Abruptly, Donald has had enough.
“I’m beginning to think we’re making a big mistake. Perhaps we SHOULD call the police.”
Anybody else remember how Ann Marie used to say that to her boyfriend?
Well, this is a little corny. But still.
“What are we DOING?” NotDonaldHollinger asks.
“Whoever did this is toying with us.”
“They’re doing exactly what you said they would do. Planting evidence, manipulating us. Well, enough is enough. I’m going.”
He packs! (A pink shirt. Is that significant?)
There’s that word again. Good thing Murphy isn’t around to get all confused again.
Brilliant deduction! Yet another crack detective with killer instincts.
“Seems to be flirting with the idea,” Steele confirms.
Wait. I thought you played detective every day. Isn’t that what you do for a living?
“I also have problems with playing sitting duck for a murderer.”
Eureka! The case is solved! And the murderer is …
Well, that’s an unexpected twist!
Don gets touchy feely with Murphy. “I’ll make it a point to stop off at the police on my way home.”
Wait a second – what’s that on top of Don’s suitcase?
“It’s a .38. The one I saw in Carl’s room.”
(He knows the same one because it’s got “Use This to Kill Alan” written on the grip in sharpie.)
And here we go again.
“This is getting very boring,” Steele assess. (I’m inclined to agree.)
“Have Murphy give one of them the gun, and let’s be done with it.”
Murphy can get a job as a referee for the World Wrestling Federation after this case.
“Of COURSE it was you!” Carl says. “You planted a gun in my suitcase, you let Murphy see it, then you took it back to KILL ALAN!”
Donald looks a little worried. “None of you believe that. You know I wouldn’t kill Alan, don’t you?”
Oh, ho! Now it’s getting interesting. This Alan was quite the play-ah!
“How when you were back at Havenhurst, he used to make you do all his dirty work for him. Took credit for all your accomplishments. Used to tell jokes about you behind your back – sometimes to your face.”
Well, that’s just mean.
“Sure, sure, but that was ALAN,” Donald insists. “I mean, I admired Alan. And I’ll tell you something else. I LIKED being the second guy through the door- As long as that first guy was Alan.”
Now we know who Donald really was in this office.
Screech continues. “Alan was very good. Sure, he could ride roughshod over your feelings. But we were a team. If he were here, he’d tell you that.”
(Anybody else think they’re subtly suggesting Don was in love with Alan?)
“Team, huh,” Carl mocks. “That’s why when he left Havenhurst, he didn’t take you with him. Stole every client your agency had and left you the king of NOTHING.”
Wait. Havenhurst was DONALD’S agency? He was the clueless, weak-willed boss whose employees ran roughshod over him? Guess he isn’t Screech after all.
He’s WKRP’s Mr. Carlson.
“Anyway, it was YOU who stole my clients, not him. As SOON as Alan heard about it, he called me.”
“I couldn’t kill Alan,” Donald persists, apparently prepared to swallow anyone who contradicts him. “I counted Alan Grievey among my closest personal friends. I remember this one case that we were on together – me doing the legwork, Alan handling the client relationships, dinner and whatnot. The firm that hired us said it, ‘You two are a hell of a team.'”
Well, THAT sounds familiar.