The Firm. Young Lucy is opening for business. On her way to her desk, she steps on a brown eight-and-a-half-by-eleven envelope. Licking her lips, she opens the envelope and pulls out a picture of a nun holding a copy of the Boston Herald. Once Lucy focuses on the picture, her face contorts into a strange combination of concern and fear; she holds the picture in one hand and starts searching through her desk drawers for a magnifying glass. From behind, a pair of slacks starts making its way toward her. A shadow creeps up behind the young woman as her lips move while she's reading the paper in the picture. The tension mounts. Bobby "Sneakers" Donnell taps her gently on the shoulder: "Lucy?" She shrieks, whips around, sees who it is and says: "Ah, you scared me!" He apologizes. She calls his attention to the photograph: "Bobby, look at this! It's a nun holding the Boston Herald with yesterday's date!" What? "Look! He's still out there! The nun that stabbed Lindsay; he's still out there! Bobby, do you see this?" She's holding the picture out as Bobby walks around her desk over to the front door. Lucy starts shrieking, screaming, "Why does he have to do this," and getting very upset. "Calm down!" Bobby admonishes her as he investigates the front door to make sure the lock hasn't been tampered with. Lucy wonders what he's doing; the senior partner points out that the picture was taken in the office. Looking around, Bobby can't quite believe it himself: "He knows how to get in!" With conviction, Lucy says: "He's alive. With his own key!" Oh! Very scary! Thank goodness we have the credits to break the tension.
The Firm. Boston Police are milling about -- dusting for prints, turning things over, investigating the crime scene -- this office sure sees a lot of action. Det. McGuire is there, and so is Helen; she suggests the picture could have been taken by a copycat. "Could." The detective responds, "But this doesn't fit the profile of a copycat." What exactly is the profile of a copycat? They say these things with such conviction that you never really question them, but in the end, a lot of what the cops say on this show makes no sense. Ellenor: "It fits Joey Heric's profile. He would love to taunt us this way." Eugene sneers as he suggests that Ellie blames Joey for everything. Jimmy "The Lump" Berluti asks if it is at all possible the lock was picked? Det. Mike shakes his head from over near the door: "Doesn't look like it." Lindsay "The Princess of Prim" Dole snips, "Are you telling me the man who stabbed me might still be out there?" From the front of the shot, Lucy cuts in: "Never mind 'out there,' Lindsay! How'd he get in here?" Helen begs them to calm down. Jimmy "Choose Your Own Adventure" Berluti pipes up, "It's got to be connected to that nun-killer case."
Rebecca makes her way through the surprisingly crowded courthouse to sit on a bench beside a fellow who looks like a combination of Matt Damon and Ben Affleck. You know, you'd think that would be a great combination, but somehow this guy has ended up looking kind of awkward. Rebecca is bringing back the offer to her client. She sits down and announces that he'll get six months. He's upset that he even has to serve. "Ronnie!" his lawyer chides him as he continues, "She darted out in front of me! I wasn't even speeding!" Well, that's not really the point, dude; you fled the scene, thus defining "hit and run." They just don't let you off, no matter whether you think the pedestrian was at fault. Ronnie wants the fact that he turned himself in to count for something. He has a strong Boston accent. In fact, in the whole time that I've been watching the show, I can probably count on one hand the number of people who have actually had Boston accents: this character, and one or two jury members -- that's about it. Rebecca lets her client know that if he wants to go to trial, they can, both she and the prosecution are ready; if they lose, though, he could get two to three years instead of the six months. She recommends the deal (and grasps his arm to exhibit the serious nature of the situation). Ronnie nods his head in agreement and drawls, "Alright." We pause there for a second.
The Firm. Detective McGuire is still inspecting the alleged break-in. Bobby, Eugene, and the cop are doing the traditional "walking from one room to the while talking" blocking that drives me nuts. Mike is explaining that the police don't necessarily think that it's the same guy, and that DYD&F have had a lot of high profile cases lately, so it could be someone using the nun "motif." Eugene "The Rock" Young: "So. What you're saying is -- you don't have a clue?" Detective Mike doesn't answer and sort of looks at the ground for a second before the High And Mighty Saviour of Stabbed Fiancés pipes up: "So what's going to be done?" Mike responds that they'll investigate, but as it stands, they haven't even gotten a death threat. Obviously, it's not on the top of the police's list of "things to do." You know those pesky rapists, murderers, and car thieves; they all come before a pack of whining, sniveling lawyers afraid of a little picture. Bobby starts barking as he orders Lindsay to move in with him that night, and Ellenor asks Lindsay, "Do you still have your gun?" Lindsay pulls the pistol out of the top drawer of her desk. Jimmy, for once the voice of reason, gets up to say, "Let's not overreact here!" Ellenor snaps, "There's some psycho targeting us, Jimmy!" Bobby "The Patri-not" Donnell blabs, "And you think a gun's going to be the answer?" Ellenor responds that she'd sure like the gun better in her hands than in his. Jimmy shakes his head and notes that "this guy was already winning." The Lump makes sense -- I mean, come on. Hire a security guard for the little while, change a lock like the detective suggests, but for goodness sake, could we do without the gun rhetoric for a while?
Courthouse. A woman's voice announces Ronnie's case: ". Commonwealth vs. Ronald Vega. Reckless driving. Leaving the scene of an accident." Actually, I think that it wasn't an actor at all, but rather the computerized voice that hums on my phone-company answering machine. Judge "Swashbuckling" Swackheim presides, and, of course, he can't keep it to himself: "Another police conspiracy, Counselor?" No. Rebecca grits her teeth to stop herself from reaching across the room and strangling the jerk. The DA known only as "ADA Jennifer" pipes up: "Your Honour, we've reached a tentative agreement subject to the approval of the court." Lay it on him. She asks for a moment as another prosecution person whispers something in her ear. She does a little look-to-the-left-look-to-the-right to heighten the tension before she whispers to Rebecca, "I'm sorry, the agreement is off." Something you'd like to share? Well, it's not a good day for poor Ronnie, because the victim of his hit-and-run died this morning -- the prosecution wants to withdraw the plea agreement, add vehicular homicide to the charges, and then move forward. The defense attorney is noticeably angered as the judge orders bond set at seventy-five hundred: "This is outrageous!" Of course, the judge just can't let it go: "Yes. Well, given the fact that your client confessed, I suggest that you get together with the DA and work out a plea." As he's being dragged out by the courthouse guards, Ronnie shouts that he needs to talk to Rebecca, but she's too busy chasing the turncoat known as ADA Jennifer. They throw open the doors of the courtroom and stop in the hall. "What the hell?" Rebecca demands. As they continue walking, the DA explains that the doctors have connected the death with the accident; there's nothing she can really do. Well, there's one thing: she could stop calling Rebecca "Bec" -- it's insulting. ADA Jennifer's willing to give Ronnie five years. She rationalizes the deal by saying that "Swack" would give him eight by throwing the homicide into the mix. Rebecca nods her head and says she'll need to talk to Ronnie "Keep On Running" Vega before she'll agree to the deal.
Whoosh. In the holding cell, Ronnie's pacing. He's wearing a three-quarter-sleeved shirt with a strange vest on top. Rebecca reports that the offer is now five years. Without raising his head, clenching his hands together, Ronnie says he didn't commit the crime. His lawyer starts to explain that the doctor can connect the injuries, but Ronnie interjects, "I didn't hit her. I wasn't driving the car." Rebecca furrows her brows and asks him what he's talking about. Okay, some character named Eddie Barrington, some real-estate baron, was the drunkard who hit the woman; he paid Ronnie to confess. With his puppy-dog eyes, Ronnie looks straight at Rebecca and says for the umpteenth time that he didn't do it. Hey, at least he calls the lawyer "Ms. Washington" -- that's a hell of a lot better than "Bec." In an incredulous sort of way, Rebecca repeats his story out loud, so she can believe it herself: "Somebody else is paying you to take the fall?" Actually, it's a pretty sweet deal: Ronnie gets thirty thousand for confessing, plus an additional ten grand for each month he'd have to serve, but five years, no way he's going to dog it for that much time. There's a little technicality called a signed confession to tackle, but Rebecca still wants to know if there's any way they can prove the truth. Ronnie doesn't have an alibi, but the payola is collecting dust at the bottom of his closet if anyone felt like retrieving it -- that should be proof enough.
Boston Back Alley. This whole plot line is so ridiculous and full of awful stereotypes: women can't protect themselves, they're weak, defenseless, so in order to power up, they pack heat. Pul-lease. Lindsay and Ellenor are buying a gun from the back of a van. Yes, the back of a van. They are committing a felony in the name of self-protection. Because there's no time to go through the proper channels. There's no time to hire a personal bodyguard or even request police protection. The only avenue available to Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dumber is to sample some wares from the street. They twitter about guns going off in their purses. They prattle on about prices. The gun dealer is wearing gold chains and has a comb-over. Don't they all? Lindsay prods Ellenor into buying the illegal, non-carry permitting, effectively mega-dangerous weapon with the six hundred and fifty dollars she's carrying around in her purse. She's got exact change, of course. The dealer slams the doors of his van shut, and we listen to the two of them head back to the office. Ellenor rationalizes, "I don't know whether to feel better I have a gun or to be appalled that you can buy them on the street." The two discuss target practice and the benefits of having a gun fall into the "right" hands. A drum beats as we see the back of a nun's habit. The Symphony of Sinister Stalkers rises as we watch the two women walk off down the street before the commercials come up -- he knows they've bought a gun. That simply can't be good.
ADA Jennifer's office. "Sounds a little like a tall tale, Rebecca." The lawyer agrees, "but with one exception." And she places a box with many, many rolls of bills inside on the desk. With a wink, Rebecca says, "Not a bribe! It's evidence. Thirty thousand, and he promised to pay him an extra ten for every month he spent in jail." Witnesses? Of course not. But Rebecca ran Barrington's records and found he has two DUIs. Well, that's nothing compared to the two priors for cocaine Ronnie has under his belt. Rebecca defends him: "Ronnie has been straight, sober and honest for six years." ADA Jennifer's not convinced but she will talk to "this Barrington guy." Ronnie's lawyer wants to be there, and Jennifer sort of agrees: "But if I find that we've been put through the ringer on this, I'm taking five years off the table and I'm pushing for eight." Our Beige-Suited Defense Attorney is insulted that the ADA thinks she's trying to put one over on her. The ADA throws out a familiar line: it's not Rebecca they don't trust, it's the client.
Boston Street. Ellenor is walking down the sidewalk. Only we don't know it's Ellenor right away, we're just supposed to guess it's her because the camera chooses only to focus on her purse. It finally pans up to her stern, dedicated face as she barrels down the walk. There is an altercation, and the contents of Ellenor's suspicious-looking purse tumble out for all passersby to see. Oh, lucky for Ellenor -- it's just George "Non-Head-Chopping, Non-Nun-Habit-Wearing" Vogelman, coming to visit her at work. They bicker about Ellenor's gun. Oh, how ironic. He suggests that she needn't have a gun, but rather she should move out of her apartment; it's in an awful neighborhood. It's been taken care of -- Ellenor's moving in with Helen. George, for some narcissistic reason, wants to know the details from this morning, so he invites Ellenor for dinner. She hesitantly agrees to meet him at five-thirty at Angelino's. How does he change his clothes so quickly?
Dirty Barrington's office. The police, district attorney, and counsel for the defense are present at the interview. Hell, they don't even drag the bastard down to the precinct; they just let him sit all comfy in his leather chair while poor Ronnie rots in jail. Now, let's talk tall tales: how easy is it for rich people to get away with murder? Just about this easy: See, Ronnie looked a little rattled when Barrington went to pick up the car, so he decided to check it out before he paid him. Then Ronnie confessed to Barrington, became very distraught, and started to cry. Jennifer asks whose idea it was to call the police. Oddly, Barrington's holding a stress ball in his right hand; it matches his leather chair, which matches the truly awful sculpture visible from the shot. It's some sort of nude study of a man holding what looks to be an oversized eagle. Hideous. Anyway, Dirty Barrington starts to stink up the room with his sleazy lies. He manages to convince the police, but not Rebecca; she asks the hard questions: "Why were you getting your car detailed at night?" He turns and gives her a smirk: "I typically get my car done at night because that's when I'm not using it." With a glance at Rebecca's unforgiving face, and then a look at the DA, Dirty Barrington deduces that he's the one being investigated. Well, if the shoe fits, asshole. Jennifer lays it on the line, the whole story, that Vega claims that Barrington's the one who hit Elizabeth Nickson, and that he paid Vega to take the fall: "You're not taking him seriously?" Barrington patronizes, and then dismisses, the three Justice-keeters.
The Firm. Bobby "And Clyde" Donnell is admonishing the women for taking part in the gun fiasco. He and Lindsay are screaming at one another. Of course. Good to see that some things never change. Bobby, ever the upholder of the canon of the bar, taunts the two with a little "you're lawyers," then screams at them for buying the gun from "God knows who," and lets them know what he really thinks about them breaking the law. ["My God, what would this firm do without Bobby's steadfast moral guidance?" -- deborah] Hell, why on earth would they even tell him? It's no one's business but Ellenor's if she decides to spend six hundred and fifty dollars on a hot gun. He continues his tirade, looks indignant, and asks them what they'd do if the two of them ended up getting disbarred over this entire situation. Mrs. Bickerson sneers, and I mean sneers, as Lindsay's entire top lip curls into her nose when she says: "Oh, Bobby. Shut up." And I say again, these two are getting married? Jimmy attempts to calm them down, but Bobby's having none of it: "The fact that we're engaged does not mean that I'm not still senior partner. You don't speak to me like that in here." He points his finger at her. She bites it off and tries to drag him outside. Again, Jimmy tries to get them to cool it, but both of them snap at the poor Lump. "Be quiet!" Bobby screams, while Lindsay yells, "Stay out of it!" Oh, how do I hate these two, let me count the ways. The Bickersons take one more nearly evil look at one another and walk back to their respective corners. Poor Lump. He retires to lick his wounds, and for some reason he doesn't bash the two of them in the head with the desk lamp. That's what I'd do.
ADA Jennifer's office. Rebecca and her beige suit are back for yet another conference about Ronnie's case. Life really sucks sometimes: Dirty Barrington's wife gave him an alibi, says she was with him the whole time. "Well, what did you expect? She's his wife," Rebecca counters. The ADA tells Rebecca that they are pressing forward against Vega. They start to argue about the case. They have a signed confession. He was paid to give that, but unfortunately, Rebecca just can't prove it, leaving her client hung out to dry: "The only case you'll be able to prove is against Vega. Why even investigate Barrington, because with Ronnie's testimony he represents automatic reasonable doubt." She wants a lie detector test. It's not admissible but it's accurate. The powers that be are instructing ADA Jennifer to move forward against Vega. I feel bad for Rebecca; she has the word of her client that he didn't commit this crime but she can't prove it. And I feel bad for ADA Jennifer because, regardless of whether she believes Ronnie or not, she has enough evidence to convict him, and therefore must move ahead. Rebecca shakes her head at the other woman, and they both look defeated. It's a sad world we live in where real estate barons get away with murder. ["Or former football stars. Money talks." -- Sars]
Holding Cell. Rebecca and her beige suit are now on their way to see Ronnie. The light is very yellow in the room, casting a bleak shadow over the lawyer and her client. She slams down her briefcase and informs Ronnie that Dirty Barrington's wife is providing an alibi and that the prosecution is moving forward against him. She wants to try the case and throw the deal to the wind. If Ronnie can persuade Rebecca, then he'll surely be able to convince one juror, and you know what you've got then: reasonable doubt. After the locker-room-worthy, Stanley-Cup-winning pep talk, Ronnie does an about-face; he too has decided to toe the party line. "I'm sorry?" Rebecca says. "It was me," he continues, "I hit the woman. I decided to stick with my confession. Let that be that." She jumps up and follows him to one of the windows: "Wait a second. You're going back to saying you drove the car?" Yes. Her wily female intuition kicks in as she asks, "Have you had any visitors here?" He doesn't answer her; we can see his reflection in the glass. It makes his face look all wonky. She repeats, "Anyone here to see you?" Ronnie turns and mentions that Mr. Barrington's attorney had been to see him, and asked why Ronnie was accusing Ol' Dirty of doing something that he had done. Rebecca crosses her arms and wants to know what he sold himself for this time? They appealed to his conscience, he says. Yeah, right. And the fat bank account is just a bonus. And the selling-poor-Ronnie-down-the-river, that's just a perk, huh? The offensive odour of Dirty Barrington threatens to asphyxiate Rebecca and Ronnie as they cling to their lives in the little glass box. She explains again to that he can't do that -- this is a homicide, and she doesn't care how much they are offering him to take the fall, it's going to ruin his life. Okay, he might look like an awkward cross between Matt Damon and Ben Affleck, which is strange enough, but on top of that poor Ronnie sounds like Kermit the Frog on steroids. "Do you know the first thing about my life, Ms. Washington? My parents were dead when I was nine. I never finished high school. I make about eleven thousand dollars a year if I'm lucky. Going to prison may be the best way of preventing me from becoming a criminal." Rebecca stands in front of him with her arms crossed; she's holding her ground: "You're a criminal right now if you do what you're talking about." She can't win; he's sticking to the story.
Swack's Chambers. The ever-so-understanding judge is helpless -- or, should I say, he refuses to be helpful, because that's just the way he is: "What do you expect me to do about it?" He holds his hands out in the "so" gesture. Rebecca's in chambers asking to be let off the case. She can't knowingly defraud the court. He's not convinced: "You don't know anything. You suspect!" He then rambles on about the court being even further defrauded if Rebecca were let off the case, because then some second-rate hack would come in and let Ronnie plead out, further destroying the integrity of the time-honoured system. "How did you get so cynical?" She asks. He leans forward to explain that he's not cynical; he's annoyed. Well, if it quacks like a duck. She doesn't much like his flippancy: "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm sure you have a nice bowel movement planned to give your day some meaning." Heh. Bowel movement. Heh. Meaning. Heh. She moves around closer to his desk while the Swack gives her the stink-eye for the BM comment: "Have you been listening to what I've been saying? A kid has been bought off to take a homicide rap, in your court. If that doesn't bother you then don't tell me you're not cynical, or jaded or even putrid for that matter." He leans back in his chair. In the end, the Swack-Attack does the right thing. He rejects "the kid's" guilty plea in return for a trial but forces Rebecca to stay on as counsel. They bicker about how Rebecca can't stay on; after all, she might have to be a witness because of what she heard. He'll have none of it, in the interest of justice and "non-cynicism"; she's the best lawyer for the job. He dismisses Rebecca with a little "ten o'clock, Counsel. You delay my bowel movement one more second and I'll hold you in contempt." Heh. Bowel Movement. Heh. Potty humour. Heh. Rebecca sighs the longest sigh I've heard in a long time and accepts her fate. ["Well, since deborah's last recap, anyway." -- Sars]
Jimmy's house. He's walking down the hallway in a very gray building. With all the nun fear in the air, he's booby-trapped his apartment by duct-taping his door before he leaves. The seal is broken! A Dramatic Tone of Impending Doom floats over the scene as Jimmy glances up to see the ripped tape. He slowly removes his hand from his lock, leaving the keys in place, pulls out his cell phone, and calls the police. In a flash, and I mean a flash, the entire Boston Police Department is at his door. Jimmy's explaining, over the music of course, that he put the tape on after lunch, and now it's broken, and hell, no one's in there except for him. Detective McGuire, who's always on duty, asks if anyone's come out since Jimmy arrived. Okay, if someone did come out, wouldn't Jimmy be dead? So, asking if anyone came out is kind of a rhetorical question, right? The police whip out their guns as the camera watches them head into Jimmy's apartment. The music soars. The big drums gong. The door opens to find a dark apartment; slowly the police make their way inside, looking around, making sure everything is safe. The tension heightens as Jimmy follows them inside. Cymbals crash as the light in the bedroom flickers. Oh, lord, the stalker left a light on to let everyone know he or she was there! The police officers approach and make sure it's clear, only to bust the door down and scream: "Police, freeze!" Roberta Kittleson screams in horror as half of the Boston PD sees her in her birthday suit. In his confused, muddled way, Jimmy quavers, "Roberta?" Judge Beautiful orders all of them out while she scrambles to cover herself. For a minute, I'd confused her with Whipper from Ally McBeal. ["It's a bad idea to litter the television landscape with too many original ideas, so really, DEK's doing us a favour by illustrating the many ways to recycle a plot." -- deborah] The men are stunned. Kittleson's screaming. The whole thing is so ridiculous, I'm going to stop typing. Okay, I've started again. She came to surprise him. Jimmy's surprised. The audience wasn't. We've seen this one before -- that's happening a lot lately.
The Firm. Jimmy's telling a tall, but truthful, tale of his own. "Naked. Naked?" Eugene says as his mug bursts on-screen. Jimmy describes Roberta's surprise visit. This is a ridiculous story. Enough said. Little Miss Can't Be Wrong walks in with Ellenor. They're discussing the impending move, and Lindsay informs Bobby, "Ellenor's going to move into Helen's place so I'll need to sleep at your place tonight." She doesn't ask if it's okay. She doesn't even stop as she moves toward her desk. Lucy snaps, "Sounds romantic!" Until the massive drop-kick to her head from Queen Bitch Lindsay drops her into a coma. Eugene decides to leave the drop-kicks to Lindsay and busts a move to court. He's second chair with Rebecca. As Lindsay inspects her desk while the other lawyers stand in front of her, she exclaims that the stalker has been there again, and had held a notebook. Get this, she can smell him -- his cologne, that is. As the Drum of Daring Intruders bangs away in the background, Ellenor takes her own whiff of the book. Lindsay's shaking. "It's him!" she says in response to Ellenor being unable to smell anything. ["That's an awful lot of cologne you'd have to be wearing to leave the scent on a notebook. What. Ever." -- deborah]
The Ronald Vega Trial. There is a detective on the stand, and before you say anything -- no, it's actually not McGuire. This guy explains that Ronnie was crying when they arrived at the scene, and that he was accompanied by Mr. Barrington, the owner of the car. It's a good story if you like dirty rotten lies: Ronnie hit the woman while driving the car back to Mr. Barrington, and it was Mr. Barrington who convinced the young man to call the police. The jurors are taking notes. Rebecca asks if the police, at that time, looked into whether or not Mr. Barrington was driving the car. At first the cop doesn't answer correctly, spits out a little "he was questioned later," which causes Rebecca to re-state her question. She immediately jumps into the thirty-thousand-dollar defense, causing the ADA to object and Vega to shout, "I made that up!" The Swack tells Ronnie to take his seat and overrules the objection. The judge threatens to tape Ronnie's mouth shut unless, well, he shuts it, but Ronnie just keeps screaming that he wants to plead guilty. It just doesn't make sense: an innocent kid who wants to plead guilty? These kinds of cases don't come around too often. Thank goodness it's Rebecca who's standing up for him. The shot shows Ronnie with, you guessed it, his mouth taped shut. Rebecca then re-questions the police officer about the alleged pay-off -- someone told him later. The cop continues by stating that he was told the subject had retracted his statement, but Rebecca follows up with, "Are you aware that this retraction was made subsequent to a visit to his cell by Mr. Barrington's attorney?" She's sharp, that Rebecca. Well, the detective wasn't aware of that either, and I'd call that a slam dunk. The jury's still making notes. I'm not sure about this addition to the "realistic" aspect of the show; it all looks a little too put on if you ask me. ADA "Perky" Jennifer jumps up and calls Ronald Vega to the stand. Rebecca objects -- something about a Fifth Amendment. It's a pesky thing, that Fifth Amendment.
Judge Beautiful's chambers. Jimmy hesitantly enters Roberta's office: "What were you thinking?" She wants to know if he's there to compound her humiliation. But you know as well as I do that it's DEK compounding her humiliation -- he wrote the stupid script. We'd all be on the beach right now if "Dummy E. Kelley" hadn't thought it was a good idea to snag a scene from Ally McBeal. Stumbling Bumbler Lump didn't know he and Roberta were speaking, "much less --" Apparently, a trial judge, who has made her entire career, we assume, speaking in one form or another, finds it difficult to come out and tell a man she misses him. Wanna know how easily this could have been avoided? Here: Sound of a phone ringing in Jimmy's office. Hello? says the Lump. Hi, Jimmy, this is ragdoll -- just wanted to tell you that Roberta, a.k.a. Judge Beautiful, really misses you. That's how we could have avoided the whole ridiculous scene. Wait! Instead of calling him, sending him a note, or even dropping by his office: She finds it easier to show up in his apartment naked. Roberta's upset about what people think; Jimmy wants to know why she cares. I want DEK to know that I really don't care one iota what happens to these two after this insulting story line. Okay, I'll stop being such a grouch: the scene ends with the Music of Roberta's Hot Bod as the two embrace. There.
The Firm. Bobby has just gotten off the phone with the police. McGuire hasn't found any leads, but he believes that the fact that the stalker has gotten bolder means he's more threatening. Lindsay snipes, "Gee." Frankly, we've all gotten a little sick of her attitude. Bobby gently asks if he can talk to her, and no doubt he's afraid of ending up in the same coma that Lucy was in earlier. Lindsay doesn't look up at him, but says, "Go ahead." Bobby beckons her to his office; in return, she snarls and tries not to burn the entire firm down with her Female Fury while walking across the room. He's mortally offended -- no wait, his ego is mortally offended: "What have I done to deserve this?" She's curt: "You've done absolutely nothing, Bobby." They start bickering. At which point I call in a marriage counselor, who has this to say: "The obvious amount of conflict suggest that these two should never, under any circumstances, marry." Do you think they'll listen? Anyway, Lindsay wants to know what she and Ellenor should do while under the stress of imminent danger? Because buying an illegal gun was so practical. She gets down and dirty: "What should I do? Go and get a restraining order -- 'all murderers stay away'? Expect you to protect me?" Okay, if Bobby looked like David Spade that comment might make sense, but, umm, he's like six feet tall and pretty built; he wouldn't make a bad bodyguard. She is quite a piece of work. Poor Lindsay, she's got scars, does he want to see them? He lets out a little "here we go" under his breath and she takes offense -- again. He starts to explain that he understands what she went through -- but she's having none of that. The marriage counselor pipes up again: "It's obvious that Ms. Dole is taking her anger regarding the situation out on her partner. Perhaps now it might be a good time to mention that a little counseling does wonders in these types of situations." Word. Lindsay continues to bitch about the fact that he really doesn't have a clue what happened to her, because it was she who got stabbed. Three. Times. One. Two. Three. Un. Deux. Trois. "Somebody took a knife and stuck it into me three times." Each time she says the words "knife" or "stabbed," her incredible acting skills take over and she motions to her stomach. Her voice continues to rise. Then she describes what the knife went through when it entered her midriff: skin, ligament, fat, something anatomy-oriented, I stopped listening at that point: "I was on that floor dying, and you think you know?" She stutters for a minute as Bobby looks at the ground: "You think you give me an engagement ring and it'll all go away? I mean, that's supposed to just heal everything? I almost died!" She points her finger at him: "And you can't bring yourself to talk about it!" She's still screaming: "You know! A week later you're wondering how many people we should invite!" They can't pretend it didn't happen now. He's out there, and she can smell him. Bobby hugs her. She can smell him. She cries and she can smell him. She gasps for air and she can smell him. Hey, she can smell him. ["Yup, the smell sure is overpowering." -- Deborah]
Hellenor's. George Vogelman is casually dressed and carrying boxes. He brings one into the apartment, asking where it should go, and Ellenor tells him just to leave it right there. Helen is teasing Ellenor about George's voracious appetite for boxes. Ellenor repeats that they are just friends. Helen says: "Oh, come on! Roommates are supposed to share their little sexual secrets. I sleep with this football player, he brings over his poodle. Dog likes to lick my toes during." One look is worth a thousand recaps. After seeing Ellenor's expression, Helen backtracks, "Just kidding!" The two new "roomies" are discussing the merits of male/female friendship. Surprisingly, a barracuda like Helen doesn't think that men and women can be friends. Ellenor responds by saying that it doesn't hurt to have a male friend close by in case of emergencies. Stone Cold Gamble gripes about George's head-cutting incidents; Ellenor touts his innocence. They banter for a while until the Sonata of Serial Killers rises, and the camera pans around to see George standing outside the door listening to the entire conversation.
Ronald Vega Trial. ADA Jennifer asks Ronnie to confirm he was the driver of the car that hit Elizabeth Nickson. He signed, sealed, and delivered a full confession. Jennifer asks if Ronnie told Rebecca that Mr. Barrington had paid him for his confession. "Yeah," he says, "but I was lyin' to her. He never paid me. I hit the woman and I'm acceptin' responsibility." Cut to Rebecca questioning Ronnie about the very same thing, and she asks specifically if he changed his story after a visit from Barrington's lawyer. "Yeah," Ronnie drawls, "because he appealed to my conscience." We all know it's not about conscience. The dirty lawyer for Dirty Barrington asked him if he really wanted to be sued for falsely accusing someone. Does Dirty have no shame? Rebecca recounts how it was Ronnie who told her to go to his apartment and get the thirty thousand Dirty Barrington had paid him. ADA Jennifer objects, because Rebecca is testifying. The Swack overrules. Rebecca continues to grill him about the money: why didn't he put it in the bank? How did he save that much money when he only makes eleven thousand a year? ADA Jennifer objects to Rebecca breaking attorney-client privilege. The Swack: "Counsel. You're lucky enough to have a scumball who confessed. Why don't you just sit and be happy with that?" Objection is overruled. Calmly, Rebecca continues to question Ronnie: "Taking the fall for a homicide! I bet you're getting a lot for that!" He re-states that it was he driving the car, but he won't look at Rebecca. She asks why, and he gets petulant: "I'd look at you, but you're just some ambitious bitch doing I don't know what or why!" She throws the sentence back in his face, walks away, and we break for commercials.
Hellenor's. Ellenor asks if George is sure he doesn't want to stay for dinner. With a strained smile, George replies that he already has plans. "Ah!" Ellenor smiles. "Have you got a hot date?" The man is deadpan: "Are you making fun of me, Ellenor?" No, she replies, she wasn't. She is oblivious to the strange looks passing from roommate to friend as Ellenor smiles and asks if George feels like walking her out. He gives me, and Helen, the creeps -- finally, we agree on something.
Ronald Vega Trial. Rebecca is giving her closing statement: lawyers saying their clients are innocent when the client himself says he's guilty. Sounds crazy, doesn't it? She's breaking rules all over the place. Turns the tables on The Swack, calling out his mouth-taping, his poor language, laying many grounds for appeal. Integrity of the room, blah blah, Ronald Vega doesn't care about the room, blah blah, you the jury should, blah blah. Rebecca extols Ronnie's negative values; he screams, "You don't represent me," The Swack threatens to tape his mouth again. Rebecca: "You want to rot in jail for cash, it's not just your business. It's mine and it's theirs. I won't be bought off, and I doubt you will be either." On and on with the oath, the truth, blah blah, you know the truth, Ronald Vega wasn't driving that car. Turn to Jennifer yammering on about convictions with confessions, what's the matter with the justice system anyway? Oh, what's the big deal about evidence? Admission of guilt? No big deal! Oh, she's so losing this trial -- that's why she's just "ADA Jennifer" with no last name.
The Firm. Bobby comes out of his office, wondering if Lindsay "Can Smell Him" Dole's ready to go home. She's still got a lot of work to do. "I have a gun, remember?" she chides him. Bobby starts to apologize for everything, for his gigantic ego, his pompous attitude, his unbearable, intolerable barking. Oh, wait. That's me I thought he was apologizing to, but it's Lindsay, so he grovels for a bit, explains that her charade of good health had him fooled. In his heart, he just likes to believe that everything is okay as The Waltz Of Lindsay's Festering Wounds drives up the emotion quota like Tiger Woods on the back nine. She needs time to heal. And he's there for her. There is tenderness. There is an oboe. There are apologies. There are trembling lips: "It's just him still being out there. It just brings it all back. I just keep thinking what if he's caught ever, he goes to trial, I'd have to testify." She whispers, "I don't think I could handle it. It was just so much easier with him being dead. I just want him dead." Now that's justice for you.
The Ronald Vega Trial. The Swack asks if the jury has reached a verdict, and the defendant is asked to rise. The jury finds the defendant not guilty. In spite of himself, Ronnie smiles, and Rebecca mutters, "What do ya know?" under her breath. ADA Jennifer just looks defeated. The Swack adjourns and Ronnie hightails it out of the building. But, just as Rebecca snipes that her lousy clients never thank her, The Swack pipes up with a little "Ms. Washington. The court thanks you." Well, I'll be -- all that glory, and Eugene's taking her out for dinner.
Hellenor's. Using every lame trick in the book, the scene is set for the ending to a straight-to-video thriller. The scene opens to see Ellenor coming home rambling about dinner, the tap is running in the shower, and once she completely gets into the apartment, she notices Helen's scrawny arm hanging over the tub. ["At first I thought Helen was trying to re-hydrate her Sea Monkeyish self." -- Deborah] The Theme Of Soon-Ensuing Tragedy starts racing as Ellenor rushes to try to revive Helen. She runs to the phone; the cord is severed. Not just cut, severed. You know how these things are. All the while, Ellenor's mumbling, "Ohmigod. Ohmigod. Ohmigod." Because that's what people say when they're scared. Honestly. She turns from the severed phone to almost run into George standing in full nun regalia (including pumps). He looks really, really creepy: "Something wrong, Ellenor?" The nun's got her tongue. "I changed my mind about dinner," he quips like all psycho killers, "but I think Helen's too dead tired to cook." You? she whispers. "Susan Robbins? Lindsay?" ["What a load this entire storyline has turned into. Such a stupid and insulting and implausible resolution to this whole thing." -- Deborah] The Melody Of Multiple Personalities takes over as George does the obligatory explanation of his crimes; he meant to hurt Ellenor but found Lindsay instead. Drugged Helen with some chloroform to simulate death so that when she wakes she'll see Ellenor decidedly not alive. Ellenor: "You came to kill me?" George is bleak, his monotone voice not even breaking with the pressure: "Do you know how many times you've killed me, Ellenor?" ["Oh, please! Didn't he reject her originally?" -- Deborah] Ellenor glances toward her purse, signaling the fact that she's going for the gun, but, of course, Mr. Serial Killer is one step ahead of her (that's what makes this "thrilling"). He says, "You think you can use that gun to kill me, Ellenor. Let me make it easier for you, Ellenor." He kicks the purse toward her across the hardwood floor and continues: "I would love to go out that way! With you pulling the trigger; go ahead, Ellenor, get your gun." She grabs it, and he taunts her. The Melody is sauntering in the background. She'd be doing him a favour. Putting him out of his miserable, pathetic existence. Now, listen carefully, because here's where our plucky heroine shows some initiative. "What you don't know about me," she sneers, "is that I would. I will shoot you!" He taunts her some more: Then do it! I'll make you do it! They circle like it's the O.K. Corral. "Do it!" he screams and Ellenor jumps. "Do it! Shoot me, Ellenor!" She doesn't want to and begs him not to make her. She begs him to put the knife down so that they can talk about it, please. He comes toward her, and the gun goes off. It blows a lot, and I mean a lot, of smoke. He falls to the floor, and without checking to make sure he's actually dead (which is always a mistake -- you should always make sure they're dead), Ellenor goes to try to wake up Helen. Ellenor's still screaming "Ohmigod!" only this time she throws in some "Helen can you hear me"s while turning on the cold water. And I certainly hope for Camryn Manheim's sake that Lara Flynn Boyle is wearing some sort of something in that tub, because doing this scene with her naked would have creeped me out.
Of course, George gets up, because, of course, he filled the gun with blanks, because he likes to play dead. Ellenor notices the knife coming at her reflected in the shiny bathroom tiles, and she turns around and whomps George. He, of course, falls right into the mirror, which, of course, shatters making all kinds of noise, which, of course, does not signal any neighbors to call the police, or for that matter, even come round to see what might be wrong. We hearken back to Friday the 13th Part 300 as Ellenor races to the front door, which is, of course, jammed or something and she, of course, can't get out. She bangs on the door in frustration and turns to see George, holding the keys, coming toward her down the hall: "I'm feeling better!" He turns on his nun pumps: "I could even dance!" Okay, let's just take a sidebar for a minute: even if he has the keys, don't most apartments lock from the outside too? Why does he need to taunt her with the keys? It doesn't make sense. The psycho psychoanalyzes his psychotic behaviour: he put blanks in the gun, which we had already gathered; he just wanted to see if Ellenor would actually do it, and she certainly surprised him. The heroine's last-ditch attempt at saving her own life before the killer descends is always to plead for him to get help. Things are no different here. George grins, "Now you want to help me?" She tells him he has an insanity defense for everything he's done. "Well then! I'll also have one for what I'm about to do! Bad boyfriend!" he screams as he lunges toward her, knife sharpened and ready to be inserted, when, just in the nick of time, Helen emerges from her half-dead state, naked and looking like a harpy, and shoots the living crap out of George. He lands on Ellenor and, as his dying body drags itself down to the floor, it smears a tell-tale trail of blood across the front door of the apartment. The Drama Of George's Dying Breath is noted by his choking, gasping sounds as the camera pans to both women looking scared, exhausted, and disheveled. And that, my friends, is a wrap -- the ordeal is over!