Olivia opened her eyes and found herself sitting in the car on the way to a crime scene with Elliot. She decided to just go with whatever this reality was going to be. It couldn't be worse than her last awful dream. Jumping out of the car, she addressed ME Warner, "Whadda we got?"
"He was dead: to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that…as dead as a door-nail," she replied.
Olivia found the reply somewhat cryptic. "Right. And the cause of death?"
"It looks like he was suffocated, then dismembered and placed under the floorboards." Warner looked around wildly. "But I swear I can still hear the beating of his hideous heart!"
"Uh-huh." Olivia backed slowly away, searching for her partner. The pressure of the job seemed to be getting to Warner. Elliot suddenly appeared from a doorway, giving Olivia an escape route. "Did you get anything from the guy the uniforms picked up?"
He ushered her toward an office saying, "Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied."
"Are you feeling okay, El?"
He nodded serenely in response. Olivia decided to take point on the interrogation of the man now sitting before her. "What's your name?"
"Call me Ishmael."
"And what brought you here, Ishmael?"
"Some years ago – never mind how long precisely – having little or no money in my purse…" he began.
Olivia interrupted, "We don't really have time for your whale of a life story. Telling us why you were here tonight will be fine."
He rose abruptly, pulling a thin wooden stick from his sleeve and chanting some Latin-y sounding words. Olivia barely managed to dodge the blast of green light the issued from the tip of wand. The noise brought two uniforms in from the hall, and they managed to wrest the wand away from the suspect before he could kill Olivia and send her into another pointless chapter. Of her life, that is.
As they cuffed him and dragged him from the room, Dr. Huang entered, nodding sagely. "Happy families are all alike, but each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way."
Olivia sat on the floor, still trying to recover from her near-magical-death experience. She looked at him incredulously. "Is that your psychological assessment of our perp or something? Brilliant, really brilliant." She ignored his response, rudely pushing her way back to the car. Elliot followed, muttering vaguely about squeezing a camel through the eye of a needle. In the car, she asked, "Why is everybody talking so strangely?"
He shrugged, replying, "It is the voice of one crying in the wilderness."
All these meaningless statements, which sounded suspiciously like things she'd heard before, were very frustrating. Sure, they made the people who said them seem momentarily smarter, until you realized that they didn't mean anything. Olivia really didn't like this illusion of allusion. She tried what she hoped would be an innocuous question. "Looks like rain, doesn't it?"
"April is the cruelest month."
"Yeah. Sure it is." She didn't bother remarking that it was the middle of December.
As they arrived back at the precinct, she asked Munch if he wanted to get dinner, hoping he at least would provide some coherent conversation. He replied with, "I am a great eater of beef, but I fear it does harm to my wit."
Not wanting to live in a world where people referenced things not written in Vogue, Olivia abruptly hurled herself beneath a passing bus…the rest was silence. Or maybe a terrible beauty was born. Or an inappropriate reference to something read in a freshman English class was really to blame.
Olivia opened her eyes yet again to find…