They break for lunch. Another session, another chance for Alicia to prod the bruise and pretend she doesn't know exactly what she's doing.
SHARMA & THE WARRIOR SAINT
The IRS guys are every bit as amazing looking as the Treasury guys, and every bit as brutally nerdy.
Alicia: "Okay, just tell us what you need."
IRS: "Everything we already told you we needed."
Alicia: "Okay because I gave you all that stuff."
IRS: "No, we need more specific shit."
IRS: "Um, because we're talking about an incredibly shady Canadian immigrant with multiple identities and superpowers? Financial transparency being a sign of ethical responsibility? Who evades taxes is rich white guys, drug dealers, assassins and hookers. Which one of those is Kalinda Sharma? Maybe all, maybe just some."
Alicia: "Uh, she's not being accused of a crime at all. And that's not your department anyhow."
Kalinda rolls her eyes so expressively that they light on the computer behind the main guy, which is clearly teleconferencing in such a way that the person can see out, but we can't see the person. Hmm.
Alicia: "Okay like one weird check doesn't open her up to an entire fishing expedition, you gross creeps. We're outta here."
Alicia: "The fuck was that? I am so pissed at the entrenched power structure today! Stop cockblocking me! Stop cockblocking my house offer! Stop cockblocking justice! I could take on motherfucking Antonin Scalia right now! I could physically fight him, swear to God!"
Kalinda: "You are on a tear, lady. You are chock full of beans. Oh, and PS there's totally something going on. The computer was spying on us."
Alicia: "I motherfucking hate computers!"
She turns on one heel, just pivots like an acrobat, and launches herself back into the office to scream at the blank computer about its bitchassedness. It is one of the most amazing things you've ever seen with your eyes in this lifetime, Alicia Florrick bucking at a black-screened computer like it just called her frat brother a fag. Which I guess it sort of did.
Alicia: "If you want something from me, you fucking come to my office! Stop using these poor dickless IRS dudes and just come at me, bro! I am in the mood! I dare you, shitslice!"
As the poor IRS dudes pick themselves up off the floor, Alicia power-walks out of there so hard the building shakes.