Author's note: We apologize for the delay in this chapter. One of us had to move. The other got lost. Let this be a lesson to you: Never use the emergency cellphone to make prank calls when you're supposed to be navigating. Although, it's not entirely her fault. Nova Scotia uses the same name at least twice for everything! Anyhoo... we'd like to dedicate this chapter to awesomepossum for being Awesome and a Possum. You rock!
Catherine and Greg had their hands full. Who knew that so many people could fit into a small Irish pub. There must have been 80 people in there. All of them very inebriated. The first order of business was to calm everyone down, so they could be interviewed about the corpse. Catherine had sincere doubts that any of them would be able to provide any useful information. People as drunk as those at this pub just don't possess enough common sense to interpret information correctly. Greg tried to lead them to some waiting vans. As they passed the flagpole, they burst into a terrible rendition of "Give Peace A Chance," complete with wrong lyrics and varying tune.
"Oh we are sailing. Yes! Give Jesus Pants!"
In her previous career Catherine had been around drunken idiots on a daily basis, so she had her own technique dealing with them. As she approached the first one -a man covered in green paint, sporting a lampshade and a tablecloth cape- she adjusted her top so that her bra strap was visible and batted her eyelashes, "Do you mind getting in the van, sweetheart?" He shot off and was in the van within seconds.
The next man she approached blinked and asked, "Are you my mommy?"
Hearing this, the man next to him yelled, "Dude! Your mom's HOT!"
Catherine replied with "Get in the van." The man, still thinking she was his mommy complied, and his friend followed him inside, because he didn't want to piss off his friend's hot mom.
Greg was not having as much luck, even though he tried Catherine's technique. He was listening to a man in a toga ramble on about a ninja attack, while trying to escort him into the van. "…and then the ninja pounced on me like a cat. And then he stuck his claws into my leg. And then he bit me."
"Are you sure it wasn't a cat?" Greg asked, now trying to get the man to stay in the van.
"No, it was ninjas! Look, there's one right there!" The man slurred, as he pointed to an alley cat.
"Ninjas! Another man shrieked. "I gotsta get outta here!" With that he dove into the van followed by 4 more rather large men.
They had more than half of the patrons in the vans, mostly thanks to Catherine and her bra strap. Greg thought about screaming "NINJAS" to get them to evacuate, but he realized there was nothing worse than causing a group of drunken idiots to form a panicked mob. He knew this from past experience as a member of said mob. Just as he was wondering what to do next, a young man pulled off his pants to reveal his boxer shorts with Canadian flags on them. This caused several people to sing O Canada, although the versions sung to the tune of Jingle Bells and O Christmas tree were the most spirited. Most people hadn't spotted the underpants, but sang to the American flag. As the man passed by Catherine he decided he needed extra attention. "Don't you like my underpants?" He whined.
"They're very nice," she replied. "Now be a good boy and get into the van."
The attention didn't go unnoticed by several of the drunks. Almost in unison, five men said, "I've got nice underpants, too!" They proceeded to take off a layer of clothing from below the equator. This resulted in one man who was completely naked, two wearing only shirts, and one man wearing only a single leg warmer to hide his shame.
Catherine took it all in stride. "That's very nice, but please, put your pants back on. And Greg, stop laughing." The men all wanted Catherine to help them with their pants or boxers. Catherine did not want to reward their behaviour so ordered Greg to assist them, much to Greg and the men's dismay. They hurriedly got dressed and got into the vans.
A loud booming voice boomed "ERIN GO BRAGH!" from across the street. A young woman with purple hair clad only in a bra and kilt replied, "OK" and took of her bra. Catherine slipped her sweater over her shoulders, and guided her into the van. Unfortunately, this left Catherine wearing a rather revealing top and left her vulnerable to the ogling of some of the remaining drunks.
"I want her," slurred one.
Another slurred back, "I'll tell you what I want what I really want."
The man who shouted took up the challenge. The 6'6" 300 pound muscular man with a coffee-coloured complexion began singing. "If you wanna be my lover…" he screeched in his best falsetto. Others joined in the song, but this music lover was no longer able to continue the song due to an unfortunate fit of the giggles. As the song wound down, several people used the opportunity to take a sip of the liquor they were carrying. The large "singer" produced a large bottle of Tullamore Dew Irish Whiskey from a rather large sporran he was wearing over a rather short kilt. "Slaínte mha!1" He shouted as he downed the whole bottle."
"Sa-lawn cha who?" called another man as he downed his own bottle of Tullamore Dew. "Hey! Sa-lawn-cha va sounds like Ca-na-da! Look! A flag! Oh Canada…" As he pointed to the awning across the street, the remaining crowd joined in another rousing rendition of the Canadian anthem, complete with jazz hands and a (bad) dance routine.
Catherine and Greg used this opportunity to put the rest of the drunks into the vans by leading them in a conga line during the song.
Two people joined the end of the line and sang, "Doot doo doo doot HEY! Doot doo doo doot HEY!…." At the final HEY, the last drunk was in the van, the door closed and the van drove away, bringing the party-goers to the station. Catherine and Greg turned around to find Sara and Warrick laughing at them.
"Nice dancing," laughed Sara.
"We've finished inside. Just waiting for the truck." said Warrick.
"Why do you need the truck?" asked Greg.
"You should have seen the cooler they rigged up. By the looks of it half the booze is out here," commented Sara, as she looked around and saw the assorted collection of alcohol bottles, most of them empty. "You probably have another hour of work here at least."
Warrick laughed in an evil villain sort of way, "Muwahahahahaha."
"Truck's here," said Sara. "So long suckers!"
As the truck pulled away, followed by Warrick's Denali, Greg stared wistfully and waved to Sara.
"I'm jealous of Warrick," said Greg
"Why?"
"He got to touch Sara's ass! The lucky bastard."
"You've got it bad, you know."
"So, Catherine. Did you catch the West Wing the other day?" Greg desperately tried to change the subject.
"You mean that one from the first season with the secret service agent who looks like Sara?"
"Damn!" Greg tried to think of something else. "Did you see the rerun of ER yesterday?"
"You mean the one with the Doctor that looked like Sara? You do have it bad."
In a last-ditch effort to change the subject again, he decided to talk about the case. "Look at this mess! What do you think happened here?"
"I don't know, but it's going to take us a while to get everything together. Remind me to ask Grissom for a raise when he gets back."
"It's too bad he had to go to that funeral. He missed all the fun."