Fuck off, kid. Daddy's working. Wahlberg couldn't hate his family any more. McPointy fills Wahlberg in on Jo(e)y Lam's murder at Berman's house last night. Wahlberg knows who Berman is: "Movie producer, political heavy." McPointy: "Yeah. Heavy like a bulldozer." See? That doesn't even mean anything. McPointy says he knows Zach's lying about not knowing who Jo(e)y is. How? McPointy hasn't seen the webcam file yet. McPointy brings up Wahlberg's son, and Wahlberg asks him not to pull the sympathetic-parent card. McPointy: "All right, how 'bout the direct approach?" Wahlberg: "A novel concept." McPointy: "Detective, not so long ago you asked for my help in bringing down some rich sonofabitch. And I helped you. Now it's my turn." You know, I recap this show, which means I watch it more than any of you. I know the ins and outs of every scene. I have no idea which episode McPointy's talking about. Couldn't it be any of them? Really? Why does this show hate the rich so much? And Wahlberg's already there. Why is McPointy still trying to convince him to come to work? Why do I care? WHY DO I CARE? Now suddenly McPointy's going a million miles a minute, delivering three pages of exposition. Allow me to sum, if you will: Berman used to own a fleet of salmon boats in Alaska, but they were really shitty boats, and they'd sink all the time, killing tons of fishermen. "He had the highest casualty rate in Alaska," they tell us in a bad sound edit that sounds like it was looped in way later. Why wasn't he busted then? Aw, who knows, who cares? So then he sold his boats and invested all of his money into a bad movie that ended up making an assload of money. You only have to know this shitty line: "Now, you might think it's a long way from the slime line to Hollywood -- turns out it's not...when you're a shark." For the love of God, NBC: cancel this show. McPointy points at the floor fifteen times as he almost breaks down into tears: "The point that I'm getting at is this: Berman may clean himself up all he wants, but he still smells like the slime line to me." Christ.
In Jo(e)y's room, Wahlberg fucks around with evidence by picking up the mousepad and mouse and moving it to the other side of Jo(e)y's keyboard. He asks Mrs. Lam if Jo(e)y used her keyboard a lot. Mrs. Lam nods: "She did her homework on it." Wahlberg notices that she doesn't have an internet icon on her desktop, and asks Mrs. Lam if she went online a lot. "I know nothing about computers," Mrs. Lam says. I don't have an internet icon on any of my computers. And when you've got DSL, you don't need an internet icon. And anyway, does he think that Jo(e)y made the .mpeg and posted it herself? Can't he just ask who pays the internet bill? AURGH! Wahlberg asks Mrs. Lam if Jo(e)y still plays baseball. Well, not anymore, dude. Anyway, this cues off the biggest sobfest monologue this show has seen yet, only to be beaten by the next several sobfest monologues that will soon be spoken. Mrs. Lam: "When Jo(e)y was a little girl, all she wanted was to play baseball. We told her it was not for girls. But then one day she came home with a flyer for a girls' league and we let her play. Of course, once she get [sic] to junior high school, her dad wouldn't allow her to play anymore." Mr. Lam predictably interrupts here, from lurking in the doorway: "It would have distracted her from her studies." Suddenly, the Strict Asian Bad Dad Flute of the Orient pipes in to play underneath his stereotypical rhetoric: "She played first base." Pause, pause, pause. "She was very good." Pause, pause, pause. "Or so I was told." Stare into space. Jeeeeeee-zus.