Gil and Sara then proceed to try to get DNA samples from their limited pool of suspects; Brass bows out after cheerily wishing them "Happy swabbing!" Leon's busy doping everyone up. Gil divides the work by telling Sara, "You take that side, I'll take Jiminy Cricket." Somehow, I feel like Liam should be attached to a case with imaginary grasshoppers. The swabbing goes about as well as can be expected until Sara has to swab Roman; he's evidently eschewed our spoken language for a series of lunging bites. It's moderately startling, but on the bright side, Iceman from Top Gun now has someone who actually gets that tooth-chomping thing he does. The two of them can happily shatter their molars in dental communion. Meanwhile, Sara deals by calling out, "Grissom…you take this one." Heh.
It's still raining. Robbie's still dead, only now he's across town and on David the Dry Coroner's slab. Gil has made the time to zip across town and hang out during the autopsy too. He's still got all his digits, so I'm guessing his attempt to get Roman's DNA was more successful. David says of Robbie's stomach contents: "They're fascinating. It reminded me of that scene in Jaws where Dreyfuss cuts open the shark's belly and all kinds of weird things come out." Gil looks confused: "You found a license plate?" No, that tends to show up in regular prison; the inmates take their work home with them. Sadly, no. David did find "band-aids, wood chips, human hair and half a snapshot." Gil muses, "Pica?" "Boo?" David replies. Ha! Gil looks contemptuous at the attempted joke, then huffs, "Pica's a compulsion to eat non-nutritive food items. It's from the Latin word for magpie." Does it cover non-nutritive food items like Cheetos, or merely things in wood pulp family? Then again, maybe Cheetos are in the wood pulp family…anyway, Gil explains that pica's symptomatic of a large and indiscriminate appetite, which certainly does nothing to sever the pica/Cheeto association. Anyway, it turns out that despite the fat and juicy head wounds, Robbie died of asphyxiation; his head was bounced off a hard surface post-mortem. "Evidently dead wasn't dead enough," Gil sniffs. David helpfully points out that Robbie was likely restrained immediately before his death, if the ligature marks on his wrists and ankles are any indication. Gil says peevishly, "Nobody mentioned restraints."
Sara's also taken a break from the hospital and come back to the lab. She's peering in a microscope when Hodges comes up to talk personal grooming habits: "Would you ever bleach your hair? I wouldn't. It's so Liam the larval CSI. Most of the hair is the vic's, but I also found that bleached sample as well. In my continuing quest to further my standing, I took it upon myself to get you the tox report…blood came back with pretty hefty levels of olanzapine." "That's a pretty potent anti-psychotic," Sara notes. "Good for drooling," Hodges adds. Sadly, he does not finish that sentence, "Which is so Liam-like as well." Instead, he notes, "Also, there's the not-so-potent smattering of ibuprofen." Sara's all, "Really? That's it?" Hodges muses, "If I were institutionalized, I would be hoping for something better. Clonazepam, maybe." I love that Hodges has actually given thought to this eventuality. Sara does not share my affection for his actinic wit. She gives him a look, and Hodges asks, "You think I'm crazy?" "Crazy is as crazy does," Sara replies. She continues, "His chart indicates he was on at least four other anti-psychotics. Why wasn't he getting his meds?" "Do I look clairvoyant?" Hodges snaps back. He saunters off, irritated.