Cute. Though Olive is my fave, there can't be any denying the cuteness of Chuck. Anna Friel is just beautiful, though I thought Olive had pretty much sewn up the itty-bitty sidekick role. In any case, Emerson needs a sidekick and agrees to take on the Alive-Again Avenger with one caveat: since they no longer have Ned's powerful finger mojo, the game is now entirely different. "This game," he says, "is all about the hustle." Chuck: "Oh, I love the hustle."
At the scene of the crime, Chuck notes a faint tinge in the air of... something. "It smells like Aunt Lily on a Sunday," she says, correcting that actually it smells like "Mom" on a Sunday. Emerson says it is single-malt scotch, something he could use a shot of right now, and looks on with pursed lips as the (awesome, beloved) coroner works to thaw the ice of the fountain which has entrapped Erin Embry in her watery grave. He's using a hair dryer, complete with diffuser, and it is slaying me. Damn you ABC and the economy and whomever or whatever else is responsible for separating us from this amazing and beautifully-made show. A hair dryer. Seriously, there are tears in my eyes. Emerson runs down what must have happened -- this Erin Embry, still in the holiday spirit (for this was shot to originally run last winter), got all drunked up and Gene-Kelleyd her way around the fountain until she slipped in, bumped her head and died, preserved in ice when the temperatures dropped overnight. Now that he's seen it in person, he feels like it was obviously an accident and declares that there is no case to be had. "But" Chuck says, "I'm not done with the hustle!" Emerson: "Well, you gon' be dancin' by yo-self."