CSI
Bad Words

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

Given that McKinley High has already had issues with hammer-wielding killers, teenaged parent death trips, and bully problems, it's entirely possible that hazing -- especially that which involves hookers -- isn't even considered a problem. They're probably just grateful the players don't get all cannibal like the rival school's cheerleaders. Anyway, Sabrina broke the story (hilariously enough, the same two paragraphs are repeated ad infinitum, since the prop master went on the assumption that nobody would TiVo the frame and try to read it), and the three amigos conclude that maybe Sabrina's house was torched by the angry baseball boosters' club.

Gil is busy playing with the six tiles when Sara comes in to tell him that the lab results are in, and the blood on the bathroom floor matches Mr. 735, but the blood on the bathroom mirror does not. There goes the knocked-out-with-the-Heimlich hypothesis. Sara then asks what Gil's doing; he replies that he's doing anagrams. Ooh, I like doing those; I began doing them after reading Paula Danziger's The Divorce Express in fifth grade. Sara's all, "Do you think they're a message from the killer?" Yes. A very brief message. Anyway, Gil misses the most obvious combination from the letters E, I, N, S, V, and X: vixens. Sara points it out to him after musing, "Seven hundred and twenty possible combinations, not all of them words, of course." Damn, she's fast with the math. For those of you wondering how she came up with 720, it's simple series math: you can put any one of 6 tiles in the first slot, then 5 tiles in the second slot, then 4 tiles in the third slot, then 3 tiles in the fourth slot, then 2 tiles in the fifth slot, and the remaining tile in the last slot -- so, 6 * 5 * 4 * 3 * 2 * 1 = 720 possible combinations. After Sara points out to Gil what he missed -- both literally and metaphorically -- he looks…well, emotionally constipated. She, on the other hand, looks fabulous. Brass interrupts their moment to tell them he found an ID on Mr. 735 off his prints; he's one Adam Brenner. Sara's incredulous: "That guy has a record?" Whatever -- it's not like Brass came in and announced, "I matched his prints with a famous cat burglar's!" We find out Adam had prints because he was a postal worker from Orlando, and he was in town for a big ol' word-playing game tourney.

We cut to what looks like a Scrabble tournament, only with round tiles, no board, and the name "Logos." Sara and Gil are getting the 411 on Adam's mad Logos skillz from someone who mutters, "Logos has all the skill of chess combined with the cruel whimsy of fate." I bet you he reads a lot of Ezra Pound and listens to The Smiths in his spare time. This guy also explains that "Adam once set a tournament record by scoring 735 points in a single game." Sara recalls that the number was on Adam's tee, and the guy says, "Justifiably. It's a great achievement." Sara looks slightly taken aback. Brass steps in and asks how the other players felt about the sartorial smack-talk. The Logos nerd can't believe anyone who's playing would kill Adam; Brass shoots back, "Cruel whimsy of fate." At this point, I'm watching the show for Brass, y'all.

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CSI

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