Masters: "Pssh, they'll settle down. Remember what a drama queen you were at first?"
Scully: "No, I mean you have really fucked me. I was your best friend for twenty years, and you walked me into that room with those people, and you fucked us. And it's maddening because you're on the spectrum and you don't even understand how serious this shit is. Which normally is fine, because I love you, but right now I feel like I took crazy pills."
Masters: "If I am guilty of anything, it's believing too much, in their potential to grasp my wonder."
Scully: "Yeah, well you definitely overestimated that motherfucker. You're right about that."
"Now is not the time to give in to small minds. You know what I'm gonna do? I'm gonna publish this as a paper in the Obstetrics & Gynecology Journal. Makes more sense to go through established channels anyway..."
Barton: "Knowing you it'll probably be scratch 'n sniff, or something weird like that. Do you not understand that those were the 'established channels'? Because I know that you do. You've been talking of nothing else for the last two episodes."
Masters: "You never support me! You always cut and run, coward! You're metaphorically making me masturbate for you while you vomit."
Barton: "Don't be a dick, you little dick. I have overextended onto so many limbs it's like Separate Peace over here, no homo, and you're still demanding... What? Not even concretes at this point. Just straight up feeding your insane ego and your delusions that you have not destroyed all of us."
Masters: "Yeah but you're still gonna back me up, right?"
Barton: "Oh, most assuredly so. Fuck 'em."
Masters: "Indeed. Fuck them indeed."
What it feels like is: It feels good. In a world where you can't possibly continue living, you have two choices. One is to change shape, which has a variable rate of success but always includes the destruction of the self as it stands. The other is to blow everything up, set it all on fire, rip it up to shreds. Fusion and fission, we'd say in the nuclear age.
And what's interesting about these two men is that one of them is hampered by thinking so unrealistically big, and the other one is being destroyed by his lack of blue-sky imagination: One imagines a world in which everything is finally okay, which is never going to happen, and the other one is getting suicidal because he can't get out of the nightmare that nothing is okay.