Previously on The Practice: Jackie Cahill is upset about having to spend thirty years in jail for an “accidental” murder. Richard is attacked and threatened in his garage. After Jackie is finally convicted, the Runt is gunned down in his car by a grandmother and her accomplice.
The Parking Garage of Pain. Third Watch impersonators flit about with stretchers and various other forms of lifesaving equipment. One paramedic explains that Richard “'Twas The Runt Before Execution” Bay has no breath sounds from the right. Detective Mike holds Helen “The Story Of Fuss” Gamble back as the paramedics “roll” Richard’s body out of the car. She pulls away from Mike and says, “I want to see him.” Mike says, “Helen.” She repeats, “I want to see him.” It’s a game of Tug-O-Waif. The Melody Of Multiple Gun Shot Wounds winds its way around the gray garage as the paramedics start “bagging” Richard. The body is bloody. There is blood covering his chest. There is blood covering his head. There is blood all over his suit. Helen and Mike look gravely upon the body. Helen shakes her bony little head. There are no vitals. They call the time of death, and Helen looks rather upset. She chokes out a tear. Her method-acting interior monologue screams, “He’s dead! Oh. God! He’s dead!” As she looks to the left, she tears up again, then looks to the right, waits for a salty one to drop, lets her mouth fall open, and stands there in shock.
I would rather eat nails than listen to the theme song from The Practice. Okay, I know it’s lame, but it’s the end of the season.
The Firm Where They’ve Heard Of Pain. A somber mood overwhelms the office as various members of Team Rod go about their daily workday. Rebecca is packing up her briefcase. Yes, you heard me correctly. I said “Rebecca,” as in “she’s about to actually try a case instead of holding up the scenery.” She poignantly pauses as Rod emerges, looking disheveled, from his inner lair. He places a hand on Rebecca’s shoulder and meekly asks, “Are you okay?” She replies, “Yup.” Then Bobby demands she take a second chair. He tells Ellenor to go with her. Ellenor wants to go check on Helen. Rod insists that his wife can check on Helen. Ellenor again tries to pass the buck to Eugene. In that snotty “King of the Castle” tone, Rod replies, “I didn’t ask Eugene.” Ellenor asks him to ask Eugene. In front of the entire firm, they start bickering about who should go with Rebecca to this trial. Like there aren’t any other lawyers in Boston. Like there isn’t a little thing called a “continuance.” Like Rebecca even cared about Richard. Like the courthouse couldn’t have called a morning of mourning or something. Blah. Bobby and Ellenor continue to bicker until Rod screams, “Why don’t you just do it? Why do I have to fight?” All the time his arms are flailing about like the bullets from last week’s episode. Bam. Out goes the left. Bam. In comes the left. Bam. There goes the right again. The look on Ellenor’s face somewhat resembles the car too: it’s all bent up and out of shape. Lindsay tells Bobby to calm down. But then, in true Lump tradition, Jimmy jumps up and says he’ll second chair. Oddly, Rebecca doesn’t say a peep about Rod’s outburst. She and Jimmy beat a hasty retreat, leaving Eugene and Lindsay staring after Bobby as he walks back into his own personal kind of hell. Hey, do you think he’s taking this badly or what? Do you think he’s in a rage? Huh? And, why, oh why, is everything always each time forever and ever amen ABOUT BOBBY?
The County Jail That Smarts With Jackie’s Pain. A nameless guard leads Helen over to where Jackie’s cell is located. Then she tells the guard to “beat it.” Helen’s heels hit the floor hard as she walks down the hallway. Jackie is sitting on the bed in that prisoner position -- you know, like all the boys from Oz. Helen gives him the cold-fish look. You know, that one where’s she’s a bitch with a vendetta instead of just a regular bitch? Jackie says snidely, “Don’t even bother.” Then he looks away. “I’m represented by counsel.” Hah! She tells him that Bobby’s no longer his lawyer. He tells her to get him somebody else. Helen replies, “I didn’t hear that.” Blah you’re going to tell me who the shooters are blah. Jackie gets up and stretches his body around the bars. He wants to know what she’s going to give him for the information. Helen snorts, “Your life.” Pause. The Jig Of Jackie Cahill is like an electric jolt. Ouch. Oh! The floor is hot! Oh! Feet burning! Ouch! Okay, right, recapping: Helen starts off her bargaining by blackmailing Jackie. See, she’s set up a press conference, and at that press conference she’s going to announce that Jackie agreed to tell the DA’s office who shot Richard. On top of that, she’s also going to tell the press that Jackie gave up all of the other scumballs he does business with -- oh, and then she’s going to release him into the general population. And then, in the words of Helen “Driven” Gamble, “[He’ll] be dead.” Jackie scoffs, “Yeah. Right.” Does he want to call her bluff? Her eyeliner could not be worse in this scene. It looks like roadkill set to burn in the midday sun. Just before she walks away, she says to him, “You are a dead man.” Jackie seems taken with Helen’s offer, because he tells her to get him a lawyer first, and then he’ll consider things.
The Trial For The Totally Irrelevant. Some dude who looks like a caricature of Dave Eggers rambles on about being innocent. His name is Wendell. He and Rebecca, his lawyer, are discussing a deal offered by the DA’s office. Rebecca explains that the offer doesn’t have anything to do with what the prosecution believes, but how they feel about the case. Well, he wants to reject the offer. That’s his right. If he pleads guilty, people will think he killed his wife. Rebecca just wants to make sure he understands that he’s risking a life sentence if he goes to trial. Oh, the shock, somebody hold me back, I’m stunned. A client of The Firm’s actually wants to go to trial. Yawn.
The Firm Where Bobby Wallows In His Pain. Eugene gives the “there was nothing you could do” speech. Rod replies by giving him some of his cases. See, Bobby “The Emperor’s New Blues” Donnell is going to take some time off. Because Richard’s death is all about him. How long? Bobby says, “Maybe indefinitely.” Eugene doesn’t think that’s a good idea, but Ragdoll does. Go with my blessing Bobby -- go. Eugene thinks they “need” Bobby’s leadership because everyone’s trying to hold it together, and there are times when the people just need their leader. Then Eugene’s eyes turn black and roll back into his head from the pressure to hold up his leader all the time. That’s right, the PRESSURE.
Helen’s Office Of Organized Non-Crime. Helen wipes the floor with some lawyer named Powell. She says the offer is only good for one hour. Powell wants it in writing. Helen repeats that he has an hour. Powell complains. Wah, this is extortion, wah, you hung a snitch jacket on my client, wah, and it is a death threat. Helen: “Mr. Powell, if you’re turning down the deal then get out.” She sits at her desk. He caves, “Run it by me again.” But first Jackie gets immunity for Bay’s murder. Thirsty Powell the Nerd refuses to admit that his client had anything to do with that awful turn of events. Yeah, right -- he just happens to know who did murder the Runt. Helen’s hair is sticking out all over the place. It’s trying to run out of the bun. It simply can’t take it any more. Thirsty Powell asks, “What about his life sentence?” The DA replies that they’ll cut it to twenty years. How is she going to pull that off? Helen explains that Thirsty Powell will bring a motion to vacate the sentence, and she’ll support it. Does she think a judge will sign off? Of course, if said judge knows the deal was made to capture a district attorney killer, they’ll sign off on it. Helen’s got it all worked out. Thirsty Powell says he’ll take it to Jackie; the DA insists he get right on it, but not before she threatens, “The general prison population awaits [his client].”
Boring, Totally Unnecessary Plotline Of Pain. Blah dee uniform cop got to the house blah, Mrs. Foresly was lying beside the pool blah, blah dee she had no vitals blah. Yes, this woman willingly married a man named Wendell Foresly and then changed her name. Mr. Foresly was soaking wet. He’d just arrived home from work; he found his wife in the pool and then tried to get her out. The DA asks what time the cops arrived at the house. The uniform cop says it was just before ten. DA Bullock, a.k.a. Ellen’s Dad, interviews Wendell’s neighbour . She saw him come home before eight. You know how she knows this? She’s positive. She was waiting for her dog to shit -- oops, I mean, “have his bowel movement,” before eight, because she wanted to get back inside to see Boston Public. Hum -- dog crap, BP, do we make the necessary connections? Along with a totally unnecessary storyline, DEK is now incessantly plugging his other shows in totally irrelevant ways. How does he stand the contrivance? How can he stand himself? I guess rolling around in piles and piles of money sort of isolates you from the regular world. Rebecca cross-examines Mrs. Mosher. Apparently, they’d been neighbours for three years. She describes Wendell as “gentle” and “kind.” The relationship with his wife had never been anything but loving. They never fought, and she never witnessed Wendell become violent in anyway.
The Hallway Where They Discuss Needless Amounts Of Pain. Jimmy thinks they should have pressed Mrs. Mosher harder on the time issue. Rebecca thinks the witness was too strong. Now, was BP running late that night? Rebecca checked; it wasn’t. The Lump isn’t convinced Ole Wendell is telling the truth. His co-counsel spouts the party line: Wendell was in shock. Oh, and he’s innocent. Yeah, the fact that Wendell was confused about the time he got home is the only reason he’s on trial. His dead wife is, of course, of no consequence. Are there any wives alive in Boston by the end of this season?
Jackie’s Cellblock Of Pain. Jackie “Cry Baby” Cahill, complete with teardrop tattoo, sits with one foot on the wall and the other on the floor as Helen stomps toward his cell. She hands Thirsty Powell a file. Thirsty Powell says the deal is conditional on Jackie only giving up the shooter. Helen wants everyone who was remotely involved in Richard’s murder. Jackie says quietly, “There was just one guy.” Helen: “A witness saw a woman driving the car.” Yeah, that was Booming Granny, the shooter’s mother. They live together. They commit crimes together. You know the drill. Thirsty Powell barks at the folder because it says thirty years instead of twenty. Helen doesn’t even blink an eye: “Amend it. If it turns out anyone else is involved, the deal is off.” The defense attorney amends the deal, asks Helen to sign the papers, and finally, after all the finagling, Jackie gives up the shooter. His name is Bruce Manning, and he lives in the south end of Boston. That’s all Helen needs and she’s off, clomping her way back out of the cellblock and into some trouble.
Sarah Jessica Parker + hair-colour commercials = bad.
Helen’s Office Where She Wallows In Her Fake Pain. Lindsay comes in and puts a hand on Helen’s shoulder. I shudder. She sits. No one thinks Helen is fine. Lindsay wants to know why she’s even working. O Helen La Martyr says she has things to do. Lindsay: “You’re giving the eulogy?” Helen says mournfully, “One of them.” Just take the lance and drive it all the way through the heart. Oh, yeah, ouch, right, there, that’s the death spot, please hurry, I can’t take this crap any longer, contrivance, oh damn, there she goes again. Helen starts rambling on about how “just yesterday” she and Lindsay were just “kids in school,” and I could bleed to death from a pinprick faster then this scene is played. Blah they were talking about their dreams, barf and blah. La dee da Lindsay’s married, blah dee blee she’s a mother, blah dee blah they’ve had friends killed. Oh, they are just not kids anymore. That’s because The Practice sucks the inner child right out of you, and I used to like my inner child.
Wendell’s Throbbing Trial Of Pain. A coroner is testifying. He determined that Mrs. Foresly died from asphyxiation due to drowning. Judge Beautiful looks coy. She does that well. The coroner found bruising around her neck, so they ruled the death a homicide. Cut to Rebecca’s cross-examination. She pulls out a lot of possibles: it’s possible she hit her head before drowning; it’s possible the bruises were post-mortem. The coroner does admit this is remotely possible.
The Courthouse Of Painful Legacies. Helen accosts a police captain, who offers his condolences for her loss. For some reason, everyone is deferring to Helen like she’s a freaking widow or something. They were just co-workers, and up until about four episodes ago, they hated each other. Helen explains the situation: she’s gotten Jackie to agree to a tentative deal. She hands off the name and address of Richard’s murderer to this captain, who is not Detective Mike. Then Helen yammers on about how the shooter won’t hesitate to take hostages or shoot his way out of a situation. This captain looks like Ed Bundy. The DA suggests to the POLICE CAPTAIN that they apprehend the shooter outside at night. They have a good chance to do so, because he leaves for work around nine. The captain verifies that the information comes from Cahill, which is complete crap, because we all saw Helen walk away after Jackie gave up the name and address. He never said anything about a night job or a particularly violent hit man. Helen also tells the captain that the subject “carries at all times,” so the cop should be sure his men “protect themselves.” Without suggesting, oh, I don’t know, that the POLICE INVESTIGATE, this captain merely falls prey to Helen’s apparent charms: “We’ll take him tonight.” They part, but not without an uneasy feeling in my stomach.
Oh, Wendell Testifies To Pain. Blah his wife was face down in the pool, blah he jumped in to get her, and he tried to resuscitate her, but it was no use. Rebecca, wanting to prove the bruises were post- and not pre-mortem, leads Wendell into explaining that he tried twice to pull his wife out of the pool. The first time was unsuccessful; he grabbed her arm but couldn’t get any “leverage.” Did you grab her neck while trying to get her out of the pool? Perhaps. How long did it take him to actually get her out of the pool? He admits that it might have taken him a few minutes. The first time he went down he was “unsuccessful” and had to come back up to the surface for air. All told, it might have been a few minutes before he was able to cart the body out of the water. Judge Kittleson does not look impressed. Rebecca continues -- does Wendell remember what he did after he pulled her out of the pool? Yes. He tried to revive her, and then he called 911. Insert totally gratuitous replaying of the emergency call here. Insert Song Of Solemnity here as said gratuitous tape plays. Insert stupid, redundant question by defense attorney, tie it all up with a little confusion by the client as to the time of his wife’s death, and you pretty much have all you need to know. Cut to DA Bullock completely dismantling the client’s “oh I was in shock” defense. Rebecca objects to Bullock’s sarcasm, and the judge sustains the objection. The DA asks Wendell if Mrs. Foresly was a good swimmer. This too is a redundant question, as the prosecutor goes on to remark that Mrs. Foresly was a competitive swimmer in college. Bullock goes on to poke some more holes in Wendell’s already faulty defense. Blah his office is at the other end of the house, blah what made him think his wife was in the pool, blah why didn’t he think she was in her room, blah Bullock you made your point blah.
A Night That Awaits Pain. A strange bell tolls somewhere deep in the Boston night. Rats scurry around through garbage. A barrage of heavily armed and SWAT-orientated officers take their positions around a building. Many of them aim. Many of them cock their rifles just to be ready. Suddenly, a car door opens. There is a sharp intake of breath. A captain asks a lawyer what the hell she’s doing there. The lawyer makes a lame excuse about wanting to make sure no fourth-amendment rights are violated. The captain lets this pass, although he does wonder how the lawyer made it past the checkpoints. Well, she is a district attorney, and she does have a great pair of legs, and, you know, this is television; there are no boundaries here. She is warned to keep her distance. The car door is shut. Pause. Pause. Pause. Heightened pause. More pausing. Even more pausing. A door opens, and a man comes out into the night. A voice from the distance screams, “Bruce Manning!” Another voice yells, “Freeze!” Yet another voice bellows, “Hold it!” and “Get down!” Suddenly, as Bruce Manning starts to hold up his hands, someone else shrieks, “Gun!” And it’s all guns blazing. Pow-pow. Puh-pow. Pow. Puh-pow. Bruce is jerked back and forth until he finally falls to the ground. Nah, come on, Bruce wasn’t holding a gun -- he was holding a freaking cell phone. First of all, if Jackie had warned him about the police “sting,” Bruce probably wouldn’t have gone out his front door; in fact, he probably would have skipped town by now. Helen’s mouth is open again, as per usual when she’s “acting” serious. Mrs. Manning comes out to the front stoop and starts asking what’s happening. She starts to cry, and then Helen arrests her for felony murder. It was a cold, cold night in Boston.
Hellenor’s. There is no sign of a baby. Ellenor is doing work. She doesn’t look tired. She doesn’t look sad. She just looks like Ellenor. Helen relays the events of the evening. Helen’s lipstick is very glossy for this late in the workday. By that time of night, I’ve already got black liner smeared down half my face, my lips are parched and chapped from recycled air, and I’ve changed into my boyfriend’s relatively unattractive jogging pants. Helen admits that it made her feel better to see the man responsible for sending the Runt into reruns in the sky killed, but you can tell Ellenor is concerned. The doorbell rings. See, if my doorbells rings that late into the night, I look so bad I’m embarrassed to go and answer it -- that’s how bad I look at the end of the day. It’s Detective Mike. He’s pissed. Wah, why didn’t you tell me this was going down, wah, the man didn’t have a weapon, wah, execution, and wah. Mike’s the only one seeing things realistically here; he’s got Vendetta Vision. It worked for him when he accused the Emperor of going to far with the Lindsay/stalker plot, and it’s working for him now. Mike: “This was the equivalent of a hit.” Helen snarks, “I have to take a different legal point of view there, Mike, but you know if it gets out there on the street, whack a DA and this is what happens, I can live with that.” She has Mini-Groucho Marx eyebrows. They are scary. Mike says there’s going to be an investigation. Helen thinks that's fine. She wants Mike to make sure he tells her when to show up wearing white. Huh? Okay, whatever, Helen -- if it makes you feel better to appear virginal, we’ll give you that little comfort. Then Mike asks about the deal Helen made with Cahill. All he gets is a Stone Cold Gamble in response. The Vendetta Vision will only get you so far, my friend.
The Conference Room Of Wendell’s Pain. With Wendell and Jimmy in the room, Rebecca explains how the testimony for tomorrow consists of their experts. These doctors will explain away all of the prosecution’s evidence. Lucy, forever on call as a receptionist/counselor/waitress, interrupts the meeting to let Rebecca know that the DA has arrived. The lawyer says, “Now?” The “assistant” responds, “He says it’s important.”
Bullock is waiting in Bobby’s office for the two of them. He thanks them for seeing him, and then admits that the situation is “slightly embarrassing.” Jimmy cracks, “What? You caught the real killer?” Bullock doesn’t flinch: “You could say that, Jimmy.” Rebecca wants to know what’s going on. Well, it seems that Wendell has an alias. That means he changed his name from something to Wendell. Of all the names to pick, why would you pick that one? Why not something sexier? Apparently, Wendell’s real name is Peter Bryant, and he was arrested six years ago in Indiana for strangling his wife. The Theme Of Tripped-Up Tales trips over itself to get into the scene. Rebecca looks shocked. Heh -- not only did Wendell, a.k.a. “Peter,” move to Boston to make a new life for himself, but he also left another tasty morsel of life’s adventures behind: he strangled an eleven-year-old girl when he was fourteen and served time until he was twenty-one. To make matters worse, the DA simply has to inform Rebecca that Wendell the Wunderkind also used to strangle chickens. That’s right. He used to trespass onto farms and kill hundreds of chickens. I’ll bet the cast of Chicken Run wasn’t too happy to hear that tidbit.
Cut to Jimmy and Rebecca entering the conference room. They are still being serenaded by the music. Wendell wants to know “what’s up.” As if he didn’t have a clue. Wendell, I mean, Peter, I mean, Wendell looks at the file Jimmy tosses on the table. He says he was acquitted. Jimmy walks around the table while explaining how the DA is going to try to get Wendell/Peter’s priors admitted. Rebecca is strangely quiet. Wendell looks down at his hands and asks, “Is manslaughter still on the table?” Feeling cheeky, the Lump quips, “Wanna tell us about the chickens?” Heh.
Jackie’s Joint, Where He Prays For Pain. Helen, in her best funeral blacks and a string of Jackie O pearls, walks up to Jackie’s cell. Of course, Jackie is posed in some prison stance, looking pissed. He says, “You killed him?” Helen explains to Jackie that she’s not satisfied that he turned over everyone involved in Richard’s murder. Effectually, she nullifies the deal they signed yesterday. Now, in addition to looking pissed, Jackie actually is pissed. Oh, Thirsty Powell is there too. Jackie seethes as his lawyer screams, “We have a signed agreement.” Helen doesn’t care. She’s got The Vendetta to keep her warm. Oh, and a nice comfy comforter neatly spun from Contrivance for those nights when the thermometer dips below zero. Thirsty Powell informs Helen that he’s going to take her to court for breaking their contract. Jackie threatens, “You don’t think I can hit you from inside?” He grabs onto the bars, wishing he could bend them like Superman. She walks back to finish him off: “I was so hoping you were going to say that.” Clomp, clomp, and she’s off to bury her buddy.
Kittleson’s Chamber Of Restricting The Pain. Jimmy and Bullock argue on and on about the prior bad acts. Jimmy makes a case for the fact that Wendell/Peter’s juvenile records are sealed, ensuring that only one act is effectively able to be entered into the court’s record, and one strangulation does not a serial killer make. Bullock wants the records in; he argues that Wendell/Peter’s going to kill again. Kittleson can almost guarantee that fact, but she bound and tied by the law -- the prior bad acts simply aren’t admissible. Bullock whines, “So we’re just going to pretend this didn’t happen?” Kittleson rules for Team Chicken Killer. Of all people, it’s Rebecca who really doesn’t like the ruling; she leaves the judge’s chambers with a pained look on her face.
Just outside Kittleson’s chambers, Jimmy asks if Rebecca is all right. She sits on a bench and holds her hand to her chest. Ah, she’s upset about the Runt’s murder. Oh, there’s nothing like a senseless ratings-grabber-murder to force every single character on this show to face up to his or her own mortality. Yawn. Poor Rebecca -- she really needed this one to be innocent. She needed this client to justify her existence as a defense attorney. There are tears in her eyes. Oh, Rebecca’s talents are so wasted on this tripe. With her voice wavering, Rebecca continues her woe-is-me speech: “Jimmy. He’s going to kill again.” Of course he’s going to kill again. He’s a serial killer. He murders innocent chickens, for god’s sake. Thank goodness Jimmy’s got a head on his shoulders. He says the fact that Wendell is a nutcase isn’t something they should be thinking about. Rebecca doesn’t like this answer, and she starts screaming, “It’s not even something we should be thinking about!” And “What are we doing then Jimmy?” I see: DEK only trots Rebecca out during the really dramatic scenes.
The Courtroom Where They Hold Up Helen’s Quest For Pain. Thirsty Powell whines about Helen breaking “basic contract law.” Then he blathers on about due process and how Jackie deserves the benefit of what he “bargained” for. He says that Helen has acted in “blatant bad faith,” and brings up the fact that Richard’s murderer is now dead. Helen argues that their investigation of Bay’s murder has been severely undermined by the death of the shooter. Odd -- I didn’t think they had been conducting an investigation. She brings up the fact that Jackie ordered the hit on Bay and has since threatened her in the same manner. Essentially, Helen’s argument is that Jackie’s a bad-ass and she’s a lawyer; that seems to be enough explanation for totally going back on your word, but, then again, being honourable has never been one of her strong points.
Just outside the courtroom, Helen runs into Bobby. He still looks frumpy and disheveled. The Reality Of The Job has really gotten to him. He says, “I’m sorry. I know how close you two were.” Oh, Bobby feels responsible about Richard’s death. Of COURSE he feels responsible for Richard’s death, because EVERYTHING is within the realm of his responsibility. Helen ends up comforting HIM. Oh Bobby, for the love of Elvis Costello, please get over your damn self. Helen asks if he’s okay, he’s not, both of their eyes well up with Actor Tears, and then they embrace.
We Must Finish This Trial. Rebecca makes her closing arguments. For being so cracked up about what a crackpot her client is, she does a great job. By the end of her speech, you can tell the jury is on her side. There is a strong tenacity to Rebecca’s voice as she claims the prosecution really doesn’t have any sustainable evidence. Then she explains away what little physical evidence they do have. Shock goes a long way as a defense for murder. Bullock gives it a good try, but the decision is already made. This wouldn’t be The Practice if justice were actually served.
Somewhere over the rainbow, skies are blue. Honest. It’s almost over. Helen and Thirsty Powell rise as Judge White enters the courtroom. The judge has reviewed the contract. He thinks Helen’s promises were against public policy, regardless of whether or not they’ve been upheld. Blah the contract might even be unenforceable, blah Massachusetts’ laws blah, only a jury shall determine a degree of murder blah, but plea bargains are upheld everyday. Ms. Gamble’s deceit/trickery/bad faith is against public policy. BUT he still honours the plea agreement. AND the judge tacks on seventy-five years just because Jackie threatened to kill Helen. It would be nice if a sense of higher justice were upheld instead of the judge’s decisions always bowing to Helen’s own moral standards. Sometimes, it’s almost as if she built the legal system upon which they all stand. Thirsty Powell walks up to Helen and snarks, “You think you honoured Richard Bay in all of this? You think that cowboy up there just ratified you?” Helen tells him to go away. He doesn’t listen: “Richard Bay was a man of integrity.” Ha. “He was a man of his word.” Ha! "He honoured the law.” Ha. Helen complains that she has to go to a funeral. Thirsty Powell hopes that she pays tribute to the Runt there, because neither she nor the judge did so in court today.
Rebecca twiddles with an elastic band while she and Jimmy wait with The Man Of The Chicken Massacre for their verdict. Wendell gets “the feeling” that she doesn’t really want him to win. Jimmy “Sherlock Homely” Berluti takes this moment to do a little investigative reporting. He wants to know what Wendell/Peter’s motive was for murdering his wife. We take this moment to make ourselves a cup of tea. Then we do a load of laundry. And then we vacuum and dust. Water the plants. Make a cake. Develop some photographs. In fact, we do anything just to avoid DEK’s ode to the insane. Blah Wendell was turned on by the power, blah life is a delicate thing he held in his hands, blah it was alive, blah until he strangled it. The Strings Of Strangulation power up. He and his wife were kissing. Barf. She seemed so “alive,” so of course he had to kill her. The guard interrupts his confession by announcing the jury has returned with their verdict.
Where they find him not guilty. Kittleson dismisses the defendant and the jury. Wendell/Peter thanks Rebecca, who turns to him desperately: “You need help, Wendell.” Oh, he’d go to a therapist, he really would, but they might tell someone and he doesn’t want to risk going to jail. He claims he can control himself, thanks Rebecca again, and then leaves. It’s that simple. Wendell lives on, free to strangle another unsuspecting barnyard animal.
The Final Resting Place Of Richard’s Pain. Oh. Good. Lord. The coffin is draped in an American flag. The church is outrageously huge. Helen has to take WWF Monster Steps up to the pulpit. Helen’s eulogy is the biggest piece of crap I’ve heard in a long time. And it’s totally anticlimactic for a season finale. I never thought I’d be saying this, but where is a habit-wearing, Ellenor-stalking serial killer when you need one? Oh, Richard was a DA; he was a public servant who left behind a legacy of truth, justice, and integrity. Yeah, that’s all true, except the "truth, justice, and integrity" part. As Helen blathers on about how she’s crapped all over Richard’s legacy in the past few days, the camera pauses on each member of the cast, one by freaking one. She throws in “public servant” about sixteen times before she gets to the honest truth: a lot of people didn’t like Richard, but he considered them friends anyway. Those people are some of Helen’s best friends, because, in essence, even the death of the Runt is somewhat about her. Honestly, at least she’s not quoting Dylan Thomas. Then she starts yammering on about how fantastic it is to be a defense attorney, how they fight for the rights of the innocent, and how “those people,” not-so-loosely translating to “Bobby,” have come to doubt themselves in the wake of Richard’s death. Wow. Apparently, Richard never doubted the beast known as “the defense attorney.” In fact, he respected them enormously. Yeah, in between calling them rats, snakes, or despicable, horrible, unconscionable pathetic losers, he really thought the world of The Firm. When he wasn’t kicking people in the shins, he was really looking out for the innocent and not just a pathological DA on the warpath. Helen chokes back some fake tears. Blah apparently Richard confided in Helen a final wish: if he died, he wanted everyone to know he tried his “very best.” If Heath Ledger can travel back to the fourteenth century and still be singing Queen, I guess Hollywood can make anything plausible. Okay, maybe they can’t. It’s a good thing I went to the dentist today and can’t eat solid foods or else they’d be all over my keyboard right about now. Blah Richard was a kind man, a man who was a dedicated PUBLIC SERVANT. There is a choir. I think they probably confused themselves for a minute and ended up here instead of on Ally McBeal. The choir sings. There are non-poignant moments of various cast members touching the coffin. There is a Richard montage. Is Jason Kravits dead in real life? I thought crap like this was reserved for the Oscars. Then the episode ends with a walking shot of the cast like that scene from Armageddon -- you know, when all the rock-drilling fake astronauts prepare to blast off and save the earth. The choir sings “we’ll never get to heaven until you reach that day” as the camera moves past the Emperor, pauses defiantly on his regal head, and on to Rebecca and then Eugene. After what seems like an hour, we fade into black. The freaking end, and we’ll see you season.