While I was making inexcusable generalizations about TV shows I like (and also about Family Guy), Chuck slips on some debris and falls in slow motion. While she's on her way down, maybe she should think about the fact that this is a crime scene that should be sealed off to civilians, but I don't think we need to worry about such real-life facts on a show so fanciful it's about to carry us off to a windmill farm (spoiler!). Anyway, Ned recoils to avoid touching her, leaving Chuck to fall into the arms of the man we're meant to believe is Conrad. She thanks him profusely and asks if he lives in this apartment, and Conrad charmingly tells her he should cancel the maid tomorrow. They regard some hideous blue and white plates sitting on shelves, and Chuck celebrates the fact that his "collection of nautical plates survived," just as the shelves collapse and the plates crash to the floor. Touch them, Ned! Bring them back to life! Maybe some other shitty dollar store plates next door will get what's coming to them after a minute, but if you're going to take the time to build a shelf to display your plates, well, those are some pretty nice plates. Ned clears his throat awkwardly and tells Chuck that the ambulance is leaving, but she tells him that she is going to stay and help the poor man with the plane in his living room and the gorgeous broken plates. Emerson unwhispers "We got a dead guy to talk to," and hustles Ned out the door.

The facts were these: Bradan Caden (rhyming name...Quirk Alert!) was a fifty-three-year-old crop duster whose plane crashed into the aforementioned building. Less than seventeen minutes later, his death was ruled a suicide and his life insurance policy rejected with a big-ass rubber stamp reading "SUICIDE." Working in the Depressing Cause Of Death Factory where those stamps are made must be an uplifting career.

Meanwhile, at The Only Morgue In Town, Ned and Emerson get all George and Jerry about Ned's approach to courtship, as Ned tells Emerson, "Did you see the way [Conrad] swept in there...I don't sweep. I'm not a sweeper." Well, George, some people are sweepers. And if there's one thing about those people I know for sure, it's that they have tons of hand. Ned frets that he can't catch the woman he loves, and Emerson responds in kind: "You can't suck on her toes, neither." With which this sequence becomes way less George and Jerry and way more Vincent and Jules talking about the moral implications of giving Marcellus Wallace's wife a foot massage.