Judging Amy
Drawing The Line

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Drawing The Line

CBS congratulates Judging Amy on nailing three Emmy nominations. Where's my "thank you"? Where would these chuckleheads be without me? Nowhere! I made this show what it is today, with my witty commentary and clever analysis. I totally did. Girl, you know it's true.

Amy's in the courtroom. Some dude with a drug-sniffing dog found a bag of weed on this punky looking kid. Amy's presiding over a motion to suppress the evidence. Bruce, for once, isn't staring at his teeny tiny desk, but at Donna, whose hair looks, well, just like Amy's, all wavy and headbanded. Blah, blah, blah, the lawyers talk and Amy talks and I talk to myself to drown them out. Amy asks the lawyers to submit their arguments for and against suppression in writing, and dismisses the lot of them. As they shuffle out, Donna tottles over to Amy's desk with some papers. Amy leans back in her chair and sighs, "Donna, your hair." Donna says she changed it because her hairdresser thought her 'do was looking "lachrymose." She starts to explain the meaning of lachrymose, but Amy interrupts and tells her that she knows what the word means, she's just never heard it applied to hair. "Your hair looks...nice," Amy finally forces, with about as much enthusiasm as a coma patient. Donna smiles sweetly and sails off. Amy stares at Bruce, who widens his eyes in a "that girl is whack, yo" expression. Except Bruce would never say the words "yo," or "whack." Of course, Bruce never gets to say any words. Because he never has any lines. Because Amy Brenneman is scared that he can act circles around her. Because he can.

Back at the Ranch, Gillian and Peter show Maxine pictures from Evie's ultrasound. Maxine seems rather unimpressed, probably because Twiddledee and Twiddledumb are getting in the way of her cooking breakfast. Peter points out the baby's legs, and the baby's feet, and the baby's penis, all proudly, as though he had anything whatsoever to do with the formation of his child's genitalia. Lauren is stunned and amazed that Peter said "penis." "That's a bad word," she trills, her mouth in a teeny "O" of shock. "Not when it's that small," Maxine snorts. Tee hee. I'm so glad I stopped resisting the power of Maxine. Just give in to her power. Don't fight it. Come over to the dark side. Amy comes clattering down the stairs, spilling books and papers everywhere. She announces that she's teaching a class at Yale. I guess Harvard, her own alma mater, didn't want her. As she gathers her note cards, and books, and papers, and notebooks -- dude, Amy, get a backpack -- Lauren starts asking all kinds of pesky questions about the baby, and his penis, and why the two of them -- the baby, and the penis -- are inside Evie and not Gillian if Gillian is the baby's mommy, and Amy more or less tells Lauren to shut the hell up and get in the car. As Lauren pouts and tumbles off the stool at the breakfast bar, Maxine's Batphone rings, calling her to save the world. She dashes out. Maxine, you forgot your lasso of truth!

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Judging Amy

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