Robert "Pusher" Modell: (face in register turnstyle that is spinning) Turn this thing off!
Frank Burst: You're Pusher, I presume?
Modell: You must be Frank BURST. You know I gotta tell ya, hah, ya got the greatest name.
Mulder: Ro-neen. It's a samurai without a master. What, you never say Yojimbo?
Scully: Still, what does it mean?
Mulder: Means I bet I know ten to one what this guy's got stacked on the back of his toilet.
Scully: Well, even if he could push his will, why would he cause an accident when he himself was in the car?
Mulder: Maybe he *really* didn't want to go to jail.
Mulder: Hey . . . I think you drooled on me.
Scully: Sorry.
Modell: Are you two just going to sit there all night?
Modell: You and your pretty partner seem really close. Do you work well together?
Scully: So he's a killer and a golfer?
Mulder: Rings a bell huh? . . . Let's go G-woman.
Modell: (Groggy) Light up . . . Light up . . . (Notices Mulder) Betcha five bucks I get off.
Modell: (To lawyer) Thank you very much. Excuse me for a minute. (Goes over to Mulder) I believe you owe me five dollars.
Mulder: (takes out his wallet) Hey, your shoe's untied. (Modell looks down) Made you look. How do YOU do it?
Mulder: He psyched the guy out. He put the Whammy on him.
Scully: Please explain to me the scientific nature of 'The Whammy'.
Scully: What do you want me to say, Mulder? That I believe Modell is guilty of murder? I do. I'm just looking for an explanation a little more mundane than 'The Whammy'.
Skinner: And you're saying this same mysterious phenomenon is the reason I have a size seven heel mark on my face?
Mulder: (Investigating the fridge) Hey Scully, check this out. Mango Kiwi Tropical Swirl. Now we KNOW we're dealing with a madman.
Burst: What's up, Modell? How ya doin? Long time no see. Told ya we knew where you lived. Nice apartment, Modell. Who does your decorating? The Grinch who stole Christmas?
Modell: Ha ha ha! Agent Frank Burst. The guy with the great name!
Mulder: Think I can get the Playboy channel on this?
(Scully walks into the room where Mulder is. She sees him seated at a table, staring blankly at the wall in front of him.)
Scully: Mulder.
(She opens the door more and sees that Mulder is staring at Modell, who sits directly across from him. The gun rests between Modell's hands.)
Modell: Thanks for joining us.
Scully: We've got a dozen law enforcement officers outside in the hall . . . another thirty in the parking lot.
Modell: Regular convention.
Scully: So whatever you've got planned, it's not going to work out the way you it want to.
Modell: You don't know what I got planned.
(Scully looks down at the gun, then at Mulder, who is expressionless. She sits down in the chair nearest the door exactly between them. Modell picks up the revolver and checks the chamber.)
Modell: Two warriors of equal skill fight to the death. One is a student of Japanese budo . . . the way of war. Budo teaches the warrior to leave himself outside the battle. In other words to disregard his own death. Because of that, the budo warrior always wins. I am that
warrior. I don't fear my death. So I . . . (He slides the gun over between Mulder's hands, handle first.) I'm going to give you . . . one pull of the trigger against me. One-in-six chance.
(Mulder continues to stare at Modell, moving his hand down onto the gun. Modell puts his hand on top of Mulder's quickly.)
Modell: One. One pull.
(Mulder fits his finger into the trigger and lifts the gun, aiming it nonchalantly at Modell.)
Scully: Wait. Mulder, look . . . there's pure oxygen in this room. (The chamber can be heard clicking lowly.) There's no telling what could happen if you pull that trigger . . .
(He pulls the trigger, but the bullet isn't in the chamber. Scully gasps slightly, having been cut off in mid-sentence. After a few seconds, Modell exhales deeply, his body relaxing slowly. He smirks, out of breath from fear.)
Modell: Piece of cake. Your turn.
(Scully's eyes go to Mulder again.)
Scully: Mulder, no.
Modell: Mulder, yes.
(Scully is about to cry.)
Modell: Go.
Scully: Mulder, listen to me. Give me the gun. We can stop this thing right now. You and I can walk outside of this room . . .
(Mulder cringes and jerks the barrel to his head while pulling the trigger in one quick, fluid motion. No gunshot. Scully stands and pounds the table with both hands, near tears, glaring at Pusher.)
Scully: No! Damn you! You bastard! Mulder, hand me the g . . .
(She reaches for the gun, but Mulder's head jerks back up, glaring at Modell, aiming the gun at his controller. Scully sobs shallowly, no tears forthcoming though. Mulder nonchalantly moves his arm and points the gun at Scully. Her eyes widen. She breathes shallowly.)
Scully: Mulder, you don't have to do this. You're stronger than this.
Modell: Your turn, Scully. Got to play by the rules. Pull the trigger, Mulder.
Scully: Mulder, fight him. You can fight this.
Modell: Come on. Pull the trigger, Mulder. She shot you, I read it in her files. Payback time . . . shoot the little spy!
(Scully looks at the mirror across the way from her and spots a fire alarm on the back wall in the hallway. Mulder speaks angrily, glaring but not at Scully, even though that is who he must face.)
Mulder: I'm going to kill you, Modell.
Modell: Yeah, pull the trigger, you get another crack at me.
(Scully slowly starts to back out of the room.)
Mulder: Scully, run! Scully . . .
(His finger tenses on the finger. The chamber starts to turn, clicking into position. She stares at him, then runs out and pulls the alarm. The alarm blares and Modell looks away from Mulder for the first time, over to Scully. He looks back at Mulder, who turns to him, glaring,
and points the gun. Modell gasps. Mulder pulls the trigger and Modell is shot, slamming against the back of his chair, then falling. Mulder stands, tips over the table and continues to dry-fire at Modell, even though he knows the chamber is empty. Other agents swarm in.)
Mulder: He was always such a . . . little man. This was finally something that made him feel big.
3x16 3x18
