All language subtitles for The X-Files S11E04 The Lost Art of Forehead Sweat

I know you think I'm crazy.

But it's not me.

It's the world.

The world's gone mad.

Because...

because Martians have invaded, but...

nobody seems to care!

Take it easy, mister.

Have a cup of joe.

I can't take it easy.

I just saw one outside.

So, tell me,

what do these Martians look like?

They... have giant heads

and multiple appendages.

Yikes.

And they're,
here to eat us or something?

No. They have a ray of some kind...

that makes us...

forget.

Forget what?

- There! I just saw one.
- Where?

Outside through that window.
I just saw one of 'em.

Hey, mister.

That ain't a window. That's a mirror.

What is this,

some kind of sick joke, Buddy?

It's no joke.

And my name's not Buddy.

Wait, what?!

Synced & corrected by -robtor-
www.addic7ed.com.

Hello.

Mulder, it's me.
Where have you been?

I've been trying your cell all day.

I was out squatchin'.

- What?
- Bigfoot hunting.

I had my phone turned off.

Did you have any luck?

No, but that's not really the point.

I just had to get away from
the madness for a little while.

It seems this past year
all I've done is watch the news

and worry that the country's gone insane.

I had to get out to nature.

You know, where it's simple
and uncomplicated,

where it's just you and the elements.

And possibly
a cryptozoological, simianlike,

hairy humanoid with enormous feet.

I think you just like
saying "squatchin'."

We still on for dinner tomorrow night?

Yeah, I'll see you then.

Hey, Scully,
I ever tell you about the time

I found a Sasquatch footprint in the mud?

- Yeah, you did. I...
- It was 35 years ago, about.

- Mulder, I've heard this before.
- On the banks

- of the mighty Mogoagogo River.
- Mulder, you already told me.

- I got to go, got to go, Mulder.
- In beautiful British Columbia.

Scully? Scully?

Mulder.

It's me.

Now, II know you're surprised to see me.

I thought we were all done after...

you know, that last case.

I've stumbled on the conspiracy to...

to end all conspiracies.

Who are you?

So they have already gotten to you.

How did you know how
to contact me? To meet me here?

I... It had to be someplace safe.

They...

they'd kill us if they had the chance.

And who are "they"?

They are why you don't remember.

Why aren't people getting probed
by aliens anymore?

You used to know,
but they made you forget...

so that you wouldn't remember me.

Look, what is this all about?

My God. Look, there's no way
for me to make you understand

without me seeming like a crazed madman.

It's a little late for that.

I think your ride is here.

The first Twilight Zone episode

you ever saw... it was
"The Lost Martian," right?

You remember that?

And if I do?

That Twilight Zone episode...

doesn't exist.

It never did.

Were you followed?

Who is that?

It would be a hell of a twist

if it were Rod Serling.

Submitted for your approval.

No, it's not in here, either.

Mulder, what I don't understand

is how this guy knew

about your secret rendezvous signal.

Who cares about any of that, Scully?

I can't find "The Lost Martian."

WhWhen he said that that episode

of The Twilight Zone didn't exist,

that's when I knew he was
a crazy person. It's a classic.

So I came home, and I checked

my box DVD set, and it wasn't on there.

I checked all my episode guidebooks.

No mention of it.

I searched online. Nothing.

So now I'm going through
my tapes because I'm sure

I recorded it at some point.

Well, maybe it's one
of those other shows, like...

Outer Limits or...

Confuse The Twilight Zone
with The Outer Limits?

Do you even know me?!

Can we talk about this
over dinner, please?

II'm not gonna be able to eat
until I find this.

Ever again.

It can't be that good of an episode.

Itlt'sit's not
about the episode, Scully.

It's about my memory

of seeing my first Twilight Zone.

It changed me.

You don't forget that.

I was eight years old.

My parents let me stay up till midnight

because that was back
in the day when it only aired,

you know, late at night
on some local channel.

Wait, what?!

And my name's not Buddy.

- Now I get it.
- Wait, what?!

I remember it all so clearly,

as if it just happened.

He stand you up again?

Are you that guy
that met with Mulder last night?

What gave it away, Skulls?

He mentioned

the forehead sweat.

I need you to help me find someone.

Who?

Me.

They...

they're trying to erase me!

Skulls, look, I can prove it.

Hey, I'm armed.

Just...

Wh...

WhWhere did you find this?

My fingerprints are on that box.

Just prove that I'm real!

WWait!

Who...

Let me... LLet me,
let me get this straight.

WhWhen it cools, it forms
into three different layers,

with three different textures,
all from the same mix?

How has this never been an XFile?

II have such wonderful memories
associated with it.

I remember my mom making it.

I remember family vacations
over the summer holidays,

and Fourth of July, fireworks,

America, God, love.

That's some JellO.

I mean, just the cherry flavor.

The lemonlime tasted
like leprechaun taint.

But II have literally been
looking for this for decades.

But every time I look
for GoopO ABC, everyone says,

"No, you must be thinking
about JellO 123."

It's the Mandela Effect.

- What do you mean?
- When someone has

a memory of something that's not shared

by the majority or the factual record.

For instance, there are
some people that have a memory

of seeing a movie called
Shazaam, starring Sinbad

as an irrepressible genie, even
after it's pointed out to them

that they're probably thinking
of a movie called Kazaam,

starring Shaquille O'Neal
as an irrepressible genie,

especially 'cause a movie
called Shazaam was never made.

But what if I don't remember
either movie?

- You win!
- But, Mulder,

isn't your false Twilight Zone memory

also a Mandela Effect?

No, because my false memory is real.

But, again, how does this... mystery guy,

whose fingerprints came up with nothing,

how does he even know about these,

these secret memories of ours?

You can ask him yourself tonight.

I already taped an "X"
to the window this morning.

But that's your secret rendezvous signal.

I don't want to intrude.

He clearly wants you involved, Scully.

Come on, it'll be like a date.

Well, this is romantic.

Isn't it?

So, who are you?

I think my name is Reggie.

Reggie something.

Well, Mr. Something, you want to
tell us what this is all about?

Like all
lifequestioning revelations,

it came to me while I was moving.

Not myself, but my mother.

And when unpacking her stuff,
I came across a bunch

of old things of mine she kept.

Remembering my mom reading
Dr. Wuzzle books to me

is one of the fondest memories I have.

But... when I looked more
closely at the book's cover,

well, that's when the
woozlewozzleblooberblubs

really hit the fan.

Wait, what?

Because Dr. Wuzzle's name
was spelled different

than how I remembered... not with two Ss,

but with two Zs.

What's happening?!

- It's the Mandela Effect.
- The what effect?

The Mandela Effect.
When someone has a memory

that doesn't coincide with
everybody else's or the facts.

So named because
some people have a memory

of hearing that Nelson Mandela
died in the '80s

while imprisoned, when, in fact,
he died a free man in 2013.

No. It's called the Mengele Effect

because people have a memory

of Josef Mengele getting
apprehended in Ohio in 1970.

So, it's the Mengele Effect.

The Mandela Effect has been

an Internet meme for almost a decade.

It's always been called that.

See, you're having a Mengele
Effect about the Mandela Effect.

I should know because
of how I found out about it.

My search led me to a...

historical repository
of vintage Americana.

Excuse me... do you have
any old Dr. Wuzzle books?

That's something somebody might
actually want, so, no.

I do have something over
in the political shame section

that might interest you.

It's a cartoon that
Dr. Wuzzle drew back in 1940.

Damn it, it's still wrong!

Easy, easy! If you're gonna
break something,

use the Evel Knievel doll.

It'll make it more authentic.

What? No.

I'm sorry. Itit...

I remember his name being
spelled in a different way.

Boy. Sounds like somebody's suffering

from the Mengele Effect.

See? It's called the Mengele Effect.

That doesn't prove anything.

D... Just trust me, okay?

I've done a lot of research
into this since then.

And the shop owner himself was
a bit of an expert on the topic.

It all started a couple
years ago... people coming in

looking for some fondlyremembered item

from their past, and I'd show it to them,

but there's always something
just a little off.

And they'd be like, "No",

I remember the logo being racist
in a different way."

It's like everybody's recall was
just a little out of whack.

Yeah, yeah.

And I think the government
knows about it.

Whatwhat do you mean?

Come on, the government always
knows more than they let on.

For instance, do you think
that the government

didn't know, when this
was being sold back in the '70s,

that it wasn't full of carcinogens?

They know the truth
about the... Mengele Effect.

That's when I launched
my own investigation

into the phenomenon.

The Mengele Effect is being

intentionally orchestrated by someone.

Who? And to what end?

For the simple reasons that Orwell said.

"He who controls the past
controls the future."

The ability to manipulate memory
creates unlimited power...

political, economical, cultural.

It runs the gamut from Holocaust denial

to corporate product recognition.

There are companies who are
willing to pay anything,

do anything, to have people forget

that their products explode on
impact or suddenly catch fire.

Companies like G...

spending billions in profit
to repress these memories.

Thethe only thing
I haven't been able to do is

to figure out how they're doing it.

They can't.

II'm sorry, but this is ridiculous.

I mean, the Mandela Effect is simp...

It's the Mengele Effect, guys.

It's the Mengele Effect. Just say it.

Is simply people misremembering stuff.

But maybe... this is actually
evidence of a parallel universe.

- Wait, what?!
- Wait, what?!

So maybe ththese differences

in collective memories
are actually evidence of

of our universe somehow becoming
intertwined with another,

if not identical,
then very similar, universe.

So people's memories are correct.

They're just remembering something

that happened in another dimension.

Hence, the discrepancies.

That's science, Scully.

- Theoretical science, at best, Mulder.
- Yeah.

We're not gonna do
this parallel universe,

scifi gobbledygook, nerd boy, okay?

So just, please, drop it.

Because that crap gives me a headache.

It's a lot better

than some evil entity
zapping people's brains

with a hypnoray gun?

I never mentioned a hypnoray gun...

Guys...

it's faulty memory because Occam's razor.

That's "Ozzie's razor," not Occam's.

It's always been Ozzie's razor.

Maybe in a parallel universe it is,

but in still yet another universe,

it's perhaps known as "Occam's ax."

It's not parallel universes!

Now, look,

since I'm the only one with any
proof of this insidious plot...

What proof?
You've yet to offer any proof.

Proof is in the fact that once I
uncovered what they were up to,

they turned the Mengele Effect on me.

Just, look.

It's my high school yearbook
my mom kept, right?

There is not a single picture
of me in here... anywhere.

There's not any inscriptions
from my classmates here.

No "Have a great summer,"
"You were funny in math class."

Nothing. It's like I never
even went to this school.

Maybe you did,
but in a parallel universe.

Exactly... Knock that off.

Reggie, none of us
remember our high school years

with much accuracy.

Skulls, I wish this was about
my own psychological issues.

That way, the memorabilia
shop owner would still be alive.

When I went back to tell him
about the conspiracy

to manipulate memory, and to see
if he had those little...

Do you guys remember the little candies

that were shaped like watermelon slices,

but they taste like coconut?

When I went back, they had silenced him.

They had impaled him with a lawn dart.

I'm sorry, but

what's a lawn dart?

It's this kid's game,
where you would try

to throw these minimetallic
javelins into the air

onto these rings that you put on a lawn.

And they sold these to kids?

We were made of sterner stuff
back then, Scully.

Well, it just sounds like
an accidental death to me.

No! No, that's what
they want you to believe!

Sounds like your ride's here.

- You're not...
- She thinks I'm just some kind of

conspiracy nut. Well, you know what?

A conspiracy nut is right twice a day.

No, that's a broken clock.

Okay, it still applies because

they want you to think
all conspiracies are nutty,

so you will ignore the ones
that are true.

Reggie, take it from a fellow nut, okay?

At some point, you're gonna have
to explain who "they" are.

You keep on referring to this
omnipresent, mysterious "they"

to give intentionality to random events,

or external explanations
for psychological ones.

But there's no "they" there.

Who is "they"?

This guy!

He is They!

This is the story
of a man named They.

Dr. Thaddeus Q. They, a neuroscientist

who has discovered a way to
manipulate collective memory.

Most people have never heard
of him, or rather, they have,

but he has manipulated their
memories to make them forget

that they ever have.

While working on NASA's

top secret Operation Soy Bomb,

involving future, oneway space
flights beyond our realm,

Dr. They devised a technique
to change specific memories,

which would allow astronauts
to complete their mission

without being weighed down by
thoughts of life back on Earth.

However, Dr. They was fired

for also making the astronauts think

that they were chimpanzees.

He perfected his research
while at the U.S.

university hospital in Grenada,

and now applies his method for a number

of unknown, mysterious clients.

His memory manipulations
have run the gamut

from Holocaust denial

to corporate product recognition

to making people forget he, himself,

once starred as an irrepressible genie

in a movie called KaBlaam!

Dr. They has not been heard of

for many years, but rumors swirled

that he was at the last
presidential inauguration,

where, amongst the hundreds
of millions who attended,

he was seen occupying the last
remaining seat available.

And as to his motivations
for being there,

and what exactly he is up to
now, we have no way of knowing.

Or perhaps we once did,

but have since been made to forget.

What the hell was that?

That video was...

unbelievable.

You want to hear unbelievable,

check out some of these comments.

"I think the editing
could have been tighter."

This jerk just says, "Meh."

When I stumbled
across this on the Darknet,

I tried to confirm
as much of it as I could,

but I was only able to verify
the most important part...

the Grenada thing.

That was the most important part?

Tell me, Little Miss Skeptic,
why did we invade Grenada?

When was that again?

There was a Marxist overthrow
of the government,

and Reagan was concerned
about some U.S. students

at a university hospital.

Okay, now you're just...

- What?
- You're just embarrassing

yourself at this point.

Those were the official reasons,

but no one really remembers the reasons,

not even me, and I was there!

And I found this amongst my mom's stuff.

I wrote it when I was
in Grenada, when I was 18,

to be read when I turned 50.

"To myself at age 50.

Always remember..."

And the rest of the letter's redacted.

Who redacted it?

I think I did when I wrote it.

It was meant as kind of a joke,
but... I mean, that kind

of stuff was funny
to me when I was a kid.

Okay, what does this prove?

You're missing the most important part.

A Grenada UFO stamp.

- Yeah.
- What's that?

The Prime Minister of Grenada
once advocated in front

of the U.N. for the creation
of a department of UFO research.

Hehe issued these stamps
to raise money for that effort.

After he was deposed,
he confessed that a UFO

had crashed off their coast,
and a dead alien

had been recovered from the waters.

Correct, except for one detail.

The alien wasn't dead!

Now, I was a med student
at that hospital.

That's where they brought in
the semiconscious alien,

and Dr. They was in charge
of trying to save it.

Apparently the alien
had been sent to Earth

to warn us about the holes
in the ozone layer.

One of his people
would return in 35 years to see

if we had managed to avoid
environmental catastrophe.

Now, I only caught glimpses
of their conversation.

The two of them talked
alien telepathically.

I will telepathically
transfer to you

all our knowledge
of what you call "the brain."

But that's when
the invasion occurred

and the men
from the government showed up.

Wait, what?

I don't know if I repressed the memory

or Dr. They erased my mind, but...

seeing that stamp,

it all came flooding back to me.

Now we're dealing
with recovered memories?

II'm sorry. I'm out.

Reggie, what you

told us is theoretically possible.

But more likely
in another universe.

The one thing I didn't forget

was the telepathic screams of that alien.

No, wait, what are you...? Hey..

No...

I wanted to know where the men

from the government took him.

That's when I dropped out of med school,

joined the FBI.

And that's how I started the XFiles.

That's right.

We used to be partners!

Yeah. Mulder.

- Foxy.
- Hey, Reggie. What's up?

Got this really cool poster
for the office, man.

I think you're gonna flip
over it.

Sorry, nobody down here
but the FBI's

most unwanted.

Move along, sugar boobs.

This is the XFiles. No women allowed.

That guy is so creepy.

Changes world history.

And then Columbus
never discovers America.

Man never lands on the moon.

The U.S. never invades Grenada.

Wait, wait, wait, wait.

What's this about Grenada?

Guys, if this turns out to be
killer cats,

I'm gonna be very disappointed.

She's their mother.

Wait, if she's their mother,
how can she be their...

Boy.

All those memories...

You guys mean to tell me
you don't remember any of that?

Not even...

our last case together?

This is the Mengele Effect in action.

Dr. They is using it against us
because he knows

that we are the only team
capable of stopping him.

There is no Dr. They.

Really?

Well, tell that to his henchmen.

And he sent more of them.

What are you doing here?

You don't know?

The legend that I've heard so much about

would have already figured out
who this guy was

that you've been talking to,

and why we were asked
to find out why you are.

But I guess that's how things go:

You start out a rebel,

but then you get fat.

And the next thing you know...

you're deep state.

Sad.

Do you know who I am?

I'm Fox Mulder.

I was fighting the power
and breaking conspiracies

before you saw your first
chemtrail, you punks.

I'm Fox freaking Mulder, you punks!

I'm Fox Mulder!

Fox Mulder!

So this moron's father

is somehow connected there.

Reggie...

To Bob Dylan,
whose '98 Grammy performance

is remembered by millions
because a half naked man

with the words "soy bomb"
written on his chest

jumped onstage and started
dancing like a spaz.

But no official video
of the incident exists.

Did it even happen?

Seven years later, the band Eels
releases a song,

"Whatever Happened to Soy Bomb?"

A coded message?

Especially because the band's
lead singer,

the son of Hugh Everett III,
who originated

the manyworlds interpretation
of quantum physics...

and I'm right back
to parallel universes again.

It's true, Scully, I've lost the plot.

I can't find the hidden connections

between things anymore.

The world has become too crazy

for even my conspiratorial powers.

Maybe you've just lost your taste for it,

especially
after all this "birther" stuff.

Maybe.

Maybe it's just realizing the absurdity

of an evil doctor named They.

Mulder.

When? Where?

Who was that?

Dr. They.

Dr. They, I presume?

Kids today don't even know
what this means.

Why should they?

I mean, when's the last time
someone admitted

doing something they were ashamed of?

Even if caught on tape doing it,
they just say,

"Well, that was taken out of context."

Yes, but why are you shaming me?

Someone who's spent his life
seeking the truth

behind every great conspiracy,

and you're only now finding out about me?

Perhaps it just goes to show

how good you are at hiding
in the shadows.

Who's hiding? I'm in the phone book.

But nobody knows what's
a phone book anymore.

I have to admit,
what little I know of you

I got from a rather dubious online video.

Did you like that? I made it.

"Phony fake news."

It's a presentation of real facts,

but in a way that assures
no one will believe any of it.

To what end?

The bitter end.

Which is why, when I became aware

that you were finally aware of me,

I felt a professional courtesy
to meet with you

and to tell you this in person...

you're dead.

That came out wrong.

I'm sorry.

I didn't mean to scare you.

I meant your time,

Agent Mulder, youryour time has passed.

Okay. So, what is, or what was my time?

Well, it's a time when
people of power thought

that they could keep their secrets secret

and were willing to do anything
to keep it that way.

Those days are passed. Gone.

We're now living in a postcoverup,

postconspiracy age.

NNo doubt, the kids will come up with

some catchphrase for it.

"Poco" or something. They'll say, like,

"That's so poco."

It'll make you wish you really were dead.

As long as the truth gets out...

They don't really care
whether the truth gets out,

because the public no longer knows

what's meant by "the truth."

- What do you mean?
- Well, I mean,

no one can tell the difference anymore

between what's real and what's fake.

There's still an objective
truth, an objective reality.

So what?

I mean, you take this Mandela Effect.

Well, in the old days,
I would never have come out

and admitted to you that, yes,

I can change
people's collective memories.

And that would have meant
that I could control the past.

And if that's true...
well, as Orson Welles once said,

"He who controls the past,
controls the future."

It was George Orwell that said that.

Well, for now maybe.

Anyway, the point is,
I can tell you all of this,

right out in the open,
because it doesn't matter

who knows about it.

They won't know whether
to believe it or not.

To be honest, I'm not believing
any of this.

Well, believe what you want to believe...

that's what everybody does
nowadays anyway.

You're only proving my point, you twit.

But, full disclosure, you're right.

I can't control people's minds.

Although it turns out
you don't really have to.

All you need is some people
to think it's possible.

And then you've sown the seeds
of uncertainty.

All you really need is a laptop.

So that's what this has all been about?

The spread of online disinformation?

Maybe.

You know, our current president once said

something truly profound.

He said, "Nobody knows for sure."

What was he referring to?

What does it matter?

Mulder!

How the hell did you get in here?

Foxy, what did you find out from They?

I'm not exactly sure what
to think about any of it.

God. What did They do to you?

Look, that's exactly what
they want you to think

about everything.

First thing I need to do is
find out who you are.

His name is Reginald Murgatroid.

Using your yearbook,

I tracked down your
high school transcripts.

You only spent a few weeks
there, and you didn't graduate.

But after completing your GEDs,
you enlisted in the army

and participated in the invasion
of Grenada,

where one of the resistance
soldiers/construction workers

hit you on the head with a shovel.

You received medical assistance

at the U.S. university hospital there.

After your stint in the military,

you engaged in a series
of bureaucratic jobs

in various federal agencies.

Starting with the U.S. Postal Service.

Then, the Internal Revenue Service.

The Security and Exchange Commission.

And the Department of Justice,
specifically

in the Witness Protection Agency.

All right, Anthony
"The Meat Grinder" Mortillaro,

onetime hit man for the mob,

you are now Tony Jones,
real estate agent.

But after 9/11,
you joined the CIA.

Hey.

And then onto the Pentagon,
with the Department of Defense.

Boom goes the dynamite!

Wait.

Was that a wedding cake?

Damn it! Not again.

Well, time for lunch.

But your longest stint

was at the NSA,
the National Security Agency.

So you actually voted for him?

Yeah.
He's going to drain the swamp.

Get all those Goldman Sachs
people out of the White House.

Hey, Scully, did I ever
tell you about the time

I found a Sasquatch footprint in the mud?

Yeah, you did.
I've heard this before.

It was 35 years ago, about,

- on the banks...
- It was on the banks

- of the mighty Mogoagogo River.
- Of the Mogoagogo River.

Until about a year ago,

when you were committed
to a mental institution

because you'd had a nervous breakdown.

Wait... what?

Or perhaps

it's merely the culmination
of disillusionment of a man

who simply wanted to spend his
life in service of the country

that he loved, but began
to feel tormented by the idea

that he was betraying its very ideals.

And so, using information,
apparently gathered

through illegal, warrantless wiretaps,

you escaped into a fantasy
where you imagined

that you joined a team that still did

fight for truth and justice.

Or...

I'm from a parallel universe,
and I jumped dimensions...

no, that's stupid.

Right? Sorry.

Well...

looks like my ride is here.

Hey, guys.

You remember what I said last time

about if you wanted me
to come along peacefully?

Aw, Mr. Murgatroid, it demeans all of us.

No. No, it gives us
a touch of classicism.

So you remember how,

crazy people used to be portrayed

as thinking they were Napoleon?

When did that stop?

Maybe it's another Mengele Effect, right?

Well, take care, guys.

Stay sane.

And, um, good luck
with the rest of your cases.

Reggie.

Our last case together, what happened?

We found the truth that's out there.

I'd suddenly recalled the Alien
at Grenada's declaration,

that one of his kind would
return to Earth 35 years later.

Foxy's crazy intuition of the
uncanny led him to figure out

the location of the visitation.

Scully drove.

There it is!

Is that what I think it is?

It's the gold record.

Yup.

It's the Voyager.

What's left of it.

Greetings, Earthlings.

I come before you as a representative

of the Intergalactic Union
of Sentient Beings

from All Known Universes and Beyond.

We have been observing your species

for many, what you call, "years."

Our study is now complete.

We no longer wish to have
any further contact with you.

We have returned your music sampler

but will no longer tolerate any
further efforts on your part

to venture beyond your realm.

We are building a wall.

It will be a beautiful, albeit
invisible, electromagnetic wall

that will subatomically incinerate

any probes you attempt to send
beyond your solar system.

You're free
to explore Uranus all you want.

But we can't allow your kind

to infiltrate the rest of the cosmos.

You're not sending us your best people.

You're bringing drugs.

You're bringing crime.

You're rapists.

And some, I assume, are good people,

but we have no choice.

Believe me.

For although the rest of the galaxies

all have their share
of these same problems,

we fear you could infect us
with the one trait

that is unique to Earthlings.

You lie.

To show there are no hard feelings,

we've compiled a compendium
of answers to any questions

you might still have regarding...

anything.

Good luck, and good riddance.

Bing, bing, bong, bong, bing.

So that's the truth?

We're not alone in the universe,
but nobody likes us?

It's okay, Mulder.

- There'll always be more XFiles.
- No.

They gave us
all the answers to everything.

Even Sasquatch.

No! It's not true!

It can't be.

It's time to face the facts, guys.

This is the end of the XFiles.

But maybe the point
wasn't to find the truth,

but to find each other.

For no matter where we go in our lives,

we will always have the memories
of our time together,

and no one can take those away

or alter them in such a way
to make us doubt

that they actually happened.

Reggie.

I've always...

Shh.

I know.

I know.

And as we now know,

they lived happily ever after.

We'll be sure to come visit you, Reggie.

No, you won't.

Where the hell are they taking Reggie?

Wait, what?

I see you found your lost episode.

Turns out it wasn't
a Twilight Zone after all.

It was a knockoff show
called The Dusky Realm.

Which is now lost for the ages.

Couldn't find anything
to set it in, so I used your...

Bigfoot impression as a mold.

No, wait, you first.

It could be the lemonlime.

But... yeah...

I want to remember how it was.

I want to remember how it all was.

Synced & corrected by -robtor-
www.addic7ed.com