Abernathy: "And yet it's still amazing, every time."
Patti wanders to the back of the court, while Abernathy slowly circles the proceedings, and everybody just feels kind of crazy and middle-of-the-nighty. They're sitting at an intersection, it's the middle of the night, and nobody is watching.
Patti: "Nana Joe, how many fingers am I holding up?"
Nana Joe: "I don't know, like three?"
Patti: "Two, sorry. Sorry, old bitch."
Diane: "How many fuckin' fingers am I holding up?"
Diane: "Nana Joe, was he that far away from you the whole time?"
Nana Joe: "No, he walked past me on the way out. Hot as hell for a bit player."
Diane: "This close?"
Nana Joe: "Closer. I could smell the SAG card in his thoughts. It was especially weird because -- thanks to what's about to happen -- he never even testifies or comes back into it."
Diane: "Whoa, this close?"
(They are standing nose to nose, they are Eskimo Kissing. Inuit. One more and she'll be looking out the back of Nana Joe's head.)
Diane: "Nana Joe, how many fingers am I holding up?"
Nana Joe: "Just one, pointed right at Patti. I can see it clear as day."
But then Abernathy interrupts because they have the ballot box! Its location but not its provenance has been determined.
Abernathy: "The good news is, we don't have to tabulate the votes, they've already been tallied."
Diane: "You mean we might actually get some sleep?"
Abernathy: "The bad news is, they are 91.29% for Florrick."
Everybody sort of breathes and listens to their own breathing while they wait for the inevitable, and then shoom everybody's screaming the exact opposite of what they were just saying. It's so balls-out that everyone involved, including Abernathy, is just kind of punchy about it.
4th-Years: "We don't want to give Kalinda five percent of anything..."
Cary: "But it's incentive, since she's profit-sharing!"
4th-Year: "How is this not exactly what L/G did to us? Big promises followed by a yacht-fucking."
Cary: "They were committing to promises they couldn't back up..."
4th-Years: "This is because you slept with her that time."
Cary: "Maybe. But maybe not! But yes."
An oily fog pours across the fern-bar carpeting as Colin Sweeney suddenly transforms from a roiling mass of snakes into a sex-murderer, and sends them a round of drinks.