10:22 PM. Skinner brings Doggett the corner's report. I nudge Exposition awake, as Doggett reads that all the victims were killed by a single blow from an ax blade, and Skinner explains that the wounds don't match up to any known makes or manufacturers. Taking a Xeroxed copy of a photo of an ax -- the very ax we've already seen -- from a file, Doggett explains that said ax was once used "the cleave the skulls of unbelievers" in a scenario detailed in some of "required reading" of Tipet's followers. Unfortunately, the ax itself is on permanent display in a museum in Calcutta. "Another dead end," Skinner sighs. He and Doggett look downtrodden for a moment, before Doggett leans in and tells Skinner that they both know he's not the agent who ought to be investigating this case. "Scully can't," Skinner says, a little sadly. "You talked to her?" Doggett spits. Skinner explains, carefully, that Scully's "taking some personal time," which makes Doggett quite snippy. "I've got twenty-two dead people, and she's taking some personal time?" he snaps. "She's pregnant with a mysterious, possibly alien, baby and the only man she's ever really loved, we think, who may also be the father of her child, maybe, has been abducted by aliens, all of this on top of the fact that her sister has been murdered, her mother is consistently AWOL, her brother is a jackhole, she's had cancer, been abducted by aliens twice herself, had a giant amphibian inserted into her spine, seen people burst into flames in front of her, almost got killed by a killer bee, had her biological child die on her, and been recently attacked by a Man Bat. Hell, yes, the woman is taking a little goddamn personal time!" Skinner screams, smacks Doggett sharply, and stomps out. In his dreams. In reality, he gives Doggett a withering glare. "You're not listening to what I'm telling you," he snaps. "Do your best without her." Doggett looks concerned. "What he said was better than what you wrote, anyway," Exposition mutters under his breath. "Can it, plot device," I say. I'd kick him off the sofa, except for the fact that he's massaging my feet, and I would let a man who massages my feet burn down my house and steal my dog.