Six Billion Dollar Eye

S01E03

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?