Payne sighs his way over to his office for some well-needed levity after that difficult moment with his ex-hot-babysitter. And Richard Kind delivers! Payne has to avert his eyes from a naked Kind, playing a character named "Lou." He's sprawled on a couch, his private parts masked by stacks of unpacked boxes. What? I'm just describing the scene, which takes place in an office strewn with stacks of unpacked boxes. Jason prudishly looks heavenward while Lou explains that he was tidying up a bit when he decided to take a nap. Jason lifts his skirts to mince his way forward, asking Lou to "get dressed somewhere else," and Lou recognizes him by his crinolines: "You're Jason, aren't you?"
Courtroom. Schultz strides purposefully in yet another inappropriate-for-court snazzy Merc/Ben Sherman/Penguin/H&M suit, followed by the Li'l Mrs. He kicks the public defender to the curb, and sits down next to his new client. I'm sure this happens all the time, lawyers waltzing in and out of courtrooms stealing clients. And oh lord, what a client. This kid looks like Alan Cumming but with even weirder eyebrows, even floppier hair, and a sphincter squeeze of a face. He farts out an ungrateful "If you're here to shove some deal down my throat like this tool for the system" when Schultz tells him to "Relax, all right? I was doing that thing for the environment when you were still waxing your weasel to Christina Aguilera." Hee. The judge interjects, "Did you say 'waxing your weasel'?" and I pity the show that has to employ the rusty mechanism of a hard-of-hearing old guy to repeat one of the few good adolescent jokes it manages to make. Blah blah blah about bail not bail. It's set at 25K, and while Schultz complains, the Li'l Mrs. hops up to say "I can pay his bail," to the surprise of her assface husband and her parents, but not me. Because I pay attention to contemporary culture, and I know that most pregnant nineteen-year-old Stanford dropouts, who drop out to get married and agitate on behalf of the environment -- statistically, most of them have cash for bail.
Credits. And since I won't ever get to comment on this again, I love how "downtown" Schultz is, walking in front of the Capitol Records building in his flat-front suit. Did my mom put these credits together?
Schultz walks into Jason's office: "Heard you met Lou." Jason responds brightly, "Yeah, I saw his penis. Do you think that's how I like to start my day? Looking at Lou's penis?" Man, it's like a bunch of really gay fish in a barrel around here. Schultz quips, "No, but I like how you keep saying 'penis.'" And how. According to Schultz, Lou is "their" paralegal, but Jason insists that he's only Schultz's paralegal. Jason doesn't want Schultz and Lou messing up his hair or rumpling his skirts, and he tells Schultz that both he and Lou need to stay out of his office. Schultz asks, "You've never heard of Lou Albertini? He's one of the most prominent civil rights attorneys in all of Baltimore." Oooh, that Lou Albertini. Jason isn't impressed: "And?" Schultz fails to impress: "And, he's not anymore." Schultz confesses that he took the Li'l Mrs.'s case, and Jason launches himself back into last week's episode, complaining once again about Dr. Robinson's "buddy system" therapy. Dude, if you don't like it so much, why are you already setting up your hot rollers in the Beachside Barrister Bungalow? And don't tell me you don't use hot rollers to get that body and volume, Chris O'Donnell. Schultz asks Jason for some help on the case; since his client is a hothead, and he is a hothead, he feels he needs someone to "balance things out a little bit." Jason agrees to go meet with the Bunghole, but says he needs a few minutes to put his lipstick on.