So now the plan must be to get the goods on both Veronica and the doc. Back at the house of detection, the presence of Mrs. Cod has made it possible for Emerson and his mother to return to their tried-and-true method of "KalashniCod," named for its eerily similar qualities to the rapid-firing of Kalashnikov's finest. "Who's Joe's best friend?!" they both aggressively shout at the two suspects, who both raise their hands to claim the title. "We have it on good authority Joe's BFF made him RIP," Emerson says, wagging an accusing cigar. "Who wants the title now?" The two swiftly point to the other. "Did givin' him the stab-stab make you feel good?" Emerson asks before demanding the facts. "I'm no suspect," Veronica says. "I hired you!" Dr. Eugene feels the same and wants his money back. Oh, but Emerson doesn't give refunds to people who waste his time. He knows they're hiding something. "What is it?!" he and his mom ask in unison with a threatening desk slap. Fine, Veronica says, she'll tell him the dirty, humiliating truth. Their friend Joe was a "frescort." A friend-escort, hired to provide companionship and pretend to be their friend. Emerson wants to know what's wrong with picking a friend the old-fashioned way. "Walkin' up to someone and sayin' 'Hi, my name's Blahdie Blah. Do you like bloohdy-blooin'? I do too. Let's be friends.'" Mrs. Cod says she gets why Dr. Bashful needs a pen pal, but turns her sights on the lusty Veronica. "Back when I had a rack and a couple of getaway sticks like yours," she says, "I had no trouble making acquaintances." Veronica waves her hand over her luscious frame. "Theees," she says, "attracts all kinds." She says she's appears to men only as a score not yet scored, and that "theees" (hand wave over face) promotes eeeenstant jealousy in women. She was all alone, she says, so she called in the professionals. She hands over a business card to Emerson. "My Best Friend, Inc." he reads, and has a brainwave. Joe had said maybe his death had to do with "My Best Friend." Aha!

So, the mission for the team is thus: Olive and Chuck will pretend to be frescort-wannabes, pretending to apply for jobs while searching for Joe's love, Downey. Meanwhile, the boys are off to talk to My Best Friend's CEO. "Any questions?" Emerson asks, but is irritated when Ned raises his hand. Ned wants to partner up with Chuck, instead. He cuts Chuck a cute look, but Chuck shoots him down. See, she and Olive have already come up with awesome back stories and aliases and stuff, soooooo... yeah. And they also have a secret incognito partner's handshake and everything, which includes a lot of finger waving and snaps? Sorry, Ned. You can see why she can't switch now. Upstairs, the fellas meet Buddy Amicus, the anvilly named CEO of the company. He welcomes them to My Best Friend, "where everyone's in the in crowd." Aw. Emerson is not there to make pals, though. But, see, that's Buddy's whole shtick, making pals. He does it as atonement, he says, showing him around his office full of high school hero paraphernalia. He was, he says, a colossal jerk back then, picking on the weak. "They were just sad, pimply targets for a varsity quarterback like myself," he says, "until two blitzing linebackers destroyed my knee." Suddenly, he says, he was no different from all the nerds he'd put through hell, and he swore he'd use his powers for good -- providing people, for a nominal fee, with friendship. As Buddy explains to Emerson that Joe's frescort records are confidential, Ned looks around and spies "the hug machine," which appears to hilariously be a rainbow patterned tackling dummy with arms. To distract Buddy so that he can steal Joe's file, Emerson suggests Ned receive a demonstration of the hug machine. "The Piemaker did not want to be hugged by a machine," Jim Dale says. "He wanted to be hugged by the one he was lonely for." In the background, Emerson sneaks looks at the files, until Buddy turns to look at him, causing Emerson to hug himself in fake camaraderie, nearly slaying me.