A little eggnog with your Yuletide autopsies? Why thank you!
And who're we wheeling under the mistletoe for the good doctor? Perhaps a department store Santa who drops dead of a heart attack right in the middle of some little tyke sitting on his lap rattling off his Christmas wish list? Or a guy who electrocutes himself while attempting to string up his outdoor Xmas Lights? A man impaled when one of his roof-top reindeer decorations comes crashing down onto him, antlers first? For the kids, how about a baby mauled to death by a barnyard goat during the manager scene of a church Christmas pageant? Ho-ho-ho! I think if anyone could make this work, our Dr. G could. Medical Examiners celebrate the holidays too, I'm sure. In their own special way.
Switching from Dr. G ...
These clowns are merely fodder, though; props to give my gal something to do, someone to interact with. But Mary Louise ... man. She continues to slay me. I would kill for her. Christ ... I sound like John Hinkley. (Jodie Foster? Really, John? Maybe 1990 Silence of the Lambs edition but certainly not the 1976 Taxi Driver model. And as it turned out, you didn't stand a chance, even if she had been into insane loner killers. She'd probably pass you by for Aileen Woornos.)