TONIGHT ON MURDER SHE WROTE, we find ourselves in a closed-off location surrounded by vaudeville comedians! Ahhhh!

Buddy Hackett and Steve Lawrence are bitter adversaries after breaking off their Martin-and-Lewis-esque comedy partnership decades ago, so it's a shock when their kids inexplicably fall in love and want to get married. Everyone meets at a rustic lodge to have it out with each other, and when an attempted murder and an actual murder spice up the weekend, well, it sort of puts that old rivalry into perspective. Oh, and Jessica Fletcher (Angela Lansbury) is there for some reason.

Suspicions are further raised with agent (George Furth) versus accountant (Arte Johnson) when the comedy duo's video cassette sales seem to be making someone money... but who!?

This is one of the quintessential episodes of Season 3, and Petra Fried and Viktor Devonne sink their teeth promptly into it. From the bottle episode energy, the illustrious guest stars (George Clooney! Sheree North! Large Marge from Pee Wee's Big Adventure!), and the vicious quips back and forth between Hollywood legends, it may be NO LAUGHING MURDER, but it's a classic.

TONIGHT ON MURDER, SHE WROTE... SIMON SAYS, COLOR ME DEAD. The story behind that enigmatic half-joke will be revealed!

Lauded painter—and resident of Cabot Cove—Simon Thane (Foster Brooks) is found stabbed with a carving knife after a tense dinner with friends, and purportedly his last piece leads the way to the killer— but it goes missing, too. Immediate suspects are a study in class struggle; as "the girl" Irene Rutdlege (Tess Harper), who the Thanes employ as housekeeper and cook, is spotted late at night, spattered with blood; plus there's always his affluent guests of the evening, who include our liaison between worlds, Jessica Fletcher (Angela Lansbury).

Power couple The Selbys (Dick Sargent and Ann Dusenberry), pass-around party bottom art dealer Felix (Leonard Frey), and The Wife (Diane Baker) are all on the list, but Sheriff Tupper (Tom Bosley) is content to let Irene swing for it as long as he gets to adopt Irene's precocious adolescent child (Chris Hebert). Throw in a mysterious stranger who peers from car windows (Steve Inwood), and the plot thickens like oil paints left out overnight.

Viktor and Petra deconstruct the complications of hero worship, maternity fraud, emotional affairs, and Jessica's search for the owner of a lighter that might bring it all together. It's a wowza of a killer's confession, an anthology of women's hairstyles of the era, and a preponderance of handsome Cabot Cove deputies we only see once.

TONIGHT ON MURDER, SHE WROTE, we are back in Boston watching guys punch each other, between shots of Angela Lansbury slowly putting on her sneakers, preppy strolls in a sweatvest, and rides in cabs with unconvincing city backdrops.

In this ambitious but insecure backdoor pilot for Harry McGraw (Jerry Orbach) and his private investigations, we surprisingly find ourselves in the world of boxing. Harry is propping up Blaster Boyle (Harold Sylvester), a nearly past his prime fighter who is being compelled to take a dive. A suspiciously motivated journalist (LaVar Burton) and his gal Friday (Lynne Moody) are on the case, and just when they're ready to expose the shenanigans, an Adam West-shaped corpse throws a wrench in the works, and Harry is implicated.

Needing Jessica's help (and her $5,000), Harry calls upon our favorite New Englander busybody to not only clear his name, but bring his boxer to his fighting weight. It makes about as much sense as it sounds, and if it seems like it's not possible to fit it all in 47 minutes, you are right! This extra-sized episode is often truncated to an inscrutable edit that does it no favors.

With appearances from John Amos, Ernest Borgnine, Bradford Dillman, and Caren Kaye, this experimental period in the show's development of season 3 continues with Petra Fried and Viktor Devonne trying to keep up with makeshift flashbacks and missing pieces, knowing it will somehow come out with a sunny walk in a park and the thrilling examination of a dingy sofa cushion.