All language subtitles for s09e03_-_my_life_as_a_dog_lawyer

Harry, hurry up with Dan's welcome back
card.

Well, I hope this doesn't embarrass him.

Harry, the man was living in the sewer.

Just write something from the heart like
we did.

I mean, like, Dan, welcome back. Glad
you traded your straitjacket for a sport

jacket. Love ya, Ross.

Here they are, your tickets for the
train to Good Luckville.

Oh, man. Man, these are chain letters.

Oh, I hate these things.

Yeah, you'd have to be a real idiot to
send these.

They're from me.

Nuff said.

I can honestly say I have never answered
one of these.

That probably explains why you still
live alone and drive a Vega.

But don't worry, this chain letter is
going to turn it all around. Just look

at all the good luck other folks have
had.

Doris Schaefer was nine months pregnant
when she answered this letter.

The next day, she had a baby boy and
lost 45 pounds.

This chain has also been linked to 462
rodeo winners.

Quiet.

Break the chain, but I'm not responsible
for all the bad luck you're about to

receive.

Hi, guys. Hey, Dan.

Put up a chair.

No, I don't have time. I just came by to
say hi. Hi.

Hey, Dan.

Nice suit.

That's one of my suits.

Nice suit.

Dan, we all chipped in and we bought you
a welcome back present. Yeah, I hope you

like it. Looks like something you could
use.

Thank you, guys.

Yeah, I'm a little, uh...

It's short on worldly goods right now.

I'm just grateful to the DA's office for
letting me still work, even if it is in

a lower court.

Well, I'm sure it's only a temporary
assignment, Dan. In the meantime, it's

good to have you back, pal.

Thanks.

I've missed that sound.

Dan Fielding's back on track.

on track. It must have been one hell of
a derailment.

Paul, what happened?

I don't know.

The strange thing is that it happened in
the men's room.

See? Your bad luck has already started.

And as much as I support the spirit of
entrepreneurship, I'm afraid that

letting him have it his way, that way,
does qualify as solicitation.

$55 in time, sir.

And what's next on the menu, big man?

Uh, people versus street gold, sir.

Get your hands off of my imported surf
jacket, thank you.

Sorry.

Well, what happened to your neck?

Uh, trouble with my locker, Ross.

More of your bad luck.

How bad?

They had to use the jaws of life.

Now, what's the buzz, Miss Maddox?

That's Ms., Your Honor.

And the buzz happened at Maison de Ville
when the defendant, Mr. Strico, tried to

exit the restaurant without paying the
check.

It was their fault. The bananas flambé,
they did not flam.

Clearly a case of...

Menu fraud, Your Honor.

What a subtle defense.

Virtually non-existent.

But prior to entering the restaurant,
the defendant used his limo to push a

car out of a handicapped parking space.

It was raining. I was wearing suede
shoes.

That happened to me once, except it
wasn't raining and they weren't my

shoes.

Come to think of it, it wasn't even me.

Miss Hockheiser, button.

Mr. Strico's tirade continued when he
cut through a line of people, slapped

the maitre d' with his glove, and
compared the man's reproductive organs

to a plate of baby vegetables.

Sir, I am the damaged party here.

Because of that poor excuse for cuisine,
my well-endowed American date walked out

during the sorbet bonbon.

I'm sure it wasn't your stimulating
repartee.

You wish to kiss me, don't you?

Kiss my... Objection!

Well-timed, Miss Sullivan.

No, no, we're not entering a plea. We're
claiming diplomatic immunity.

Wow, diplomatic immunity. We haven't had
one of those in a long time.

He says he's the ambassador from Rogash.

Rogash. I haven't heard of that country.

Say something in Rogash.

It is Roganese, and it sounds very much
like English. As a matter of fact, I'm

speaking it now.

Gee, I'd give anything to speak a second
language like that.

Mr. Strico, do you have any proof or any
ID that might help persuade the court?

No, I don't carry a wallet.

It would ruin the lines in my $700
gabardine pants.

However, I do have a lucan.

Figures. He's got no ID, but he carries
around a tropical bird.

A lucan is our currency.

That's my uncle.

He's the president. See? We have same
eyes.

And they look like honest eyes to me,
sir.

Yeah, right. Uh, Mr. Strico, I'm having
trouble buying any of this. But immunity

aside, that kind of outrageous public
behavior does not pass without a ruling

in my court.

Well, I say poofed to the rules of your
court and the hossy that they rode in

on.

Well, I say poofed right back at you,
pal.

What? Mac, see if you can get an ID
verification on our visitor from

Hogwash. That is Rogosh!

Yeah, I'm sure it is. Roz, why don't you
take him down and show him the

ambassador suite?

This is an outrage.

You'll be hearing from my cousin, the
minister of state. I do not know who you

are dealing with.

I am immune.

Move it, and we'll see how immune your
butt is to my boot.

and petty theft.

It seems as though he dug up a shank
bone belonging to my client, Montgomery,

which he had carefully buried under his
favorite tree. I have an affidavit from

his veterinarian which attests to recent
listlessness, and I quote, Montgomery

won't even respond to his squeaky toys.

Defense? Your Honor.

Look at this!

That's the face of a thief? No.

That's the face of a good dog. A good,
good doggie.

I agree.

Archie is a good doggie.

And he found the bone under a tree on
public property.

Case dismissed.

You're not a dog lover, are you,
Fielding?

I've had my share.

People versus Sparky.

Hello, Sparky.

Go ahead, Feldman.

Fielding.

Whatever.

Proceed.

Disturbing the peace, you're on a
violation. of civil code 60213. Cut to

the chase, Fieldstream.

It's a barking case.

I have, um, several complaints from
Sparky's neighbors that his incessant

barking kept them up at night. I would
like to submit this audio cassette

recording of Sparky's bark as people
exhibit A.

Did Sparky consent to being taped?

No, he's a dog.

You should know that this tape is
inadmissible evidence, Feldstein.

Defense? Your Honor.

Look at this tape!

Is that the face of a noisy dog?

No, it is the face of a good dog.

A good doggie.

Sparky, are you a dog who only speaks?

when spoken to?

Clearly, this cannot be the doggie in
question.

Case dismissed.

Your Honor,

could I have a few minutes to gather my
dignity?

Okay. Five minutes reset for walkies.

A diplomat means never having to say
you're sorry.

Story checked out.

Yep. Strico is the ambassador of Rogosh.

He's only been in the U.S. for two
months, and this is his fifth arrest,

but he's never been tried.

Diplomatic community.

What do you think, Mac?

Well, he's a pompous ass, but our hands
are tied.

I took the liberty of bringing him down
from holding.

I can't believe I have to let that idiot
go.

These diplomatic guys really get me
boiling.

They get all the good seats to the best
shows.

Their children all get into the best
private schools.

And they always slide by with more than
ten items in the express lane.

These jerks really scald me.

You got stood up by one, huh?

He wasn't my type anyway.

There he is, Your Honor.

Bull, why are you in cuffs?

The key broke off in the lock.

Then I dislocated my shoulder attempting
a daring Houdini escape.

How about those chain letters?

Help me.

So, bye, Bull.

Bye, sir.

How dare you put me in a cell with
common criminals?

The place smelled like wet goats.

Make you homesick, Ambassador?

You wish to kiss me, don't you?

All right, Strico, the law says I have
to let you go.

You should be kissing Uncle Sam's toes
and apologizing right now.

Royalty does not apologize.

The Loganese don't even have a word for
I'm sorry.

However, we do have a word which means
war.

And what is that?

War.

Call me a cab, missy. I must get back to
the embassy and engage our troops.

It is my duty to my country.

You're saying we're at war?

That's correct.

All right.

Mac, call Holdings. We just got our
first prisoner of war.

Ah.

You're right.

The State Department would like to thank
you, Judge Stone. The war machine is in

motion. We are now at DEFCON 4.

Believe me, Mr. Dunford, I did not
intend to strain relations with Rogosh.

I just wanted to teach the ambassador a
little respect.

Judge Stone, leave the protocol to the
pros.

Well, you're not doing a very good job
of it. This city is crawling with

arrogant dignitaries who think the rules
don't apply to them.

You got stood up, didn't you?

You probably got mixed up about the day
or time.

What's all the fuss about? Rogash is a
tiny little country with an obnoxious

delegate. If being obnoxious was the
criteria, we'd have to close down the

French embassy.

The U.S. needs Rogash as an ally.

Their country is a strategically placed
listening post to spy on the Swiss.

Why would anybody want to spy on the
Swiss?

You don't want to know.

But believe me, we at State take this
declaration of war as serious business.

Oh, you don't think they really mean it
to you?

Maybe both sides should just sit down
and talk it out over some orange

cappuccino. I'm afraid we're already
beyond the yuppie beverage stage, Missy.

What if Judge Stone released the
ambassador?

Then we might be able to sweep it all
under the rug without incident.

Uh-huh.

Uh-huh.

Yes, right.

DEFCON 3.

What the hell is DEFCON 3?

I'm not sure, but I know it's worse than
4.

Congratulations, Judge Stone. You have
upset an entire foreign nation. A

foreign nation with a nuclear warhead.

Hold on.

Rogash is a country of what, maybe 13
people?

Where did they get a nuclear warhead?

Well, it was kind of a gift.

Hey, you think people just let you come
into their country and listen for

nothing? So you gave them a nuclear
warhead?

You should see the lovely fruit baskets
they sent us.

Yes, Mr.

Prosecutor.

Sylvester did eat poor Tweety Bird.

And Dutch here scarfed down Sylvester.

But I believe it was justifiable
homicide.

Dutch was Tweedie's legal guardian.

And he was just doing his job.

Case dismissed.

You lose again, Fielding.

Nine in a row.

Shutout City.

We'll have a five-minute recess.

And remember, on to papers, please.

Here. This one tried to make a run for
it.

Would have made a clean break if he
hadn't left some evidence on the fourth

floor.

Hi, Dad.

Okay, so now you know.

Pretty pathetic, isn't it?

Go ahead.

Take your best shot. Do I look a little
dog-tired?

Have I made any good flea bargains
lately?

Dan, relax.

I'm not here to give you grief.

I am so humiliated, Ross.

Oh, Dan.

Touch yourself some slack.

You've been through a lot.

Two weeks ago, you were the one with the
mange. Now it's your clients who have

it.

Yeah, I guess.

The point is, you're back.

You're working again.

You could have been fired altogether,
but you're getting a chance to start

over.

Maybe you're right.

This is a good place to get my feet wet.

Up to your ankles.

I gotta go.

Thanks, Ross.

Listen, Ross, would you just do me one
favor?

Not a word.

Yeah, okay, great, thanks.

Strico is on his way up, sir.

So what you gonna do?

I'm working on something.

Harry, I don't think you can hold the
ambassador any longer without

compromising your ethic.

Well, I think the more ethical choice
may be to keep this sorry waste of chest

hair locked up.

Ms. Mannix, I get the impression that if
you had your way, there'd be no men at

all in the new world.

Except for the auto mechanics and the
sperm donors.

Harry, Christine's right. You really
can't hold Strico legally.

I know, you're both right.

So I'm gonna let him go.

Call it.

People versus Strico.

What happened to your arm?

Burn it when I accidentally lit my
paycheck on fire.

That's what I get for endorsing it on
the hot plate.

I demand to know why you are still
holding me.

I'm not anymore.

I'm setting you free.

Well, it's about time.

One more minute and I would have
released the missiles.

You gave the missiles too?

It was Christmas.

You are free to go, Mr. Ambassador.

Straight to the nearest airport.

What are you talking about?

Well, since our two countries are now at
war, I am within my power to initiate

deportation proceedings.

Bon voyage, amigo.

You cannot deport me.

There's nothing to do in Rogash but
listen to the Swiss.

Tough break.

Judge, I cannot leave New York now. I'm
an escort on a townhouse.

Sorry, but Rogash has no shopping, no
good Chinese takeout, no...

No Playboy Channel.

Gee, that is too bad. You know, I
suppose I could stop the deportation

under certain circumstances.

Yes, anything, anything. What?

Well, personally, I'm still waiting to
hear two little words.

Kiss me?

I surrender.

Oh, okay, I surrender.

It's not quite that simple, Mr.
Ambassador.

There are terms to the surrender.

Terms? Yes.

From this point on, you will respect the
laws of this country and its people.

If you do not, you will waive your
immunity. I have taken the liberty of

drawing up a document.

And if I don't sign?

Then you're going to be listening to an
awful lot of yodeling.

You're out of here. Mr.

Ambassador, one more thing.

We Americans do not like being taken for
granted.

We've worked hard to get where we are.
We're tough and we're proud.

And we don't like to be stood up.

Bless you.

Thank you.

All of a sudden I'm itching and
sneezing. I only do that when I'm around

dogs.

No, in the cafeteria. Maybe you ought to
check that sandwich.

Well, I think I've finally broken your
streak of bad luck.

Oh? Also, I managed to find four people
to send out those chain letters.

And three of them did it of their own
free will.

Good for you, Bull.

Your Honor.

Oh, Dan?

This is Claudia Mannix. She's been
pinch-hitting for you for a couple of

weeks. And making so many friends.

Pleased to meet you.

Spare me.

As of this afternoon, your old position
is available.

You won't be prosecuting anymore?

No, I'm still putting the scum away.
They're just better dressed.

I've been bumped up to the Court of
Appeals.

You've been promoted?

After only two weeks?

I'm sure you're due. How many weeks have
you been here?

Seven years.

Eight years.

Nine.

Ditto.

I'm feeling pretty good. I've only been
here six years.

weeks. That's 14 days.

What can I say? They like my
personality.

So long, lifers.

Oh, come on, guys.

We're still here because our work is
important and it's rewarding.

And we get to sleep in every day.

Mr. Bullshannon?

Uh, that's me.

Need your signature.

You have just won a million dollar
sweepstakes.

A million dollars?

Think of the horrible taxes.

Damn your bad luck. Will it never end?