Halls of Justice. Ed wanders over to D.A. Hayne to once again posit that the Schaeffer case is frivolous -- but this time, our crafty devil uses the word "nuts" so that it looks like a different argument. Ms. Hayne argues that Schaeffer's actions contravene the people's common good, and it's her duty to represent the people however and wherever the law is violated. Apparently, the "people" entrusted her with this. Ed opens his mouth to fight her, but she snaps that she's not expecting much from him after his performance earlier that day. As she jauntily exits the building, Ed stares agape at her. I think Uptight McPrissy is supposed to be charmingly adroit at slinging clever barbs with our Ed, but instead she's irritating and hostile. Between her and Carol, I'd choose Carol. Hell, between her and a one-eyed monkey with hygiene problems, the monkey would win every time.

Ed just wants to defeat Ms. Hayne, he tells Mike. For his part, Mike wants to know if she's hot. Grudgingly, Ed admits that she's hot, and says the saucy minx needs only to be bowled over by some Stuckey, Edward J Stevens style. Mike only hears the "hot" part, and says, "Yeeeah," while cuddling his baby daughter. Ed, suddenly inspired, starts up with this week's $10 bet.

Cut to Mr. Clean, who is bowling. Mike walks up to the burly man and calmly starts singing "Tonight, I Celebrate My Love For you." He's wretchedly off-key, but with a pleasant expression he serenades an increasingly alarmed Mr. Clean as Ed giggles in the background. Sarah, the baby, stares at her crooning father as though she already understands genetics and its cruel realities. Mike pauses briefly at "When I make love you," but chokes it out anyway. Phil sidles up to Ed and notes that Carol is calling, which prompts Ed to hand off the baby and sprint for Ms. Vessey's squirting pipes. Shrugging, Mike keeps singing for kicks.

Classical music plays softly as Ed inhales Carol's pot roast. Lame marriage joke. Carol thinks Ed is putting off dealing with her plumbing problems, so he grins and they tromp downstairs. The floor is still flooded. "I've increased my homeowner's insurance so I can fully enjoy your work," she says. Ed looks uncomfortable, and offers to let Carol out of the bet. A gloating Carol refuses. A duck swims past waving a sign that says, "Predictable 3:13!" Rock music kicks off a montage of Ed expertly repairing the leak, manipulating the wrench like it's the law, or something. The lyrics to the background song say stupid things like, "See me now like I am, not in the rose-colored sham" and whatnot. Finished, Ed holds the wrench-qua-sword and smiles proudly. Carol's blown away by Ed's masculinity, and I confess, so am I. Ed could plumb my pipes anytime. It turns out he was a plumber's apprentice during law school, which explains that all-important errant comma. "You're a plumbing hustler?" Carol asks, stunned. Ed grins and hands Carol a prepared statement. They leave.