The Firm. Jennifer is there with her daughter. The whole Firm stands behind Jimmy as he gives her the good news. Mathis has coughed up $175,000, as long as Jennifer signs a confidentiality agreement. She's stunned. Jimmy thinks they should take the deal. And she agrees. Then she thanks him. Aw, there's nothing to instill a sense of community like a down-on-her-luck hooker who had the good sense to get herself raped by a big-shot lawyer. Everyone smiles. Jennifer thanks everyone. She's. Just. So. Emotional. As the rest of the players clomp their way out of the scene, Jimmy takes the moment to lecture the young woman: "Jennifer. Listen. This guy Mathis, if he's capable of rape, we just left him pretty hot. I don't want you ever going back to the Palmer House." Blah, daughter, blah could have been killed, blah start over blah. Jennifer says, "I will. And not just for her. For you." Ah. Please. Oh. Wait. Ah. I can't get my eyeballs to return to their normal position. They've rolled so far back into my head that I think I'm permanently blind. Ouch. Okay. They're back. Jimmy responds, "You don't owe me nothing." Yawn. Jennifer says, "I owe you my life, Jimmy, and I'll never forget it." She hugs him. They bond. I roll my eyes back. I beg you all to cover your eyes too.
Suffering County Courthouse. We're back for closing arguments. Old D.A. X claims Daniel's guilty. Blah evidence, blah semen, blah feared her lover, blah calculated murder, blah previous charge blah.
I hate the closing arguments. They are redundant. They are annoying and redundant. They are annoyingly redundant in their annoying redundancy.
Joey's argument is good. He's quirky, stylish, and full of vim and vigour. Joey understands the prosecution's case. But he argues that the evidence needs to establish reasonable doubt, and they haven't. Didn't rule out that they made love, alibi, home alone, can't prove otherwise, blah. Joey blames the husband. Then he blames the son. Then he calls on Freud. Freud does a two-step. The judge is impressed, and so am I. Then Joey goes off on this other tangent, seemingly out of nowhere: "Suppose Danny Carrington had another lover. No evidence to be sure, but they didn't even investigate that. But is it really that farfetched? The other lover gets wind of the little session at the club, goes to the victim's house, threatens her, forces her to make that phone call to implicate Danny, then he or she kills the woman and dumps the body in the alley knowing full well who the police will blame." Blah plants the blood speck blah. Danny is the obvious suspect. But it could have been anybody. It could have been one of you. Maybe the judge. Joey pauses. Then he says flippantly, "Maybe me?" Bobby and Ellenor look knowingly at one another. Joey continues, "Could it have been a bonehead stupid murder by Danny, or one of the more perfect variety by somebody else to frame him?" Blah husband, blah stepson, female lover, sick gay lover, blah anybody. Beyond all reasonable doubt, we just don't know. And with that, Joey Heric sits his big gay ass down, turns to Rod, and smirks his undeniably freaky smirk. Ah, Joey, you and your narcissistic disorder rock.