Showing posts with label Scully. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Scully. Show all posts

Tuesday 10 November 2020

The Old Man from Scene 24






SCENE 24
(Cave entrance. MULDER and SCULLY make their way through the narrow passageway at the mouth of the cave. They're led there by the old Indian Woman. At the end where it opens up into a living space, an old white-haired man sits there waiting for them.)
(MULDER enters first followed by SCULLY.)
CSM: What's the matter, Agent Mulder?
(CSM / C.G.B. SPENDER takes a drag of the cigarette through the hole in his trachea.)
CSM: You come to see the wise man but you look as if you've seen a ghost.
MULDER: You're no wise man. You're a Dead Man. Just like Krycek and X.

CSM: You see a Dead Man, Agent Scully?

SCULLY: I hoped and prayed you were dead you chain-smoking, son of a bitch.

(MULDER looks more than a little shocked to see CSM still alive.)

CSM: 
You waste your time. Ask Mulder. 
He knows the futility of hopes and prayers. 
He knows The Truth now.

(SCULLY looks confused at what CSM'S saying. CSM zeroes in on this immediately and begins to exploit it as he's done so many times before.)


CSM: You have told her The Truth haven't you, Fox? I helped you find it.

MULDER: You didn't help me. You sent me to that government facility knowing exactly what I'd find.

CSM: And now you refuse to Speak it. 

Not to Scully, not to anyone. 

You've even refused to testify what you learned ... even though it would have saved your life. 

You damned me for my secrets ... but you're afraid to Speak The Truth.

(CSM takes another drag from his cigarette.)

MULDER: You call me afraid? Look at you sitting here alone in the dark like a fossil.

(CSM exhales a puff of smoke around him.)

CSM: It's the final refuge. The last place to hide from those who are insidiously taking power now.

SCULLY: Who?

CSM: The Aliens!


They fear this place ... its geology. Magnetite. Like that which brought down the original UFO in Roswell. Indian wise men realized this over 2,000 years ago. They hid here and watched their own culture die. The Original Shadow Government.

CUT TO:


Release The Hounds



"These puppies are of the same parents, but by virtue of a different bringing up The One is pampered, and The Other A Good Hound." 



Let so much suffice for habit and modes of life.



SCULLY :
You've always said that you 
Want to Believe. 
 
But Believe in WHAT, Mulder? 
 
If this is The Truth that you've been looking for then what is left to Believe in?

MULDER: 
I Want to Believe That The Dead Are Not Lost to Us.
 
That They Speak to Us as Part of Something Greater Than Us - Greater Than Any Alien Force. 
 
And if You and I are powerless now, 
I Want to Believe That if We LISTEN to What is SPEAKING --
 
It can Give Us The Power to Save Ourselves.

SCULLY :
 Then We Believe in 
The Same Thing.

She reaches down  to the gifted Gold that hangs on a chain around her neck, the same Golden totem that has hung there in plain sight for 9 whole seasons of Network Television without attracting ANY real notice or curious interest —  or not any from Mulder, at least — and she gently turns her Cross ever-so slightly, 45-degrees or so from the perpendicular —

It is an X. The Unknown and Unquantifiable, Endless-Nameless Mystery

 18 INT. SEWER - DAY 
Connor and Angel are walking through the sewers under Los Angeles.

CONNOR 
She's been down here.

ANGEL 
How old were you when you realised you could track like this?

CONNOR 
I don't know. Five, six. 
We didn't exactly celebrate birthdays in Quor-Toth. 
Holtz made up a game 
so I could practice.

ANGEL 
What do you mean he'd 
hide things for you to find?

CONNOR 
Kind of. 
He'd tie me to a tree 
and then run away.

ANGEL 
(shocked, stops walking
What?

CONNOR 
(shrugs
You know, so I'd have to escape 
and then find him. 
One time it only took me five days.

ANGEL 
Five days. 
He abandoned you... 
Connor, that's terrible
That's—

CONNOR 
(unfazed
Why I'm so good at tracking. 
Fred rested here for a while.




You do not Pass Judgment because you sympathize with Them --

A deprived childhood and a homicide really isn't necessarily a homicide, right? 

The Only thing you can blame is circumstances : Rapists and murderers may be the victims according to you, but I, I call them DOGS and if they're lapping up Their Own Vomit, The Only Way to Stop Them is with The Lash


But Dogs only obey 
Their Own Nature.
So why shouldn't 
we forgive them? 

DOGS can be taught Many Useful Things, but not, NOT if we Forgive Them every time They Obey Their Own Nature. 

So, I'm arrogant…
I'm arrogant because 
I forgive people? 

My God. Can't you see how condescending you are when you say that? 

You have this preconceived notion that nobody, LISTEN, that NOBODY can POSSIBLY attain the same High Ethical Standards as YOU, so you exonerate them.

I can not THINK of ANYTHING more arrogant, than that. 

You, My Child... My DEAR Child, you forgive Others with excuses that you would never in THE WORLD permit for yourself.

Why shouldn't  I be merciful? 
Why

No, no, no You SHOULD, you SHOULD be merciful, when there is TIME to be merciful. 

But you MUST maintain Your Own Standard,  You OWE them that, You OWE them that.

The penalty you deserve for your transgressions, they deserve for their transgressions.

They are Human Beings.

No, no, no  -- Does EVERY Human Being need to be accountable for their actions? 

Of COURSE they do. But you don't even give them THAT chance! 

And that is EXTREMELY arrogant -- I LOVE You, I LOVE You, I LOVE You to DEATH.... 

But you are The Most Arrogant Person I have ever met, and you call ME arrogant! 

I Have No More 
to Say. 






Full shot. 
Planetarium seen from The Parking Lot--a Great Dome crowns it -- The City lies Below.
 Camera picks up JIM STARK'S car maneuvering through the crowded lot. In b.g. a few other late-comers are dashing up steps to Planetarium. 
JIM drives into a small lot behind observator, parks, then runs to observatory entrance.

Full shot. 
Lobby as JIM runs through, opens door of theater and passes inside.

Long shot. 
Sky Full of Stars seen past JIM's Head.
Darkness. This is not Our Sky. 
It is a replica of it projected onto The Dome of The Planetarium. 
 
The Stars slide their tentative ways in an ever-changing pattern. 
 
One of them is much larger than The Rest and increases in size as we watch. 
Music of The Spheres is heard -- a high threatening tremolo.

 LECTURER (O.S.)
 For many days before The End of Our
 Earth, People will look into The  Night Sky and notice a star,  increasingly bright and increasingly near.


JIM looks around for a seat and passes down aisle. 
Seen beyond him is the projector, moving slowly, its great dumb-bell head sparkling with pin-points of light. 
JIM takes a seat in front row. 
PLATO, in the row behind him, moves over
a seat to be nearer. They exchange looks.

Full shot. 
Normal students watching intently.

 LECTURER (O.S.)
 As This Star approaches Us, The Weather will change. 
 
The Great Polar fields of The North and South  will rot and divide, and The Seas
 will turn warmer.

Low angle. 
LECTURER
A dry, Elderly Man in a stiff white
collar. 
He is seated at a desk, the light from the reading lamp spilling upward onto his face.

 LECTURER
 The Last of Us search The Heavens and Stand Amazed. For The Stars will still be there, moving through their ancient rhythms.

Angle shot. 
Students. Some watching, some taking notes.
An OLD LADY TEACHER in f.g. taps the heads of two kids in the row before her. 
They stop their whispering.
 She smiles at them.

 LECTURER (O.S.)

 The familiar constellations that  illuminate our night will seem as  they have always seemed, eternal,  unchanged and little moved by the shortness of time between Our Planet's Birth and its Demise.

Med. shot. PLATO staring upward.

 LECTURER (O.S.)
 Orion, The Hunter.

PLATO looks off.

Med. shot. JIM (from PLATO's angle). 
JIM is seated in the row ahead of PLATO. 
His lips are parted as he looks up.

 JIM

 Boy!

 PLATO

 (leaning forward)
 What?

 JIM

 (surprised)
 Once you been Up There
you know  you been 
Some Place!

 LECTURER (O.S.)
 Gemini, the Twins.

Two shot. JUDY and BUZZ. 
BUZZ has his arm around her. 
He is nuzzling her ear. 
She is blandly watching The Dome.

 LECTURER (O.S.)
 (continuing)
 Cancer, the Crab.

BUZZ pokes JUDY who looks at him. 
He curves his wrist toward her, opening and closing his first two fingers like
the pincers of a crab.





“Maybe There’s Hope.”, said Special Agent Fox "Spooky" Mulder,
Once-More Enunciating The Stated Truth.
 
"Maybe There's Hope."
And So There Was.

And It was Good.
Good it is,
and remains Good still.

[Fade to Black]






Dear Clarice,

I have followed with enthusiasm the course of your disgrace and public shaming.

My own never bothered me, except for the inconvenience of being incarcerated, but you may lack perspective.

In our discussions down in The Dungeon, it was apparent to me that Your Father, The Dead Night Watchman, figures largely in your value system.

I think your success in putting an end to Jame Gumb's career as a couturier pleased you most because you could imagine your father being pleased.

But now, alas, you're in bad odour with the FBI.

Do you imagine your daddy being shamed by your disgrace?

Do you see him in his plain pine box crushed by your failure?

The sorry, petty end of a promising career?

What is worst about this humiliation, Clarice?

Is it how your failure will reflect on your mommy and daddy?

Is your worst fear that people will now and forever believe they were, indeed, just good old trailer-camp, tornado-bait, white trash, and that perhaps you are, too?

Mmm?

By the way, I couldn't help noticing on the FBI's rather dull public website, that I have been hoisted from the Bureau's archives of the common criminal, and elevated to the more prestigious Ten Most Wanted list.

Is this coincidence, or are you back on the case?

If so, goody, goody, 'cause I need to come out of retirement and return to Public Life.

I imagine you sitting in a dark basement room, bent over papers and computer screens.

Is that accurate? Please tell me truly, Special Agent Starling.

Regards, your old pal,
Hannibal Lecter, M.D.

 
 
P.S., clearly this new assignment is not your choice.

Rather, I suppose it is part of the bargain, but you accepted it, Clarice.

Your job is to craft my doom, so I am not sure how well I should wish you, but I'm sure we'll have a lot of fun.

Ta-ta. 

"H."


"To speak generally, what we are wont to say about the arts and sciences is also true of moral excellence, for to its perfect development three things must meet together, natural ability, theory, and practice. 


By theory I mean training, and by practice working at one's craft. 


Now the foundation must be laid in training, and practice gives facility, but perfection is attained only by the junction of all three. For if any one of these elements be wanting, excellence must be so far deficient. 


For natural ability without training is blind: and training without natural ability is defective, and practice without both natural ability and training is imperfect


For just as in farming the first requisite is good soil, next a good farmer, next good seed, so also here: the soil corresponds to natural ability, the training to the farmer, the seed to precepts and instruction. 


I should therefore maintain stoutly that these three elements were found combined in the souls of such universally famous men as Pythagoras, and Socrates, and Plato, and of all who have won undying fame. Happy at any rate and dear to the gods is he to whom any deity has vouchsafed all these elements! 


But if anyone thinks that those who have not good natural ability cannot to some extent make up for the deficiencies of Nature by Right Training and Practice, let such a one know that he is very wide of The Mark, if not out of it altogether. 


For good natural parts are impaired by sloth; while inferior ability is mended by training: and while simple things escape the eyes of the careless, difficult things are reached by painstaking. 


The wonderful efficacy and power of long and continuous labour you may see indeed every day in the world around you.


Thus water continually dropping wears away rocks: and iron and steel are moulded by the hands of the artificer: and chariot wheels bent by some strain can never recover their original symmetry: and the crooked staves of actors can never be made straight. 


But by toil what is contrary to nature becomes stronger than even nature itself. 


And are these the only things that teach The Power of Diligence? 


Not so: ten thousand things teach the same Truth. 


A soil naturally good becomes by neglect barren, and the better its original condition, the worse its ultimate state if uncared for. 


On the other hand a soil exceedingly rough and sterile by being farmed well produces excellent crops. 


And what trees do not by neglect become gnarled and unfruitful, whereas by pruning they become fruitful and productive? 


And what constitution so good but it is marred and impaired by sloth, luxury, and too full habit? 


And what weak constitution has not derived benefit from exercise and athletics? 


And what horses broken in young are not docile to their riders? while if they are not broken in till late they become hard-mouthed and unmanageable


And why should we be surprised at similar cases, seeing that we find many of the savagest animals docile and tame by training? 


Rightly answered the Thessalian, who was asked who the mildest Thessalians were, "Those who have done with fighting."


But why pursue the line of argument further? For the Greek name for moral virtue is only habit : and if anyone defines moral virtues as habitual virtues, he will not be beside The Mark. But I will employ only one more illustration, and dwell no longer on this topic. 


Lycurgus, the Lacedæmonian legislator, took Two Puppies of The Same Parents, and brought them up in an entirely different way : The One he pampered and cosseted up, while he taught The Other to Hunt and be A Retriever. 


Then on one occasion, when the Lacedæmonians were convened in assembly, he said, "Mighty, O Lacedæmonians, is the influence on moral excellence of habit, and education, and training, and modes of life, as I will prove to you at once." 


So saying he produced The Two Puppies, and set before them A Platter and A Hare : The One darted on The Hare, while The Other made for The Platter. 


And when the Lacedæmonians could not guess what his meaning was, or with what intent he had produced the puppies, he said, 


"These puppies are of the same parents, but by virtue of a different bringing up The One is pampered, and The Other A Good Hound." 


Let so much suffice for Habit and Modes of Life.


Thursday 5 December 2019

9




(The phone rings in REYES' bedroom. Her alarm clock shows the time as 9:09. REYES' picks up. The screen splits in half.)


REYES: (into phone) 

Hello?


SCULLY: (into phone) 

All right. I need to know.


REYES: (into phone) 

What?


SCULLY: (into phone) 

What my numerology is. 

My number. Whatever you call it. 

What am I?


REYES: (into phone) 

You're a nine.


SCULLY: (into phone) 

Which means what?


REYES: (into phone) 

Nine is completion. 

You've evolved through the experiences of all the other numbers to a spiritual realisation that this life is only part of a larger whole.


(SCULLY is silent, and looks happy at what she's hearing.)




MULDER: 
Have you heard of Jerusalem Syndrome?

SCULLY: 
Yeah, it's when people who visit the Holy Land suffer religious delusions induced by the journey.

MULDER: 
Yeah, they return home convinced they're the Messiah, Moses, The Virgin Mary, even The Devil himself. 
Well, if that's what Simon Gates believes, he's just as delusional as Michael Kryder, only a lot more dangerous.

SCULLY: 
Yeah, but it still doesn't explain how he was able to burn his fingerprints into Owen Jarvis' flesh.

Sunday 13 October 2019

World X-Files Day




SKINNER: 
I can't represent you.

MULDER: 
You know all the facts, the details the whole government conspiracy. 
(MULDER looks at SKINNER.) 
More than that, 

I TRUST YOU.

(SKINNER is stunned silent by the weight of MULDER'S complete faith in him ... of MULDER'S willingness to put his life in SKINNER'S hands.)

SCULLY: 
Mulder ...

MULDER: 
They can't try me without exposing themselves. I know what I'm doing.



SCENE 23 
TEXAS-NEW MEXICO BORDER 
5:07 AM
(The SUV driven by MULDER makes it was down the road. It pulls off to the side.)

(MULDER cuts the engine, leans toward SCULLY who is sleeping and gently kisses her cheek. He gets out of the car.)

(MULDER unzips his pants and relieves himself, when ...)

FROHIKE: Hey, hot shot! You might have the common courtesy of doing your business there downwind.

MULDER: Oh, boy.

LANGLY: Why don't you just finish draining the little lizard and then we'll talk?

BYERS: We're very worried about you.

FROHIKE: It's craziness, man. Turn around.

LANGLEY: Just hang a big U-ie and never look back.

MULDER: I can't.

BYERS: Why risk perfect happiness, Mulder? Why risk your lives?

MULDER: Because I need to know the truth.

BYERS: You already know the truth.

(MULDER thinks about that one for a moment. When he responds, its with complete honesty at what he's really doing there.)

MULDER: I need to know if I can change it.

LANGLY: Change it?

FROHIKE: For crying out loud. All you're going to do is get yourself killed.

(From behind him, SCULLY got out of the car to look for MULDER.)

SCULLY: Mulder! What are you doing?

MULDER: I'll be right with you, Scully.

(They both get back into the car.)

CUT TO:

(Day. The road they're driving on will soon end at a hidden pueblo carved into the side of a mountain.)

(MULDER stops the car. They both get out. SCULLY looks around.)

SCULLY: What are they?

MULDER: Pueblos. Anasazi Indian. Abandoned 2,000 years ago. Nobody knows why.

SCULLY: Yeah, Mulder, but what are we doing here?

(MULDER points high to the window of a ruin along the way. There's smoking coming out from the window. Someone is there.)

(MULDER heads off in that direction. SCULLY follows. They both begin to climb up to meet the Keeper of the Truth.)

CUT TO:

(Inside on of the pueblos. An old Indian woman tends to the fire. MULDER and SCULLY enter the area where she lives.)

MULDER: Hello. My name is Fox Mulder. Do you understand me?

(The old woman looks at MULDER. Without a word, she rises from her chair and pushes the cloth curtain back and disappears behind it.

(SCULLY moves up from behind MULDER and passes him bringing her closer to the curtain. She turns around to look at MULDER.)

SCULLY: Mulder, what is it?

MULDER: I was sent a message and a key to the government facility at Mount Weather. The Indians said it was from a wise man who lived in the ruins: A Keeper of the Truth.

CUT TO:

(REYES and DOGGETT are traveling by helicopter above, doing a visual search for MULDER and SCULLY based upon the information given to them by GIBSON PRAISE.)

REYES: Do you see anything at all?

(DOGGETT shakes his head and continues to scan the grounds below.)

CUT TO:




SCENE 24
(Cave entrance. MULDER and SCULLY make their way through the narrow passageway at the mouth of the cave. They're led there by the old Indian Woman. At the end where it opens up into a living space, an old white-haired man sits there waiting for them.)

(MULDER enters first followed by SCULLY.)

CSM: What's the matter, Agent Mulder?

(CSM / C.G.B. SPENDER takes a drag of the cigarette through the hole in his trachea.)

CSM: You come to see the wise man but you look as if you've seen a ghost.

MULDER: You're no wise man. You're a dead man. Just like Krycek and X.

CSM: You see a dead man, Agent Scully?

SCULLY: I hoped and prayed you were dead you chain-smoking, son of a bitch.

(MULDER looks more than a little shocked to see CSM still alive.)

CSM: You waste your time. Ask Mulder. He knows the futility of hopes and prayers. He knows the truth now.

(SCULLY looks confused at what CSM'S saying. CSM zeroes in on this immediately and begins to exploit it as he's done so many times before.)

CSM: You have told her the truth haven't you, Fox? I helped you find it.

MULDER: You didn't help me. You sent me to that government facility knowing exactly what I'd find.

CSM: And now you refuse to speak it. Not to Scully, not to anyone. You've even refused to testify what you learned ... even though it would have saved your life. You damned me for my secrets ... but you're afraid to speak the truth.

(CSM takes another drag from his cigarette.)

MULDER: You call me afraid? Look at you sitting here alone in the dark like a fossil.

(CSM exhales a puff of smoke around him.)

CSM: It's the final refuge. The last place to hide from those who are insidiously taking power now.

SCULLY: Who?

CSM: The aliens. They fear this place ... its geology. Magnetite. Like that which brought down the original UFO in Roswell. Indian wise men realized this over 2,000 years ago. They hid here and watched their own culture die. The Original Shadow Government.

CUT TO:




SCENE 25
(Outside the pueblos. The helicopter (#N218SS) carrying DOGGETT and REYES land outside the Anasazi Pueblos. They've found MULDER and SCULLY'S SUV. They both get out of the helicopter and it takes off leaving them there.)

(REYES sees an ominous-looking black SUV make its way toward them. There's a lone driver in it.)

REYES: Agent Doggett!

DOGGETT: Who the hell's that?

(It's KNOWLE ROHRER. DOGGETT and REYES both look worried as the dead man lives once again.)

CUT TO:




SCENE 26
(Back inside the pueblo, CSM takes a drag from his cigarette.)

CSM: It leaves me to tell you what Mulder's afraid to, Agent Scully.

MULDER: Come on, let's go.

(SCULLY doesn't budge,)

CSM: It's a scary story. You want to come sit on my lap?

SCULLY: You don't scare me.

CSM: My story's scared every president since Truman in '47.

MULDER: You don't have to hear this.

SCULLY: No, I want to hear it, Mulder.

CSM: Ten centuries ago the Mayans were so afraid that their calendar stopped on the exact date that my story begins. December 22, the year 2012. The date of the final alien invasion. Mulder can confirm the date. He saw it at Mount Weather ... ...where our own "Secret Government" will be hiding when it all comes down.

(SCULLY looks at MULDER. He doesn't take his eyes off of CSM. CSM has a wild glint in his eye - almost a crazed look.)

MULDER: Yeah, you smile ... feeling drunk with power. The power to do nothing.

CSM: My power comes from telling you. Seeing your powerlessness hearing it. They wanted to kill you, Fox. I protected you all these years ... waiting for this moment ... to see you broken. Afraid.

(MULDER lifts his head and schools his features to reveal nothing.)

CSM: Now you can die.

CUT TO:




SCENE 27
(Two heavily armed black ops helicopters are flying low along the roadway head to the Anasazi Pueblos.)

CUT BACK TO:




SCENE 28
(Outside the pueblos, KNOWLE ROHRER advances on DOGGETT and REYES who continue to back up slowly. Soon they won't have any room to back up anymore. DOGGETT reaches for his gun. REYES reaches for hers. They both hold it on ROHRER knowing full well that it'll be useless.)

DOGGETT: Run, Monica. Get out of here.

REYES : No.

(DOGGETT glances at REYES, accepting her decision to stand next to him.)

DOGGETT (to ROHRER): Knowle Rohrer. That's far enough.

(ROHRER continues to advance. An arrogant smugness about him.)

ROHRER: Shoot me, Agent Doggett, if you think it'll make a difference this time.

(DOGGETT fires. The bullet harmlessly hits ROHRER in the chest. He continues to stand there with the smugness about him.)

(DOGGETT and REYES both continue to back up as KNOWLE ROHRER continues to advance toward them.)

(They've run out of room behind them. ROHRER, on the other hand, has also stopped advancing. In fact, he seems to be struggling to move forward. A confused look on his face.)

(DOGGETT lowers his weapon. Something is happening to ROHRER. He's starting to spasm, He lifts his arms, unable to control their shaking. Black metallic oxidation appears on the skin under his arms and rapidly spreads.)

(DOGGETT and REYES watch as the metal within ROHRER becomes the metal without. ROHRER looks afraid. When the metal completely covers his exterior, ROHRER is sucked into the rocks. DOGGETT pushes REYES out of ROHRER'S path.)

(ROHRER smashes into the rock. REYES looks completely shocked at what she just witnessed.)

MULDER: Agent Doggett!

(Both MULDER and SCULLY appear outside the second level doorway.)

DOGGETT: Mulder, get out of there!

REYES: They know where you are!

CUT TO:

(The two black helicopters continue their path to the ruins. We see they are both very heavily armed.)

CUT BACK TO:

(DOGGETT and REYES climb into MULDER and SCULLY'S vehicle and drive it closer to MULDER and SCULLY as they make their way down the ruins.)

(MULDER runs alongside their vehicle as they approach. DOGGETT stops the car.)

MULDER: Get out of here!

DOGGETT: Get in the car.

MULDER: No!

(DOGGETT looks a little confused. They don't have much time. MULDER tells them again to leave.)

MULDER: (insistent) Go! Go!

(MULDER and SCULLY both run to the other vehicle at the site. The vehicle left behind by KNOWLE ROHRER. DOGGETT takes off.)

CUT TO:

(The helicopters are rapidly approaching the site. They're still not in view of the ruins.)

CUT BACK TO:

(MULDER and SCULLY get in the abandoned vehicle and take off in a different direction from DOGGETT and REYES. They disappear from their view around the hill.)

CUT TO:

(The helicopters round the mountain side. MULDER and SCULLY barely escape detection. The helicopters position themselves across the ruins.)

CUT TO:

(The old Indian Woman inside the pueblo panics as her pots and pans rattle at the disturbance. The helicopters hover just outside her window.)

(They fire missile after missile aimed at the ruins, destroying them whole sections at a time in fiery explosions.)

(The old Indian Woman screams.)

CUT TO:

(CSM sits inside his final "refuge", a cigarette in his hand.)

(The pueblos explode with each missile fired. The ancient stones crumble to the ground. Fire burns what little there is to burn.)

(The black helicopters swing around and hover just outside the old Indian Woman's windows. A dreamcatcher hangs from the window with the black helicopter in its sites.)

(Another missile is fired and another portion of the ruins destroyed.)

(Inside, CSM takes a last drag from his cigarette. He throws the remainder on the ground.)

(Outside, in perfect positions, the black helicopter hovers. A final missile is fired finding its intended target. The corridor and the cave fill with fire consuming the once-powerful man within.)

(The pueblos explode. Missiles upon missiles are fired until the entire mountainside is decimated. Their mission complete, the helicopters turn around and fly off into the horizon.)

CUT TO:




SCENE 29 
ROSWELL, NEW MEXICO
(Night. Outside a motel room, it's raining. Thunder rumbles. )

(Inside, MULDER is sitting on the floor, leaning back against the bed and his head resting back.)

SCULLY (o.s.): What are you thinking?

(MULDER is silent. Thoughtful.)

SCULLY: Mulder?

MULDER: I'm thinking ... I'm a guilty man. I've failed in every respect. I deserve the harshest punishment for my crimes.

SCULLY: (softly) You don't believe that.

(Mulder sighs.)

MULDER: I believe that I sat in a motel room like this with you when we first met and I tried to convince you of the truth. And in that respect, I succeeded, but ... in every other way ...

(MULDER turns to look at SCULLY)

MULDER: ... I've failed.

SCULLY: You don't believe that, either.

MULDER: Mmmm.

MULDER: I've been chasing after monsters with a butterfly net. You heard the man - the date's set. I can't change that.

SCULLY: You wouldn't tell me. Not because you were afraid or broken .... but because you didn't want to accept defeat.

MULDER: Well, I was afraid of what knowing would do to you.

(MULDER turns to look at SCULLY and confesses one of his greatest fears.)

MULDER: I was afraid that it would crush your spirit.

SCULLY: Why would I accept defeat? Why would I accept it, if you won't? Mulder, you say that you've failed but you only fail if you give up. And I know you -- you can't give up. It's what I saw in you when we first met. It's what made me follow you ... why I'd do it all over again.

MULDER: And look what it's gotten you.

SCULLY: And what has it gotten you? Not your sister. Nothing that you've set out for. But you won't give up, even now.

(SCULLY reaches out and takes hold of MULDER'S hand in a firm grip.)

SCULLY: You've always said that you want to believe. But believe in what Mulder? If this is the truth that you've been looking for then what is left to believe in?

MULDER: I want to believe that the dead are not lost to us. That they speak to us as part of something greater than us - greater than any alien force. And if you and I are powerless now, I want to believe that if we listen to what's speaking, it can give us the power to save ourselves.

SCULLY: Then we believe the same thing.

(SCULLY watches MULDER intently . MULDER looks like he Believes. SCULLY smiles at MULDER. MULDER reaches over and lightly picks up SCULLY'S cross. He reaches up and caresses her lips.)

(MULDER gets off of the floor and settles himself in bed next to SCULLY. He wraps himself around her, so that they are now holding each other closely.)

MULDER: (whispers) Maybe there's hope.

[Fade to black]

[THE *END*]







Tuesday 8 October 2019

Siddhi



KING LEAR
Doth any here know me? This is not Lear:
Doth Lear walk thus? speak thus? Where are his eyes?
Either his notion weakens, his discernings
Are lethargied--Ha! waking? 'tis not so.

Who is it that can tell me who I am?

Fool
Lear's Shadow.
















Scene 11 
X-Files office. The TV monitor is playing a tape of an Indian man sticking a burning torch into his mouth. 
CHUCK BURKS is showing it to SCULLY and DOGGETT.

CHUCK BURKS: 
They take religious devotion to an extreme.
They're called Fakir-- ascetic masters bound to acts of self-torture to attain enlightenment.

(Another image of an Indian man who has done some really weird and painful-looking stretching and piercing of his face.)

CHUCK BURKS: 
We shot this video when I was traveling through India back in the late '70s... 
Oh, man, look at my hair back then.

(On the video, a YOUNG CHUCK BURKS with very long dark hair grins and flashes a peace sign at the camera as another Indian messes around with a very dangerous looking snake.)

SCULLY: 
Agent Mulder consulted with Dr. Burks on occasion and I have to admit that I've been skeptical of him in the past but he does have certain insights.

DOGGETT: 
Well, we could use some insights.

CHUCK BURKS: 
Uh, well, I-I'm embarrassed to admit but I-I'm not sure I know what the heck's going on here.

SCULLY: 
These ascetic masters... they have abilities?

CHUCK BURKS: 
Oh, absolutely. 
An-and abilities similar to those you told me about on the phone have been ascribed to what are know as Siddhi mystics. 
The Siddhi are a very mysterious and particularly powerful order of Fakirs. 
These Siddhi, they pass on their secret practices from father to son 
gaining occult powers with each generation.

DOGGETT: 
What kind of powers?

(DOGGETT is not impressed with CHUCK BURKS. SCULLY is listening intently.)

CHUCK BURKS: 
Powers of the mind. 
Powers that help them manipulate reality. 
Powers that allow them to become invisible 
or tiny as an atom.

DOGGETT: 
Well, I hope they're tiny. 
Where, whoever it is, is going.

(SCULLY gives DOGGETT a look, then turns back to CHUCK BURKS.)

SCULLY: 
Chuck... Could one of these Siddhi mystics make you believe that he vanished in a room when in fact, he's standing right in front of you?

CHUCK BURKS: 
Totally. Or disguise themselves appearing in front of you as, uh, well, virtually anyone.

DOGGETT: 
I'm sorry, Dr. Burks, you're a... 
you're a professor of what?

CHUCK BURKS: 
I run the Advanced Digital Imaging lab at the University of Maryland. 
And, um, I dabble.

DOGGETT: 
You dabble. 
(to SCULLY, sarcastic) 
Well, this has been... insightful.

(DOGGETT leaves the room. CHUCK BURKS watches him go.)

CHUCK BURKS: 
Doesn't surprise me.

SCULLY: What?

CHUCK BURKS: 
It's hard to believe in something when you can't understand it.

(SCULLY nods slowly.)





KING LEAR
Now, my friendly knave, I thank thee: there's
earnest of thy service.

Giving KENT money

Enter Fool

Fool
Let me hire him too: here's my coxcomb.

Offering KENT his cap

KING LEAR
How now, my pretty knave! how dost thou?

Fool
Sirrah, you were best take my coxcomb.

KENT
Why, fool?

Fool
Why, for taking one's part that's out of favour:
nay, an thou canst not smile as the wind sits,
thou'lt catch cold shortly: there, take my coxcomb:
why, this fellow has banished two on's daughters,
and did the third a blessing against his will; if
thou follow him, thou must needs wear my coxcomb.
How now, nuncle! Would I had two coxcombs and two daughters!

KING LEAR
Why, my boy?

Fool
If I gave them all my living, I'ld keep my coxcombs
myself. There's mine; beg another of thy daughters.

KING LEAR
Take heed, sirrah; the whip.

Fool
Truth's a dog must to kennel; he must be whipped
out, when Lady the brach may stand by the fire and stink.

KING LEAR
A pestilent gall to me!

Fool
Sirrah, I'll teach thee a speech.

KING LEAR
Do.

Fool
Mark it, nuncle:
Have more than thou showest,
Speak less than thou knowest,
Lend less than thou owest,
Ride more than thou goest,
Learn more than thou trowest,
Set less than thou throwest;
Leave thy drink and thy whore,
And keep in-a-door,
And thou shalt have more
Than two tens to a score.

KENT
This is nothing, fool.

Fool
Then 'tis like the breath of an unfee'd lawyer; you
gave me nothing for't. Can you make no use of
nothing, nuncle?

KING LEAR
Why, no, boy; nothing can be made out of nothing.

Fool
[To KENT] 
Prithee, tell him, so much the rent of
his land comes to: he will not believe a fool.

KING LEAR
A bitter fool!

Fool
Dost thou know the difference, my boy, between a
bitter fool and a sweet fool?

KING LEAR
No, lad; teach me.

Fool
That lord that counsell'd thee
To give away thy land,
Come place him here by me,
Do thou for him stand:
The sweet and bitter fool
Will presently appear;
The one in motley here,
The other found out there.

KING LEAR
Dost thou call me fool, boy?

Fool
All thy other titles thou hast given away; that
thou wast born with.

KENT
This is not altogether fool, my lord.

Fool
No, faith, lords and great men will not let me; if
I had a monopoly out, they would have part on't:
and ladies too, they will not let me have all fool
to myself; they'll be snatching. Give me an egg,
nuncle, and I'll give thee two crowns.

KING LEAR
What two crowns shall they be?

Fool
Why, after I have cut the egg i' the middle, and eat
up the meat, the two crowns of the egg. When thou
clovest thy crown i' the middle, and gavest away
both parts, thou borest thy ass on thy back o'er
the dirt: thou hadst little wit in thy bald crown,
when thou gavest thy golden one away. If I speak
like myself in this, let him be whipped that first
finds it so.
Singing

Fools had ne'er less wit in a year;
For wise men are grown foppish,
They know not how their wits to wear,
Their manners are so apish.

KING LEAR
When were you wont to be so full of songs, sirrah?

Fool
I have used it, nuncle, ever since thou madest thy
daughters thy mothers: for when thou gavest them
the rod, and put'st down thine own breeches,
Singing

Then they for sudden joy did weep,
And I for sorrow sung,
That such a king should play bo-peep,
And go the fools among.
Prithee, nuncle, keep a schoolmaster that can teach
thy fool to lie: I would fain learn to lie.

KING LEAR
An you lie, sirrah, we'll have you whipped.

Fool
I marvel what kin thou and thy daughters are:
they'll have me whipped for speaking true, thou'lt
have me whipped for lying; and sometimes I am
whipped for holding my peace. I had rather be any
kind o' thing than a fool: and yet I would not be
thee, nuncle; thou hast pared thy wit o' both sides,
and left nothing i' the middle: here comes one o'
the parings.

Enter GONERIL

KING LEAR
How now, daughter! what makes that frontlet on?
Methinks you are too much of late i' the frown.

Fool
Thou wast a pretty fellow when thou hadst no need to
care for her frowning; now thou art an O without a
figure: I am better than thou art now; I am a fool,
thou art nothing.

To GONERIL

Yes, forsooth, I will hold my tongue; so your face
bids me, though you say nothing. Mum, mum,
He that keeps nor crust nor crum,
Weary of all, shall want some.

Pointing to KING LEAR

That's a shealed peascod.

GONERIL
Not only, sir, this your all-licensed fool,
But other of your insolent retinue
Do hourly carp and quarrel; breaking forth
In rank and not-to-be endured riots. Sir,
I had thought, by making this well known unto you,
To have found a safe redress; but now grow fearful,
By what yourself too late have spoke and done.
That you protect this course, and put it on
By your allowance; which if you should, the fault
Would not 'scape censure, nor the redresses sleep,
Which, in the tender of a wholesome weal,
Might in their working do you that offence,
Which else were shame, that then necessity
Will call discreet proceeding.

Fool
For, you trow, nuncle,
The hedge-sparrow fed the cuckoo so long,
That it's had it head bit off by it young.
So, out went the candle, and we were left darkling.

KING LEAR
Are you our daughter?

GONERIL
Come, sir,
I would you would make use of that good wisdom,
Whereof I know you are fraught; and put away
These dispositions, that of late transform you
From what you rightly are.

Fool
May not an ass know when the cart
draws the horse? Whoop, Jug! I love thee.

KING LEAR
Doth any here know me? This is not Lear:
Doth Lear walk thus? speak thus? Where are his eyes?
Either his notion weakens, his discernings
Are lethargied--Ha! waking? 'tis not so.
Who is it that can tell me who I am?

Fool
Lear's shadow.

KING LEAR
I would learn that; for, by the
marks of sovereignty, knowledge, and reason,
I should be false persuaded I had daughters.

Fool
Which they will make an obedient father.

KING LEAR
Your name, fair gentlewoman?

GONERIL
This admiration, sir, is much o' the savour
Of other your new pranks. I do beseech you
To understand my purposes aright:
As you are old and reverend, you should be wise.
Here do you keep a hundred knights and squires;
Men so disorder'd, so debosh'd and bold,
That this our court, infected with their manners,
Shows like a riotous inn: epicurism and lust
Make it more like a tavern or a brothel
Than a graced palace. The shame itself doth speak
For instant remedy: be then desired
By her, that else will take the thing she begs,
A little to disquantity your train;
And the remainder, that shall still depend,
To be such men as may besort your age,
And know themselves and you.

KING LEAR
Darkness and devils!
Saddle my horses; call my train together:
Degenerate bastard! I'll not trouble thee.
Yet have I left a daughter.

GONERIL
You strike my people; and your disorder'd rabble

Make servants of their betters.

Enter ALBANY

KING LEAR
Woe, that too late repents,--

To ALBANY

O, sir, are you come?
Is it your will? Speak, sir. Prepare my horses.
Ingratitude, thou marble-hearted fiend,
More hideous when thou show'st thee in a child
Than the sea-monster!

ALBANY
Pray, sir, be patient.

KING LEAR
[To GONERIL] 
Detested kite! thou liest.
My train are men of choice and rarest parts,
That all particulars of duty know,
And in the most exact regard support
The worships of their name. O most small fault,
How ugly didst thou in Cordelia show!
That, like an engine, wrench'd my frame of nature
From the fix'd place; drew from heart all love,
And added to the gall. O Lear, Lear, Lear!
Beat at this gate, that let thy folly in,
Striking his head

And thy dear judgment out! Go, go, my people.

ALBANY
My lord, I am guiltless, as I am ignorant
Of what hath moved you.

KING LEAR
It may be so, my lord.
Hear, nature, hear; dear goddess, hear!
Suspend thy purpose, if thou didst intend
To make this creature fruitful!
Into her womb convey sterility!
Dry up in her the organs of increase;
And from her derogate body never spring
A babe to honour her! If she must teem,
Create her child of spleen; that it may live,
And be a thwart disnatured torment to her!
Let it stamp wrinkles in her brow of youth;
With cadent tears fret channels in her cheeks;
Turn all her mother's pains and benefits
To laughter and contempt; that she may feel
How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is
To have a thankless child! Away, away!
Exit

ALBANY
Now, gods that we adore, whereof comes this?

GONERIL
Never afflict yourself to know the cause;
But let his disposition have that scope
That dotage gives it.

Re-enter KING LEAR

KING LEAR
What, fifty of my followers at a clap!
Within a fortnight!

ALBANY
What's the matter, sir?

KING LEAR
I'll tell thee:

To GONERIL
Life and death! I am ashamed
That thou hast power to shake my manhood thus;
That these hot tears, which break from me perforce,
Should make thee worth them. Blasts and fogs upon thee!
The untented woundings of a father's curse
Pierce every sense about thee! Old fond eyes,
Beweep this cause again, I'll pluck ye out,
And cast you, with the waters that you lose,
To temper clay. Yea, it is come to this?
Let is be so: yet have I left a daughter,
Who, I am sure, is kind and comfortable:
When she shall hear this of thee, with her nails
She'll flay thy wolvish visage. Thou shalt find
That I'll resume the shape which thou dost think
I have cast off for ever: thou shalt,
I warrant thee.

Exeunt KING LEAR, KENT, and Attendants

GONERIL
Do you mark that, my lord?

ALBANY
I cannot be so partial, Goneril,
To the great love I bear you,--

GONERIL
Pray you, content. What, Oswald, ho!
To the Fool

You, sir, more knave than fool, after your master.

Fool
Nuncle Lear, nuncle Lear, tarry and take the fool
with thee.
A fox, when one has caught her,
And such a daughter,
Should sure to the slaughter,
If my cap would buy a halter:
So the fool follows after.

Exit