Push, Nevada
Storybook Hero

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One Night in Prufrock and the World's Your Oyster

Prufrock considers the implications of having a lawyer in attendance: "So I've been charged?" Yes. Jeez. We practically watched that happen. How did everyone but me get a "Just Wake Me Up When Something Happens, I Guess" clause written into their contracts? Pawn is typically chipper enough to plot-develop for us, expositing for what very well may be the only line this episode to do so, "Murdering Oswald Wilkes!" She mutters on, something about a "serial killer," and Sheriff Relaxo assures her, "Hey, I'm still working on that angle, deputy." As if there were any more angles from which to view this freakin' room. And I was starting to get the distinct feeling that those two weren't exactly on the level anyway. Sheriff Relaxo continues that "the judge" (what judge?) set Jim's bail at "nine-hundred thousand." Jim repeats it so that Affleck can watch the dialogue prompt skip over onto the next page in his Final Draft document and he can take a cognac break to kick back and work on what he really does well. Failing! Either way, Jim deems the amount "preposterous" (though still less than the cumulative amount of money LivePlanet owes its fans before ABC lets the clown holding the broom loose on the set of this dead, dead show), and Sheriff Relaxo suggests that Jim take this matter up with his lawyer.

But as Jim walks into the waiting room of the station, we do a quick, zoomy cut which is shocking and inventive and totally, totally new for those of us who have never seen Go, movies about raves, movies about teenagers, movies at all, that first ever Lumiere film about the train pulling into the station, or five seconds of any music video in history including the one for Van Halen's "Dreams," which is literally just a four-minute clip of military planes taking off. At the other end of Fast-As-You-Cam is Jim's ostensible "lawyer," a suited bald man whose aspect would be a lot more Sexy Beast if he maintained either sexy or bestial qualities of any kind. Jim's not happy but he sure ain't surprised, and he turns back to Sheriff Relaxo and Pawn, letting them know and speaking in unison with us, "That's not my lawyer." Sheriff Relaxo begs to differ (as I beg for sweet, sweet death), responding with considerable conviction, "Sure it is! That's public defender Pete Pantip. Fine attorney. Ivy League boy." And what did we learn about Ivy League boys last week on Push, Nevada? That's right! That they love singing a cappella music! Well, at least there's something to look forward to now, eh? But Jim thinks otherwise, stating by sight, "He's not Ivy League-educated." What gave it away on appearance, Jim? The cheap suit? The inferior job? The lack of a kitschy "My lawyer and my money go to Yale!" bumper sticker on the back of Pantip's leased Kia? Is it because he's not singing "Hodja"? Sheriff Relaxo breaks up like he actually finally got someone to pull his finger, copping (paradoxically enough) to it: "He may not be Ivy League-educated, but he is the finest in town." That's the good news. The bad news is this scene now has absolutely no chance of ending with even the opening measure of "Java Jive." Oh, wait. That's the good news, also.

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Push, Nevada

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