In a lounge, Turner sits alone in the dark. Even his Kufi hat looks drained of happiness. Malcolm's male nurse, Thelonius, comes in, disgruntled and upset. He offers to switch tags on the patient wristbands so that Malcolm will receive the liver after all with nobody the wiser. Turner, who knows what a boneheaded idea this is, instead offers up an excuse coming from the criminal's lawyer: "The law exists to prevent us from violating a man's civil rights just because it makes us feel better." Eloquent. Turner tears up the wristband and says nice things about the nurse. Sad music as Turner is alone again with his Kufi and his coffee.
Back in the courtroom of the limp nodes, Carlton is introducing the hooker as a surprise witness, which Emerald Jordan objects to. The judge allows it. In walks Honey Suckle looking like one of the members of En Vogue from the "Never Gonna Get It" video. She describes herself as a sexual entertainment specialist. She says she knows Amos and he's a frequent client. Amos's wife, now wearing the primary color of red instead of blue, hits him on the back of the head, demanding an explanation. "She's lying!" he says. Honey says they had sex a week ago. "She is lying, baby!" Amos says to his wife, who silences him with The Hand. Honey says that the reason Amos came to her was that his wife was piggy and her arm fat jiggled. Okay now, this is just cruel. Ron Harris, you should be ashamed of yourself. Honey, who is armed with all of the lawyer's secret information, goes on to talk about a birthmark on Amos' butt in the shape of Florida. "She knows about Florida?" Mrs. Sotheby screams, as she stands up. Adding further insult to injury, Honey reveals that Amos has vitiligo. "He's all spotty down below like a pinto horse." Wow, kick a man when he's down. I mean, really down. Mrs. Sotheby loses it, gets up and starts yelling at her husband. "I wish you really were impotent!" she cries, and starts hitting him with her purse. She's led away by bailiffs as Ron Harris looks smug, satisfied and more pleasured than if he had paid the hooker for her usual services. Case dismissed.
Price comes up to Turner in the lunchroom, where he's despondent about having harvested the liver for the smooth criminal. Price tells him they won the Sotheby case, what with Harris hiring a hooker and all. Turner moans about the injustice of it all, just as the young priest walks up. "Amen to that," the priest says. He's tired. "Up all night wrestling with your faith?" Turner asks. "Trying to hold on to it in the dark," he replies. The priest says that if Malcolm could look death in the face and believe, who was he to question? The priest says he feels terrible about the whole thing. Price puts her arm around Turner and he cries into folded up arms. We fade to black and white. It's a bummer, but not every week can be Half-Naked Blair Underwood Week, I guess.