Episode Report Card Niki: B+ | Grade It Now! YOU GRADE IT It's The End Of The World As We Know It...
By Niki | Season 2 | Episode 19 | Aired on 04.10.2001
When we return, Rick and Lily are in his bedroom, but the only action here is Rick wearing his legs down to stumps as he confers with someone on his cell phone. It's his lawyer, who can't represent him, because this is a criminal matter. Rick tells Lily this after he hangs up, and she says that she still can't understand why they'd want to investigate him. Maybe they just don't know how many remarkable qualities he has. Rick flops back on the bed, and snarks at her. She reminds him that she's not the enemy, and he mentions that he thinks Karen is involved in it. He complains that Karen knew about it and wouldn't tell him. "Well, maybe she wasn't allowed to," Lily says. I rewind to make sure I heard her correctly. Yep, she really did say something sensible and unselfish. Rick pops up and grabs for his cell phone. He slaps his thigh repeatedly as he leaves another message for Miles. Lily grabs his hand to stop the self-abuse, and holds it in her lap. She starts to say something as he hangs up, but he stands up, sighing loudly, and basically shuts her out. He paces around, and she begs him to come and sit next to her again. She rests her chin on his shoulder and assures him that everything will work out: "I know who you are; I know how you conduct yourself." She insists that whatever is happening, it "doesn't concern" him. Rick's heavy sigh says otherwise.
Cut to Rick meeting with two attorneys -- Stephanie and James -- to go over his case. James specializes in "corporate crime." He assures Rick that he knows what Rick is going through, and promises they'll help him get through it. They follow Stephanie to the conference room, where Rick tries to fill them in. He lets them know that he basically has no idea what's happening or what he can expect; he doesn't even know what a grand jury is. Stephanie laughs pleasantly and walks him through it, explaining that a grand jury is a group of people who are impaneled to "investigate rather than judge." It's "a fishing expedition with a really wide net." Rick asks what they'd be fishing for. Stephanie asks him what he's seen -- anything out of the ordinary in Atlantor's practices? She reels off a list of naughties, including extortion, kickbacks, and safety violations. She then assures Rick that everything he tells them will be confidential, and that his best bet is to tell them everything, and they'll decide what to do with it. He asks whether they'll be with him for the grand jury, and is dismayed to hear that they're not allowed. Stephanie says it's "kind of un-American, really: their proceedings are held in secret; you do not have the right to counsel, even though what you say may be held against you later if you're indicted." James asks what they should know. Rick goes off on some tangent to justify his actions (or lack thereof) in working on the Atlantor project. He tells them that "in the real world -- and certainly in the construction business -- there's a difference between what's legal and what's ethical." I wonder whether Tony Soprano would say the same thing? James looks a little snide and asks whether Rick wants to explain. Rick is adamant, and earnestly widens his mascara-ed lashes as he insists that he never has and never would do anything to jeopardize another person, and that he'd never "line [his] pockets." He says he'd never let anyone around him do it, either. I smell a "but." And there it is: he claims that "there are times in business when you cannot move forward unless you play by somebody else's rules." He admits that he may have "look[ed] the other way" when safety permits arrived much faster than they should have; when their project took precedence over others for concrete trucks; and when the union bent its own rule on the number of mechanics the project had to employ. He claims that every other architect does things the same way, and wonders why he should be the one who gets blamed for it. When he's finished, Stephanie says that all they can do is prepare him for the grand jury; they have no idea whether he'll be indicted or not. Rick asks whether he should admit everything if he's asked. James points to Clinton as a shining example of what perjury can lead to. He says that "the dumbest thing [Rick] can do is lie to a grand jury." Rick sighs heavily, like now he's really screwed.
Cut to Karen in her office as the phone rings. Karen answers and says, "Now?" She says to "send him in," and glances toward the door. She turns a photo (I think it's Jessie) and adjusts her hair in the reflection of its glass. The receptionist shows in Dumanjiak, who says that he was literally in the neighborhood because he had to pick up basketball uniforms. Karen asks if it's for his son. He's taken aback at the idea of actually reproducing, and tells her he's "not of the parental persuasion." Dude, I feel you. He says he just coaches at "Saint Cecilia's." Karen proclaims that "very good." He blathers for a minute about the team's record, before changing the subject to why he's there. He says that he was hoping they could continue their conversation. Karen takes a deep, cautious breath. She says that she's willing to continue hearing his side of things, and then she'll decide "if [she's] ready to respond." Man, I'd hate to play poker with Karen. Dumanjiak takes a seat and starts rhyming off the case Karen had against Atlantor, and asks what she thought her chances were. "Pretty good," she says coolly, leaning back in her chair and evaluating him. He chuckles and makes some attempt to break the ice, but Karen just keeps staring, unsmiling, until he's done; she then asks, point-blank, what he wants. He asks again how good her case was. Karen stops swiveling her chair from side to side and leans forward, engaged now. "It was very good," she says. She outlines the points, and he agrees that the case sounds good. "And yet the judge threw it out on its merits..." he says, planting the seed. He pretends that he doesn't know where he's going as he asks how she felt about it. "Was I sad?" she asks sardonically. He grins and, propping his cheek against his hand, asks whether she was surprised. She says she doesn't understand where he's going with this. She wonders whether he's implying that she somehow overlooked something -- dropped the ball. He's staring at her, still with his cheek on his hand, and looks like a moony fourteen-year-old as he says, "I can't imagine someone of your...ability could have missed much of anything." He gives her a coy smile. I can't figure this guy out: is he genuinely hitting on her, or does he think this little suave-ass routine is going to make her all dizzy and silly so that she'll reveal her secrets? Karen starts to ask what the point of his questions are, when she trails off, realizing what he's suggesting. As it sinks in, her brow furrows, and she pops out of her chair, saying, "Oh my god! They bought the judge!" He pretends to be shocked at her suggestion that a public official would accept a bribe, and that a huge corporation would offer one to protect its interests. Karen starts pacing behind her desk, while he leans back in his chair, smiling and enjoying the show. After a few seconds, Karen blurts, "My ex-husband would never agree to any of this!" You know, maybe I would play poker with Karen after all. "Ahhh," Dumanjiak says slyly, "the lady doth protest too much. I haven't mentioned your ex-husband." Karen doesn't share his humor, and leans over the desk, unsmiling and eyes blazing, to ask if he's saying that he'll go after Rick if she doesn't co-operate. Dumanjiak backs off in a hurry, saying that this was just a friendly visit, and that he never made any threats. He reminds her that he's just there to seek her help. Karen relents and sits down, asking what, exactly, he wants. He rhymes off a whole list of questions and asks how good her records are. She says that her records are very good, and he smiles as he glances around, saying it looks like she never throws anything away. She admits that she's "been called a packrat on occasion." "By your ex-husband?" he asks, as if it's any of his damn business. Karen answers, though: "No, that would've been the pot calling the kettle black." She looks wistful, and he watches her, softly musing, "You still like him." This gives Karen a jolt, and she snaps, "Excuse me?" He acts surprised to have said it out loud and apologizes. Dude, you blew it. He asks if he can see her records, and she pointedly moves a huge expandable file off her desk and tells him that he'll see everything she deems "appropriate" for him. He reminds her that if he takes the "bad guys" down, their project goes down with them. Karen just looks at him coldly and says she understands. He realizes he's overstepped and utters a lame, "Cool. Cool," and tries to get things back on a friendly footing. He stands and thanks her, assuring her that "it's a good thing [she's] just done." She accepts his handshake, and they hold it just a little too long. Something in Karen slips for a second, but she catches herself and briskly says that she hopes so. He smiles and nods and fumbles his way out of her office.
"And you called him at home," Rick says into his office phone, as the camera pans over a clump of his associates, eavesdropping. He nags at the person on the line, because "he" hasn't called Rick back yet. One of the associates -- the one who'd like to believe she's Margaret Cho -- sidles into his office and perches on the edge of his desk, asking who h