What do you see?
Officers at the scene saw a suicide.
Close range, an almost surgically perfect shot
to the right temple.
But I want to show you something else.
Mr. Walton's bludgeoned in the genitals just before he died.
And this? This changes the story for me.
I no longer see a suicide. I see rage.
Someone who almost got away with the perfect crime,
but whose emotions, in a flash, got the better of them.
What exactly are you looking for, Detective?
Hmm? A blubbering confession?
Because all I can see here is an unresolved, brutal murder.
You're not wrong. This is revenge.
But revenge against what?
What happened to me was one night in this man's life.
Exactly. So what do you suppose he was doing on all the other nights?
You want to find Mr. Walton's killer?
Look for more victims.
Help the people he hurt, and your killer will appear.
How did it feel, Emerald, after what he did to you?
To know he was still out there, walking free?
Okay, that's enough. This is bordering on harassment.
We have been nothing but cooperative,
we've been consistent, and we have alibis.
You do have alibis, which we're in the process of checking out,
along with those your boys gave us.
Be careful, bitch.
Now, bear with me if you can, one more question, to that end.
Ms. Ronson, the night of the murder, you were home alone?
As corroborated by security camera footage and cell phone data, yes.
Right.
Except there's a two-hour window.
No calls, no texts until 12:15.
Two voicemails, a number of texts,
all of which came through at exactly the same time.
Suggesting?
The phone was on airplane mode,
suggesting someone didn't want to be tracked.
Or perhaps, my phone was dead
and I didn't plug it in until I went to bed.
This impromptu interrogation is over.
Shame, I know the coffee really is quite good.
- Moroccan blend. - Ms. Standish.
Ah, showing crime scene photos in an informal setting
without an attorney present?
Are you officially considering my clients to be suspects?
I presume you have the necessary probable cause to justify that?
Your clients have not been forthright with me.
- The fact is… - The fact is you don't have a case.
If you did, you wouldn't be here trying to bully yourself into one.
Now, you've been here long enough to constitute detainment without cause,
which I would be thrilled to challenge in court.
Or perhaps I should just mention
your egregious intimidation tactics
in a formal complaint to my dear friend
Suzanne Gray at Internal Affairs.
Oh, the truth always gets out.
Well, you have five seconds to get out.
And the next time you show your face around here,
bring a pair of cuffs and an arrest warrant.
That's a deal.
Oof.
Oh, my girls.
It's Fashion Week.
I feel like playing hooky. Anyone with me?
Oh.
What's the point of having your own plane
if you never use the damn thing?
Let's hit the runway.
Thank you, darling.
All I'm saying is if Fashion Week wants to impress me,
it better match the five-star service that we get on this flight.
Well, as it happens, my darling, I pulled some serious strings.
Front row, all four shows.
Oh, yes, you did.
We're practically rubbing shoulders with Anna.
- Mm! - Oh, sweet Jesus!
- Speaking of rubbing shoulders… - Yes!
Was that a happy ending, or do we need to rescue her?
I hope so.
Oh.
Oh! That's it!
That's the spot! That's the spot!
That's it, Kenneth.
I don't know what's better.
Ken's legendary massages or no work calls.
I'll drink to that. No texts, no emails.
God, it's been a record-breaking, ass-breaking month.
Oof.
Woo-hoo-hoo!
Oh, here she is.
Oh, my.
- Queen. - Yes!
Woo!
Whoa, whoa, whoa!
Woo!
Was it as good as it sounded?
I think I just got baptized.
- Oh. - Or resurrected.
I needed that.
These last couple of weeks have been a shit show,
- don't y'all agree? - Mm-hmm.
Between your divorce, Dina losing Doug…
And everything you went through.
I mean, hell if I know how we've all made it out in one piece.
Which is why, my darlings, the universe owes us
an obscenely over-the-top pampering.
- Yes. - Hmm.
Listen, Dina, we've talked this over
and now that you don't have to juggle caregiving with your caseload…
We were wondering if you would consider please,
please let us change the name of our firm
to Grant, Ronson, Greene, and Standish.
- Pretty please? - We're begging you.
I mean, no one has your skill as a litigator.
And our business is just growing so fast,
we-we can't handle it all.
Darlings, what you need is somebody
who is hungry and ambitious.
Somebody who will fight like hell to make a name for themselves.
Why do we need someone who wants to fight to make a name
when your name clears rooms, honey?
Look, my whole life has been about work and Doug, of course.
Losing him… has made me want to scale back,
travel more, try to find what else makes me feel alive.
I will always be there to fill in the gaps like I'm doing now,
but I agree.
I think you need to find another partner
and two or three paralegals, at least.
- Would you like a refill? - Yes, I would. Thank you.
I asked Milan to come back.
I know you lying.
You don't blame the rabbit for getting trapped by the fox.
Besides, she's smart and she's pregnant.
And if we're not about women supporting women,
then we're not walking the walk.
Wow. Turning the other cheek
when you could have thrown a left hook?
Respect.
Okay, that's one paralegal.
But unless Dina's planning on cloning herself,
we're going to need to start headhunting.
Have you thought about Carr?
Uh, yes, I've thought about headhunting Carr, actually.
Quite literally, I would like to mount her head on the wall
and find a nearby spike to impale her.
That's a shame.
I always hoped all my girls
would find their way back to each other.
Especially after the way she handled your divorce.
I mean, she could have gone for the jugular, but she held back.
Out of what I assume was respect? Affection?
Affection? Carr? Please, spare me.
Okay, Libby, relax your Spanx.
What about Alberta? She's a killer lawyer.
Alberta asked Carr to be her partner.
Mm!
That was all a part of the play.
Get close, get inside,
and then go after what she really wanted: us.
Smart move, smart lady.
She's shrewd. She's sane.
She's black.
I'm not going to be mad at a little more melanin up and through here, okay?
Okay, fine. Let's consider Alberta.
But let me be clear. If Carr were to join this firm,
you'd still be looking for a partner
because I would be out the door before you could say,
"Fucking psychopath."
Okay.
Okay. Who's ready to relieve some stress?
Well…
Uh, okay, I guess that's me, Ken. Ouch.
Maybe next time we can, uh,
pretend to struggle with the decision.
Please? Never mind those… bitches.
Yes, Miss Thing, that right there is all you.
It's mentally already in my closet.
I know that's right.
- I wish you'd reconsider, Libby. - Reconsider what?
Carr is the only female lawyer
I know who's sharp enough to be a partner in this firm.
Sharp, yes, like a bloody machete.
Only with her, you just don't know which way
the blade will swing.
Why is she so important to you?
I feel responsible for her.
For all of you, but particularly for her
after what she went through.
Oh, we've all been through shit.
Not like her.
When she was a little girl,
she experienced the worst kind of abandonment.
- What? - Her father,
and this is strictly confidential.
Her father killed himself, and she found him.
Holy fuck, I didn't know that.
That's why she now draws her own lines:
on her skin, in the sand,
across anyone who tries to get too close to her.
Because if she's doing the damage,
at least it's not being done to her.
Okay, fine. I'll take the meeting, but that's it.
- Thank you. - She's going to have to compete
for the job, just like everyone else.
Of course.
And just remember:
hot shot female lawyers in Los Angeles,
they're as common as avocados.
The trick is finding one that's not rotting inside.
Bravo.
I do not blame my mother for my misfortunes or for my drinking.
You don't even acknowledge that you drink.
- Oh, my God. - How could you possibly blame your mother
- for something you don't even do? - Here, here, here, wait. Shh, shh.
"Remember my 17th birthday party
when you lifted your skirt up in front of all those people…"
"I didn't lift my skirt, it twirled up!"
Mm.
"You only remember the bad stuff, don't you?
"What about the big band I got to play at that party?
"Do you remember that? No!
You only remember that my skirt accidentally twirled up!"
"And you weren't wearing any underwear."
"Well, so my bush was out. So what?"
- Oh, God. - You wish.
We need to get some boyfriends.
Yeah, I know.
We're in our prime. We should be dating.
There's no excuse.
Yeah, I thought I was going to wait to be done with the, uh,
mommy thing, and then suddenly I was 50.
Yeah, well, that's the new 35.
- Oh, please. - Seriously.
We're hot. We are rich. We are successful. We should be dating. I mean, come on.
When was the last time that your skirt twirled up?
When was the last time yours did?
Two days ago. Equinox steam room.
Oh, my God, they're going to kick you out.
I'm careful.
Seriously, who's the last person you were actually attracted to?
- You really want to know? - Yeah.
Chase Munroe. What?
Nothing. He's my type, but he's such a lunkhead.
- A lunkhead? - Yeah.
And what exactly is my type?
I don't know. I guess I would've thought something more like tall.
- He's tall. - Suave.
- He's suave. - British.
- Not British. - Hugh Grant.
Hugh Laurie. One of the Hughs.
People named "Hugh" are 90% of the time swishy queens.
- That is fucked up. - Sorry, your name isn't Hugh.
I mean, like, why are you offended?
But seriously, he-he literally looks
like my OG heartthrob
from when I was a little baby girl.
- Who's that? - Jesus.
But who?
Jesus.
I used to rub one out to Jesus.
I had a huge lady boner for him, truly.
- "Lady boner." - Sunday school was my steam room.
What's so fucking funny? Have you looked at Jesus?
You're disgusting.
His body on that cross, those soulful eyes,
that fucking hair, those abs all chiseled,
holding baby lambs and shit.
Okay, well, it doesn't matter. It's like wishful thinking.
- Mm. - I don't date my clients.
Plus, he's a sex addict and a himbo.
That's a bad thing?
I mean, that's the ideal fuck buddy, right?
It's not like you're going to ask him to marry you.
I dare you.
You dare me? What are we, in the eighth grade? What are you doing?
I double doggy-style dare you.
You are the devil. Because now I have to do it.
- You're going to do it. - Yeah, I'm going to do it.
Do not eat my feet! You are so disgusting.
Hi.
Chase, for the record, you can't just swing by here
and see if I'm free.
I'm never free. I'm negative free.
Can you have this signed, please?
I'm on it.
And if you want a meeting, call Marnie.
Got it. Make an appointment.
But seeing that I'm already standing here next to you,
maybe you can squeeze me in.
Okay, look, I was just wondering if you had thought about what I asked.
You know, about giving this, us, another shot.
'Cause I'd really like to. Like really, really like to.
I have thought about it, but I don't think we should.
And since when are you someone who thinks about "shoulds"?
Since now.
We need time apart.
Some distance.
Serious distance.
That means no check-ins, no accidental run-ins,
no late-night texts because something reminds you of me.
No half in and half out. I need clarity, and so do you.
I have clarity.
You have habit. And you have addiction.
And I don't want to be on the receiving end of that.
You and I, we're like muscle memory.
We just fall right back into each other so easily.
Easy doesn't mean right, and it doesn't mean healthy.
I don't wanna keep just looping through the same cycle.
I love you, Allura.
I know you think you do.
No, I don't just think, I know.
Okay? I-I feel it in every part of me.
I need time.
I need to remember who I am without you.
Give me what I need, please.
Even if you don't think you need it too.
Okay.
Good. Thank you.
You know, the thing is…
I think some love just stays.
Even when you ask it to go.
Could have used some of that fucking aggression
during mediation.
Instead of that delicate flower crybaby
who didn't want to hurt Mommy's feelings
when the shit hit the fan.
No biggie, though. It worked out. You're welcome.
- Thanks. - Oh, wow.
I thought I'd have to wait for hell to freeze over
before I'd hear that.
What are you doing here, Carr?
I must have felt the gravitational pull of your massive ego.
Your gym is, uh, two blocks from my office, remember?
And since you personally told me that your body requires
three hours of worship a day,
the odds of finding you here were higher than your protein intake.
Ow!
- Ow. - Oh, so delicate for one so tough.
What do you want?
You can go lower.
I missed you.
And that filthy, oil-drenched man bun of yours.
Of course, what I'm probably really missing is
the dopamine hit I got from watching your ex unravel.
It pretty much consumed me night and day,
and now I feel like I'm in some kind
of post-Allura divorce withdrawal.
It leaves a void.
I'm sorry. Did you say that you miss me?
You crossed my mind… on occasion.
Oh, okay.
Boring, always washing my own hair.
Mm. Isn't that sweet?
Do you think we adequately celebrated our victory?
Maybe we can, I don't know,
relive some of the highlights together over dinner or drinks.
Are you asking me out on a date?
I don't know.
Does inserting that big, hard dick of yours
inside my lady hoo-ha constitute a date?
Maybe.
I can't.
Look, I want to.
It's just these stupid sex anonymous classes.
My name's Chase Munroe, and I'm a fucking sex addict.
Oh, what a crock of shit.
- It's not. - "It's not."
If you wanted to stop sticking your dick
where it didn't belong, you'd just stop.
My guess is you just haven't found the right place to stick it.
And where might that be?
What would your sad little limp dick of a sponsor say
if we were to go back to my office right now
for a little game of boss and secretary?
I think you'd like that, wouldn't you?
Do I get to be the boss?
What are you, fucking delusional?
Your only job is to satisfy the boss.
And if you don't, I'll have you broken down
and liquidated like a failing asset.
Wow, that's a mean, mean boss.
Well, report me to HR, I dare you.
Yeah!
Say it. Say it! Say it!
My name is Chase Munroe, and I'm a fucking sex addict.
Oh, no! Not that, you idiot. The other thing.
Oh, right. Sorry.
Please, boss. Don't fire me. I'll do better, I swear.
Oh. You think being better is good enough?
You need to work harder.
Yes, faster, yes. Okay.
Now put your back into it.
I want to see you sweat.
I need this job.
I'll do whatever it takes to please you.
I'll even come in early.
Ah! Not too early.
There you go. Slow down. Yeah.
I'll keep grinding and grinding until you're satisfied.
Oh, I'm going to bust my hump for my final review.
And I need a good… score!
Okay, you're rehired.
- Get off me. - Right.
Jesus Christ, that desk is killing my back.
Hoo! We were pretty loud. You think Susan heard us?
Who gives a shit?
She signed a fucking NDA. What's she going to do, sue me?
I feel like shit.
Oh, no.
So, you fell off the wagon and right into my pussy.
The world did not come to an end.
Yeah, I know, but…
this whole sex thing is fucking me up, alright?
I have to stop.
Well, it doesn't really matter if you stop or not.
What matters is if you figure out
why the fuck you're doing it in the first place.
That is literally the only thing that matters.
What do you mean?
You see these?
I know a little something about compulsive behavior too.
And if you don't know why you're doing what you're doing,
abstinence doesn't mean shit.
It will just keep pulling your strings.
Do you know your why?
Some days, I think I do.
Uh, like I'm in control.
Other days, I'm just a fucking marionette.
Well, what is it? Your why.
Yeah, no, I don't think so.
I don't kiss and tell the guys I fuck.
Even the ones I like.
If you want to take me to dinner sometime, maybe I'll tell ya.
Out.
Okay.
That was fun.
Kinky.
I liked it.
You don't judge. That is nice for a change.
Well, I save the judging for the judges.
I'm not going to let some asshole tell me what I can
and cannot enjoy.
Good job today, Mr. Munroe.
If you, uh, keep this up,
I might fast-track you for a raise.
Oh. Yes, ma'am.
Fuck.
Unfortunately, until the court awards you custody,
those are still his parental rights.
Um, your ex is here. He's…
Oh, okay. Just continue to keep a log of everything he says,
and I'll see you Monday.
Okay. He's where?
- He's… - Here.
Your ex is here.
Thank you, Marnie. You can close the door.
Of course.
- You could have called. - I did.
And I texted you.
Oh, shit. Okay.
So, what do I owe the pleasure, Chase?
- If this is a gift… - It was. From you.
It's from our first anniversary.
You paid all that money for it at the auction in Geneva.
Phillips.
I woke up, and you had put it on my wrist.
It was the best gift I ever got.
It says, "To my husband for all time."
You should put it up for auction.
Give the proceeds to that children's hospital you like.
You can erase the engraving. I checked.
Okay. Thank you.
I appreciate that.
So sorry, Allura, but Mrs. Walsh is in the conference room.
Okay.
I should probably go.
How are your meetings going?
- What meetings? - Your SA meetings?
Oh, uh, they're good.
Yeah, they're-they're really good.
What was the topic last night?
You know, uh, just, uh…
Look, it's the same as always.
Owning your shit, letting go. Allura.
Jesus, Chase.
What? They're meetings. It's fine.
Meetings that you're not even going to go to because what's the point, right?
You're just going to fuck around anyway?
No, that's not it at all.
You couldn't keep it in your pants for one fucking week?
Look, Carr said that I should…
Whoa. Carr?
No, I-I didn't say it was Carr.
You just did.
Okay.
Look, it was Carr, but it wasn't like a thing or anything.
She just…
She's a fucking lunatic.
And it's not even that she's sleeping with her client…
- Ex-client. - Who happens to be
my ex-husband, and she's doing this
all while she's trying to make partner at my fucking firm.
Are you that desperate to get off or are you just fucking stupid?
Maybe I like her, huh?
Because she doesn't judge me like somebody.
'Cause she's an immoral psycho bitch, that's why.
Yeah, well at least she's willing to try shit like roleplay.
I'm sorry, Chase, I'm not into roleplaying.
I-I'd like to find out who you are
before you pretend to be someone else.
Right. See, you're repressed and frigid.
Frigid? Because I don't enjoy getting bulldozed from behind?
No, you're frigid because you're just frigid.
You're so fucking controlling and judgmental.
And if it's not your way, then it's wrong.
And I'm not just talking about sex, it's everything. It's fucked up.
Fucked up? I'm fucked up? What about you?
What about your fucking promises
to get your shit together and deal with your addiction?
I will, but I need to figure out why I'm addicted.
Did you ever think about that?
Get the fuck out of my office.
Gladly.
You know, and for the record, I have never tried to control you.
If you didn't have such arrested development, you'd see that.
It's called caring about someone you love and wanting to help them.
Help them? Help them what? Be the way you want them to be?
Good luck finding a guy who wants that kind of help.
Thank fucking God, it won't be me!
Stand clear, everybody.
No need to panic.
Mr. Munroe.
I think she's expecting me, Susan.
Yes, of course. I thought you played football, Mr. Munroe.
Just volunteer work. Trying to be of service.
Uh, Mr. Munroe is here to see you.
You can go in.
Thanks. You got a little bit of…
Oh.
Yeah. Contain the spill before it spreads.
Oh, help. Help me.
Thank God you're here.
The flames, they're spreading.
I've been busy saving lives,
giving mouth-to-mouth to the victims in my building.
Some of them didn't even need it.
But as a fellow first responder,
I felt it was important to go above and beyond.
Dispatch, we've got a code red.
Victim is suffering from severe internal combustion.
Nurse, I'm going to need you to put your arms around me.
Let me take you to safety.
I was worried you wouldn't make it in time.
I'm ablaze inside.
Don't you worry.
When there's an emergency like this, I always come fast.
But can you last long enough to put out the whole fire?
I never leave a hot spot unattended.
I've been trained for deep penetration.
Mr. Fireman.
Well, I see your hose is fully pressurized.
Locked and loaded.
But it might be safer if I enter through the back door.
What?
That is, if it's okay with you.
Whatever you want, Mr. Fireman.
But please be gentle. It's been a while.
And that passage way has mostly been used as an emergency exit.
That's it. That's it.
Just relax.
You're safe with me.
Totally safe.
What's your name, Mr. Fireman.
- Chase. - No! No!
Your name, remember?
Oh, right, yeah.
They call me Jesus.
Yes! Jesus!
Oh, God! Oh, my Christ!
Oh, my Savior!
Yes, I'm coming.
- Oh! - Oh, baby.
Oh, Jesus. I'm coming.
Come for me, baby.
- Oh! - Oh, God!
Oh, come for me. Come for me, Allura.
Fuck. Shit. I-I-I meant Carr. Sorry.
I meant Carr.
Shit.
Look, we had a fight earlier,
and I… th-that's definitely why…
Yeah, well, it's fine. I get it.
She's still in your brain.
No biggie.
Fuck.
Look, Carr, that was really stupid of me,
and I shouldn't have fucking said that.
Chase…
It's fine, really.
It was just a fuck, so…
But, um, I have a client, so you should probably get.
How about I order us something really awful
for later when you're done?
You know, fires have a way of starting back up again.
Chin Chin?
I hate Chin Chin.
It's the worst.
I'll have it waiting for you in the conference room.
Uh, he's a cop. Of course, he's dirty.
Oh, no? Why don't you stick a finger in his ass
and see what you pull out?
Yeah?
I have Ann Ford.
Okay. I'm going to need to call you back.
Bring her in.
Miss Lane, it's an honor.
I saw the profile on you in LA Magazine.
Oh, God. Please don't do that. Don't kiss my ass.
I am the best at what I do. You are the best at what you do.
You are the number one stylist in LA, are you not?
Adele gave me your number.
What can I do for you?
Do you know who Allura Grant is?
- I do. - Yeah, well,
I want what that bitch has.
And let's get it done clickety-clackety, okay?
Okay.
- Thank you. - Alright.
Signature, please.
- There you go. Thank you. - Alright.
Oh, my God, I must admit I'm so happy to be back.
Thank you, Allura.
No. Not the boss lady, Milano.
And be grateful for it.
If you were my secretary
and you did what you did, fucking my man
while I was married to him,
I'd let you finish off your contract eating rubble
in a Siberian labor camp.
I am so sorry.
You look…
Uh, I…
I'll let them know you're here.
Is there something you'd like to share with the class?
- No. - No?
Alright, well, let's be real. They all want to be her.
We all want to be her. Shit, I want to be her.
I wanted to be her so bad, I got knocked up by her ex.
You're pregnant with that baby because you're a social climbing cum dump.
- Oh, my God. - Yeah.
Those are the facts, bitch.
Okay, well, take it from one who's tried.
The world only needs one Allura Grant…
but the world also needs a Carr Lane.
That's a badass bitch.
And honestly, from me to you, I'm rooting for her.
You fucking human fleshlight. Chase, really?
Anything you can fuck, I can fuck better.
- Oh, my God. - I see you got to my stylist, you bitch.
Well, she was grateful she finally had something to work with.
Well, you know you made it
when they start making shitty knockoffs of you.
It's like I'm looking at my reflection in a clogged toilet.
Dress for the job you want. Call it method acting.
Meth-head acting. You're having a psychotic break.
- Well, my Chasey-Poo loves it. - The nickname.
And, uh, it's like fucking you,
except for without the vaginal rot and the hot compost breath.
Plus, I let him put it in any hole he wants.
Listen very carefully.
You join this firm over my fucking corpse.
I am rock hard just thinking about it.
I don't know what your angle is, but it's not going to work.
My angle? I mean, what gal wouldn't want to join
this lovely human centipede.
The four of you ass to mouth,
gobbling up each other's rancid kale farts all day.
Kale farts is crazy.
Why Dina protects you, I'll never know.
You're a vulture.
So let's make this quick, so you can go back to eating roadkill.
You look like a blow-up doll that was left in a hot car.
Oh. Go melt your ass fat and use it to make soap.
Oh, the sacred library, the sanctum sanctorum
of the "You Can't Sit With Us Society."
So, is this the part where you pretend
that you've always wanted me here?
If I did that, my nose might grow.
Seriously though, what's with the interview?
You already know exactly what I bring to the table,
which is invariably your crushing defeat.
We know you can score, Carr.
We are not convinced that you're a team player.
Well, hard to prove that I'm a team player
when you've spent years making sure I wasn't on yours.
And you still haven't forgiven us for it.
Well, I'm here, aren't I?
After you slept with Allura's husband, for God's sake.
See, we don't keep secrets here.
Her ex-husband.
I made sure the ink was dry
before I touched a strand of that greasy man bun of his.
Well, tiny, slow clap
for showing such uncharacteristic restraint.
What the hell do you have on?
What is this, dress up like your enemies day?
Allura Grant is one of fucking one.
She doesn't need a goddamn stunt double.
- That part. - Oh, yes.
Well, just call it an homage to mediocrity.
And as for Chase, she should be flattered.
I don't often shop secondhand.
Now, are we here to talk about the law
or just to judge my extracurriculars?
I'm sorry. I have to ask.
Why would you even accept this invitation?
I mean, you're a huge success.
Wouldn't you rather be the boss of your own firm?
Well?
Closure.
I mean, I could lie and tell you that it's because
I need to spend more time with my daughter
or that the business has become overwhelming,
but it is much deeper than that.
Took me a while to recover from your initial rejection, but I did.
And then when Dina joined forces with you all, it became existential.
Because Dina was my mentor, not yours.
And now, after all these years, you are coming to me.
So, forgive me if I take a few minutes
to, uh, savor the moment.
Savor on your own time, Miss Lane.
The only reason you are here is a favor to Dina.
Did you look at the case we sent you?
I did. Marrying him twice, divorcing him twice.
The assemblyman with his batshit crazy conspiracy theories.
She should have trusted her gut the first time.
Okay, we will allow you to join us in mediation
to see what it's like to be on the same side for a change.
You're auditioning me?
What, to see whether I can play well with others?
Fine.
I will try not to hog the ball
as long as there is someone else to pass it to.
This bitch.
Whoa, the whole legal SWAT team.
Nice to see you, Francine. It's been a while.
It has. Liberty, Emerald, pleasure.
And Ms. Lane. What is this? Sleeping with the enemy now?
Just observing with a mild assist if necessary.
And before you, uh, comment on my new appearance,
- please know that this look is… - Mine.
…nothing more than a simple run-through
of next Halloween's costume,
where I will be dressing as a whore lawyer.
Huh. Dina too. Five on one.
You guys must really be sweating.
Hello, Francine. Sorry to keep you waiting.
I was reviewing some details with Ms. Williams.
Cora, I think you're acquainted with everyone here
except Carrington Lane.
Ms. Lane has gone over your case,
and she is sitting in with us today
to lend us her expertise.
- Please. - Thank you.
Cora.
Hello, Bob.
So, let's work together to resolve the custody issue
to spare your kids from the courtroom, shall we?
We suggest primary physical custody for our client
with reasonable supervised visits for yours,
on the condition that if Mr. Bishop
begins discussing politics or his theories,
then that visit is terminated immediately.
Mr. Bishop's children mean the world to him,
and he will not abdicate his parental rights
based on opinions he might have,
which his ex-wife does not agree with.
We're talking best interest standard,
protecting two minors from the paranoid conspiracy theories
Mr. Bishop's advocating.
My client is hardly alone in his thinking.
I'm sure you're aware of that, Counselor.
There's a whole club of Bigfoot believers too.
And there's a whole bunch of people who swear Elvis is still alive.
Now, that's just dismissive.
His views are way more mainstream than you'd like to admit.
Well, we were trying to avoid a 730 child custody evaluation,
but now it's clear a judge should hear it firsthand
that your client's beliefs are both dangerous
and a risk to the children.
Well, bring it on. I'm sure he's interested
in many psycho pharmaceutical prescriptions that your shrink
felt it was necessary to prescribe for you.
But I only began taking to survive your crazy shit.
You was crazy before I met you. I'm done. Let's go.
- No, no, no. - Uh, Assemblyman Bishop…
why don't you have a seat?
Please.
Thank you.
I'm just going to ask you a-a few questions.
Do you believe that, uh, aliens, uh, built the pyramids?
No, I do not.
So, you-you didn't say that to a Mr. Samson Ashorkor
while being interviewed on Radio Ada,
uh, a small community radio station in Ghana
when you were there in 2021?
No, the fuck I didn't.
Huh.
Okay, well, uh, what about, uh,
fluoride in the water supply turning children trans?
This is bullshit.
It's bullshit?
Well, I would have to agree with you on that
because, um, you see, Mr. Assemblyman,
I happen to have a transcript of that interview
that you probably thought no one except some, uh, fishermen or herdsmen
would ever hear on that teeny tiny radio station
in the rural outposts of Ghana.
I mean, I'm not even going to bring up
the fucking asinine comments you made about, uh,
th-the moon landing being faked,
or, uh, secret chambers being behind Mount Rushmore
filled with government secrets, or Beyoncé and Jay-Z and,
fuck you really hard for this, my beloved Taylor Swift
being Illuminati leaders.
But, uh, what I will bring up
is that I have given my assistant orders
to send copies of that transcript
to every news outlet for immediate release
if she doesn't hear from me otherwise by 2:00 pm today.
After which you will see yourself satirized ad nauseum
on every late night talk show
and ridiculed in every publication
no longer confined to the hills of rural Ghana.
Suffice to say, I think you can kiss
your political ambitions goodbye.
Unless you agree to an 80-20 physical custody split
with supervised visitation rights,
which if it were up to me, I'd say, "Go fuck yourself."
But your ex-wife seems to be a much more generous soul
than I am.
Do I make myself clear?
Told ya.
I'll be expecting your call.
Not tonight, though. I've got some X-rated plans with your ex.
It's kind of hard to discuss terms when breaching the fidelity clause.
Just out of curiosity, why do you keep throwing that in my face
when you want to be invited into this firm?
Because I know what really matters to you.
More than Chase. More than me fucking Chase.
More than anything else. And it's this firm.
Now, you saw me in there. You know what I can do.
And at the end of the day, that's all that really matters.
Isn't it, babe?
Try not to wear out your vibrator.
- Oh, no. - What's that?
- Ah! Oh, fuck! - Oh my…
- Oh, shit! - Where's your smoke alarm?
Uh… uh, around the corner. Uh-uh, up on the ceiling.
Oh, shit!
- You got that? - Oh, God. No, please, turn it off!
- I'm trying! - Make it stop!
I swear to God! Ah!
Oh, my God! Whew!
Shit.
Oh, man.
Okay, you know what? You, you can fuck right off.
There was a thought process here.
Because what is beef bourguignon, anyway?
It is, uh, beef and wine,
and I had some roast beef from the deli, thinly sliced.
I'm sorry, you put cold cuts in a stew?
I-I thought it would be easier to chew.
Okay, you are focusing on the negative.
Where are my kudos for attempting this,
this classic French dish?
Julia Child would be so proud.
Julia Child is rolling over in her grave.
Life is a goddamn learning experience.
Isn't that some sort of Yo-Yo Ma shit?
A Beginner's Mind.
Mm.
- Ooh! - Really fucking good, huh?
Uh… Mm. Zesty.
Zesty?
- Mm. - Yeah.
You know what else is zesty?
You… are zesty.
What, are you playing hard to get?
'Cause I can play that game too. Except for I don't want to.
You know what? We could just fuck and order Mister Chow.
I can't.
Carr, we have to stop this.
Okay, I came here tonight to tell you that.
Wow.
Uh… okay.
So, you came to my house for dinner at 9:30 pm
just to tell me in person that we should not be having sex?
Please, I'm trying to be good.
Okay, I'm-I'm trying to follow the program.
Yeah, well, you sound like a fucking pamphlet
from the free clinic.
Can't we just watch a movie?
Yeah, okay, goodie, let's watch a movie
and give each other titty twisters.
You know, you were wrong about what you said.
You were right and you were wrong.
Look, I-I have to find my why,
but I can't keep doing this toxic behavior.
It's both things.
Yeah, well…
you're a goddamn coward.
I got to go to a meeting.
Oh, yeah, okay, well, whatever. Go.
You have watery cum, anyway.
And ass acne.
This… stuff.
Oh, okay.
I see. You think this has nothing to do with you…
It's madness. Just absolute madness.
What is?
That people can't understand that Miranda Priestly
is the hero of this movie and that sad little Annie
is the psycho villain.
It's so fucking obvious.
I'm sorry things didn't work out with Chase.
Uh, things weren't supposed to work out with Chase.
No, I got exactly what I wanted.
They-they never would have seriously considered letting me
in the firm if they thought I was actually with him.
- Mm. - Yeah.
Why do you want this partnership?
There. With them.
That's the first question they asked me.
And I-I gave them some fucking sob story about second chances.
But in reality, the truth is…
it's destiny.
Like the band back together at last?
Oh, that's sweet.
No, not that.
Ever since they went off and left me for dead
at the Geriatric Litigation Society,
it has been my life's work, my destiny, to get payback.
Fucking with Allura's divorce was fun,
but I'm talking about real payback.
So… I'm going to go in like a Darth Vader cancer cell.
And I'm going to make that firm bigger
than they ever thought possible.
And then I'm going to drop kick it. Stomp on it.
Tear it apart, piece by piece, and sell it all for scrap.
Spill all the secrets, reveal all the skeletons,
and one at a time, destroy them all.
I get it.
And I hope that someday,
with some space and some clarity,
you'll reconsider.
I won't.
You see?
You see right there. Miranda.
Heroic.