Joe Cutrona: Let's make this interesting. I'm raising you 15 large.

Henry Weems: I wouldn't do that. This is all I need.

Cutrona: You're going to need Depends after you see this hand.



Henry: That's a straight flush, right? (The men at the table stare at the cards.) Beginner's luck.



Cutrona: What the hell do you think you're doing?

Henry: Going home.

Cutrona: No, no. Not so fast. We expect a chance to win some of our money back.

Henry: Guys, there's over $100,000 here.

Mr. Jank: You're damn right there's over $100,000 there.

Henry: $100,000 is all I need. Sorry. I had fun, though. Where can I cash out?



Henry: Guys, I think we're going up instead of down. (They drag him out onto the roof and he drops his poker chips.) Guys . . . Guys, this is not what I meant by "cashing out"! Hey! Hey!



Scully: Hey, Mulder, it's me. What now?

Mulder: Are you in Chicago?

Scully: Yes, I'm in Chicago. I'm on the northeast corner of 7th and Hunter just like you asked. Only you're not here. So where are you?

Mulder: Oh, around.

Scully: Yeah.

Mulder: Hey, nice outfit.



Scully: Hey. What's down there?

Mulder: Before you check out down there check out up there.



Mulder: Which is why last night there were two agents parked across the street in surveillance. They witnessed a man being thrown from Cutrona's roof at 10:40 p.m. This man fell 30 floors, plus the distance down this shaft, because these doors just happened to be open-- straight through, nothing but net.

Scully: Ouch.

Mulder: I'm guessing that's what he said. After, he got up, climbed out of here and scampered off into the night.



Scully: Was this basement thoroughly searched?

Mulder: No. Technically, falling 300 feet and surviving isn't a crime.



Scully: So, basically, what if we were looking for Wile E. Coyote?



Scully: Maybe he just got lucky.

Mulder: What if he got really, really lucky? That's your big scientific explanation, Scully?



(At Henry's building, Mulder buzzes his apartment . . . )

Scully: I think you're taking a flier here, Mulder. There's got to be at least 600 people with prosthetic eyes in the greater Chicago area.

Mulder: Yeah, but only this one Henry Weems made an appointment this morning to get a new one.

(Mulder buzzes again.)

Scully: Maybe he can't see his way to the door.



Mulder: Come on, Scully. I'm feeling lucky.



Scully: You okay, Mulder?

Mulder: Yeah, it's all right. My ass broke the fall.



Mulder: Oh, uh . . . You want to try this on for size, Cinderella? (hands Henry his fake eye)



Scully: So, here's the plan, as I see it: we inform the Chicago field office about Weems, leaving it to them to secure his testimony, you change your clothes . . . we fly back to D.C. by sunset and all is right with the world.



Mulder: Come on, Scully, you're going to dump this case just as it's getting interesting.

Scully: "Interesting," Mulder was when we were looking for Wile E. Coyote. Come on, Mulder, this guy just got lucky. There's no X-File here.

Mulder: Maybe his luck is the X-File.



Scully: What the hell happened here, Mulder?

Mulder: Cause . . . and effect.

Scully: Meaning . . .?

Mulder: Okay, so . . . watch. (Mulder acts out the attack) So Bellini kicks down the door -- whaa gaa! -- poised to kill Weems, right? And just as he's about to pull the trigger a noise startles him . . . the buzzer -- when I buzzed to be let back in the apartment. So when he does pull the trigger, his aim is off, right? And he hits the lamp, which falls over and knocks over the ironing board, so as the bullet ricochets Weems dives over the sofa. Now, when Bellini goes for him he trips over the ironing board, bounces off the chair, flips end over end and his shoelace gets caught in the fan-- QED.

(Scully gives a small laugh. The shoelace suddenly breaks and the body falls to the floor.)

Mulder: Cause and effect: seemingly unrelated and unconnected events and occurrences that appear unrelated and random beforehand but which seem to chain-react in Henry Weems' favor.

Scully: Dumb luck?

Mulder: Yeah, he seems to have tapped into it somehow.



Scully: So I'm guessing you're a sports fan. Which one's your favorite?

Richie: : Well, it used to be basketball. But now the Bulls suck, so I think maybe baseball.

Scully: I like baseball, too.



Scully: So, let me get this straight. This is the man who initially won the money?

Maurice: Mm-hmm.

Scully: And once you and he ascertained that the accident victim was still alive this man fled on foot?

Maurice: Mm-hmm.

Scully: Okay. Afterwards, the man who was hit by the truck handed you the lottery card, and said . . .

Maurice: "Maurice, I want you to have this."

Scully: Mm-hmm. Thank you, Mr. Albert. I think that will be all.



Scully: Well, he's not in his place and he's not with Richie. You think he hid in there?

Mulder: He doesn't "hide," he "avoids."



Henry: Hey . . . hey. Watch the rough stuff.

Mulder: Henry Weems . . . you're a hard man to track down.

Henry: I'm working here.

Mulder: Oh? You and I are going to have a talk. Just sit right here and don't move, okay?

Henry: Tough guy.



Mulder: What are the odds for Cutrona being a perfect match? A thousand-to-one? A million-to-one?

Scully: Maybe higher. Maybe everything does happen for a reason . . . whether we see it or not.

Mulder: Maybe your luck is changing.

Henry: Maybe.

Go Back to Season 7
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