(Nighttime. Over a small hill, we see a white glow, as if a UFO has crashed. The camera pans over the hill showing a bright light illuminating a baseball game between a white team, the Southwest All Stars, and a black team, the Grays. The field is also lit by the headlights of the 1940's cars parked nearby. The Grays are at bat. The pitcher for the white team has very thick glasses and is not very good. Everyone is having a good time.)
UMPIRE: Play ball!
(The pitcher makes some weird eye and tongue movements which may or may not be a signal, then throws the ball. The UMPIRE, BATTER, and CATCHER all duck as the ball hits and gets stuck in a large cactus behind them. It is not the first ball to hit the cactus.)
UMPIRE: Ball four! Take your base!
(The batter goes to first base as another player digs the ball out of the cactus.)
WHITE COACH: (calling encouragement to the pitcher) That's it, Moose! You're getting close now! Bring it, son!
(PINEY, another white player #3 [who looks suspiciously similar to a certain large nosed FBI agent we all know and love] is less than impressed with the myopic pitcher, MOOSE.)
PINEY: Moose couldn't find the plate if you nailed it to his ass.
WHITE COACH: Shut your pie hole, Piney. Kid's got to learn. Come straight over the top, Moose. Straight over the top. Come on!
(The CATCHER sees the next batter come up. He takes off his mask and calls a warning to the outfielders.)
CATCHER: Ah, damn. Exley's up. Back up! Exley's up! Back up!
(The Gray batter, #12 - EXLEY comes up to the plate. His smile is open and friendly.)
JOSH EXLEY: You sure your boy got the right prescription in those spectacles?
CATCHER: Ah, don't worry, Ex. See, I told him to throw it right at your big, nappy, home-run-hitting head. So you can bet a hundred clams that ball's going anywhere but there.
(JOSH EXLEY grins at him again. The pitcher, MOOSE, throws the ball and JOSH EXLEY hits it hard. It soars up, but falls out of bounds.)
UMPIRE: Foul! Foul ball! Foul! Foul ball!
(PINEY runs into the darkness after the ball. He looks around, but it's too dark to see more than a few feet. Suddenly, the ball rolls toward him stopping at his feet. He finds this most odd. He looks around again, but sees nothing. He then takes the ball and runs back to the field. Game resumes. Next pitch sinks into the cactus.)
WHITE COACH: Moose! Straight over the top.
(The WHITE COACH, PINEY, and the other team members all make pitching motions calling encouragement. Very funny.)
PINEY: Over the top. Yes.
CATCHER: Hey, Ex. I heard the Yankees have been calling you.
JOSH EXLEY: I'm fine playing here in the Cactus league. It's nice and quiet.
(Next pitch bounces off the cactus.)
UMPIRE: Ball! (throwing the ball back to the pitcher) Leave the cactus alone, son!
CATCHER: Gee, I don't know, Ex. The Yanks could use those 60 home runs a year. Well, now that, uh, Jackie Robinson's up there in the Bigs people are saying you're going to be next. The first black Negro man of color in the American League. Shoot, Ex, you'll be famous, man.
JOSH EXLEY: I don't want to be no famous man. Just want to be a man.
(Now all the members of the Grays are also calling encouragement to the white pitcher.)
GRAYS: Over the top! Over the top! Over the top, man!
(After an acknowledging glance to them as if to say sarcastically, "Thanks a lot," MOOSE pitches again. This time, JOSH EXLEY hits it and it flies way out past the outfield. JOSH EXLEY smiles as he watches the ball disappear against the star-studded black sky.)
UMPIRE: Home run! Home run!
(The Grays, some of whom are DURANT - 14, PETERS - 8, cheer.)
JOSH EXLEY: Sixty-one.
(The Grays lift JOSH EXLEY onto their shoulders. There is mass celebration. JOSH EXLEY looks over to the darkness beyond the cars. Something isn't right.)
GRAYS: I told you he could do it. I told you he could do it. Sixty-one.
(A group of horsemen ride up. They are all wearing the sheets and concealing hoods of the Ku Klux Klan and carrying rifles. The celebration stops and both teams step forward to face the riders. Very tense.)
WHITE COACH: What do you boys want? We're just playing a baseball game, here.
KKK RIDER: We got no beef with you, sir. It's that black Babe Ruth hiding behind you. Josh Exley. That's all we come for.
BLACK COACH: Well, you can't have him.
KKK RIDER: We heard the Yankees want to let a Nigger play ball so we just figure we're going to play with him a little bit some first. Now, all you Niggers and Nigger-lovers! You can go home! It's Ex we want.
(Suddenly, a baseball hits the KKK RIDER on the head, knocking him to the ground. MOOSE, the myopic pitcher gets ready to throw another ball.)
WHITE COACH: That's what I'm talking about Moose-- straight over the top. Come on, straight over the top with it.
(WHITE COACH tosses him another ball. MOOSE knocks two more KKK RIDERS to the ground.)
WHITE COACH: Come on, get the guns. Get the guns.
(They pick up the guns of the fallen KKK RIDERS and face the remaining riders.)
BLACK COACH: You boys ain't so tough without your shotguns, are you, fellows?
(A WHITE PLAYER kneels down next to the first KKK RIDER knocked off the horse.)
WHITE PLAYER: You ain't nothing but a coward. Hiding behind your mama's bedsheet. Let's see your face.
(He pulls the hood away and stares in shock.)
WHITE PLAYER: Holy mother of...
(He backs away. The KKK RIDER is a gray alien. All the other players back away also.)
(Basement corridor for the X-Files office. There is baseball game on a small TV which is sitting on a cleaning cart in the hall. Vin Scully is announcing for the LA team.)
VIN SCULLY: It's a gorgeous day for baseball here in the City of Angels and I'm told it is a gorgeous day all over our republic today-- from Bangor to Bellflower, from Amarillo to Anchorage the sun is shining and it's a perfect day to play baseball... That ball is ripped... and it's going, going, gone...
(SCULLY, carrying a heavy load of large files, comes down the stairs, acknowledges the JANITOR at the TV and [for lack of a better word -sorry SCULLY] waddles into the office and drops the large books onto MULDER's desk. MULDER looks up at her over the top of the record book he is reading. She goes over to the back wall, steps up on the boxes there and gazes wistfully out the window.)
SCULLY: Mulder, it is such a gorgeous day outside. Have you ever entertained the idea of trying to find life on this planet?
MULDER: (still looking at the record book) I have seen the life on this planet, Scully and that is exactly why I am looking elsewhere.
(SCULLY opens a paper bag she is carrying and removes a paper-wrapped frozen dessert. This gets MULDER's attention.)
MULDER: Did you bring enough ice cream to share with the rest of the class?
SCULLY: (smugly, beginning to eat) It's not ice cream. It's a nonfat tofutti rice dreamsicle.
MULDER: (returning to his book) Ugh. Bet the air in my mouth tastes better than that. You sure know how to live it up, Scully.
SCULLY: (stepping down and continuing to eat) Oh, you're Mr. Live-it-up. Mulder, you're really Mr. Squeeze-every-last-drop-out-of-this-sweet-life aren't you? On this precious Saturday you've got us grabbing life by the testes stealing reference books from the FBI library in order to go through New Mexico newspaper obituaries for the years 1940 to 1949 and for what joyful purpose?
MULDER: Looking for anomalies, Scully. Do you know how many so-called "flying disc" reports there were in New Mexico in the 1940s?
SCULLY: I don't care. Mulder, this is a needle in a haystack. These poor souls have been dead for 50 years. Let them rest in peace. Let sleeping dogs lie.
MULDER: No, I won't sit idly by as you hurl cliches at me. Preparation is the father of inspiration.
SCULLY: Necessity is the mother of invention.
MULDER: The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom.
SCULLY: (taking another bite) Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we may die.
MULDER: I scream, you scream, we all scream for nonfat tofutti rice dreamsicles.
(MULDER sets the book down and lunges for SCULLY. He grabs her arm and takes a bite of the dreamsicle. The cone breaks and pieces of the dessert splatter down on the book.)
SCULLY: No-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho! (delightful laugh) Mulder!
(She looks closely at the dairy-product-smeared page.)
SCULLY: (accusing) Mulder!? You cheat. I can't believe that you've been reading about baseball this whole time.
MULDER: Reading the box scores, Scully. You'd like it. It's like the Pythagorean Theorem for jocks. It distills all the chaos and action of any game in the history of all baseball games into one tiny, perfect, rectangular sequence of numbers. I can look at this box and I can recreate exactly what happened on some sunny summer day back in 1947. It's like the numbers talk to me, they comfort me. They tell me that even though lots of things can change some things do remain the same. It's...
SCULLY: (interrupting) Boring. Mulder, can I ask you a personal question?
MULDER: Of course not.
SCULLY: Did your mother ever tell you to go outside and play? Mulder?
(MULDER is looking intently at a picture in the book. He wipes away the ice cream. It is a picture of two white men and one black man in a baseball jersey. They are standing in front of an old bus with "Roswell Grays" on the side. One of the white men is the ALIEN BOUNTY HUNTER. Headline is "Local Roswell police officer Arthur Dales chats with Diamond Star Josh Exley.")
MULDER: (to himself) Is that Arthur... Dales...
MULDER: (fake) Ah... Choo!
(As MULDER pretends to sneeze, he rips the page out of the book. SCULLY stares at him in disbelief.)
SCULLY: You just defaced property of the U.S. Government.
(Carrying the torn page, MULDER gets his leather jacket and runs out of the office. SCULLY watches him go. If anything, she has a slight smile.)
SCULLY: You rebel.
(MULDER is walking down the hall of a dilapidated old apartment building which we have seen before in an episode in late fifth season that involved Travelers, flashbacks, crab-things crawling down people's throats, and wedding rings. Sorry, this transcriber has blocked out that episode. He steps over an unconscious drunk and knocks at one of the doors. An OLD MAN answers, opening door a crack.)
OLD MAN: What in hell took you so long?
MULDER: I'm-I'm sorry, sir, I'm-I'm looking for Arthur Dales.
ARTHUR DALES: I'm Arthur Dales.
MULDER: No, you're not.
ARTHUR DALES: Don't be a wiseass, son.
MULDER: No, I-I'm sorry, sir, I know Arthur Dales and you're not Arthur Dales.
ARTHUR DALES: Arthur Dales is my brother. My name also happens to be Arthur Dales. It's the same name, different guy. The other Arthur, he moved to Florida the lucky bastard. Now, our parents weren't exactly big in the imagination department when it came to names. If it would help you wrapping your little head around this stupefying mystery, Agent Mulder we had a sister named Arthur, too and a goldfish.
MULDER: How do you know my name?
ARTHUR DALES: My brother told me all about you. He said you were the biggest jackass in the Bureau since he retired. Yeah, we're big fans. Sometimes we'd stay awake hours at night just talking about you. Just fascinating. Now, unless you're hiding some Chinese food let's call it a day.
(ARTHUR DALES shuts the door in MULDER's face. MULDER waits a moment, then unfolds the paper he took from the office and speaks through the door.)
MULDER: Mr. Dales, I have a, uh... I have a photo here of your brother. Maybe it's you. It's from many years ago and you're, you're standing in Roswell, New Mexico.
ARTHUR DALES: (from inside) Roswell. That's me. I was a cop once in Roswell.
MULDER: Okay, and you're standing with Negro League legend Josh Exley who disappeared without a trace during a season in which he reportedly hit 60 home runs.
ARTHUR DALES: Sixty-one.
MULDER: 61 home runs in 1948.
ARTHUR DALES: Forty-seven.
MULDER: '47, whatever. I don't really care about the baseball, so much, sir. What I care about is this man in the picture with you. I believe to be an alien bounty hunter.
ARTHUR DALES: (opening the door a crack) Of course you don't care about the baseball, Mr. Mulder. You only bothered my brother about the important things like government conspiracies and alien bounty hunters and the truth with a capital "T."
MULDER: Wait a minute. I like baseball.
ARTHUR DALES: You like baseball, huh?
ARTHUR DALES: How many home runs did Mickey Mantle hit?
MULDER: (thinks) A hundred and sixty-three.
(Disappointed, ARTHUR DALES begins to close the door. MULDER pushes it back open.)
MULDER: Righty. 373 lefty. 536 total.
(ARTHUR DALES nods, impressed. And opens the door all the way. Later, MULDER is sitting on the couch in ARTHUR DALES' cluttered apartment. ARTHUR DALES is looking through drawers and boxes.)
ARTHUR DALES: What you fail to understand in your joyless myopia is that baseball is the key to life-- the Rosetta Stone, if you will. If you just understood baseball better all your other questions your, your... the, uh... the aliens, the conspiracies they would all, in their way be answered by the baseball gods.
MULDER: Yes, sir, that may be true. I'm thinking that your experience in Roswell could be germane to a conspiracy between men in our government and these shape-shifting alien beings.
ARTHUR DALES: Oh, don't bore me, son. My brother Arthur started the X-Files with the Federal Bureau of Obfuscation before you were born. He was working for the FBI hunting for aliens when you were watching My Best Friend's Martians. You say "shape-shifting." Agent Mulder, do you believe that love can make a man shape-shift?
MULDER: (soft laugh) I guess... women change men all the time.
ARTHUR DALES: I'm not talking about women. I'm talking about love. Passion. Like the passion you have for proving extra-terrestrial life. Do you believe that that passion can change your very nature? Can make you shape-shift from a man into something other than a man?
MULDER: What exactly has your brother told you about me?
(ARTHUR DALES doesn't answer, keeps searching.)
MULDER: Mr. Dales, if you and your brother have really known about this bounty hunter and plans for colonization for the last 50 years why the hell wouldn't you have told anybody?
ARTHUR DALES: Nobody'd believe me.
MULDER: I would have believed you.
ARTHUR DALES: You weren't... ripe.
MULDER: (standing) Not ripe? LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING: I have been ripe for years. I am way past ripe. I'm so ripe I'm rotten. This cuts to the very heart of the mystery of what I've been doing with my life for the past ten years.
ARTHUR DALES: Oh, the heart of the mystery, the heart of the mystery. Ah, there you are.
(ARTHUR DALES has found and holds up a model of a kneeling baseball player. It is a child's toy bank.)
ARTHUR DALES: Mr. Mulder-- maybe you'd better start paying a little less attention to the heart of the mystery and a little more attention to the mystery of the heart. You got a dime?
MULDER: What is this?
ARTHUR DALES: This little fellow goes by the name of Pete Rosebud. If you keep pumping coffee money into him he'll tell you a story about baseball and aliens and bounty hunters.
MULDER: (putting a dime in the toy) You're making me feel like a child.
ARTHUR DALES: Perfect. That's exactly the right place to start from, then, isn't it? Now, the first thing you got to know about baseball is... it keeps you forever young.
(Camera is close on ARTHUR DALES profile. Scene fades to )
( profile of YOUNG ARTHUR DALES standing in front of a 1940's Roswell police car next to a baseball field. He is looking at a flyer: "Keep Baseball Pure - Keep Baseball White - $500 Reward For Killing Josh Exley." There is a picture of JOSH EXLEY at the bottom. ARTHUR DALES looks up and sees several black Grays team members walking past. He spots JOSH EXLEY.)
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: Mr. Exley? Mr. Exley, my name's Arthur Dales. I'm an employee of the Roswell police department.
JOSH EXLEY: Have I broken a law, sir?
(Another player, BUCK JOHNSON, passes them.)
BUCK JOHNSON: You stole second base in the third inning. I'm a witness. (to YOUNG ARTHUR DALES) Officer, I seen Ex steal... at least 50 bases this year.
(The players begin boarding their bus.)
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: No, sir, you haven't broken any laws. Not that I'm aware of. Um, I've been assigned by my superiors to protect you against certain parties.
BUCK JOHNSON: I'm the one need protection from certain parties. Ex here, he in bed by 8:00 every night.
JOSH EXLEY: I appreciate your concern, sir but I can protect myself.
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: Mr. Exley, I'm not a big sports hero like yourself, sir and I really don't have an opinion on Negroes or Jews or Communists or even Canadians and vegetarians, for that matter but I cannot stomach the murder of a man of any persuasion or any color being flaunted and solicited in my town. (shows him the flyer) Not on my watch. So you can be safe with me in a cell down at the precinct or you can be safe with me here on the bus. Seeing as how this is still America you're free to choose, sir.
(Later, night. YOUNG ARTHUR DALES is riding on the team bus. He is reading something softly [perhaps a play?] in French. He tries reading it with different inflections.)
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: Vous etes sans coeur. Vous etes sans coeur, Mademoiselle. Vous etes sans coeur... Coeur... [TRANSLATION: You have no heart, Mademoiselle.]
(BUCK JOHNSON comes forward and leans over YOUNG ARTHUR DALES' shoulder.)
BUCK JOHNSON: Hey, Officer Dales you're a decent man, ain't you?
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: I try to be.
BUCK JOHNSON: Well, the fellas feel like the umps would treat us better if you got us eight more uniforms like these to play in. (indicates the police uniform)
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: (laughs) Yeah, you could change your name from the Roswell grays to the Roswell Black and Blues.
(The joke seems not to have gone over well. Long nervous pause where all the black team members gather threateningly around YOUNG ARTHUR DALES, then they all start laughing and someone slaps a hat on YOUNG ARTHUR DALES.. Later, YOUNG ARTHUR DALES wakes up. He is now wearing BUCK JOHNSON's outfit [- not the baseball uniform.] He seems surprised by this fact. He gets up and walks to the back of the bus perhaps looking for his uniform. The men are all asleep. He watches JOSH EXLEY sleep. The reflection in the window is that of a gray alien. Startled, YOUNG ARTHUR DALES touches JOSH EXLEY's shoulder. JOSH EXLEY wakes and looks up at YOUNG ARTHUR DALES.)
JOSH EXLEY: What's the matter, Arthur? You look like you ain't never seen a black man before.
(ARTHUR DALES' apartment, present day. MULDER gets a bottle of mustard out of a refrigerator that contains only beer, liquor, and condiments.)
MULDER: I've got to give it to you, Arthur. Calling a Negro league team from Roswell the Grays is pretty clever. E.T. steal home. E.T. steal home.
(MULDER squeezes the mustard onto the two hotdogs ARTHUR DALES is holding, then takes one of them.)
ARTHUR DALES: I didn't make that up.
MULDER: You seriously want me to believe that Josh Exley maybe one of the greatest ballplayers of all times, was an alien?
ARTHUR DALES: They're all aliens, Agent Mulder-- all the great ones.
MULDER: (not believing) Babe Ruth was an alien?
ARTHUR DALES: Yeah.
MULDER: (eating the hotdog) Joe DiMaggio?
ARTHUR DALES: Sure.
MULDER: Willie Mays?
ARTHUR DALES: Well, obviously.
MULDER: Mantle? Koufax? Gibson?
ARTHUR DALES: Bob or Kirk?
(MULDER doesn't know how to answer that one.)
ARTHUR DALES: See, none of the great ones fit in-- not in this world, not in any other world.
(There is a knock at the door.)
ARTHUR DALES: They're all aliens, Mulder until they step between the white chalk lines-- until they step on the outfield grass.
(ARTHUR DALES opens the door for a very cute young boy in overalls, POORBOY, carrying what looks like a liquor bottle in a paper bag.)
ARTHUR DALES: Like clockwork. Poor boy with my medicine. Give the kid a tip, will ya?
MULDER: (reaching into his pocket) So I assume you're speaking metaphorically?
ARTHUR DALES: Speaking metaphorically is for young men like you, Agent MacGyver. I don't have time for that. I only have time to speak the truth.
(MULDER, holding the hotdog in his mouth, hands POORBOY a dollar.)
POORBOY: (not impressed) You're a regular Rockefeller, ain't you?
(POORBOY runs down the hall, jumps over the drunk still lying in the hallway, and toward the camera then .)
( POORBOY runs past the camera on his way into the ballpark. He meets up with a little black boy the same age and they walk through the stands arms on each other's shoulders.)
POORBOY: If Ex hits a couple of dingers, that'll be 60. That ties The Babe.
BOY: Aw, that ball's worth nothing. Ex ain't a major leaguer, so the record don't count.
POORBOY: Does, too.
BOY: Does not.
POORBOY: It does, too.
BOY: It does not.
POORBOY: Does, too.
BOY: Does not.
(YOUNG ARTHUR DALES, having gotten his uniform back, is in the Gray's dugout. A mitt falls from the top of the dugout, then POORBOY leans over the edge, laughing. YOUNG ARTHUR DALES hands the mitt back and pushes him back up into the stands. The Grays all come out of the dugout and put one foot on the bench. The guy on the end takes a wad of chewing tobacco out of a pouch and passes to the next guy. JOSH EXLEY takes a wad then passes it to YOUNG ARTHUR DALES. YOUNG ARTHUR DALES looks at the wad, then puts his foot up just like the others and takes a wad and puts it in his mouth. He holds it for a moment, his face getting more and more disgusted until finally he falls forward retching and spitting the tobacco out. BUCK JOHNSON, standing next to JOSH EXLEY, glances down then smiles.)
BUCK JOHNSON: Perfect day for a ball game.
(JOSH EXLEY chuckles. Later, he is on the field waiting for his turn at bat. YOUNG ARTHUR DALES looks around and sees two white men sitting in the stands. As he watches, the two men nod at each other then simultaneously stand and pull out two black objects. YOUNG ARTHUR DALES runs to JOSH EXLEY and pushes him to the ground shielding his body. He looks back up to the stands and sees the two men spraying the men in front of them with the water guns. YOUNG ARTHUR DALES stands and apologetically brushes off JOSH EXLEY's shirt.)
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: There, uh... there was a bee on you.
JOSH EXLEY: Must have been a real big one.
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: Could have ripped your head off.
JOSH EXLEY: Hey, Arthur... thanks.
(YOUNG ARTHUR DALES goes back to the dugout. BUCK JOHNSON salutes him and he and the rest of the team laugh.)
BUCK JOHNSON: Officer Arthur Dales making the world safe for baseball and Negroes.
(YOUNG ARTHUR DALES takes the laughter good-naturedly.)
UMPIRE: Play ball.
(This game is between the Grays and another black team. The pitcher throws the ball and it hits JOSH EXLEY in the head. He falls to the ground.)
JOSH EXLEY: Ow!
UMPIRE: Time! Time!
(His team members surround him.)
BLACK COACH: Do you know your name, son? Josh, do you know where you are?
(JOSH EXLEY begins muttering rapidly in an incomprehensible language.)
BUCK JOHNSON: Josh, man, wake up.
BLACK COACH: Do you know where you're from?
JOSH EXLEY: (opening his eyes, still disoriented) Macon... Macon, Georgia?
(The others pull him to his feet and he is able to walk off the field. The crowd cheers and applauds. YOUNG ARTHUR DALES looks down at the glove that someone had used to cushion JOSH EXLEY's head. It has a thick green fluid that is slowly burning through the leather. He reaches down to pick it up, and almost gets burned. He picks it up carefully and looks at it.)
(CUT TO: Unknown police department. The phone rings.)
OFFICER: (on phone) Macon police department. Can I help you?
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: (on phone in an police station) Yeah, my name's Arthur Dales. I'm with the Roswell Police Department. I'm doing a background check on a gentlemen I believe is from your area. His name is Josh Exley.
OFFICER: (on phone) You want information on a Josh Exley?
(The OFFICER hands the phone over to a MAN at the next desk. We cannot see his face. As he talks to YOUNG ARTHUR DALES, the OFFICER spit shines his own badge.)
MAN: (on phone, thick Southern accent) Yeah, the name rings a bell. Yeah, I got a Josh Exley. A six-year-old colored boy disappeared oh, maybe five years ago. Now do you got a read on this Josh Exley's whereabouts?
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: (on phone) Six years old?
(A LAB TECHNICIAN, TED, comes over to YOUNG ARTHUR DALES' desk.)
TED THE LAB TECHNICIAN: You wanted to see me about running some chemical tests, Arthur?
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: Yeah. Hold on. (into phone) That would make him 11 now? No, that can't be the one.
(He hands the acid marred mitt to TED the LAB TECHNICIAN who looks at it with disgust.)
TED THE LAB TECHNICIAN: I love my job. (he leaves)
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: (on phone) And is that all you have? Are you certain?
MAN: (on phone) Certain as the sunrise. I'm sorry, son.
(The MAN sits. It is the ALIEN BOUNTY HUNTER.)
ALIEN BOUNTY HUNTER: (on phone) Did you say where you were calling from?
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: (on phone) Roswell... Roswell, New Mexico.
ALIEN BOUNTY HUNTER: (on phone) Roswell.
(CUT TO: Back at the ball field. JOSH EXLEY is sitting in the dugout. A mitt falls from the roof, then POORBOY leans over the edge again.)
JOSH EXLEY: Hey, morning, Poorboy.
POORBOY: Morning, Ex. How's the melon?
JOSH EXLEY: My melon's fine. That boy throws like a lady.
POORBOY: I hear the Yankee scouts are here today. Going to hit numero 60?
JOSH EXLEY: Ain't no scouts here today.
POORBOY: Sure there are. Look. Right over there.
(They look into the stands and see three men in suits watching the game.)
JOSH EXLEY: I'll be damned.
(Later, YOUNG ARTHUR DALES sits in the stands with POORBOY and his friend.)
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: Hey, kids. So how's it going?
POORBOY: (disappointed) Ex is stinking up the diamond.
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: Oh, yeah?
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: Well, anybody can have a bad day.
POORBOY: Yeah, but the Yankee scouts are in attendance today. I don't think they'll relish the idea of him being in the majors after such a piss-poor outing as this.
(JOSH EXLEY lets another ball go by.)
UMPIRE: Strike two!
(The Yankee scouts get up and leave. JOSH EXLEY watches them go, then turns back to the plate.)
UMPIRE: Two balls, two strikes now.
(The pitch is thrown, and JOSH EXLEY slams it. The ball crashes into the scoreboard knocking the numbers off. The crowd cheers.)
(Night on the bus. YOUNG ARTHUR DALES walks over to JOSH EXLEY's seat.)
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: (quietly) Ex... Why did you tank that game today?
JOSH EXLEY: I won that game today.
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: You tanked the game today. You want me to tell you why? Because your name's not Josh Exley. Josh Exley is a six-year-old kid who disappeared from Macon, Georgia about the same time that you showed up in Roswell.
JOSH EXLEY: I ain't never been to Macon.
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: When you got beaned, you said you were from Macon.
JOSH EXLEY: Well, I also spoke tongues like I did when I was a little boy in church. (mumbles unknown language)
JOSH EXLEY: I was joking, Arthur. Relax.
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: I'm relaxed. You're hiding something. That's why you don't dare get into the major leagues 'cause the sports writers and everybody would be digging around and they'd find out what it is, right? So you tanked the game in front of those scouts today. Disappointing those kids-- disappointing your teammates-disappointing your race...
JOSH EXLEY: Look here, don't go talking about my race. You don't know nothing about my race.
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: I know that liars come in all colors. You got a secret, and famous or not I'm going to find out what it is.
JOSH EXLEY: While you're out chasing secrets you make sure you're chasing the right ones.
(Later, the bus is parked outside a motel - The Cozy Cactus. YOUNG ARTHUR DALES is asleep in a room. He wakes when he hears a crash and grunt from the next room. He flips on the light, checks his gun, and peeps into the next room through the keyhole of the connecting door. He sees a figure moving around the room.)
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: (to himself) Ex?
(YOUNG ARTHUR DALES carefully sets his gun on the table. He gets out his pocketknife and opens the connecting door and enters. The figure is practice swinging a baseball bat. YOUNG ARTHUR DALES turns on the light and stares at the figure. It turns. It is a gray alien wearing underwear and a baseball cap. They stare at each other, then YOUNG ARTHUR DALES gives a high-pitched VERY girly scream. The GRAY ALIEN screams back. YOUNG ARTHUR DALES holds up the tiny pocketknife blade. They both scream, then YOUNG ARTHUR DALES faints. The GRAY ALIEN looks down at YOUNG ARTHUR DALES' body, sets down the bat and sighs.)
(Hotel room. The GRAY ALIEN has YOUNG ARTHUR DALES in a chair and is trying to revive him, gently slapping his face. )
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: (waking briefly, then sees the GRAY ALIEN and faints again) Oh...
(The GRAY ALIEN sighs, and holds a glass of water to YOUNG ARTHUR DALES mouth. He wakes again.)
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: (taking a sip) Thank you. (gags on the water when he looks up again)
GRAY ALIEN: (JOSH EXLEY's voice) This is ridiculous. You're supposed to be a big, bad policeman.
(YOUNG ARTHUR DALES gasps in panic.)
GRAY ALIEN: Now, hold up, Arthur. Now, before you go fainting again, listen to me. It's me, Arthur. It's Ex.
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: This is an interesting dream. Wake up. (slapping himself) Come on, Artie.
JOSH EXLEY AS GRAY ALIEN: Man, you ain't dreaming. This is what I really look like. This is the real me.
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: Ex? It's really you under there, Ex?
(In wonder, YOUNG ARTHUR DALES begins touching the alien face, poking around the lip and nose. JOSH EXLEY AS GRAY ALIEN puts up with it for a moment, then reaches over and sticks his finger up YOUNG ARTHUR DALES's nose.)
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: Ow!
JOSH EXLEY AS GRAY ALIEN: I'm not "under" anything, Arthur and I'm trying not to be insulted by your reaction to my true face. Look, would it be easier if I looked like this?
(He morphs into a SEXY BLONDE WOMAN and climbs onto his lap.)
JOSH EXLEY AS SEXY BLONDE WOMAN: (still with JOSH EXLEY's voice) Would this be easier for you to handle?
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: Mmm... No. Somehow, that's even weirder.
(The door opens and another teammate enters.)
TEAMMATE: Bus leaves in five...
(Sees SEXY BLONDE WOMAN in YOUNG ARTHUR DALES' lap.)
(Later, YOUNG ARTHUR DALES is speaking very quietly to JOSH EXLEY on the bus.)
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: So why did you, uh, leave your family in, uh... in Georgia?
JOSH EXLEY: My people guard their privacy zealously.
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: I can understand that.
JOSH EXLEY: They don't like for us to intermingle with your people. Their philosophy is we stick to ourselves; you stick to yourselves-- everybody's happy.
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: So what happened?
JOSH EXLEY: (smiles) Well, you know what happened.
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: You fell in love with an earth woman.
(JOSH EXLEY laughs. Near the front of the bus, some team members are singing a spiritual.)
JOSH EXLEY: No. I saw a baseball game.
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: Oh.
JOSH EXLEY: See, there's something you got to understand about my race. We don't have a word for laughter. We don't laugh. I don't know if you noticed in between all that fainting you was doing but we have very tiny mouths, so no smiling even.
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: Wow.
JOSH EXLEY: I tell you, when I saw that baseball game being played this laughter just... it just rose up out of me. You know, the sound the ball makes when it hits the bat?
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: (smiling) Yeah.
JOSH EXLEY: It was like music to me. You know, the smell of the grass, 11 men-- first unnecessary thing I ever done in my life and I fell in love. I didn't know the unnecessary could feel so good. You know, the game was meaningless but it seemed to mean everything to me. It was useless, but perfect.
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: Yeah, like, uh... like a rose.
JOSH EXLEY: Yeah, yeah, yeah, like a rose. See? You can get it, Arthur. You're a fan.
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: Uh-huh.
JOSH EXLEY: Tell you, from that moment on I just couldn't fix myself to go home.
BUCK JOHNSON: Come on up here, Ex? Let's hear that beautiful voice you got on you.
(JOSH EXLEY goes toward the front of the bus and sings along with his teammates. Slow spiritual.)
TEAM: We'll all be together in that land We'll all be together in that land Where I'm bound oh, lord We'll all be together in that land We'll all be to...
(Exterior shot of the team bus passing by the camera fading into )
( bus on a black and white TV commercial for "Gray Bus Lines. You CAN go home again " Present day - ARTHUR DALES' apartment. Empty pizza box and Chinese takeout containers. MULDER and ARTHUR DALES are sitting on the couch. ARTHUR DALES is drinking a beer.)
MULDER: Let me get this straight: a free-spirited alien fell in love with baseball and ran away from the other non-fun-having aliens and made himself black, because that would prevent him from getting to the majors where his unspeakable secret might be discovered by an intrusive press and public and you're also implying that...
ARTHUR DALES: You certainly have a knack for turning chicken salad into chicken spit.
MULDER: You're also implying that this baseball-playing alien has something to do with the famous Roswell UFO crash of July '47, aren't you?
ARTHUR DALES: You're just dying to connect the dots aren't you, son? Look, I give you some wood and I ask you for a cabinet. You build me a cathedral. I don't want a cathedral. I like where I live. I just want a place to put my TV. Understand my drift?
MULDER: (after a pause) Drift it is, sir.
ARTHUR DALES: Trust the tale, Agent MacGyver not the teller. That which fascinates us is by definition true. Speaking metaphorically, of course.
MULDER: Okay, so was Ex a man who was metaphorically an alien or an alien who was metaphorically a man or a something in between that was literally an alien-human hybrid?
(ARTHUR DALES frowns, then hands MULDER a pint of liquor.)
MULDER: It's official. I am a horse's ass.
(They both take a drink.)
ARTHUR DALES: What is it to be a human, Fox? Is it to have the chemistry of a man? In the universal scheme of things a dog's chemistry is nearly identical to that of a man. But is a dog like a man?
MULDER: Well, I have noticed over the course of time, a man and his dog will often start to look like one another.
ARTHUR DALES: Of course not. To be a man is to have the heart of a man. Integrity, decency, sympathy: these are the things that make a man a man and Ex had them all had them all, more than you or I.
(The TV is on Channel Six. There is a weather warning on the bottom of the screen. Someone is opening the trunk of a car with New York plates. It is the scene from Colony - season 2 - a man opens a trunk, looks at his own dead body lying inside and morphs into the ALIEN BOUNTY HUNTER. He looks in the trunk, then as the picture goes from black and white to color
( the ALIEN BOUNTY HUNTER turns to see the team's bus arrive behind him. The door opens and the team begins to get off. YOUNG ARTHUR DALES and JOSH EXLEY both look over to where the ALIEN BOUNTY HUNTER is watching them.)
(Police station. YOUNG ARTHUR DALES' phone rings.)
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: (on the phone) Dales. (listens to someone frantically talking) Ted?
TED THE LAB TECHNICIAN: (on phone) Arthur, what the heck?
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: (on phone) Calm down. What is it?
(TED the LAB TECHNICIAN is in his lab looking at the mitt. He has lots of brightly colored fluids bubbling away in typical lab fashion, I suppose.)
TED THE LAB TECHNICIAN: (on phone) This goo on the glove you gave me-- is this a joke?
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: (on phone) Why?
TED THE LAB TECHNICIAN: (on phone) It's not like any chemical compound I've ever seen. It's from a life-form which doesn't seem to be carbon-based which, by the way, is impossible. This is way out of my league. I called to the FBI and the communicable disease center in Washington...
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: (on phone) Washington? Oh, no Ted, you didn't? Nobody was supposed to know about this. Can you... can you get the glove back to me?
TED THE LAB TECHNICIAN: (on phone) Sure, soon as I finish up here.
(TED the LAB TECHNICIAN hangs up. JOSH EXLEY enters the lab.)
JOSH EXLEY: I didn't mean to startle you. I'm Josh.
TED THE LAB TECHNICIAN: Oh, I know who you are. (shaking his hand) Only the best damn ball player west of the Bronx.
JOSH EXLEY: Oh, thank you, sir. Arthur sent me down here to explain this substance. That's my mitt it ruined.
TED THE LAB TECHNICIAN: Where is this stuff from? Where did you get it?
JOSH EXLEY: Mars. (TED laughs) Actually, just to the left of Mars.
(He is not kidding. TED looks nervous. JOSH EXLEY violently sweeps the lab equipment to the floor.)
LAB TECHNICIAN: What do you think you're doing?!
(JOSH EXLEY grabs TED the LAB TECHNICIAN by the throat, lifts him off the ground, then throws him through the glass windowed door and down on the broken glass. He is dead. JOSH EXLEY morphs. He is actually the ALIEN BOUNTY HUNTER.)
(JOSH EXLEY is alone on the baseball field running back and forth between a ball and a pair of mitts. YOUNG ARTHUR DALES runs onto the field and stops about twenty feet from him.)
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: Ex? Ex, there's this fella down at the precinct who's willing to swear on his life that you killed a man this afternoon. Now, I'm not sure what's... what's going on here but I... I do know that you're no murderer. You're going to have to get out of town, Ex.
(JOSH EXLEY picks up a mitt and the ball. He points at the other mitt. YOUNG ARTHUR DALES hesitates a moment, then picks it up and they start throwing the ball to each other.)
JOSH EXLEY: Life ain't like baseball, is it?
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: No. No, it's not.
JOSH EXLEY: I had a talk with my relative. A good talk. He made me understand reason, Arthur. Family's more important than any game. So... I got to go home.
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: You still consider them to be your family?
JOSH EXLEY: Of course I do. Who you think my family is?
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: I don't know. Your team?
JOSH EXLEY: Don't get cornball on me, man. Next thing you'll be telling me is I owe it to all the little kids to break the home-run record, or I owe it to the black folks who think I'm one of them, to make it to the majors or I should just keep playing out of some meaningless human concept of pride or loyalty.
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: I don't know, Ex.
JOSH EXLEY: We don't think like that, man. We may be able to look like y'all, but we ain't y'all. You know the big thing that separates us from you?
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: What's that?
JOSH EXLEY: We got rhythm.
(They both laugh, then grow serious at the sound of a siren in the distance.)
JOSH EXLEY: Hey... I better go.
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: Yeah.
JOSH EXLEY: Hey... you do me a favor? Will you tell people what I did on the field? Will you tell your kids how I played the game?
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: You know I will, Ex.
JOSH EXLEY: Hey, man, uh... one more thing.
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: What?
JOSH EXLEY: You got a pretty good arm on you, boy.
(They laugh again, then JOSH EXLEY runs off as the siren gets closer.)
(Later that night, OFFICER CORANADO and others are talking to YOUNG ARTHUR DALES in the deserted park.)
OFFICER CORANADO: You may think you know the man, Dales but believe me, you do not know the man.
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: You don't know what I know and you don't know what I don't know.
OFFICER CORONADO: This is no minor-league, Mexico cowboy cop crap. If I told you what was really going on you'd just stare at me in wild-eyed wonder and pee your pants like a baby. Now, tell me what I want to know. Where's Exley?
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: I told you, he told me he was going home.
(CUT TO: Home plate. Same scene as the teaser. Nighttime ball game between the black team and the white team. JOSH EXLEY steps up to the plate.)
JOSH EXLEY: You sure your boy got the right prescription in those spectacles?
(JOSH EXLEY hits the home run.)
UMPIRE: Home run!
(CUT TO: Ballpark)
OFFICER CORANADO: I got a witness puts him at the murder scene. Now, I know they have a tendency to look alike but unless he's got a guy running around town looks identical to him he is a murderer, you could be an accomplice and the two of you fast sliding down a giant razor blade into a big old glass of lemonade.
(CUT TO: Game. Crowd is cheering and laughing. Then KKK RIDERS arrive.)
(CUT TO: Ballpark)
OFFICER CORANADO: But, you hand him over... you can wear your big hat and that pretty badge as long as you want.
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: Are we finished?
OFFICER CORANADO: No, Mr. Dales... You're finished.
(He and the others leave. YOUNG ARTHUR DALES picks up a mitt left on the bench and sees a piece of paper that was hidden under it. It is a map with a home plate drawn over "Bottomless Lakes State Park."
(CUT TO: Game field. Everyone is backing away from the GRAY ALIEN KKK RIDER lying on the ground.)
BLACK COACH: God!
(Both teams and all spectators run away. JOSH EXLEY stands and waits for the GRAY ALIEN to revive. The GRAY ALIEN morphs into the ALIEN BOUNTY HUNTER.)
(CUT TO: YOUNG ARTHUR DALES driving fast.)
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: (impatiently) Come on.
(CUT TO: Game field. The ALIEN BOUNTY HUNTER stands and pffts open the Plam - icepick, stiletto thing.)
ALIEN BOUNTY HUNTER: It's over.
JOSH EXLEY: I know.
ALIEN BOUNTY HUNTER: I warned you. You didn't listen. Now you die.
JOSH EXLEY: It's the right thing to do.
ALIEN BOUNTY HUNTER: What do you know of the right thing to do? You-- who would risk exposing the entire project for a game? A game!
JOSH EXLEY: (smiling sadly) I hit a home run tonight.
ALIEN BOUNTY HUNTER: A home run?
JOSH EXLEY: Number 61. I set a record.
ALIEN BOUNTY HUNTER: Show me your true face so you can die with dignity. As your executioner I show you my true face before I kill you.
(The ALIEN BOUNTY HUNTER morphs into a GRAY ALIEN.)
(CUT TO: YOUNG ARTHUR DALES driving, almost there.)
(CUT TO: Game field.)
ALIEN BOUNTY HUNTER AS GRAY ALIEN: Show me your true face or you will die without honor.
JOSH EXLEY: This is my true face.
ALIEN BOUNTY HUNTER AS GRAY ALIEN: So be it.
(As JOSH EXLEY turns and presents the back of his neck to the ALIEN BOUNTY HUNTER, YOUNG ARTHUR DALES drives up. The ALIEN BOUNTY HUNTER stabs the Plam into JOSH EXLEY's neck.)
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: (yelling and getting out of the car) No! Stop!
(YOUNG ARTHUR DALES runs to where JOSH EXLEY has fallen. The ALIEN BOUNTY HUNTER is gone.)
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: Ex?!
JOSH EXLEY: No... Let me be!
(YOUNG ARTHUR DALES sobs as he reaches JOSH EXLEY and holds him. The ALIEN BOUNTY HUNTER gets on his horse and rides away.)
JOSH EXLEY: (desperate) Don't. Get off me. Our blood is like acid to you people. Arthur, get away. Don't touch it.
YOUNG ARTHUR DALES: It's just blood, Ex. Look. It's just blood.
(YOUNG ARTHUR DALES shows JOSH EXLEY his fingers which are covered in red blood.)
JOSH EXLEY: (amazed) Wow.
(JOSH EXLEY laughs, then weakens and dies in YOUNG ARTHUR DALES' arms. Spiritual from the bus begins playing. Overhead shot of YOUNG ARTHUR DALES gazing up into the night sky and )
( scene shifts into present day ARTHUR DALES' apartment. Overhead shot of MULDER and ARTHUR DALES sitting on the couch. ARTHUR DALES looks up at the camera, arms held to his chest. Spiritual keeps playing.)
(Night. MULDER is at a baseball field hitting balls fired from a pitching machine. He is wearing a baseball jersey - Gibson, #20, the Grays. SCULLY walks around the fence and watches him.)
SCULLY: So, uh... I get this message marked "urgent" on my answering service from one Fox Mantle telling me to come down to the park for a very special very early or very late birthday present. And, Mulder... I don't see any nicely wrapped presents lying around so, what gives?
MULDER: You've never hit a baseball, have you, Scully?
SCULLY: No, I guess I have, uh... found more necessary things to do with my time than ... (a foul ball hits the fence) slap a piece of horsehide with a stick.
MULDER: Get over here, Scully.
(MULDER holds the bat out for her. SCULLY walks over and takes it. MULDER steps behind her and wraps his arms around her tightly, also holding the bat around her hands.)
SCULLY: (warily, not thrilled) This my birthday present, Mulder? You shouldn't have.
MULDER: This ain't cheap. I'm paying that kid ten bucks an hour to shag balls.
(Camera shows POORBOY smiling and standing beside the batting machine.)
MULDER: Hey, it's not a bad piece of ash, huh?
(SCULLY gives him a "Look.")
MULDER: The bat-talking about the bat. Now, don't strangle it. You just want to shake hands with it. "Hello, Mr. Bat. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." "Oh, no, no, Ms. Scully. The pleasure's all mine."
( SCULLY laughs as their hands grip the bat.)
MULDER: Okay, now, we want to... we want to go hips before hands, okay? (holds his hand a few inches from her hip) We want to stride forward and turn. That's all we're thinking about. So, we go hips... before hands, all right?
(He gingerly touches her hip and with his hands and his own hips pressed against her, turns her the right way.)
MULDER: One more time.
(He touches and turns her hips more confidently.)
MULDER: Hips... before hands, all right?
MULDER: What is it?
SCULLY: Hips before hands.
MULDER: (speaking right into her ear) Right. We're going to wait on the pitch. We're going to keep our eye on the ball. Then, we're just going to make contact. We're not going to think. We're just going to let it fly, Scully, okay?
(MULDER tries to readjust their grips on the bat. Momentary hand struggle between them.)
SCULLY: I'm in the middle.
(She gets her hands back between his. They are both grinning - very cute.)
MULDER: All right, fire away, Poorboy.
(A ball comes to them and they hit it. It goes way foul.)
MULDER: Ooh! That's good. All right, what you may find is you concentrate on hitting that little ball... The rest of the world just fades away-- all your everyday, nagging concerns.
( Scully giggles. They hit the ball again.)
MULDER: The ticking of your biological clock.
MULDER: How you probably couldn't afford that nice, new suede coat on a G-Woman's salary.
MULDER: How you threw away a promising career in medicine... (intimately into her ear) to hunt aliens with a crackpot, albeit brilliant, partner.
(He gets another "Look.")
MULDER: Getting into the heart of a global conspiracy. Your obscenely overdue triple-X bill. Oh, I... I'm sorry, Scully. Those last two problems are mine, not yours.
SCULLY: (with a big smile) Shut up, Mulder. I'm playing baseball.
(They continue to hit the balls. SCULLY laughs. As the balls fly up into the black, star-studded night sky, we see them turn into shooting stars.)