Après-credits, Gil is at his desk, flipping through some notes on a much-scribbled-on pad of paper and scowling. In the glass window behind him, we see Catherine walk by, then Nicky and Sara together (oh, please, God, no) and Warrick. Gil continues to brood at the paper until Catherine -- popping her gum in a move that screams "klassee," one K, two Es -- sticks her head in Gil's line of sight. "Am I bothering you?" she asks lightly. "Yeah," Gil snits back, apparently not bothered enough to take my suggestion of swatting Catherine about the head and shoulders with the memo pad. "Good!" she chirps. Gil starts, apparently connecting Catherine's annoying behavior with some distasteful administrivia he has to perform. He tells the assembled CSI team that he was supposed to hand out supervisor evaluation forms -- and there's a moment where he fumbles for the forms until Catherine locates them, thus demonstrating that Gil's greatest talents are scientific, not managerial. Pay attention, people: this is a theme that will be hammered home, repeatedly and with all the subtlety of an XFL cheerleader routine, for the duration of the show. Absorb the lesson now, and valuable chunks of free time are yours later. Anyway, Nicky babbles about how much fun it will be to rate the boss -- blissfully unaware that beyond the confines of the Fourth Wall, I am having fun mocking the latest tonsorial abomination to take up residence on his head. Memo to whomever is doing George Eads's hair: cut the bangs. Cut them now. I distinctly recall reading some frightfully overpriced hairdresser, Garren or someone, talking about how men with square jaws can't carry off bangs, and he's right. Anyway, Nicky gibes, everyone has a good chuckle over how Gil will react to their probable criticisms, and Gil moves on to the time-honored tradition of giving people their assignments. First crime scene: kid found dead in the parking lot of the Monaco Casino -- site of a few past CSI scenes, if I'm not mistaken -- two days before the Super Bowl. Oh -- so we're dealing with late January. I take back what I said about the prisoners some thousand words back; Las Vegas is quite temperate in January. They're fine.
Anyway, back in the present, Warrick offers to work the case and is smacked down; Nicky and Catherine, neither of whom have displayed any depth of knowledge when it comes to Vegas's gambling industry, will be working the case. Warrick and Sara will be working the Frank Damon case with Gil. "How did he find you?" Sara wonders. "Did he dial 1-800-Grissom?" No, because if you dial that, you get a message telling you the number has been disconnected. See the lengths I go to in my recaps? Anyway, Catherine notes that Conrad Ecklie -- supervisor of the day shift and all-around creep -- was the original CSI on the case. "Can a CSI take over another CSI's case?" muses Warrick, who's evidently solved the tree-falling-in-the-woods and which-came-first-the-chicken-or-the-egg questions and moved on to deeper philosophical territory. It turns out that CSIs of equal rank can, in fact, horn in on each other's cases. Catherine continues to prophesy dark outcomes on this case, and Gil puts a stop to her sniping by saying, "There's no trouble. We're both searching for the truth." Everyone rolls their eyes at Gil's naivete and resumes needling him for his lack of supervisory savvy.