This show stinks like a pair of armored trousers after the Hundred Years' War, and you know, I actually feel physical pain when I think of having to recap another episode after turning one in a mere two days ago. The pain sort of starts in my legs as a dull throb when I walk to the VCR to shove the tape in. By the time it slithers up to my stomach it's a sharp, sick-making sensation that makes it really hard to keep anything down. But I'll try -- for you, I'll try.
Hector walks in with two worried-looking parents and Zachary Ty Bryan, who has dropped the "Ty" since his "Tool Time" years. Hector exposits that Horatio is over "at the draft tying up some loose ends." The parents freak that there are any "loose ends" to "tie up" since "it's starting now." ZTB tells Pops to chill, since Los Angeles already gave him a promise ring.
Draft. Horatio Jerry Maguires all over the place, trying to get some team, ANY TEAM, to take his client. The reason why ZTB is an untouchable in the majors is his bionic eye -- it violates league rules. Horatio argues that the eye doesn't make him stronger or faster, but GMs argue that it makes the kid bionic and they don't like that. Horatio's dressed a little better tonight, in a dark suit, mauve shirt, and darker mauve tie. I'm convinced he shops at Pink. We hear ESPN announcers -- or, more specifically, LASN announcers -- talking up the draft as we go inside some nerve-endings with doohickeys clamped on them, travel through a camera-like aperture, and come out ZTB's bionic blue eye. It's a real nail-biter as ZTB/Bionic Boy and his family sit around the set with Hector and watch team after team pass him and his eye by. Behind the scenes, Horatio keeps trying to guilt people into taking the bionic baseball player, saying if he wins the case for Bionic Boy, they'll have passed up a major league find. If he takes a Mission Statement to Kinko's at three in the morning, I'm going to throw up all over my iBook. The very last team to pick, an expansion team called the San Fernando Valley Coyotes, picks ZTB. Everyone's thrilled. At draft headquarters, some guy with his jacket slung over his shoulder passes by Horatio and says, "Kid, you did it." Wait, but where's the bottle of Coke and the dirty jersey? "Yeah, all I gotta do now is sue baseball," Horatio sighs. And the New York accent is back. I like Ioan; I think he's a great actor and I've got a bigger crush on him than I've had on any actor ever, but this St. Marcellin, Patron Saint of Cheese role is making his character exceptionally annoying for a lot of people.
In front of a wall-sized Chicano Visions painting, the firms meets and the bionic eye is explained. When he was eighteen, Bionic Boy was on his dad's farm (of course. I mean, it's gotta be a farm, right? Because it wouldn't be an Inspirational Sodden Sports Story if the kid lost his eye taking the garbage down to his city curb) stringing electric fence when it snapped and took out one of his eyes. Hannah reads aloud how the eye works and comments that he could have been brain-damaged. Horatio explains why both eyes are needed in baseball for depth perception: "He risked his life for this chance." I guess that comment refers to the fact that the bionic eye surgery was the thing that could have given him brain damage, not the accident itself. Since Darwin the Dick can always be trusted to say something mean, he contributes, "What an idiot," and then exposits that the MLB can set whatever eligibility rules it wants. Horatio wonders if his replaced gall bladder should prevent him from playing baseball. "Well, that and you throw like a girl," Darwin the Dick agrees. Khanita automatically whips an apple at D the D's head. Darwin the Dick ducks, and the apple crashes behind him. "Like that?" Horatio asks. He said you throw like a girl, not like a genetically-enhanced girl.
More argument about what the MLB is allowed to do and not do. Darwin the Dick sarcastically suggest they get a constitutional amendment protecting bionic rights pushed through Congress: "The only stumbling block might be getting thirty-nine states to ratify it, though." So, we have fifty-one or fifty-two states in the future? We must have split Canada in half. Sorry, Wing. "I'm holding out for the fact that Fairfax County finally seceded from the rest of Virginia," the Evil Dr. Mathra From Fairfax County interjects. "It took sixty years to pass the Equal Rights Amendment," Darwin the Dick continues. "The good news is people like robots more than they like women." In a long, overblown, and lawyer-ish way, Horatio argues that his client doesn't have any enhancement beyond a normal human being. His bionic eye is just that, an eye. It doesn't give him any special advantages. Hector thinks it better to argue that the kid isn't bionic, he's disabled and therefore protected by the American Disabilities Act.
case. Darwin the Dick and Khanita listen to a married couple argue about the fact that having the husband's parents, grandfather, and great-grandmother live with them is in breach of the "no family" clause in their prenuptial agreement. Khanita points out that the marriage contract assumed children, and the wife argues that having the parents and grandparents are just like having grandchildren: "How tough would it have been to get them out to save our marriage?" "They had no savings left, Donna, when they grew up, they didn't expect to live to a hundred and twelve," the husband argues. Seriously, bitch, what's he supposed to do? Kick the family that raised him to the curb just like the city trash that would lose Bionic Boy his eye in an Uninspirational Sodden Sports Story? The wife advocates putting the Elderlies in institutions or "something better." "They're my family!" the husband shouts, right after Darwin the Dick was trying to say that the Elderlies weren't family, and therefore his client wasn't in breach of contract. An assistant walks in. "Did I call you?" Darwin the Dick dicks. The assistant shakes his head, "No, sir." "And, do you like your job?" D the D demands. "No, sir," the assistant smiles. "And that's why I came back in. Your phone is ringing, and [he takes a box off his right ear and tosses it to D the D] I quit." He smiles happily and leaves. D the D looks tired.
Holographic pre-trial thingy for Bionic Boy. Legal spouting and quoting. Arguments. The MLB's motion to dismiss the case is denied; however, the judge thinks that the MLB is entitled to deny access to the disabled if they have a legitimate business reason. "I trust you have that, Mr. Atwell?" the judge asks the MLB's attorney. "Yes, Your Honor," the League's attorney smiles. The judge says he looks forward to hearing it, and orbs out. The League's Attorney grins at Horatio and orbs out. Captions say that Horatio shoots back, "Well, bully for you!" but he doesn't actually say it! Damn, I do like a good "bully" now and again. Hector congratulates Horatio on winning the right to lose a trial. Well, aren't you Mr. The Holographic Glass Is Holographically Half-Empty?
Khanita does more research on her feuding couple, and digs up some tape of Darwin the Dick with a HUGE mullet and HUGE sideburns drawing up the original marriage contract. He's all touchy-feely with them and even shares his own deep feelings about marriage. This is to show that he used to be A Nice Guy, But Then The Law Turned Him Bitter And Gave Him a Better Haircut. While Khanita is enjoying this little blast from the past, various members of the firm come in to gawk, laugh, and eat popcorn at Darwin the Dear's appearance and demeanor. Apparently, the whole thing took place a mere eight years ago. When Darwin the Dear realizes that his clients really don't want children at all, he's taken aback. "He's devastated!" Hannah crows. Battorney Manuel points at the screen and asks, "Can we get Scotty to blow this up because I think I see a tear." Ah, so because the Boy in Black's name is Scotty, and then the accent and the Star Trek thing...got it. Darwin the Dear Dick himself walks in, pauses the feature presentation, and is very sarcastic that everyone is helping Khanita with her research: "That's so nice."
Khanita follows Darwin the Dear Dick around and talks about their case and the marriage agreement. Darwin the Dear Dick tells her she's going to be on her own because he has to interview assistants: "I have to tell from a résumé who's hot." Khanita throws attitude about that, and Darwin the Dear Dick responds, "We interviewed you, didn't we?" Khanita rolls over on that one. Darwin the Dear Dick asks if she wants anything else; she does. She wants to probe into his past life as a nice guy: "What happened to you?" "Well, I'm the same guy deep inside. If only there was someone I could let myself be vulnerable to," Darwin the Dear Dick recites robotically. Heh. "Thanks for sharing," Khanita snits. Darwin the Dear Dick pauses and says, "I got tired."
The Bionic Boy bats baseballs. It's night. Horatio approaches and wonders if the Bionic Boy doesn't get enough of "this" at training camp. The Bionic Boy explains that he's not allowed into training camp because the Commission called the Coyotes and told them that his presence was in violation of League rules. Horatio apologizes. "But I hear we won in court today," the Bionic Boy says, and pauses the machine. He offers to let Horatio hit a few. Horatio declines. Because he can only play cricket. The Bionic Boy explains his dream of baseball: "One pitch, one inning. That's my dream." Horatio promises him they are going to deliver on that dream. It was all very inspirational. When I saw The Natural.
MONORAIL! Judge Bionic Baseball Case discusses the trial date. The League's attorney procrastinates, and Hector wonders if the League can squeeze them in before the playoffs. The League's attorney says they have a lot of witnesses and doctors to brief. "It's your rule, you initiated it twenty-two years ago, are you telling this court that you're not ready yet argue it's fair?" Hector wonders. At that, Judge Bionic Baseball Case decides that the trial will be Thursday. Horatio also asks that their client be allowed to practice with his team because if he wins the case, he's going to be a season behind everyone else and that will hurt his career. It's granted. The Bionic Baseball Family stands up and hugs each other. "He only wants to play one inning, huh?" Hector asks. Horatio hopes exhibition games count.
Khanita makes her case for her husband-client being divorced without relevant grounds. The family judge calls her "very young and very pretty" and tells her they don't have to be so formal in family court. Family Judge is a woman, and I still don't get why the pretty part is relevant. Even Family Judge admits that it's not relevant, so I can only assume she was coming onto her. If it had been a male judge, it would have been extremely offensive and inappropriate. It's still fairly inappropriate and quite condescending. The two lawyers argue with each other, at Family Judge's request. Khanita doesn't believe that not taking care of one's ancestors was implied in the "no family" clause, and Wife Client's lawyer believes that the marriage contract was made to ensure a life alone together. Khanita argues that since both husband and wife already had parents, they were "in breach since birth." And even were breech births. Not really -- that would be weird, though. Khanita has a good point. I wonder where Wife Client's parents are during all this. Dead? One can only hope, otherwise they are getting a de-pressing view of their future. Family Judge cuts through the crap and determines that they will have an "evidentiary hearing" to determine what family means to her judgely eyes. All Family Judge cares about finding out is "who's reasonable and who's wrong."
Bionic Baseball Case. Horatio questions a British doctor, who explains what the point of the bionic eye is. It must be hard for him not to fall into his own accent when conversing with another UK-er. The doctor talks about how she tried to counsel Bionic Boy out of his eye, but it didn't work. Maybe she's actually Australian? Doctor Undetermined Accent testifies that even though they could have given him an eye that would have allowed him to "see craters on the moon," he insisted on the parameters being set for completely normal vision. If one eye could see the craters on the moon, wouldn't that make life -- any life, I'm not just talking about professional baseball life -- really difficult? It would be hard to cross the street with one eye on oncoming traffic and the other eye watching a fish being gutted in Japan. After Judge Baseball Case tells Horatio to stop treating him like an idiot, the League's attorney has no questions. You know it's gotta be so hard for Horatio to say "Your Honor" rather than "Milord."
Another witness on the Bionic Baseball Case says he had Tommy John surgery eleven years ago when he was in high school, before he was a pitcher for the Havana Expos. Hector asks the Expos pitcher if he knows who Tommy John was. The pitcher assumes that it was the doctor who invented the procedure. What are the odds that a pro ball player wouldn't know the pertinent history of his game, particularly pertaining to his surgery. I mean, really! Because of this, Hector is forced to explain that Tommy John was a pitcher who had a forearm tendon removed and used to repair a damaged elbow tendon. Castro's pitcher says that his elbow wasn't injured in any way; his coach just said that he needed a better fastball. And it worked. And since they used "natural" tendons, it doesn't violate League rules. When the League's attorney fails to see the relevance, Hector points out that by 2003, fifty percent of pro pitchers had this surgery and now, In The Future, ninety-five percent of high school pitchers have it. Argument about "natural surgery" versus artificial devices. Hector questions banning glasses and contact lenses. Judge Bionic Baseball Case looks contemplative. Horatio smiles into his lap. Lucky lap. In oh so many ways.
Darwin the Dick is in the firm's weight room when Hannah and Battorney Manuel came to tell him that his six former assistants have banded together to sue the firm because Darwin the Dick "is an ass." "A recent Ninth Circuit ruling expanded the realm of employment discrimination and it implied that you have the right not to have an ass for an employer," Battorney Manuel improbably divulges. Ah, the Ninth Circuit and its wackiness continue even In The Future. Darwin the Dick laughs that they'll fight it. "On the basis that you're not an ass?" Battorney Manuel asks in disbelief. "No, on the basis that it's a stupid law," Darwin the Dick says, obviously acknowledging that he's a sueable ass. Hannah asks why he doesn't just stop being an ass, but Darwin the Dick doesn't think he should have to change and he still has the right to employ people. "Oh, you like being abusive, that's a good defense," Battorney Manuel sarcasms. Darwin the Dick chafes at the term "abuse," arguing, "I didn't punch anyone, I didn't slap anyone. I didn't sexually harass anyone [Ahem? Khanita? Oh, right, she's not suing him because she wasn't genetically modified to HAVE A SPINE!], I didn't assault anyone." Battorney Manuel agrees and says he just made them all miserable. "And they exercised their right to quit and get another job," Hannah adds. Battorney Manuel wonders if she means they should fight the suit. "Yes, but no. We need assistants, we need paralegals -- decent ones will be impossible to find if Darwin's personality [she looks him up and down while he looks pleased with himself] becomes a public matter," Hannah says, and adds that they're going to settle it. Battorney Manuel sticks a finger in Darwin's face and says he's going to pay for it.
Boring Bionic Baseball Case FROM HELL. Bionic Boy waxes unpoetic about the boring beauty of baseball and how he's now better than all those players who were better than him before the surgery. But get this, it's not the BIONIC EYE that makes him better -- he's better because he wants to be. Isn't that a kick in the crotch, though? He also didn't realize the boring beauty of baseball until after his accident, surgery, and recovery. So...he was so bored during rehab that baseball was much more interesting by comparison? Got it. The League's attorney accuses Bionic Boy of trying to destroy baseball with this suit. Objection. Somewhat sustained. The League's attorney asks that if they let Bionic Boy play, where will it stop? Well, apparently with Buck Bokai of the London Kings, right? The League's attorney cites some kid in Tennessee who has lab-grown tendons and muscles that let him run forty-five miles an hour and leap ten feet in the air. Bionic Boy starts to defend himself, but League's attorney asks what he will do if the same kid "gets his arms done" and wonders how Bionic Boy will be able to hit that kid's fastball. Why stop with arms? Maybe the kid will get bionic spit as well, and then, well, there's just no stopping him. See, this is argument is pointless, because Bionic Boy's eye doesn't make him any better than he was -- it makes him exactly the same as before he lost the eye. It's not shouldn't be compared to super-fast Jumping Frog of Calaveras County tendons and muscles that make the kid better than he would have been in his natural state. And we've got Horatio over here sitting there like he's all traumatized by this sudden line of questioning when he should be pointing out that the muscles and eye aren't even in the same...ballpark! ["I think they're trying to draw some sort of parallel to the steroid controversy. Clumsily, needless to say." -- Sars] League's lawyer wonders about the kid who intentionally pokes out his own eye so he can be just like Bionic Boy. You know what I say to that? Someone who pokes their own eye out is either too stupid or too batshit crazy to be allowed within five hundred miles of a stadium full of people. At the end of this line of questioning, everyone, even the music, thinks that the League attorney scored one for the MLB. I definitely agree, but only because the plaintiff was too stupid to object and put an end to it on the grounds that they, and the whole courtroom, were out of order.
Family Court is in session, and we get to watch a tape of the husband and wife getting it on one morning when they are interrupted by an elderly woman entering their room because she couldn't find her glasses. I guess In The Future, everyone has surveillance tapes in every room in their house? That's so Sliver. Darwin the Dick objects to the video because it might have been tampered with. He argues the tampering angle by pointing at Khanita and saying, "There is video of my colleague here having sex with several women at the same time, okay?" Khanita looks slightly perturbed, but I think it's just a phantom spine sensation. "And it was very easy to make," Darwin the Dick concludes. I can't BELIEVE this kind of SHIT is STILL GOING ON IN THE FUTURE AND NO ONE, NOT THE FEMALE JUDGE, NOT THE PEOPLE IN THE COURT, NOT THE COLLEAGUE IN QUESTION, AND NOT EVEN THE VIEWERS ARE SAYING A DAMN THING ABOUT IT! Jesus H. Caviezel! It's not even funny. In fact, it's so fucking insulting that it's presented in a comic way, right down to Khanita's lukewarm look of alarm. Oh, ha-ha, he's talking about making porn videos using the likeness of his colleague, and isn't it amusing that it's even easier to do In The Future? But because it's The Acknowledged Prick of the Show, we're not talking about it being a form of rape or even an invasion of privacy, even IN LIGHT OF LAST WEEK'S EPISODE! As long as the prickness is acknowledged, it's okay, right?
Judge Family tells Darwin the Dick that he's in so much in contempt of court for being so grossly inappropriate that she's going to disbar him. Well, I'm sure that's what she meant when she notes that like his recently and repeatedly objectified colleague, he's got the "same hang-up about the law." "Must've picked it up in law school," Darwin the Dick snarks. Judge Family sniffs and watches more of the video presentation, the clip showing the wife having to clean up a messy bed left by the weakened bladder of one of the Elderlies. Is that supposed to make me sympathetic to the Wife Client as the camera pans to show her pained and long-suffering face? Because it doesn't. It only makes me more sympathetic to the Elderlies, who not only have to live with the degradation of their bodies and minds betraying them as they continue to live past their expectations, but now they have to live with the idea that their own family is going to court over whether or not they deserve to be cared for and loved. The husband looks back at the Elderlies. Sheesh, they're also there having to watch themselves on screen peeing their beds? Could their dignity be taken away any more?
As Khanita and D the D walk down the hall with the Husband Client, Husband Client accuses Wife Client, "What's wrong with you. That's fine if you hate me, do you hate them too?" Wife Client complains that their life was over when the Elderlies missed the Cocoon train to Mars, and says that all they talked about was the care of the Elderlies and that the Elderlies were always there, always needing something. "Except for the ages, it was no different from having kids," Wife Client adds. "Well, you could've always told yourself that it will get better. When they die," Husband Client shoots back. Ha! Take that, unfeeling bitch!
Federal Courthouse with CGI flags. Hector, Horatio, and their Boring Bionic Baseball clients step through a cubicle of bulletproof glass that has holes punched in it. Some guy scans them with a light-saber. So, this they show us, but they don't explain Horatio's switchblade antics? As they walk in, Hector asks what's going on in there. "A demonstration," League's Attorney says, standing to some guy with a baseball cap and glove. "Judges hate cheap theatrics," Horatio pisses. "Oh, I'm sorry, did I say 'cheap theatrics'? I meant to say 'a demonstration,'" League's attorney says. Okay, I'm sure there's a "heh" in there, but I'm not exactly sure where or why. "Oh, I LOVE demonstrations!" Judge Baseball Case says inanely. "They make things so much easier to understand." He's a bit out there, isn't he? League's Attorney makes Horatio get in the batter's box -- which is exactly sixty-two feet from the trumped-up pitcher's mound, "the Big League's distance since 2024" -- and he's supposed to say "Swing" or "No swing." The pitcher heaves a ball that registers on the catcher's glove at one hundred six mph. The purpose of the demo is to say that every ball player has fifteen thousandths of a second to make the swing decision. All except for Bionic Boy, because, as his bionic eye is hard-wired to bypass his optic nerve and go straight to his neural cortex, he has twenty thousandths of a second to make his swing decision. Horatio argues that they're talking about the difference of "nothing and slightly more than nothing." That's exactly how I would describe this show. "It's a thirty-three percent difference. That's the difference of taking eight seconds to reach first base and six seconds. The first guy bats .300, the second guy bats .700 and sprints into the Hall of Fame," League's attorney scores. Judge Bionic Baseball Case raises his eyebrows at Hector and Horatio.
The suit that will decide whether or not Darwin is an ass. Actually, it's already accepted that he is, so I guess this is the case to decide how much his assiness is worth. Hannah offers each ex-assistant six weeks severance pay in full settlement. The assistants' attorney tells her they would prefer six months, not weeks. Hannah pleads for reasonableness. The assistants' attorney wrinkles her nose at Hannah: "This is six months of their salary, not yours, you'll hardly notice it." "Okay, okay, okay!" D the D claps his hands like Jack on Will and Grace when he's about to ask Karen to take him shopping. "This has been fun, yeah? Okay. Darlene, you feel abused, right? You wanna spit in my coffee, fine. You win," he tells an Asian woman. "Miles, you scream and you rant about everything but then you always turn around and decide it's all your fault, don't you? Okay, why don't you just take the money now before you change your mind?" D the D tells the rest of the assistants that they're going to pull the offer off the table and walk out, "and if you don't make smelly pants right now, you're going to wake up tonight, like, eight times screaming in cold sweats, terrified that you're gonna lose everything. So why don't we just sort of circumvent aaaaallll that pain. Take the six weeks." D the D leans back. An African-American woman tells the room that D the D made her put in six hours of overtime the night before her wedding. "You got paid for it -- time and a half," D the D reminds her. "Do you know what I was doing? Tracking down some girl who wouldn't return his calls," the Bride adds. This is the type of person Hannah saw fit to hire for her firm? "He called me fat," some skinny white chick adds. D the D defends himself by saying that he didn't call her fat, but rather that a client called her fat and that he felt it important to relay that information back to her. Hannah says they get the idea as D the D goes on in his explanation of why he passed the fat comment on. He's making hand gestures that imply largeness of person. I guess that's also supposed to be comedic. Making fun of someone's weight, who doesn't even look the least tiniest bit overweight, and making pornos of a colleague -- this show's got a singular sense of humor, particularly where women are concerned. "Okay, we get the idea!" Hannah repeats herself and finally stills D the D's mouth and hands. She offers eight weeks and says they need a non-disclosure from all of them. No dice. The assistants' attorney hands over a subpoena for all relevant records and internal firm recordings. "Which we know will include a bunch of times that you all called him an ass," Miles says, and smiles slightly. Hannah looks at D the D.
Khanita watches a surveillance tape of Husband Client's grandma making dinner, and tells Horatio that she's trying to prove that parents aren't as much as a burden as children are.
Battorney Manuel watches the two of them have their tête-à-tête from the hallway when Hector walks up and hands him something. They have a conversation in Spanish that is captioned. How cool would it have been if the conversation was in Esperanto because that was a new language In The Future? I guess it would undermine all Spanish-language persons, though. Maybe two other office people could be speaking it, and we would learn that Esperanto is actually the official language they speak in the new state of East Canada, now called Shatneria? Battorney Manuel wonders if Hector thinks "he" slept with "her," and jerks his head at the two pretty people on the yellow IKEA couch. Hector thinks he'd be an idiot not to. So, he'd be an idiot if he didn't cheat on his wife? I'm quickly hating EVERY-one on this show. That's not a good sign. Battorney Manuel points out that Horatio is married. "I was commenting on his intelligence, not his morality," Hector subtitles. Right -- because they're all lawyers, they blur that line a lot and can be forgiven for it? What? Battorney Manuel laughs at Hector's wise old wit. They look back at the IKEA sofa couple again, and Hector thinks Khanita is "almost perfect." Hector wonders if she's "had some work done." Battorney Manuel's sure she has. "You know for sure?" Hector wonders. "I know nothing," Battorney Manuel says. Hector tells him, "That's why you lost for governor, you can't lie for crap." Well, that and he's not a psychotic, murdering cyborg. "What other work?" Hector wonders. "Well, I'd say she's had everything done," Battorney Manuel says, and informs Hector that Khanita is part of the Genetic Prototype Project. Hector nods, "Cool." I'm so glad they made the genetically perfected individual a woman, because otherwise I'd really miss all these moments of female objectification by the male members of the firm.
Horatio wonders if anyone has talked to Husband and Wife Client about reconciliation. Khanita points out that's not their job. "No, I suppose not," Horatio says, shifting uncomfortably. "You don't believe in divorce?" Khanita asks. Wait, he just asked about reconciling these two particular people; how does that even hint anything about his beliefs about divorce? Horatio turns to Khanita and says that he believes in commitments. "So does our client," Khanita says, and turns herself so that her cleavage is more readily available to Horatio's eyes. "So would you stay with your wife even if you were miserable?" "I'm not miserable," Horatio says. Khanita smiles as if she's caught him protesting too much, and says it was a hypothetical question. Horatio looks down and says, "If we only stood by the people who made us blissfully happy, the word 'commitment' would be kinda meanin'less." What's with the sudden Southern accent, Trip? "So, that's what marriage is supposed to be -- a test?" Khanita asks. Where is she getting that?
Horatio says that everything is a test of who they are and what their character is about. This show is a test of how much CRAP one single person can stand in a short period of time. Horatio asks if she would "do the right thing" even if there were a price to be paid. Khanita asks about happiness. If all this is supposed to be Stupid Sexual Subtext, I don't buy it, because I have no reason not to be sympathetic towards Horatio's wife and marriage. Yes, as yet his wife is a faceless non-character we haven't even met, but that doesn't give Khanita any more right to him than me -- I mean, than her! "If you don't live up to what you believe in, you'll be miserable, right?" Horatio asks. They're both making this discussion entirely too simplistic. Khanita stares at him. Suddenly, Horatio says, "There's sex on your screen -- pause!" The monitor pauses with Husband Client and Wife Client going at it. Khanita makes the monitor play while Horatio chastely looks away and thinks of England. She backs the video up thirty seconds and listens intently. Horatio steals a look at her profile. Right, because her genetically perfect hearing made her catch something on the video when she was passive-aggressively propositioning The Golden Boy?
Khanita shows the video to Darwin the Dick, who says, staring at her dinners, "It would probably be a whole lot easier if you turned the video off and undid another button." Instead of kneeing him in the nuts and using her nonexistent spine to disembowel him via his esophagus, Khanita jabs a finger at the screen. "I love kissing," D the D muses. "It's the promise of what's to come, which really makes it so much better than what's to come, don't you think?" Oh, god, SHUT UP, DICK! "Not even close," Khanita says, and turns up the volume. What we hear is Husband Client saying that he forgot to take his pill and Wife Client telling him not to worry about it. Yeah, okay, so there's male birth control In The Future -- they're on the verge of that now, big whoop. Khanita's point is that at that moment, Wife Client was basically willing to have a baby and agreeing to the amendment of the contract, deleting the no-family clause. "So, with the no-family provision gone, she can't claim our client is in breach for bringing home?" D the D explains to us. Khanita nods. "Not bad," D the D says, and continues the playback while Khanita looks away "uncomfortably." She could just leave if D the D wants to get off on the video. I guess it's hard to leave the room quickly when you don't have a spine.
Ballpark, day. Hector and Horatio sit in the stands and watch their client, discussing whether they should get him to put on a show for the press. They argue about the fifteen thousandths of a second thing. Bionic Boy practices with his team and the other players are mean to him. As Bionic Boy writhes on the ground after someone slid into him, another player comments, "Nice slide -- way to take the freak out." Horatio shouts, "Hey, come on!" Like that's not going to get the kid more beat up? The fact that his lawyer is tut-tutting them? Bionic Boy grabs at his bloodied arm. "Why don't you just get a new arm?" the sliding player asks. Bionic Boy smacks a fist into the dirt. Someone else is heard to say, "Pretty tough when both teams are against you." I don't know who it was that supposedly said that, and I find it odd that we don't see the source.
Ballpark, night. Bionic Boy tosses a ball and examines his wound, which looks like it has one of those liquid Band-Aids slathered on it. I almost bought some of that stuff the other day, just to see what it would be like, but I chickened out. Horatio and Hector arrive to give him a pep talk. He's going to have to miss a few games because of his arm, and he notes that playing baseball's not as much fun as he thought. "There's no point in playing the game if it's not fun, right?" Hector asks, and then goes off on a heavy-handed and fairly insulting allegory about why Jackie Robinson played the game. The point is that Jackie Robinson was picked as the first black ballplayer because not only was he going to be awesome at the game, but his strength of character could withstand all the horrors he would have to go through. "He was fighting for something," Bionic Boy catches on, and nods.
D the D and Khanita play the birth control pill recording back for Husband and Wife Client. "If things you said when you were horny were legally binding, the world would be seriously messed up," Wife Client's attorney says. Oh, I'm...whatever. The attorney argues with Khanita whether what's on the screen is that Wife Client wants children. "That is what's on the screen," Wife Client jumps in. All are agog. Husband Client smiles, "You want a baby?" Wife Client's attorney tries desperately to save his stash of cash and says that nothing they say there is legally binding, but both Khanita and D the D shush him. Wife Client says she wants to start a family of their own. Tricky, this is her NEW way of kicking the Elderlies to the Depends curb. Husband Client tries to make her understand that you don't just "start a family, you continue one." Wife Client whines that "all that time, all that attention" should have been saved to be lavished on their own baby because "it doesn't belong to the parents, it belongs to the children." I REALLY hope her own future kids get a videotape of this and submit it as evidence in court for not being required to look after her. Husband Client looks back at D the D and says, "Fifty percent, equal shares. It's as much my fault as hers." Wife Client huffs. I don't get it -- fifty percent of what? Their estate? And if so, why's she huffing about it if she brought forth the case and he's now admitting his own fault?
D the D says he doesn't have to give her anything, and admits that he made two mistakes on their original marriage contract: "One -- I should have defined 'family' way more clearly. Stupid. Two -- I should have gotten everybody's signature, okay? All six of you, so this time I'm gonna do it right and you're all gonna remain...family." Husband Client smiles at Wife Client, who looks tearful but still has her arms crossed bitchily. D the D says he's going to draw up a new contract that clearly lays out everyone's responsibility and limits: "Donna is not a maid. She is, however, a daughter-in-law, which means occasionally having to drive family members to the doctor. On the other hand, she's also a wife, which means your bedroom is off-limits every night to everyone but yourselves after -- I don't know -- ten o'clock?" Husband Client agrees. So, if a child is born and wanders into their room after ten o'clock because he/she is throwing up or afraid of a storm, are they going to sue the kid for breach of contract? Oh, I guess not, because the kid won't have signed any papers yet. Or maybe the signature will be encoded into their DNA so that by choosing to be born, they automatically agreed to the terms of the contract. You think I'm being ridiculous? I think this show's ridiculous! Donna adds that Sunday mornings are for sex as well. "And we can get a legal obligation from my dad to do the 4 AM feeding," Husband Client tells Wife, who then makes out with him. Hey, it's not ten o'clock or Sunday morning, so I think I'm gonna sue you. Khanita smiles and touches her throat. D the D permits himself a strained smile. After all of this, I have one question: at what time, exactly, is the kitchen table off-limits?
Khanita tried to get D the D to admit that he really hasn't changed that much in eight years and still is a big ol' softy dick. She insists that he's sweet. "You gonna sleep with me if I am?' D the D demands, once more taking refuge in offensive remarks. "Yes, because I sleep with all sweet men," Khanita sarcasms sweetly. "I'm a nice slut." Heh. D the D says that the case was over, and their bill would have been the same whether the couple made up or not. "The only difference now is that we get a whole 'nother retainer. Six-party marriage contract -- that's gotta be a hundred hours in billing, easy don't you think? Now that's sweet." Khanita smiles, because she doesn't believe his faux faux machismo and because having no spine is so, so comfortable. Just ask Joey Potter.
We're back trying to decide what is adequate compensation for D the D's assiness. He saunters in as Hannah barters. "Sorry I'm late," he says. "I'm sure you are," Miles comments. "I do have a practice, Miles," D the D says. "I'm just saying, you're not sorry," Miles says. "Point taken," D the D concedes. "He's evil, isn't he?" Hannah comments, jerking a thumb at him. Then why'd you hire him? The ex-assistants snicker. "There is a principle here -- people should be warned," Hannah says. All the assistants nod. "We still need a non-disclosure agreement," Hannah says. Miles rejects that. Hannah offers four weeks severance and a commitment that no one will ever again have to suffer like they have. "You're gonna fire him?" an assistant asks. "He'd just find another job and hire another assistant," Hannah chuckles. "So, I'm just promising to be nice?" D the D asks. "No, you're never gonna abuse an assistant again because you're never gonna have an assistant again -- I won't let you hire one," Hannah says. The assistants look interested at this. D the D twiddles his thumbs nervously. The assistants' attorney bitches that four weeks severance is less than offered yesterday, but Miles accepts the offer on all their behalves.
Back to the Boring Bionic Baseball Case. League's Attorney closing-arguments about rules being made for a reason. People and baseball need limits. BORED! Horatio sneers and gets up. Why isn't Hector, as the senior law dude, making the closing? Oh, right, he's not as hot and has less of a reason to practice his accent. Horatio closing-arguments that five thousandths of a second isn't important in the big scheme of things, and that Ted Williams had an advantage because he could read a ball in flight. And he's cryogenically frozen -- possibly even thawed at this point. Horatio thinks they can't start making rules about who is more human than the guy, because they're heading for "a very dark and ugly place." And no one but NO ONE wants to be inside Dubya's head, dammit! In all this "inspiration" we learn that some "fan" threw a bottle at Bionic Boy this afternoon. I thought bottles in stadiums were banned for that very reason. Is it that, In The Future, we're dumber about shit like that? Horatio sits down, and Hector gives him the thumbs-up, which means he's supposed to steal second. Even if this show dies, he's still the hottest thing on television anywhere. Stay gold, Horatio, stay gold.
D the D bitches at Hannah about needing an assistant. Hannah tells him he's going to have an electronic assistant. Ah, so this would be the intro of Hoxy. D the D demands to know "Where is it?" of the prototypical "office computer guy." He's got funny hair, funny glasses, loud clothes, and he's crabby. "It's loading," Computer Guy tells him. D the D demands to know what it will look like. "Whatever you want it to look like," Computer Guy surlies, and then he's gonna make fun of yoooou! D the D tells Hannah that he cannot "deal" with a computerized assistant. Hannah tells him he can't "deal" with a human assistant. D the D says he needs a human to abuse so he can vent, because it "keeps [him] level." "Kick a wall," Hannah orders him, and leaves. Computer Guy tells D the D, "It'll answer phones, bring up files, draft letters without spelling mistakes -- can do pretty much anything a human assistant can do." D the D wants to know if it can lie. "In two hundred and seven languages," Computer Guy tells him. D the D seems satisfied.
Boring Bionic Baseball Case. After citing some more baseball history about the ridicule suffered by the first guy (Charlie Waitt) ever to use a glove in 1875, Judge Baseball Case rules that the bionic eye shouldn't prevent Bionic Boy from playing baseball. Hugs all around. The press hold out digital cameras (you can tell they're digital because they are specifically not holding them up to their eyes, although I have to admit that, even today, a lot of the press hold cameras over their heads when snapping) and take pictures of the League's attorney.
Baseball stadium at night. Crowd. Roars. Bionic Boy steps up to the plate. There are some boos, some cheers. Hector and Horatio are there, cheering. Bionic Boy nearly gets taken out by the first pitch as the pitcher intentionally tries to hit him. The crowd gasps and Horatio gets to his feet, yelling. Whatever, he only understands rugby rules. Bionic Boy picks himself up, brushes himself off, and then nods and winks at the pitcher. For some reason, this makes the pitcher smile and decide he doesn't want to peg him any more. Horatio, with his bionic eyes, seems to catch all this and starts cheering. Bionic Boy gets ready to swing again. Close-up on his face, the screen goes black, there's silence, then a bat cracks and the crowd, well, I won't lie to you, it does go wild.
I'm willing to bet that, In The Future, I can sue to get those hours back of my life.
Week Or Actually Three Days From Now: It's Suing for Algernon.