Breakfast hour at the Ranch. Flapjacks are sizzling on the griddle, the coffee percolates on the cast iron stove. The cattle lo outside the isinglass window. Or, Lauren eats cold cereal, alone, at the counter. Whichever you prefer. I have to warn you, I'm in a prevaricating mood. I may just start making shit up. Amy comes bounding down the stairs, all decked out in a Gucci Pucci Firorucci-eqsue mod pink and yellow and orange swirly blouse and bright pink skirt. It's very Palm Beach, very now, very "Ow! My eyes!" Amy prods Lauren (not literally, unfortunately) to finish her breakfast so that they can get off to school on time. Lauren grumbles, as Maxine "Mother Superior" Gray sails like a steam ship into the kitchen; majestic in form, and full of hot air. She and Amy, after some commentary regarding the appropriateness of Amy's ensemble, attempt to find time in their busy busybody's schedules to mother-daughter bond. Amy whines that since Maxine is so busy getting it on with her creepy millionaire and she herself is so busy "teaching at Yale" and dealing with Her Mini Brattiness, Lauren, it just feels like they're merely "sharing space." Maxine muses that perhaps that's a good thing, as it may keep them from "having words." Amy makes some noise about not loving Maxine any less just because she's busy and finally breaks out the fishcakes and confesses that she hasn't had a good chance to really talk about Greta's death, yet, and she needs to. Enjoy that teensy mention of Greta, kids, because after the jingly jangly theme song, Greta magically becomes a distant and not so dear memory, never to be mentioned again. Amy and Maxine make plans to have lunch that day. Amy, seemingly in spite of herself, goes upstairs to change. Maxine chuckles to herself over the breakfast dishes. Because she has won. Again.
Jingle Jangle. Farewell Greta, we hardly knew ye.
Halls of Justice. Preppy letterman jacket-wearing kid accused of manslaughter. Defense wants to dismiss charges, claiming the motive is weak, the evidence is shoddy and the eyewitness suspect. Amy disagrees and gets all ready to hold the case over to trial, when Letterman Jacket gives his lawyer a shifty little glance. Defense asks to recess in order to discuss something with his client. Amy gives them the thumbs up. Metaphorically speaking. Bruce is back at his tiny desk and, I suspect, to his dour and humorless ways. Laughing, smiling Bruce, we hardly knew ye.
At the Rancherito, Vincent "Van Gogh Away, Stupid Girlfriend!" Gray swings open his front door to reveal a total mess; sofa pushed to the side, books piled on and around it, the TV on top of a table on top of the counter in the kitchen. He and Donna have adopted my decorating scheme, I see. In the midst of the carpet, Donna is dancing with a steam cleaner, wearing boxers. And a tank top. And a face mask. And protective eye wear. And worst of all, long, black tube socks. She gasps when she sees Vincent, and modestly tries to cover her naughty bits with her hands. She thought Vincent had left for work. Vincent, who is all sweaty and wearing only a pair of boxer briefs (hee, that was the prevarication again. He's sweaty, but fully clothed), corrects her, saying that he went for a run. He wonders what the hell she's doing. Donna shrugs her way into a sweatshirt and explains that she was "cleaning the carpet. Also, sanitizing, deodorizing, scotch-guarding the sofa, washing the walls." Wow, I wish Donna was my roommate. She tells Vincent that she's taking a personal day from work because "Judge Gray demands total focus and concentration in her courtroom." Vincent looks like he's wondering where he put the number for the men in the white coats. Donna continues that she can't give that kind of total focus and concentration because she's "too nervous" and she has to keep busy. She pulls back on the face mask and protective eye gear and does some tai chi before revving up the ol' steam cleaner again (I'm not kidding about the tai chi. There was tai chi involved).
Vincent starts clambering over the sofa to get to the rest of his apartment, but his writerly curiosity gets the better of him and he inquires after the cause of Donna's nerves. Donna squeaks that Oscar's attorneys are trying to get Oscar's murder conviction overturned because they think one of the prosecution witnesses "lied under oath" (I wonder if it was the Girlfriend. She does that!). Donna squawks that Oscar could get out of The Big House at any time. Vincent's clearly thought-out and articulate response to this possibly life-altering news is "wow."
Over at Embezzler Central (AKA DCF)...you know, this is such a boring subplot. I can barely bring myself to type the words. It's not even worth it. season, can Maxine quit DCF and join a super-secret squad of crime-fighting senior citizens? Because this child welfare thing is getting so old. Anyway, there's a new supervisor in town, a boring tight ass named Mr. Potter, and if only this was Joey Potter's drug dealing Dad, and one of Maxine's assignments was to drive to Capeside and investigate the custody arrangements in that neck of the words, then, maybe then, I would have something to say about Mr. Potter. But I don't. He's blandly good-looking, and he uses lots of statistics and, gasp, e-mail, and he's like a cross between Wesley on Angel and...some other boring guy, and I don't care. He won't last long with Maxine. She eats supervisors for lunch. Supervisors and cake.
Halls of Justice. Amy and Bruce have entered a charity dance competition and are practicing the Lambada in her office. It's steamy! Oh, wait, that's just Amy's little daydream. Letterman Jacket's lawyer has produced a witness who can provide his client with an alibi for the time of the murder. He didn't want to bring it up before now, because the witness is Letterman Jacket's drug dealer. And, see, that looks bad. But not as bad as those orange jumpsuits the state prison doles out. Amy grants permission for the Defense to depose the witness, and asks that he be present the time they convene. She returns to The Forbidden Dance.
>I barely even hear what Maxine and Mr. Potter say to each other. It's like they're both teachers from Charlie Brown. All I hear is "wah wah, wah wah wah wah." Potter asks if Maxine remembers a "Joseph Dutton." She reminisces that "he offered [her] a joint once. He was worried that [she] was stressed...he was seven." Oh, what a little sweetheart! Wah wah wah, Dutton's heading into surgery and has named Maxine as his of kin wah wah wah Snoopycakes. She scampers down to the hospital to see if he has any more weed.
Amy is interrupted in the midst of some other boring case and told that Letterman Jacket's alibi has been taken to the hospital, that "he's dying." Do you think it could be...? Nah, that would be such a crazy coincidence!
Okey-day, I just took a quick break to watch the end of Star Wars on channel five. If there is a woman of my generation who was not, at some point in her youth, madly in love with Harrison Ford as Han Solo, I, for one, would be very surprised. He, Tom Cruise in Top Gun and, OK, I admit it freely, Michael J. Fox as both Alex P. Keaton and Marty McFly comprised the ultimate hottie triumvirate of my youth, circa 1985-1988.
Oh God, here we go again. Vincent slouches in his chair at his very messy desk in the newsroom. He's doing a phone interview on "waste management." I wonder if he's talking to Tony Soprano. Donna scampers into the frame and cuddles right up to his ear before she realizes that he's on the phone. As she waits for Vincent to wrap up his riveting chat with Hollywood's Hottest Godfather, another journalist, whom she claims to recognize, waylays her. He explains that she recognizes him because he's Leonardo di Caprio. He so is not, although I suspect you didn't need me to tell you that. I mean, Leo's career has kind of taken a dive of late, but he's not yet reduced to guest shots on CBS dramas. Donna plays along for a bit (and she's lost the tube sock get-up, thank God), but sees his picture in a copy of the newspaper on Vincent's desk, and identifies Leonardo di NOTrio as "Lyle Cooper," an award-winning columnist. She plops down on Lyle's desktop and cozies up to him. Flirt, flirt, flirt, attraction, attraction, attraction. There's this crazy Love Story-esque piano music tinkling in the background as Donna informs Lyle that she and Vince are "very, very platonic." Lyle and Donna gaze longingly into each other's eyes. The piano gets louder. Have we fallen into an episode of All My Children? And, if so, where's that kicky dame, Erika Kane? Suddenly Donna says, robotically, that "this. Is. Wrong. I. Need. To. Step. Outside." She runs past Vincent, who is frantically paging through a legal pad, and out the door. Lyle "I Love it!" Cooper smiles, self-satisfied and a little intrigued. Who was that winningly quirky gal, he wonders? And how can she live everyday with that rumpled charmer, Vincent Gray, without falling deeply in love with his self-deprecating charm and rakish, sideways grin?
I wonder what's on the Discovery channel right now?
Oh. My. God. Letterman Jacket's alibi-providing witness is none other than Joseph Dutton. What are the odds, I ask you? Defense informs Amy that the witness fell down a fire escape as he attempted to evade police and defense's investigators. Defense exposits that Dutton's condition is way serious; his heart stopped and he would have died if the police officers present hadn't performed CPR. Defense wants to videotape Dutton's testimony at the hospital as soon as the kid gets out of surgery. Amy tells Defense not to jump the gun, because they don't want to compromise the kid's recovery. She leans against her desk and suggests they see how the surgery goes. Defense and DA toddle out of chambers, and Bruce gets his one line of the episode: "It's your mother," he says, and hand the phone to Amy. Neither Amy nor Maxine can make lunch. They make an appointment to meet for a midnight ice cream snack, and chuckle as they hang up their respective telephones, never guessing that in a few short minutes, they'll find themselves on opposite sides of the law! Sorta.
Maxine scampers from the phone in the hallway of the hospital to meet Joseph's doctor, Dr. Baker. Hee hee, I have no idea if that was inside joke, but I thought it was funny. See, Dr. Baker is played by Broadway actor (and, sadly, also the man behind the voice of Howard in Howard the Duck) Chip Zien, who starred in the Sondheim musical Into the Woods. His part? The Baker. And now that I've revealed what a complete dork I am, I'm going to complete my dorkification by telling y'all that about seven years ago, the musical Falsettos was playing in Los Angeles. I, at the same time, was performing in a college production of Into the Woods. Zien, at the time, was with the touring company for Falsettos. So a bunch of my equally dorky friends and I went to a performance (which was fantastic) and waited backstage to meet him. He was astoundingly nice. He talked to all of us for about 20 minutes, and introduced us to everyone else in the cast, autographed all our programs, and basically was a complete and total pleasure. So, I'm glad Chip is paying the rent. He tells Maxine that Joe the Witness survived the surgery, but his heart stopped on the table, which is a very bad sign for a person of his age and apparent good health. Chip is going to run some tests. Maxine is in the midst of giving her permission to stick the kid full of needles when a plainclothes police officer arrives to ask Joe the Witness "some questions." In light of the fact that the officer doesn't have a court order or a summons (d'oh!), Maxine demands that the officer leave Joseph alone. She tells him to leave. Chip gives him a "you heard the lady" look and they both watch as the police officer leaves empty-handed. As soon as he's gone, they chest-bump in celebration of their victory over The Man. See, I'm lying again.
Defense runs right to Amy, complaining that his men haven't been able to get a statement out of Joe the Witness, and he's worried that the kid is going to buy the farm before he can extricate Letterman Jacket from this little mess he's gotten himself into. Defense begs Amy to allow them to videotape Witness Joe's statement. She wonders why they couldn't just talk to him when he got out of surgery to begin with. Defense tells her that they couldn't get by a "very obstinate social worker." Amy, who's struggling to open a candy wrapper, can't understand why a social worker was involved at all. Why doncha call your mom and ask her, Amy? Oh, forget it, you'll be seeing her soon enough, anyway.
Donna, still at the newspaper office, is sitting, dazed, on a bench outside the newsroom. Vincent comes loping towards her, looking like a kid at a junior high school dance in his untucked dress shirt and tie. He asks why she wanted to see him in the first place and she kinds of tosses a sheaf of paint chips at him. She explains that while she was cleaning the walls in the apartment, um, some of the paint came off along with the dirt. Vincent, the most good-natured man in the universe, sits down to her to pick a new color. Donna, still talking robotically, mentions that she met Lyle Cooper. "He's very charismatic," she moans. Vincent grunts in disbelief. "And funny," Donna continues. Vincent looks up from the paint chips. "Lyle COOPER?" he barks. "Did he say something to you?" Vincent's acting like he's ready to go inside and kick Cooper's ass if need be. I think he feels a little protective of Donna. It's cute. Anyhoo, Donna explains that she had to leave the room because her flesh is weak. She grabs Vincent's arm and confesses that she has "harboring impure thoughts." Vincent throws her arm off and grimaces, and tells her that he doesn't need to know this. Word, Vince. None of us do.
Donna begs him not to leave, because she needs to confess. "To me?" Vincent asks. Well, the protective thing is over and he's back to wondering about the number of the men in the white coats again, methinks. Donna explains that she needs to confess to Oscar, but she begs Vincent to go with her. Vincent really, really, really does not want to go with Donna to the prison to tell her incarcerated spouse that her flesh is weak. He tries to race back into the newsroom, but Donna grabs his tie and pulls him back toward her, protesting that it's a very short trip. Vincent asks why Oscar needs to know anything, seeing as, you know, nothing happened. Donna squeals that they "took vows!" And that marriage is based on communication, which means "no secrets." Whatever. Vincent advises her to "go home. What Oscar doesn't know, can't hurt him." He gives Donna back the paint chips. She mournfully tells him that she picked up the floppy disks he wanted, and that when she's done painting, she's going to reorganize his computer files. At this, Vincent dashes out of the newsroom and chases after Donna, telling her to stay away from his computer. Hmmm, I think that was our little Donna's way of getting Vincent to come with her to the prison. Because it's not okay to think some random stranger is hot, but it is okay to blackmail your roommate.
At the hospital, Chip tells Maxine that Joe the Witness has "cardio myopathy," which is a disease of the heart muscles. In layman's terms, he needs a new heart. Pronto. Like within the few hours. Chip tells Maxine to pray for a donor, and that he hasn't told Joseph anything. He informs Maxine that, because she's Joseph's guardian, he'll only know as much as she wants him to know. Maxine borrows Vincent's look of Great Pensiveness.
Halls of Justice. Amy asks Letterman Jacket if he understands the sitch with Joe the Witness. She wants him to swear the Joe can confirm his alibi, which he does. Amy tells the court that while generally she wouldn't want to jeopardize Joe's recovery, in this case his statement is needed to clear Letterman Jacket's name, and they need to get that statement as soon as possible. Because they cannot bring Joseph to court, they all pile in the Justice Bus to bring the court to Joseph.
Maxine sits to Joe the Witness's hospital bed. He's all tubed-up, but awake. Maxine lies to him and says that all she knows about his condition is that more tests are needed. She tells him to sleep, and that she'll be right outside. As she's leaving, Joe calls her back to tell her that he'd like to go to rehab and "get straight" when he gets out of the hospital. Maxine pronounces that an excellent idea. Poor Joseph. Maxine beats a hasty exit and leans against the wall outside Joe's room. She does the pensive thing again.
Meanwhile, Amy and her Justice Posse have arrived at the hospital, where they are greeted by the plainclothesman that Maxine booted from the premises. He leads them towards Joseph's room, explaining that they still have "a bit of a situation" with the social worker. Amy gets bitchy and says that she'll explain the situation to the troublesome woman, and that, because Amy is "the judge," the social worker will "have to listen." As Amy stalks into the ICU, she demands to know the whereabouts of "the obstinate social worker I've heard so much about." From behind Amy's back, Maxine pipes up, "I guess that would be me." Cue dramatic music of familial tension, mixed with wacky jangling of semi-humorous coninkidinks.
Why isn't this episode over yet?
Hey, I just noticed that there aren't any blipverts in this episode yet. I wonder why. Maybe they ran out of black and white film. Amy apologizes to Maxine for calling her obstinate, but Maxine agrees that the name fits. They have a wee chuckle over the crazy unlikihood of being assigned to the same case, before Maxine gets down to business and informs Amy that none of them can see Joe the Witness, due to his fragile health. Amy tells Maxine that she'd like to wait for Joseph to feel better, but that they all know that isn't going to happen. So, they have to speak to him. Maxine suggests that Amy recuse herself. She refuses. They argue. It's boring. Amy says she get a subpoena. Maxine says she'll go over Amy's head to have it "quashed." Amy stamps her foot and says they are going to talk to the witness and they're going to do it NOW. Maxine snaps, "Amy, I forbid it!" Amy turns slowly and spits, "It's not Amy, it's Judge Gray." She is sooooo grounded.
Amy and the posse head into Joe's hospital room. She lays down the ground rules, telling all and sundry that they cannot cause the witness any undue stress. I guess due stress is OK. They get to the door of the ICU and are meet by, yes, Maxine, backed by Chip, who I am sure is scared that Maxine will kill and devour him if he doesn't let her run roughshod all over the hospital. The plainclothesman informs Maxine that if she does not let them in, he will have to arrest her. Amy gives her mother the stink-eye, and asks quietly that she not "make [Amy] put [Maxine] in jail." Maxine is still smarting from the "Judge Gray" comment, so she snarks at the top of her lungs that Amy has "made it very clear that [Maxine] can't make her do anything." The Posse rolls its collective eyes. The plainclothesman puts Maxine in handcuffs and leads her away. Amy tries hard to think of a way to keep her mother in jail for longer than just the few hours.
At the State Pen, Vincent sits on a bench in the back of the visiting room, while Donna talks to Oscar on one of the those phone things, where he's behind a glass wall. You've seen Law and Order, you know what I mean. Oscar, for his part, is a very sweet looking man. I bet he didn't kill his own mother. And if he did, well, I bet he's the type who'd help Amy kill her own mother, as long as she asked nicely, and bought him a pizza. Oscar calls Donna "buttercup," and expresses surprise at her visit. She launches into some rigmarole about honesty, but he interrupts to ask her if it's Vincent back there, waiting for her. He's recognized him from the picture on the back of his book. Donna starts to begin her confession again, but Oscar interrupts to comment that Vincent is "smaller than [he] thought." Oscar gives Vincent a jovial wave, and tells Donna that he likes Vincent's work, although he characterizes the subject matter as "a little jejune," which, in Oscar's opinion, Vincent made up for with "strong narratives and energetic prose." Donna wants to know if Oscar would like to talk to Vincent, which he totally would. Vincent seems scared by this entire experience, but he saunters up to the phone and asks Oscar "how's it going?" Oscar stares at him, and then just bursts into tears. This freaks Vincent out, and he bails back to the bench. Oscar tells Donna that his attorneys told him there wasn't enough evidence to support his petition, and that he doesn't think he'll ever get out of jail. He sobs like a little girl. Donna traces with her finger the part of the glass that corresponds with her jailbird husband's face and touches her cheek to the glass. On his bench, Vincent looks sympathetic. Well, who knew? I kinda dig Oscar. When it comes right down to it, of course, how can you dislike a guy named Oscar Pant, murderer or no?
The Justice Posse is questioning Joe the Witness on videotape. He claims he's never seen Letterman Jacket before in his life. Letterman Jacket says he's lying, and yells at him to tell the truth. This prompts a wheezing fit from Witness Joe and a mass exodus by the Justice Posse.
In a break room at the hospital, Defense asserts that Joe is "plainly lying," because he's afraid of incriminating himself. Defense astutely points out that while the Justice Posse knows that Joe is on his last legs, Joe himself may not.
Maxine, miraculously and unexplainably out of jail, tells the Posse that Joe does not, in fact, know the seriousness of his illness, and that she's not going to tell him and that they can't make her. Maxine waxes poetic about the fact that while we all know we're going to die, the blessing in life is not knowing when, because it gives us hope for the future. Dude, now I'm depressed. Maxine staunchly refuses to take Joseph's hope away. Amy snips that hope or no hope, Joe can't find that hope based on lies, and that he certainly can't find hope at someone else's expense. She stands up and stalks out of the makeshift courtroom. Letterman Jacket stares pleadingly at Maxine.
Amy, stamping her way through the hospital, finds herself in front of the maternity ward, right by that wall of windows, where you can stand and look at all the sweet little babies. She bursts into tears. Being a heartless judge is so darned hard on a girl!
Chip is checking on his patient; Joseph is OK, but he needs to eat. Maxine tells him to chow down. Joseph says that Maxine never gives up, and asks, point blank, if he's dying. He tells her angrily, when she tries to dance around the subject, that no one will give him a straight answer, or look right at him. He repeats the question. He asserts that he has a right to know, as, I think, he does. Maxine explains the situation with his heart. She explains that he needs a heart donor, but that it's really touch and go. He gives the It Isn't Fair, I'm Too Young To Die! Speech and starts to sob in Maxine's arms. It's sad. I just wish the writers hadn't made him wail "whhhhhhhhhy?" in the midst of it all.
Vincent and Donna return to the Rancherito. Donna wonders if she's a bad person. Vincent climbs over the pile of junk to make dinner and ends up falling into the fridge. Donna doesn't notice his howls of pain, though, because she's rhapsodizing about how, when she meet Cooper, she found herself imagining what it would be like "to feel his weight pressing on me. To feel his flesh touching mine." Vincent complains because she's unplugged the fridge and everything is ruined. Donna continues her litany of sins. "Somebody kill me," Vincent and I say in unison. Donna flings herself on the floor and moans that she's "evil!" She rolls around, wailing that God is punishing her, and that her evilness is the reason Oscar's petition was denied. Vincent tells her to get ahold of herself, that she's human, not evil. He explains to her that it's normal to be attracted to other people, even when you're in a relationship, that it's "just the way we're wired." He assures her that the important thing is that "you don't act on those feelings." Donna thinks about it for a while, and asks Vincent if he's ever had "those feelings." He laughs and says that of course he has, but that he handled them by "acting on them," which he doesn't advise. He explains that he was in a "lousy relationship, not like the one you have with Oscar." Vincent tells Donna that she and Oscar have a very strong relationship, that they're in love, that he's a little envious of it. Donna's touched and surprised. She muses that "no one's ever envied [her] before, not for anything. It's humbling." Vincent grins sheepishly. Donna thanks him sincerely, and looks at him with an odd glint in her eye. "You're going to hug me now, aren't you?" Vincent asks. She nods. "Please don't," he groans. But she envelops him in a massive embrace. Vincent kind of smiles in spite of himself and pats her on the back.
Oh my God, can we get this over with? Defense is questioning Joe the Witness again. They ask if he's ever met Letterman Jacket before. Of course, Joseph takes this moment to die. How not surprising or creative or fresh. Also stale and overdone is the use of slow motion as Chip and the nurses try to revive the kid, and Maxine and Amy and the rest of the Posse look on. This is not ER, folks. It's not even Qunicy. Joe the Witness dies. I so don't care.
Maxine corners Amy and tells her that they need to talk.
In the Hospital Halls of Makeshift Justice, Maxine tells the Justice Posse that Joseph told her, prior to his death, that he did in fact sell drugs to Letterman Jacket, and that he knew the exact time because Letterman Jacket interrupted a basketball game. A police officer has corroborated Joseph's statement by confirming a report of suspected drug activity at the time and place Joseph named. Amy lets Letterman Jacket go free, and thanks her mother for her help.
Amy and Maxine watch the sheet-covered body of Joseph go down the hall to the morgue together. Cheery!
Back at the Ranch, mother and daughter reconvene for that midnight snack. They don't say much, they just shovel in the ice cream. Hmmmmmm, ice cream.
week, good Lord! Maxine bumps her head and thinks there might be something wrong with her brain. Amy and Michael hook up for one last shag, celebrating the official end of their marriage.