I don't wanna die!
I sometimes wish I'd never been born at all!
The familiar guitar solo raged over the radio is the CSI standard-issue Denali to the classic Queen song. The team had been forced to all pile into one vehicle because the other was in the shop with repairs. Grissom and Catherine sat in the front seat with Sara, Nick, Warrick, and Greg all piled in the back. It was a tight squeeze and the guys weren't too happy about being at such a friendly distance from each other. They had all been staring straight ahead at the road, or at the back of the chairs in front of them the whole time, silently.
Suddenly, the guitar solo turned into a steady clinking of the piano keys, and Warrick was mortified to sense that Greg was bobbing his head in time to the beat to his left. His eyes widened and he bravely turned his head to see his coworker.
"I see a little silhouetto of a man! Scaramouch! Scaramouch! Will you do the fandango!" Greg sang at the top of his lungs and the weirdest voice any of them had ever heard. All eyes turned to him, even Grissom's in the rear-view mirror.
"Thunderbolts of lightning! Very very frightening me!" He bellowed out.
"Gallileo!" Sara joined in. Greg leaned over to give Sara an encouraging nod from the other side of the Denali.
"Gallileo!" He answered
"Magnifico!" They sang together.
All the others looked mortified, but slightly amused. They all knew Greg was a cheeseball, and they could always count on him to lighten the mood, but Sara joining in surprised them. She had a pretty good voice!
Greg went solo again.
"I'm just a poor boy, nobody loves me."
Grissom and Catherine were mortified to see that Nick and Warrick were now joining in too.
"He's just a poor boy from a poor family. Spare him his life from this monstrosity!"
They all giggled at the slight music break.
Greg took his voice down low.
"Easy come, easy go. Will you let me go?"
"Bismillah, no!" Warrick and Nick belted out, throwing their arms around in protest. "We will not let him go!"
"Let him go!" Sara and Greg echoed, her high soprano resonating throughout the Denali.
"Bismillah! We will not let him go!"
"Let him go!"
"Bismillah! We will not let him go!"
"Let me go!" Sara and Greg pleaded.
"Will not let you go!"
"Let me go!"
"Never let me go – oh!"
"No no no no no no no!" Warrick and Nick slammed their fists in the air, emphasizing each word, huge grins plastered on their faces.
"Oh mama mia, mama mia, Mama mia let me go!" Greg sang, proud that he could bring the whole team into this. Everyone joined in for the last part.
"Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me…for me….for MEEEEEE!"
The back row gave a kick at the end of the long note and then it was a circus of head banging, air guitar playing, and questionable car dancing for the guitar solo that followed. Catherine and Grissom glanced at each other and had to laugh out loud. They were like the parents of the four crazed children going psycho in the back seat, just having to sigh at their antics. The song continued, the back row continuing to sing their hearts out in the most ridiculous and ludicrous manner possible, overemphasizing their rock-star movements.
As the song quieted, they all pretended to have lighters in their hands and swayed back and forth together.
"Oh, yeah! Oh yeah!" The guys sang gruffly, their hands poised triumphantly.
"Nothing really matters. Anyone can see! Nothing really matters….nothing really matters to me…anyway the wind blows."
They all erupted in laughter and clapping as the song finished, the daily monotony and depressing subject matter momentarily broken. Grissom had told them all they had to have a distraction, and every once and a while they just had to be silly, just like any other members of any other office.
The team pulled up to the crime scene in the desert – a big one. They got out of the Denali one by one and Greg let out a huge sigh as he glanced over at one dead body of many.
"Another one bites the dust."