Los Angeles 2030. The future is implants.
We get a nice view of the still-standing Hollywood sign, but what's this? A behemoth of a hovering spaceship aiming pointy metal sticks and releasing a flood of...bubbles? Oh, it's a holographic videogame that some snot-nosed kid is playing. Whew! I was about to be worried for our future. "That's a scary game," someone breaks in as we see the kid playing in some corporate lobby. "Actually? It's kind of stupid," says the kid. I told you he was snot-nosed. A slim blonde in a slim sleeveless black pants suit walks in and wonders if "Darwin" has read the file on a breach of contract. "No, but I'm sure you did," Darwin responds. "Darwin" turns out to be the boss-jerk from another show I recapped called First Years. He was a lawyer in that as well. Man, talk about being typecast. "I see you as a skanky lawyer always dodging sexual-harassment suits because the women you work with can't resist your crooked smile no matter how many comments you make about the pubic hair garnish on their Diet Cokes." You can't see me, but I'm doing that weird thing with my hands that directors do when they affect to frame a shot without a camera. Anyway, considering his response to the blonde about reading the file, it sounds like not only is he a jerk, but he's a jerk who doesn't do his own homework. Tom Montero, Battorney-at-Law, joins the party and twits Darwin for not being invited to "Hannah's" meeting, before sitting down and showing the kid how to play his holographic videogame. Battorney Montero really gets into the game, bouncing on the couch before he loses the game. "That's stupid," Miss Practically Perfect in Every Blonde Way announces as the "Game Over" disappears. "That's what I said," says the kid. Darwin asks for about the fifth time who the kid is. "We use special rates for kids," Battorney Montero tells the kid, and asks if he's there to see a lawyer. The kid's father is. See, with the whole playing of the videogame and the special rates and the bouncing on the couch, we're supposed to think that Battorney Montero is the nice kind of Peter Pan lawyer who takes time to hang with kids.
In another office, Ira from Ira and Barry's Ice Cream is telling two more lawyers about his problems. ["That would be David Paymer, most recently of Line Of Fire." -- Wing Chun] He's trying to get something back that was confiscated at Customs. Horatio Hornblawyer reads from a paper, "'The vy-al wuz found in a showlder bayg carried bhy subject. Subject vahlinteered that he wuz owner uv the bag and awl contents. Subject demanded the vy-al be returned.'" Oh, no. OH NO -- what is with the accent, Ioan?! Moan. I mean, talk about vy-al. I know some UK actors get around the American accent by putting a southern spin on it but, dudes, I already have one bad southern accent to recap; I don't need another. Especially from so pretty a mouth. Horatio Hornblawyer slides a device the size of an AirPort card over to the middle of the table and presses a flat button. A purple holographic pill spins around. Futuristic Viagra? No, I guess this is a projection of the vy-al in question. The client wants his vy-al back. "That would be an admission that you broke a federal law," the other lawyer in the room reminds him. The client doesn't care about paying the fine or doing a year in prison, he needs the vy-al back. Right about this time, Battorney Montero walks in and expositions himself. "The Congressman," Ira says shaking his hand. "Ex-Congressman," Battorney Montero corrects him. "The people wised up. Is this your boy out here?" Battorney Montero presses a button that makes the opaque white windows in the boardroom become transparent so that they can see into the lobby, where the kid sits swinging his legs. Man, they have better gadgets than Star Trek! I guess in the future, it's still the lawyers and not the government-funded scientists who are making the big bucks. Battorney Montero compliments Ira on his son. "He's my whole life," Ira says, grinning fanatically at Horatio Hornblawyer, who asks again what is in the vy-al. "It's a clone of my son, and if you don't get it back for me, he's going to die," Ira says. Horatio Hornblawyer looks over into the lobby as though the kid might die right then and there.
The credits. Well, they're definitely about a pound of Pt. Reyes Original Blue. I mean, they're somewhat stinky, but they have the potential to be interesting. They also have some weird D.C. Comics quality that I'm not entirely sure I don't like. The slide ruler dateline along the bottom does remind me a bit of the Enterprise opening, with that show's overlay of maps. They do pull out Roe v. Wade rather more prominently than any of the other dates ticking along the bottom so we can remember what is happening in our time. They also want us to know what sort of stuff they're dealing with in 2030 and flash "Cyberdivorce" right to Ioan's credit. Is that a presentiment of things to come, given the suggestion in this episode of his possible past indiscretions? "Genetic Rights" also pops up larger than the other text. As for the music, all I can say is I'm happy there are no lyrics, but it sounds rather tribal and ancient for such a futuristic show. Again, I'm not entirely sure I don't like it.
Back in the boardroom where all the lawyers are now gathered, Horatio Hornblawyer explains the facts of the clone case: "Axel Sisto was born with a defective liver. He's had three operations so far, but he needs a compatible liver transplant or he'll be dead in a year." Axel? The kid's name is Axel? So, given the title of this episode, I have to think of Axl Rose, which makes me think of Briar Rose from Sleeping Beauty and you know, roses have thorns. Thorn was the name of the vampire's dog in The Lost Boys. The Lost Boys was filmed in Santa Cruz (called Santa Carla in the movie, "the murder capital of the United States"), and tomorrow we're taking the Pacific Coast Highway (also known as the PCH or Route 1) down to Santa Cruz. Do you see how everything centers on me? "When he said 'born with a defective liver,' I thought I heard him say that Axel was 'born into a defective litter.' Like, that's how they have kids in the future: In a box under the stairs," the Evil Dr. Mathra interjects. My question is, and I'm no genetic scientist, mind, but won't the clone also have a defective liver? I mean, if they harvest the clone's liver cells, don't they have the potential to be just as messed up as the prototype's liver since they're, well, CLONES?! The father's liver isn't compatible because he got Hepatitis-D "back in the teens" (by which they mean the 20teens, I guess, and not Ira's teenage years), and the waiting list for juvenile transplants is three years. Hector wonders why Ira didn't have another kid "the old-fashioned way." Ira's a widower. "Well, he could have strapped on a mate-finder and scanned for women who want to have organ donor babies," Darwin callouses. It's kind of hard to tell which part of that sentence is sarcastic.
Okay, so Ira and Axel went to Singapore, where they took cells from Axel's arm and made the clone cell mass. The cell mass is supposed to be implanted into a surrogate mother, and after the clone is born, half of its liver will be used as the donor organ. "Which it won't mind giving up for its brother?" Hannah asks. "Well -- its twin. Its self. Wouldn't you do the same for an identical sibling?" Horatio Hornblawyer asks. I'd do it for you, Ioan. Battorney Montero makes some comment about biting his brother when he tried to take his meatball sub. Chuckle from all except me, because all I can think of it the Mozzarella Ball that became Trip's clone. Cloning is legal in Singapore and illegal in the U.S., but there's no law about what happens to a clone once it gets into the country. Horatio Hornblawyer shows what his heart is made of when he prefers to take the case on a pro bono basis. Darwin the Dick puts up an argument citing the fact that they have "new furniture" to pay for and can't afford to float freebies. Hannah asks Lee May (Miss Practically Perfect in Every Blonde Way) if she has an opinion. She doesn't. That's going to make being a lawyer very hard for her. Hannah says she need a reason to take this on. "Because we can help this child!" Horatio Hornblawyer insists. "Better reason," states Darwin the Dick. Horatio Hornblawyer cocks his head: "Because I can win." Sigh. "Remember when you had that kind of passion?" Hector asks no one in particular. Maybe he's talking to himself. Hannah makes a decision: "Move for summary judgment, emergency basis. In case the Customs Service forgets to keep the clone in a freezer." Ah, clone Popsicle jokes, they do get old. The meeting breaks. Hannah holds back Battorney Montero and tells him that she wants him to take on the case with Horatio Hornblawyer so that he can keep a bat eye on him. If the case goes to a place that could hurt the firm, Hannah wants the whole thing dropped. "When did you become such a hard-ass?" asks Battorney Montero. "When my name went on the door," says Hannah, flicking a bit of exposition from her suit.
The Kooky Kase is now in session. Darwin the Dick escorts a Kevyn Aucoin look-alike and two other pretty boys into his office. T.J., a former band member, is suing them because he wants to be able to join the comeback tour. Kevyn Aucoin tells Darwin and Lee May that they dropped T.J. from the band because he didn't fulfill his contractual obligations to keep himself in "good physical shape and appearance to perform in public." God, it sounds like a Wolfram and Hart clause. They did do a good job of getting really plastic-looking guys, though. Darwin will attempt a quick settlement since the band's sales are down and they're itching to tour in order to pay their M A C bills. "You don't know T.J.," says one of the Plasticmen. "He doesn't know me," Darwin dicks. Oh, the posturing of lawyers. It's about as played as these band members.
Hector plays with his food. He even eats some. "Cherries without pits: greatest invention of the century," he mumbles. "Cherries had pits?" Horatio Hornlawyer asks. Dude, how old are you? I'm sure you were alive when cherries had pits even if you were only a baby. It's still your history. Gah, this show is going to be full of stuff like this, isn't it? I don't mind if it makes sense, but that...didn't. "Grapes had seeds," Hector adds. "Did ice cream have bones?" Horatio Hornlawyer asks. Bones? I don't even know what the hell he's talking about. "That was before my time," says Hector. Horatio Hornlawyer then brings up the writs of replevin for his Clone Case as the most straightforward way to recover property. According to Hector, the writs of replevin are a bit out of date. The upshot is (and it takes us a long meandering time to get there, as is a lawyer's wont) that Horatio Hornlawyer wants to prove that the detention, not the taking, of the clone is illegal, and therefore should be given back to its rightful owner. Hector has been picking up some food and smelling it and finally asks, "What the hell are these?" So, in the future we can't recognize food? "I guess those were food cubes," the Evil Dr. Mathra thinks. Summaries of this show says that Hector Elizondo plays the "wise senior partner" in Century City. Is there ever a role he has where he doesn't play the "wise something-something"? In Pretty Woman, he was the wise hotel manager; in Necessary Roughness, he was the wise football coach; in The Princess Diaries, he was the wise chauffeur/queen-lover; in Runaway Bride he was the wise photographer; and in Tortilla Soup, he was the wise chef-father. If he ever gets to star in Six Feet Under, he will undoubtedly play the wise corpse of the week.
Horatio Hornlawyer twinkles his eyes with brash, young optimism as he leads Ira to a room and tells him they won't have to go to trial if they win today. In the corner of the brushed metal room, a boy in black fiddles with things. Battorney Montero is already there, and he tells Horatio that he thinks the case has interesting public-policy implications, and that he wants to help out. Horatio is glad until Battorney Montero admits that he didn't practice much law before he got into politics. "Activating courtroom, Commander!" the boy in black says in a weird accent. Ira, Battorney Montero, and Horatio turn to look at him in surprise. "Don't mind him," Horatio advises Ira. Since the line Boy In Black delivers is totally normal, I was very confused. Then I realized he was trying to be Scotty. I cracked up at the Star Trek shout-out, but was very confused as to why he sounded more like Chekov than Scotty. The Evil Dr. Mathra thought he sounded Indian. A bubble flashes up to show a judge at a table picking at the dandruff on her robes. Horatio is happy with the judge selection. In his normal voice, Boy in Black announces, "Our honorable opponent, United States Attorney." B.D. Wong's hologram appears upside-down. There are white lines moving up and down the hologram, which makes me shout, "He's being scanned by an unknown ship!" Horatio's not happy with their opponent, and asks that Boy in Black put him right side up. After Boy in Black does this, we can see Wong pull out a wedgie. Okay, the dandruff thing was slightly amusing, but now with this? It's dumb. After the judge ascertains that everyone has her hologram right side up, they start with the arguments. Judge decides the case needs to go to trial. Horatio cites Reconstruction Act of 2009, and asks for a jury. He gets it. Judge bangs her gavel metallically and says, "What's , Harry? I need a pit stop." So everyone is crasser in the future? I don't understand why the holographic projections would make people less aware of general comportment than if they were being seen in real life. "So we lost?" Ira asks. "Just the first round," Horatio smiles. There's a hissing noise, and we see Hologram Wong's head inflating as he looks around. Boy in Black steals up behind him and pops his hologram head with his finger. Ira jumps. I realize he's playing U.S. Attorney Chin here, but there's no way I can look at B.D. Wong and not think of his role as Howard Weinstein, assistant wedding planner. He had such a great voice in that movie, "Doe, doe fiiiive thooooowsand dollars a head." Always talked through his nose, though.
As they do research, Darwin tells Lee May he thinks it's destiny that they are working together. On a wall-sized hanging Lucite board, Lee May brings up files and images as she types from a console in the middle of the room. That's pretty cool. In a typically skanky way, Darwin comes on to Lee May. She rebuffs. "Boyfriend?" he asks. "No," she says. "Lesbian?" he asks. Now, why wouldn't he just say "girlfriend?" Oh, right, because he's a dick. Lee May answers no to that one as well. "Lukas?" "Not. Interested," Lee May repeats. Darwin wonders if he hit a sore spot. "Lukas is married," Lee May expositions. Yeah, to me, so hands off, bimbo! Based on her résumé, Darwin doesn't think Lee May would "shrink from a challenge." "I got tired just reading it," Darwin adds. "See, that's the thing, Darwin. The younger guys? They don't get tired," Lee May smirks. Darwin stammers over how old she thinks he is. Lee May suggests that they get back to work. Yeah, working on a sexual-harassment lawsuit, sheesh!
Okay, so what's happening here? Is it a blipvert? Not really; it's more like we're in a hover-car going impulse.
An old man joins Lee May, Darwin, and the Old Men on the Block. When Darwin catches sight of the old man and his fat, bearded lawyer, he's all, "That's the guy you kicked out?" and Kevyn Aucoin is all, "Chah! Now you see why!" Darwin greets them and quickly is made to realize that the old man -- not the fat, bearded dude -- is T.J. I was confused by his confusion, because I actually realized right away that the old gent was the ex-crooner and never even considered Comic Book Guy as anything but his lawyer. I'm smarter than Darwin. T.J. further verifies his identity by saying, "Yeah, lead singer. 'I'll Be Loving You Girl Tomorrow Morning.'" At Darwin's flabbergasted face he adds, "I was the cute one?" Lee May remembers her grandmother singing that song. T.J. adds that in 1982 they were the boy band that knocked the Go-Gos off the chart. Whatever: as Wing already pointed out to me, there weren't any boy bands in the early '80s that answer to this description. Why not make them a boy band of the early to mid-'90s? Sure, they wouldn't be in their seventies, but they would still be expected to look older than twenty-two, and therefore the plasticized point would still be there. Darwin keeps with the flabbers and the gasts as he realizes that the Old Men on the Block are sixty-six, sixty-nine, and seventy-two. "But that information is subject to attorney/client privilege -- it doesn't get out," Kevyn Aucoin states. Why? I mean, unless they change their identity and keep reinventing themselves as a different boy band every twenty years, wouldn't their fans know how old they are? Maybe people of the future can't do arithmetic. "We've had some work done," Kevyn Aucoin adds unnecessarily.
Horatio frets over the cases Chin cited as being really out of date, but points out that he got them a jury trial. Battorney Montero wonders how a jury is going to feel about an embryo's being treated like property. They debate whether a cluster of cells is considered an embryo. "It's certainly a potential person," Battorney Montero concludes. "Not necessarily," says Ira, explaining that the treatment Axel needs could be done without bringing the cloned cells to full term. The lawyers ask for elaboration. Ira says he's not looking for a larger family -- just a liver for his son: "If there were a problem, we could manipulate the embryo to pinch off all development except for the liver and supporting circulatory systems," he explains. "'Pinch off'?" Battorney Montero repeats. "Pinch off what?" Hannah wonders. "Well, the head," Ira admits. Good to know Kids in the Hall humor is alive and well in the future. As Horatio looks a bit ill, Ira thinks that pinching off the head would mean they couldn't define the cells as a person and they would win, right? Hector snarks that the jury is going to love that.
Horatio researches at the Lucite wall. Lee May comes in. They exchange strained pleasantries. Finally, Horatio steps forward and says, "Look, since you've started we haven't had a chance to talk about...." "Last summer," Lee May finishes for him. Oh, dear, is Lukas Gold not as pure of heart in his private life as he is in his professional? Lee May wonders if that's why he's been avoiding her. Horatio denies that he has. Lee May explains that she's not a summer associate at another law firm; she's a permanent associate in this one: "You're my colleague. You're married. It was just a flirtation." Horatio just thought they should talk about it. So, maybe it's that he's SO pure of heart that he gets his breeches in a twist over a mild flirtation? Lee May doesn't think there's anything to talk about, and then she manages to drop her papers. Oldest trick in the book. As though it were a duchess's fan, Horatio gallantly bends down to help her retrieve them and they exchange a face-to-face moment. I glean from that sheaf of anvils that we're supposed to believe there's continued unrequited sexual tension there. Funny how I choose not to see it.
day. The three remaining Old Men on the Block serenade Darwin and Lee May. They seem to be singing the song T.J. mentioned. Haven't they written any new material in all these years? I'm assuming it's been "all these years," since this is the first time they've run into legal difficulties from T.J. when they tried to do something as a band. "Catchy," Darwin comments. "Retchy," I comment. "Fourteen million downloads," Kevyn Aucoin informs them. "Things were going strong until June zero-nine --" "When T.J. went on a six-month hiatus to try to be an actor," another Old Man on the Block adds. Darwin's not really listening; he's more interested in knowing where they drink their Fountain of Youth Cosmopolitans. "Well, plastic surgery," Kevyn says, gesturing, "Lift, nip, implant, tuck, tighten, hair." Lee May tries to get back to the case, but Darwin doesn't think any plastic surgeon is that good. "We also took telomerase activators. It's [sic] enzymes that rejuvenates [sic] our chromosomes," Kevyn explains. Lee May keeps talking, but since no one listens to her, I don't either. Fascinated, Darwin gets Altoids-close to Kevyn and asks, "Is it injected?" "It's kind of experimental," Kevyn admits. "Yes, it's also associated with cancer," Lee May says, finally joining the topic at hand. Yeah, but isn't everything these days? It's the cancer vibe that T.J. gives as one of the reasons for refusing to take it. "That, and it's unnatural and basically degrading to human dignity," Lee May goes on. So, tell me, Avery: isn't being genetically engineered into bleached-blonde perfection unnatural and degrading to human dignity? ["Maybe her point is that it's degrading to be forced to do it against one's will, as the Old Men are asking T.J. to do." -- Wing Chun] Darwin continues to scrutinize the Old Men on the Block at uncomfortably close range. Kevyn grins widely at Lee May's invective and says, "Tell that to Mick Jagger. I saw him in Boston last year, he looks great!" Well, Mick could probably be considered unnatural even without the telomerase in-babble-rators. "What age did you have to start?" Darwin asks.
Horatio advises Ira as to how to act on the stand as he and Battorney Montero walk with their client under a monorail track. Monorail! Monorail! "You call the clone 'cells,' you don't call it an embryo. And if the other side asks about your plans for the cells --" "We'll object," Battorney adds. "Actually, we won't," Horatio corrects him. "If we're overruled, it would only alert the jury that something damaging was being said. If they get into that area, we play it as a minor detail. Hypothetical lawyer stuff." Someone commented that Ioan's makeup was too heavy and obvious in this scene. I can't really say that I see it; however, I do have grave concerns about his hair. It looks bouffed in some shots and stringy-greasy in others. Horatio advises Ira to say as little as possible. That's not very helpful at all, honey.
Ira states his details as he sits on the stand. He's an industrial engineer, his wife died in a plane crash, and he has one seven-year-old son. Horatio clarifies that Ira knows he broke the law when he brought the clone into the U.S., and that Ira intends to plead guilty and do his time. Ira's also never broken a law in his life. He's under oath here, right? I mean, given what we learn a few minutes later about his son's birth, I think he might have perjured himself. Horatio asks why Ira chose to break this law, and Chin stands up with his objection. I'll give you an objection: what's up with that weird hairstyle, Counselor? You look like Big Boy. The judge, who looks like Diana Vreeland, allows Horatio to continue. Ira explains about his son's condition and the liver transplant and more about what we already know. I still don't get how the clone avoids having a defective liver. ["I still don't get why they wouldn't just keep Axel and the clone both in Singapore until the procedure's already done." -- Wing Chun] Chin gets up to cross-examine Ira, and wonders if he considers his son property, since he's equating him with the clone he's trying to retrieve as his property. Ira slips up and says, "If it's born, it donates part of its liver. If it isn't born --" Chin pounces. "If it isn't born?" he repeats, and then demands to know whether Ira has plans for the embryo that involves its not being born. Horatio and Battorney quail visibly. They didn't prepare their client very well, did they? It's pulled out of Ira that, if necessary, he will sacrifice the embryo to harvest the liver. "Snuff out a potential life," Chin postures. Horatio jumps up, objecting. Sustained. "How dare you," Ira chokes out to Chin. "How dare I?" Chin dramaqueens, "You're the one growing a human embryo like a crop!" Even though Chin has no further questions, Ira decides to blather on: "For god's sake, abortion is legal in this country. A healthy fetus can be terminated because its mother doesn’t want to miss a Caribbean cruise or go up a dress size and you're telling me that I can't do what I want with a few tiny cells to save the life of my dying child? How dare you." Reaction shot from the jury. They look rather bored. Reaction shot from Chin. Seriously, what is up with that hair?! Horatio allows himself a small smile.
Outside, Ira apologizes for his outburst, but Horatio told him he did great. Two elderlies approach with Axel and Ira introduces them as his parents. Ira takes Axel off to get ice cream, and Horatio has a nice little chat with the grandparents who have been taking care of Axel. So, has Ira been imprisoned for his crime, and that's why the grandparents are needed? I'd kind of like to see what the jail cells look like in the future. Or maybe they're just looking after the little brat when Ira's in court. The grandparents don't like the idea of making Axel stay in the courtroom, even though Horatio assures them that the jury needs to see him. It comes up that Axel never had a mother, and Horatio is confused: "Wasn't your son's wife around at the beginning?" Grandma says that Ira's wife died ten years ago. "Axel is seven," Horatio points out just as if it hadn't already been pointed out twice in the last five minutes. "They had a frozen embryo or something unnatural," Grandpa grumbles. Horatio looks over to where Axel and Ira are having ice cream. At precisely the same moment, both Axel and Ira look over at him, grinning. It's kind of creepy, actually. Father and son look back at each other. Horatio ponders. Damn, he's just so hot.
Back at the law office, Axel sits in the lobby again. Passing by with a file, Lee May gazes at the kid. Ira goes into Horatio's office and, after some back and forth, Ira admits that his son is a clone of himself. Horatio's quite angry at being kept in the dark, since both he and firm went out on a limb for this clone-happy dude. See? He totally perjured himself when he said he had never committed a crime before. As we've been told over and over, cloning is illegal in the U.S. Ira's wife died before they could explore fertility options, and so he cloned himself up a baby. He must have a permanent residence in Singapore. Given that the father has Hepatitis-D, does that mean he gave his son the current liver complaint?
Hannah waylays Lee May and asks her to do some work on Horatio's case. Lee May declines. "Law school ended in June, here there are no electives," Hannah tells her pleasantly. "No," says Lee May. Hannah asks her to have a seat, opaques out her windows, and explains that since they are a young firm, every lawyer has to be a jack-of-all-trades, and that they hired Lee May because they thought she'd "hit the ground running." Man, I am so sick of that expression. Every book project I take on has a managing editor saying the exact same thing to me. "I just don't get why I should work on this case -- it's a pro bono case about a boy who's been cloned," whines Lee May. "Too close to home?" Hannah asks, raising an exposition eyebrow. Lee May asks if Hannah knows about her. "I know you're a talented young attorney," says Hannah. "I mean, that I'm part of the Genetic Prototype Project," Lee May clarifies. Hannah pulls up a file and says she got an evaluation form that's part of a study. Lee May finishes for her: "To see how genetically enhanced humans function in society; to see if the laws in that area should be relaxed." We already know how they function in society -- they conquer society. Thank god this is all out in the open. Now I can stop calling her "Lee May" -- or "May Lee" as my fingers keep wanting to type -- and call her what I've been dying to for the last thirty minutes: Khanita. Or maybe Khansuela, Khannie, or Khanstance. Khanita goes on: "You should know I have all of the genes to make an excellent attorney: emotional control, logic, intelligence...." So, she's a Vulcan? Hannah tells her they aren't hard-wired for everything. "Oh? Did you know cheerfulness is related to a gene?" Khanita informs her, "Fear of heights, tendency to homesickness -- I wake up in the morning and I'm happy and I wonder, 'Am I happy because I'm happy? Or am I happy because some lab geek tweaked my R-49 gene allele when I was in a Petri dish?'" "Lab geek"? Too bad the classic snobbishness from the pretty people wasn't been tweaked out of the bitch's system. Hannah tells her just to be happy to be happy.
Mentoring elsewhere, Hector advises Horatio on his case. Horatio doesn't know if he should "omit" the information about Axel's being a clone or not. Finally, he decides to put it on the table and say it's inadmissible. "And you're damn right it's inadmissible -- of course it is!" he argues with himself. Hector smiles, happy to be that old man on the top of the mountain that everyone crawls up to.
Darwin grabs a bottle of water and smiles smugly to himself. He had a Fountain of Youth Cosmopolitan, didn't he? I really don't know why -- he's not that attractive, so why prolong the ugly? "Tea?" Darwin asks Khanita. "Hibiscus. It's relaxing," she says. See, she totally IS a Vulcan! Darwin comes up with some bizarre parallel to Khanita's having tea that he thinks justifies his drinking Fountain of Youth Cosmos. He mentions something about "slapping on a happy patch and feeling fine all the time," and again I'm wondering how sarcastic he's being, or if those things really exist. Although, it's not like it's that groundbreaking. I mean, we have the nicotine patch and more recently, the birth-control patch. In fact, they're just starting to do human testing with microchips that time-release medications. The microchip can release one or several different prescriptions into the body, and when it's empty, it gets absorbed by the body. So actually, patches aren't really that cutting-edge any more. Once Khanita realizes what Darwin did, she says, "It's illegal!" Darwin thinks that's debatable. "It's dangerous!" Khanita insists. Darwin protests, "Oh, please -- Ricky's been taking it for twenty years, okay? And I was out with him last night at a club in Thousand Oaks --" Khanita interrupts to chastise him for going out boozin' and cruisin' with their clients. "We discussed the case," Darwin says. "You went cruising for chicks with our client and billed him for it?" "Women find him very attractive," Darwin says, nodding his head slowly. I was inclined to think that Kevyn (a.k.a. Ricky) didn't much care for the womenfolk. "Are you having trouble finding dates?" Khanita wonders. Darwin Chah-Nos that, and points out all his attributes. I don't see any single one of them, especially with that black mock turtleneck under the sport coat. Yech. Khanita tells him he's way too young to worry about aging. "In three years I'm forty," Darwin explains. "When my father was fifty, he looked like a rhino's butt, okay?" Well, you're just an early bloomer then, aren't you? Then Darwin waxes wet about Kevyn in action last night: "And he doesn't even use sex stem. He does stuff the old fashioned way." That's pretty intimate knowledge for a lawyer to have about their client. Khanita thinks it's pathetic that Kevyn isn't aging. "Oh, come on, women always say that about a man who tries to improve his appearance," Darwin smarms. "And they say it [drops voice to a whisper] about an hour before they get naked." A whole hour? Whatever, Snatchmo, you're gross. Instead of kneeing him right in his telomerase inhibitors, Khanita rolls her eyes and walks off. Darwin grins and oddly chews his tongue as he watches her go.
Courtroom. Well, I'm not going to lie. There's arguing. Horatio and Chin argue whether the cloned Axel is relevant to the case. Judge Vreeland is inclined to agree with Horatio, since "the prejudice engendered by this disclosure would surely outweigh any relevance to the issue at hand: whether [Ira], as Axel's parent, can do what he wishes with the seized clone." Horatio smiles at his shoes. I'm jealous of those shoes. Chin drops a bomb: "Well, his parent might, Your Honor, but his brother cannot." Everyone asks, "What brother?" and Chin brings up what everyone was blinded to, and it's that Ira's kid is not his son, but his brother. More arguing over whether the jury now needs to be told. Chin thinks that if anyone has any right to decide what to do with the cells, it's the grandparents. That is, the parents, since they are the parents both of Ira and of Axel. Damn, where's that beer? Judge Vreeland agrees with Chin. Chin smirks. Judge Vreeland asks Ira if his parents concur in this lawsuit. Ira looks lost. Horatio darts over to him. "You can't let this happen; my parents wouldn't understand," Ira whispers. Horatio asks for a continuance. Judge Vreeland grants him twenty-four hours and says that the grandparents must join the case as plaintiffs, or the case will be dismissed.
Back at the Office, Battorney Montero explains to the rest of us that if the case is dismissed, it's like it never happened. Hannah, Battorney Montero, and Hector argue over whether to pull out of the case. Battorney Montero knows that the jury won't feel sympathy for the clone because public opinion is dead set against cloning. Hannah doesn't want her firm to go down in flames for Ira. Hector thinks that if they ditch out, "A child dies and it's Lukas's fault. This young lawyer might never recover." "I know politics," says Battorney Montero. "I know recovery," Hector trumps him. They look to Hannah, who sighs that her life hasn't been made any easier by starting her own firm. You know, some of these people just don't seem bright enough to be lawyers.
Horatio talks to Ira's parents and tells them that all they have to do is to sign on the dotted line. The Dad of Clone is really pissed that Ira lied to them, and Horatio tries to make him realize how important it is to save Axel. Dad of Clone argues, "By saying that it's okay to kill his clone, who, if I'm following this correctly, is also our son? We have triplets, Melanie." Hee, no flies on him. Melanie says that they can't just let their grandchild die. "We're not supposed to let anyone die," Dad of Clone says, and gets up, adding that he can't "do this." Horatio appeals to Mom of Clone to sign the stinking paper already. Dad of Clone prompts Mom of Clone to join him in the infuriated leaving. She does. Horatio goes to the door and watches them leave. Hector sees them leave and looks at Horatio. Horatio puts his hands in his pockets. Lucky pockets.
It's late at night and Horatio is rubbing his temples. Lucky temples. I'm never going to stop with that, you know, so you might as well get used to it. Khanita enters with some research that might help him. She seems to be holding a transparency: "They ruled that a prisoner could mail his sperm to his wife for artificial insemination. It implies a right to procreate by non-traditional means," Khanita explains. Does it? It sounds messy to me. She thinks it would give him an appeal issue if he needed it. Horatio's all ready to give up. Khanita raises her genetically perfect eyebrows and walks out. Horatio jumps up to explain his reason for becoming a lawyer. From anyone else, I'd be bored with this sort of navel gazing, but Ioan can do anything. Just as long as I have a drool cup. Make that a bowl. "I was an 'A' student with no other particular talent -- that's why people go to law school," he says. Uh. Hm. Dad? Puzer? How do you feel about having no particular talent? Khanita went to law school because she wanted to have a voice in the way things are run. A genetically perfected voice, mind you. "Exactly, 'the way things run' -- what society looks like, whether this little boy lives or dies -- it's all decided by a bunch of people who were good at taking tests and not much else!" Horatio fumes. Khanita says she's sorry about what happened to his case but that's no reason to.... "A boy lives or dies, that's real life, Lee May, just not yours," Horatio smolders. Khanita walks out on her genetically perfect legs. Horatio feels bad, and half-heartedly tries to call her back.
Axel plays in a park as the monorail zips by. Hector approaches the Mom and Dad of Clone and introduces himself. They go to talk and, of course, he will convince him to join the case because he's the same man who admired a borrowed necklace and told Richard Gere that it's hard letting something so beautiful get away.
Office. T.J. wonders what his settlement offer is. Khanita and Darwin tell him he gets to join the band on tour and on the live album, provided he gets some minor nips and tucks. T.J. is affronted: "That's not an offer, that's an insult." Darwin tells him it's a gift, since the tour will make everyone money. T.J. argues that he's in good physical shape and he doesn't look that bad, either. Darwin, speaking from his black heart, thinks that most people would be happy to extend their life by a few years. "I got a forty-year-old son. If I'm going to look thirty forever, he better stay twenty or things are going to look pretty confusing at our family reunions," T.J. blusters. Aren't they going to look confusing anyway? I mean, if he drops forty years, won't more people aside from his son look odd by comparison? One of the leather-clad 98 Years walks in to announce that Kevyn is dead. Everyone looks a bit confused but not that upset. "The telomerase? Cancer?" Khanita asks. "A stroke -- the man was seventy-two," 98 Years says. "And he looked so good," Darwin muses. The anvil, how she hurts.
In the law firm's Ten Forward, Horatio tells Hannah that it's not over. "Really? Because we were ready to clone Chin and give him your job," Hannah snarks. Oh, the office humor, how Dilbert. Horatio explains that he'll give Mom and Dad of Clone until noon, and then he'll file a petition to be named Axel's legal guardian: "I can represent Axel's interests if I can show that there's no one else there to protect him." Hector comes over and announces that Mom and Dad of Clone are "in." In the convincing, Hector told them about his great-grandmother Sadie, who lived to one-hundred-four years old and thought the mop was the greatest invention of her lifetime because, pre-mop, women got down on their hands and knees and scrubbed the floors. Hector goes on: "I told them not to be confused by cloning, embryos, bio-tech schmio-tech -- what matters is simple, is real." Which is their love for their grandson. "You mean their son," Horatio corrects. "I mean that it doesn't make a rat's ass of difference -- you love the kid, you do what you have to do," Hector finishes. Horatio exhales and nods. Is this going to be a regular "thing" on this show? Hector going around fixing everything off-screen with quaint stories from his childhood ending with a rat's ass?
Courtroom. The gist of Chin's closing argument is that if they allow Ira to use the cell cluster to save his kid's life, it won't stop there. The precedent will be set for lots of clones to be created specifically to have their organs harvested. Chin ends sarcastically: "They're just slabs of tissue, waiting to be used to save us, the living. What's the harm? They're not human, they're just...what? [eying Axel] Property." ["I'm convinced." -- Wing Chun] Axel darts out of the courtroom. Oh, please can someone find the kid in contempt? Lots of gasps and murmuring. Khanita tells the father-brother to stay while she goes after Axel. The jury eyes Chin.
Outside, Khanita sits to Axel. Wait, is she going to sing to him of silver swans? Of kingdoms and of carillons. Will she sing to him of bodies intertwined underneath an innocent sky? Probably not if she fears John Lithgow smacking her knuckles with a bible. Man, that was when Chris Penn was a slim awkward kid named Willard, Kevin Bacon had Clay Aiken hair, Sarah Jessica Parker was a natural brunette, and the VW Bug represented rebellion in a danceless small town rather than retro-chic in Silicon Valley. That was also the time when "Almost Paradise" (not the music box version) turned me into the most pathetic jar of maudlin jelly (seedless) that you've ever seen. And after that emaciated dance with smaller breasts than a pre-pregged Debra Messing in a over-the-county-line bar, Lori Singer just dropped like a bulimic stone out of sight, didn't she? Oh, wait, I'm recapping something.
Khanita tells Axel her story. She's different, just like him. "You're a clone?" Axel asks. So the kid now knows he's a clone? Did he know before? That's sort of more upsetting than finding out you were adopted. Khanita says she's not exactly a clone, and explains, "When I was born, there were certain diseases and poisons that bothered people. So they did something to my genes -- those are the little things inside your body that tell it how to grow -- so that the diseases and poisons didn't bother me. And they tried to make me smart and strong and stuff like that." And they made you blonde, blue-eyed, beautiful and Aryan Nation stuff like that. Axel wants to know "how strong?" I want to know "how smart." I mean, if you're taking the SAT and competing with genetically engineered prospective students, isn't that a bit unfair? Maybe there's a circle to fill in to your Social Security Number: "Are you genetically perfect? If yes, make sure you are taking Test Booklet Schedule 666." Khanita laughs at his silly question: "Pretty strong, for a girl." Shut up, Avery -- go back to your frozen dinners. Axel wonders if people make fun of her, but Khanita says she doesn't tell anyone her little secret. Except when she has to pull the heartstrings of a case. Axel whines that he doesn't want to be different, which prompts Khanita to file the anvil: "We're not different [say it with me now]: we're special." Yeah, but she's buried-alive-on-a-dead-planet special, whereas the kid's sliced-up-on-a-pizza special. The kid hurls himself into Khanita's arms.
Which is supposedly where Horatio would like to be, but he's delivering his closing argument. He flicks out a knife and orders the jury to kill the kid. A few members jump. "Just take this knife and kill him," Horatio says, and then adds that that's exactly what they will be doing if they deny him access to the cell cluster. "But that would be messy, painful, so do him a favor, do it quick." How is stabbing someone considered not messy and painful? Seriously, these lawyers? Not much with the smarts. He offers the knife to a woman on the jury who has the exact expression on her face I get when I go to a play and one of the actors starts projecting his lines directly at me: surprised, bemused, and really wanting to crawl under my seat. Also, what if one of the jurors decided to snatch the knife and start stabbing people? I've never served, but somehow I don't think "Would you stab your fellow jurors with a switchblade" is one of the questions they screen you with. "And after you've done that, find those cells in the government warehouse and kill them too." Now, they'll be right to the Ark of the Covenant, right? "Because that's what the government's going to do if it wins here today: uphold the sanctity of human life by killing every living thing associated with this case." Is the government going to kill Ira and the Parents of Clone as well? I mean, he did say "every living thing." Khanita comes back in, leading Axel by the hand. I'm glad he didn't hear Horatio say that the government's going to kill him, because that kind of talk could make a clone paranoid. Horatio speechifies some more, even going so far as to scrape off microscopic bits of his skin and ask who owns them. Then he rubs off the knife and flicks the cells to the floor and scuffs at them with his shoe, saying that he destroyed them, and is the government going to come and prosecute him for murder? Okay, as much as I Moan for Ioan, I do have friends coming in this weekend, so I'm gonna cut to the chase: he finishes his closing.
Outside, Battorney Montero tells Chin that the jury loved Horatio and that he saw Chin see the jury love Horatio. Hey, I love Horatio: does that count? Chin admits, "Yeah, he was...theatrical." Battorney Montero advises Chin to cut a deal. Chin scoffs that Battorney is new to the law. Battorney Montero: "Well, I may be new with the law, Mr. Chin, but I did real well for a while in politics because I can read people. I know what they like. And they liked him. And they didn't like you." Chin says he's not running for Congress. "Lose a case that blows gaping holes in fifteen years of federal policy on cloning -- what are you running for? Ex-U.S. Attorney?" Battorney Montero asks. Chin wants to know who said he's going to lose. "If you win, the kid dies. This case hasn't been in the news much...yet. If you win, you lose. If you lose, you lose. Cut a deal." Battorney Montero leaves Chin to think about what color silk he wants for the reception tables.You know, this episode has had a lot of people fighting Horatio's battles for him.
Funeral. Lots of pink-lit, poster-sized pictures of Kevyn and the band surround a casket. The minister eulogizes as Khanita sneaks into a pew to Darwin, behind the two remaining Backstreet Fogies. After she asks why they're there, Darwin tells Khanita that he's still trying to find a way to save the tour: "We could be their legal representation -- look at this crowd." Darwin taps one of the Backstreet Fogies: "Hey, Jake." "I'm Vincent," Vincent says. "Hey, Vincent, can't you and Jake revive the band?" Vincent asks how, since Kevyn and T.J. were the stars. The minister summons Jake and Vincent. The two Backstreet Fogies go up and announce that they can't do the reunion tour anymore, but that they're going to honor Kevyn the best way they know how. Darwin pssts T.J. to go up and join them. T.J. waves him off bashfully. Bad music plays, and the Backstreet Fogies dance. And prance. And sing. It's just so very bad. Of course, the audience doesn't think so, as they get into the grove. Darwin continues to bug T.J. Even the minister is jiving. It's really, really weird. Finally, after Vincent (or Jake) points at him, T.J. dances his old-man way up the aisle and starts singing. Badly. On stage, T.J. pauses briefly and whirls around as they all rock their bent arms out and sing. "I love yooooou!" Did they all become eunuchs to keep their voices that high? It must have been in the fine print. The members of the congregation get to their feet. Most of them are middle-aged women who haven't taken telomerase suppressors. As the Backstreet Fogies dance down, T.J. breakdances briefly and jumps up to do the two-finger (à la Pulp Fiction) point at the audience. Khanita is amazed. "I think we have a winner," Darwin smugs. Although captions say, "I think we have a reunion."
Office. Chin names his terms: "You don't go public, no press conference." Fine. "You don't claim credit, you don't make it a precedent." Done. "You get the cells back, the boy, the grandparents." "You mean the parents?" Horatio digs. "The old couple, they all go away today. Singapore, wherever, what they do when they get there they keep to themselves." "No," says Horatio. He wants the father to go free as well. What? Ira himself said he was going to plead guilty, pay the fine, and do the time -- he broke a law. Which is what Chin points out: "He's under criminal indictment." "So drop it," Horatio insists. Whip out your sword and duel him and maybe he will. Come on, you know you want to! Chin says he can't drop it. "He goes too, or we go back in this courtroom and take our chances with the jury," Horatio stipulates. "That kid needs a father." Or a brother. Chin sighs.
Hannah works late so that she can dispense wise old adages. Horatio knocks on her door because she summoned him. "Some lawyers don't know why they do it, some know exactly why, the rest of us figure it out day by day. I hope you figured out today that if you stick with it, in fifty years or so you might make a halfway decent attorney," Hannah says, all without turning around. "And that's all?" Horatio asks. Hannah finally turns to look at him and says, "You were expecting a hug?" "You know, this whole dispensing of wise old adages without turning around to look at the person only happens on television -- who doesn't have their desk facing the door?" the Evil Dr. Mathra blusters.
Saturday: An athlete has a bionic eye and is booted from the majors. Can Horatio save this multi-billionaire's humble dream?