Previously on The Practice: The Emperor Rod continues his quest to free Scott Wallace from his captivity, but fails as the judge refuses to throw out the verdict and order a new trial. Meanwhile, we watch The Runt coach a witness, then said witness lies on the stand and Helen goes to the defense with her information. Mrs. Jamison testifies, they win their trial and damages totaling $72 million. Judge Pickle-Up-His-Butt knocks the number down to less than $400,000. Lindsay is upset, but Ellenor, well, she's pissed.
In the front seat of a car, Jimmy's doing his best "Hugh Grant with a heart" impression by giving $60 to a young girl. They argue about the money for a while, you don't have to do that, no, please take it, thanks Jimmy, you're a good kid Jennifer, don't be doing this. "Thank you," says Tracy Middendorf, the bride from Ally McBeal's obscene car wash sex fiasco, before bolding lying to the Lump: "I will pay you back." Jimmy entertains her for a while, asks her to wipe the make-up off her face, and says, "In the meantime, get a paper route or something -- don't be doing this."
County Jail. The Melody of Mistaken Heroines plays as we see Jimmy rub his hand over his forehead. The camera pauses for a heavily instrumental second as we notice that Jennifer "Good Girl" Cole is in her third trimester. A pregnant pause! That's where they were going with that. A mixture of disgust and disbelief appears on Jimmy's face as the girl sits down to greet him. "You're having a kid?" he snorts. "You didn't tell me that! How could you still be doing drugs!" The dirty-haired, washed-out "supposed" drug addict explains that it was just this one time. Which is, of course, what they all say. Because we can never get beyond the stereotypes here on The Practice. Apparently, Billy left her, and left her like this. Meaning, what -- that he left her addicted to crack or pregnant? What. Ever. Jimmy wants to know why she's not in rehab. Despite her greasy hair, her eyeliner's perfect. Jennifer says she lost the number. The Melody rushes up again as Jimmy asks her how far along she is. "About eight months." In a hushed, mouse-like voice, for who could actually hear her over the wallowing music that accompanies this pathetic scene: "Can you get me out?" They bicker about smoking crack and being pregnant; Jennifer says she'll do the rehab, she'll do anything. Jimmy is revolted by her addiction. She begs for him to "just get her out." Frankly, my dinner is screaming the very same thing from my stomach right about now. Jimmy makes no promises, but says, "If I get you out -- you go into rehab immediately from the courthouse." The Melody approaches its final pass, knocking both of them out with its crescendo, as Jennifer makes a thinly veiled promise. The Lump looks serious: "Tell me about the arrest."
Whack. Bang. Crack. The sound of ragdoll trying to find her earplugs before the credits threaten to deafen her. Wait, what's really going to deafen ragdoll is the magnitude of a shout-out she's just discovered. Camryn Manheim now appears in the credits before Marla Sokoloff. Wham. Bam. That's an Empire State Building-sized shout-out.
The Firm. For some reason, Lucy is yapping on about starting the meeting while Ellenor chides her. The requisite "Lucy Quip" is deployed. The resulting "Ragdoll Eye-Roll" is administered. Emperor Rod barks an order, and The Lump runs down his Jennifer Cole case. She was arrested for possession of crack cocaine. The Lady Rebecca intones, "Again?" Jimmy throws his hands up, explains that he's got a motion to "kick it" at nine, then throws out the real kicker: "She's eight months pregnant." Thus allowing the Empress Lindsay to come down off her throne and impart the following bit of oh-so-helpful wisdom: "What? And she's smoking crack! You better hope the baby doesn't die. She could be charged with murder. Did you tell her that?" While trying to be polite to the Empress, Jimmy attempts to shut her up, but like most things in life, what you wish for never actually comes true: "She should be shot." Well, that's helpful, and what a good piece of advice -- let's just round up all the pregnant women with addictions and, well, shoot them, that solves the problem. Not. Emperor Rod interjects, wanting the firm to stay focused on the important business: his case. He inquires how Rebecca's research is going; she replies that it's going okay, and he tears into her because "okay" just isn't good enough. Rebecca then goes into detail about their options for Scott Wallace's appeal. The Emperor nods his head in agreement and rattles his pen in his hand. There is a sigh of relief that comes only when the Emperor himself is satisfied with their work. He brushes invisible lint off his impeccably clean-shaven face as he turns to the Lovely Assistant Lucy: "Keep dogging [sic] the clerk's office; Ellenor, jump in with Rebecca on the brief." Ellenor explains that she can't because she's "a little jammed." Lucy says she doesn't look "jammed" according to her calendar. Ellenor continues, "I have an appointment with the Chief Judge of the District Court today." Both Ellenor's impudence and her meeting astound the Emperor. He demands to know what it is about. "Judge Aldrich," she replies. Bobby rolls his eyes and starts lecturing: "Ellenor, we can't afford to be alienating --" She interrupts, "Just one meeting. The appointment is made. Aldrich was out of line. I'm not staying quiet." Well, that sure does hush up a room. Stonehenge moved more in the last century than the lawyers did in that room after Ellenor dropped that bomb.
Courthouse. Judge P. Spindle is presiding, and we're listening to a rookie cop explain his arrest of Jennifer "Crack" Cole. He claims her appearance was consistent with that of a crack addict. She was stumbling and disoriented. Susan Alexander from the DA's office asks what he did then. The officer explains that he searched the witness and found a small, hard object which he assumed was crack cocaine. Susan asks what happened . Blah de blah reached in her jacket, blah de blah retrieved the drug, blah de blah placed her under arrest. Jimmy stands up and buttons his jacket. He then takes the witness down. How could he feel a tiny piece of crack through both a brown paper bag and a heavy winter coat? Impossible. The cop explains something about his comprehensive and extensive training in crack cocaine "pat-downs." Turns out the officer was a little overzealous with his pat-down arrest, and the judge dismisses the case. Go Team Lump! With a whack of the gavel, Ms. Cole is free to go secure some more crack.
Ellenor steps off the set of The Practice and hops on over to ER to meet with Anspaugh. Oops. It's just Donald Anspaugh stretching his wings and playing the Chief Judge. All that training as the Chief of Staff over at County really prepared him for this role. Ellenor follows him into his expansive office and says, "I want to thank you, Your Honour, for being gracious enough to see me." Anspaugh grumps: "There was nothing gracious about it. You somehow got my home number and woke me from a deep sleep. I had no idea what I was saying yes to." What Chief Judges don't have secretaries who make their appointments for them? Sometimes I think DEK writes his scripts while he's still sleeping. Ellenor and the judge face one another: "We were basically blackmailed, Your Honour." They stare at one another for a second until Ellenor continues, "Judge Aldrich told us to accept the knock-down number or else." She recaps the whole sordid mess with her trial. Her explanation is met by a mean stare, and then rebutted: "You're talking about one of my most respected colleagues." Who committed a gross abuse of discretion. Not to mention what the clenching of said pickle up his ass would do to his colon. More on the blackmail; Ellenor emphasizes, just so that we are all clear, that she is "not overstating" her facts. Through clenched teeth, Anspaugh wants to know if Ellie can substantiate her claim. She affirms that Lindsay and co-counsel were present during the meeting in chambers. Anspaugh's response is a huff as he walks around his desk. He looks even more neckless than he did over at NBC here at ABC. He turns his head down, so that his eyes are looking up at Ellenor -- how he's doing that with his neck is beyond me -- and tells Ellenor she needs a court-reported record in order for him to act: "At minimum you should have appealed the reduction. Instead, you agreed to the knock-down and took the money." Exasperated, Ellenor throws her arms up and exclaims that her clients' took the money under duress. Anspaugh dismisses Ellenor, stating that she had then made a mistake by taking the money, and maybe that's what's "eating" her. This incites our fair maiden, and she bursts out with a little "it's the corrupt judge" that's eating her. I would have liked them to have used a different analogy for their feelings. The Court Jester, oops, I mean Chief Judge, after much prompting from Ellenor, explains that she could move for a new trial, or she could file a motion with the circuit court of appeals to have him removed for bias. The Call of Formal Complaints heightens the moment as Ellenor has finally found a partner in this dance: "That's what I want to do." The Court Jester attempts to talk her out of this decision by explaining that not only will her complaint be heard by a jury of his fools, oops, peers, but by his friends. Anspaugh advises Ellenor to think long and hard about her decision. Her resolve is made of steel; she wants to file a formal complaint. Me too -- I want to complain about the music, and the writing, and the serial amnesia. In which court should I make my complaint? Oh, yeah, that's MBTV Court. Do you think they'll give me my own cable show? Hell, they gave one to Tom Green, why not me?
Courthouse. Helen clomps down the hallway, her stick-like legs barely able to lift her shoes, and is met by a very disgruntled Runt. When she leans her head in to talk to Richard, she looks like a brontosaurus approaching a tree to eat for dinner. Oh, wait, a brontosaurus actually has flesh -- Helen's long neck and huge head look like an anorexic dinosaur trying hard to deny itself the food its body craves. Anyway, she asks the Runt if "this is it," they're never talking again. She asks for twenty seconds; he turns right around to face her. They ping-pong the whole "I think he's innocent" / "but I don't think he's innocent" for half the time, and the "we're officers of the court" / "he lied" discussion from last episode for the other ten seconds. Then Richard lays it on the line: "I also understood you to be my friend. And you cut my legs out [sic]. You basically accused me in open court of being dishonest." Helen thinks he's taking it a little too personally. I agree; in order to take something personally, you'd have to be a person, or at least have a personality. Richard does his best impression of a wounded heart, oh, my reputation, oh so many people abuse me, oh, I can get through it because I'm good at what I do, oh, I'm an honest person: "And when a colleague, a friend, stands up and obliterates that reputation. It's personal." Yeah, well, didn't that just put Helen between a rock and a hard slap in the face. Richard jumps into the elevator just as Jimmy jumps off, leaving Helen standing there holding up her pride.
Courthouse. Jimmy continues on his quest of "saving the girl from herself." He stumbles up and tells Jennifer, who is now dressed in her non-prison-issue clothes, that he's going to drive her to the hospital. Jennifer plays dumb, pulls her hair behind her ear, cocks her head like a coy actress from the silent film era, and says, "Oh. But I was going to go and see my aunt today." Translate: "I was going to go smoke some rock." Because we're supposed to get that she's a crack-addicted pregnant woman who doesn't think she has a problem. Jimmy reminds her that she promised, and he's got it all set up for her to do outpatient rehab. The young girl reluctantly agrees, but then DA Alexander and Nubile Cop charge down the hallway toward them. In an instant, Jennifer's cuffed again, and being arrested for distribution of a controlled substance to a minor. Whew. She's "smoking crack for two now." And they're arresting her. The crash you hear is the Constitution falling abruptly off the building and being washed right into the gutter. The Melody of Misappropriated Justice mocks Jimmy as we break for commercials.
Susan Alexander's office. It's pretty sparse. She's wearing a powder blue power suit that reflects just how pale her skin actually is -- do none of these women see the light of day? Or have they all found a secret fountain of youth they're keeping secret from the rest of the female population, keeping their skin both young and translucent? It's frightening. Jimmy is pacing and screaming about how the charge is absolutely ridiculous. He's taken a lesson from Emperor Rod and is slashing his hands around like they're weapons in a Jackie Chan movie: "There's never been a case made for distributing for a fetus and you know it!" She counters this point by saying that's just because the case has never been made before. Susan explains in her best pedagogical voice, "She distributed cocaine to her baby through her bloodstream." Jimmy is livid. In fact, I've barely seen him that angry, only in just about every single episode of this damn show. The DA's plan is to stop Jennifer from using until the child is born; Jimmy drones on about Jennifer agreeing to go to rehab. The DA's not buying it; she doesn't believe Jennifer will stick with it, and frankly, as the anvil of dramatic irony slams down before me, I don't believe it myself. They argue about the viability of the law for a few minutes -- Susan's deluding herself, Jimmy's going to contest it -- until they stop. For one glorious minute, we are suspended in silence as Jimmy's very large cranium finally grasps what Susan is trying to say. If they cut a deal, one that keeps Jennifer locked up until she gives birth, they can effectively save the baby from further harm. The Coda of Conspiring Moralists rises. Jimmy says, "You're asking me to conspire to keep her in jail." Just for a month, yeah, isn't that what all the fascists say? Susan pulls out her trump card -- she knows Jimmy cares for Jennifer, but he explains that the girl will go "crazy inside" because she needs "help, not jail." The music continues as Susan rails through the litany of health problems for crack-addicted mothers and their children. The DA wants to make a plea for in-patient rehab with no jail time; the lawyer just wants it to be clear that she's asking him to cop to a "bogus" charge. With a grating smile on her face, Susan says, "I'm asking you to consider you really have two clients here." We crescendo: "If she gets out, she'll OD, miscarry, who knows what will happen. She trusts you, and you can help her!" The strangely sinister smile sits on Susan "Bedazzled" Alexander's face as she and Jimmy "Brendan Fraserhead" Berluti prick each other's fingers and sign their contract in blood.
The Firm. Ellenor and Lindsay are apprising Mr. Jamison of the situation with Judge Tight Cheeks. He wonders about his settlement. Ellenor explains how they might end up with more if they actually win their motion. They dismiss their client and turn to bow to the Emperor, who has appeared on the threshold: "You filed a formal motion against Aldrich?" She wants to know why he seems to have a problem with their actions. How funny you should ask, because boy, does he ever have a problem with that motion: blah dee blah tenure, the right hand goes up, blah dee blah retaliation for the firm, the left hand goes up, blah dee blah they can cut damage awards, he does the hokey pokey, return verdicts, turns himself about, give lousy instructions, blah dee blah shakes it all about, hell: "What can't they do!" Because in the Land of Emperor Rod, the Judges are in fact gods, they could put all of their cases at the bottom of the docket, and, gasp, how dare she forge ahead with, oh, I don't know, trying to do the best for her client without passing it by him first: "At the minimum [sic] this should have been the subject of a partnership meeting." In a bold and brassy move, the Lady Ellenor brushes past the Emperor, sniping: "I've had bad experiences with partnership meetings." He turns to unleash his fury upon her, thrashing his arms about and inadvertently causing a tornado off the coast of Southern Florida. "Snide," he claims, "isn't what I was looking for." Ellenor explains that she's not looking to continue the motion against Judge Hoity-Toity, but to use it as leverage with the Anti-Bobby and Anthony Hopkins, in the hope that it might chip their knock-down number up a couple of notches. Well, it's a good explanation, but the Emperor's not convinced. "I am only trying to help the client," Ellenor says. "This is not about vengeance." Shockingly, Mrs. Rod keeps her trap shut through this entire scene. For once, she's window dressing, and we are spared another shower scene. Oh, if the collective unconscious in us all is hoping to be spared Lindsay's shower scene from ever burning its way into our common mythology. Gross.
Holding Cell. Jennifer is standing and chewing on her finger. Because she's a crack addict. Jimmy's outlining the deal. She's confused. Because she's a crack addict. He says that if she pleads guilty that they'll give her straight probation for a year. Strangely enough, the continuity personnel have seen fit for Jennifer to have washed her hair and blown it dry in shocking contrast to its matted, crack-addicted state of earlier scenes. Oh, to be in continuity. She doesn't want to go to a residential facility. Come on, Sandra Bullock was so much better after her 28 Days. "You need help, Jennifer," Jimmy croons, "you have an addiction." She snaps, "I do not! I can stop whenever!" Because she's a crack addict. "Then why haven't you!" he shouts. Because she's a crack addict. She makes her final plea for mercy: "I'll go to my aunt's house. There's this little room, it's like the perfect size." She rambles on about curtains for the baby, she doesn't know what colour, those places are no places for babies, "a baby should be at home." She asks Jimmy what she should do. He leans in for the devil-dealmaker of the century award, and says: "They've got a case here, and they're real serious. I think you ought to take the plea. It's the best thing for you." He can't make it go away. He's signed away his soul, and I'm wont to call him, well, the devil in the blue suit. All of Jennifer's faded hopes and dreams float away on the awful melody, and Jimmy sells her soul along with his own. Jennifer nods her head and accepts the deal. Because she's a crack addict.
Big Jail. An overhead shot shows us we're not in Boston, but outside the city at a State Penitentiary. And speaking of crack, Bobby's sitting with Scott Wallace. He's having a hard time in jail: "No. No, you've got to push it up." He's bugging about the appeal: "Bobby. I can't take this place. I mean, they see me as some rich guy. I'm going to be meeting up with the end of a broomstick in here." Huh? I'm sure he's going to be meeting up with a lot more than a broomstick in prison if we believe in Oz. Scott stumbles around his words for a while, stutters about how he can't take prison for much longer, and Bobby does his pale "friend" routine for a minute. Scott wants to pay someone to get him out, his lawyer explains that he's in for murder and that really isn't going to happen. "No! Get me out!" Scott slams his fists on the table and jumps up. The Impending Doom music starts up as Scott paces around the room, chewing on his fingers. Bobby: "We're trying to push up the appeal as soon as possible, Scott." Violins quiver. Scott sits down after regaining his composure somewhat and asks Bobby if he knows for sure that he'll get a new trial. The Emperor insists they're hoping that's the case, but looks rather concerned. His brow is all furrowed and his eyes are squished. At once, his client starts to break down, blah de blah can't take it in prison, blah de blah got to get him out, blah de friggin' blah. In short, Scott's seriously losing it.
Lawyer's Office. The Anti-Bobby and Anthony Hopkins are seated at their conference table with Lindsay and Ellenor. Ellenor is trying out her "Plan A." This is the one where she tries to manipulate the lawyers for the EPA into raising their settlement number. The Anti-Bobby is obnoxious and doing most of the talking; he ain't the Anti-Bobby for nothing. Ellenor hands over their subpoenas. The EPA lawyer mocks her, "And you think if you call us as witnesses, we'll testify that Judge Aldrich was guilty of blackmail?" Well, kind of, yes. The Anti-Bobby snarks about admiring Ellenor's fortitude, and starts yammering on about compromising his clients. They would not be lawyers, Ellenor points out, but witnesses. He then calls her insane. Which isn't very nice, frankly, because she's not insane -- a tad vindictive maybe, but certainly not insane. Lindsay takes over and cuts to the quick: the possible reinstatement of the $72 million settlement. She trumps the "risk factor" for a while, only to be interrupted by Anthony Hopkins pushing Lindsay to get to the real point. Ellenor: "For $6 million we'll drop the complaint against Judge Pickle-up-his-Ass." They volley some snappy comments, and then the Anti-Bobby essentially dismisses the two other lawyers. The Symphony of Possibly Insane Summonses rises as they part ways until tomorrow's hearing. Ellenor calls him an "ass," and he keeps up with his reputation of having the most nonsensical comebacks: "Tell a friend." Now, what the hell does that mean? And they'll tell two friends, and they'll tell two friends, oh, look everybody, we're in Kindergarten Court!
I sure do wish that Robert Downey, Jr. was on my show.
The Firm. Bobby's got his tie off and his shirt is ajar, exposing his chest hair. Gross. Almost as gross as the shower scene. Do we need any reminders of their naked skin -- no, I don't think so. Rebecca and Eugene are there for window dressing. We heighten the drama already strangling this show surrounding Scott Wallace. Bobby describes Scott's pseudo-breakdown, only to be interrupted by Lucy telling him their court date has been changed to Tuesday. The Defenders of Moral Injustices come into the scene. Lindsay tells her husband she's going to see Aldrich and try the "velvet glove." What is a velvet glove, and does it tilt at a windmill? Anyway, leave it to Eugene to be the Defender of the Obvious: "Do you really think this guy's going to listen to you after you filed a motion against him?"
Courthouse. We're back with DA Bedazzled and her bogus trial against Jennifer Cole. They waive reading and enter a plea of guilty pursuant to their agreement. Judge Spindle wants to "hear it." After hearing Susan's explanation of the charge, and asking Jennifer if Jimmy truly explained the nature of the charges, the judge blows their little conspiracy wide open and orders both of them into chambers. When she says "chambers," she rolls the word around her mouth like she was doing an imitation of Mel Gibson in Braveheart. It sounds like cham-brrrs.
Whoosh. Chambrrrs. Judge Spindle whips her head around so she's talking with her head forward but her back sort of turned away from Jimmy and Susan. Man, that can't be comfortable. She reads them the riot act about their plea agreement; in fact, she sees "no reason for a defense attorney to surrender" when the prosecution's case is so weak. DA Susan puts up a brick wall: "I don't believe you have the right to change a plea agreement." She does have the right to reject one, especially when the two lawyers, forcing ethical boundaries, conspired to keep a relatively innocent crackhead in jail. She rails on Jimmy for a while, accusing him of being unethical and of not "zealously" protecting the rights of his clients. The judge raises her voice and asks, "Mr. Berluti, did your client understand that she would probably not be convicted of the crime for which she was charged?" Jimmy loses his temper but basically cops to the conspiracy, and the judge throws both lawyers, and their plea bargain, out of her chambrrrs. The thickness of Jimmy's skull becomes an issue as he charges ahead, screaming at the judge about the effects of crack on babies. Judge Spindle threatens him with contempt, which seems to shut him up, if only for an instant. Oh, can you feel the tension mounting? Aren't we just waiting for the inevitable? The set-up is so apparent: Do you think she's going to do more crack? Do you think she's going to harm her baby? Absolutely. I'm going to erase "dramatic irony" from DEK's dictionary forever.
Chambers. Judge Aldrich is sitting high upon his horse as Lindsay explains that they really "don't want to go after him." He's very sarcastic. The rehash the events from Germ Warfare. The jury blew it, Judge Uppity had to step in, it was his duty. Lindsay's velvet glove just isn't working. Aldrich knows that Ellenor, and not the client, is behind the complaint. If she utters a word, or a "snort" as he says, about either his actions or the case, he'll charge her with contempt. Then he busts out some other threat about reporting her to the disciplinary committee. At least she can keep Jimmy company as they float down off their high moral pedestals together. Like I said, even the velvet glove couldn't reach the cucumber wedged up this guy's posterior.
Courthouse. Helen chases Richard down the hall. She has even smaller boobs than Ally McBeal and believe you me, I didn't think that was possible. Has this woman eaten in days, months, even years? Anyway, she wants to know if Richard has had the Wallace file removed from her office, which of course he has. They bicker for a while. An artist wearing oven mitts has applied her eye make-up -- it's that smudged. She reiterates that her actions against the Runt were not personal. He doesn't buy it and continues to give her the cold shoulder. Helen knows the score: "Suddenly I'm a piranha in the department and you're choosing to distance yourself. That's fine. But don't forget that your career was hanging by a thread a few months ago and I'm the one who stood with you." She calls him a hypocrite and a coward: "Please do take that personally." Richard attempts a stink-eye, but his face just barely reaches her non-existent breasts.
Whoosh. Jennifer Cole is mad and pregnant. And a crackhead. "You lied to me!" Jimmy wriggles under the pressure, but admits she has a good chance of kicking the case. He plays the moral card again: "You're still using. I'm trying to keep you safe." She doesn't budge. In fact, she fires Jimmy. And it's not one of those Helen firings where you actually get to keep your job. She asks him to leave, and he grudgingly does as she asks. Her hair is greasy again. The music swells as Jimmy asks for the guard and lets her stew for a while. You know, for a crackhead, she's strangely calm and collected after spending an entire night and almost another day in jail without a fix. In fact, she's the most well-adjusted drug addict I think I've ever seen. Way to go with the "reality" part of "realistic" television, DEK.
Courthouse. Ellenor's hearing. She presents her evidence in front of a large, looming panel of judges. A Judge Emmerson explains that judges try to steer decisions all the time; Ellenor responds that this wasn't steering but a threat. Judge Wanker wants to respond: "If I was guilty of poor judgment, it was allowing any award." Blah de blah I made the right decision, blah de blah Ms. Frutt should be happy with my generosity. Ellenor rebuts, "You chipped a $72 million award down to $400,000 out of a sense of charity?" It continues on like this for more than a few minutes, Ellenor states her case, and Judge Jackass refuses to concede any guilt.
Whoosh. Courthouse. Susan and Public Defender A are arguing Jennifer's case. He argues that the prosecution, in order to make their case, needs to show specific intent, and they have failed to do that here. Susan explains that intent can be inferred. Judge Spindle interrupts and does Public Defender A's job by insisting that the legislation does not refer to the ability of pregnant women to distribute cocaine to their fetus. Susan tries to get the judge to hold her over until the baby is born to protect the child; Spindle refuses. A Celebratory Crackhead March swells in the background as Spindle dismisses the charges and sets Jennifer free. She and her dirty hair brush past DA Susan, but are stopped at the door by The Lump: "Let's go." Jimmy says. Where? To rehab, we go, we go, we're off to rehab we go! She refuses, and charges right out the door into the nearest crack house. Come on, that's what you were thinking, right? We all know what's coming, people.
Courthouse. A Talking Head is yammering on about the track record of The Firm. You know he means that in a disparaging way, because he refers to them as "you people." It's never good when someone refers to you as "you people." The panel knows about The Firm's penchant for deceit. Ellenor responds by saying that while they may be "deceitful," they "always play by the rules." Now explain that contradiction. It's Aldrich who hasn't played by the rules, instead inflicting some "cowboy justice." Whatever that means. Lindsay pipes up to add that she too feels that it was blackmail: "He took away our Seventh Amendment right to a jury trial, and then he threatened us if we dared appeal. That's not the way it's supposed to work." The Panel blathers on about what a great guy Judge Meathead is, twenty years a meathead to be exact, and one judge maligns defense attorneys, saying that their "word" is essentially worth less than the judge's. Lindsay objects. She and Ellenor look desperately at one another as the music notes they might be in some trouble. One judge asks if they have anything else, and, on a whim, Ellenor calls Mitchell Kravitz, a.k.a. Anthony Hopkins to the stand. Lindsay whispers, "What are you doing?" Ellenor responds: "I have no idea!" And they swear AH in -- truth, the whole truth, you know the spiel.
Mr. Jamison's ears glow as the camera sweeps by him. Lindsay whispers, "What are you going to ask him?" Ellenor doesn't know, and then almost makes Lindsay ask him something until A Talking Head forces her to start questioning AH. They establish what AH was doing in chambers that day. She then asks AH to make a decision according to which version of the testimony they've all heard is more accurate. AH stumbles around the answer, complains that he's a lawyer, that he doesn't want to jeopardize his client, and is essentially ordered to answer by one of The Talking Heads. The Severity of the Situation Symphony starts to smoulder as Anthony Hopkins just stares at the Talking Head. He pauses until a second Talking Head reminds him "the court has asked him a question." And he responds, "I believe the truth lies somewhere in the middle." He's all tight and strange-looking. The Talking Heads aren't satisfied; he'll have to take a side. Hush now, for he whispers so softly he's barely audible: "Ms. Frutt." Lindsay stammers: "Omigod!" A violin screams out the mood, the Talking Heads gaggle, then ask for clarification: does AH honestly believe that Judge Aldrich is guilty of misconduct? AH responds by saying he thought Aldrich conducted a fair trial, but "what happened in his chambers after the verdict, while it wasn't blatant blackmail, it was definitely coercion." Judge Idiot tries to redeem himself, but to no avail. The Talking Heads take one for the team and reverse his ruling, reassign the case, and reinstate the original settlement. That'll teach you to practice that cowboy judgment, y'all. Some oboes wail in the distance as Mr. Jamison admits he's afraid to celebrate. Ellenor smiles, saying that's probably wise and explaining they're going to try to settle this with the EPA's lawyers. "Wow," he says, and that about says it all as we break for final commercials.
Hospital. It's the "like you couldn't see this coming" scene with Jimmy rushing down into the Maternity Ward. He greets the doctor, whose name is Josh, and wants to know what's going on. They abuse yet another privilege, the doctor-patient one, and he finds out that there was a partial placental abruption due to Jennifer's cocaine use. The baby was delivered -- she was only three and a half pounds. They simply don't know if the baby is going to be all right. There is a pathetic scene where Jimmy again lies to Jennifer about both the baby and what's going to happen to her, because when you're a drug addict, the truth will kill you. The plunking of the piano in the background just about kills me as Jennifer croaks that the doctors won't let her see her baby. You know, her skin is awfully clear for someone who lives on the streets and is addicted -- you got it -- to crack. Jimmy does his best to reassure her, tells her to get some rest, and then Jennifer asks that he not let social services take her baby away. Please, please tell me that Jimmy isn't going to pull a Mandy Patinkin on Chicago Hope and adopt this baby -- please, please, no. The camera pulls outside to pause on Jimmy looking at the newborns through the glass. You see a tiny baby attached to tubes, barely breathing on its own. I might have been moved, except you'd think that this baby would be in the NICU and not on full display for any happy-go-lucky onlooker to see. Hey, DEK. We. Get. It. It's bad to be pregnant and use drugs. We've had enough of the public service announcements, now get back to writing good quality television. ["'Back'?" -- Sars]
The end.
Eugene says, "on The Practice." We see Helen press play on a tape recorder, and then hear a 911 call from a wife accusing her husband of attacking her. The husband pleads with Rebecca -- he's never hit a woman. There's more of Scott Wallace. Like I said earlier, as the unjustly convicted are wont to do, he's simply losing it, and now he's too depressed to go to trial for his own appeal.