Sick-ass props to Red Snapper, without whom this recap would only have existed at a future time when this show was archived at the Museum of Television and Radio in the year of Not So Fast, Jerry, A.D. Strum strummity strum goes The Acoustic Guitar Of It's-Not-Sex-It's-Lovemaking, as we join Adam Roam "If You Want To, Roam Around The World" and "I'm Not A" Jew-el "But I Play One On TV" Goldman in the throes of whatever kind of sex it is where you lose your virginity by gingerly placing your hand on the back of someone else's neck. A gauzy lens is Vaselined (which, considering the act said lens purports to capture, could probably have been used to better effect, somehow) to such excess that I'll never have chapped lips again just having watched this sequence, and, just beyond, Roam-eo and Jew-liet are entangled in a makeshift fort's worth of satiny, supple sheets. Passion: high. Thread count: higher. Adam has left his cross on in case Jew-liet becomes a vampire, and Jewel has left some rings on because religious iconography is for suckers and Catholics and people from Churchania. The deed having been briefly alluded to in as Red Shoe Diaries a way as possible, (twelve thousand) pillow(s) talk ensues immediately following, Jew-liet lying on her stomach as the sheets are elegantly rumpled and the breeze blows slightly and, I'm sure, the gauzy curtains are blowing ever so slightly in a perfect re-creation of exactly what it would be like to lose one's virginity on the set of the video for "It's All Coming Back to Me." Jew-liet asks of Adam, "Tell me a secret." Adam runs a hand down Jew-liet's face and buys time while considering the options: "I think we should just be friends"? "My father doesn't work for the Streets Department but he also isn't the District Attorney, but a KILLER ROBOT"? "I'm not naturally this hairless, but I mean, really, what man is, am I right"? In Adam's silence, Jew-liet clarifies the question: "Tell me something you've never told anyone else." Oh, I'm sorry. No wonder he's still silent, seeing as her question was, apparently, "Define the word 'secret' no wait I'll do it for you." Evasive still, Adam fixes Jew-liet with his bedroom eyes -- admittedly more situationally appropriate than fixing her with his "Ballroom Eyes" or his "Conservatory Eyes," though either would work in this live-model Clue house. Anyway, Adam's response: "I love you." Thanks, Adam. We love you too. We look forward to seeing you in a performance venue that actually showcases your talent. Such as, say, actual porn. Jew-liet has the comeback at the ready: she loves him more. No but he loves HER more. No but she loves HIM more. No, but...shut up shut up just SHUT UP! Adam wonders aloud, in the most mistaken way possible, if Jew-liet thinks they made a mistake. Her glowing, virgins-are- so-literally-exactly- five-minutes-ago smile falters ever so slightly, and she responds, "No. No, why, do you?" Oh, relax. It's your first time. Everything is supposed to go wrong. Just be glad that your faith in the sanctity of true love is the only thing that got broken. "You're in my house! In my bed!" Jew-liet correctly observes, her panic growing and the ratings shrinking and Leon's getting laaaaaaaaarger. Adam -- all but plugging in a giant neon arrow with glowing words reading "This way to the segue!" with an arrow pointing into the scene -- promises, "Nobody knows I'm here." By the way, for the first time ever, I transferred this entire episode onto my computer and I'm currently recapping this episode at a brand-new Starbucks three blocks from my house. The window on which this soft-core porn was unspooling caught the eye of a middle-aged Italian Catholic woman and totally made her just get up from the table and leave. Guess she didn't see the cross.
Well, when in Roam. Over at District Attorney Roam's house, Papa Roam takes Adam's easy-to-hear cue line of "..." and finishes it off, "...he's at Goldman's." I think Mama Roam might be in the house somewhere also, but they keep that house so dark I haven't seen a thing since we first showed up there last week. He must not have gotten around to screwing in the light bulb that has provided the pointed punch line for so many of that set's snappy pearls of dialogue. Anyway, Roam is in such a tizzy about his son's absence he can think of only one thing to do: he's calling the police. Dude. Chill the hell out. Brush your hair. Have a cup of coif-ee. I thought big bouffants were supposed to make people want to live in retro-era Athens and dance all nights to the B-52s. I guess I was wrong. Continually ill-developed tough-but-fair Mama Roam continues to play the sharply defined character of Her Husband's Opinion But On Opposite Day, demanding with an equal but opposite reaction, "You cannot order them to knock down the Goldmans' front door." Papa argues, "We have to do something." Why? "It's 4 in the morning." Well then, milk a cow or make the donuts or something, because there really is a limited amount of socially acceptable activities for the 4 AM hour, seeing that there is no news yet because everybody is home in their comfy, comfy beds. ["There's a 4 in the morning now?" -- Wing Chun] AU-house, as found as Element #79 on The Periodic Chart Of Rich People. A telephone rings in a dark bedroom moments later because this show has as nuanced an understanding of time elapse as an experimental digital-video Mike Figgis movie. Jew-liet climbs across the vast expanse of the seemingly unscalable Hot Latin Lover Mountain Range (because it was there, is why) of Adam's pecs, grabbing the phone at the same time Larry "AU, Give Me Back My" Goldman picks up the phone on his side table. "It's Tom Roam," the previously-un-first-named Roam tells him. "It's your daaaaaaaaad," Jew-liet whispers from the foothills of Big Rock Hottie Mountain. Adam leaps out of bed because it logically advances the plot on the planet where his father can see him over the phone, and we cut back into Goldman's bedroom, where he reacts with disgust. We're with you, sister. Meanwhile, back at the International House Of Utilities Not Included, Roam never got the memo that pre-dawn is more of a business casual, as he sits ramrod straight in his button-down shirt and explains, "I'm not quite sure how to put this, but my son hasn't come home tonight. Is he, by any chance, with your daughter?" Goldman takes a swipe, asking Roam how he plans to get reelected if he can't control his own kids and ignoring, as I wish we all could, a presidential administration that answers those questions on Page Six practically every day. While her husband basks in the intense wattage of his own self-righteousness, Mama Roam stands in dark shadows, thinking that there must be someone inside the municipal building she and her husband work in who could figure out a way to get their lights turned back on. They could always mortgage some of their other property in a bartering deal for Electric Company, but that would fairly well give their opponents free rein to develop everything between jail and Free Parking. Goldman hangs up on Roam, and the short man exclaims, "Son of a bitch," before standing up all in a huff and telling his wife he's going to Goldman's house. She offers to come with, but he tells her to hang back in case Adam calls. He's out the door while she's helpless and left behind, hoping that her husband can at least avoid landing on Park Place on her way over and putting even more money into the pockets of the rich and powerful he seems to hate so much.
Goldman and Another Character Best Described Just As Someone's Wife lie in the dark, Ron explaining that crazy Roam crazily thought his crazy son was in their house. Crazy! Or...IS IT? Inside Jew-liet's bedroom, Adam runs around madly, looking for his pants and other discarded items of non-coital importance. Jew-liet repeatedly yell-whispers for him to hurry, which, I'm just saying, doesn't make that much sense. Adam would know that his father would be looking for him, and we all know that wherever they were, they'd be together. The phone call doesn't up the dramatic ante in any way but a now-we-get-to- watch-him-run-around- in-his-skivvies kind of way. So, really, why am I complaining? Goldman -- already falling back into that nonsensical no-don't-be-silly- I'm-totally-awake sleep borderland -- tells Wife Goldman that Jew-liet has "more sense" than to sneak someone into her bedroom. Skin's second episode: filmed entirely in crystal clear IronyCam! Wife Goldman alludes to activities she partook in "when we were her age," because not only is Larry Goldman a dedicated family man but apparently he also married his high-school sweetheart because he's a virtuous and godlike porn magnate with a heart of his-last-name and WE GET IT. Wife Goldman adds that Jew-liet is sixteen years old and "thinks she's in love." This gets Goldman out of bed, but he expresses the belief, "I think Roam is obsessed with everybody's sex life because he doesn't have one himself." Or because he don't dig on no kiddie porn. To each his own, PornDaddy. Adam can't find his other shoe. PornDaddy walks down the hall to Jew-liet's room. Adam still can't find his other shoe. Jew-liet finds that strangely hilarious. Adam and Jew-liet hear a rustling noise down the hall of PornDaddy approaching. Adam makes for under the bed and Jew-liet hastily turns off the light. I'm just saying that if PornDaddy is close enough to the door that they can hear him coming, then PornDaddy is close enough to the door to see a light go off in the room. But no matter: PornDaddy is none the wiser, knocking on the door and entering Jew-liet's room. She feigns to have been woken up, and PornDaddy isn't confused, because people go to sleep wearing full makeup on the Fox Network all the time. He vamps his way into the closet, telling her that it's probably bigger than the apartment he grew up in. Muh-huh. And that's the way it was and we liked it. He peers in the closet and behind the closet door, Jew-liet finally asking him if he's looking for something. Hey, babe, you've already gotten this far, I wouldn't start taunting him just yet.
Goldman leaves, his fact-finding mission having come up empty. A moment later, covered in dust bunnies and Yaffa Blocks filled with stuffed animals and concert t-shirts from bands Jew-liet saw in junior high (because tell me that's NOT what's under your bed), Adam crawls back out and resumes his search for his missing clothes. Just borrow the Soup Dragons at Nassau Coliseum shirt! No? Doesn't fit? How about Erasure at Jones Beach? Phish at Red Rocks? Billy Joel at...everywhere your parents bought tickets for? I can keep going. But instead, Adam prefers the futile "stumbling around blindly, perhaps as it reminds him of his days growing up in the house where the sun doesn't shine. Goldman tells Wife Goldman that he found Jew-liet "asleep. Alone." He gets to be right and his daughter gets to be an unsoiled vestal princess, all at the same time. His anxiety passive-aggressively handed off to his wife, she proclaims herself "wide awake." Goldman tells her that that's her punishment for not trusting his own daughter. She responds, "I'll show you what you get." Ooooh, she's so coquettish. She must really love money. Adam and Jew-liet part with sweet sorrow, Adam leaping over the balcony and taking off through the front lawn of the house. But lo, all of the sprinklers go off at this exact moment. And with no shoes! And with only his family's wheelbarrow to get him past "Go" and safely back home. Halfway through the episode seems a bit late for the credits to me, but I was only #52 on the Power List, so what the hell do I know? Morning at the International House Of $$$Cakes. Wife Goldman chases Jew-liet down a long spiral staircase, insisting, "Don't be facetious" to a comment we don't get to hear and therefore cannot judge whether it was really facetious or merely bitchy. Jew-liet stays a few paces in front of her mother, insisting that she "went to sleep alone and woke up alone." This defense is interrupted by a younger male voice non-corroborating, "You woke up ugly." Is that actually what he said? And, more importantly, who the hell is that? I think the male heir to the Goldman thrown might have aged five years. And become a completely different person. Sigh. Rich people. Is there anything they can't do? But Wife Goldman -- a smart scarf silk scarf tied around her neck just in case some yachting should spontaneously break out around her -- continues on something about blah blah this conversation isn't over. Jew-liet tries to explain that she's going to be late for school, and just then a new character, "The Spanish Maid," calls over the balcony, "Don't forget your homework." Jew-liet and The Spanish Maid commence a conversation of a few sentences in Spanish, causing Wife Goldman to panic, "What are you saying? What is she saying?" GoldmanSon 2.0 calls over the balcony, "She said it's in the bottom drawer." Wow, it's not even Sabato, and still the house is so Gigante! It looks like Jew-liet and The Spanish Maid are in some kind of cahoots-ish relationship that may or may not figure prominently into this episode at some future point. I sure hope Jew-liet finished her homework assignment of writing "I will not insult the collective intelligence of the audience with such blatant and contrived bouts of foreshadowing" five hundred times. In Spanish ("No insultaré la inteligencia colectiva de las audiencias con tales combates evidentes e ideados del presagio"). Wife Goldman mutters in desperation to Spanish Maid, "I wish you two would speak English." "Si, señora," Spanish Maid hilariously replies. And Jew-liet seems to leave without her homework. And what the hell is her homework doing "in the bottom drawer," anyway?
"He was out looking for you half the night," Mama Roam snipes as she drops her son off at school in the fancy blue family car. I guess she left first this morning so her husband got saddled with taking the thimble to work. Yes, but what about his reelection campaign? "Your father's in the middle of a reelection campaign!" Ah. Adam responds with his usual support for his father's career that he doesn't care about the election, and a tense moment ensues until Mama Roam arranges to pick Adam up after school. He has track after school. So he'll pick her up at 6:30. I'll take the bus! You will NOT take the bus! I'll pay the rent! My hero! Curses! Foiled again! Adam's grounded again, more than he was even already grounded, which is kind of a lot. Adam yells at his mother that he can't promise he's never going to see Jew-liet again, and she yells back, "I want you to think, Adam!" Another moment ticks by as the recappable moments of "moments where there is talking" and "moments where this is talking that hasn't already been talked in the short, short run of this show" hovers just near statistical zero. It's news time on L.A.'s only source of news, 810 AM: Recap Radio. Vincent Quordon (thank you, opening credits, for alerting me as to the spelling of that name and correcting my mistake last week and getting me about a billion points at Scrabble) has been arrested for torching the Midas Touch Strip Club. Roam's office has filed murder and arson charges against Quordon for the murder of Kelly Martinez, the stripper killed in the blaze and named only in her tragic death. Over on 780 AM: Just Like 810 Except Minus Thirty, we learn that Roam thanked Goldman publicly for his help in the sting. I would say that the plot was thickening, but all of this kind of happened last week and I'm left recapping the recap. When somebody finds way to go fish the script for this week's episode out of the bottom drawer, you let me know and I'll be right here. Oooh, news of Quordon's arrest made the front page of The Los Angeles Chronicle! Also known around town as "810 AM For The Deaf." Or "All the news that's fit to be fake news." I'll bet it's also made the above-the-fold front page of such regional powerhouses as The New York Gazette and The Chicago Picayune. The headline of the paper includes the word "arrest," but we cut away from it too fast to read the rest. I'd put in a call to the Chonicle's ombudsman to lodge an official complaint, but this damn "555" number just won't go through. Anyway, Roam enters his office, throws the paper down on his desk, and tells his staff of two, "Great work, everybody." Sydney from Melrose is confused and kind of a step behind, asking, "I thought the target was Larry Goldman." Sydney from Melrose is playing the unenviable role of "TiVo-Less Guy Who Forgot This Show Premiered Last Week," who forces Roam to explain -- again -- "Vincent and Goldman have a criminal history together." Roam's other adviser warns that Goldman is rich and powerful and a bad idea to go after, but Sydney (Cynthia, whatever) counterattacks, doing the hallway walk-and-talk with Roam while arguing that "what hurts you is waffling." Mmmm...waffles. She adds that Roam is finally gaining ground with voters on this whole knotty issue of "jailing the murderers," and that he can't back off now. "I don't intend to," he deadpans as response. He would then take the time to snicker malevolently, I'm sure, but I think the show just got cancelled.
Goldman and his incredibly creepy right-hand man -- Guy Whose Name I Don't Know -- hang in Goldman's office. Goldman looks at some contact sheets I'm guessing are of porny naked ladies, explaining with utmost certainty, "Roam gave me his word if I cooperated he'd back off." Man, with his strategic business skills like that, you'd better believe that selling naked ladies is the only way he's gotten as far as he has. Because, I mean, they kind of sell themselves, y'know? Right-Hand Man worries that Roam is running on a platform of anti-porn and the anti-Goldman-osity that that implies, but Goldman wonders aloud, "If the voters are so against porn, why am I living in a 52,000-square-foot mansion?" Low interest rates, maybe? Why has he never heard of hating the sinner but loving the sin? The sin of porn? Right-Hand Man sighs elaborately, and rightfully so. Listen to him, Larry! After all of his years is the industry, shouldn't Goldman know that, in porn, the one thing you can't forget about is the help of a good right hand? Sorry. Quordon sits in his prison oranges in the company of Roam, Roam's non-Sydney adviser, and Quordon's lawyer, all of them listening to the surveillance tape that got Quordon nailed for the fire at Midas Touch. Isn't this show supposed to be about supple naked teenagers? Why has it gotten so chung-chung on us so quickly? Roam demands to know names and dates of every under-the-table deal Goldman has ever cut, information he'll exchange for Quordon's life. The death penalty for one dead stripper and a torched strip club in the Valley? Please. Residents of Los Angeles County are probably just happy that the place was finally properly fumigated. Quordon's lawyer agrees, thinking that the jury wouldn't go for the death penalty anyway, seeing as "the victim worked in the sex trade." But Non-Sydney adds the human-interest angle, adding that "the victim was twenty years old" and had a six-month-old baby. Quordon does some legitimate ACTING right here, rising from his hopeless, book-em-Dano'ed hunch and yelling, "The victim was a whore!" Whoa! Raw emotion conjured up from the depths of the bottom drawer! ["And, if her baby is only six months old and she was already back at her fighting weight, trim enough to strip? Well, then she's a hero to women everywhere." -- Wing Chun] Roam reminds Quordon that the victim is still dead at his hands and that that's...well, kind of a problem, y'know? "Goldman paid her, you killed her. As far as I'm concerned, you're both guilty." As far as I'm concerned, the victim was a whore! That is fun to say. Roam gives the final ultimatum: "Life or death, take it or leave it." Very well. I choose cake.
Goldman and Right Hand sit in the sunny, airy, Southern Californian offices of someone I'll guess is a private investigator. Goldman explains that his business is "sensitive enough" (ew, not like that) to begin with, without someone actively wanting to destroy it. The investigator tells Goldman that he can "provide insurance," and Good Goldman implores him, "Don't break the law. Don't cross the line. And, whatever you do, make sure this does not tie back to me." Goldman and Right Hand stand up simultaneously, Goldman leaving and Right Hand staying behind to take care of the dirty work. Right Hand suggests to the investigator how unfortunate it would be if someone broke into Roam's office and found out he liked to "surf porn." "Surf porn"? Like Blue Crush? Which, of course I've never seen. What? Stop looking at me like that. Goldman Offices by light of tittie. A voice announces, "Hello, I'm Johnny Wong. This is open call casting. Have your IDs ready and keep your shirts on until I see proof of ages. Thank you." A number of would-be porn stars strut around confidently. Because porn is scrubbed clean and Goldman is a decent man, no one there is coked-out, a victim of physical abuse, or fifteen. Awesome. A somewhat doofy photographer stands in an office into which each woman walks one by one. He tells them to show their two forms of photo ID (not one person shows a passport, so I have to guess that it's license and, what, fake license? ["Gym membership?" -- Wing Chun]), and then take off their clothes. I sure do wish I possessed the sensibility to think nothing more than "This must be the luckiest guy in the world!" But if that were really the first thing I thought, I probably wouldn't even have this job. The nudie montage ends abruptly with the sudden appearance of a young girl (she's a spy or underage or both, and we can see that whether it comes in this episode or three episodes from now so GET ON WITH IT) who identifies herself as "Darlene Smith." The photographer asks to see her "two forms of current legal ID," and she fumbles for two licenses (again, I don't...) that she places to her cornfed and slightly bucktoothed mouth. Photographer Guy (how about these nicknames right here, people?) tells her to take her clothes off. She undoes a skirt and lets it drop to the ground, telling him, "My mother says what you don't see is sexier than what you do see." And you know what's interesting? My mother and I actually have a standing agreement that she'd better not be forthcoming about any of the details of her sexual history unless she's interested in getting an earful about mine. Three cheers for The Cold War of familial sexual politics, but it's worked so far so I'm not going to rock the boat. How about a little cut of that action before the time you say the word "mother" and show us your small, small panties at the same time, okay, Darlene? Photographer Guy tells Darlene Smith that her mother was "wrong." Darlene Smith giggles because that's what fifteen-year-old spies do, people.
Photographer Guy (since he doesn't seem to be going anywhere, let's just call him "Cam," which is, as is my understanding, the nickname for "Camera") walks Darlene Smith to Goldman's office and knocks. Who's there? Extraneous subplot. Extraneous subplot who? Exactly. Cam tells Larry that Darlene "has never done adult before" as she sits down across from Goldman at his desk. He should have a much bigger office. Barely looking up, Goldman asks Darlene how old she is, and she volunteers that she's "nineteen...almost twenty." She's from South Dakota. Only now does Larry look up, launching in, asking how her parents will feel when they see her having sex on film. Darlene responds that her mom works at Wal-Mart, but that she's not narrow-minded. She adds that she wants to "act" (Goldman's word, not mine) in adult films because her boyfriend taped her once during sex and she got really turned on. Yeah, well, once a friend of mine took a picture of me in front of a tiger cage at The Mirage, but it didn't make me want to run off and join the circus. Goldman draws an even worse parallel than that one you just read there, telling her, "Working in adult films is like getting a tattoo." Meh? "It's permanent." Oh. "On tape, on DVD, streaming over the internet. Forever." But Darlene Fake Smith has her answer at the ready, telling him that she wants to do it so she can be "part of forever." Dude, plant a tree in Israel or something. There have to be easier ways. Goldman suggests becoming "a large-animal veterinarian." Huh? A what? Why not just "a veterinarian"? She doesn't understand either, responding, "I thought this was supposed to be an audition." And I thought it was a show about barely legal teens getting it on! We're so past the expectations game at this point, Darlene, wouldn't you say? Cam begins to remove Darlene from the premises, but Darlene breaks free, advancing on Goldman and insisting that she belongs in this business and that she'll do anything to prove it. Anything? "Anything." I think she's getting a bit fresh with Mr. Goldman, wouldn't you say? He stares right at her while telling Cam to give her money for a plane ticket home. She's mad that she doesn't get to be naked on the porn show. Goldman shakes his head, because he is valiant and Good. Man. With the heightened level of "don't worry about me, we'll just sit here in the dark" going on at the Roam house, you'd think that they they were the Jewish ones. Adam sits at a table and jumps when a phone rings. Mama Roam gets to it first, and an "Eric from the track team identifies himself." Oh, Mama Roam. If only you had told us your first name was "Patsy," we could have done away with your overly generalized nickname so very long ago. She hands the phone to Adam as "Eric" hands the phone to Jew-liet, sitting outside at what looks like the pool in the back of Hearst Castle. Rich. Right. Got it. Jew-liet makes "Eric" go away, leaving him with an even smaller part than Brother 1.0. What this woman does to the men in her life, I tell you what. Adam takes the phone under his mother's watchful eye and her insistence that he has "two minutes," and then pretends that he's talking to a dude with no real desire to convince anyone, muttering things like "really" and "great" in response to Jew-liet's emphatic cries of "I love you." Aww, we love you too. She tells Adam that she feels like she should "feel different," but that she doesn't actually feel different. All she knows is that she wants to be with Adam all the time. Adam reminds "Eric" that he's grounded, and she responds with steely conviction that she's going to find a way for them to see each other. Mama Roam looks on, and Adam changes gears to the dude-talking, "Track meet's on Friday, so I'll just see you then." Jew-liet loves Adam and misses him. They hang up, a full minute and three seconds before his mother's time limit. "I wasn't born yesterday," snarks Mama Roam. Well, put those two licenses up to your face and prove it.
"Mr. Roam has been running for office since the day he was born," (sources say: not yesterday), explains Mr. Private Investigator Man. "At first blush, one would be tempted to believe that he is the only politician who did not inhale." Two Clinton references in two weeks? Lay the hell off, Bruckheimer. These words are juxtaposed with shots of Roam sneaking through a dark hotel parking lot looking like he's up to all things super-sneaky. Private Investigator Man hands Goldman a whole mess of information, explaining that Roam has two cell phones and a post office box and numerous hotel room charges. "Methinks I smell an affair," he explains, forcing the one required Shakespearean sentence construction of the week. Roam calls Mama Roam and explains that he has to work late. Roam walks into a hotel room alone. Methinks the biggest dramatic turning point of this show is whether it will be still on after the commercials. Quordon, in his prison oranges, fights with his lawyer, begging, "You've got to make all of this go away." His lawyer explains in no uncertain terms that only 1.21 jigowatts at 88 miles per hour can un-explode the club and that, outside of that unlikely scenario, Quordon's accountability remains pretty high, and that this isn't just going to disappear. Quordon wants to know why Goldman is still alive when Quordon's still in jail, insisting that he'd rather have Goldman dead and risk death himself than give Goldman to the authorities so he can stay alive in jail. And, meanwhile, Roam and his ever-shrinking team of advisers (weren't there, like, eleven people in that room last week?) chew over whether they can get Goldman to take the stand at Quordon's YAAAAAAAAWN. Bo-ring. Roam thinks that if they can get Goldman on the stand, the crozzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz-examination will force him to reveal his sleazy past with Quordon. Sydney gets all hepped up, suggesting that they try to get cameras into the courtroom. Not Sydney worries that this will be seen as "political opportunism," bur Roam insists that putting Quordon and Goldman in jail "isn't politics, it's justice." Roam once again speeches them that he isn't doing this for political gain -- taking a meaningful walk over to where many heavy, law-looking books are lined on mahogany bookshelves -- and mystifyingly says, "You know how millions of parents start their day? They get up, they turn their kids' computer on, and they sit there for twenty minutes deleting porn. Hard-core porn that their kids don't ask to see and their parents do want them to." Wait, what? Does he mean porn that comes in spam? Or that someone else downloaded? Because that actually is quite illegal, and doesn't gel with the response of "Censorship. That's what you're talking about." Roam thinks that the censorship line was crossed when "kiddie porn showed up under the banner of his website." Is the writer of this episode researching these issues on Mosaic? I've never heard a less reasoned argument for prosecution based on internet pornography. Here, let's break it down:
Ergo, the District Attorney's office can feel free to take legal action against any entity engaging in the latter two activities provided it does not seep over into the former. But, as we discovered IN COURT, LAST WEEK, Goldman is not accountable for the illegal pornography that kickstarted a case that got thrown completely out of court, and, unless he's the Porn Fairy, who creeps into children's rooms a night and corrupts their internet cache by altering the website of Bob the Builder so that he's straddling Wendy in the back of the construction yard, Goldman's not responsible for spam, either. Until these issues are parsed with a tiny bit more elegance on this show, the case is quite literally closed. Not Sydney fears, "You start the train down this track, I don't know where you stop it." Sydney argues, "The train stops when we win the election." Roam leaps on her: "No! The train stops when we run out of fuel!" Where the station stop will be: "Death Of Sensical Dialogue Upon Avon." Was this the sample script that was in the copy of Final Draft the writer bought? What must have been a few cut scenes later, Adam is being called out of class and arrives at some kind of administrative office. Spanish Maid from earlier is there to tell him, "Your aunt is sick." She ushers Adam out of the school and tells the nice lady at the front desk that Adam will be gone for the rest of the day. Wow! It sure is a good thing that Jewel's maid is the same exact kind of foreign as Jewel's boyfriend! "Hey, Grandma," Adam yells in broad daylight, where he finds Jew-liet leaning against the hood of her car. Well, I know she's not really in high school, but that's not very nice at all, is it? They kiss madly, as Spanish Maid tells them that if Jew-liet mother finds out they're both dead. She tells Jew-liet to be home by dinner, and to Adam she says, "You be a gentlemen." He promises he will. Spanish Maid takes off. A sail! A sail! And so, Cam (wait...is THAT Johnny Wong? You know what? Never mind. I don't actually care) takes Darlene Fake Smith into Right Hand's office, telling him that he doesn't usually go around Larry, but that this girl has got something "special." Right Hand gives a look and a "Johnny..." (oooooh.): "I'm the CFO. I don't do casting." Right Hand adds that if Larry doesn't want Darlene, his hands are pretty much tied (if only), but a small histrionic attack finds Darlene lamenting her inability to get a job, ending with, "I love Hollywood." Johnny is at the ready with a comebacker to the mound: "This isn't Hollywood, honey. This is Chatsworth." But one great line that six people will get does not make up for the other failing moments of this episode, which so far have been "all." Oh, and apparently her car has broken down, leaving Right Hand to flirt, "You got cables? I'll jump you." And besides being one of the most unintentionally bad lines of television I've seen anywhere this season (but we're already beyond the point where I need to point that out each individual time that happens, right?), this is just another prime example of the way companies fall when the left hand doesn't know just what the right hand is doing.
- Censorship is illegal.
- Spam is illegal.
- Child pornography is illegal.
Park. Outdoors. Broad daylight. Let's hide out here! Adam and Jew-liet hash over their first kiss and other weirdly paced dialogue, while... ...Roam calls Goldman again and tells him he'll have to testify at Quardon's trial. Goldman reminds him that he wore a wire last week, in exchange for which Roam promised him he wouldn't have to testify, but that deal's off because Roam wants him to "do his civic duty" and help him "finish the job." These two future in-laws spend a lot of time chit-chatting the day away, considering how hard they're trying to keep their kids apart. As they hang up the phone and separately engage in the pointer-finger- on-the-upper-lip- thumb-on-the-chin International Sign For Thinking Important Things... ...Right Hand yells at Goldman about a "Scarpelli," and I don't know who that is. Right Hand is freaking out that if a judge examines their books, the court will just keep looking until they find some kind of impropriety. And we just learned that he's the CFO. Who has full control over "the books." And that he's willing to give a fake-legal Midwesterner with no proof of age "a jump." And that he's a bad guy. Who knows, if not how to run a legal enterprise, at least how to bring it down a notch: "Do you remember how it was when we started?" Illegal and filled with money laundering and porn? "Cardboard boxes for desks. Barb and Zelda answering phones." Papier-mâché titties. Lube made of puddle water. Penny shots instead of money shots. Talk about an idealized humble beginning. And talk about a less porny-sounding name than "Zelda." "You had a vision." Oh, no WAY. "And we busted our asses and we made it a reality." No doubt they worked hard, but my guess is they still have the least compromised asses in the building, if you know what I mean and I think you do. Roam walks up to a sleazy-looking motel room and peers around furtively. The sound of a camera shutter doing its camera-shuttering thing ensues, as Roam is caught in three separate photos. Man, that Johnny Wong can be everywhere at once, can't he? Roam? Keep your clothes decisively on. Mr. Private Investigator Man shows Goldman those selfsame photos. We learn that the woman who opens the door is "Kimberly Banks. She's the lead investigator for the Central D.A.'s Office." Right Hand comments, "It's too bad this chick's not a boy." Y'know, I know this show is about dirty, dirty porn and things, but why must everyone be so freakin' yucky all the time? Goldman asks what happens , and Mr. Private Investigator Man responds, "You make adult movies. You tell me what comes ." And what comes is...
Roam-eo and Jew-liet vie for rapidly declining face time. Hiding in plain sight in broad daylight in a public park (good one, folks), Jew-liet breaks up a spirited round of Take Your Daughter To Work Day, telling him, "You don't even care that I've got presents for you." Ooh, presents! First, in an actual, wrapped box...Adam's shoe. But I thought it was gone forever. Clearly a thorough investigation of the contents of the bottom drawer displays that this was not the case. But Jew-liet tells Adam that she found it under her bed. But that's where he was. He was under there for hours. Not. A. Lick. Of. Sense. It's rare a show goes so far out of its way to make sure there are continuity lapses that easily could have been avoided. For the other present, Jew-liet insists that Adam close his eyes, and she runs behind a tree and pulls out a cell phone. A small bag in front of Adam's closed eyes begins to ring, and he takes out a picture phone of some kind with Jew-liet's smiling face beaming back at him. He becomes concerned when she tells him that it's a gift for him, and he tells her he can't accept it. And, fight. Adam's parents say cell phones "are for business, not teenagers." Yeah, that's what my parents said about the Commodore 64, but my ability to override them and play Pogo Joe all day gave me to the cognitive reasoning skills to sit and stare at my computer all day, generating thousands and thousands and thousands of words out of a near-canceled television show that has the same depth of plot as, say, a Commodore 64 game of Pogo Joe. So to them I say, "Load, Shut Up And Deal, 8,1," and accept your gift like a gentleman. But no. Adam doesn't want to "take anything for granted," which Jew-liet infers to mean, "Like I do." Dear Drama Queens: Different side of the tracks. Break up. This will never work. Love, Abby. P.S. Maybe you can meet someone at a church picnic? Meanwhile, over at The Law Offices Of The Wife, The Maid, The Attorney, And His Numerous Possible Lovers: Roam and Banks return to find Mama Roam looking everywhere for them. Sydney walks up at the same time Mama Roam asks if Roam can pick up Adam from school, but Sydney is there with a thousand teeming inches of no. Roam has a thousand meetings, and Mama Roam doesn't like his commercials, but until we know if this is going to be anything more than another throwaway plot line that goes nowhere, I shall say nothing more about them. But a cell phone! Now that's something to base the entirety of dramatic action around, am I right? Back at Lover's Leap, Jew-liet argues that she's not "some kind of overprivileged freak," and that Adam might know that if he tried speaking to her. But, I guess, only having known each other for two days, they haven't gotten to anything much beyond "You're grounded and I'm horny until it's the other way around." Somehow this talk of her phone and Adam copping to feeling somehow compromised or intimidated by Jew-liet's money (not that he's exactly in a van down by the river himself, but I guess it's possible for even a middle-class family to live well when there's no electricity bill to worry about) leads them to wonder if what happened should have happened. This dialogue is harder to recap than reality-show stream of consciousness. So if this doesn't make any sense, it's because this doesn't make any sense. Adam levels with her: "I loved being with you. I loved touching you and you touching me." They quickly agree that they don't know what they're arguing about, and so the fight is over. Um, can we get the "writer" of this episode line so that we may further literalize the teleplay-writing convention of "phoning it in"? Is this scene in here to make us believe that their love is so deep and enduring that it will trump any trifling difference between them? Because it really just makes it look like they hate each other.
Goldman. Office. Phone. "Whaddyamean she wasn't in school today?" What I mean is that the tape of Bueller faking sick didn't work, and now Jennifer Grey and Charlie Sheen are at the police station together. Which is kind of amazing, considering that I think the principal in that movie was, in real life, found to have, um, accessed some of Goldman's more prosecutable websites, am I right? And then a guy drops an envelope on Goldman's desk, and we cut to... ...Goldman at home, explaining what a subpoena is to Babs "Cardboard Box Of Porn Emporium, How May I Help you?" Goldman. He reminds us all again that making Goldman testify at The Trial Of The Zzzzzzzentury will form the basis for a case Roam is going to build against Goldman. Man, if only he'd figured that out last week. Ah, well. Babs knows that Roam "will fail, again," but Goldman is more concerned that his own kids will start to think their father is, in fact, a criminal. Babs argues, by way of evasion, "Jewel's in no position to judge anyone." So lest they judge her first, or whatever. Jew-liet is soon to enter the house to find her furrowed-browed parents waiting for her in the living room. They bait her into lying about being in school, and the Babs gives a judgy "hmmm" before volleying, "That's interesting. Your math teacher called to ask if he should fax the homework." Ack. Do teachers really do that now? I mean, teachers who suck? How mean. Jew-liet comes fully into the room now and sits down, the "writer" using every prompt of his shiny new Final Draft program (except for the "apply pressure to the keys in a way that would indicate talent to the viewer" kind of way), depressing the C, X, and V keys while holding down "Control" over the highlighted text of this exact scene in last week's episode. We don't lie to one another! Adam's the only thing you've ever made me lie about! Goldman assures her, "We are not a perfect family." Well, not as long as you dabble in the sick and twisted "Son Trade" you seem so obsessed with, you freaks. Try keeping that secret buried in the bottom drawer forever, I dare you. Babs incorrectly states "we can't make your choices for you," which is exactly what they're doing. But for some reason, that's the statement that makes Jew-liet the maddest, and she marches out of the room far enough that her father feels inclined to yell at her about the perils "turning her back" on him and Babs. But Jew-liet screams back that it's not easy being his daughter, and that she just wants to be with the guy she loves and blee blee blee. Honestly, just let them get together. Let there be no strings attached. Tell them to do whatever they want together and give them limitless supplies of money and cell phones and whatever else you can dig out of the bottom drawer. Simmer on low. Wait a month. This relationship will be over. And probably so will the show that depicts it.
Everyone's in bed with everyone. Son 2.0 tells PornDaddy that he wants Jewel's room if she moves out. But what will he do with his entire wing? Hasn't he looked at his house lately? Meanwhile, Jew-liet tells her mom that she and Adam did it. PornMommy and Jew-liet are in bed together too. They're totally not talking about the issue at hand, though, PornMommy focusing on what kids at school say about the family business. She tells Jew-liet that if kids give her a hard time, she can tell them to "go jump in a lake." Oooh, that'll cut 'em good. If she's trying to slice them down with colloquialisms best used for when someone tells her that her father's a Communist while hiding under her desk in an air raid drill. Seriously, I haven't heard that expression since Jughead said it to Reggie in the first Archie Comic Digest. That Jughead. Will he never win? PornMommy lies to PornDaddy. Quordon's lawyer tells him that he received the list of witnesses to testify against him, and that the first name is Goldman's. How this comes as a third act shock is a shock. Quordon -- who has done nothing but squint and glower -- squints and glowers and tells his attorney that if he doesn't do away with Goldman, "you're ." Quordon's Quattorney tries to clarify the difference between "lawyer" and "contract killer," and fails to convince him or us. Goldman wanders through the District Attorney's office, opening the door to Roam's inner sanctum to discover his advisers hard at work trying to erase all the porn from Roam's computer. Goldman asks for "a word" with Roam, and the rest of the assemblage scurries off. Once he and Roam are alone, Goldman takes heed of a photo of Adam, proclaiming him a "good-looking kid" (and how!), and using that non-segue to turn to the photographs of Roam and Banks, telling him that this should be enough to prevent him from having to testify. But Roam retorts that he feels sorry for Goldman, living the sick life of degraded sleaze that he does, and tells him that he and Banks were in a hotel room interviewing a protected witness for the case against Quordon. And he walks up to a conveniently appearing television set and hits play with a conveniently located remote, and whaddya know! Cued up to the good parts, baby! On the tape, Quordon's business associate from last week (simpler times, when he was still known merely as "Cordone") tells Banks that Quordon ordered the bombing of the club because Goldman refused to break the law and launder his money. Oh, ouch. Outside, Goldman makes two quick calls, firing Mr. Private Investigator and telling Right Hand to "make this damn trial go away." For some reason, Right Hand appears to be holding his side of the phone call from the set of 2001. Which is when this episode started.
End. END!!! Quordon's pissant lawyer finds Right Hand at -- where is this, Alice's Restaurant? -- and tells him in "hypothetical" terms that Quordon has ordered the killing of Goldman, and, well, he'd really rather not be a part of that. "He wants me to kill your boss," he hisses. Right Hand doesn't want a trial. Quordon's lawyer doesn't want to be in the same room with him. Right Hand offers his -- oh, I wouldn't if I were you -- right hand, and the two shake. Banks sees the whole thing, and Roam tells Quordon that his lawyer is trying to strike a deal with Goldman, and that he's got the pictures to prove it. Quordon wants to make this deal: "If I'm gonna die in prison, Goldman is too." Roam is stone-faced, but we're back to Goldman's bedroom phone, where PornDaddy tells Right Hand that the trial is off. Quordon cut a deal for twenty-five years no parole, Roam brokered it, and Scarpelli was the name of Quordon's lawyer all along! Goldman tells Right Hand to sleep well, and we're treated to pretty much the only actual skin we've seen in this episode -- that of a shirtless Right Hand lying in bed. Why, god, why? He hangs up the phone and smiles as Darlene Fake Smith jumps on top of him. She asks, "Was that Mr. Goldman?" Indeed, it was. "He thinks you're ready for your close-up." She deadpans her I'm-not-evil retort: "I'll have to sign a contract first." He promises that he'll attend to it personally as she snuggles in closer. Just watch the right hand, Darlene. He can be a sticky little fella. And, finally, we fade out on a final shot of Roam-eo and Jew-liet (both fully clothed! Gyp!) saying goodnight by the light of the picture phone. How'd he get home from school? And, over in Roam's office, behind closed doors, the D.A. tells Sydney that they "have to stop," and he takes her on his desk as the sun goes down on nasty, nasty L.A., where everyone has secrets, skeletons, and demons, all stashed quietly in the bottom drawer.