Scully: “So, uh… I get this message marked “urgent” on my answering service from one Fox Mulder telling me to come down to the park for a very special very early or very late birthday present. And, Mulder… I don’t see any nicely wrapped presents lying around so what gives?”
Mulder: “You’ve never hit a baseball, have you, Scully?”
Scully: “No, I guess I have, uh… found more necessary things to do with my time than … slap a piece of horsehide with a stick.”
Mulder: “Get over here, Scully.”
Scully: “This my birthday present, Mulder? You shouldn’t have.”
Mulder: “This ain’t cheap. I’m paying that kid ten bucks an hour to shag balls. Hey, it’s not a bad piece of ash, huh? The bat-talking about the bat. Now, don’t strangle it. You just want to shake hands with it. “Hello, Mr. Bat. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” “Oh, no, no, Ms. Scully. The pleasure’s all mine.” Okay, now, we want to… we want to go hips before hands, okay? We want to stride forward and turn. That’s all we’re thinking about. So, we go hips… before hands, all right?”
Scully: “Okay.”
Mulder: “One more time. Hips… before hands, all right?”
Scully: “Yeah.”
Mulder: “What is it?”
Scully: “Hips before hands.”
Mulder: “Right. We’re going to wait on the pitch. We’re going to keep our eye on the ball. Then, we’re just going to make contact. We’re not going to think. We’re just going to let it fly, Scully, okay?”
Scully: “Mm-hmm.”
Mulder: “Ready?”
Scully: “I’m in the middle.”
Mulder: “All right, fire away. Ooh! That’s good. All right, what you may find is you concentrate on hitting that little ball… The rest of the world just fades away— all your everyday, nagging concerns. The ticking of your biological clock. How you probably couldn’t afford that nice, new suede coat on a G-Woman’s salary. How you threw away a promising career in medicine to hunt aliens with a crackpot, albeit brilliant, partner. Getting into the heart of a global conspiracy. Your obscenely overdue triple-X bill. Oh, I… I’m sorry, Scully. Those last two problems are mine, not yours.
Scully: “Shut up, Mulder. I’m playing baseball.”
