(Two kids splash each other in the pool, laughing.)

YOUNGER GLAZEBROOK SON: Stop!

(They continue play-attacking as someone strange watches them from the trees. It's green eyes staring at them, he breathes heavily and makes his way through the trees. It's skin looks scaly. The boys do not notice it as it walks out towards the lawn quietly. The older one hears it and looks in the general direction. The younger one does the same, then splashes the older brother. This incites the older brother to splash back, and they continue playing. The strange being swims into the pool and slowly approaches them underwater. He jumps out, screaming. The boys scream back. The younger one splashes the man lightly as he picks the boy up playfully.)

Oh, Dad, cut it out.

OLDER GLAZEBROOK SON: Beautiful, Dad.

JERALD GLAZEBROOK: Quit picking on your brother. Remember he loves you!

YOUNGER GLAZEBROOK SON: No, I don't!

OLDER GLAZEBROOK SON: We're glad you're back home, Dad.

JERALD GLAZEBROOK: Ah, not as glad as I am.

OLDER GLAZEBROOK SON: Did you see a lot of weird stuff this year?

JERALD GLAZEBROOK: Yup, it was the weirdest show ever. But right now, your mother thinks you guys are getting ready for bed and if she comes out here and finds you guys still in the pool, she's going to kill me. So come on, out of the pool.

(He puts his youngest son down. The boys moan and whine. In the forest, something else is watching them.)

YOUNGER GLAZEBROOK SON: Awww...

OLDER GLAZEBROOK SON: Awwww, Dad...

JERALD GLAZEBROOK: Quit your whining. Come on or no bedtime story. Out you go, that's it.

(The thing in the trees is more of a monster than the Alligator-Skinned Man, weezing as it breathes. It winces constantly and it's face is bloodied naturally. The boys start back to the house.)

OLDER GLAZEBROOK SON: Come on, Dad, there's no school tomorrow...

(Jerald floats on his back a little, shooting water up into the air with his mouth. The thing watches and makes it's way into the pool. It approaches Jerald and he stands, looking at it.)

JERALD GLAZEBROOK: What the hell?

(It screeches and bites into Jerald's side. It repeatedly does so as Glazebrook screams with each bite. It rips through the skin and Jerald holds himself up on the ladder as blood pours out into the pool. It screams and snarls in victory.)

(Mulder hands Scully a picture of Glazebrook's face.)

SCULLY: What happened to him?

MULDER: Nothing you can ascertain from that photograph. The victim suffered from ichthyosis, a congenital skin disease characterized by the shedding of the epidermis in the form of scales.

(He hands her another picture of a large wound in the side of Glazebrook.)

This shows the entry wound of the undetermined weapon. There were no other injuries inflicted upon the body, no internal organs removed and/or cannibalized, and there's no signs of sexual molestation either.

(He stands.)

That's forty-eight attacks over the last twenty-eight years. Occurring in every state in the continental U.S. almost, the first in Oregon and the last five in Florida.

(He shows pictures of various people with the same wounds.)

The victims range from all different age groups, races, both male and female. The mutilations appear so motiveless that one would suspect some form of ritual yet they adhere to no known cult. A lone serial killer would have been expected to escalate the level of violence of his attacks over such an extended period of time. So what do you think, Scully? What are your initial thoughts?

(Scully looks at the picture of Glazebrook.)

SCULLY: Imagine going through your whole life looking like this.

GIBSONTON, FL

(There is a picture of Glazebrook on his coffin. There are flowers all around and the mourners sit off to the side. The priest is at the podium.)

PRIEST: "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures, he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul. He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death..."

(Scully and Mulder walk over. Sheriff Hamilton nods to them from across the way.)

"I will fear no evil for thou art with me. Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of my enemies."

(Mulder walks past Scully in the row of seats and they sit down.)

"Thou anointest my head with oil, my cup runneth over. Surely, goodness and mercy shall follow me..."

(He turns the page with his foot, having no arms.)

"...all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the lord forever." We are gathered here today to mourn the passing of Jerald Glazebrook.

(In the front row of seats, Glazebrook's wife rubs the back of her eldest son in comfort. She has a thick beard. Her younger son is seated next to the other son. Scully watches them.)

Beloved husband, father, friend and entertainer.

(Scully looks at a man in the front row as he takes out a flask and drinks from it. There is a smaller person attached to him, who has his head in the bigger man's side and is also dressed in a suit.

We mourn not only the passing who overcame the obstacles of his earthly incarnation but also the passing of the love that dwells in his all too-human heart. We mourn the passing of the admiration and the respect he instilled in his fellow colleagues.

(Scully looks in back of her at a row of other circus freaks, each deformed in some way. There is a fortune teller, a teenager and a little kid, both of whom have the same problem. Scully and the little boy smile at each other.)

We mourn the passing of the laughter and the enjoyment he brought each audience who saw him.

(Mulder slowly looks to his right and slowly looks up at the giant sitting next to him.)

For although Jerry was a world-renowned escape artist, there is one strongbox from which none of us can escape.

(The coffin starts to shake violently. Sheriff Hamilton tries to hold it down and looks to some other people.)

HAMILTON: Help...

MAN #1: I got it...

(Other men run up to the coffin and lift it up and away from the grave. A bump starts moving underneath the covering of the grave.)

WOMAN #1: Move it out of there...

WOMAN #2: Oh my lord!

(As the congregation moans and gasps, a man breaks through the covering, growling, carrying a railroad spike and a hammer.)

MAN #2: I don't believe it...

BLOCKHEAD: Having not known the deceased personally, I am in no position to perform a proper eulogy. I'm sure he was a nice guy, et cetera, et cetera. But as an admirer of the man's work, I am in a position to perform an impromptu tribute in his honor. Namely, ramming this spike into my chest!

(He does so with one quick blow, sparks flying off of the contact point. Blood coats the front of his sweater. The crowd gasps and cringes. Even Mulder and Scully flinch. The man, Doctor Blockhead, staggers around, screaming.)

MAN #3: You crazy, don't you have any respect at all?

BLOCKHEAD: I think I hit my left ventricle!

(Hamilton grabs his arm and Blockhead shoves him off.)

WOMAN #2: This is a funeral!

BLOCKHEAD: Get back, fascist!

(People start jumping at him left and right. In fact, the whole congregation starts after him.)

MAN #2: For crying out loud!

MAN #4: Get him out of here! Get him out of here!

WOMAN #3: You're awful!

(Mulder and Scully are left all alone, seated where they were. The rest of the seats are pretty much in disarray. They sit in silence for a second.)

MULDER: I can't wait for the wake.

(Mulder, Scully and Hamilton are sitting at a table.)

MULDER: On his vicap form, Jerald Glazebrook's occupation is listed as artist.

HAMILTON: Jerry was an artist... the best escape artist since Houdini. He should have been headlining Vegas but his skin condition kept him on the sideshow circuit.

SCULLY: I guess I didn't realize that sideshows were still in existence.

HAMILTON: There are about two or three of them still around.

MULDER: I got the impression that Glazebrook wasn't the only sideshow performer residing here.

HAMILTON: The town was founded back in the 20s when some of Barnum and Bailey's troops started coming down here during the winter off-season.

SCULLY: You know, this town's history might help explain our case's history. A sideshow performer would have toured much of the country over the years. And their isolation from everyday society caused by their physical deformities could have built up pathological resentments so intense that murder might be...

HAMILTON: Now, now, hold on a second. Around here, we refer to them as "very special people." Now, some of them may be different on the outside but it's what's inside that counts. And on the inside, they're as normal as anybody.

SCULLY: Until their arrests, many serial killers are considered by their friends and family to be quite "normal." If you truly regard these people as normal, then you must also consider the possibility that they are capable of committing these crimes.

HAMILTON: It's just been my experience that many people have a harder time accepting these people's deformities than they do themselves.

(Mulder opens up the menu and looks at a picture.)

MULDER: Sheriff, what is this? This design here, it's, uh, copyrighted by Hepcat Helm.

(He points to a picture of a monkey with a mermaid's tail, then at the copyright logo.)

Is that a local artist?

(Hamilton chuckles.)

HAMILTON: A bit too local. His workplace is right behind my station house.

MULDER: Do you think that we could meet Hep... cat?

(A grotesque rubber head sits on a pike as Screamin' Jay Hawkins' song, "Frenzy", plays loudly. Hepcat Helm is sitting at his desk painting as Hamilton walks in, followed by the agents.)

HAMILTON: Hepcat! Hepcat!

(Hepcat looks at them, then turns down the music.)

HEPCAT HELM: Who are the rubes?

HAMILTON: These are F.B.I. Agents Scully and Mulder. This is Hepcat Helm. He operates a carnival funhouse.

HEPCAT HELM: Oh man, how many times have I told you not to call it that?

(He throws down the handkerchief and goes over to them and looks at Mulder.)

It's not some rinky-dink carny-ride. People go through it, they don't have fun. They get the hell scared out of them. It's not a funhouse, it's a tabernacle of terror.

(Hamilton looks over at Mulder.)

HAMILTON: It's a funhouse.

(Mulder takes out the menu and shows the picture to Hepcat.)

MULDER: Mister Helm, I wanted to ask you about this menu illustration. I recognized most of the historical portraits you've drawn here, but what's this here?

(Scully rolls her eyes at the words "historical portraits.")

HEPCAT HELM: It's the Feejee Mermaid.

(He walks back to his desk carrying the menu.)

HAMILTON: Is that what that thing is?

SCULLY: What's the Feejee Mermaid?

HEPCAT HELM: The Feejee Mermaid. It's, it's the Feejee Mermaid!

HAMILTON: It's a bit of, uh... humbug Barnum pulled in the last century.

HEPCAT HELM: Barnum billed it as a real live mermaid but when people went into see it, all they saw was a real dead monkey sewn on the tail of a fish.

(Mulder walks over to him.)

MULDER: A monkey?

HEPCAT HELM: A mummified monkey.

HAMILTON: It supposedly looked so bad, he had to exhibit it as a "genuine fake."

HEPCAT HELM: Oh, but see? That's why Barnum was a genius. You never know where the truth ends and the humbug begins. He came right out and said, "This Feejee Mermaid thing is just a bunch of B.S." That just made people want to go and see it even more. So, I mean... who knows? Maybe for box office reasons, Barnum hocked it as a hoax... when in reality...

MULDER: The Feejee Mermaid was a reality.

(Hepcat exhales loudly and shrugs. Mulder walks back over to Hamilton.)

Sheriff, we're going to need to find a place to stay tonight.

HAMILTON: There are lodgings right across the way, but, uh... what's all this about?

(Mulder takes out a picture of a long row of small footprints in the sand heading towards a rock pile.)

MULDER: These tracks were found at several of the past few crime scenes. They've defied exact identification but one expert speculated that they might be simian in nature.

HAMILTON: You don't mean to tell me you think these tracks were made by the Feejee Mermaid?

SCULLY: Do you recall what Barnum said about suckers?

(She nods slightly towards Mulder.)

(The proprietor, Mister Nutt, is a midget. He climbs up a small stepladder and puts it down on the desk in front of the two agents. Nutt's dog sits on the counter.)

MULDER: Tell me, have you done much circus work in your life?

NUTT: And what makes you think I've ever spectated a circus, much less been enslaved by one?

MULDER: I know that many of the citizens here are former circus hands and I just thought that maybe you would have done...

NUTT: You thought that because I am a person of short stature that the only career I could procure for myself would be one confined to the so-called "big top." You took one quick look at me and decided that you could deduce my entire life.

(Mulder shakes his head a little. The dog whimpers as Nutt starts around to the area in shelf in back of the desk.)

Never would it have occurred to you that a person of my height could have possibly obtained a degree in hotel management.

(He holds up his degree.)

MULDER: I'm sorry, I meant no offense.

(Nutt walks back up to the desk.)

NUTT: Well, then why should I take offense? Just because it's human nature to make instantaneous judgments of others based solely upon their physical appearances? Why, I've done the same thing to you, for example. I've taken in your all-American features, your dour demeanor, your unimaginative necktie design...

(Mulder looks down at his tie.)

...and concluded that you work for the government. An F.B.I. agent.

(Mulder looks at Scully, who arches her eyebrows in surprise.)

But do you see the tragedy here? I have mistakenly reduced you to a stereotype. A caricature. Instead of regarding you as a specific, unique individual.

MULDER: But I am an F.B.I. agent.

(He holds up his badge. The dog whimpers some more. Nutt smirks a little and takes out another paper.)

NUTT: Register here, please.

(He rings the bell. Mulder and Scully are led by their trailers by the bellhop, a man named Lanny. He is the man with the smaller twin that has the twin's head inside of his chest at the funeral. He is also carrying their bags.)

MULDER: Tell me, have you done much circus work in your life?

LANNY: I was on the stage for most of my life. I was a headliner.

SCULLY: Did it not bother you to have other people staring at you?

LANNY: Best work I ever had. All I had to do was stand there. Occasionally, I'd say...

(He stops and stands tall as if on stage. They watch him.)

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like you to meet my brother Leonard."

(He pauses.)

"Excuse him, he's a little shy." Big laughs, I tell you, big laughs.

(They start to walk again.)

MULDER: Why'd you give it up?

LANNY: Mister Nutt, the kindhearted manager here, convinced me that to make a living by publicly displaying my deformity lacked dignity... so now I carry other people's luggage.

(They come to a set of trailers.)

I believe these are your trailers. If they are not, then I am wrong.

(Mulder takes the suitcases from him.)

Oh, that's most considerate. Thank you very much.

(They shake hands and Lanny starts off.)

Good night. Sleep tight. Don't let the bedbugs bite.

(He turns back in a worried manner. I walks back hurriedly, unscrewing his flask.)

No, no! That, that's not what I meant. I, I didn't mean to imply we had bedbugs. I, I meant to say, "Don't let... don't let the..."

MULDER: The Feejee Mermaids bite.

(Lanny tips his flask to him.)

LANNY: Yes, that's right, the Fee, the Feejee Mermaids. Don't, that's right, that's...

(He takes a sip from his flask and starts off.)

That, that's exactly... the Feejee Mermaids bite...

SCULLY: Mulder, what is this Feejee Mermaid business?

MULDER: Every murder investigation begins with a list of possible suspects. You should try not to be so exclusive, Scully.

(He hands her her suitcase.)

SCULLY: As long as you try not to let the atmosphere of this town distort your list all out of proportion.

(They stare at each other.)

(Hepcat Helm is listening to the same song as before, playing it extremely loud. He is painting a mask for his funhouse, then he walks over to a desk under the window and wipes off his hands. He takes an instrument and goes over to another sculpture, this one made mostly of glass. Reflected in the glass, in the window behind him, is the small monster slowly crawling in through the window. Helm stands up and the monster is gone. He goes to work on another part and sees the small monster crawling towards him in another reflection, looking blurred and distorted. He turns around and looks at it.)

HEPCAT HELM: What the hell?

(It pounces, it's grotesque face flying at it. Blood splatters over the menu as it pries it's jaws into his neck. There is a gash in his head.)

(Mulder is going for his morning jog. He stops in the road, trying to catch his air, and hears some splashing in the lake next to the road. Looking over, he sees a half-naked man coming out of the water, wearing only a loincloth. He has a tattoo of a puzzle all over his body, some of the pieces painted blue, mostly around the head and shoulder regions. He crouches down and starts eating the fish as Mulder watches intently. The strange man looks over at Mulder and throws down the fish, then starts off towards the forest.)

(The time is 7:15. Scully's eyes flicker open. Birds chirp outside as she looks out the window. She closes her eyes for a second and looks back outside, still laying down. A man seemingly falls off her roof. She sits up and sees that there is actually a men bouncing on a trampoline outside her window while another two people watch. In the background, people are performing various stunts. There is a frantic pounding on the door. She loosely puts on her robe and opens the door. Lanny stands there, his robe also loosely tied on.)

LANNY: Uh, ma'am... sheriff, he, uh... wants to see you.

(Leonard is exposed out of Lanny's stomach. Scully can't help but stare at him. Lanny, meanwhile, has his eyes on her cleavage, which is partly exposed. They both slowly look at each other, then look down at their objects of interest, then tie their robes up tighter.)

There's been another murder.

(Hamilton is standing over Helm's body, writing down notes on his pad. Scully is kneeling over Helm. Mulder is looking at the window. There is a streak of blood on it.)

WOMAN ON APB WIRE: Unit Thirteen, man down...

MULDER: Hey, Scully, there's some blood on the window here we should send to the lab.

SCULLY: Why run a test on the victim's blood?

MULDER: No, not this window.

(He walks over to the adjacent window as she stands.)

This window. This seems to be the point of entry and there's a... smear of blood on the outside of the window.

(He takes off some blood from a streak on the outside of the window with his finger.)

SCULLY: Why would there be blood before the attack?

HAMILTON: Why didn't the attacker just come through the open door? For a person to crawl in and out of these windows, they'd have to be a contortionist... or just plain crazy. Or both.

(Doctor Blockhead is suspended over a vat of hot water in a straitjacket, grunting and groaning. He starts unbuckling the straps when Mulder and Scully walk over.)

MULDER: While they're performing the autopsy, I want to go down to the...

(Mulder and Scully watch from a short distance as he frees himself. He throws off the straitjacket, takes the key and looks at the agents.)

BLOCKHEAD: How many people do you know that can get out of a straitjacket in under three minutes?

SCULLY: Fortunately, none.

MULDER: We caught your act yesterday at the funeral. That was some trick with the railroad spike.

(Blockhead unlocks his restraints and jumps down.)

BLOCKHEAD: Doctor Blockhead does not perform "tricks."

(He walks over to a toolbox and opens it up. He takes out a hammer and a nail. There are a number of skull pins next to the nails. Mulder and Scully walk over to him.)

Doctor Blockhead performs "astounding acts of body manipulation and pain endurance."

(He puts the nail in his left nostril and begins tapping it into his head as Mulder and Scully watch on in horror and awe.)

SCULLY: You must be one of those rare individuals whose... nerve endings don't register pain.

(He puts the hammer down and pulls out a pair of pliers.)

BLOCKHEAD: You just keep telling yourself that.

MULDER: Have you ever performed this tr, uh, act on anyone else?

BLOCKHEAD: What, are you sick? I tell my audiences that if they're stupid enough to try this themselves, they'll end up with a slight lobotomy. I am a professional.

MULDER: Exactly how does one become a professional blockhead? May I?

(He takes the pliers and starts to pull the nail out from Blockhead's head.)

BLOCKHEAD: Starting in my homeland of Yemen, I studied with yogis, fakirs and swamis, learning the ancient arts of body manipulation.

(Scully and Mulder grimace all through Blockhead's speaking as he slowly pulls out the nail. Mulder looks at the bloody nail.)

But most men know nothing of these arts. For instance, did you know that through the protective Chinese practice of Tiea Bu Shan, you can train your testicles to draw up into your abdomen?

MULDER: Oh, I'm doing that as we speak.

(The Conundrum pops out of the vat, gasping for air. They all look at him in shock.)

I saw him this morning down by the river, he was eating a fish.

BLOCKHEAD: He knows between-show snacks will ruin his appetite.

(He rubs the Conundrum's bald head.)

MULDER: I could be mistaken. Maybe it was another bald-headed, jigsaw-puzzle-tattooed, naked guy I saw.

SCULLY: Is this... man also a body manipulator?

BLOCKHEAD: No. In the classical sense, the Conundrum's a geek.

MULDER: He eats live animals.

BLOCKHEAD: He eats anything... live animals, dead animals, rocks, light bulbs, corkscrews, battery cables, cranberries...

SCULLY: Human flesh?

BLOCKHEAD: Only the Conundrum can answer that question. But he doesn't answer questions, he merely... poses them.

(He takes out a jar of crickets.)

When an audience partakes in the Conundrum's human piranha act, they are left to ask themselves...

(He pours out some crickets onto the Conundrum's head, who eats them joyously.)

"Why." But... where are my manners?

(He holds out the jar to the agents.)

SCULLY: Thank you.

(She takes a cricket, puts it in her mouth, smiles and walks away. Mulder looks at her, then at the crickets, and leaves. He catches up to Scully, and watches her in disbelief. She smiles, reaches behind Mulder's ear, and "pulls out" the live cricket.)

It's an old sleight of hand my uncle once taught me. He was only an amateur magician, but he was still better than those two.

MULDER: Well, I'm going over to the lab to see if they can test the blood on the window against the blood on Doctor Blockhead's nail.

(He holds out his hand, then moves it in a clockwise direction. When he finishes the circle, he is holding out the nail. He starts off.)

Everybody's uncle is an amateur magician.

(Scully walks into the old cabin. The bell rings as the door opens. There is a sign next to a pot that says "Freaks Free; Others Please Leave Donation." Scully walks over to it, puts a bill in, and starts looking around. She looks at a picture of siamese twins. Passing various strange things in jars, she picks up another picture of the siamese twins. They are named Chang and Eng. The curator walks out behind her. His face is disfigured and is reflected in a small mirror.)

CURATOR: Welcome to my museum. May I put to rest any questions you may have conjured?

SCULLY: I was just reading about the fascinating life of Chang and Eng and wondering if their death was just as fascinating.

CURATOR: Oh, very much so. On a cold January eve in 1874, Eng awoke to find his brother had passed away during the course of the night. A few hours later, Eng himself departed from this world. Now, these facts themselves may be less than fascinating but imagine... imagine being Eng and lying there.

(He puts his disfigured hand on her shoulder.)

Knowing that essentially half your body was now dead... that the rest must inevitably follow... and being able to do about it absolutely nothing. At the autopsy, it was officially concluded that Chang died of a cerebral hemorrhage.

SCULLY: And what was the official cause of Eng's death?

CURATOR: Fright.

(He smiles and starts to walk away.)

SCULLY: Do you have any information on blockhead or geek acts?

(They walk into another room.)

CURATOR: This is a historical collection of human curiosities. Blockheads are skilled performers.

SCULLY: Like magicians?

CURATOR: Like sword swallowers who really do swallow swords. And geeks are neither skilled nor curiosities. They're merely unseemly... not even attaining the level of "gaffs."

SCULLY: "Gaffs?"

(The curator takes a picture of two siamese twins who look very different.)

CURATOR: Observe closely the dissimilarity of the facial features. Conjoined twins are always identical. These twins are phonies... gaffs.

SCULLY: Sort of like the Feejee Mermaid?

(He laughs and puts the picture down.)

CURATOR: You're investigating the Alligator Man's murder, yes? I have something I believe you might find of some interest.

(He hands her a picture of "Jim-Jim, the Dog-Faced Boy.")

SCULLY: What does this have to do with the Glazebrook murder?

CURATOR: I've recently come into possession of an authentic P.T. Barnum exhibit. Now, I don't show this display to all my customers... only those with the intellectual curiosity to appreciate it.

(He walks over to a door behind Scully.)

Barnum billed it as "the great unknown."

(He opens the door. Scully is about to enter, but he stops her.)

I must first ask of you two favors. Tell no soul what you witness in here.

SCULLY: And the second favor?

CURATOR: An additional donation of five dollars.

(She hands him five dollars and steps inside the dark room. He locks the door behind her. She walks over to the only object in the room, a trunk cast in a spotlight. She tentatively opens the trunk to find... nothing. A door swings open to her left with an "Exit" sign above it. A buzzer goes off and she looks down at the trunk, smiling slightly at having been duped.)

(Mulder hears a clanking and a groaning underneath the trailer. He looks under and sees a small figure moving around. He walks over to where the small figure is, unhooking his holster. He kneels down and Mister Nutt crawls out.)

MULDER: Does Agent Scully know that you're under her crawlspace?

NUTT: I was merely repairing the plumbing on this unit. I know what you're thinking, my friend, but you are grossly mistaken.

(He and Mulder stand.)

Just because I am not of so-called "average" height does not mean I must receive my thrills vicariously. Not all woman are attracted to overly tall, lanky men such as yourself. You'd be surprised how many women find my size intriguingly alluring.

MULDER: And you'd be surprised how many men do as well.

(Nutt, offended and disgusted, walks off. Mulder looks at his footprints. Scully steps out of her trailer.)

SCULLY: Oh, it's you. Is Mister Nutt finished with the plumbing?

(Inside, Mulder and Scully sit across from each other.)

MULDER: The blood from the window matched the blood from the nail but they were both O-positive. They've been sent for further analysis. I ran a background check on Doctor Blockhead. His real name is Jeffrey Swaim and he wasn't born in Yemen, he was born in Milwaukee. He does not hold a doctorate.

SCULLY: Well, I ended up running a bit of a background check myself.

MULDER: On who?

(She flips open a folder.)

SCULLY: On an orphan discovered in the wild forest of Albania in 1943. "Although physically adept at catching his own food, he could not speak a word, save for a few savage grunts. Brought to this country, he was exhibited behind a locked cage, necessitated by his feral ferocity, where he would terrify onlookers by devouring chunks of raw meat." However, for reasons I could not ascertain, he ran away from the circus and spent a vague number of years mysteriously roaming about, supporting himself through a number of non-descript jobs. Eventually, he wound up in Gibsonton, where he took up a career in law enforcement and has spent the past four terms serving as sheriff.

MULDER: You're talking about Sheriff Hamilton?

SCULLY: I'm telling you that before becoming Sheriff Hamilton, James Hamilton was Jim-Jim, the Dog-Faced Boy.

(She hands him the picture given to her by the curator.)

(Sheriff Hamilton is digging a hole in the front yard with a shovel. Scully and Mulder are in the bushes watching him. Hamilton looks up at the full moon, then cuts something, rubs it on his hand and throws it into the hole. He recovers the hole and walks inside. Mulder and Scully wait until he is gone, then walk over to the hole and start to uncover it. Mulder is using a shovel while Scully is playing look-out. Mulder stops and they whisper to each other.)

MULDER: You know, Scully, hypertricosis does not connote lycanthropy.

SCULLY: What are you implying?

MULDER: We're being highly discriminatory here. Just because a man was once inflicted with excessive hairiness, we've no reason to suspect him of aberrant behavior.

SCULLY: It's like assuming guilt based solely on skin color, isn't it?

MULDER: Yeah.

(They look at each other, then kneel down and start digging with their hands. Mulder takes out a napkin and puts the object in it. Hamilton walks out and shines a flashlight on them.)

HAMILTON: May I ask what you're doing?

MULDER: We're exhuming... your potato.

(He holds up the napkin with the sliced potato that Hamilton buried and they unearthed.)

HAMILTON: May I ask why?

(They stand.)

SCULLY: Sheriff, it, it's, it's been documented that many serial killers possess a fascination with police work, some of them even holding positions on their local force... so surveillance of investigation team members is often utilized as a precautionary...

MULDER: We found out you used to be the Dog-Faced Boy.

(He hands Hamilton the advertisement of the Dog-Faced Boy. Hamilton looks at it and smiles.)

HAMILTON: Boy, look how skinny I was back then.

SCULLY: So that is you.

HAMILTON: Oh, sure. I spent the first half of my life as Jim-Jim. Then one morning I noticed a bald spot on top of my head and realized I was not only losing my hair but my career as well. Eventually all the hair went... on top of my head, anyways. The rest of my body is still pretty hairy, which is why I never go to the beach.

SCULLY: That doesn't quite explain the potato.

HAMILTON: I got, uh... some warts on my hand.

MULDER: That doesn't quite explain the potato.

HAMILTON: To get rid of warts, you rub a sliced potato on your hand and bury it under a full moon.

(Mulder and Scully look embarrassed.)

Investigation isn't going too well, is it?

(Mulder throws the potato back in the hole.)

(The Conundrum walks along, a piece of paper in his shorts. The manager's dog starts barking at him, and he runs after it. After chasing it for a while, the dog runs into his doggy-door and the Conundrum slides after it, just missing it. Mister Nutt opens the door and looks at him. The Conundrum stands, ashamed, and hands him the paper with one of Blockhead's skull pins in it. Nutt looks at it, and it is a check with the name "The Conundrum" at the top. Nutt closes the door.)

NUTT: So, tell me, Commodore... why are the weirdos the only ones that pay their rent checks in advance?

(He walks away, but the dog continues growling and barking at the door.)

I warn you, you tattooed cretin, I have a licensed firearm and I'm more than eager for an opportunity to use it!

(He goes to open the door when the mutant's hand reaches out and grabs his ankle. He screams as he falls to the ground. The thing pulls his foot through the door and starts trying to pull Nutt through as he looks on in horror. He finally kicks it away and crawls back in. The mutant shoves it's head through the door, screaming. Nutt screams as well.)

(A man with bloody hands unlocks the door and walks in, waking Scully up. She sits up in bed, pointing her gun. Lanny puts his bloody hands on her shoulders.)

LANNY: I found him. He's dead. He's dead...

(She looks at him, confused.)

(Hamilton points out the blood on the outside of the doggy-door to Scully)

HAMILTON: Lanny says all of the doors and windows were locked from the inside.

(Inside, Mulder is looking at Nutt's body. Lanny is also there, standing of to the side in his robe.)

MULDER: Scully, come here!

LANNY: He was like a brother to me...

(Hamilton puts his hand on Lanny's shoulder. Scully kneels down next to Mulder.)

MULDER: I don't know if a contortionist can get through that doggy-door, Scully, but look at this...

(He shows her the skull pin, which is in Nutt's hand. Lanny starts screaming and banging on the door. Hamilton grabs him and turns him around.)

HAMILTON: Lanny! Lanny! Take it easy. You're going to hurt yourself.

LANNY: So what?

HAMILTON: So you might hurt me in the process.

(Scully looks a little disappointed. Lanny hugs Hamilton, who looks at the agents.)

He gets this way sometimes. I'll have to toss him in the drunk tank.

MULDER: We'll take Jeffrey Swaim into custody.

HAMILTON: C'mon, Lanny, let's go...

(They walk out. Mulder stands up and walks to the door.)

SCULLY: You know, Mulder...

(She stands.)

For a while there, I was beginning to suspect this case involved something a bit more, um...

MULDER: Freakish?

(She shrugs a little and nods, kind of like an embarrassed "yes.")

You really shouldn't complain about banality, Scully, when your main suspect is the human blockhead.

(He smiles and starts out.)

(In the drunk tank, Lanny moans and groans. He has blood on his hands still, and his eyes open when he ears a slithering sound. He looks onto the ceiling and sees something horrific.)

LANNY: What the hell?

(The thing on the ceiling squeals happily as it crawls to the window. Lanny screams.)

No! No!

(Hamilton leads Blockhead into the station by the arm. Mulder and Scully follow quickly.)

BLOCKHEAD: This has all the makings of one of those mistaken identity, miscarriage of justice things that prove so popular on Sixty Minutes.

(Hamilton sits him down. Mulder holds up a bag containing the skull pin. Hamilton sits at his desk.)

MULDER: Does this belong to you?

BLOCKHEAD: The fifth amendment of our beloved constitution says...

(He stops and everyone turns when they hear a high-pitched moaning.)

MULDER: What is that?

HAMILTON: It's Lanny in the drunk tank. He'll be all right once he sleeps it off.

(Scully is looking down the hallway at Lanny.)

SCULLY: No, I don't think he's going to sleep this one off.

(They all run over to Lanny's cell, including Blockhead, who is led by Mulder. They look at Lanny, who looks dead, blood on his hands. There is blood on the wall underneath the window.)

MULDER: There's been another attack.

HAMILTON: How could anyone have gotten in there?

SCULLY: No one got in, but some one got out.

(Lanny moans. Hamilton unlocks the door.)

MULDER: What are you talking about?

SCULLY: I'm not sure myself, Mulder, but I think we'll know more when we find Leonard.

MULDER: Leonard?

SCULLY: Lanny's brother.

(The agents walk in, followed by the others. Scully rolls Lanny over and pulls his robe away to reveal that Leonard is gone and there is a wound where he once was.)

HAMILTON: Oh, God, they extracted the twin.

SCULLY: No, the twin extracted itself.

(Mulder kneels down and looks at the wound.)

MULDER: But it's an appendage...

SCULLY: Yeah, Mulder... this wound is identical to the other victims' wounds. With one exception. He's not bleeding.

(Mulder stands.)

HAMILTON: If you're trying to tell me his twin brother can crawl out of his body and then go gallivant around town, you're as drunk as he is.

(Scully stands up.)

SCULLY: You said it yourself, Sheriff. It's what's inside that counts. I have a feeling that Lanny has an internal anomaly that allows his conjoining twin to disjoin

MULDER: But, how? H-how...

LANNY: How could I turn him in without turning myself in?

SCULLY: Lanny, why does he attack other people?

LANNY: I don't think he knows he's harming anyone. He's merely seeking... another brother.

(He moans, almost crying.)

HAMILTON: Are you in pain, Lanny?

(Lanny sits up.)

LANNY: It hurts. It hurts not to be wanted. I don't know why he hates me so. I've taken care of him for all of our lives. Maybe that is the reason why.

SCULLY: How long can he survive outside of your body?

LANNY: Long enough... to understand that you cannot change the way you were born. Don't worry. He'll come back. He always does. I'm still his only brother.

(Lanny lays back down.)

MULDER: Sheriff, we're going to need the paramedics.

(Hamilton runs off.)

Scully, you're the medical expert. If you think the twin can disengage, I believe you but how mobile could such a thing be?

(Scully looks out the window and sees a small figure crawl along the ground quickly. The gate in the back swings open.)

SCULLY: Too mobile.

(Scully looks at him and runs out. Mulder follows. Blockhead looks at Lanny.)

BLOCKHEAD: So your twin can, uh...

(He makes a "going out" motion.)

And then...

(He makes a "coming in" motion. Lanny nods.)

What an act!

(Scully and Mulder run out of the gate to the nearest building, which is large and brown. They hear a snarling growl.)

SCULLY: I'll cover the back.

(She runs off and Mulder runs up the steps. He flicks the switch next to the door and the generator turns on. Taking out his gun, he opens the door and begins walking down the dark hallway. He peeks around the corner and sees Leonard crawl backwards down the adjacent hallway away from Mulder. Mulder aims his gun, but is too late. He runs that way and turns the corner. He runs down the next hallway. Turning the corner, he finds a dead end. He pushes against it, then heads back. Scully hears another growl then some footsteps. She turns the corner and points her gun.)

Freeze!

(A rumbling starts and a suspended mannequin with a head similar to Leonard's comes flying at her on a rope from the ceiling and stops, cackling and making strange noises.)

The funhouse.

(Mulder turns another corner and finds another dead end. He hears a growl and sees Leonard crawling away again. He runs down that hallway and quickly turns the corner, slamming into a wall. He staggers into the adjacent wall, which spins around, taking Mulder with it. Scully walks into the hall of mirrors. Everywhere around her, there are Scullys. She hears another growl and turns to see Leonard on the ground. She fires at him but only ends up breaking the mirror that reflected him. She looks at the shards and sees Leonard is nowhere around. She starts walking down a hallway and bumps into a mirror. Turning left, she walks down another hallway and Mulder slides out of a shaft in front of her. She instinctively points her gun, but steps back when she sees who it is.)

MULDER: I thought I heard a shot fired.

SCULLY: I think we better go outside and catch this thing coming out.

(She steps over Mulder and walks down the hallway. The agents run out and see Leonard crawling into the woods. They run down the road and point their guns at another small figure. The figure starts barking and they lower their guns.)

It's the manager's dog.

MULDER: The trailer park.

(The dog leads them through the forest.)

(The Conundrum steps out of his trailer, carrying a garbage bag. He puts it in the can as Leonard sneaks up behind him. He turns and screams as the mutant jumps onto him and starts biting. Mulder and Scully run into the park, hearing screaming and shrieking. They come to the Conundrum's trailer and see him lying on the ground, looking a little bloated. They kneel down next to him.)

SCULLY: Are you all right?

MULDER: Have you seen a, uh... uh...

(He tries to show how big it is, but runs off in frustration, not expecting an answer. Scully runs off as well. The Conundrum looks at his stomach and rubs it as it gurgles contentedly.

(In the morning, the sheriff is talking to a deputy. Scully is walking slowly towards the middle of the camp.)

HAMILTON: Uh, check out the area behind that trailer. Let me know what you find.

(The deputy walks off and Hamilton turns to Scully.)

Now, you're sure it was the twin you saw running around here. I mean, maybe it was the Fiji Mermaid and he jumped back in the river and swum his way back to Fiji.

(Hamilton walks away as Mulder walks up to her.)

MULDER: Now you know how I feel.

(Mulder keeps walking. Scully walks up to Doctor Blockhead, who is tying various pieces of junk to the roof of his car. The Conundrum gets into the front seat.)

SCULLY: You're taking off?

BLOCKHEAD: With that thing still on the loose?

SCULLY: They've been searching for it all day. It can't have sustained itself for this long.

BLOCKHEAD: It will probably try to crawl back up into it's brother.

SCULLY: No, his brother Lanny died last night. I already performed the autopsy on him this morning.

(Blockhead throws the rope over and walks around the car.)

BLOCKHEAD: So, I guess it's true, you can never go home again.

SCULLY: His body wounds were non-fatal. He died as a result of advanced cirrhosis of the liver.

(Blockhead starts tying things on this side.)

BLOCKHEAD: Oh, there's a moral to the story. Lay off the booze.

SCULLY: Well, his body possesses some anatomical discrepancies... some offshoots of the esophagus and trachea that almost seem umbilical in nature and... I've never seen anything like it.

(Blockhead finishes tying.)

BLOCKHEAD: And you never will again. Twenty-first century genetic engineering will not only eradicate the siamese twins and the alligator-skinned people, but you're going to be hard-pressed to find, uh, a slight overbite or a not-so-high cheek bone. You see, I've seen the future and the future looks just like him.

(He points at Mulder, who is standing in front of a trailer in a classic model pose. Hands on his hips, one foot up on the step, looking off into the distance.)

Imagine going through your whole life looking like that. That's why it's left up to the self-made freaks like me and the Conundrum to remind people.

SCULLY: Remind people of what?

BLOCKHEAD: Nature abhors normality. It can't go very long without creating a mutant. Do you know why?

SCULLY: No, why?

BLOCKHEAD: I don't either, it's a mystery. Maybe some mysteries are never meant to be solved.

(He gets in the driver's side as Mulder walks over. He looks at the Conundrum, who looks sick.)

MULDER: What's the matter with your friend?

BLOCKHEAD: I don't know what his problem is. Maybe it's the Florida heat.

SCULLY: Hope it's nothing serious.

CONUNDRUM: Probably something I ate.

(He smiles at the agents and the two freaks drive off. Scully and Mulder watch them go, then look at each other in realization.)

[THE END]