The Client Room Of Lunch Fun. At least Ray is eating his damn food. Ellenor, well, she's pacing. And yelling. And worrying. "Are you going to testify?" Oh, and did Lucy ever show up with those textbooks, has Ray really even consulted case law? Honestly? It's so silly. Ray hasn't decided yet. "Well, if you don't testify, how do you intend to prove that you acted out of necessity?" Ray keeps on eating. Ellenor: "Look, if I think this defense is a lie, I have to tell the judge." They bicker. Blah idiot blah. Ray: "You want to be helpful. You get me this guy. He's testifying downstairs." He passes her a piece of paper. She wants to know why Ray is doing what he's doing. And no, she doesn't mean why is he eating his lunch like it's his first meal after spending a month or two on a desert island. Ray quips, "Trial prep's really important." Ellie sits down beside him at the table. "You know what I mean!" Then she whines. Blah Ray used to trust her, blah when she said plead, blah he would plead blah. Ray turns to her. This cues The Lawyer Feeling Sorry For Herself Blues. "Did I let you down? What's changed?" Ray takes a deep breath. Apparently, it's not Ellenor. More time in prison would mean a death sentence, and not from the death penalty. Ellenor: "Then why did you kill him?" Ray throws down some stereotypes about being in prison, which I'm sure have a basis in reality -- it can't be a walk in the park, state prison -- but come on, how often have we heard that guys get killed over a pack of smokes? Honestly, at least put some effort into the story, writers. Yawn. Ray simply can't take it anymore. The longer the trial lasts, the less time he has to be in prison. Ellenor: "You killed him over cigarettes." Ray: "I said if." Then he happily carries on eating his tasty non-prison-issue lunch.