Doggett continues to chase Mulder across the very expensive set. "Agent Moooooulder!" he calls. "Don't walk away when I'm talking to you! I was assigned to this case. One call to the Deputy Director, and you're canned for insubordination!" Mulder keeps walking. "You can't call," he says shortly. Seems the radio is broken. Didn't we just hear that ship-to-shore was working? For the fourth time, whatever. The two manly agents manfully walk around the rig, looking manly. There's enough testosterone on this set to...God, I can't seem to think of a way to finish that sentence that doesn't completely gross me out, so I'll leave you to your own devices with that one. "Don't push me," Doggett snaps at Mulder, who's just slightly ahead of him. Mulder turns. The men stand nose to nose. Manly posturing. Manly posturing. Doggett reminds Mulder that he's in charge. It's his way, or the highway. Mulder is all, whatever. He snidely wonders what sort of story Doggett is planning to spin for Kersh. Doggett snappishly tells Mulder not to stereotype him. Taking a different tack, he asks Mulder why Foreman is lying. "He knows the truth, and he's not the only one," Mulder sniffs. Doggett shakes his head. "You could find a conspiracy in a church picnic," he says. "What church?" Mulder smirks. Wow, that was an incredibly bad comeback. Mulder stomps off. Doggett rolls his eyes and looks heavenward, as if for guidance. He actually looks faintly amused. Looking up at him through the metal grid of the rig's floor, from inside what must be the bowels of the structure, is Not Curly. And the plot thickens.