The characters, plotlines, quotes, etc. included here are owned by Chris Carter and 1013 Productions, all rights reserved. The following transcript is in no way a substitute for the show "The X-Files" and is merely meant as a homage. This transcript is not authorized or endorsed by Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, or Fox Entertainment. It was painstakingly typed out by Libby and DrWeesh, and made available for your personal enjoyment by me, DrWeesh from my website, InsideTheX.


(A snowscape. Something small punches up through snow. It's round, it rotates. It's a small periscope. Inside the Gunmen's VW, a monitor shows the snowscape through the periscope. LANGLY is shivering.)

LANGLY: A whole lot of white. That's what I'm getting. I told you this was a stupid place to park.

(Their van is completely snowed in.)

BYERS: And I told you to dress appropriately.

LANGLY: I've got 42 T-shirts on. I can't feel my legs.

BYERS: Stay focussed. Ten more minutes and we'll have what we need.

FROHIKE: (on radio) Ice Station Zebra. Ice Station Zebra, do you read me?

(FROHIKE is walking through the snow on snow shoes. He's dressed in a white ski outfit.)

BYERS: (into radio) Loud and clear. What do you see?

FROHIKE: (on radio) Nothing yet, but I'm scoping major heat. Somebody's coming. (Walter STUKAS skies past.) Oh yeah, there's our poacher. He should be on your grid now. Skiing north, towards the border. He's coming your way down the hill, Jimmy.

JIMMY: (on radio) I read you, Zebra. I'm in position. This is Snowflake, by the way.

(JIMMY is dressed in black.)

LANGLY: I told you not to let him pick his own name.

JIMMY: (on radio) I've got two men of Asian extraction, who just arrived by snowmobile.

(JIMMY takes photos.)

BYERS: (on radio) Those are the buyers. It's up to you now, Jimmy - Snowflake. Make sure you get a shot of the merchandise changing hands.

JIMMY: (on radio) Here he comes.

(But STUKAS heads away from the Asian BUYERS.)

JIMMY: Whoa. What's he doing?

BYERS: (on radio) What's going on?

JIMMY: (on radio) He just skied off. He's not heading to the meeting.

FROHIKE: (on radio) Damn it, Jimmy.

LANGLY: (on radio) Did you let him see your face?

JIMMY: (on radio) He didn't see me. It must be something else. I'll find out what.

(JIMMY skies in pursuit. Very nice sequence with the cameraman either on skis or a snowmobile.)

(STUKAS meets up with another skier. JIMMY takes a number of photos. When STUKAS goes to move off, JIMMY starts after him but ends up skiing into a tree. He's knocked out. STUKAS pulls the film out of the camera, putting it down in the snow. He skis away. JIMMY's right leg looks very badly injured.)



(Cut to bright light - a DOCTOR is examining JIMMY'S eyes.)

DR BROMBERG: Mr. Bond. Are you with me?

JIMMY: Where am I?

DR BROMBERG: You don't recall having this conversation already? You're in St. Jude's Hospital, in Bellingham.

JIMMY: Washington, right?

DR BROMBERG: Exactly. You had a bad accident while you were skiing. I'm your surgeon, Dr. Bromberg, I did the ligament work on your leg. It should heal up fine. You have quite a concussion. I want to keep you here a couple more days, make sure you're okay. You up for a visit.

JIMMY: Yeah.

(DR BROMBERG signals the GUNMEN to enter and leaves the room.)

JIMMY: Hey guys. Guess what? It seems that I have been in some sort of skiing accident.

BYERS: We know, Jimmy. We brought you here.

LANGLY: You remember, don't you? Please tell me, you remember.

JIMMY: I... yeah... I do sort of remember skiing, now that I think about it.

FROHIKE: But what did you see out there?

JIMMY: I don't know. What?

LANGLY: Oh god. I can't do any more surveillance out there. I've got thin blood.

BYERS: Jimmy, see if this rings any bells for you. There's a poacher up here. A survivalist and ex-con by the name of Walter Stukas.

FROHIKE: Total anti-government nut job. He did time for murder. He recycles his own urine.

BYERS: And he traps and kills Grizzly Bears. Their whole species is threatened, their numbers are diminishing. But this man kills these magnificent animals for their gall bladders.

FROHIKE: Worth ten times their weight in gold on the Asian black market.

LANGLY: The Triad smuggles them through western Canada to mainland China.

FROHIKE: Now, if we can catch them in the act and get the evidence, we can get one hell of a story. And the cops, they can shut him down.

BYERS: Jimmy... please... stopping this means a lot to me. You have to remember.

(Nurse MARILYN enters the room.)

MARILYN: So, you're awake. How are you feeling?

JIMMY: Really, really frustrated. If I can't clear my head, a lot of bears are going to die.

FROHIKE: Well, hang in there, buddy.

(The GUNMEN leave.)

MARILYN: Well, Jimmy, my name is Marilyn. And if there is anything that I can do to make you feel better, you be sure to let me know. So... your girlfriend must have been terribly worried about you.

JIMMY: I don't have one.

MARILYN: Oh. I have to give you an injection. It's pain medication for your leg.

JIMMY: Okay. (He pulls up his sleeve, Nurse MARILYN shakes her head.) Not in the arm?

MARILYN: Doctor's orders. (JIMMY rolls on his side.) Oh my!


MARILYN: Nothing. Now what else can I do for you? Sponge bath maybe. What is it that you want?

JIMMY: Cotton balls. Lots and lots of cotton balls.


(The camouflaged VW is parked in monitoring distance of a shack in a compound.)

LANGLY: How can anybody live up here?

BYERS: Think warm thoughts, like how good it will feel to see this man, Stukas, arrested. Well hello, Mr. Stukas.

(STUKAS has appeared on their monitors.)

LANGLY: He can't see us, can he?

(There is a banging on the van and FROHIKE lets himself in.)

LANGLY: Ah, crap. It's cold.

FROHIKE: Sorry. Oh man, what a nut. That guy's so paranoid he makes us look normal.

BYERS: What did you find out?

FROHIKE: He's completely off grid. Makes his own electricity, no phones, whole lot of spanning.

BYERS: He's coming out again.

FROHIKE: Is that what I think it is?

BYERS: Oh god. (STUKAS hangs a bear skin over a line.) Somebody ought to shoot and skin him.

LANGLY: Byers, man, I mean, the guy's scum. But, come on, why are you taking this so personally?

FROHIKE: Are you okay, buddy?

BYERS: I just want to put a stop to this. And if we have to sit here until he decides to sell some more of his merchandise... Let's just hope Jimmy remembers something useful.

LANGLY: He better be killing himself trying.


(Inside Jimmy's hospital room.)

(JIMMY is watching 'America's Most Wanted'.)

ANNOUNCER: (on television.) America fights back. And now, John Walsh.

JOHN WALSH: Tonight I need your help capturing one of the slipperiest killers we've ever come across. Richard Millikan is a doctor, an arthroscopic surgeon, but apparently he's forgotten his Hippocratic Oath. The one that says: 'do the patient no harm'.

JIMMY: Whoa.

JOHN WALSH: In one ten month period at one of Denver's busiest hospitals, Dr. Millikan had four patients die on his operating table. Bad luck? Hardly. Turns out he was poisoning them.

JIMMY: Man. If you can't trust your doctor, who can you trust?

JOHN WALSH: In the Fall of 1999, 56 year old Melvin Graydo, checked into Denver's Holy Cross Hospital to undergo arthroscopic knee surgery. Little did he know, he'd never be checking out.

(TV changes to Fox News. JIMMY switches the TV back.)

JOHN WALSH: Why would a doctor poison his own patients? Or perhaps it offered Millikan a chance to be heroic in the operating room. Or maybe -

(TV switches back to Fox News.)

JIMMY: Hey, I was watching 'America's Most Wanted'.

(JIMMY switches the TV back to AMW.)

MARILYN: Mr. Dimsdale, we talked about this. Don't be a TV hog.

DIMSDALE: Why can't I have a private room? With all the money I've shelled out, you could've built an extra wing to this dump.

(TV is switched back to Fox News.)

(Back to AMW.)

(Fox News.)


MARILYN: Jimmy. I'm sorry.

JIMMY: Who is that?

MARILYN: That's Mr. Dimsdale. I hate it when he's on my floor.

JIMMY: What? He's been here before?

MARILYN: Yeah, too many times. And he's always like this. I promise you, I never would have put him in your room if I had anywhere else to put him. So, I'm sorry, but he's in rather poor health, I don't want to get him riled up. Think you can try to ignore him... for me? Oh, oh, I got your supplies, everything you need.

(She brings in a large cardboard box.)

JIMMY: Oh man. Excellent! Nurse Marilyn, you're the best.

MARILYN: Thanks, but it's just Marilyn. So what are you going to do with all this stuff?

JIMMY: I can't remember what happened when I had my accident... and I really need to. So I figure if I can re-enact it, then I might remember what I forgot.

MARILYN: Re-enact?

JIMMY: Yeah. Like on 'America's Most Wanted', except without the actors. Instead I'll build a model that represents the scene of the crime, so to speak.

MARILYN: Wow. That's really interesting. (A bell rings.) I have to go, but if you need anything, you just push my button. The button... (She holds up the call button.) Button.

(MARILYN leaves and JIMMY turns his attention back to the TV.)

JOHN WALSH: That's where you come in. Unfortunately this the only photo we have of him. Now keep in mind he may have changed his appearance drastically in the past year. And here is one odd detail. Millikan is known for his sweet tooth. His pockets are usually filled with candy.

(Fox News, again.)


(The Operating Room. A monitor is showing image from arthroscope.)

PATIENT: Dr. Bromberg. Dr. Bromberg! I think I'm starting to feel my knee, it kinda hurts.

BROMBERG: How about it, Greg?

(The anaesthetist checks the monitors.)

GREG: He shouldn't be.

BROMBERG: You're mistaken, Mr. Keever. We're almost done. Just relax.

(Monitor shows image from arthroscope again.)

BROMBERG: Perfection. You'll be dancing.

(BROMBERG turns to his ASSISTANT.)

BROMBERG: Close up for me, will you?


(The scrub room. BROMBERG turns on the tap and splashes water on his face. Something starts to peel off his forehead. He checks this in the mirror and carefully smoothes back into place a false eyebrow.)

(In the OR, Mr. KEEVER starts having breathing difficulties.)

OR STAFF: What the hell?

ASSISTANT: He's seizing. Call the code.

(The heart monitor sounds a continuous note.)

(Scrub room. Dr. BROMBERG takes out a lollipop from his locker, unwraps it and puts it in his mouth with evident pleasure.)


(Fade to JIMMY'S bed. He's built a steep mountain scene using tongue depressors and cotton wool. A small figure in black with cotton buds for ski-poles and tongue depressors for skis. He has a cotton wool ball stuck in his hair. He picks up another toy, a snowmobile and, making sound effects, he moves the snowmobile to the top of the mountain.)

(Nurse MARILYN comes in.)

MARILYN: Good morning. So, how did you sleep?

JIMMY: Really good. This idea of going to the bathroom without getting out of bed (hands her a urine bottle) I really think that it's going to catch on in the civilian world.

(MARILYN laughs at JIMMY'S joke, then realizes he's serious. She looks closer at JIMMY'S mountain scene.)

MARILYN: Wow! I love your little man.

JIMMY: It's me. It's not quite to scale to the mountain, and I try to bend my knees more when I ski.

MARILYN: Well I think it's wonderful. In fact, I think you deserve a nice, warm sponge bath.

JIMMY: Oh, don't trouble yourself.

(MARILYN is disappointed, then looks at JIMMY'S notes.)

MARILYN: Nobody checked on you last night.

JIMMY: Uh uh.

MARILYN: I'm sorry. I know that they were dealing with a little situation.

DIMSDALE: 'A little situation.' Ha! That's a laugh. Some schmuck died on Bromberg's operating table, that's your little situation.

MARILYN: Mr. Dimsdale, please.

DIMSDALE: Tell me something, who dies during arthroscopic knee surgery?

JIMMY: Arthroscopic knee surgery? Dr. Bromberg is an arthroscopic surgeon?

DIMSDALE: He worked on you, didn't he? What did you think he was? A vet?

MARILYN: You know something, I have a hunch that there is a big ice cream bar in the residents lounge with your name on it. I will be right back.

(JIMMY likes the idea.)

(MARILYN leaves and goes to residents room on the other side of the corridor. YVES is in the corridor on the phone. A PATIENT dressed in a bathrobe walks by and eyes YVES as she puts down the phone and walks towards Jimmy's room. MARILYN comes out into the corridor with an ice cream bar, sees YVES going into JIMMY'S room and frowns, then flounces back into the residents room.)

JIMMY: Yves.

YVES: I heard you were laid up. How are you feeling?

JIMMY: Busted my leg up pretty good. But the doctor says it'll heal fine. Wait a minute, you came all the way out to Washington state just to check on me?

YVES: I was concerned about you.

JIMMY: No offence, but, since when? I always get the feeling that you think I'm kind of an idiot.

DIMSDALE: Gee lady, you too?

JIMMY: That's Mr. Dimsdale, we're supposed to ignore him.

(MARILYN enters the room.)

YVES: Jimmy, I'm perplexed. Why do you think I don't like you?

JIMMY: Wow. Okay. I tell you, I usually have a great sense for when women dig me...

(MARILYN pulls on the cable holding JIMMY'S leg, JIMMY screams.)

MARILYN: I'm sorry.

(She flounces out. YVES looks at JIMMY'S mountain scene.)

YVES: I had no idea you were so creative. What does this represent?

JIMMY: Well, basically it's to help me remember what happened on the day of my accident.

YVES: You don't remember?

JIMMY: I get flashes here and there. Like, I remember I had Pop Tarts in the morning, but I can't remember what kind.

(YVES is suddenly less concerned.)

YVES: Jimmy, all the best. Have a swift recovery.

(She leaves and MARILYN returns.)

JIMMY: (to Yves) Don't I get a kiss?

MARILYN: Time for your injection.

JIMMY: Wait, don't I get ice cream?

(MARILYN rolls JIMMY on his side and injects him, none too gently, JIMMY screams.)


(Inside the Gunmen's VW.)

BYERS: Guys, wake up. Frohike. Frohike.

LANGLY: Whoa. Why does he have a rifle?

FROHIKE: Ah, he can't know we're here, right?

(Shots sound close to the van, the GUNMEN dive out into the snow, BYERS and LANGLY landing on top of FROHIKE.)

FROHIKE: Get off of me.

(They investigate the shots and see STUKAS shooting cans.)

FROHIKE: He wasn't shooting at us.

LANGLY: Wow. Don't I feel lucky.

(A courier van pulls up outside the compound.)

FROHIKE: What do you figure? Does Mr. I-Hate-Civilisation have a penpal?

BYERS: I'd certainly love to find out.


(Back in JIMMY'S room. JIMMY is talking softly.)

JIMMY: 56 hours ago, I was midway down the slope right about - here.

DIMSDALE: Shut up over there!

JIMMY: Frohike was positioned up, near the tree line, which puts the rising sun -

DIMSDALE: People are suffering here, we need some peace and quiet! Is that too much to ask? I mean, can't you get that through your little brain.

JIMMY: You know what? That's it. I don't care how old you are, you need to learn some manners.

DIMSDALE: Come and get me! Come on! Ah, you're all talk. Come one! Where are ya? Where are ya, tough guy. Uh. I'm not afraid of the likes of you. I may be old but I can still whip your butt.

(JIMMY falls. He sees a pair of legs appear the other side of MR DIMSDALE'S bed. MR DIMSDALE puts on his slippers and shuffles round the bed. MARILYN comes running in. DIMSDALE puts up his fists towards JIMMY.)

DIMSDALE: And there's more where that came from.

(MARILYN goes over to JIMMY, DR BROMBERG runs in.)

DR BROMBERG: What the hell is going on here.

DIMSDALE: Hey, I'm not a doctor but the boy needs more meds. He's rambunctious.

JIMMY: That man's a lunatic.

DIMSDALE: And I'm not gonna feel safe unless he's tied down.

DR BROMBERG: Be quiet, both of you! Please. I can't hear myself think.

(As he bends over JIMMY, a lollipop falls out of his top pocket. JIMMY picks it up. MARILYN and DR BROMBERG help JIMMY back onto his bed.)

JIMMY: Doctor, you dropped this.


JIMMY: So, you have a sweet tooth?

DR BROMBERG: I suppose.

JIMMY: I'm sorry your patient died last night.

(DR BROMBERG looks carefully at JIMMY, nods slightly at him, then leaves.)


(Inside the VW, a monitor is showing delivery and shipping information:)

Enter Delivery Address:
  Rout 3 Union Trail, N. Diablo,
  Washington, USA.
  phone: (564) 555-0156

Shipping Address:
  Shiny Health Medical Group
  10131 Shaoguan Blvd.,
  E, Shanghai, Shanghai, China.
  phone: 086-21-5559192.

BYERS: Shiny Health Medical Group.

LANGLY: From Sha - Sha -

FROHIKE: Shanghai, China. I bet their motto is: 'A Grizzly gall bladder a day keeps the doctor away'.

BYERS: Those are our buyers all right. What would they be sending by overnight letter to our poacher?

FROHIKE: The location of their next meeting?

BYERS: That's what I'm guessing. Which is why we've got to steal a look.

(LANGLY sneezes. The phone rings and LANGLY answers it.)


JIMMY: It's me. I'm on to something big.

BYERS: You remember what happened?

JIMMY: No. How could I? I broke my diorama. Listen, guys, my doctor is a killer. He was on 'America's Most Wanted'. He's got a different name and hair and all, but I think it's really him.

BYERS: What proof do you have?

JIMMY: I got this.

(He holds up a lollipop.)

BYERS: You're on the phone, Jimmy.

JIMMY: It's a sucker. The guy eats suckers. (LANGLY disconnects the call.) Guys? I think we have a bad connection. Guys?

11:42 P.M.

(Outside the hospital. Cut to inside. A door slowly opens, but no-one's there. Then we hear JIMMY grunting. The door closes again, then we see hands reaching up to the handles of a wheelchair. JIMMY'S head comes into view as he hauls himself up, then the wheelchair tips backwards.)

(Cut to office. JIMMY is in the corridor having successfully got himself into the wheelchair. He sees someone in the office and wheels back out of sight until she's gone. Then he manoeuvrers the wheelchair into the office, banging his plastered leg painfully on the doorframe. He looks around the office, then sees a clipboard with a list of "Tomorrow's Surgeries". He traces his fingers down the list.)

JIMMY: Bromberg, Bromberg.

(He stops when he finds Bromberg's name and sees the name of the patient.)

JIMMY: Old Mr. Dimsdale. He's next.

(Fade to black, then to JIMMY back in his bed.)

DR BROMBERG: Please just fill out the form, Mr. Dimsdale, you're holding up my entire staff.

DIMSDALE: Nazi Germany! This is how it starts.

MARILYN: Don't forget the next of kin.

(DIMSDALE looks sharply at her.)

MARILYN: It's just in case of emergency.

DIMSDALE: In case of emergency? What he hell is he for? (indicates the DOCTOR.) I don't have any kin, next or otherwise.

(He signs the form and hands it to DR BROMBERG.)

DIMSDALE: (to MARILYN) Satisfied?

DR BROMBERG: Very well. I'll see you in a few hours, Mr. Dimsdale. In the OR.


JIMMY: Mr. Dimsdale, you can't go through with this operation.

DIMSDALE: Why not?

JIMMY: Because I have reason to suspect that that man is a murderer. There was a story on 'America's Most Wanted', a doctor, named Millikan from Denver. He poisoned four of his patients and then disappeared. I think that Bromberg may, in fact, be this Dr. Millikan.

DIMSDALE: Just how hard did you fall out of bed?

JIMMY: Listen, they said that this Millikan has a sweet tooth. See. (Holding up lollipop.) And that he probably changed his appearance. So, I snuck in and checked out his records. He's been here just under a year. That fits perfect with when Millikan disappeared from Denver.

DIMSDALE: Okay, Dick Tracy. There's the phone, call the cops.

JIMMY: I still don't have any proof.


(Back in the VW.)

BYERS: We have to get in there. We have to read that letter he received. That's our only hope.

LANGLY: Good luck. The guy doesn't wander 20 feet from the place.

FROHIKE: Maybe we should just pack it in for a while.

BYERS: Go if you have to. I'm staying 'til I've got him dead to rights.

LANGLY: Byers, we want to get the guy too. But what is with you and this story? Why are you taking it so personally?

BYERS: Do you remember 'Gentle Ben'?

FROHIKE: The TV show?

BYERS: I loved it as a kid. Gentle Ben had this huge furry neck. I couldn't even have gotten my arms around it. But I wished so badly I could hug him. I wished I could have had him as my pet. Then, when I was twelve years old, my family and I went camping. We saw a Grizzly for real.


BYERS: No. I was petrified. He was a rogue male. We watched him overturn a dumpster the size of a car.

FROHIKE: Not so gentle Ben.

BYERS: He wouldn't leave, so the park rangers had to shoot him. And afterwards, I remember looking at him lying there and I realized, once he was gone there would be no more like him.

FROHIKE: Hey, I think I know something that'd get that joker out of his cabin.


(Inside the hospital, YVES is talking with JIMMY.)

YVES: Someone wants to murder him? (indicating DIMSDALE) Frankly I have no trouble believing that. But as for the rest of it, killer surgeons and so forth...

JIMMY: Yves, there's not a lot of time.

YVES: What do you want me to do?

JIMMY: Computers. Hack into the memory banks of the... you know. Do the thing with the internet. Look up the file with the - on the computer, so that we can bust the guy.

DIMSDALE: You know, I can't set the clock on my VCR. Yet I'm fairly certain, what you just said is a whole bunch of crap. Why are you with him?

YVES: I'm not with him.

DIMSDALE: Well leave me out of your dementia. I want my new hip.

(MARILYN opens the door.)

MARILYN: Mr. Dimsdale. You have a visitor, your son. Oh, just so you know, I'm changing the next of kin on your form.

MR DIMSDALE'S SON: Well, are you going to invite me in?

DIMSDALE: No. Go away.

MR DIMSDALE'S SON: Come on, Pop.

DIMSDALE: Go away.

(His SON leaves.)

YVES: (to JIMMY) This is the man you want to help?


(Cut to large knife being sharpened on a pedal-driven grinding machine. It's STUKAS. Suddenly there are "roar" sounds. STUKAS looks around. There's something in the bushes. It looks vaguely bear-ish. STUKAS takes down a rifle, licking his lips. The roars continue and we see a bearskin, under which is LANGLY.)

LANGLY: Oh, gall bladder! Oh, you know you want it! (into radio) Byers. What's happening now?

(The VW monitors show STUKAS moving away from the shack.)

BYERS: It's working, Langly. Get out of there.

LANGLY: See you later, sucker!

(LANGLY runs off.)

BYERS: Frohike, you're up.

(FROHIKE, in the woods, runs to Stukas' shack.)

(LANGLY, still covered in the bearskin, trips and falls. He tries to sit up and sees what's trapped him.)

LANGLY: Oh, crap!

(STUKAS is tracking through the woods. The letter is in his back pocket.)


(Inside Stukas' shack. Stacks of canned food.)

BYERS: (on radio) Frohike! Progress?

FROHIKE: I'm in.

(FROHIKE looks around then sees mail in a waste basket, including the courier envelope.)

BYERS: (on radio) Frohike? Any luck?

(The envelope is empty.)

FROHIKE: It's here somewhere. It's gotta be.


(In the woods, STUKAS is looking around then spots the "bear" on top of the trap. He aims his gun, then gets suspicious. He lowers the gun and edges over to the "bear". He prods it then pulls back the bearskin. The trap is there, so also are Langly's trousers. He grabs the trousers, ripping them free, then sniffs them and goes off in search of his quarry. LANGLY has been hiding behind a tree and moves away just as STUKAS finds the hiding places. As STUKAS edges forward, LANGLY appears briefly around the other side of the tree, and we see that under his trousers Langly is . . . . wearing orange tights.)

(Cut to the shack.)

FROHIKE: (into radio) I take it back. It's not here.

BYERS: (on radio) Keep looking. It has to be.

FROHIKE: I'm telling you, Byers. I've combed this place upside down.

(FROHIKE steps into a circle of wire which tightens around his ankle and hauls him up, dangling him from the ceiling.)

BYERS: Frohike! Frohike! Langly!

(Cut to STUKAS re-setting the bear trap. LANGLY is watching from behind the tree and sees the letter in STUKAS' back pocket. He reaches out for it.)

(Cut to shack. FROHIKE is swinging from the ceiling.)

BYERS: (on radio) Frohike. Get out of there.

FROHIKE: I got a little bit of a situation here, Byers.

(Cut to VW, BYERS is watching the monitors.)

BYERS: (into radio) Yes you do. He's coming back.

(Cut to shack. FROHIKE can see STUKAS through the window. FROHIKE tries desperately to swing his body up to the ceiling. STUKAS is slowly walking towards the door. FROHIKE makes another effort and disappears from view just as the door opens. STUKAS comes in, puts down his gun and peers through the curtains. The camera pans up and we see FROHIKE has managed to grab the antlers of a stuffed stag's head. STUKAS turns away from the window and reaches for the letter, realizes it's not there and leaves the shack. The stag's head no longer coping with FROHIKE'S weight, breaks and FROHIKE crashes for the floor.)


(The hospital. MR DIMSDALE is on a trolley.)

DR BROMBERG: Here we go.

(He starts wheeling MR DIMSDALE out of the room.)

JIMMY: Mr. Dimsdale, please re-consider what we talked about.

(But MR DIMSDALE ignores him. JIMMY is left alone, looking sad.)

(In the corridor, DR BROMBERG and MARILYN wheel MR DIMSDALE towards the OR. JIMMY comes out of his room, supporting himself on a crutch.)

JIMMY: Richard Millikan.

(MARILYN looks surprised. JIMMY points at DR BROMBERG.)

JIMMY: That's his real name. Not Bromberg, but Dr. Richard Millikan.

(PEOPLE have come out from adjoining rooms to listen.)

JIMMY: The Denver Doctor of Death. In disguise and murdering anew.

(He grabs DR BROMBERG'S wig and holds it aloft.)


JIMMY: Huh. Huh. Huh. And he's only been here a year, before that I couldn't find any record of him. And he likes suckers.

(YVES arrives.)

JIMMY: And here's the woman with the proof. Go ahead, show him the proof.

(YVES shakes her head.)

JIMMY: You mean you don't have any proof?

(JIMMY hands the wig back to DR BROMBERG.)

DR BROMBERG: I have Alopecia. I lost all the hair on my body. Last year I was doing volunteer surgical work in Africa. And yes, I do like suckers.

(JIMMY hands the lollipop back to Dr. BROMBERG.)

JIMMY: I'm going to -

(JIMMY points back at his room then falls over, smashing the cast on his leg.)

(DR BROMBERG examines JIMMY'S broken cast and looks at the ANESTHETIST.)

DR BROMBERG: Greg, I hope you didn't have any dinner plans.


(Scrub room. GREG goes to his locker, checks there's no-one around, picks up a small liquid-filled bottle, and smiles.)

(Fade to black.)


(A large warehouse. The GUNMEN enter.)

BYERS: This is the place, huh? The address Stukas received by overnight mail?

FROHIKE: I guess when you're selling gall bladders it's better than the Airport Hilton.

BYERS: Big wide open space. Probably do their deal right in this area. We need to find the perfect vantage point to catch it all on film.

FROHIKE: Bingo. You sure you read that letter right.

LANGLY: I'm positive. The deal goes down here at six tonight.

BYERS: Which gives us just about two hours before they show up.

LANGLY: Let's get to work.


(Back in the hospital, YVES is waiting in the corridor. She checks her watch and then sees JIMMY being wheeled along by an ORDERLY and MARILYN.)

JIMMY: Sorry, Yves. I feel so stupid.

YVES: Forget it. Jimmy, I have to be somewhere. Are you going to be all right?

JIMMY: Yeah. Sure.

(She pats his arms and the ORDERLY wheels JIMMY away.)

MARILYN: So, you're not staying?

YVES: I have an appointment. I'm late already.

MARILYN: Well, if he were my boyfriend, I wouldn't leave.

YVES: He's not my -

(JIMMY is wheeled into the OR prep room next to MR DIMSDALE.)

DIMSDALE: Boy, did you make an ass of yourself.

JIMMY: I really don't want to talk about it.

DIMSDALE: Seriously, what got into you? Why do you care?

JIMMY: Why wouldn't I care? You're another human being. Oh sure, you're a complete jerk, but anybody can see what's wrong with you. You're scared.

DIMSDALE: You're crazy.

JIMMY: No, I got you pegged. All that griping to the doctors and nurses. You just want somebody to pay attention to you. You're scared of being alone. What's sad is that's what you worry about and you've got a son.

DIMSDALE: Let me tell you about my son. You know what he does for a living? He's a stockbroker, a Wall Street tycoon.

JIMMY: Wow. Congratulations.

DIMSDALE: He's what's wrong with this country. He's a greed monger, sticking it to the little guy. What kind of self-respecting union man would even want to talk to a guy like that?

JIMMY: One who doesn't want to die alone.

(YVES is waiting for the lift when she catches an update on the 'America's Most Wanted' story.)

NEWS READER: (on television.) After the story was featured of the television program 'America's Most Wanted' Police received several tips, one of them has led authorities to re-examine this bizarre murder case. A mortuary worker, who saw the show, recognized Dr. Millikan as a John Doe who was interred last Spring. Police now believe the missing surgeon was not the Doctor of Death. He was poisoned by the real killer using a common anaesthetic, Lydocaine. Police are now widening their search for this killer.


(Back at the warehouse. STUKAS enters. The GUNMEN are hiding in an upper level.)

BYERS: Same plan as before, we get the evidence, then we get the police.

(They're watching STUKAS on a small monitor.)

(The warehouse door opens and a car is driven in.)

FROHIKE: Here they come.

(THREE Asiatic MEN get out of the car. The FOURTH has closed the door and joins them. STUKAS walks towards them.)

BYERS: This isn't going to work. We've got to get their faces.


BYERS: I gotta get the shot!

(BYERS moves away.)


(BYERS edges closer to the group. He has the scene nicely framed in his camera, when a gun appears, pointing at his head. A MAN shouts in Chinese. BYERS is taken at gunpoint over to the group.)

STUKAS: Who the hell are you?

BYERS: I'm an investigative reporter. I'm here to put you out of business. I suppose there's no point in telling you that what you do is obscene... immoral. Just know you won't be doing it much longer.

STUKAS: You're right. I'm running out of Grizzlies. Who else is here? Are you alone?

BYERS: No. The Police are outside. This whole building is wired for sound and we're being recorded.

(STUKAS doesn't believe this.)

STUKAS: He's alone.

(STUKAS pulls out his knife and holds it to BYERS' face.)

STUKAS: Say hello to the bears for me.

(FROHIKE and LANGLY'S monitors start reacting, lots of red flashing lights and bleeps.)

FROHIKE: Langly! Someone else is here.

(The warehouse doors open and police cars, with sirens, drive in. COPS abseil down from the ceiling. The place is swarming with armed police. LANGLY and FROHIKE exchanged looks, BYERS smiles.)


(In the Operating Theatre. JIMMY is on the table looking happily woozy.)

DR BELLUCCI: Hi. I'm Greg Bellucci. How are you doing? Anaesthetic kicking in? Feeling better than earlier I hope. You know, that was quite a story you told. But how are you now? Nice and dreamy? All's right with the world? Sucker.

(GREG has filled a syringe from the bottle he took earlier from his locker, and is injecting it into Jimmy's IV line. JIMMY begins to lose consciousness.)

(Fade to black and continuous "flatline" sound.)

(JIMMY regains consciousness. YVES is looking down at him.)

JIMMY: Skiing. I'm skiing along. I skied into a tree. (to YVES) It was you. You were there.

(JIMMY is back in his room. The GUNMEN are there as well as YVES.)

JIMMY: Hey guys, I remember now. The third skier was Yves. She was the one that met up with the poacher.

BYERS: We know already, Jimmy. Thanks.

FROHIKE: She tipped off the RCMP. Turns out she had her own little sting going.

LANGLY: One that she could have told us about from the start. I nearly died of frostbite out there. What is it with you? Why don't you share?

BYERS: Let's not forget she saved Jimmy's life.

JIMMY: You did?

YVES: You were right about the Denver Doctor of Death. You were just mistaken about which doctor it was.

FROHIKE: This Bellucci guy came here from Denver two months ago. That's been his MO all along.

LANGLY: Frame another doctor for the murders he commits, then kill that doctor, make him disappear once the heat is on.

JIMMY: Where is he now?

BYERS: In custody. Facing murder charges in two states.

JIMMY: You saved my life. You like me. You really, really like me.

DIMSDALE: Go figure.

(YVES draws back the bed curtain. DIMSDALE is dressed and finishes packing his bag. His SON is there.)

MR DIMSDALE'S SON: Pop, you ready?

DIMSDALE: (to Jimmy) Take care of yourself, you big dope.

(He smiles at JIMMY and JIMMY smiles back.)

(Fade to black.)


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