[Charlie is meeting Angela for the first time. Angela goes off to get a cup of coffee]
Charlie Fineman:
Are you kidding me? She's a baby.
Alan Johnson:
Listen, you're right, she's young. But, she-she's good. She's got a lot of experience with loss and grief counseling. Just...
Charlie Fineman:
She's got nice tits, that's not good.
Alan Johnson:
Since when?
Charlie Fineman:
[pause] Good point.
Alan Johnson:
Look, we'll just do the meet-and-greet, and see if you like her, and if you do, we'll just - we'll go from there.
Charlie Fineman:
Am I wrong about her tits, though?
Alan Johnson:
No, you're right. They're wonderful.
Angela Oakhurst:
So what are you guys talking about? What's so wonderful? [silence from Charlie and Alan]
Robert K. Bowfinger:
Do you have any experience in motion pictures?
Jiff Ramsey:
Uh, well, yeah, quite a bit, actually, I have quite a bit of experience. I'm an active, uh, renter at Blockbuster, and I, um, attend the filmed cinema, uh, as much as possible, weekly, bi-weekly, inter-week-... intermediately.
Robert K. Bowfinger:
Would you be willing to cut your hair?
Jiff Ramsey:
[sighs] Oh, yes, but, uh, it's usually better if someone else does it. I've had a few... accidents.
[Sam is seeing her therapist]
Samantha:
So, you see... when a bullet goes in to the thigh, it can lodge in the fascia. That's the, uh, connective tissue. Mine was a through-and-through, which means the bullet went...
Dr. Lisa Harris:
I know what it is.
Samantha:
Okay, so to answer your question, getting shot felt very much like someone had taken a jackhammer to my leg. A burning hot jackhammer. [pauses]
Samantha:
And you're staring at me.
Dr. Lisa Harris:
Samantha... I asked you what it felt like to be shot, and you described, in quite some detail, the physical experience of being wounded. I'm interested in knowing how it felt in other ways.
Samantha:
Oh. Why didn't you say that?
Dr. Lisa Harris:
Samantha, you were brought here because you were a hostage in a kidnapping, during which you were shot in the leg with your own gun. You were assigned to desk duty, and as soon as you were allowed back on active, you shot and killed two suspects during an investigation.
Samantha:
That was a good shooting.
Dr. Lisa Harris:
Yes, I read the report.
Samantha:
There's a little girl, a violinist, who is missing. I'm sure you've heard. I could help her a lot more if I was out there doing my job.
Dr. Lisa Harris:
Well, right now, this is part of your job. And as our time is up I won't keep you. I have you on for Thursday, 8:00 a.m...
Samantha:
I can't do Thursday. But I'll call you.
Will:
[Sean is going through Will's profile. Inside we see are pictures of Will after brutal assaults by his foster parents] You ever have any, uh, experience with that?
Sean:
Twenty years of counseling, I've seen some pretty awful shit.
Will:
No. I mean, have you ever had any experience with that?
Sean:
Personally? Yeah. Yeah I have. [Sean looks away for a moment]
Sean:
I'm sure it ain't good.
Will:
My father was an alcoholic. Mean fuckin' drunk. Used to come home hammered, looking to whale on someone. So I had to provoke him, so he wouldn't go after my mother and little brother. Interesting nights were when he wore his rings...
Will:
He used to just put a belt, a stick, and a wrench on the kitchen table and say, "Choose."
Sean:
Well, I gotta go with the belt there.
Will:
I used to go with the wrench.
Sean:
Why?
Will:
Cause fuck him, that' why.
Sean:
Your foster father?
Will:
Yeah. [pause]
Will:
So what does it say? Will has an attachment disorder? Fear of abandonment? Is that why I broke up with Skylar?
Sean:
Didn't know you had. Wanna talk about it? [Will shakes his head, stares off]
Sean:
Will, you see this, all this shit? [Holds up the file, and drops it on his desk]
Sean:
It's not your fault.
Will:
[Softly, still staring off] I know...
Sean:
No you don't. It's not your fault.
Will:
[Serious] I know.
Sean:
No. Listen to me son. It's not your fault.
Will:
I know that.
Sean:
It's not your fault. [Will is silent, eyes closed]
Sean:
It's not your fault.
Will:
[Will's eyes open, misty already] Don't fuck with me Sean. Not you.
Sean:
It's not your fault. [Will shoves Sean back, and then, hands trembling, buries his face in his hands. Will begins sobbing. Sean puts his hands on Will's shoulders, and Will grabs him and holds him close, crying]
Will:
Oh my God! I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry Sean! [Will continues sobbing in Sean's arms]
