You're flooding it, Booger.
Hmm.
For God's sake, Izzy.
Here she comes. Let's go.
Come on, man. Come on.
You got to be kidding.
- What? - Don't "what" me, Izzy,
or you ain't going to no comic book convention.
I'm 18. I can go anywhere I want.
Yeah, but where you gonna live when you get back?
Mom, we got to get going.
You drive careful, Booger.
He's the only son I've got.
Okay, Mrs. B.
I'm about to introduce you
to a woman who, three years ago,
was delivered the surprise of her life.
After nine months of what seemed like a normal pregnancy,
doctors delivered to Dolores a very special child.
Already a mother of two beautiful children,
Dolores held in her arms a boy with fur like a dog
and a hairline like Eddie Munster.
She's here with us today
with her real live, but sleeping, wolf baby.
Hey, why not just give him a razor and some shaving cream?
I mean, he's gonna be shaving in a couple of years anyway.
Well, actually, he seems to be quite allergic
to shaving cream.
Children seem to like him.
They like to come up and touch his hair,
tug on it a little.
So they don't tease him?
No. He's quite popular.
Dandruff a problem?
Mm, no. I wash his hair twice a day
and brush a hundred strokes a night.
I can't believe this.
I think the question
the audience really wants answered is, uh...
what does the father look like?
The father is completely bald.
Hello?
Who's there?!
"Dear Special Agent Mulder:
I'm writing to you for help.
"Several years ago,
"I had an experience I could not explain.
"I was lying in my bed
"when I felt a presence in the room.
"Though I was awake, I felt that something
"had taken control over my body.
"I don't remember much else,
but I woke up three days later pregnant with my son Izzy."
"That was 18 years ago, but now it happened again.
"I was in bed and could swear I heard Cher singing...
"the one who was married to Sonny.
"Then the room got all smoky,
"and I saw some kind of monster.
"He had a really gross face with lumps all over his head.
"I was too scared to scream.
"Then I got all groggy and conked out for three days.
"Guess what happened when I woke up?
"I got your name off the TV.
"Some lady on The Jerry Springer Show
"who had a werewolf baby said you came to her house.
"Well, I got her story beat by a mile,
"so maybe you'll want
to come see me, too. Sincerely, Shaineh Berkowitz."
Scully, do you think it's too soon
to get my own 1-900 number?
So, did you actually see that werewolf baby,
or was that just a story?
No. It had something called hypertrichosis lanuginosa.
It's a rare hereditary condition, uh,
most commonly found in some South American families.
Uh-huh.
But it was all hairy and stuff?
Uh, Mrs. Berkowitz,
you said that you also had a son?
Mm-hmm. Izzy. That's him there.
And Izzy is the product
of your union with some kind of intruder?
I don't know about no union,
but I sure woke up in a condition.
Did you report this to the police?
Of course I did.
Was there an investigation?
Not really.
Nobody here ever locks their doors,
and it took me a month or two to figure it out.
I mean, that I was pregnant.
And now you're pregnant again?
Uh-huh. But as I told Agent Mulder on the phone,
that's what takes the cake.
Mrs. Berkowitz had a tubal ligation two years ago.
You can't plant a seed in a barren field.
They were cooking something on the range.
Took me two days of scrubbing to clean the skillet.
I don't know how many of them there were.
I only saw the one,
but they ate almost a whole damn jar of peanut butter.
You said were gone
for three days, but nobody missed you?
I know what you're thinking.
Do you drink, Mrs. Berkowitz?
No, but I'm not so sure
my intruders, as you call them, didn't have a few.
Somebody set a tumbler here and didn't use no coaster.
Right.
That's a family heirloom, too.
Is there no chance
that your son could have put it there?
Izzy's got more brains than that.
Not much more, but he values his life.
That pigsty there is his room.
You know what this thing is,
don't you, Agent Mulder?
Why do you say that?
'Cause... you're all quiet and stuff.
And you know something you're not saying...
about alien abductions.
They said on Jerry Springer
you're, like, an expert.
Well, I don't think this has
anything to do with alien abductions.
I don't even know if I believe in that stuff anymore.
Oh, come on.
Really?
Mrs. Berkowitz.
You gave a description of the intruder.
You said that he had a gross face
and lumps on his head?
Mm-hmm, and two mouths.
I don't know if I mentioned that.
Funny.
Sounds just like this.
Oh, that?
That's The Great Mutato.
That's a comic book character my kid Izzy created.
What's going on?
These are Agents Mulder and Scully from the FBI.
The Federal Bureau of Investigations?
We were wondering
how this suspect in your mother's case
looks exactly like this.
The Great Mutato.
Because I... I've seen him, too.
You've seen The Great Mutato?
Yeah.
A lot of people around here have.
Has it crossed neither of your minds that what you say
you saw that night fits perfectly with
this creature that your son created?
Well, yeah, but...
that don't mean it didn't happen.
Don't ask me why, but it works.
Peanut butter sandwiches?
You think bologna would be more effective?
Why are you humoring them, Mulder?
I'm not humoring them, Scully.
This is a very serious crime.
So is perjury.
So is calling out FBI agents under false pretenses.
For the purpose of what?
Isn't it obvious?
I think what we're seeing here is an example
of a culture for whom daytime talk shows
and tabloid headlines have become a reality
against which they measure their lives...
a culture so... so obsessed by the media
and a chance for self-dramatization
that they'll do anything in order to gain a spotlight.
I am alarmed that you would reduce these people
to a cultural stereotype.
Not everybody's dream is to get on Jerry Springer.
Psychologists often speak
of the denial of an unthinkable evil
or a misplacement of shared fears.
Anxieties taking the form
of a hideous monster for whom the most
horrific human attributes can be ascribed.
What-what we can't possibly imagine ourselves capable of,
we can blame on the ogre, on the hunchback,
on the lowly half-breed.
But common sense alone will tell you
that these legends, these unverified rumors,
are ridiculous.
But nonetheless unverifiable, and therefore true,
in the sense that they're believed to be true.
Is there anything that you don't believe in, Mulder?
Shh.
What's that sound?
It's The Great Mutato.
Where'd it go?
I don't know.
I lost it.
There.
Up there!
Turn that damn thing off!
You're on my property!
We're with the FBI.
They're not.
We were...
We were chasing what they told us was a monster.
Monster? What'd I tell you boys?
There ain't no monster.
I'll show you the monster
you're looking for.
Who sent you here?
Your father.
My father is a simpleton farmer.
He understands nothing of my scientific achievements.
What achievements are those?
What makes you think you'd understand them any better?
Well, I'm a scientist, for one.
Well, then you probably know
that once in a generation, perhaps once in a lifetime,
a truth is uncovered which thrusts mankind
into a shocking new consciousness,
turning accepted notions of our very existence on their head.
Consider relativity, the double helix,
and now the homeotic Hox gene, for which I will undoubtedly
have my place among the Columbuses of science
as a visionary leader of men. Yes?
What do you want me to do with these, Dr. Pollidori?
Never mind.
What is the homeotic Hox gene?
She's a scientist. Ask her.
I, uh...
I believe that it has something to do
with, um... growth and development.
If you two will excuse me, I really don't have time for this.
I have to travel tonight to the University of Ingolstadt
to deliver an international address.
Sir, unless you want your scientific achievements
to end up as a footnote on The Jerry Springer Show,
I suggest that you make the time.
Jerry Springer Show?
Witness the morphogenesis of Drosophila...
the fruit fly.
What you are watching has been going on for millennia,
since the Cambrian Period some 580 million short years ago
when Drosophila was first born.
Notice the elegant symmetry with which the pupae grows
into a series of beautiful segments.
What we have found...
what I have found...
is that these segments represent a linear model
for the genetic development of our friend, the fly.
Each gene is responsible for the development
of its corresponding segment: the legs, the mouth, the body,
posterior and anterior.
But which I, through my genius,
can alter into a creation of my own.
Behold... Proboscopedia.
This fly has legs...
Growing out of his mouth.
Why would you do that?
Because I can.
Could that be done in humans?
That would go against every scientific convention.
But could it be done?
Theoretically.
Good night, Dr. Frankenstein.
Despite what you might think, Mulder,
designer mutations like these
are virtually impossible on humans.
That's not what I just heard.
Mulder, even if they could, no scientist would even dare
to perform this kind of experiment on a human.
Well, then why do them at all?
To unlock the mysteries of genetics,
to understand how it is
that even though we share the same genes,
we develop arms instead of wings,
we become humans instead of flies or monsters.
But, given the power, who could resist the temptation
to create life in his own image?
We already have that ability, Mulder.
It's called "procreation."
And first thing tomorrow morning, I'm gonna verify
the pregnancy of Shaineh Berkowitz.
When are you coming home again?
Huh?
When are you coming home again?
What?
We were gonna have that talk.
Soon, soon.
We'll have our talk soon.
That's what you always say.
Elizabeth, you know how I feel about children.
They're mewling little monsters.
But I want children.
What happened to our dream?
About getting out of this place,
getting away from this hick town?
I think that's your dream.
Listen, what do you want, a baby or a Nobel Prize?
See you on Thursday.
Hot plates! Hot, hot, hot!
Biscuits, fritters, grits,
flapjacks, eggs,
boiled, scrambled,
poached and fried.
We got some monster grapefruits on the way.
Bigger than your head, almost.
I-I'd just like some coffee. Thanks.
On the house. Compliments of J.J.
That's with two Js.
Is it true Jerry Springer's coming to town?
We've been had.
I'll save you the trouble of reading the article.
It has everything that we talked about last night,
word for word.
Izzy Berkowitz,
get your butt front and center!
- What did I do? - All I can say is
I hope the answer to that question is nothing.
We have reason to believe that you or one of your friends
recorded our conversation last night
and gave it to a newspaper reporter.
- Me? - In order to promote
your comic book monster that you created.
Do you own a tape recorder, Izzy?
Um...
Christmas, 1993!
...of shared fears.
Anxieties taking the form of a hideous monster,
given the most horrific human attributes...
That's for starters.
What we can't possibly imagine...
Hey. Hey, that's it!
That's the song that was playing
when I got knocked up.
Who the hell is that?
That's the same voice we heard out in the woods last night.
That's him.
The Great Mutato.
Where are we going now?
Messenger this to the Bureau.
I want special audio to filter the tracks
and separate out the voice,
and then I want to go back to see the professor.
Mulder, this is just a dopey hoax.
Something recorded its voice on this, Scully.
And you think that Dr. Pollidori
has something to do with it?
When Victor Frankenstein asks himself,
"Whence did the principle of life proceed?"
and then, as a gratifying summit to his toils,
creates a hideous phantasm of a man,
he prefigures the postmodern Prometheus,
the genetic engineer whose power to reanimate matter...
genes into life... us...
is only as limited as his imagination is.
Mulder, I'm alarmed that you would reduce this man
to a literary stereotype... a mad scientist.
Who else would go to such trouble
to impregnate Shaineh Berkowitz?
I have to admit, Mulder,
everything looks in order.
Mrs. Berkowitz had a tubal ligation in 1993,
and two months ago, she had two pregnancy tests,
both with positive results.
What are you doing?
Mrs. Berkowitz said in her letter
that when she saw her intruder, there was a gaseous white cloud,
and then when she woke up three days later,
nobody knew that she'd been gone.
Yeah. So?
Come on.
Get up!
Move!
Mulder?
I told you, there ain't no monster.
What are you doing in my house?
He had this awful face with these hideous tumors and...
and not one mouth, but two.
Oh, my God.
Dr. Pollidori...
is there something you'd like to tell us?
Are you accusing me
of knowing something that I'm not telling you?
I'm accusing that your wife may have been impregnated.
Impregnated?
By whom?
Oh, I think you know...
Sir, with all due respect,
I think that this is all part of a hoax.
A hoax?
A shameless publicity stunt.
Scully.
What? What is that?
The other victims... they had their frying pans... violated.
Do you know what that is?
No, I don't.
I think we found our smoking gun.
Hey, Mom!
You look great. You look great.
Mom, I have some great news.
Me, too.
You first.
I quit.
I'm clean as a whistle.
Brought you your favorite.
You finish your movie,
but don't you stay up too late, okay, son?
Well, that's a start.
Well, what about your news?
Oh, it's no big deal.
I met a girl.
We're going out.
Oh! Come on. Tell us.
Well, her name is Diana...
Yeah?
And she's beautiful.
She's got long blond hair.
She rides horses,
and she's beautiful and she's smart
and she loves me.
Oh.
What's not to love, baby?
Tell me it isn't true.
You didn't.
You wouldn't.
Why?!
Because I can.
Excuse me.
Not a problem.
Ah!
He has some nerve.
What's this?
Compliments of J.J.
Coffee?
Sure.
Whoa!
That's not a place you want to burn a guy.
You want to see your monster?!
Yeah!
You really want to see your monster?
- Yeah! - Here's your monster.
His name is Izzy Berkowitz!
String him up!
Get your filthy hands off him!
You let him go!
I intercepted a package.
How would you like your face to intercept my fist,
coconut head?
Your kid's a monster!
Yeah!
Yeah! Yeah!
That is my son you're talking about!
How would you like it
if somebody talked about you like that?!
Mulder...
You may have been right, Scully.
What, that these people can be reduced to cultural stereotypes?
They unmasked the monster.
Oh, no, don't even start that...
I may have found something that says otherwise.
The residue in the frying pan was an agricultural product
used to anesthetize herds of animals.
Used by who?
Farmers... who have to register with the FDA
even to have it in their possession.
Is there someone registered locally?
Mm-hmm.
Mulder?
We may be too late.
I think we are.
Who's that?
Show yourself!
If you're armed,
drop your weapon and walk out slowly!
Please don't...
don't kill me.
Who are you?
I'm with the newspaper.
What's your business here?
The old man was murdered.
By whom?
It's alive.
I've seen it.
In the barn, burying the old man.
He's a killer!
Whatever you have in mind,
I'm gonna have to ask you to stop right there.
We have come for the murderer.
Yeah!
What makes you think he's here?
I've seen him with my own eyes.
He is not a man. He is a monster!
Yeah!
The fiend must be found,
and then we'll let justice take its course.
Yeah!
We'll search every crevice,
every ravine!
You get him alive if you can, but you get him!
Yeah!
There's only one way Pollidori could have seen that monster:
if he was out here himself.
Mulder.
Federal agents, and we're armed!
Come on out!
Hey, Scully, look at this.
Oh, my God.
You're gonna have to come out of there.
We're not gonna hurt you.
You think he understands?
I hope not.
He looks frightened.
We're gonna have to get him out of here, Scully.
They're gonna kill him.
The barn's on fire!
Fire!
There it is!
Let him go.
Where is he?
You let him go, or we'll burn him out.
Where is he?
Show the world your horrid, lumpy face!
Yeah!
That's him.
Ugh.
That repulsive physiognomy
is the vilest perversion of science.
Created by whom?
A pale student of my most hallowed arts
whose life was taken by that which he gave life,
by his own horrible creation,
by that monstrosity that you see before you.
Who's he talking about?
My father.
No.
He can talk.
Your ears deceive you.
It's a trick!
I'm sorry.
My voice is damaged by the gaseous chemicals.
But I would like to explain myself.
Despite my appearance,
which you see is quite horrible to the human senses,
I... have never acted to harm another soul.
These are fiendish lies.
Quiet.
25 years ago, my father, having only one son,
a spiteful, hateful man of science,
incapable of the deeper sentiments...
he came to realize that this son
had been conducting secret experiments,
of which I was the most unfortunate product.
A simple man, he rescued me and loved me
in spite of my deformities.
But, as time passed, I grew restless
for friends of my own.
Because I couldn't go to school or play sports
or... or even show my face outside this farm,
my father set out to learn his son's science
so that, before he died, he might create for me a mate.
Uh-oh.
Alas, my father was a simple man,
his heart close to the soil he worked,
the animals he tended.
The experiments he attempted too advanced,
the science too complex for his understanding.
The results of his experiments,
unsatisfactory.
I still...
You mean, Izzy...
But who's the father?
Suffice to say
his experiments failed, and...
my father is dead.
I am alone... and miserable,
but one as deformed and horrible as myself
would not deny herself to me.
If this being you can create,
then I will take blame as a murderer.
I don't know how to recreate you.
You were a mistake.
What we did was wrong,
but in our trespasses, we gave you
a loving son.
And in your homes,
I went places I'd never dreamed of.
With your books and your records
and your home media centers, I learned of the world,
and of a mother's love that I'll never know.
Cher loved that boy so much.
Hey.
He's no monster.
Arrest me then, as you will.
We should go, Mulder.
The prisoner's in the car.
This is all wrong, Scully.
This is not how the story is supposed to end.
What do you mean?
Dr. Frankenstein pays for his evil ambitions, yes,
but the monster's supposed to escape
to go search for his bride.
There's not gonna be any bride, Mulder.
Not in this story.
Well, where's the writer?
I want to speak to the writer.
Tell me something.
Is it... is it hard to love these babies?
What's not to love?
I made this!