Scully: Yeah. Well, I hope you realize there's no evidence whatsoever
that this mystery woman of yours has even committed a crime . . . (Scully
looks down at a picture of a blonde woman in a very skimpy dress.) Though
her wardrobe comes close. ---
Well, I hope we catch her, so she can tell us before I have to spend
another night here. You know, Mulder I don't know about you but I find
this all very depressing . . . This round-the-clock exposure to the
Mulder: That's the job, Scully-- vigilance in the face of deprivation
. . . the sheer will that it takes to sit in this crappy room spying
on the dregs of society until our suspect surfaces. There's something
ennobling in that. ---
I'm already on a case.
Skinner: You're on a stakeout. I'm confident Agent Scully can continue
in your absence.
Mulder: Why? What did I do? ---
Mulder: No, really, what did I do? ---
You're sure, uh, Martha's last name isn't Stewart?
Sheriff Phil Adderly: Tell me about it. Last year, this place made the
cover of New England Home. ---
Ellen Adderly: Hey, maybe you would like some of these to put up on
your side of town.
Jenny Uphouse: My side of town. Yeah, sure.
Ellen: Look, I didn't mean that the way it might have sounded.
Jenny: No, it just naturally comes out that way when you think you're
better than everyone. ---
Mulder, please tell me I can go home. Mulder: Oh, hey, Scully. How's
Scully: Well, the furnace broke and I can just about see my breath in
Mulder: Ouch. I'm sorry to hear that.
Scully: That . . . and I've witnessed a couple hundred things I'd like
to erase from my brain. Eww. But as of yet, no mystery woman.
Mulder: Well, she'll come, you know? It's just a matter of time. She'll
show up-- I'm sure of that.
Scully: Yeah, well not before I die of malnutrition. (She picks up a
piece of cold pizza and throws it back down)
Mulder: Hey, Scully, tough it out. Whatever doesn't kill you makes you
(At the table, Ellen is filling Mulder's plate with assorted side dishes.)
Mulder (to Ellen): No, no, no, no. No capers, thank you.
Scully: I'm sorry. What?
Mulder: I said, "What a . . . what a crazy caper." I'll talk to you
later . . . and, uh, keep warm. Bye. ---
Phil: I don't know about you, but I believe her. She didn't do it. I
just don't get that vibe.
Mulder: Fair enough, but why did she lie about her alibi? I got that
vibe pretty clear. ---
Mulder, when you find me dead, my desiccated corpse propped up staring
lifelessly through the telescope at drunken frat boys peeing and vomiting
into the gutter just know that my last thoughts were of you and how
I'd like to kill you.
Mulder: I'm sorry. Who is this?
Scully: It's a freak show, Mulder. It's a nonstop parade of every single
Mulder: Well, the view may not be too different here. It's dressed up
a little nicer but underneath the surface, it's the same seamy underbelly.
Scully: It's not the same, trust me. ---
Ellen: No, it's no trouble. Actually, it helps me. Whenever my life's
a mess, I just do some housework. It gives me the illusion I'm in control.
Mulder: Well, maybe I should try that sometime. ---
Ellen: Do you have a . . . a significant other?
Mulder: Um, not in the widely understood definition of that term.
Ellen: Ah. Well, the right woman will come along and change all that.
Don't miss out on home and family, Mr. Mulder. With all the terrible
things you must see in your work-- well, it could be a refuge for you.
So you were having an affair with both Jenny and Martha Crittendon?
I got to hand it to you, Sheriff. You put the service back into "protect