They find Kurt, whose head, literally, looks as though someone has used it as a bowling ball -- he has huge gaping bloody holes in both eyes, two in his head, and one right near his mouth. It's even grosser than the Banana Slug! It's grosser than the rats! It's grosser than all the gross stuff that happened last week that I've blocked out of my memory because it's just too painful! Scully and Doggett are nonplussed.
It's Autopsy Time! Scully pokes Kurt's scalp, and makes a note. Doggett bursts in the door, and walks right past this really hot guy who's also in the autopsy room. Who's this guy? Is he, like, Scully's Hot Autopsy Assistant? Maybe he's the baby's father. Go, girlfriend. He's tasty! Scully tells Doggett that the crash didn't kill Kurt -- it was getting someone's Fingers of Steel jammed through his face. "That doesn't seem possible," Doggett says. Oh my God, people, he's the skeptic. We. Get. It. I leave the house, drive over to Chris Carter's place in the hills, and erect a giant billboard reading, "WE GET IT. PS: You're a hack!" right in front of his bedroom window. On the way back, I swing past David Duchovny's and throw up one reading, "I'm sorry I called you an ass. Can you come back? Like, NOW?" We'll see if they work. Doggett informs Scully that they were able to lift a print from the windshield of Kurt's car -- and it belonged to one Supposedly Dead "Raymond Aloysius Pearce." Maybe he went postal because his middle name is Aloysius. Guess what? Ray's blood? Also on the scene. In other words: Supposedly Dead Ray is, in fact, Not Dead.
Not Dead Ray opens his eyes in the luxury of what looks like a hostel or a homeless shelter. He gumpily goes to the bathroom, and starts removing small pieces of metal which appear to be growing out of his face, using a rusty pair of toenail clippers. Metal scraps fall into the sink. See, it's like shaving, except for it's metal growing out of his face and not hair. Because he's a metal man. He's metal-tastic!
Doggett swings by to visit Nora, The Very Worst Actress Ever, who's in the midst of entertaining the dude who ran the salvage yard where Kurt and Ray toiled so thanklessly. She reluctantly lets Doggett in and tells him that she doesn't understand why he's so interested in Ray. Doggett mildly asks her to elaborate on Ray's relationship with Kurt. "I know what their relationship is now," she spits. "They're BOTH DEAD." I hate you, Bad Actin' Nora. Maybe Ray faked his death to get away from your scenery-chewing ass. Doggett probes Nora about the cause of Ray's death. Salvage Dude rolls his eyes; he's heard this song and dance before, poor soul. Nora starts the Song of Gulf War syndrome, closing with a rousing rendition of "No One Will Cop to That, But I Aim to Prove It." Who does she think she is, Sissy Spacek in Coal Miner's Daughter? Who uses the verb "to aim" anymore? Whatever. Doggett wants to know why Ray wasn't cremated as she had requested. She doesn't know; there were ashes at the funeral. Apparently, though, those ashes weren't Ray's, because the crematorium has no record of even receiving his body. Salvage Dude wonders if Nora hasn't suffered enough. Dude, have you seen her acting? She hasn't suffered nearly enough. Doggett wonders if Ray is still alive. "Still alive?" Nora parrots awkwardly. Doggett explains that he thinks Ray was involved in Kurt's death. "You think Ray faked his own death?" Salvage Dude does some parroting of his own. Somehow Doggett refrains from bashing these nimrods' heads together, and merely assents, telling them about the blood and fingerprints. Nora has a long and painful monologue about The Agony of nursing Ray though His Last Moments. Salvage Dude tells Doggett firmly that Ray wouldn't hurt a fly. Doggett makes a big old whatever face.