"It's so dark." "All new border agents start out on night duty." "Get used to it." "Everything up past that rock is Canada." "That's all you got to know." "Unless you forget your long johns, it's a piece of cake." "What about smugglers or terrorists?" "This ain't Mexico, bucko." "At most you'll get a Mohawk slicking beer across the border to avoid taxes." "Where do they get you trainees?" "You can't even walk without tripping over your own feet." "Those aren't my feet!" "Oh, crap." "This is gonna be a lot of paperwork." "Hey." "What's wrong?" "Nothing." "It's just, I received this letter of acceptance from Columbia." "Ooh, congratulations." "In what?" "Undergraduate French literature." "Are you telling me in some roundabout way that you want to radically change your life?" "Yes." "I'm also changing my name to Michelle Welton." "Oh, my God." "Cam's daughter got into Columbia." "Yep." "Wait, why did you open her mail?" "It was in my pile, because Cam had it sent here." "Cam?" "Wouldn't Michelle give her address so that it would just go right to...?" "Cam got her daughter into Columbia behind her back." "Because she didn't want her to go to that little school up in Maine." "Oh, wow." "Honey, this is bad parenting." "We will never do anything like this, promise me now." "What do I do now?" "You give it to Cam." "I mean, do I say anything?" "No." "It is not your business." "Can I give her a disapproving look?" "Of course." "That's a good one." "What's this?" "Oh." "You have something to say about this?" "Angela says no." "But this is a disapproving look." "Does it mean anything that it's all moot?" "Michelle is determined to go to community college in outer Mongolia to be with her boyfriend." "So you found 11 feet so far?" "Yep." "This whole yellow flag section is our side." "Rest of it's the Canadians." "Well, unless it rained feet, these puppies definitely washed ashore." "Yeah, my trainee tripped over one of them last night." "I think I'll, uh, wait over there, if that's okay with you." "Yeah, right, go grab yourself a donut." "Based on the size, this belonged to an adult male." "Hmm." "Given the range of motion of the metatarsophalangeal joint, I'd say he was somewhere between 18 and 50." "Great." "That narrows it down to about 50 million people." "Yes, this appears to be a pair." "Great, okay." "Two down, 11 to go." "Oh, nine to go." "These boots are empty." "Hey, Bones, how much you want to bet that those boots belong to Shoeless Joe over there?" "Well, I'll see if the size of the boots conform to Joe." "Okay?" "Hey, B-Bones, you know, just, you know, when you go over there, just be nice." "They're Canadians." "You're referring to the broad generalization that Canadians are polite?" "Yes, I am." "Sorry, excuse me." "Dr. Douglas Filmore." "I'm here to examine the feet." "I know him, Booth." "Who?" "Him." "Dr. Filmore." "How are you?" "Oh." "Dr. Brennan, it's, uh, been quite a while." "Yes." "Uh, excuse the left hand." "I'm having some issues with my right arm." "So, you're here to examine the remains as well, eh?" "Yes." "Yes." "Um, this is Special Agent Seeley Booth, FBI." "We're partners." "Nice to meet you." "Pleasure." "So what happened to your arm?" "It was Thursday, May 9." "I was in my office doing some reading, and my right arm just ceased to function." "The physicians can't seem to find the cause." "Very tough." "I'm sorry to hear that." "Coincidentally, I had just finished reading" "Dr. Brennan's incredibly thorough repudiation of my attempts to get my field of study recognized by the Board of Forensic Scientists." "Oh, boy." "Oh..." "I-I work extremely hard on being thorough." "It's gratifying when someone notices." "Thank you." "You're welcome." "So, w-what exactly do you do again?" "Dr. Filmore calls himself a forensic podiatrist even though that's not an officially recognized discipline." "Yes, I am merely a board certified podiatrist who assists law enforcement professionals by providing sound podiatric analysis to forensic investigations." "But I thank you for correcting me, Dr. Brennan." "You're very welcome." "So, can you, uh, tell me how long these feet have been in the river?" "No." "No." "I need to take all of the feet back to the Jeffersonian for further examination." "Uh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." "Excuse me." "Would you be so good as to point out for me the international boundary?" "Straight shot from that rock over there to the border marker and right across the river." "I see." "So, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." "Okay, whoa, whoa, look." "Pal, we're supposed to be cooperating here, that's all." "I'm sorry, Dr. Brennan, but as far as we're concerned, these are" "Canadian feet, and as such, they will be examined by an ordinary, garden-variety podiatrist." "That's great." "Now look what you've done." "Thank you." "d Bones 6x17 d The Feet on the Beach Original Air Date on April 7, 2011 d Main Title Theme d The Crystal Method" "So, Brennan said the victim was a golfer?" "Yes." "From the X-rays of his feet?" "Apparently, the osteomorphosis of his metaspacial turtlicious proves it." "You made those words up." "Hey, you want the real thing, you're gonna have to read the podiatrist's article." "The one that Brennan refuted?" "Booth says that she refuted him so hard that it paralyzed his arm." "Really?" "Well, then why did she ask him to work the case with us?" "Because he has the rest of the feet Brennan wants." "Jurisdictionally speaking, those feet are Canadian." "Hmm, severed feet." "Ugh, Canucks can have them." "No, they weren't cut off." "The feet fell off the rest of the bodies when they were in the water, and then the shoes kind of floated them to the surface." "Wow." "Man, is it me or do these... smell like a bad gym?" "Seriously stinks, right?" "Ugh." "Okay, if they were in the river, wouldn't that sweat smell be gone?" "Absolutely." "These boots weren't worn by someone in the river, more likely someone who encountered these feet." "Would there be enough sweat in the boot to extract DNA?" "The human foot sweats an average of one cup a day." "You know, there are some things that I really don't need to know." "Dr. Filmore got clearance from the Canadian government to work with you." "He should be here today with the feet." "Great." "I read the article you wrote." "It's quite good, wasn't it?" "Booth is right, you should apologize." "What?" "You undermined his life's work." "You dismissed him and ridiculed the notion that he be recognized as a forensic podiatrist." "I had to, otherwise, we'd have forensic dermatologists, forensic chiropractors." "Where would it end?" "You paralyzed the guy," "Bones, okay?" "Dr. Sweets here did his research and he's gonna get shrinky with you." "Get shrinky with her." "Are you two ganging up on me?" "His paralysis sounds like conversion disorder." "A major stress event creates a psychic conflict." "The person converts that intrapsychic distress into physical symptoms as a way of resolving an issue that he can't deal with emotionally." "Exactly." "Whatever he said." "So it's my fault that he can't deal with his own life?" "You just don't get it, do you, Bones?" "Not at all." "Well, got a DNA match off the sweaty boot." "Canadian ex-con with mental health issues." "Sounds like you're up." "I'm on it." "Sometimes, wouldn't you just like to be a person like the rest of us instead of someone who just paralyzes people?" "Those of us who tell the truth have always endured harsh judgment..." "Copernicus, Galileo." "I accept that as something I have to deal with." "Okay, so the blank columns are for the Canadian feet." "Exactly." "According to Booth, our neighbors to the north have two pairs and two individual feet." "Okay, so eight victims total." "So far." "No bodies, just feet." "It's kind of like having no vowels in a Scrabble game." "The inside of the shoes showed traces of a sticky residue, like some insoluble protein, so I ran it through the Mass Spec." "It was spider mite silk." "Now, until I identify species, all it tells us is that the victims were all in the same location before they got dumped in the river." "So you might be able to tell us where the murders took place?" "Mm-hmm." "You're so amazing." "So are you." "No, no." "Not here." "Not over feet." "Sorry to be a bother, but I-I'm looking for Dr. Brennan." "Oh." "You must be Dr. Filmore." "Hi." "I'm Angela Montenegro." "Come on up." "Thank you." "Hey, sorry." "Uh, Jack Hodgins." "Pleasure." "Uh, we've heard so much about you." "Oh." "Well, the pleasure's mine." "Dr. Saroyan." "Oh." "Sorry." "Oh." "Uh, welcome." "I wasn't sure you were actually going to join us." "Why?" "Because of..." "You know..." "Oh, well, I-I felt it was only right to use my expertise to help solve this crime." "Ooh, lovely shoes." "Oh, thank you." "The average increase in the protrusion of a woman's buttocks is 25% when wearing high-heeled shoes." "Okay." "That fact was responsible for catching a killer in Manitoba." "That's very impressive." "Oh, no, no, no." "I'm merely an expert in one quarter of the bones of the human body, which makes me one quarter of the expert Dr. Brennan is." "I-I wouldn't put it that way." "Oh, I didn't." "I'm quoting Dr. Brennan." "Okay." "Let's look at feet." "Oh, very interesting." "Very, very interesting." "I didn't kill anyone." "I-I like puppies and butterflies." "The doctors at Dorchester Mental Health Facility told me that you almost blinded another patient with laundry detergent." "He grabbed my raisins out of my rice pudding." "With his fingers, man!" "What would you have done?" "We found your DNA at a crime scene, Bernie." "I got no idea what you're talking about." "We found your boots by the river." "That's where we got your DNA, right next to a whole bunch of feet." "Can you tell us where those feet came from?" "I don't know, man." "Maybe a fish coughed 'em up." "I just..." "I found the right size shoes, and... took out the feet." "Just like that?" "No." "I threw up first." "Exactly when did this shoe swap occur?" "Eight... eight days ago." "I'm afraid we're going to need those shoes back." "But... man, I just..." "I just broke 'em in!" "No, don't let the Americans take my shoes." "Please." "Even though there's a half-size difference between these two feet, they appear to be a matching pair." "Oh." "60% of the general public has two differently sized feet, and 80% of those have a larger left foot." "That's common knowledge." "The, uh, level of decomp suggests the victim died about two months ago." "Already established." "All of the victims died between one and three months ago." "There are striae on the top of the talus of the right foot." "Unlike the other feet, which disarticulated naturally, this foot was cut off." "When the victim was still alive." "I would have noticed that, of course." "Of course." "I hope you will be comfortable here, Dr. Filmore." "Well thank you." "I'm sure I will be." "My colleagues have been encouraging me to... apologize to you." "Oh?" "I told them that you hadn't asked for an apology." "Well, it wouldn't be appropriate for me to ask for it." "Exactly." "I-I really have no idea what they're talking about." "I'm glad you feel the same way." "Hey." "So, Sweets called to say that the feet washed up at least eight days ago." "So, I checked the National Weather Service charts." "They gave me rainfall and wind patterns, which allowed me to determine where the feet originated." "That's very impressive." "Yes." "Everyone here is quite extraordinary." "Okay." "So the feet came from here, next to the St. Regis River." "The University of Hogansburg, New York." "Hogansburg." "I..." "I know what happened." "Wait..." "A body farm?" "The University of Hogansburg has one of three research facilities where forensic anthropologists can study decomposition of bodies after death." "Wow, okay, you're saying that they have a field of dead people." "Some are in fields, some in water, some hung, some in fires..." "They put the remains in different environments and see how they break down." "All right, that sounds like a really nice school." "I know." "Anyway, there was a storm eight days ago, and part of the Farm flooded, washing seven bodies into the St. Regis River." "Okay, so we're good, then." "No foul play, except for the creepy people who play with the bodies." "Not exactly." "The professor said that seven bodies washed away." "But we have the feet of an eighth person." "This is a murder." "The university sent these photos of the remains that they lost in the flood." "Oh, I've already matched all the feet with the remains." "Oh." "That was fast." "But these feet..." "Judging from the decomp, I place the time of death at approximately two months ago." "Okay." "So he was a murder victim." "Well," "Dr. Brennan would say he could still be alive but footless, because without the rest of the remains, we have no tangible proof of his demise." "I just got the shoes that the homeless guy took." "Nice kicks." "Right?" "Luxury edition, 25th anniversary," "Platinum Kick Parkours." "They retail for $2,000." "Now I'm analyzing the residue in the shoes to see if it matches what I found on the other feet." "In order to ID the victim, we'll need to see if these are, in fact, his shoes." "Can I use the modeling software on your computer?" "We need to construct a wire frame image of the feet to map all their contours, and then we can match them with the impressions made in the sneakers." "Who would pay two grand for sneakers?" "People love to pamper their feet, and rightfully so." "You know, feet are what separate us from less evolved hominids." "How about brains?" "I like to believe the fact we walk upright is the reason our brains developed." "Hey." "Hey, guys, there's a-a serial number on the tongue." "Of course." "They're limited editions." "If we can confirm that these shoes belong to these feet, we can search the serial number for the name of the owner." "Uh, Ms. Montenegro, would you put the 3-D scan of the foot into the corresponding wire frame shoe?" "Yeah." "Yeah." "These are definitely our victim's shoes." "Wow." "You just... out-me-ed me." "I... he..." "We..." "Oh, God." "All right." "All I got between the sobs is..." "Derrick broke up with you?" "Yes!" "Oh." "Because... you wouldn't have sex with him, or...?" "That's... not what he said." "What'd he say?" "That he didn't want to wake up in ten years and realize he'd committed to one person too soon." "That makes sense." "What?" "That... kid's dense." "You know what this means, right?" "That you can date other guys?" "That is... not the right answer." "I can't go to the same college that Derek is going to." "Oh, right." "Really?" "Of... course you can't." "And don't worry, we'll think of something." "What?" "No schools are accepting applications anymore." "I've... got an idea." "So Hodgins determined that the mystery feet had the same mite silk that was found on the other feet missing from the Farm." "Those feet had time of death of two months." "No one was reported missing two months ago." "Which is why more expertise is required than just feet." "Yeah, right." "Gosh." "You're really, you really are not going to stop until this Canadian foot guy is paralyzed from head to toe." "Would you accept an agent who specialized in murders that only occurred in February?" "Okay, that's different." "Not to me." "Oh, I hear they have over 60 decomposing bodies here." "It's exciting, isn't it?" "Look, the liquefaction of tissues is nearly finished." "Ooh, look at that one!" "The anaerobic organisms from the gastrointestinal tract have started the microbial proliferation." "Wow, isn't this amazing?" "No." "And that is nasty." "Okay." "Ah." "Here's a decomp-in-garbage scenario." "Oh!" "Look over here, Booth!" "Hey." "Okay." "They must be establishing baseline timetables for decay in a damp setting with direct sunlight." "He swallow a rat?" "His stomach's moving." "Booth, get back!" "Get back!" "Whoa!" "Fantastic!" "Did you see that, Dr. Brennan?" "I did." "You rarely get to actually see a body rupture from distension." "Oh, um, Professor Peter Simpkins, this is my partner, Special Agent Seeley Booth." "Whoa, that smell." "That would be a combination of bile and the gases from his digestive tract." "Hi, I'm-I'm Norman Hayes, PhD candidate." "It's, uh, quite a thrill to meet you, Dr. Brennan." "Of course." "Thinking maybe we could move down a little bit?" "Oh, of course!" "Of course." "Uh, I understand you recovered the feet of our seven flood victims." "Well, we found another pair." "Another pair?" "Evidence suggests that the victim originated in the same location as your remains." "Do you think someone was murdered here at the Farm?" "Ooh, still a little stenchy, you know?" "Oh, of course." "Of course." "Uh, we need to examine the area that was affected by the flood." "Oh, uh, Norman can show you around after we talk." "Uh, that'd be an honor." "Dr. Filmore." "Yes." "Hey." "I'm Dr. Lance Sweets." "I'm a psychologist with the FBI." "Oh." "So now that Dr. Brennan has her feet, did she send you down here to pronounce me mentally unfit?" "No." "No, no." "I-I'm just here on my own to see if I could be of any help." "You know, you're coming into a new environment..." "And you heard about my arm, and as a psychologist, you're fascinated." "No, I..." "I'm used to it, Dr. Sweets." "But I've seen psychologists, psychiatrists, neurologists, rheumatologists and no one's been able to provide an answer." "And I-I don't mean to be brusque, but I need to get back to work." "Perhaps the psychologists you were seeing weren't as familiar with Dr. Brennan as I am." "You know, her seeming insensitivity and emotional cruelty are merely her way of dealing with an inability to understand or empathize with the feelings of other people." "And you think if I feel sorry for her, my arm will get better." "No." "No, I just meant that, you know, a clear understanding of the situation might be beneficial." "All right, I know you need to work, but if you want to talk, I'll be in my office." "The St. Regis hadn't flooded that badly in 400 years." "Ideally, we wouldn't have projects so close to the river," " but we're running out of usable land." " Why's that?" "Once a body has decomposed in a particular area, it needs to lie fallow before the next decomp scenario can be introduced." "Oh." "Excuse me." "Brennan." "We ID'd the victim." "I traced the serial number on his sneakers." "Wait, sneakers have serial numbers?" "Well, the $2,000 kind do." "Booth, the victim had sneakers worth $2,000." "$2,000?" "That's more than my first car." "They were bought by a kid named" "Dylan McEllroy." "He was a U of H grad student." "Okay." "Thanks, Ange." "You bet." "Are you familiar with a student named Dylan McEllroy?" "Yes." "He's in our graduate program." "He..." "Oh, my God, he's the decedent?" "I thought he'd dropped out." "Any idea how he can afford $2,000 sneakers?" "I don't know." "Dylan could've been wearing lamb chops on his feet, but unless they were decomposing, I really... wouldn't notice." "This is horrible." "Dylan's roommate is a kid by the name of Kent Durham." "Okay, up next, a pair of, uh, low-profile, super limited edition Air Glides, released only in Japan." "Bidding starts at $300." "We got $300 right here, $300." "How about $320?" "We got $340. $360, anybody?" "$340." "$360." "Three... $360 right here." "How about $380?" "$380." "$380?" "Do I hear $400?" "$400." "$400 right here." "Going once, going twice." "Sold, to the dude in the yellow hoodie." "Step right up, don't be shy." "We got limited edition Quick Strikes, uh, one of a kind." "Okay, next item is a pair of Platinum Kick Pros." "Bidding starts at, uh, $150." "What's your name, kid?" "Why?" "Why?" "'Cause the federal government wants to know why." "That's why." "Uh, Kent Durham." "Kent Durham." "Right, Kent, these shoes belong to, uh, Dylan McEllroy, by any chance?" "Can I get back to you on that?" "Sneakers would be a novel motive for murder, Booth." "Murder?" "Dylan is dead." "Okay, wait." "Th-this is not what it looks like." "What it looks like to me is you're trying to sell off your dead roommate's shoe collection." "Okay, it is what it looks like." "It-it's just not what you think." "You have to admit, this looks pretty suspicious." "Look, Dylan was two months late on his rent." "I was just selling the shoes to get the money that he owed me." "The variety is fascinating." "I-I suspect it signifies tribal allegiance." "Oh, there's a definite demarcation of status and hierarchy depending on brand and model." "Let's just circle back to your murdered roommate." "Okay?" "So... why didn't you report him missing?" "I didn't know that he was." "He used to disappear for weeks on his sneaker trips." "Japan, Australia..." "you name it." "And I've been staying with my girlfriend." "Look, all I know is that Dylan owed me a ton of cash and he-he stiffed me on a computer and a speaker system that I sold him." "Where'd he get this money?" "Okay, look." "I had nothing to do with it." "I swear." "With what?" "He probably kept the stuff in the room, but... what was I supposed to do?" "I'm not a cop." "I just stayed out of his way." "Right." "He was dealing drugs." "The mite silk we found on the feet and sneakers came from the Oligonychus ilicis." "Mmm." "That silk is like Velcro." "Any particulate would bind to it." "Exactly." "So I pulled multiple samples, and I ran it through the scanning electron microscope." "That looks like pollen." "Cannabis sativa pollen." "Marijuana." "So, they're harvesting more than bodies at the Body Farm." "Yeah, the victim certainly was." "Booth said he was dealing drugs." "Now we know where he was growing them." "So, uh, you at home here?" "I mean, anything you need?" "Oh, no." "No, thanks." "I'm fine." "Thank you." "You're in America now." "It's okay to get pissed at Dr. B." "She can take it." "Thank you." "You forged Michelle's application and applied to Columbia?" "Could you not say that as though I killed three people?" "Come on." "Did you consider the person that didn't get in because you cheated?" "All right." "I'm a terrible person." "I stipulate to that." "But that's not why I'm here." "You're kidding." "What I need is your advice on how to tell Michelle that she has the option of going to one of the best universities in the world." "Unfairly and illegitimately." "I'd rather not put it to her that way." "I can't help you." "Why not?" "Some sort of professional code of ethics?" "No, my own personal code of ethics." "You should consider putting one together of your own." "Shut up." "Excuse me?" "You know, you have never had to put someone else's well-being ahead of your own." "Not ever." "Well, I am a mother, okay, and if I have to get my hands dirty to get my child ahead, then I will." "What kind of example are you setting for Michelle?" "What are you looking for?" "You know, if you don't mind my asking." "Cannabis." "Any suggestions?" "No." "Wait." "I mean, you're-you're the FBI, so is this, like, entrapment?" "Oh, never mind." "Just tell me where the flood was, will you?" "It was right here." "Each section is allocated for a decomp scenario." "That's a lot of rotting." "We have over 60 active bodies at any one time." "Who are you?" "Mr. Wolfram." "I'm the cadaver technician." "Groundskeeper." "Potato, potah-to." "I get rid of the bodies once they're done with them." "And I tidy up the place, make repairs." "Like I said, groundskeeper." "Then, you can dispose of your own damn cadaver next time." "Pissant." "Uh, so, um, everything past here got washed out." "You worked with Dylan." "What was he like?" "Truth?" "Uh... he was a self-centered dilettante who squeaked by with Cs and Bs because all he cared about were his stupid sneakers." "You feel the same way about him while he was still alive two months ago?" "Well, if you're asking whether I killed him," "I couldn't even if I wanted to." "I-I did a semester abroad at the University of Helsinki." "I just got back three weeks ago." "That's impressive." "Thank you." "So does everybody who works with Dr. Brennan end up in therapy?" "If it's any consolation, she spent three years degrading the entire field of psychology and essentially dismissing my life's work as a foolish waste of time." "And yet, all your limbs work." "Perhaps your arm is a manifestation that you accepted what Dr. Brennan said is correct." "Do you feel that she's correct about you?" "Well, no." "Of course not." "But I have no recourse." "Have you ever considered confronting her, expressing the anger you must feel?" "Dr. Hodgins suggested that." "Did you come to me for permission?" "Confrontation's not a natural state for me." "I'm..." "Canadian." "Canadian... or afraid?" "Know anything about Dylan's business?" "I didn't take out thousands of dollars in student loans to do drugs or hang around people who do." "Well, according to Angela's geo-link, the cannabis was right here." "Right." "Dissolution of the cartilage in the upper vertebrae." "Must have been there for eight days." "All right, nothing like a couple acres of rotting corpses to keep the weed thieves away, right?" "What are you doing, Bones?" "Loading these pictures up to the SkyDrive for Hodgins to analyze." "Why?" "I think it might be the mite silk he found in the remains." "So Dylan was killed here?" "In his own pot field." "But Professor Simpkins inspects all the projects daily." "I-I..." "I mean, he had to have seen these plants." "Look, man, I had no idea marijuana was growing at the Body Farm." "I find it difficult to believe the plants, which can affect decomposition, went unnoticed by you." "I was short-staffed." "Norman was in Finland." "Finland." "Well, my gut tells me, if I get a search warrant, I'm definitely going to find weed that came from that patch." "Won't be necessary." "Dylan and I had an arrangement." "I let him grow, he gave me free product." ""Product."" "Okay, so when we asked you how Dylan could afford $2,000 sneakers, you lied." "Look, if the university finds out, I'll be fired." "I do important work here." "He's right." "He does." "Yeah, he also lies." "The only reason I didn't tell you was that I thought maybe you'd think it was me who killed him." "I mean, it seems silly now that it's all out in the open." "Not to me." "Did you find anything?" "Indeed, I did." "Here." "Check this out." "It's on our SkyDrive." "Okay." "Now, these are the photos" "Dr. Brennan took of the marijuana leaves." "These are all the bugs" "I identified from the mite silk." "Now, yes, some of these little creatures are consistent with what you would find in a marijuana-based ecosystem." "But there are dozens of other species that would normally not be attracted to a dead body or marijuana." "Look at this." "The drone fly." "The green tea ant." "Way out of their zip code." "So why'd those guys come to the party?" "Same reason anyone else does:" "the food." "But what I can't figure out is:" "what type of food would attract so many different species?" "You're going to check the contents of their tiny little bug stomachs now, aren't you?" "You betcha." "Want to help?" "No." "No." "Hey." "Oh, Miss Montenegro." "I have found something quite... quite interesting." "Now, the dimensions of the anterior aspect of the left navicular are three millimeters less than the right." "My God." "Mmm." "How did you even notice that?" "Well, when you have the kind of intimate connection" "I have with feet, you notice any irregularities that might compromise them." "Right." "Oh, I-I don't mean to imply that I'm a podophile." "Excuse me?" "A foot fetishist." "You know, although I appreciate the beauty of feet and the intricate nature of their construction," "I have no desire to..." "to lick them or paint them or..." "Okay, that's..." "Okay." "All right." "Okay." "All right." "So don't a lot of people have, uh, skeletal asymmetry?" "Oh." "Yes." "Which is why Dr. Brennan probably missed it." "She doesn't spend a lot of time on feet, I imagine." "Not important enough for her." "Oh." "Snap." "Oh, no, no." "No, no, no." "No, I-I merely meant that this isn't genetic." "See, some kind of blade shaved a small sliver of bone off the navicular, and it was obviously a much sharper blade than the one that severed his talus, judging by the striae." "Wait a minute." "Dylan was attacked with two different weapons?" "Oh, yeah, I know." "I was surprised, too." "Also, these are non-fixed radius striae, which indicate that both blades were straight and rigid." "And the cuts display smooth walls, which means that the amount of force necessary to do such a thing..." "Dictates a power tool." "Or two power tools, since we're talking about two different blades." "Wow." "That was seriously impressive." "You Americans can be quite enthusiastic." "Some of you." "So what did Dr. Footsie say?" "It seems that the victim was killed with some kind of power tool." "That's good, right?" "Mmm." "Yeah." "Couldn't give the guy some props for that?" "No, I said that his discovery might have value." "But you know that it does." "You know that." "You just don't want someone like him to be as good as someone like you." "With feet." "Just feet." "I get it." "I get it." "But, you know, you really should apologize to him." "I already explained." "I know you did, but come on, Bones, he's hurting." "All right?" "Whether you're right or wrong, you leveled the guy." "He's a grown man." "Sometimes that makes it hurt more." "What makes us human, Bones, is that we can feel compassion and regret." "Why is it so important to you, Booth?" "Because I know the kind of person that you are, and I think you should let other people in on the secret, too." "Right?" "These are the tools from the Body Farm." "So do you want me to input the blade profiles into the imaging software?" "Not necessary." "But Dr. Brennan sent all of these back here..." "I realize that." "And I'd hate it if anyone went to unnecessary trouble but we know that cuts to the feet were made by two different blades, and the blow to the talus cut off the right foot." "And the blow to the navicular was vertical, parallel to the bone." "Two separate injuries made by two different blades." "Judging by the damage to the bone, two separate blades with identical force profiles." "So whoever killed our victim used two circular saws, both applied with equal pressure?" "Which is impossible." "Exactly." "Which is why I posit the blades were connected." "Yes." "Looks like opposing propellers." "How would something like that cut him off horizontally at one ankle and vertically at the other?" "Well, because he started standing up." "One of the blades cut him off at the ankle, and he fell down." "The blade ran him over, taking a slice off the navicular." "In going over the particulates that Dr. Hodgins found on the remains," "I noticed grass." "Yes, marijuana." "Hmm?" "Oh, yes, also regular grass:" "fescue and bluegrass." "Which means?" "It's a riding mower." "Oh, my God!" "The victim was killed by someone on a ride-on lawn mower." "The blades severed the plantar arteries, and he bled out." "Filmore, you did it!" "You're a genius!" "Oh!" "Bug news." "Big bug news." "All of the bugs that we found on the pot leaves, they all ingested this food gel that's used by reptile breeders." "It's an insect super food." "Bugs smell this, they come flying from miles around." "I also found traces of it on the sneakers." "Of course." "This is so exciting." "Really?" "Why?" "The killer covered Dylan's body in the gel." "It would have exponentially increased insect activity." "Hastening decomposition and completely obscuring time of death." "So we would get time of death wrong." "But wait, wouldn't everyone at that Body Farm know how to use that?" "Yes, but from what Booth said, only one of them had an alibi for what we thought was time of death." "I'm guessing, because he knew he'd need one." "There was no trace of blood on the blades because they'd recently been cleaned with bleach." "How many times do I have to tell you guys?" "I was in Helsinki when Dylan was murdered." "You were back for three weeks, right?" "Yes." "Check my travel records, okay?" "The university in Finland." "I mean, there is no way I could have killed him." "Unless Dylan actually died two weeks ago, Norman, and not two months ago." "Right, see, there's a receipt here with your name on it for two gallons of Gro-Fast bug food." "That sped up decomp and gave you the perfect alibi." "Really think you were smarter than Bones here?" "Dylan contaminated your body with his marijuana field." "That was your thesis project." "Simpkins said you'd been working on it for a year, and Dylan comes along and ruins it with his weed." ""Shallow Grave Decomposition in Barren Soil."" "Quite an impressive project, actually." "Barren soil." "I get back from Helsinki, and his weed had spread right over my remains." "$60,000 in student loans and I was gonna flunk because of him." "You think that's right?" "No, but killing him was worse." "I didn't mean to." "I got the mower to cut it all down." "And he... he tried to stop me." "I told him to move." "But he didn't." "I kept thinking he would move." "I'm sorry." "d d" "d You give me something to hold on to d d I hear your voice, and it quiets my mind d" "d Every beautiful melody... d" "What did I write my essay on?" "I used yours." "I tarted it up a little." "Quoted Montaigne, David Foster Wallace." "They're writers." "I know they're writers." "I'm just..." "You're telling me that if I wanted to, I could simply go to Columbia University in the fall?" "Yes." "Mmm..." "Oh..." "I see what's going on here." "Oh, thank God." "I just-I just..." "I want what's best for you." "I know you do, which is why you're testing me." "What?" "Well, surprise." "I've learned a lot from you." "I've learned to try hard and not take shortcuts." "I've learned it's wrong to cheat." "Oh, really?" "But what are you gonna do?" "Here's what I'll do:" "I'll work for a year and make money and I'll take extra courses, and I'll get into Columbia on my own and make you proud." "You already have." "I want to be just like you." "That's sweet, but I think you should aim a little higher." "d Tonight... d" "It was wonderful meeting you, Dr. Sweets." "I've enjoyed my visit." "And you're leaving a hero." "Oh, I'd hardly say." "I know." "That's why I did." "So did you talk to Dr. Brennan?" "Oh, no." "But if you really care about your arm," "I seriously recommend..." "Dr. Filmore." "What now?" "Have I embarrassed you in some way, Dr. Brennan?" "I know the only reason" "I was here was because you wanted the feet that I possessed." "Dr. Filmore..." "Do you deny it?" "Was it my expertise you sought when you called?" "No, it wasn't." "You are brilliant, Dr. Brennan," "I won't deny it, but you are also a close-minded and a thoughtless person." "Yes, I have heard that before which is why I wanted to address the issue of the article I wrote in the journal." "Oh." "While I don't believe that forensic podiatry should be recognized as a separate specialty," "I was remiss in my article not to have noted your remarkable skill and expertise." "You are exceptional, and I strongly doubt we would have solved this case without your help." "For that, I am very grateful and pleased to have had the opportunity to work with you." "Dr. Filmore." "Oh!" "Oh, no, I'm so sorry." "Sweets, what were you...?" "Well, no, I thought his arm would work." "Don't trouble yourself." "I shouldn't have been..." "I shouldn't have been in the way." "I'm fine," "I think." "It works." "Look at that." "I'm glad that you apologized to the Canadian." "I'm proud of you, Bones." "I didn't apologize." "I thought..." "The word "apology" derives from the Ancient Greek "apologia"" "which means "a speech in defense."" "When I defended what I said to him, you told me that wasn't a real apology." "Why don't you think of a word that means you feel bad for making someone else feel bad?" "Contrite." "Ah!" "From the Latin "contritus"" "meaning "crushed by a sense of sin."" "There." "That's it." "Contrite." "Okay, I'm happy that you contrited to the Canadian." "Would you like to hear some more things that I feel contrite about?" "There's more?" "Yes." "I feel contrite that I think your socks are silly." "What?" "Also I am contrite that I think you are foolhardy in the way you approach your cup of coffee." "How do I approach a cup of coffee." "You drink it without checking the temperature and then you complain all day that your tongue is burned." "I feel contrite that I..." "I think that's stupid." "Let's recap, okay." "Foolhardy and stupid." "There' more." "Bones, you don't have to apologize for things that you think." "Oh!" "Believe me, if we had to be sorry for every, single thought..." "Like what?" "Uh, believe me I'm not gonna fall down that path." "You know, I might say something I'm gonna regret later." " No way." " Regret." "The word regret... derives from the old french "regreter...""