Note: I wasn't joking. This is complete and utter crack. There is nothing redeeming about it. I just can't help but make fun of the finale.

"How did you do it, Murdoch? How did you prove your innocence while you were behind bars and everyone else was either dead or dying, myself included? Did Detective Watts and Miss James come through in the end with a brilliant scheme?"

"Not at all, sir. Detective Watts was dragged into the adjoining holding cell shortly after he belatedly appeared at mine. As to Miss James, I haven't the foggiest notion of where she has gotten off to. She hasn't shown up for work in over a week. We perhaps should look into that."

Brackenreid waves a dismissive hand. "Later. Right now I want to hear how you pulled one over on those tossers and saved the day like usual."

"It's very simple, sir, I recorded the real perpetrators with the hidden, miniaturized scrutiny cameras I installed in our hotel room. I only pretended to go on the run to dissuade Davis and the others from realizing the truth."

"Why the bloody hell would you do something so ridiculous? Installing the cameras, I mean?"

"It's hardly ridiculous, sir. Need I remind you of the unfortunate events that transpired exactly one year ago, to the day?"

Brackenreid gives him a blank look so Murdoch elaborates, "When Julia was shot, Worseley killed, and I was abducted by Eva Pearce? I believe you were even unlucky enough to come across poor Worseley in our bed."

"Oh, right. Those events." He takes a drink of the whiskey perpetually in his hand. "Say, Murdoch, don't you think you should get yourself a new bed for you and the missus?"

"Oh, I hardly think that necessary, sir. Despite the added weight of various corpses, its structural integrity is still intact. As to the blood stains, Julia is quite proficient at removing them from a variety of different fabrics. Given the nature of her work..." Murdoch makes a vague gesture towards his abdomen, "and monthly courses."

Privately Brackenreid wonders if The Murdoch's get off on having corpses in the bedroom. Wouldn't put it past them after that time he caught them enjoying marital relations in the morgue.

"That's too much information, Murdoch! I don't want to hear about your wife's bloody courses!"

"It's a perfectly natural phenomenon that nearly half the world's population experiences at some point in their life." Murdoch gives him a pointed look. "Including your own wife."

Brackenreid looks shell shocked, like all the whiskey in the world has suddenly evaporated into thin air.

"Considering recent events, sir," says Murdoch, getting back on track, "and the rampant corruption of the constabulary, do you think perhaps we should install scrutiny cameras in the station houses? Or at the very least, the holding cells?"

"If we did something ridiculous like that, me old mucker, then how could we enact our faulty locks gag for the third time?"

Brackenreid gives him a wink.

"Quite right, sir," says Murdoch with a mischievous look towards the camera like at the end of The Murdoch Effect. "Quite right, indeed."

If I even amused one of you, my job here is done.

I am actually working on a slightly more legit fic...but it's slow going...and I'm not sure if I like it or if I'll even post it. But there's 7 months to kill now, so who knows?