Quagmire/Transcript

===SCENE 1===
STRIKER'S COVE
HEUVELMANS LAKE
BLUE RIDGE MOUNTAINS, GA
(By the water, birds warble and frogs croak. With gloved hands, Farraday picks up a frog.)
FARRADAY: When I began our field research here, these frogs were thriving. Since then, the adult population has dropped to fewer than 200. If you don't take protective measures, in a few years... the Rana sphenocephala will be extinct here.
(He lets the frog go and it hops away. As he stands, Dr. Bailey—a man in a Forestry Service jacket—comes to face him.)
BAILEY: Frog populations are declining all over the globe, Dr Farraday. No one knows why. We can't possibly place them all on the endangered species list.
FARRADAY: We'd find a way if it were cute, furry little mammals we were talking about.
BAILEY: Regardless, your study remains inconclusive. Speculative at best. You've provided no concrete evidence that frog depopulation is the exclusive result of human encroachment.
FARRADAY: A frog holocaust is currently being executed, Dr. Bailey, and man is the executioner.
BAILEY: You're a biologist, Dr. Farraday. You've never heard of survival of the fittest? 
(He walks off, waving farewell behind his back.)
FARRADAY: Don't forget that rule also applies to mankind. You can't turn your back on nature, or nature will turn her back on you!
(Upon making it back to his truck, Bailey finds his pager holster empty.)
BAILEY: Aw, damn it. Freakin' beeper.
(He heads back. Back by the lake's edge, he crouches and searches the reeds. Frogs, songbirds, crows chitter. Suddenly, with a loud rustling, it's silent. He looks up briefly before returning to his search. Unbeknownst to him, something is approaching from out on the lake. In a tangle of reeds, his pager beeps and he finds it. He has just picked it up to brush the dirt off when something grabs him from behind, dragging him down by the legs with a crunch.)
BAILEY: No! No! No!
(His hands claw for purchase in the muddy bank, but it's no use—he is dragged backwards into the lake. His shaking hand is pulled underwater for good, just as—in the foreground—a frog hops away, unperturbed.)
===SCENE 2===
COUNTY RD 33
RIGDON, GA.
("WHAT'S OLDER THAN THE HILLS?" asks a billboard on a long, quiet road. Mulder and Scully drive past. Queequeg, Scully's pet Pomeranian, is restless in the backseat.)
SCULLY: Nature's calling. I think we should pull over soon.
MULDER: Did you really have to bring that thing?
SCULLY: You wake me up on a Saturday morning, tell me to be ready in five minutes, my mother is out of town, all of the dog sitters are booked, and you know how I feel about kennels. So unless you want to lose your security deposit on the car, I suggest you pull over.
MULDER: All right, well, I think I'm lost anyway. I gotta stop and ask for directions.
SCULLY: I know I'm lost as to why you're so interested in this missing persons case.
MULDER: Dr. Bailey works for the U.S. Forestry Service. That makes his disappearance a federal case.
SCULLY: It's not jurisdiction that I'm questioning, Mulder.
MULDER: Dr. Bailey's not the first person to go missing from Heuvelman's Lake recently. Two weeks ago, a Boy Scout troop was out here fossil hunting. Their troop leader wandered off to relieve himself, and he hasn't been seen or heard from since.
SCULLY: So you think that there's a serial killer at large?
MULDER: The operative word being large.
(Scully looks out the car window. Another billboard: "WHAT'S BIGGER THAN THE SKY?")
SCULLY: What are you leaving out?
MULDER: What makes you think I'm leaving anything out?
SCULLY: Multiple missing persons cases are not that uncommon, Mulder. Why this particular one warrants us flying halfway across the country and driving for two hours is a total mystery. 
(She sees another billboard.)
Oh, tell me you're not serious.
(The billboard depicts a Nessie-like lake monster—a cartoon with a long neck and a mouth of spiny teeth. It reads: "BIG BLUE, THE SOUTHERN SERPENT. SPOT HIM AT HEUVELMANS LAKE.") 
===SCENE 3===
ECOLOGY SCIENCES LAB
HEUVELMANS LAKE
(Mulder wanders by a tank of fish. From around the lab, animals croon—frogs and waterbirds.)
SCULLY: According to the sheriff's report, you were the last person to see Dr. Bailey alive.
FARRADAY: That's what they tell me.
SCULLY: I understand you argued over an endangered species petition.
FARRADAY: Bailey was the worst kind of hypocrite. Closest he ever came to communing with nature was subscribing to National Geographic.
SCULLY: You sound bitter, Dr. Farraday.
FARRADAY: Of course I'm bitter. The man wrote off three years of carefully collected data in a two-hour inspection... which doesn't mean I plotted his demise. 
(Scully tilts her head dispassionately.)
Well, that is what you are suggesting, isn't it?
SCULLY: Well, aside from having a motive, you don't seem too upset by any of this.
FARRADAY: You expect me to cry for one man when entire species are perched on the brink of extinction?
MULDER: Dr. Farraday, you know the wildlife in and around this lake just about as well as anybody, don't you?
FARRADAY: I'd say that's accurate.
MULDER: Are you aware of any indigenous species that's capable of attacking a human being?
FARRADAY: Yes. Another human being.
MULDER: Aside from that, is there a creature that comes to mind —
FARRADAY: Has anyone ever told you two you have a great problem coming to the point?
MULDER: Okay, then. In your work, have you come across any evidence that lends support to the existence of this creature they call Big Blue?
FARRADAY: See, this is what always happens. This is how it starts.
MULDER: What?
FARRADAY: The deflection, sleight of hand. See, whenever an issue requires any real thought, any serious mental effort, people turn to UFOs and sea serpents and Sasquatch. 
(Irritated, he turns around to a work bench. Tools clatter.)
Afternoon talk shows and tabloid TV. They've reduced our attention span to the length of a sound bite. So that soon our ability to think will be as extinct as the Rana sphenocephala frog.
MULDER: I'll take that rambling diatribe to mean that you don't believe in the existence of such a creature.
FARRADAY: I'm not even going to grace that statement with a reply.
MULDER: A prehistoric animal living in a lake is not without precedence. Last August they pulled a bull shark from Lake Onota in Massachusetts.
FARRADAY: An anomaly. Which proves nothing. It only serves as fodder for psuedoscientists with nothing better to do than chase fairy tales. Excuse me.
===SCENE 4===
(Mulder and Scully cross a shop's parking lot—Mulder holding an umbrella, Scully holding Queequeg's leash. The dogs yips incessantly. The shop's sign reads "BAIT & TACKLE." On the roof sits an inflatable Big Blue, just the same as on the billboards. Its head ducks and sways in the wind.)
MULDER: Lake creatures have been reported for centuries in dozens of countries, from the monsters in Loch Ness and Shiel to the Ogopogo on Lake Okanagan.
SCULLY: And Lake Champlain, Lagarfljót, Iceland, and—
MULDER: Sounds like you know a little something about the subject.
SCULLY: I did as a kid. But then I grew up and became a scientist.
MULDER: Well, some very grown up cryptozoologists believe that it could be an evolutionary throwback, possibly prehistoric.
SCULLY: An aquatic dinosaur.
MULDER: A plesiosaur, actually. Though, admittedly, there's not a lot of hard evidence to back that up.
SCULLY: You know why? Because those creatures don't exist, Mulder. They're folk tales born out of some collective fear of the unknown.
MULDER: Well, how many folk tales do you know that could eat a Boy Scout leader and a biologist?
(She closes her eyes in defeat. Having tied Queequeg up, she enters the shop with Mulder. It's full of commemorative Big Blue paraphernalia—cups, plates, keychains. Mulder stares at a framed object, labeled: "SCALE FROM BIG BLUE / Found February 20 1965".)
MULDER: Check this out, Scully.
SCULLY: It looks like an insect casing or carapace — something from a beetle.
TED: Can I help you folks?
MULDER: We're looking for the Lake View Cabins. Flicker Road?
TED: Oh, you passed the turnoff a few miles back. It's, uh pretty tough to find. A map might help. 
(He holds out a map, and pulls it back when Mulder reaches for it.)
They're 2.50 each, plus Uncle Sam.
MULDER: Fine. 
(He takes the map and reaches into his coat to pay.)
TED: If you don't mind my saying, you folks don't look like you're here for the trout.
SCULLY: No, we're with the FBI. We're investigating a pair of missing persons reports.
TED: Oh, yeah. Yep, that's big news around here. Everyone's been talking about it.
MULDER: What are they saying?
TED: The same thing they've been saying for years. Now, I'm not one for spreading rumors... the truth is, I've heard the story since I was a kid.
MULDER: About Big Blue? What kind of stories?
TED: Well, I was ten years old, fishing with my daddy, when I heard a big commotion. Clear across the lake. A wailing sound, the likes of which I had never heard before — haven't heard since. My daddy told me later it was a cow who'd escaped from the Rockdale ranch and was drinkin' by the lake when ol' Blue came up and snatched her right off the bank.
SCULLY: That's quite a story.
TED: That's just one.
SCULLY: Those stories must sell a lot of T-shirts.
TED (chuckling): Well, a man's gotta survive.
MULDER: What about you — you believe those stories?
TED: Well, I believe every man's gotta look at the evidence, decide for himself. 
(The bell rings as another man enters the shop.)
But if you want to ask a real expert, should probably talk to Ansel here. He's out there practically every day. It was his daddy's cow that got eaten.
ANSEL: Can you get these developed by tomorrow, Ted? Gimme another five rolls, put 'em on my tab? 
(He sets a pile of film on the counter. Ted nods and leans down behind the counter for more.)
TED: These folks are with the FBI, Ansel. They're looking into that unsolved mystery of how those people disappeared.
ANSEL: Ha. "Unsolved mystery." Since when is it a mystery?
MULDER: So you think Big Blue's responsible for what's been happening?
ANSEL: Don't you?
MULDER: Have you ever actually seen it?
ANSEL: Not directly, no. But I aim to. One day, I'll be in the right place at the right time, and I will snap a shot of that monster.
(Out by the lake, Ansel spears a worm on a fishhook.)
ANSEL: There we go. All right. 
(He casts. Something bites, something big. The reel spins rapidly, out of his control.)
Son of a gun!
(He reels it in, but stops and stares in horror as his catch surfaces—it's a body.) 
(Back in the shop, Ted is gesturing at Mulder's newly purchased map.)
TED: Now, if you hit Striker's Cove, you've gone too far.
(The shop bell rings.)
ANSEL: Call the sheriff. We've got a floater. 
(The four walk out to the pier. The body, bobbing in the water, is missing from the waist up. Ansel takes pictures. Scully takes Mulder's umbrella as he kneels to extricate a wallet from the back pocket. Grabbing the belt loops, Scully turns the body right-side up.)
MULDER: It's Scout Woolsley, the Boy Scout troop leader.
SCULLY: Well, his fly's undone.
MULDER: Are you insinuating something?
SCULLY: No, most drowning victims are found with high levels of alcohol in their blood and their flies unzipped. While urinating over the sides of boats, docks or whatever, they lose their balance, fall in and drown.
MULDER: Still doesn't explain why half of him is still missing. Looks to me like something took a big bite.
SCULLY: Maybe not so big.
MULDER: What do you mean?
SCULLY: Well, fish eat decomposing matter. Any body that 's been suspended in this environment for a period of time is going to become a food source. We eat fish, and fish eat us.
MULDER: But are fish also known for eating half and saving half for later?
===SCENE 5===
(Night. A heron glides above the lake. Cicadas and frogs sing. Clawed, monstrous reptilian feet tromp across the muddy bank. But they're fake. They're just boots, attached to the legs of Ted—diligently making footprints by the light of his flashlight. As he tromps forward, a boot is suctioned too deep into the mud and he's stuck.)
TED: Damn it. 
(As he works to free himself, something approaches unseen from behind him. Suddenly, he cries out as he's attacked.)
Oh, God, no! No! No! No! No! Help me! Help me! 
(He's dragged away with loud splashing and cries of protest. The clawed boot remains behind in the muddy ground.)
(The next morning, a camera shutter clicks. Ansel is taking pictures of a monster footprint. Mulder picks up Ted's fallen hat.)
ANSEL: Like I said, I recognize his hat.
(It's bright red, with a picture of two fishing bobbers, and the text: "SHOW US YOUR BOBBERS.")
MULDER: How could you not?
ANSEL: So there's Ted Bertram's four-by parked about a mile up that way. Here's his hat, and here's these tracks. Know what I'm saying? I mean, look at the size of these tracks.
SCULLY: Mulder? This is Sheriff Lance Heads.
(She's approaching from down the path with the sheriff and her dog.)
MULDER: Wait, W — Watch out, watch out for the tracks. Careful. Watch out where you're walking.
(Queequeg, characteristically vocal and wayward, does not listen to him.)
SCULLY: Queequeg.
(As Scully and the sheriff arrive, he shakes hands with Mulder.)
SHERIFF: How you doin'?
(Scully glances off at Queequeg, and Ansel begins taking pictures of her incessantly.)
SHERIFF: Ansel, why don't you go... check the woods?
ANSEL: Today's the day, Sheriff. I'm going to get him.
MULDER: Any sign of Ted Bertram?
SHERIFF: No. And I'm not jumping to any conclusions either. Speaking of which, what's this I hear about you wanting to close the lake?
MULDER: Just until we figure out what's going on here.
SHERIFF: Well, sir, I think I can tell you what's going on. Same thing goes on every year. Fishermen get drunk, they drown, folks get run over by power boats. Hell, on a lake this size, you're going to have eight, nine deaths in a season. That's just a statistical fact.
MULDER: Yeah, but you've got two or three in as many weeks, I'd say you're a little outside of your bell curve, Sheriff.
SHERIFF: Agent... Mulder? Mulder, this lake has 48 miles of shoreline. I got four deputies full time. Now, to close down a lake this size... hell, you'd have to call out the National Guard for something like that to happen. I mean —
SCULLY: You'd need irrefutable proof.
MULDER: What about these tracks?
SCULLY: Mulder, a creature as large as the one that you're looking for would have left considerably deeper impressions. 
(Her dog pulls so hard on his leash, she's yanked backwards.)
Queequeg! Queequeg, come back here! Queequeg!
(She follows the dog off into the woods, and finds him sniffing Ted's monster boot.)
Mulder. Sheriff, come take a look at this.
SHERIFF: What you got?
SCULLY: There's your lake monster, Mulder.
MULDER: That's what it looks like.
SCULLY: It's all a hoax.
SHERIFF: I'll be dammed. Sure seems like it. 
(Mulder swipes a finger across the boot, and holds it up to reveal blood.)
MULDER: Yeah, but what happened to the hoaxer? 
(She sighs and shrugs.)
===SCENE 6===
(The rear windshield of a van, covered in stickers: The Doors, The Misfits, Jimi Hendrix, Hole. The stoner kid and hesitant chick from War of the Coprophages sit facing each other on a pier.)
STONER: I saw it on the, uh, Discovery Channel? They got like this whole, you know, cult, built up around these tree toads. The skin's got these hallucinogenic properties. Lets you see all these visions. It's really spiritual.
CHICK: Yeah? I don't know.
(He sets down his beer, stroking the head of the toad he holds in the other hand.)
STONER: It's 'sposed to take the doors of perception... and swing them so wide open, you know? Plus you get to see all these really cool streaks and trails and crap. 
(He goes for it. He licks the toad, then gags. She leans in.)
CHICK: Well? 
(Swaying, clutching the toad, he doesn't answer.)
Are you sure that's even a toad?
(Suddenly, a third kid bursts up from underwater, shocking the two on the pier. They yell.)
STONER: Dude, what's wrong with you? You made me drop my toad.
DUDE: Chill out, man. I'll get you another one.
(He gets his snorkel back in place and goes back under. The girl shakes her head and looks at a road map laid out on the pier.)
STONER: How long til we get down to Lauderdale? 
(Suddenly, the diver surfaces again. He's screaming, windmilling his arms as he's pulled back through the water rapidly. He goes under and the water runs red. )
STONER: Dude! 
STONER (to chick): Oh, no. 
(The diver's head resurfaces.)
STONER: Dude?
(All that's left is his head. His body's been eaten below the neck.)
STONER: Woah.
===SCENE 7===
(Mulder and Scully approach the crime scene. Police radio drones unintelligibly.)
SHERIFF: Did you see anything moving in the water?
GIRL (O.S.): I don't remember. 
SHERIFF: Well, how about you, did you see anything?
(The chick shakes her head.)
SHERIFF: Neither one of you remember anything?
GIRL (O.S.): I wanna go home... 
(Both the stoner and the chick shake their heads.)
GIRL (O.S.): Well, why'd we even come camping?
SHERIFF: Great. 
MULDER: If this is a hoax, it's quite an elaborate one. 
(Scully examines the head, wrapped in plastic. The sheriff approaches, having given up.)
SHERIFF: I got zip out of Freebird and Moon Unit over there, there's no telling what they're been smoking. What's it looking like?
SCULLY: Well, it's hard to tell without an autopsy, but it looks like propeller damage from a motorboat.
SHERIFF: Well, this is a designated boating area!
MULDER: Yeah, but twenty feet from shore, and twice in one day?
SCULLY: Mulder, look at it out there. It's like rush hour.
GIRL (O.S.): I don't wanna be here anymore.
SCULLY: I think you're ignoring the obvious. 
MULDER: What about Ted Bertram?
SCULLY: For all we know, he stepped in something and bled into those funny shoes of his. He's probably so embarrassed right now, that he doesn't even want to show his face.
MULDER: Oh, is that the psychological approach to crime-solving? He's too embarrassed?
SCULLY: Regardless of what I believe, there's no hard evidence that it's what you believe.
(Ansel, out on the beach, is singing Cyndi Lauper's True Colors as he sets up a camera.)
ANSEL: ...see your true colors, that's why I love you. So don't be afraid to show your true, blue colors. 
(He focuses the camera on a rig he's set up out on the lake: an inner tube draped with pieces of meat.)
ANSEL: Okay, Big Blue. You're mine. Today's the day!
(He walks off to a folding table to look at some other camera equipment. The second he turns his back on the lake, the tube dips—he's got a bite. Busy preparing another camera, he doesn't hear.)
ANSEL: Colors, that's why I love you. 
(He turns to see something large swimming from under the tube towards the shore. He lifts his camera, only to realize the lens cap is still on. The monster rushes up the beach towards him.)
ANSEL: Crap! Jesus!
(He gets the cap off just in time to snap several pictures as he is attacked. He goes down screaming.)
(Later, Mulder holds a latex glove to pick up Ansel's fallen camera. Behind him, deputies search the lake, throwing grappling hooks into the water and dragging them back.)
MULDER (to a deputy): This roll's been exposed, can you get that developed?
DEPUTY: Yes, sir. 
MULDER: Thanks.
(He hands off the camera, then turns to the sheriff.) 
That's three in one day, Sheriff. All this driving from crime scene to crime scene is giving me highway hypnosis. Close down the lake.
SHERIFF: I done told you once, it ain't that simple. I just ain't got the manpower. Furthermore, I'm not at all convinced we're dealing with an aquatic menace.
SCULLY: He's right, Mulder. Those two sets of remains we found so far are inconclusive. We really need to find this body.
SHERIFF: My thoughts exactly, ma'am. If you'll just give us a couple more minutes — Whoa! 
(The Sheriff's line is caught on something that yanks him forward, several yards into the lake. Everyone calls out to him. He quickly swims back to shore. Mulder and Scully help him back up the rocky bank.) 
SCULLY: Are you okay, Sheriff?
SHERIFF (breathlessly): Uh, somethin' — somethin' brushed up against me out there. Somethin'... big. 
SHERIFF (to deputy): Close the lake! 
DEPUTY: Right, Sheriff. 
SHERIFF: Close it down! 
DEPUTY 2: Yeah. 
SHERIFF: I want you call the state police and the Wildlife, Fish and Game! You tell 'em we got an emergency situation! 
(Night. Mulder and Scully stand in the living room of his cabin sifting through Ansel's photographs. Blurry shots of the shore rocks, an accidental selfie from below. Mulder looks at each picture before handing it to Scully. Queequeg whines.) 
MULDER: Looks like Ansel took these during the attack. 
SCULLY: I agree with you. I just wish that he gave us something more.
MULDER: Well, look at this. Could this be a tooth?
(It's a vaguely triangular white shape against a black background.)
SCULLY: Yeah, it could be a lot of things, Mulder. Fifteen years of fruitless hunting, and the only thing the guy comes up with is a blurry picture of the monster's tooth?
MULDER: Well, there are thousands of pictures here, Scully. There's gotta be some visual evidence here somewhere. Here, go through these.
(He gets her a stack from a bag by the door, then returns to her side to look through one of his own.)
SCULLY: Mulder, they're just a bunch of poorly composed tourist shots. There's —
MULDER: That could be something.
SCULLY: A tooth?
(He looks away ruefully. Queequeg, sitting by the door, whimpers.)
I'm taking Queequeg for a walk.
MULDER: Want me to come with you?
SCULLY: I'll be fine. 
(She lifts her shirt, revealing the gun on her hip. Still looking through pictures, he laughs.) 
Goodnight, Mulder.
MULDER: All right, I'll see you in the morning.
(Outside, Scully jiggles Queequeg's leash gently, in a "hurry up" gesture. He is unmoved.)
SCULLY: Come on, Queequeg. 
(He growls and barks, jumping forward.)
Queequeg, we're not going to go into the woods. Come on, do your business. I thought you had to go. Queequeg! What is it? 
(He keeps snarling at the woods. She holds up her flashlight, glancing around her. Suddenly, the dog makes a break for it.)
Queequeg! Where are you going? 
(She chases him into the woods.)
Queequeg! Queequeg, Come back here! Queequeg! Queequeg? Queequeg! Quee — Queeq — Queequ —
(The leash spools back to its holder, and to Scully's horror, Queequeg is gone.)
===SCENE 8===
(Scully is back in Mulder's cabin, holding her dog's collar and staring at nothing.)
MULDER: I'm sorry about Queequeg. 
(She nods silently.)
You know, I think I've learned something from these photos.
SCULLY: Mulder...
MULDER: They're not pictures of the lake monster, they're pictures of the lake — locations where the creature's been sighted over the past several years. Look at this. 
(He crosses to her, squatting to point out locations on his map. She doesn't look up.)
Five years ago, all the sightings occurred in the center of the lake, but progressively the sightings have moved closer and closer to shore. Until this year, they're practically on the shore.
SCULLY: Could you repeat the last part again? I kinda faded out.
MULDER: Which — which part?
SCULLY: After you said "I'm sorry?"
MULDER: Can you drive a boat?
===SCENE 9===
(She can drive a boat, and she does. Mulder sits behind her, looking at his map. A sonar readout is beeping, and displaying plenty of fish.)
SCULLY: It's too bad we're not out here fishing. 
MULDER: We are fishing.
SCULLY: You really expect to find this thing, don't you, Mulder?
MULDER: You want to head right h — here. 
(He reorients the map and holds it up to her.)
SCULLY: I'll take that as a yes.
MULDER: I know the difference between expectation and hope. Seek and ye shall find, Scully.
SCULLY: You know, on the old mariners' maps, the cartographers would designate uncharted territories by writing "Here be monsters."
MULDER: Oh, I got a map of New York City just like that.
(The sonar display's beeping quickens.)
SCULLY: What was that? 
MULDER: It ain't no bass.
(The display now shows a shape much larger than any of the fish.)
SCULLY: What is that? What is that, Mulder?
MULDER: Here be monsters, Scully.
SCULLY: It looks like it's coming straight at us.
MULDER: Yep, that's what it looks like. 
(On the screen, the shape collides with the boat. Scully and Mulder are thrown to the side and water begins pouring in through a wound in the hull. Scully hauls herself up to pick up the radio.)
SCULLY: Mayday! Mayday! Does anybody read me? This is a distress call from the Patricia Rae. PA7A3827. My boat is taking on w —
(A LOUD CRASH. She and Mulder are thrown to the ground again. He opens a compartment for life vests. She rises to the radio again.)
Mayday! Mayday! 
MULDER: Scully, let's get out of here!
(They pull on life jackets, pushing forward through the water that's rising ever higher. As the boat sinks, they stand on a nearby rock, watching.)
SCULLY: There goes our $500 deposit.
MULDER: I say we swim to shore.
SCULLY: Swim?
MULDER: Yeah, the shore can't be too far from here.
SCULLY: In which direction? 
(Beyond the small arc of her lantern as she swings it in a circle, there’s only void. The water could go on forever.)
MULDER: Yeah. And, you know, living in the city you forget that night is actually so, uh... dark.
SCULLY: Living in the city you forget a lot of things. You know, there you're always thinking about being mugged or hit by a car. It's not until you get back to nature til you realize that everything is out to get you. That's what my father always taught me — to respect nature, because it has no respect for you. 
(Water splashes. They both draw their guns. Another splash, this time from behind them — they whirl around in unison, guns raised. Silence. The moment passes and they stand down.)
MULDER: That was him, Scully. That was Big Blue.
SCULLY: So what if it was. Mulder, what are we doing here?
MULDER: What do you mean, what are we doing here?
SCULLY: What are you hoping to accomplish?
MULDER: Scully, so many of the things that we investigate are so intangible. But this creature — it exists within the specific earthly confines of this lake, and I want to find it.
SCULLY: What for?
MULDER: You're — you're a scientist, why do you ask that question? I mean, it would be a marvelous discovery. It could revolutionize evolutionary biological thinking.
SCULLY: Is that really the reason why? 
(He sighs.)
You know, when you showed me those pictures that the photographer took? You wanna know what I really saw in them?
MULDER: A tooth?
SCULLY: No. You. That man is your future. Listening only to himself, hoping to catch a glimpse of the truth for who knows what reason.
MULDER: Well, I did read in his journals that he was hoping to live off the copyright fees from a genuine Big Blue photo.
SCULLY: Well, as dumb as it sounds, at least it's a legitimate reason.
MULDER: You don't think my reasons are legitimate?
SCULLY: Mulder, sometimes I just can't figure them out.
(A splash. Something is approaching from the water ahead.)
SCULLY: Mulder. 
(Frightened, they stand and turn, guns raised. From the eerie mist emerges... a duck. Scully's terror is dissolved into shame at the humbling realization that she's drawn her weapon on a duck. Despairingly, she leans on Mulder's shoulder. The duck quacks jauntily. Mulder hasn't lowered his gun.)
MULDER: I'm still tempted to fire. 
(She shoves him and he relaxes.) 
(Some time later, they're still stranded. They sit on their life vests, the lantern between them.)
MULDER: Hey, Scully, do you think you could ever cannibalize someone? I mean, if you really had to.
SCULLY: Well, as much as the very idea is abhorrent to me, I suppose under certain conditions a living entity is practically conditioned to perform whatever extreme measures are necessary to ensure its survival. I suppose I'm no different.
MULDER: You've lost some weight recently, haven't you?
SCULLY: Yeah, actually. I have, thanks for...
(Catching his meaning, she glares at him. He laughs.)
MULDER: But it is amazing what some animals will do to guarantee the continuation of a species, isn't it? I mean, a creature — one of this size must have adapted its behavior over the years to minimize its chances of being seen by its only predator, us. Its coming closer to shore for its prey must be an act of desperation on its part.
SCULLY: Poor Queequeg.
MULDER: Why did you name the dog Queequeg?
SCULLY: It was the name of the harpoonist in Moby Dick. My father used to read to me from Moby Dick when I was a little girl, and I called him Ahab and he called me Starbuck. So I named my dog Queequeg. 
(She pauses.)
That's funny, I just realized something.
MULDER: It's a bizarre name for a dog, huh?
SCULLY: No. How much you're like Ahab. You're so consumed by your personal vengeance against life, whether it be its inherent cruelties or its mysteries, that everything takes on a warped significance to fit your megalomaniacal cosmology.
MULDER: Scully, are you coming on to me?
SCULLY: It's just — the truth or a white whale, what difference does it make? I mean, both obsessions are impossible to capture, and trying to do so will only leave you dead along with everyone else you bring with you. You know, Mulder, you are Ahab.
MULDER: You know, it's interesting you should say that, because I've always wanted a peg leg. It's a boyhood thing I never grew out of. 
(She looks away, exhausted and disappointed. He talks faster.)
No, I'm not being flippant, I mean, I've given this a lot of thought. If you have a peg leg or hooks for hands, you know, maybe it’s enough to simply carry on living. You know, bravely facing life with your disability. It's heroic just to survive. But without these things you're actually expected to make something of your life — achieve something, earn a raise, wear a necktie. So — so — so, if anything I'm actually the antithesis of Ahab, because if I did have a peg leg I'd quite possibly be more happy and more content and not feel the need to chase after these creatures of the unknown.
SCULLY: And that's not flippant?
MULDER: No, flippant is my favorite line from Moby Dick: “Hell is an idea first born on an undigested apple dumpling.” 
(As he recites the line, she mouths it along with him.)
Yeah. 
(She looks impressed. A soft splash, and she looks to Mulder — he shakes his head. Then a louder one, unignorable.)
SCULLY: What was that? 
MULDER: I don't know, but it ain't no duck. 
(They jump up yet again, guns raised. The lamp dies.)
FARRADAY: I thought I heard voices. What are you two doing out here?
SCULLY: Dr. Farraday?
FARRADAY: Hope I'm not interrupting anything.
SCULLY: No, no. we, uh... we had a little trouble with our boat.
MULDER: Actually, it sank.
FARRADAY: How'd that happen?
SCULLY: It was my fault. We would have been out here all night if you hadn't answered our distress call.
FARRADAY: Oh, I didn't. I was walking by, I heard you talking.
SCULLY: Walking by?
FARRADAY: Yeah. Yeah, the shore is just a stone's throw from here. Come on, I'll take you back. 
(Sure enough, the water around the rock is only a foot deep. Back on the shore, Scully stands wrapped in a blanket. Farraday hands Mulder their lantern, back on.)
Uh, it was just out of fuel. I think the sheriff will be along in a couple of minutes. I'd drive you myself, but I've got work to do.
SCULLY: What exactly is it that you're doing out here, Dr. Farraday? It's well after midnight.
FARRADAY: Well, night is Rana sphenocephala's most active period, and this is its primary breeding ground. Or at least it used to be. Thousands of eggs used to cling to these reeds, beautiful jelly clusters. Now one must turn over many a leaf in order to find potential offspring.
MULDER: What's in the sack?
FARRADAY: Adult frogs. I've been breeding them in captivity and releasing them into the wild.
SCULLY: This is Striker's Cove?
FARRADAY: Mm-hmm. 
MULDER: The frogs.
FARRADAY: I beg your pardon?
MULDER: The unexplained depletion of frogs originates from this cove. It's the food chain.
FARRADAY: What about it?
MULDER: Food chain. If you alter one life form in an ecosystem, the rest is necessarily affected, either by an increase or decrease. So if an aquatic dinosaur's diet consisted primarily of frogs, then if those frogs suddenly became scarce, it would have to turn to an alternative food source.
SCULLY: Humans.
FARRADAY: Agent Mulder, you are taking my legitimate research and basic biological principle and stretching them both way out of proportion in an effort to give some kind of validity to an entirely ludicrous theory. There is no prehistoric lake monster.
MULDER: This creature lives here in this cove. That explains the disappearance of these frogs, for which you have no explanation, Doctor — ludicrous or not. As well as the recent human attacks.
FARRADAY: That's crazy. If something was living in these waters, you don't think I would have seen it? I've been conducting research here for three years.
MULDER: I'm talking about a prehistoric animal that's gone unnoticed for virtually thousands of years. If it knows how do anything, it knows how to hide. They say the Loch Ness monster doesn't even live in the water, that it lives in the surrounding cliffs. Maybe Big Blue has an inland habitat somewhere in the rocks or in this dense forest here.
FARRADAY: I have no time for these absurdities. If you'll excuse me, I have some amphibians to release.
SCULLY: Well, captain, what now?
SHERIFF: Agent Scully! Agent Mulder! There’s been another death, and this time it does appear to be some kind of animal attack. Bit a fisherman's arm clean off.
MULDER: Where'd this happen?
SHERIFF: Other side of the lake, couple hours ago. My department has the cooperation of the state police, plus the full use of all the Wildlife, Fish and Game department vessels. I've got a full scale search already under way.
MULDER: No, no, we need those men here, searching this cove and these woods.
SHERIFF: But I got thirty boats on the water already. Now, if we're gonna kill this thing — 
MULDER: We gotta sweep this cove. It's here in Striker's Cove.
SHERIFF: The boats are searching the area of the latest attack, and I'm not going to move them. Now, if you wanna waste your time conducting a search of these woods, you go right ahead. I got me a lake monster to catch.
(A dispatcher speaks over his radio. He turns to leave.)
SCULLY: Sheriff. Agent Mulder and I would appreciate it if you could spare us two or three of your men to assist us here.
SHERIFF: All right, I'll send them on down.
(He leaves. Mulder turns to Scully.)
MULDER: Thanks.
(From off in the distance, the sound of leaves rustling and a scream.)
SCULLY: What was that?
MULDER: Dr. Farraday.
===SCENE 10===
(Frogs croak as Scully and Mulder run up to a pile of bloodied clothing on the forest floor. They hear a scream in the distance. Following it, find Farraday, who's sitting up against the base of a tree.)
MULDER: What happened?
FARRADAY: My leg, something grabbed my leg.
MULDER: Did you see it?
FARRADAY: No. 
(Scully sets to work examining his wound. He groans.)
It came from behind me. Before I knew it it had me — shaking me back and forth. Then it just let go.
SCULLY: Give me your belt. 
(His leg is a mess. She prepares a tourniquet.)
FARRADAY: I didn't want to believe you. 
SCULLY: I think you nicked an artery. We've got to get him to a hospital, he's losing blood. 
MULDER: Where'd it go?
FARRADAY: I didn't see it, I didn't see it. I think I heard — it went through those reeds there.
SCULLY: Mulder, help is coming. 
MULDER: You take care of him, Scully. 
(He runs off into the woods.)
SCULLY: Mulder!
(Mulder stalks through the dark forest, flashlight in one hand and gun in the other. In a breath, the night's insect noises are silenced. Feeling a presence, he whirls around, pointing his gun at... a frog. He sighs and continues forth — now pursued by something, stalking him under cover of thick ferns. And then it's after him, felling trees in its path to attack. He turns to run and trips over a root. As it rushes at him, he fires again and again until he's out of ammo. Finally, panting, he stares at the slain beast before him.)
MULDER: Alligator. 
(Scully watches as Farraday is hooked up to an IV in the back of an ambulance. The door closes.)
DISPATCHER (voice): Milikan County EMT Unit 3, we're prepped and ready...
SHERIFF: All right, then, go ahead.
(The ambulance pulls out. Scully leaves to join Mulder, standing at the edge of the lake. Frogs croon and the water ripples in the moonlight.)
MULDER: How's Dr Farraday?
SCULLY: He'll be fine. How are you?
MULDER: I'm fine.
SCULLY: Well, you slew the big white whale, Ahab.
MULDER: Yeah, but I still don't have that peg leg.
SCULLY: How can you be disappointed? That alligator would have gone through the local population if you hadn't killed it.
MULDER: I know. I guess I just wanted Big Blue to be real. I guess I see hope in such a possibility.
SCULLY: Well, there's still hope. That's why these myths and stories have endured. People want to believe. 
(Scully leaves. He stays staring at the brilliant glint of the moon on the water for a moment longer. But then he turns away a moment too soon and he, too, misses it: the real Big Blue, still out there, swims by. A perfect, classic lake monster.)
[THE END] 
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