In Ally's office, Richard is all, WTF. Ally says nothing, except that she wants a few days off. Is it John? J-John? John Cage? Yeah, him. You remember, the guy whose heart you ripped out a few days earlier? Richard says that John is missing. He left a note saying he'd be back. Didn't he just take a week off to don the bodysuit? Richard twists the knife, saying, "Maybe he loves someone deeply who couldn't love him back." Ouch. Then he asks what happened, and Ally says John said he loved her, but that she couldn't love him back; she sighs exasperatedly. I don't think I've ever hated Ally more. Richard asks whether this is why she wants a few days off. Or is this about Glenn? Glenn? says Ally? Glenn, that Glenn? What? Oh, I cannot deal. Richard, you fuck her. NOW.
Nelle waits for the elevator. The door slides open; Hot Guy Ray steps off, into Nelle's face, and stands there grinning at her. Standoff. No one moves, Nelle mentions that, generally, the gentleman moves first. Ray says he's "standing face to face with a woman who's drop-dead goregous and smells good. A gentlemen would be a fool to move." Jenny reaches out and grabs him away, asking if it's any wonder he was sued. And why did he hire her, anyway? Because she's a good lawyer, a "hard-nosed litigator," and "freckly." Ray can do most of the work pro se, the case is all prepped, and all Jenny has to do is stand there with her freckles and charm the jury. Jenny asks how she can defend a "blatant, skirt-chasing ape." She forgot "who wears baseball hats backwards in public." Doesn't she want to hear his side? Okay, tell it. His side is that he's an ape. And guilty. So, they get to work.
Ally rounds a corner -- her head so far down her chin is south of her collarbone -- and Ray still shoots her a "how you doing?" Ally shudders audibly. Then, she rams into Glenn. He smiles winningly in the dappled sunlight, and asks whether her going home is the adult way to handle this situation. Glenn? Honey? You're on a show called Ally McBeal. Nothing is ever the adult way on this show. Not even a threeway, or two women kissing, or drinking a cup of goddam coffee is safe from being lampooned. No adult moments ever -- that's the rule. So never ask; if Ally's being a freak, everything is normal. That's the way David E. Kelley wants it. So just stand in your nice lighting and sing your Frank Sinatra songs and cash your checks and never, ever question the order of things, 'kay? Great, babe. Ally -- her hair looking very, very bad; not just smoothed down on the top, but also oily and matted, progressing to very messed up in back -- stammers that she's choosing to face her "destructive urges alone, and if that's not adult, then goo-goo-goo-goo-good-bye." Glenn's face gets all wrinkly. Honey? Never. Question. The order.