All language subtitles for BostonLegal.3.05.WhoseGodIsItAnyway.EN

Previously on Boston Legal…

I slept with Alan Shore.
How objective can he…

You also slept with me.

Do you ever think that
might be part of the problem?

You're a very good lawyer.

But not good enough.
We're letting you go.

Judge Marcia Hooper
was found murdered last night.

We were having an affair.

You're the man giving representation
to the person who murdered my wife.

He's a nasty little man.

He made her get that restraining
order against me.

He made her do it.

Scott Little's father is
on the prosecution's witness list.

This is a pathetic attempt to be
relevant in your son's life.

How could you give
testimony against him?

I'm not.
At least not on the murder.

Gracie Jane reporting to you live
from Boston with goosebumps.

Tomorrow it happens.

That low-life, adultering,
judge-murdering defendant Scott Little,

who of course gets
the presumption of innocence,

goes on trial, and yours truly
is here to cover it.

And I will be right here,
lapping it up like a saint Bernard.

Am I panting too loudly?

Denny, there's a…

Why are you in your bathrobe?

I just had a massage.

Uh, why are you holding
your briefcase?

My checkbook's in it.
I needed to pay the masseuse.

–Who is that under there?
–What? Where?

Whoever's under there,
come out.

–Go away!
–I'm not going away.

Come out now.

I was doing nothing untoward.

I was just hiding because I didn't
want to be seen in a room with him

while he's dressed in a bathrobe.

So better to be seen
under the bathrobe.

Who are you, Columbo?

–Gracie Jane.
–What about her?

She's contaminating the jury pool.

Anything you can do to shut her up?

Delighted to see you again.

Don't you be sarcastic
with me, you snoot.

My reputation's ruined.

You know, uh…
this is the big third date.

The kiss date.

In modern times, some might say
the consummate date.

Yeah, uh, Zach,

there's something
you need to know about me.

What's there to know,
you beautiful, funny lawyer?

I'm a lawyer at Crane, Poole & Schmidt.

Why do I know that name?

You know it because we
represent Scott Little.

–You represent Scott?
–I do.

Along with Jeffrey Coho,
who you've met.

So all this time…

How dare you?

Don't lecture me.

The only reason Scott Little
is going on trial

is because his own doctor
sold him out to the police.

You've also revealed a few choice
little nuggets to me that…

I've told you nothing.

Zach, you're a chatty little guy.

I will make a deal with you right now.

Tell me the rest of the story,
let me look at Scott's medical records,

maybe give me a glance
at judge Hooper's as well,

and I promise Jeffrey won't shred
you on the stand like a piece of linguini.

Let me tell you something
about me, lady.

Yeah, you've kissed Gina Gershon.

I will not be blackmailed.

Even if I were inclined to let
you see those medical records,

which I most certainly am not,
I am bound by doctor-patient privilege.

–Oh, now you're bound?
–Yes!

It was my duty to reveal the other
because a human life was in danger,

you treacherous vixen!

You've made a big mistake
making an enemy of me.

Hey, I am not paying for this.

I will bury you.

Boston Legal
3x05. Whose God Is It Anyway?
QA: ΤΖΩΤΖΙΟΥ

ORIGINAL AIR DATE ON ABC: 2006/10/17

Jerry, you have got to calm down.

I can't help you
while you're in this state.

Jerry…

Goodness, I've never heard
that sound before.

I've been sued.

Oh, I thought I could handle it.

We were in the process of effecting
a mutually acceptable settlement,

when suddenly he got himself
a new, aggressive, awful,

androgynous woman lawyer!

Now he wants a million dollars.

Jerry, what have you been sued for?

One of my attorneys…

as you know, I've been building
my own quiet, little firm.

One of my attorneys,

I terminated him,
which I'm entitled to do.

It's at-will employment,
my will being dispositive.

And then he filed a claim
like a snively, horrible man.

What did you fire him for?

He turned out to be
a scientologist, full-blown!

Jerry, we do have a little thing
called freedom of religion.

Oh, I know that, but why should
I have to work with one?

I don't like this scientology business.

Yuck, yuck, yuck!

–Brad.
–Sally?

–You look incredible.
–I know.

–Sally.
–It's her, Androgy-woman.

How you doing, old man?

This is opposing counsel?

You ready?

Yep.

Look at me.

I can probably get us out of this
right now with murder two,

8 to 12 years.

No.

Murder one means life.

Are we going to lose?

We may.

I didn't kill her, Mr Coho.

And I'm not accepting any plea
that says I did.

Okay, let's go.

Oh, my God.

Stay tight. No comment.

Okay.

Mr Coho, one quick question.

Rikki Klieman. Scott, is your father going
to testify for or against you?

Jeffrey, Joan Rivers.
Who are you wearing?

What are you planning to say?

Get out of my way, Barbara.

–This is your own son.
–You would never let him be my son.

–You are gonna give testimony against
your own son—
–if I had raised him,

he wouldn't be here now!
–Just to get back at me!
–Barbara!

–I will not let you get away with this.
–Barbara.

I really, really apologize.

You apologize?

I didn't tell her anything
that would compromise your case,

I don't think.

You compromised yourself,
which will compromise our case.

I really, really apologize.

Look, I promise I will be
the best witness you've ever had.

The driveway was a crushed gravel.

We were able to lift
various tire tracks,

all of which belonged
to the defendant's car,

the victim's and the victim's husband.
Nobody else.

And, uh, what evidence
did you find in the house?

The only prints inside the house
were Mr Hooper's,

none of the defendant,
which is odd, since he was there.

No prints of the victim even.

What did that tell you?

Someone was meticulous
in wiping away the evidence.

Even the body had been wiped
with what appeared to be a towelette.

Any evidence at all on the body?

Microscopic traces of his semen
and oil secretions.

The defendant's?

And nobody else.

How did you first learn that my client
was in the house that night?

He told us.

He came to you on his own
to volunteer the information.

–Yes. –And other than Scott Little
being in the house that night,

you have no evidence,
physical or otherwise,

connecting him to the crime, do you?

We have a video of him
confessing to his therapist

that he had dreams of killing her.
–Yes, of course, the video.

Once you saw that, Scott Little
was your man, wasn't he?

He was the main suspect.

The main suspect?
Who were the other suspects?

He was the only viable one.

Who were the others who
turned out to be non-viable?

He was the only one
we considered seriously.

He was the only one you
considered at all, wasn't he?

Because once you saw that video,

it was case closed.

Because if a person dreams or
harbors fantasies of killing somebody,

well, that's foolproof evidence.
Case closed.

–Objection!
–Sustained.

We have more than the suspect's
dreams of killing her.

He was in the house
the night of the murder.

–But he left before the murder.
–We don't know that.

The coroner stated that
after Mrs Hooper was hit on the head,

she likely died within minutes.

The time of death was
between 10:15 and 10:30,

but Scott Little was at home
in his house by 9:30.

According to his mother.

Can you refute the mother?

Can you prove that he was
in the house after 9?

–No, but I don't need…
–Thank you, detective.

Now Mrs Hooper was having
other affairs, wasn't she?

She wasn't committing adultery
only with Scott Little.

–She was seeing two other men.
–That you knew of.

Both of whom had verified alibis.

Can you prove that these were
the only two other men

that Mrs Hooper was seeing?

Can I prove it?

No.

Thank you, detective.
Nothing further.

Mr Winant?

I think we'll break here and resume
again tomorrow with your next witness.

Mr Winant, who do you call?

The prosecution calls judge Brian Hooper.

–$1 million?
–The job paid three and a quarter.

When prospective employers
ask him why he was fired, he's…

We're not gonna give
you a million dollars, Sally.

Then I guess we go to court.

Since the day you left,
I've longed to go head-to-head.

You can't win this, Alan.
Freedom of religion,

it's one of the biggies.

I suppose we could wager.

Loser has to slather the winner
in maple syrup and then lick it off.

Winner gets to slather
the loser with maple syrup

and then lick it off.

I'll see you in court.

Brad.

Sally.
It's really nice to see you again.

Would you like to grab
some dinner sometime, catch up?

I was never behind.

I'm not the same girl
you went out with, Brad.

I'd love to get to know
the new girl.

I think he's making his move.

I used to date that woman.
That gives me the first right to redate her.

I see.

Well, since we're playing by high
school rules, I dated her after you did.

No, you had a prurient affair with her
when she was on the rebound from me,

and that doesn't count.

What do you want to do,
wrestle me for her?

Hands off my ex-girl.

Hands, how's it going?

Fine.

I prefer to be called “Jerry.”

Of course you do.

And may I ask you a question?

Well, this may be the mad cow speaking,

but didn't we fire you?

I left under unfortunate circumstances.
Just…

Not to worry.

Actually, it caused me
a lot of worry, Mr Crane.

But now I've managed
to reestablish myself.

I've started my own firm.
–Oh, there you go.

But now I've totally blown it.
I've lost it all, so not to worry.

Jerry, you're not
gonna lose your firm.

Of course I am, Alan.

I fired a man because of his religion.

I went to three lawyers before you,

because I so didn't want
to bother you again,

and they all told me I can't win.

You're not gonna lose your firm.

He never had a problem with my work.

Just the opposite.
He told me I could make partner.

Then suddenly, he fired me.

Did he give you a reason?

He said my being a scientologist
wasn't commensurate with the image

he wanted his law firm to project.

He called my religion “yuck.”

Your exact words.

Mr Karnes, he claims you were
outspoken about your religion.

That's not true.

I talked about it.
I did not get on any soapbox.

Talked about it in the office?

Yes, but I wasn't trying
to convert anyone.

I certainly wasn't a zealot.

He just had a problem
with my particular faith,

and he said so.

Thank you.

–Scientology was invented by…
–L. Ron Hubbard.

Who started out as
a science fiction writer.

He said, and I quote,

“writing for a penny a word
is ridiculous.”

“If a man really wanted
to make a million dollars,”

“he'd start his own religion.”

You know, people like you take
that quote way out of context.

People like me?

Does that mean non-believers?
Or lawyers?

Foot fetishists?
–Objection.

Mr Karnes, what's an engram?

An engram is basically
a psychic scar.

It's the, uh, origin of illness.

And as I…

life, according to scientology,

is all about ridding yourself
of these, uh, engrams.

You do this by pursuing
a path of enlightenment known…

uh, help me out.
–The bridge to total freedom.

And at each stage of the bridge,

you are audited by
a senior church member,

who hooks you up
to some electronic device.

An electro-psychometer.

–Is it painful?
–No.

And after you go through all the stages,

uh, you become an operating thetan?
theetan? thetan?

That's right.

And OT's, as they're called,

are said to be able to
communicate with animals,

move inanimate objects,

leave their bodies at will.

You hope to do that?

One day.

–Are thetans immortal?
–It's been said.

Well, in fact, most scientologists
believe brother Hubbard will return.

And Christians believe
Jesus will come again.

Are they all nuts?
–Most.

Scientologists also believe

that 75 million years ago
an evil galactic warlord,

and here's where I can
almost taste the maple syrup,

an evil warlord by the name of Xenu

dumped 13 trillion aliens from different
planets into the Earth's volcanoes

and then vaporized them with h-bombs.

You're familiar with this?
–Yes.

And the radioactive souls of
these poor, vaporized alien creatures

continue to enter into our bodies,

implanting engrams and false ideas
about Christ and God and psychiatry,

and that's why we have to purge
ourselves of all of these engrams.

Yes.

And when one releases an engram,

the erasure is often accompanied
by yawns or tears, sweat, odor,

panting, urine, vomiting and
other excreta. You've heard this?

Yes.

So basically every time you
piss, puke or crap,

you're a step closer to immortality.
–Objection.

Getting closer as I speak.

Objection.

Judge Brian Hooper,

the husband of the victim,
is on the stand as we speak.

You'll remember
he discovered the body.

We play his frantic 911 call for you
on an average of 36 times a night.

It never gets old.
Hey!

I'm standing here.

Well, drop dead, crime slut.

Take five. Ladies…

Denny Crane, as I live and drool.

Got your own TV show? Wow.

Yes, I do, and I don't need
the likes of you, I'll tell you that.

Come on, Gracie. You're on this
campaign to convict my client.

A little residual anger?

Don't flatter yourself, you big goat.

Come on, you and me.
Ten minutes of chubby sex.

Where had you been, sir,
prior to coming home that night?

I had been out to dinner.

I stopped by my chambers
to get some materials,

and I proceeded home,
arriving there around 11 o'clock.

Do you know the defendant Scott Little?

Yes, I do.
He was my wife's law clerk.

–You know him personally?
–Some.

He always struck me
as extremely unstable.

Object.

You've learned that
Mr Little and your wife had been
carrying on an adulterous affair.

–Yes.
–When did you learn this, sir?

The day of her death.

My therapist, who is also the defendant's
therapist, informed me.

What occasioned your therapist
to tell you this,

betraying Scott Little's
patient confidentiality?

He suddenly feared Mr Little
might harm Marcia.

He gave me a disc.

It showed the defendant
fantasizing about killing her.

He thought it was nothing more
than a fantasy,

but he couldn't be sure,

and he became concerned.

After you saw this disc,
what did you do?

I called Marcia,
told her of the threat.

We argued over the affair,

and we agreed to talk that night
when I got home.

But…

that talk obviously never took place.

When I got home…

Um, I'm sorry.

Your honor, perhaps a short break.

“A short break”?

He wants to give the jury
time to absorb the testimony.

I don't think we should cross him.

We have to cross him, Denise.

This whole thing could just
blow up in our faces…

He's a viable suspect.
We have to take the shot.

Now comes the difficult part.

You can plan on her cross-examining you
quite vigorously, Jerry.

I'm ready.

Last night I practiced
in a mock trial setting.

I'm ready.

You practiced?

Who questioned you?

Well, Patty.

Patty? The doll?

She didn't really question me.

I supplied the questions.

But she looks like
Androgy-woman a little.

It was very helpful.

Okay.

Alan, don't you think
the resemblance is uncanny?

Well, it hadn't occurred to me.

Joanna the sex therapist
told me that one day

I'd encounter a real, live Patty.

Perhaps it's Sally.

Oh, dear.

I liked him personally,

but his ramblings were becoming
more and more aberrant.

Could you give us
an example, please?

Well, he impugned me
for taking medication.

Then there was the business
about the aliens.

He'd request time off
to get his body audited by these

electro-psychometer machines.

They believe man evolved from a clam.

–A clam? –The problem was
he'd talk about it openly.

He was losing credibility as a lawyer,
causing my firm to lose credibility.

The law business is tough.

He was making a mockery of mine.

He ever commit any legal malpractice?

No, he's an excellent attorney,

but when he talked about
his religion…

It reflected poorly on the firm.

I believe in religious freedom.

What if one of your associates
was Hindu and worshipped a cow,

would that be all right?

Uh, I think so.

What about Christianity?

What if one of your associates believed
that Jesus actually walked on water,

or that Moses parted the Red sea,

or that Noah's ark actually held
60 million animals?

I don't take everything
in the Bible literally.

What if one of your lawyers did?

Your honor, if she's making fun
of Christianity, it's unpatriotic.

I'm concerned
it'll hurt the troops.

Mr Shore, sit down.

What if of your employees believed,

instead of the soul of an alien entering
our bodies, it was the devil?

Would you fire somebody from your firm
because they spoke openly about that?

I am sorry, your honor.
This woman is clearly a Jew.

You object to her being Jewish?

I'm sure somebody here must.

I don't mean to tell you
how to practice law,

but at least some of the people
in that jury box go to church or temple.

You can't be launching a broad
attack on religion like that.

It'll alienate us!

Jerry, I have to launch
a broad attack.

Why? This is my career on the line.

If we single out scientology,
that would make us bigots.

Are we bigots, Jerry?

The widower reportedly will be
cross-examined not by Jeffrey Coho

but Claire Simms, the little
princess who sits next to him.

Ask me, I don't know why
they're crossing him at all.

It was a—

Did you talk to her?

I gave her my best shot.

You had sex with her.

Cheap sex, the best kind.

What about Bethany?
Wouldn't she object?

A gentleman never tells.

A gentleman might want to look down.

No way.

Way.

I knew you were there.
I was just trying to make you jealous.

Denny, if she's going to be
the seventh one,

you might want to go after her.

Pumpkin?

I testify next after judge Hooper's
cross-examination.

I'm very nervous, of course,
being a chief prosecutorial witness.

What do you plan to say?

Mr Winant has asked me not to
make any anticipatory remarks.

He doesn't want me to defuse
my thunder, of course.

Suffice it to say,
I'm a very big cog.

Your honor, my name is Claire Simms,

and first let me convey
my sympathy for your loss.

Why don't you direct
that sentiment to the jury,

since it's for their benefit
that you express it?

Okay.

You said you regarded
my client as unstable.

Did your wife share this view?

I wouldn't know.

Well, would it be like her to
have affairs with unstable men?

Did your wife have affairs
with other men, your honor?

Not to my knowledge.

You never heard rumors that she did?

I lend no credence
to rumors, counsel.

You say you relayed Scott's fantasy
to your wife the afternoon of her death?

–Yes.
–And she understood you clearly?

What is that supposed to mean?

Well, she made love to him that night.

He probably raped her.

There was no sign
of forced intercourse.

Perhaps she didn't take
his fantasy seriously.

We'd have to ask her.

He's got keys to your house,
her chambers.

And you felt he was unstable,
emotionally troubled,

and now you learn of this fantasy.

I don't know, if it's someone
I love, I tell the police.

You tell the police, sir?
–No.

And that night
you just went out to dinner.

Now you said you got home
at 11 o'clock that night.

Your neighbor Lincoln Meyer said he saw you
drive into your garage between 10 and 11.

–He's wrong.
–Your dinner ended at 9.

–I had to go to my chambers.
–Anybody see you there?

I don't know.

Maybe a security guard
at the courthouse.

I checked.

I couldn't find anybody.

I've got to ask you
this question, judge.

Did you kill your wife?

How dare you?

Well, you learned
she's having an affair,

and you're told the kid she's having it
with fantasizes about killing her.

And what do you do?

You go out to dinner that night.

Nobody can account for your
whereabouts between 9 and 11.

Is it possible that you waited
for Scott Little to go to your house

and leave a little semen at the scene,
after which you went in and killed her?

–Objection!
–You're disgusting.

You and your wife were having
marital problems, were you not?

The reason she left
Dr Simon's practice,

he felt he couldn't
ethically treat both of you,

because it posed a conflict of interest.

It's not like
I'm attracted to her.

It's just that sometimes
I have to take one for the team.

I think you have serious mental problems.

Bethany, you and I aren't
even seeing each other yet.

And I'm not going to see somebody

that throws his penis around
like it's going out of style,

which it probably did 50 years ago.

I promise you,

once I enter into
an exclusive relationship,

I sleep with very few people.

You know what the problem is?

You're a dirty old man.

Bethany!

I like you.

Can we give this a try?

You would have to seriously
clean up your act.

We're talking about freedom of religion,

the most basic of individual liberties.

Scientology may seem
a little wacky to Mr Espenson.

So what?

We never hold religion up
to standards of reasonableness.

If we did,
what religion could pass?

Christian scientists
won't go to the doctor.

Jehovah's witnesses forbid
singing the national anthem

and buying girl scout cookies.

Radical Islamists blow themselves up
to meet virgins in heaven.

The Hindus have their cow.
People believe in all kinds of things.

It is their right to do so
under the First Amendment.

But the defendant doesn't want
to afford that liberty to Douglas Karnes

because he thinks that scientology
is just a little too out there, I guess.

Come on.

Freedom of religion means just that.

Oh, please.
It's a dumb freedom.

An employee's behavior reflects on
their employer, for God's sake.

In this case, we're talking
about a law firm,

a business in which clients look for
good judgment, sound and sane counsel.

This guy's running around saying
man evolved from a big clam

after galactic warlords
invaded our volcanoes.

He's a nut job,

and I don't know about you,
but I'm getting a little tired
of this freedom of religion thing.

When did religion get
such a good name anyway?

Be it the Crusades,
the reformation genocides,

the troubles in Northern Ireland,

the Middle east, mass slaughters
supposedly in the name of Allah,

and then, of course, the obligatory
reciprocal retributions.

Hundreds of millions of people
have died in religious conflicts.

Hitler did his business
in the name of his creator.

9/11 was an act of
religious extremism.

It's our greatest threat today,
a holy Jihad.

If we're not ready to strip religion
of its sacred cow status,

how about we at least
scale back a little

on the constitutional dogma
exalting it as all get-out?

Your honor, I would love to know what
this has to do with my client being fired.

Your client was fired because he
entered into an at-will employment contract,

he acted like a complete loon,

and he now tries to cloak himself
in a Constitutional Amendment

that is as overplayed
as it is misapplied.

Everybody should get
to believe in God,

pray to his God,
worship his God, of course.

But to impose him on others,
to victimize others in his name,

the founding fathers of this country
set out to prevent persecution,

not to license it.

And for Jerry Espenson,

struggling with his law practice
to make ends meet,

don't tell me he's not victimized

when one of his lawyers bounces around
telling clients and other attorneys

that according to his most recent
electro-psychometer reading,

he's getting closer to immortality,

at which point he'll be able
to leave his body and talk to zebras.

At a certain point, we have to say,

“enough with this freedom of
religion crap. Yuck, yuck!”

Yuck.

Yes, I know.
I'll get letters.

Not going to steal my thunder.

She was a lovely woman.
That's all I'll say.

I hope I can be a cog
in convicting her killer.

Not going to steal my thunder.

–He had his very own clicker.
–“Clicker”?

A remote so he could covertly
pull into her garage.

I'd see him pull in,
and I'd watch him pull out.

–“Him” being?
–The boy.

The boy was her favorite.

And by “boy,” you mean
the defendant Scott Little?

Many times I'd look through the window
and see them doing it like apes.

You'd see the defendant
and Mrs Hooper make love?

It was often angry.

–Angry?
–Oh, yes.

Sometimes it looked like
he was trying to hurt her.

And she seemed to take pleasure
in the physicality of his wrath.

In fact, I think she rather
got off on feeling punished.

He seemed to enjoy hurting her,

so it made for some
very passionate, ape-like sex.

This isn't good.

Now you didn't actually see them
make love the night of the murder?

No.

But I definitely saw him
arrive at 8-ish.

–Did you see anybody else?
–No.

I'd seen others on various occasions.

Some had their own clickers.

But on the night of the murder,

only him and the husband,
who arrived about 11, I think.

Thank you, sir.

We'd better get this guy.

You and I have had several conversations,
haven't we, Lincoln?

We have.
I don't like you.

You never told me
the lovemaking was angry.

Didn't I? Sorry.

I have to wonder if you were
saving this for trial.

You're very excited about being
a big cog, aren't you, Lincoln?

I'd say anxious,

anxious to see her brutal
murderer brought to justice.

You told Denise Bauer you saw the
husband get home between 10 and 10:30.

I said no such thing.

She's obviously twisted my words.

–She twisted your words?
–Yes.

That's what all lawyers do.

Were you obsessed with Marcia Hooper?

I was enamored.
She was lovely.

–Were you in love with her?
–I adored her.

Why'd she get a restraining
order against you?

Her husband.

In her affidavit,
she called you “sick.”

He made her write those things.

I'll bet it was kind of hard to
watch her make love to all those men.

–Peepies love watching.
–You brought her flowers a lot.

She adored my flowers.

Yet she called you “sick, unbalanced.”

His words.

When's the last time you
brought her flowers, Lincoln?

I don't really recall.

You grew these flowers?

In my garden.
They're lovely.

Your flowers again, Lincoln?

Sure look like yours.

You were in the house, Lincoln.

You go in after Scott left?
–Don't be ridiculous.

These are your flowers.

I gave them to her outside
that afternoon.

Oh, now you suddenly remember.

You kill her, Lincoln?
–Mr Coho…

–Clearly she made you angry.
–She did not make me angry.

–She called you “sick.”
–No.

–“Unbalanced.”
–His words!

–No, Marcia's.
–She was drawn to me.

Drawn to you?

An effeminate loser who plays
in his garden all day?

You're a peeping Tom, for God's sakes!

You should be a registered sex offender!

You're a weird little pervert!

You watch your mouth,
you dirty mouth!

You watch your mouth!

–Or what, you'll kill me?
–Objection!

Somebody ought to wash
your dirty mouth out with soap.

Does he always pace like that?

If they come back with a number
above the policy, he's out of business.

Which is why you should have settled.

And waste all that syrup?

Madame foreperson,
the jury has reached a verdict?

–We have, your honor.
–What say you?

We the jury, in the matter
of Karnes vs Espenson,

find in favor of the defendant.

Oh, thank God!
Oh, my God.

Thank you! Thank you all!

Thank you!

The court thanks
the jury for its service.

You are dismissed.

And thank you.

Someday I'm going to pay you back for
your continued kindness, you kind, kind man.

I'm gonna go now.
Would that be all right?

It would.

Congratulations.

I will beat you one day.

I'd much rather be flogged.

If memory serves me,
according to our wager…

You lick.

Would you describe your relationship
with your son as estranged?

I would describe it
as almost non-existent.

My wife saw to that.

You and your wife were divorced
when Scott was 3.

Yes, and I was granted
very little access.

She controlled him.
She dominated him, isolated him.

Mr Schiller, you told police you visited
your ex-wife two months ago.

It wasn't a visit
so much as an encounter.

She brought a civil action
to garnish my wages.

I went to confront her,
and as I approached the house,

I heard them arguing.

Who?

Scott and his mother.

Could you hear what was being said?

Yes, she was, uh, screaming at him,

saying that adultery
was a sin and so forth.

She was accusing him of loving
whoever the woman was,

and he was denying it.

So according to his mother,
Scott was in love with this woman.

Objection.
Calls for hearsay.

–Excited utterance.
–I'll allow it.

–Your honor…
–I'll allow it.

Mr Schiller, prior to the day
you heard them arguing,

when was the last time
you saw your son?

Two years ago.

It was a futile attempt
on my part to reconnect.

We went on a trip together to New York.

It didn't go well?

No, we had to end it abruptly.

Could you tell us what happened?

Um…

I, uh…

I was out,

and when I returned
to the hotel room,

I inadvertently walked in on him.

What was he doing?

He was gratifying himself.

–He was masturbating?
–Yes.

He jumped up.

We pretended I didn't see what I saw,

and he went to the bathroom.
And I noticed on the bed…

a picture and a woman's sweater.

A picture of?

A naked woman.

Did you recognize the woman
in the photo?

Yes.

It was his mother.

And it was one of her sweaters.

And that's when I knew for sure
what I'd suspected for a long time.

Which was?

Scott was sexually attracted
to his mother.

And he was deeply in love with her.

–Objection.
–Overruled.

Scott Little was in love
with his own mother?

Yes.

And when I saw the picture of the victim,

how much she looked like Barbara,

I realized that Scott was
probably carrying on

some sick, twisted version
of the love affair

he'd always wanted to have
with his mother, for which I blame her!

Objection.
Speculation. Foundation?

Sustained. The jury will disregard
that last statement.

–My son is very ill.
–Objection!

Sustained. Mr Schiller, you will not offer
psychological testimony.

I have nothing further.

Your honor, I need more time.

We'll adjourn and resume
at 9 o'clock tomorrow morning.

You can't let the jury sleep on that.

Denise, I need more time.

I'm not in love with you.

Not, uh, not like that.

How did you get a naked
picture of me, Scott?

You were sunbathing once by the pool.

You didn't know I was home…

and I photographed you.
–Why?

You just, um…

the sun, the way the light, uh…

I just thought it would make
for a good picture.

Scott…

is this what you were afraid
we would discover

if we opened Dr Simon's files,
that you, um,

have feelings for your mother?

Okay, ick and double ick.

I think we should move for
a mistrial on unfair surprise.

We won't get it, but we should
at least preserve it on appeal.

–What happens now?
–What happens now?

You fill out your
change-of-address forms!

–I didn't kill her!
–Oh, gee, there's some rage.

You shut up!

You can do this,
you can do this.

Mr Espenson?

I realize this is extremely,
extremely forward of me,

and I apologize deeply
for any intrusion,

but you remind me
so very much of…

–Alan?
–Jerry.

I'm terribly sorry.
Good-bye.

Jerry, wait.

Jerry…

Je…

I feel so badly for him.

The courage it took for him
to actually go to her door.

Awful.

He still has the doll
as backup, right?

Please, let's keep in mind
he gets a presumption of innocence,

'cause nothing says “not guilty”
like a pervert mama's boy

who dreams about
committing murder.

My God.

I thought you wielded
some influence with this woman.

Well, she's, she's always
had that problem.

She surrenders,

and then she's ready to
go back to war again

the minute I withdraw my soldier.

Maybe you should take her to dinner.

No can do.

I'm involved.

Sorry?

I asked Bethany out.
We're a couple.

The little person?

Yeah, she's so brazen and ballsy,

and she takes no prisoners.

She reminds me of somebody
I used to know years and years ago.

–Who?
–Me.

Oh, I like her, Alan.

Something special's happening here.

I feel giddy.

The only thing more exciting than meeting
a new woman is running into an old one.

Sally Heep.

What is it about young girls?

We look at ourselves through their eyes
and feel relevant instead of…

Old and fat.

I must admit, Denny,

I don't like it that there's
a huge trial going on in this firm,

and you and I
aren't front and center.

It makes it difficult to
remember that in life,

it's all about me.

–We haven't lost it, have we?
–Don't be silly.

Oh, we may be less relevant,
but we're rich and famous.

We still got it, Alan.

Of course we do.

What is it we still got?

Young girls.