The Practice
Evil-Doers

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Ding-dong, the psycho is dead

Judge Rodney White's Chambers. It's still dark out, so I'm assuming that this is still the same evening. Helen works long hours. Eugene and Jimmy are in chambers with Helen. Judge White says, "What do you mean it's lost?" Helen insists that the findings aren't lost, just the rape kit itself. White wants to know who lost the damn thing. Helen doesn't know. Eugene: "We thought that it had been sent to our lab. We've been waiting for the results. We called them again today, and they told us they'd never even received it." The judge asks if Helen's storage records show that the kit was "sent out." No. The judge shakes his head. He can't believe something in the Boston legal system has been screwed up again. Quite frankly, neither can I -- yawn. Eugene: "Your Honour. Since we were not afforded the opportunity to conduct our own tests, the DNA evidence has to be excluded." Helen steps forward, turns to Eugene, and says bitingly, "You can cross our technician." Eugene turns his head sideways and responds, "It's not the same as doing our test -- and you know it." The judge purses his lips. Then he rules: "I can't let it in, Ms. Gamble." She argues, "Your Honour, they weren't even serious about doing their own test! Why did they wait until the eve of this trial?" Eugene guffaws, "We're serious about it now." Helen snaps, "This is amusing to you, Eugene?" The judge insists that if the D-Fence counsel didn't get access to the evidence, the DNA has to be excluded. It's as simple as that.

Holding Cell Where Clients Wince In Waiting Pain. Jerry Cochran is pacing. Why do all the clients pace when the lawyers come into the cell to meet with them? Only the crazy ones sit down. In fact, there are two types of clients on this show: 1) hotheads, and 2) the certifiably insane. And then DEK sends us all on a giant game of snakes and ladders, up one chute, down another, until he deems it necessary to actually let us in on what's going on. The California coastal highway doesn't have as many hairpin turns as one of these episodes. Let's do a mini-cap: Helen's got this rape case; her side's lost the evidence, and now she might lose the case. All this happened in about three minutes of actual airtime. Elsewhere, Lindsay's climbing down the ladder called Seriously Losing It from ONE prank phone call. No one even bothered to check the number and solve the mystery of who the hell actually called her. Because we don't believe in anything other then DRAMA on this show. Does it heighten the DRAMA? Is the DRAMA served by this scene? Can we be DRAMATIC by having a breathless phone call? Please. I'm drowning in DRAMA. Can someone please throw me a lifeboat? No, Anvil -- thanks for offering your services, but I'm pretty sure I'd be sunk if I hung on to you. Right. I'm recapping.

Jerry Cochran paces around the cell like an expectant father before they were allowed in the birthing rooms. He says, "So what's that mean?" Eugene explains, "It means their whole case now is the victim's I.D." Jimmy continues, "Let's not get cocky. At probable cause, she was pretty convincing." Eugene: "At least now they're offering a plea." Jerry steps to the right. He sidesteps back to the left. He asks, "What is it?" The lawyers stand so still you'd think their feet were glued to the floor. Eugene responds, "Fifteen years." No way, man! He can't do fifteen years. More pacing, coupled with lots of head-shaking. Eugene says, "Third strike, Jerry. If you're convicted you get life." Jerry shuffles over to the table and bends down. He says urgently, "Look. I got a twin brother, suppose we put him at the table and let her identify him. That's reasonable doubt." Eugene insists that this is not an option. Jerry "Jumpy" Cochran bounces around the cell some more. He whines, "I ain't doin' no fifteen." He puts his left foot in and he shakes it all about. Then he continues, "Rape victims supposed to be shaky." He takes a couple of panting breaths. "Let's go to trial. And Eugene. Don't hold back on this bitch." Eugene gives him a patented you're-a-scumsucking-sleazebag look.

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The Practice

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