The X-Files (1993–…): Season 7, Episode 3 - Hungry - full transcript

- Hello?

Hello!

Hey, I'm sittin' here,
dude!

Sorry. We're closed.

Uh-uh. I was here before
you turned off the light.

Grandfather clause, man.

I need a Super Patty Double
with cheese...

The light was a mistake.

We're closed. Sorry.

The light was on!

How bad do you want this job? 'Cause
I'll call the head office right now!



- Super Patty Double...

with cheese, super size fries,
super size Diet Sprite.

Drive through, please.

What the hell is this?

Customer service, man!
Stop spankin' it and get my food!

Hey in there.

Guy?

You are your own man,

and you control everything
you do.

- How ya doin'?
- Hey, Rob.

- Hey, Mr. Rice.
- How's it going, Rob?

- Have a good one, Lucy.
- You too, Rob.

Welcome to Lucky Boy.
May I take your order?

- Yeah, we'll have it our way.
- F.B.I. Special Agents Scully and Mulder.



- We'd like a word with your manager, please.
- How can I help you?

Sir, would you do us a favor
and gather your employees, please?

- What's going on?
- We're investigating a murder.

A car was found in a reservoir ten miles from
here. A body was found in the trunk of that car.

- Well, what does that have to do with us?
- This was also found in the car.

It's a badge that's only given
to employees. Is that correct?

Yeah. "Free Fer Fridays."
It's our promotion...

where you buy one Super Patty
and get one free.

But look, there's four Lucky Boys
in Costa Mesa alone,

and something like
30 in Orange County.

- Thirty-two.
- Yeah, long day, so let's make this quick.

- Does everybody have their button?
- We only wear them on Fridays.

"Free Fer Fridays."

Yeah, but does everybody
have their button?

Hey, uh, you back there.
What's your name?

Derwood Spinks.

Derwood. Do you have
your button, Derwood?

Uh, no, I must have
left it at home,

on account of we're supposed to
only wear 'em on Fridays.

Well, I sure as hell didn't
leave it on no dead guy.

I don't believe that we said
the victim was male.

We're gonna ask everybody
to step outside right now...

- While we take a quick look around the premises.
- Who was the victim?

His name was
Donald Edward Pankow.

Does that ring a bell?

No.

I'm gonna get
some cigarettes.

I guess I'd better call
the corporate headquarters...

and find out what
they want us to do.

Hey, Scully.

Check it out.
You know how they say...

you never wanna see the kitchen
of any of your favorite restaurants?

Somehow, I don't think Lucky Boy
would make that list.

My point being that this is a hell
of a lot cleaner than all the others.

- Don't you think?
- I guess.

So what are you saying, Mulder? This place
has been scrubbed from top to bottom...

to cover up evidence?
- Maybe.

Maybe I'm thinking
this was the crime scene.

You're saying
Mr. Pankow had his brain...

very neatly removed from his skull
right here in this kitchen?

It had to happen somewhere.

But next to
the shake machine, Mulder?

I think that we should be
checking out employee lockers,

and not entertaining the idea that
ad hoc surgery was performed here.

I wouldn't exactly
call it "surgery."

What if this man's brain was eaten?
It's not sociologically unheard of.

There are certain tribes in New Guinea
that consider human brains a delicacy.

- Yeah, but, Mulder, we're in Orange County.
- Yeah? What's your point?

It's just that...

nothing about the way the body was
dumped suggests a fetishistic killing.

The brain
wasn't removed intact.

What if this man's brain
was eaten right out of his skull?

Through an inch and a half opening that
looks like it was cut with a hole saw?

Well, maybe it was cut.
Maybe it was punched.

What looked like tool marks to you looked
to me like something more organic.

Like it was made by a...

a tongue, or a proboscis.

The proboscis of what?

I don't know.

Oh. Hello.
Look at this.

Does that look
like blood to you?

- Yes, it looks like it.
- What is that?

Next to it.
Is that, uh...

Oh, my... Uh. Is that brain...
Is that brain matter there?

No, I'd say
that's ground beef.

- Ground beef?
- Yeah.

Rob Roberts?
It's Agent Mulder.

Hello, again.
I'm sorry to bother you at home.

- No. No bother.
- Can I come in?

- Yeah, s-sure. Sure.
- Great. Great.

Uh, what...
what can I do for you?

- You live here alone?
- Yeah, it's just me.

- Mom or girlfriend?
- What?

Come on, man.
Who cleans up after you?

Neither. It's just me.
I-I live here alone.

Well, bravo. You know, they say single
guys are just bears who own furniture.

I mean, my place,
it's...

But here, you can smell
the Pine Sol.

- Thanks. Can I... Can I get you anything?
- Yeah.

Yeah, a cheeseburger
and a large order of fries.

It's a bad joke. I'm sorry.

Um, Mr. Rice,
your manager,

he told me that, uh,
you stayed late on Friday.

- Is that right?
- Uh, yeah, sure. Friday.

The freezer had died on us.

I stayed after to throw out
the meat that was goin' bad.

- Yeah, did you volunteer to close?
- Yeah.

Yeah, okay.
You volunteered.

Volunteered.

Um...

The, uh... The 35 pounds
of ground chuck...

that Mr. Rice told you to throw away...
what did you do with that?

- I threw it out.
- Where?

In the Dumpster...
behind the restaurant.

Hmm. That's weird.

That's what I figured you did, so I
checked the Dumpster, and it was empty.

Which is weird because
it only gets cleaned out on Thursday,

and you would've thrown away
the meat on Friday.

So you'd expect the meat
to be there, right?

I don't see how that's relevant
to this murder case anyway.

Let me see if there's anything else
I wanted to ask you.

Blood.

You're-You're bleeding.

I-I bit my lip.

Hmm.

I think that just about
wraps it up for me here, actually.

Oh, hey, I, uh... I hope
you catch the guy, huh?

No, I already got
a pretty good idea who it is.

Thanks.

- What do you want?
- N-Nothing.

So take a hike.

Uh, hi.
This is a message for Rob Roberts.

My name is
Dr. Mindy Reinhart,

and I'm a licensed
mental health counselor...

with the Lucky Boy Corporation's
Employee Assistance Program.

I'm talking to all of
the employees at your restaurant...

about the recent unpleasantness
that occurred there.

Rob, I'd love for you to come down to my
office at 11:00 a.m. tomorrow morning.

As it is a requirement of your
employer's insurance provider,

this meeting is mandatory.

I'm in the Irvine Medical Park,
suite 308.

- Have a good evening.

Self-discipline.
That's the name of this game.

That's the one thing
that separates us from the animals,

provided you have it.

So where do you get it?
You can't go down...

to the local convenience store
and buy self-discipline.

You can't order it over the internet.
So where does it come from?

True story. I used to weigh 356 pounds.

Do you believe that?
Well, it's true.

I lived to eat,
ladies and gentlemen.

My entire life revolved around eating,
because I was always hungry.

My appetite
was controlling me.

Four-star restaurants, Denny's...
It didn't matter, and it didn't stop.

It didn't stop until
I took charge of my own life.

It didn't stop until I put on
the brakes and I said, "Whoa!"

Ricardo, you are your own man,

and you control everything
that you do.

Oh, brother.
What?

What... Derwood.

How did you get in here?

It's a little skill
I picked up in Chino.

I did a nickel
for attempted murder.

You didn't know
I was an ex-con?

Yeah,
nobody at work did.

Not until this F.B.I.
murder investigation...

whipped everybody up
into a froth.

Derwood,
what can I do for you?

You know I got fired
last night?

Stupid little
pissant job,

where they make you wear
a paper hat.

And they fired me.
Plus, as far as that, uh,

redheaded F.B. I agent's
concerned,

I'm the prime suspect
in this murder.

But that's no skin off my nose,
seeing as you did it.

Diet pills.

Yours, right?

See, I found 'em when
I opened up on Saturday morning.

I didn't give 'em back because
I figured, hey, free speed, right?

But then there's this
whole flap about a murder,

and I noticed this.

That ain't ketchup, man.

What-What do you want,
Derwood?

I don't know.
What do you got?

TV, VCR.

Nah, it's all crappy,
off-brand stuff.

But, you know, I'll take that,
and whatever money you got in the bank,

and you get this,
and I keep my mouth shut.

And just maybe
you can blow town...

before the long arm of the law
reaches out and grabs you by the gonads.

Maybe not.

Cup 'em.

Uh... Hi.

Uh, Rob?

I hate to bother you, but last night
in the front of the building,

there was a man
in a parked car for hours.

Did you happen to see him?
It was a maroon car.

He was pretty clean-cut,
so I didn't call the police.

But he was still there
when I went to bed.

Gee, Sylvia, I don't know
what to tell you.

Well, he's gone now, but just, you know,
keep your eyes out in case he comes back.

- You got it.
- Thanks.

So I'll call you tonight
and let you know...

where to drop off
my new VCR.

Oh. And don't try
skipping town.

You won't get too far.

Hey, just the man
I wanted to see.

How are you
this morning, Rob?

- Fine.
- Yeah. I'm glad I caught you.

Oh, hey, I was just
driving to your apartment,

and I saw Derwood Spinks
not a block from here.

- He wasn't coming from your place by any chance, was he?
- No, I haven't seen him.

Good. I'd stay away from him. He's
our prime suspect in the Pankow murder.

- You think he did it?
- Me? No. No, I should say...

that's the opinion of the
Costa Mesa Police, and my partner.

So he's not your guy?

No. No, I think we're looking for
somebody who has a compulsion to kill.

Truly can't help himself.

Oh, quick question. The, uh... The meat
that you threw in the Dumpster?

- What about it?
- The Dumpster had a padlock.

- Yeah.
- Who would have the key?

We do,

and the
trucking company does.

Hey, wait.
What's your point?

I'm just tying up
some loose ends.

Good, you got my message,
Rob. I appreciate your coming.

This will be really informal.
Here you go.

I wanna run through
some things with you.

We don't stand on ceremony here, so if
there's anything that you want to talk about,

just go ahead
and blurt it out, okay?

Hasn't been a run-of-the-mill week
so far, has it?

No.

The police have been at the restaurant,
and the F.B.I.

I'm sure this has been
a very stressful time for you.

Pretty much.

So we wanna keep on top
of any potential problems...

that these stresses
might cause for you.

So let's run through some
standard questions together.

Rob, have you been troubled
recently by insomnia?

- Bad dreams? Nightmares?

Have you felt
emotionally numb?

Do you ever see things
that aren't there, or hear voices?

- Tell me, Rob, do you feel...
- This...

This murder...
This murder that happened?

Yes?

What kind of a monster
would do something like that?

I don't believe
in monsters.

But I do believe
in people.

And sometimes,
they do terrible things...

out of weakness
or sickness or fear.

But I do truly believe
that deep down inside,

even the worst of us
wants to be good.

Rob, is there anything that's troubling
you that you'd like to talk about?

I'm sorry.
I thought I put that on voice mail.

Mindy Reinhart.

Yes, Agent Mulder.
What can I do for you?

No, I'm afraid
I can't do that.

I'm sorry, but it would violate
patient confidentiality.

I, uh...

Excuse me, Agent...
Rob?

Yeah? I have to
go to work now.

Would you please call me later
so that we can finish our talk?

You shouldn't be here, Derwood.
We would've mailed you your last check.

Just give me
my money, Rice.

How you doin', killer?

You better have some money
for me too, huh?

There.
Now please leave.

With pleasure, pal.

Oh, I ought to just make
happy hour.

Since this is farewell,
when nobody was looking,

I used to dip my boys
in the coleslaw.

- Ew!
- Ew!

Bon appétit.

If somebody's still in here,
you're in a world of hurt!

Rob?

You lookin' for these?

The deal's off, buddy.

You know that guy
you iced, Pankow?

I just heard he didn't have
a brain in his head.

You're one sick
little freak, man.

You got a lot of problems.

If I were the F.B.I.,

I'd want you real bad.

Public enemy number one
and all that.

Lots of reward money.

So I'm gonna
turn you in myself,

"lucky boy. "

- Rob.
- Hi.

You said we should
finish talking.

Come in.

- I think I need help.
- Tell me why you think that.

I have compulsions
to eat.

I-I get hungry. And I try to
put it off for as long as I can,

but then finally, I just... I get so
hungry that I can't help myself, and...

You binge, then purge?

You eat too much,
and then cause yourself to vomit?

No.
I just eat.

But this makes you feel bad.

I guess it makes me feel
like I'm not a good person.

Rob, there are so many
different kinds of eating disorders.

Men and women from every walk
of life suffer from them.

But if there's one thing that they all
have in common, it's low self-esteem.

And it's a shame because low self-esteem
can be like a fun house mirror.

It reflects back
a warped and ugly image of ourselves.

What do you think Cindy Crawford would
look like in a fun house mirror?

Uh, weird?

- Ugly.
- And how would the most handsome man in the world look?

How would, say, PeterJennings
look in a fun house mirror?

- Ugly.
- And how do you look...

in this mirror?

Do you think that looks
like a bad person?

An unworthy person?
I'll tell you what I see.

I see a nice smile.

I see soulful brown eyes.

I see good.

Now, Rob, I want you
to keep looking into this mirror...

until you see
the same things that I do.

There's a meeting that
I'd like you to attend tonight.

It's every Monday,
Wednesday and Friday.

Now, you can talk to me
anytime you want.

But these people are the best.
They can really help you.

- I have to go.
- You always hurry away.

I appreciate it,

and I want you
to understand...

that I really am trying
to do right.

- Hey, Rob, you didn't tell me you had a friend in the F.B.I.
- What?

He's upstairs. I told him all about
that strange man in the maroon car,

and he said
he'd look into it.

Afternoon, Rob.

Sir, may we speak with you?

Derwood Spinks
has disappeared.

His car is gone,
along with some personal belongings.

My partner saw Spinks in your
neighborhood yesterday morning.

At that time, you told Agent Mulder
that you hadn't seen Mr. Spinks.

Is that correct?

I don't even know him
that well.

If he was going to leave town,
he wouldn't come tell me about it.

Who said he left town?

I don't know. Isn't that
what you think happened?

No, no. Uh, personally,
I think he's dead.

I can't speak for my partner,
but I think that whatever it was...

that killed Donald Pankow
also got to Mr. Derwood Spinks.

What do... What do you mean,
whatever it was?

Well, I'll let you in
on a little secret.

We've been able to keep it
pretty quiet up until now,

but Donald Pankow's brain
was missing from his skull.

My partner was able to find something
that was previously undetected.

It was the tip of what
could only be described...

as a tiny shark's tooth
embedded deep in the bone.

I think we're looking for
some kind of genetic freak...

a carnivorous predator
as yet unidentified.

A monster, if you will.

There's no such thing.

Well, don't you believe it.
This thing definitely qualifies.

It has a biological
imperative to eat.

I think it even ate
that ground chuck you threw away.

Yeah? Why?

Because it can't kill with impunity,
and it knows it.

It knows that the more it feeds on humans,
the closer it gets to getting caught.

But the hunger
is always there,

and it satisfies it
anyway it can.

I'm-I'm sorry,

but this is like
good cop, insane cop.

Why are you telling me
all of this?

I think you know why.

Thank you, Mr. Roberts.

We'll contact you
if we have any further questions.

Watch out for that monster.

Devil's food,
with the white sugar frosting.

And it is, like,
"Deliver me from evil. "

Come on in.

Come on. So,

I baked
three dozen of these...

for my daughter's
school fund-raiser.

And at 3:00 in the morning
the night before there they are,

all three dozen of'em,

lined up
and calling to me.

- Well, you know, in the past,

there would have been a good chance I would've
gone through every single last one of them.

Small world, huh?

Is this your first time
at a meeting?

- Yeah.

Does anybody else have anything
they want to share?

Do you feel up to introducing yourself?
Everybody's really nice.

- Anyone?
- Don't be scared. It helped me.

Uh, hi.

My name is
Robert Roberts.

People...
People call me Rob.

Hi, Rob!

I-I have
an eating disorder.

I'm definitely
a meat eater,

not a vegetarian.

I've always had these cravings...
my whole life.

And just-just recently,

the last month or so,

they've just become
too powerful to resist.

Tell us about it.

I guess it's the taste
I respond to the most.

Salty and... juicy.

Kind of buttery.

The texture of it
inside of your mouth...

You know, your teeth
just sink into it...

like this juicy cloud.

And it tastes so good.

You know, you don't even
wanna swallow it.

You just wanna work it
around your taste buds...

until your eyes roll
right back into your head.

Do you remember when
I first came here?

Anyway, it's a real problem.

Wait.
Your ex-husband did what?

He said I was too fat
to ride in his sports car...

that I'd just
mess up the springs.

So I sat on the hood
and I bounced.

And I didn't stop
until the police showed up.

They sided with me.

Hey, thank you, Sylvia.

Good night, Rob.

Good night, Sylvia.

I'll be right there.

What the hell is going on?

Oh, my God!
Call the police!

Everything okay?

Mr. Derwood Spinks,
alive and well.

You know what, folks? Why don't we
go outside and talk about it there.

I'm confused, Rob.

Was he helping you
redecorate?

- I lied to you before.
- About what?

Derwood was...

was coming from my place
the morning you saw him.

He said if I spoke to you,
he'd kill me.

What didn't he want you
to tell us?

Last Friday night,

he hung out while I was
cleaning out the freezer.

He told me to go home,
said he'd finish up.

You know, I... I didn't know why
the hell he was being so nice to me.

But when I got home,

I realized I had the key
to the Dumpster.

And when I drove back,

I saw him cleaning up
all this blood.

You must have been
very scared.

I was, but you know, I should have
told the truth from the start.

Do you recognize
this guy?

- No.
- Hmm.

He's a private eye.
Sylvia Jassie's ex-husband...

hired him to spy on her.

But now this Steve Kiziak
is gone missing.

He was last seen
parked outside your apartment.

You didn't notice him?

No, I-I didn't...
notice anything.

Well, maybe we should check
with Sylvia again.

I don't...
I don't think she's home.

Ah, well,
we'll track her down.

Don't worry, Rob.
It won't be long now.

Oh, my God.

Rob?
What happened?

It's a long story.

What do...
What do you want?

I, uh... I was in the neighborhood,
and I thought I'd say hi.

- Hi.
- Rob, are you all right?

Did you do this?

No!
Derwood Spinks did this.

You know,
he's the one who...

Like I said,
it's a long story.

Where are you going?

To a friend's house.

I have to leave, actually,
as in now.

Are you sure you're all right?
You're not feeling...

Yes, absolutely.
I'm-I'm fine, you know?

It's just that when you came
to see me yesterday,

I sensed that there were things that
you wanted to talk about, but couldn't.

That was yesterday.

Well, can we talk
about them now?

Look, let me stop you
right there, okay?

You don't have to worry
about me anymore.

As of...
As of 10:38 a.m.,

I am no longer employed by
the Lucky Boy Corporation.

- I quit.
- Rob.

I'm here as a friend.

Well, then,
consider me cured.

I had a breakthrough
last night.

- Did you attend the O.A. meeting?
- Yeah.

- How did it go?
- It was a complete and utter waste of my time.

I'm sorry
you felt that way.

So they're a bunch
of fat people.

So what?
M-M-Maybe they, got, uh,

what you would call
a biological imperative...

to eat too much.

Did you ever think
of that? Did you?

You know, maybe I've got
a biological imperative too.

So why is that
such a bad thing?

Like, the world's gonna end?
That is biology.

You can't fight biology.
You can't.

- Sounds like you're saying you're tired of feeling guilty.
- Bingo.

And I am sick and tired...

of pretending that
I'm something that I'm not.

You killed that man,
didn't you?

What did you just say?

That's why you feel
so guilty, isn't it?

Can you tell me why
you did it?

- Who have you been talking to?
- No one.

I realized it
after our last session.

- You spoke to the F.B.I., didn't you?
- I haven't spoken to anyone.

And I won't without your permission,
but I am here...

- To ask you to turn yourself in.

I want you to get
the help that you need.

You don't know what the hell
you're talking about.

Yes, I do, Rob.

No, you don't!

You said...

you don't believe
in monsters.

Right?

How about...

now?

How about...

now?

Do you believe...
in monsters?

You poor man.

What you must go through.

- Oh, my God.
- Step away, Rob.

- Step away.
- Dr. Reinhart, step away from him.

- Don't hurt him.
- Rob, we tracked Sylvia down on the way to the landfill.

You just can't
stop yourself, can you?

Get on the floor.

Rob, get on the floor!

Rob.

Be that good person
I know you mean to be.

Why?

I can't be something
I'm not.