The husband was less a child hater and more into delusional disorders as that was his specialty. Jane spots a piece of latex in the husband’s watchband. Maura goes Islesopedia and immediately begins to discuss the various uses of latex. Balloons, pencil erasers, spandex, dental dams. Hey, just being thorough.
In the autopsy room, the medical examiners are having some sort of penis size measurement contest disguised as a bullet hole size recognition discussion. Dr. Achey Breaky BlackHat astutely notes that Dr. Popov doesn’t know his butt from a hole in the ground. Then Pike unveils his new “particle vac,” which promptly malfunctions. That’s OK, I hear it happens to guys all the time.
Frankie is helping Mama R take groceries out of her new BEAUTIFUL TOYOTA. Except her Toyota isn’t exactly as beautiful as we might have hoped. Instead it’s a driving, talking, advertisement for Can’o Espress’o. Complete with an enormous loudspeaker Can’o of it on her roof. She then promptly does that adorable mom thing and tells everyone in a three-block radius over the loudspeaker how handsome Frankie looks in his uniform. You’ve gotta love moms.
Then Mama R’s BEAUTIFUL CAN’O gets slammed into by a not-so beautiful piece of crap’o car. A very frazzled, very sad, very pregnant lady gets out all, “It’s just a scratch.” And then proceeds to cry and talk about her parking tickets. Frankie picks one up and realizes the woman is Lydia, Papa Rizzoli’s fiancé. Well, apparently ex-fiancé. She got dumped, lost her job and kicked out of her apartment all while seven months pregnant. Now she lives in her car. I want to dislike her, but that’s a lot of life kicking you in the teeth.
Speaking of children, Jane and Korsak are interviewing the kiddie hating doctor’s least biggest fan. She has brought her terrible, nose-picking brood with her and Jane says a silent prayer in thanks that she is a Maurasexual. The woman didn’t kill the doctors because she was too busy attending the “Wives Are About Kids” meeting. Which, ugh. But she does get in a good compliment about Jane’s waistline. Even the breeders can’t resist the swag of Det. Sexy McBadass.
In the autopsy room, Jane walks in to see how Maura is doing with the doctor couple. She’s there all alone, because she had to get away from Pike. And then she tells Jane she thinks he is on the take and using his position to privateer. Jane asks if he’s attacking foreign ships during wartime, which, snort. Jane is all, that’s all very nice and good but two dead bodies, please open them up and poke inside. Maura will not be deterred. She’s convinced he’s getting kickbacks for his forensic vacuum. And she’s disgusted by the hats and pens and travel mugs and things. That, she says, are “swag.” Jane says she’ll get the “Swag Unit” on it and all gay ladies’ pants fall off.
Jane implores Maura to get back to the case, which she does. She asks Jane to, “help me undress her,” which would be the start of a really excellent three-way fantasy except for the whole necrophilia thing. Maura wonders how people can be childless and have a fulfilling marriage. And Jane says with or without kids marriage is miserable. I know it’s still horrible that same-sex marriage isn’t legal nationwide, but there’s no need to be bitter, Janey.
Jane tells Maura she’s starting a new organization called S.A.W., Stuck at Work. Maura needs to get on it so Jane can get on her at home. You know that’s what she was thinking. Then Jane gets another weird text from her mystery texter, this time saying, “Hon, don’t forget your Brazilian wax appointment.” Maura smiles, knowingly.
Jane mentioned that Frankie met Lydia today and Maura, being unable to lie, promptly drops a shell casing. Jane knows a case of the butterfingers means something and presses her on what she knows. She even picks up something sharp and pointy to threaten his girlfriend with. Threats of physical violence are minus 100 Good Girlfriend points, Jane. Maura folds and tells her what she knows, which is that Tommy also slept with Lydia. The news does not go over well.