There's a large community centre kind of room with a bunch of young kids all sitting at tables colouring and painting. Iris is there, annoying some kid by misapprehending her painting. Joan comes in, and Iris introduces her to the room. Joan and Iris walk together as Joan asks what they do with the kids. Iris: "Art therapy. Their mothers are domestic violence victims. Drawing helps to defuse the trauma. We work with them while their parents are in group therapy." Okay, wait a minute. First of all, the preferred terminology is "survivor," not "victim," and it has been for a long time. Second, a fifteen- or sixteen-year-old is running this program? "Art therapy" isn't just providing kids with supplies and unstructured time to use them. It's a whole field with ethics and standards and graduate programs. Third: Shouldn't Joan get some kind of training, some orientation? Something? Is this it? When I first volunteered at an AIDS hospice many years ago, my position did not even entail any contact with residents, but I had to do a sixteen-hour course just to organize the staff library. Anyway, Joan says, "Cool." Iris is puzzled: "Cool?" She just moves on, though, to showing Joan the schedule, where she's got Post-It notes booking Joan for 6:30-9:30 PM Thursday and Friday evening. Joan: "Thursday?" That's the night of the concert, of course.
Iris goes off to break up a paint fight, and Joan starts to shuffle the Post-It notes. From behind her, the voice of Little Girl God says, "Stick to the schedule, Joan." Joan turns, sees the back of Little Girl God, and notices that she's beckoning Joan over with her finger. Joan walks over to the table. Little Girl God is wearing a slate blue smock with some tiny print all over it, over some kind of burgundy top, along with a darker blue stocking cap with a red and white design on it. She's painting a rainbow. You'd think it'd be a pretty awesome rainbow, wouldn't you? Not so much. Yeah, sure, she can make the real thing. But as I said, I'm here to denigrate art. Joan sits down: "But I really want to go to the concert. Adam will kill me if I cancel!" Little Girl God puts the kibosh on the hyperbole: "He won't kill you." Frink does that, too. It's annoying. I can't get away with saying I'm "starving" or "freezing" or anything like that. Joan: "Please don't make me cancel on Adam. I can't stand him hating me again. It'd be like being in some Russian goulash." Little Girl God: "Gulag." She really emphasizes the final G. She adds, "I don't make you do things. I'm getting bored with saying that. Go to the concert if you want. By the way, they aren't brother and sister. They were a couple, but they broke up. Have fun." She gets up and walks away with a Godwave. Joan calls after her, "You know I'm not going, you jerk!" Everyone, including Iris, stares at the new chick who just called a little girl a jerk.
Roebuck is briefing Will and Tony about stuff. He says, "Gabe Fellowes, in an unabashed attempt to jump on the right side of the allied forces, is fast-tracking the crack house." Toni: "The one Will shut down?" Will: "And he refused to prosecute?" Toni: "And the DEA cried like a bunch of girls?" Roy: "Guys...I like the victory party, too..." Will: "We don't get a moment?" Roy says, "The big fish are on the docket next week." Will sneers about having slept through the grand jury. Roy wants them to go back out and make sure they didn't miss any evidence. Will's annoyed that he's expected to do something uniformed officers would normally do. Roy thought Will would want to oversee the details. Will: "That's where they say God is..." You can tell he doesn't believe it. Roy asks him what the problem is. Will: "In this whole fall of Saigon scenario, we're not only giving Fellowes what he wants, but we're giving it to him on his schedule! Is that what you're telling me?" Roy's confused, thinking Will would have been happy to see dealer ass in jail sooner: "If there's another agenda, please advise." Will kind of remembers his place and says, "I work for you." He leaves. It seems like he's starting to regret not being in charge. Roy and Toni look at each other, puzzled.