Previously, on The Practice: Ellenor has oodles of trouble with her unborn baby -- an infection of the amniotic fluid, appendicitis, strange pains, and eclampsia. Kate Littlefield hires Bobby and his merry band of lawyers to defend her husband, who has been charged with the murder of her daughter. Mr. "Lolita" Littlefield claims he and his stepdaughter Fiona had a predicable "father/daughter" relationship. Only they were sleeping together. Bobby accuses Kate of murdering her own daughter. Jimmy accuses Raymond's other mistress of murdering Kate's daughter. Then, Jenny, the other sister, defends her mother from the accusations of murdering Fiona. Finally, the DA's office plays its trump card: they found a trace of Raymond's semen on the body. Bobby screams at Littlefield. He clings to his innocence.
The Holding Cell Of Imminent Pain. Bobby enters the cell with a purposeful stride and a nasty look on his face. He slams his body down on an unsuspecting chair. Jimmy waddles in behind his leader; he's holding a red folder that he promptly hands off to Rod like it's a baton in the Totally Useless Legal Olympics. Bobby pushes the folder toward Raymond, who stares blankly ahead: "Our own DNA tests came back. It's your semen." Raymond takes a deep breath and states that the tests have to be wrong: "Is there any margin for error here?" Nope. The odds are seventeen million to one. Bobby snarks, "Going into a murder trial. Bad odds." Jimmy shifts his weight but doesn't sit down. Raymond emphasizes the fact that he hadn't slept with his stepdaughter for at least a week. How long does semen last? Is Raymond really this dumb? He claims his "troubled" daughter was on the swim team, in chlorine all the time, how could semen last through all those chemicals? Bobby repeats, "You hadn't slept with her for more than a week?" No. "And she'd been swimming all week?" Yes. The Emperor pauses for a moment to rub the creases on his brow. The defendant wants to know if the police planted the semen. Because the police not only store semen of many different varieties in their Semen Vaults, but they know exactly how/when/where a murder's going to be committed so they can plant the demon seeds on the unsuspecting victim. The police did all that work just to frame Raymond. Bobby doesn't buy the desperate measures. The Lump pipes up, "Let's assume for a second that it could have been planted." Yes. He is seriously talking about someone planting SEMEN. And he's not referring to the movie version of Scott Turow's Presumed Innocent. Oh wait, DEK's just ripping the idea off of Scott Turow. Right. The whole "use your imagination" part of scriptwriting flies out the window the minute DEK sits down with pen in hand: "Contrived. Contrived. Contrived." That's what runs through his head. Any. Way. Jimmy wants to know who had access. That's right. They are actually entertaining the idea that someone might have planted semen on the body. The Lump takes a seat in front of Raymond and carries on with his train of thought: "Prior to the death of Fiona. When was the last time you had sex with your wife?" Raymond rolls his tongue around in his mouth. He's thinking. A day. Maybe two, or even three at the most. The Framing Symphony in F Minor shoots out from under the stainless-steel table in the holding cell. Bobby pinches his cheeks with his teeth: "Is it possible your wife planted your semen on Fiona?" Raymond squints: "Are you asking me if it's possible Kate killed Fiona? Her own daughter?" That's exactly what he's asking. Whomp. Whomp.
Having to wear pink and only pink for the rest of my life would be less painful then enduring these credits. And I look terrible in pink.
The Holding Cell Of Hell. All three men are standing now. In fact, all three men are posturing. Asserting their flailing sense of masculinity during difficult times. Raymond can't believe the Dynamic Duo of Defense wants to accuse Kate of the murder in open court. Bobby waves his hands around like one is his superhero's cape and the other a weathervane: "We're desperate. The prosecution is so confident they're not even offering murder two. They're not even charging it." They know they've got Raymond by the, ahem, balls. Bobby insists they need a gimmick to manufacture reasonable doubt. Only he doesn't use the word "gimmick." He uses the word "strategy," but he really means "gimmick." Why would Kate murder her own daughter, frame her husband, and then stand by his side during the proceedings? Bobby's hands fly out like yellow highway lines: "She could just be playing her part so as not to draw suspicion to herself." Jimmy: "Or she could be setting herself up as a witness for the defense, only to bury you once she gets up there." Raymond thinks that's pretty conniving. Ragdoll thinks that's pretty contriving. The hands motor around like video speed racers: "If she killed her own daughter, she's capable of anything." Raymond actually looks like he's convinced. At this instant, he believes that his wife slept with him, stored his semen somewhere handy, waited for the right moment, bashed her own daughter over the head with a golf club, planted the semen, and then maintained her calm while standing by his side throughout the ordeal of a trial. Bobby's powers of persuasion are amazing. The Emperor lays out the Plan B scenario for Raymond's benefit. What if he's wrong? Rod thinks they still may cast the suspicion they need and make way for the reasonable doubt necessary for an acquittal. Then Jimmy tells Raymond that he can't let his wife know they're planning on "ambushing" her on the stand. It has to be a "surprise attack." After a deep breath, Littlefield lies down on the table and squeaks like a chicken. No, really. Okay, he just sighs and tells Bobby there's a hole in his theory: Kate won't even talk to him now that she's found out he was sleeping with her sixteen-year-old. The Emperor, convinced of his own superpowerdom, says he'll get her to the stand. And then, pow! Plan B, baby.
The Firm Of Litigation Pain. Rebecca thinks Kate's "pretend" motive is too tall a tale to tell. Jimmy believes they can sell the "possibility" to a jury. Rebecca disputes his logic. Eugene thinks Kate is a client. Bobby speaks to this point; he consulted outside ethics counsel for the specific purpose of determining whether or not Kate is a client, and she's not. Eugene wants to know if putting their "reputation" on the line for a statutory rapist is really such a good idea. The Emperor takes offense. He thinks their reputation is "that [they'll] do anything in the bounds of the law to win." They bicker about making the rent. Rebecca thinks that, this time, Plan B is particularly despicable. The Lump takes this one: Kate had motive, opportunity, and she could be the killer. Except she's not, but whatever -- they don't care who actually committed the crime on this show as long as it's dramatic. Bobby's fingers are grabbing invisible flies in the air as he orders Rebecca to talk to Jenny, the other stepdaughter; he's convinced she knows something that she's not telling. Rebecca rolls her eyes as Rod reminds her that she can't tip off the whole Plan B aspect of their defense. Roll those eyes for me, Rebecca; roll them for me.