The episode title is something of a misnomer – it’s actually more like Organ Blender (I know I know and obviously, I, too will sacrifice much in the service of a pun) (hence why my nail art blog is called Lacque to the Future). I only mention it because of the amazing ‘Will it Blend’ moment Nick gets to enjoy.
I’m sure it isn’t just me wondering why this regular kitchen blender has a place in the CSI laboratory, and harbouring dark suspicions about where the gang might have got it from… (waste not, want not!)
Anyway this is getting ahead of ourselves. Let’s whizz on back to the start of the episode, where a couple making out in a casino lift encounter a rather unwelcome third wheel.
Seems a little odd how he badly dressed himself before neatly arranging himself across the lift floor, huh?
Grissom: This is as phoney as a Chappaquiddick neck brace.
It’s bad that I had to Google that, right? Luckily I’m not the only one feeling baffled by Grissom’s esoteric vocabulary, as Nick and Sara are both baffled by his description of the corpse, Bob Fairmont’s, room as ‘murder central’.
Remember this moment! It will be of import next week (?). That is why I am harping on about it. (Oh, and murder central? It’s the room by the lift – easy access, easy escape, only one neighbour to hear you scream. Bear that in mind next time you visit your wayside inn of choice.)
Anyway turns out that Bob Fairmont’s wife is Bree from Desperate Housewives!
As the episode unfolds a murky plot emerges involving Bree, Fairmont’s dandruff-riddled secretary Claudia,
a bottle of shampoo and a previous DOUBLE LIFE with a secret wealthy husband whose parents were apparently called The John Gideon Sr.
Unfortunately it also proves to be one of those cases where the CSIs just can’t convict their guy (or girl) (or girls), leaving Sara extremely frustrated.
Grissom: Sometimes science isn’t enough.
Sara: What are we doing? Digging up graves, chasing prints – if it’s no good in court? If the killers win?
Grissom: It isn’t a competition. We don’t win. Courts are like dice. They have no memory. What works one week doesn’t work the next.
SOMETIMES SCIENCE ISN’T ENOUGH??! This is crazy talk.
Luckily Grissom has a cheery thought to finish off.
Grissom: The good news? There’s no statute of limitation on murder.
And it doesn’t say RSVP on the Statue of Liberty! Yeahhhh America. (I don’t know. Something about the phrasing brought Cher Horowitz to mind.)
It’s not just Grissom on bodacious form this episode – all the lovely CSI boys are in fine fettle. Of course, I’m mostly talking about Nick, who displays his usual all-round greatness not only in owning up to what he doesn’t know (*cough cough* Miss Sidle) but in charming the pants off (or rather, kidney out of) this round, sweaty little man.
Kidney Dude: You don’t look like a doctor.
Nick: No, sir, I’m Nick Stokes.
Always the tiny hope, isn’t there, when you wake up in the morning that that beauteous face could be gazing over you? Isn’t there? Isn’t there?
Aaaaanyway. Where were we? Kidney man does offer to give up his organ (ex-Bob Fairmont) for testing – but never fear, that’s not his kidney Nick was blending at the start of this post. That was The John Gideon’s descendant’s kidney, in fact. Taking the kidney of a living man would be an insufficiently noble act for Nicky to engage in.
Nick: I don’t think any investigation for the dead is worth hurting the living.
Of course he is. He’s so hot right always.
Meanwhile in other CSI news, Greg is (weirdly, unexpectedly) lusting after Sara, his affection for whom causes him to regress to adolescence as he keeps trying to plan a lunch break together. Of course, it’s only when he produces some killer evidence (obtained through the mystical medium of an Internet Search Engine) that he actually gets her attention.
Seems like Catherine was right.
Greg: Hey, Catherine: do you think Sara would ever go out with me?
Catherine: Sure! As long as you don’t tell her it’s a date.
Greg and Catherine will forever be my ultimate CSI ‘ship; but, as ever, Warrick and his rippling pecs are getting in the way.
Apart from exhibiting his body for all to enjoy, W-Brow also has an entertaining story to recount about one of his very first cases, a groinally-targeted shooting in which the very same Bob Fairmont was the victim.
Warrick: I think I fell for it because I was new, and I wasn’t too eager to talk to another guy about him almost shooting off his manhood.
The only thing better than a pun? A DOUBLE ENTENDRE! And speaking of puns I thought of an even better one for this episode title. ATTACK OF THE KILLER BREES!