We cut back to the squadroom, where Ray is chillaxing before spending some quality time with Charlton Heston. Gene emerges from his office and wants to know where the others are. Gene tells him, "Tyler got a lead on the dead fairy and went to chase it." Gene asks why Ray didn't go along, and Ray says, "Eh, you know. What's one less rocket-lover in the world?" For some reason, this sets Gene off: "So he's a fruit fly! You know what's worse than a fruit fly, Ray? A murderer! There's nothing lower than a murderer! So what's the difference who the victim was? No man has the right to take another man's life." So Gene's anti-death penalty then? Anyway, Ray has messed up, and once again, Sam has emerged from the midden heap smelling like a rose.
Back in the park, Chris's complaints about nothing happening are interrupted by a beating from three guys. Sam and Annie sprint from their hiding spots and leap to Chris's defense: Annie hops on one guy's back while Sam wades in and begins flinging people around. He soon pulls his gun and has all three youthful bigots on their knees, hands behind their heads.
Back in the interrogation room, Chris, Sam and Gene are settling down for a nice chat with the three young men who beat down Chris in the park. Gene says, with surprising mildness, "Look at my guy. Look what you did to his face. He's a beautiful boy. Look at him now." Except the guy sort of can't, because Gene has decided it's more important for the shaggy-haired kid to look at the tabletop. From a distance of half an inch. Warming up to his subject, Gene continues, "Let me remind you that the murder victim is a decorated Viet Nam vet." He backhands the second subject and the kid goes down with a meaty thud. By this point, the third kid is trembling in anticipation of whatever beatdown he'll get. The slapped kid defends his gay-bashing with "He was a perv and a queer." Gene replies, "Which, in your mind, means he didn't have the right to a long and happy life. And his son didn't have a right to have his daddy." Slappy protests, "We like to mess those guys up. They're disgusting, okay? But we didn't kill anybody. We're just having fun, all right?" Gene gives Slappy a delighted grin and chortles, "So am I!" Then he takes the guy out with a punch to the jaw. I suppose I should be outraged by all forms of police brutality, but I'm willing to make exceptions. Gene spitting on the now-downed Slappy more or less demands it.
By this point, the blond kid is probably in need of a change of drawers. Sam taps him on the shoulder, and the kid nearly jumps out of his skin. Sam sits down and helpfully points out, "So the thing to remember about prison -- which is where you're going to go if you don't cooperate -- is this: in prison, these things you find so offensive, well, they're an everyday occurrence, perpetrated by big strong men on little skinny men as regular as breakfast. In fact, a typical day in prison goes something like this: breakfast, sodomy, exercise yard, sodomy, lunch, sodomy, arts and crafts, sodomy, dinner, major sodomy --" Gene interrupts him to ask, "Detective Tyler, what is the difference between sodomy and major sodomy?" Sam deadpans, "Major sodomy has a big kissing component." The blond guy breaks and babbles that he saw it. From his position on the floor, Slappy shouts, "Jimmy, you don't gotta tell these guys nothing." As Gene slams a chair down on Slappy, he comments, "Neither do you." Jimmy explains that he saw two men in the park -- our deceased veteran and a mystery man -- and after a brief lover's tiff, the second man beat Robert to death with his bare hands. Sam's hung up on why the murderer didn't also kick Robert, then asks, "When the killer ran away, was there anything funny about the way he ran off?" Why, yes -- the guy had a serious limp.