Props to Cyber Patrol, the internet policing service which came with my computer, and which went haywire this week, preventing me from accessing the internet, period, including my email and Cyber Patrol's own site. Oh wait. No props at all. Anti-props. Bastards.
Halls of Justice. Amy is all slumping back in her chair, sans robe, chewing on what appears to be a jawbreaker. Look what's happened in the two weeks since we've been gone -- a total breakdown of the judicial system. Lawyers Dobson and Zaccaro are arguing the fate of a thirteen-year-old cocaine dealer; Dobson wants to allow him to move to Puerto Rico with his mother, Zaccaro wants to send him to the pokey. The lawyers bicker a bit, but eventually Zaccaro agrees to Dobson's request. Her only condition is that Amy treat the dealer to one of her "rants" before turning him over to his mother. Amy, in the midst of putting her robes back on, looks askance at this, probably wondering if Zaccaro has confused her with Maxine. Donna shoots Amy a nervous look. Zaccaro corrects herself. "One of your lectures," she says. Amy asks Zacarro whether this is some kind of joke, but Zaccaro assures her that it is not. "You get a kind of hectoring tone in your voice when you really getting going," she explains, twirling her left arm like an extra in the Devo "Whip It" video. "It really registers with these kids." Donna gives Amy a "well, it's true" look and Amy kind of wrinkles her noses and says she'll see what she can do. They go back on the record and call the kid and his mother into the courtroom. Amy gives them the good news, and at the throat-clearing reminder of Zaccaro, calls the kid to her desk. She manages, clearly hoping for divine intervention, or for inspiration from Maxine, to pull some rhetoric out of her ass about how the kid dashed his mother's hope for a new life, ruined her chances in the land of opportunity and how he must make it up to her even if it takes his entire life, blah blah blah guiltcakes. The kid breaks down in his mother's embrace. Zaccaro gives Amy the "okay" sign. Donna applauds silently. Amy gives the "so-so" hand waggle. The credits roll.
At DCF, Maxine is talking to a distraught young mother, who explains that while her husband is a good father, he beats her. Call me crazy, but I don't think that beating your children's mother is being a good father. Mrs. DelBello tells Maxine that she's frightened of what her husband will do to her if she leaves him and takes the children with her. She cries that her husband cannot know that she, Mrs. DelBello, came to DCF, because he would kill her. Maxine tells Mrs. DelBello that, somehow, she will investigate without involving her. "God bless you," Mrs. DelBello says. "You're a wonderful person." Maxine smiles smugly and nods. She's aware.
Over at the Halls of Justice, Amy comes skipping out of the courtroom and into the waiting arms of Bruce. Well, she runs into him in the hallway, anyway, and tells him that she "missed [him] in court this morning." I've given up on trying to figure out what Bruce's job is exactly, because one would think that he always had to be in court with Amy, but whatever. Family court clearly calls for the presence of a judge alone, and the rest of the court employees are just around to form her little posse of supportive compatriots. Bruce tells Amy that he was busy "clearing her docket." Is that what the kids are calling it in Connecticut? She flirtatiously asks if she has the day off. Bruce kind of gives her the eye and tells her that she's going to Marston, to preside over a case involving a child whose mother was put in rehab. "And now she wants him back?" Amy asks wearily. Ah, it's a common derivative of Please, Don't Take My Baby Away, known as Please, Give Me My Baby Back. Bruce exposits that the boy -- who, at 15, isn't exactly a child -- was recently put on Ritalin, and that the mother is challenging the diagnosis. Our Intrepid Judge been called to the scene because the only judge in Marston sees the same shrink the kid does and has, therefore, recused himself. Amy asks Bruce if he's coming with her. He smirks winningly at her and says that he'll drive. Let me just tell you that these two crazy kids want each other. They want each other bad.
At the Ranch, all the kiddies except for Vincent are gathered 'round the campfire -- I mean, the dinner table -- including Gillian and "Stinky Pete"er. Gillian is yammering on about Evie -- their surrogate mother -- and how she's having crazy cravings: "Chocolate, Spaghetti-Os, Ding Dongs." Gillian just described my daily diet, and if those are the cravings of pregnant women only, then I'm calling The National Enquirer because, somehow, I've been impregnated. And trust me, it sure wasn't the normal way. And now that I've told all of North America about my little dry spell, let's return to the subject at hand and hope that none of my exes are reading this, because as far as they are concerned, I am living in a beach house in Malibu with Scott Speedman. Gillian sips her coffee and comments that Evie's "getting really big." Wow, I wonder why? Maxine looks at Gillian incredulously. "Pregnant women get big," she explains. "That's a baby in there, not Ding Dongs." Duh. Lauren wonders whether Amy is pregnant, because Amy also likes Spaghetti-Os. Amy says that she is not pregnant. Stupid Peter explains that Amy can't possibly be pregnant, because she "doesn't even have a husband." Lauren astutely points out that Evie doesn't have a husband, either, and asks how she got pregnant. Amy gives Peter the world's phoniest grin and asks him if he'd like to field that question. Maxine comes to the rescue of her stupid son and informs everyone that the current discussion is not appropriate for the dinner table. Thinking about getting pregnant, I guess, reminds Amy of Bruce, because she takes this moment to ask Maxine if she can pick Lauren up from school while she's on her jaunt to Marston. Maxine can't, but Gillian offers to take charge of the darling pet, trilling that "Evie can help." This pleases Lauren, who says that they can "talk more about babies!" I'd like to point out that in this scene, Maxine has a huge bottle of wine, Amy is drinking what looks like scotch on the rocks, and I'm not entirely sure, but I think Peter was drinking Hooch. People, we have our first shout-out.
The Out of Towners
DCF; Maxine is on the phone with Mrs. DelBello, telling her that she's going to approach Mr. DelBello at work and, thus, keep Mrs. DelBello out of the entire matter. It pleases me to tell you all that last episode's Sassy Black Woman is back! I thought she'd be 86-ed for sure after telling Maxine off, but she's right at the counter between Maxine and the door. Now, if only she had a name. Anyhoo, it's a good thing something is between Maxine and the door, because who is crawling back into DCF like the snake that she is but Susie "I'm a Crook, But Apparently No One Cares. Ha Ha!" Nixon! SBW speaks for all of us when she expresses her dismay at the fact that all Susie got for stealing money (from CHILDREN, people!) is a week's suspension. Word. What's up with that? Jim, the old fogy who so memorably told Maxine she had big brass balls, explains that he doesn't want the situation to "fester" (because, you know, Maxine is so likely to keep her feelings inside), but they need Susie's help around DCF while the investigation into her little money-making scheme is ongoing. Maxine wonders what, exactly, Susie plans to do to help: "Loot the coffee money fund?" Heh. Susie looks up from her pile of papers beatifically and says that she would like to turn her energies towards "those who need them. Children at risk." Man, that woman is as phony as a three-dollar bill. Jim makes some noises about how he's sure they're all on the same page, but Maxine interrupts, "That women stole money from the department and I'm supposed to take orders from her?!" Susie shakes her head. "I told you, Jim," she chirps, all sing-songy. Jim tells Maxine that Susie will have no access to department finances and demands they "make it work." After Jim scurries from what might be the world's most hostile working environment, Susie inquires about the DelBello case, asking if Maxine will be taking the children. Maxine replies that, given the husband's "volatility," they need to be careful. She explains that she's still "considering her approach." The camera gets all in Susie's face, as she morphs into the Wicked Witch of the West again. "Make no mistake about it," she cackles. "I am in charge." She demands that Maxine have the children removed. Maxine says she needs to investigate first, because there isn't enough evidence to take that step yet. Susie snips at Maxine to investigate, then, because, after all, she's "good at that." Snarl! Girl fight! In what must have been an ad-libbed bit of blocking, Maxine smiles and then curtsies to Susie. I'm sorry, but that was funny. Susie throws a ball of flames at Maxine's back before jumping on her broomstick to return to her castle and her army of flying monkeys.
Amy and Bruce arrive in Marston, which Amy finds a quaint and charming example of small-town America. Bruce is less impressed, probably because he saw the sign on the outskirts of town which read "Welcome to The Cliché of the Repressed Small Town. We are Secretly Racist and Sexist! Enjoy Your Stay." Amy finds the tiny courtroom "picturesque," but Bruce is displeased because there is nowhere for him to sit. He's used to the luxury of that apple box he calls a desk back in Hartford. The Judicial Duo is greeted by a Down Home and Folksy Court Clerk. She asks Amy to call her Caitlin, because they "don't stand much on ceremony in Marston." Bruce takes the wind right out of her sales when he introduces himself as "Mr. Van Exel" and sends Caitlin off to find him a temporary tiny desk.
I know I never recap the "evocative" black and white photographs which occasionally serve as CBS's version of the blipvert, but I can't resist. Tonight they're all of children riding their bikes through a bucolic small town. In the first "blipvert," one child has green hair. As the show continues, more children get green hair. Dude, Pleasantville much? The blipverts are rarely particularly original, or even noteworthy, which is why I generally ignore them, but this was particularly heavy-handed and, creatively, a big fat rip-off. ["I saw the episode, and I could not agree more." -- Wing Chun]
God, finally, it's Vincent. And his hair -- stop the presses! -- is clean. Squeakily, lusciously, gloriously clean. And that would be shout-out number two. If y'all are reading this, writers, as, come on, clearly you are, I think Vincent's career ought to be as a exotic dancer in an all-male revue, and he ought to dump The Girlfriend for a slightly neurotic but still entertaining writer from Southern California, who can be reached care of Mighty Big TV. Thank you. Ahem, anyway, Vincent's hanging around the police station, coffee cup in each hand. He gives one of the lattes to a police officer, admitting that the coffee is a bribe. "You're gonna bribe me here in the hallowed HALLS OF JUSTICE?" the policeman asks in a BLATANT shoutout. Blatant, I say! Why don't they just hang up a sign saying "Jessica: We Hear You"? Vincent and the cop yammer about some story Vincent is working on, and Vincent is ready to take off, when the cop lets the cat out of the bag: The Creep who shot Vincent and attacked the Girlfriend is probably going to be set free, because Vincent's identification has been invalidated. Somehow, it's come to light that he was pressured into making the ID. The Big Bad is on the loose again. Vincent looks really ultra-pensive, even for him. He's probably thinking about how much The Girlfriend is going to wig out, and, therefore, that he is never going to have sex again.
Maxine is having at lunch a local diner. She gets into some "clever" banter with the ancient waitress, which I will spare you, all of which provides this week's Special Guest Star, Richard Crenna, with the opportunity to hit on her. He's a widower, relocated from Dallas, fairly charming, and wallet-free. He claims to have left it at the office. Maxine has the ancient waitress put it on her own tab. Richard Crenna asks Maxine to dinner. With some prodding from the ancient waitress, she agrees. Oh, that's kind of cute. Old people, thinking about getting it on.
Marston. Hall of Justice (there's only one hall). Mom is a boozehound, and talks like she has a wad of cotton stuck down the back of her throat. She's dressed like a schoolmarm out of Little House On The Prairie. She tells the court that it's awfully ironic that when she gets out of rehab, she'll return to a son who's all doped up. Can I take a sidebar to mention how very 1998 this whole Ritalin thing is? DCF's counsel explains that Ryan, Cotton Mouth's son, was diagnosed with ADD and that Ritalin is the standard treatment. DCF's counsel has the worst teeth I've ever seen on national TV, Jerry Springer guests notwithstanding. Cotton Mouth's counsel claims that any kid whose mother got sloshed and landed a bunch of people in the hospital in a drunk-driving accident, and who therefore ended up in foster care would have trouble paying attention to geometry. I have to say, I think the man has a point. Apparently, every single kid at Ryan's foster home -- and there are six of them -- is on Ritalin. And they're all under the care of the same doctor. Amy orders an evaluation of Ryan by an independent psychiatrist. One of DCF's lawyers (the bald one, not the one with the bad teeth) protests that there is no other licensed shrink in town. Bruce rolls his eyes. Amy tells DCF to "avail" itself of the "world outside of Marston." She dismisses them, and looks over at her trusty sidekick. Bruce rolls his eyes again, this time so hard that I think they might get stuck at the back of his head.
Maxine returns to the office and tells SBW about getting hit on during lunch. SBW thinks that she actually got "picked up." Maxine comments that she was under the impression that a pick-up was when "you go somewhere with someone to have sex." SBW laughs and tells Maxine that she "did not have sex on [her] lunch hour." Maxine chuckles and tells SBW that she's "famous for that." Someone, make this conversation stop! Thank God, we don't have to hear about any of Maxine's sexcapades of the past, because she finds a mash note from Susie Nixon on her desk. It's the OTC necessary to remove the children from the DelBello residence. Maxine decides to pretend she never got the OTC, and therefore, to keep to her own plan for dealing with the DelBellos. SBW tells Maxine warningly that she's being insubordinate. Maxine counters with the theory that if Susie got a week's paid suspension for stealing, she'll probably be "[made to] eat ice cream" for insubordination. Seriously.
Marston. The Ritalin-Happy Shrink is on the stand. He looks like a Toad in Human Form. He hems and haws about how he doesn't keep statistics of how many kids are on Ritalin, and he doesn't want to guess and he sort of works for the school, and sometimes he sees students, and maybe some of them had ADD and maybe not. Whatever. Anyway, it turns out that 80% of the kids the Toad sees are diagnosed with ADD and all of them are now on Ritalin. Amy asks to get the medical records of all the children under the Toad's care. Toothy Malone from DCF doesn't know how long it will take to get the records. Amy says she needs them by tonight. Period. She sends everyone home, and turns to Bruce, all self-satisfied. He looks at her like she's grown another head, and asks her where she's planning to stay the night. D'oh!
Vincent and The Girlfriend are eating take-out Chinese. As usual, she's being all uptight and totally wrong for Vincent. He asks if she wants some "cheap wine," because every adult on this show has to be shown drinking at some point in each episode. She says no, and is all secretive and weird about it, but then just casually throws in that alcohol doesn't go well with her medication. Vincent is obviously surprised, but tries to lighten the mood by cracking a small joke -- which was not even at The Girlfriend's expense (I would have said something along the lines of: "I think they ought to up the dosage, beeyotch, because you are still wack," but I'm not trying to get in her pants, and, also, I loathe her). She tells him all uptightly that he isn't funny, and he apologizes and starts kissing her neck. Man, that is just wrong! She doesn't respond and tells Vincent that she can't get over the attack; she's crying and having nightmares and the drugs haven't kicked in yet. Dude, you're a barrel of laughs. I am quite sure that getting attacked is horrible, and that it's totally appropriate for The Girlfriend to be receiving psychiatric care and medication. More power to her. I would also like to point out, however, the Vincent was shot in the same incident. It wasn't all about you, Miss Thang. The Girlfriend tells Vincent that she thinks she'll feel better once the trial is over and the Creep has been convicted. Vincent doesn't look at her and tells her that maybe they shouldn't focus so much on the trial. The Girlfriend reflects that it's weird, how The Creep brought them together, and "yet, [she's] hoping for the death penalty." Vincent looks at her like she's crazy. "That's a story for the grandkids!" The Girlfriend concludes, cheerfully, digging into her Kung Pao. Vincent doesn't look at her. Um, that's a pretty gory tale, there, Missy.