The X-Files (1993–…): Season 7, Episode 13 - First Person Shooter - full transcript

- T-minus ten seconds to engagement.

Yaaah!
Whoo-hoo!

Whoo!
Lo-Fat's goin'off!

- Gotta kill! Gotta kill.
- Stay out of my way, geeks.

Come the next level,
I'm a death machine.

Whoo! Yeah!

Status: combat ready.

Situation: Guerrilla units
in the immediate vicinity...

of insertion module.

Whoo! Yeah!

- Let's do this!
- Bring it on!



- T-minus ten, nine,
- Look at these heart rates.

Eight, seven, six, - If I don't let these
boys out, they're gonna kill each other.

- Five, four,
- Come on! Yeah!

three, two,

one.

- Engage.
- Whoo!

Do you see 'em?

They're out there, geeks,
looking to fry your huevos.

Call it, Retro!
Call it!

Now!

Whoa! It's a total
massacre out there.

Phase two, geeks.

- Ready, knuckleheads?
- Flank right!

- Flank left!
- Go!



Lo-Fat's down.

- You got me, Moxie?
- Got you covered.

- Retro's in.
- Adrenaline redline.

The blood thirst
is unquenchable.

Moxie? Who's there?

Who are you?

I am Maitreya.
This is my game.

Agents Mulder and Scully.
F.B.I. We're expected.

I need to scan your I.D.

Retina scan, please.

Cool.

Ma'am?

I'll need you to look over
those nondisclosure agreements.

"To protect all proprietary
or intellectual property...

"owned by FPS, a private
California corporation,

under the harshest penalty
of the law."

Signature at the bottom,
please.

- FPS.
- First Person Shooter.

- Video games.
- Digital entertainment.

I can get into the Pentagon
easier than this.

Dudes! Agent Mulder,
what's up, wild man?

Welcome to the land
where silicon meets silicone.

Can I get you a latte from the bar,
or perhaps a bottle of designer H20?

Scully?

How 'bout a simple explanation
as to why we're here?

Why don't we take a brief moment to feel
the pulse of the new American gold rush?

You're standing on the launch pad
of a rocket headed for the stars.

Okay.

There's been
a little accident.

What kind of accident?

Like an industrial accident.

- How did the victim die?
- It's not exactly clear.

- Right.
- Was there equipment involved?

- No.
- Yes.

- Yes and no.
- What's your business here?

- Our business?
- Yeah.

We're... We're
consultants to FPS.

Langly did some
programming for them.

- He created all of the bad guys.
- Only the Euro-goons.

We don't want to give you the idea
that we're major profit participants.

Cash or stock options?

Options.
Preferred rate.

Vested immediately with a short-term
exercise against venture collateral...

to bypass S.E.C. regs.

- The I.P.O. 's in a week.
- Game ships on Friday.

Fifty malls across
the United States and Japan.

Only there's a dead body
between you and untold riches.

I don't know about you guys,
but I'd be checking my shorts for cake.

- This man's been shot.
- No!

See, when somebody is shot,
there's a gun involved, right?

That is absolutely impossible because there's
no way anybody could get a gun past security.

What do you call this?

That's a laser blaster
for wasting cyber-trash.

- It emits a low-frequency...
- Just let me! All right.

The weapons feed off
the FPS mainframe.

The effect is intensely real,
but harmless.

You say this weapon is a toy, but
this man clearly has gunshot wounds...

- Through his...
- Stun suit.

It's rigged with paint
for wounds and kill shots.

Total bleeding-edge
technology.

- He's dead. I got it.
- Who was he playing against?

Against the game. You waste
the cyber-thugs before they waste you.

It's all about body count.

But they're
computer-generated images...

running on a projector.

It all happens
in the game space.

It's a total
digital environment.

Nothing's real.
It's all virtual.

Did anybody see
what happened?

I was in the control booth
with Ivan.

Retro was in the zone.
His telemetry was solid.

He looked unstoppable, like
he was on his way to the next level,

when suddenly
he was cooked meat.

Well, the next call's
gonna be to the local P.D.

No cops! No cops.
You said no cops.

You said
you had connections.

Connections or not,
you've got a murder victim here.

Headlines!

Just what the Wall Street money dudes
want to read as we're goin' to market.

Yes, this is Special Agent
Dana Scully with the F.B.I.

You said you were in
the control booth when it happened?

Can you tell me
exactly what you saw?

I'm still
not sure if we even saw it.

I mean, one minute everything
was going perfect, and then we crashed.

Ivan and I were sitting here.
We both just looked at each other.

It happened so fast.

Moxie's covering Retro, who's going inside
after the enemy to rack up beaucoup points.

And then "goosh," Retro's
vitals spike like he's been shot.

And the system defaults.

And they're
right back in the game space.

Lo-Fat, get over here!
What happened?

Retro?
What's wrong?

- Lights out. Game over.
- What's wrong, man? What happened?

What happened in there?

We don't know. There's no
res images on interior game spaces.

What about
the wire frame?

Maybe I can.

I'll strip down
to wire frame display.

Um, I mean...
we've never mapped this area before.

Retro was in noncombat space.

- It's a chick.
- It can't be.

Can you texture-wrap her?

- Holy Toledo!
- She's packin' a flintlock.

That ain't all she's packin'.
Can you print that out for me?

Goddess.

Let me get this straight,
Agent Scully.

You got no murder weapon,
no forensic evidence,

no motive,
no suspect.

Scully.

My partner Agent Mulder.
This is Detective Lacoeur.

- Have you got something?
- Yeah, our killer, I believe.

Hey, I'll put out an A.P.B.
for Frederick's of Hollywood.

Mulder,
you're not serious.

It's all in the computer.

Mulder, that's any voluptuous vixen
out of any number of video games.

She's not in "any video game." She's in
this one, and no one programmed her in.

Yeah, but even if they had,
she's not real.

She's a character. She's-She's
some immature, hormonal fantasy.

Darryl Musashi.
You see who that is?

- Darryl Musashi.
- As I live and breathe.

- Who's Darryl Musashi?
- The O.G.

Original Guru.

Word is he slums as a game designer
when he's not contracted to the C.I.A.

- The boy wonder of virtual mayhem.
- What's he doing here?

Ivan must have called him
to go in and slay the ninja babe.

Mulder, why does this game
have the effect...

of reducing grown men
back to moony adolescence?

That's Darryl Musashi!

Mulder.

- Huh.
- Do you want me to autopsy the body?

Emerging module
into set mode. T-minus 20 seconds.

Pay attention, worms.

Darryl Musashi's gonna show us
how this game's supposed to be played.

I heard he scored 90 consecutive wins
on Demon Space Drifter.

- Ninety-one.
- Look at him. The man's a sphinx.

- T-minus ten,

nine, eight,

seven, six,

five, four,

three, two, one.

Engage.

Hey, Byers, you gotta see this.
Mulder, get over here.

- Is that him? Is that Darryl Musashi?
- Yeah, that's him.

He just stepped
into the game.

- Why is he just standing there?
- Because he knows no fear.

- Yeah!
- Unbelievable.

- Standing heart rate is 68.
- He hasn't even broken a sweat.

Look at him. He's not even waiting for
the reset. He's going right for the kill.

What just happened?

She cut off his hands.

Preliminary external
examination of deceased,

a 20-ish male,
name listed only as "Retro,"

offers no additional clues
as to actual cause of death.

Scratch that.

Cause of death is from
a large entry wound at the sternum...

resulting in trauma
to the internal organs...

and blood loss.

Wound is consistent
with a high-velocity impact...

from a large projectile...

which passed through
a three-ply Kevlar jacket.

Scratch that.

Wound is the result
of high-velocity impact...

from an unknown object...

which, even if it did
enter the body,

left no damn
trace evidence whatsoever.

No powder burns,
no chemical signatures...

of any kind
of explosive propellant.

- No luck?
- I thought I was on to something.

You know, Mulder, this suit holds
more than just exploding paint cells.

It measures the player's vital signs, from
the heart rate to the extant body chemistry,

and then sends that information
back to the computer.

Then when a player is shot,
a battery pack sends a 12-volt jolt...

that keeps him from getting up
until the game is over.

Virtual death.

Yeah. Well, if only
that were the case.

- Yeah.
- I thought at first that maybe the suit had malfunctioned,

that one of the charges
had blown inward.

But unfortunately,
that wasn't the case either.

I've got a birthday
coming up.

You have to admit, though, Scully, this
is a pretty amazing piece of technology.

- Yeah. Wasted on a stupid game.
- Stupid?

Dressing up like
high-tech warriors...

to play a futuristic version
of cowboys and Indians.

What kind of moron
gets his ya-yas out like that?

Mulder, what purpose
does this game serve...

except to add to a culture of violence in
a country that's already out of control?

- Who says it adds to it?
- You think that taking up weapons...

and creating gratuitous
virtual mayhem...

has any redeeming value
whatsoever?

That the testosterone frenzy that
it creates stops when the game does?

That's rather sexist,
isn't it?

I mean, maybe the game provides
an outlet for certain impulses,

that it fills a void
in our genetic makeup...

that the more civilizing effects
of society fail to provide for us.

That must be why men feel the great
need to blast the crap out of stuff.

Well, testosterone frenzy
or no,

the only suspect we have
in this man's murder is a woman.

Yeah, I've seen it.

A computer-animated woman,
Mulder,

with a computer-animated
weapon.

A flintlock pistol, which would
leave a very large entry wound.

Pictures don't kill people.
Guns kill people.

As do swords.

The world-renowned
Darryl Musashi.

Mulder.

You're kidding.

- Thanks.

L.A. Sheriff s Department just picked
up a female suspect for the murders.

Who's the man?
He's the man.

He's the man
with the badge!

You get the feeling these men
have something better to do?

I mean, is that legal?

Uh, we picked her up
outside of a strip club in Reseda.

Fits your description
to a "T."

- Was she read her rights?
- About 500 times.

- Oh, yeah.

For the record, can you
state your name, please?

For the record again, my name is
Jade Blue Afterglow. I reside...

- I'm sorry. Your real name?
- That is my real name.

What were you expecting?
Mildred?

No.

I sure seem to be upsetting
a lot of people around here.

Well, you're not
upsetting me, Miss, uh...

Afterglow.

I sure upset the man
running the metal detector.

You say that you have
no knowledge of Ivan Martinez...

or a company known
as First Person Shooter, or FPS.

I meet a lot of men.

Would it surprise you to know that you
have been placed at a crime scene...

in the offices of FPS?

Let's just say it takes
a whole lot to surprise me.

You might want to start
telling the truth.

And what truth
am I not telling you?

That you murdered
two men,

one with a 14th-century
broadsword,

and the other
with a flintlock pistol.

Oh. You must have had me
confused with my sister.

Xena, warrior princess.

Are you denying
that this is you?

- Now I get it.
- What?

The medical imaging place
in Culver City.

I got paid to let them
do this body-scan thing.

They paid you
to scan your body?

You think that's the strangest thing
I've been paid to do?

We're very sorry,
Miss Afterglow, but...

Uh, we're sorry.
You're free to go.

I don't know about you, Scully,
but I am feeling the great need...

to blast the crap
out of something.

- Hello?
- Anybody here?

Phoebe?

Hey, you okay?

Boy, I must have
fell asleep.

I was just thinking
of taking a nap.

I've been up for 70 hours
straight analyzing code,

trying to fix the game.

- Where is everybody? Where's Ivan?
- Um, he's with the money guys.

They're all freaking.

We need to talk to him right away
about a woman named Jade Blue Afterglow.

He scanned her body and he
created the character out of her.

- He put her in the game.
- Hey, what are they doing?

Oh.

The Lone Gunmen
are on the floor.

Langly and I wrote
a software patch.

- We're going to run a res-up test on the game.
- What for?

To bypass the problem.

- Hey.
- What just happened?

Oh, I don't know.

- They're in the game.
- Hey, Phoebe, are you paying attention?

You're supposed to wait
until we said we were ready.

What the hell's going on?

Phoebe, come on.

- What's happening?
- Anyone up there running the program?

I don't believe this.
The program's running itself.

- Phoebe!
- This can't be happening.

Somebody's shooting
at them.

This is supposed to be background only.
There wasn't supposed to be any game play.

They need help.

Mulder!

Nine, eight, seven,

six, five,

four, three,

two, one.

- Engage.
- Bring it on.

- You guys okay?
- We've been better.

- Byers has been hit.
- I'm okay. It's a flesh wound.

It's her.
She's out there.

She nailed Byers
with that flintlock.

Okay, on the count of three,
I'm gonna lay down some cover, fellas.

You ready?

One,

two, three.

Mulder!

Get in the module!

- What is he doing?
- Don't go after her! Get back here!

- He's getting his ya-yas out.
- We're not defaulting the program!

- Mulder!
- It's suicide!

Put the sword down.

Mulder?

- Oh, no.

Where's Mulder?

I said, where's Mulder?

Maybe you guys didn't hear me.
Come on, guys. Where is he?

We don't know.
He just took off after her.

- I saw what he did, but where did he go?
- He went into the building.

- He was firing his weapon.
- I saw where he went!

I want to know where he is.

Is there a door or an exit or some kind
of passageway that he could have used?

Just the one
you came in.

- He should be right here.
- It's impossible. It's a digital environment.

- It's just a game.
- Yeah.

- Easy for you to say.
- Agent Scully!

I found him.

This monitors everyone playing
the game. There... player four.

- It's his telemetry.
- What do you mean?

Player four.
That's him.

- On the monitor.
- Right there.

- Where?
- That's Mulder.

- He's alive.
- Those are his vitals.

- He's still in the game.
- Yes, but where's the game?

Frohike!

Langly!

Byers!

- I think that's it.
- Yeah.

- What are you doing?
- We're rerouting the circuitry.

- Making a kill switch so we can shut down the game.
- Don't touch that.

I mean, it won't work.
There's no way to do that.

We are back in business!
Baby, you are dope.

What?

We were toast.
I felt the flames licking my ass.

Then the bankers saw
the letters on the autopsy..."F.B.I.

Cause of death: unknown."

You fixed our problems. The game's gonna
ship, and we're gonna be countin'Franklins.

Yeah, and you're gonna
be countin' teeth.

- Her partner's lost in the game.
- Lost?

- The game has disappeared.
- What are you talking about?

Jade Blue Afterglow.
Does that ring a bell?

Jade Blue Afterglow?

- Oh, you'd remember her.

Hey! Phoebe!

I don't know
how it happened.

You knew about her?

Then it was you.
You scanned that woman's body.

Into my computer.

She was my creation.
She was mine.

- But why?
- You don't know what it's like...

day in and day out, choking
in a haze of rampant testosterone.

I wouldn't be so sure.

I mean, she was all I had
to keep me sane,

my only way to strike back
as a woman.

She was my goddess,
everything I can never be.

But, Phoebe,
she is still a killer.

I can't explain it, but she is,
and you put her in that game.

No, I didn't.

I was creating my own game
in my own computer.

It was totally secret.
I never told anyone.

But somehow
she jumped programs,

and she's feeding off
the male aggression.

It's making her
stronger and stronger.

I need your help.

You're the only one
who can understand.

- You've got to destroy her, Phoebe.
- I don't know how.

Well, there's
got to be some way.

There's got to be some vulnerability
or a weakness somewhere.

She has no weakness
anymore.

Hey!

Bet you think you're gonna kick
my butt up and down the block.

Okay.

Her name is Maitreya.

- Maitreya?
- She's input herself into the game.

- We have to download her.
- We can't even get on-line.

- The system's been hijacked.
- The program won't respond.

Frohike, what's wrong?

- What is that?
- Mulder's vitals are wiggy.

- What?
- They're all over the map.

This is your fault.

- You put her here.
- Hey!

No fair pickin'
on a girl.

We're back on-line.

- There's no picture.
- No, we're just in res-up.

No, there's something wrong.

- That's not the game.
- Yes, it is. It's level two.

- How did that happen?
- Where's Mulder?

Mulder's in level one.

- No, he's right there.
- Shut the game down.

No, no. No, no.
I can't.

- Well, just turn it off.
- Power down, Langly.

- The computer's not responding.
- Look, we have to get him out of there!

Yeah, and quick.

Whoa!
Stop right there!

That's not really fair,
is it?

Well, that's just cheating.

- Go, girl!
- Scully's on fire!

- The blood thirst in unquenchable!
- Are you witnessing this?

- Oh, yeah.
- Scully's in the zone!

- Clearly.
- What's wrong?

This is level two.
It only gets harder.

No one's ever beaten
level two.

- Are you okay?
- Ask me if I'm humiliated.

Mulder.

- This is nuts!
- They'll never make it.

- How do you kill something that won't die?
- Try and stop me, Ivan.

- My whole life is in this game!
- What are you trying to do?

- Stay out of this!
- She's gonna destroy it.

- It's the only way to save them.
- Let it go, both of you!

- You can save them?
- There's a kill command.

- It kills the whole game.
- You knew about this?

- She knew about it too.
- You said it wouldn't work.

She was trying to save
her creation, her goddess.

You don't care who dies
as long as your game survives.

- Our friends are in there.
- And we're not gonna let them die.

Mulder?

Give me that!
This is out of your hands now.

- Shut down the program.
- You're the only ones that can do it.

- They can't keep this up.
- Scully's running out of ammo.

- What's the command?
- Don't do it, Phoebe.

We're so close.

- The command.
- Give it to him.

Shift-Alt-Blood Bath.

Oh, my God.

We killed the game,
and Mulder and Scully along with it.

Over here!

- Scully!
- Mulder!

Scully!

That's entertainment!

We came, we saw, we conquered.

And if the taste
of victory is sweet,

the taste of virtual victory
is not Sweet 'N Low,

nor the bullets
made of sugar.

Maybe out past where the imagination
ends, our true natures lie,

waiting to be confronted
on their own terms.

Out where the intellect is at war
with the primitive brain...

in the hostile territory
of the digital world...

where laws are silent and rules
disappear in the midst of arms.

Born in anarchy,
with an unquenchable blood thirst,

we shudder to think
what might rise up from the darkness.