Fellowes: Messed up old Whaley, did he?
Guard: Messed him up good.
Fellowes: Now what'd you go and do that for?
Rawls: Man pissed me off, Boss.
Fellowes: Who the hell doesn't? (to the Guards) Box him.
(Guard is surprised.)
Rawls: (terrified) You can't put me in that box, Boss. The . . . the storm's coming.
Fellowes: Should have thought of that before you messed up old Whaley.
Rawls: (on the verge of hysteria) Well, to hell with Whaley. You can't put me in that box! Boss! You can't put me in there! You can't put me in that box! You can't do it! You're going to kill me, Boss! Boss!
(Guards drag Rawls out of the room.
The Guard looks a little concerned.)
Guard: You know they're saying tornado touchdowns all over the county.
Fellowes: (unconcerned) I can't be responsible for Acts of God.
Scully: Should we arrest David Copperfield?
Mulder: Yes, we should . . . but not for this.
Scully: Hmm. (long pause) Spontaneous human combustion.
Mulder: (grinning in disbelief) Scully . . .!
Scully: Well, isn't that where you're going with this?
Mulder: Dear Diary: Today my heart leapt when Agent Scully suggested spontaneous human combustion.
Scully: Mulder, there are one or two somewhat well-documented cases.
(Mulder says nothing, just sort of looks off to the side and nods thoughtfully.)
Scully: Mulder, shut up.
(Mulder has helpless, "What did I do?" look on his face.)
Scully: Well, then how did Rawls or whoever do this? How did he get in and out of a locked office and prop a body up against the inside of a door?
(Mulder, in searching the office comes to a section of the wall that strikes him as odd. He taps on the wall, it sounds hollow, then he easily breaks a large hole in the brittle substance.)
Mulder: (looking at the hole) Termites?
(Later, in a storage area of the prison farm they look through Rawls's belongings.)
Guard: This is all he had in his bunk area.
Scully: (reading his file) Wilson Pinker Rawls, age 34. Eight years into 30 for robbing a wire office in Bay Saint Louis. The $90,000 he stole was never recovered.
Mulder: Well, it's not in here. Hey. Look at this.
(Mulder holds up a long package of what look like very large condoms.)
Mulder: (in ET voice) Ouch.
(Rawls opens a bag of athletic socks.)
Bobby the security guard: Oh . . . Hey! Hey, that's store property. Take those off.
Rawls: Oh . . . There's something so nice about putting on a brand-new pair of socks. I don't know what it is.
Mulder: How'd he get away?
Scully: Whoever he was.
Bobby the security guard: You got me. The guy's like Houdini. Turned my back and he was gone. I had him right here.
Mulder: (looking at the pole) You had him handcuffed . . . here. Can I see your handcuffs?
(Bobby the security Guard looks at Scully. She shrugs, and he hands the cuffs to Mulder who takes them and taps them against the pole, then easily breaks them in several pieces.)
Mulder: We have a last known address for Pinker Rawls?
(Mulder and Scully walk in and find a body seated in a chair with his head drooped to his chest. Mulder reaches out and lifts it's head. The head has been hollowed out. Only the back of his skull remains.)
Mulder: (completely disgusted, letting go of the head) Ugh! (looks at his hand and wipes it on his pants) Ugh. Gesundheit.
Mulder: Yeah, but Rawls used to live here and he's come back looking for something.
Scully: $90,000. The wire office robbery eight years ago. The money hasn't been recovered.
Mulder: I don't think he spent that in prison.
Scully: I don't think Mr. Merkle did either, judging by the decor.
Scully: The state police have put out an APB on Rawls.
Mulder: You might warn them not to shoot to kill. He seems to find that annoying.
Mulder: I don't know how else to explain what happened to that prison superintendent or to poor Mr. Merkle over there, who's got no face anymore.
Scully: But where's the science in all of this, Mulder? You're talking alchemy.
Mulder: (small smile) I'm not saying that it can't be explained scientifically. Maybe it's the tornado. You suggested it yourself. Unusual climatic conditions . . . high electrical potential . . .
Scully: I'm sorry I even brought it up.
(Mulder and Scully look at the words "I WANT WHAT'S MINE" burned into the wall.)
Mulder: You think he's trying to tell us something?
Mulder: (considering) It's not about the money. It's never been about the money.
Scully: Yet he turned this place upside down which means he was looking for something. And I think it has to do with this. (showing him a bill) It's a lien on unpaid hospital bills dating back to 1992 and the patient name is June Gurwitch. And this is an IC D-9 number-- a hospital diagnostic code. This particular one means . . .
Mulder: Pregnancy.
Scully: Right. Specifically, c-section.
Mulder: This is seven years ago. That's just a few months after Rawls was sent to a prison farm.
Scully: Uh-huh. "I want what's mine." This man is looking for his child, Mulder.
(Mulder looks at Scully.)
June: What did he want?
Mulder: Maybe another chance.
6x16 6x18
