Head Cases
S(elf) Help

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Drunken Bee: B- | Grade It Now!
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S(elf) Help

Golf course. Jason hits balls while Schultz watches. Schultz tells him that the Li'l Mrs. "dropped off a check for fifteen grand" when Jason wanks, "We're building a practice. We don't need to be representing radical fringe groups." Conveniently, the Li'l Mrs.'s parents walk up. They speak to one another in the dulcet tones of the rich: "Khaki pants, khaki pants." "Oh, ho, ho! Pastel collared shirt!" Total Bastard Dad makes an annoying joke about "You know what they say, drive for show, putt for dough!" when Schultz interjects, "Now, who says that exactly? Cuz I'd like to see about having them killed." Total Bastard Dad recognizes Schultz as "representing that punk that blew up my dealership" then blowhards on like richfolk tend to do. Schultz tries walking away, but when TBD calls him a "dirt bag" Jason has to hold him back. Total Bastard Dad wants to push the envelope, and what better and more realistic way to do that than start indicting Jason for having a breakdown. Because that is how it is in real life. Especially in Los Angeles, where rehabilitation treatment is still largely exotic and misunderstood. Jason doesn't take any guff, so he tells the bastard that he'll be representing Ken along with Schultz.

Commercials. Copy shop. Jason can't work one copier, while Schultz copies his face with another. As we know, I'm no fan of the Baby Man, but hanging out with someone who actually thinks it's funny to copy parts of their body like it's 1988 or something would get trying. Jason whines that they need to put the fifteen grand back into the law practice and that they need "some shred of order and routine around the office." I'm betting things are pretty calm and quiet at the now cancelled Beach Bungalow. Schultz tells Jason that he "blew through twelve hundred of my cut last night, but after that, sure." Jason can't understood what he spend the money on in one night and is further disbelieving when Schultz answers, "Karaoke." Jason says, "You can't spend twelve hundred dollars on karaoke." Schultz responds, "Depends on who you karaoke with. And what you mean by karaoke." I've actually been brought in as an outside expert to resolve this conflict, and I have to say: Schultz is right. You find yourself and twenty of your closest friends in a private room inside a Korean-run karaoke establishment, pressing a button to have beer brought in to you, and a Dance Dance Revolution machine in the corner, you're spending at least that much on karaoke. And, as further evidence of my expert knowledge, let me say truthfully that I never once had to look up how to spell "karaoke." The Wonder Twins talk law, law, law for a while until Lou ambles in telling them he's got a copier installed, so what are they doing there? Jason asks, "Where?" Where else could Lou be referring to but an R.V.? Oh, this show had such potential.

Courthouse. As they walk up to the door of the courtroom, Jason pauses and starts breathing deeply. Apparently this is the same courtroom he argued in the day he got kicked out of his house. He asks for a minute, the Desperate Heartbeats of Panic start taking over the soundtrack, and the editing goes all crazy and choppy. I hate this part. Schultz asks him if he's "spazzing out on me again?" and then starts talking in fast forward: "There's gotta be a limit to how many times a guy can spazz out. Princess, do I need to hold your hand?" until Jason yells out, "Just shut up, and let me handle this!" and snaps out of it. Schultz is triumphant: "See? No more self-help CDs. You got me, buddy."

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Head Cases

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