Our episode begins with a disclaimer: "Due to adult themes, viewer discretion is advised." This is, of course, the televised equivalent of passing around Forever in the back of the class with the "good stuff" highlighted, i.e. a device designed to spark prurient interest in an otherwise disinterested audience. So now that we're all duly warned, let's get to the good stuff.
After a desultory series of shots meant to remind us that a) we're in Las Vegas, and b) the city experiences the same "night" phenomenon so many of us take for granted, but c) a lot of neon helps to hold back the forces of darkness. Then we see a crowd of people preparing to go party, but the security force at the door is standing between them and a good time. As person after person patiently submits to someone waving a handheld metal detector, we see that they've sped the process along by helpfully not wearing a lot of clothing that needs to be searched. One woman in short-shorts sets off the metal detector as it hovers in the vicinity of her crotch, and when the security guard looks up inquiringly, she snits, "My kitty's pierced. Wanna see?" This is CBS, so we can't. We then see her sashaying into the main event -- a big room filled with scantily-clad pretty people dancing to bad house music where a DJ intones, "Let the foam take you away to your deepest desires." Like clean dentures? No more carpet stains? Tidy tile -- oh, wait, that comes with the tiny scrubbing bubbles. My error. The irony here is that none of these people dancing through clouds of foam look like they're even aware of housework as a concept, much less as an activity where it's more than possible to be up to your elbows in foam. The DJ intones, "Cleanse yourself. There's no turning back now." Much lascivious bumping and grinding as the foam clouds rain down. A young man with a goatee tries to grin seductively, ends up looking foolish, kisses a woman, then dives into a cloud of foam, presumably to continue his activities with/to/on her away from the watchful eyes of the network censors. The party rages on until a blonde emerges from the foam and begins screaming loudly enough to stop people's cleansing activities.
Cut to the body lying face-up on the floor of the empty, still-foamy room; although the clouds of bubbles have deflated, the heavy scum remains. Gil goes down the stairs and walks over to the body as Brass asks, "You ever been to a foam party?" "What do you think?" Gil replies. Brass declines to answer; he knows Gil's a man of hidden depths. Instead, he says, "Things can get pretty wild." Gil looks down at the body and deadpans, "Evidently. You got an ID on this guy?" Captain Exposition says, "Yeah. The deceased was Trey Buchman, age 21." Gil asks about witnesses, and Brass says, "There was too much foam. The party was over; most of the responsible young adults had split." Gil notes, "It's amazing how the sight of blood can clear a room." Brass points out that he's got the girl who discovered the body, but she's not going to be too useful even if she sobers up. Gil's already moved on. He hunkers down beside the guy, observes all the blood staining the foam around his head, and wonders what made the puncture wound in the guy's neck. Any guesses as to which vein or artery got hit? My money's on the jugular. Brass tosses out a guess (ice pick), then points out that they can probably dismiss money as a motive, what with the $3000 found on the body. Gil says, "Proves the old adage." Brass realizes they're moments from the credits, and resigns himself to setting up the pre-credits zinger: "What adage is that?" "You can't take it with you," Gil replies.