CSI
Bad Words

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Sobell: C+ | Grade It Now!
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A hot temper

And now Hodges gets quality time with Gil. You know he's highlighting this little block of time on his DayRunner, probably with a specially-colored highlighter. He explains that the fleck Gil picked out of the blood lo those many minutes ago is actually a mix of PVC resin and liquid plasticizer, and "when heated together, they form a solid elastomer film called Plastisol." For those of you who are all, "'Elastomer'?" Hodges is referring to a chemical phenomenon often featured for any resilient, stretchy compound: any of a number of natural or synthetic linear polymers that exhibit large elastic deformations when a force is applied; the stress necessary to deform an elastomer is relatively small compared to other materials, and the deformation is recoverable after the stressing force is removed. So now you have a fancy-pants way to say that something's stretchy.

Gil asks what Plastisol is used for, and Hodges replies, "Mostly [Liam the Lab Tech] wear." What, is this reply from personal experience? Actually, it's the gooey stuff that spells out a logo or slogan on a t-shirt. Gil sighs, "Well, that narrows it down to just about everybody in the tournament." Heh. Sara wanders in right then to dreamily inform Gil that she's got a match for the blood on the bathroom mirror.

Cut to the Walter Mitty guy sitting in an interrogation room and quaking over pictures of Adam's dead body. He points out, "Just because I was there doesn't mean I killed Adam." Brass asks the man to put his hands on the table, and after Sara registers the lacerated knuckles, she cracks, "That's seven years' bad luck." "More like seven to ten," Brass darkly corrects her. Walter explains that he's emotionally volatile, and after losing to a little old lady with a motormouth, he went into the men's bathroom and capped a self-hating monologue in the mirror by punching said mirror. Brass suggests that from there, it's but a hop, skip, and a jump to force-feeding someone killer Logos tiles, but Walter protests that even a losing match against Adam is "like getting art lessons from Picasso. I was honored to be even sitting at the same table with him." Sara and Brass look nonplussed at this.

Nicky tries to run a computer simulation of the fire, using the premise that the couch was the point of origin, but it doesn't match up to the actual fire.

Meanwhile, Warrick attempts to talk to Old Lady A and points out that they found traces of nicotine in her urine. "That's odd, because I don’t smoke," she replies. Warrick gently asks her to open her purse, and sees a pack at the top; Old Lady A seems as surprised as he, and says, "You know what? I do too smoke cigarettes."

In another interrogation room, Catherine's asking Mrs. A if Sabrina had ADHD. Mrs. A laughs and bitterly says that Sabrina had unbelievable focus. It's probably safe to say that Mrs. A's just entering the "anger" phase in grief. Pull up a chair, Jessica A. You'll be there a while. Catherine then breaks the news that Sabrina had Ritalin in her system, and may have been taking it as a stimulant. Mrs. A doesn't not take this too well: "Sabrina was taking drugs?" Catherine shoots back: "As were you. Valium." You know, there's no need for opprobrium if she's got a prescription, Catherine. Anyway, this sends us spiraling into the remorse and regret portion of events, where Mrs. A recounts, "Sabrina used to scream, 'I can't wait until I'm old enough to move out of here,' and I would scream back, 'Yeah, me either!' What kind of mother says that to her kid?" Catherine looks empathetic and replies, "One with a teenaged daughter. If I were to have a daughter, perhaps someday she'd be a teenager too. I can only imagine, apparently." Mrs. A continues that she had pictured this part of her life being one where she and the husband left the kids to fend for themselves on Saturday night while they went out for dinner, and instead, she's the overworked head of a household responsible for "two kids and a 70-year-old infant." Catherine finally addresses the elephant in the room with, "Are you covering for your mother?" Mrs. A replies, "Part of me just wants to say, 'Yes. Please take her away. Let her be the state's problem.' You know, she leaves the stove on, and she leaves the water running. I come home, and I find little burn marks in things. But I was with her the whole night. I never saw her smoke." Wow. Whoever wrote that monologue would appear to have been on that crazy ride. Kudos to the show for capturing the frustration that goes with being squeezed between children and parent like that.

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