Amy's sitting at her desk in the courtroom. She asks Bruce how many cases are left before lunch: Just one. "Good," she says, "stand back and observe how fast I can work when my stomach's involved." Well, it's nice to know that you've got your priorities straight. You know, lunch versus the welfare of children. Way to be invested in your work. Amy asks the prosecutor, Dobbs, (well, if family court technically even has "prosecutors") to step up to bat. I'd like to take this moment to point out that, in a shout-out to Super Tuesday, Dobbs bears a disturbing resemblance to George W. Bush. In a shocking and unforeseen plot development, this week on Judging Amy the case in front of the judge involves a custody battle! Dobbs explains that his client, Mr. Axelrod, is seeking full custody of his son because the child's mother, Ms Featherstone, is "a witch." You'd think that Mr. Axelrod would be okay with that, seeing as at over at UC Sunnydale, he works as a scientist associate of the Evil Bitch Monster of Death in a super-secret think tank called the Initiative. The CBS and WB universes must be different. Amy says "A what?" Bruce looks up from his tiny desk in the corner, where he's doing the crossword puzzle, his interest piqued. Axelrod repeats that Ms. Featherstone is "a witch." Featherstone rolls her eyes dramatically. You'd think, considering the fact that she's battling to prove her fitness as a mother, that she'd bother to comb her hair. Amy asks Axelrod to "qualify that statement," at which point Ms. Featherstone protests that he doesn't know what he's talking about. Amy, who, I guess, is still hungry, tells her to shut up. Okay, actually she tells her that because this is just a "show-cause hearing," she'll have plenty of time to present her side of the story. Featherstone gives Axelrod the look of death. Amy surmises that when Axelrod calls Featherstone a witch, that he really means...something else. (If this were on another network, she'd actually say the word "bitch," but, you know, the address is CBS.) Axelrod says no, he means she's actually a witch. When Amy asks Featherstone what, exactly, is going on, Featherstone takes the opportunity to give the "please don't take my baby away, your honor" speech which, it seems, every television show involving trial procedure or the law in general is contractually obligated to include at least twice a month. Bruce rolls his eyes. He needs to work on fostering empathy for others, although if I heard that particular speech as much as he probably doess, I'd probably start running my own little cottage industry from the confines of my desk, making faux flower arrangements from stray subpoenas and unfiled motions, just out of pure boredom. Amy interrupts to ask Featherstone why, exactly, Axelrod thinks she's a witch. Featherstone explains, "Technically speaking, I am a witch." Bruce looks skeptical. Amy looks upset. It looks like another lunch of Doritos and Diet Coke from the vending machine for our presiding judge.
Over at DCF, Maxine "Lacey" Gray follows her evil supervisor Susie "Dick" Nixon, across the office. I'd like to point out that Susie is played by Wendy Makkena, who's best known for playing Sister Mary Robert in both Sister Act and its heartwarming sequel Sister Act 2; Back in the Habit . Considering the fact that Tyne Daly has done a bunch of Broadway, winning a Tony award for Gypsy, maybe we can look forward to a brassy, show-stopping duet between the two of them. Maxine is wearing, like, eight things around her neck: her glasses, a whistle (is she a gym teacher in her spare time?), what looks like a bunch of keys, and a little chalk board and a piece of chalk in case she's suddenly struck dumb like the women in The Piano, but still wants to be able to tell everyone in her family what to do. Well, not that last thing. Snoozy Susie is filling Maxine in on the details of her latest assignment -- two kids, chronic bruising, acting out, "inappropriate sexual behavior." Hey, I watch Law and Order-- that sounds like child abuse to me! The family's name is Compson. I wonder for a brief moment if that's an allusion to The Sound and the Fury, William Faulkner's classic novel about incest, madness, and this really screwed up family, the Compsons. Then I remember that I'm watching Judging Amy, not American Masters . Maxine, with her steel-trap mind, remembers the family name (maybe from American Lit 101?). According to Susie, who couldn't, clearly, care less if she tried -- DCF employees today! -- the Compsons are "repeat visitors." Maxine tells Susie that she worked the case last time, but that "nothing concrete was ever established" in terms of the charges. Susie, flipping though papers on her desk and foolhardily ignoring Maxine and her Many Years of Wisdom and Experience, asks if there was evidence of abuse last time. Maxine admits that she inherited the case from another social worker and that while the judge assigned to the case believed the family's "'she's just accident-prone' defense," she thought there was "something very wrong " with the Compson family. I wonder if Maxine will be right in the end? I just don't know. I wish I could run ahead in time to find out. Susie condescendingly tells Maxine to "try not to miss it this time." What a beeyotch. I wouldn't talk to Maxine that way -- she could drop-kick me across the room. On her way out the door, Maxine remarks that she hopes the third Compson kid is having an easier time of it. Susie wonders what the hell Maxine is talking about, because the Compsons only have two children, a boy and a girl. You can tell that she just wants Maxine to leave so she can read a magazine and cackle to herself. But no, Maxine clearly remembers the youngest child, because he had "pediatric myopia, wore the Coke-bottle glasses." Susie just purses her lips and tells Maxine she has the wrong family. Maxine says she's pretty sure she doesn't. Susie sort of sniffs and dismissively tells Maxine that "the information is pretty clear. And you don't always have to be right." Ah, Susie, you are so wrong. Get with the program. Maxine gives Susie the tightest, fakest smile in the world and tromps out of the office.
That is a lot of action before the credits even roll.
Lauren, the World's Cutest Child, is wearing this crazy patchwork sweater which I think was stolen from Alyson Hannigan's trailer over on the Buffy set. She's at school, in what appears to be the world's largest indoor playground. Is it recess? Why aren't they outside? Do kids her age still have big old playrooms in their classrooms? Whatever. Lauren clambers inside this nifty playhouse thing, climbing down into a carpeted cavern-type space. How big is this playroom? My God. Anyway, inside the cavern, a little coven of slightly older boys sit in a circle. One, who has "bully" written all over him already, is talking about ghosts. Gee -- witches, ghosts, carpeted caverns, could this possibly be the Halloween episode? I wonder. "I don't mean dumb fake ghosts," the bully says, "I mean real dead people." I'd like to take this moment to please, please, please ask that the writers not turn this into some kind of The Sixth Sense Revisited. If the bully says he sees dead people, I'm leaving. The Bully sees Lauren lurking behind his posse and tells her to get lost. She wants to know what they're talking about, but the Bully tells her she's too young to listen. She contradicts this by bringing up the irrefutable fact that she's in the first grade, and she stays up until 9 PM. OK, can I just say that when I was in the first grade, my parents made me go to bed at 8:30, right after The Cosby Show? I used to have to sneak out of bed and lay on the floor outside the den to listen to Family Ties. Lauren is so lucky. Sorry. Anyway, the Bully tells Lauren that if she really must know, he's talking about "the Ghost of the Red Coat." A much scarier story, I personally think, is the Ghost of the Ugly Patchwork Sweater. But that's just me. Inching closer to the boys, Lauren warily opines that there's no such thing as ghosts. The Bully ignores her and spins a tale about a soldier in the Revolution who was captured by the "Blue Coats" (I know the Red Coats are the British, but I've never heard the Americans called the Blue Coats. I guess it's too much to expect historical accuracy from a third grader). This Red Coat guy was then thrown into a dungeon and only given one tiny, bug-filled bowl of porridge a day. Lauren is more upset by the idea of eating bugs than she is by the thought of being chained in a dank cell. The Bully elaborates by telling the group that, eventually, the Red Coat was eaten by rats, "first his eyes, then his tongue," (ew!) and that now, every year around Halloween, "the ghost of Red Coat comes back, and goes by every house, looking in the windows, looking for kids to get, especially little girls with long hair [Lauren protectively clutches her own hair], and if he catches you looking at him, he steals your voice [wow, the Judging Amy writers really have been watching Buffy!] and throws you in a dungeon for the rest of your life." Lauren looks totally stricken.
This segues into Featherstone -- you know, voice-stealing specters, Wicca practitioners, same diff -- every vein in her neck sticking out, explaining that Wicca is the oldest religion in the world. Axelrod bursts out that Wicca is not a religion, it's just a "bunch of nutcases who run around in the woods in long robes with deer antlers on their heads!" What a tolerant guy. I would be really willing to hand over a child to him to raise, especially seeing as, according to Featherstone, Axelrod was around to sow his seed and that was about it. Amy tells Axelrod not to interrupt, and reminds him that while they're talking off the record, she is still in charge. She gives him an extremely dirty look as Bruce rubs his eyes; probably wishing he'd studied something else in school -- chemistry, say, or taxidermy. Maybe he's wondering if he gets any more lines in this episode, or if it's time for him to start going on auditions again. Featherstone compares the rituals of Wicca to Catholicism and Axelrod has another outburst, this time about how Catholics don't chant or cast spells. Dude, have you ever been to Mass? There's no spell casting, but plenty of chanting type behavior. Anyway, Amy tells Axelrod to can it -- again. Dobbs smarmily speaks up and asks Amy if they're going to have to sit through a history lecture on "wic-can-an-ism?"
Amy's stomach must really be growling, because she gets all snippy and tells Dobbs that if his office is going to make the argument that Featherstone's practice of witchcraft is dangerous to her son, then she has to know what witchcraft is. Duh, Dobbs. Sit down. Featherstone says that Wiccans are just trying to live in a way that's closer to nature, contrary to the popular belief that they're pointy-hatted broomstick riders. Her lawyer moves for summary dismissal, on the grounds that Dobbs hasn't come anywhere near proving his case. Amy agrees that there seems to be no proof that Featherstone is harming her son. Dobbs says he's "getting to that," and Bruce and Amy exchange disgusted looks. Dobbs says that last year, Featherstone took the kid off the antibiotics that had been prescribed to him for an ear infection and could have caused serious hearing damage. Axelrod, who cannot seem to keep his mouth shut, makes the persuasive argument that "these people are insane!" Amy, this time, turns all the way around in her chair so she can roll her eyes at Bruce. I'd like to take this moment to mention that I think she's got a little crush on Bruce. He is kind of a babe. So now Featherstone's neck veins are really standing out -- they're actually scaring me -- as she reads Axelrod the riot act for neglecting their son for eight years. He tells her that she's sick and she needs help. I don't know if she's sick the way he seems to think she's sick, but her neck veins could use some attention from a qualified physician. Featherstone tells Axelrod that he's the sick one, using the courts to steal her child. Amy, bored, looks down at her desk, probably thinking about the sandwich in the mini-fridge in her office. She finally breaks up their bickering by setting a trial date and warning them to cut out the mud slinging.
Yay! It's my boyfriend Vincent -- finally! He comes loping out of a university building, towards an actual Hey! It's That Guy! whose name I don't know and who isn't on IMDb's cast list for this episode. In true HITG fashion, though, you'd recognize him if you saw him. HITG is wearing the Official Professor Costume -- you know, tweedy coat, fedora in matching tweedy material, plaid oxford shirt and glasses. I never saw an English professor wear this ensemble in the four years I was at UCLA, but it seems to be de rigeur in TV land. Vincent asks if he missed office hours. I'd like to take this moment to say that while Vincent is my boyfriend, and I love him very much, I wish he would wash his hair. I didn't leave Scott Speedman for greasy hair, Vincent. Anyway, the Prof. calls Vincent his favorite "wretched, ink-stained, miserable literary genius," and, I swear to God, totally checks Vincent out, looking him up and down and undressing him with his eyes. Vincent grins and says he's not miserable -- he was only miserable while he was taking the Prof.'s class. The Prof. says he was always "hardest on his best students." Are they flirting? Do I have to take the Prof. outside? What's going on, here? Vincent and the Prof. chuckle companionably, and Vincent sits down, asking the Prof. why he need to talk to him. Well, Vincent, it's because he's in love with you. Wait, no, it's not. Apparently, it's because the Prof. thinks Vincent's short stories are brilliant. "Really?" Vincent asks. The Prof. admits that he's been "betting on" Vincent for years, and that he sent his stories to some literary agents at the creatively named Artists Literary Talent, where they "responded" to his work. Vincent does that thing where he repeats everything that's said to him, and parrots "Artists Literary Talent?" Apparently, according to the Prof., one of the literary agents was a former classmate of Vincent's who remembers him -- Hillary Baker. "Hillary Baker?" Vincent repeats. Is there an echo there? Let me tell you, Vincent's short stories might be genius, but I think he needs to work on his witty repartee. Vincent gazes, pained, into the distance, and chuckles ruefully before telling the Prof. that Hillary Baker is "the single most evil entity I've encountered in my life." Get it? The Halloween episode? Witches? Ghosts? Evil literary agents? So clever. Vincent looks nauseated as the Prof. laughs in his face, evidently amused by his dismay. Now, I know Vincent is my boyfriend and all, but his ears look huge in this scene.
CBS's version of the blipvert -- the "evocative" black-and-white photos that divide each story line -- make their first appearance in this episode. All kids in crazy fright masks. I don't get it. Is it Halloween, or something?
At the Gray dinner table, Maxine is complaining that "this Susie Nixon person" treats her like an idiot. Amy tells her that "the world is full of annoying people," and that she should "try not to be one of them." Can I get that promise in writing? Thank you. Lauren asks to be excused. She's probably worried that The Gentlemen are coming. I mean, the Ghost of the Red Coat. Whatever. Amy tells her that she hasn't eaten anything. I notice that Amy has this huge bottle of beer to her dinner plate. After the Featherstone/Axelrod bitchfest, I don't really blame her. I would have cracked open a cold one right there on the bench. Vincent, still unbathed, wanders into the kitchen looking like a homeless person, and asks if the kitchen is still open. He explains that his roommate is "breaking up with his girlfriend again," and that they kicked him out. Vincent, you can come stay with me! I'll bathe you and everything. Maxine waves her chopsticks at Vincent as she opines that "those two need to get married," because, you know, getting married solves any conflict you might have in a relationship. Just like having a baby will solve all marital problems. Boy, she really doesn't pay attention at work, does she? Amy claims that she doesn't think Vincent's apartment even exists, since she's never seen it. He invites her to "come by at your own risk." Lauren asks to be excused AGAIN. Let her go, Amy! Jeez. Instead, Amy attempts to entice Lauren to stay at the table by telling her that she's going to the PTA meeting at Lauren's school the following evening. As if Lauren cares. She's got some crazy militiaman coming to steal her voice and lock her in a dungeon. She's got other problems. Maxine says she'd rather "be burned at the stake than go to one of those meetings." Get it? The Wicca storyline? Burned at the stake? Salem witch trials? See? How clever. If "clever" means "obvious," and "labored." Amy says that she just wants to feel like a normal mom. Then I suggest cutting yourself free of the cushy, free child care and the high-paying job. We'll see how much you like being a normal mom then. Amy confesses that she is looking forward to discussing the Halloween carnival at the meeting, and that it should be "fuuuuuuuuun." Obviously, Amy has never been to a PTA meeting. Or she has a really weird concept of what "fun" actually is. Maxine charitably admits that the PTA may have changed since her day. Vincent totally ignores his entire family. Amy brings up Lauren's least favorite subject by asking what she wants to be for Halloween. Lauren, in the world's most uninterested tone, says she doesn't know. All this talk of costumes has awoken Vincent from the stupor that any discussion between his sister and mother seems to induce and he suggests that Lauren go as a vampire, because they're cool, with all the "long fangs, big cape, lots of fake blood." (Vincent doesn't watch Buffy, I guess). Lauren demurs. Amy tries to work up her enthusiasm by telling her that the trick-or-treating around town is "first-rate...none of that healthy stuff, like apples." Let me tell you, apples are bad, but my neighbor, who also happened to be my orthodontist, used to give out toothbrushes. Nothing kills the Halloween spirit quicker than the mention of oral hygiene. Lauren says that maybe she shouldn't go trick-or-treating at all, because she thinks she's growing out of candy. Amy -- having, I suppose, ignored all the uncomfortable looks and weird behavior Lauren's exhibited throughout dinner -- reminds Lauren that she loves Halloween, but doesn't, oh, I don't know, just ASK HER WHAT'S WRONG. She excuses Lauren to go watch TV, and tells Maxine that "that's not normal." Maxine eats her Chinese food and basically tells Amy not to worry about it. Vincent offers to go trick-or-treating with Amy. Hey, Vincent, you can -- no, that's just too easy. You can fill in the blank there. Amy wonders if Lauren heard about the "witch trial" at school and if that's why she's all freaked out. Vincent, who has a can of beer, in contrast to Amy's bottle and Maxine's glass (because, you know, Maxine is the old-skool, classy dame, Amy is the yuppie, and Vincent is, well, not all that refined), asks her what's she talking about. Amy realizes that she isn't supposed to be talking about a trial over which she's presiding, and scurries off to check on Lauren, with nary an explanation. It obviously psychically hurts Maxine to get teased with such good gossip and be denied the payoff, but Vincent just takes a swig of beer. He's an uncomplicated man, my Vincent.
Amy is walking Lauren to school, and still trying to talk her into the whole Halloween thing. I have to say, whoever did the casting here did a good job. They look like mother and daughter to me -- more so, for example, than Ruthie and Mrs. Camden on 7th Heaven do. After trying to talk Lauren into being a cowgirl for Halloween and getting rebuffed yet again, Amy FINALLY just asks Lauren what's wrong. Lauren responds with the classic "nothing," and asks Amy if she can get her hair cut, because she's tired of long hair. Amy freaks. See, because Lauren, as Amy's daughter, is a reflection of Amy herself, and Amy has long hair and Lauren has long hair, and if Lauren cuts her hair, what will that mean about their relationship and, more importantly, about Amy herself? Also, will it sap all of Lauren's strength, making the temple fall to ruins about them? Wait, that's someone else. Anyway, Amy, who is wearing her own hair in this crazy braids criss-crossed on top of the head Fraulein-Maria do, just tells Lauren no, because her hair is beautiful. Amy, are you really talking about hair? Or about the fragile relationship between a mother and her daughter? Lauren eyes The Bully, who is lolling around on the steps of the school, as Amy begs her again to tell Mommy what's bothering her. Lauren just asks Amy to think about the haircut thing. Amy promises that she will, and Lauren trudges into school without taking Amy up on her proferred kiss. Denied! Wait until she's seventeen and missing her curfew, running around with some ne'er-do-well from the wrong side of the tracks, Amy. Then you'll wish her hair was all you had to worry about.
Maxine approaches a nice, two-storey house, briefcase in hand. As a sidebar -- I recognize that house! I used to drive by it on the way to school in the morning! I guess Judging Amy films in southern California. Anyway, back to our feisty older -- but not OLD -- heroine. Inside the house, Ma Compson complains about how hurtful it is to have their home invaded this way, especially since they pay so much in taxes. I fail to see what either of those things has to do with the other, and, clearly, so does Maxine, as she points out that DCF doesn't get to choose who they investigate, but that they do have to follow up on all reports. She pulls a little Mary Beth Lacey out of the old bag of tricks as she toughly reminds Ma Compson that this is not her family's first run-in with DCF. Ma Compson is in the midst of getting all defensive when the Compson Girl, Theresa, trudges into the living room. Maybe I'm only used to seeing attractive people on TV, but this entire family looks awful. Doesn't anyone on this show wash their hair? It's like that episode of Seinfeld where Jerry's building has low-flow shower heads installed and he and Kramer are walking around with really flat hair. Except without the funny. Maxine asks why Theresa is not in school. Mrs. Compson blames it on Theresa's wicked harsh asthma. Maxine tells the Compson women that the school nurse is concerned about some bruises on Theresa's body. Theresa resorts to the old stand-by of "I bruise easy." Dude, anyone who's ever watched ER knows that's got to be a lie. I'd like to see Doug Ross let that one slide. Ma Compson explains that Theresa's "got thin skin. It's hereditary." Maxine looks unconvinced as Pa Compson trudges down the stairs, all dolled up in his jammies. ["Not that there's anything wrong with that. -- Wing Chun, typing this in her pyjamas at 4:43 PM] Ma Compson tries to convince Maxine that Pa Compson is not a total layabout by explaining that he works nights and he always gets up at this time of day. Maxine smiles patronizingly and asks about their son, Kenneth. He's in school. Then Maxine whips out the big guns and asks about the third, mystery child. Ma Compson denies that they have another child. Maxine reminds Ma Compson that she was on the case the last time DCF investigated her family, and that she distinctly remembers another boy, named Timothy. Theresa looks like she's going to barf as Ma Compson tries to convince Maxine that she must be thinking of one of the neighbor kids. "Maybe so," Maxine says. Nice try, Ma Compson, but you have no idea who you're up against.
Back in the courtroom, Featherstone is on the stand while Dobbs mentions that Evan Featherstone, the child, may have participated in some of the "strange ceremonies" Featherstone and her Krazy Kult of Wiccan sistas perform. I don't know how much harm being raised by a Wicca could do the kid, but it can't be anymore harmful than going through life named Evan Featherstone. Amy asks Featherstone if it's true that Evan was involved in any rituals, and Featherstone admits that while they have ceremonies, Evan has only ever watched. Amy asks for an example of a ceremony, and Featherstone starts talking about gods and goddesses and watchtowers of the north, south, east and west blah, blah blah new agecakes. Her lawyer looks perturbed as Featherstone swears that it's all "completely harmless." I mean, whatever floats your boat, but Axelrod is due for a blow-up, and I think mumbo jumbo about "watchtowers of the north" is probably going to set him off. Sure enough, he leaps up and screams, "Satanic rituals are harmless?!" Featherstone's lawyer objects, and says, "No one mentioned Satan." I don't know why, but all this talk about Satan is making me chortle. Where's Bruce? Because he must be cracking up. Dobbs looks about as interested as a man watching paint dry. Amy takes some notes -- on Satan, presumably -- as Featherstone explains that Satan is a Christian construct and isn't acknowledged in Wicca on any level. Featherstone's lawyer argues that because this is all tied into his client's religious beliefs, this evidence is inadmissible. Amy agrees, and tells Dobbs to move on. Dobbs calls Featherstone's old babysitter, Joanne Arnold, to the stand. Joanne says she stopped babysitting Evan because she was scared of what was going on "in that house." Featherstone says that's "garbage." Joanne asks Amy to make Featherstone stop looking at her. I guess she did research for her testimony by reading The Crucible right before she took the stand. Featherstone says she fired Joanne for stealing $140 from her. Joanne counters that Featherstone freaked her out when she offered to cast a spell on Joanne's boyfriend, who Joanne suspected was checking out other girls. Amy asks Featherstone, haltingly, if she did "cast. A. Spell?" Featherstone explains that a spell is just another word for a prayer. I don't think Featherstone is helping her own cause very much, here. Joanne says that Featherstone told her the spell would make her boyfriend impotent with other women. This prompts ANOTHER outburst from Axelrod -- can someone please hold this man in contempt of court? -- who screams that Featherstone hates men and is passing that on to his son. Wah wah, buddy. If you want your son raised a certain way, try helping to raise him. Also, I'm just so sure that you're going to raise him as a paragon of tolerance. But that's only my opinion. Featherstone's lawyer asks again that Featherstone's religious beliefs be protected. Amy reminds him that Wicca isn't recognized as a religion in that state, and that, basically, she's already giving him a break on that count. Dobbs asks if he may call another witness and Amy refuses. Dobbs can't believe it (hee hee. I hate Dobbs). Amy dismisses Joanne and asks that counsel approach the bench, where she tells Dobbs that his witnesses are crap, and Featherstone's poor, nameless lawyer that he can't equate Wicca with the Rotary club. She lays down the law (literally. Because, see, she's a judge) and tells them that she's setting one more day for the trial, and they better give her some decent evidence. Or else.
Vincent is at the literary agency, where an older agent type guy tells him that Hillary has spoken very highly of him. Vincent, thank God, has bathed and cleaned up for the meeting. The agent guy brings up the fact that Vincent won the Pushcart Prize a few years ago and then "dropped out of sight." Vincent explains he "needed some time to think," and looks warily over his shoulder at Hillary, who appears to be wearing a black cocktail dress. In the office. The senior agent dashes off, leaving the two crazy kids alone. Hillary comments that senior agents like to "drop in and take credit for your work." Vincent takes off the kid gloves and snarkily comments that's a "maneuver she's familiar with." Me-yow, Vincent. Hillary gets snippy with Vincent and tells him she "did not steal his story. There're similarities, sure, but, you know, there's nothing new under the sun." I find it hard to believe, even at this early date, that any of Hillary's writing could possibly be original, as she certainly speaks entirely in clichés. Vincent does his patented look off into the distance maneuver, as if to consider her point: "Blind widow starts to believe that her husband has been reincarnated in the form of a young Iranian boy. No, you're right, that's a universal story." Heh. See? Vincent rocks. He takes a violent swig of coffee (or IS IT?) as Hillary -- proving once and for all that she has no soul -- laughs at his impugning of her character and calls it "water under the bridge." What an clever and original turn of phrase. Hillary tells Vincent that she can get him published, although it "means work" for her. Excuse me, but isn't that your JOB? Working to get people published? What else are you doing at the office, other than that? I hate Hillary. Vincent admits that of course he wants to be published. Hillary slithers around to face Vincent and voices her concern that he might have another "breakdown like he did in college." She asks if he can assure her that he won't. Instead of telling her to shut up about his breakdown, and dramatically tossing his cup of coffee into her face, Vincent just mutters that he needs to think about all this. He does look pissed, though.
PTA meeting. Clearly, these mothers are diabolical, because they only serve decaf coffee. Amy introduces herself to two of the other mothers, who say they've heard about her. Their names are Nancy and FARRAH. Is that some kind of weird Charlie's Angels shout-out that I don't get, or were the writers just punchy while they wrote this scene? Anyway, Farrah's little boy Clive (Clive!) is in love with Lauren (told you she was going to be trouble), and Amy and Farrah decide to set a play date for the kiddies. You know this is going to go badly, don't you? Because there's only decaf, and one of the women is named Farrah. None of that bodes well.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Lauren gets a pair of scissors out of a drawer. The entire Western Hemisphere and I can see where this is going. Luckily, Maxine intercepts Lauren before she chops off her hair. Of course, because Maxine so smart and insightful -- as opposed to Lauren's Halloween-obsessed mother -- she gets Lauren to tell her the entire Bully/Ghost/Hair/Dungeon story. Maxine tells Lauren not to worry about anyone locking her anywhere, and that there are no such things as ghosts. "How are you sure?" Lauren asks. "I'm sure. I'm old," Maxine says. Okay, I laughed at that. I have to say, Maxine is probably a really good grandma. She's extremely bossy, but she'd have your back. Also, she looks like she'd be smushy to hug, and she'd probably let you brush her hair. All very important Grandmother qualities. Maxine tells Lauren that Amy always had long hair, and she never had any problems with ghosts. And, you know, if it didn't happen to Amy, it won't happen to Lauren. I hope Lauren doesn't turn that logic upside down and deduce that she's destined to get divorced and move back in with her mother, because that could negatively affect her self-esteem. Nevertheless, Maxine's logic seems to comfort Lauren for the time being. Maxine then asks Lauren to introduce her to "this Darian" (the Artist Formerly Known as The Bully) the time she drops her off at school. Uh oh, somebody's going to get a spanking.
The PTA meeting is in full swing, and, lo and behold, it blows. The PTA has decided to ban ghost, monster, witch and vampire costumes, along with "violent gangster" (as opposed to the less popular pacifist gangster) and "Darryl Strawberry" costumes. Nancy, who I think has wandered in from the set of The Stepford Wives 2000, says that any kid who shows up in an inappropriate costume will be asked to leave. Amy has to upset the apple cart, and says that she doesn't get what they're trying to do, that they're taking away the children's imaginations, that they're overreacting. Stepford Nancy gets all worked up and tells Amy dismissively that she should have joined the PTA earlier if she wanted a say in this Halloween hullabaloo. Stepford Nancy then primly announces that the Haunted House has also been canceled. Amy gets even more disgusted and perturbed and accuses the PTA of censorship. Stepford Nancy tells Amy that if she doesn't agree with them, she ought to leave. Apparently, the PTA is not a benevolent dictatorship, the way Amy's house is. Stepford Nancy pulls out all the stops and mentions that they all know "there's a witch trial underway" and that "right here, in our town, cult members are raising children." Oh, puhleeeze. Amy says that if they're saying what she thinks they're saying, she can't be there, because it violates judicial ethics. Stepford Nancy gives her this smarmy look and says it's Amy's call. Amy looks embarrassed and disgusted and disappointed and storms out. There goes Lauren's play date with Clive.
Can Sherry Stringfield still be classified as "ER's Sherry Stringfield?" If so, can I still refer to Michael J Fox as "Family Ties' Michael J Fox?" Also, what happened to Sherry Stringfield's hair?
At the Gray Compound, Maxine gives Amy the old I Told You So about the PTA and unleashes some spiel about being a leader, not a follower. She then brags about getting the truth out of Lauren, and tells Amy to let her sit out Halloween if she wants. Amy tells her mother that fear is "a contagious and dangerous thing," and that Lauren has to work through it. See, she learned a lesson last night about the Danger of Living in Fear. It makes you go all Stepford Wives, and also, it ruins major commercial holidays.
Vincent, brushing his teeth, answers the door to see Hillary, contracts in hand, seductively draped across his door jamb. She's wearing a shirt that's, like, totally unbuttoned. Vincent unenthusicatically invites her in. Those sexpot tactics aren't going to work on him! Vincent spits his toothpaste out into the kitchen sink, while Hillary tries to talk him into turning his short stories into a novel, because "short stories are impossible to sell." I notice she's wearing a wedding ring. What a shameless hussy! Vincent says that his stories are not a novel. Hillary says that they are. I tell Hillary to leave my boyfriend and his delicate genius (tm George Costanza) alone. Hillary saunters up to Vincent and, all touchy-feely-like, tells him that, if he takes her out to dinner and explains to her why they're not a novel, maybe she can, uh, be "persuaded." She arranges her face into this half-baked "I'm going to kiss you" look, but Vincent looks away and says that while he's sure that some people are "turned on by this kind of manipulation," he's not one of them. I am so proud. Hillary waves the contracts in his face and tells him to hold on to them, "for when the dark night of the soul kicks in." I'm not sure if she understands the literary concept behind the conceit of the dark night of the soul, but whatever. Vincent dully looks after her.
Maxine interrogates the Compson's former neighbor, who tells her that the Compsons, did, indeed, have a younger son with thick glasses. The neighbor tells Maxine that she didn't see the little boy for a long time, and when her husband asked what happened to him, Ma Compson told them that he was very sick. They assumed that he died. See? Maxine is always right. Take that, Susie Nixon! Nothing escapes the steel trap that is Maxine Gray's mind!
Back in court, Featherstone's lawyer calls a representative of the Wiccan Anti-Defamation League, who tells Amy that she is not willing to take up Featherstone's cause. D'oh! As far as the WADL is concerned, Featherstone is "a bad witch." I wonder if that means she has flying monkeys and a really big hourglass at home. Because those monkeys are scary. No child should be raised in a household with monkeys like that, flying around and kidnapping little dogs and girls from Kansas.
Maxine digs though the Compson family birth records. There is no record of a younger son, but the librarian tells her that there are lots of reasons why someone wouldn't have a record of birth -- especially if the parents are "paranoid types."
Amy is right in the midst of telling Bruce that she's ready to dismiss the case. Bruce looks like he's kind of listening to her yammer, but mostly thinking about other things, like his dry cleaning. They run into Featherstone camped out at Amy's office door. Featherstone tells Amy that she's decided to surrender her parental rights. Amy -- whose pink suit is really cute, by the way -- tries to talk Featherstone out of it. But Featherstone just got fired from her job, her own congregation has turned their back on her, she's getting hate mail, crank calls, people are vandalizing her car. Things basically just suck. Amy frantically tries to convince Featherstone to tough it out; promising her an around-the-clock guard, police protection, the use of her own personal hairbrush, but Featherstone won't have it. She has a mini-breakdown and tells Amy that Evan is safer if she isn't his mother anymore, because she's thinks she's such a weirdo. Amy tells her that she's going to pretend they never had this conversation, and commands her to go home and think about what her son means to her. Featherstone cries.
Maxine tells Susie Nixon that she's sure the Compsons killed their younger son. Susie gets snippy and forbids Maxine to go back to the Compsons, threatening to arrange a restraining order personally if she has to. But Maxine will not walk away from these children, not again! She basically tells Susie that, and Susie reacts maturely by stomping off. "It's OVER!" she yells on her way out the door. Susie, I think Maxine is going to squash you like a bug one of these days.
Amy shows up at Vincent's door. He serves her a peanut butter and banana sandwich and a soda. Nice to see that Vincent eats like Elvis. He gives Amy a quick rundown of the Hillary situation, but explains that he isn't going to sign the contract, because Hillary is one of those people who "bring down the quality of the human condition," and likens making a deal with her to making a deal with the devil. He also mentions that they shared a "tequila-related incident" in college. I assume that incident was not simply Hillary copying Vincent's story and passing it off at her own. In fact, I think he might be talking about sex. Amy, who's thought a lot about Satan recently, points out that if he lets the devil stop him, then the devil wins. Vincent just looks perplexed.
Maxine has invaded the Compson home, again, to the protests of the two children who are not presumed dead. Conveniently, their parents are out. Maxine lumbers down the stairs (I wonder why she searched the upstairs first?) and comes face to face with Theresa, who is verrrrrry subtly leaning against what looks like the basement door. Hmmm, I wonder where little Timmy could be? The Elder Brother Compson wigs out as Theresa unlocks the door and lets Maxine in.
Cut to the Senior Agent's office at the Artists Literary Talent, where Vincent stamps his foot and refuses to work with Hillary. The Senior Agent agrees to take a look at Vincent's work himself, but wants to know what Vincent has against Hillary. Ever the gentleman, Vincent doesn't say anything about their sordid past together, her habit of plagiarizing his work, or her shameless attempts at sexual harassment.
Back at the Old Compson Place, Maxine has completely morphed into Nancy Drew -- sans George and Bess, or the super-peachy blue Roadster -- discovering a SECRET DOOR behind a FAKE WALL. I suspect the secret room was what sold the Compsons on their new house, because you couldn't find a more ideal space for locking up rotten children. Maxine pushes the door open and reveals a small, blond child, with thick glasses, laying on a bed. I swear to God, it looks just like Jonathan Lipnicki. I guess he's being punished for last week's Dawson's Creek. In all seriousness, though, poor kid.
In court, Featherstone is AWOL. Her lawyer says she's agreed to surrender parental rights, and Dobbs snivels that her absence is tantamount to child abandonment. Amy can't let this case go, and threatens to subpoena Featherstone. Under duress, however, she gives Axelrod full custody of Evan. She tells his smarmy smiling face not to be so happy, though, because she feels that his actions instigated a "full-scale witch hunt" and ran Featherstone out of town. She adds that if Featherstone comes back, she's going to let her contest the decision at any time. She proceeds to gets all downtrodden and negative and wonders what the point of the entire judicial system really is, if a child can lose his mother because of hate and hysteria. I sense an even larger bottle of beer in her future.
Amy makes her second appearance in a single day at Vincent's apartment. She asks him where his roommate is, and Vincent tells her that he's getting back together with his girlfriend, and that seeing them together makes him "glad to be alone." Amy disagrees and tells him he "needs a girl." Word. He tells her that he had one, but he screwed it up. Forget the bottle of beer -- they're drinking scotch on the rocks. This is a family of boozers, I tell ya. Not that there's anything wrong with that. The phone rings. Vincent responds to the person on the other end with a series of grunts and "okay"s. He hangs up and tells Amy that the senior literary agent at Artists Literary Talent has taken him on as his own, personal, client. Good for you, Vincent! That'll show Hillary.
Amy's checking on Lauren, who is supposed to be asleep, but is not, and they have a Halloween hear- to-heart. In a nauseating conversation that I will spare you, they agree that Lauren will be an angel for Halloween, and that Amy will be "an angel's mommy." Gag me.
Amy goes downstairs to find her mother by the fire, upset about the whole Compson thing. She's beating herself up for failing to save Timothy the first time. Amy tells her that there was no way she could have known, and reminds her that now, at least, little Timmy has a chance. Maxine tells Amy that the Compsons said they did it because Timothy "wasn't normal." That is really, really, really rotten. In the most notable non sequitur of the season to date, Amy responds to her mother's serious and heart-rending story by asking if they can make pancakes. So they do. Nothing like pancakes to cap off a day of rescuing abused children and granting custody to hatemongers, I always say.
week on Judging Amy: Marlee Matlin pays the rent.