Kendall Stevens sits on the witness stand and watches the video of himself exposing the real deal about Santa. He testifies that any child watching his commentary on the news would have already known the truth -- or should have. Stevens tells about the day his little brother found out Santa wasn't real. Then he says that he shouldn't have been fired for telling the truth. Coincidentally, I was saying just yesterday that I wish I'd never tried to make my oldest kid believe in Santa Claus. The lies and explanations get to be a big pain in the ass, I find. I'm not saying that I care about the outcome of this case at all -- I'm just telling you that it's a timely topic.
At The Restaurant, John tells Kimmy about the day that he realized Santa was a fraud. Kimmy didn't find out until her freshman year in college. John segues into a comment on the sheltered life she's led. She claims that she dated a rock star. Actually, she met one after a concert and he asked her to "touch his willie." She refused (I assume) and that was the "date." Every guy Kimmy's ever dated has been a singer. She loves singers. John says that he had a band in college. Kimmy gets all excited and asks John to sing her a song at The Bar for her Christmas present. John says, "This is our second date. Who the hell said I was getting you anything for Christmas?" Oh, actually, he doesn't say that. Instead he feels silly for lying in order to devirginize Kimmy.
Ally rests her head on Larry's lap and forces him to watch Miracle on 34th Street. Ally admits that it's presumptuous to say so, but she'd have to think twice about having kids with a guy who doesn't love Christmas. Larry drops the bomb on her: he has a seven-year-old son who lives in Detroit with his mother. Ally thought Larry's ex-wife lived in Boston, though. "She does," says Larry. Ally figures out that his son was not a product of wedlock, then. The oboe plays us into commercials. Yes, a child in Detroit is a sad situation.
John tells Richard his predicament. He lied about being a singer. I'm so glad he said that, because at first I was afraid that he was really supposed to be one. I remember his performance during last season's finale. I still wake up in a cold sweat sometimes after having nightmares about it. Richard advises John to cover his lie with a bigger lie -- to say that he has a "throat polyp." What's with the polyps on this show? John declares that he'll tell Kimmy the truth at their lunch that day.
In the Unisex, Mark asks Elaine whether she's picked her song. She hasn't yet. He's concerned that her ploy for attention seems a little desperate. Elaine remarks that this is coming from a man who'd date a woman with a "schlong." Mark inhales loudly. Elaine apologizes for her rudeness and then tells him that she hasn't had a real boyfriend in seven years. She is desperate. I don't know why Mark's giving her a hard time about wanting to sing on stage. There are worse things she could do for attention. She could scream during a wedding. She could hallucinate old R&B singers. She could rub her napkin all over her mouth.
'Tis the Season
Back in the courtroom, a WKGB exec is babbling about losing their viewers' trust. He has to admit that ratings didn't go down after Stevens's "cynical proclamation." However, his grandson was "pole-axed" when he heard it on the news. The defense calls "little Jacob Ray" to the stand. John objects on the grounds that calling a child as a witness is manipulative. Judge Seymore Walsh overrules and postpones little Jacob Ray's testimony until after lunch.
Larry hangs an ornament on a plant in his office. Ally strolls in and slobbers on him a bit. Larry asks if she's disappointed about his having a son. She claims she's not. Larry says that he used to ride sleighs and make snow angels with his son, but since they've been apart, he hasn't wanted to do any of those traditional Christmas activities. Ally looks at him soulfully and says, "But now you have me. I'll replace what you've lost. I could pass for a seven-year-old boy, couldn't I?" Oh, no, that's not what she said. I've got to get the sound adjusted on this old TV set.
Kimmy shows up at lunch with her mother, who is played by Marlo Thomas. Her mother usually accompanies her on all her dates, she says. Wait -- did the rock star offer to show Kimmy's mom his willie, too? John starts trying to confess his lie, but Mommie Purest cuts him off. She squeals that she always told Kimmy she'd end up with a singer. The two women giggle and hold hands. John doesn't tell the truth, after all.
In one of their offices, John tells Richard that Kimmy's bringing her mother to hear him sing at The Bar. He's totally fraught. They rule out John doing his Barry White impression, because John said he sang "rock." Richard remarks that Bob Dylan hasn't hit a note in all the years he's been a star. John frets that he can't dance, either. Richard can help him there, though, because he's been working on moves to make himself hotter in bed. The "It's Not Unusual" vamp starts up. Richard does his best Tom Jones sneer and a little fist-pumping move. John is still worried.
At the closed Bar, Elaine belts "Tomorrow" while the house band looks bored. Elaine prima-donnishly bitches at them and then says that she needs them back there at 5:30 to rehearse again. Larry and Ally have been watching the whole time. Ally asks Elaine if she's really going to sing "Tomorrow." Elaine will, because "it's about waking up to a better world -- finding somebody." She leaves, and Larry remarks that at least she's more buoyant. Ally declares that she's going to get Larry into the holiday mood with a theme song. They sit at the piano. The house band has silently disappeared. Ally nasally sings a few lines of several annoying Christmas songs. She suggests that they go to Detroit for Christmas to visit Sam, Larry's son. Presumptuous much, Ally? What makes you think he wants his son to meet you? Larry explains that his wife takes Sam to visit her family in Canada. Ally asks what Larry plays when he sits at the piano alone all woeful and stuff. He says "New York, New York" and something else that sounded like "Shout." I figured he meant the Tears for Fears song. He and Ally touch noses and she tells him, "I have to pee." Man, I hate Ally McBeal. She goes to the restroom and Larry launches into a little ditty. He sings exactly like Don Henley -- maybe Don with a little Joe Cocker thrown in. His song is about skating away on a river. He busts out the soulful falsetto while Ally solemnly watches. You can tell she's annoyed that he sings better than she does.
Richard and John work with a tiny karaoke machine. A semi-bluesy track plays and Richard husks, "I wanna tell you a story," into the mike. John tries it and causes feedback. He worries that he'll fall flat on his face. Richard's not worried because he took out a little insurance. "What kind of insurance?" asks John.
We see Richard trying to convince Nelle to flirt with The Bar patrons so they'll cheer for John. Whatever. He's asked Ling as well, he says. Nelle doesn't see how she can get people to cheer just by smiling at them. Richard gratuitously grabs her arm, dips her, and tells her that her hair makes men want to whisk her away. She tries to make a comically frightened face. Whatever, whatever. This might have been the Most Contrived Scene of the Hour, but I'm not certain because I haven't watched the whole tape yet.
Outside at a hot-wassail stand or something, Ally carps to Renee about Larry's holiday blues. She's upset because he always cheers her up, and she can't deal with the focus being on him instead. Renee points out that It's a Wonderful Life is about a guy trying to commit suicide. I guess that was supposed to be helpful. No wonder Ally needs someone who's good at cheering her up. Renee assures her that Larry will be fine. "He's got you," she coos, kissing Ally on the cheek and then on the forehead. Great. Now Lisa Nicole Carson has to do coke and methamphetamines, too.
Back in court, Little Jacob Ray tearfully testifies about the way he felt when he heard Kendall Stevens's commentary. Ling goes up to cross-examine, calling Jacob "honey" and warming him up with some sweet talk. Then she talks about the implausibility of eight reindeer hauling a guy around the world in one night. She wonders how the boy could believe that, since he can read and he's been on a plane. "Are you retarded, Jacob?" she asks. At this point I feel compelled to mention that I have a son named Jacob who is also eight years old. What a coincidence. Ling finally gets little Jacob Ray (Ray is my husband's middle name. We often jokingly call our son Jacob Ray.) to admit that the idea of Santa Claus is stupid. John smirks.
In his office, Larry wears a blinking red ball on his nose and apologizes to Ally for being a wet blanket. He clicks a remote and the nose turns blue. Ally hauls him off to see Elaine's performance.
Elaine giver her heart-rending rendition of "Tomorrow" while her co-workers look uncomfortable. Mark's the only one smiling. Kimmy and her mom are singing along, though. Then everyone in the bar sings along except the Fish & Cagers. These people are supposed to be Elaine's friends, aren't they? Larry does the final harmonizing note jokingly.
“ Get it? They're called WKGB because they're restricting Stevens's right to tell the truth. So they're commie pinkoes. Did you get it? ”
The pantyhose commercial that I hate comes on. It's the one about a woman meeting her husband's new female colleague at an office party. Subtitles show us that the woman is insecure because the colleague is "a waif." Then we're shown the product being advertised, which is control-top pantyhose. The voice-over says, "We know how it is." This commercial is the perfect complement to Ally McBeal because its message is confusing and offensive at the same time. Are they telling us that the colleague looks thin because she wears control-top hose? Or are we supposed to believe that we can keep our husbands from having affairs by wearing the hose, ourselves? All I know for sure is that the woman in the commercial is insecure about weight issues, and that we're being asked to buy a product that makes us uncomfortable but slim-looking. I think they should have just shown the wife punching the colleague with lots of silly CGI effects. Then the husband could say, "She's the most amazing woman on earth!" to the camera, and we'd all feel just as good about ourselves. And I still wouldn't buy the pantyhose, either.
At the courthouse, Larry runs into Kimmy. She's there to see her John's closing. Larry has some time, so he goes along. Okay, this is it. This is the most contrived scene. John starts out saying that Kendall Stevens wasn't traumatizing children -- he was trying to protect them from trauma. Then John segues into something smarmy about adults needing Santa more than children do. Then that turns into a piece of tripe about Stevens safeguarding the "sacred union" between parent and child. Larry looks like a sad robot, presumably because he hasn't had any kind of union with his son for the past four years. The defense attorney states that WKGB has the right to terminate Stevens for violating viewers' trust and employers' wishes. Get it? They're called WKGB because they're restricting Stevens's right to tell the truth. So they're commie pinkoes. Did you get it?
In the F&C lobby, Ally yells at Richard that John's going to embarrass himself on stage. Nearby, Mark compliments Elaine's singing and asks whether she got any dates out of it. She tells him it wasn't about getting dates. "My question was, did you get one?" says Mark. Elaine admits that she didn't. He asks if she wants one. I've said it before, but damn, that Mark is smooth. If it weren't for his susceptibility to homophobic peer pressure, I'd say that he's the biggest catch on the show. I know some people are adverse to his teeth, but it's really more about attitude than looks for me. Ally's and Richard's busybody alarms go off and they shut up in order to eavesdrop. Elaine accepts Mark's offer. He says, "Oh, I know this is a stupid question, but I'm gonna ask anyway..." As we saw on the promo, Elaine says, "I don't have a penis." "Excellent," says Mark. They decide to meet at eight.