Judicial conduct fishcakes. MacNeil's opportunity to clear his name. He resigns rather than discuss the case at hand, or the whole homosexual thing, or anything. The Ominous Piano of Martyrdom clonks, and MacNeil storms out of the room. I don't care. Do you care? Nobody cares. I wish they could do this stupid show without this boring courtroom stuff. Because it ain't Law and Order here, people.

Ranch. Maxine yells at Peter for overly coddling the spoiled Evie. To take attention off of himself, Peter presents Vincent's review, which Maxine and Amy pounce on. Enter Spoiled Evie. Oh, how I wish I could think of a clever Eve/Tree of Knowledge/Paradise Lost joke here, but I'm getting stupider every week and this was a bad one. Week, I mean. See, with the stupid? God. Anyway, Evie wants to borrow Gillian's car. She stamps and whines and bitches like a spoiled baby. Peter bends over and takes it. Maxine suggests that Evie take the bus, and then starts talking about Evie as though Evie were not there, telling Peter that Evie is manipulating him, and that she's not so stupid as to give her baby to someone else, when she can clearly see what a good gig the kid will have with Peter and Gillian. I beg to differ, since I would probably run away if Peter were my father, but whatever. Evie gets all bratty and actually says, "It's my baby and I'll do whatever I want with it and you can't stop me!" and runs up the stairs to cut the all hair off her Barbie dolls in a fit of pique. Peter glares and shambles up the stairs after her. Amy snips that Maxine ought to butt out, and actually tells her mother that she "doesn't know everything." And then the sky opened, and blood fell like rain from the heavens, and the earth cracked, and crumbled, and Amy was struck dead, as if by the hand of God. Actually, she rattles on for a while, about being supportive, and about their not being able to understand being infertile and yadda, yadda yadda. Maxine greets this outpouring with a glare and one raised eyebrow. She snatches the folded newspaper from Amy's hands, and as God is my witness, I thought she was going to smack her with it. Sadly, no such luck, as she just stomps out the door. Amy stamps her feet. I stamp my feet. The neighbors pound on my ceiling with a broom handle.