Show: Bones - 5x9
Sucking fry oil from these seafood restaurants is the worst.
I don't mind the chicken places, but the seafood makes me sick.
Quit moaning and put the hose in.
Smells like shrimp!
Okay, suck it!
Hold it!
Hold it!
I got hair.
A lot!
It's gross.
Probably a rat.
Let's just open her up.
Pull it out.
Fishing is not a sport.
But monuments to sporting events in ancient Egypt include fishing, as well as swimming and wrestling.
Come on, no sweat, no sport.
Boris Spassky at chess.
He used to perspire profusely.
Why do you got to make things so complicated?
Basketball, football, hockey...
that's a sport.
Board games, fishing...
not a sport.
No problem going easy on the fried food after this one.
The International Olympic Committee is considering adding chess as a sport.
Not a sport.
See?
Not a sport.
Neither is, ribbon twirling, bridge or synchronized swimming.
Synchronized swimming...
that's not a sport, that's for sure.
God.
I'm in the middle of something, aren't I?
Look.
Dead guy.
Look at that.
The Colonel's not gonna like this one.
Male.
No sign of clothing.
All other stats still unknown.
He was found at the bottom of this grease receptacle by those lovely gentlemen over there.
The remains are covered in flesh.
Why am I here?
I don't know.
I told Booth.
God.
In the middle again.
I heard murder victim, in cooking oil, I thought, "Bones would love this one."
How long has guy been in there?
Tank hasn't been emptied in a couple weeks.
Two weeks.
I could be biking now.
An activity during which I perspire.
Daily addition of hot oil hastened decomposition and led to early hydration of body fat.
So he drowned, or maybe fried?
Billiards is considered a sport by the International Olympic Committee.
Bones, we're working here.
Not me.
Can we get the body out of the here, please?
Slowly, slowly...
Careful now...
Okay, careful.
Is the skin slipping?
The skin is slipping!
Oh, my...
Bones, look at that.
This is good for me.
Yeah.
Right?
You're kidding.
Avatar?
There were over 10,000 entries for 500 tickets.
And you won?
Good fortune!
If I thought that good fortune existed.
And you're taking us?
All friendship is fleeting and ends in abandonment.
So, why not spend a few good hours with you guys until it all falls apart?
Works for me.
Heck, yeah, it does.
Nice!
Avatar!
You guys do realize that being this excited about a sci-fi film will drastically cut down on the number of women that will sleep with us.
I'm into high double digits, sex-wise, so not worried.
You're closing in on a hundred women?
Mr.
Fisher, I'm ready.
Coming, Dr.
Brennan.
A hundred women?
That's...
that's a lot.
Yeah, yeah, hats off to the guy.
Compound depressed fracture to the temporal bone.
More hairline fractures on the femur, humerus and scapula.
And here on the right ilium.
There are puncture marks on the ilium, iliolumbar and sacroiliac.
So he was beaten and stabbed.
Somebody really went after this guy.
Those injuries didn't kill him.
There's grease in all levels of the bronchi, which means, our victim was alive when he was tossed into the vat.
Cause of death is drowning and cooking, or vice versa.
Saturated fats.
They're a killer.
Also...
Carboxyhemoglobin test shows our victim had a 17% carbon-monoxide level.
Triple the norm and double what even a heavy smoker would have.
He could've worked with cars, along a freeway, maybe a told Booth?
Let's review occupational markers.
Acute asymmetrical spinal subluxation, which, in life, would have been apparent in a pronounced leftward lean.
Chronic periosteal reaction with bone formation over the clavicle.
Constant pressure on his collarbone.
Remodeled bite marks on the tibia.
Probably canine.
Sounds like this guy spent most of his life carrying something heavy on his left shoulder while dodging dogs.
Together with the high levels of carbon monoxide, I posit that our victim was a mail carrier.
Someone went postal on this postman.
Bones - Season 05 Episode 09 "The Gamer in the Grease" Synchro: ShalimarFox, Dark_Chii Subtitle: A�S Team --==All-about-Subs.fr==-- Steve Rifton, 26-year-old mailman, reported missing by his wife 12 days ago.
You figured out he was a mailman, and guess what?
He's a mailman!
Why are you surprised?
It surprises me, it amazes me sometimes how you figure that stuff out.
He's a mailman.
You figured that out.
I'm good at my job.
Wait until you see what I got here.
Here...
Marked in red.
Right, is Steve Rifton's postal route.
And here...
Marked in black.
Is the grease truck route.
See what I've done here?
Obviously, you've created a geographic Venn diagram.
Incorrect.
What I've shown here is they've overlapped in the same area.
You need to Google Venn diagram.
You know, lonely housewife, husband away on a business trip.
Bow-chicka wow-wow.
What's bow-chicka wow-wow?
You know, A-boom-clicka-mow-mow.
It's a very common porno plot theme, which, in real life is jealous husband stuffing, you know, horny mailmen into grease traps.
Who's that?
Victim's wife.
Well, are we going to tell her about the clacka-mow-boom?
No, it's bow-chicka wow-wow.
Boom-clacka mow-mow.
It's so unfair.
All those years of effort, Steve finally gets somewhere, and then gets killed.
Who'd want your husband dead?
You know who Steve is, right?
I mean was.
A postman.
A mailman.
That was Steve's job, his vocation.
His avocation was gaming.
He was a professional gambler?
Video gaming.
He became the reigning world champ in Punky Pong after he got a perfect score.
It was on the news.
Did he have any enemies?
Sure.
The thousands of people he beat out for the world title.
It's a very competitive sport.
Agent Booth would never accept Punky Pong as a sport.
Did your husband have any trouble at work?
Steve was never going to be Postmaster General, that's for sure.
He had a very high IQ, you know how those people can be.
Very absent-minded.
I don't think that's true at all.
Sometimes it was tough to get his attention, but he was a good man.
Please find whoever hurt him.
Does Dr.
Brennan know you're soaking the body in beer?
Yeast speeds up the putrefaction process.
It's the kinder, gentler way of removing the last vestiges of flesh and cartilage from the skeleton.
Is that beer?
Beats being scraped or eaten by beetles.
Technically, his remaining cells will be very drunk before he ceases to exist.
So, how long's this thing take to marinate?
Few hours.
Good.
Both of you, come with me.
Okay, I am no longer able to discern special effects from live action.
This is 2D.
3D's gonna blow your mind.
One of us needs to be in line right now.
We're up against freaks and fanatics for the best seats.
To defeat them, we must become freaks and fanatics.
All right, I've cleared most of my days, but I am a mental health professional with responsibilities.
Between me and Hodgins, we'll have the forensics covered.
What's with the blue people?
The Nav'i.
I beg your pardon?
Denizens of a lush planet called Pandora.
You boys are not allowed to watch movies on my monitor.
This is so much more than a movie.
Yeah, I mean, we're sorry, but the screen is so big.
You get porn on this thing?
Get out.
Out!
All right, I'll take the first shift, you guys cover me.
Everyone e-mail me your projected availabilities, I'll set up a schedule.
Our mailman had a clean record, except for complaints from this guy Seeger.
Right.
Seeger claims that he trespassed and was acting creepy around his son.
Protecting the well-being of your kid seems like a good reason to kill.
I'm not saying that I approve.
I just saying, I understand.
This is probably the child who got creeped on by the victim.
Hello?
Excuse me?
Hello?
Hi.
I'm Agent Booth.
I'm with the FBI.
Show him your gun.
Kids love guns.
Let me handle this.
Can I help you?
Yeah, Agent Booth, the FBI.
We're here to talk to you about the, mailman incident.
That was 3 months ago.
Right, and what was the problem?
Problem was, I come out, the guy is here, staring at my son.
Dougie...
is autistic.
He can't watch out for himself in that way.
He's very focused on this game.
Punky Pong.
Dougie plays it most of the day.
We take it away, he shuts...
shuts down.
So...
someone else complain about the mailman?
That why the FBI's involved?
Look, you're aware that this mailman was the Punky Pong world champion?
You got to be kidding me.
That's why he was checking out Dougie?
He should have said something.
He just took off.
That's why I made the complaint.
If I...
If I was out of line, I'll apologize.
Punky Pong is kind of an old school game, but it takes a lot of skill.
There are a lot of message boards and Web sites dedicated to it, even today, but I found something on one of them that...
How many people play?
Thousands.
They put out a retro version on modern platforms like Xbox, and it's having this whole resurgence.
But what I found...
Why do they only allow world records to be attained on a vintage machine?
Well, I guess the purists like it old school.
But, I think you need to see...
Are there many of those machines?
Because the autistic boy had one.
I think around 20,000 were made and there are probably about 1,500 that are still in existence.
I think this is something that you really need to see.
This is Billy Gabel.
He was the Punky Pong world champion before our murder victim claimed the throne.
I am still the rightful champion.
The manner in which Steve Rifton stole my crown is shameful.
I will not put up with this.
Steve Rifton, I am the rightful and eternal world champion and you are dead!
Angela, you should have shown me this first.
Well...
I am still the rightful champion.
I will not leave this alone.
Steve Rifton, I am the rightful and eternal world champion and you are dead!
Okay, so video games provide the outlet for aggression that more physically taxing sports also provide.
Come on, video games are not a sport.
Well, technically, they are, sport being a competitive activity governed by a set of rules...
Dr.
Brennan is correct.
Right, so you actually think that this geek is capable of murder because some guy beat his high score?
If one's instincts are deeply rooted in the status that they've enjoyed from the game, and someone takes that away...
They would just be another geek lining up to see a space movie.
No, it's not just another space movie.
It's a symbol-laden alternate reality with...
So...
this guy was the recognized champion for nearly ten years.
Right?
If he feels that his notoriety was stolen, he might take revenge.
Sorry.
This is Dr.
Lance Sweets.
Fisher just called from the movie line.
He's got to get back to the lab, so you have to relieve him because I can't.
I understand.
That's a fascinating case.
I'm needed for a consult.
We're through here, right?
You're coming with us to see if this geek is actually psycho or not, pal.
So I'm afraid you're going to have to take care of the patient on your own, at this juncture, now.
Sweets, I'm knee-deep in larvae and dicotyledons here.
I'm sorry, Doctor.
Bye now.
Sweets, don't...
This is it; this is all I got so far.
Please tell me these all crawled into the Dumpster after the oil was removed from the restaurant.
They had antemortem burns, which means they flew into while it was cooking.
It's easy to diet around here.
So I assumed that the fragment of the cricket exoskeleton from the skull wound had migrated from the grease, but definitely uncooked, so my 3 mysterious particulates were all transferred from the weapon.
Exoskeleton is from the Gryllidae family, probably a nocturnal cricket, the graminoid seed is from a fescue grass, and I thought the silk-like fiber was from a tetrapod, but what kind is indeterminate at this point.
You're talking really fast.
Are you late for something?
Why?
Do you want me to go through it all again more slowly?
No, that's okay.
Do you know where the cricket and the grass came from?
North America.
Great.
So Asia is out.
I'm still analyzing what was in the water where the fescue grew, but, you know, I can check that against specific water districts and narrow down the location further...
Great.
Have you seen Fisher?
No, no, but I'll go find him.
That's not necessary.
He'll turn up.
But, the mass spec is doing it's thing and the computer...
really checks all the districts, so I'm on autopilot here for at least the next two hours, and we know Fisher, how depressed he gets, I'll go find him.
FBI.
You Pong Master Bill?
That's right.
We're here about the threats you made against Steve Rifton on the Internet.
That guy cheated.
I don't believe he played a perfect game.
I want my title back.
Is this how you make a living, repairing vintage arcade games?
It's a skill.
I know why he called you.
Because he knows what he did was wrong.
He's dead, murdered.
What?
Did you kill him?
These are very complex devices and it appears you have to machine many of the parts yourself.
If I was going to kill somebody, it would be The Ref.
He's the one that accepted Steve's crappy videotape as evidence of a perfect game.
And this ref's name is...?
Chris Ballinger.
He heads the Gemini Constellation, the organization that decides on world records for Punky Pong.
Right after Ref declared Steve world champion, they went into business together.
What kind of business?
Going out on tours, signing autographs.
The way I hear it, the Ref has hooked up with some babe and now he's doing better than ever.
Maybe he killed Rifton.
Excuse me.
There you are.
You got to get going.
Cam's looking for you.
I got to set this tent up.
This is good.
This is really good positioning, man.
Not bad.
You might want to step back.
Look out!
You do this often?
You got to come prepared.
Fresh Meat Tarts and a box of wine.
Have at it.
Nice.
Are you out of breath, Mr.
Fisher?
No, I'm, I'm just thankful I'm breathing, you know.
Never know when that luxury will end.
So I examined the...
marks on the pelvis.
They were made by...
a hollow, rigid weapon, 9.4 millimeters in diameter Was the same weapon used on the victim's skull?
That seems unlikely because the cranial injury was made by a blunt instrument, that left a 12-centimeter fracture right there.
Any guess as to what it could be?
Not at all, no, but I did scrape what looks like metal shavings from both the cranial fracture and the...
stab wounds on the pelvis.
Maybe Hodgins can find a match.
Very good, Mr.
Fisher.
Right, I've always been a multitasker.
Multitasker?
What would be splitting your focus?
The head and the pelvis completely separate parts of the body.
Right.
Did Hodgins come back with you?
'Cause I haven't seen him.
Yeah, he should be out there.
I got to get back to work here, but he's check the men's room.
Or don't.
Good luck.
There is some excellent hand-eye coordination here.
This is an activity that could definitely be considered a sport.
Yeah, there's an intense competitive edge, skill...
stamina.
For something to be a sport, there has to be some chance of injury.
Okay, guys?
That man dressed in traditional stripes could be The Ref.
Not that kind of ref, okay?
FBI.
What can I do for the FBI?
We'd like to ask you a few questions about Steve Rifton.
Well, I've got a few myself.
The guy just disappeared on me.
We had a business deal and he left me high and dry.
FBI, what, he wasn't kidnapped, was he?
He's dead, which is probably why he didn't keep his business commitment.
He's dead.
Man.
Yes!
Take that, Steve Rifton!
I am the reigning empress of Punky Pong.
She must be the babe who replaced Steve.
You didn't waste any time, did you?
I had business commitments with Steve.
I had to move quickly or I was going to lose a ton of dough.
What's up, Chris?
These people are with the FBI.
Plus, gamers are predominantly male, so a lot more are going to turn out to see her compete, right?
Sexist twerp, it's not about looks, it's about ability.
Steve is dead, Deirdre.
We are suspects, so you don't say a thing to them.
The front of this machine has been scrubbed.
What do you got?
Blood.
Okay, that's it.
The machine is coming with us.
It's part of a Federal investigation.
Did you sign this check, Mr.
Ballinger?
It's made out to Steve Rifton.
$12,000-- that's a lot of money for an old arcade machine.
Steve not only got the world record in Punky Pong on that very machine, he got a perfect score.
What that machine is there, is a piece of gaming history.
Serious gamers will drop 50 bucks a pop to play on a unique piece of equipment like that...
100 if he was standing beside it.
That is a conflict of interest...
You decide if Rifton gets the world record and you profit from it.
You've been talking to Billy Gabel?
We got a tape proving that Steve Rifton won fair and square.
Am I right?
That's how we do it.
If you guys want it for verification...
Fine...
I'll hand it over.
Can you explain the blood on the machine?
Kids play the game.
They get anxious, hyper even.
Sometimes their noses bleed.
Sometimes they put a little sauce into it and they bash their heads.
Either way, I'm cleaning blood off the floor every day.
We had a business plan.
Why would I kill him?
I don't know, maybe he reneges, you take exception.
Heat of the moment, an accident.
I'm not like that.
Ask anybody.
What I am like is a guy who's smart enough to ask for a lawyer.
No problem.
What's with the formalwear?
Little light reading you got there.
What are you, like a first-year psychology student or something?
Sort of...
not first-year, though.
I'm Lance.
Very phallic name you got there.
My name's Payne.
And if your name's as accurate as mine, then we should get better acquainted.
Well, that's...
I have a girlfriend, I'm sorry.
So, I have a boyfriend, but he's not coming to this movie.
Is your girlfriend?
We're just talking, right?
All be it somewhat suggestively.
So, I'll change the subject.
Do you like my tattoos?
Very much.
I've always enjoyed calligraphy.
What is that, ten centimeters in length?
Twelve.
One of us needs to relieve Sweets.
I got to write a report up on this.
There's a lip here.
I'm thinking a smooth, rounded edge.
Sweets said he had an appointment he can't miss.
Follow me on this.
The mailman is delivering his package to the lady of the house, if you catch my drift, the husband comes home, finds the nearest blunt instrument, which is a cast iron frying pan.
And wham!
The postman who rang twice never rang again.
That totally works.
If the husband is a peacock wrangler who fights crickets after work in a Creeping Red Fescue field.
Peacock?
What I thought was silk turns out to be the thread from the after-feather of a peacock.
Your particulates always ruining the day for me.
I'm gonna go relieve Sweets.
If anyone asks, tell them I'm....
defligisterizing Tachymosis Franklangellacum.
Is that a real thing?
Or are you just trying to be funny?
'Cause that didn't sound real.
At all.
This is Steve Rifton's winning tape.
How many times have you watched this?
I'm not watching it.
I'm analyzing it.
And?
Uninterrupted control track, which means no tampering.
The only thing you seeis the game playing.
No hands, no audio, just the screen.
For three hours.
This perfect game has been downloaded and watched hundreds of thousands of times by expert gaming eyes.
Not one anal-retentive, detail-oriented, paranoid geek is calling foul, so...
Can I see the last part?
The last stage of the game is called the "kill screen."
Three hours of his life to get to this point.
Flipping the monkey.
Wait...
can you play that again?
What do you see?
The injuries the monkey suffers are the same as the victim's.
Oh, my God.
Sometimes I taste salt in my mouth when there isn't any.
What mental illness do I have?
Do you taste salt now?
You tell me.
Who's your friend?
This is Tory Payne.
This is Jack Hodgins.
I'm sorry, I should have called you.
There's a sudden opening in my schedule.
This doesn't have anything to do with Fisher's double digits?
Of course not.
That is not this situation.
You need anything, just call me.
No, I'm good.
We're good.
Salt.
Did the blood come from our victim?
It seems to have come from a number of people, and it's been totally degraded by a liquid.
What liquid?
Mostly cola.
Here's the mikrosil cast of the wound, Dr.
Brennan.
I don't see any protuberances on the machine that correspond to the shape of the wound.
Also, no sign of crickets, grass seed or peacock feathers.
The particulates Dr.
Hodgins found.
Those particulates were found in the head wound?
Is there anything on this machine that could explain the groin wound?
There's an access panel at groin level.
I don't see anything.
Shall I get an ALS?
I don't see how something could pop out of there, stab our victim and then withdraw again.
Are you all right?
That was dumb.
I just jammed my hand against the bottom of the control stick.
The dimensions and the shape are very similar to the marks on the victim's pelvis.
This isn't long enough to pass through the abdominal wall and the intestines.
Billy Gabel had a whole supply of this piping at his workshop.
Uncut.
Hey, Pong Boy.
Now what?
Get your hands off everything.
Got a search warrant.
Are you guys following me?
Some babe, Billy?
You knew her all along.
I'm not allowed to fix my game?
Billy's the only one with first-generation Qbert parts.
It seems to me that you two had reason to get rid of Steve.
I didn't have to kill him.
I got a nice rack, a cute ass, and can wipe out anyone at Punky Pong.
Right, except for Steve, which is why you two teamed up.
She's just here for parts.
These are the types of piping congruent with the wounds on Fisher's hand and the victim's groin.
Pipe.
Okay, bag that.
Bag the pipe.
An actual shrink.
That is so so hot.
But you know my profession doesn't really preclude me from my fascination with sci-fi and fantasy.
Really?
Does this tent zipper have a lock on it?
There's no kind of privacy here...
Gosh, you really have fleet fingers.
I've got a girlfriend.
Yeah, so you said.
That shouldn't have happened.
Why did that happen?
I know, it's like that one scene in Mimic where you're in a hot kiss one minute, and then the next, you're getting your brain sucked out by a mutant.
I'm sorry, I got to make a call.
Would it help you get over this whole girlfriend thing if maybe you saw my tattoos again?
Where are you guys?
I need backup.
You told me to get lost, so now, I got to test the tensile strength of the...
Please, I need to be released.
Relieved.
Please.
Sorry, Doctor.
Oh, and save me a Meat Tart.
Bye now!
That was...
Emergency, family emergency.
This could be an anomaly of the scaphoid.
Magnify that, please.
Looks like resorption.
What could have caused that?
A cyst.
The victim had De Quervain's tenosynovitis...
a painful condition caused by extreme stress on the wrist.
Which means?
Billy Gabel was correct.
Steve Rifton must have cheated.
On the date the videotape was made, he would not be capable of playing the game.
Brennan found five types of piping of the same dimensions...
Aluminum, brass, steel, stainless steel and copper.
I'm testing to see if any of them shatter under pressure.
Well, so far, they just bend.
Tensile strength is 760 megapascals.
So far, I've tried torsion, impact, and got nothing more than bending and denting.
So, the pelvic injuries couldn't have been caused by the piping we found in Billy's workshop.
I'm tattooed on your arm.
We're looking for a more brittle substance.
Ange, it's not what you think.
What I think is that there's a very large tattoo of me that's indelibly affixed to your skin.
I'm going to flee right now.
I didn't do it.
Wait a minute.
My dad?
My father did that to you?
Let's just say, I think he was trying to prove a point.
I am so going to kick his Texan bad ass.
You...
You need to get that removed.
Why?
Because we are not together anymore, and I don't want you sweating all over my face, and I-I...
You need to get that lasered.
Why are you avoiding me?
Doctor, it's just sex.
I know, it's just the combination of Meat Tarts and boxed wine has gotten me a little queasy.
Sorry.
You okay?
Yeah, I'm fine.
Everything's fine.
This is Fisher.
Are you a shrink, too?
Forensic anthropologist.
He works with the dead.
The dead?
Really?
What can I say?
I can relate to the boundary between this existence and whatever screaming, cold hell comes next.
Do you want to see my tattoos?
I love that poem.
I analyzed the game's chip.
Since the programming is from the '80s, it's pretty basic, but still...
One would certainly need to be in command of their rapid cycling beta level, as well as being exceptionally dexterous.
Which, according to you, Steve Rifton was not.
The computer has played a perfect game.
So, this is the second time that this machine was played to the perfect game.
The first time was Steve Rifton's perfect game.
If Steve Rifton played a perfect game, he had to have done it before he developed tenosynovitis.
That makes sense.
Can you pull up the videotape showing this perfect game?
Could you freeze it, please?
What do you see?
These are not the same machine.
Sweetie, these look identical.
No, see here?
This banana has exposed central and lateral incisors as well as a white section of peeled epicarp.
The teeth and the peel?
Who would notice that?
Me.
I'm extraordinarily observant.
So, this is the same machine that was in the photo.
But not the same one as in the videotape.
See?
No incisors and yellow epicarp section.
Steve Rifton cheated.
He didn't play the winning game on this machine.
What other machine do you think he had access to?
Dougie Seeger's.
The autistic boy.
This is Dougie's machine.
This is the one that The Ref bought from our murder victim.
We have photographic evidence that our victim actually played a perfect game on his own machine.
Maybe the photo there is doctored?
Angela says no.
Who wants to know about peacock poop?
Not the greatest opening, but...
I was looking at this thing all wrong.
I kept asking myself, how do feathers, graminoid seeds, and insect legs get onto the same blunt weapon?
That is exactly the question we need answered.
Sometimes peacock feathers are in peacock poop because they preen themselves.
The Indian Blue Peacock, to be precise.
The murder weapon was dipped in Indian Blue Peacock excrement.
Pavo cristatus.
Why would the murderer dip his weapon into peacock excrement?
What if he didn't do it on purpose?
Check this out.
The only two places with Indian Blue Peacock are the United States Botanic Gardens and the Annapolis Valley Golf Course.
The murder weapon could have been a golf club.
That would also explain the crickets and fescue.
Let's see which one of our suspects golfs at Annapolis Valley.
Who deserves a little love here, huh?
A little love?
Just a...
If that's all, I've really gotta go.
King of the Lab!
Why are you standing over here?
What?
So, he pitched his tent when you didn't?
If by "pitch his tent," you mean...
That's what he did.
It's not a toy!
He said that in the short amount time that I've been with Daisy, he pitched his tent with seven women.
Yeah, but, come on.
Fisher, he only ever pitches his tent once with each woman.
You...
you're the kind of guy, you don't just pitch a tent, you homestead the land.
So he's the rock star and I'm the farmer?
That's great.
Sweets, let's do the math here, okay?
Fisher's seven women versus your one Daisy.
Seven one-night stands, let's give him the benefit of the doubt, and say that he's had sex, what?
21 times.
Now, rough estimate...
how many times have you and Daisy pitched a tent?
Daisy and I are together approximately five nights a week, so that's ten times a week, over seven months, you add in the mornings...
Silent math.
You got a number?
Don't...
tell me.
Is it more than 21?
It's way more than 21.
Quality of the experience...
it's much more important than the quantity.
Everybody get your tickets out!
We are going in.
Everybody step in!
Should we tell Fisher we're going in?
Screw him.
But he's going to miss the movie.
Serves him right.
If you were in my shoes, you would've gone for it, wouldn't you?
You kidding me?
Did you see those tattoos?
Oh, epic.
Oh!
There we go!
Why do you want my golf clubs?
I mean, you're a member of Annapolis Valley, right?
For three years.
My golf clubs are in here somewhere.
I don't get out there as much as I'd like.
Dougie stands there, waiting for his machine.
I'd like to get it back as soon as possible.
You're very cooperative.
Graphite shafts.
These would snap.
We're looking for a broken shaft.
It would explain the stabbing wound.
Any of them damaged?
None of these is the murder weapon.
You think I killed the postman?
Why would I do that?
Perhaps it's a coincidence that Mr.
Seeger is a member of that golf.
Perhaps we should check out the possibilities at the Botanic Garden.
Where's your three iron?
Never needed one.
What...
three iron?
A course like Annapolis...
you would definitely need a three iron.
So, where is it?
My son only ever had one thing.
One thing his whole life.
Dougie can't even speak.
Do you understand?
He looks at me or my wife, there's no glimmer of recognition.
But that machine...
It turns on, makes that noise.
And he gets this look on his face.
Maybe you wouldn't notice it in a regular kid, but I know what it is.
It's joy.
And this guy, this-this mailman, he watches Dougie play a perfect game.
And then, next thing you know, he's on TV, saying he played the perfect game.
It's a miracle.
That's too much of a coincidence for me.
You accosted him with your own golf club.
You scared him into telling the truth.
He admitted it.
He said he videotaped Dougie.
But he refused to credit Dougie.
I lost it.
You beat him...
with your golf club and when the head broke off, you stabbed him with it.
The only thing my boy has in this world...
one thing...
this man stole it from him.
It wasn't right.
It's not as crazy as you think.
I'm a father, so I sort of understand.
I can't imagine you killing someone for stealing credit from Parker.
Not kill someone, but...
threaten 'em.
Even about something as frivolous as bragging rights to a video game?
All right, how-how do we choose who goes first?
Go ahead, you go first.
Why?
Because once I start I ain't going to stop.
Besides, it's not how the dad feels, it's how the son feels.
We're discussing the murder again?
Someone breaks your kid's heart, your own heart rises up, gets fierce.
Just a natural response.
There's a flaw in your reasoning.
I believe that due to my superior learning curve, I can beat you at this game, despite your superlative strength and your remarkable reflexes.
How-How do start the game?
What's the flaw in my reasoning?
Dougie Seeger is autistic.
He didn't care.
His heart wasn't broken.
So the dad loved him twice as much.
You don't like the reasoning of my math.
I've realized recently that you use a different number system.
Like the Babylonians, which was base 60.
I don't understand your system, but I can see that it works.
How do I start the game?
Here you go.
A quarter.
Knock 'em dead.
I will.
I will knock you dead.
I will prove you wrong!
Big words.
Level one, baby.
What happened?
My turn.
It's not your turn.
What do you mean?
It just stopped.
Step aside.
Go sit.
I didn't lose.
You put the quarter in, the game's over...
Subtitle: A�S Team --==All-about-Subs.fr==--
I don't mind the chicken places, but the seafood makes me sick.
Quit moaning and put the hose in.
Smells like shrimp!
Okay, suck it!
Hold it!
Hold it!
I got hair.
A lot!
It's gross.
Probably a rat.
Let's just open her up.
Pull it out.
Fishing is not a sport.
But monuments to sporting events in ancient Egypt include fishing, as well as swimming and wrestling.
Come on, no sweat, no sport.
Boris Spassky at chess.
He used to perspire profusely.
Why do you got to make things so complicated?
Basketball, football, hockey...
that's a sport.
Board games, fishing...
not a sport.
No problem going easy on the fried food after this one.
The International Olympic Committee is considering adding chess as a sport.
Not a sport.
See?
Not a sport.
Neither is, ribbon twirling, bridge or synchronized swimming.
Synchronized swimming...
that's not a sport, that's for sure.
God.
I'm in the middle of something, aren't I?
Look.
Dead guy.
Look at that.
The Colonel's not gonna like this one.
Male.
No sign of clothing.
All other stats still unknown.
He was found at the bottom of this grease receptacle by those lovely gentlemen over there.
The remains are covered in flesh.
Why am I here?
I don't know.
I told Booth.
God.
In the middle again.
I heard murder victim, in cooking oil, I thought, "Bones would love this one."
How long has guy been in there?
Tank hasn't been emptied in a couple weeks.
Two weeks.
I could be biking now.
An activity during which I perspire.
Daily addition of hot oil hastened decomposition and led to early hydration of body fat.
So he drowned, or maybe fried?
Billiards is considered a sport by the International Olympic Committee.
Bones, we're working here.
Not me.
Can we get the body out of the here, please?
Slowly, slowly...
Careful now...
Okay, careful.
Is the skin slipping?
The skin is slipping!
Oh, my...
Bones, look at that.
This is good for me.
Yeah.
Right?
You're kidding.
Avatar?
There were over 10,000 entries for 500 tickets.
And you won?
Good fortune!
If I thought that good fortune existed.
And you're taking us?
All friendship is fleeting and ends in abandonment.
So, why not spend a few good hours with you guys until it all falls apart?
Works for me.
Heck, yeah, it does.
Nice!
Avatar!
You guys do realize that being this excited about a sci-fi film will drastically cut down on the number of women that will sleep with us.
I'm into high double digits, sex-wise, so not worried.
You're closing in on a hundred women?
Mr.
Fisher, I'm ready.
Coming, Dr.
Brennan.
A hundred women?
That's...
that's a lot.
Yeah, yeah, hats off to the guy.
Compound depressed fracture to the temporal bone.
More hairline fractures on the femur, humerus and scapula.
And here on the right ilium.
There are puncture marks on the ilium, iliolumbar and sacroiliac.
So he was beaten and stabbed.
Somebody really went after this guy.
Those injuries didn't kill him.
There's grease in all levels of the bronchi, which means, our victim was alive when he was tossed into the vat.
Cause of death is drowning and cooking, or vice versa.
Saturated fats.
They're a killer.
Also...
Carboxyhemoglobin test shows our victim had a 17% carbon-monoxide level.
Triple the norm and double what even a heavy smoker would have.
He could've worked with cars, along a freeway, maybe a told Booth?
Let's review occupational markers.
Acute asymmetrical spinal subluxation, which, in life, would have been apparent in a pronounced leftward lean.
Chronic periosteal reaction with bone formation over the clavicle.
Constant pressure on his collarbone.
Remodeled bite marks on the tibia.
Probably canine.
Sounds like this guy spent most of his life carrying something heavy on his left shoulder while dodging dogs.
Together with the high levels of carbon monoxide, I posit that our victim was a mail carrier.
Someone went postal on this postman.
Bones - Season 05 Episode 09 "The Gamer in the Grease" Synchro: ShalimarFox, Dark_Chii Subtitle: A�S Team --==All-about-Subs.fr==-- Steve Rifton, 26-year-old mailman, reported missing by his wife 12 days ago.
You figured out he was a mailman, and guess what?
He's a mailman!
Why are you surprised?
It surprises me, it amazes me sometimes how you figure that stuff out.
He's a mailman.
You figured that out.
I'm good at my job.
Wait until you see what I got here.
Here...
Marked in red.
Right, is Steve Rifton's postal route.
And here...
Marked in black.
Is the grease truck route.
See what I've done here?
Obviously, you've created a geographic Venn diagram.
Incorrect.
What I've shown here is they've overlapped in the same area.
You need to Google Venn diagram.
You know, lonely housewife, husband away on a business trip.
Bow-chicka wow-wow.
What's bow-chicka wow-wow?
You know, A-boom-clicka-mow-mow.
It's a very common porno plot theme, which, in real life is jealous husband stuffing, you know, horny mailmen into grease traps.
Who's that?
Victim's wife.
Well, are we going to tell her about the clacka-mow-boom?
No, it's bow-chicka wow-wow.
Boom-clacka mow-mow.
It's so unfair.
All those years of effort, Steve finally gets somewhere, and then gets killed.
Who'd want your husband dead?
You know who Steve is, right?
I mean was.
A postman.
A mailman.
That was Steve's job, his vocation.
His avocation was gaming.
He was a professional gambler?
Video gaming.
He became the reigning world champ in Punky Pong after he got a perfect score.
It was on the news.
Did he have any enemies?
Sure.
The thousands of people he beat out for the world title.
It's a very competitive sport.
Agent Booth would never accept Punky Pong as a sport.
Did your husband have any trouble at work?
Steve was never going to be Postmaster General, that's for sure.
He had a very high IQ, you know how those people can be.
Very absent-minded.
I don't think that's true at all.
Sometimes it was tough to get his attention, but he was a good man.
Please find whoever hurt him.
Does Dr.
Brennan know you're soaking the body in beer?
Yeast speeds up the putrefaction process.
It's the kinder, gentler way of removing the last vestiges of flesh and cartilage from the skeleton.
Is that beer?
Beats being scraped or eaten by beetles.
Technically, his remaining cells will be very drunk before he ceases to exist.
So, how long's this thing take to marinate?
Few hours.
Good.
Both of you, come with me.
Okay, I am no longer able to discern special effects from live action.
This is 2D.
3D's gonna blow your mind.
One of us needs to be in line right now.
We're up against freaks and fanatics for the best seats.
To defeat them, we must become freaks and fanatics.
All right, I've cleared most of my days, but I am a mental health professional with responsibilities.
Between me and Hodgins, we'll have the forensics covered.
What's with the blue people?
The Nav'i.
I beg your pardon?
Denizens of a lush planet called Pandora.
You boys are not allowed to watch movies on my monitor.
This is so much more than a movie.
Yeah, I mean, we're sorry, but the screen is so big.
You get porn on this thing?
Get out.
Out!
All right, I'll take the first shift, you guys cover me.
Everyone e-mail me your projected availabilities, I'll set up a schedule.
Our mailman had a clean record, except for complaints from this guy Seeger.
Right.
Seeger claims that he trespassed and was acting creepy around his son.
Protecting the well-being of your kid seems like a good reason to kill.
I'm not saying that I approve.
I just saying, I understand.
This is probably the child who got creeped on by the victim.
Hello?
Excuse me?
Hello?
Hi.
I'm Agent Booth.
I'm with the FBI.
Show him your gun.
Kids love guns.
Let me handle this.
Can I help you?
Yeah, Agent Booth, the FBI.
We're here to talk to you about the, mailman incident.
That was 3 months ago.
Right, and what was the problem?
Problem was, I come out, the guy is here, staring at my son.
Dougie...
is autistic.
He can't watch out for himself in that way.
He's very focused on this game.
Punky Pong.
Dougie plays it most of the day.
We take it away, he shuts...
shuts down.
So...
someone else complain about the mailman?
That why the FBI's involved?
Look, you're aware that this mailman was the Punky Pong world champion?
You got to be kidding me.
That's why he was checking out Dougie?
He should have said something.
He just took off.
That's why I made the complaint.
If I...
If I was out of line, I'll apologize.
Punky Pong is kind of an old school game, but it takes a lot of skill.
There are a lot of message boards and Web sites dedicated to it, even today, but I found something on one of them that...
How many people play?
Thousands.
They put out a retro version on modern platforms like Xbox, and it's having this whole resurgence.
But what I found...
Why do they only allow world records to be attained on a vintage machine?
Well, I guess the purists like it old school.
But, I think you need to see...
Are there many of those machines?
Because the autistic boy had one.
I think around 20,000 were made and there are probably about 1,500 that are still in existence.
I think this is something that you really need to see.
This is Billy Gabel.
He was the Punky Pong world champion before our murder victim claimed the throne.
I am still the rightful champion.
The manner in which Steve Rifton stole my crown is shameful.
I will not put up with this.
Steve Rifton, I am the rightful and eternal world champion and you are dead!
Angela, you should have shown me this first.
Well...
I am still the rightful champion.
I will not leave this alone.
Steve Rifton, I am the rightful and eternal world champion and you are dead!
Okay, so video games provide the outlet for aggression that more physically taxing sports also provide.
Come on, video games are not a sport.
Well, technically, they are, sport being a competitive activity governed by a set of rules...
Dr.
Brennan is correct.
Right, so you actually think that this geek is capable of murder because some guy beat his high score?
If one's instincts are deeply rooted in the status that they've enjoyed from the game, and someone takes that away...
They would just be another geek lining up to see a space movie.
No, it's not just another space movie.
It's a symbol-laden alternate reality with...
So...
this guy was the recognized champion for nearly ten years.
Right?
If he feels that his notoriety was stolen, he might take revenge.
Sorry.
This is Dr.
Lance Sweets.
Fisher just called from the movie line.
He's got to get back to the lab, so you have to relieve him because I can't.
I understand.
That's a fascinating case.
I'm needed for a consult.
We're through here, right?
You're coming with us to see if this geek is actually psycho or not, pal.
So I'm afraid you're going to have to take care of the patient on your own, at this juncture, now.
Sweets, I'm knee-deep in larvae and dicotyledons here.
I'm sorry, Doctor.
Bye now.
Sweets, don't...
This is it; this is all I got so far.
Please tell me these all crawled into the Dumpster after the oil was removed from the restaurant.
They had antemortem burns, which means they flew into while it was cooking.
It's easy to diet around here.
So I assumed that the fragment of the cricket exoskeleton from the skull wound had migrated from the grease, but definitely uncooked, so my 3 mysterious particulates were all transferred from the weapon.
Exoskeleton is from the Gryllidae family, probably a nocturnal cricket, the graminoid seed is from a fescue grass, and I thought the silk-like fiber was from a tetrapod, but what kind is indeterminate at this point.
You're talking really fast.
Are you late for something?
Why?
Do you want me to go through it all again more slowly?
No, that's okay.
Do you know where the cricket and the grass came from?
North America.
Great.
So Asia is out.
I'm still analyzing what was in the water where the fescue grew, but, you know, I can check that against specific water districts and narrow down the location further...
Great.
Have you seen Fisher?
No, no, but I'll go find him.
That's not necessary.
He'll turn up.
But, the mass spec is doing it's thing and the computer...
really checks all the districts, so I'm on autopilot here for at least the next two hours, and we know Fisher, how depressed he gets, I'll go find him.
FBI.
You Pong Master Bill?
That's right.
We're here about the threats you made against Steve Rifton on the Internet.
That guy cheated.
I don't believe he played a perfect game.
I want my title back.
Is this how you make a living, repairing vintage arcade games?
It's a skill.
I know why he called you.
Because he knows what he did was wrong.
He's dead, murdered.
What?
Did you kill him?
These are very complex devices and it appears you have to machine many of the parts yourself.
If I was going to kill somebody, it would be The Ref.
He's the one that accepted Steve's crappy videotape as evidence of a perfect game.
And this ref's name is...?
Chris Ballinger.
He heads the Gemini Constellation, the organization that decides on world records for Punky Pong.
Right after Ref declared Steve world champion, they went into business together.
What kind of business?
Going out on tours, signing autographs.
The way I hear it, the Ref has hooked up with some babe and now he's doing better than ever.
Maybe he killed Rifton.
Excuse me.
There you are.
You got to get going.
Cam's looking for you.
I got to set this tent up.
This is good.
This is really good positioning, man.
Not bad.
You might want to step back.
Look out!
You do this often?
You got to come prepared.
Fresh Meat Tarts and a box of wine.
Have at it.
Nice.
Are you out of breath, Mr.
Fisher?
No, I'm, I'm just thankful I'm breathing, you know.
Never know when that luxury will end.
So I examined the...
marks on the pelvis.
They were made by...
a hollow, rigid weapon, 9.4 millimeters in diameter Was the same weapon used on the victim's skull?
That seems unlikely because the cranial injury was made by a blunt instrument, that left a 12-centimeter fracture right there.
Any guess as to what it could be?
Not at all, no, but I did scrape what looks like metal shavings from both the cranial fracture and the...
stab wounds on the pelvis.
Maybe Hodgins can find a match.
Very good, Mr.
Fisher.
Right, I've always been a multitasker.
Multitasker?
What would be splitting your focus?
The head and the pelvis completely separate parts of the body.
Right.
Did Hodgins come back with you?
'Cause I haven't seen him.
Yeah, he should be out there.
I got to get back to work here, but he's check the men's room.
Or don't.
Good luck.
There is some excellent hand-eye coordination here.
This is an activity that could definitely be considered a sport.
Yeah, there's an intense competitive edge, skill...
stamina.
For something to be a sport, there has to be some chance of injury.
Okay, guys?
That man dressed in traditional stripes could be The Ref.
Not that kind of ref, okay?
FBI.
What can I do for the FBI?
We'd like to ask you a few questions about Steve Rifton.
Well, I've got a few myself.
The guy just disappeared on me.
We had a business deal and he left me high and dry.
FBI, what, he wasn't kidnapped, was he?
He's dead, which is probably why he didn't keep his business commitment.
He's dead.
Man.
Yes!
Take that, Steve Rifton!
I am the reigning empress of Punky Pong.
She must be the babe who replaced Steve.
You didn't waste any time, did you?
I had business commitments with Steve.
I had to move quickly or I was going to lose a ton of dough.
What's up, Chris?
These people are with the FBI.
Plus, gamers are predominantly male, so a lot more are going to turn out to see her compete, right?
Sexist twerp, it's not about looks, it's about ability.
Steve is dead, Deirdre.
We are suspects, so you don't say a thing to them.
The front of this machine has been scrubbed.
What do you got?
Blood.
Okay, that's it.
The machine is coming with us.
It's part of a Federal investigation.
Did you sign this check, Mr.
Ballinger?
It's made out to Steve Rifton.
$12,000-- that's a lot of money for an old arcade machine.
Steve not only got the world record in Punky Pong on that very machine, he got a perfect score.
What that machine is there, is a piece of gaming history.
Serious gamers will drop 50 bucks a pop to play on a unique piece of equipment like that...
100 if he was standing beside it.
That is a conflict of interest...
You decide if Rifton gets the world record and you profit from it.
You've been talking to Billy Gabel?
We got a tape proving that Steve Rifton won fair and square.
Am I right?
That's how we do it.
If you guys want it for verification...
Fine...
I'll hand it over.
Can you explain the blood on the machine?
Kids play the game.
They get anxious, hyper even.
Sometimes their noses bleed.
Sometimes they put a little sauce into it and they bash their heads.
Either way, I'm cleaning blood off the floor every day.
We had a business plan.
Why would I kill him?
I don't know, maybe he reneges, you take exception.
Heat of the moment, an accident.
I'm not like that.
Ask anybody.
What I am like is a guy who's smart enough to ask for a lawyer.
No problem.
What's with the formalwear?
Little light reading you got there.
What are you, like a first-year psychology student or something?
Sort of...
not first-year, though.
I'm Lance.
Very phallic name you got there.
My name's Payne.
And if your name's as accurate as mine, then we should get better acquainted.
Well, that's...
I have a girlfriend, I'm sorry.
So, I have a boyfriend, but he's not coming to this movie.
Is your girlfriend?
We're just talking, right?
All be it somewhat suggestively.
So, I'll change the subject.
Do you like my tattoos?
Very much.
I've always enjoyed calligraphy.
What is that, ten centimeters in length?
Twelve.
One of us needs to relieve Sweets.
I got to write a report up on this.
There's a lip here.
I'm thinking a smooth, rounded edge.
Sweets said he had an appointment he can't miss.
Follow me on this.
The mailman is delivering his package to the lady of the house, if you catch my drift, the husband comes home, finds the nearest blunt instrument, which is a cast iron frying pan.
And wham!
The postman who rang twice never rang again.
That totally works.
If the husband is a peacock wrangler who fights crickets after work in a Creeping Red Fescue field.
Peacock?
What I thought was silk turns out to be the thread from the after-feather of a peacock.
Your particulates always ruining the day for me.
I'm gonna go relieve Sweets.
If anyone asks, tell them I'm....
defligisterizing Tachymosis Franklangellacum.
Is that a real thing?
Or are you just trying to be funny?
'Cause that didn't sound real.
At all.
This is Steve Rifton's winning tape.
How many times have you watched this?
I'm not watching it.
I'm analyzing it.
And?
Uninterrupted control track, which means no tampering.
The only thing you seeis the game playing.
No hands, no audio, just the screen.
For three hours.
This perfect game has been downloaded and watched hundreds of thousands of times by expert gaming eyes.
Not one anal-retentive, detail-oriented, paranoid geek is calling foul, so...
Can I see the last part?
The last stage of the game is called the "kill screen."
Three hours of his life to get to this point.
Flipping the monkey.
Wait...
can you play that again?
What do you see?
The injuries the monkey suffers are the same as the victim's.
Oh, my God.
Sometimes I taste salt in my mouth when there isn't any.
What mental illness do I have?
Do you taste salt now?
You tell me.
Who's your friend?
This is Tory Payne.
This is Jack Hodgins.
I'm sorry, I should have called you.
There's a sudden opening in my schedule.
This doesn't have anything to do with Fisher's double digits?
Of course not.
That is not this situation.
You need anything, just call me.
No, I'm good.
We're good.
Salt.
Did the blood come from our victim?
It seems to have come from a number of people, and it's been totally degraded by a liquid.
What liquid?
Mostly cola.
Here's the mikrosil cast of the wound, Dr.
Brennan.
I don't see any protuberances on the machine that correspond to the shape of the wound.
Also, no sign of crickets, grass seed or peacock feathers.
The particulates Dr.
Hodgins found.
Those particulates were found in the head wound?
Is there anything on this machine that could explain the groin wound?
There's an access panel at groin level.
I don't see anything.
Shall I get an ALS?
I don't see how something could pop out of there, stab our victim and then withdraw again.
Are you all right?
That was dumb.
I just jammed my hand against the bottom of the control stick.
The dimensions and the shape are very similar to the marks on the victim's pelvis.
This isn't long enough to pass through the abdominal wall and the intestines.
Billy Gabel had a whole supply of this piping at his workshop.
Uncut.
Hey, Pong Boy.
Now what?
Get your hands off everything.
Got a search warrant.
Are you guys following me?
Some babe, Billy?
You knew her all along.
I'm not allowed to fix my game?
Billy's the only one with first-generation Qbert parts.
It seems to me that you two had reason to get rid of Steve.
I didn't have to kill him.
I got a nice rack, a cute ass, and can wipe out anyone at Punky Pong.
Right, except for Steve, which is why you two teamed up.
She's just here for parts.
These are the types of piping congruent with the wounds on Fisher's hand and the victim's groin.
Pipe.
Okay, bag that.
Bag the pipe.
An actual shrink.
That is so so hot.
But you know my profession doesn't really preclude me from my fascination with sci-fi and fantasy.
Really?
Does this tent zipper have a lock on it?
There's no kind of privacy here...
Gosh, you really have fleet fingers.
I've got a girlfriend.
Yeah, so you said.
That shouldn't have happened.
Why did that happen?
I know, it's like that one scene in Mimic where you're in a hot kiss one minute, and then the next, you're getting your brain sucked out by a mutant.
I'm sorry, I got to make a call.
Would it help you get over this whole girlfriend thing if maybe you saw my tattoos again?
Where are you guys?
I need backup.
You told me to get lost, so now, I got to test the tensile strength of the...
Please, I need to be released.
Relieved.
Please.
Sorry, Doctor.
Oh, and save me a Meat Tart.
Bye now!
That was...
Emergency, family emergency.
This could be an anomaly of the scaphoid.
Magnify that, please.
Looks like resorption.
What could have caused that?
A cyst.
The victim had De Quervain's tenosynovitis...
a painful condition caused by extreme stress on the wrist.
Which means?
Billy Gabel was correct.
Steve Rifton must have cheated.
On the date the videotape was made, he would not be capable of playing the game.
Brennan found five types of piping of the same dimensions...
Aluminum, brass, steel, stainless steel and copper.
I'm testing to see if any of them shatter under pressure.
Well, so far, they just bend.
Tensile strength is 760 megapascals.
So far, I've tried torsion, impact, and got nothing more than bending and denting.
So, the pelvic injuries couldn't have been caused by the piping we found in Billy's workshop.
I'm tattooed on your arm.
We're looking for a more brittle substance.
Ange, it's not what you think.
What I think is that there's a very large tattoo of me that's indelibly affixed to your skin.
I'm going to flee right now.
I didn't do it.
Wait a minute.
My dad?
My father did that to you?
Let's just say, I think he was trying to prove a point.
I am so going to kick his Texan bad ass.
You...
You need to get that removed.
Why?
Because we are not together anymore, and I don't want you sweating all over my face, and I-I...
You need to get that lasered.
Why are you avoiding me?
Doctor, it's just sex.
I know, it's just the combination of Meat Tarts and boxed wine has gotten me a little queasy.
Sorry.
You okay?
Yeah, I'm fine.
Everything's fine.
This is Fisher.
Are you a shrink, too?
Forensic anthropologist.
He works with the dead.
The dead?
Really?
What can I say?
I can relate to the boundary between this existence and whatever screaming, cold hell comes next.
Do you want to see my tattoos?
I love that poem.
I analyzed the game's chip.
Since the programming is from the '80s, it's pretty basic, but still...
One would certainly need to be in command of their rapid cycling beta level, as well as being exceptionally dexterous.
Which, according to you, Steve Rifton was not.
The computer has played a perfect game.
So, this is the second time that this machine was played to the perfect game.
The first time was Steve Rifton's perfect game.
If Steve Rifton played a perfect game, he had to have done it before he developed tenosynovitis.
That makes sense.
Can you pull up the videotape showing this perfect game?
Could you freeze it, please?
What do you see?
These are not the same machine.
Sweetie, these look identical.
No, see here?
This banana has exposed central and lateral incisors as well as a white section of peeled epicarp.
The teeth and the peel?
Who would notice that?
Me.
I'm extraordinarily observant.
So, this is the same machine that was in the photo.
But not the same one as in the videotape.
See?
No incisors and yellow epicarp section.
Steve Rifton cheated.
He didn't play the winning game on this machine.
What other machine do you think he had access to?
Dougie Seeger's.
The autistic boy.
This is Dougie's machine.
This is the one that The Ref bought from our murder victim.
We have photographic evidence that our victim actually played a perfect game on his own machine.
Maybe the photo there is doctored?
Angela says no.
Who wants to know about peacock poop?
Not the greatest opening, but...
I was looking at this thing all wrong.
I kept asking myself, how do feathers, graminoid seeds, and insect legs get onto the same blunt weapon?
That is exactly the question we need answered.
Sometimes peacock feathers are in peacock poop because they preen themselves.
The Indian Blue Peacock, to be precise.
The murder weapon was dipped in Indian Blue Peacock excrement.
Pavo cristatus.
Why would the murderer dip his weapon into peacock excrement?
What if he didn't do it on purpose?
Check this out.
The only two places with Indian Blue Peacock are the United States Botanic Gardens and the Annapolis Valley Golf Course.
The murder weapon could have been a golf club.
That would also explain the crickets and fescue.
Let's see which one of our suspects golfs at Annapolis Valley.
Who deserves a little love here, huh?
A little love?
Just a...
If that's all, I've really gotta go.
King of the Lab!
Why are you standing over here?
What?
So, he pitched his tent when you didn't?
If by "pitch his tent," you mean...
That's what he did.
It's not a toy!
He said that in the short amount time that I've been with Daisy, he pitched his tent with seven women.
Yeah, but, come on.
Fisher, he only ever pitches his tent once with each woman.
You...
you're the kind of guy, you don't just pitch a tent, you homestead the land.
So he's the rock star and I'm the farmer?
That's great.
Sweets, let's do the math here, okay?
Fisher's seven women versus your one Daisy.
Seven one-night stands, let's give him the benefit of the doubt, and say that he's had sex, what?
21 times.
Now, rough estimate...
how many times have you and Daisy pitched a tent?
Daisy and I are together approximately five nights a week, so that's ten times a week, over seven months, you add in the mornings...
Silent math.
You got a number?
Don't...
tell me.
Is it more than 21?
It's way more than 21.
Quality of the experience...
it's much more important than the quantity.
Everybody get your tickets out!
We are going in.
Everybody step in!
Should we tell Fisher we're going in?
Screw him.
But he's going to miss the movie.
Serves him right.
If you were in my shoes, you would've gone for it, wouldn't you?
You kidding me?
Did you see those tattoos?
Oh, epic.
Oh!
There we go!
Why do you want my golf clubs?
I mean, you're a member of Annapolis Valley, right?
For three years.
My golf clubs are in here somewhere.
I don't get out there as much as I'd like.
Dougie stands there, waiting for his machine.
I'd like to get it back as soon as possible.
You're very cooperative.
Graphite shafts.
These would snap.
We're looking for a broken shaft.
It would explain the stabbing wound.
Any of them damaged?
None of these is the murder weapon.
You think I killed the postman?
Why would I do that?
Perhaps it's a coincidence that Mr.
Seeger is a member of that golf.
Perhaps we should check out the possibilities at the Botanic Garden.
Where's your three iron?
Never needed one.
What...
three iron?
A course like Annapolis...
you would definitely need a three iron.
So, where is it?
My son only ever had one thing.
One thing his whole life.
Dougie can't even speak.
Do you understand?
He looks at me or my wife, there's no glimmer of recognition.
But that machine...
It turns on, makes that noise.
And he gets this look on his face.
Maybe you wouldn't notice it in a regular kid, but I know what it is.
It's joy.
And this guy, this-this mailman, he watches Dougie play a perfect game.
And then, next thing you know, he's on TV, saying he played the perfect game.
It's a miracle.
That's too much of a coincidence for me.
You accosted him with your own golf club.
You scared him into telling the truth.
He admitted it.
He said he videotaped Dougie.
But he refused to credit Dougie.
I lost it.
You beat him...
with your golf club and when the head broke off, you stabbed him with it.
The only thing my boy has in this world...
one thing...
this man stole it from him.
It wasn't right.
It's not as crazy as you think.
I'm a father, so I sort of understand.
I can't imagine you killing someone for stealing credit from Parker.
Not kill someone, but...
threaten 'em.
Even about something as frivolous as bragging rights to a video game?
All right, how-how do we choose who goes first?
Go ahead, you go first.
Why?
Because once I start I ain't going to stop.
Besides, it's not how the dad feels, it's how the son feels.
We're discussing the murder again?
Someone breaks your kid's heart, your own heart rises up, gets fierce.
Just a natural response.
There's a flaw in your reasoning.
I believe that due to my superior learning curve, I can beat you at this game, despite your superlative strength and your remarkable reflexes.
How-How do start the game?
What's the flaw in my reasoning?
Dougie Seeger is autistic.
He didn't care.
His heart wasn't broken.
So the dad loved him twice as much.
You don't like the reasoning of my math.
I've realized recently that you use a different number system.
Like the Babylonians, which was base 60.
I don't understand your system, but I can see that it works.
How do I start the game?
Here you go.
A quarter.
Knock 'em dead.
I will.
I will knock you dead.
I will prove you wrong!
Big words.
Level one, baby.
What happened?
My turn.
It's not your turn.
What do you mean?
It just stopped.
Step aside.
Go sit.
I didn't lose.
You put the quarter in, the game's over...
Subtitle: A�S Team --==All-about-Subs.fr==--