Sara Grissom, my obsessed loon, bravo. That's fine, between obsession and
flames, I'll choose obsession. I am, however, one step ahead of you.
Here is the thrilling conclusion. This has been fun, and I'll see you next
time. Thank you again for all of your reviews!
Jim Brass here: well reader, I'm sure you've been following along. You've collected the evidence; you've heard what the CSIs have to say now let's see how your conclusion adds up. The first one was Grissom. He picks his nose and then eats it. Really! I've seen him do it! The second was Sara. She used my mug for that crap that Greg keeps bringing in. The third was Greg. We later found that he was lying to us. He wasn't wearing ANY underwear, at all, and he was just stalling for time with the old 'boxers or briefs' question. The fourth was Warrick; I'm really impressed with how his 'fro is coming along. He said he'd give me gambling tips if I take him to the casino. The fifth was Catherine. I must admit that it was brilliant of her to use her bra so creatively. The scarf, twine, and rope never would have worked! And the last was Nick. He's a damn fine CSI. That whole insane clown theory didn't check out, but he was close. We figure that the crime scene was actually fifty thousand miles away in an old Mongolian nomad campsite. See, Hodges stumbled into the space-time continuum, and wandered around with the nomads until they killed him for stealing all their kippers for himself. Then, in an attempt to make it look like an accident, pushed him back into the present, and here we find him. Grissom? No, he never would have figured that one out. He just isn't interested enough in human behavior. I'm sure he didn't know that Hodges loved kippers. So I had the team process the scene, strangely enough, all the evidence disappeared, but the stuff that counted remained. What? You think Grissom actually is the murderer? What he had to say sounded like a confession to you? Well, I was too busy thinking up appropriate clichés for the next case, and so I wasn't really listening. Well, I'm the boss. That's a common rookie mistake, but don't worry, you'll get better. Like my buddy Nick. Just let this be a lesson to you: Never trust a Mongolian nomad.
Jim Brass here: well reader, I'm sure you've been following along. You've collected the evidence; you've heard what the CSIs have to say now let's see how your conclusion adds up. The first one was Grissom. He picks his nose and then eats it. Really! I've seen him do it! The second was Sara. She used my mug for that crap that Greg keeps bringing in. The third was Greg. We later found that he was lying to us. He wasn't wearing ANY underwear, at all, and he was just stalling for time with the old 'boxers or briefs' question. The fourth was Warrick; I'm really impressed with how his 'fro is coming along. He said he'd give me gambling tips if I take him to the casino. The fifth was Catherine. I must admit that it was brilliant of her to use her bra so creatively. The scarf, twine, and rope never would have worked! And the last was Nick. He's a damn fine CSI. That whole insane clown theory didn't check out, but he was close. We figure that the crime scene was actually fifty thousand miles away in an old Mongolian nomad campsite. See, Hodges stumbled into the space-time continuum, and wandered around with the nomads until they killed him for stealing all their kippers for himself. Then, in an attempt to make it look like an accident, pushed him back into the present, and here we find him. Grissom? No, he never would have figured that one out. He just isn't interested enough in human behavior. I'm sure he didn't know that Hodges loved kippers. So I had the team process the scene, strangely enough, all the evidence disappeared, but the stuff that counted remained. What? You think Grissom actually is the murderer? What he had to say sounded like a confession to you? Well, I was too busy thinking up appropriate clichés for the next case, and so I wasn't really listening. Well, I'm the boss. That's a common rookie mistake, but don't worry, you'll get better. Like my buddy Nick. Just let this be a lesson to you: Never trust a Mongolian nomad.