The X-Files s03e04 Episode Script

Clyde Bruckman's Final Repose

I foresee a rocky romantic affair between superstar Madonna and super witness Kato Kaelin.
That's a gimme.
That's not really going out on a limb, is it? I foresee author J.
D.
Salinger finally publishing a new novel and hitting the talkshow circuit to promote it.
That's just playing the odds.
I foresee the revelation that not Elvis but rather Buddy Holly is still alive, having faked his own death so many years ago.
Holly will not only reemerge but also regroup with the Crickets and they will headline in next year’s Lalapala- Lalapazoola? What the hell is Lalapalazzo? Who's Buddy Holly? just give me my lotto ticket and a pint of malt scotch whiskey.
- Anything else? - Yeah.
One of these.
** - Sorry.
- Don't apologize.
You're a better dancer than my last date.
So, what has brought you to Madam Zelma? Well, can you really know everything about me just by looking at my hands? The palms tell me all.
I would just like for you to be able to tell me why am I going to be doing the things I'm going to be doing? Madam Zelma, she's a palm reader, not a psychologist.
I know, I know.
It’s just- I think I've somehow caught a glimpse of my own future.
Myself.
And I see me doing things that just seem so out of character for me.
These are things that not only do I not want to be doing, but I can't even imagine myself capable of doing.
And yet, there I am.
I'm doing them.
Mister.
Please, you're hurting me.
I know.
I know.
And I'm sorry, but you’re a fortune-teller.
- You should have seen this coming.
- Please- They say the eyes capture the last image a murder victim sees before they're killed.
- So what did they say about the entrails? - Yuck.
Is it true you asked for some help in this case? This guy is supposed to be an expert at this sort of thing.
I heard he was a bit unorthodox.
- He comes highly recommended.
- Yeah.
I saw him on TV.
Okay, so he's a publicity hound.
As long as he gets results.
I once worked on a case he did.
Very spooky.
As long as he gives us leads, I don't care how big a kook- - Who the hell are you? - I'm Agent Mulder.
This is Agent Scully.
Oh, I forget you were coming aboard I'm Cline.
This is Havez.
We're thinking this guy might be a satanist.
What, with the eyeballs.
Satanists take the eyeballs and leave the body, not vice versa.
And not in anything but modern myths.
He's gouging eyes for no reason? Nobody does anything without a reason.
We've already composed a profile of the killer.
We offer possible explanations for the nature of his attacks and also his choice of victims.
- Does it explain the entrails? - Anthropomancy.
It was once believed you could divine your future by vivisecting a human being and studying the entrails.
So this guy is hacking up people in order to see his future? There's a possible connection with victims being prognosticators.
Till this one.
She was a professional doll collector.
And an amateur tasseographer.
She read tea leaves.
After drinking the tea, you can gain insight into your future by examining the pattern of the leaves on the bottom of the cup.
You believe this stuff? I'm not convinced of its accuracy, but I'm pretty sure the victim was.
Why? The leaves were telling her she was about to be murdered.
- Mr.
Yappi, I appreciate you coming down here.
- Quiet! Yes.
I'm seeing visions.
Visions of the killer.
He does not feel like he's in control of his own life.
Very important.
That's why he kills.
Yes.
- Can you see what he looks like? - He looks like a white man with facial hair- or not.
But he has- Yes! A tattoo somewhere on his body.
Maybe the tattoo has the facial hair.
I think.
Hmm! I see him here forcing himself, yes, on the girl.
But he cannot perform.
So he is taking out his rage.
It's gone.
I lost the vision.
Someone is blocking me.
I am picking up negative energy.
Please, leave this room.
- I'm part of this investigation.
- You give off negative energy.
I assure you, Mr.
Yappi, I'm a believer in psychic ability.
So you say with your mouth, but your thoughts tell me the truth.
Agent Mulder, please.
I can't take you anywhere.
Now, excuse me.
I have an interview to give.
Skeptics like you make me sick.
Mr.
Yappi, read this thought.
So's your old man.
It's too bad about your negative energy.
You missed quite a performance.
Look what he did to my pen.
Let me impress you with my psychic ability.
Mr.
Yappi proclaimed the victim's body would be found near water.
He saw a church or a school in the vicinity.
He got a flash of the letter "S" and/or the number 7.
- So what's your point? - His leads are so vague as to be practically useless.
Yet easily interpreted as correct after the fact.
He said that the killer doesn't feel in control of his own life.
- That's true of everyone at times.
- He said a lot of other things.
Yeah, and some are bound by percentages to be right.
But most will turn out wrong.
Which is which? Look, all I know is that Yappi has provided more solid, concrete leads on this case than you have.
Now, if you don't mind, I have to get an A.
P.
B.
out on a white male, with or without a beard, maybe a tattoo, who's impotent.
Let's go.
Might as well go home, Mulder.
This case is as good as solved.
You see, the thing is, we were really hoping to buy a boat.
Mr.
Gordon, as a young husband, I think you’re going to find that your new responsibilities to your family take precedence over your recreational needs.
But this is a really good boat.
You don't get it, do you, kid? Two years from now while driving down Route 91 coming home to your wife and baby daughter, you're going to be hit head-on by a drunk driving a blue '87 Mustang.
You'll end up looking worse than 60 feet of bad road your body slides across after flying out your front windshield.
Mister, you really need to work on your closing technique.
Oh, no, no, no, no.
Not your lighter, Mrs.
Lowe.
I want your garbage.
Get out of here, you monster! Is everything all right, Mrs.
Lowe? You have enough supplies? You have enough dog food? Oh, God.
It's kind of creepy, isn't it? The Stupendous Yappi said the first victim's body has been dumped somewhere.
Then we find it in a dumpster.
Ooh, I just got a chill down my spine.
Who found the body? According to the police report, Mr.
Bruckman, you didn't touch the body after you found her.
Why would I want to? But you reported that you found a body with its eyes cut out.
The body was face down.
If you didn't move it, how did you know the eyes had been removed? They had been, hadn't they? Then what are you complaining about? How had the eyes been cut out? By a piece of crystal ball, of all cockamamie things.
We did find crystal shards on the body.
How do you know it was from a crystal ball? Well, it just figures.
I mean, if a guy goes to kill a fortune-teller, he's obviously going to assault her with her own crystal ball and use the shattered piece as a sort of lance.
Isn't he? How much have you heard about the recent slayings in town? just that some nut is going around killing fortune-tellers and ripping their eyes and entrails out.
How did you know about the entrails? That hasn't been released to the press.
I never read the papers.
Too depressing.
Mr.
Bruckman.
I'm sorry, Mr.
Bruckman, but I'm gonna have to ask you to come with us.
Step inside, Mr.
Bruckman.
What is this all about? A murder occurred here earlier this evening, and we have reason to believe that it was committed by the same person who murdered the woman that you found.
- Is there anything you can tell us about it? - I didn't do it.
You're not under suspicion.
But I do harbor a suspicion that you can see things about this crime.
Things that we can’t see.
- I-I-I'm not sure I understand what you mean.
- I think you do.
Yeah, yeah, right.
I'd like to see both your badges again right now.
I don't blame you, Mr.
Bruckman.
I'm supposed to believe that's a real name? What is this all about? I found a dead body in my dumpster.
I reported it to the police.
And now suddenly I'm accused of doing things? Or being able to do things that I couldn't possib- Pinch me.
This guy's performing the same routine as the Stupendous Yappi.
He’s just doing it in a different style.
No, something told me, is telling me, that this guy's for real.
Oh, so now you're psychic? The killer, he doesn't feel like he's in control of his own life.
I mean, like, who is? Am I right? But this guy- He truly believes he sees himself as some kind of a puppet.
Can you describe him? Do you get a visual impression of him? So you can see into him but not at him? I'm sorry.
I didn't mean to give off any negative energy.
Negative energy? What is this- What is it? What do you see? He's having sex with her.
There.
- Is he raping her? - Oh, no.
Not at all.
In fact, she's instigating the whole thing.
Then what's wrong? Sometimes it just seems that everyone is having sex except for me.
Mr.
Bruckman, can you tell us why the killer is murdering people in the way that he is? Why does anyone do the things they do? Why do I sell insurance? I wish I knew.
Why did this woman collect dolls? What was it about her life? Was it one specific moment where she suddenly said, "I know.
Dolls.
" Or was it a whole series of things? Starting when her parents first met.
And somehow combined in such a way that in the end she had no choice but to be a doll collect- You'll find a woman tomorrow morning by the fat, little white Nazi storm trooper- Glenview Lake.
Her body’s floating in Glenview Lake.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I've seen enough deaths for one night.
Here you go.
Is she from around here? Be honest, Scully.
Doesn't that propane tank bear more than as light resemblance to a little, fat white Nazi storm trooper? Mulder, the human mind naturally seeks meaningful patterns in things that don't inherently have any.
Given the suggestion of a particular image, you can't help but see that shape somewhere.
If that tank weren’t there, you'd see it in a rock or in a tree- Did you answer my question? Yes, it looks like a fat white Nazi storm trooper, but that proves my point.
He named the specific body of water the victim would be found in.
That only implies that he was the one that put her in there.
- I don't believe he's the killer.
- I don't believe he's psychic.
If he’s not, how did he know where the body would be found? Maybe he’s just lucky.
Thirty-eight, forty and forty-four.
Once again, the winning lotto numbers are - Why? - Eight, twelve- Why do I do this to myself? Come in.
I knew it was you.
I know why you’re here.
You're here because you found that body where I told you it would be.
And now you’re convinced I have some sort of psychic power.
So while your skeptical lady partner is off performing an autopsy, you came here to ask my help catching this serial murderer.
Everything you said is correct.
Oh, it's you.
I won't help you.
Please leave.
- But you do admit to having this gift.
- Oh, I got it, all right.
The only problem is, it's non returnable.
You possess an ability that not only has staggering implications upon physics and human consciousness, but it's one which most people, myself included, would be envious of, yet you seem to treat it with disdain.
Do you want to know how you’re gonna die? Yes, I would.
No, you don't.
Of course, not knowing has its own drawbacks, which is why a good insurance policy is so important.
I don't know what kind of coverage the F.
B.
I.
has, but General Mutual has- Mr.
Bruckman, this murderer has already committed four homicides.
And he'll commit more whether I help you or not.
- How can you be so sure? - How could I see the future if it didn't already exist? But if the future is written, then why bother to do anything? Now you’re catching on.
Mr.
Bruckman, I believe in your ability but not your attitude.
I can't stand by and watch people die without doing everything in my albeit un-supernatural power to interfere with that fate.
You see, that's another reason I can't help you catch this guy.
I might adversely affect the fate of the future.
His next victim might be the mother of the daughter whose son invents the time machine.
Then the son goes back in time and changes world history.
And then Columbus never discovers America, man never lands on the moon, the U.
S.
never invades Grenada or something less significant, resulting in the fact that my father never meets my mother and, consequently, I'm never born.
So when do we start? I don't know what it is, but it belonged to one of the victims.
That's a hit.
In psychical research parlance, a correct guess is a hit.
An incorrect guess is a miss.
The guy who cast the mold for this will die of prostate cancer at the age of82.
- Hit or miss? - I have no way of verifying that information.
Then why'd you ask me? Do you receive any other impressions from it? It's ugly.
Next.
I was told you were interrogating a suspect, but something tells me- I'm now convinced of our psychic's ability, Scully.
Or rather, his one ability.
He is able to divine how people are gonna die.
But that's all.
He can't provide any practical information on our case.
I got it! This is yours.
This is from your New York Knicks T-shirt.
Miss.
This is worse than playing the lotto.
Try reading this.
Save me the headache, Scully.
What is it? It was found on the woman pulled from the lake.
Identical key chains were found on two of the other victims.
I managed to trace the insignia to an investment firm called Uranus Unlimited.
They provide market strategies based on astrological forecasts.
- The company is owned by a man named- - Claude Duckenfield.
Age 43.
Divorced with two children.
Makes about 87,000 a year.
- Nonsmoker.
- Was that a hit or a miss? As far as I know, that's correct.
You got all that information just by handling that key chain? Oh, no.
I sold him a policy a couple of months ago.
just a coincidence.
In any case, we're trying to get a hold of him.
You won't be able to.
He's been murdered.
We’re almost there.
How are you receiving this information about the body's location? How should I know? I mean, are you seeing it in a vision or is it a sensation? - How do you know where to go? - I just know.
- But how do you know? - I don't know.
Look, it’s just up ahead.
There are worse ways to go, but I can't think of a more undignified one than autoerotic asphyxiation.
Why are you telling me that? Look.
Forget I mentioned it.
It's none of my business.
Oops.
Pull over here.
Stop.
Stop.
This is the spot.
I guess you run into a lot of dead bodies in your line of work.
You get used to it.
I never have.
I'm not sure you’re supposed to.
Do you remember the first time you foresaw someone's death? - What happened in 1959? - Buddy Holly's plane crashed.
- You prognosticated Buddy Holly's death? - Oh, God, no.
Why would I want to do that? But I did have a ticket to see him perform the next night.
Actually, I was a bigger fan of the Big Bopper than Buddy Holly.
"Chantilly Lace.
" That was the song.
I'm not following you.
The Big Bopper was not supposed to be on the plane with Buddy Holly.
He won the seat from somebody else by flipping a coin for it.
I'm still not following.
Imagine all the things that had to occur, not only in his life but in everybody else's, to arrange it so that on that particular night the Big Bopper would be in a position to live or die depending on a flipping coin.
I became so obsessed with that idea that I gradually became capable of seeing the specifics of everybody’s death.
I'm not one who readily believes in that kind of thing.
And if I was, I still wouldn't believe that story.
I know it sounds crazy, but I swear it's true.
I was a bigger fan of the Big Bopper than Buddy Holly.
Where's the body? Mr.
Bruckman, I don't understand how you could know that this is the exact area, but you can't pinpoint the exact spot.
I guess I can't see the forest for the trees.
Okay, now.
I'm glad I could bring a little smile into your life, Mr.
Bruckman.
I'm not smiling.
I'm wincing.
What is this? The only evidence recovered from Claude Duckenfield's body.
That fiber may have come from something the killer was wearing at the time of the crime.
Don’t you have crime labs that analyze these things for you? Yes.
Yes, we do.
But it will take them time to provide any information.
A similar fiber was found on one of the earlier victims, and we're still waiting for the lab to determine its source.
You'd be saving us a great deal of work.
Look, I've got my own work to do.
I'm not a crime fighter by trade.
Mr.
Bruckman, I can't speak for my partner, but I'm desperate for some insurance.
General Mutual has some very comprehensive coverage- No.
I can't tell you where this is from, but-but the killer's gonna kill more people before you catch him.
Can you see him physically yet? No, just more insight into his character, which I know you hate.
- He thinks he's psychic.
- Is he? I hope not.
I've seen some of the things he's seen.
What does he see? - Hey! - You.
He sees you trying to catch him.
Where does this take place? In a kitchen.
You're looking around for someone.
He's behind you now, but you don't know it.
He’s stalking towards you and- - Oh, God.
- What? What do you see? He's got a knife.
It's got blood on it.
- What am I doing? - You're looking down.
You've stepped in a pie that's fallen to the floor.
The killer comes up to you and- - Coconut cream.
- What? The pie.
Coconut cream.
Or is it lemon meringue? I don't know.
- I'm not sure.
It's hazy.
- Whatever.
Please continue.
As you're looking down, he comes up with the knife and- Banana cream! Definitely banana cream.
All right.
I'm looking down at this banana cream pie, and then what? He sees himself coming up to you from behind- And? And what does he see? Nothing.
The visions of a madman.
You got all that from this? How am I supposed to get anything from this tiny, little thing? This came in the mail today.
Who's it from? The killer.
"To whom it may concern: This is a mere formality to let you know I know that you know.
Can't wait till our first meeting when I kill you.
But not before you explain some things tome.
First on the list: Why in the world did I send you this letter? Sincerely, you know who.
- P.
S.
Say hi to the F.
B.
I.
agents.
" - Hi.
He must have been at the crime scene seeing you with us.
No, this letter is postmarked the day before Mr.
Bruckman joined our investigation.
You're gonna have to come with us.
We've gotta get you out of here.
Look.
I'll be dead before you catch this guy no matter what you do.
You've come to me because you’re searching for someone.
But don't worry.
This person will find you.
It's a relative or a close friend.
Actually, a guy I'm gonna kill.
Ah, yes.
It's clearer now.
You seek answers from a special man who possesses a special wisdom.
This is real cream.
Not the phony stuff.
I know the difference.
And the chocolate- very rich.
Look at these cute little doilies they put everything on.
You sure you don't want to join me? What are you doing? Studying background checks.
This is what detective work is really like.
We can't come up with suspects by having visions.
jealous? You're very confused right now.
Nothing seems to make sense to you.
You don't know why you do the things that you do.
But your confusion is soon to come to an abrupt end with the arrival of a woman.
A blonde or a brunette.
Maybe a redhead.
There's something you haven't explained.
- Can you see your own end? - I see our end.
We end up in bed together.
I'm sorry.
I shouldn't have said that.
I don't mean to offend or scare you.
But not here.
Not this bed.
I just mean, I see us quite clearly in bed together.
You're holding my hand very tenderly, and then you're looking at me with such compassion.
And I feel- Tears are streaming down my face.
I feel so grateful.
It’s just a very special moment neither of us will ever forget.
Mr.
Bruckman, there are hits and there are misses.
And then there are misses.
I just call 'em as I see 'em.
Wow.
I'm really impressed.
I've been to a lot of fortune-tellers, but by far you’re the best.
There's still one more card left.
This card's not meant for me.
It's yours.
So Ahab mistakes the prophecy and, as a result, dies.
A similar fate happens to Macbeth.
Still, you're not the least bit curious? That must be Mulder.
Time for the midnight shift.
All right.
So how do I die? You don't.
Get this, Scully.
The lab analysis from the first bit of fiber that was found- It's lace.
- Chantilly lace? - You know what I like.
It's not likely the killer was wearing anything made out of Chantilly lace - at the time of the murders.
- What are the odds of the Big Bopper, Chantilly lace- It's a coincidence.
If coincidences are just coincidences, why do they feel so contrived? That's one to pose to the psychic philosopher.
Good night, Mulder.
Am I keeping you awake? I'm waiting for you to ask me another of those "psychic ability" questions.
I've had dreams in my life where I had a vision and then later on, I've seen that vision in reality.
As a psychic, have you ever had prophetic dreams like that? I have only one dream.
I dream it every night.
You're not one of those people who turns everything into a sexual symbol? No, I'm not a Freudian.
No.
I'm lying naked in a field of red tulips.
I'm not concerned with where lam or how I got there.
I'm at peace.
And it’s then that I realize I'm dead.
My body begins to turn a greenish white with spots of purple.
Next, the insects arrive.
The inevitable follows- putridity and liquescence.
Before I know it, I'm nothing but bones.
When I start fading to dust, I lose whatever care I still might've had about where my clothes are.
And as I begin to feel myself slipping away towards I-know-not-what, I wake up.
Well, good night.
Mulder, there's- - Are you okay? - Oh, yeah.
I just didn't sleep well.
What's up? Havez is going to stay with Bruckman while we go over to a tarot card reader around the corner.
There's been another murder.
I'm beginning to lose patience with our psychic, Scully.
What good are his prophecies if they’re not preventive? Actually, I'm starting to feel more sympathetic towards him.
- You're convinced he's a psychic now? - No, not really.
Sorry, ma'am.
But I am convinced that, by thinking he can see the future, he's taken all the joy out of his life.
So then, the priest says to the rabbi- I had it set for quail.
Yeah! - Hey.
I thought you said you hadn't heard that one before.
- I hadn't.
Hey.
Is it true that you can see how people are gonna die? I mean, can you see how I'm going to die? Lung cancer? Thank God.
I got to go visit your restroom for a second.
Don't open that door for anybody.
Oh, God! Was that not enough of a tip? They brought you right to me, right to where I work.
What are the chances of that happening? They're astronomical.
It's beyond believability.
But not impossibility.
I mean, after all, here we are.
It's funny how things work out sometimes, isn't it? I'll say.
There's something I've wanted to ask you for some time now.
You've seen the things I do in the past as well as in the future.
They're terrible things.
I know they are.
So tell me, please.
Why have I done them? Don’t you understand yet, son? Don’t you get it? You do the things you do because you’re a homicidal maniac.
That- That does explain a lot, doesn't it? It's all starting to make sense now.
No.
You don't kill me now.
- I don't? Why not? - How should I know? Either we got a copycat killer, or our guy's getting extremely lackadaisical.
Not only did he leave the body, but he didn't even bother to remove the eyes.
If my Miss Manners serves me right, that protrusion from his left cornea is a salad fork.
Something tells me we're gonna get prints off it.
Mulder, I found another strand of that silk.
We got more than that this time, Scully.
We got fingerprints.
Probably a footprint, even.
This is more like it.
No more psychics and their vague predictions.
Hell, we don't even need our own hunches.
This case is just now about good old-fashioned forensic police work.
It's the bellhop.
He's the killer.
The bellhop at the hotel.
How the hell does she know that? Woman's intuition.
Havez? Mr.
Bruckman? Hey! Drop it! Hey.
That's not the way it's supposed to happen.
- How did you know where to find us? - I didn't.
I got on the service elevator by mistake.
Thank heaven for happenstance.
None of Bruckman's prophecy came true.
The killer didn't get to him first, but he did kill Havez.
Then Bruckman's all right? Actually, I don't know.
I couldn't find him.
Then where is he? " Miss Scully.
My neighbor, Mrs.
Lowe, passed away last night.
Please see that the remains of her remains are taken care of.
Would you like a dog? He is paper trained and well behaved, regardless of his actions last night which you can't really blame him for.
" Well, here’s another nice mess you've gotten me into.
Well, I couldn't help it.
Come on.
Let's get back to Peoria, where we belong.
Do you want to know the future? Do you want to know what lies ahead? Then call me, the Stupendous Yappi.
For years, I have entertained audiences with my psychic abilities.
I have been consulted by Hollywood stars, police departments, even presidents.
Now I can be your personal psychic consultant.
Do you want to know if you will get that promotion? Do you want to know if your marriage will be successful? Do you want to know where you will meet your one truelove? Then call me at 1-900-555-YAPP.
Remember, the future's close at hand, and so is your phone.
So to hear tomorrow's secrets today, just pick it up.
I know you will.
I can see your future.
I made this.

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