The Practice
Suffer The Little Children

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Ragdoll: C+ | Grade It Now!
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Love thy father

Hunky DA's Office. Mrs. Fletcher walks in and sits down as she says, "I thought you said you knew who did this?" Alan sits down too. On his pretty little tushy. The one that never got shot during his time in Easy Company. The one that wore those pretty little shorts while he was taking a sabbatical in Office Space. The one that fills out the typical Practice grey suits with such abandon. Sigh. Right. He says, "We think we do. But we don't have any real evidence." He explains that they can place the car in the area. Mrs. Fletcher wants to know if they had any witnesses. The Hunk of DA: "Only the brother, and he's not saying anything." Mrs. Fletcher takes off her coat. I'm jealous that she gets to stay awhile. "With the gang shootings, the witnesses don't usually come forward." Again, Mrs. Fletcher insists that her son was not in a gang. Alan understands that, "but the shooter is or was." Then, in a moment that can only be described as condescending, Alan insists that the woman, whose son had just been a victim of a violent crime, just has to be "patient." Okay, well, Mrs. Fletcher doesn't take kindly to Alan's advice; her face turns to stone, and then it starts to chip as she intends to give him a verbal spanking. Mrs. Fletcher: "You don't think you're going to get him, do you?" The Vindication Of The Victim March triumphs in this week's battle of the useless musical interludes. Alan stutters and asks her to remember that it's still really early in the investigation. What. Ever. Hunky DA seems to forget this is The Practice; it's the place where all normal timelines go to die. "Do you --" She honestly wants to know the answer to this question. Okay. Build it. Work it. Climb it. "Think you'll get him, Mr. Lowe?" In a moment of weakness, Alan admits that he doesn't know. And Mrs. Fletcher looks around the room with tears in her eyes.

The Cop Shop Where They Lock Up Your Pain. Alan "Dopest of the Lowe" rides in on his high horse, with his coattails flashing and his teeth shining. "Mike!" he screams. "Anything?" You know, Hunky DA kind of walks like Chandler. Nope. The cops haven't been able to scare a confession out of Stephen or his brother. But there is back-story; of course, there is back-story: "Stephen Miller's best friend was shot and killed by a Crip." Mike crosses his arms and makes his summation: "So he had motive." Where is he now? Mike explains he's still in custody, although Ellenor Frutt is "still all over [them] on that." You can hear the wheels turning in Alan's devious little justice-seeking brain: "Okay. Release him. Wait until they get home. I'll get a warrant for Stephen, you can arrest him there." Now the really juicy part: "Then you can do a protective sweep of the house for weapons and, with any luck, you'll turn up the gun." Mike looks uneasy; he doesn't think that'll justify searching the whole house. Come on, he's a gang member, blah other gang member's weapons might be present, blah just do it, blah Hunky DA will worry about the Fourth Amendment issues later. Instantly, as if the angels had called her to them, Ellenor and her scary eyebrows appear to exclaim: "Alan! What's going on? You can't keep holding them in perpetuity." Alan deadpans, "We're releasing your clients, Ellenor. They are free to go." Oh. Really. Ellenor looks suspicious. And for very good reason, because Hunky DA is a sneak!

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The Practice

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