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Veronica goes in for jury duty (Happy Birthday, Citizen!) and gets tied up in a case about a possible prostitute, her possible pimp, and the two 09er boys who beat her up in a hotel room. As foreman, Veronica must shepherd a gang of stereotypes of a caliber not seen since the very thrilling movie Speed, while avoiding constant contamination from the entire town, from the Weevil gang to her own "helpful" father. Intensely data-rich exposition is the watchword as we learn that...there are tensions in Neptune between the rich and poor, and between the 09ers and minorities. In case you missed the memo. Veronica also manages to piss off pretty much everybody in town when the girl's attackers are not acquitted, becoming once more brutally unpopular, and even she says something like, "Season 1 much?" Maybe she'll cut her hair off again. Meanwhile, Meg's wakeful and pregnant ass informs Duncan that the baby is his, and then goes ahead and makes it Veronica's responsibility as well, if anything should happen to her. Although it's mentioned that Meg's parents are not the best at raising small children, nobody mentions how that crappy parenting extends to locking children in secret closet rooms. It's a matter of détente, which is important at the end of the episode. Over in the A-Plot, Keith hears that the Aaron Echolls/Lilly Kane sex tapes have gone missing, and has to traverse not only the naked pornographic Health And Fitness antics of a seriously excitable Sheriff Lamb, but also his daughter's romantic Rogue's Gallery. Good news: we get to see Leo! Bad news: Keith gets him fired, when it's discovered that he was the one who stole the tapes, to get a small amount of money for his sister to go to private school. That part I was not so happy about, because I love Leo, but it was funny to see Keith going, "Every single thing that's happened this season had to do with sabotaging Aaron's prosecution, so can you really blame me for assuming?" But who did good old Leo sell them to? No, not the internet: that would have meant actually making some money. It was Logan, of course, who heartrendingly watches the videos, tears running down his face, and then degausses the tapes just in time for Keith to show up and get really intense about it. To review? Logan watched tapes of his father screwing his girlfriend preceding his murder of her. And Logan looked fantastic doing this. I'd say this would screw him up, but there's a whole glass-ceiling effect there. Then Meg, who is mad beautiful, and wonderfully acted in this episode, and I'd never really noticed her before, but now I will really miss her...dies. I'm not sold that this is simply a random occurrence, but more importantly, her daughter is now likely to be shipped off to Miss Thwartingham's School For Cult Indoctrination And Laughter Quashing, or else join the cast of The People Under The Stairs, so Veronica's going to have to go to bat for her boyfriend's illegitimate child, which: drag. Sometimes being a superhero is a real drag. Then WALLACE COMES HOME! Not at all a drag! Want more? The full recap starts right below!
Neptune High. A knit-cap-wearing Veronica sits at an outdoor table and picks at a Christmas cake as VMVO tells us that her holiday spirit has yet to kindle. Duncan shows up and joins her, and they're not doing his reputation any favors by having him appear off the word "kindle." Duncan's cheery, because why wouldn't he be, until Veronica tells him that she saw Meg. Duncan's all, "What? Who? Where?," and I'd think he was just buying time to get his thoughts in order, but given that he was happily toting around a baby in the last episode, it's possible that he's really forgotten. You have to admit that both theories have something to recommend them. Veronica tells Duncan that Meg's pregnant, and Duncan, after a moment, says he knows. Veronica parrots that back to him, sounding somewhat but maybe not completely surprised, and Duncan tells her about the letter, which he says was from Meg's aunt in Seattle; Meg had asked to live up there and raise the baby. So Duncan supposedly only found out about the pregnancy via the letter? Then why did he react so badly when Veronica asked him about the frequent hospital visits, and what made him go looking for the letter in the first place? Yeah, I'll keep questioning Duncan's actions and motivations until he becomes consistent or I end up in an institution. I'm still hoping for the former, but if it's the latter, I hope at least they don't serve donuts for breakfast. Veronica's horrified, more that Duncan didn't tell her than anything else, and Duncan lamely offers that it has nothing to do with "us," by which I take to mean "their relationship." Veronica: "Oh, no! Nothing. Your secret illegitimate child gestating in the womb of your comatose ex-girlfriend affects neither you nor me." Good line, Veronica. Unfortunately, not being a comic geek, you didn't know that, much like the relationship between x-ray vision and lead, sarcasm is completely blocked by wood.
Before Duncan can fail to react, Dick appears, puts an arm around each of them, and invites them to the "New Year's bash of the century," which incidentally is only a week away. Veronica asks if Truman Capote knows about it, and Dick doesn't know who that is. I guess Dick isn't into art-house films, then. Now, that, at least, is an example of a consistent character. Duncan begs Sun Valley with the 'rents, but Dick says that's no comparison to "party boat" and "crazy Chinese pyro-guy." I...sort of agree, if only because it's fresh in my mind what a bad time Celeste is. Hanging out with someone with her personality in a ski setting is kind of overkill on the climate, you know? Dick gets up to go, but turns back to Duncan: "If you're not coming because of...tension [indicating Veronica, which HA] here, there's a chance an old flame might be there." Duncan doesn't know what he means, so Dick tells them Meg woke up, and will probably be partying in no time. I assume he doesn't know Meg's pregnant, although given his level of development, it's possible his parents believed in giving kids a high tolerance as early as possible. When Dick's gone, Duncan mutters that he should go see Meg, but Veronica pulls out the visitor's pass she had from the last episode, and says she'll make a copy and laminate it and they can go together. I'd wonder if her pass wasn't date-stamped, but as far as contrivances go, that's pretty minor. You'll see what I mean as this recap goes on. Duncan takes Veronica's hand, and suddenly everything's hunky-dory between them. Well, if Veronica keeps putting up with shit like this from Duncan, at least we'll get the question of what's at the bottom of a slippery slope answered.
Keith and The Woodman walk into the latter's office as The Woodman thanks Keith for coming. They sit down, and The Woodman tells Keith that Lamb called him and told him that the Haaron/Lilly sex tapes were stolen from the evidence rooms -- both the originals and copies -- and from separate safes. Keith asks if there was any sign of a break-in, but The Woodman tells him no, and that it has to be an inside job. Keith opines that this will put a huge dent in the prosecution's case, and that it won't stay secret long. The Woodman agrees, and asks Keith to head an "official independent inquest" to get the tapes back. Keith asks if, given his history with the department, he's the right guy for the job, but The Woodman opines that his history is precisely what makes him the right guy. The fact that he's the only PI game in town besides Vinnie Vanlowe probably doesn't hurt either. The Woodman asks what Keith says. Keith: "I say it sounds awkward and uncomfortable, but we need those tapes. How can I say no?" What's really awkward and uncomfortable is the job I've got to do on this episode after getting such a nice shout-out. The Woodman beams.
Hospital. The camera pans around a sleeping Meg. She opens her eyes to see Duncan, who kind of adorably and yet also a bit creepily says "Hi." Veronica pops up from a nearby chair and into Meg's view. Meg smiles and says, "Surprise!" I guess she's back to her old self. With a minor addition, that is. Duncan asks what they're going to do, and Meg tells him she doesn't know, but that her parents want her to put the baby up for adoption through an agency whose contracts are all about religious indoctrination and tough-love discipline. Given the black eyes and the crawl space in the closet, I have to wonder if we just learned the real story of where poor little Grace came from. Meg says she doesn't want her child brought up like that, and she seems pretty lucid and talkative about the whole situation given how emotional it must be for her. Oh, and given the MONTHS-LONG COMA and all. Duncan asks if he doesn't get any say, which, good question, but Meg says that her parents don't want him involved, and that their lawyers are digging up dirt on his epilepsy and blackouts and violent outbursts, ostensibly to prove he'd be an unfit parent. Well, those conditions haven't been mentioned all season, so I think Meg's parents should focus on something more recent. Perhaps they could tell the judge that they don't want the child learning line deliveries from Duncan. Seriously, though, medical history or not, Duncan is the father, which, like it or not, carries a lot of weight, and if he wanted to mount a legal pursuit of custody, I think he'd have a good chance of success, especially given how stinking rich he is. I don't necessarily expect him to know that, but I hope he at least talks to a lawyer. Perhaps Cliff's higher-end yet-just-as-snarky brother?
A nurse enters and tells Duncan and Veronica to shoo, but Meg asks Veronica to remain for a moment. Meg apologizes for her bitchy behavior in the season premiere, saying that she knew she was pregnant, and that it was hard to see Veronica with Duncan, but Veronica tenderly says that Meg doesn't have to say anything. Veronica, it's a nice sentiment, but you might not want to get in the way of Meg's words, if you take my meaning. Meg asks for a favor: if anything happens to her, Veronica must not let Meg's parents send the baby away to that institution, and above all, she can't let them keep it. Well, I'd imagine if Meg avoided having her mother suffocate her with a pillow, she's got to be safe, right?
Chez Mars. Veronica arrives home, and Keith tells her she's late. Veronica says that that was the idea, since if she came home late, there was less time for her day to get worse. Well, there's also less time for it to get bet...oh, I'm sorry. Sometimes in the recapping haze, I momentarily forget what show I'm watching. Keith asks if lasagna and ice cream would improve Veronica's mood, and she says yes, but warily asks why he's being so nice. He hands over an official-looking document as he asks if she wants chocolate chip mint or butter pecan. She rips off the perforated edges to discover that it's a jury-duty summons, and Keith sympathetically says he'll get both flavors. Yeah, that sucks, Veronica, but if you take my advice, you'll get it over with. It's a little-known corollary of Murphy's Law that, if you defer, the time you get called will be twice as inconvenient. Credits.
An overhead shot of a jury room in fast time shows the jurors entering and taking seats as VMVO tells us that jury duty over Christmas break illustrates "a commitment to the sacred ideal of drive-through express justice." A graying middle-aged man stands and tells the group that the first order of business is to elect a foreman; he asks for volunteers, and apparently even the crickets and tumbleweeds wouldn't touch this job with a ten-foot pole. The dude then suggests, since he feels that it's an open-and-shut case, that they pick Veronica, so that she can learn about civic responsibility. I'm not sure I like his "how about you lead us, little lady" attitude, but it pales in comparison to some baseball-cap-wearing middle-aged doofus's smarmy vote of "Absolutely." I wonder if he even looked up from his copy of the latest Barely Legal to hear the closing arguments. ["Since it's The Todd, my guess is that he didn't." -- Wing Chun] Anyway, the vote is unanimous. Don't get used to that.
Close-up on Lamb, who appears to be pumping iron as he tells Keith, who's off-screen, that he's made a lot of security improvements since Keith left. Yup, Donnie, you're doing a hell of a job. Lamb tells Keith that, instead of metal keys, the department now only uses magnetic keycards that they reprogram every couple of days. He asks Keith for a spot, and a wider shot reveals that Lamb is indeed benching -- and, what's more, is doing so in a black tank top. I guess the old saw "Post and ye shall receive" has some truth to it after all. Lamb checks his look in the mirror as he remarks that Keith should have pushed fitness more when he was sheriff. I don't see that it's a big problem, but I haven't seen Deputy Leo in a tank top yet. And after the events of this episode, probably never will (very sadly, SPOILER!). Keith deadpans that he was too busy with the crime fighting, which Lamb totally ignores in favor of grabbing a couple of dumbbells and going on to say that they have "Level One clearance" only for senior staff. I hope the senior staff doesn't forget the codes for when aliens invade the station and they have to self-destruct. Lamb says that there's no nighttime access to the evidence room without written permission from him. He then takes off his tank to reveal his sweaty upper body, and...oh, crap. I meant to tell you to go grab a paper bag before I got to that part. Lamb then plays with his drawstring like his pants are going to be the to go. You did get the paper bag, right? Keith asks if Lamb is telling him that "the Neptune sheriff's department is a locked down, squared-away citadel of security?" Lamb opines that that description is a little flowery, and coming from a guy who's working out shirtless in front of another guy and who also looks like he shaves his body hair, that's saying something. After a little more banter, Keith tells Lamb that he'll need unrestricted access to Lamb's staff at all times, as well as personal information about everyone that works there. Lamb is uncharacteristically pliant for much of this scene, but the flash in his eyes as he smarms, "No problem, buddy -- just say how high" gives away that while he knows he has to play along, he doesn't like having a hand up the back of his shirt. So to speak. And that's all you'll be seeing of Lamb this week, but I'm going to go out on a limb and say that it sufficed.
Jury Room Of Anywhere But Here. The guy who picked Veronica (referred to as "Captain of Industry" on the IMDb) says he's not sure if there's any need to deliberate at all, and if he thinks that, I don't know why he bothered picking Veronica to be foreman in the first place, unless he's dying for her to read the verdict aloud in court. Of course, given that an acquittal might bring retaliation from the Mexican community, maybe I'm on to something there. Veronica hesitantly opines that a quick review of the facts couldn't hurt, so after some not-so-subtle sighing from just about everyone else in the room, C of I announces that the defendants are two twenty-one-year-old 09ers, "Robbie McKinnon and Hunter Hayes," who are charged with aggravated assault in the beating of a twenty-five-year-old Mexican woman, whose first name I think is "Aneesa," although I can't confirm that because her character wasn't in the credits. We see the mug shots of the boys, and a photo of Aneesa in the hospital. She's got some nasty bruises and cuts on her face, but for the sake of thoroughness I'll note that she's not going to need plastic surgery or anything to heal. The boys may, though, if the jury votes to acquit. According to the prosecution, Aneesa missed her bus after getting off work at the "Elite Touch" car wash in downtown Neptune, so she decided to hitchhike, and the boys picked her up. They smoked some pot, which a no-nonsense woman with a Hispanic accent to C of I is quick to clarify was theirs and not Aneesa's. C of I goes on to say that the 09ers invited her to come to a motel with them so that they could "party" some more. No-Nonsense Woman adds, "With Ecstasy, also theirs." C of I ignores this and says the boys struck Aneesa as harmless, so she accepted, but when they got to the room, they asked her for sex. A black woman juror to C of I pipes up to say that the boys got so aggressive that Aneesa became frightened and tried to leave. It's nice of the show to provide some diversity along with the exposition, but I'd point out that if they're trying to give out SAG cards, it would be more efficient if they all just voted verbally. C of I says that Hayes allegedly then pulled a gun and got Aneesa back inside, where McKinnon punched and kicked her. I guess they didn't get around to popping the Ecstasy, then. We see crime-scene photos showing blood on the sheets and walls as C of I goes on to say that Hayes put the gun on the bedside table and got on top of Aneesa, but that she fought back, grabbed the gun, and fired twice into the ceiling. I'm not sure she would have been in a position to fight back after smoking weed and getting severely beaten, but maybe I'm underestimating the power of adrenaline. Veronica gets to take a bite of the Exposition Salad as she says the boys ran off, and the police picked them up the day based on Aneesa's descriptions and the motel security footage. C of I wraps it up by saying that Aneesa said she staggered (again, she fought back when she could barely walk?) out to the balcony and threw the gun over the railing, but that the gun was never found. Maybe someone investigating the crime took it for some reason of his own -- nah, that would never happen in Neptune.
Veronica moves on to the defense's case, which is that Aneesa is a hooker who offered the boys a three-way for eighty bucks. We see a photo of a cheap-looking motel with one of the second-floor rooms circled as Veronica goes on to say that before the three of them could get down to business, a young African-American man, "apparently her pimp," kicked the door in, fired two shots into the ceiling, and ordered the boys out. The boys said that the pimp felt that Aneesa owed him money, so they assume he's the one who beat her, although they left before that happened. Some other male juror informs us that Aneesa was convicted at age fifteen for forgery. I thought your juvenile record got sealed when you turn eighteen, but given that the juror goes on that she was convicted of a later crime for which she's still on parole, maybe that was sufficient to have it reopened. Veronica continues, saying that Aneesa claimed she called an ex-boyfriend and asked for his help, but when the cops arrived, he was nowhere to be found, and neither of the defendants had either a criminal record or a gun registered in his name. After the shots, the manager apparently waited a few minutes, and then walked toward the room. He must have been really busy with things like not calling the police. He testified that he saw a young black man with a gun run across the parking lot and leap over the six-foot fence surrounding the motel. Cap Doofus: "Boy's got some serious ups, yo," and I'll just let the African-American woman answer that for me: "[Eye-roll.]" Veronica gets to the defense's "ace in the hole": Aneesa's pimp, who turned himself in, and whose story matches the boys' version exactly. Interesting that they referred to him in that way, since he must be a pretty good poker player to have sold that bullshit story. Seriously, any prosecutor who failed to raise the idea that maybe it's a little suspicious for someone who MAKES HIS LIVING SELLING WOMEN'S SEXUAL FAVORS to come forward and get two rich white boys off the hook maybe should not be paid for his case-making abilities. Veronica pulls off Cap Doofus's accessory, puts it in the middle of the table, and asks everyone to jot down their votes and drop them in. VMVO says that this is just one lesson in civic responsibility for her, and a slightly shortened holiday for everyone. Ironic, since I once served on a murder trial that lasted an entire month, and it still seemed shorter than this scene alone. Veronica tallies the votes, and announces that there's a lone "guilty" voter. She announces, "I guess we'll all see each other first thing in the morning." Don't sound so thrilled, Veronica. No, I'm serious -- don't.
Deputy Sacks is nervously babbling about the security measures the police department has in place. He sounds like he's completely aping Lamb, but the performance isn't quite comparable, although that could be due to the presence of his uniform. Keith asks what happens if a card goes missing, and Sacks says Inga has all the codes, so she can issue a new one, but only if you have Level One clearance. Keith compliments Sacks for staying on message so well. "If not for the little perspiration problem, you'd make a great White House press secretary." I hate to disagree with Keith, but I'm going to go out on a limb and say that Scott McClellan isn't going to be the poster boy for any anti-perspirants any time in the three years. Keith sums it up: security's tight, and none of the senior staff took the tapes. Sacks nods, but then realizes that he's supposed to be shaking his head. Hee.
Veronica is apologizing to her jury, although I don't know why, since she didn't cast the "guilty" vote. But it's not like it's the first apology of Veronica's I haven't understood this season. C of I bitches that his 200,000 stockholders won't be too pleased that their CEO is missing a meeting with outsourcing contractors in Bangalore. Cap Doofus gets in on the act, saying that the sports fans of Neptune will be complaining that "the mind of Madison Harwell is missing from the airwaves." I was wondering about that too, except for the "from the airwaves" part. A woman who hasn't spoken before this point suggests that they get on with it, and I wish she'd gotten some lines earlier if she was going to be this trenchant. C of I asks the "guilty" voter to come forward, so No-Nonsense Woman languidly raises a hand with a "No problem, big shot. I'm the one trashing your quarterly earnings." Heh. C of I asks if the racial stuff is affecting her vote, a question she unabashedly turns around, so C of I asks her for any reason Aneesa's story is remotely credible. N-NW says that she's never heard of a hooker who "works her ass off at the car wash all day before hitting the streets." Everyone looks stymied by this bit of common sense, so Veronica suggests that they discuss it. Before they do so, perhaps Veronica should drop a little note to the judge suggesting that she double-check the prosecutor's legal credentials. It's probably the speediest way to obtain a mistrial at this point.
Deputy Leo! He tells Keith that security around the sheriff's office is a joke. Well, he'd know. Keith notes that that's odd, because Lamb said it was great. Leo: "You'd think so. He locks himself out pretty often." Hee. Leo suggests that someone figured what the tapes would be worth on the open market, and Keith kicks himself for being so hung up on Haaron that he never stopped to think of that. Leo says that good celebrity porn is scarce these days, and it's nice to know that writers are still just as willing to take shots at Paris Hilton as I am. Leo gets up to go, but then asks Keith if he minds giving Leo's best to Veronica. Keith: "A little" -- he smiles -- "but I'll do it." Aw. That's really nice of Keith, considering all Leo ever did for him was SAVE HIS LIFE.
Hey, it's Lloyd, that reporter from the first-season finale! Keith calls, and Lloyd asks him if he's got any "true-crime semi-bestsellers" for him. I thought at first that this meant Lloyd was Keith's co-author, but we know from the premiere that the co-author is from the Tribune, and later Inga says that Lloyd is from the Dispatch. But I like this guy, so I'm going to ignore that inconvenience to make that plot point work for me. Sometimes you have to go with the flow. After establishing that their conversation is to stay off the record, Keith tells Lloyd about the tapes, and asks if he's heard any "buzz" on that. Lloyd hasn't, but he says that whoever has them would go straight to the tabloids. He allows, though, that he has a "casual acquaintance" at the Instigator, and that he'll check with her. Keith doesn't bother to find out how Lloyd is going to find out what she knows without spilling the story, but then again, how likely is it that a tabloid reporter wouldn't tell the God's honest truth?
Java The Hut. Veronica turns around and almost runs into Thumper, and asks which one he is: "Blinky? Humpty? ...Zorro?" Hee. Thumper menacingly asks Veronica if she's going to let the 09ers on trial go free and, when she refuses to discuss it, says he wouldn't want to prejudice her. Well, the level of sarcasm is making the "Zorro" moniker look a bit more appropriate. He leaves, and Veronica looks concerned, as well she might. I mean, if she keeps pissing off different ethnic groups, she's going to end up with more tattoos than Wentworth Miller.
Anywhere But Here. Veronica cues up a security tape, which she says came from the motel, and they watch an African-American man run through the parking lot and hop the fence. N-NW points out that twelve minutes passed between the firing of the gun and the guy taking off, which is suspicious. Everyone takes that in as, somewhere, the prosecutor gets fired from his second job at Starbucks, at which, coincidentally, he also sucks.
Keith already inside, Logan enters an interrogation room on a comment about the décor. The words and the socialite "dahling" accent he puts on combine with such gay force that I have to jump up and grab my TV to keep it from flying out the window. The two of them grin at each other, and I guess bygones have become bygones, but I suppose being manhandled by male authority figures is par for the course for Logan. In more ways than one. Keith thinks that Logan must not know what's going on. Logan: "No. But they request my presence here weekly." Heh. Keith drops the bomb about the tapes, and asks Logan whether his dad might have said anything about them. Keith's oblique accusation that he was in on the theft causes Logan to get his back up. Careful, Logan, you don't want to wear it out. Inga interrupts to tell Keith that Lloyd is on the phone, so Keith goes to take the call...
...and we see him getting the news from Lloyd that the Instigator has, in fact, been contacted about the tapes, and that the high bid is currently half a million bucks. That seems pretty high, but remember, Haaron has an ass like an eighteen-year-old wrestler. I remember these things so you don't have to. Except I guess now you kind of do.
Sacks enters the interrogation room, drops a binder on the desk, and leaves. Logan was lying on the bench, so he was somewhat easy to overlook, but this illustrates that the security Lamb was so quick to describe as kick-ass really needs a little kick. Logan gets up and pockets something from the flap of the binder just in advance of Keith returning and repeating his last question. Logan asks if Keith really thinks he would conspire to "save Daddy Dearest." I'm not sure that's the most apt comparison, but only because I could see Haaron doing some pretty creative things with wire hangers. Keith is unmoved, so Logan is all, I'll tell you if I hear anything, dude. Keith: "The name's not 'dude.' It's 'Mr. Mars.'" That's the shortest détente I've ever seen, and I grew up during the Cold War.
Anywhere But Here. After a bit more bitchery about how much jury duty sucks, N-NW says she's satisfied that they've taken their job seriously, so she's willing to change her vote if that will still make it unanimous. However, when the new hands-in-the-air vote is taken, both the African-American woman and Veronica switch sides, although Veronica does it after the woman, like, sack up, girl. The episode title implies that we're supposed to see Veronica grandly standing up and doing what she thinks is right, so it would be nice if she raised her hand with more conviction than a second-grader asking to go to the bathroom during a test. C of I paces in frustration, and scene.
Keith arrives home to find Veronica cooking in...a cocktail dress? Okay. She's also wearing an elf hat, and the apartment is festively decked with boughs of holly and the like. Veronica tells Keith that she thought they needed at least an hour of holiday, and this is nice, but where are the scary handmade ornamentsfrom "An Echolls Family Christmas"? Oh, damn, I didn't mean to mention that episode. Now I have to pause while a bunch of you sigh wistfully about the halcyon days of yore. Veronica serves up game hens, because they "were just so cute," and then they sit down, and Keith thanks her for doing all this. They toast, and he asks, "You're drinking wine now?" Veronica: "No." Heh, and good for her. Might as well find out about that alcoholism gene sooner rather than later.
Later, Keith compliments Veronica's cooking by way of a bad Italian accent. At least my TV stayed on the stand for that one. Veronica starts to clear, but Keith tells her that Backup can handle the dishes. Well, with the game hens and all, I'm quite sure he can lick the plates clean. But despite the fact that they say the inside of a dog's mouth is cleaner than that of a human's, I still couldn't bring myself to eat off them afterward. Keith asks if Veronica would like a sneak peek at one of her Christmas presents, and after some mock reluctance, Veronica excitedly follows Keith into her bedroom. I hope if it's another waterbed, he spent some real money on it this time. Flooding is expensive.
No, it's Veronica's computer, which has a red ribbon tied around it. Keith, I think you got a little confused on the concept of regifting. But no, turns out he had the hard drive and processor replaced, and Mac promised him that it's all totally state-of-the-art. Good thing Mac likes Veronica, because I could see her putting in a few unpleasant surprises if she didn't. I wouldn't even attempt to debug a Mac-created virus. Veronica smiles and thanks Keith, and he suggests that she take it for a test drive. She wakes up the computer to see that there are two stories on the desktop about Carnell Myles, the guy who's claiming to be a pimp now. Apparently, he used to be a star athlete, but suffered a career-ending injury. Veronica watches Keith leave the room as VMVO asks, "Is there anyone in this town who doesn't know which trial I'm on?" Well, Lost was in repeats this week. (Oh, stop your hand-wringing. I gave up that show two episodes into this season.)
Anywhere But Here. Veronica asks if the "sports guys" can help her out: she thinks she's heard Myles's name before, but she's pretty sure he's not a musician or an actor. Cap Doofus takes that and runs, saying that Carnell was known as "Matrix" Myles, and was drafted by the Bengals. I guess that nickname foretold that things would go downhill for him. Cap Doofus goes on to tell us what we saw in the second article, which is that Myles blew out his knee the first day of training camp and never played again. N-NW asks Veronica how, then, he could have jumped gazelle-like over the fence. Veronica looks pleased with herself, and I guess between taking credit for a revelation she totally didn't have and using said revelation to tamper with a criminal trial, she has put in a pretty full morning's work.
Sheriff's Office Of Unimpeachable Security. Keith calls Sacks in and says he's not finding the list of the staff's email addresses. Well, if one of them isn't sacks@moustachesrhot.com, I'll be extremely surprised. Sacks says he put it in the flap, and that's all he knows. He walks away as Keith wonders if losing the election might be the best thing that's ever happened to him.
Anywhere But Here. C of I is reiterating what they've just learned -- that McKinnon's father is a sports agent -- and Veronica says that that might be how Myles got involved. And from here, everything about this plot is ridiculous. Up until now, the jury could reasonably have been said to be analyzing the credibility of the witnesses and evidence presented during the trial, but now they're basically conducting their own private investigation, which is grossly inappropriate and grounds for an immediate mistrial. Since they would all know this from the judge's charge, it's preposterous that none of them raised an objection. Even more ludicrous is that C of I and others wouldn't tell the judge what happened so that they could obtain a mistrial and be able to go home or to Bangalore or wherever the hell their stop in life is. I mean, if they're going to abuse the justice system, they might as well do so for their own ends. I realize this is supposed to be a Twelve Angry Men homage, but it doesn't work for a number of reasons, the most important to me being the standard of proof in criminal trials. In the movie, all the holdout juror had to do was convince the others that a reasonable doubt of the boy's guilt existed, which was easy enough to do by pointing out instances where the evidence presented was faulty. Here, though, Veronica and the holdouts have to convince the others that the boys are guilty beyond a reasonable doubt when the evidence presented obviously doesn't support that conclusion. Maybe the idea was to switch things up so as not to copy the original too closely, but if that's the case, the decision was ill-advised. I understand that the ultimate point is to put Veronica generally back on the side of the have-nots, but this plotline goes beyond minor contrivances and into pure fantasy, and about a subject that most viewers are actually familiar with, unlike, say, the REIT scheme. And...it's still not like that's the worst thing in the world to happen once in a while, but the plotline also suffers from being kind of badly-paced and boring. In the movie, the stakes were much higher because a kid's life was in question. But maybe they wanted to get some courtroom-related time in, because it's not like there are any big upcoming trials happening in Neptune or anything.
Anyway, the jurors argue for a bit, and Veronica then points out that her theory that McKinnon's father paid off Myles is no less crazy than the theory that a pimp showed up to take the rap for two white boys out of the goodness of his heart, and maybe this wouldn't seem tiresome if I hadn't come to that conclusion myself half an hour ago. Another juror points out that they saw the guy on the tape holding the gun, but Veronica theorizes that the gun actually belonged to Aneesa, only she couldn't admit that because she's not allowed to own a gun, based on her parole. I don't know how these people could vote guilty beyond a reasonable doubt based on this theory, given that it doesn't look like half of them would understand it even if Veronica used a flow chart and sock puppets. So the point is that Aneesa's friend Simmons is the one she called, and he showed up, took the gun, and got rid of it for her, and he's the one they saw on the tape. I'd like to know where the sheriff's people were in all this, but maybe they had a department-wide emergency concerning notebook flaps. It happens. C of I is skeptical, so Veronica takes them through a long chain of deductive reasoning. I'm deducing from the forum comments that you won't mind if I skip it.
Inga marches up to Keith and hands him an anonymous email she just got offering fifty grand for the tapes. Sacks pipes up that they all got them. Off Keith's look: "I told the sheriff!" Heh. Keith demands another copy of the email list...
...and then he's using Inga's email address (last name "Olofson," FYI) to send a message accepting the offer to "gottapes@gmail.com." He asks for details of the transfer and pickup.
Anywhere But Here. The jurors look at the tape of the dude scaling the fence, and make obvious comments about the knee injury and how easy it would be to mistake the one dude for the other at this distance. I don't think the distance is so much the problem as the fact that the resolution on that tape makes the cheapest cable-access shows look sharp as a tack by comparison. Veronica calls another vote, and now the vote is ten to two in favor of conviction, like, NOT. The bailiff pokes his head in and tells Veronica that the judge would like to see her. C of I says he'll never vote for conviction, so she should tell the judge that the jury is hung. I hate to agree with the bad guy here, but: yes, please.
Keith gets an email back saying, "Sorry dude, I already have the tapes." Keith intones, "That's Mr. Mars to you," and thanks for the big reveal, but I kind of think Logan knew you were on to him there, Keith, since his the fact that he already was in possession of the tapes was just the tiniest hint that your email wasn't genuine. Also, I don't think even the most die-hard Californian would address Inga as "dude."
Anywhere But Here. The jurors are packing up for the day when Veronica returns and tells them she told the judge they weren't deadlocked, and the judge responded by saying that they weren't going home until they reached a verdict. This would never happen, but I guess in a town where Veronica can get her summons, show up to serve, and go through the jury selection process and most of the trial in a day or two, they're not too fond of lollygagging. N-NW blithely takes out her knitting. Heh.
Hey, it's Lilly! But only for a second: we're watching the same snippet of the sex tape we saw in the season finale, so Haaron rolls into the frame. It's not really nice of the show to remind me how desperately I miss Amanda Seyfried, you know. The camera pans over to reveal that we're in Duncan's suite, and a teary Logan is sitting on the couch watching. Damn. This boy is such a masochist I wouldn't be surprised to learn that he watched the copies as well just for bad measure. Anyway, Logan uses a degausser to erase the tapes, and then lights the covers on fire and tosses them into the wastebasket. Someone knocks on the door, making me wonder if the fire brigade is as efficient as the justice system, but when Logan pulls himself together and answers the door, it's Keith, who asks, "For that experience, you paid fifty grand?" Keith, not only is the answer yes, but I think it's a good bet that he'd do it again. Logan considers Keith for a long moment, and then walks back into the suite, sniffling as he tells the trailing Keith, "All that matters is that the world wide web won't be hosting mpegs of my old man defiling the love of my life." Well, that's true, but I'd be surprised if an anime depiction isn't already available somewhere. Also, I loved Lilly as much as anyone, but I wouldn't go so far to say she was exactly, um, "filed" before Haaron got his hands on her. Keith points out that Logan did his dad a favor here, but Logan says he can testify as to what's on the tapes, and blech. I mean, if we're granting that the tapes would have been admissible because they speak to Haaron's state of mind at the time of the murder, I really don't see how word-of-mouth testimony from Veronica, who Haaron almost killed, and Logan, who hates Haaron, is going to carry the same impact as actual visual evidence. Isn't one of the things we're supposed to take from this episode that one of the responsibilities of jurors is to evaluate the witnesses' credibility? Why am I asking so many questions this close to a six-week break? Keith points out that Logan could go to jail, but Logan says there's no evidence: the tapes are blank. Keith asks if blank tapes made him cry. Logan: "Yeah. I thought I'd saved the Daria marathon on them." HA ha ha. Nice. Keith asks how Logan managed to get the tapes for such a low price. Logan: "Why sir, I've always depended upon the kindness of strangers." It's a good thing I have Logan's email address now, because I want to ask him how Brokeback Mountain is, and I'm sure he saw it on opening night. In fact, it's probably the only thing he placed a higher priority on seeing than the sex tapes. Keith wonders how Logan could have found kindness in the sheriff's department, but then his face falls as he realizes that Max Greenfield must have made this guest appearance for a reason.
Anywhere But Here. Veronica is having a tiresome argument with C of I, who calls her "Barbie" and says he'll never send two boys from good families to jail "on the word of that Mexican whore!" This prompts the other not guilty vote to switch sides, and then C of I blusteringly and blatheringly does the same. It's pretty cool how the effects people made him look so real, given that he's a cartoon. But with the show's budgetary constraints, I think the money might have been better spent elsewhere. C of I says that the boys will appeal and win, and that's the smartest thing I've heard all day. Veronica thanks him for the lesson in civic responsibility, and he does look a little mortified at the reminder that he brought this on himself. I guess he'll remember the name "Veronica Mars," although I'm surprised there's anyone left in Neptune who isn't familiar with it. But it's no different from the blank stares I get in response to telling people what show I recap, except those make me a lot sadder. Also, if Veronica's theory is correct, Aneesa is guilty of violating her parole by owning a firearm, and also of perjury, but I guess that isn't pertinent to the message.
Sometime later, most of the jurors seem to have left, so given that they weren't allowed to leave until a verdict was rendered, Veronica must have summoned the bailiff and gotten a note to the judge, who then convened the court and heard the decision. Around here, though, that probably took all of eight minutes. The African-American woman approaches Veronica and, after telling her how impressed she is with her, suggests that she'd fit right in at "Hearst," which is apparently a local university. Well, we knew this had to happen at some point, and I will give credit to the show for getting it over with and at least trying to make it seem more organic than some other shows (let's all turn to SOAPnet and wave at )! Veronica says that she was planning on leaving town at top speed after graduation, and also that the tuition would be a problem. The woman says that Hearst has some very generous scholarship and grant programs, and that she'd fight for Veronica. Veronica looks interested, but also regretful that she didn't know about this last week. If only that Kane scholarship hadn't been so important to her, she really could have let Celeste have it.
Cut to the exterior of a diner, where Veronica discovers that "MUCHAS GRACIAS, BITCH!" is written on her windshield. Well, I guess we know what language Madison Sinclair is taking in college. VMVO speculates that now she's right back where she was a year ago, socially speaking. Well, except for the fact that you're still going out with Duncan. But if that's foreshadowing, it's among the most fragrant I've ever smelled.
Veronica arrives home, notes that Keith is poring over some tax reports, and breezily tells him about the verdict. She grabs some glass cleaner and paper towels and starts to head back outside, but Keith stops her and asks what she knows about Leo's family. Veronica looks wary...
...and we cut to the deputy in question, whom Keith calls into his office. Keith asks about Leo's sister, and Leo looks for a second like he knows the jig is up, but gamely offers that "Tina" is great, and that she challenges him to Crazy Eights every night. Keith smiles, probably because the revelation that Leo still lives at home with a ten-year-old makes it a lot more likely that Leo and Veronica kept their activities last year, um, suitable for young audiences. Leo gets more serious as he says that Tina has Down's Syndrome. Keith asks if that's why Leo stole the tapes, and Leo flinches, but eventually apologizes, saying that Tina's getting picked on in public school and is falling way behind, so Leo wants to send her to private school. Keith is reasonably sympathetic, but still concerned that Leo damaged the case against Haaron, and Leo repeats the whole "other people can testify" idea. Leo, I'm not buying that argument now any more than I did before just because it's coming from someone in uniform. Although I do appreciate it. Leo goes on to say that he didn't do it to get rich, and Keith concedes that he could have made a lot more money.
You know, I think I don't have too big a problem with Leo stealing the tapes, even though no matter how you spin it, it's a betrayal of Veronica and Keith, people Leo cares about. The sister with Down's Syndrome is a pretty compelling reason, although it would have been more effective if we knew about her earlier. But I'm not sure I then buy him taking a tenth of the asking price just because he feels sorry for Logan. Maybe he felt like this was a compromise he couldn't turn down, because it seemed like he was turning a profit while doing more good than harm, and I will note that it's nice that Leo was the one that sympathetically arrested Logan in the season premiere, which might have strengthened Leo's sensitivity here. But fifty grand is going to buy a special-needs child probably about a year in private school, and if her need is so great that Leo was willing to break the law and betray his ex in the process, the ethical math just isn't adding up for me. Also, why the hell would he arouse suspicion that it was an inside job by stealing the originals when just the copies would have done as well? Makes no sense.
Anyway, Leo says he felt so bad he almost returned the tapes, but then he saw Logan reading the list of the departmental emails, like I'm so sure Logan would have examined the purloined list in the sheriff's office. I mean, I know the kid's supposed to be impulsive, but come on. Leo goes on to say that he got Logan's email and knew it was him, and that Logan made it clear he wanted the tapes destroyed. Keith says he can't just let Leo slide. Leo says he knows, but that he hopes Keith's report will allow him to return in the all-too-likely event that Modern Men gets shitcanned.
Keith types his report, which slams department security but places special blame on Leo. As Keith continues in voice-over that he believes Logan bought and destroyed the tapes but would never be convicted due to lack of evidence, we see Leo turning in his badge and piece to Lamb. Huh, I guess we did see Lamb again for a second. You'll understand if I found this scene slightly less memorable.
Keith gets a phone call, looks like he might lose it for a second, and thanks the caller, saying he's kind of shocked...
...and then he's knocking on Veronica's bedroom door. He sits down and breaks the news that Meg died from a blood clot that dislodged and made its way to her heart. Well, I thought she would probably buy it, and this is not an unrealistic way to die for someone who's been bedridden for so long, but it certainly seems anticlimactic and a bit of a disservice to a character I really enjoyed. Veronica asks about the baby, and Keith tells her it's a girl, and that she survived. Veronica hugs Keith tight and breaks down, although it could be that the life-from-death scenario is making her really tired.
Presumably much later and now in the living room, Veronica and Keith wait for the ball to drop as VMVO says that the promise of hope in the New Year is all bullshit. Geez, honey, I'm not giving up on better ratings yet. Keith bails to go to bed, and right afterward, there's a knock at the door. Veronica opens it expecting it to be her pizza, but instead, it's Wallace. He wishes her a happy New Year, and it's not nice of him to make me pause the action to collect myself at Minute 56. Also, it will be interesting to see how Veronica behaves now that her moral center has returned. Veronica hugs Wallace...
...and then the ball is dropping as Veronica and Wallace sit on the couch with his arm around her. VMVO says she's a sucker, but that she'll give the New Year thing one last chance. So will I, but not until January 18th.
But since we're about to take a break, it seems like a good time for some parting thoughts. There's been a lot of talk on the boards about how Veronica is being written differently this year. I understand that position, but I think it's only normal that she be different. She went through a series of traumas at the end of last season, and it's reasonable to think that they would have a profound effect on her, just the way Lilly's death did. It doesn't particularly bother me that she's, at least temporarily, not actively choosing to be an outsider. The problem, though, is that the season mysteries haven't engaged her. She almost died, she knew at least one person on the bus, and she thought the crash was meant for her. She and her very protective father both have reason to think her safety is at risk, and yet the effect of the last ten episodes is to make it seem like they've been sitting on their asses. I'm sure that's not how it's been meant to come across, but that's how it seems to me. I mean, Veronica came across the recording of the bus crash completely by happenstance and, as I complained once before, she never even took the time to learn who was on the bus. Why hasn't she interviewed the victims' friends? Their parents? Why can't she get that damn whiteboard out and really try to figure out what's going on? The answer, at least as depicted onscreen, is that she could, but she doesn't care enough (here's where I'm missing Amanda Seyfried again). And ten episodes in, that just feels wrong. Veronica didn't even ask Meg about the crash before she died! It's easy to put the blame on Veronica's maddeningly complacent and incomprehensible relationship with Duncan -- and I do, partially -- but if the season mysteries (I won't even get into the Logan one) aren't enough to make her sit up and take notice almost halfway through the season, they're not working. So what I'm saying is, Veronica: get the frickin' lead out and start caring.
And also: Happy Holidays!