For his part, Emerson has grown tired of this group grief session, and steps in to question Randy, who says he was not aware of Joe's real profession, but thought that he tutored "special folks," or something. Emerson is suspicious, mostly because David Arquette is cute and weird, and eases his way down a back hall to try to sniff around some more. Randy, however, makes sure he is unable get into the back room, causing Emerson to frown like his namesake fish and leave.

Talking it over at the Pie Hole with the full team, Calista agrees with her son. "Randy's a nutjob name," she says, immediately offending Ned. "Randy's a fun guy's name! You'd grab a beer with Randy; grill a brat with Randy; pick up chicks with Randy..." Emerson: "And help stuff 'em into Randy's freezer with Randy." Heeee. Ned is mad. "Can you be a little nice? His roommate died!" But Emerson won't budge. "Did you see how nice and crazy behind the eyes he got when I tried to get into that back room? What's he hiding back there?" Ned says maybe Randy's private. Yeah, in fact, he goes on, nobody's ever seen Emerson's back room! Nobody's ever even seen his front door! "Where do you live, anyway?" Olive and Chuck agree: Emerson is very private. Calista shrugs, saying he didn't get it from her. "Look," Emerson cuts in, bringing the show to its peak of greatness for the week. "My heezy ain't none of y'all's beezy." Randy, he says, is shady and he's going to get back into the apartment at the first opportunity. Chuck reports that she and Olive may have hit a dead-end trying to find Downey -- the frescort service even has a policy that frescorts can't date each other, so they still don't know if Downey is even there.

They are interrupted from a call outside the window. It's Randy! He's fallen for the old Emerson trick of supplying a Pie Hole coupon to a suspect in order to draw them out of the house, and has come to see Ned for a pie baking lesson. "I brought along offal!" he says, causing Olive to spit out a mouthful of apple crumble. "For meat pies," Ned says, by way of explanation. Chuck can't take it. "So 'awful,' like this idea! I am not leaving Ned alone with Backroom Randy," she says. "This place is full of freezers, perfect for body-stuffing!" Emerson puts the kibosh on her complaining, tells her and Olive to "get to frescortin'," sends Ned to the kitchen with Randy and tells his mom it's time to go break into Randy's place. Calista, however, shuts him down when her beeper goes off. "My target's on the move," she says, referring to her fraud case. "Well, can't it wait?" Emerson whines, all sad. "I thought we were gonna get a chance to talk and catch up while we were tossing that apartment!" Ah, the complex relationship between working parents and their sons. Please pause while I sing a revised version of Cat's in the Cradle. Emerson's face falls as JD tells us that the weight of the secret he was keeping was so heavy, he felt he'd soon be crushed. "And so, he entered the apartment of a suspected killer with a different death in mind," Jim Dale says sadly, "that of his and his mother's friendship." Putting aside his own troubles, however, he quickly finds an invoice from My Best Friend, proving that Joe was a frescort to none other than Randy. On the trail now, he sneaks into the backroom only to immediately encounter a huge, menacing figure. Turning on the light, however, he finds it's a taxidermied bear. In a tutu. Surrounded by a variety of other taxidermied wildlife, up to and including a wedding scene between a rabbit and what appears to be a tree bat? I don't know, because I am laughing too hard. "Holy Noah's Nutty as a Fruitcake Ark," Emerson says, with a considerable shudder, and I smile, thinking of my own mother, who regularly and skillfully employs "nutty as a fruitcake" as an effective insult. Thing is, the rabbit/bat nuptials weren't nearly the nuttiest thing to be found at Backroom Randy's. In a jar on the counter, labeled Joe, is what can only be a preserved human internal organ! AAAIIIIEEE!