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 … 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.