SEASON 1

SEASON 2

SEASON 3

SEASON 4

SEASON 5

FIGHT THE FUTURE

SEASON 6

SEASON 7

SEASON 8

SEASON 9

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Scully just chases after him as he leaves the office, just totally pissed off at him. She’s so cute when she’s angry. And as she’s lecturing him he totally walk away, mid-sentence, to hit on the Bottle Blond again. Right in front of her! Doesn’t he know she’s his one in five billion?! The person with whom he should be picking out china patterns? The one who’s turned on by his boyish agility? Doesn’t he see?! As he returns, she verbally bitch-slaps him with, “What is going on with you?” Okay, so a minor bitch-slap. I’m surprised; after Eddie Van Blundht you’d think she’d be a little more aware that maybe he’s not who he seems. Anyway, she claims he’s acting bizarre and he grins devilishly, “Jealous?” and walks away, slapping her ass. Classy. I’m surprised she didn’t have to be held back, although she probably gets her fair share of playful ass-slappage in the bedroom. Maybe she was just surprised he took it public.

Ah, here’s the real Mulder. Or “Morris”, as I’ll call him whenever I remember to. He’s still asleep on the recliner, even though sunlight is pouring through the windows. He’s awakened to a smack on the head and immediately assumes it’s Scully, which definitely says something about the slapping and the bedroom thing. But it’s not. It’s Nora Dunn, and she’s hella pissed that he fell asleep to porn in the living room. She turns the TV off and kicks down the footrest which forces him upright. “And who is Scully?” she demands. “Ah, you know,” he replies, “My significant other, but not in the widely understood definition of the term. She’s the one I want to have little UberScullys with. Y’know, my human credential.” But she ignores him, lecturing him on how he could have at least come to bed, pretend they have a happy marriage. Then she brings up a valid point – what if the kids had seen their dad watching porn? Because I know that’d scar me for life. “Morris” barely remembers he has kids. So, she stalks off and he follows her, asking about his car keys and looking totally overwhelmed. The aforementioned generously beschnozzled daughter comes down the stairs, and Mulder incorrectly guesses that she’s Teri. He’s discovered how wrong he is when she starts bawling and runs back up the steps. “What did you do to Chris?” Nora screeches. Mulder just wants to find his damn keys, and who the hell names their daughter Chris and their son Teri, anyway? Because that’s just mean.

Then Teri comes down the hall, although I’m guessing he doesn’t spell it that way. Mulder’s comforted by the fact that at least he knows his one’s name, then gets thrown off when Terry insists he be called Terrence, because “Terry’s for wusses.” Mulder snarks, “Like Terrence isn’t?” He follows Terrence into the kitchen, kind of surprised by the dystopic view of a family breakfast that is lain out in front of him. Nora is furiously beating some eggs because, as she reminds her “husband”, he forgot the milk. I notice with a kind of fascinated awe that the doors of their fridge perfectly match the kitchen cupboards. That’s some custom built shit right there. Do they have secret Home Depots in Area 51, too? Mulder just really wants his keys, and spots them on the kitchen counter. He practically lunges for them, but Nora grabs them first, insisting that she’s taking the minivan. I bet his patience is running out, if his flared nostrils are any indication. Just then Chris (although I bet it’s spelled Kris) enters the kitchen, and Nora asks her if she’s given her father his car keys yet. As Mulder reaches for them, she does that annoying thing that all teenagers who are pissed at their parents do… she “accidentally” drops them. Smooth. Mulder’s all, “whatever, this ain’t my fight,” and starts to hightail it outta there when Nora tells him that he was supposed to “give Kris an answer about her nose today.” Mulder’s all, “kill me now,” and eyes her schnozz warily. “I think she’s a little young for plastic surgery, don’t you think?” Oh, no. And he’s totally serious, too. Now, from this poor teenage girl’s POV, her father forgot her name, then told her she had a giant nose. Which, let’s face it, is true, but you don’t want to hear that from your father. Although judging from his interactions with Scully, her real dad’s not exactly a winner himself, is he? Anyway, Kris starts to cry again and runs out of the room as Nora snaps, “Oh, for God’s sake, Morris. A nose ring! She said she wants a nose ring!” D’oh! “Oh… well… my work here is done,” says Mulder. Yes, it is.

He finally heads toward the door and Nora follows him, grabbing his arm. She wants a straight answer: does he want a divorce? Mulder’s like, “Look, lady. I’m just trying to get back to my touchstone. Please let me go, okay? You seem like a nice, if shrill, person, and I’m sure when you’re husband gets back, he can give you a straight answer. But for now, please. Let me leave.” No, not really. He apologizes and says he’s not himself and discovers through the course of the conversation that the real Morris is an ass (but we already knew that, didn’t we, audience?) and Nora is really Joanne. She seems to be satisfied with the “not myself” answer, and lets it lie. But then she reminds him that he’s wearing the suit from yesterday. Heh, oops. I’m sure Mulder does that a lot.

So, he’s upstairs admiring the several black suits in the closet and making a clever comment about Johnny Cash, when the single most embarrassing moment of the season rears its ugly head. The mirror dance. Look, I get that Mulder wants to pull the Sam “Swiss Cheese Brain” Beckett, check-out-your-body-in-the-mirror-because-you’re-still-not-used-to-the-fact-that-it’s-not-your-own thing, but does he have to do the badly choreographed dance with the real Michael McKean on the other side and not keeping very good time? It’s so plainly and painfully obvious that they’re not in sync like, at all. Speaking of N*Sync, I need to say Bye, Bye, Bye to this entire sequence.

Okay, that was bad.

But not as bad as the dancing.

Mid-boogie, Joanne walks in on “Morris” with a phone and he makes like his finishing his Tai Chi. Don’t worry, Mulder. I’m sure nothing would surprise her, at this point. She hands him the phone and leaves the room. He starts to answer “Mulder”, but catches himself. “Jeff” is on the other line (who was, until now, known as “No Name”) telling him to get his ass down to the office “toot sweet”. I’m sure that’s not how you spell it, but I took German, not French, so sue me. Oh, and I had to look that phrase up (years ago, not just now). It means, like, right now. Really quickly. Stuff like that. As an aside, remember in Red Museum when that freaky voyeur caught someone “en flagrante delicto”? Yea, I had to look that one up, too. By the way, it means sex. Anyway, “Morris” is needed at work but Jeff can’t say anything more over the phone. Which, again, begs the question. Aren’t they on a top secret base? Shouldn’t their phone lines be, like, secure? Whatever.

Back to the white Indian pilot. NotSpender and “old man”, also known as “sir”, are talking about the pilot, who is rocking gently back and forth in a Plexiglas prison. He’s from Indiana, no known foreign language skills (<political rant> which, as I see it, is a testament to the failure of our education system, seeing as how nearly everyone in his age in Europe speaks at least two languages. </political rant>), but can suddenly speak Hopi. Since the crash, this pilot thinks he’s Lana Chi, a 75 year old Indian woman from the nearby Moapi Indian reservation. Anyone else thinkin’ sudden split personality disorder? Because you’d be wrong, suckas! NotSpender leads “sir” over to another Plexiglas room, where Mrs. Lana Chi is standing at attention. Not only does she salute, but she explains in perfect English that she is Captain Robert McDonnah and explains that the craft lost power “in the right rear quadrant”, but they couldn’t identify the malfunction. Oddly enough, “Sir” is not really surprised by this information.

We then cut to Tiger Woods. Or, at least, a badly rendered computer generated version of him playing golf. “Mulder”, aka Morris, is playing golf on his computer in the bullpen (wow – we’re not even allowed to have Tetris where I work) as Scully just stares at him. Her phone rings. It’s Mulder. No, I mean the real Mulder. Calling from a payphone. He apologizes for not calling sooner as she stares at who she thinks is Mulder. She’s like, “okay crazy person. I’ll listen for as long as it takes to trace this call, then you’re goin’ bye bye (yes, like N*Sync).” He tells her that the man she’s with is Morris Fletcher, and basically recaps what we saw in the beginning, with the body switching. She writes down the name, tells her “Mulder” to pick up the phone, as our Mulder catches her up on the plot so far. He asks her to come “out here” right away, but doesn’t think the line is secure enough to tell her why. Maybe it’s because Morris picked up the phone all loud and Mulder totally heard him. They hang up and Scully asks “Mulder” if that was his source. He says no, but that they should notify Kersh so he doesn’t chew their asses out again. She questions him, and he responds with, “Look, little lady. I think it’s time you got your panties on straight. We’re federal officers. We go by the book.” Two things. First, I would LOVE to see David Duchovny say that to her. Just morbid fascination, I guess. Second, I adore how she looks at him like he’s about to get his ass kicked. Did he seriously just “little lady” her? What are we in, like, 1956? I also think she’s starting to believe the crazy guy who called her a moment ago.