#skinner

[casualmorpheusconsumer]

Why does absolutely no one post walter skinner content. Im gonna cry.

[mssunshiney03]

Whoa Mama!! Yes please!!

Husband started showing me x-files this year.

Season 3 Ep 10, I can admit it.

I’d absolutely blow out Walter Skinner and his bald ass sassy face.

[iamprchung]

This is making the rounds, and yes-- PERFECTION! Skinner made tighty whities look GOOOOOOD!

[sculderand-mully]

this was paper hearts

[icedteainthatbag]

[dr-mohan]

THE X-FILES — 02x25

[aeaeaexxzd]

High school history teacher with a wife and kids:

[fortycumber]

mm whatcha saaaaay...

[thenhc]

[scarstarved]

Ted Raimi as Dennis Skinner SKINNER (1993) dir. Iván Nagy

[supoysoup]

principal skinner got billy and mandy style treatment too now

[iamprchung]

I will die on this hill: Skinner and Scully should have been together.

The way their dynamic evolved over the series—it’s undeniable that there was something there.

Skinner was her anchor in a way that Mulder never could be. Where Mulder was the storm, Skinner was the harbor. He was the one who stood behind her, protected her, fought for her—even when it cost him. And let’s be real—he was in love with her. You could see it in the way he looked at her, the way he never crossed lines but was always there, unwavering.

Mulder and Scully? It was always chaos. Passionate, sure. But also unstable, exhausting, push and pull, never solid ground. With Skinner? It would have been stability without losing intensity—a slow, deep burn instead of a wildfire that consumes everything in its path.

The show left so much unspoken between them, but it was there—the tension, the moments where Skinner would risk everything for her. Not out of duty. Not because it was his job. Because it was her.

In an ideal world, this is how it should have gone. Scully and Skinner wouldn’t just burn hot—they would last.

[sculderand-mully]

“avatar” summary

[randomfoggytiger]

Mulder's Alien Baby Baby Trauma In-Depth (Part XXIII): Alien Babies, Shared Fears, and Hoped-For Escapes

Essence is chaotic and messy; but it also raises one or two intriguing points, as well as continues to establish Mulder's evolving dynamics with each character. It's a shoddy craft you have to cut around in order to refurbish; but it's salvageable-- at least, for this analysis.

Disclaimer: if you, like me, enjoy Season 8 up to a point-- and that point is midway through Essence-- I suggest you consider this post the end of the Alien Baby Baby Trauma series. Or at least skip over the next part when it's posted; and come back for the third and final addition. That way, Mulder and Scully run off into the night, together, and don't reappear until Existence's final five minutes.

Regardless, this part of the analysis marks the beginning of the end. There are a few loose threads the series strives to conclude-- or elucidate, for future (non-) exploration: namely, the mystery behind Per Manum's there-and-gone alien fertility clinic, the intrigue behind the hybrid alien replacements, and-- most importantly-- the mystery and happy ending for the Mulder-Scully family.

Now: let's tackle Mulder's slow descent into chaos.

ESSENCE AND EXISTENCE'S MAIN THEME

Mulder's monologue sets the tone for the finale two-parter:

"We call it the miracle of life. Conception: A union of perfect opposites-- essence transforming into existence-- an act without which mankind would not exist and humanity cease to exist. Or is this just nostalgia now? An act of biology commandeered by modern science and technology? Godlike, we extract, implant, inseminate... and we clone.

"But has our ingenuity rendered the miracle into a simple trick? In the artifice of replicating life can we become the creator? Then what of the soul? Can it, too, be replicated? Does it live in this matter we call DNA? Or is its placement the opposite of artifice, capable only by God.

"How did this child come to be? What set its heart beating? Is it the product of a union? Or the work of a divine hand? An answered prayer? A true miracle? Or is it a wonder of technology-- the intervention of other hands? What do I tell this child about to be born? What do I tell Scully? And what do I tell myself?"

The last three lines are the cornerstones of this finale two-parter: "What do I tell this child... what do I tell Scully... what do I tell myself?" And the order is important, too: Mulder knows this child will have questions-- how does he answer them? One layer deeper: he knows Scully harbors questions and doubts-- what can he say to her to assure them both? And at the center of these ponderings are his own fears and doubts: what does he believe, truly; and can he hold to that belief indefinitely.

The monologue is also a logorrheic oration of Mulder's struggle with his identity post-abduction: reborn to a life he'd at first assumed moved on without him, one with more questions than answers, still. And with these swirling questions looms his old skepticism with too-neatly tied bows on top of too-neatly provided miracles; and his new dominating PTSD. The triple combination is over-powering, and leads him to believe then question, believe then question throughout the latter end of Season 8-- and not just him, but Scully, too (as Essence's script notated, post here.)

If Essence through Existence had been well-written, it would've effected a succinct one-two-three masterstroke of Mulder and Scully's seven-year arc: finding the truth in themselves, turning "I want to believe" into "The truth we both know."

That aside, the monologue steers the remainder of Season 8: Mulder's mission, Scully's reactions, Mulder's and Scully's and Doggett's and Skinner's cumulative irrational actions. The problem, of course, comes down to execution.

THIS IS THE BEGINNING OF A BEAUTIFUL FRIENDSHIP

We pick up from Mulder's perspective the day after Scully's baby shower. He arrives at Doggett's door on a Saturday, ignoring the charms of the man's porch trellis (post here) and NASCAR ritual to wheedle him onto an open investigation.

From his demeanor, Mulder appears more at ease, parrying Doggett's "Agent Mulder" with a muted, "You can drop the 'Agent', Agent Doggett. It's just plain Fox Mulder now." His voice is wistful when referring to his former status; but not disheartened, nor uneasy. He's made progress towards peace-- would probably be more at peace if he wasn't bearing bad tidings.

Doggett nods neutrally, figuring out how to navigate that landmine; and decides to face it head on, changing gears a little too familiarly with an inviting, "Right. You want to come in, Fox? I was just watching a race."

His guest accepts with a double entente. "That's what I was doing. Slightly different race, though." Walking in and switching the channel, he then hooks Doggett's interest with the suspicious, recent burning of a fertility clinic-- a link to Scully that Mulder doesn't spell out but anticipates the other agent will connect independently.

Doggett follows along, helping Mulder access the crime scene through his credentials and even skillfully avoiding a fight between on-site investigator Agent Crane. The patience for Mulder's antics begins to thin when nothing suspicious turns up; and he's about to call it quits when Agent Excommunicado-- who is having a good time with Agent Doggett in tow--

--uncovers a professional association between the deceased victim and Scully's former obstetrician, Dr. Parenti. Connection firmly established, both X-Files men sneak over to Parenti's clinic.

Mulder blatantly ignores proper procedure-- as usual-- but thoroughly enjoys roping Doggett in as an accomplice; and the latter rewards this inclusion by unquestioningly having Mulder's back.

During their snooping around, the two split up. Doggett finds the stash of preserved fetuses while Mulder comes face-to-face with an incensed, mid-procedure Dr. Parenti. Catching a glimpse of the vulnerable woman sitting just behind the doctor, Mulder's face changes, angry himself over what he suspects is diabolical predation.

The intruders leave after a fruitless altercation; and, back at the crime scene, Mulder overhears Agent Crane's remarks and triangulates a confrontation between the third man, himself, and Doggett. Why, you ask? Because the X-Files exists-- as he told Agent Doggett earlier-- to make people angry in its pursuit of the truth. This moment is a test, measuring his replacement's backbone against friendly but oppositional forces.

The entire scene of dialogue discusses unidentifiable biological material-- possibly alien in origin-- that neither files man shrinks from observing out loud; and Mulder, addressing Crane directly at the end of their exchange, knows that the FBI team is listening in. Doggett knows, too; and doesn't attempt to save face, either-- which is exactly what Mulder wanted to see.

The second trip to Parenti's is not as profitable-- their suspect is dead; and Billy Miles knocks Mulder through a glass wall, leaving him unconscious on the floor (and Doggett barricaded in another room.) Still, there are brief glimmers of success: (e.g. Mulder trusting his not-partner to simultaneously wander off and cover his back; and the substantial link between possible conspiratorial forces and Scully's pregnancy.)

OUR CONCERNS ARE NOT SO DIFFERENT, YOU AND I

Back at Scully's apartment, Mulder submits to his partner's doctoring until she touches a particularly tender patch. Gently, he snatches her wrist away-- "Oh, Scully"-- acknowledging her quiet "Sorry" with a slightly lessened grimace.

Mulder being Mulder, he spots an opportunity for a quip. "I see why you gave up a career in medicine--"

"Mulder," Scully interjects, smiling disapprovingly: knowing, already, where this is going. (Perhaps an old joke between them?)

"--for the FBI, Scully. You've got manos de piedra."

She does not let this mischaracterization slide, picking up a cotton swab and unexpectedly booping his nose before returning to her work.

Mulder brushes at boffed dignity, had.

"Sorry," Scully adds, referring to her earlier mistake.

Off of a brewing thought, her partner mulls, "Imagine if he'd connected."

"Who?"

"Billy Miles."

"Billy Miles?" she repeats, straightening her spine to engage eye contact. "He did this?"

And out it comes: Mulder and Doggett's misadventures, Doggett's corroboration-- to a point-- and Mulder's theory: " Well, Billy Miles is a whole new deal. He's an alien abductee who was returned after hideous procedures were performed on him. And who miraculously returns to so-called perfect health when his body completely sheds its skin."

Scully presses her lips together ever so slightly; and Doggett voices what she and he are thinking: "Same thing happened to you."

"Same thing would've happened to me," Mulder insists, bluntly setting the record straight, " if I'd been left alone." Locking eyes with his partner, he spells out, " If Scully hadn't treated me."

Mulder, then, is laying the credit of his recovery completely at Scully's feet: not a surprise, but a sweet touch.

Scully turns the page away from unpleasant thoughts, piping up with an insistent, "And what were you doing there?" When he doesn't answer right away, her eyebrows shoot up momentarily, and she adds, "Mulder?"

And it all comes out.

"Listen, Scully, I'm sorry, but I just need to know that this baby of yours is going to be all right."

"My baby is fine, Mulder. I've had it checked over and over again with my new doctor that I trust implicitly."

Lizzie Gill momentarily interrupts their discussions-- "She's just helping me out here at my mother's insistence", Scully excuses, hiding the fact she'd warmed to the idea herself.

And Mulder-- never failing to grasp an opportunity-- uses the brief interlude to his benefit. "That's... that's all I'm trying to do. Just make sure nothing happens to you; that this baby you're carrying is born without any surprises."

A few noteworthy details here: Scully, as previously remarked, is not as sure about "her baby" as she pretends. The script mentions that she is "overcompensating" here; and that correlates with Scully's own confession in Existence's conclusion: ("From the moment I became pregnant, I feared the truth... about how... and why. And I know that you feared it, too.") Even though she works hard to be impenetrable, to embrace this chance with open arms, Mulder sees right through it-- said plainly that he's already seen through it in his opening monologue. "What do I tell Scully?" is answered in Existence's conclusion-- "I think what we feared were the possibilities. The truth we both know"-- but that's after the dust has settled and the day has been saved. What can he say now? That is why Mulder is running around: to give his family answers-- answers the Mulders never had (post here), if one wishes to extrapolate his motives farther.

(Side note: Is this the best writing? No. Is it the worst writing? Not yet. Is it, in its current form, serviceable. Yes-- if the "your baby" and "my baby" would be dropped, it would zip along rather nicely.

Why doesn't "your baby" and "my baby" work? Because Mulder and Scully have gone weeks now referring to their child indirectly or not at all; and, though that in and of itself was a tease, it was a tease in line with both characters' minimal communication. "When he's old enough, tell the kid I went down swinging" and "You gotta worry about the little boy" are cleverer ways to hedge around the baby-- adding on "your" and "my" only confusingly detaches and depersonalizes its connection from Mulder, or Mulder's consideration of that connection.)

THE KNOT BEGINS TO TIGHTEN

Another tie to Parenti's clinic is murdered that night-- Per Manum's Duffy Haskell-- and his death draws Doggett and Skinner and Mulder to the scene of the crime.

Skinner, fed up with improper answers, pulls Mulder aside and questions him about the baby: "Some business we need to clear up. Personal business. About Scully's baby, about who the father is." Blowing over his former agent's quip about the FBI betting pool, he continues, "I've had my suspicions. That is, until I found out that you had questions. Questions about Scully's pregnancy itself."

Mulder warms to the A.D.'s candid, no-nonsense consideration; and confesses, "You want to know who the father is, that's Scully's business. But if you're asking me how a woman who was diagnosed as barren and unable to conceive is about to give birth in a couple days, that's an answer I can't honestly give."

It's a tricky game of disclosing only so much to minutely advance the plot; and, considering the writers' later tactics, one of the more sophisticated methods. Mulder is questioning where the baby came from-- at the present, whether it's even human. He does not trust Scully's scans because Parenti referenced them earlier; and he does not trust in convenient miracles-- never has, never will. And because he cannot explain these considerations with a clear conscience, he cannot answer his, Scully's, and now Skinner's questions.

Unappeased, the A.D. reaches for his phone, ready to worm clarification out of Scully for once. Mulder intercepts this attempt, politely; and Skinner lets him, cognizant that both agents know how to handle each other best.

Scully ditches the shower to answer the phone, dashing (as much as she's able) to catch it before the line goes dead. Mulder, hearing her irregular breathing, immediately pivots from his rote "Hey, Scully, it's me" to an alert "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," she assures, "I just ran from the shower."

Mid-conversation, Scully realizes Lizzie Gill might be a spy; and the call cuts short when she catches the other woman swapping out the prenatal vitamins.

The scene changes to the hospital where she stands distraught-- barely holding onto her dignity until Dr. Speake walks over to reassure her. Mulder and Maggie wait in the hall until the doctor slips by; and he continues to stand guard as Mrs. Scully embraces her daughter comfortingly (and apologetically.)

Skinner joins Mulder in the hallway--

--and the latter follows him out to interrogate Lizzie Gill. (Though absent by necessity, his departure reinforces Scully's long-held worry that the X-Files will always dominate Mulder's attention-- a concern that will resolve itself in two scenes.)

The interrogation is conducted by Mulder, Doggett, and Skinner, who take turns grilling Lizzie on her involvement in the Parenti project. She is equally forthright with her answers, unabashedly laying out that her former boss and his associates were working under the orders of "government men"-- adjacent, then, to the Syndicate. And that part is important: Lizzie Gill's assignment was tangential to the Project's work on Emily Sim-- creating a child cloned from a human egg and alien DNA.

"Alien babies. Birthed by human mothers desperate to conceive. They didn't live more than a couple of days, but tissue and stem cells is what we were after for other experiments."

Mulder rubs his temples, disgusted by this revelation: and immediately launches into what is most important to him. "What did you do to Scully?"

When Lizzie's answer doesn't satisfy, he repeatedly yells, "What did you do to her! Tell me what's wrong with her! Tell me what's wrong with her baby!" It's not until Doggett intervenes with a gentle, "Listen to her-- what she's saying," that he calms long enough to hear the rest.

And, of course, the revelation is somehow worse than everyone assumed: "There's nothing wrong with her. That's what I'm trying to tell you. The child she is carrying is very special. One could only hope to create that in a lab. A perfect human child but with no human frailties."

This means one of two horrifying things:

The Parenti clinic did not create this child-- worse, they marvel at, and are invested in, its existence.

The baby-- normal or not-- is a wanted asset; and Scully a target by proxy.

This may act as confirmation that the child was most likely conceived by Scully under "human" conditions-- i.e. with Mulder's involvement-- but that merely allays one fear while breeding ten more. Scully previously had a child-- born-and-bred by the Project-- that she let go to protect. Now the Syndicate-- or their scattered allegiances--are restarting the cycle with this pregnancy. Her only hope is that this baby is not what anyone is expecting; and, luckily for Scully, that is what what the ending of Existence establishes (and the beginning of Nothing Important Happened Today throws away. But I digress.)

Mulder doesn't know what to do or who to turn to; so, he stands and runs back to Scully, ignoring Doggett's initial attempts to haphazardly trail behind.

THE GREAT ESCAPE

Arriving at his partner's apartment, he makes sure she's alone before insisting she start packing, immediately.

Scully, confused and frightened, becomes frustrated after he cryptically recounts, "No-- your, your baby is fine. It's you who's in danger now, Scully."

"From who? Mulder, from what?"

Part one of the truth reveals itself-- one that will guide his actions the rest of Essence and Existence: "I don't know, I'm not sure. I'm not sure about anything. I just know I've got to get you out of here."

Mulder is not thinking rationally anymore-- he is out of answers or solutions, and is now relying solely on adrenaline-fueled gut instinct. This leads him to a multitude of questionable choices (as will be explored in the next post) that no one bothers to checkmate or pump the breaks on. He is in panic mode-- one that rears its ugly head whenever aliens or Conspiracy are mentioned post-Deadalive (i.e. tearing up over continued abductions, post here; beating a black-oiled worker nearly to death, post here; and currently jumping to alien baby conclusions and continued catastrophic thinking.) He desperately needs someone to reason with him; but, alas, no one will because the writing says so.

Fed up with the overreach of evil in her life-- having lost her sister and her health and her fertility to the monster of the Conspiracy; and having left the files without plans to return-- Scully snaps, incensed. A limit has been reached, and a line in the sand drawn. "Look, Mulder, look, I can't take this! I can't live like this—as, as the object of some unending X-File."

And part two of the truth reveals itself-- one that has grown and taken root in Mulder's life over the past eight years: "This isn't about the X-Files, Scully. It is only about you."

He expands this truth to include the little Scully-- "Now, you are going to have this baby and I'm going to do everything I can to protect it. I just can't do that here"-- and waits for his partner to process his promise and trust it.

After a long, assessing pause-- weighing Mulder's transparency against other (or any) alternatives-- Scully acquiesces, gliding away to hastily pack her things.

But as fast as she is, Billy Miles is faster. While Mulder is on the phone with Doggett, Billy arrives, cutting the power lines as he works his way up to Scully's apartment.

Both former agents freeze, taking in the sudden darkness; and realize their chance at escape is fleeting. They make it down the hall and out the stairs mere seconds before their pursuer arrives, fleeing into the night towards her car.

Mulder outstrips Scully's pace effortlessly; and she passes over the keys so he can jump behind the wheel and unlock her passenger side door-- both fluidly in time with each other's movements.

Having escaped, all is well; and both speed off into the night.

...Right?

CONCLUSION

The next part will tackle the egregious errors of Essence and Existence-- the bits that can be (I posit: should be) tossed into the garbage truck that crushed Billy Miles.

In the meantime, we bask in the bare minimum: story beats that aren't egregiously expositional, with moments that navigate previous characterization through formulaic, tension-building Chris Carter rhythms. It's not a clean break, overall; but it's not too sloppy, either.

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

[dr-mohan]

THE X-FILES — 02x17