Adam's leaning against the lockers in the hall outside when Joan storms past in tears. When she sees him, she sobs, "Please, don't follow me. I'll see you later!" Adam, confused, as ever: "But…" Joan: "Please!"
She walks along a city street, past an old man with a walker, who's just dropped his grocery bag. She's oblivious in her self-absorption, but he calls to her and asks for help. She picks up his stuff and hands it to him. He replies, "Thanks, Joan." She lights into him: "How could you do that to me? I just wanted something that was mine, something that made me feel special!" Old Man God, he is tired: "Yes, yes, I know, everybody wants to feel special." Joan: "Adam thought I was so cool." Old Man God says that Adam is a very sweet boy. Joan wants to know why God would take that away from her. He says he didn't tell her to be a photographer. Joan: "You sent me there! They gave me a camera!" He wanted her to work on the yearbook: "And I'd still like you to do it. Just go back to the yearbook, and work with the obnoxious kid." Joan's incredulous: "You are so mean! And what's with this stupid walker? You don't even need it, anyway!" She grabs it away and starts walking down the street with it, right into a couple of horrified citizens. She turns around and puts it back in front of Old Man God, with a look that could fry butter. Then she stomps away, leaving him there to look bewildered for the benefit of the passersby. I wonder if God goes home and laughs about these shenanigans later. Maybe God regales the angels with long-winded yarns of awesome gags played on witless humans. And the angels just have to suck it up, because there's never a time God's not around and they can let off a little steam by complaining. ["This is the most reasonable explanation for the genesis of Milton's Lucifer that I've heard yet." -- Sars]
Helen and Will are getting ready for bed as Helen rants about Brian firing Joan: "And there I was, the advisor who couldn't do anything and the mother who wanted to throttle the little twit." Will's sure she was objective and fair. Helen: "Yeah, and now I'm riddled with guilt and remorse." Will: "The permanent condition of parenthood." She talks about being unable to help wanting to take away all of her little girl's sorrow and pain. Will: "I know. But all we can really do is provide a safe and loving environment where our children can fail and be miserable." Heh. Helen: "How Mister Rogers of you." Okay, that might be a shout-out: Will's thread on our forums has been called "Dirty Harry meets Mister Rogers" for several months now. Will says, "We all have drama in our lives. They have to learn that. It's a matter of degree. Us? We're lucky." Helen asks, "What is it?" He tells her about the case they're working on. He doesn't understand how a guy gets to the point of killing the mother of his children. Helen: "After all these years as a cop, that still surprises you?" Will looks down. Helen: "You are a gentle, loving man, Will Girardi." He admits to being a little jealous every so often. Helen says, "Please," as she prowls toward him. He protests, "What? Look at you!" She does look hot, as usual. She's wearing a clingy sleeveless shirt and clingy pyjama pants. Will continues: "Those eyes, the way you move…" She puts her hands on his shoulders and asks if he's going to start singing. Will: "I'm just saying…" She laughs, and he asks why. She explains it's just nice that he still gets jealous; she thought only she did. Will leans back in the chair and asks, "You? With this gut?" Helen: "I've seen women checking you out." Will pulls her down onto him and says, "Oh, yeah?" Helen: "Yeah. That's my gut." They make out. They are so cute.