All language subtitles for Bull (2016) - 05x01 - My Corona.SYNCOPY-mSD.English.C.orig.Addic7ed.com

- Are you serious?
- Oh, I'm serious.

The city's serious. The state's serious.

We're locking these doors,
and nobody's coming back inside

until the government says so.

So, what do you think we're looking at?

Two weeks? Three weeks?

I just heard they're
suspending all trials

until further notice.

They're closing up the courthouse.

So, wait, no one comes in
until further notice?

Do we still get paid?

Yeah, you still get paid,

'cause you're still gonna be working.

The second we have this virus in hand,

we're gonna be back in court,
and we're gonna be ready.

And how's that gonna work?

Well, Taylor's got
some kind of system set up

where we go and get on
our computers at home

and talk to each other
like we're still here.

I'm sending out an e-mail in the morning

that will explain everything.

It's not a big deal,
as long as you have decent Internet.

Define "decent."

You ever watch anything
that moves on your laptop?

Movies? YouTube videos?

Porn?

I got to tell you, I feel
funny going outside now.

I mean, right? It's a virus.

Could be anywhere.

I'm thinking maybe I should
get a mask now or something.

You know, I actually read
that you don't need a mask.

They don't want you wearing one
'cause it's safer without it.

Okay. All right. So,
what's your best outside guess, a month?

A month, tops.

But weren't they saying last month

that this thing was gonna just disappear?

I think I have to give up my place.

Did you say something?

What time is it?

- 20 after 2:00.
- Mm.

I think I have to give
up my place. My apartment.

Gonna have to sublease it or...

break the lease or negotiate something.

I just...

We can't handle both places.

And it makes no sense.

I mean, I'm paying rent on the office.

Everybody's salaries.

You sold your business.

There's no work.

No cases. The one case
we had settled out of court.

I thought this thing was
gonna last three weeks.

We're going on six already.

You okay if I move my things in here?

You mean your furniture?

- Your stuff?
- Mm-hmm.

Can we at least afford
a small storage unit?

Forget I mentioned it.

I mean...

how long can this thing last?

You did it, Chunkster.

You graduated

law school, passed the bar.

Now, I don't know who you had to pay off,

but let him or her know

that I am happy to represent
them when they get caught.

See, that's your guy Benny, Bull.

Always drumming up business.

Hey. It's a
rough-and-tumble world out there, pal.

You'll see.

But, seriously,

congratulations.

We are all very, very proud of you.

Benny's right.

We're all proud.

Hear, hear.

To Chester Palmer, attorney-at-law.

Chester Palmer? Chester Palmer?

Your real name

is Chester?

That's really cute. I like that!

Oh, Chester!

Oh, Chester!

What? Guys,

ladies and gentlemen, I would
also like to propose a toast

to our boss.

- Mm.
- I have a lot of friends.

They are struggling to make ends meet.

But our boss...

He lets us know, without fail,
every week,

how important we are to him.

You know those checks
are no good, don't you?

To Jason Bull.

- To Jason Bull.
- Jason Bull!

Ow!

- Salud.
- Cheers.

Come on.

Oh, Astrid, I know, sweetie.

Okay. All right. It's okay.

It's almost midnight.

Daddy's got to go to sleep.

Huh? Oh, come on.

Wait a second.

Let me show you something.

You see that?

You like that?

Well, that is the world I
thought I was bringing you into.

Unfortunately, shortly after you arrived,

it closed for business.

We're just allowed to stand at
a distance and look at it now,

not be a part of it,

be in it.

Sorry about that, Astrid.

Don't quite know
what we're doing here anymore.

We're just sitting around,

holding our breath,

waiting for a cure.

Waiting for a miracle.

_

Thanks for agreeing to meet me in person.

I just couldn't bear
to spend another minute

staring at a computer screen.

What can I do for you, Mr. WESTBURY?

Landlord Data Initiatives.

We provide automated data services

to landlords and property owners.

You want to rent an apartment,
the landlord,

along with the normal credit check,

will reach out to us to see

if there's any other relevant information

that might influence his or her decision.

Have you ever been arrested?

You owe back alimony or child support?

Ever been in a rehab?

You a sex offender?

That kind of thing.

Okay.

And... who's suing you?

Who's taking you to court?

Oh.

Just the federal government.

Any particular reason?

Well...

we're an automated service.

And, frankly,
our customers, the landlords,

prefer more data rather than less.

So our algorithms
will often go the extra mile

and make sure to check a person's name...

Jason Bull, for instance...

In all 50 states.

And sometimes the algorithm
will attach the right name

to the wrong person.

Say... Justin Bull.

Or the wrong person to the right name.

Say the Jason Bull that lives in Idaho

instead of the one
that lives in New York.

Again, we're automated,

and there are over 330 million
people in this country.

And you'd be amazed how many of them

have the same or similar names.

Plus, our reports are
delivered to landlords

without any human review.

So, sometimes...

mistakes happen.

And when they do,

people who probably should be
eligible to rent an apartment

are denied.

Well,
that sounds like a problem worth fixing.

Agreed.

But that would
significantly raise our costs.

And, at the moment,

our average subscriber
is charged only $12 a report.

So, how big a business
are we talking about?

We do almost a billion dollars a year.

You know how many apartments there are

in the United States?

Huh.

And why me? Why my firm?

Well, it's gonna be a jury trial.

And almost everyone

at some point in their lives
has tried to rent an apartment.

But very few people have run
businesses built on the idea

of strip-mining strangers'
digital lives for profit.

I've got about 1,500
people who work for me.

Sales people. Accounts people.

That's... 5,000, 6,000 people,

including life partners and kids.

We were about to add
60 more workstations here

before COVID hit.

The government has the power
to make that all go away,

put us all out of work.

Forgive me, Mr. WESTBURY,

but it does kind of sound like...

you're doing something wrong.

I should also mention...

we pay really well.

Two things.

First thing,

City of New York says

it's okay to go back to the office.

Second thing, we have a client.

Need to prepare.

- Need to be ready, because...
- I know, I know.

I liked having him here all the time,
too...

they're gonna open the courts

- and it's gonna beany day now.
- Mmm.

Say goodbye to Daddy.

He's going to work,

and we're never gonna see him again.

Are you all right?

Weird dreams.

I keep hearing music in my head.

What do you mean? What music?

I don't know.

This old stuff,
and I can't get it to stop.

Are you sure you're not still asleep?

I'm not still asleep.

Maybe I'm anxious about tomorrow.

You know, I think this is the longest

I've ever not been in a courtroom.

There were moments I was afraid

we were never gonna...

get to go back, never get to do it again.

Mm.

It's like riding a bike.

You're gonna get in the
car with Benny tomorrow,

and it's gonna be like old times.

Hmm.

You think, huh?

Mm-hmm.

Synced & corrected by -robtor-
www.addic7ed.com

So, you actually think there
are some jurors somewhere

that will side with a company

that collects personal
information on people

without asking permission,

sells it, and doesn't
even stand by its accuracy?

I think there are some people...

Not a lot... that will realize

the kind of service being sold here is...

a tool.

An imperfect tool.

If a landlord sees something on a report

he or she doesn't like,
they are free to investigate.

They are free to ask
the applicant about it.

They're free to trust their own instincts

about whether or
not to rent to that person.

The report doesn't make
the final decision.

The landlord does.

A jury with a highly-attuned
sense of proportionality

will also weigh in the fact

that these reports cost 12 bucks apiece.

Any reasonable person
is gonna approach them

with some level of skepticism.

Mr. WESTBURY.

Where is everybody?

We early?

Gentlemen.

In light of the current situation,

we've enacted some new protocols,

new procedures here in the courtroom.

Before we get started, if you'd allow me

to bring you up to speed?

Starting with the gallery.

For the time being, no members
of the public are permitted

to sit in the gallery.
No members of the press.

No friends or relatives.

Wait a second.

That means there's no place
for the mirror jurors to sit.

How is this gonna work?

One thing at a time.
Now, what about voir dire?

What about the prospective jurors?

Would they still be sitting there?

Getting to that.

At counsel's table,

whether it's the plaintiff's
table or the defense table,

only the plaintiff or the defendant

and one attorney
from each side are permitted.

And they must sit
at least six feet apart.

Well, wait. Six feet apart?

I mean, what if I have
to whisper in my client's ear?

You pass a note.
All other members of the team

must sit in the gallery
and maintain social distancing

while doing so.

I guess that's where you're sitting.

So... yeah, looks that
way... help me out here.

Where will the prospective jurors be?

Not in the courtroom.

Excuse me?

For the purpose of voir dire,

they're being held uptown
at the convention center,

which affords the opportunity
for adequate social distancing,

hand washing, and air circulation.

And when it comes time to question them,
what do we do?

We bring them over here one by one?

That's gonna take forever.

No. We never bring them over.

You'll call for a potential juror

based on their number and
juror questionnaire.

You'll ask a question
into the microphone.

You'll hear their answers
through the speakers.

That's how we'll do it.

So I can't... I can't see them?

I can't be in the same room with them?

I can't see how they behave?

What's that have to do with anything?

Bull, relax.

And what about once they're picked?

Then does the jury get to sit there?

No. As I said,

we never bring them over.

They stay at the convention center
watching the trial

on closed circuit television.

Oh, my goodness. Uh, Bull?

What does this all mean?

It means I can't do what I do.

It means, basically, I serve no purpose.

I can't see them, Marissa.

For the length of the trial,
I can't see them.

Is he okay?

♪ I see the bad moon a-rising ♪

♪ I see trouble on the way ♪

♪ I see earthquakes and lightning ♪

♪ I see bad times today ♪

♪ Don't go around tonight ♪

♪ Well, it's bound to take your life ♪

♪ There's a bad moon on the rise. ♪

You okay?

Yeah, I'm fine. I'm fine.

You know, for what it's worth,
I think you shook up our client

a little bit with all this
"I can't see them" stuff.

It's gonna be fine. I'll calm him down.

Okay. But first...

Calm me down, please.

Benny.

It was just a moment of panic.

I don't need to see the jury.

I just need to hear 'em.

Okay.

Now, juror 35,

have you ever lived in an apartment?

Yes, I have.

Ever applied to rent one
and been turned down?

I have.

Ever find out why?

Nope.

This juror is acceptable
to the plaintiff.

Any questions for this juror, Mr. Colón?

Your Honor, the defense thanks

and moves to strike juror number 35.

Thank you for your service, juror 35.

Mr. Benjamin, you're at bat again.

Let's clean this thing up.

Juror 14, please.

Uh, Bull, this woman is a definite no.

Very black and white.

She does not live in the great gray.

There's no proportionality here.

How can you be so sure?

You'll see.

Nice to meet you, juror 14.

Now, according
to your juror questionnaire,

you're an auditor for the IRS...
A tax auditor.

Whoa. Talk about burying the lede.

Guilty as charged,

but, you know, someone has to do it.

Indeed, someone does.

So let me ask you.

How often are you confronted
with someone,

you're auditing their taxes,
and their numbers

and your numbers just
don't add up at all?

Only on the days that end with "Y."

You're sitting across from a taxpayer

who's taken deductions
for all kinds of things

that really aren't deductible.

Story of my life.

And he or she is minimizing

their income in every way possible.

That's virtually every audit I do.

And when you confront them...
Show them the proof

that they're being less than
honest, less than forthright...

How often does the, uh, taxpayer confess?

Let me stop and think a minute. Never.

So, what defense do they offer?

"I was sloppy."

"That number shouldn't have
been in there."

"The computer must have
put the number in there."

That computer thing... That's a big one.

See what I mean?

This juror's acceptable to the plaintiff.

And why do I sense the defense
won't feel the same way?

Hey.

Oh. Just a couple of questions,
Your Honor.

Have at it, Mr. Colón.

Ah, it's actually
just one question, juror 14.

Of course.

Have you ever been wrong?

I'm not sure I understand the question.

Well, you were talking
about auditing people,

confronting people,
listening to their excuses, so

I was wondering,
have you ever been wrong?

Have you ever discover edit
was the computer

that put it in there?

Once in a great while,

yes, I've been mistaken.

Maybe not in the exact way
you're talking about,

but yes, I've been wrong.

Bull, you're not

actually considering
putting her on the jury?

I'm not considering anything.
I'm doing it.

But there's not an ounce
of proportionality in her.

- I beg to differ.
- Mr. Colón?

Where are you with this potential juror?

Bull, don't do it.

You can't see, but I can.

I am staring
at her entire adult life here.

She's not who you think she is.

I heard you, Marissa.
I just don't agree with you.

My guess is, not only is this woman going

to vote to acquit our client,

but they're going to make her
the jury foreperson.

Oh, Bull.

Mr. Colón?

Uh...

Yes, Your Honor, uh,
the defense accepts this juror as well.

Well, la-di-da.

Are you sure we know what we're doing?

Then we have our jury, people.

Trial will commence from this courtroom

and the convention center

tomorrow morning at 9:00 a.m.

Court is adjourned.

You know, uh,

we've been doing this for a long time.

Usually I could read
the tea leaves, follow along,

but that last pick... I, uh...

I know.

It makes no sense.

Marissa thinks I'm out of my mind.

She might not be the only one.

Can I tell you something?

Deep, dark secret?

The last couple of months,
I would wake up in the morning,

and I'd barely recognize the world.

I mean, I'm supposed
to be some kind of expert

in human behavior, but...

everywhere I looked...
In the news, out the window...

Nothing I saw looked familiar to me.

Nothing I saw made sense.

People were not doing the things

I would have presumed them to do,

I would have hoped for them to do.

Well, these are strange times.

Been rough on everybody.

So when I walked into
the courtroom this morning,

and it was all... different...

I thought it was a signal.

I thought... maybe it's time
to close up shop,

get out of town.

This is how change happens.

The glaciers take away the dinosaurs.

The virus takes out the trial scientists.

Bull... But then,

that lady from the IRS started answering

the government attorney's questions,

and the damnedest thing happened.

My instincts kicked in.

And it didn't matter
that I couldn't see her.

It didn't matter that she was
on the other side of the city.

I know... she belongs on that jury.

I know I can count on her.

Why? Because she admitted she'd
made some mistakes?

I don't know.

A bell just went off in my head.

A bell I've always listened to.

A bell I was afraid I'd...
never hear again.

I'm sorry, Bull. I...

...just don't hear any bells.

I hope you're right.

I'm gonna take the subway home.

"I hope you're right."

He better hope I'm right.

I mean, that's how we got here,
isn't it? Me being right?

Me being the boss?

Hey. You're not
seriously doubting yourself, are you?

Smart guy like you?

You know... the
real trouble with the world

is that stupid people are
so sure of themselves

and the smart ones are so full of doubt.

Wow. I never thought of that.

Did I think that up?

Nah. We stole it from some smart guy.

It's good, though, isn't it?

Point is,

it's your company, it's your name,

it's your everything.

You're the one who studied.

You're the one who worked hard.

You're the one who sacrificed.

You paid the cost to be the boss.

Yeah. You're right.

I did, didn't I?

Damn right you did.

♪ Paid the cost to be the boss ♪

♪ Paid the cost to be the boss ♪

♪ I paid the cost to be the boss ♪

♪ Look at me ♪

♪ You know what you see ♪

♪ You see a bad mutha ♪

♪ Look at me ♪

♪ You know what you see ♪

♪ You see a bad mutha ♪

♪ Look at me ♪

♪ You know what you see ♪

♪ You see a bad mutha ♪

♪ Ha. ♪

And how'd you react when he gave you

the news that you
weren't getting the apartment?

I was dumbfounded.

I had a good job.

Excellent credit.

I offered to give him
additional references,

three months' deposit instead of two,

and all he kept repeating was,

"The apartment is already spoken for."

Which made no sense,

because when I had toured it
two weeks earlier,

the landlord remarked that I
was the first person to see it.

So I was like, how can this be?
Is this a racial thing?

Well, the good news is, you
don't need a mirror jury

- to know how this one's going.
- Not funny.

So, what happened next?

Well, what happened next

was, I walked by that building

every day on my way to and from work,

and every time I'd see it,
I'd just get madder and madder.

So it was, like, two days later,

and I decided to just go in
and talk to someone.

So I went to the rental office,

I told them who I was
and why I was there,

and they pulled out
this report they had on me.

A report like this?

Uh-huh. I think that's the exact one,
actually.

Uh, yeah. That's my name on it.

I'd like to submit into evidence

this Potential Resident Background Report

on Angela Davidson generated
by the LDI Corporation

concurrent to her application
for an apartment

at the address so indicated.

So entered.

Will you please put this up on
the camera for the jury to see?

You may continue.

What did the document say?

Well, you can see it.

It said I had been found guilty
of domestic assault

in Billings, Montana,

and of selling methamphetamine
in Austin, Texas,

and of driving without a
license in Salt Lake City.

And then there were a ton
of other minor drug charges.

So you got the answer to your question.

I mean, clearly, that's the reason

why they were unwilling
to rent you the apartment.

Clearly. The only problem is,

is I've never been
to any of those places.

And I've certainly never been involved

in committing a crime of any kind.

So you've never been accused
of domestic assault?

No, I have not.

And you've never sold methamphetamine

in Austin, Texas? I've never sold

any drug anytime, anywhere.

I'm an elementary school vice principal

in the Staten Island
public school system, and...

Never been pulled over
for driving without a license, or...

Your Honor,

the defense is fully prepared

to stipulate that all notations
on this particular report

referencing Ms. Davidson's
brush with the law

were included in error.

Mr. Benjamin, do you agree
to such a stipulation?

We do, Your Honor.

Then please ask your next question.

Actually, we have no further questions

for this witness at this time.

Of course he doesn't. What he does have

are five more witnesses waiting
who are all gonna tell

the same sort of story.

You ever heard of that thing

where you go to a basketball game

and five or ten minutes into it
you realize you're sitting

in the wrong bleachers
on the wrong side of the court?

He's doing it for us, you know.

It costs Bull

a fortune to keep paying us
and make the rent

during the pandemic.

He needed a paying client.

We needed a paying client.

Good morning, Ms. Davidson.

Thank you for coming in
and testifying this morning.

You don't need to thank me.

I'm not doing it for you.

Oh. Okay.

Now, Ms. Davidson,

after you were denied
the apartment you wanted,

would you please tell the court

what happened
after you contacted my client,

LDI Corporation,

and shared your experience with them?

It took a number of phone calls
and a lot of work on my part

convincing them
that they had made a mistake.

But once you convinced them...

They purged all the incorrect
items from my file.

And did you ultimately find an apartment?

I did.

And are you happy there?

Objection. Relevance.

I promise the relevance
will become obvious

very soon, Your Honor.

It better. Objection overruled.

Witness will answer the question.

I'm happy.

I suspect I would have been happier

in the apartment I was denied, but...

I guess we'll never know.

Do you feel safe there?

Of course. I wouldn't
live there if I didn't.

Ah. Are you aware that the building

you're living in now also subscribes

to the LDI Corporation's service?

No. I wasn't aware.

- Nor do I care.
- Mm.

Are you aware of any drug dealers

that live in the building?

I'm sorry, I-I didn't hear an answer.

I'm not aware of any
drug dealers in my building.

But I'm not someone
who purchases or uses illegal drugs,

so I'm probably not
the best person to ask.

You have a child.

Are you aware of any pedophiles,
any known sex offenders

that live in your building?

No, I'm not.

What if I told you
one of the ways your landlord

keeps those kinds of dangerous people

from living in your building
is by using the same types

of screening tools that LDI provides?

I'm sorry, what is the question?

Objection. There is no question.

Counsel is testifying.

Objection sustained.

Jurors will ignore counsel's remark.

Let's ask a question, Mr. Colón.

Actually, I have no
further questions, Your Honor.

Fantastic. Mr. Benjamin,
call your next witness.

Will you tell the court your name, sir?

Lincoln James.

So, wait,

you're not Lincoln Jameison

- of Grand Rapids?
- No.

And you're not Lincoln Jaimes...

- J-A-I-M-E-S?
- No.

And you're not...

Willie Jam, otherwise known as Willie Jay

- or Willie JayJay?
- No, I'm not.

And I'm betting
the five different evictions

attributed to you on your LDI report

that resulted in you not
getting an apartment...

Any apartment

in the borough of Manhattan
for over a year...

Aren't yours.

No, they're not.

And because of that report,
my nine-year-old son and I

have been forced to live
in a not-so-safe motel

down by the West Side Highway
for the past 13 months.

Our room has been broken into
three times.

We can hear
gunshots and drinking all night long.

This is absurd.

We're chasing our tails.

No one is giving us any direction.

What kind of direction do you want?

Any direction. I'm happy to investigate

if somebody would just tell
me what it is we're looking for.

A defense. We are looking for a defense.

Come on, there is no defense.

What is it our client could possibly say?

From where I'm sitting,
he's clearly indefensible.

He is gonna say that his
service, no matter how flawed,

keeps the bad guys out.

The drug dealers, the child
molesters, the deadbeats.

And yeah, sometimes that means

that the wrong person
gets implicated, too.

But maybe that's the
price society has to pay

to keep the majority safe.

Well, I think we're kidding ourselves.

No jury is gonna side with that.

They're gonna side
with the guy with the kid

who couldn't get an apartment for a year

because of somebody else's mistake.

Everybody agrees with you, Danny.

Even Benny agrees with you.

So, what do you think they're
saying to each other in there?

It's pretty amazing, isn't it?

How different the city is
with so little traffic?

You step on the elevator in the lobby,

and you're the only one in there.

Wish someone had just told
me, "Today's the last day.

Tomorrow everything's
gonna be different."

I would have taken Astrid on the subway.

Top of the Empire State Building.

Taken Izzy out for dinner.

Seen a show.

And then, after the show,
would've walked down Broadway

with the crowd.

I miss crowds.

I had an off-the-records it-down
with the AUSA.

Wanted to see if there
was an appetite for a deal,

since this trial does not
seem to be breaking our way.

You did that without consulting me?

You haven't been yourself lately, Bull.

You haven't.

And everything was off the record.

Well, why would you want to do that?

We haven't even put on our case yet.

We don't have a case.

The only person

willing to testify on our
client's behalf is our client.

You don't know that. Danny's out there

beating the bushes, trying to line up...

LDI customers, landlords...
Somebody's gonna testify.

She's come up empty.

No landlord wants to get on the stand

and admit this is their fault.

All right.

So...

What did the AUSA offer?

What's he looking for?

He's looking for a million-dollar fine.

He wants LDI to sign a consent decree

that every report
they produce going forward

be reviewed by a human being,

and for every incorrect
and potentially damaging entry

on any given report,
that the subject of said report

be paid damages not less than $5,000.

Our client's never gonna go for that.

It'd put him out of business.

Actually, he's already thinking about it.

You spoke with him, too.

He wants you... us... To waive our fee.

Said that's the only way
the math will work.

Well, maybe the math works for him,

but the fee is the only reason
I took this case to begin with.

I'm up to my eyeballs in hock.

If we don't get paid our fee,

I'm gonna have to close this place.

Let everyone go.

I know that.

I think everybody out there
knows that, too.

Well, our client's wrong. You're wrong.

Everybody's wrong.

We put on a case, and we got that jury.

You're dreaming, Bull.

Who do you think you're talking to?

I do this for a living, remember?

You did this for a living.

Did. Past tense.

The world's changed.

You can't even be in the same room

with the jurors anymore.

You can't look at them.

You have no idea what's going on
in their head. No one does.

Says you.

I'm calling our client, set him straight.

Let me save you the trouble.

Here's what he's gonna say.

He's either gonna

take the AUSA's deal

or, if you insist on going
to trial and he loses,

which everybody believes he will,

his company will go bankrupt

and you will not get paid.

I'm gonna call you in the morning,

and you tell me which
poison pill you want to take.

But, Bull...

Hey.

Look at me, man.

You got to know,

uh, whichever way this all goes,

I'm with you, man.

Even after this place closes down,

I get a client,

you're my trial scientist.

You're my wingman.

Do me a favor. Send Taylor in here.

Okay.

Come in.

You wanted to speak to me, Dr. Bull?

If I asked you to do something
that seemed sort of...

illegal, would you do it?

For you, you know I would.

I don't know the woman's
name off the top of my head.

She works for the IRS.

She's on the jury. I think
she's the foreperson.

I need you to see if you
can get her phone number.

I need to talk to her.

Good morning, early bird.

Is it just you,
or are you expecting someone?

I am expecting someone, actually.

A woman. Uh, we've never met,

so if someone comes in asking for Jason,

could you send her my way?

Sure thing.

Excuse me.

You wouldn't happen to
be Jason, would you?

Oh, I'm sorry. I must...

must have made a mistake.

No. I'm sorry, I'm-I'm Jason.

Uh, thank you for coming.
I know it's early.

I know you have to get to
the convention center for the trial.

Did you say "trial"?

So, wait, this isn't about IRS business?

That's what you indicated on the phone.

No. I lied.

It's about the trial.

Well, then, I can't talk to you.

What are you? A reporter?

'Cause I'm on the jury.

I'm the foreperson.
I'm not allowed to discuss...

I promise,
you're gonna go to the convention center,

and the judge is gonna announce
that the trial is over.

The parties settled. It all happened

late last night. I was
on the defense team.

In fact, I'm the fellow

who urged the attorneys
to seat you on the jury.

Okay.

So, then,

why did you call me?

What do you want?

I would love to know...

which way were you leaning?

What was your sense?

Well, I only heard half the case.

- No, of course.
- And I just thought

what happened to those people was wrong.

I honestly can't think of anything

that would have been said that
would have changed my mind.

You look upset.

No, I'm...

I just...

I'm usually pretty right
about everything,

but lately I've been
on this rampage of wrong.

Everything. All of it.

Well, God, everyone's
wrong once in a while.

Isn't that one of the questions
I had to answer in court?

I think I'm having trouble
with the idea that nothing is forever.

That things change.

The way we do things. The way we live.

This thing I thought I was gonna do,
for the rest of my life.

I think it might be over.

I think maybe I'm extinct.

No.

That can't be.

Do you have family?

People you live with?

People you count on?

People who count on you?

Then you endure.

Then you are not extinct.

I don't think it's as simple as that.

It's absolutely that simple.

It has to be.

Because I love you.

And I need you to get well.

I need you to wake up.

Excuse me?

I said I love you,

and I need you to get well.

I don't know if you can hear me,

but if you would just...

open your eyes.

♪ Care for you ♪

♪ Maybe I'm just... ♪

Oh, my God.

You're awake.

Oh, my God.

Say something.

Damn, I'm hungry.

Benny!

He opened his eyes! He's up! Get in here!

And turn off that stupid oldies station.

There he is.

Hey.

Missed you, pal.

Your fever broke last night,

but you just kept laying there.

Doctor came by and
swabbed your nose this morning.

Said you were clean, but...

It's almost like you had something to do.

Something to finish.

You know, like you get at work sometimes.

I was sick?

I've never seen anyone so sick.

You came in from soothing
Astrid on the balcony,

said that you got a couple of e-mails,

and you went to the bathroom
and you-you never came out.

I found you there on the
floor. I called Benny.

The two of us carried you into bed.

- And that was... five days ago?
- Mm-hmm.

Five days. What did I miss?

Well, courts are finally
starting to open up this week.

They want us to pick up
on that case we were doing

when everything shut down.

So, what's that gonna be like
back in court?

With the virus and all.

Uh, exactly what you'd expect.

They gave me a tour yesterday.

They have us sitting exactly where
we've always been sitting.

Jurors are spread out.

Some in the box, some in front of it.

Oh, so, wait a second.

They're gonna be
in the courtroom with us?

We can see them?

Uh, yeah. I mean, you know,
they'll have masks on,

but of course. We can see them.

Uh-oh.

Somebody knows you're up.

She's probably hungry, too.

Mmm.

♪ In a world
that's constantly changing? ♪

♪ How can I be sure ♪

♪ Where I stand with you? ♪

♪ Whenever I ♪

♪ Whenever I am away from you ♪

♪ I wanna die ♪

♪ 'Cause you know I wanna stay with you ♪

♪ How do I know? ♪

♪ Maybe you're trying to use me ♪

♪ Flying too high can confuse me ♪

♪ Touch me but don't take me down ♪

♪ Whenever I ♪

♪ Whenever I am away from you ♪

♪ My alibi ♪

♪ Is telling people ♪

♪ I don't care for you ♪

♪ Maybe I'm just hanging around ♪

♪ With my head up, upside down ♪

♪ It's a pity ♪

♪ I can't seem to find someone ♪

♪ Who's as pretty and lovely ♪

♪ As you... ♪

It's great to be back.

We missed you guys.

♪ I really, really, really wanna know. ♪