Episode Report Card 1 USERS: B+ YOU GRADE IT Misfortune
By Chuck | Season 5 | Episode 5 | Aired on 02.02.2002
As they jog together, Beecher asks Adam about his visit with his family. His mom cried, he says. It was embarrassing. Then Beecher, who runs like a girl, tells Adam that he should be glad someone cries for him and that it's time they stop running. And then shoves Adam's head into his groin in a friendly "I told you to stop running, asswipe" gesture, since Beecher needs to get Adam and his precious bum back to Em City before he goes to work for the steely nun. Adam tells Beecher that he needs to become his own man, and that he can't wait to see how he looks in Revlon's popular "Yummy Boyhole" lipstick, which won't smudge no matter how many blowjobs you give. I can't wait either. There's Franklin, doing curls. In curls. "Hey, handsome," he greets Adam, who's disgusted by the woman Franklin has become. "I'm in here because of you," says Franklin, in a non-Muslim way. "I didn't want to rape that girl." Adam's all holier-than-thou about not wearing animal-tested makeup, but Franklin says it's just because he's got Beecher, and is likely paying the same price for protection, just in more understated outfits. Adam, not shy about hitting girls, attacks Franklin.
In McManus's office, Adam says that Franklin "came onto me and I had to set him straight." He's sarcastic as McManus says -- big surprise -- that he's going to be lenient. If I were McManus, I'd slap that arrogant smirk off his face in two seconds flat if he pulled that shit on me. But then, I'd have a spine. Adam trots down the stairs and acts short with Beecher, who puts his hand on Adam's shoulder (big mistake!) and wonders if everything's okay. "Don't be fucking touching me," growls Adam, as he stalks away.
Schillinger, sharing, about "'omosexuality," as he calls it. Looks like a Said-less interaction. Anyway, Schillinger's sorry that, during their last session, he minimized the pain he caused Beecher. Sister Pete, who looks like she just stepped out of a salon (for nuns), looks on expectantly, as Schillinger admits that he abused Beecher when he arrived and wants to apologize. Pete asks Beecher, a frown where his neck used to be, if he accepts. Beecher doesn't know.
Katherine McClain, sporting what looks like a leviathan comb-over (or a fallen soufflé) atop her head, confers with Keller. The local DA will be prosecuting, as the FBI would need to prove that Keller brought Tibbets's body across state lines for dumping, which they can't. Keller, legs spread, rubs his thighs to draw attention to his crotch. It works. Keller maintains that dumping the body doesn't mean he killed Tibbets, and McClain explains what she does all day, and then wonders why he had the body if he didn't kill Tibbets. "Wasn't me," says the sexual riddler. McClain brings up the pesky line-up and the pesky witness, but Keller, leaning forward and inspiring a look in Katherine that is at once frightened and hungry, reminds his crackerjack lawyer that everything went down at night. When it's dark. And you can't see. She and her jaunty hair-beret counter that Keller could plead his own case. "You're prettier," he says. "Not by much," she says. And then a buzzer rings, signaling that it's time for our next contestant in this installment of Kris Keller's Kreepy Innuendo Korner. Claire arrives as Keller asks Katherine to tell Beecher about a dream he had in which Beecher was elected President. Claire, who looks like she put a bowl on her head and cut around it with her eyes closed, gives Katherine a withering look from the top of her ill-advised 'do to her presumably cheap shoes and steps into Keller's cell to tell him about her own dream. They were gladiators. He was Sextus. She was Cunnilinga. I think her gladiator name should be Vagina Dentata. Or Stinkypuss. They start making out.