MULDER: (looking sea sick) You're lucky you inherited your father's legs.
SCULLY: What?
MULDER: Sea legs.
MULDER: (looking about 60 or 70 years old) You know, I always thought when I got older, I'd maybe take a cruise somewhere. This isn't exactly what I had in mind ... The service on this ship is terrible, Scully. It's not fair ... It's not our time. We still have work to do ...
MULDER: I think I just lapped George Burns.
TRONDHEIM: It's a ghost ship. I mean, look at all this corrosion. No one's been on this ship in 20...30 years.
SCULLY: I looked everywhere. And this is all I could find ... It's sardine juice, half a dozen lemons and uh ... the water from a snow globe.
MULDER: Slurp. (licking his lips)
SCULLY: It's not Evian ...
SCULLY: (voiceover) Agent Fox Mulder lost conciousness at approximately 4:30 this morning, the 12th of March. There is nothing more I can do for him... or for myself. Supplies are exhausted - no food or liquid consumed for over 24 hours. The outer hull most probably flooded, though for now the inner hull is supporting the ship's mass. Among Halverson's belongings I found a children's book of Norse legends. From what I can tell, the pictures show the end of the world - not in a sudden firestorm of damnation as the Bible teaches us, but in a soft, covering blanket of snow. First the moon and the stars will be lost in a dense white fog, then the rivers and the lakes and the sea will freeze over. And finally, a wolf named Skall will open his jaws and eat the sun, sending the world into everlasting night...I think I hear the wolf at the door...
