Pushing Daisies

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Al Lowe: A+ | Grade It Now!
Fat Man in a Little Coffin
Emerson comes in for a little ice cream and gets accosted by Olive, who wonders, figuratively speaking, if it's wrong to want to set someone on fire. Emerson regards her suspiciously. "You thinkin' of setting someone on fire?" he asks. No, no, Olive assures him, it's all figurative. "But," she adds, "figuratively speaking, someone ought to set you on fire for throwing my heart under the bus when you told me he didn't want me!" Emerson retorts that that bus was the Truth Bus. Olive disagrees. "That wasn't the Truth Bus," she pouts. "That was the Bitchy Crosstown Express." Aw! I take that bus every morning to work! 410 Bus to Lindbergh Station represent! Shouts out to Hair Curlers Lady, Sociopathic Driver, and The Guy Who Smells Like Chicken Broth, Always. When Emerson claims he was just being frank and honest, Olive snits that she, in fact, never wants to hear anything frank and honest, "so let's just take it off the docket." But, frankly and honestly, she adds, she doesn't like Chuck. Emerson, JD drones, likes Chuck even less. Cut to the reason why: Chuck is once again horning in on Emerson's Dead Person of the Week meeting with Ned.

It seems Emerson has come upon a new and mysterious death, but since he cannot get the details out over Chuck's interrupting, and because he wants to keep it private from her anyway, Chuck fills time by postulating on the many ways this unknown person could have died. Did he drown in his bed but the sheets were all dry? With a noose around his neck? Was it a four-stage poison where he had to touch four things before the poison worked? All of this is charming, of course, but Ned's eyebrows are alarmed. "You're obsessed," he tells her. Chuck: "Really? Do you think dying has made me morbid?" I am not loving Chuck right now, and neither is Emerson. When Ned asks again how the person died, Emerson suggests he take a coupon for this conversation and redeem it for another date. "I want to use my coupon now," Ned says, but Emerson won't go for it. "There's someone in the county fridge I need you to talk to," he snarks, and shoving Chuck out of the booth, he leaves, saying most definitely that Chuck had better not come. I rewound this nine times to watch Chi McBride get all bitchy. He is excellent.

The next day, at the morgue, our beloved coroner discusses the importance of hand moisturizer with Emerson. "No one wants the last thing they've been touched with," he says, "to be ashy and dry." He holds his hands out. "Take a gander," he says, before making Emerson lube up his own hands. Where the hell has this coroner been all our lives? The guy is so brilliant, it is painful. Suddenly, Ned and Chuck appear in the doorway. "I thought you just came by to say hello," the coroner says accusingly. Somehow, however, the team gets past him, and now they stand before the sheeted body of Today's Dead Person. "You won't even know I'm here," Chuck tells the angry Emerson. He snorts. "'Cause you leavin?" he asks. No, she's not leaving, Ned says, because participating in these activities makes her happy. (It also makes her terribly cute with her little retro wardrobe of gorgeous dresses.) Emerson smirks, again. "You remember what that happiness looks like," he says, nodding toward the corpse under the sheet. "Redeem your coupon." Smiling, Ned steps toward the body. "Oh," Emerson says. "Now you're gonna listen to me." Suddenly, Ned is worried. He hesitates. "I ain't gonna say another word," Emerson says, when Ned looks suspiciously around at him. "Future Me is gonna I-told-you-so up one side and down the other; but Now Me is just gonna sit back and watch."

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Pushing Daisies




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