Rizzoli gives her an understanding forearm rub and says, “So right, honey. Still crossing my fingers for our brothers and sisters in California. No H8!” What? That’s what I heard.
Rizzoli and Isles flirt over the dearly deceased’s body. They pretend to talk about dumb, grinning Jorge. But instead they make intense eye contact and talk about deer skin. Isles says something about it being soft and tough. Which is also, coincidentally, how she likes her women. And then they notice the club stamp on the victim’s hand which reads “Merch,” Welsh for “girl.”
So, naturally, Rizzoli runs right out to check out this girl club. When there’s a new place to find fresh meat, you don’t waste a second. The bartender is Missi Pyle. She has on a vest and wrist-cuff watch. So on the lesbian fashion stereotypes scale she rates about a 6 out of 10.
She hands them a flyer for some anti-gay group spouting on about depraved sons and daughters being punished for their sins. Also there’s a big crossed-out red circle over a picture of two girls kissing. Rizzoli turns dramatically to the camera and calls this case a hate crime.
Back at the precinct Rizzoli brings in the leader of the adorable hate group Sons & Daughters of Adam. He is bald with a ponytail, and that’s really all you need to know about him. He pulls out a list of his membership, which is thicker than a phonebook. So, in case you’ve forgotten, a lot of people hate us. And those people have terrible Photoshopping skills.