Which features Ruth, finding a box of mousetraps deep in the back of a kitchen cabinet she's cleaning. There doesn't seem to be any Ecstasy or any other illicit substances in there along with them, so I'll just go ahead and move on yet again.
Down in the Body Shoppe (StC = 435), Claire is explaining to Rico that she'll have to quit her "job" doing runs for them because she's been given "an amazing opportunity to learn from Olivier Castro-Staal, and maybe even help him with his art." Of course, by "help him with his art," she actually means "fend off his sweaty and pretentious advances while he waxes philosophical on the vast discography of Corey Hart." Rico doesn't exactly hide his lack of disappointment with this turn of events, claiming that they have "enough actual employees" at Fisher & Diaz, and therefore shouldn't have to pay anyone extra to do work for them. Um, I hate to burst your bubble there, Rico, but technically speaking, Fisher & Diaz doesn't have ANY employees. You're all partners, remember? Claire hands over a big box of bones before she goes, saying that she just picked them up from the coroner and that they belong to one "William Jaffe." Oh, now that hurt. I mean, really. Would it have killed her to throw the middle name in there? I'm not asking for much here, people! And to think that I was all set to hook the TiVo up to my computer so that I could digitize her dulcet tones whispering my name and run it all day on an endless loop over my portable mp3 player. "Aaron [click] Aaron [click] Aaron [click] Aaron…"
Heh. And you people think Russell might be a stalker. Please. That kid is bush-league at best. Oh, and feel free to insert your own "Say my name, bitch!" American Pie joke here.
Later that day, Rico has gathered his fellow "employees" together in the office to pitch a new idea: hiring an apprentice. "We were saving some by using Claire," he explains, "but we can save serious money with an apprentice. I crunched the numbers." "You can crunch numbers?" asks David. "Of course I can," replies Rico. "This week's StC, for example, is the lowest score for the season, and significantly below your all-time median of 754. Also, while your Fk coefficient has remained roughly steady all year, there has been a highly noticeable decline in both your Δ BS and POT * ∞ values. Looks like someone did some twelve-stepping during the hiatus." Nate doesn't like the idea very much, mostly because he doesn't want yet another person moving into the Fortress, but David seems quite enthusiastic. Ruth, however, interjects herself into the conversation to point out that she's the only one who "will be forced to co-exist with a complete stranger who could kill [her] in the middle of the night." And while that is a good point, we also shouldn't forget that at least he'd be able to properly embalm her afterwards. That's got to count for something, right? When she learns that Rico's "projections" indicate that they could save upwards of $10,000 per year, however, she quickly relents, with one simple caveat: "I don't want loud rock music in this house," she blurts. "And if he eats calamari, breaks any of my figurines, or talks about his nipples even once, the deal is totally off!"