TVSquad

Mmm, Thanksgiving and dead guys, perfect together. This week's CSI: Crime Scene Investigation gave in to one of Vegas' more well-known traits - the inexpensive all-you-can-eat buffet. And as if finding a dead guy with a handful - and bellyful - of food, in a dumpster, wasn't enough - we had an extreme eating competition to boot. Hearing Grissom and Brass say "Happy Thanksgiving" over the dumpster with grins on their faces was a little strange, but we'll let them have their fun. Everyone here at Thanksgiving Central kept saying "ooh, this is just like Seven, isn't it?" As it turns out, no - but nice try.

Most disconcerting about this episode, frankly, was the board "clearing" Brass from the shooting that took place two weeks earlier, even though he was told it was a "bad shoot." I thought we'd see some bigger repercussions from this, but perhaps it'll be something that comes along at a later date, and will be held against him in another case. And for Sofia, no mention at all of what had happened. I'd surmise that the trouble she went through in the previous week might give her a little bit more leeway with the team, although probably not with Sidle, who thinks she's moving in on her man.

Then again, maybe Nick's moustache was really the most disconcerting thing on the show. I hear that he was quoted recently as just showing up on the set with it one day, and that he likes it, and will continue wearing it until he hears he should do otherwise from his fans. Well, continue yourself notified, bro. The 'stache doesn't work. Someone's going to bury you alive - again - will that make you realize what you're doing?

And who knew that the Dr. Robbins was into vegan food? The best part of the scene where he served up his strawberry rhubarb pie to Warrick was when Willows strolled up and looked like she was about to toss her cookies just thinking about eating it. I thought we'd hear more about Warrick's still-newlywed wife, but maybe that's some foreshadowing for when he gets with Catherine later on. Riiiiight, that'll be on the same evening that Sidle gets with Grissom - they could just make it a big group event, and Stokes could watch - none of the chicks want him anyway, 'stache and all.

Outside of the dog named "Kahlua," one of the better parts of this episode was when the crew looks a bit stumped - like when the .22 is found at the top of one of the victim's skulls, and it turns out that Sidle and Stokes didn't sweep the house for any guns or residue because they had no idea why the man was dead - and they hadn't seen a gun. Somehow, he managed to get shot through the nostril, and the gun flew across the room and stopped under a couch. Go figure. And to complicate matters, the golden retriever hairs on his wife - who had a chunk of her neck ripped out a la Patrick Swayze's Road House - turned out not to be that of their loving pet, but a duplicate retriever the husband was trying to swap out on the down low, as part of his retribution for her "winning" him in the divorce.

And if we hadn't had enough to eat during the day that we could throw up at home on our own, we're shown the stomach contents of a man who has a hypothalamus disorder that doesn't tell his brain when he is full, which led to him "eating himself to death" and ending up in a dumpster - but at least he was doing something he loved when he died, right? What a warm ending, with his sister beaming at the newspaper photo showing him winning 3rd prize in the eating competition earlier that day.

Luckily, we didn't get to see the stomach contents of Kahlua the dog, anyone here at Thanksgiving Central, or Warrick - because who really wants to see strawberry rhubarb pie a second time, because frankly I saw enough stuffing, turkey and pie for one day.