After class, Blondie skitters through the dark to her car. She's unlocking the driver-side door when Donnie Pfaster pops up, leaning against the car opposite. He stops her, and mentions something about being in her Mythology class. Blondie stares back at him, looking apprehensive. "Uh huh," she says, noncommittally. Donnie makes some noise about her maybe having seen him in class? He knows she sits in the front, though, and he sits in the back.... Blondie murmers something unintelligible. She's just waiting for him to get the hell away from her. Donnie asks her about the homework, walking real close to her and getting right in her face. Blondie seems relieved that they've cut to the chase; she looks through her notebook and gives him the assignment. Donnie leers at her and thanks her, placing one of his hands on her open car door, and the other one on the roof of the vehicle, effectively boxing Blondie in. "I have to go," she nervously asserts. "Don't go," Donnie says. "Let go of the door," Blondie says, and when he doesn't, she goes all kick-ass on him, kneeing him in the groin, and then smashing her fists into his neck, just like they taught me in each of the many self-defense classes I had to take whilst attending all-girls school. Blondie drops the ball, though, and instead of leaping into her car and speeding away from Donnie's prone body, she runs off screaming for help. A word to the wise: a person in a car can always escape a person on foot.
Autopsy lab. Scully yanks on her goggles and pulls the sheet away from the victim on the table. The body opens a pair of bright blue eyes. It's Scully on the table. And suddenly, she's not looking down at herself anymore, but looking up at the person performing the autopsy. Technically, though, it's not a person. It's the same demon FHB saw the night he fired Donnie Pfaster. You know -- Satan, or whoever. Scully wakes from this nightmare with a gasp, and sits straight up in her bed. The phone rings, and the camera pans past the digital bedside clock, which, in a shocking development, reads 11:21 PM. Man, Scully goes to bed early. I guess when you have to be at a crime scene at 8 AM, all coifed and curled and beautifully made-up, you need to turn in right after the sun goes down. On the other end of the phone, Mulder tells her that they've arrested someone they think may be their guy. Scully gasps that she'll get dressed.
Over at the jail, they do this faux-smarty thing where Mulder's and Bocks's conversation makes it sound like they've got Donnie Pfaster in the clink, and then we see Donnie Pfaster in the clink, but then it turns out that the guy Mulder and Bocks were talking is this totally other guy in the cell opposite Donnie Pfaster! Foiled again! "He's definitely our guy," Bocks says of Mr. Totally McNotTheirGuy. Mulder enters the prisoner's cell, and Scully stares at him from what she thinks is the safety of the hallway. Right behind her, though, Donnie Pfaster scrutinizes her hair with creepy, crawly lust.