Monday, March 3, 2008

3/26/2007

tivo description: when a marine recruiter is murdered, the CSIs delve into the world of military enlistment to find the killer. natalia must face her ex-husband when he asks out one of her co-workers.

iraq, miami-style
yes, all the bad guys wear head scarves
guns and gasoline, we can save the world!

h, mourning the fallen solider, miami-style

frank: till derrek perry there put five in his back

dumbass_wannabe: i know you're thinking i was all battle crazy (WTF. you're a dumbass at a shooting range playing fake war. there is no such thing as battle crazy)


h: you're free to go but don't go far (why the hell not. he was already dead, you said so yourself.)

h: frank, the war may be staged, but the murder is real


calleigh: man in uniform...you know i bet some of them (old bullet wounds) are from saving people's lives. he was awarded the bronze star. (who gets bullet holes in a perfect triangle pattern. and really, can they lay it on any thicker. yes, yes, we get it, you're a big fan of war. gotta have gas to fill those hummers. how's that working out for you?)

alexx: white powder in his nasal cavity. (aka: nose....where there's coke, there's gotta be a hooker....)

not coke, special K!!! even better. this probably means there's a dead hooker.

ok a vet and a marine own a phat house on the water (eminent domain is sure to step in any second). she works from home? what the hell. is this some kinda paternalism, women on csi: miami-style can work, as long as they stay in the house. i have never heard of a vet in a city who works out of their house. would you want all of your clients there.

wolfe: is that where you kept the ketamine (yes, i'm sure this is a cop's first question to a widow/potential suspect)

of course a break-in. a vet, who by law has to keep track of the medication, doesn't know what was taken nor did she file a police report. right.
and it's been days and she hasn't cleaned it up or put a board over the window. if you live in a house like that you have something called a maid.

vet/wife: am i going to lose my license (if you have to ask....)
calleigh: (h-style) there's a possibility you may lose more than that.

wolfe: the challenge keeps us frosty, it's the CSI way

split screens!

the military dna database. right, they can just bust right into that database

oh here comes h, right in time for the grieving mother... that classless SOB interrupts a funeral.

h "caring"/condescending looks

military pyramid scheme?

h: ma'am if you would ever like to talk to me about this further (WHAT THE FUCK. is he also a therapist in addition to helicopter pilot, sharp shooter, child rapist, and bomb expert)
here comes the h calling card. we'll be seeing that again.

based on the description that a fiber has kevlar in it, calleigh knows the exact source and the obscure military use of some gloves

dumbass_wannabe: you can't prove that. (WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!!! WRONG ANSWER. the correct answer is: what are you talking about? i don't even know who this guy is.)

dumbass_wannabe1: don't fold matt (so you're admitting you did it)
dumbass_wannabe2: then you tell (you're clearly missing the point)

dumbass_wannabe1: worse than being a chicken (how old are you?)

dumbass_wannabe1: we're gonna shoot some big ass guns (on second thought, let's get your dumb ass on the next plane to baghdad)

they burned all the files. MORONS. take the one you want, walk away. what the hell is wrong with you. can we put these guys on the front lines

grieving mother enters...told you that card would be back! h to the rescue . or maybe superfreak. i'm rick james, bitch)

you want her to hand her dead son's body over to MDPD. ok. that'll happen. well, miami-style, it will.



very yellow tonight

h: i spoke to the officer in charge of your case and it's ok to talk to me (oh yeah, h, oh excuse me LIEUTENANT h, just waltzes right into the JAG office and convinces them that he is the guy who should be dealing with their prisoner.

solider_in_jag_jail: did my mother say it was ok? (you go to iraq and fight in a war, yet you need your mom's permission to talk to h)

h: so what i need now, kevin, is for you to trust me. (and because h says you should trust him, all the shell shock and killing of babies that have scarred you will just disappear)

random football flying through the air

i'm pretty sure they don't put relatives in the same unit

h: your unit was attacked (that's what she said...)

h: kevin, i don't think you killed your brother (based on what h-tuition?)

so h pretty much tells him he didn't do it, and he tells him to leave. oh there is some secret military spy cover up stuff about to be busted open by our fearless leader, h. my question is, where's the hooker?

h: kevin, i'm not gonna give up on you (ok, he either did it or he didn't. no faith involved)

autopsy starts in full uniform. i'm pretty sure they have lackeys to take off the clothes. isn't there embalming fluid in him, what's she gonna find

could they slow this scene down any further, unbuttoning the buttons, taking out the stitches....

alexx: i flouroscoped his body

h: that's not a bullet, is it? (you people know the most random shit based on weird allusions to chemical make up, but you don't know the difference between bullet and not a bullet. bring in calleigh!)

he thinks it paint (specifically, vehicle paint) based on the tiny fragment but he can't tell that it wasn't a bullet.

they think they're going to find some vehicle match on you tube?

hair's too short for a military haircut. newsflash: they don't make you cut your hair short

time frame check: he was at the wake that morning. in the meantime, the mom has called h, come in to the lab (but not past the desk, accreditation and all), had the body sent to the the lab, packed up his shit, the other son was arrested, and h has gone to jag jail. it's still yellow in there, so i'm guessing the sun is still out...

brad: isn't iraq a little out of your jurisdiction (yeah, that's a good question to ask a cop)
h: not anymore brad...not anymore (the arrogance...)

recruiter: i will not apologize for my mission (i hate to be the one to break this to you buddy, you're making cold calls. pretty much a glorified telemarketer.)

wolfe: i'm gonna need to see everything that they stole (and in classic csi: miami-style false logic, the guy goes right to the right drawer. first of all, he didn't tell you their names, secondly, how would you know what was in a pile of papers you never saw. files would be alphabetical, not chronological)

security risk. on a piece of paper. i'm pretty sure the marines have mostly electronic records. and why wouldn't the flag be on the actual record, not just mixed in the folder with all the other ones.

wolfe: security risk, what's that mean? (exactly what you think it does.)

recruiter: washington flags applications they think are questionable, like if the name appears on the terrorist watch list (yes, because 'the terrorists' are so stupid that they would apply to the military, that bastion of tolerance.)...can't take a chance with national security

wolfe: i'm going to need copies of all of these (no problem. no privacy or security issues there)

lab nerd: i think i have post-traumatic stress from all the battle scenes i went through (you didn't go through them, you watched them in a lab in miami)

COVER BLOWN...he wasn't eating when the shit hit the fan

i should hope the filming stops during battle

just because he owns the vehicles doesn't mean he was over there. what, does he drive all 20...

h gets an exact paint match by a cursory glance at the trucks

h: let's stop him

i'm so sure the DOD is cooperating

yeah, someone falls over and your first thought is to grab some tape (that miraculously has the same formaldehyde his parents use), and drag the body to a shooting range. it's called an anonymous call from a pay phone

dumbass_wannabe: if i called it in, with my name, do you know how that would look? (um like a 911 call? you don't have to give your real name or show id when they get there.)
...i could be the best marine, i have 20/10 vision (well, you're hired!)
(all the qualifications that mean nothing, except you're a freakin' dumbass who's too stupid to call an ambulance when someone hits there head and you did NOTHING to cause it)

the major just knows all the corporate flight schedules

here come the hummers!

brad hoffman. someone with that name went to high school with me.

h: going somewhere, brad (can i sucker punch this fool. he is so annoying with that damn look on his face and his damn attitude)

yeah, most people think that going to iraq is the way to make big bucks.

johnny cash.....

h at the funeral. as always.

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