11x04 - The Lost Art of Forehead Sweat

Episode transcripts for the TV show "The X-Files". Aired September 1993 - March 2018.*
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Two FBI agents, Fox Mulder the believer and Dana Scully the skeptic, investigate the strange and unexplained while hidden forces work to impede their efforts.
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11x04 - The Lost Art of Forehead Sweat

Post by bunniefuu »

I know you think I'm crazy... but it's not me.

It's the world.

The world's gone mad.

Because...

Because Martians have invaded, but nobody seems to care.

Take it easy, mister.

Have a cup of joe.

I can't take it easy.

I just saw one outside.

So tell me, what do these Martians look like?

They have giant heads and multiple appendages.

Yikes. And they're here to eat us or something?

No.

They have a ray of some kind that makes us... forget.

Forget what?

There! I just saw one! Where?

Outside through that window, I just saw one of them.

Hey, mister.

That ain't a window.

That's a mirror.

What is this, some kind of sick joke, buddy?

Oh, it's no joke.

And my name's not Buddy.

Wait, what?

Hello? Mulder, it's me. Where have you been?

I've been trying your cell. I was out squatching.

What? Bigfoot hunting. I had my phone turned off.

Did you have any luck? No. But that's not really the point.

I just had to get away from the madness for a little while.

It seems this past year all I've done is watch the news... and worry that the country's gone insane.

I had to get out to nature, you know, where it's simple and uncomplicated... where it's just you and the elements.

And possibly a cryptozoological simian-like hairy humanoid with enormous feet.

I think you just like saying squatching. Are we still on for dinner tomorrow night?

Yeah, I'll see you then.

Scully, did I ever tell you about the time I found a Sasquatch footprint in the mud?

It was 35 years ago. You did, I've heard this before.

On the banks of Mogoagogo River. You've told me already.

I gotta go, gotta go. In beautiful British Columbia. Scully?

Scully?

Mulder.

It's me. Now, I know you're surprised to see me.

I thought we were all done after, you know, that last case.

I've stumbled on the conspiracy to...

To end all conspiracies.

Who are you?

So they have already gotten to you. How did you know how to contact me?

To meet me here?

I... It had to be someplace safe.

They...

They'd k*ll us if they had the chance.

And who are they?

They are why you don't remember. Why aren't people getting probed... by aliens anymore?

You used to know, but they made you forget...

So that you wouldn't remember me. Look, what is this all about?

Oh, my God.

There's no way for me to make you understand without me seeming like a crazed madman.

It's a little late for that.

I think your ride is here.

The first Twilight Zone episode you ever saw, it was The Lost Martian, right?

You remember that?

And if I do?

That Twilight Zone episode doesn't exist.

It never did.

Were you followed?

Who is that?

It'd be a hell of a twist if it were Rod Serling.

Submitted for your approval.

No, it's not in here either.

What I don't understand is how this guy knew about your secret rendezvous signal?

Who cares about any of that, Scully? I can't find The Lost Martian.

When he said that that episode of The Twilight Zone didn't exist...

That's when I knew he was a crazy person. It's a classic.

I came home and checked my box DVD set, and it wasn't on there.

I checked all my episode guide books. No mention of it.

I had to search it online. Nothing.

Now I'm going through my tapes because I'm sure I recorded it at some point.

Well, maybe it's one of those other shows, like Outer Limits or...

Confuse The Twilight Zone with The Outer Limits?

Do you even know me? Can we talk about this over dinner? Please?

I'm not gonna be able to eat until I find this, ever again.

It can't be that good of an episode. It's not about the episode, Scully.

It's about my memory of seeing my first Twilight Zone.

It changed me. You don't forget that.

I was 8 years old, my parents let me stay up till midnight... because that was back in the day when it only aired late at night... on some local channel.

Wait, what?

And my name's not Buddy.

Wait, what? Oh, now I get it.

I remember it all so clearly, as if it just happened.

He stand you up again?

Are you that guy that met with Mulder last night?

What gave it away, Skulls?

He mentioned the forehead sweat.

I need you to help me find someone. Who?

Me.

They... They're trying to erase me!

Skulls, look, I can prove it. Hey. I'm armed.

Where did you find this?

My fingerprints are on that box.

Just prove that I'm real!

Wait!

Let me get this straight.

When it cools, it forms into three different layers... with three different textures, all from the same mix?

How has this never been an X-File?

I have such wonderful memories associated with it.

I remember my mom making it.

I remember family vacations over the summer holidays... and Fourth of July, fireworks, America, God, love.

That's some Jell-O.

I mean, just the cherry flavor. The lemon-lime tasted like leprechaun taint.

But I have literally been looking for this for decades.

But every time I look for Goop-O A-B-C, everyone says...

No, you must be thinking about Jell-O 1-2-3.

It's the Mandela Effect. What do you mean?

When someone has a memory of something not shared by the majority or the factual record.

Some people have a memory of seeing a movie... called Shazaam starring Sinbad as an irrepressible genie... even after it's pointed out to them they're probably thinking of Kazaam... starring Shaquille O'Neal as a genie.

Especially because a movie called Shazaam was never made.

But what if I don't remember either movie? You win!

But, Mulder, isn't your false Twilight Zone memory also a Mandela Effect?

No, because my false memory is real.

But again, how does this mystery guy, whose fingerprints came up with nothing... how does he even know about these secret memories of ours?

You can ask him tonight. I taped an X to the window this morning.

But that's your secret rendezvous signal. I don't wanna intrude.

He clearly wants you involved, Scully.

Come on, it'll be like a date.

Well, this is romantic.

Isn't it?

So who are you? I think my name is Reggie.

Reggie something.

Well, Mr. Something, you wanna tell us what this is all about?

Like all life-questioning revelations, it came to me while I was moving.

Not myself, but my mother.

When unpacking her stuff, I came across a bunch of old things of mine she kept.

Remembering my mom reading Dr. Wuzzle books to me... is one of the fondest memories I have.

But when I looked more closely at the book's cover...

That's when the woozle-wozzle-bloober-blubs really hit the fan.

What? Because Dr. Wuzzle's name... was spelled different than how I remembered, not with two S's, but with two Z's.

What's happening?

It's the Mandela Effect.

The what effect? The Mandela Effect.

When someone has a memory that doesn't coincide with everybody else's or the facts.

So named because some have a memory of hearing... that Nelson Mandela d*ed in the '80s while imprisoned... when, in fact, he d*ed a free man in 2013.

No. It's called the Mengele Effect. Because people have a memory... of Josef Mengele getting apprehended in Ohio in 1970. So it's the Mengele Effect.

The Mandela Effect has been an internet meme for almost a decade.

It's always been called that.

See, you're having a Mengele Effect about the Mandela Effect.

I should know because of how I found out about it.

My search led me to a historical repository of vintage Americana.

Excuse me, do you have any old Dr. Wuzzle books?

That's something somebody might actually want, so no.

I do have something over in the political shame section that might interest you.

It's a cartoon that Dr. Wuzzle drew back in 1940.

Damn it, it's still wrong! Easy, easy.

If you're gonna break something, use the Evel Knievel doll.

It'll make it more authentic.

What... No, I'm sorry. It's...

I remember his name being spelled in a different way.

Oh, boy. Sounds like somebody's suffering from the Mengele Effect.

See? It's called the Mengele Effect.

That doesn't prove anything. Just trust me.

Okay, I've done a lot of research into this since then.

And the shop owner himself was a bit of an expert on the topic.

It all started a couple of years ago.

People coming in looking for some fondly remembered item from their past.

I'd show it to them, but there's always something just a little off.

And they'd be like, no, I remember the logo being r*cist in a different way.

Like everybody's recall is out of whack.

Yeah, yeah. And I think the government knows about it.

What do you mean?

Government always knows more than they let on.

For instance, do you think the government didn't know when this was being sold... back in the '70s, that it wasn't full of carcinogens?

They know the truth about the Mengele Effect.

That's when I launched my own investigation into the phenomenon.

The Mengele Effect is being intentionally orchestrated by someone.

Who? And to what end?

For the simple reasons Orwell said... He who controls the past, controls the future.

The ability to manipulate memory creates unlimited power.

Political, economical, cultural.

It runs the gamut from Holocaust denial to corporate product recognition.

There are companies who are willing to pay anything, do anything... to have people forget that their products explode on impact... or suddenly catch fire, companies like...

Spending billions in profit to repress these memories.

Only thing I haven't been able to do is figure out how they're doing it.

They can't.

I'm sorry, but this is ridiculous. I mean, the Mandela Effect...

It's the Mengele Effect. It's the Mengele Effect, just say it.

...is simply people misremembering stuff.

But maybe this is actually evidence of a parallel universe.

Wait, what?

So maybe these differences in collective memories are actually evidence... of our universe somehow becoming intertwined with another... if not identical, then very similar universe, so people's memories are correct... they're just remembering something that happened in another dimension.

Hence, the discrepancies. That's science, Scully.

Theoretical science, at best, Mulder.

Yeah, we're not gonna do this parallel universe sci-fi gobbledygook, nerd boy, okay?

Just, please, drop it. That crap gives me a headache.

It's a lot better than some evil entity zapping people's brains with a hypno-ray g*n.

I never mentioned a hypno-ray g*n. It's faulty memory because Occam's razor.

That's Ozzie's razor, not Occam's. It's always been Ozzie's razor.

Maybe in a parallel universe it is... but in still yet another universe, it's perhaps known as Occam's a*.

It's not parallel universes!

Now, look, since I'm the only one with any proof of this insidious plot...

What proof? You've yet to offer any proof.

Proof is in the fact that once I uncovered what they were up to... they turned the Mengele Effect on me. Just... Look.

It's my high school yearbook my mom kept.

There is not a single picture of me in here. Anywhere.

There's not any inscriptions from my classmates here.

No have a great summer, you were funny in math class. Nothing.

It's like I never even went to this school.

Maybe you did but in a parallel universe. Exactly... Knock that off.

None of us remember our high school years with much accuracy.

Skulls, I wish this was about my own psychological issues.

That way, the memorabilia shop owner would still be alive.

When I went back to tell him about the conspiracy to manipulate memory...

And to see if he had... Do you guys remember the little candies... that were shaped like watermelon slices, but they taste like coconut?

When I went back, they had silenced him.

They had impaled him with a lawn dart.

I'm sorry, but what's a lawn dart?

Oh, it's this kid's game... where you would try to throw these mini-metallic javelins into the air... onto these rings that you put on a lawn.

And they sold these to kids? We were made of sterner stuff back then.

Well, it just sounds like an accidental death to me.

No! No, that's what they want you to believe!

Sounds like your ride's here.

She thinks I'm just some kind of conspiracy nut.

Well, a conspiracy nut is right twice a day. No, that's a broken clock.

Still applies because they want you to think all conspiracies are nutty...

So you will ignore the ones that are true. Reggie, take it from a fellow nut, okay?

At some point, you're gonna have to explain who they are.

You keep on referring to this omnipresent, mysterious they... to give intentionality to random events or external explanations for psychological ones.

But there's no they there. Who is they?

This guy.

He is They.

This is a story of a man named They.

Dr. Thaddeus Q. They, a neuroscientist who has discovered a way... to manipulate collective memory. Most people have never heard of him.

Or rather they have... but he's manipulated their memories to make them forget they have.

While working on NASA's top secret Operation Soy b*mb... involving future, one-way space flights beyond our realm...

Dr. They devised a technique to change specific memories... which would allow astronauts to complete their mission... without being weighed down by thoughts of life back on Earth.

However, Dr. They was fired for also making the astronauts think they were chimpanzees.

He perfected his research at U.S. University Hospital in Grenada... and now applies his method for a number of unknown, mysterious clients.

His memory manipulations have run the gamut.

From Holocaust denial to corporate product recognition... to making people forget he, himself, once starred as an irrepressible genie... in a movie called Ka-Blaam.

Dr. They has not been heard of for many years... but rumors swirl that he was at the last presidential inauguration... where, amongst the hundreds of millions who attended... he was seen occupying the last remaining seat available.

And as to his motivations for being there, and what exactly he is up to now... we have no way of knowing.

Or perhaps we once did, but have since been made to forget.

What the hell was that?

That video was... unbelievable.

You wanna hear unbelievable, check out these comments.

I think the editing could have been tighter. This jerk just says, meh.

When I stumbled across this, I tried to confirm as much of it as I could... but I was only able to verify the most important part, the Grenada thing.

That was the most important part?

Tell me, Little Miss Skeptic, why did we inv*de Grenada?

When was that again?

There was a Marxist overthrow of the government.

Reagan was concerned about U.S. students at a university hospital.

Now you're just... What?

You're just embarrassing yourself at this point. Those were the official reasons.

But no one really remembers the reasons. Not even me, and I was there.

I found this amongst my mom's stuff.

I wrote it when I was in Grenada, when I was 18, to be read when I turned 50.

To myself at age 50.

Always remember...

And the rest of the letter's redacted. Who redacted it?

I did when I wrote it. It was meant as a joke. That stuff was funny to me when I was a kid.

Okay, what does this prove? You're missing the most important part.

A Grenada UFO stamp. Yeah.

What's that? Prime minister of Grenada... once advocated in front of the U.N. for the creation of a department of UFO research.

He issued these stamps to raise money for that.

After he was deposed, he confessed a UFO had crashed off their coast... and a dead alien had been recovered from the waters.

Correct. Except for one detail.

The alien wasn't dead.

I was a med student at that hospital.

They brought in the semiconscious alien, and Dr. They was put in charge of saving it.

The alien had been sent to Earth to warn us about the holes in the ozone layer.

One of his people would return in 35 years... to see if we had managed to avoid environmental catastrophe.

I only caught glimpses of their conversation. The two of them talked alien telepathically.

I will telepathically transfer to you all our knowledge of what you call the brain.

But that's when the invasion occurred, and the men from the government showed up.

Wait, what?

I don't know if I repressed the memory or Dr. They erased my mind... but seeing that stamp, it all came flooding back to me.

Now we're dealing with recovered memories?

I'm sorry.

I'm out.

Reggie, what you told us is theoretically possible... but more likely in another universe.

The one thing I didn't forget was the telepathic screams of that alien.

No, wait. What are you...? Hey!

Oh! No!

I wanted to know where the men from the government took him.

That's when I dropped out of med school, joined the FBI.

And that's how I started the X-Files.

That's right.

We used to be partners!

Mulder. Foxy.

Reggie, what's up?

I got this really cool poster for the office, man. You're gonna flip over it.

Sorry, nobody down here but the FBI's most unwanted.

Move along, sugar boobs, this is the X-Files.

No women allowed.

That guy is so creepy.

And changes world history.

And then Columbus never discovers America... man never lands on the moon... the U.S. never invades Grenada...

Wait, wait, wait.

What's this about Grenada?

Guys, if this turns out to be k*ller cats, I'm gonna be very disappointed.

She's their mother. If she's their mother, how can she be their...?

Oh, boy.

All those memories...

You guys mean to tell me you don't remember any of that?

Not even our last case together?

This is the Mengele Effect in action. Dr. They is using it against us... because he knows we are the only team capable of stopping him.

There is no Dr. They.

Really?

Well, tell that to his henchmen.

He sent more of them.

FBI.

FBI.

What are you doing here?

You don't know?

The legend that I've heard so much about... would've already figured out who this guy was that you've been talking to... and why we were asked to find out why you are.

But I guess that's how things go.

You start out a rebel, but then you get fat.

And the next thing you know, you're deep state.

Sad.

Do you know who I am?

I'm Fox Mulder. I was fighting the power and breaking conspiracies... before you saw your first chemtrail, you punks.

I'm Fox freaking Mulder, you punks!


I'm Fox Mulder!

Fox Mulder!

So this moron's father is about there.

Reggie...

This guy...

To Bob Dylan, whose '98 Grammy performance is remembered by millions... because a half-naked man with soy b*mb written on his chest... jumped on stage and started dancing like a spaz.

No official video of the incident exists. Did it happen?

Seven years later, the band Eels releases a song Whatever Happened to Soy b*mb.

A coded message? Especially because the band's lead singer, the son of Hugh Everett III... who originated the many-worlds interpretation of quantum physics...

I'm right back to parallel universes again.

It's true, Scully, I've lost the plot. I can't find the hidden connections between things anymore.

The world's become too crazy for even my conspiratorial powers.

Maybe you've just lost your taste for it, especially after all this birther stuff.

Maybe.

Maybe it's just realizing the absurdity of an evil doctor named They.

Mulder.

When?

Where?

Who was that?

Dr. They.

Dr. They, I presume?

Kids today don't even know what this means. Why should they?

When's the last time someone admitted doing something they were ashamed of?

Even if caught on tape doing it, they just say, well, that was taken out of context.

Yes. But why are you shaming me?

Someone who's spent his life seeking the truth behind every great conspiracy... and you're only now finding out about me?

Perhaps it just goes to show how good you are at hiding in the shadows.

Who's hiding? I'm in the phone book.

But nobody knows what's a phone book anymore.

I have to admit, what little I know of you, I got from a rather dubious online video.

Did you like that? I made it.

It's my new platform. Phony fake news.

It's a presentation of real facts, but in a way that assures no one will believe any of it.

To what end?

The bitter end.

Which is why, when I became aware that you were finally aware of me...

I felt a professional courtesy to meet with you and to tell you this in person.

You're dead.

Oh, that came out wrong. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you.

I meant your time, Agent Mulder.

Your time has passed.

Okay. So, what is or what was my time?

Well, it's a time when people of power thought that they could keep their secrets secret... and were willing to do anything to keep it that way.

Those days are passed. Gone.

We're now living in a post-cover-up, post-conspiracy age.

And no doubt, the kids will come up with some catchphrase for it.

Po-Co or something.

They'll say like, oh, that's so Po-Co. It'll make you wish you really were dead.

As long as the truth gets out.

They don't really care whether the truth gets out.

Because the public no longer knows what's meant by the truth.

What do you mean? No one can tell the difference anymore... between what's real and what's fake. There's still objective truth, objective reality.

So what?

I mean, you take this Mandela Effect.

Well, in the old days, I would never have come out and admitted to you... yes, I can change people's collective memories.

That would've meant I could control the past.

And if that's true... As Orson Welles once said...

He who controls the past controls the future.

It was George Orwell that said that. Well, for now maybe.

Anyway, the point is I can tell you all of this, right out in the open... because it doesn't matter who knows about it.

They won't know whether to believe it or not. To be honest, I'm not believing any of this.

Believe what you want to believe. That's what everybody does nowadays anyway.

You're only proving my point, you twit.

But, full disclosure, you're right.

I can't control people's minds. Although, it turns out, you don't really have to.

All you need is some people to think it's possible.

And then you've sown the seeds of uncertainty.

All you really need is a laptop. So that's what this has all been about?

The spread of online disinformation?

Maybe.

You know, our current president once said something truly profound.

He said, nobody knows for sure.

What was he referring to?

What does it matter?

Mulder!

How the hell did you get in here?

Foxy, what did you find out from They?

I'm not exactly sure what to think about any of it.

Oh, God. What did They do to you?

That's exactly what they want you to think about everything.

First thing, I need to find out who you are. His name is Reginald Murgatroid.

Using your yearbook, I tracked down your high school transcripts.

You only spent a few weeks there, you didn't graduate.

But after completing your GED, you enlisted in the Army... and participated in the invasion of Grenada... where one of the resistance soldiers slash construction workers... hit you on the head with a shovel.

You received medical assistance at the U.S. university hospital there.

After your stint in the m*llitary, you engaged in a series of bureaucratic jobs... in various federal agencies, starting with the U.S. Postal Service.

Then the Internal Revenue Service.

The Security and Exchange Commission.

The Department of Justice, specifically the Witness Protection Agency.

Anthony, The Meat Grinder, Mortillaro... one-time hit man for the mob, you are now Tony Jones, real estate agent.

But after 9/11, you joined the CIA.

Hey.

Then onto the Pentagon with the Department of Defense.

Boom, goes the dynamite.

Wait. Is that a wedding cake? Damn it!

Not again.

Oh, well, time for lunch.

But your longest stint was at the NSA, The National Security Agency.

So you voted for him? Yeah. He's gonna drain the swamp.

Get all those Goldman Sachs people out of the White House...

Did I tell you about the time I found a Sasquatch footprint in the mud?

Yeah, you did, I've heard this before. It was 35 years ago about...

On the banks of Mogoagogo River. On the banks of Mogoagogo River.

Until about a year ago when you were committed to a mental institution... because you'd had a nervous breakdown. Wait, what?

Or perhaps it's merely the culmination of disillusionment of a man who... wanted to spend his life in service of the country that he loved... but began to feel tormented by the idea that he was betraying its very ideals.

And so using information, apparently gathered through illegal warrantless wiretaps... you escaped into a fantasy where you imagined you joined a team... that still did what America was meant to do, fight for truth and justice.

Or I'm from a parallel universe...

And I jumped dimensions... No, that's stupid. Right? Sorry.

Well, looks like my ride is here.

Hey, guys. You remember what I said last time, if you wanted me to come along peacefully?

Mr. Murgatroid, it demeans all of us.

No. No, it gives a touch of classicism.

So you remember how crazy people used to be portrayed... as thinking they were Napoleon?

When did that stop? Maybe it's another Mengele Effect. Right?

Well, uh, take care, guys.

Stay sane.

And, um, good luck with the rest of your cases.

Reggie.

Our last case together, what happened?

We found the truth that's out there.

I'd suddenly recalled the alien at Grenada's declaration... that one of his kind would return to Earth 35 years later.

Foxy's crazy intuition of the uncanny led him to figure out the location of the visitation.

Scully drove.

There it is!

Is that what I think it is?

It's the gold record.

Yup.

It's the Voyager, what's left of it.

Greetings, Earthlings.

I come before you as a representative... of the Intergalactic Union of Sentient Beings from All Known Universes and Beyond.

We have been observing your species for many, what you call, years.

Our study is now complete.

We no longer wish to have any further contact with you.

We have returned your music sampler but will no longer tolerate... any further efforts on your part to venture beyond your realm.

We are building a wall.

It will be a beautiful, albeit invisible, electromagnetic wall... that will subatomically incinerate any probes you attempt to send... beyond your solar system.

You are free to explore Uranus all you want.

But we can't allow your kind to infiltrate the rest of the cosmos.

You're not sending us your best people.

You're bringing dr*gs, you're bringing crime.

You're rapists.

And some, I assume, are good people... but we have no choice.

Believe me.

For although the rest of the galaxies all have their share of these same problems... we fear you could infect us with the one trait that is unique to Earthlings.

You lie.

To show there are no hard feelings, we've compiled a compendium of answers... to any questions you might still have regarding anything.

Good luck and good riddance.

Bing bing bong bong bing.

So that's the truth?

We're not alone in the universe... but nobody likes us?

It's okay, Mulder.

There'll always be more X-Files. No.

They gave us all the answers to everything.

Even Sasquatch.

No! It's not true!

It can't be!

It's time to face the facts, guys.

This is the end of the X-files.

But maybe the point wasn't to find the truth, but to find each other.

For no matter where we go in our lives... we will always have the memories of our time together.

No one can take those away or alter them to make us doubt that they actually happened.

Oh, Reggie.

I've always...

I know.

I know.

And as we now know, they lived happily ever after.

We'll be sure to come visit you, Reggie. No, you won't.

Where the hell are they taking Reggie?

Wait, what?

I see you found your lost episode. Turns out it wasn't a Twilight Zone.

It was a knockoff show called The Dusky Realm.

Which is now lost for the ages.

Couldn't find anything to set it in, so I used your Bigfoot impression as a mold.

Oh, no, wait, you first.

It could be the lemon-lime.

I want to remember how it was.

I want to remember how it all was.
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