written by Jessica Scott and Mike Wollaeger
SCULLY: 12 pounds, 9 ounces [mud].
MULDER: All that came out of his stomach?
SCULLY: Most of it. The small amount in his lungs is what killed him.
MULDER: Is it possible that he took the term "mud pie" literally?
MULDER: Well, then how did the victim swallow 12 pounds of this stuff?
SCULLY: Well, when you fight for air a vacuum is created. And maybe once he sucked down a mouthful of mud it turned his esophagus into a siphon. With his head pushed down, it filled all of his passages like a gas can.
SCULLY: Well Ö you asked me for answers. Those are the best ones I've got.
SCULLY: Mulder, you still haven't answered my question. What happened to Karin's father? Why would anybody steal his body?
MULDER: I don't think this was an act of grave robbing, Scully.
SCULLY: No. That's what we were doing.
MULDER: More like an act of nature.
SCULLY: What do you mean?
MULDER: The orchard man said that the blight that plagues this town was caused by a man - implying a connection.
SCULLY: I'm a little afraid to ask what kind of connection.
MULDER: (voiceover) Rage, unconfronted, takes its own path.
MULDER: (voiceover) Abuse exists, as does the blindness that accompanies it. The pleading cries in the night followed by the disturbing denial of culpability: "If something bad happened, I didn't see it." As witness to a horrific event, I am forced to question the frequently blurred line between right and wrong to weigh the guilt of one man's act against another's to decide if justice was served or if a grievous injustice has prevailed. And if pressed on the subject of what happened that last night in the orchard, I will speak as truthfully as I can: If something bad happened, I didn't see it.