The Firm. Jimmy "The Lump" Berluti leads a woman into the conference room. She thanks him for seeing her on such short notice. Jimmy says, "It's been a long time." So it begins -- yet another episode of The Practice where so-called "friends" of The Firm come out of the woodwork looking for legal representation. Deborah Muntz replies, "Five years." Pause. She continues, "When you left the bank I remember Bill saying that you got a job in a law firm." Deborah looks like a younger Victoria Principal. Jimmy: "How is Bill? Is he okay?" Mrs. Muntz shakes her head, because, of course, Bill, Jimmy's long-lost friend from his banking days, is definitely not okay. Deborah: "It started slowly. He would forget things." They sit down and face one another. Jimmy: "Like amnesia?" The Serenade Of Sickness starts. No. Apparently, Bill is delusional. He's schizophrenic, and he's been like this for almost five years, which means Bill's health problems would have started sometime around when Jimmy left the bank. Deborah can't care for her husband any longer. She committed him to a mental institution two years ago. The Lament Of The Long-Suffering Wives continues as Deborah explains why she needs Jimmy's help. For the most part, Bill's lived in the institution without incident, until about eight months ago, when he fell out of a seventh floor window. Jimmy: "But he survived?" Deborah: "Yes. A canopy on the third floor broke his fall, that and a man named Edward Green." Who? Well, apparently, Bill landed on poor Ted Green and killed him instantly. You know, if they weren't so seriously discussing this, you would think they were talking about an episode of Wile E. Coyote and Roadrunner. Bill and Deborah are being sued. Jimmy: "Deborah. If you need a lawyer, I'll do whatever I can." She continues, "He thinks he's Superman." Huh? "My husband thinks that he is Superman." Jimmy doesn't know what to say. She knows it's hard to believe. Furthermore -- gasp -- she doesn't think he fell out the window; she thinks he was trying to fly! That's right. I wrote "fly."
They must have used old credits this week, because the lovely and talented Hunky D.A. is not present and accounted for. Which means the credits sucked more than they have in the last few months. In fact, I would rather live through the USA beating Canada in the gold medal game than have to endure these ridiculous credits. Thankfully, I won't have to. Go Team Canada! (Okay, I know the Olympics are over, but I did start to write this last Monday. And then it was only a day after Canada won the game.) Do you think if I throw a temper tantrum in front of DEK's studios, they'd bring Hunky D.A. back?
Rod's Office Where He Feels Marital Pain. Bobby and Lindsay are standing facing one another -- right next to the door. Blah she's got a hearing, blah he's got one two, blah his is in federal court blah. She snaps, "We're not making child-care decisions based on jurisdiction." He sighs. For the eight-millionth time, Lindsay whines, "Please. I need you to help me this one time. We need to find a new babysitter!" Oh. My. Goodness. Stop the presses. They are discussing their child. The sire of Rod. The baby Rodster. The Rod-spring. Who'd have thought? Now, their Palm Pilots are dueling. Blah he's got a full plate. Blah she's got a full plate. Lindsay: "But that never seems to count! Meanwhile, you keep taking on new cases!" Rod: "I'm being criticized for that now? We need new cases to keep this place running." Lindsay counter-argues, "Sometimes you need to choose family before work!" So says the woman who spends upwards of eighteen hours in the office. Ha! Lucy sticks her head into Bobby's office and interrupts. Wardrobe has stopped dressing her like a schoolmarm. There are no more brooches. It's all after-school specials, specifically, leather. She cracks, "Sorry! This sounds like a pretty good fight but they're all waiting." Blah. Lindsay storms out. Rod sighs some more. Ragdoll rolls her eyes. Did they catch that on tape?