascinating but imagine... imagine being
Eng and lying there.
(He puts his disfigured hand on her shoulder.)
Knowing that essentially half your body was now dead... that the rest
must inevitably follow... and being able to do about it absolutely
nothing. At the autopsy, it was officially concluded that Chang died
of a cerebral hemorrhage.
SCULLY: And what was the official cause of Eng's death?
CURATOR: Fright.
(He smiles and starts to walk away.)
SCULLY: Do you have any information on blockhead or geek acts?
(They walk into another room.)
CURATOR: This is a historical collection of human curiosities.
Blockheads are skilled performers.
SCULLY: Like magicians?
CURATOR: Like sword swallowers who really do swallow swords.
And geeks are neither skilled nor curiosities. They're merely
unseemly... not even attaining the level of "gaffs."
SCULLY: "Gaffs?"
(The curator takes a picture of two siamese twins who look very
different.)
CURATOR: Observe closely the dissimilarity of the facial features.
Conjoined twins are always identical. These twins are phonies...
gaffs.
SCULLY: Sort of like the Feejee Mermaid?
(He laughs and puts the picture down.)
CURATOR: You're investigating the Alligator Man's murder, yes?
I have something I believe you might find of some interest.
(He hands her a picture of "Jim-Jim, the Dog-Faced Boy.")
SCULLY: What does this have to do with the Glazebrook murder?
CURATOR: I've recently come into possession of an authentic P.T.
Barnum exhibit. Now, I don't show this display to all my customers...
only those with the intellectual curiosity to appreciate it.
(He walks over to a door behind Scully.)
Barnum billed it as "the great unknown."
(He opens the door. Scully is about to enter, but he stops her.)
I must first ask of you two favors. Tell no soul what you witness in here.
SCULLY: And the second favor?
CURATOR: An additional donation of five dollars.
(She hands him five dollars and steps inside the dark room. He locks
the door behind her. She walks over to the only object in the room,
a trunk cast in a spotlight. She tentatively opens the trunk to find...
nothing. A door swings open to her left with an "Exit" sign above it.
A buzzer goes off and she looks down at the trunk, smiling slightly at
having been duped.)
<-SCULLY'S TRAILER->
(Mulder hears a clanking and a groaning underneath the trailer.
He looks under and sees a small figure moving around. He walks
over to where the small figure is, unhooking his holster. He kneels
down and Mister Nutt crawls out.)
MULDER: Does Agent Scully know that you're under her crawlspace?
NUTT: I was merely repairing the plumbing on this unit. I know what
you're thinking, my friend, but you are grossly mistaken.
(He and Mulder stand.)
Just because I am not of so-called "average" height does not mean I
must receive my thrills vicariously. Not all woman are attracted to
overly tall, lanky men such as yourself. You'd be surprised how many
women find my size intriguingly alluring.
MULDER: And you'd be surprised how many men do as well.
(Nutt, offended and disgusted, walks off. Mulder looks at his
footprints. Scully steps out of her trailer.)
SCULLY: Oh, it's you. Is Mister Nutt finished with the plumbing?
(Inside, Mulder and Scully sit across from each other.)
MULDER: The blood from the window matched the blood from the nail
but they were both O-positive. They've been sent for further analysis.
I ran a background check on Doctor Blockhead. His real name is
Jeffrey Swaim and he wasn't born in Yemen, he was born in Milwaukee.
He does not hold a doctorate.
SCULLY: Well, I ended up running a bit of a background check myself.
MULDER: On who?
(She flips open a folder.)
SCULLY: On an orphan discovered in the wild forest of Albania in 1943.
"Although physically adept at catching his own food, he could not
speak a word, save for a few savage grunts. Brought to this country,
he was exhibited behind a locked cage, necessitated by his feral
ferocity, where he would terrify onlookers by devouring chunks of raw
meat." However, for reasons I could not ascertain, he ran away from
the circus and spent a vague number of years mysteriously roaming
about, supporting himself through a number of non-descript jobs.
Eventually, he wound up in Gibsonton, where he took up a career in
law enforcement and has spent the past four terms serving as sheriff.
MULDER: You're talking about Sheriff Hamilton?
SCULLY: I'm telling you that before becoming Sheriff Hamilton,
James Hamilton was Jim-Jim, the Dog-Faced Boy.
(She hands him the picture given to her by the curator.)
<-SHERIFF HAMILTON'S HOUSE->
(Sheriff Hamilton is digging a hole in the front yard with a shovel.
Scully and Mulder are in the bushes watching him. Hamilton looks
up at the full moon, then cuts something, rubs it on his hand and
throws it into the hole. He recovers the hole and walks inside.
Mulder and Scully wait until he is gone, then walk over to the hole
and start to uncover it. Mulder is using a shovel while Scully is
playing look-out. Mulder stops and they whisper to each other.)
MULDER: You know, Scully, hypertricosis does not connote lycanthropy.
SCULLY: What are you implying?
MULDER: We're being highly discriminatory here. Just because a man
was once inflicted with excessive hairiness, we've no reason to suspect
him of aberrant behavior.
SCULLY: It's like assuming guilt based solely on skin color, isn't it?
MULDER: Yeah.
(They look at each other, then kneel down and start digging with their
hands. Mulder takes out a napkin and puts the object in it. Hamilton
walks out and shines a flashlight on them.)
HAMILTON: May I ask what you're doing?
MULDER: We're exhuming... your potato.
(He holds up the napkin with the sliced potato that Hamilton buried
and they unearthed.)
HAMILTON: May I ask why?
(They stand.)
SCULLY: Sheriff, it, it's, it's been documented that many serial
killers possess a fascination with police work, some of them even
holding positions on their local force... so surveillance of
investigation team members is often utilized as a precautionary...
MULDER: (interrupts) We found out you used to be the
Dog-Faced Boy.
(He hands Hamilton the advertisement of the Dog-Faced Boy.
Hamilton looks at it and smiles.)
HAMILTON: Boy, look how skinny I was back then.
SCULLY: So that is you?
HAMILTON: Oh, sure. I spent the first half of my life as Jim-Jim.
Then one morning I noticed a bald spot on top of my head and
realized I was not only losing my hair but my career as well.
Eventually all the hair went... on top of my head, anyways.
The rest of my body is still pretty hairy, which is why I never
go to the beach.
SCULLY: That doesn't quite explain the potato.
HAMILTON: I got, uh... some warts on my hand.
MULDER: That doesn't quite explain the potato.
HAMILTON: To get rid of warts, you rub a sliced potato on your hand
and bury it under a full moon.
(Mulder and Scully look embarrassed.)
Investigation isn't going too well, is it?
(Mulder throws the potato back in the hole.)
<-TRAILER PARK->
(The Conundrum walks along, a piece of paper in his shorts.
The manager's dog starts barking at him, and he runs after it.
After chasing it for a while, the dog runs into his doggy-door and
the Conundrum slides after it, just missing it. Mister Nutt opens
the door and looks at him. The Conundrum stands, ashamed,
and hands him the paper with one of Blockhead's skull pins in it.
Nutt looks at it, and it is a check with the name "The Conundrum"
at the top. Nutt closes the door.)
NUTT: So, tell me, Commodore... why are the weirdos the only
ones that pay their rent checks in advance?
(He walks away, but the dog continues growling and barking at the
door.)
I warn you, you tattooed cretin, I have a licensed firearm and I'm
more than eager for an opportunity to use it!
(He goes to open the door when the mutant's hand reaches out and
grabs his ankle. He screams as he falls to the ground. The thing pulls
his foot through the door and starts trying to pull Nutt through as he
looks on in horror. He finally kicks it away and crawls back in.
The mutant shoves its head through the door, screaming.
Nutt screams as well.)
<-SCULLY'S TRAILER->
(A man with bloody hands unlocks the door and walks in, waking Scully
up. She sits up in bed, pointing her gun. Lanny puts his bloody hands
on her shoulders.)
LANNY: I found him. He's dead. He's dead...
(She looks at him, confused.)
<-MISTER NUTT'S TRAILER->
(Hamilton points out the blood on the outside of the doggy-door to
Scully)
HAMILTON: Lanny says all of the doors and windows were locked
from the inside.
(Inside, Mulder is looking at Nutt's body. Lanny is also there,
standing off to the side in his robe.)
MULDER: Scully, come here!
LANNY: He was like a brother to me...
(Hamilton puts his hand on Lanny's shoulder.
Scully kneels down next to Mulder.)
MULDER: I don't know if a contortionist can get through that
doggy-door, Scully, but look at this...
(He shows her the skull pin, which is in Nutt's hand. Lanny starts
screaming and banging on the door. Hamilton grabs him and turns
him around.)
HAMILTON: Lanny! Lanny! Take it easy. You're going to hurt yourself.
LANNY: So what?
HAMILTON: So you might hurt me in the process.
(Scully looks a little disappointed.
Lanny hugs Hamilton, who looks at the agents.)
He gets this way sometimes. I'll have to toss him in the drunk tank.
MULDER: We'll take Jeffrey Swaim into custody.
HAMILTON: C'mon, Lanny, let's go...
(They walk out. Mulder stands up and walks to the door.)
SCULLY: You know, Mulder...
(She stands.)
For a while there, I was beginning to suspect this case involved
something a bit more, um...
MULDER: Freakish?
(She shrugs a little and nods, kind of like an embarrassed "yes.")
You really shouldn't complain about banality, Scully, when your
main suspect is the human blockhead.
(He smiles and starts out.)
<-DOCTOR BLOCKHEAD'S TRAILER->
(Doctor Blockhead has attached hundreds of hooks into his chest.
All of the hooks have ropes on them. He is adjusting them, sitting
on a bed of nails when there is a knock on the door.)
BLOCKHEAD: It's open!
(Scully walks in, showing her badge, followed by Mulder.)
SCULLY: Mister Swaim, federal agents, we're here to qu...
(She stops, looking at him.)
BLOCKHEAD: It's a variation of an American Indian sun dance ritual.
I suspend myself by these hooks and the pain becomes so unbearable
I leave my body. If people knew the true price of spirituality, there'd be
more atheists.
SCULLY: Mister Swaim, we're here to take you into custody to
question you about some recent murders.
BLOCKHEAD: I don't answer any questions until I talk to my lawyer.
MULDER: Who's your lawyer?
BLOCKHEAD: I represent myself.
(Scully grabs his arm.)
SCULLY: Sir, if you're going to be uncooperative, I'll have to
handcuff you.
BLOCKHEAD: What gives you fascists the right to do that?
(Scully stands him up and handcuffs him.)
SCULLY: Did I not mention we're federal agents?
BLOCKHEAD: Did I not mention I'm an escape artist?
(He throws off the handcuffs, puts them on Scully, pushes her into
Mulder and runs out the door. Mulder, despite trying to stop his fall,
falls onto the bed of nails.)
SCULLY: Mulder, are you okay?
MULDER: It's more comfortable than a futon.
(The door swings open and Sheriff Hamilton stands there, holding
Blockhead by the roped hooks.)
HAMILTON: Hey... look what I caught.
(He gives the ropes a little tug.)
BLOCKHEAD: Ouch!
<-POLICE STATION->
(In the drunk tank, Lanny moans and groans. He has blood on his
hands still, and his eyes open when he ears a slithering sound.
He looks onto the ceiling and sees something horrific.)
LANNY: What the hell?
(The thing on the ceiling squeals happily as it crawls to the window.
Lanny screams.)
No! No!
(Hamilton leads Blockhead into the station by the arm.
Mulder and Scully follow quickly.)
BLOCKHEAD: This has all the makings of one of those mistaken
identity, miscarriage of justice things that prove so popular on
"60 Minutes."
(Hamilton sits him down. Mulder holds up a bag containing the skull
pin. Hamilton sits at his desk.)
MULDER: Does this belong to you?
BLOCKHEAD: The fifth amendment of our beloved constitution says...
(He stops and everyone turns when they hear a high-pitched moaning.)
MULDER: What is that?
HAMILTON: It's Lanny in the drunk tank. He'll be all right once he
sleeps it off.
(Scully is looking down the hallway at Lanny.)
SCULLY: No, I don't think he's going to sleep this one off.
(They all run over to Lanny's cell, including Blockhead, who is led by
Mulder. They look at Lanny, who looks dead, blood on his hands.
There is blood on the wall underneath the window.)
MULDER: There's been another attack.
HAMILTON: How could anyone have gotten in there?
SCULLY: No one got in, but some one got out.
(Lanny moans. Hamilton unlocks the door.)
MULDER: What are you talking about?
SCULLY: I'm not sure myself, Mulder, but I think we'll know more
when we find Leonard.
MULDER: Leonard?
SCULLY: Lanny's brother.
(The agents walk in, followed by the others. Scully rolls Lanny over
and pulls his robe away to reveal that Leonard is gone and there is a
wound where he once was.)
HAMILTON: Oh, God, they extracted the twin.
SCULLY: No, the twin extracted itself.
(Mulder kneels down and looks at the wound.)
MULDER: But it's an appendage...
SCULLY: Yeah, Mulder... this wound is identical to the other
victims' wounds. With one exception. He's not bleeding.
(Mulder stands.)
HAMILTON: If you're trying to tell me his twin brother can crawl out
of his body and then go gallivant around town, you're as drunk as he is.
(Scully stands up.)
SCULLY: You said it yourself, Sheriff. It's what's inside that counts.
I have a feeling that Lanny has an internal anomaly that allows his
conjoining twin to disjoin
MULDER: But, how? H-how...
LANNY: How could I turn him in without turning myself in?
SCULLY: Lanny, why does he attack other people?
LANNY: I don't think he knows he's harming anyone.
He's merely seeking... another brother.
(He moans, almost crying.)
HAMILTON: Are you in pain, Lanny?
(Lanny sits up.)
LANNY: It hurts. It hurts not to be wanted. I don't know why he hates
me so. I've taken care of him for all of our lives. Maybe that is the
reason why.
SCULLY: How long can he survive outside of your body?
LANNY: Long enough... to understand that you cannot change the
way you were born. Don't worry. He'll come back. He always does.
I'm still his only brother.
(Lanny lays back down.)
MULDER: Sheriff, we're going to need the paramedics.
(Hamilton runs off.)
Scully, you're the medical expert. If you think the twin can
disengage, I believe you, but how mobile could such a thing be?
(Scully looks out the window and sees a small figure crawl along
the ground quickly. The gate in the back swings open.)
SCULLY: Too mobile.
(Scully looks at him and runs out. Mulder follows.
Blockhead looks at Lanny.)
BLOCKHEAD: So your twin can, uh...
(He makes a "going out" motion.)
And then...
(He makes a "coming in" motion. Lanny nods.)
What an act!
(Scully and Mulder run out of the gate to the nearest building,
which is large and brown. They hear a snarling growl.)
SCULLY: I'll cover the back.
(She runs off and Mulder runs up the steps. He flicks the switch next
to the door and the generator turns on. Taking out his gun, he opens
the door and begins walking down the dark hallway. He peeks around
the corner and sees Leonard crawl backwards down the adjacent
hallway away from Mulder. Mulder aims his gun, but is too late.
He runs that way and turns the corner. He runs down the next hallway.
Turning the corner, he finds a dead end. He pushes against it,
then heads back. Scully hears another growl then some footsteps.
She turns the corner and points her gun.)
Freeze!
(A rumbling starts and a suspended mannequin with a head similar to
Leonard's comes flying at her on a rope from the ceiling and stops,
cackling and making strange noises.)
The funhouse.
(Mulder turns another corner and finds another dead end. He hears a
growl and sees Leonard crawling away again. He runs down that
hallway and quickly turns the corner, slamming into a wall. He
staggers into the adjacent wall, which spins around, taking Mulder
with it. Scully walks into the hall of mirrors. Everywhere around her,
there are Scullys. She hears another growl and turns to see Leonard
on the ground. She fires at him but only ends up breaking the mirror
that reflected him. She looks at the shards and sees Leonard is
nowhere around. She starts walking down a hallway and bumps into
a mirror. Turning left, she walks down another hallway and Mulder
slides out of a shaft in front of her. She instinctively points her gun,
but steps back when she sees who it is.)
MULDER: I thought I heard a shot fired.
SCULLY: I think we better go outside and catch this thing coming out.
(She steps over Mulder and walks down the hallway. The agents run out
and see Leonard crawling into the woods. They run down the road and
point their guns at another small figure. The figure starts barking and
they lower their guns.)
It's the manager's dog.
MULDER: The trailer park.
(The dog leads them through the forest.)
<-CONUNDRUM'S TRAILER->
(The Conundrum steps out of his trailer, carrying a garbage bag.
He puts it in the can as Leonard sneaks up behind him. He turns
and screams as the mutant jumps onto him and starts biting.
Mulder and Scully run into the park, hearing screaming and shrieking.
They come to the Conundrum's trailer and see him lying on the
ground, looking a little bloated. They kneel down next to him.)
SCULLY: Are you all right?
MULDER: Have you seen a, uh... uh...
(He tries to show how big it is, but runs off in frustration, not
expecting an answer. Scully runs off as well. The Conundrum
looks at his stomach and rubs it as it gurgles contentedly.)
<-GULF BREEZE TRAILER COURT->
(In the morning, the sheriff is talking to a deputy. Scully is walking
slowly towards the middle of the camp.)
HAMILTON: Uh, check out the area behind that trailer.
Let me know what you find.
(The deputy walks off and Hamilton turns to Scully.)
Now, you're sure it was the twin you saw running around here.
I mean, maybe it was the Fiji Mermaid and he jumped back
in the river and swum his way back to Fiji.
(Hamilton walks away as Mulder walks up to her.)
MULDER: Now you know how I feel.
(Mulder keeps walking. Scully walks up to Doctor Blockhead,
who is tying various pieces of junk to the roof of his car.
The Conundrum gets into the front seat.)
SCULLY: You're taking off?
BLOCKHEAD: With that thing still on the loose?
SCULLY: They've been searching for it all day. It can't have sustained
itself for this long.
BLOCKHEAD: It will probably try to crawl back up into its brother.
SCULLY: No, his brother Lanny died last night.
I already performed the autopsy on him this morning.
(Blockhead throws the rope over and walks around the car.)
BLOCKHEAD: So, I guess it's true, you can never go home again.
SCULLY: His body wounds were non-fatal. He died as a result of
advanced cirrhosis of the liver.
(Blockhead starts tying things on this side.)
BLOCKHEAD: Oh, there's a moral to the story. Lay off the booze.
SCULLY: Well, his body possesses some anatomical discrepancies
... some offshoots of the esophagus and trachea that almost
seem umbilical in nature and... I've never seen anything like it.
(Blockhead finishes tying.)
BLOCKHEAD: And you never will again. Twenty-first century genetic
engineering will not only eradicate the siamese twins and the
alligator-skinned people, but you're going to be hard-pressed to
find, uh, a slight overbite or a not-so-high cheek bone. You see,
I've seen the future and the future looks just like him.
(He points at Mulder, who is standing in front of a trailer in a
classic model pose. Hands on his hips, one foot up on the step,
looking off into the distance.)
Imagine going through your whole life looking like that. That's why
it's left up to the self-made freaks like me and the Conundrum to
remind people.
SCULLY: Remind people of what?
BLOCKHEAD: Nature abhors normality. It can't go very long without
creating a mutant. Do you know why?
SCULLY: No, why?
BLOCKHEAD: I don't either, it's a mystery. Maybe some mysteries
are never meant to be solved.
(He gets in the driver's side as Mulder walks over. He looks at the
Conundrum, who looks sick.)
MULDER: What's the matter with your friend?
BLOCKHEAD: I don't know what his problem is.
Maybe it's the Florida heat.
SCULLY: Hope it's nothing serious.
CONUNDRUM: Probably something I ate.
(He smiles at the agents and the two freaks drive off. Scully and
Mulder watch them go, then look at each other in realization.)