McNulty and Freamon stroll into the Southern District HQ in order to eyeball the shift roster. Freamon looks at the list, see the name of one of his old patrol partners, and off he and McNulty head to find Officer Oscar Requer.

Anyhow, wherever Oscar is holed up, it's apparently out in the middle of nowhere, so McNulty drives, while Freamon puts his miniature-making skills to work on a set of false teeth. "That there is the sickest idea yet," McNulty says of Freamon's fake teeth. "I'm just gilding your lily, son," Freamon replies. I guess the teeth figure into their let's-make-like-there's-a-serial-killer-on-the-loose plan. Me, I'll just take the time to remember those halcyon days when Lester Freamon used to pontificate on what it meant to be good police. Yeah, yeah, I know this is supposed to show how the inadequacies of the system drive good men (or in McNulty's case, chaotic good) to bend the rules and cross assorted lines, and it's a fine narrative, it really is. But to have Lester go from waxing rhapsodic about how much he loves digging through evidence to build up a case to enthusiastically agreeing to doctor crime scenes over the span of two episodes feels...abrupt. And since parallels seem to exist between Templeton's fabrications and McNulty's (and now Freamon's), I don't see how you can be indignant about the former while excusing the latter. Anyhow, McNulty and Freamon finally find Oscar, sleeping in his patrol car in some alleyway, and besides, the oxygen is getting a little thin on top of this soapbox anyhow.

Oscar, by the way, is played by Roscoe Orman, whom Children's Television Workshop aficionados will recognize as Gordon from Sesame Street. I'm hopeful that in between participating in this stupid fake-serial-killer scheme, he can also help to teach McNulty and Freamon about letters and numbers, not to mention the importance of cooperation. Anyhow, Freamon rousts Oscar out of his patrol car, they exchange pleasantries, and Freamon introduces McNulty. "You look like a man in the market for a new house," says Oscar, who apparently sells real estate in his off-hours. "Think about it. It's a buyer's market." Oh, please let him successfully sell McNulty a townhouse just downstairs from a couple of pals and across the street from a dude who lives in a trash can. The crossover possibilities are endless. Anyhow, what Freamon and McNulty are looking for is a body -- "male, homeless, little or no decomp," Freamon says. Oscar figures that shouldn't be too much of a problem for a pair of homicide detectives. Ah, but here's the catch -- Freamon and McNulty need to get to the body before anyone else does. Once he wraps his brain around the fact that someone wants to add to the number of homicide investigations in Baltimore, Oscar agrees to keep an eye out. "You want to know why?" asks McNulty, just itching to tell someone. Oscar shakes his head no. Wise man, that Gordon.