All language subtitles for Boston Legal [4x15]

Previously on Boston Legal…

–What's going on?
–I'm afraid of clowns.

–What's going on?
–He's afraid of clowns!

–I am not!
–Shirley's the one for me, Alan.

I don't think it's working out.

–What isn't working out?
–Us.

Whatever you need, Shirley…
a shoulder… a hug… an erection…

–Melvin Palmer, how are you?
–You're not going to be cheerful
about this, are you?

You know, I have been told to keep
my exuberance down until people
have had their morning coffee.

And you, Mr Shore, you're a hoot,
that's what.

–You know what you are?
–A hoot.

With a capital H,
that's what you are.

–I say we just leave.
–You can't just—

–He's doing this on purpose,
not arriving on time.
–Don't let him get to you.

Your Honor, given that
the defendant's lawyer

has failed to so much as appear,
I ask the court to summarily direct
a verdict for the plaintiff,

and order World Wide Pictures
to pay damages in the am—

Sorry I'm late, judge. Big dick traffic.
I need a hovercraft, that's what I need.

Hey, Al.
How we doin', sunshine?

Mr Palmer, the court has repeatedly

directed you not to refer
to the stenographer as “sunshine.”

Well, maybe she should stop
brightening everybody's day

with that smile of hers,
that's what she should do.

Mr Palmer, for the last time,
I will ask you,

please stop wasting the court's time.

Perhaps you should tell him
he's a hoot.

No, that's what you are,
with a capital “H.”

Judge, as for your time,
it was my hope

to settle this little dispute,
but my good friend Al…

–I am not—
–…over here refused to even meet with me,

that's what he did, hence—

Yes, because I've suffered
the stench and revulsion

of meeting with you before,
and for the record,

the idea of your friendship
makes me want to throw up.

Looks like somebody's got a bug up.
Am I right, Jerry?

Gimme a pop, my man.

Tell you what, judge,

My goal was to give
Mr Beckham here some money—

Heaps of it,
truth be told—

but Mr Bug-Up-His-Snoot
refused all offers and—

My client's daughter
was murdered as a direct result

of your client's conduct.

Money is not about to make him whole,
nor will it have any—

But money is what lawsuits
are about, Al.

Am I right, Jerry?
Two pops for a yes.

This case could have settled, judge,

should have settled,
would have settled,

But Mr Tongue-Flapper here
likes to get on his soapbox.

That's what he does.

Your time is
being wasted here, I agree,

but not by yours truly.

My client has the right
to sue the party who wronged him.

That's why we're here.

And as for what lawsuits
are about, Mr Palmer—

Flap, flap, flap—

Only man I know who can fire up
and shoot a breeze at the same time,

you big hoot, you.

Put a button on it for me, Jerry.
Bring it home.

Boston Legal 4×15
Tabloid Nation

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So are you two getting serious?

No, serious? Look,
we just started dating, Shirley.

You're having sex?

I-I don't think that's really
a discussion we need to have, do you?

Uh, I'll have it.

Oh, my god.

–My god.
–Oh!

–You look exactly the same.
–Oh.

–It's so good to see you.
–Another old boyfriend?

The oldest. I can't believe it.
What has it been, 30, 40 years?

Oh, I don't know.
Something like that.

I-I actually came 'cause
I could use your help, Shirl.

I've gotten myself
into a little bit of trouble.

–Tell me.
–Uh, well…

Things haven't been going exactly…

well for me lately.

And by “lately,”
i should say since the war,

the one in vietnam.

I heard you hit a rough patch.

Yeah, well…

Had my good times, bad times,
like most folks, but…

at least i managed
to stay out of jail, by god…

until, uh, maybe now.

What happened?

Well, I— The police arrested me for…

Seems I ate a seal.

Y-You ate a seal?

Well, I'm a fisherman.
You know me. It's in my blood.

Problem is I'm a—
I'm a lousy fisherman.

And, well…

See, what happens is I go two,
three hours without a nibble,

And then I pick up my double-Aught
and i just… boom!

And shoot myself a seal!

I mean, they're good eating.
They—they really are.

And plus…

Cupboard's a little bare,
truth be told.

You're under the impression
they want actual jail time here?

I shot more than one.

They're very good eating.

He served in Vietnam,
foregoing college when he got home.

I—I'd heard that he fell on
hard times, but I—

I hadn't really kept in touch.

How many seals are we talking about?

I don't know. I—I'm not sure
he's altogether sound.

He—he thinks Ashcroft trojan-horsed
the public defender's office.

Denny.
–Shirley.

Carl.

Denny, I'm—I'm feeling a draft.

Do you not feel it?

Let me tell you something,
if we had a draft,

we'd put a real surge
on those terrorists in Baghdad,

and we wouldn't have to fight
this war with mercenaries,

at a fraction of the cost.
You can quote me on that.

How's it going?
–Hmm.

What? Oh, I'll bet you think

I don't know that I'm
walking around in my boxers.

For your information, I know
full well I'm not wearing pants.

And here I was,
underestimating you.

I spilled something on them.

Choice was to go around looking
incontinent or eccentric.

Which would you choose?

You might choose
not to walk around at all.

Just a thought.
–Sit, on my own, in my room?

Life's a cabaret, man.

He is getting worse.
You do realize that.

I'll talk to him.

And I want to spend
the rest of my life with you.

Jody…

Will you marry me?
–Aww.

Uh, Steve, uh, I don't
know what to say. I-I…

We broke up.

It's the reason
why I'm on this program.

I'm trying to move on
with my life.

I know, and I want to start over…

You and me.

I can't marry you, Steve.

Oh, jeez.

It's time for me to move on.

I've told you this.
I…

It's okay, it's okay.

Mr Beckham, that was
your daughter on the talk show?

Yes. She had been somehow convinced
by the show's producers

to go on and discuss
her relationship problems

in front of a national
television audience.

And Steve was her boyfriend?

Ex-boyfriend,
and as you can tell,

she was totally unprepared
for a marriage proposal.

And what happened after
the taping of this program?

After the airing of the program,

Steve went to my daughter's apartment,

and he murdered her.

He stabbed her 16 times.

Sir, to your knowledge,

did Steve have
any history of violence?

Yes, he had been physically
abusive to Jody many times.

That was the primary
cause of their breakup.

On two occasions,
Jody called the police,

because he got physical with her,

which she told the television producers.

First of all,
it should be said,

my heart goes completely out to you.

It also probably should be said,

there's no mileage on that heart,
so in effect, you'd be getting a new one.

–Mr Shore.
–He's a quipster, that's what he is.

Sir, your daughter knew
this young man better than Dr Ray

or any of the television producers
over at World Wide Pictures.

Am I right about that?
–Probably.

And after this television program
was taped and aired,

did she have reason to believe

this young man might endanger her life?

I don't know.

Well… she never called the police
to say she was in fear.

Did she call you?

She said that she was worried
about how he might react.

She told me that.
–Did you do anything?

I mean, if a father thought
his daughter was in danger,

I assume he'd take steps,
that's what I assume.

What did you do?

The fact is,

no reasonable person
would've seen this coming.

Right, Mr Beckham?

Not your daughter…
not you…

nobody.

So…

I spoke to the US attorney handling the matter—
–And?

…and you've been arrested nine times.

Each time, you promise
not to do it again,

And then boom,
there goes another seal.

I'm trying to quit.

Ethan, I—

I'm going to say this
as your lawyer and your friend—

I don't think
you're entirely stable.

Is anybody?

Have you thought of seeing
a doctor to get any help?

Well, I have no insurance.

Well, how can that be?
You're a veteran.

Right, there's over two million of us
without insurance, Shirl.

I mean— George—
our fearless leader,

he cut enrollment for, uh,
veterans earning more than $28,000.

For some families…

When was…

the last time you saw a doctor?

Three years ago.

I was diagnosed as bipolar,

likely suffer
from post-traumatic stress.

I was put on lithium,
which helped.

Uh, but since…
my insurance lapsed, I haven't…

taken anything for, you know,
a few years, but I'm…

still charming.

I'd like to go with
a diminished capacity defense.

No! I'm not crazy.

I may have my issues,
but I am not insane.

I needed to eat.

You know what would be crazy?

What would be crazy is
if I just let myself starve to death.

It's not that
I can't handle defeat,

but if I lose to Melvin Palmer—
–Have you ever lost to him?

No.

But no matter
how hard I smack him down,

He just keeps
getting back up again.

He reminds me of this inflatable
bobo doll I had as a kid.

I'd knock it down,
and it would come back up, smiling.

I hated that bobo doll,

The way it just kept
popping back up, mocking me.

One day I finally…

stabbed it.

You stabbed your bobo doll?

I murdered several of my toys.

Is that bad?

Well…

I sank some boats in a lake,

buried a truck.

I abandoned Mr Machine in a park.

Did you have any stuffed animals?

I only had one,

a teddy bear,
when I was very young.

Did you kill him?

No, of course not.

We did part on bad terms.

He would always judge me
in such a…

I donated him to one of those…

used toy banks.

What?

What are you doing?

Boxing. Interactive video.

Um, Denny, the—
the game's not on.

I'm in training.
I can never beat the black guy.

I gotta be ready.

–Oy.
–What?

That just sounded a little racist,
that's all.

Oh, please. I'm not racist.
It's the game.

At the easy levels,
they give you a scrawny white guy.

At the more difficult levels,
big black killer thug.

Or a muslim terrorist.

Denny, do you want
to grab dinner sometime?

Why?

Well, nothing. I just thought
we'd catch up a little.

–What's the catch?
–There's no catch. It's—

well, actually, it's my
new year's resolution:

try to reconnect with people
I care about,

and since I care about you—
Just yea or nay?

Yea.

Great, and, um,
if you think of it, wear pants.

She loves me. I knew it.

There was no indication anywhere
that this young man could be homicidal.

Well, let's be fair now.
He had been violent.

But he never endangered
anybody's life.

Plus, Ms Beckham had been warned
that these tapings were often volatile,

that they evoked strong
emotional responses from guests.

She signed a waiver.

Did she know that you planned
to bring her ex-boyfriend on?

–She was told that we may.
–Oh.

But this was a staple
of our program.

We were always bringing the exes on,

the abusive fathers.

This is what “Dr Ray”
is all about—

cathartic confrontation.

Now when you told her
that you were gonna…

bring on her ex-boyfriend,
did— did she object?

No. Absolutely not.

So she assumed the risk
of being murdered?

That's a cheap shot.

Oh, come on, Mr Hamilton,
the staple of your program,

as you readily admit,
is to inflame,

to stir up cathartic confrontation.

Here you had a volatile ex-boyfriend

who had a history of abuse
and physical violence—

She's the person that knew him best,
and she never once—

And you were more than tickled
to exploit her bad judgment.

By the way, how many times
have you rerun

that particular episode
where he proposed marriage,

the one that led to her murder?

–I don't know.
–My count is three,

including once after he killed her.

Whenever something bad happens,

we all feel a need
to blame somebody.

Hell, I do it. You do it.
We all do it.

I move that this man be sanctioned…

–Sanctioned?
–…for continuing to disrupt my cross-examination.

–That bug's gone deeper up, that's what it's done.
–It's a deliberate attempt…

–We need to get an exterminator in here…
–…to Distract the jury.

–…before it gets to his brain. No won—
–It's willful, illegal—

Shut up, you bobo-head!

–You called him that in open court?
–It's like he—

I seem to regress to a child when…

Denny, did you ever murder
any of your toys as a child?

I shot my flat screen
super bowl Sunday.

No, but growing up,

did you ever visit your toys
with violence?

Well, my war toys,
I'd blow them up,

and some of my sister's dolls,

I'd twist their heads off
after I finished, um,

you know, t-touching them,
and, uh…

Why are you looking at me
like that?

Why is everybody looking at me
funny these days?

What are you doing with the onion?

Oh. Well, I'm having
dinner with Shirley.

I plan to cry.

Sorry?

Well, I remember when she
first fell in love with me.

She thought I was vulnerable.
So tonight I plan to cry.

Like, uh, Robert Frost said,

“No tears for the writer,
no sex.”

He said, “no tears for the writer,
no tears for the reader.”

Whatever.
I'll pull a muskie.

It worked for Hillary
for about a week.

Only problem is I can't cry

without an onion.

Tear ducts are all shot.

We'd gotten reports
some old guy was shooting seals.

We went down to the pier,
and we saw him.

In the Boston harbor?

Yeah, in this 5-foot,
rickety old skiff

with a fishing rod and a shotgun.

Did you ever actually
see him shoot a seal?

On more than one occasion.

He told you he was fishing
in order to eat?

Yes, but the marine mammal
protection act

expressly makes seals
a protected species,

which we informed him of
many, many times.

I saw in your police report you made
mention of my client's mental status.

Yes.

Do you remember what you said?

I said he appeared mentally unbalanced.

–You deliberately defied me.
–No, I did not.

I asked you not to make it
about that, and you did.

No. I was just laying the groundwork
to negate mental intent,

which is one element of this crime.

I don't want to be called crazy.

–I'm not doing that.
–Yes, you are.

I am a war hero.
I earned the right to be proud.

I am not a victim.

I am not a victim!

I don't need anybody
feeling sorry for me.

Okay.

I hear you.

Now you need to hear me.

You must let me fight this case
on the elements,

one element being mental intent.

Otherwise, you're looking at prison.

Denny, do you know what—

I'm afraid to even ask.
–Keep a secret?

This water pack goes in my pocket,

I hit this remote, the water
goes through the tubes,

into the wires…

Tears.

–And the point is?
–To show I'm vulnerable.

I need to impress Shirley
with my sensitivity.

Tip her off,
and you're fired.

Well, might the desired effect
be blunted by the sight

of all that technology
on your cheeks?

Ah, we'll cover it with makeup,
and if my face is swollen,

I'll tell her
I've been drinking.

Denny, this is preposterous,
even for you.

This is grounds
for the rubber room, even.

Gosh, Carl…
That hurts my feelings.

Know what I love
about the human spirit?

Our compassion.

Our capacity to feel sorry
for those in pain.

Hell, we had a case last year—

a woman sued a department store
because she tripped over a toddler.

Jury handed her a 6-figure verdict.

Never mind the fact that

the toddler she tripped over
was her own child.

I kid you not.

Juries can get nutty
with compassion sometimes.

That man lost his daughter.

Now you wouldn't be human

if you didn't want to lessen
his pain any way you could.

But let's be fair:

no one could have predicted this,

Not even the victim,
the one who knew him best.

And by the way, she was the one

who rejected his proposal
on national television.

She could've said,
“let's talk about this later,”

but she chose to turn him down
with cameras rolling.

And even after
it all went wrong,

she never said to the police
or—or even to her own father,

“Hey, I think
he's a risk to my safety.”

Why?
She couldn't predict that.

Neither could my client.

As much…

as you feel for this man
—and you all should—

he lost his little girl.

Cry for him,

pray for him,

but don't get nutty.

I remember,
uh, the movie “network”

by Paddy Chayefsky.

It depicted, uh, the extremes
and perversities

that television would resort to
for the sake of ratings.

It was a film way ahead of its time,

and yet, now it seems dated

given the depths to which
television has sunk.

I doubt even Chayefsky could ever

have imagined putting contestants on a
program to eat worms or raw animal parts.

Or women humiliating themselves,
uh, to marry fake millionaires.

One network made a deal

for OJ Simpson to do a prime-time special
on how he might have killed his ex-wife.

Television is a noble beast, isn't it?

Well, the shame is,
it once was,

and to many,
it still should be.

Television took us to the moon.

It let us cry together as a nation

when a beloved president
was assassinated.

Its unflinching and comprehensive coverage
in Vietnam served to end that war.

Television gave us
Edward R. Murrow,

Walter Cronkite, Rod Serling,
Ernie Kovacs.

We had shows like
“the defenders,”

“All in the family.” We—
–I'm a nostalgia buff myself,

but maybe we could stick
to current events here.

How about it, Al?
–Current events. How fitting.

One could argue that
the steep decline of tv

began with a show
called “a current affair,”

which introduced tabloid journalism—
–Headed down memory lane again.

Will you shut up?

There used to be…

standards of excellence
in television.

I'm not talking only about
Emmys and Peabodys,

but not so long ago,

broadcasters had a real sense
of responsibility.

They took their statutory obligation

to operate in the public interest
very seriously.

Now the networks look
for our guilty pleasures

and morbid curiosities,

and pander to those with the hope
that they'll get us addicted.

Once you get people hooked,
you've got 'em,

and you have to get people hooked

Because everything today is
ratings, demographics,

market share, money.

Even the news divisions
are now profit centers,

which means that if good-looking,
white-toothed anchors

have better TVQs
than credentialed journalists,

you get the eye candy, and if
positive coverage of the war in iraq

reaches more households,
you get Fox news.

In fact, today you can
switch back and forth

between the right-wing news
and the left-wing news.

Whatever happened
to Huntley and Brinkley,

John Chancellor—
to news that was just the news?

Now we have partisan junk,

appealing to the lowest
common denominator…

which brings us currently to
the program at issue, “Dr Ray.”

Mr Palmer said his client couldn't possibly
have seen this coming.

Well, that simply isn't true.

This tragedy was inevitable.

It's practically scripted.

It's happened before.

Talk show ambushes have gone awry,
leading to murder or suicide.

This isn't a first.
But here's what's truly horrifying—

A tragedy occurred here,
a woman was killed,

but for the show—
for the show—

the real tragedy was that
the killing didn't happen on the show.

–Oh, your honor, I object.
–That would've been the ratings blockbuster.

That would've been the big score
everybody was hoping for.

But they had to settle for
the next best thing,

which was that
the murder became news.

The nightly news is perfectly
happy to do the job for them.

They gave “Dr Ray”

all the promotion
it could possibly want,

airing sensational clips
and graphics from the show

again and again and again.

You see how it all works
so beautifully together.

The girl is killed,
the show benefits,

the news benefits,
and we eat it up.

Psychologically damaged people

are paraded onstage

to be exploited,

ridiculed, taunted.

Of course this is what we get.

And we stand
to get a lot more of it

because it sells,

and it costs almost
nothing to produce,

and what's not to love?

Here we had an emotionally
unstable ex-boyfriend

with a history of violence,
armed with a marriage proposal

certain to be rejected
in front of the world,

And the fact that an innocent young woman
ended up butchered

was good business for all,
just business.

Well, so is a lawsuit.

The most memorable part
of the movie “network”

was when Howard Beale started
shouting on national television,

“I'm mad as hell, and I'm not
going to take it anymore,”

And the country
joined in with him.

You need to join in now.

You need to go back to that room

and say you're not gonna sit quietly

and let these networks
assault decency for profit,

you're not going to stand

for the exploitation
of the disenfranchised,

You're sick of the networks
debasing a medium

they're supposed to be guardians of.
Don't take it anymore.

Please, please get mad as hell…

and don't take it…

anymore.

Did you go to college, sir?

No. I was drafted
right out of high school.

When I got back
from my tour of duty, well…

you were diagnosed as bipolar,

Suffering from post-Traumatic
stress disorder.

You were prescribed lithium.

I'm not crazy.

Ethan, let's—
let's talk about the seals.

Mainly, I tried to fish.

I was starving.
I harvested some seals.

Did you ever apply for welfare?

I don't believe in handouts.

If a man can provide for himself,
he should, and I could,

Only the federal government
wouldn't let me.

I don't know
what to argue, really.

He's a serial seal killer.

He won't let you argue insanity?

Well, I couldn't even if he would.
We—we didn't plead it.

All I can say, really,
is he lacked the capacity

to form the necessary intent
to commit the crime.

I'm sure you'll be fine.

Can you imagine?

He's out in the harbor
in a 5-foot skiff trying to fish,

A 60-year-old man.
–I know. It's awful.

I feel so badly for him.

And a war veteran…

D-Denny, are you okay?

Well, it's just the thought
of a man starving.

–What the—
–A fisherman to boot.

I hate it when people starve.

All those little babies
in Africa…

Is everything all right?

No. World hunger,
Darfur, AIDS.

Oh, it's sad,

So sad.

G—For God's sake,
what have you done?

Nothing.
I just listened to you.

–Stop it.
–I found my own voice.

Why do you have little hoses
attached to your face? The truth.

Well, it's just that I-I—
I didn't—

–The truth, Denny, or I'm leaving.
–No, no, don't.

It's just, I…

I wanted to make you
love me again.

Excuse me?

I-I wanted you to be reminded
of the soft, sensitive me.

You said you wanted
to rekindle the old—

So i thought I'd cinch
the deal with a-a—

a few tears.

D-Denny, I…

I'm not looking to rekindle that.

–You weren't?
–No.

Is that what you thought
this dinner was about?

No.

I was just kidding around,
don't be silly.

Denny, you're— you're
a dear friend, but—

I gotta go.

–What were you thinking?
–I don't know.

You wired your face for tears?

Oh, lay off, will you?
Hindsight is always easy.

I thought maybe you were experiencing issues
of guilt over the murder, and well…

You could maybe start over.

–You think you're funny?
–It's the clown issue, too, isn't it?

No, no, no, no.
It's simply a mocking issue.

Look at the way…

Take it away. Would you please?
Take it away!

I think you two will
eventually work this out.

As you say,
it's all harmless pretending.

What are you doing?

You see, no mat—
You can't… it—

It always comes up
smiling, taunting me.

It won't stay down.
Oh! Jeez, denny.

–Well, it's what you wanted, isn't it?
–You carry a gun on you?

So what? I know exactly what I'm—

Judas priest.

It's not like
we're out to get Mr Melman.

But he willfully, repeatedly,
overtly broke a federal law,

in a dangerous manner,
I might add.

How many times are we gonna
let it go before we finally say,

“Enough, we're gonna prosecute
and put you in prison”?

When I drive to work,

I periodically come to street corners

where homeless Vietnam vets

or Gulf war vets
beg for food money.

I try not to look.
It makes me uncomfortable.

Just easier
to look the other way,

And, boy, have we
as a nation done that.

Thousands and thousands of Vietnam
vets have been lost to poverty,

drugs or suicide in this country,

and our statistics on the military
in Iraq are even worse.

With repeated tours of duty,
soldiers are 50% more likely

to suffer serious mental illnesses,

including post-traumatic stress disorder.

We've all heard about the 4,000 kids

we've lost in battle in Iraq,

but here at home

in the year 2005 alone,

we had 6,200 suicides

among those who serve in our
armed services. It is an epidemic.

Excuse me, but this case is not about
the plight of soldiers that fight in Iraq.

It's about soldiers period,
of which my client was one.

Yes, but are you suggesting special treatment
for soldiers that break the law?

Special treatment?

Judge, these veterans
sacrificed their lives.

Some of them are maimed,
some of them are rendered mentally ill,

and we can't even guarantee them soup.

No, they hardly get special treatment.

The seal seems to.

We can shoot coyotes,
hunt moose, slaughter cattle—

let's not even discuss
what we do to chickens—

but we actually have a law
protecting the seal.

Why? They're not endangered.

Is it because they're cute,

easy to look at, as opposed to starving,
mentally ill war veterans?

We're the United States—

the richest nation in the world—

and we abandon our vets.

We let them starve.
We do not take care of them.

But, hey,

as long as we slap
a bumper sticker on our car

that says we support our troops,

I guess it's okay.

Ethan Melman is a war-decorated hero.

He returned suffering from
post-traumatic stress disorder.

It made holding down employment difficult,

so his insurance lapsed,
and he didn't get treatment,

and he began to starve.

He didn't rob anybody,
he didn't break into a bank

or knock over a liquor store

or snatch a popsicle
out of someone's hand.

He went fishing.

Perhaps hunting.

And the federal government,
instead of offering him a meal,

decides to spend $30,000 to $40,000
of money we do not have

to offer him a jail cell.

Special treatment? No.

Decent treatment might be nice.

750.
Take it or leave it.

Leave it.

Alan, if they find her
contributarily negligent,

we could get nothing.
Plus, on foreseeabity—

Jerry.

Ticktock.

–Your call. I think we'll get more.
–Alan!

I think we'll get more.

We are at the buzzer.

Rejected.

You heard him, Mr Palmer.

Members of the jury,
have you reached a verdict?

We have, your honor.

And what say you?

Uh, “we the jury,

”In the matter of Beckham
vs World Wide Pictures,

”Find in favor
of the plaintiff,

”And we order the defendant to pay
damages in the amount of $4.3 million.”

Did— did he just say—

Your honor, I ask that the verdict
be set aside on grounds of being excessive.

Mr Palmer…

shut up.

All right, the jury is excused
with the court's thanks.

We are adjourned.

Disappointed, Melvin?
Three pops for yes.

I gotta hand it to you, Al,

A hoot till the end.
–That's me.

Hell, I get paid win or lose.

Hell, now that we get to appeal,

I just made more money,
that's what I did.

Busy.

Denny.

Shirley…

Why did you invite me to dinner?

Because I adore you.

I've let some friendships
either atrophy or…

And well… I suppose…

I'm worried about you.

That's it? You're—
you're worried about me?

Denny, you're walking around
without your pants on,

Your face wired for tears.
–I explained the pants.

The tears were for you.

You don't see us
getting back together at all?

It's so far beyond the bucket?

–Pale.
–What?

It's “beyond the pale,”
not the bucket.

Shirley…
we love each other.

I do love you, Denny,

but not in a romantic way.

Oh, come on, Shirley.

At our age,

if our heart skips a beat,
it could kill us.

You gotta give up on this…

romance thing.

Nobody ever gives up on it.

–Judge is back.
–Thank you.

Denny…
you're not in trial.

It's my judge.

Had a little malfunction…

on the tear machine.

Gotta get the kinks worked out.

Once I do, I'll—

I realize our nation has a deficit,

and we can't feed everybody,
nor get them health insurance.

But it seems to me,

if a soldier risks his life
in battle for this country…

this country owes him something in return,

If not legally, morally.

I find Mr Melman not guilty.

–Oh, my!
–We are adjourned.

–Thank God.
–Thank you, Shirley.

You saved my life.

How about I take you
to dinner to celebrate?

I know a cozy place that
serves marine mammals.

Well, I— If you don't mind,
I think I'm gonna pass.

–Okay.
–Okay.

Thank you, Shirley.

Oh! I will pay my bill.

And he just continued
to smile as if he'd won…

that same horrific grin
as the bobo doll.

As much as I wanted to help my client
in this case, I'm ashamed to admit,

my overriding drive
was to beat Melvin Palmer.

I know it sounds crazy,

but he really did bring back
memories of the bobo doll.

It would just keep popping back up
with that expression…

“You lose!”

Lorraine thinks
it's self-loathing on my part.

We're all victims of our childhood,
one way or another.

I'm sorry about things with Shirley.

Yeah.

Que saran, saran.

Serra.

Really?
I thought it was saran.

No. Serra.

What's saran?

It's a wrap,
keeps sandwiches fresh.

See, if I had been the one
to break it off with Shirley…

Ah, it's all male ego anyway…

Like you having to
prove yourself in court.

We're hard-wired.
That's, uh…

Just don't want
to be seen as losers.

I think we live our lives
so afraid to be seen as weak

that we die perhaps without
ever having been seen at all.

Denny, do you ever worry
that when you die,

people will never have
truly known you?

I don't want 'em to know me.
I want them to believe my version.

Besides…

you know me.

That's enough.

Lorraine thinks, until
I get professional help,

I will forever be disabled
when it comes to forging

a truly intimate relationship
with somebody.

Who needs one?

Well, I'll tell you something,
you've got one with me.

You have met somebody
who likes you for who you are.

And cigars, scotch—

That's a true relationship.

And…

I love you.

Bonus points.

–So I'm all right.
–Yeah, we both are.

That's why we like to sit out here.

It reminds us…

We're all right.

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