Bored to Death plots by its own rules. With a little trimming, “Gumball†could have easily fit into last week’s episode and kicked off the season in one fell swoop. It could also have acted as the season finale (given episodes in between, of course, to deepen the mystery). But it falls somewhere in the middle; two weeks into the third season, last week’s cryptic crime has been solved, the gang is back together, and the larger issue at hand — the whereabouts of Jonathan’s real father — is merely teased. It takes a little bit of time, but Bored to Death always delivers the goods. Unless, of course, the goods are shots of Zach Galifianakis licking whiskey nipples as a sort of twisted foreplay. In that case, the goods are nowhere to be found.
Like I said before, in and of itself, this episode plus the premiere would have been a satisfying-enough arc for just one episode, or potentially dragged out for a season. The fact that the show’s moving boldly forward has me psyched for what’s to come. It took Bored to Death a while to find its footing — to put it another way, for that whiskey to get to the nipple — but now it’s time to suck the rewards.