Martin scrambles for an excuse, saying it was a problem with the Tennessee regulators (as Stabler is shaking his head), and that as soon as he got to his office, he had his assistant page Tucker to set up a meeting. Benson's turn to be in his face now. "You think we're from Peapatch, Frank? Because this isn't a farm, but you are in some pretty deep horse manure." She points to the papers and makes him look as she spells it out for him. "The call that we're talking about was at 8:22 PM. Not AM. 8:22 in the evening. New York City time." Martin insists that his assistant will back him up. Stabler's had enough, and rails, "Stop with the CEO routine, okay. We're all just plain folks here. Sit down." And he slams Martin down into a chair. Hee! Martin's all offended, "Hey! You don't have to get nasty!" Dude, I thought you liked the rough stuff. Benson's coming at him from the other side of the room, in his face now, "Nasty? Nasty is putting out your cigarette on your executive assistant's thigh. Nasty is cheating little old ladies from Tennessee out of their life savings. And choking the air out of Layla Briggs's windpipe, and then leaving her corpse for her mother to find? That's definitely nasty." Okay, who else has old-school Janet Jackson running through their heads after all that Nasty Talk? Martin wants his lawyer. Stabler reminds him that he called his lawyer three hours ago, but the lawyer hasn't returned his calls. "Think he checked your credit?" Hee! Then slowly, so that maybe Martin will finally get it: "Amy has turned you in." Benson tries to use this to get him to admit that he choked Layla, but he says he didn't, Tucker did. "Because of the stolen diamonds?" asks Stabler. "No, we didn't even know about that," Martin answers. "It was strictly for kicks." Then can someone tell me why in the HELL I've just spent the last seven thousand fricking words chronicling a diamond plot? AARRGGHHH! Anyway, my boyfriend Elliot Stabler is angered and sickened by this, but Martin's confessing, so he suppresses his gag reflex long enough to listen. "I was doing her, and Tucker started squeezing her throat, you know [no, I don't know, you sick fuck], just massaging it really. She liked it, but then her eyes said 'stop.'" "So why didn't he?" Benson asks. Martin responds, "He'll claim it was for my benefit, but the truth is that was the biggest turn-on for him. Not the sex part -- the seeing how far you could go. And he went all the way." EEWWWWUH! Show of hands -- who else needs a long hot shower in pure lye after that?