Bones (2005–2017): Season 11, Episode 4 - The Carpals in the Coy-Wolves - full transcript
Brennan enlists help in the investigation into the death of a real estate agent.
(birds singing)
Oh, my God,
oh, my God, oh, my God.
What is it? You see a deer?
No.
I forgot to DVR
Fashion Runway tonight.
Brad, just focus
on your landmarks.
We'll be back home
before your show.
Oh, thank God,
'cause Jasmine's two-tone
sundress last week
was so fierce.
I can't wait to see
what she does next.
You know,
other kids your age
aren't into that kind of stuff.
What are they into?
Like, fishing,
video games.
I mean, I'd be okay
if you were into books
and stuff, instead.
Oh! I read the Diane
von Furstenberg biography.
I don't know
who that is.
And you're growing
up real fast,
and if you want to
be a man someday,
you're gonna have to act
like one.
(high-pitched scream)
(screaming)
(cocks rifle)
You okay, Dad?
(low whimpering)
So you really like it?
The best thing
you've ever written.
Really?
Because...
all of my books
are quite excellent.
Yeah, but this one,
this is a page-turner.
Plus, the cliffhanger
at the end? (snaps fingers)
Bravo.
Cliffhanger?
What do you mean?
Well, you know,
with Agent Andy all shot up.
I can't wait to find out
how you're gonna bring him back.
Agent Andy was shot
directly through
the sternum with a .45.
Yeah, I know.
But he's a tough guy.
Booth, he's dead.
You can't kill Agent Andy.
Okay?
Agent Andy cannot die.
You wrote him based on me.
He was based on you.
Exsanguination is the
official cause of death,
although some
coroners will say
it's cessation of
brain functions.
I can't believe
I'm hearing this.
(phone ringing)
You can't kill Agent Andy.
That is my character,
who is based on me
and you can't just kill him.
Oh, a body was found
in the Blue Ridge
Mountains.
But this whole Agent Andy thing
isn't over yet.
No, Booth,
death is very final.
What?
Come on, Booth. It's not you.
Okay, are you coming or not?
(indistinct radio chatter)
(siren wailing)
(camera shutter clicking)
Bones, look,
all I'm asking
is if this is
the final draft or not.
Booth, I'm not changing it!
(groans)
Wow, you guys really hit the
ground running this morning.
BOOTH:
Yeah, well, you know what?
There's a lot
to hash out when your wife
is plotting your own murder.
Ah! It's not you, it's
a fictional character.
Yeah, okay.
BRENNAN:
And it's not plotting
if he's already dead.
Booth is upset
that Agent Andy
gets killed in
my latest book.
No way!
See?
Thanks for the spoiler alert.
Murdered.
Well, there's heavy
predation everywhere.
The victim was a big meal
who was wrestled over.
BOOTH:
Okay, great.
What are we saying here?
Coyotes? Let's move it along.
The bite pattern
indicates coyotes,
but the size
of the bites is much bigger.
This is the work
of coyote-wolf hybrids.
Coywolves are as
versatile as coyotes,
but like wolves,
they're apex predators.
They migrated down...
Coywolves, bad.
Got it. Thank you.
Based on the heart-shaped
pelvic inlet
and the granular appearance
on the pubic surfaces,
the victim is
a white male in his 30s.
Actually, a faceless
white male in his 30s.
Maybe his wife or editor
shot him in the face.
Just saying.
Actually, the hunters
who found the body
shot the skull at close range
with a 12-gauge.
Wow. So you're saying his face
exploded all over
the ground here.
Angie's got her work
cut out for her.
There's no blowfly larvae,
which means
the victim died within
the last 24 hours.
Interesting.
Interesting? Really?
The blowflies? Because...
No, not the bugs.
Interesting that
the victim's clothes,
they're all shredded up,
but for the most part,
they're all here.
Except for the shoes.
I see tissue
on the posterior plane
of the right metatarsals.
And the soles of the feet
look tender, not calloused.
So we're not dealing
with a barefooted hiker.
This man was definitely
dumped here.
Which means our faceless friend
here was murdered.
Just like Agent Andy.
Just saying.
Right?
I'm gonna go this way.
You can collect all your face.
(camera shutter clicking)
Wow. Well, you guys
weren't kidding
about the faceless skull.
Dr. Hodgins is sifting
through the topsoil
to find the rest
of the facial bones.
Good, 'cause I'm not gonna
get an ID without them.
Lucky for me,
there's enough brain tissue
to run a tox screen.
Dr. Wells, please note
the impact fractures
to the manubrium
and the right humerus.
Oh, I've already
noted those.
The plotting indicates
blunt force trauma
with a heavy,
rounded object,
consistent with slamming
into a tree.
And before you even ask,
remodeling suggest
that the injury
took place
two years ago.
Dr. Wells, is everything okay?
You seem....
Even douchier than usual.
SAROYAN:
I was going to say
on edge.
I am not concerned with
Dr. Wells' attitude.
Good.
BRENNAN:
If it continues,
he is easily replaceable.
In fact, I've already enlisted
the help of
an additional intern.
Dr. Brennan, you didn't
clear this with me first.
BRENNAN:
Trust me.
Dr. Beth Mayer's brilliance
as a forensic anthropologist
is unrivaled.
With the exception of myself,
of course.
This new intern,
she isn't hot, is she?
You say "hot"
like you would prefer "hideous."
BRENNAN: Dr. Mayer has
exceptional bone structure
and perfect facial symmetry.
WELLS:
Great.
Now I have to deal
with another gorgeous,
intelligent woman.
BOOTH: Look, if we're going
to get an ID on this guy,
it looks like our
best lead is gonna
be the injury
he suffered.
Yeah, I'm waiting on
hospital records
for patients that got
into tree-related accidents
around two years ago.
Oh, by the way,
I wanted to offer
my condolences.
Condolences?
Agent Andy.
You're an idiot.
Look, I'm with you. I mean,
Dr. Brennan's books are great,
but you can't kill someone off
and then have one character
solving crimes all by herself.
Time out. Technical.
She's not going to do that.
What do you mean?
She's gonna replace
the character
with a new, younger,
sexier partner.
Well, in that case,
I'm really, really sorry.
Why? It's-it's not your problem.
I don't know.
I mean, a new,
young, sexy partner? Huh?
I'm probably the one
who inspired her
to create the character.
"Agent James"
got a nice ring to it.
Agent James...
(phone rings)
Oh! Look at that.
Hospital records
just came through.
What do we got?
54 people smacked into
trees around that time,
15 of them were white
males in their 30s.
Get that to Cam, will you?
You got it.
Another job well done
by Agent James.
WELLS:
Dr. Hodgins,
I was wondering
if I might assist you
in separating
the facial bones.
Sure, yeah.
I've already given Angela
most of what she needs.
Now I'm just sifting
for any stragglers.
Flotation tanks
are more commonly used
by archeologists
and geologists.
(Wells sniffs)
You filled it
with a solution
of hydrogen peroxide
and water?
That's right.
So the debris will settle
according to weight.
There'll be a layer of soil,
a layer of pebbles...
And a layer of bone.
Then all we have to do is
pick out the bigger rocks,
sticks and leaves.
Very well.
So is everything okay?
Heard you were feeling
a little stressed.
Everything is fine.
All systems
functioning perfectly.
Functioning?
In terms of
my performance.
My performance here at work,
not any other type
of performance.
I'm not talking about my
performance anywhere else.
Oliver, this is
a safe place, okay?
It's just us guys in here.
I-It's nothing. I am simply
dealing with something
that 21 million other men
in the U.S.
are-are dealing with.
It's... it's a common problem,
really.
What's a common problem?
Erectile dysfunction.
Ah. I see.
Yeah, no, I mean,
you have absolutely nothing
to be embarrassed about.
So you have experience
with this, as well?
God, no.
But if I did, you know,
it would be completely normal.
It's confounding,
'cause normally, when
I'm faced with a problem,
all I have to do
is focus on the variables.
But I am not taking medication,
I'm not ill,
I'm not overweight,
I'm not fatigued,
and I don't consume alcohol
regularly.
But the more I try to solve
this particular problem,
the worse it gets.
What problem?
Nothing.
Look at that.
The layers have
settled nicely.
Good.
I was afraid Dr. Wells might
be causing trouble again.
Dr. Saroyan,
I'd like to apologize
for earlier.
I haven't been feeling
myself as of late,
and perhaps I took
my frustration
out on the team.
Apology accepted.
And no hard feelings.
No. None whatsoever.
(muffled laugh)
(coughs)
How's it coming with
the reconstruction?
Oh, not great.
Half the face is done,
but the trouble is,
some of these bone shards
that Hodgins recovered
are so small
that they're
practically dust.
You should try to enlarge
the fragments digitally.
It'll make it easier
to piece them back together.
Dr. Mayer, you're here early.
What can I say?
I drive fast.
Oh, my God.
Your idea is brilliant.
By enlarging
each fragment,
the computer can better find
the contours of each piece.
Wow.
Oh, I'm Angela,
by the way.
Oh.
It's a pleasure
to meet you.
No, the pleasure
is mine.
Especially now
that I get to see
the Angelatron
in person.
MONTENEGRO:
You know about
the Angelatron?
BRENNAN:
Dr. Mayer developed the platform
its graphic simulator
is based on.
MONTENEGRO:
Well, actually,
having created the Angelatron,
I know that platform
was developed by a Dr. Brinkley.
My name at the time.
It was one of my
prior marriages.
Oh. Oh, my God.
Um... how many times
were you married?
Six.
Brinkley didn't last long.
Fantastic lover, though.
Wow, well, this is...
this is an incredible honor.
Oh.
Oh, look!
We have a match.
Justin Ross.
He's a real estate agent
with Franklin Realtors.
Well, Brennan was right.
You're amazing.
No, just experienced.
So, uh, what do you
need me to do next?
AUBREY:
So, all the employees at
Justin Ross's real estate firm
used ID badges
to clock in and out of work.
How late was he
working last night?
9:00 p.m.
9:00 p.m.?
Okay, hello, after hours.
Yeah, only one
other employee
was working that late--
a, uh, Chris Winfelder.
Custodian?
No, he's a temp.
I picked him up while he
was putting up sign posts.
Winfelder's been at
the firm for six months,
which is pretty
long for him.
He usually jumps
from job to job.
I'll have to go find out why
he's bouncing around so much.
He must be, you know, hiding
from someone or something.
You got it.
Oh, they still can't
get that coffee, right, huh?
Mr. Winfelder?
Special Agent James Aubrey.
What's going on?
I-I need
to get back to work.
Well, this shouldn't
take long.
Just need to ask you a few
questions about Justin Ross.
So, the two of you
were both at work
last night after
the office closed.
Yeah, I was working
on a new listing.
Which means that you were the
last person to see Ross alive.
Well, wh-what
do you mean "alive"?
Ross's body was found
this morning in the woods.
He was murdered.
Wow.
Really?
I'm sorry.
I've never been told
someone's dead before.
Can I, like, do that again?
Uh, no.
So, where'd you
go after work?
I went home.
I left after Ross.
That means I can't be
a suspect, right?
Well, you could've easily
just swiped his card,
then waited,
then left yourself out.
Th-this is crazy!
I wouldn't hurt a fly.
Literally,
if there's a fly at work,
I shoo it towards a window
and set it free.
Shooing flies-- got it.
So, you're a saint?
I didn't say that.
But... (stammers)
I didn't kill Ross.
Well, then what can
you tell me?
Ross have any enemies at work?
Maybe a fellow
real estate agent?
He had some enemies
outside of work.
Outside of work where?
In his fantasy league.
"Fantasy"-- you mean
he was a gamer?
No, I'm talking
fantasy football.
He was obsessed.
Killed over fantasy football.
Sounds like a stretch.
No, you don't understand.
I-I overheard threats.
What kind of threats?
I don't know what about,
but they were full-on,
screaming-at-the-top-
of-your-lungs-type threats.
I'm telling you it was
his only life
outside of work.
If you want to find out
who Ross's enemies were,
dig through
his fantasy football account.
Oh, wait a second.
You play fantasy football?
I'm the reigning two-time champ.
It's a 12-team PPR league.
12-team PPR league.
That's exactly what I was in.
Well, before I, you know,
before I...
Booth quit
because he thought it was
a gateway to gambling, so...
(iPad chimes)
Oh, it looks like Angela
got us access to Ross's league.
That's gonna be
tons of information
we're gonna have
to go through.
Lots of transaction logs,
e-mails; not to mention,
all the trash talking
on the message boards.
Oh, I love a good trash talking.
Of course you do.
(laughs)
I-I'm not sure
I quite understand
what fantasy football is.
Oh, you'd love it.
It's a statistical game,
where the members,
uh, form a league,
and then they-they compete
against each other
by drafting
real football players.
Right, and your players,
they earn you points
when they gain yards,
if they catch passes
or they score touchdowns.
Yeah.
But these teams
don't technically exist.
Oh, they take it
very seriously, Bones.
Uh-huh.
Oh, just like you and Agent
Andy-- he doesn't exist,
but you're taking
his death quite seriously.
You're killing Agent Andy?!
But he's your husband.
No, he's just a character.
You know what I think?
You wrote that book
after I quit the FBI.
You killed Andy
when I quit my job.
No, that's absurd.
Also, I'd appreciate it
if we didn't
bicker in front
of Dr. Mayer.
Oh, I don't mind.
But we do have work to do.
Um, check the top post.
Well, it says "Hunting prey."
It's a video.
MAN: How's it feel
to lose the season?
Very funny, guys.
Let's get it over with.
Get what over with?
Well, sometimes, you know,
whoever wins the fantasy
football league, you know,
gets to pick a bad tattoo
for the loser or...
Oh!
Ow! Stop shooting!
Or in this case, the winner
hunts down the loser
with a paintball gun.
BRENNAN:
These look like the same woods
where the victim was found.
Looks like the video went viral.
And this guy became the
laughingstock of his league.
Ow! Ow! Ow!
MAN:
I'm gonna kill you, Justin!
Ow! Ow!
(knocking)
Ashlie Smith.
Special Agent Aubrey, FBI.
Your husband Craig home?
Yeah, what's this about?
I need to ask him
a few questions
about a friend of his
in his fantasy football league--
a Justin Ross.
Maybe you know him?
No, sorry,
but you can follow me.
Craig's in his man cave,
as usual.
So, I take it he spends a lot
of time hibernating in his cave?
If he's not at work,
he's here.
Craig?
I'm in the middle of something.
AUBREY:
Hey, Craig?
FBI. Need to ask
you a few questions
about your relationship
with Justin Ross.
One sec.
Sorry, the league
just got the news.
It sucks.
It's, like,
totally chaotic for us.
"Chaotic"?
The commish says either
someone has
to take over his team
or we have to divvy up his
players to the rest of us.
A man was murdered
and you guys are worried about
who gets his fantasy players?
Yeah, it's sad,
but life goes on.
Saw a video of Ross hunting
you down with a paintball gun.
You got a pretty bad temper
on you.
That stuff in the video
wasn't serious.
It's the camaraderie
of the league.
You said, quote, "I swear
I'm gonna kill you, Justin."
I was getting shot
with paintballs!
Please, settle down.
Is there
anything important
that you might want to tell us?
Now would be a good time.
Okay.
You might want to talk
to Lou Divers.
Lou Divers?
Why would I want to talk
to an NFL starting running back?
Divers stepped out of bounds
on a routine running play
that cost Ross
a fantasy football game.
So, big deal. Doesn't that kind
of stuff happen all the time?
Well, Ross went online
and trash talked Divers
until they got
into an intense Twitter war,
which ended with Divers
paying Ross a visit
right before he got killed.
How do you know that
Divers paid Ross a visit,
unless you were there?
The whole league
knows about it.
Just check Divers'
Twitter account.
This is the last of the bones.
The coywolves munched
some down all right.
We're missing multiple medial
and distal phalanges,
the scaphoid,
the trapezoid, the trapezium,
the hamate and the capitate.
Oh, don't forget
the shattered scapula.
There appears to be a small nick
to the triquetral.
Tangential trajectory
indicates it is a fracture,
however, we won't be
certain what caused it
unless we have
the missing bones.
HODGINS:
You know,
the only way to get them
would be to go into the woods
and track down the coywolves.
Well, normally
I'm not one to endorse
one of your ill-conceived
expeditions.
However, I need those bones.
You should take
Dr. Wells with you.
WELLS:
Oh, no, no, no.
I'd prefer to stay
in the lab.
I'm not really the,
uh, outdoorsy type.
Oh, nonsense.
I can cover for both of you.
Besides, being in nature
will be good for Mr. Happy.
Excuse me?
HODGINS:
Wow.
Do you miss anything?
Not that I'm
confirming anything.
It's okay.
I'm around a lot of older men
with the same issue.
After a while, you can
practically smell it on a man.
Uh, I suppose a little exercise
could prove therapeutic.
MAYER:
Forget exercise!
What you need
is to get out of your head
and go wild.
With your permission, Dr. B?
BRENNAN:
Go.
And if it's any consolation,
Dr. Wells,
I don't smell
anything different about you.
Well, that's
because Dr. Mayer's a lot
more perceptive than you are.
Okay, let's go.
Dr. Brennan kills off Agent Andy
when you're not working,
so you, uh, take
a trip to the range?
More like I have to take the
tactical retesting requirement.
Oh, so the Bureau wants
to know if you still got it?
Yeah, it's just protocol.
Right, so I checked out
Lou Divers' Twitter feed.
Turns out Divers
made multiple threats,
including one that said he was
gonna pay Justin Ross a visit.
Wait a second,
he deleted those tweets.
Exactly, the threats
mysteriously disappeared
a few hours
after Ross was killed.
Right.
Oh, looks like you got
a few cobwebs to dust off.
You missed the killer
by a few inches there, Booth.
Oh, come on,
get with it, Aubrey.
You see, that's
the innocent bystander.
The killer's 30
feet away, Aubrey.
Let's get with
the program, huh?
BOOTH:
So, social media's
a crazy thing.
Isn't it, Lou?
What do you mean?
Well, one minute you're being
praised by millions of fans,
and the next,
you're in a Twitter war
with a fantasy football player.
I-I don't know
what you're talking about.
Online evidence
doesn't disappear
just because you delete it.
DIVERS:
Getting in a Twitter fight's
illegal now?
No, but murder is.
You mean this guy's dead?
Yeah, he was killed
the day that you showed up
to pay him a visit.
You want to tell us why
some no-name fantasy fan's
worth tracking down?
This guy took it too far.
You know, I can
handle the trash talk,
but when you threaten
my wife and kids,
it's taking it
to a whole other level.
So, you killed him and then
you covered your tracks
by deleting the tweets.
No.
I deleted those tweets because
we figured this out in person.
You made up?
Yeah.
I mean, football's
a brutal sport, man,
but I'm not a violent dude.
I just needed to let him know
that those threats
don't play well with me.
And he took that well?
Yeah, he was
remorseful actually.
To be honest with you,
he was in a great mood.
Hmm.
Any idea why?
He was bragging
about some jackpot
that he'd just won.
Something about having
the highest scoring
fantasy player
at every position.
Really?
Yeah, it's, uh,
nearly impossible,
so I imagine that payout
was pretty big.
So, somebody owes
our victim a lot of money.
The injury that caused
the acromion
to shatter was perimortem.
Any idea what caused it?
Not until we get
the missing bones.
Would you like
Dr. Mayer to help you?
I'm currently
making excellent progress
without her.
So... you know, besides,
at her age,
she could use the rest.
Actually she's in Limbo
right now working.
Limbo?
What, um,
what interest could she have
with the remains
of unsolved cases?
Does she think that she can
solve cases that I couldn't?
No, relax, she just thought
the remains were
sorted inefficiently.
No, the remains
are categorized just fine.
Well, she is photographing the
bones of each victim right now
and uploading them
to the Angelatron,
so we have a digital
database of Limbo.
I suppose that could
prove quite useful.
You aren't jealous
or feeling competitive
of Dr. Mayer, are you?
(laughs):
No.
No, I mean, I, what...
I have no reason
to be competitive with her,
so... no.
(chuckles)
Okay.
Just wanted to make sure.
There appears to be a nick
on the anterior aspect
of the scapula
similar to the nature
of the wound found
on the wrist.
We should swab
for particulates.
Well, unfortunately,
we'll have to wait
for Dr. Hodgins
to return from the woods.
I'll let Dr. Mayer know.
She can run the
analysis easily.
Of course she can.
So this is where the
coywolves ate our victim?
Yeah, and these tracks
run northwest.
Coywolves prefer
areas with cover,
like brush or shrubs.
Then that's where we'll go.
Shall we?
Hey, so, out of the lab
and in nature.
Is anything, you know,
awakening in you?
No, and I'm growing
skeptical
that simply being out of
the lab is going to fix my...
Boner problem?
Yes. Thank you.
Unfortunately, the only thing
I feel right now
is tired and hungry.
I haven't eaten anything
since this morning.
Wait a minute.
What is it?
Well, the gut transit
time for canids
is less than
a day, at most.
It's much more rapid
than humans.
So, technically, we're not
looking for coywolves.
No, we're looking
for coywolf defecation.
Coywolves usually defecate
in more conspicuous areas
to mark their
territory.
Like the edge of the woods,
near a trail,
or by a body
of water?
Yeah.
Okay, let's go
towards the river.
Hold on.
We're not gonna need
these tranquilizer guns.
You just shot me.
That was an accident.
Ah! (inhales sharply)
You just shot me!
Okay, chill out.
It's a low dose of Zoletil.
You'll probably be fine.
Probably?!
Definitely.
You'll definitely be fine.
Ah... Oliver!
Come on.
Ah... what?
WELLS:
Just keep moving.
BRENNAN:
According to
the league's Web site,
Ross was owed $15,000
by the commissioner,
Jamie Whetzel.
And now that Ross is dead,
he gets to keep all the money.
(sighs)
Money is always a strong motive.
Oh, so is that why
you killed Agent Andy?
To increase book sales?
Absolutely not.
But now that we're dealing
with the subject
of money and
fantasy football...
I was curious.
Are your endorphin levels
rising?
If you're asking me if I'm
getting the gambling itch,
the-the answer is yes.
Oh.
That was not the response
I was expecting.
Well, I'm never gonna hide
things anymore, Bones.
You know, covering
builds it up inside.
When I get an urge,
I acknowledge it.
I think about the
pros and the cons
that gambling
added to my life,
and then I can let it go.
Hmm.
What does a fantasy football
commissioner do, anyway?
Well, their job
is to put the
league together--
you know, run the draft,
handle the money
and basically, you know,
control the game.
Sounds like a lot of
responsibility for one person.
Which is why you
have to be unbiased
to be a good
commissioner.
They have all the power.
Welcome to Sandwich Hut.
I'm Jamie, what can I get you?
BOOTH:
Answers.
FBI Special Agent
Seeley Booth.
This here is my partner,
Dr. Temperance Brennan.
From the Jeffersonian.
Yes.
FBI?
And a forensic
anthropologist.
This must be about Justin.
Uh, let's talk over here.
You are the all-powerful
commissioner of the league?
I am the commissioner.
I don't know about
"all-powerful."
MANAGER:
Whetzel!
Less socializing, please.
Hey, I'm talking
to the FBI, here!
Watch your tone, Whetzel.
(whistles)
Sorry about that.
So, what was your relationship
with Justin Ross like?
He was a good man
and a valued member
of our league.
It's just devastating
what happened.
I find it coincidental
that he won a fantasy jackpot
right before he was killed.
What are you implying?
What she's saying is that
$15,000 goes
a long way
for somebody who works
at the Sandwich Hut.
I am an honorable commissioner
and I take that very seriously.
In fact, I already
made plans to put
his full 15 grand
towards his funeral costs.
I can show you the invoice.
Where were you
Wednesday night?
Here.
I worked the night shift;
closed the shop.
Are all of the members
of your league
as fanatical as Ross was?
Look, fantasy players have
pulled over to make trades
while driving their pregnant
wives to the hospital.
That's for sure.
One guy was at war
in Afghanistan
and wouldn't retreat from
his post that was being bombed
because he was
in the middle of a draft.
I heard of that guy,
yeah, right.
Commitment
to a league
is what makes it great.
It may also be
what led to murder.
You're right.
Loving the league is no excuse.
What happened is horrible.
MANAGER:
Whetzel!
Let's go!
Should I tell my manager
you guys need me longer?
Please?
Nah, tell you what.
I'm just gonna need
those invoices
from the funeral costs.
That's me.
Okay.
You can get in touch with us
if anything comes up there.
Absolutely.
Right?
MANAGER
Whetzel, how many times:
do I need to tell you?
Guacamole is a dollar more!
I'm sorry, you're right,
you're right.
I'm sorry.
(grunts)
Hey, how's it going?
Oh, there's my baby.
It's slow.
Like honey.
Mmm. Honey is so good.
Are you okay?
Uh, yeah. Oliver shot me
with a tranquilizer gun.
Oh, my God!
No, no, no, I'm fine. I'm fine.
It was an accident,
we're still friends,
his wiener's feeling better,
so it's, uh, it's awesome.
-Angie, did you find anything?
-Yeah, actually.
So I was digging
through Ross's computer
and it looks like Ross
was helping his temp,
Chris Winfelder,
get his house
out of foreclosure.
Oh, my God,
that's so nice of him!
Yeah, not exactly.
They had a last-minute buyer
lined up,
but it looks like
Ross screwed up the deal
by missing an important meeting.
That's so mean of him!
Now, on top of that,
Dr. Mayer found
traces of an aluminum alloy.
-Angie, Winfelder's signs.
-(Wells howling)
They're made of aluminum alloy.
Yeah, yeah.
Exactly.
What is going on out there?
Does Oliver have his shirt off?
(Wells howls)
(laughing):
Yeah.
He thinks he's a wolf.
(laughing)
(Wells howling, yipping)
Oh, oh, oh, oh.
Hey, Angela,
I'm finally out of my head.
I can actually feel
Mother Earth
breathing new life
into me.
Okay.
Ooh, wait a second.
WELLS:
What is it?
Uh, something
on Ross's computer.
He has a Fit-Step account.
WELLS:
It's a digital pedometer
that tracks how many steps
you take every day.
What's the big deal?
I think I took about
seven steps today.
Wait, what's with
the Fit-Step?
It's just weird
that he accumulated steps
after he was murdered.
WELLS:
The latest Fit-Steps
have a GPS.
If the killer took it,
then we can track them down.
Yeah, but it was
accumulating steps
for about six hours
and then stopped.
Oh, my God.
Maybe a coywolf
ate the Fit-Step.
And then he pooped it out.
Like a poop machine...
that poops.
(Hodgins laughs)
So if I can track
the Fit-Step...
Then we can find
the missing bones.
Yeah. I'll send the GPS
coordinates to you.
Hey. Can you please get back
in one piece?
Oh, Angie,
we have a song for you!
No, you have nothing
to worry about.
We're gonna sing you a song.
I've heard the song.
It's not great.
You do the "do-do-do" part.
♪ Do-do-bee-do-bee-do. ♪
WELLS:
We're gonna go look
for wolf... wolf poop.
HODGES: But I need to just...
(smacking lips)
You lied to me,
Mr. Winfelder.
I don't know what
you're talking about.
Ross screwed you
by sending your house
into foreclosure.
I didn't lie.
I just left that out because
it would've looked bad.
You mean because it
would've given you motive?
That's not what I meant.
Must have made you pretty
angry to lose that house.
Been in your family
three generations.
Of course it did, but...
You couldn't stand the fact
that Ross missed
the last-minute meeting
with a potential buyer
because he was too distracted
by fantasy football.
You're right
that I couldn't stand him,
but fantasy football
isn't why he screwed me over.
What do you mean by that?
He missed our meeting
because he was busy with a lady.
Okay, so Ross had a girlfriend?
Maybe a girlfriend.
It felt a little shadier
than that,
the way they would sneak around
and close the blinds
in his office during lunch
and everything.
So Ross was having an affair.
You ever meet this woman?
A couple of times.
Her name was Ashlie.
Ashlie Smith?
No clue what
her last name is.
Is that her?
Yeah, I'll never forget her.
She's the reason
I lost my house.
Hey.
Hey. There you are.
Are you okay?
Yeah.
Thankfully,
the tranquilizer
is finally out
of my system.
And you were successful
tracking the Fit-Step?
Yeah, very.
Both the Fit-Step and the bones
were buried in a pile of
defecation, just like I thought.
So, where are the bones?
(platform entry chimes)
Hello, ladies.
Cam.
It's still "Dr. Saroyan."
Yes. Yes, it is.
MONTENEGRO:
Wow, you, uh...
you seem to be feeling better.
Yeah.
Turns out Dr. Mayer was right.
All I needed
was a little fresh air
to get the blood flowing
to the proper areas...
I think we should focus
on the bones.
Yeah. Good idea. Come on.
The sooner we find these bones
and clean them for Dr. B.,
the sooner
we can solve this case.
(exhales)
Oof.
Let's do this!
Uh, it seems like you guys
have a handle on
this situation, so...
Agreed.
MONTENEGRO:
Good luck with that.
AUBREY:
Cheating on your husband
with our murder victim
doesn't look too good.
Make a habit of lying,
Mrs. Smith?
Anyone in my position
would've done the same.
And what position
is that?
My husband hasn't looked at me
in years.
He comes home from work,
goes straight into his man cave,
and plays fantasy football
until he falls asleep.
Is that why you cheated on him
with someone from his league?
To get back at him?
No.
Where were you
on Wednesday night?
I was home.
Husband verify that?
No, he wasn't there.
Where was he that night?
I don't know.
Did he know
about the affair?
Yeah.
We had a typical fight
over him watching
too much football,
and he yelled at me
to back off,
and that's when I told him
I was sleeping with Justin.
And how did he react?
I-I didn't see.
I slammed the door and left,
and the next thing I knew, R...
Ross was dead.
Mrs. Smith,
did your husband
kill Justin Ross?
I don't know.
I mean, I can't imagine
he would, but...
but I don't even know
who he is anymore.
(crying):
Oh, my God...
We have the scaphoid,
the trapezoid,
the trapezium,
the hamate, the capitate,
the phalanges, and the rest
of the shattered acromion,
all clean of
coywolf defecation.
The bones are finally ready
to be re-articulated.
And I finally have my mojo back.
Which should
please Dr. Mayer.
Where is she currently?
Uh, she is updating
the Angelatron's interface.
But we're perfectly
fine without her.
Your lobbying to spend
one-on-one time with me
is quite flattering,
Dr. Brennan.
But, come on, we
have work to do.
Now that we've found
the rest of the acromion,
we can determine what caused
the nick on the scapula.
BRENNAN:
There are two circular pits,
indicating the victim
was stabbed twice
with a cylindrical weapon
with a diameter
of four to five millimeters.
A nail, perhaps?
The angle at which
the weapon
shattered the acromion
would've severed
the subclavian artery.
Which would've caused our victim
to bleed out within minutes.
We have cause of death.
My mojo's not done.
The size of
the circular pits
is nearly identical.
Indicating the stabs were made
with exactly the same force.
Four millimeter diameter,
two stabs with
identical force.
It's quite feasible
that our killer
used a nail gun.
Booth is going to visit
a suspect right now
who works
as a contractor.
I-I'll let him know
immediately.
AUBREY:
All these killings
over loved ones-- maybe
this is why I'm still single.
Look, are we talking
about our suspect
or are we talking
about Agent Andy here?
You're still hung up
on that?
(scoffs)
On what, being killed? Yeah.
Look, maybe
Dr. Brennan was just
going through something
in her writing.
Okay.
That doesn't make
it okay to off me.
Look at the alternative.
I mean, we are headed
to the house
of a neglected wife
who cheated
on her murder-suspect
husband.
Dr. Brennan got it
out through her writing
and you guys
are strong as ever.
(clears his throat)
Still mad, though.
(knocking)
Craig Smith, FBI!
Front door's open,
coming in!
(TV plays indistinctly
nearby)
Craig? Anybody home?
You think he split?
His truck's there.
CRAIG:
Come on!
Okay, man cave.
CRAIG:
Yeah, we'll see
about that, tough guy!
Try it again,
I'll rip your face off!
That's a load of crap!
Just make the trade!
Craig Smith, we need you to
come with us for questioning.
Hold on, I'm in the middle
of a big trade.
BOOTH:
No, no, pal, okay,
put the phone down.
Hang it up, step away
from the computer, let's go.
I only need a few seconds!
Okay, listen, let's go.
Come on, man.
What are you doing?
I'm in the middle of a trade!
Come on.
(grunts)
You have no idea
what you just did!
You might've just
cost me the whole season!
Hey, wait, whoa, whoa,
slow down. Wait a second.
You tried trading
an RB1 for Wallace?
What, are kidding me?
No wonder you came
in last last season.
That's a horrible trade.
Get off me!
Let me go or so help me God!
Whoa, hey, look at that.
There's the temper
that we saw
in the paintball video
in the woods.
And look at that, it's
his trusty nail gun.
Oh.
If you don't let me go,
I'll...
Take my advice.
Whatever you're
about to say, don't.
He'll let you up
once you calm down.
You ruined my trade!
Well, you got
a lot more problems
than a fantasy football
league, pal.
Yeah, like how it drove
your wife into Ross's arms.
Somebody with a temper like
yours must've flipped out
when you found out
that she was cheating on you.
How would you react?
Are you gonna let go now?!
Come on.
(grunts)
In a minute, okay?
So how did you react, huh?
Did you go pay your little
fantasy football kid a visit?
Yeah, but not
to kill him.
So, you just drove
out to see him
to politely ask
for an explanation?
No, I told him
I would forgive him
if he gave me Aaron Rodgers,
his fantasy quarterback.
BOOTH:
Whoa, wait a second.
You wanted him to give you
a quarterback
for sleeping with your wife?!
He's a premium quarterback!
And I deserved him!
You deserve that
and more, Craig.
Take it easy, we couldn't
do the trade anyway.
It was considered collusion.
Right and your little peace
offering didn't go through.
So?
So that means
you still have a motive.
Let's go, pal, come on.
Let's go, come on.
SAROYAN:
Booth has Craig Smith
in custody.
Unfortunately, we still
don't have hard evidence.
Well, I may have found something
in the carpal bones.
There appear
to be puncture wounds
on the trapezium and hamate
similar to those
found on the scapula.
Looks like they were both
caused by the same
cylindrical murder weapon.
But these stabs were inflicted
with much less force.
SAROYAN:
Yeah, and the distance
between punctures
is approximately
three centimeters.
Which means the murder weapon
made two stabs at a time.
So we're looking
for a two-pronged weapon.
(phone dings)
Hodgins just sent results
from the defecation.
It looks like the coywolves
recently feasted on...
Sus domesticus.
They ate pigs?
Perhaps they got into a farm?
No, these pigs
were cured with salt.
I know the murder weapon.
You do?
I see it now as well.
Two prongs,
cured meat.
Dr. Mayer, you should be
the one to call Booth.
(phone beeps)
Good work.
AUBREY:
We found a lot
of angry messages to you
from Ross that were sent
before he was murdered.
That doesn't mean
I killed him.
Commissioners of every league
deal with angry messages
all the time.
You know, you
had every right
to veto that
Aaron Rodgers trade.
I mean, that would've
been collusion.
Any commissioner
would've vetoed that trade.
But that must've been
the last straw for Ross,
who wasn't happy
with you as commissioner.
That's why Ross went to confront
you at the sandwich shop.
BOOTH: And when you didn't
approve the Aaron Rodgers trade,
he was gonna oust you
as commissioner.
You can't prove anything.
That's when a
fight escalated.
You grabbed your
little meat holder there
and stabbed him two times.
How did you...?
BOOTH: Then you dumped
the body in the woods
and you covered it with ham,
so it would attract
the wild animals.
We got your murder weapon,
and evidence that ties
the ham back to you.
Game over, Whetzel.
Yeah, I killed him.
I'm a sandwich artist.
The league is all I had.
Ross wanted
to take that from me.
♪ Time ain't nothing ♪
♪ If it ain't fast ♪
♪ Taking everything ♪
♪ That you ever had ♪
♪ Giving nothing in return... ♪
I never thought I'd say this,
but I thoroughly enjoy hiking.
It's good to be back
at full strength.
Yeah, me, too,
after being tranqued.
Dr. Hodgins, while I appreciate
you helping me get my mojo back,
I fully maintain that you
overreacted to the tranquilizer.
And I maintain
that you shot me.
It's a harmless dart.
Are you really
gonna stand by that?
Yes, it's
a non-lethal dose
meant to relax
40-pound mammals.
Okay, Oliver,
this is your last
chance to take back
that I overreacted.
It was nothing.
Okay.
What are you doing?
Oh, nothing.
I brought this
in case we ran
into some overly
aggressive coywolves,
but now I'm gonna shoot you,
and then we'll be even.
That is
a ridiculous concept.
Oh, don't worry, it's a, uh--
what did you call it?--
a, um, harmless dart?
Dr. Hodgins,
put down the gun.
I think we both know that
you're not going to shoot...
Aah!
Ow!
You shot me!
Don't worry.
It's a non-lethal dose.
(laughs)
This better not reverse my mojo.
Aah!
(camera shutter clicking)
I must admit
this is an extremely
efficient way
to catalogue the remains.
Thank you.
I...
I need to apologize.
Instead of gaining insight
from your years
of experience, I...
I acted in a jealous manner.
Is it too late to seek
advice from you?
Oh, never.
What's on your mind?
Booth thinks
that I was going through
something subconsciously
that caused me
to kill off Agent Andy.
That perhaps I was
angry with him.
And were you?
No.
When I wrote the book, we were
both taking time off work.
It was a period of
complete peace and quiet.
(laughs):
Oh!
No wonder you lashed out.
What do you mean?
Come on.
Gals like us can't stand
peace and quiet.
We need to be challenged.
That's why I loved
seeing you and Booth together.
But all you witnessed
was us bickering.
Yeah, exactly.
Because you pushed each other.
That's the heat
you fell in love with.
And that's the heat
that will keep you together.
Anything else would be...
(chuckles)
Boring.
And when things get boring,
that's when you start
killing characters.
Oh, come on, Dr. Brennan.
What you and Booth have
is special.
Embrace the heat.
It has been an honor
to work with you, Dr. Mayer.
Thank you.
But don't make it sound
like this is it.
I'm not going anywhere.
(laughs)
BRENNAN:
Dr. Mayer has been working
for two more years
than Cam, Hodgins,
Angela and myself combined.
Wow, she is some lady.
(chuckles)
She actually gave me
some insight
into Agent Andy, too.
Oh, you know,
that-that reminds me.
You were right.
Of course I was.
About what?
About not bring back Agent Andy.
That was a good call.
New beginnings for us, right?
Well, actually,
I believe there may be
a way to bring him back now.
Why would you
want to do that?
Booth, you were the one
fighting to keep him alive.
Yeah, you know, but
then I thought about it.
Well, think about it some more.
There are plenty of creative
ways for Andy to survive!
Someone shot to the sternum?!
Okay, come on, do you know
how fatal that is, Bones?
Booth, you're
questioning my knowledge
of an injury to the sternum?
Oh, really, you're questioning
my, uh, gun shots.
Aah!
Stop! No! Don't! Don't!
(laughing):
Stop it, Booth.
Now, stop it.
Yeah, how about that?!
Booth!
(chattering playfully,
laughing)
What's that mean?
Captioned by
Media Access Group at WGBH
Oh, my God,
oh, my God, oh, my God.
What is it? You see a deer?
No.
I forgot to DVR
Fashion Runway tonight.
Brad, just focus
on your landmarks.
We'll be back home
before your show.
Oh, thank God,
'cause Jasmine's two-tone
sundress last week
was so fierce.
I can't wait to see
what she does next.
You know,
other kids your age
aren't into that kind of stuff.
What are they into?
Like, fishing,
video games.
I mean, I'd be okay
if you were into books
and stuff, instead.
Oh! I read the Diane
von Furstenberg biography.
I don't know
who that is.
And you're growing
up real fast,
and if you want to
be a man someday,
you're gonna have to act
like one.
(high-pitched scream)
(screaming)
(cocks rifle)
You okay, Dad?
(low whimpering)
So you really like it?
The best thing
you've ever written.
Really?
Because...
all of my books
are quite excellent.
Yeah, but this one,
this is a page-turner.
Plus, the cliffhanger
at the end? (snaps fingers)
Bravo.
Cliffhanger?
What do you mean?
Well, you know,
with Agent Andy all shot up.
I can't wait to find out
how you're gonna bring him back.
Agent Andy was shot
directly through
the sternum with a .45.
Yeah, I know.
But he's a tough guy.
Booth, he's dead.
You can't kill Agent Andy.
Okay?
Agent Andy cannot die.
You wrote him based on me.
He was based on you.
Exsanguination is the
official cause of death,
although some
coroners will say
it's cessation of
brain functions.
I can't believe
I'm hearing this.
(phone ringing)
You can't kill Agent Andy.
That is my character,
who is based on me
and you can't just kill him.
Oh, a body was found
in the Blue Ridge
Mountains.
But this whole Agent Andy thing
isn't over yet.
No, Booth,
death is very final.
What?
Come on, Booth. It's not you.
Okay, are you coming or not?
(indistinct radio chatter)
(siren wailing)
(camera shutter clicking)
Bones, look,
all I'm asking
is if this is
the final draft or not.
Booth, I'm not changing it!
(groans)
Wow, you guys really hit the
ground running this morning.
BOOTH:
Yeah, well, you know what?
There's a lot
to hash out when your wife
is plotting your own murder.
Ah! It's not you, it's
a fictional character.
Yeah, okay.
BRENNAN:
And it's not plotting
if he's already dead.
Booth is upset
that Agent Andy
gets killed in
my latest book.
No way!
See?
Thanks for the spoiler alert.
Murdered.
Well, there's heavy
predation everywhere.
The victim was a big meal
who was wrestled over.
BOOTH:
Okay, great.
What are we saying here?
Coyotes? Let's move it along.
The bite pattern
indicates coyotes,
but the size
of the bites is much bigger.
This is the work
of coyote-wolf hybrids.
Coywolves are as
versatile as coyotes,
but like wolves,
they're apex predators.
They migrated down...
Coywolves, bad.
Got it. Thank you.
Based on the heart-shaped
pelvic inlet
and the granular appearance
on the pubic surfaces,
the victim is
a white male in his 30s.
Actually, a faceless
white male in his 30s.
Maybe his wife or editor
shot him in the face.
Just saying.
Actually, the hunters
who found the body
shot the skull at close range
with a 12-gauge.
Wow. So you're saying his face
exploded all over
the ground here.
Angie's got her work
cut out for her.
There's no blowfly larvae,
which means
the victim died within
the last 24 hours.
Interesting.
Interesting? Really?
The blowflies? Because...
No, not the bugs.
Interesting that
the victim's clothes,
they're all shredded up,
but for the most part,
they're all here.
Except for the shoes.
I see tissue
on the posterior plane
of the right metatarsals.
And the soles of the feet
look tender, not calloused.
So we're not dealing
with a barefooted hiker.
This man was definitely
dumped here.
Which means our faceless friend
here was murdered.
Just like Agent Andy.
Just saying.
Right?
I'm gonna go this way.
You can collect all your face.
(camera shutter clicking)
Wow. Well, you guys
weren't kidding
about the faceless skull.
Dr. Hodgins is sifting
through the topsoil
to find the rest
of the facial bones.
Good, 'cause I'm not gonna
get an ID without them.
Lucky for me,
there's enough brain tissue
to run a tox screen.
Dr. Wells, please note
the impact fractures
to the manubrium
and the right humerus.
Oh, I've already
noted those.
The plotting indicates
blunt force trauma
with a heavy,
rounded object,
consistent with slamming
into a tree.
And before you even ask,
remodeling suggest
that the injury
took place
two years ago.
Dr. Wells, is everything okay?
You seem....
Even douchier than usual.
SAROYAN:
I was going to say
on edge.
I am not concerned with
Dr. Wells' attitude.
Good.
BRENNAN:
If it continues,
he is easily replaceable.
In fact, I've already enlisted
the help of
an additional intern.
Dr. Brennan, you didn't
clear this with me first.
BRENNAN:
Trust me.
Dr. Beth Mayer's brilliance
as a forensic anthropologist
is unrivaled.
With the exception of myself,
of course.
This new intern,
she isn't hot, is she?
You say "hot"
like you would prefer "hideous."
BRENNAN: Dr. Mayer has
exceptional bone structure
and perfect facial symmetry.
WELLS:
Great.
Now I have to deal
with another gorgeous,
intelligent woman.
BOOTH: Look, if we're going
to get an ID on this guy,
it looks like our
best lead is gonna
be the injury
he suffered.
Yeah, I'm waiting on
hospital records
for patients that got
into tree-related accidents
around two years ago.
Oh, by the way,
I wanted to offer
my condolences.
Condolences?
Agent Andy.
You're an idiot.
Look, I'm with you. I mean,
Dr. Brennan's books are great,
but you can't kill someone off
and then have one character
solving crimes all by herself.
Time out. Technical.
She's not going to do that.
What do you mean?
She's gonna replace
the character
with a new, younger,
sexier partner.
Well, in that case,
I'm really, really sorry.
Why? It's-it's not your problem.
I don't know.
I mean, a new,
young, sexy partner? Huh?
I'm probably the one
who inspired her
to create the character.
"Agent James"
got a nice ring to it.
Agent James...
(phone rings)
Oh! Look at that.
Hospital records
just came through.
What do we got?
54 people smacked into
trees around that time,
15 of them were white
males in their 30s.
Get that to Cam, will you?
You got it.
Another job well done
by Agent James.
WELLS:
Dr. Hodgins,
I was wondering
if I might assist you
in separating
the facial bones.
Sure, yeah.
I've already given Angela
most of what she needs.
Now I'm just sifting
for any stragglers.
Flotation tanks
are more commonly used
by archeologists
and geologists.
(Wells sniffs)
You filled it
with a solution
of hydrogen peroxide
and water?
That's right.
So the debris will settle
according to weight.
There'll be a layer of soil,
a layer of pebbles...
And a layer of bone.
Then all we have to do is
pick out the bigger rocks,
sticks and leaves.
Very well.
So is everything okay?
Heard you were feeling
a little stressed.
Everything is fine.
All systems
functioning perfectly.
Functioning?
In terms of
my performance.
My performance here at work,
not any other type
of performance.
I'm not talking about my
performance anywhere else.
Oliver, this is
a safe place, okay?
It's just us guys in here.
I-It's nothing. I am simply
dealing with something
that 21 million other men
in the U.S.
are-are dealing with.
It's... it's a common problem,
really.
What's a common problem?
Erectile dysfunction.
Ah. I see.
Yeah, no, I mean,
you have absolutely nothing
to be embarrassed about.
So you have experience
with this, as well?
God, no.
But if I did, you know,
it would be completely normal.
It's confounding,
'cause normally, when
I'm faced with a problem,
all I have to do
is focus on the variables.
But I am not taking medication,
I'm not ill,
I'm not overweight,
I'm not fatigued,
and I don't consume alcohol
regularly.
But the more I try to solve
this particular problem,
the worse it gets.
What problem?
Nothing.
Look at that.
The layers have
settled nicely.
Good.
I was afraid Dr. Wells might
be causing trouble again.
Dr. Saroyan,
I'd like to apologize
for earlier.
I haven't been feeling
myself as of late,
and perhaps I took
my frustration
out on the team.
Apology accepted.
And no hard feelings.
No. None whatsoever.
(muffled laugh)
(coughs)
How's it coming with
the reconstruction?
Oh, not great.
Half the face is done,
but the trouble is,
some of these bone shards
that Hodgins recovered
are so small
that they're
practically dust.
You should try to enlarge
the fragments digitally.
It'll make it easier
to piece them back together.
Dr. Mayer, you're here early.
What can I say?
I drive fast.
Oh, my God.
Your idea is brilliant.
By enlarging
each fragment,
the computer can better find
the contours of each piece.
Wow.
Oh, I'm Angela,
by the way.
Oh.
It's a pleasure
to meet you.
No, the pleasure
is mine.
Especially now
that I get to see
the Angelatron
in person.
MONTENEGRO:
You know about
the Angelatron?
BRENNAN:
Dr. Mayer developed the platform
its graphic simulator
is based on.
MONTENEGRO:
Well, actually,
having created the Angelatron,
I know that platform
was developed by a Dr. Brinkley.
My name at the time.
It was one of my
prior marriages.
Oh. Oh, my God.
Um... how many times
were you married?
Six.
Brinkley didn't last long.
Fantastic lover, though.
Wow, well, this is...
this is an incredible honor.
Oh.
Oh, look!
We have a match.
Justin Ross.
He's a real estate agent
with Franklin Realtors.
Well, Brennan was right.
You're amazing.
No, just experienced.
So, uh, what do you
need me to do next?
AUBREY:
So, all the employees at
Justin Ross's real estate firm
used ID badges
to clock in and out of work.
How late was he
working last night?
9:00 p.m.
9:00 p.m.?
Okay, hello, after hours.
Yeah, only one
other employee
was working that late--
a, uh, Chris Winfelder.
Custodian?
No, he's a temp.
I picked him up while he
was putting up sign posts.
Winfelder's been at
the firm for six months,
which is pretty
long for him.
He usually jumps
from job to job.
I'll have to go find out why
he's bouncing around so much.
He must be, you know, hiding
from someone or something.
You got it.
Oh, they still can't
get that coffee, right, huh?
Mr. Winfelder?
Special Agent James Aubrey.
What's going on?
I-I need
to get back to work.
Well, this shouldn't
take long.
Just need to ask you a few
questions about Justin Ross.
So, the two of you
were both at work
last night after
the office closed.
Yeah, I was working
on a new listing.
Which means that you were the
last person to see Ross alive.
Well, wh-what
do you mean "alive"?
Ross's body was found
this morning in the woods.
He was murdered.
Wow.
Really?
I'm sorry.
I've never been told
someone's dead before.
Can I, like, do that again?
Uh, no.
So, where'd you
go after work?
I went home.
I left after Ross.
That means I can't be
a suspect, right?
Well, you could've easily
just swiped his card,
then waited,
then left yourself out.
Th-this is crazy!
I wouldn't hurt a fly.
Literally,
if there's a fly at work,
I shoo it towards a window
and set it free.
Shooing flies-- got it.
So, you're a saint?
I didn't say that.
But... (stammers)
I didn't kill Ross.
Well, then what can
you tell me?
Ross have any enemies at work?
Maybe a fellow
real estate agent?
He had some enemies
outside of work.
Outside of work where?
In his fantasy league.
"Fantasy"-- you mean
he was a gamer?
No, I'm talking
fantasy football.
He was obsessed.
Killed over fantasy football.
Sounds like a stretch.
No, you don't understand.
I-I overheard threats.
What kind of threats?
I don't know what about,
but they were full-on,
screaming-at-the-top-
of-your-lungs-type threats.
I'm telling you it was
his only life
outside of work.
If you want to find out
who Ross's enemies were,
dig through
his fantasy football account.
Oh, wait a second.
You play fantasy football?
I'm the reigning two-time champ.
It's a 12-team PPR league.
12-team PPR league.
That's exactly what I was in.
Well, before I, you know,
before I...
Booth quit
because he thought it was
a gateway to gambling, so...
(iPad chimes)
Oh, it looks like Angela
got us access to Ross's league.
That's gonna be
tons of information
we're gonna have
to go through.
Lots of transaction logs,
e-mails; not to mention,
all the trash talking
on the message boards.
Oh, I love a good trash talking.
Of course you do.
(laughs)
I-I'm not sure
I quite understand
what fantasy football is.
Oh, you'd love it.
It's a statistical game,
where the members,
uh, form a league,
and then they-they compete
against each other
by drafting
real football players.
Right, and your players,
they earn you points
when they gain yards,
if they catch passes
or they score touchdowns.
Yeah.
But these teams
don't technically exist.
Oh, they take it
very seriously, Bones.
Uh-huh.
Oh, just like you and Agent
Andy-- he doesn't exist,
but you're taking
his death quite seriously.
You're killing Agent Andy?!
But he's your husband.
No, he's just a character.
You know what I think?
You wrote that book
after I quit the FBI.
You killed Andy
when I quit my job.
No, that's absurd.
Also, I'd appreciate it
if we didn't
bicker in front
of Dr. Mayer.
Oh, I don't mind.
But we do have work to do.
Um, check the top post.
Well, it says "Hunting prey."
It's a video.
MAN: How's it feel
to lose the season?
Very funny, guys.
Let's get it over with.
Get what over with?
Well, sometimes, you know,
whoever wins the fantasy
football league, you know,
gets to pick a bad tattoo
for the loser or...
Oh!
Ow! Stop shooting!
Or in this case, the winner
hunts down the loser
with a paintball gun.
BRENNAN:
These look like the same woods
where the victim was found.
Looks like the video went viral.
And this guy became the
laughingstock of his league.
Ow! Ow! Ow!
MAN:
I'm gonna kill you, Justin!
Ow! Ow!
(knocking)
Ashlie Smith.
Special Agent Aubrey, FBI.
Your husband Craig home?
Yeah, what's this about?
I need to ask him
a few questions
about a friend of his
in his fantasy football league--
a Justin Ross.
Maybe you know him?
No, sorry,
but you can follow me.
Craig's in his man cave,
as usual.
So, I take it he spends a lot
of time hibernating in his cave?
If he's not at work,
he's here.
Craig?
I'm in the middle of something.
AUBREY:
Hey, Craig?
FBI. Need to ask
you a few questions
about your relationship
with Justin Ross.
One sec.
Sorry, the league
just got the news.
It sucks.
It's, like,
totally chaotic for us.
"Chaotic"?
The commish says either
someone has
to take over his team
or we have to divvy up his
players to the rest of us.
A man was murdered
and you guys are worried about
who gets his fantasy players?
Yeah, it's sad,
but life goes on.
Saw a video of Ross hunting
you down with a paintball gun.
You got a pretty bad temper
on you.
That stuff in the video
wasn't serious.
It's the camaraderie
of the league.
You said, quote, "I swear
I'm gonna kill you, Justin."
I was getting shot
with paintballs!
Please, settle down.
Is there
anything important
that you might want to tell us?
Now would be a good time.
Okay.
You might want to talk
to Lou Divers.
Lou Divers?
Why would I want to talk
to an NFL starting running back?
Divers stepped out of bounds
on a routine running play
that cost Ross
a fantasy football game.
So, big deal. Doesn't that kind
of stuff happen all the time?
Well, Ross went online
and trash talked Divers
until they got
into an intense Twitter war,
which ended with Divers
paying Ross a visit
right before he got killed.
How do you know that
Divers paid Ross a visit,
unless you were there?
The whole league
knows about it.
Just check Divers'
Twitter account.
This is the last of the bones.
The coywolves munched
some down all right.
We're missing multiple medial
and distal phalanges,
the scaphoid,
the trapezoid, the trapezium,
the hamate and the capitate.
Oh, don't forget
the shattered scapula.
There appears to be a small nick
to the triquetral.
Tangential trajectory
indicates it is a fracture,
however, we won't be
certain what caused it
unless we have
the missing bones.
HODGINS:
You know,
the only way to get them
would be to go into the woods
and track down the coywolves.
Well, normally
I'm not one to endorse
one of your ill-conceived
expeditions.
However, I need those bones.
You should take
Dr. Wells with you.
WELLS:
Oh, no, no, no.
I'd prefer to stay
in the lab.
I'm not really the,
uh, outdoorsy type.
Oh, nonsense.
I can cover for both of you.
Besides, being in nature
will be good for Mr. Happy.
Excuse me?
HODGINS:
Wow.
Do you miss anything?
Not that I'm
confirming anything.
It's okay.
I'm around a lot of older men
with the same issue.
After a while, you can
practically smell it on a man.
Uh, I suppose a little exercise
could prove therapeutic.
MAYER:
Forget exercise!
What you need
is to get out of your head
and go wild.
With your permission, Dr. B?
BRENNAN:
Go.
And if it's any consolation,
Dr. Wells,
I don't smell
anything different about you.
Well, that's
because Dr. Mayer's a lot
more perceptive than you are.
Okay, let's go.
Dr. Brennan kills off Agent Andy
when you're not working,
so you, uh, take
a trip to the range?
More like I have to take the
tactical retesting requirement.
Oh, so the Bureau wants
to know if you still got it?
Yeah, it's just protocol.
Right, so I checked out
Lou Divers' Twitter feed.
Turns out Divers
made multiple threats,
including one that said he was
gonna pay Justin Ross a visit.
Wait a second,
he deleted those tweets.
Exactly, the threats
mysteriously disappeared
a few hours
after Ross was killed.
Right.
Oh, looks like you got
a few cobwebs to dust off.
You missed the killer
by a few inches there, Booth.
Oh, come on,
get with it, Aubrey.
You see, that's
the innocent bystander.
The killer's 30
feet away, Aubrey.
Let's get with
the program, huh?
BOOTH:
So, social media's
a crazy thing.
Isn't it, Lou?
What do you mean?
Well, one minute you're being
praised by millions of fans,
and the next,
you're in a Twitter war
with a fantasy football player.
I-I don't know
what you're talking about.
Online evidence
doesn't disappear
just because you delete it.
DIVERS:
Getting in a Twitter fight's
illegal now?
No, but murder is.
You mean this guy's dead?
Yeah, he was killed
the day that you showed up
to pay him a visit.
You want to tell us why
some no-name fantasy fan's
worth tracking down?
This guy took it too far.
You know, I can
handle the trash talk,
but when you threaten
my wife and kids,
it's taking it
to a whole other level.
So, you killed him and then
you covered your tracks
by deleting the tweets.
No.
I deleted those tweets because
we figured this out in person.
You made up?
Yeah.
I mean, football's
a brutal sport, man,
but I'm not a violent dude.
I just needed to let him know
that those threats
don't play well with me.
And he took that well?
Yeah, he was
remorseful actually.
To be honest with you,
he was in a great mood.
Hmm.
Any idea why?
He was bragging
about some jackpot
that he'd just won.
Something about having
the highest scoring
fantasy player
at every position.
Really?
Yeah, it's, uh,
nearly impossible,
so I imagine that payout
was pretty big.
So, somebody owes
our victim a lot of money.
The injury that caused
the acromion
to shatter was perimortem.
Any idea what caused it?
Not until we get
the missing bones.
Would you like
Dr. Mayer to help you?
I'm currently
making excellent progress
without her.
So... you know, besides,
at her age,
she could use the rest.
Actually she's in Limbo
right now working.
Limbo?
What, um,
what interest could she have
with the remains
of unsolved cases?
Does she think that she can
solve cases that I couldn't?
No, relax, she just thought
the remains were
sorted inefficiently.
No, the remains
are categorized just fine.
Well, she is photographing the
bones of each victim right now
and uploading them
to the Angelatron,
so we have a digital
database of Limbo.
I suppose that could
prove quite useful.
You aren't jealous
or feeling competitive
of Dr. Mayer, are you?
(laughs):
No.
No, I mean, I, what...
I have no reason
to be competitive with her,
so... no.
(chuckles)
Okay.
Just wanted to make sure.
There appears to be a nick
on the anterior aspect
of the scapula
similar to the nature
of the wound found
on the wrist.
We should swab
for particulates.
Well, unfortunately,
we'll have to wait
for Dr. Hodgins
to return from the woods.
I'll let Dr. Mayer know.
She can run the
analysis easily.
Of course she can.
So this is where the
coywolves ate our victim?
Yeah, and these tracks
run northwest.
Coywolves prefer
areas with cover,
like brush or shrubs.
Then that's where we'll go.
Shall we?
Hey, so, out of the lab
and in nature.
Is anything, you know,
awakening in you?
No, and I'm growing
skeptical
that simply being out of
the lab is going to fix my...
Boner problem?
Yes. Thank you.
Unfortunately, the only thing
I feel right now
is tired and hungry.
I haven't eaten anything
since this morning.
Wait a minute.
What is it?
Well, the gut transit
time for canids
is less than
a day, at most.
It's much more rapid
than humans.
So, technically, we're not
looking for coywolves.
No, we're looking
for coywolf defecation.
Coywolves usually defecate
in more conspicuous areas
to mark their
territory.
Like the edge of the woods,
near a trail,
or by a body
of water?
Yeah.
Okay, let's go
towards the river.
Hold on.
We're not gonna need
these tranquilizer guns.
You just shot me.
That was an accident.
Ah! (inhales sharply)
You just shot me!
Okay, chill out.
It's a low dose of Zoletil.
You'll probably be fine.
Probably?!
Definitely.
You'll definitely be fine.
Ah... Oliver!
Come on.
Ah... what?
WELLS:
Just keep moving.
BRENNAN:
According to
the league's Web site,
Ross was owed $15,000
by the commissioner,
Jamie Whetzel.
And now that Ross is dead,
he gets to keep all the money.
(sighs)
Money is always a strong motive.
Oh, so is that why
you killed Agent Andy?
To increase book sales?
Absolutely not.
But now that we're dealing
with the subject
of money and
fantasy football...
I was curious.
Are your endorphin levels
rising?
If you're asking me if I'm
getting the gambling itch,
the-the answer is yes.
Oh.
That was not the response
I was expecting.
Well, I'm never gonna hide
things anymore, Bones.
You know, covering
builds it up inside.
When I get an urge,
I acknowledge it.
I think about the
pros and the cons
that gambling
added to my life,
and then I can let it go.
Hmm.
What does a fantasy football
commissioner do, anyway?
Well, their job
is to put the
league together--
you know, run the draft,
handle the money
and basically, you know,
control the game.
Sounds like a lot of
responsibility for one person.
Which is why you
have to be unbiased
to be a good
commissioner.
They have all the power.
Welcome to Sandwich Hut.
I'm Jamie, what can I get you?
BOOTH:
Answers.
FBI Special Agent
Seeley Booth.
This here is my partner,
Dr. Temperance Brennan.
From the Jeffersonian.
Yes.
FBI?
And a forensic
anthropologist.
This must be about Justin.
Uh, let's talk over here.
You are the all-powerful
commissioner of the league?
I am the commissioner.
I don't know about
"all-powerful."
MANAGER:
Whetzel!
Less socializing, please.
Hey, I'm talking
to the FBI, here!
Watch your tone, Whetzel.
(whistles)
Sorry about that.
So, what was your relationship
with Justin Ross like?
He was a good man
and a valued member
of our league.
It's just devastating
what happened.
I find it coincidental
that he won a fantasy jackpot
right before he was killed.
What are you implying?
What she's saying is that
$15,000 goes
a long way
for somebody who works
at the Sandwich Hut.
I am an honorable commissioner
and I take that very seriously.
In fact, I already
made plans to put
his full 15 grand
towards his funeral costs.
I can show you the invoice.
Where were you
Wednesday night?
Here.
I worked the night shift;
closed the shop.
Are all of the members
of your league
as fanatical as Ross was?
Look, fantasy players have
pulled over to make trades
while driving their pregnant
wives to the hospital.
That's for sure.
One guy was at war
in Afghanistan
and wouldn't retreat from
his post that was being bombed
because he was
in the middle of a draft.
I heard of that guy,
yeah, right.
Commitment
to a league
is what makes it great.
It may also be
what led to murder.
You're right.
Loving the league is no excuse.
What happened is horrible.
MANAGER:
Whetzel!
Let's go!
Should I tell my manager
you guys need me longer?
Please?
Nah, tell you what.
I'm just gonna need
those invoices
from the funeral costs.
That's me.
Okay.
You can get in touch with us
if anything comes up there.
Absolutely.
Right?
MANAGER
Whetzel, how many times:
do I need to tell you?
Guacamole is a dollar more!
I'm sorry, you're right,
you're right.
I'm sorry.
(grunts)
Hey, how's it going?
Oh, there's my baby.
It's slow.
Like honey.
Mmm. Honey is so good.
Are you okay?
Uh, yeah. Oliver shot me
with a tranquilizer gun.
Oh, my God!
No, no, no, I'm fine. I'm fine.
It was an accident,
we're still friends,
his wiener's feeling better,
so it's, uh, it's awesome.
-Angie, did you find anything?
-Yeah, actually.
So I was digging
through Ross's computer
and it looks like Ross
was helping his temp,
Chris Winfelder,
get his house
out of foreclosure.
Oh, my God,
that's so nice of him!
Yeah, not exactly.
They had a last-minute buyer
lined up,
but it looks like
Ross screwed up the deal
by missing an important meeting.
That's so mean of him!
Now, on top of that,
Dr. Mayer found
traces of an aluminum alloy.
-Angie, Winfelder's signs.
-(Wells howling)
They're made of aluminum alloy.
Yeah, yeah.
Exactly.
What is going on out there?
Does Oliver have his shirt off?
(Wells howls)
(laughing):
Yeah.
He thinks he's a wolf.
(laughing)
(Wells howling, yipping)
Oh, oh, oh, oh.
Hey, Angela,
I'm finally out of my head.
I can actually feel
Mother Earth
breathing new life
into me.
Okay.
Ooh, wait a second.
WELLS:
What is it?
Uh, something
on Ross's computer.
He has a Fit-Step account.
WELLS:
It's a digital pedometer
that tracks how many steps
you take every day.
What's the big deal?
I think I took about
seven steps today.
Wait, what's with
the Fit-Step?
It's just weird
that he accumulated steps
after he was murdered.
WELLS:
The latest Fit-Steps
have a GPS.
If the killer took it,
then we can track them down.
Yeah, but it was
accumulating steps
for about six hours
and then stopped.
Oh, my God.
Maybe a coywolf
ate the Fit-Step.
And then he pooped it out.
Like a poop machine...
that poops.
(Hodgins laughs)
So if I can track
the Fit-Step...
Then we can find
the missing bones.
Yeah. I'll send the GPS
coordinates to you.
Hey. Can you please get back
in one piece?
Oh, Angie,
we have a song for you!
No, you have nothing
to worry about.
We're gonna sing you a song.
I've heard the song.
It's not great.
You do the "do-do-do" part.
♪ Do-do-bee-do-bee-do. ♪
WELLS:
We're gonna go look
for wolf... wolf poop.
HODGES: But I need to just...
(smacking lips)
You lied to me,
Mr. Winfelder.
I don't know what
you're talking about.
Ross screwed you
by sending your house
into foreclosure.
I didn't lie.
I just left that out because
it would've looked bad.
You mean because it
would've given you motive?
That's not what I meant.
Must have made you pretty
angry to lose that house.
Been in your family
three generations.
Of course it did, but...
You couldn't stand the fact
that Ross missed
the last-minute meeting
with a potential buyer
because he was too distracted
by fantasy football.
You're right
that I couldn't stand him,
but fantasy football
isn't why he screwed me over.
What do you mean by that?
He missed our meeting
because he was busy with a lady.
Okay, so Ross had a girlfriend?
Maybe a girlfriend.
It felt a little shadier
than that,
the way they would sneak around
and close the blinds
in his office during lunch
and everything.
So Ross was having an affair.
You ever meet this woman?
A couple of times.
Her name was Ashlie.
Ashlie Smith?
No clue what
her last name is.
Is that her?
Yeah, I'll never forget her.
She's the reason
I lost my house.
Hey.
Hey. There you are.
Are you okay?
Yeah.
Thankfully,
the tranquilizer
is finally out
of my system.
And you were successful
tracking the Fit-Step?
Yeah, very.
Both the Fit-Step and the bones
were buried in a pile of
defecation, just like I thought.
So, where are the bones?
(platform entry chimes)
Hello, ladies.
Cam.
It's still "Dr. Saroyan."
Yes. Yes, it is.
MONTENEGRO:
Wow, you, uh...
you seem to be feeling better.
Yeah.
Turns out Dr. Mayer was right.
All I needed
was a little fresh air
to get the blood flowing
to the proper areas...
I think we should focus
on the bones.
Yeah. Good idea. Come on.
The sooner we find these bones
and clean them for Dr. B.,
the sooner
we can solve this case.
(exhales)
Oof.
Let's do this!
Uh, it seems like you guys
have a handle on
this situation, so...
Agreed.
MONTENEGRO:
Good luck with that.
AUBREY:
Cheating on your husband
with our murder victim
doesn't look too good.
Make a habit of lying,
Mrs. Smith?
Anyone in my position
would've done the same.
And what position
is that?
My husband hasn't looked at me
in years.
He comes home from work,
goes straight into his man cave,
and plays fantasy football
until he falls asleep.
Is that why you cheated on him
with someone from his league?
To get back at him?
No.
Where were you
on Wednesday night?
I was home.
Husband verify that?
No, he wasn't there.
Where was he that night?
I don't know.
Did he know
about the affair?
Yeah.
We had a typical fight
over him watching
too much football,
and he yelled at me
to back off,
and that's when I told him
I was sleeping with Justin.
And how did he react?
I-I didn't see.
I slammed the door and left,
and the next thing I knew, R...
Ross was dead.
Mrs. Smith,
did your husband
kill Justin Ross?
I don't know.
I mean, I can't imagine
he would, but...
but I don't even know
who he is anymore.
(crying):
Oh, my God...
We have the scaphoid,
the trapezoid,
the trapezium,
the hamate, the capitate,
the phalanges, and the rest
of the shattered acromion,
all clean of
coywolf defecation.
The bones are finally ready
to be re-articulated.
And I finally have my mojo back.
Which should
please Dr. Mayer.
Where is she currently?
Uh, she is updating
the Angelatron's interface.
But we're perfectly
fine without her.
Your lobbying to spend
one-on-one time with me
is quite flattering,
Dr. Brennan.
But, come on, we
have work to do.
Now that we've found
the rest of the acromion,
we can determine what caused
the nick on the scapula.
BRENNAN:
There are two circular pits,
indicating the victim
was stabbed twice
with a cylindrical weapon
with a diameter
of four to five millimeters.
A nail, perhaps?
The angle at which
the weapon
shattered the acromion
would've severed
the subclavian artery.
Which would've caused our victim
to bleed out within minutes.
We have cause of death.
My mojo's not done.
The size of
the circular pits
is nearly identical.
Indicating the stabs were made
with exactly the same force.
Four millimeter diameter,
two stabs with
identical force.
It's quite feasible
that our killer
used a nail gun.
Booth is going to visit
a suspect right now
who works
as a contractor.
I-I'll let him know
immediately.
AUBREY:
All these killings
over loved ones-- maybe
this is why I'm still single.
Look, are we talking
about our suspect
or are we talking
about Agent Andy here?
You're still hung up
on that?
(scoffs)
On what, being killed? Yeah.
Look, maybe
Dr. Brennan was just
going through something
in her writing.
Okay.
That doesn't make
it okay to off me.
Look at the alternative.
I mean, we are headed
to the house
of a neglected wife
who cheated
on her murder-suspect
husband.
Dr. Brennan got it
out through her writing
and you guys
are strong as ever.
(clears his throat)
Still mad, though.
(knocking)
Craig Smith, FBI!
Front door's open,
coming in!
(TV plays indistinctly
nearby)
Craig? Anybody home?
You think he split?
His truck's there.
CRAIG:
Come on!
Okay, man cave.
CRAIG:
Yeah, we'll see
about that, tough guy!
Try it again,
I'll rip your face off!
That's a load of crap!
Just make the trade!
Craig Smith, we need you to
come with us for questioning.
Hold on, I'm in the middle
of a big trade.
BOOTH:
No, no, pal, okay,
put the phone down.
Hang it up, step away
from the computer, let's go.
I only need a few seconds!
Okay, listen, let's go.
Come on, man.
What are you doing?
I'm in the middle of a trade!
Come on.
(grunts)
You have no idea
what you just did!
You might've just
cost me the whole season!
Hey, wait, whoa, whoa,
slow down. Wait a second.
You tried trading
an RB1 for Wallace?
What, are kidding me?
No wonder you came
in last last season.
That's a horrible trade.
Get off me!
Let me go or so help me God!
Whoa, hey, look at that.
There's the temper
that we saw
in the paintball video
in the woods.
And look at that, it's
his trusty nail gun.
Oh.
If you don't let me go,
I'll...
Take my advice.
Whatever you're
about to say, don't.
He'll let you up
once you calm down.
You ruined my trade!
Well, you got
a lot more problems
than a fantasy football
league, pal.
Yeah, like how it drove
your wife into Ross's arms.
Somebody with a temper like
yours must've flipped out
when you found out
that she was cheating on you.
How would you react?
Are you gonna let go now?!
Come on.
(grunts)
In a minute, okay?
So how did you react, huh?
Did you go pay your little
fantasy football kid a visit?
Yeah, but not
to kill him.
So, you just drove
out to see him
to politely ask
for an explanation?
No, I told him
I would forgive him
if he gave me Aaron Rodgers,
his fantasy quarterback.
BOOTH:
Whoa, wait a second.
You wanted him to give you
a quarterback
for sleeping with your wife?!
He's a premium quarterback!
And I deserved him!
You deserve that
and more, Craig.
Take it easy, we couldn't
do the trade anyway.
It was considered collusion.
Right and your little peace
offering didn't go through.
So?
So that means
you still have a motive.
Let's go, pal, come on.
Let's go, come on.
SAROYAN:
Booth has Craig Smith
in custody.
Unfortunately, we still
don't have hard evidence.
Well, I may have found something
in the carpal bones.
There appear
to be puncture wounds
on the trapezium and hamate
similar to those
found on the scapula.
Looks like they were both
caused by the same
cylindrical murder weapon.
But these stabs were inflicted
with much less force.
SAROYAN:
Yeah, and the distance
between punctures
is approximately
three centimeters.
Which means the murder weapon
made two stabs at a time.
So we're looking
for a two-pronged weapon.
(phone dings)
Hodgins just sent results
from the defecation.
It looks like the coywolves
recently feasted on...
Sus domesticus.
They ate pigs?
Perhaps they got into a farm?
No, these pigs
were cured with salt.
I know the murder weapon.
You do?
I see it now as well.
Two prongs,
cured meat.
Dr. Mayer, you should be
the one to call Booth.
(phone beeps)
Good work.
AUBREY:
We found a lot
of angry messages to you
from Ross that were sent
before he was murdered.
That doesn't mean
I killed him.
Commissioners of every league
deal with angry messages
all the time.
You know, you
had every right
to veto that
Aaron Rodgers trade.
I mean, that would've
been collusion.
Any commissioner
would've vetoed that trade.
But that must've been
the last straw for Ross,
who wasn't happy
with you as commissioner.
That's why Ross went to confront
you at the sandwich shop.
BOOTH: And when you didn't
approve the Aaron Rodgers trade,
he was gonna oust you
as commissioner.
You can't prove anything.
That's when a
fight escalated.
You grabbed your
little meat holder there
and stabbed him two times.
How did you...?
BOOTH: Then you dumped
the body in the woods
and you covered it with ham,
so it would attract
the wild animals.
We got your murder weapon,
and evidence that ties
the ham back to you.
Game over, Whetzel.
Yeah, I killed him.
I'm a sandwich artist.
The league is all I had.
Ross wanted
to take that from me.
♪ Time ain't nothing ♪
♪ If it ain't fast ♪
♪ Taking everything ♪
♪ That you ever had ♪
♪ Giving nothing in return... ♪
I never thought I'd say this,
but I thoroughly enjoy hiking.
It's good to be back
at full strength.
Yeah, me, too,
after being tranqued.
Dr. Hodgins, while I appreciate
you helping me get my mojo back,
I fully maintain that you
overreacted to the tranquilizer.
And I maintain
that you shot me.
It's a harmless dart.
Are you really
gonna stand by that?
Yes, it's
a non-lethal dose
meant to relax
40-pound mammals.
Okay, Oliver,
this is your last
chance to take back
that I overreacted.
It was nothing.
Okay.
What are you doing?
Oh, nothing.
I brought this
in case we ran
into some overly
aggressive coywolves,
but now I'm gonna shoot you,
and then we'll be even.
That is
a ridiculous concept.
Oh, don't worry, it's a, uh--
what did you call it?--
a, um, harmless dart?
Dr. Hodgins,
put down the gun.
I think we both know that
you're not going to shoot...
Aah!
Ow!
You shot me!
Don't worry.
It's a non-lethal dose.
(laughs)
This better not reverse my mojo.
Aah!
(camera shutter clicking)
I must admit
this is an extremely
efficient way
to catalogue the remains.
Thank you.
I...
I need to apologize.
Instead of gaining insight
from your years
of experience, I...
I acted in a jealous manner.
Is it too late to seek
advice from you?
Oh, never.
What's on your mind?
Booth thinks
that I was going through
something subconsciously
that caused me
to kill off Agent Andy.
That perhaps I was
angry with him.
And were you?
No.
When I wrote the book, we were
both taking time off work.
It was a period of
complete peace and quiet.
(laughs):
Oh!
No wonder you lashed out.
What do you mean?
Come on.
Gals like us can't stand
peace and quiet.
We need to be challenged.
That's why I loved
seeing you and Booth together.
But all you witnessed
was us bickering.
Yeah, exactly.
Because you pushed each other.
That's the heat
you fell in love with.
And that's the heat
that will keep you together.
Anything else would be...
(chuckles)
Boring.
And when things get boring,
that's when you start
killing characters.
Oh, come on, Dr. Brennan.
What you and Booth have
is special.
Embrace the heat.
It has been an honor
to work with you, Dr. Mayer.
Thank you.
But don't make it sound
like this is it.
I'm not going anywhere.
(laughs)
BRENNAN:
Dr. Mayer has been working
for two more years
than Cam, Hodgins,
Angela and myself combined.
Wow, she is some lady.
(chuckles)
She actually gave me
some insight
into Agent Andy, too.
Oh, you know,
that-that reminds me.
You were right.
Of course I was.
About what?
About not bring back Agent Andy.
That was a good call.
New beginnings for us, right?
Well, actually,
I believe there may be
a way to bring him back now.
Why would you
want to do that?
Booth, you were the one
fighting to keep him alive.
Yeah, you know, but
then I thought about it.
Well, think about it some more.
There are plenty of creative
ways for Andy to survive!
Someone shot to the sternum?!
Okay, come on, do you know
how fatal that is, Bones?
Booth, you're
questioning my knowledge
of an injury to the sternum?
Oh, really, you're questioning
my, uh, gun shots.
Aah!
Stop! No! Don't! Don't!
(laughing):
Stop it, Booth.
Now, stop it.
Yeah, how about that?!
Booth!
(chattering playfully,
laughing)
What's that mean?
Captioned by
Media Access Group at WGBH