Judge Cooke's Chambers. Eugene and Emperor Rod sit semi-silently in the two chairs facing the judge's desk. They are in their "civilian" clothes. Rod is wearing a black leather jacket and a dark green shirt. It's not just Superman DEK's got a thing for; it's Spider-Man too. He's dressing his characters like the Green Goblin. Rod lets out a sigh the size of a windstorm on Lake Ontario in August and says, "Why wouldn't she tell us what it's about?" Eugene has no idea. Quick cut to a profile shot where you see half of Eugene's face. Why? Rod: "Have we broken any rules lately?" Not that Eugene knows about. In fact, Eugene's never even appeared before the judge. For that matter, neither has Rod.
In comes Judge Cooke. She looks kind of like a cross between Ana Gasteyer from Saturday Night Live and Glenn Close. While power-walking from the door to her desk, she apologizes to the pair for keeping them waiting. Then she says, "I think I'll skip the pleasantries and get right to it." Pause. "Lawrence O'Malley. You've heard of him?" Rod admits that "we" read the papers. Uh-huh. The fake Boston papers where they have the fake news. "Excellent. Then you're halfway up to speed." Can someone be halfway up to speed? I mean, either you're up to speed or you're not up to speed. I think that's one of the colloquialisms that can only be used in the correct context. "Yes. I am up to speed on the recent events." Not: "Well, I was getting up to speed and then I went to the store, fixed my bike and made some cookies, so I got halfway there." What freaking ever. At least on Gilmore Girls, when people talk quickly, they make sense.
Right. So, Judge Cooke sits down and continues, "You obviously know he thinks he's Hannibal Lecter. Tomorrow's papers will be covering his need for new counsel, which is where you come in." Oscar shakes his golden ass at the screen. He can't believe his damn luck. Then he hexes both DEK and his lovely wife from ever winning one in their collective lifetimes. Judge Cooke looks Bobby dead-on: "You're it." Rod begs her pardon. I mean, he knows he's "it," but he doesn't think they're talking about the same "it." Judge Cooke: "There will be no continuance for Mr. O'Malley. The trial will start the day after tomorrow." Rod lets go a gust of wind that could blow down my apartment building. The judge carries on, oblivious of the Emperor's Rod's lofty exhalations, as she says, "Which means, I need seasoned criminal defense attorneys that can jump in --" Rod interrupts, "Hold on a second." Judge Cooke ignores him: "The files are being delivered to your office as we speak --" Bobby rails, "You can't just assign us --" Judge Cooke sits forward in her chair and admonishes him for his impertinence: "What you need to know, Mr. Donnell, is that the judge doesn't like to be interrupted." While writing that sentence, I wondered if DEK had written the word "judge" with a capital "J" -- as if Cooke liked to refer to herself in the third person. Right. The Judge is still talking: "The trial starts on Tuesday." Pause. "You will be his lawyer." Pause. "In fact, I'm assigning your entire firm to it to ensure the bastard doesn't have any inadequate counsel appeals." Eugene's turn to resist: "What about our other cases?" Judge Cooke snarks, "I'll write you a note." Wow. She is a hard-ass: "Sorry to do this, boys, but your reputation speaks for itself. I need good lawyers who can jump in on a dime." What the heck does that mean? Another thing: DEK vacillates way too much between good rep/bad rep like he can't decide what the hell the Firm actually is -- a bunch of excellent lawyers who end up on the wrong side of the law every once in a while, or a bunch of hacks who necessarily circumvent the law on a regular basis. Eugene wants to know what happened to O'Malley's other lawyer. Judge Cooke says, "There was a conflict. Your client bit off his nose." Well. That would suck. Roll credits. Roll eyes. Go grab your Pepto-Bismol. We're in for a sweeps suck-travaganza.