Shout-out to Queen B.
Joan's in Doctor Dan's swanky, earth-toned, mid-century modern office, telling him about a dream she once had about a talking sea turtle named Lady. She says they did everything together: talked, played cards, swam, and ate junk food. "When I woke up, I missed her so much. Even though…she was never real. I mean, especially because…because she wasn't real." Doctor Dan helpfully points out, "But Judith was real, Joan." Joan says Lady was an exotic, magical creature: "She belonged to me; nobody else had a friend like her. And then I actually…found someone who was like…a talking sea turtle. I mean, she was…magical, and…exotic." Joan glances anxiously at Doctor Dan, who's busy scribbling notes. "You're totally not following me, are you?" Doctor Dan looks up: "It's normal to be angry with someone who dies. You feel abandoned." Thanks, Doctor Dumb. And could you also tell me: when I feel full, is that a good time to stop eating? Joan's a little peeved, too: "So what happens in psychiatry school, hmm? What, they suck out every original thought?" Doctor Dumb informs Joan that she's transferring her anger onto him. Joan: "No, I'm actually angry with you." Doctor Dumb: "You know why?" Joan: "'Cause you're a jerk." Heh. Doctor Dumb: "I took God away from you. I destroyed that magical and exotic friendship. More than ever, you wish he were real." Joan leans forward: "Lots of people believe in God who are not crazy: Isaac Newton. Bono. Pretty much anyone who wins an award." She kinda runs out of steam there. Doctor Dumb: "Believing is one thing. Seeing is another." Isn't seeing believing? He adds, "Are you seeing him again?" Joan sits there with her arms crossed. She doesn't meet his eyes, but she allows the barest trace of a smile to begin crossing her face.
Outside, Helen asks if it went well. Joan says it went fine. Helen asks if it helped. Joan: "Mom, my friend died. I'm sad. Apparently that's normal." Helen: "Joan…" Joan says she went and talked to Doctor Dumb like she wanted, but she doesn't want to see him anymore. Helen: "Why not?" Joan: "He has nose hair." Helen does not think that's a reason. Joan says Helen can't keep dragging her to the shrink every time something bad happens. Helen approaches their car, only to find she's getting a ticket. The meter reader dings her for $28. Helen can't believe it: "I was just taking my daughter to see a counsellor." Joan: "Mom!" Like Lovely Rita cares, anyway. She tells Helen she's just doing her job. Helen declares, "Unbelievable!" and Joan gives Lovely Rita a dirty look. Lovely Rita says her meter ran out. Joan stops getting into the car: "What?" Lovely Rita: "Her time ran out." Joan comes over: "Oh, really? That's your defense? 'Her time ran out.' That's the best you can do when it comes to the point of human existence?" It seems clear Joan thinks Lovely Rita is God, and at this point, it's anyone's guess. She continues, "'Sorry, time's up. Too bad about all those people you loved and all the plans you had.' You know, it must be really great to know that your time's never gonna run out." Lovely Rita is puzzled but not particularly perturbed: "What?" Helen honks impatiently. Joan: "Coming!" She gets in the car and tells her mother, "Just drive." As they back out of the space, we see Joan's troubled face in the rear-view mirror. Frink: "There's no way we should be seeing Joan in the rear-view mirror." Yeah, I'm thinking Helen might want to adjust that. Theme song.
The Girardis are having a meeting with their lawyer at the house. Hey! They decided to stick with the shark, Chuck Kroner. I'm really surprised Helen went along with that after their initial meeting. She's sitting as far away from him as she can, though, just so he doesn't get any ideas that she might care for him or his approach. She might have poisoned those muffins, though. I notice Will and Kevin aren't touching them. He informs them the Bakers have agreed to do the depositions in his office: "'Too emotional to travel?' That's going to sound great in the court when the jury's staring at my client. End of the day, they would have done it in your living room." Helen says she still doesn't understand why the kids have to participate. Kroner thinks it's great: "It'll work for us. The more kids you have, the more lives that are ruined. Tell them to load it up, too. Usually the deposition rule is: monosyllables. When it comes to describing the night of this accident, I wanna hear violins playing." To Kevin: "That goes triple for you, kiddo." Kevin: "No problem." Will says, "Chuck, we're on board with the aggressive approach but this language upsets my wife." Helen says she can speak for herself. Will: "Okay, then it upsets me." Kroner: "Litigation, people, not synchronized swimming." Joan interrupts to say, "Mom, no pressure, but all the clothes I like are dirty…sorry…" You know, I strongly believe any teenager ought to be able to do his or her own laundry, but we've already seen that Joan is exceptionally deficient in that area. Will introduces them: "Joan, Chuck Kroner. Our daughter is wearing her least favourite clothes." Hee. Chuck says it's nice to meet her, and informs everyone he really has to run: "In my profession, time actually is money." Unlike writers, who get paid by the letter? Shut it, Kroner. As he leaves, Helen gives Will a sour look, which is met with a slightly sheepish glance of his own. Joan: "What's with Captain Creepy?" No one speaks. Kevin sighs, shrugs, and shakes his head. Joan: "Whatever it is, I am not going to therapy." She hustles upstairs.