All language subtitles for The.X-Files.S07E06.The.Goldberg.Variation.720p.HULU.WEBRip.AAC2.0.H.264-NTb

Three.

Give me two.

Two.

Can I have five cards, please?

Five?

What, are you serious?

Four is the limit.

Let's see your ace.

If Mr. Weems

wants five...

give him five.

Dealer takes two.

Four.

Nah.

How much is that?

Four grand keeps you in.

You and your five
shiny new cards.

There's $4,000...

...and four more.

Let's make this interesting.

I'm raising you 15 large.

I wouldn't do that.

This is all I need.

You're going to need Depends
after you see this hand.

Now we show each other
our cards?

Four kings.

That's a straight flush, right?

Beginner's luck.

What the hell
do you think you're doing?

Going home.

No, no. Not so fast.

We expect a chance
to win some of our money back.

Guys, there's over
$100,000 here.

You're damn right
there's over $100,000 there.

$100,000 is all I need.

Sorry.

I had fun, though.

Where can I cash out?

Guys, I think we're
going up instead of down.

Guys?

Guys, this is not what I meant
by "cashing out"!

Hey!

Hey!

Hello.

Hey, Mulder, it's me.

What now?

Are you in Chicago?

Yes, I'm in Chicago.

I'm on the northeast corner
of 7th and Hunter,

just liked you asked.

Only, you're not here.

So where are you?

Oh, around.

Yeah.

Hey, nice outfit.

Hey.

What's down there?

Well, before you check out
down there, check out up there.

Top two floors are leased

to one Jimmy Cutrona,

whose name you might
be familiar with.

Organized crime.

The Bureau's been trying
to build a racketeering case

against him
for the past few years.

Gambling, extortion, murder.

Which is why last night
there were two agents

parked across the street
in surveillance.

They witnessed
a man being thrown

from Cutrona's roof
at 10:40 p.m.

This man fell 30 floors,
plus the distance

down this shaft,
because these doors

just happened to be open...

straight through,
nothing but net.

Ouch.

I'm guessing that's
what he said.

After he got up,
climbed out of here

and scampered off
into the night.

Mulder, you keep
saying "this man."

Who is this man?

No idea.
He got away.

The agents gave chase,
but no clear description.

Was this basement
thoroughly searched?

No.

Technically, falling 300 feet

and surviving isn't a crime.

And your theory is?

What if this man
had some kind of

special capability?

Some kind of genetic
predisposition

towards rapid healing
or tissue regeneration?

So, basically,
what if we were looking for

Wile E. Coyote?

You're saying that
he is invulnerable, right?

Uh...

You know, in 1998,
there was a British soldier

who plummeted 4,500 feet
when his parachute failed,

and he walked away
with a broken rib.

What's your point?

My point is that if there's

a wind gust,
or a sudden updraft,

and, plus, if he landed
in exactly the right way...

I mean, I don't know.

Maybe he just got lucky.

What if he got
really, really lucky?

That's your big scientific
explanation, Scully?

I mean, how many
thousands of variables

would have to convene
in just the right mixture

for that theory to hold water?

I don't know.

Well, thousands.

- Mulder?
- Yeah?

Look at this.

If this cart were
on the platform when he hit,

that would explain
the condition of these wheels.

And what if this whole thing

had just enough give
to save his life?

We'd have to find him to ask.

Yeah, we have to find him.

Looks like maybe
we found part of him already.

Think you're taking
a flier here, Mulder.

There's got to be
at least 600 people

with prosthetic eyes in
the greater Chicago area.

Yeah, but only
this one Henry Weems

made an appointment
this morning to get a new one.

Maybe he can't see
his way to the door.

Come on, Scully.

I'm feeling lucky.

Can you help me?

It's an emergency.

- Ma'am, we're not plumbers.
- I didn't say you were.

I just want
the damn water turned off

so that I can go to work.

Look, you got to be
stronger than me, right?

Valve's under the sink.

Your building super...
Henry Weems... he isn't around?

Mr. Dependable?
Might as well wait

for Jimmy Hoffa to show up.

You're turning it the wrong way.

Hey, Richie,
sweetheart, back in bed.

But, Mom...

"Buts" are for sitting,
and I want yours back in bed.

He's right.

Clockwise.

I know that.

Clockwise.

You okay, Mulder?

Yeah, it's all right.

My ass broke the fall.

Guess who I found.

Henry Weems, I presume?

Next time, leave the plumbing
to a professional.

Oh, uh...

Oh, um...

want to try this
on for size, Cinderella?

Mr. Weems,
why were you hiding

in a vacant apartment?

Not hiding... avoiding.

Avoiding whom?

You people.

Now that you found me,

let's just get it over with.

No way am I testifying

against Jimmy Cutrona.

Last night, Cutrona had you
thrown off the roof

of 1107 Hunter Avenue...
is that correct?

You didn't hear it from me.

I'm not letting you people

move me to Muncie, Indiana,
to milk cows.

More to the point,
you survived a, uh...

300-foot fall
essentially un... harmed.

I don't know.

Maybe... the wind
was just right,

and I landed on a bunch
of towels... no biggie.

You got lucky?

Yeah, I guess, except...

you should look at my bruise.

Oh.

Plus, I didn't get to
keep my poker winnings.

So that's
what you were doing there

last night... playing poker?

Cutrona thought I was cheating.

I wasn't.

But like I said,
you didn't hear it from me.

Must have been a high-
stakes game, I imagine.

Did you win a lot of money?

I don't know... a little.

What is that?

Did you make it?

Uh-huh.

Sort of a hobby.

Mm-hmm.

Mind if I...?

Ah.

That's craftsmanship.

What does it mean?

What do you mean,
"What does it mean?"

Yeah, what's-what's...

It doesn't mean anything.

I just sort of... I don't know.

It's cause and effect.

So, are-are we done here?

Mr. Weems, can I ask you

to reconsider testifying
against Cutrona?

Nope.

No way, Jose.

Well, it would be
in your best interest.

He's tried to kill you once,

and he will undoubtedly
do it again.

Yeah, we can protect you.

I'll take my chances.

So, here's the plan,
as I see it:

we inform the Chicago
field office about Weems,

leaving it to them
to secure his testimony,

you change your clothes,

we fly back to D.C. by sunset,
and all is right with the world.

Come on, Scully, you're
going to dump this case

just as it's getting
interesting.

"Interesting," Mulder,

was when we were looking
for Wile E. Coyote.

Come on, Mulder,
this guy just got lucky.

There's no X File here.

Maybe his luck is the X File.

Stairs.

Oh...

Car keys.

Must have lost them when I fell.

So, you get many of these?

So, uh, we've searched
the entire building,

and there's no sign
of Henry Weems.

I'm guessing
that he's on the run.

Our dead man's name
is Angelo Bellini,

aka Angie the Animal.

He's an enforcer for
the Cutrona family,

and I don't think
his visit was friendly.

You think that Weems could have
killed him in self-defense?

Skinny guy with
no depth perception

against a man nicknamed
"The Animal"?

I don't think so.

You and I both know Weems
didn't kill anybody.

Besides, we were just
gone for two minutes.

This guy doesn't have
a scratch on him.

I'm thinking it was
a heart attack.

What the hell
happened here, Mulder?

Cause and effect.

Meaning?

Okay, so... watch.

So Bellini kicks down
the door... wah!...

poised to kill Weems, right?

But just as he's about
to pull the trigger,

a noise startles him.

The buzzer...

when I buzzed to be let back in
the apartment.

So when he does pull the
trigger, his aim is off, right?

And he hits the lamp,
which falls over and knocks over

the ironing board,
so as the bullet ricochets,

Weems dives over the sofa.

Now, when Bellini goes for him,

he trips over the ironing board,

bounces off the chair,
flips end over end

and his shoelace gets caught
in the fan... QED.

Cause and effect.

Seemingly unrelated
and unconnected events

and occurrences that appear
unrelated and random beforehand,

but which seem to chain react
in Henry Weems's favor.

Dumb luck?

Yeah, he seems to have
tapped into it somehow.

He-he won big at poker,

he-he survived getting
thrown off a skyscraper,

and now this.

Hang on a second.

Okay.

Hey.

Your name's Richie, right?

- Yeah.
- I'm Dana.

Hi.

Why don't we, uh,
head back to your room?

I'm sure that's what
your mom would want.

So I'm guessing
you're a sports fan.

Which one's your favorite?

Well, it used to be basketball.

But now the Bulls suck,
so I think maybe baseball.

I like baseball, too.

Did Henry make this for you?

That's pretty neat.

Yeah.

He made it for me when
I was in the hospital.

He said... it's 'cause...

everything happens for a reason.

Only, just sometimes
it's hard for us to see.

You went to the hospital
because of your liver?

It doesn't work so good.

Police looking for Henry?

Yeah.

They just want to talk to him.

Do you have any idea
where he might have gone?

Mm-mm.

Since I got sick,
he hardly ever goes out.

Boy give you any leads?

He knows nothing.

Mulder, as to your theory...

Mm-hmm?

...why would the world's most
supernaturally lucky man

work as a building
superintendent?

I mean, why doesn't
he just run down

to the Illinois State Lottery,

enter, and, you know,
he'd win automatically?

How you feeling, pal?

I'm okay.

The police are looking
for you, though.

How come?

Uh... you know...

you do folks a favor,
wire the joint for free cable...

Don't worry about it.

You going to be okay by yourself
for a while?

Where you going?

Something I got to do
I've been putting off.

You get some rest.

That's it?

Got nothing else?

Okay. Thank you.

Henry Weems has no
police record, I assume?

He has no record of any kind,
Mulder.

He doesn't earn enough in a year
to file tax returns.

He has no savings account,
no checking account,

no insurance.

Doesn't even have a video
rental card, for that matter.

He doesn't even have
a driver's license.

I mean, it's like
he's intentionally

stayed off the radar.

He's retired from the world.

Ever since December 1989.

When a commuter jet
crashed into Lake Michigan

carrying 21 passengers.

- There was one survivor.
- Henry.

Yeah. That's how
he lost his eye.

Snowy night,

Christmas rush.

He'd been bumped
from three previous flights

before they finally found a seat
for him on that fateful plane.

Guess what seat number.

13?

On Flight 7.

More good luck, you're saying?

Call it good or bad, but maybe
that's where it all started.

What if a brand-new Henry Weems
was plucked from the wreckage?

One whose fortunes had been

irrevocably,
permanently changed?

Before 1989, Henry
held down a job

for nine years at a train yard,

but after the accident,
as you said,

it's like he just disappeared
off the face of the earth.

He severed ties
with all his friends

and moved out to Melrose Park.

Mulder, there are millions
of reasons for that,

including survivor's guilt.

I mean,
what doesn't track for me

is why Henry Weems
would drop off the map

just because he suddenly became
incredibly lucky.

What doesn't track for me is

why he's resurfaced
after all these years...

why he's suddenly decided
to use his luck in this way.

All right,
take care of yourself, brother.

Later.

Hey, what's the lottery up to?

$28 million.

I don't need that much.

You don't need that much.

How much do you need,
Rockefeller?

More like 100 grand.

Here goes. One dollar.

These suck.

Police have confirmed that

a Melrose Park
building superintendent

is wanted for questioning
in a case some sources term

an unusually vicious
gangland slaying.

You did it!

You won 100 grand!

Where do I collect the money?

Man, they'll mail it to you!

$8,200 a month for 12 months!

Yeah!

That's too long.

No, please.

I wouldn't do that.

Oh, baby.

Oh, sweet baby!

Anything in the trash can

is the store's property.

Yeah, right.
In your face.

No, just throw it away.

Something bad is
going to happen.

So long, suckers.

I did it! I won!

I won the lottery!

100 grand, fools!

100 grand!

On three.
One, two, three.

So, let me get this straight.

This is the man who
initially won the money?

Mm-hmm.

Mm-hmm. And once you
and he ascertained

that the accident
victim was still alive,

this man fled on foot?

Mm-hmm.

Okay. Afterwards, the man
who was hit by the truck

handed you the lottery
card, and said...

"Maurice, I want you
to have this."

Mm-hmm.

Thank you, Mr. Albert.

I think that will be all.

Thank you.

For such a fortunate man,

a lot of unfortunate things
happen in Henry Weems' wake.

Maybe that's part
of the package.

Can't have one
without the other.

So, Mulder, Henry
Weems came here

to buy a lottery ticket.

Why?

Maybe it's like you said.

Why wouldn't
the luckiest man in the world

enter the lottery?

Actually,
that's exactly what you said

about an hour after you said it.

Well, he's not in his place
and he's not with Richie.

You think he hid in there?

He doesn't hide, he avoids.

Pretty damn well, I'd say.

That thing must go
all over the building, Mulder.

I'll start with the roof,

if you want to start
with the basement.

Hey! Hey!

Watch the rough stuff.

Henry Weems,
you're a hard man to track down.

- I'm working here!
- Oh?

You and I are going
to have a talk.

You just sit right here
and don't move, okay?

Tough guy.

Oh, crap. Not again.

Let's get
him up to O.R. 40.

Coming through.
Excuse us.

Does it hurt?

Stings a bit.

But I'll live.

Come over here, Henry.

I want to try something.

What's that about?

I haven't a clue.

Nine of clubs.

You go.

What for?

I think you know.

Uh, you win.

Double or nothing.

Whoo-hoo! Tough to beat.

You win again.

Mulder, what does that prove?

Think it proves that
if we played this 10,000 times

in a row, he would win
10,000 times in a row.

He's incapable of losing.

How does it feel to be

the luckiest man
in the universe, Henry?

It's a nightmare.

You have no idea.

No, no, I do.

'Cause... 'cause when
you get lucky...

really, really lucky...

people around you
tend to suffer.

Is that right?

I think it's a balance thing.

Something good happens to me,

and everybody else has to
take it in the keister.

So you've stayed close to home
mostly, kept a low profile,

but recently you've been
venturing out a little further.

You played poker
with those mobsters.

I figured they could
stand the trimming.

Bunch of goombah jerks.

They got issues, man.

You don't mind so much

if a few criminals get hurt,

but then you went
and you played the lottery.

I knew
I shouldn't have done that.

I needed the money.

For what?

For Richie, right?

It's the complications
from his hepatitis.

He's on every donor
list they got,

but he's got a rare blood type...
B-negative.

And he's CN... something.

CMV negative. Cytomegalovirus.

There's no way they're going
to find a donor in time.

There's a treatment
program in England.

100 grand gets him in.

It's experimental,

but it's the best
chance he's got now.

Am I under arrest?

No.

However, you will need

protection from
Cutrona and his men.

I'd say they need
protection from me.

I'm sorry, Mulder.

That was utterly irresponsible.

You're feeding the
delusions of a man

who has had three attempts
made upon his life.

You're supposed
to be talking him

into protective
custody, not out of it.

I'd agree with you if I thought
his life was in danger.

As it is,
he's doing a better job

on Cutrona's organization
than the FBI.

I'm wondering if we shouldn't
make him an honorary agent.

Mulder, you're putting
an astounding amount of faith

in coincidence and luck.

Essentially, you're betting
a man's life on it.

And even if you believe
in so-called lucky streaks,

you have to know
they all eventually end.

Luckiest man in the world?

Hell, Mulder, I just beat him.

Mulder?

Come on, Scully.

Henry!

You're supposed to be resting.

I am resting.

Playing on the floor
doesn't count.

Don't you ever get tired
of this thing?

Henry said it's educational.

Yeah, well,
I don't want you believing

everything that Henry says.

Did you know the police
are looking for him?

Henry said it's no big deal.

When did you see...?

Mom, what's wrong?

How's he doing?

Well, he's got a bruised rib

and a black eye.

It certainly
could have been worse.

And don't tell me
he just got lucky.

Far from it.

Maybe what you said
about streaks is right.

Looks like his has just
about run its course.

I don't mean to make light
of his misfortune,

but it may have knocked
some sense into his head.

He's agreed to testify
against Cutrona.

What?

Our guy from the Justice
Department just called.

They're filing a federal warrant
this afternoon.

This mook Weems...

This mook Weems was street pizza
last I heard from you.

He was.

I don't know what it is.

Maybe he has
some special ability.

He's impervious or something.

Anyway, we can't get to him.

They got cops
all over the hospital.

Who says we have to get to him?

I want the toy
Henry made me, Mom.

Can you please go get it?

Uh, sure, honey.

We got to go.

All right, Richie,

I will bring it and
I will follow you there.

I will meet you
at the hospital, okay?

Mm.

Did you find her?

No.

You know Cutrona took her.

He did it to keep me
from testifying.

And he's who we're focused on,

but there's no sign
of a kidnapping,

there's no ransom note.

He's too smart for that.

Which makes it very hard for us

to obtain a search warrant.

We'll get one, though.

When?

Tomorrow?

Next week?

Could someone sit with him
at least?

Hold up, Henry.
Henry, what if...

what if what I said
before wasn't true?

That your luck hasn't changed?

Maybe all this is
happening for a reason.

So you're saying that Maggie
getting taken is a good thing?

No, I'm saying that what looks
like it might be bad luck

may not be bad luck,
but we can't tell yet.

We're not in that position.

We can't see the
forest for the trees.

How is he?

Not good.

If we don't find a donor
in the next few hours...

Scully, what if everybody
that becomes involved

in Henry Weems's life
somehow becomes

an integral part of his luck,
including you and I?

Mulder, you're speaking
as if we're all trapped

in one of those contraptions
that he builds.

What are you doing?

Looking for Maggie Lupone.

Luck is the overreaching
force in this investigation.

I say we roll with it.

Yeah, let's call that a dry run.

Yeah.

Look who came calling.

I wanted to tell you personally
that there's no hard feelings.

I'm not testifying against you.

Just let Maggie Lupone go.

"Maggie"?

I don't know anybody
named Maggie.

You know anybody named Maggie?

Fellas, don't jerk me around.

Jerk you around?

You tried to cheat me
out of a hundred large,

you kill Angie,
you put Sal in the hospital...

I'm jerking you around?

I apologize
for my choice of words.

Please, just let her go.

Her kid's really sick.

I don't care what happens to me.

You'll care.

By the time I'm finished,
you'll definitely care.

Henry?

Richie... how is he?

Not that one.

Use the small one.

Hey.

Henry...

Don't you hurt him,

you son of a bitch!

Shut her up.

Henry!

Ooh.

What are the odds for
Cutrona being a perfect match?

Thousand-to-one? Million-to-one?

Maybe higher.

Maybe everything
does happen for a reason...

...whether we see it or not.

Maybe your luck is changing.

Maybe.

I made this!