Gil wanders from group to group, asking if anyone recognizes Maurice. No dice. He then wanders over to a woman who's sitting in a chair, doing the above-the-waist dancing so many of us have done at our desks. She's no Numa Numa dancer, but she's got flair. She's also got on a purple blouse. Gil does the "'Scuse me, do you know this guy?" Nope. Gil's staring at the blouse, and the lady grabs her cleavage and squeezes with, "You see something you like?" Gil apologizes and explains, "I noticed your lovely purple undergarment." Conveniently enough, the chair dancer bought it at the convention. Gil thanks her and moves on, but not before Purple Reign can get a good swat on his behind. I can't help but suspect that many of you lived that moment vicariously. Gil turns around with a shocked look, and Purple Reign flirtatiously smolders, "Fat girl, gay guy. It's not unheard of." Oh, honey -- Gil's still reeling from you manhandling his hinders. Don't go bringing his sexuality into it right now. You'll blow his bug-loving mind.
Cut to a reproduction of Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres's "Grande Odalisque," and then a sweet-faced redhead telling Grasshopper, Gil's Adopted Son Number Three that she remembers seeing Maurice at the mixer last night. Grasshopper, Gil's Adopted Son Number Three breaks the news of Maurice's death, and the redhead looks slightly stunned, but not stunned enough to alter her behavior any. She didn't notice whether Maurice had any company, then directs Grasshopper, Gil's Adopted Son Number Three over to the message board. She explains, "When you see somebody you like, you leave them a note. If they respond, you're in luck. If they don't, it's softer than face-to-face rejection. We get that enough as is." God knows why -- are there really that many idiots out there who entertain the idea that there's an inverse relationship between body mass and emotional sensitivity? Don't answer that. I don't want to know.
Back on the swing shift plot, the lab flunkies have finished cleaning out the beavers' life savings. Nicky sums up the take for Warrick: "Roughly $25,000 in cash, money bands from five different sports books, some assorted trash and junk, and these." These would be markers at the Orleans. Warrick reads, "Duke minus 17 on a Tuesday and Louisville on a Friday..." "They winners or losers?" Nicky asks. Warrick's all, "You know what? I don't follow college roundball any more. Most of the good players go pro right out of high school. [picking up markers] The Mirage, the Stardust, the Golden Nugget and Sam's Town." One of these things is not like the others, one of these things doesn't belong. Also, all of these things point to a classic runner's route, thereby implying that the dead guy may have been placing bets for a bookie.