Couldn't anyone other than Lindsay say, "Previously on The Practice"? She is just so annoying. Last week, Bobby's friend, Scott Wallace, ends up in jail for murdering his wife. The Runt coaches a witness in the same trial. Helen allows Scott's brother-in-law to perjure himself on the stand and then regrets it later. When Wallace asks to testify, which is his right, Bobby pulls rank and doesn't let him. The whole toxic swing-set ordeal with Lindsay and Ellenor is introduced, and they win their summary judgment against the EPA.
Once upon a time, there was an Emperor of Law, Robert O. Donnell, Esq. We shall call him "Rod." He and his minions would hold court daily to allow Emperor Rod to impart his wisdom. Now, the Emperor and his loyal subjects are gathered, under the veil of night, in an expansive boardroom in Rod's Firm. He uses his finger as an expert pointer, drilling his troops in the practice of the law: "Are your experts ready?" One Jimmy The Lump responds positively by stating that they are all set. A lovely purveyor of good named Ellenor adds that their witness, Dr. Tillotson, flew in this morning, and is well prepared. The Emperor's right-hand man and sometimes conscience, Sir Eugene The Good Knight, wonders who will be put forth by the opposition. Ellenor responds, "The EPA? How about everybody?" See, in this kingdom, sarcasm is the preferred mode of conversation: "They can't afford to lose this case. The precedent would be a disaster." The Receptionist Wench Lucy pipes up, suggesting that Ms. Frutt is nervous. She is roundly rebutted. Ms. Frutt may be many things, but nervous is not one of them. Swiftly, Emperor Rod jumps in to make sure everyone understands that "this is not like tobacco. Where the jury's going to go in there thinking the defendant is evil. There is no predisposition weighing in your favour here." His fingers are pinched together like he's dropping salt into stew as he waves his hands around to make his most excellent point: "In fact, in this case, the jury's fears will work against you." The Royal Rebecca, making a fleeting appearance, questions, "How do you figure that?" The Emperor turns to his employee, scoffs slightly, and responds, "People don't want to believe that playground equipment everywhere is poisoning their children. They don't want to believe that the government could know about it and just looked the other way because of politics --" Ellenor interrupts; lucky for her, Emperor Rod is in a benevolent mood and doesn't have her hanged as she breaks in to explain that that's exactly what the EPA are doing -- looking the other way. The Emperor shoots her a stink-eye, a gesture the minions have been trained to obey, and continues, "People don't want to believe it, Ellenor. And you have to be mindful of that while you try this case." His hand slices the air as if it were the guillotine set up in the courthouse grounds for beheading insolent subjects, and he goes on, "You are arguing something that no one wants to accept!" He would have continued if it were not for the Empress Lindsay stepping in to control her husband's tendency to "run off at the mouth." Eugene asks how their case is, and Ellenor responds that, although its circumstantial, it's certainly credible. Again, Emperor Rod feels he must interject; he waves his hand around, holding his fingers together in the universal symbol for "okay," and lectures, "Don't focus on proof so much, but more on the fact that the EPA didn't test this stuff enough." Well, Ellenor seems to have had enough -- she quietly explains that they have done "this" before, that they've been preparing this case for eight months, and that they're ready: "Anything else?" We look to the Emperor for his final words of guidance, watch him pinch his fingers again, and listen as he imparts this bit of wisdom: "Yeah." The steel blue eyes are focused and clear: "Win."
Credits.
Hellenor's (tm deborah). A satin-dressing-gown-clad Helen Gamble enters the kitchen, doing her best impression of Faye Dunaway in Mommie Dearest and wondering if Ellenor's ready for her day. As Helen pours herself a cup of coffee, her roommate wonders if she's planning on going into the office. "Yeah. Just moving slow." Ellenor looks concerned: "You okay, Helen?" Helen perks up for a minute, puts on her bratty hat, and smirks, "Yeah! Don't I look fabulous." The joke here being that she's supposed to not look fabulous, but you know everyone in television land wears their make-up to bed, in the shower, and, well, just about every damn place they go, so you know she really does look great. Which is the truth. Except for the great part. Maybe her hair's a bit messy, but her make-up could still have been applied by my two-year-old nephew using watercolours. Helen's blue because, well, it "must be a mid-life thing. I promised myself if I wasn't rich and famous by the time I was thirty I'd at least be sleeping with someone who was." Because happiness in the land of Emperor Rod is found by being rich and famous. That's the mettle of the devil, ladies and gentlemen -- oops, did I say "devil"? I meant to say that's the mettle of DEK. Yeah, Helen's really growing a conscience, and quickly -- not.
The Firm. Emperor Rod is chasing Rebecca around the room, encouraging her to work faster. Imploring her to get Jimmy to help even though he's the third chair on Lindsay and Ellenor's toxic swing-set trial. He complains about people sitting on their hands, ironic for a man who can't seem to keep his still for longer than a nanosecond. "Nobody is sitting on their hands," Rebecca says, "especially me." (In fact, her hands are filled up with heavy law books -- she's very busy, this Rebecca.) Eugene emerges from his office to greet the Emperor: "Bobby?" Rod turns to look at his friend as he continues, "You are going to let him in on everything he has to appeal, right?" There is a painful, pregnant pause as the Emperor sends forth a gigantic stink-eye meant to catapult his nation into action and to remind them never to criticize their leader.
Courthouse. Dr. Tillotson is on the stand, explaining the nature of neurological difficulties. Ellenor is asking her pointed questions about the nature of arsenic poisoning and its effects on children. They explain how the wood used to make the play gym was treated with a fungicide called CCA, which is a carcinogen. Over time, the children, while playing on and around the gym, ingest the toxin, which causes their neuropathy. The Anti-Bobby stands pompously at his podium and attacks: "You can't prove that this play equipment caused these problems, can you, Doctor?" The gentle doctor shakes her head and agrees that she can't prove it was the play gym which made the children ill. The Anti-Bobby continues along these lines for a minute, trying to establish reasonable doubt. Dr. Tillotson says that while they may not know for sure, there is certainly enough anecdotal evidence to suggest that CCA is, in fact, the cause. "But you can't prove it, right, Doctor?" Each time the Anti-Bobby says "Doctor," he sounds out both syllables placing his emphasis on the second syllable, making the word sound like "dock turd." Blah de blah. Ellenor and Lindsay look a bit frustrated as the defense continues to hammer the point home that there is no scientific proof of the neurological effects of CCA.
Courthouse. Helen's dressed, but she still looks like Joan Crawford. Except that Joan Crawford had breasts. Yes, Helen looks like Joan Crawford without the shoulder pads and the breasts. Mr. Barrett calls over toward her, and they greet each other rather coolly. Stone Cold thanks him for coming by and invites him to have a nice seat on the hard wooden bench. The camera tightens up on their two faces as she explains that the defense is going to appeal Scott's guilty verdict: "My feeling is one of the grounds they'll be raising is the veracity of your testimony. I think we could best head that off at the pass by offering polygraph results. You can take the test in my office and we'll be done in an hour." Barrett's not falling for her wily ways: "I thought they weren't ever admissible." Helen concedes this, but explains that, for witnesses, sometimes the results can carry some weight. He's not convinced and refuses to take the test. She says it would be a big help to her if he did. He refuses again. They play a game of verbal volleyball. Helen serves one right over his head, and the music slides in to suggest her duplicity. He restates his opposition to the test. The DA poises to stare him down: "Why is that, Mr. Barrett? Did you not tell the truth?" Helen looks as if she wore her make-up to Woodstock two years ago and never took it off. She threatens him by explaining she'll go to the judge if he doesn't give her the polygraph results. Because it's so legal for the DA's office to participate in blackmail and all: "You could be facing perjury, Mr. Barrett. Have your lawyer pay me a visit. Today." With that, she stands up and slithers away with the music.
County Jail. Emperor Rod is convening with his client. He's brought a list of entries from the wife's Rolodex for Scott to examine. The client glances at the papers and wonders what he's looking for. In a shocking display of humanity, the Emperor responds, "The desperation of it would probably depress you." Wallace looks up at his saviour and begs him to continue, and, as you know, Emperor Rod can never resist the urge to flap his gums. He explains his thinking: "Well, is there any possibility that it wasn't suicide? That somebody else killed her?" Scott looks to Rod in confusion. He continues yapping: "I know it's out there, but while she was leaving you, suppose she was seeing someone else, and after you two fought, she called and he came over to get her --" You see, in addition to being a great leader and a wonderful man, Rod is also an accomplished storyteller. Scott shuffles down toward the paper and admits the scenario does depress him. Bobby points his magic finger toward his client and asks him again to examine the list. They need all the help they can get at this point. "What about the appeal?" With his fingers grasping the chicken-wire-like bars of the cell, the Emperor looks concerned, even a bit distant, as he responds, "We're putting it together." A second passes. And then another, until Bobby can contain his guilt no longer -- even Emperors are human -- and approaches Wallace. "Listen, Scott," he starts. "You have one other grounds we need to talk about and it could cost me my bar card." The man is distressed and confused, yet he urges the Emperor to continue, which Rod does: "You were denied your right to testify by me. You were adamant about getting up there and I just cut you off and rested the defense. I think it's an issue." The subject shakes his head, refusing to believe ill of his leader; he says he trusts that the Emperor was just putting their best case forward, using the best strategy. The Emperor, in a moment of weakness, confesses, "But, in the end, it has to be your decision and I totally usurped it." The Theme of Truthful Treachery perks up behind them as Bobby continues, "You might want to think about hiring a new lawyer and making that one of the grounds for appeal." But Scott wants Bobby, regardless of how strange that might seem. Scott sighs, shakes his head, bites his lips, pinches his nose, and says, "Bobby." Pause. "This situation that I'm in, it's not likely I'm going to get out of here. I know the odds." No more dreams of Fiji. "Now, if I'm going to have any chance, I need a lawyer who feels he's in the hole here with me." The music changes its tone, it gets lighter, even brighter, as we crescendo toward the ultimate goal of every single scene on this show: The Exaltation of the Emperor. No one will fight harder, smarter, longer than Rod. Hip hip hooray! Three cheers for our mighty leader!
Courthouse. Ellenor has another expert on the stand discussing the toxic swing-set. He explains that when the coating breaks down, the arsenic can be inhaled, as numerous studies have proved. He rhymes off some names and dates of clinical data. He explains the risk, calls the play-set a "cancer death trap," and worries that they are in backyards all across the country. The poor man's Anthony Hopkins sets about deconstructing the "death trap" argument. They discuss the coating again, with Hopkins explaining that the wood in this play-set was coated to protect people from the dangers of the CCA. However, the doctor counters, the coating breaks down, and when it does, it becomes a dangerous carcinogen. Well, Anthony Hopkins pulls a rabbit out of a hat, at least as far as the jury is concerned; as we pan toward their faces (and I could swear that one of them is a doppelganger for an older, wiser Adam Rich), they look increasingly concerned as he suggests that all of our houses, at least the ones made of wood, are treated with the same kinds of pesticides, which in turn would mean that they too are "cancer death traps."
We fade into the conference room at the firm as Ellenor is wrapping up her own recap of their first day. She feels things are going well. Mr. Jamison is wearing a brown plaid shirt, a brown tweed jacket, and a brown tie with strange peacock feathers on it -- I think wardrobe is purposely trying to make him look funny so we don't notice how his creepy ears are glowing. They discuss the barracuda of a witness up for the defense -- Feldman. Lindsay's got her spear and she's ready to hunt. Mrs. Jamison inquires whether or not she's going to testify, and Ellenor explains that they're keeping her until the very end. They want the last thing in the jury's mind to be the children and all their problems. The Theme of Impending Doom heightens the tension in the room as Ellenor once again explains how tomorrow's testimony could make or break them.
Bindsay's (tm deborah). Water patters as we see Lindsay in the shower. Gross. A shower scene. I prayed for some pale Psycho rip-off, but was sorely disappointed when it was Bobby, not Vince Vaughn, who ripped open the curtain and exposed his wife to the cold air. Damn, no one needs to see a soaking wet, concerned Lindsay -- no one. Perhaps this scene is DEK's way of supporting his wife's career -- you know, shower, water, bathrooms, it's all supposed to remind us of Michelle's abysmal summer movie What Lies Beneath. If DEK's good at anything, it's sending subliminal messages; look at all the Emmy's he's racked up. Lindsay must have been in the shower a long time, because Bobby's concerned. She squeezes the water out of her hair and shakes off some more as he hands her a towel. She's fine. She's just thinking with eyeliner on, in the shower -- that's right, we wear our make-up in the shower here in Emperor Rod's land. She whines a bit about how she's "got to get him." Bobby gives her a pep talk consisting of "you will get him, you will." And we are thankfully spared any full-frontal nudity.
Helen's office. Barrett's lawyer is in there contesting the polygraph. Mr. Stone looks like Batman's butler Alfred. Blah de blah, he lied, blah de blah, life sentence, blah de blah, they don't see eye to eye. Stone's not going to allow Barrett to take the test -- why would he? Helen, doing her best impression of our favourite Stone, Ben Stone of the Law & Order Stones, responds by saying, "How about simple justice?" The other Stone, Alfred Stone, of the guest-spot Stones, snipes back, "I was away last week, did the system suddenly become about that?" She cuts back: "I don't find cynicism persuasive." In the end, Alfred refuses to subject his client to perjury charges, and Helen tries to buy him off with a little immunity, but that's not enough; he also refuses to be the key that unlocks the murder charge. Now what, Helen?
Courtroom. Feldman is testifying for the EPA. Remember last year, when Lindsay ripped apart that tobacco company, and ended up destroying their case? Yeah, that's what happens here. Feldman tries to portray the EPA in a positive way; Lindsay rips him to shreds. Oh, poor barracuda. My favourite line in her cross is "so, kill a child, save a tree?" Feldman never really recovers from the suggestion that the environmental lobbyists paid off the EPA. Then she starts in with the statistics -- how in 1998, the EPA failed to inform a million power plant workers that they were at risk for mercury poisoning, and on, and on. The music swells, and she throws out a question about how many chemicals the EPA has actually done neuron-toxicity on. Feldman doesn't know. Lindsay does, and the final answer: nine. Of the hundreds of thousands of industrial chemicals, how many did they ask for the neuron-toxicity data on? Again, Feldman doesn't know. Again, Lindsay does: three. All three stuffed shirts look anxious as Lindsay finishes with this witness. Oh, she got him, all right. Does DEK ever get tired of the same plot line, I mean ever? Let's pause here a minute. In the first two episodes, we've replayed the following scenes: Jimmy and the Fonz -- good guy's innocent but the lawyers can't help. Lindsay and the tobacco company -- bad guys are harming good people and they set out to make it right. Jimmy and the cancer trial -- good guys battle the bad guys about some environmental issue which causes irreparable human damage. Bobby's Friend Commits Murder of Spouse -- Raymond Oz kills his wife and then Bobby has to get him off (not really the same, but sort of the same). Is it too much to ask that he just take a little time and maybe, just maybe, use his imagination? Here at MBTV, we'd like to call this "flogging a dead horse." In fact, this horse is so dead that it's already decomposed and its spirit has found itself a new home in my two-year-old cat, Willie Pep.
Scott's Visiting Cell. Bobby's going through the unknown names with Scott. They discover that his wife was seeing a psychiatrist named Bernard White. Wallace didn't know his wife was seeing a doctor, and Bobby says he'll pay him a visit. The Emperor then revisits the whole "didn't let you testify" thing and lets Scott pump his ego back up to its normal Mount Rundle heights. No one's as good, no one will try as hard, yeah, he screwed up, but Scott knows he'll keep trying. They throw each other a little love.
Courthouse. Mrs. Jamison is on the stand. Her testimony is heartbreaking. One son suffers from seizures resulting from a toxin getting to the brain. Ellenor asks what the doctors suggest they do, and Mrs. Jamison explains that there was nothing they could do except medicate him. Then, her daughter, Sarah, started falling down. "What do you mean she started falling down?" her lawyer asks. "She would trip. If she tried to play hopscotch she would fall flat on her face. They thought she had cerebral palsy." With tears in her eyes, Mrs. Jamison is encouraged to explain the health problems of her third child, Everett: "He can't read. He'll never be in a normal class. He'll never go to college." She turns to the Anti-Bobby and Anthony Hopkins: "And you knew!" Objection! "I have a boy whose body convulses with foam coming out of his mouth, a daughter who can't help but fall down and a son who can't read and you people have known for thirty years!" The Anti-Bobby implores the judge to make Mrs. Jamison stop. The judge instructs her to answer just the questions she is asked. She turns and looks to who we think is Ellenor and asks, "What was the question?" Instead, out pops Anthony Hopkins repeating his question. Gosh, those quick edits are confusing. Anthony Hopkins goes through a barrage of other reasons for the sickness of her kids. He then asks about the play-gym, and finds out it's still in their backyard. Ellenor objects, explains that question is work product, and Hopkins snidely remarks they're keeping the equipment as evidence for their law suit. Ellie rightfully objects. Hopkins again turns to Mrs. Jamison and asks if any of the doctors concluded that these medical troubles came from the CCA. She can't say that they did. He smiles and thanks her. We hear his shoes clumping against the floor as he returns to his seat. The music signals a much-needed break.
Dr. White's Office. Bobby drives his hands through the door, burrowing his way in, and Eugene follows. The doctor explains that he's not comfortable about giving out information on his clients. Bobby says, and I quote, "I understand." And then starts to question him about -- you got it -- his client, Mrs. Wallace. Again, the doctor insists that while the identity of his patients may not be protected by privilege, he is reluctant to hand them over to the two lawyers standing in front of him. Wardrobe has, quite simply, got to go: Dr. White's wearing a button down Mr. Dress-Up sweater, because he's a psychiatrist, and all psychiatrists are dumpy middle-aged men who moonlight as children's television hosts. Bobby persists, asking Dr. White what he was treating Mrs. Wallace for and blatantly ignoring the doctor's appeals to privilege. He reluctantly responds that he was treating her for anxiety, sleeplessness, and depression. The Emperor is shocked to hear that she was being treated for depression and demands to know why White didn't come forward. White responds that eighty percent of his patients are depressed, but that "they don't typically kill themselves." Eugene interjects, "But sometimes they do!" Which causes Bobby to explode, throw his arms to the side, and scream, "How could you sit on this?" Here, and pay close attention: Dr. White explains he didn't come forward because he didn't think Karen was suicidal. Further, he didn't want to come forward because many patients would be less forthcoming in treatment if they knew their records would be open for public consumption after their death. The Emperor is aghast: "We had a man charged with murder here!" He screams, "The jury convicted him because they didn't believe the idea that she was depressed!" He turns his head in disgust and dismisses the doctor with his hand. Then Dr. White makes the most unfortunate of all unfortunate mistakes and implores the Emperor not to yell at him. "I will yell at you!" he responds, and Eugene tries to get him to calm down; not dissuaded, Bobby continues, "What the hell were you thinking?" Serenely, Dr. White explains that he was thinking she was probably murdered. "Well, you were wrong!" Eugene grabs a hold of Bobby's attention and reminds him that they "need this guy." The Emperor purses his lips together in a vain attempt to hold his tongue as Eugene quietly asks the doctor for Karen Wallace's medical records.
Courthouse. Lindsay, not Ellenor, closes. Apparently, learning disorders are up fifty-five percent in New York: "The likely culprit -- chemicals." Lindsay explains that the market is too competitive for the independent companies to monitor themselves; hence, we rely upon agencies like the EPA to warn the public of potential problems. She explains that the EPA are simply not doing their duty. Blah de blah dangers, blah de blah thirty years, blah de blah done nothing. Still doing nothing. I wish I were doing nothing right now. Blah de blah lobbying, blah de blah, hurt children, blah de blah, no data. Apparently, they've restricted the use of CCA around farm animals, but not around children. Staggering. Lindsay "Erin Bitch-covitch" continues to harp on about the arsenic in the wood. She makes a solid point, though -- if the Jamisons had been warned about the possibility of neurological damage to their children, they never would have put the play-gym in their back yard. Why, oh why, DEK, do you make these closing arguments so damn long? By the number of times Lindsay repeats the words "EPA" and "protect" and "CCA," you'd think I was stuck in Groundhog Day with Bill Murray. Hey, but there's a glimpse of Adam Rich sitting in the jury box again. Thank goodness for small mercies. Let's now beat the episode to death by showing all, and I do mean all, of Anthony Hopkins' closing. He throws around some big words like "contaminants" and "botulism" to scare us. Hey, did you know that almost every consumer product poses some unproven health risk? Shocking. Should the EPA study them all? He means this to be a rhetorical question, but I'm inclined to say "yes, they should." Blah de blah rapidly changing scientific landscape, blah de blah, trying to keep up, blah de frickin' blah, making decisions upon what is known: "And today, like yesterday, it has not been scientifically established that CCA causes the neurological effects that the plaintiff speaks of. And even if it did, they've offered no medical evidence whatsoever that it did in the case of the Jamison kids." He pulls out his last trump card by stating that the plaintiffs' case is built on pure speculation, and nothing more. The director can't resist playing the Coda of Cancerous Death Traps as we once again hear Anthony Hopkins clomp back to his chair.
Helen's Office. She and The Runt are having a tiff. Helen "Joan of Snark" Gamble wants Richard to sign an affidavit stating that he coached a witness to lie: "It doesn't say 'lie'!" she implores. "But that's the implication," he bitches, and wonders what the hell she wants to accomplish. She says that Wallace deserves a new trial, and the two of them take over the Bobby/Lindsay dynamic of last season. The Runt screams, "You're not taking me down. You might have some professional death wish! But I don't! And if you think I'm going to let you go forward!" They volley the "maybe he lied" or "maybe he didn't" but "we don't really know for sure what he was thinking" ball back and forth until Helen gasps, "Maybe you can live with this conviction, but I can't!" The Runt pulls up his socks and starts scrapping: "I'll fight you on this, Helen!" She accuses Richard of trying to rack up convictions with a blatant disregard for innocence. For a minute, I think the Runt is going to explode; there is steam coming from both ears as he righteously blabs, "I don't believe he's innocent." He tosses his own threat into the ring by proposing that Helen's moving forward with this could ruin her career and their friendship. For some reason, the music considers this a serious matter, because it swells its seriousness around The Runt. Helen tries to eke out even the barest of emotions as he slams the door to her office.
Courthouse. Ellenor approaches Team Toxic with yet another offer from the defense: $225,000 per child. Mr. Jamison stammers, "That, that, that beats $20,000." Lindsay nods, and Mrs. Jamison inquires as to whether or not they should take it. Ellenor doesn't really know. Then Mrs. Jamison gets all flaky and has some sort of premonition: "I think we're going to get more." Apparently, she just feels these things. While rubbing his wife's neck, explaining that Angela has "intuition," Mr. Jamison decides they should go to verdict. Ellenor wants them to be sure. He turns to Angela, but she's convinced it's going to be more, and that is that; after all, what's a woman if she's not intuitive, right?
The Firm. Bobby and Eugene are standing around Lucy's desk for some reason, discussing Karen Wallace's psychiatric records (the front of the office is so much more private than, say, the conference room?). Bobby barks some order at Lucy where she's supposed to arrange a meeting with Judge Wolfe, and orders Eugene to call Helen Gamble when she just strolls right in like the saviour she is: "I'm convinced that Kyle Barrett lied on the stand." Helen says after Bobby informs her they've got new evidence for Scott's case. She also slips in the fact that he was coached by the prosecution. Eugene and Bobby look like the cat that ate the canary.
Courtroom. It's the blue room this time. Bobby's arguing that, in the interests of justice, Scott's verdict be overturned and he be awarded a new trial. Shockingly, Richard opposes Bobby's motion. He and Bobby spar for a bit regarding Helen's "honest" tendencies and her now-deflated credibility within the department. Judge Wolfe reigns them in. Scott Wallace looks terrified. He honestly has such a pained expression on his face that you'd think he was as constipated as Sean was on Survivor. They yell at each other for a while over Karen Wallace's medical reports. Judge Wolfe sets down his ruling: even though Helen came forward, it's still the jury's role to judge the veracity of Barrett's testimony, not hers; he does find the doctor's report to be relevant, but he's not satisfied that it would have resulted in a different verdict. He denies the defendant's motion for a new trial by slamming his gavel. The Sound of Fifty Years of Hard Time bounces throughout the room as The Emperor approaches his defeated friend. "I'm not quitting," he says. Scott wants to know what happens now. Bobby explains they go to appeals and challenge them on legal grounds. "I'm not quitting," he repeats. Hey, Bobby. We get it; you're not a quitter. Now shut up. DA Kate is in the gallery, and she watches, seriously, as Helen leaves the courtroom. The same music is still playing.
We sit around a circular table with Team Toxic. Angela Jamison is confused. Jimmy tries to explain that a judge can cut back an award if he thinks it's too high. Steven Jamison wants to know then what's the point of a jury trial? Jimmy says that judges don't necessarily like to do "it. But this guy. I'm not sure?" They go through the options available to them, and none is particularly appealing. Ellenor suggests she's going to be ill. Lindsay just plain old gives in and advises the Jamisons to take the judge's offer. The Tears of Discontented Trial Verdicts Everywhere are prompted by the music as everyone whimpers about how life just isn't fair.
Helen's Office. DA Kate comes in unannounced. She seems kind of mad -- hum, I wonder why? "You blindsided the department. Embarrassed it. And now we have to deal with a media --" She's so angry she can't even finish her sentence, and then she fires Helen. Only, wait a minute, Helen says very calmly, "You're not getting my resignation. And if you fire me over this, then just watch the media come at you." You know, I might care about Helen's predicament if perhaps I cared about Helen, but I don't, so let's all say it together now: Who really cares? DA Kate wonders why she's doing what she's doing. Helen explains, "We all say better to let a guilty man go free than put an innocent man in jail. An innocent man is serving a life sentence, Kate. If this were Texas, he might already be dead!" When did Helen become the jury? And when did Helen become so self-righteous? Blah de blah the jury doesn't know about the polygraph, blah de blah the jury doesn't know Barrett's a liar, blah de blah the jury doesn't know a lot of stuff: "I do." Then DA Kate lays down the barest smackdown I have ever heard in the history of all employee smackdowns: "You're right, Helen. I can't retaliate over this. So, I'm just going to go back to my office and wait for your mistake. Every day. I'll just wait." Then, Helen dismisses her boss: "Thanks for dropping by, Kate." There is more emotion in my kitchen sponge than in these two women. Oh, I guess blackmailing your boss ensures that you're a successful DA in Boston. Good, now I know what to strive for.
Final commercials watch the sun go down, and we're back at The Firm. Lucy drops a cup of tea off on Ellenor's desk (I'm assuming to settle her stomach), as it's Rebecca's turn this episode to give the "we've had a bad day" pep talk to a bunch of despondent defense attorneys. Not a single person responds. Rebecca continues, "We can't just sit here and brood." Jimmy mumbles something about picking up the pieces, and Ellenor, quite out of character, snarls, "I'm going to get him. The judge. I'm going to get him." Rebecca sighs, and the camera pans outside to the window of the firm as we see Bobby staring off into the distance, hands settled comfortably at his side, throwing in the towel.
week, prepare yourself for some (more) screaming as Ellenor files a formal complaint against Judge Pickle-Up-His-Ass.