THE MAGGOTS IN THE MEATHEAD
(OPEN: Nighttime. MAN on a beach with a metal detector.)
MAN: Come on...come on... (metal detector beeps) Oh! (picks up a coin) Oh yeah, that's the stuff. (puts coin in pocket and moves to find more; metal detector beeps again) Oh! (bends down and picks up a metal cross attached to a chain; tugs at the cross to reveal a skeleton head filled with maggots buried under the sand) Oh no. Christ. (looks around, then pulls the cross from the skeleton's neck, breaking the chain) (laughs)
(CUT TO: SPECIAL AGENT SEELEY BOOTH and HANNAH BURLEY sprawled over each other presumably after s*x, panting.)
HANNAH: Is it me, or are we louder stateside?
BOOTH: There are no bombs to drown out, alright?
(They kiss. They are interrupted by Hannah's ringing phone on the bedside table.)
BOOTH: Are you serious? Its 3AM!
HANNAH (gets up to look at her phone): It's my boss.
BOOTH: Your boss? Oh.
HANNAH (answers phone): Hannah here, and annoyed, it's the middle of the night. At seven? That's only a few hours away. (Booth kisses the back of her knee) Do they have my name at the gate? Okay, thanks. (hangs up and gets dressed)
BOOTH (moves behind her): Alright, what's going on? (kisses her on the cheek)
HANNAH: Breakfast at the White House.
HANNAH: Only five of us were invited so...maybe I can get some real questions answered. (kisses him on the cheek)
BOOTH: Breakfast at 4AM?
HANNAH: ...but I have to change. These are the only clothes that I have here.
HANNAH: Gotta go. (they kiss)
BOOTH (in between kisses): You gotta go? Right this second? (groans)
HANNAH: Bye, see you tonight. (dashes off)
(BOOTH flops on the bed. His phone rings.)
BOOTH: Seriously? You gotta be kidding me. (rolls over to answer his phone)
(CUT TO: A beach, where BOOTH and DR. TEMPERANCE BRENNAN are walking at a crime scene)
BOOTH: Look, why can't they find these victims at a reasonable time of the day, huh? (looks at the water) Ah, just look at that. Look how beautiful it is, Bones. Wouldn't it be great to come to work every day at the beach?
BRENNAN: Booth, the sand and the salty air would make research and accurate forensic analysis impossible.
(They walk towards DR. CAMILLE SAROYAN, who is bent over a body)
CAM: Victim's decomposing at an accelerated rate.
BRENNAN: Could the acceleration be the result of something chemical or radiological? (bends down to look at the body)
CAM: No sign of radioactivity and no chemical that I'm aware of that would cause catastrophic cellular necrosis.
(Camera pans to the body where jumping maggots are visible)
BOOTH: Whoa, what's going on with the maggots? They're like freaky happy.
CAM: Yeah, and they're everywhere.
BOOTH (sees a maggot crawling on the leg of his pants): Whoa! Okay, maggot, right on the leg, right there...can I squash him or does Hodgins have to interrogate him?
BRENNAN: I'll get him. (picks up the maggot with forceps and puts it on a test tube)
CAM: Dr. Brennan, can you help me lift the victim...gently?
BRENNAN (moves to help Cam; to Booth): Where are you going?
BOOTH: Uh, you know, ID'ing the victim takes forever, I'm gonna go get a cup of coffee. (starts walking away)
CAM (looks at driver's license on wallet): Richard Dominic Genaro. (Booth turns back) Born September 25th 1986, 6'2", 195 pounds. (looks at Booth)
BOOTH: Or you could just check to see if he has a wallet.
BRENNAN: Decomposition is accelerating perhaps because of the sunlight.
BOOTH: Okay, so what have we got here, huh? Vampire from New Jersey?
CAM: Before we answer that, I'd like to get him back to the lab.
(They look at the skull, where the remaining tissue is slowly peeling off)
BRENNAN: We better do it quickly.
(CUT TO: Medico-Legal Lab; Autopsy Room. DR. CAMILLE SAROYAN and COLIN FISHER heave the plastic-covered body on an examination table with a member of the Jeffersonian staff)
CAM: On three...one, two, three!
CAM (to Fisher): You're...stronger than you look.
FISHER: Why, thank you, Dr. Saroyan. And I appreciate your effort to help me feel comfortable at work after my stint at the loony bin.
CAM: Are you being sarcastic?
FISHER: No. It's hard to tell, isn't it?
CAM: Are you being sarcastic now?
FISHER: My, my shrink told me that sarcasm is not earnest communication and that I should try to live joyously and genuinely in every moment.
(HODGINS enters. CAM opens the plastic covering the body. Worms start jumping from the body.)
HODGINS (enters): Whoa...okay, okay, everybody move, or just, just freeze. Wow. Piophila casei. More commonly known as cheese skippers. Under certain circumstances, they jump up, they grab their butts with their mouths.
FISHER: I met a guy at the hospital that could do that.
HODGINS: Yeah? They have them hopped up on stimulants? 'Cause that's what's causing this.
CAM: We'll screen for amphetamines, Ecstasy, cocaine...
(Chest area of the body suddenly deflates)
FISHER: Oh. That might account for the rapid decomposition.
CAM: This was one big muscly guy, he had only four percent body fat.
HODGINS: Really? Geez, how much did he weigh?
FISHER: 89 kilos.
HODGINS: Really? This dude was shredded.
FISHER: Tooth veneers over the central and lateral incisors...this guy must have had a brilliant engaging smile.
HODGINS: Yeah, I'm sure he lived joyously in the moment. (Cam gives him a look) Um, no, we're, we're really really happy that you, you didn't kill yourself.
FISHER: Oh, I was never suicidal. What happened was I slept 20 hours a day for two months. My shrink said it was a warning sign.
CAM: Sounds great to me.
FISHER: There's a depression fracture of the cranial vortex. No sign of remodeling.
CAM: Smashed on top of the head?
FISHER: Guess I'd better map these microfractures. Which will be a satisfying and productive use of my training and abilities.
(CUT TO: Angela's Office, where ANGELA MONTENEGRO and BRENNAN are watching a guy's exercise video on the Angelatron)
ANGELA (pauses the video): Okay, this one here is our victim, Ritchie the V.
BRENNAN: I assume he's called Ritchie the V due to his body shape.
(Angela nods and plays the video)
RITCHIE: What up, this is Ritchie the V. Today, you're gonna learn how to get my signature V, baby. (gestures at his abs) Boom! Boom!
FRANKIE COSTELLO (walks to Ritchie): Oh, Ritchie the V! (bumps shoulders with Ritchie) What's going on?
ANGELA: Okay, so this one is L'il Frankie Costello. He's in most of his videos.
BRENNAN: These are what are known as guidos.
ANGELA: Yeah, sweetie, I don't think they actually like to be called that.
BRENNAN: But they do. That's what they call themselves. Although interestingly not all guidos are of Italian descent.
BRENNAN: While the styles and mannerisms are based on Italian-American tropes, the guidos can be of any ethnic background. They gather at the Jersey Shore. The male bonding is near homoerotic. The friends or "bros" are more important to them than family.
ANGELA: Right. And how do you know all of this?
BRENNAN: I stumbled across a compelling documentary about them. The anthropologist in me was fascinated, I've been studying their language and customs.
ANGELA: A documentary?
BRENNAN: Yes, on television.
ANGELA (laughs): Sweetie, just because it's called reality television doesn't mean that it's a documentary.
BRENNAN: I-I'm quite certain you are incorrect about that.
(CUT TO: FBI Building; Booth's Office where BOOTH is talking to JANINE GENARO, the victim's mother)
JANINE: You sure it's my Ritchie?
BOOTH: Yes ma'am.
JANINE (crosses herself tearfully): Madonna mia.
BOOTH: The autopsy also shows that he may have been assaulted...uh, knocked on the head.
JANINE: Who did this to my Ritchie? You tell me that right now.
BOOTH: Can you think of anyone that would wanna hurt your son?
JANINE: No. Agent Booth, I cannot think of anyone who would wanna hurt my Ritchie. Not anyone. And if I could think of such an anyone, I would go out there and I would kill them myself before they ever got anywhere near my kid!
BOOTH: Any reason for him to be in trouble?
JANINE: What kind of trouble?
BOOTH: Girlfriends, uh, fighting?
JANINE: No, nothing like that. And, and any trouble he ever did get into was at the urge of that L'il Frankie 321.
BOOTH: L'il Frankie 321...does he have a last name?
JANINE: Yeah, Costello. Ralphie's boy. Any trouble my Ritchie ever got into, it was because of that L'il Frankie.
BOOTH: What kind of trouble?
JANINE: Oh, they both got kicked off the high school football team for using steroids. At the urge of that L'il Frankie just like I said, but I tell you what...I put the fear of God into my kid and he stopped. I didn't go through 44 hours of labor so my kid could grow up and stick poison in his body.
BOOTH: And you're sure he stopped?
JANINE: Yes, I am.
BOOTH: How is that?
JANINE: Because he told me. Ritchie never lied to me. Not twice anyway.
BOOTH: When was the last time you saw your little Ritchie?
JANINE: About a month ago, with L'il Frankie, uh, down at the Shore. They were sharing a house. (Booth offers her his handkerchief; she waves him off) Ritchie was very serious about school, and he said it was going to be his last summer to party. And I guess he was right. Agent Booth, if it turns out it was that L'il Frankie that did this... (slams hand on table) ...you bring him here to me.
(CUT TO: Jeffersonian; Brennan's Office, BRENNAN's phone rings)
BRENNAN (answers phone): This is Dr. Brennan.
(Cut to BOOTH in his SUV, talking to Brennan over the phone. Scenes cut to them at the Jeffersonian and in the SUV during the conversation.)
BOOTH: Listen, I got a lead on a suspect. It's a guy by the name of Francis Costello.
BRENNAN: L'il Frankie?
BOOTH: L'il Frankie...wait, how did you know?
BRENNAN: Oh, he's featured in the guido video Angela found.
BOOTH: Ah. Well, the victim's mother fingered little Frankie.
BRENNAN (walking away from her office to the platform): L'il. L'il Frankie. Like L'il Red Riding Hood, L'il Abner, L'il John...
BOOTH: Whatever, okay, you know what? We should be in the Jersey Shore, okay? I can come pick you up.
BRENNAN: Oh, excellent! I can compare the field experience with the documentary series.
BOOTH: Okay, see you in a bit.
(They hang up. BRENNAN swipes her card to enter the forensic platform)
FISHER: Ah, Dr. Brennan, how are you?
BRENNAN: I'm well, Mr. Fisher. Have you fully recovered from your mental breakdown?
FISHER: It's an ongoing process.
BRENNAN: It's very often those with the highest intelligence who suffer from...the vernacular is meltdown.
FISHER: Well, thank you, Dr. Brennan.
BRENNAN: No, I'm not being kind, I'm being factual.
FISHER I know. That's what makes it awesome. There was extensive damage to the C1 and C2 vertebrae. It's like the spinous and transverse processes cracked off internally.
BRENNAN (examines the skull): That's exactly what happened, these processes were broken off by the foramen magnum, here. The cervical calm was forced into the victim's skull and then penetrated the base of the brain.
FISHER: Which caused tearing to the major vessels of the brainpan. The brain would have bled out, thus releasing him into sweet oblivion. (Brennan gives him a look) Which is death, which is sad, not happy.
BRENNAN: Yes. Death would have occurred near instantaneously.
FISHER: I also found a sliver of concrete embedded in the skull wound, I gave it to Hodgins.
BRENNAN: Very good, Mr. Fisher.
(CUT TO: BOOTH and BRENNAN in the SUV)
BOOTH: So what's got you so interested?
BRENNAN: I've been studying their culture, language and customs. The guido tribe is fascinating.
BOOTH: Wait, is it alright to call them that?
BRENNAN: A tribe? Yes.
BOOTH: No, no, I don't think it's alright to call them guidos.
BRENNAN: Oh, the guidos' dance rituals, tattoos, speech patterns, secret lexicons and ornate costumes are obvious markers.
BOOTH: They're dumb ass kids.
BRENNAN: Yes. The avid focus on mating suggests a kind of protracted adolescence. Kids and dumb ass refer to their determined resistance to maturing. (her phone rings, answers phone) This is Dr. Brennan.
(Cut to CAM in her office, talking to Brennan over the phone. Scenes cut to Cam's office and the SUV during the conversation.)
CAM: We know why the cheese skippers were literally flipping out.
HODGINS (enters): Ephedra. Probably from energy drinks.
BRENNAN: Synthetic adrenaline.
HODGINS: Yeah, the maggots ingested it from the tissue and it made them ravenous.
CAM: Which explains why his remains decomposed so quickly
HODGINS: Now extrapolating the time it took for one gram sample of flesh to be devoured, the victim died between 40 and 52 hours ago.
CAM: There's more. Glycerin, surfactants, lanolin, petrolatum, vegetable oil, coconut oil, and copious amounts of artificial fragrance.
HODGINS: Basically, he looked and smelled great when he died.
BRENNAN: Okay. (hangs up) (to Booth) The tox screen showed high levels of alcohol, over-the-counter stimulants, and men's beauty products.
BOOTH: I'm sorry, men's what now?
BRENNAN: Hairspray, hair gel, tanning spray, and some sort of aerosolized perfume.
BOOTH: Cologne. Men wear cologne.
BRENNAN: You don't.
BOOTH: That's because it smells like perfume.
(CUT TO: BRENNAN and BOOTH walking down the Jersey Shore)
BRENNAN: This is the perfect environment for the tribe to preen and mate.
BOOTH: This is like trying to find a guido in a haystack. (his phone rings, answers phone) Booth. Hey, Hannah. Uh, yeah, just, you know what, hey, hell, move all your stuff in.
BRENNAN: Say hi for me.
BOOTH: Ah, no, I'm serious. Listen, uh, Bones say hi. Hannah says hi.
BRENNAN (whispers): Hi.
BOOTH: Hi. Everybody says hi. Okay. Uh, listen, mi casa es su casa. Alright. Talk to you later, bye.
BRENNAN: That was uh, that was very casual.
BRENNAN: You inviting Hannah to move in with you. I mean, usually there's more ceremony. I hope she didn't feel cheated.
BOOTH: It's not like we haven't talked about it before, Bones.
(They notice a group of guys and girls chanting "Go!" at the roofdeck of a three-storey house)
BRENNAN: Eureka! A gathering of guidos. I believe that's L'il Frankie. (Camera pans to FRANKIE, among the guys and girls at the roofdeck who are still chanting "Go! Go! Go!") Given the excessive amounts of stimulants and alcohol, it's possible that Ritchie the V simply fell down, fracturing his cerebellum on concrete.
FRANKIE: Go one!
CROWD (joins him): Two! Three! (a guy is tossed in the pool) Wooh!
BOOTH: Yeah, that, or he was tossed head-first into the concrete by a bunch of drunken idiots.
BRENNAN: That certainly would fit into their tribal customs.
(Crowd cheer as the guy emerges from the pool)
(CUT TO: A beach house party with dance music playing, people dancing, drinking and making out)
BOOTH (sees a guidette - JOSEPHINE - being swung at a hammock): Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa, FBI!
JOSEPHINE (dropped on the floor): Aw!
BOOTH: Watch yourself there. FBI Agent Booth.
FRANKIE: What's your name, pretty lady?
BRENNAN: Oh, I'm Dr. Temperance Brennan (bumps shoulders with Frankie) of the Jeffersonian, sup? Yo, sup. Sup. Sup?
FRANKIE: Well, Dr. Temperance Brennan of the Jeffersonian, how about when you finish with all your policing or whatnot, you and your Hartford teacher friends come and meet me at Club Elegante tonight, know what I'm saying?
BOOTH: Okay, why don't we all just take a small swollen step back. You, Muscles Marinara, when was the last time you saw Ritchie Genaro?
FRANKIE: Thursday. Him and Peppy Dio went creeping.
BRENNAN (to Booth): Oh, creeping is when males go in search of females for the purpose of having s*x.
BOOTH: Right, thanks, Bones, got that. (to Frankie) So, uh, was Peppy the last person who saw Ritchie?
JOSEPHINE: Is Peppy in some sort of trouble?
BOOTH: That's what we're here to find out. So, where's Peppy now?
FRANKIE: He's doing a GTL.
BOOTH: What's a GTL?
BRENNAN (to Booth): Gym, tan, laundry.
BOOTH: Wha...alright. Ritchie and Peppy, Thursday night. What happened?
FRANKIE: I don't know, the V hasn't been back since. We just thought he pulled some ho-bag or skank or something, you know, that's the V's weakness.
BRENNAN (to Booth): Ho-bags and skanks...
BOOTH: Got it. Thank you. Alright, so, Peppy and Ritchie, have any arguments, they fight?
JOSEPHINE: They fought over a stupid T-shirt.
FRANKIE: Whoa! Shut the ho, Jo!
JOSEPHINE: Uh. Whatever! (walks away)
BOOTH: Okay, uh, they fought over a T-shirt?
FRANKIE: Peppy got his drink on before going to the club. He went to pick up Ritchie who was wearing the exact same Fred McCarty t-shirt. Peppy didn't wanna be twinsies so...they got into it.
BRENNAN: So the bros were mixing it up, yo.
FRANKIE: Yeah, but they made up and wore the same shirt anyway.
BRENNAN: Well, the victim was wearing a Fred McCarty shirt.
BOOTH: That's true.
FRANKIE: Victim...is Ritchie alright?
BRENNAN: No. No, he's dead.
FRANKIE (drops to his knees, distraught): Ritchie!!!
JOSEPHINE (runs back to him): Frankie! Frankie baby, what did they say?
FRANKIE: Ritchie's dead!
GUIDO 1: Did you hear what he said?
JOSEPHINE: The V?
FRANKIE: The V! The V's dead!
JOSEPHINE: Oh, Ritchie...Marena! Marena, someone killed Ritchie!
GUIDETTE 1: Which Ritchie? Fat Ritchie?
JOSEPHINE: No! Ritchie the V!
GUIDETTE 1: Oh my God! Ritchie! Someone killed Ritchie the V!
GUIDETTE 2: Oh no, he's freakin' out!
GUIDETTE 3: No! Not Ritchie! (crying)
BOOTH: Well, cat's out of the bag now.
(CUT TO: Royal Diner where BRENNAN and BOOTH are meeting with DR. LANCE SWEETS.)
SWEETS: What these guys do is combine alcohol with, uh, highly caffeinated energy drinks containing pseudoephedrine.
BOOTH: They have lots of posturing, muscles and fighting over girls.
BRENNAN: Like many tribes, the markers that define a man involve s*x and violence.
BOOTH: Look, Ritchie was hooking up with someone who was hooking with someone, that's the bottom line there. And the answer could be right in here.
BRENNAN: These copies of his text messages just seem to be random letters. Some kind of code?
BOOTH: Well, like TTFN.
SWEETS: Ta-ta for now. (Booth and Brennan give him a look) I'm pretty good at these.
BOOTH: Great, here you go, all yours. (hands him the folder of documents) Call when you're done.
SWEETS: Okay. TTFN.
(CUT TO: Brennan's Office, BRENNAN is working)
HANNAH (knocks): Hey, Temperance.
HANNAH: Is this a bad time?
BRENNAN: Um, for what?
HANNAH: For us to talk?
BRENNAN: No. No, this is a fine time for that. Come in.
HANNAH (enters): This place is totally cool. It's like working in a spaceship.
BRENNAN: Ah, I wouldn't know. I trained for a shuttle mission once but, never got to go.
HANNAH: You're quite literal, aren't you?
BRENNAN: Yes, I find I avoid a lot of misunderstandings if I merely deal with facts.
HANNAH: Well, the reason I'm here, um, Seeley asked me to move in with him.
BRENNAN: I can't really give you advice about that. I don't know you that well, and there are so many factors (Hannah laughs)...sexual compatibility...
HANNAH: No. I'm doing it. I came back from Afghanistan to be with him.
BRENNAN: Oh! Then, congratulations. You must be happy...you and Booth.
HANNAH: Yeah, we are. But I was thinking, I wanted to get him something when I moved in, a present and...since you know him so well...
BRENNAN: A telephone. Get him a telephone!
HANNAH: I was thinking something a little more personal.
BRENNAN: A vintage rotary phone. Booth loves them and hasn't been able to find the right one.
BRENNAN: Yes. He's been looking. He says that's what a phone is supposed to be...indestructible and heavy enough to knock someone out.
HANNAH: Yeah, that, that sounds like Seeley.
BRENNAN: His grandfather kept his rotary phone until it fell apart. Booth loved the feel of the Bakelite, the tick-tick-tick of the dial as it turned...he says the mechanics make it human.
HANNAH: And lucky for me, he has a partner who knows him so well.
BRENNAN: Booth and I have become very close, by necessity. Congratulations again. I'm happy for you both.
HANNAH: Thanks. (starts to walk out of the office)
BRENNAN: One thing, Hannah. (Hannah turns back) I want you to be sure about this.
HANNAH: The phone?
BRENNAN: No, although I understand the misunderstanding. No, about you and Booth moving in together. Booth will give himself to you completely. And it will be very painful for him if you aren't as serious about the relationship as he is.
HANNAH: I am. But thanks though. You're a good friend, Temperance. Seeley's very lucky.
(CUT TO: Bone Room)
FISHER (examining the victim's skull): My shrink thought I should get out of the forensic anthropology business. I tried to explain its not violent death that makes me morbidly depressed, it was life.
CAM: And he thinks that explanation shows a positive attitude?
FISHER: Oh, I'm quite positive about my job. For example, these injuries...how cool are they? There's a perimortem bruise near the depression fracture. That must have hurt.
CAM: Another cheery thought, once I removed the scalp, subscapular hemorrhaging was apparent.
FISHER: That means there were two injuries to the head.
CAM: Which means for the victim to have taken a swan dive onto the pavement, he would have had to do it twice.
FISHER: Is there enough Red Bull and vodka in the world to explain that?
CAM: Most likely, he was struck in the head twice by the same weapon. What did Hodgins say about the concrete sample?
FISHER: It's called Minutecrete and it's not a match to the sample taken from the shore house.
CAM: We should do a search for any weapons that could be made of Minutecrete. (exits)
FISHER (to victim's skull): Don't look at me that way, dude. You don't know how good you got it.
(CUT TO: Angela's Office, where ANGELA is eating saltines while lying down on her couch)
CAM (enters): Angela, can you run a search on possible weapons made from Minutecrete?
ANGELA (gets up, brushes off crumbs from her clothes): Yeah, sure.
CAM: Something that could cause fractures and subscapular hemorrhaging oh my God.
ANGELA: Oh I'm, yeah, I'm messy. I know I shouldn't eat lying down.
CAM: Pregnant. You're pregnant.
ANGELA: What? Pregnant? Me?! No. No. No.
CAM: You've got that whole glowy thing and the crackers...I mean, nobody eats crackers for pleasure.
ANGELA: Okay, listen. I've been feeling a little bit queasy but, you cannot tell anybody about this.
CAM: I was right! I knew it! Um...are you happy about this?
ANGELA: Yes, we're, we're thrilled. I mean, I could be having a little Hodgins. How cute would that be?
CAM: Oh...m-maybe you should lie down.
ANGELA: Uh, no, I'm, I'm okay, actually I'm feeling pretty good. I can do anything, you know? I would hope that you could keep this between us because, nobody else knows.
CAM: Oh, of course. Just you and me.
ANGELA: Okay. I mean, you can't even tell Hodgins that you know, um, because he wants to make some sort of big announcement at the right time...?
CAM: I-I won't breathe a word.
CAM: Oh, I'm just so happy, this is so great, Angela, I'm...
FISHER (enters): What is?
CAM: That...she is...
ANGELA: That I, I have a, um, I have a database of concrete items that can kill someone and today...is the first day that I can use it so I am...o-over the moon.
CAM: Yes. And you shouldn't disturb her, Mr. Fisher.
FISHER: I wanted to give you the measurements of the injuries, the dispersal of fracturing.
ANGELA: Great! Great, fantastic.
CAM: And I'll...go...away now. (gives Angela a big grin and exits)
FISHER: I just can't get as stoked about work as you guys can.
ANGELA (mutters): Okay then.
(CUT TO: Club Elegante; BOOTH and BRENNAN arrive, with TERROR, the bouncer, outside the club)
TERROR: Hey, whoa, put on the brakes. We're doing a list.
BRENNAN (to Booth): Let me handle this. (to Terror, bumps shoulders with him) Yo, 'sup. Yeah. (enters the club)
BOOTH (tries to follow): Bones, hol...
TERROR: Hey, whoa, whoa, hey, hey, the list.
BOOTH: FBI, okay? We're here about a murder. Listen, the victim was here at this establishment uh, with this guy. (shows Terror victim's photo) Uh, is he here tonight?
TERROR (points out a guy): Oh yeah, he's right there, see? Him. (points to another guy) No, no, him. (points to another guy) Him?
BOOTH: Okay, you know what, I'll tell you what, we'll go, let's go scope the place out ourselves, alright?
TERROR: Do your thing.
BOOTH: Yeah, whatever. (enters the club)
(CUT TO: Inside Club Elegante. People dancing and fist-bumping.)
BRENNAN (to Booth, points to some guidettes): Notice the two unpaired females. Their body movements and attire suggest they are available for mating.
BOOTH: Bones, we're looking Peppy.
BRENNAN: Oh! Over there.
BOOTH: Where, Peppy?
BRENNAN: No, no, two males have spotted the available females and will approach and begin the exhibition. Fascinating.
BOOTH: Fascinating? More like pitiful.
BRENNAN: Now the males are displaying their musculature indicating they are good breeders. These activities show that these two will soon mate and the other suitors will continue their search elsewhere.
BOOTH: Okay, just remember, we're here looking for Peppy. (they walk up to three guidettes) Excuse me, FBI. You ladies recognize this guy?
(Booth and Brennan turn to look at a scuffle at the bar manned by CLINTON, the ice man)
CLINTON: Get back here! Stop that guy! You're toast man! You're toast!
(A guido - PEPPY DIO - holding an ice bucket laughs tauntingly at Clinton and throws ice cubes at him)
BRENNAN: Booth, look, it's him!
BOOTH (to Peppy): Hey you, FBI! Hold it right there!
PEPPY: Yeah, right. (runs off)
CLINTON (goes after Peppy, who dumps the entire ice bucket on Clinton's head): Yeah, you going to pay for that! Come on!
(Clinton and Peppy fight on the dance floor)
BOOTH: Hey, hey!
(Peppy punches Clinton, turns to Booth and throws a punch at him but misses. Booth punches Peppy, who gets up and tries to get to Booth but Brennan gets between them and makes a weird fierce posturing)
BRENNAN: This posturing is called throwing the crab, it will intimidate him into compliance.
(Peppy looks at her, puzzled and amused)
(CUT TO: BOOTH and BRENNAN talking to CLINTON and PEPPY on the dance floor)
BOOTH: Yeah, what was that about?
CLINTON: These idiots think ice is free, and its not. They're always in my way, they never let me do my job. Look, I gotta account for every single cube.
PEPPY: Ice is frozen water, yo. Water's free, do the math, dipstick!
CLINTON: Put on some lipgloss, Mary!
PEPPY: I will, 'cause your mother likes my lips soft.
BRENNAN (to Booth): Oh, he's suggesting that he had s*x with his mother.
BOOTH: Right, got that, Bones.
CLINTON (to Peppy): Steroid freak.
PEPPY (to Clinton): Who's the one who goes ballistic over water?
CLINTON: Yeah, like you even know what ballistic means.
BOOTH (to Clinton): You, you can go home now. Come on, go.
PEPPY: Ballistic as in referring to from the balls!
BRENNAN: No, that's not even close to an accurate definition. Ballistic refers to projectile in flight.
PEPPY: So, can I make like a ballistic now?
BOOTH: No, you cannot make like a ballistic now because you are the last person who saw Ritchie Genaro alive.
PEPPY: Seriously, yo? Ritchie was my boy. How am I gonna kill my boy?
BRENNAN: Knocking him over the head.
BOOTH: You don't seem very upset.
PEPPY: It's killing me. But I gotta keep on for Ritchie. He woulda wanted me to keep on, you feel me?
BRENNAN: Uh, he's asking if you understand.
BOOTH: So his mother said you guys were doing steroids.
PEPPY: One cycle, that was all for Ritchie. And I don't use 'roids, not anymore. Ritchie got me off 'em, proved they would trick my ballistics.
BRENNAN: So Ritchie only did anabolic steroids once?
PEPPY: His mother would kill him, like for real.
BOOTH: Alright, look, can you think of anyone who would want to kill Ritchie besides his mother?
PEPPY: His stalker.
BOOTH: Does his stalker have a name?
PEPPY: I don't know her name...I didn't see her here tonight. I could describe her.
PEPPY: She got dark hair, dark skin...big hair.
BOOTH: Ah, like everybody in this club.
BRENNAN: Would Ritchie's stalker be aggressive enough to strike him over the head hard enough to force his skull down over his spine?
GUIDETTE 1: Shut your mouth!
(Booth, Peppy and Brennan look at two guidettes having an argument)
GUIDETTE 2: Skank!
GUIDETTE 1: Ho!
(Violent catfight ensues)
BRENNAN: I withdraw the question.
(CUT TO: Jeffersonian; Angela's Office, where ANGELA is presenting some figures on the Angelatron to CAM, BRENNAN and HODGINS.)
ANGELA: Okay, comparing the concrete sample to the injuries on the victim's skull, the weapon appears to have a curved edge. Okay, completing the arc...
CAM: The murder weapon was some sort of concrete cylinder?
BRENNAN: With a 3.175 centimeter diameter.
HODGINS: Like a...plumbing pipe.
ANGELA: Yeah...or a tetherball pole.
BRENNAN: That's so random, yo. (Everyone looks at her strangely) In the vernacular.
(CUT TO: FBI Conference Room)
SWEETS: While I was studying all the text messages, I created this overview of what Dr. Brennan calls the tribe, seen through digital lines of communication. This is our victim. (points to a picture on the diagram he made)
BOOTH: Ritchie the V...he texted all these women?
SWEETS: Yeah, and these are women who texted other men.
BOOTH: Oh, it's like jealousy map. Good work.
SWEETS: Thank you. So, look at what I stumbled across. A week before the victim was murdered, over 200 texts were exchanged between the victim and a woman named Marie Galasso. (points out Marie Galasso)
BOOTH: Hmm. Arrow slash three?
SWEETS: Oh, that means a broken heart.
BOOTH: M I 2 M 2 H 6y?
SWEETS: Am I too much to handle, sexy?
BOOTH: So they were together once and she expected more.
SWEETS: Y RNT U D 4 6. Why aren't you down for s*x? And then there's this one, 2 G 2 B 4G. Too good to be forgotten. So this is where it gets really ugly. Ritchie texts Marie that she was just a grenade.
BOOTH: A grenade?
SWEETS: Yeah, a grenade is an overweight undesirable woman that one must jump on so a friend can get with the prettier girl.
SWEETS: Now this really set Marie off. She calls him a bunch of curse words, some of which I had to look up.
BOOTH: Sounds like motive to me.
SWEETS: Yeah, and after that, Ritchie texts his friends wherever he's headed to find out if she's gonna be there.
BOOTH: So she was stalking him.
SWEETS: Check this out. UL B SRY. You'll be sorry. Followed by U R GNG 2 DI.
BOOTH: You are going...
SWEETS: You are going to die.
SWEETS: I think that's pretty self-explanatory.
(CUT TO: FBI Interrogation Room with BOOTH and MARIE GALASSO, who was pacing)
BOOTH: Why don't you just sit down, Marie?
MARIE: No! I ain't tired.
BOOTH: How is that, uh, a little thing like you could kidnap a strong guy like Ritchie. What happened? Did you find him with another woman?
MARIE: I ain't saying nothing.
BOOTH: Okay, "I ain't saying nothing" means you're guilty.
MARIE: No, I ain't saying nothing not 'cause I'm guilty. I ain't not saying nothing because I loved him. I loved Ritchie and he loved me, okay? I'm not just some Shore-whore. We had plans. Now Ritchie wasn't just some guido, okay? He was going to school to be a therapist. He was gonna do stuff and be somebody and like that, okay? I knew him on a very deep level. He was no juicehead and no knucklehead. He was a gentleman.
BOOTH: Okay, I get it. He was a gentleman. Why don't you just sit down and just relax. (Marie sits down; Booth sighs) Now, let's say you didn't kill him.
MARIE (gets up again): I didn't kill him! I loved him! You know what, you wanna put me in prison for love, go ahead, okay? I'm guilty as charged, sweetheart.
BOOTH: You said you knew him on a deep level.
MARIE: Yes, I did.
BOOTH: Okay, so why is he dead? Was he afraid of someone?
MARIE (laughs): That's funny. Ritchie the V...feared no man. But there was somebody scared of him, maybe wanted him quiet.
MARIE: The trainor at the gym who was selling 'roids, 'kay? Ritchie busted the guy.
BOOTH: Does this guy have a name?
MARIE: They call him Terror. He works the door at Club Elegante.
(CUT TO: FBI - Booth's Office)
BOOTH (sees SWEETS enter): Hey, Sweets, turns out our victim Ritchie ratted out a steroid dealer. (Sweets closes Booth's door) That same dealer works as a bouncer at Club Elegante. Why'd you shut the door?
SWEETS: Well, I have to speak to you, Agent Booth.
BOOTH: Okay, that tone of voice says that you want to speak at me.
SWEETS: I hear that you asked Hannah to move in with you?
SWEETS: As your friend...
BOOTH: This, this isn't a shrinky visit?
BOOTH: So from one friend to another, I'm fine, everything's great. Nothing to worry about.
SWEETS: Okay, there might be a little shrinky stuff, because that's who I am.
BOOTH (walks to the door): Yeah, okay, thanks, friend.
(They both walk to the elevator)
SWEETS: You know, the relationship that you and Hannah have, it was forged in a highly adrenalized environment.
BOOTH: Well, yeah, we were in war together. I mean, our relationship was literally battle-tested.
SWEETS: Right. But a new environment, you know, a calmer one with fewer distractions, it alters your dynamic. I just don't want you to jump into something too soon.
BOOTH: I really appreciate it, Sweets, but Hannah is bringing all of her stuff over tonight. I even went and I got her some bathroom stuff, a set of new sheets. I mean, what kind of guy does something that crazy if he isn't sure?
SWEETS: Hard to argue with that. (Booth enters the elevator) I just had to say something, you know?
BOOTH: Yeah, you're a good kid. (elevator door closes)
SWEETS: Oh boy.
(CUT TO: Jeffersonian; Bone Room)
FISHER: I was looking at bone fragments from the top of the skull when I found these. I'm taking out the remaining sliver that was buried in the fractures. (HODGINS magnifies the thing that Fisher found on the monitor) Well, it's not bone.
HODGINS: No, some kind of yellow polymer. Its possibly polyvinyl chloride or polytetrafluoroethylene.
FISHER: So he had concrete and plastic in his head. (yawns)
HODGINS: Oh no. Uh, you okay?
FISHER: Are you gonna ask me that every time I yawn?
HODGINS: Possibly. I don't want you to fall asleep again for another two months, Van Winkle.
HODGINS: I'm gonna figure out where this plastic is from. It might help Angela narrow down the murder weapon
FISHER (yawns): Okay.
(CUT TO: Inside Club Elegante, which is empty)
BOOTH (to Brennan): So when Ritchie ratted out Terror for selling drugs, he lost his job at the gym, all of his clients, it was a mess.
TERROR (enters): Can I help you?
BOOTH: Yeah. Why don't you tell us what happened between you and your buddy Ritchie. I'm guessing that didn't go very well since he's dead.
TERROR: I don't have to say nothin'. I'm the doorman of this establishment so I'm gonna ask you guys to leave.
BOOTH: I wouldn't be acting like bouncer right now.
BRENNAN (notices the door to the storage room was open): Booth, the storage room. (starts to walk to the storage room)
TERROR (stops Brennan): Hey, hey, hey! No.
BOOTH: Whoa! (into Terror's face) Did you just shove my partner?
TERROR: You're all bad with a gun and a badge, but you won't always be on duty, you know what I'm saying?
BOOTH: No, I don't know what you're saying. Why don't you spell it out for me?
TERROR: I mean, watch your back.
BRENNAN: Oh, no, (Booth starts taking off his suit jacket) you, you shouldn't threaten Agent Booth, he can be very male.
BOOTH: I don't like walking around looking over my shoulder, huh? (hands Brennan his gun) So what do you say we do this right now, hmm?
TERROR: Alright, li-listen, my boss holds me responsible for everything in that storage room. I wasn't looking for trouble.
BOOTH: You're not looking for trouble? He's not looking for trouble. (Brennan gives him back his gun and suit jacket) Which means you are giving Bones permission to go look in the storage room. Bones?
BRENNAN (walks to the storage room, notices something): Booth?
BRENNAN: Look, yellow plastic and concrete.
(CUT TO: FBI Interrogation Room, where BOOTH is interrogating TERROR)
TERROR: Fine, whatever. Yeah, Ritchie ratted on me and I was pissed, but I didn't kill him. Is this really necessary?
BOOTH: Then where were you last Thursday night?
TERROR: At work.
BOOTH: No, you weren't at work.
TERROR: I didn't kill Ritchie the V.
BOOTH: Then where were you? You know, if I were you, I'd plead road rage.
TERROR: I got an alibi.
BOOTH: You can't just have an alibi, you gotta share it with the world.
TERROR: I took my Ma up to New York to see Billy Elliot.
BOOTH: Billy Elliot?
TERROR: Yeah, the boy that dances, yeah.
BOOTH (trying not to laugh): You like musicals.
TERROR: That's why I wasn't forthcoming about my alibi. There's some joys in life you wanna keep to yourself.
BOOTH: Billy Elliot is a joy?
TERROR: Its beautiful, dude. The boy is an angel.
BOOTH: Right. I'll tell you what, I'm gonna find somebody who knows the show and you're gonna tell it to them, the whole story. Then we'll see if you really saw Billy Elliot with your mother.
TERROR: Oh, I can perform the whole thing. Word for word.
(CUT TO: Angela's Office, where ANGELA is presenting something on the Angelatron to FISHER and HODGINS)
ANGELA: This plastic sliver is curved, just like the Minutecrete was.
HODGINS: Well, they look pretty close.
FISHER: Oh, so close.
HODGINS: Okay, both fragments were in the skull wound, but how did they get there if they weren't part of the same weapon?
ANGELA: Yeah, that's a good question. Well, since the plastic doesn't fit inside the circle, how about trying it on the outside?
FISHER: Okay, that worked.
HODGINS: Yeah, alright, great, then what did we just find out?
ANGELA: Plastic-covered cement.
HODGINS: Concrete. Uh, I'm just being precise. You know, cement is the ingredient in concrete that keeps everything kind of together?
FISHER: Right! Uh, right...like...ugh, I totally suck.
(CUT TO: BOOTH and BRENNAN walking to Royal Diner) BOOTH: Terror told the whole story of Billy Elliot. He even teared up a couple of times.
BRENNAN: Well, it is a touching story of triumph over background and adversity.
BOOTH: Well, his mom even backed him up, saying they even had receipts. (they enter the Royal Diner)
BRENNAN: You don't think he did it.
BOOTH: The whole timeline doesn't add up. Let's sit over here.
BRENNAN: Okay, Ritchie's friends say he disappeared on Thursday.
BOOTH: Right, so, and the body was found buried in sand the next Monday.
BRENNAN: Cam and Hodgins say that the body only took two days to decompose.
BOOTH: Exactly. So either they're wrong or...
BRENNAN: ...two days remain unaccounted for.
BOOTH: Okay, Squints could have gotten it wrong.
BRENNAN (shakes finger at Booth): Uh-uh. Uh-uh.
BOOTH Don't do that. Don't do that. What?
BRENNAN: I have an idea of how those two days went missing. I have to call Fisher.
(CUT TO: Bone Room, where FISHER is working)
CAM (enters): What are you doing?
FISHER: Dr. Brennan had some kind of a brainstorm and it looks like she was right.
CAM: You say that like its bad news.
FISHER: I should've thought of it!
CAM: O-kay. First, tell me the brainstorm.
FISHER: Well, note the microfractures in the Haversian canals.
CAM: Yes. From a blow to the skull?
FISHER: These are from the victim's femur. The victim was frozen for two days!
CAM: That's what caused the microfractures. (Fisher yawns) No, why are you yawning? Are you depre...don't yawn.
FISHER: I suck.
CAM: How long ago did Dr. Brennan have her brainstorm?
FISHER: About 45 minutes ago.
CAM: So basically, you're 45 minutes behind arguably the greatest forensic anthropologist in the nation?
FISHER: That's one way to look at it, but...
CAM: I'm not a psychiatrist but it seems to me that if your shrink says look on the bright side, he means give yourself the benefit of the doubt.
CAM: Yeah. (something occurs to her) The victim was killed, and then frozen?
CAM: Put on ice?
FISHER: Metaphorically speaking.
CAM: Or not. (exits)
FISHER: What do you, what do you mean, "or not"? What? What did I miss? No, what did I miss?! (yawns)
(CUT TO: BRENNAN and BOOTH gets out of the SUV and walks to the back entrance of Club Elegante, where an ice truck is parked)
BRENNAN: Studies have shown that when frozen properly, a body's cell deterioration stops, and can be held in that state nearly indefinitely. But in order to avoid microfractures, when a person wants to be preserved cryogenically, they need to be flash-frozen.
BOOTH: I get it, Bones.
BRENNAN: I should have seen it earlier because when a body is frozen slowly, the decomposition rate speeds up as the body thaws.
(They notice CLINTON pounding the ice with a yellow bat)
BOOTH (takes away the bat from Clinton): Hey! (shows the bat to Brennan) Bones?
BRENNAN: Look, plastic filled with concrete. That's the murder weapon.
BOOTH (to Clinton): You killed the wrong guy.
CLINTON: What do you mean?
BOOTH: Ritchie the V didn't steal your ice. It was his roommate.
BRENNAN: They were wearing the same shirt.
BOOTH: You and Peppy were hollering at each other, he takes off, you see Ritchie in the same shirt.
BRENNAN: Maybe you threaten him with your wiffle bat.
BOOTH: He doesn't know that the bat's filled with cement, he comes at you...
BRENNAN: You hit him twice.
BOOTH: Then you put him on ice for two days, then you bury him at the beach.
CLINTON: I'm just trying to make a living. You know what it's like? To be overrun by these morons? Every delivery they screw with me, take my ice...I lost it.
BOOTH: No, Peppy is a real douche, and I'm sure he's got his beatings coming to him down the line, but Ritchie? Ritchie was a good guy. All he was doing was looking for a good time up at the Jersey Shore.
CLINTON: What can I say? They all look alike.
(CUT TO: Booth's Apartment, where BRENNAN, CAM, HANNAH and ANGELA are drinking and laughing at the living room)
BRENNAN: When you said you didn't need us to help you move in, I thought you were merely being polite.
HANNAH: I don't really do that.
CAM: I'm still...this is everything you own in the world? (gestures to Hannah's bags)
HANNAH: Mhmm. It's the life I choose.
ANGELA: Yeah, she travels light. I used to travel light.
BRENNAN: Booth won't even have to make room for you.
ANGELA (notices Booth): Hey, man of the house, come on in. Pretend you live here.
BOOTH (looks at them, puzzled): Hi. What's going on?
HANNAH: Oh my God. Did you not mean it when you said I could move in?
BOOTH: No, uh, yes, I wanted you to move in.
BRENNAN: We offered to help her, but...
CAM: This is everything. (gestures at Hannah's bags)
ANGELA: You're basically taking in a homeless woman.
HANNAH: I prefer the term nomad.
ANGELA: I used to be a nomad...who drank wine.
BOOTH: You don't drink wine anymore?
BOOTH (looks at Hannah, Brennan, then Angela): No. (looks at Cam)
CAM (nods smilingly): And he just got it.
BOOTH: Hey, congratulations! That's so great! (hugs Angela)
ANGELA: Listen, you have to act surprised when Hodgins tells you, okay?
BOOTH: Promise. You're gonna be a great mom.
ANGELA: Thank you.
CAM: Oh, speaking of which, I've gotta get home to Michelle and I don't want to reek of wine.
ANGELA: Yeah, I should probably get home to Mr. Hodgins.
CAM: Bye, guys. (exits)
ANGELA: Thank you. (to Cam) Hey, wait for me. (exits)
BOOTH: Okay. (to Hannah) Welcome home. (looks at the phone with a red bow) What's that?
HANNAH: Oh, it's a housewarming gift. A Bakelite. Original. Do you like it?
BOOTH (tries the phone, hears the dial tone): Hey, it's a real one! (Brennan smiles at his reaction)
HANNAH: Temperance told me that you liked them, so...
BOOTH: No, I love it. Thanks. (moves to kiss Hannah)
HANNAH and BRENNAN: You're welcome.
BRENNAN (gets up from the couch to leave): See you tomorrow.
(Booth and Hannah turn to her)
HANNAH: Oh, no, stay. Do you want to join us for dinner?
BOOTH: Yeah, I can make my famous mac 'n cheese.
BRENNAN: No, traditionally, when two people share a domicile for the first time, the person who doesn't, leaves.
HANNAH: Thanks for your help.
(Brennan walks to the door, Booth follows her)
BOOTH: Hey, Bones. I'll see you tomorrow.
BRENNAN: Yes. Tomorrow.
(They give each other a look with a slight smile on their faces. Brennan closes the door.)