Disclaimer: I own all the characters. They're standing behind me right now! Really!
Summary: A casefile. In rhyme. It seemed like a good idea at the time. (OH NO! I'M STILL DOING IT!)
'Twas the night before Hallows and all through the lab
The lab techs were finding excuses to gab
Greg was touching up his costume with care
In hopes that a cute co-worker soon would be there
The day-shift were nestled all snug in their beds
While nightmares of Ecklie danced through their heads
Sara in her tie-dye and I with my bugs
Were examining fibres torn off of some rugs
In Bob's living room there'd arisen a clatter
He'd sprang from his mistress to see what was the matter
Away from the bedroom he flew like a flash
Saw the body on the carpet and threw up in the trash
The admirable breasts of his girlfriend Renee
Rose and fell rapidly as she gasped in dismay
Police arrived; crime scene tape securing the scene
The body identified as Renee's husband, a Marine
Had he killed himself, realizing his wife untrue?
Not likely, and the three shots to his back were a clue
Now Sara, now Brass, now Warrick and Cat
Arrived on the scene, smelling a rat
To the corners of the bedroom, to the inside of the car
For evidence the CSI's didn't have to look far
Blood on the seat of the vehicle outside
Told him that someone had had an unpleasant ride
I took some samples, then questioned the two
It was then that Nick arrived, a little bit blue
'Sorry I'm late, boss' he said, seeming sincere
I didn't ask why he was dressed like a dead pioneer
I went back to questioning Renee's illicit dear
Who claimed that he and his girlfriend were in the clear
The samples from the car didn't match the vic
Nor that of Bob and his extramarital chick
We ran the license plate and came up with a match
A drug-dealing neighbour; now here was a catch
He was dressed all in fur from his head to his shoe
When we knocked on the door of this pimp named Hugh
He said he had an alibi; his sister named Mary
And we couldn't arrest him just because he looked rather scary
Sara and I went to reinterview Bob
But he was out at his political job
We spoke to his wife, who told us to leave
We called her in for an interview to see what we'd achieve
Sure enough, Suzanne had known about Renee
Muttering 'the secretary; what a walking cliche'
Suspicious, we performed an extensive search
What we found made my heart give a triumphant lurch
Though Suzanne had an airtight alibi
We discovered she'd been seeing a hitman on the sly
'That was easy' Warrick said after she confessed
'Yes,' I answered 'Just one question to be addressed'
'How did the hired killer make such a mistake
Thinking Renee was her husband, that soldier named Jake?'
The lessons we learned today, so far
'Don't let the hitman use the drug dealer's car
Check his eyesight before you make a contract
And divorce is cheaper than murder if your husband's a rat'
Summary: A casefile. In rhyme. It seemed like a good idea at the time. (OH NO! I'M STILL DOING IT!)
'Twas the night before Hallows and all through the lab
The lab techs were finding excuses to gab
Greg was touching up his costume with care
In hopes that a cute co-worker soon would be there
The day-shift were nestled all snug in their beds
While nightmares of Ecklie danced through their heads
Sara in her tie-dye and I with my bugs
Were examining fibres torn off of some rugs
In Bob's living room there'd arisen a clatter
He'd sprang from his mistress to see what was the matter
Away from the bedroom he flew like a flash
Saw the body on the carpet and threw up in the trash
The admirable breasts of his girlfriend Renee
Rose and fell rapidly as she gasped in dismay
Police arrived; crime scene tape securing the scene
The body identified as Renee's husband, a Marine
Had he killed himself, realizing his wife untrue?
Not likely, and the three shots to his back were a clue
Now Sara, now Brass, now Warrick and Cat
Arrived on the scene, smelling a rat
To the corners of the bedroom, to the inside of the car
For evidence the CSI's didn't have to look far
Blood on the seat of the vehicle outside
Told him that someone had had an unpleasant ride
I took some samples, then questioned the two
It was then that Nick arrived, a little bit blue
'Sorry I'm late, boss' he said, seeming sincere
I didn't ask why he was dressed like a dead pioneer
I went back to questioning Renee's illicit dear
Who claimed that he and his girlfriend were in the clear
The samples from the car didn't match the vic
Nor that of Bob and his extramarital chick
We ran the license plate and came up with a match
A drug-dealing neighbour; now here was a catch
He was dressed all in fur from his head to his shoe
When we knocked on the door of this pimp named Hugh
He said he had an alibi; his sister named Mary
And we couldn't arrest him just because he looked rather scary
Sara and I went to reinterview Bob
But he was out at his political job
We spoke to his wife, who told us to leave
We called her in for an interview to see what we'd achieve
Sure enough, Suzanne had known about Renee
Muttering 'the secretary; what a walking cliche'
Suspicious, we performed an extensive search
What we found made my heart give a triumphant lurch
Though Suzanne had an airtight alibi
We discovered she'd been seeing a hitman on the sly
'That was easy' Warrick said after she confessed
'Yes,' I answered 'Just one question to be addressed'
'How did the hired killer make such a mistake
Thinking Renee was her husband, that soldier named Jake?'
The lessons we learned today, so far
'Don't let the hitman use the drug dealer's car
Check his eyesight before you make a contract
And divorce is cheaper than murder if your husband's a rat'